#when it’s really just. part of who she is. a gift.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Bradford Has a Valentine's Day Princess

Part 2 of Bradford Has a Princess

Pairing: Tim Bradford x younger(24-26y/o)!fem!reader

Summary: Leading up to Valentine's Day, you - Tim Bradford's princess - learn exactly what your relationship and Tim's treatment of you mean.

Warnings: fluff! princess treatment, brief angst (harassment), Tim is protective and soft and gets called 'king'

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

A/N: I had to Google makeup, nails, and restaurants for this... Based on the impeccable whipped Tim idea from @nevereclipse!

February 11th – Los Angeles, CA

“I’ve got a buddy with a vacation house in the Caribbean,” Aaron offers, scrolling on his phone in the passenger seat of Tim’s shop.

“Good for you,” Tim says.

“Or I can get you in touch with my girl Shayla; she’s a product developer for Estee Lauder.”

“What is it exactly that you’re trying to do, Thorsen?” Tim asks, turning slightly in his seat as he slows for a stop sign.

“It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and it seems like you’ve set the bar pretty high with the whole ‘princess treatment’ thing, so I’m just trying to help,” Aaron explains. Tim’s brows lift, and he adds, “Sir.”

“I appreciate the intent – or I think I do – but I’ve got it under control,” Tim assures him as he prepares to continue patrolling.

Aaron watches Los Angeles pass outside the window for nearly a mile before he says, “Dior is having a sale, by the way.”

“I know,” Tim grumbles. When Aaron looks at him quickly, wide-eyed at his response, he threatens, “Tell Angela and see what happens.”

Tim sighs as he slides his key into the lock. Between Aaron trying to help with Valentine’s Day plans and a car full of frat boys who ran from a traffic stop and made the rainy afternoon extraordinarily long, Tim is more than ready to sit back and relax. Closing the door behind him, he shakes his head and smiles.

“Why does it smell like food in here?” he calls.

You wave from the kitchen and don’t answer. Tim rounds the island and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you away from the oven.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly, holding you against his side.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” you answer, smiling brightly. “I’m cooking.”

“I told you I’d cook tonight, and every other night,” Tim reminds you. “Or get takeout.”

“Yeah, and I really appreciate that, but you’re stressed. I can tell.”

“Are you saying I have wrinkles?” Tim challenges, tightening his arm around you.

You hum as you look at his face, then run your fingers under his jaw. “I was going to say your shoulders are tense, but now that you mention it-“

Tim shoves you away gently and grabs you before you can catch yourself. You laugh as he lifts you onto the counter, then pout when he blocks you from getting down.

“I’ll finish,” he says, holding your hips. “Sit there and look pretty.”

Resting your arms on Tim’s shoulders, you lean forward and kiss him. The oven chimes as the timer ends, and Tim pulls away from you with whispered gratitude.

“You didn’t let me do anything,” you remind him.

“Check the table by the door, please,” he says over his shoulder as he bends to remove dinner from the oven.

You tear your eyes from Tim as you slide off the counter – and ignore his demand of “Careful!” – before you walk toward the door. There’s a metallic pink gift bag with silver accents around the edges on the table. You use the braided handles to lift it, then smile at the card beneath it. Carrying both back to the island, you smile at Tim.

“What’s the special occasion?” you inquire.

“Another day with you?” Tim offers with a shrug. “Does there have to be a special occasion?”

“I suppose not. Can I open it?”

“No, I just got it for you to look at the bag,” Tim deadpans.

“You’re not funny,” you reply, “but at least you’re pretty.”

“We can’t both be pretty but unfunny,” Tim points out.

“Then I’ll be funny,” you decide.

Tim laughs, putting the oven mitts in a drawer by the oven. He nods as he walks to your side, and you pull the white tissue paper out of the bag before you gasp.

“Tim!” you exclaim as you lift the pink and white Estee Lauder bag. “It’s so pretty!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Tim replies, sliding his hand onto your lower back. “If you want different stuff, we can return it.”

You unzip the bag slowly, then unwrap the tissue paper to read the names of the items within. “Is this the Rebellious Rose lipstick? I’ve been wanting this one!”

“Rebellious should be a good fit,” Tim muses.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day gift I’ve ever gotten,” you say as you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him.

He lifts his hand to glance at his watch and says, “It’s not Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s close enough,” you point out as you lean back, keeping your hands on his sides.

Tim holds your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, leans in, and says, “You’ll know when it’s Valentine’s Day. Now sit down, I’ll plate the food.”

February 12th

“What do you want for Valentine’s Day?” you ask as Tim uses a fluffy towel to dry your hands.

“You,” he replies, setting the towel aside.

“I mean as a gift. Chocolate? Creatine?”

Tim chuckles at your second idea. He holds your hands in one of his as he opens an alcohol pad with his teeth.

“I’m off work for once,” he says as he carefully drops your hands. “So, I’ll handle plans and gifts. I just want to spend the day with you.”

“As opposed to what you’re doing right now?”

Tim looks at you through his lashes, then shakes his head and returns his attention to your hands. He wipes the alcohol pad across each of your nails and drops it in the trashcan beside your vanity, where you’re sitting with your legs bracketing his hips.

“It says to shape your nails,” Tim says, looking at the instructions beside you. “Do you want to do that?”

“I did it last night,” you answer, watching him rather than checking your nails. “I’m good.”

Tim nods, then opens the box by your left thigh. He removes the press-on nails and then directs your hand to rest on the counter beside them. Carefully, he lines one up on your forefinger nail.

“That fit?” he asks.

You look away from him to examine the fit. “It’s perfect. You’re good at this.”

“It’s not rocket science.”

“Yet most people mess it up.”

Tim puts the other sizes back in the box and opens the nail glue, flitting his eyes to the instructions again.

“If I mess up, you can get them fixed before Valentine’s Day, right?” he checks, looking up at you.

“I won’t have to.” Tim continues to look at you, so you sigh and say, “Yes, I can.”

With a firm nod, Tim applies a thin layer of glue to the first nail, then lines it up with your cuticle. He places your hand on his left palm, then gently presses the nail down with his right thumb. When he finishes, he tilts your hand gently to check it, then moves to the next nail.

“I can’t do my skincare while these set,” you remember as he finishes one hand and moves to the next. “Ooh, they look great though. Thank you!”

Tim mumbles what you assume is you’re welcome. He’s focused on you and doing this correctly for you, so you watch him with a smile. He closes the nail glue and slides it into the box after the last nail is secure.

“Look good?” he asks.

You nod and pucker your lips, requesting a kiss. Tim leans forward and kisses you, then pulls back and opens the cabinet with all your skincare.

“Which face wash?” he asks.

“The oil cleanser, please. It’s the orange-y one,” you reply. “I can do it in thirty minutes.”

“We need to leave in an hour, let’s get a head start.”

“I love you,” you say.

“I love you,” Tim replies. “But stop talking, I’d hate to accidentally waterboard you this early in the day.”

“Later, then,” you agree with a nod.

“Maybe you are the funny one,” Tim muses as he wipes a wet washcloth across your forehead. “Feel okay?”

You nod, and Tim gently washes your face. He lifts your chin and moves his fingers in gentle circles, imitating your motions – the ones he has watched reverently, in awe of you, many nights as he waits for you to return to his side.

“Moisturizer, right?” Tim checks as he pats your neck dry.

“The Estee Lauder crème. It’s still in the bag,” you request. “I really like the night stuff.”

“It smells good,” Tim muses as he uncaps the moisturizer.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going for brunch, so I know what to wear?” you ask.

“Your outfit’s on the bed,” he says rather than answering. “Makeup?”

“Uhm,” you hum, dragging out the sound as you turn to look in the lighted mirror behind you. “I think just lipstick, brows, blush, bronzer, and mascara. Unless I need a full face?”

“Your face is perfect like it is,” Tim mumbles as he replaces the moisturizer into the pink bag and retrieves your new lipstick.

“But you’re the pretty one,” you remind him.

Tim shakes his head as he raises a bronzer from your custom makeup drawer – which he built (with some help from Nolan) and installed for you. You nod, and he sets it by the sink as he gathers the other items you mentioned.

“Do you think the Dior Addict Lip Glow would go with this lipstick?” you ask.

“As much as I love you and enjoy touching you face,” Tim begins. “I have no idea.”

You frown before you say, “Maybe I should return you then.”

“You could find another Valentine by tomorrow.”

“Kojo, for sure.”

“Oh, yeah, he’d be honored,” Tim agrees. “Unfortunately, he’s spending Valentine’s Day with Lucy.”

“Ah, so he’s nearly as spoiled as I am.”

“Probably more.”

Tim finishes cleaning up the minimal mess he made, organizes your makeup how you apply it, and then returns to you. He faces away from you, bends his knees, and hooks his hands behind your calves to pull you forward.

“I can walk,” you argue, smiling as you wrap your arms over his shoulders.

He stands, lifting you into a piggyback carry as your nails finish setting. “Better safe than sorry.”

In the Waldorf Astoria Beverly Hills elevator, you shift under Tim’s arm.

“Sorry,” you say softly. “These heels are new.”

Tim looks down at the shoes he bought you the last time you took him shopping. “Do they fit?”

“Yeah, just need to be broken in, I think,” you reply. “They’re just pinching under my ankles a little bit.”

The elevator opens on the rooftop, and Tim removes his arm from your shoulders to hold your hand. He gives his name at the door of The Rooftop Beverly Hills, and you’re quickly seated with a panoramic view of Beverly Hills and the Los Angeles skyline. Tim sits on the same side of the table as you and holds your hand in his lap as you read the menu together.

“Celebrating Valentine’s Day early?” the chef asks as he checks that the patrons enjoy their meals.

“Not exactly,” Tim answers. “Just enjoying some time together.”

“Well, you’re a beautiful couple. Order anything from the menu, I can prepare whatever you’d like.”

“Thank you,” you reply with Tim.

After he leaves, you whisper, “This place is expensive, Tim. Let me pay half the bill as part of my Valentine’s Day gift to you?”

You bat your eyelashes, and Tim considers your request.

“Sure,” he decides.

Yet, fifteen minutes later, he excuses himself to use the restroom and pays the bill without telling you.

In the parking garage, you hold Tim’s arm as you attempt to keep weight off your ankles, regretting wearing brand-new shoes on a date.

“I can go get the truck or I can carry you to it,” Tim offers. “Your choice.”

“I can wait here, if you’re sure,” you reply.

Tim smiles, kisses your forehead, promises to return quickly, and then jogs into the parking garage. He should’ve splurged for the valet, he thinks.

“Good morning,” a man greets as he exits a Ferrari illegally parked in a handicap space.

“Morning,” you reply.

He drops his eyes to your dress, then down your legs to your sleek back heels. You cross your arms over your chest uncomfortably, watching for Tim.

“You’re very pretty,” the man continues as he walks toward you. “I’m Jett.”

You begin to reply that you’re not interested, but he continues talking.

“Are you staying here or just having a Galentine’s-type thing?” he asks. “Pretty girl like you probably has a lot of friends.”

“I-“

“I got my ‘Rari as a Valentine’s Day gift to myself a few years ago,” he brags, clearly flexing his arms as he slides his hands into his pockets. “Say, what about a Valentine’s Day ride? I’d be happy to take you out tomorrow.”

He moves closer to you as he speaks, and you step back, ignoring the pain from your heels. You look toward the ramp, but Tim isn’t back yet.

“I’m not interested,” you say as he waits for an answer.

“C’mon,” he presses, reaching for your arm. “It’s not marriage, just a drive.”

A car door slams and you look up quickly. The tension in your shoulders eases when Tim walks around the front of his truck.

“Back up,” he demands lowly. “Nobody teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

The creep beside you – whose name you’ve forgotten – dares to laugh and stay beside you. “How ‘bout you get back in your cheap little truck and let us get back to our conversation?” he tells Tim.

Tim’s jaw ticks as observes the man, and then his eyes flit to you and soften.

“I already told you no,” you say.

“Babe,” the man sighs, raising his arm to wrap it around you.

Tim lifts the hand closest to you, and you take it as you move to stand behind him.

“She said no,” Tim reiterates darkly. “If I have to tell you no, you won’t be able to do this again, even if you wanted to. So do everybody a favor and go.”

The man looks at you over Tim’s shoulder and scoffs.

“Whatever. She isn’t even that hot,” he mumbles as he walks toward the elevator.

Tim doesn’t move as he watches him until the doors close. Then, his muscles relax, his fingers slot between yours, and he turns to face you.

“You okay?” he inquires.

“Yes,” you promise, squeezing his hand gently. “Thank you.”

Tim looks at your eyes, then nods when he sees that you’re okay. He helps you into the passenger seat of his truck and leans across you to buckle your seatbelt. As he prepares to close the door, you extend your arm and say, “Wait.” You lean out carefully and point to the Ferrari. “He parked illegally.”

Tim smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “That is the best Valentine’s Day gift you could give me.”

“Hey! You didn’t let me pay!” you realize as he closes the door and calls dispatch.

“Weird,” you murmur as you lock your phone and set it aside.

Tim raises his arm and invites you to curl up at his side before he asks, “What’s weird?”

“My streaming services should have renewed this week, but none of them were charged yet.”

“I paid for them,” Tim says, navigating through the comedy section of one of the aforementioned services.

“What? Why?”

“I watch all of it with you,” he points out as if that’s reason enough.

You know better than to argue with Tim, and you know it’s part of how he shows love, even if you wish he’d let you show some in return. The key to loving Tim Bradford, you’ve realized, is knowing that he doesn’t give and receive love in the same way. After you realized that he loves spending time with you, hearing your voice, and knowing you’re close, you learned how to love Tim Bradford with the same intensity he loves you – just in your way.

“It’s almost Valentine’s Day,” you remind him as the sun sets. “We could watch a rom-com and no one could judge you.”

“The people who would judge me are under the impression I’m living in one,” he replies, smiling as he tugs you closer.

“That makes you the rom, and I’m the com, right?”

“Just for that, we’re watching basketball.”

February 14th – Valentine’s Day

A gentle sea breeze blows across the deck as you tell Tim about the heart-shaped cupcakes you want to make. His hand had been on the back of your chair as you ordered, but now that you have his full attention, his fingers find their way up, toying with the end of your hair as he nods with your explanation and enjoys your excitement.

Tim wraps your hair around his fingers, then gathers it in his palm and lifts it gently before repeating his loving ministrations. You feel his movements against your exposed back and eventually trail off, meeting Tim’s eyes as he watches you.

“Do you want to make them tonight?” he asks. “We can stop at the store after we leave.”

“We can make them another day,” you answer. “I don’t want today to end.”

“There will be more Valentine’s Days.”

“But they won’t be the same. This one… Today has been perfect because of you.”

“And I’ll try to make the rest perfect too.”

“So, you really don’t care that your friends think you’re whipped, and you wouldn’t do something you didn’t want to just because I’m younger and you care about me?”

Tim sits straight in his seat, and his hand spreads across your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Valentine’s Day is a day on the calendar-“ he begins.

“It’s a weekend with you,” you interrupt.

“It’s a day on the calendar,” he repeats firmly. “But this – what we have – it’s forever. I enjoy doing things for you, getting things for you, and spending time with you. But I love you. You. Not what my friends think or the fact that you called me a cradle robber a few weeks ago. I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re the only one I want.”

“And the princess treatment is part of that. So don’t ever question that I care about you, and I want to do all of this for you. Whether it’s February 14th or June 30th.”

“What’s June 30th?” you ask with a smile.

“An example,” he replies, chuckling. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Tim pushes his fingers into your hair, tipping your head gently, lovingly, as he kisses you. Waves lap peacefully onto the shore beneath you, and you lean against Tim as the perfect night in the perfect relationship continues.

“Hey, where’d you learn the term princess treatment, king?” you ask, attempting to hide your smile.

“The same person who told me about the free Estee Lauder gift bag.”

“They never give things away for free.”

Tim shrugs, and you kiss him once more before someone delivers a dozen red roses and another gift bag with your dinner.

[2pndr]

Secret In a Winter Wonderland - Part One

Sequel to Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

A/N: Split into two parts to give y'all a little Valentine's day gift. Enjoy!

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

6.8k words

It just sits there. Menacingly.

A reflective abyss on your bedside table, pulling your gaze in, swallowing it whole. Its surface is dark, still, resolute, offering up nothing but your own tired reflection.

Your elbows press into your knees, fingers interlocked, chin resting lightly as you watch. A restless sort of stillness settles over you, like a held breath, stretched thin. You tell yourself it’s ridiculous—this quiet expectation, this fixation on a single moment. And yet, here you are, transfixed, as if sheer willpower could make the inevitable happen just a little faster.

You gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back.

Time slows. Your mind stills. You achieve a brief, bastardised nirvana—one born not of inner peace, but sheer unrelenting anticipation. 

Your heightened state of awareness sharpens every detail around you: the distant hum of the heater battling the cold, the way the floor creaks when you shift your weight, the faint ticking of a clock you don’t remember ever buying. You can even smell your own existence—morning breath, yesterday’s worn clothes, and the distant, ghostly trace of whatever your neighbor was cooking at fuck-it-O’clock.

Not that any of it matters. The world outside could be crumbling, sucked up into the sky and you’d still be here. Watching. Waiting.

Then—a familiar tune, handpicked by you. A tremor escapes the abyss, shivering through the table. You see it. You feel it.

The abyss stirs to life, the darkness awakening into a symphony of colour and you’re met with what you’ve been so anxiously waiting for...

Hyoon is live: glorp

“OH COME THE FUCK ON!”

You groan, flopping backward onto your bed, phone queued to be crushed in your hand. The fuck does ‘glorp’ even mean? The worst part? You don’t even remember following Hyoon. So either, you’re under some algorithmic curse, or it’s some divine punishment for your hubris of hope.

You glare at the abyss. The abyss sneers back.

It doesn't have any appendages but you swear to god if it did, it’d be flipping you off.

With a sigh, you swipe the notification away, telling yourself it’s fine. It’s not like you were waiting for a message from Minjeong or anything. 

….Okay, you totally were.

She was probably just busy, right? Or sleeping in? Or—God forbid—had actually forgotten.

A childish concern to be sure. But one that torments you anyway.

Every morning for the past few days, you’d woken up to her cheerful messages—a jolly “good morning”, a lively teasing, or if you were really lucky, a video call where she’d spend half the time hiding her face because she “looks ugly without makeup!” 

 Today, though, there’s nothing. 

You shake your head, trying to push it down. It’s not like you’re entitled to a text. You’re not even dating. You’re just… close. Close enough that something about today just feels off. Close enough that your past five mornings have come to revolve around this one, singular moment.

So, you do the only reasonable thing you can: bury yourself beneath the covers and pretend none of this is happening.

For a minute, it almost works. The warmth of your blankets, the lingering sleepiness clinging to your limbs—it all lulls you into a state of half-consciousness, where the world is soft and Minjeong exists only in vague, glowing, adorable impressions. The sound of her laugh, the way she hides her face when she’s flustered, the warmth in her eyes when she—

Ding-dong.

The fucking doorbell.

You groan, dragging yourself out of bed with all the enthusiasm of a man heading to the gallows. Who the hell even—

Knock knock knock.

Followed by a pause. And then—

Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock.

You grit your teeth. Whoever it is, I swear to God—

Ding-dong.

The doorbell again.

“I’m coming!” you snap, voice sharper than intended. The knocking stops immediately. But just as you reach the door, you swear you hear a faint giggle on the other side.

The door swings open, and—

“Surprise!”

Minjeong.

She stands there, cheeks flushed from the cold, snowflakes clinging to her adorable little beanie. Her navy coat is buttoned up to her chin, uniting with her scarf  to make her look impossibly cozy. Her smile is wide, bright, her voice honey-smooth with that gorgeous teasing lilt.

She wasn’t ignoring you. She was here.

And then she lunges.

Before you can react, she wraps her arms around you, her face burying into you. It’s abrupt—too quick for someone as shy as Minjeong usually is—but her grip is firm, almost desperate. Like she’s been holding onto this impulse for days and finally gets to give in.

You hesitate for half a second before your arms come up to reciprocate. Maybe it’s  just your imagination. Or maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder, because she’s warm. Too warm for someone who was just trudging about in the snow.

It takes you a moment to realize she’s not letting go. Not immediately. Not like a casual greeting. Instead, she lingers—because staying here, just like this, feels right in a way neither of you want to break just yet.

“I missed you,” She mumbles into your chest.

And you missed her. But you just hold her tighter, letting your arms say it for you.

She lingers. Long enough that you feel her breathing even out, long enough that the cold on her coat fades, long enough that when she finally pulls back, it’s slow, reluctant—she doesn't quite want to let go.

And frankly, you don’t want to either.

Her hands hesitate at your sides, fingers curling like she might change her mind and stay just a little longer. But then she exhales, a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, and steps back, tucking a stray strand of white hair behind her ear.

Minjeong looks up at you, her expression unreadable for a moment—something between embarrassment and contentment. Then, like a switch flipping, she schools her face into something more familiar: light, teasing, joyful.

“Now,” she begins, the corners of her lips curling as if nothing had happened, “are you ready for today, or do you need a few minutes to stop looking like you just rolled out of bed?”

*

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always hated Christmas.

(Yeah, you can’t believe you were like that either.)

It’s a sentiment that had you aptly nicknamed “The Grinch" by those unfortunate enough to be in your circle. Minus the Jim Carrey charisma, of course.

It wasn’t the bitter winter chill that seemed to ignore flesh, or the gaudy over-saturation of red and green that plagued the city. Not even the endless loop of Mariah Carey that played everywhere three months in advance seemed to get to you.

…Alright, maybe a little bit.

What did get to you, though, was that gnawing feeling, one that lingered throughout the year, lurking beneath, only exposing itself in all its agonizing glory during the holiday season.

You were alone. And worse than that—you felt like you always would be.

It was something you had long come to terms with. You thought yourself someone incapable of forming new connections, that chance hindered by the fear of fucking up every possible interaction you ever had.

Then she came along and shattered your whole worldview.

It was effortless with her. Conversations would flow without you overthinking every word. Silences weren’t awkward either—they just were. She laughed at your dumb jokes, complimented you like she’d known you forever and listened in a way that made you feel like you actually mattered.

It felt like you didn’t have to try so hard.  And for the first time in a very, very long time, you weren’t on the outside looking in.

Honestly, you had your friends to thank for that. Funny how that worked—they were the ones who begged you to go on that ridiculous Christmas quadruple date in the first place, even bribing you to come along. 

You went that night thinking you were doing them a favor. But now? Not even a week into knowing her?

You look over and smile.

You can’t imagine a world without Kim Minjeong.

“I do have eyebrows,” she huffs beside you.

You blink. “What?”

Minjeong glares, cheeks puffing out just slightly—an expression you’ve seen before, but never this close. “You were staring at them.”

It takes you a second to catch up, your brain still half-lost in the warmth of your own thoughts. Then it clicks.

Oh. This again.

“You’re still on about that?” you say, fighting a smirk.

She turns her head sharply, huffing like you’ve insulted her honor. “You literally said it the other day.”

“I never said you don’t have eyebrows,” you defend, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I just said they’re, you know… subtle.”

“They’re not subtle!” she argues, gesturing vaguely at her face.

“I mean, they kind of are,” you tease, tilting your head as if re-evaluating them. “Like, if I had to describe them, I’d say they’re… elusive.”

She gasps, scandalised, smacking your arm with a force that doesn’t match her size. You wince dramatically, rubbing the spot, but it’s worth it to see the way her pout deepens.

You had brought it up during one of those lucky wake-up video calls, mostly because it had been the first time you’d ever seen her completely barefaced. Her hair was damp, eyelids heavy and yet she still looked so goddamn adorable and huggable and a thousand more adjectives for how endearing she always was—not that you had the guts to say any of them out loud. Instead, your brain had done what it always did in moments of vulnerability: it scrambled for something stupid to say.

And somehow, that stupid thing had been, “Huh. You really weren’t lying about the eyebrow thing.”

Minjeong had instantly slapped a hand over her forehead, shrieking in horror while you laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone.

“You’re just twisting my words,” you say now, unable to resist teasing her further. “I never said you don’t have them.”

She scoffs, turning back to you with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “You implied it.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“I should put my fist in your mouth.”

The deadpan delivery nearly makes you wheeze. You can’t help but chuckle, “Well, whatever helps you sleep at night. Eyebrow-less or not.”

Minjeong groans in exasperation, dragging a hand down her face, but there’s no real ire there. If anything, you catch one of her signature smiles ready to burst out.

The banter drifts into silence—the two of you aren’t exactly conversationalists—but you don’t mind, and neither does she. It’s a comfortable silence.

Because even though neither of you are brave enough to admit it, you both know the other wants to be there.

Minjeong turns her head away at the thought, a little too quickly—she’s hoping you won’t catch the flush creeping up her cheeks. The glow of the streetlights isn’t doing her any favors, painting her in warm golds that give her more attention than she’d probably like. She clears her throat, stuffing her hands deeper into her pockets, the attempt at nonchalance falling apart when she shifts closer—just slightly—enough that her arm brushes against yours before she freezes, like she’s debating whether to move away again.

She doesn’t.

You pretend not to notice, and she pretends she doesn’t want you to. But the heat lingers where your arms continue to blissfully collide, warming you unlike your coats and scarves ever could.

And for the first time in forever, the city around you doesn’t feel quite so cold.

*

It occurs to you that neither you or her really go out that much.

Because frankly, you’re both in awe.

The market feels like a wellspring of life: the countless people weaving in and out of stalls, the gorgeous glow of lanterns swaying in the wind, the scent of whatever divine snack that old auntie is cooking up. It all feels like something out of a fairytale—like a place where time slows down for a little while.

Beside you, Minjeong takes it all in with quiet wonder, her hands tucked deep into her coat pockets. She’s always been the type to observe rather than dive right in, (at least you guess it is—it’s how you are, after all) but today, she looks lighter—like she’s letting herself enjoy the moment, letting herself be here, with you.

And for that reason, your chest feels warmer than it should.

You watch as she slows near a stall selling candied strawberries, gaze lingering for just a second too long before she shakes her head and keeps walking.

“You know,” you start, stuffing your hands into your own pockets, “there’s something kinda nice about today.”

Minjeong tilts her head toward you. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” You glance up at the lights overhead. “New Year’s Day always feels… different. Like a reset. No pressure, no expectations—just a fresh start.”

She hesitates mid-step. It’s brief, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

When you glance at her, she’s looking down at the stone path beneath her feet, her lips pressing together like she’s trying to hide a reaction.

“…Yeah,” she says after a moment, her voice quieter than before. “It’s kinda the point, no?.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you just shrug and keep walking.

The subject drifts, and soon enough, Minjeong’s energy picks up again. She tugs you toward different food stalls, eyes flicking between them like she’s looking through a magazine

“Hotteok sounds good,” she muses, then immediately wavers. “But tteokbokki is, like, a classic…”

She stands there for ages, bouncing on her heels, muttering under her breath—“Sweet or spicy? Ugh, why is this so hard?”—before finally throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Okay, both!” she  finally declares, turning to you like it was the obvious answer all along.

You watch as Minjeong receives the hotteok from the vendor like a child on Christmas day, holding it up to you with the biggest smile on her face. She hands it to you as she practically skips over to the tteokbokki vendor.

The vendor eyes you both with a knowing smile as she hands over the food.

“You two make such a cute couple,” she says, her voice warm, like she’s seen this scene a hundred times before.

You and Minjeong freeze at the exact same time.

Your first instinct is to correct her, to say something—anything—but Minjeong doesn’t. She doesn’t argue, doesn’t scoff, doesn’t even look at you. Instead, she just quietly takes the tteokbokki, her fingers wrapping around the warm paper cup, and murmurs a soft, barely audible, “Thank you.”

You clear your throat, shifting slightly on your feet. “Uh, yeah—thanks.”

Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you correct her.

Because the thing is—being mistaken for Minjeong’s boyfriend doesn’t feel wrong. It doesn’t feel like some ridiculous, impossible idea.

It feels like something you could get used to.

The thought follows you as you both take a seat at a vacant table, Minjeong carefully blowing on a piece of rice cake before taking a bite. She scrunches her nose slightly at the spice, and without thinking, you nudge a drink from the vending machine closer to her. She takes it wordlessly, sipping at it with a warm smile and sigh of relief.

Yeah. You could really get used to this.

She puts the drink back on the table and freezes.

You barely catch it—the way her fingers falter around the bottle,  how her eyes widen slightly before she ducks her head, shoulders curling inward. It’s quick, so quick that if you weren’t looking at her, you would’ve missed it entirely.

Then, as if on instinct, she suddenly moves closer to you, pressing into your side ever so slightly.

“What—?” you begin, but she shushes you, fingers wrapping around your sleeve as she subtly angles herself away.

“Move.”

“Move where?”

“Just—stay still.”

You frown, about to question her, when you follow her gaze toward the other side of the market.

Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning.

They’re not exactly hiding well—huddled together behind a food stall, peeking out from behind a cart of roasted sweet potatoes, whispering among themselves. The moment you make eye contact, Ning Ning grins.

Oh.

Minjeong groans under her breath, already knowing what’s about to happen. And before you can say anything, she stands up, spins on her heel and speed-walks straight behind a stack of crates.

You blink, staring at the spot where she was just standing. Then at the girls making their way toward you with far too much mischief in their eyes.

“Hey,” Karina greets smoothly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You sigh. “Heeeeey.”

“You know,” Giselle starts, tilting her head, “we were wondering if you’ve seen Minjeong. She left the apartment really early this morning.”

“Super early,” Ning Ning adds.

“So early,” Karina echoes, nodding solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow, trying your best to keep your expression neutral. “Really?” You pretend to think to yourself before concluding: “Sorry, got no idea.”

There’s a beat of silence as the three of them stare at you expectantly.

Giselle crosses her arms. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“She’s not here?” Ning Ning presses.

“Nope.”

Karina hums, shifting her weight onto one foot. “So you’re just… out here. Alone. At a New Year’s market. With two cups of tteokbokki?”

The anxiety in your laugh is about as subtle as a shotgun shot. “Guys gotta eat.”

“Right,” Giselle nods, teasing. “And you were just talking to yourself earlier, huh?”

You shrug. “Well uh—Sometimes, you gotta have a conversation with the only person who truly understands you.”

“You always buy two drinks?”

“Thirst like a camel,” you take a sip.

Ning Ning gestures to the table. “And the second set of chopsticks?”

“Better safe than sorry.”

There’s a long silence. Any more questions and you’ll be out of clichés. 

Karina exhales a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Wow.”

Giselle looks impressed. “I gotta admit, you’re committed.”

“Yeah, I respect it,” Ning Ning nods. “But also, you suck at lying.”

Your lips press together in a flat line, eyes narrowing in annoyance, but before you can say anything, Karina suddenly sighs. “Oh well. I guess since Minjeong isn’t here, I should probably tell you how much she talks about you back home.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly. “Oh?” 

Sorry, Minjeong. You’re gonna have to hear this one.

“Mhm,” Karina muses, crossing her arms. “She’s always going on about how cut—”

“I SWEAR TO GOD, KARINA.”

Minjeong bursts from her hiding spot so fast she nearly knocks over a stand. You can just about see lightning start to materialise around her as the sky turns a few shades darker. You’ve never heard her yell—never even seen her truly angry, and yet, even with all that irritation boiling over, she still manages to be her enchantingly charming self.  She scrambles to steady herself, cheeks flaring with embarrassment, glaring daggers at her friends as they burst into laughter.

“There you are!” all three sarcastically remark as schrodinger’s eyebrows narrow at their chortling.

Before you can even think to react, Minjeong suddenly dashes and all but throws herself behind you, gripping the back of your coat like a shield against the relentless teasing.

“You guys are the worst,” she hisses, voice muffled slightly from where she’s pressed her forehead against your shoulder.

You blink, your mind caught somewhere between amused and a little stunned at how quickly she’s decided you are now her human barricade. The warmth of her fingers clinging to your sleeve is distracting—almost as distracting as the way her embarrassment is now being shared with you as you’re forced to stare down her friends.

Giselle folds her arms, grinning like she’s just been handed the juiciest gossip of her life. “What’s wrong Minjeong? We couldn’t just miss your very first date!”

Minjeong groans, squeezing the fabric of your coat like she’s physically bracing herself. “It’s not a date.”

“Uh-huh.” Ning Ning nods sagely. “ Let’s see, you came here together. Are eating together. Laughing together.  And if I do say so myself,” she giggles  “looking just the cutest together.”

Now you wish you had a human shield to hide behind.

Minjeong tugs your coat harder. You’re not sure if it’s for comfort or because she’s planning on suffocating herself in it and retorts,“Oh, shut up.”

Karina sighs, pulling out her phone with the kind of enthusiasm only a proud mother could have, already angling for the perfect shot. “Well, whether it’s a date or not, we should probably get a photo to commemorate the occasion.”

Minjeong’s grip tightens to a death hold. “No.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Karina says, already tapping at her screen. “It’s an important day.”

“For what?” Minjeong demands, voice high and outraged.

Giselle smirks. “Your anniversary, duh.”

Minjeong makes a noise like she’s about to combust on the spot.

You laugh, glancing down at her, still very much using you as a human shield. If this were you a week ago, you’d probably want to protest as much as she does—but something about annoying this girl just feels right. 

“I mean, if they’re offering…” you tease.

She jerks her head up to glare at you, her mortification morphing into mild betrayal. “Not. Helping.”

You grin, but before you can say anything else, Karina is already holding up her phone. “Alright, lovebirds, get closer.”

“We are close,” Minjeong deadpans, considering she is quite literally glued to your side.

Ning Ning waves a hand. “Closer.”

Minjeong groans in defeat but doesn’t move away. Instead, she grumbles something under her breath before begrudgingly tilting her head so it rests lightly against your arm.

Your stomach does a backflip.

Click.

Karina inspects the photo with a satisfied nod before showing it to the others. “That’s a keeper.”

“Oh yeah,” Giselle agrees, smirking at Minjeong. “We’re sending this to your mum.”

Minjeong stiffens. “Do not send that to my mum.”

“No promises.”

She lets out the longest sigh of her life, looking utterly done with everything and everyone.

Finally, Karina tucks her phone away with a little smirk. “Alright, we’ll leave you guys to it. But don’t have too much fun without us, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ning Ning winks. “We’ll see you two lovebirds at the B—New Year’s party later.”

Minjeong doesn’t even fight it this time, just slumps further against your side as they wave goodbye and disappear into the crowd. Then, with the heaviest sigh yet, she finally looks up at you.

“…I can’t believe I’m friends with them.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement.

She narrows her eyes. “And you—” she jabs a finger into your arm, still not letting go of your sleeve. “You totally threw me under the bus back there.”

“How?”

“The photo! You helped them.”

You grin. “What’s wrong? I bet it was cute.”

Minjeong stares at you, lips parting slightly before she scoffs, crossing her arms. “Oh yeah? And what makes you think that?”

You tilt your head, considering. Then, with an easy shrug, you say, “Because you’re in it.”

Cheesy? You’re goddamn right. 

There’s a pause, though.

A very long pause.

Minjeong’s mouth opens, then closes again. Her cheeks start turning pink at an alarming rate, and for a second, she looks like she might explode. Then, with a sharp exhale, she turns her head away, grumbling under her breath.

“Don’t think just because you complimented me, I’m not still angry,” she mutters.

She says that, but you can’t help but notice she’s still wrapped herself around your sleeve.

Yeah, you could get really, really used to this.

*

The mall doors slide open with a rush of warm air, a stark contrast to the chill still clinging to your coats. Minjeong is latched onto your sleeve, the way she has been ever since your run in with her friends.

She doesn’t seem to notice.

And you don’t mention it.

Instead, you take in the change of scenery: crowds still weaving—only this time through stores—holiday decorations glinting under bright overhead lights, and the distant hum of Mariah Carey playing from the food court.

(It’s almost been a week, you muppets.)

You notice a couple, standing close near the entrance of a boutique. The girl is holding onto her partner’s sleeve, much like Minjeong is doing now. They exchange quiet words, laughter curling into the air between them, before the guy leans down—pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Minjeong stiffens.

And then—like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar—her hand is gone.

The warmth of her grip vanishes in an instant. She tucks her hands into her coat pockets, glancing away so fast you’d think she just witnessed something scandalous. The tips of her ears glow red beneath the strands of hair peeking out from her beanie.

Your brain stalls for a moment, your own face heating. You need to say something. Anything.

And so, with the smooth eloquence of a man who has definitely not just had his brain scrambled, you mumble, “Drinks,” pointing to the café conveniently in the opposite direction of the couple. 

Minjeong exhales, a breathy sort of laugh slipping out as she latches onto the suggestion like it’s a life raft. “Yes. Drinks would be nice.”

Neither of you comment on the fact that her voice is about an octave higher than usual.

*

As is expected of the new year, the café is quite full, but you manage to snag a small table near the window. Minjeong sits across from you, her hands wrapped around her cup like it’s a small, comforting anchor. She takes an absentminded sip, letting out a tiny, pleased hum at the taste.

“I think I won,” she says after a moment, her voice soft but with a hint of pride. She glances at your drink, then back at hers. “Mine’s better.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Bold claim. What did you even get?”

“Hazelnut latte,” she says, lifting her cup slightly as if to prove her point. “It’s… really good. Like, reeeeally good.”

You nod slowly, playing along. “And you’re sure it’s not just, I don’t know, sugar disguised as coffee?”

She gives you a look, half-amused, half-unimpressed. “It’s balanced. You wouldn’t understand.” Her tone is as casual as can be, but you feel like she’s trying a little too hard to keep the conversation going. It’s not hard to guess why. The memory of the couple near the boutique is etched into your eyelids. It too haunts you.

So, you humor her. “Alright, Miss Coffee Connoisseur. Prove it.”

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze flickering to your drink. Then, with a quiet determination, she reaches over, takes your cup, and lifts it to her lips. You blink, caught off guard, as she takes a careful sip. She lowers the cup, her lips pressing together thoughtfully before she nods.

“…Yep. Mine’s better,” she declares, setting your drink back down in front of you. Her voice is steady, but the tips of her ears are pink, and she quickly tucks her hands back into her lap.

You exhale a quiet chuckle, shaking your head as you take the cup back. You take another sip, only to pause. There’s something faintly sweet on the rim—something that wasn’t there before. It takes you a second to place it: her lip balm. 

The realization makes your face warm, but you don’t mention it. Instead, you glance at her, only to find her already looking away, her focus suddenly very intent on her own drink.

And just like you feel one step closer to being that couple.

*

The two of you drift through the mall almost aimlessly. 

Lunch together, getting mistaken for a couple, her clinging to your sleeve, coffee, her lip balm on the rim of your cup. It’s all there, lingering in your mind's eye.

The idea strikes you suddenly, almost impulsively: you should buy her something. A small token, maybe, to mark the day. After all, she’s been by your side through all of it, even when things got awkward.

 It feels right.

“Hey,” you say, nodding toward a gift shop. “Let’s check it out.”

Minjeong glances at the shop, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she shakes her head, her voice soft but firm. “It’s just a gift shop. We don’t need to go in.”

You shrug, already stepping toward the entrance. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Maybe they have something cool.”

She hesitates, but she follows you in anyway, though her steps are noticeably slower than yours. The shop is cozy, filled with shelves of trinkets, plush toys, and holiday-themed knickknacks. You start browsing almost immediately, picking up a snow globe and giving it a shake. Minjeong lingers near the entrance, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“Look at this,” you say, holding up a small, glittery keychain. “Isn’t this kind of your vibe?”

She glances at it, her expression neutral. “It’s… shiny.”

“Exactly,” you say, grinning. “Shiny is good.”

She doesn’t respond, her gaze drifting to a nearby shelf. You move on, picking up a stuffed reindeer and holding it out to her. “What about this? It’s cute, right?”

She eyes it for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess.”

Her lack of enthusiasm is starting to feel deliberate, but you press on, determined to find something she’ll like. You hold up a scented candle, a notebook with a floral design, even a pair of fuzzy socks. Each time, her responses are polite but distant, her tone clipped.

Finally, you turn to her, holding up a small, delicate bracelet. “Okay, what about this? It’s simple. Classy. Totally you.”

She looks at it, then at you, her expression softening for just a moment before she shakes her head. “You don’t need to buy me anything,” she says, her voice quieter now. “Really.”

There’s something in her tone—something almost pleading—that makes you pause. You lower the bracelet, studying her face. “Why not? It’s just a little something. ”

She looks away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s not that. I just… don’t need anything. Let’s go.”

Her insistence feels strange, almost out of character, but you don’t push it. Instead, you set the bracelet back on the shelf and follow her out of the shop. As you step back into the mall, she exhales softly, almost like she’s relieved.

You glance at her, trying to read her expression, but she’s already walking ahead, her hands back in her pockets. There’s a distance between you now, physical, yes, but also something you can’t quite name. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but the words don’t come. Instead, you fall into step beside her, the silence between you uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

*

You’re wrestling with the idea that you fucked things up.

Minjeong is still walking beside you, but something feels… off. The usual rhythm between you—the comfortable silences, the easy back-and-forth—it’s not quite there anymore. You keep replaying the moment over in your head, dissecting every word, every hesitation in her voice. Was it too much? Did I push too hard?

She looked relieved when you dropped it. That’s what gets to you the most.

You risk a glance at her. She looks normal enough—hands tucked in her pockets, gaze flitting over the decorations lining the streets—but now that you’re paying attention, you notice the way she keeps her shoulders just a little too stiff, her head angled to the floor like she’s deep in thought.

You want to fix it. Whatever it is.

But you don’t know how.

And so, as the two of you step into the crisp winter night, a quiet, creeping fear settles in your gut—

Maybe you ruined the day.

You’re half considering diving head first into the snow when she finally turns to look up at you.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.”

Oh thank God.

You blink,“You’re not?”

Minjeong raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Do I look mad?”

You hesitate. “…A little?”

She rolls her eyes, sighing like you’re the most dramatic person she’s ever met. “Well, I’m not,” she says, shifting her weight. “So you can stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

The tension in your chest loosens, but not completely. “Are you sure? Because if this is one of those ‘I’m fine’ situations where you’re actually seething and plotting my demise, I’d rather know now.”

That earns you a small huff of laughter, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “I promise I’m not mad. I just…” She pauses, her gaze flickering away for a brief second before she shrugs. “I don’t really like receiving gifts. That’s all.”

Something about the way she says it, the way her hands burrow even deeper into her pockets, makes you think it’s not all. But she’s looking at you so earnestly, like she’s hoping you’ll just take her words at face value, and—well.

If she doesn’t want to talk about it, you won’t push.

“…Alright,” you say,“I guess that means I’ll have to keep my incredibly thoughtful, totally amazing gift ideas to myself.”

Minjeong snorts. “Tragic.”

“You have no idea.”

And just like that, the air between you feels lighter again. It’s not entirely resolved, but at least you're not back to square one. For now, it’s enough.

Enough for you to start teasing her again, that is.

“So,” you start, watching Minjeong out of the corner of your eye. “Do you really talk about me back home?”

Minjeong stiffens for half a second before tilting her head, feigning confusion. “Huh?”

“Karina said you talk about me.” You shove your hands deeper into your coat, biting back a smile. “A lot.”

She scoffs, her breath coming out in a visible puff of air. “Okay, a lot is an exaggeration.”

You give her a look.

Minjeong keeps her eyes trained ahead, jaw set. “Barely,” she amends, her voice forcibly casual. “Like, a little. A tiny bit,” she emphasizes with her fingers.

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced.

She exhales sharply through her nose, as if this whole conversation is an inconvenience. “Okay, fine—occasionally.”

You hum in response, nodding thoughtfully. “So, like... once a day?”

She clicks her tongue. “No.”

“Twice a day?”

Minjeong glares at you. “No.”

“Oh, three times?” You gasp dramatically. “Four?”

She whirls on you, cheeks dusted pink—probably from the cold, but also, maybe not. “You know what?” she says, voice a little too calm.

And then she bends down.

You blink, barely processing the movement before—

A snowball collides with your chest.

You stumble back half a step, mouth parting in surprise. Minjeong straightens, smirking in satisfaction, brushing leftover snow from her gloves.

“Oh,” you say slowly. “Oh, you wanna play that game?”

Minjeong takes a step back, as if realizing what she’s just set into motion. “Now, let’s not be rash—”

You don’t let her finish.

Your hand scoops up a fistful of snow in record time, and Minjeong yelps as she scrambles away, laughing.

She sprints toward a park bench and ducks behind it just as your snowball whizzes past her, landing harmlessly in a bush. Peeking out, she grins. “You missed.”

You shake your head, already gathering more snow. “I’m just warming up.”

Before you can throw, she lunges from her hiding spot and fires another snowball. You twist, but it still clips your shoulder, sending a flurry of cold against your neck.

“Okay—” You cough, shaking snow from your hair. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Minjeong shrieks as you charge at her. She haphazardly throws another snowball before turning to flee, but the fresh powder slows her down just enough. You scoop up more snow mid-stride, barely breaking pace as you launch it at her back.

Direct hit.

She lets out a gasp, whipping around. “Oh, you did not just—”

Another snowball grazes her arm.

Minjeong’s jaw drops. “Oh, that’s it.”

She grabs a double handful of snow and starts forming ammo at an alarming rate.

Your eyes widen. “Wait—”

Too late.

She launches one after another, relentless, laughing as you duck and scramble for cover. “Where’s all that confidence now?” she teases.

You manage to get behind a tree, pressing your back against the bark as snow explodes inches from your shoulder. “I am—” You dodge left. “—simply—” Dodge right. “—tactically retreating!”

Minjeong snorts. “Coward.”

You take a deep breath, then suddenly dash out from behind the tree. Minjeong yelps and backpedals, trying to reload, but you’re faster.

Grabbing her wrist, you spin her around—

“Got you—”

But before you can celebrate, she shoves a handful of snow directly into your face.

You freeze.

She gasps, hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide with shock at what she’s done. Then, as the snow drips from your nose, she bursts into laughter—full, unrestrained, delightfully breathless laughter.

It’s contagious. You start laughing too, shaking the ice from your hair as you both stumble back onto a patch of untouched snow.

The chase, the cold, the sheer ridiculousness of it all—it drains your energy in the best way possible.

Collapsing onto the ground beside each other, your chests heave from exertion, faces still flushed from the cold and laughter. The sky stretches above you, endless and star-studded, the park around you quiet again save for the occasional rustle of the wind.

Minjeong sighs, a contented little exhale. “That was fun.”

You turn your head to look at her. She’s smiling up at the sky, strands of hair falling loose from beneath her beanie. The moonlight catches the edges of her face, making her look softer, serene—completely different from the person who just tried to pelt you into oblivion with snowballs.

“The stars…” she practically whispers, “they’re pretty.” 

You’re sure they are. But who are you kidding? You aren’t looking at the stars.

“Yeah,” you begin, “they’re gorgeous.”

She holds her hand up to the sky, then wiggles her fingers, frowning slightly.

“But my hands are freezing,” she mutters, flexing them. “My gloves are soaked.”

You glance down at her hands, then at your own—also wet. A simple observation. A logical conclusion. And yet, the next thought sends a nervous flutter through your chest.

Should you…?

Would that be weird?

Before you can overthink it, you just move.

Pulling off your gloves, you reach over, fingers brushing against hers tentatively before you fully take her hand in yours.

Minjeong gulps.

Oh, no. She’s not saying anything.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe this was a bad idea—

“I, uh—” You swallow. Your voice sounds smaller than you expected. “Your hands are really cold.”

Her fingers are delicate against your palm, ice-cold but soft. You gently press her hand between both of yours, rubbing slow circles over her knuckles, trying to bring warmth back into them.

Minjeong still doesn’t say a word.

Your heartbeat kicks up slightly. You finally glance up to check on her—and immediately feel your entire body freeze.

She’s staring at you.

Bright red.

Like, steam-should-be-coming-out-of-her-ears red.

“…You okay?” you ask, your voice just a little too careful.

Minjeong opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Then she looks away so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. “M-more than okay...”

You let out a soft, slightly breathless chuckle, though you can still feel your own ears burning.

“Right,” you murmur, squeezing her fingers gently. 

She stays looking in the opposite direction, but—she doesn’t pull away.

You don’t either.

When your hands are of acceptable warmth, you clear your throat. “It’s getting late. We should probably go home. Get ready for the party.”

Minjeong doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she shifts, inching closer until her head lightly rests against your shoulder.

“M-Minjeong?”

“Can we stay here?” she murmurs, “just for a little longer.”

Your breath hitches.

You should be cold. The snow beneath you is biting through your coat, the chill in the air still lingers against your skin—but with Minjeong curled into you like this, the cold doesn’t seem to matter at all.

You swallow, suddenly unsure where to rest your hands—if you should move, if you should say something. But Minjeong lets herself relax into you. You glance down, only to find her eyes slipping shut, her body curling just into yours. The feeling of her pressed up beside you—even through layers of winter coats, is unmistakable.

Slowly, hesitantly, you move, lifting your arm and slipping it beneath her neck, letting her rest against you more comfortably. Your fingers brush lightly over her shoulder before settling there, holding her in place—not too tight, not too loose, but just enough.

A soft chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, resting your chin against the top of her beanie. 

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

*

Thanks for reading! Part Two coming soon :DD

[glamourscat]

FLOWERS? ISAGI YOICHI X READER

the bastard münchen vs pxg match HAS FINALLY ENDED. A lil (late Valentine’s) childhood bestie! x Isagi fic because I love him so much

Pathetic.

That’s how Isagi felt; truly and utterly pathetically in love.

It was foolish of him, really, falling for his childhood best friend. The one person who knew him better than anyone else, the one constant in his life. And yet, he had fallen anyway.

He had known you since before you could even string proper sentences together, back when the biggest problem in your tiny world was who got to play with the fluffy teddy bear. He had been there for every phase of your life, just as you had been for his.

The bad haircuts, the breakouts, the braces. The cringe stylistic choices that made you both groan whenever old pictures resurfaced. The triumphs and failures, the reckless dreams and harsh realities. Every best and worst moment you had been by each other’s side.

And because of that, maybe he should have realized sooner.

Your parents, his parents, had always teased. “You two will end up together eventually.” A statement so casual, so inevitable in their wise eyes. Maybe that was why he held back for so long. Maybe it was out of sheer defiance, or maybe it was the terrifying truth that you already saw him. Every flaw, every insecurity, every crack in his carefully built walls.

And yet, you still chose to stay.

To love someone who truly sees you, all of you, and still stays by your side? That scared the shit out of him.

But Blue Lock is over now. He felt like he had aged thirty years in that soccer prison, but it had been worth it. Because now, he was here. Walking freely through the streets with the weight of his dream in his hands. He was part of Japan’s World Cup team.

And you, his best friend, his everything, would be by his side, not just as his anchor but also as the team’s manager.

Isagi exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the selection of flowers before him.

He had faced some of the greatest strikers in the world. Outwitted geniuses on the field. Fought, struggled, won.

And yet, confessing to you on Valentine’s Day? Felt like the biggest challenge he had to yet face.

“Roses are too much, right?” he mumbled under his breath, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stared at the bouquets like they were an opposing team’s defensive lineup. Puzzle pieces hardly connecting in his brain. “I mean… yeah, they literally scream romance, but isn’t that kind of obvious? Too predictable? Shit.”

The old lady behind the counter glanced at him, unimpressed. She had seen countless lovesick fools in this exact position before, hell, today alone and Isagi fell right into that category.

Tulips? Too plain. Sunflowers? You might think he was calling you bright and cheerful, which—yeah, fair, but what if you took it as a joke? Lilies? What do lilies even mean?!

“You need help?” the florist finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admitted immediately. “I mean—yes? No. I’m just trying to figure out what flowers match a card that I, uh, may or may not have rewritten six times… as a valentines gift. Which turned out fine! I think. Maybe. Hopefully.”

The florist hummed, giving him a long, knowing look before glancing at the selection in front of her. “Alright, what kind of message are we going for here? Romantic? Sweet? ‘I’ve been in love with you since childhood and only just realized it because I’m a dumbass’?”

Isagi choked. “Why would you say it like that?!”

She gave him the flattest stare of his life. “Because that’s exactly what’s happening.”

He groaned, running a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, fair point.”

The florist smirked before plucking a bouquet from the display. “Here. Go with these. A mix of daisies, lavender and forget-me-nots. It says you care, but you’re not coming on too strong. Subtle romance, but meaningful. Perfect for an idiot in denial.”

He took the bouquet, staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. “Huh. Yeah. This… this actually works. How did you—”

“Experience, kid. Now go before you start overthinking again.”

Isagi nodded, clutching the flowers like they were the winning ball in a match. Alright. Flowers? Check. Card? Done—well, kind of. Cake? As good as it was gonna get.

Now, he just had to actually go back home and give them to you.

…Oh, shit.

This was really happening.

This might actually kill him.

He is pretty sure his heart is beating faster than the last goal he scored while playing for bastard münchen. He feels like throwing up. Was this normal? Probably not. But despite everything he wants you to know. He needs you to know that at the end of the day, pathetic or not, Isagi Yoichi is in love with you. And it was damn time he did something about it.

But for his luck, as he walked out of the flower shop, he almost crashed into someone.

“I am so—“ before he could even get the words out his soul almost came out of his body.

YOU. Out of everyone, you. In front of him. With a bouquet of flowers too. Wait, FLOWERS? Who— you…. Did— who gave you those?

“Yoichi” you say, words coming out slightly higher pitched than intended, trying to act normal, but you’re pretty sure the panicked expression you were trying to fight off with a smile came off more as you were constipated, more than anything else.

“Y/n” he says, seemingly unaware of your mental state, thankfully? Or maybe you should be worried that he was so oblivious to it.

“ Are you g—“

“Who— gave you those?” He said so quickly, not even allowing you to finish your sentence.

Your eyes fall to the flowers in your arms, if your cheeks weren’t red before, you’re pretty sure they are now.

“Who gave you those?” you say, nodding to the flowers he had in his arms. Trying to change the subject.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second”

A moment of silence before you two burst out laughing from the strange moment.

“Alright— alright. On the count of three? Together?” You says amused

One. Two. Three.

“I got them from you” you two say in unison.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

That’s what his brain was screaming. He probably looked like an absolute moron, standing there with a confused expression and jaw open as he looked at you. Huh? Him? YOU GOT FLOWERS FOR HIM— AKCKEPWLCNGIVVIFNRNWPW.

“You— eh?”

That was it. That was all his brain could come up with. World-class striker, future ace of Japan, but the second you said you got flowers for him? Immediate system failure.

You smiled, shy but warm, the edges of your expression softening in that way that was playful yet so beautiful. It made his heart feel like it was about to spontaneously combust. “Yeah, you—is that so weird?”

Yes. No. Maybe. His brain was still rebooting.

“You—you got me flowers?” he repeated, as if the words might make more sense if he said them out loud.

“I mean, yeah,” you said, shifting your weight from foot to foot. The bouquet in your arms crinkled as you fidgeted with the wrapping. “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? I figured i had to be clear because you’re so dense sometimes.”

“I’m not dense!” he argued immediately.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little dense,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the rest of the world. “But—wait, why did you…?”

The words hung heavy in the air. Why did you get me flowers?

You took a shaky breath. “Because I like you, idiot.”

“I—wait—what?” He blinked, gripping his bouquet tighter like it might hold him upright. “Like… like-like?”

“Damn… and you say you aren’t dense” a small snort left your lips. “Yes, like-like!” you huffed, but your voice trembled a little. “I’ve… kinda liked you for a while. And I figured—if I didn’t say anything today, I’d probably chicken out forever and cry myself to sleep for the next month. Maybe two.”

“You like me,” he repeated dumbly, trying to wrap his head around it.

You tilted your head, exasperated. “Yoichi, please tell me those flowers are for me or am I about to die of embarrassment right now?”

“What? NO—I mean, yes! Yes, I like you too!” The words practically exploded out of him, way louder than he meant to. “I’ve liked you since—God, I don’t even know when. Probably since that stupid teddy bear fight when we were kids.. And—” Lord, he is rambling now. “And I have made you a card. A beautiful one, I think you will like it. And a cake. Though I burnt it the first time. Maybe the second time too. But, fuck yes, I like you too”

For a second, neither of you said anything. You just stood there, two idiots clutching flowers, blushing like middle schoolers with their first crushes.

Finally, you exhaled, shaking your head as you tried not to laugh. “Wow. We’re really bad at this.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “But, like… at least we’re bad at it together?”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. “Together, huh?”

“I mean… if you want that. If you want me.” He said, trying not to look more giddy than he already is.

“I wouldn’t be standing here holding flowers and trying to not burst into flames after a confession that I definitely did not rehearse in my head twenty times for you if I didn’t, genius.”

In a rush of courage, Isagi moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, bouquets squished in between your guys’ chests. You smelled like warmth and home.

“Can I—uh,” he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, “can I kiss you?”

“Yoichi, if you don’t kiss me after all that, I’ll start overthinking and we know—.”

He doesn’t need anything else. His smile shushed you, as his lips finally met yours in a kiss that was a bit messy, yet soft and sweet. You tasted like that tea you like so much. A mix of honey, flowers and sugar that makes him greedy for more. Despite being in the middle of the sidewalk and in retrospect, he will for sure be embarrassed about the pda later.

But that’s a problem for later. Because the realisation that fuck yes, he is finally kissing you, settles in. And for the first time that day, but perhaps in his entire life, his brain went completely and blissfully quiet.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[tulpanya]

Happy Valentine's Day!

ANYA usually spends valentines alone, but since you've come along she's rather excited for it this year! When she heard you planned a date? oh, she's over the moon and spends her entire afternoon getting ready for it! She's so happy to spend the holiday with you— when you greet her, ready for the date, she sheepishly admits she also got you flowers (your favorite). Gets so giggly if you gift her little presents. Overall she loves a cute romantic dinner and a sweet walk around a park basking in the moonlight! She's looking forward to next year too, and the next, now that's she got you!

CURLY goes all out with it it's almost overwhelming. He's got expensive jewelry, the largest bouquet of flowers, trinkets you've been eyeing, a new outfit for you for your date later tonight, a fancy restaurant date. He's showering you in compliments, murmuring sweet praise into your ear all night, his hands never leave your body. He's proud to show you off and does so all nights, will likely take you dancing. His favorite part of the night though? When you two get home and he gets to cuddle (or something else) all night.

DAISUKE loves valentine's day. Pink and red decor? Cheesy romcoms? Chocolates? He's love the holiday and what better way to spend it than with the love of his life? He can't really afford a fancy restaurant but hell definitely splurge on your favorite takeout and you two can cuddle up and watch romance movies all night long. Whether judging the movie together or genuinely into it, it matters not to Daisuke because he just loves being with you. He's shyly present that he got you a gift after a few movies, his nerves on fire when you open the present. Please give him plenty of kisses bc he got you the thing you've been wanting for forever!

SWANSEA is a full believer if "valentines is a scam" and claims he refuses to partake— or at least that's what he said a few days prior. But he ultimately ends up buying you a mixed bouquet and chocolates. He'd much prefer a night in, maybe you two cooking something for dinner together. Definitely sways you around the kitchen with a cheesy valentines playlist on in the background. He's awfully sweet and affectionate for someone who claims valentine's day is a scam, but don't point this out lest you want him to get pouty.

[carmenberzattosgf]

Happy Valentine’s Day! Wishing you so much love! I had a thought I know you’ve already touched on this but surprising Carmy with a tattoo of c.b in HIS HAND WRITING like right under your breast. And he’s like feral, like saying the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard, groaning in your ear, choking…

Happy Valentine’s Day! And hehe let’s dive into this because yes. ( also reducing it down to just a C because I think it would be really hard to get a cb in his hand writing to look good.)

The hardest part of the entire thing is actually getting his handwriting for the stencil, and it not looking like a complete mess. Carmen is always in a rush, so anytime he has to sign his name for something it looks messy.

You had roped Sugar into your idea a few weeks ago, asking her to check all the documents he signs for a neatly written signature. It truly takes a few weeks, but she pulls through and sends you a copy of his neat-ish signature. Well, neat for him, anyway.

You get the tattoo on Valentine’s Day, not letting there be any chance of it getting spoiled. The tattoo artist covers it in second skin, so the “C” is still visible underneath. It’s on your rib cage, just underneath your breast.

Carmy, shockingly enough, manages to convince Sydney to let him go home early on Valentine’s Day, so he can spend the rest of the evening with you. He had already surprised you with flowers and chocolates on your nightstand when you woke up this morning. You both had already decided to spend the right in, cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

“Oh! Do you wanna see what your present is from me?” you ask with a huge grin on your face. The movie is already halfway through; he wasn’t expecting anything from you at all. Having you in his arms is as good enough present as is.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything, baby. It’s my job to get you presents.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I got you something! Can you close your eyes?”

A quick smile flashes across his face before he closes his eyes. “Okay, m’ready.”

You lean back from his hold and lift up your hoodie just enough to show off the ink. “Open!”

Carmen’s eyes go as wide as saucers when he sees his handwriting on your body—tattooed like that forever. “Holy shit—no fucking way you did that,” he says, just a little louder than a whisper. His hand comes up to your rib cage, letting his thumb trace lightly over the “C” that’s still covered in second skin. “Baby…”

“Do you like it? Do you like your present?”

Carmy shows you just how much he likes it by fucking your brains out right there on the couch. He’s relentless, hips slamming into you at a furious pace. He keeps one hand on your rib cage nearly the entire time, thumb rubbing over it idly.

He can’t keep his lips off of you, muttering filth in between kisses to your face, lips, and neck.

“Got me on you forever—you have no idea what that fucking does to me.”

“Love you so fuckin’ much—love this tattoo so fuckin’ much.”

“Going to have to get one for you next. How ‘bout right on my hip? Hmm?”

“Always been mine, baby—now you just got something to show it.”

“Oh, you like that don’t you? Having something to show who you belong to?”

“Can fucking feel how close you are. Let go baby, been such a good fucking girl for me.”

Let’s just say the tattoo is the best gift Carmy has ever received and he’s a bit of a sappy mess afterwards. He just loves you so very much, and is a little bit jealous you though of getting a tattoo for him before he got one for you.

He makes an appointment the next day to get your initials tattooed on his hip. It may or may not be at the spot you always kiss him before sucking him off.

[chaifootsteps]

Something about helluvas poor depiction of a sexually abusive relationship is so much more malicious and evil than hazbin. Because it cowers away from the fact it is one, and profits off of romanticising it. I think stoliz and angelval need to be held in the same conversation.

Every day rich powerful men sexually abuse and rape victims because money is leverage. These abusers are massively defended by the public especially if they are celebrity, “charismatic” funny, good at singing or acting. No matter what evil these abusers do, a parade of incels and pick me women with bleeding hearts (for the wrong person) will say

but she couldn’t have been sexually abused victimised by him! Look at the glamorous lifestyle! The jewellery, gifts, and fancy vacations! She’s just a gold digging thieving whore who is ashamed of her body count and wants attention.

Never mind the fact….many sex trafficking victims with high ranking famous abusers get gifts and fancy trips too. To keep the abuse secret. They have a lot on the line if they even dared say no or try to back out. All that money and “””glamour””” is blackmail material. Andrew Tate is an expert of this behaviour.

So what does vivziepop do with stolblitz?

She paints the victim of what is clearly sexual abuse as a hysteric imagining things, a bigot, a gold digger, someone with a “shameful”amount of sexual history, who is sexually excited at all times. All to discredit his validity as a victim. Never mind the fact sex workers (which btw, blitz isn’t) receive little sympathy and aren’t believed in their stories because “well sex workers are always down for anything right?” Or really…any rape victim guilty of the crime of not being a virgin beforehand are treated this way. When I See Him is repulsive because of this. One sensitive man questions if he’s a rapist, and the other is just horny, to make the answer to the audience this: no. He can’t be a rape victim. Look: He wants it.

And Viv uses the generosity argument. What about the outings they had, the supportive gifts “you can’t just ignore all that” Anyone with fundamentals understanding of abuse knows that them bringing up ‘the good times’ does not make the abuse invalid. You aren’t ignoring his kind moments by standing up for yourself regarding the bad. Not to mention, guilt at being unable to repay a rich “generous” person, is a core part financial coercion.

This relationship has layers upon layers of abuse tactics, slut shaming, rape apologia and victim blaming rhetoric. Viv has done a level of damage to SA victims, the sympathy for them and understanding in the public, that should be studied.

Couldn't have said it better. Comical moustache twirling monsters like Valentino are relatively rare in real life, but wealthy, abusive, guilt tripping guys like Stolas -- and stories of the people they prey on -- are everywhere. It's dangerous, disgusting, and wrong, and I genuinely fear the fandom's insistence that "it was sex work" and that sex workers seemingly can't say no is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how much damage Viv has done.

[woniverse-writes]

“Love Letters”

kim sunoo x reader

summary: being in love with your childhood best friend is never easy, especially when they're as widely loved as kim sunoo

word count: 4.7k

warnings: swearing, kissing/small makeout, not proofread, slight angst??

notes: y'all I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before, but this cosplayer I used to follow back in 2020 makes music, and she came out with a new song today, thus what inspired this impromptu valentine's day fic. def recommend listening to it cuz it's so cutesy

You had always had a crush on Sunoo, but to be completely honest, who didn't? And that is exactly why you had such a hard time confessing your feelings to him.

the two of you had known each other since middle school, almost always being in the same class and joining the same clubs. even now, you both attend the same university and study the same major. You and Sunoo had grown to be pretty close friends throughout the years, which was ultimately a blessing and a curse. it gave you the opportunity to see the deeper parts of him that all his other admirers didn't have a chance to, and believe me, he has plenty of admirers.

Sunoo was always popular due to his kind heart and bubbly personality. His sweet smile and pretty eyes lured people in before they could even process it. it wasn't unusual for people to leave little gifts and snacks on his desk before class, or give him candy on Valentine's Day, or even leave him anonymous love notes in his locker. The admiration, known or anonymous, was not uncommon for Kim Sunoo.

even now, as you both stand in the lobby of the student union, talking to your friend Rei about her club's fundraiser, you could already sense the oncoming affection soon to be directed towards Sunoo.

"So what exactly is the fundraiser?" he raised an eyebrow slightly

"Oh my god, for someone as affectionate as you, you'd think the concept of a valentine would make sense." Rei dramatically scolded with absolutely no genuine malice whatsoever. You chuckled quietly at her attitude, glancing over to catch Sunoo glaring back with an unserious deadpan stare.

"I better have at least fifty of them by tomorrow" Sunoo glanced briefly at the table decorated with envelopes and stickers

"Well then you better drop some cash" she leaned back in her chair and gestured toward a cash box that was decorated with sparkly red and purple hearts. He scoffed sarcastically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes like a true drama queen

"You really expect me to pay for AND write my own valentines? Some business you're running, Rei" causing both you and her to scoff and roll your eyes at his dramatics

"Alright let's go eat. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would give their money to write you a valentine." you smiled and waved at Rei then began to drag him toward the cafeteria doors

"I know someone who definitely would" the girl teased behind you as she watched you both walk off. Both yours and Sunoo heads whip around to look at her- him with curiosity, you with despair, anxiety, and a bit of murderous intent.

"What?? Who??" Sunoo paused in place as he waited excitedly for the girl's response. She just checked her nails and sighed with a teasing smirk.

"You'll just have to wait and see" Rei shrugged, causing the boy to throw his head back with a groan.

"Girl, literally whatever" he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you toward the dining hall again. You looked over your shoulder at Rei again, who was now giving you a big smile and thumbs up.

After you had finished eating, the two of you walked back to the dorms. You went to Sunoo's suite, which was the floor above yours, like you so often did. after about 45 minutes of just hanging out, you got a text from Rei

kongsuni🥐: come to my dorm for a sec, i need your help with something

You slouched against the couch with a tired groan before standing up and stretching

"Rei needs me for something, so I'll be back in a few minutes" you mumbled, slipping your house shoes on since her suite was on the same floor as Sunoo's. he looked up from his laptop for a second, nodded, then went to typing.

You didn't even bother knocking as you entered the suite, seeing your friend Haewon, who was one of Rei's roommates, sitting on the couch. You waved with a soft smile, getting the same in return, while heading toward Rei's room. Her door was open, so you walked in to see her sitting on the floor surrounded with what looked like materials to make valentines. Rei looked up as she sensed you walk in and gestured for you to sit with her, before immediately going back to work without saying a word

"So... what did you need me for?" you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the scene before you. Rei glanced up again for a brief second

"Aren't you gonna make Sunoo a valentine?" she mumbled softly as she remained focused on her own craft. your eyebrows shot up and eyes practically popped out of your head as you leaned back in surprise.

"Huh?? Why would I ever do that??"

"I mean, I did tell him I knew someone who would write him one" she shrugged, completely unbothered by your slight outburst

"yeah and you really thought that was gonna be me?" Rei sighed, finally pausing her gluing and setting the materials down before looking at you dead in the eyes.

"yes, y/n. I did. because you've been absolutely in love with him since you were 12, and it's only gotten worse since you two have gotten older. Even in the last three years I've known you, I've seen how much deeper in love you've fallen, so I can only imagine how bad it must've been before that. So you're gonna sit down, and write the damn valentine." Rei finished her rant with a huff and once again went back to work, leaving you sitting there with a slightly defeated pout.

"it's not that easy Rei..." she sighed, once again pausing to look up at you with an expectant gaze, causing you to gulp before continuing

"Obviously I've loved him for such a long time, which is why it's absolutely terrifying to risk messing things up. I mean... it's not like I haven't tried to drop hints to see if he's interested! it's just- everything I do is already so normal between us that I don't know how to make it more romantic without actually grabbing him by the face and saying "i'm not doing this platonically, this is romance" ya know?" you enunciated your point by doing as described and grabbing Rei by her face, shaking her gently. she grumbled slightly before pulling away with an annoyed but understanding laugh.

"I guess that does make it hard..." she agreed, leaving the two of you sitting in somber silence for a few seconds. she leans for to grab a few pieces of blank heart-shaped paper and slides them toward you with some glitter gel pens.

"It won't hurt to just write your feelings out though. You don't have to give it to him, just let it out." which is exactly what you did. You wrote about six different love letters addressed to kim sunoo over that hour and a half you spent in Rei's dorm. while she decorated envelopes and cards other people had paid her to put together, you let your feelings flow out onto little pieces of pastel pink card stock. After you finished writing, Rei handed you a stack of envelopes to put your love letters in, which were then sealed up with a wax stamp. you then helped her clean up the mess of scraps and fake rose petals, putting all the sealed cards into the big valentine box that would be displayed again in the student union the next morning. you stood up throwing away the last of the mess as the two of you headed back into the common area.

"Don't forget these" Rei handed you the small stack of envelopes with a knowing smile. You rolled your eyes with a shy grin and thanked her before heading back to sunoo's dorm. once you got back, you immediately tossed the letters into your bag, making sure to seem as natural as possible so your best friend didn't think anything strange was going on.

"what was that about? You were there for a while" Sunoo asked, still positioned at the table with his laptop open.

"Nothing much. She just wanted me to help her finish seal all the valentines"

"oh, were there a lot?"

"Actually, yeah... i'd say it was a decent amount" you shrugged, nodding as you thought back to the many envelopes Rei had thrown back in the box by the time you left.

"Any for me?" Sunoo glanced up over his laptop with a mischievously curious look, raising his eyebrows up and down teasingly. you rolled your eyes and and shook your head with a smile, playing off your anxiety well, before clicking your tongue in faux disappointment

"I didn't personally see any, sorry" you teased with a smile. Sunoo dramatically threw himself forward against the table with a groan causing you to suppress a large grin at his antics.

"Y/n... this might be the first time ever in my entire life that I'm not being doted on" he turned his head to the side to glance over at you with a look of distress. Even though he was obviously faking, Sunoo's pout and sad eyes, along with his cheek squished against the table made him look undeniably squeezable and in the moment it was nearly impossible for you not to jump on him.

"I'm sure you'll survive" you smiled down softly, admiration swimming in your eyes, as you leaned against the arm of the couch. the two of you continued staring at each other. as Sunoo's pout deepened, your smile became harder to contain.

"what's so funny, huh? you find my misery amusing?" he continued to complain, now barely able to contain his own smile as he sat and whined.

"oh, of course I do!" you teased once more, moving to sit in the seat across form him at the table. Sunoo rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would fall out of his head, letting out yet another overly dramatic sigh.

the next morning you were sitting in class when you got a text from Sunoo

divalicious🤩🌞: I GOT A LOVE LETTER😛😛😛 y/n: omg??? from who???? divalicious🤩🌞: idk yet but i just got an email from the poetry club president saying someone sent me a letter and i have to pick it up at the union later y/n: omg waaaaaait

you couldn't help but feel your heart ache a little at the thought of someone once again confessing to Sunoo. even though it was something you'd grown used to over the years, you'd always become accustomed to him shutting them down.

there was only ever one time where Sunoo gave someone a chance after confessing, and it was sophomore year of high school. Someone had secretly placing strawberry milk cartons on his desk before third period study hall every day, leaving cute silly little notes. At first he brushed it off and enjoyed the treat. but eventually he began laughing a little harder at the notes and gushing to you more about this secret admirer. it killed you.

divalicious🤩🌞: honestly it's probably just from one of the guys y/n: you think? would they really waste money on that? divalicious🤩🌞: oh of course they would. have you met ni-ki? y/n: true, true

you tried to push the slight anxiety down and convince yourself that he was right. it probably was just Riki or one of his other friends just messing with him. before you could think too much about it, you received a notification that you also got an email.

📧 to y/n@decelis.edu: you've received a love letter! please stop by the Decelis Poetry Society's table set up in the student union today before 8pm. Any letters not picked up will be send to the mail room for personal pickup.

your eyes widened as you had to stop yourself from physically reacting too much. you honestly had no clue who would write you a love letter, but then you thought back to a few seconds ago when Sunoo assumed it was from his friends. Maybe Rei wrote you one? or Hanni? Maybe even Yujin? surely it had to be one of your friends, so it was nothing to worry about right now. a few minutes later you got another text from Sunoo.

divalicious🤩🌞: got out of econ early, omw to retrieve my love letter🫡

you hearted the message and went back to trying to pay attention to your lecture, but you couldn't shake the anxious feelings. another fifteen minutes passed and your class ended. as you packed up your stuff you got a text from Rei:

kongsuni🥐: hey sugar plum, Sunoo just came by and he got a lot of letters... I just wanted to let you know before he got to you so you had time to prepare your emotions

you felt your heart ache again at the thought of people confessing their admiration for your best friend, suddenly feeling like a hopeless teenager again.

y/n: thanks love. i'm really just hoping they're joke letters from the boys :/ kongsuni🥐: i know, me too :(

you once again hearted the message threw your bag over your shoulder with a sigh as you began walking out of class, heading toward the student union to pick up your own letter. as you were about to walk in, your phone started blowing up again with numerous texts.

divalicious🤩🌞: bouta open my letters- will send updates🙈

kongsuni🥐: Y/n kongsuni🥐: i think something really bad happened kongsuni🥐: i really hope i'm wrong though and just tweaking out right now...

you began typing a frantic response to Rei as you continued your way into the building, but before you could even press send she was running up to you

"Oh my god Y/n- oh my god- you need to help me look through these envelopes right now and help me prove to myself i'm not a terrible friend" Rei grabbed you by the shoulders and whispered frantically as she looked over her shoulder toward the poetry club's fundraising table

"What??? Rei what the fuck is going on??"

"I'm missing like- six letters" there was a brief pause due to your confusion. surely this wasn't something she should be so worked up about

"Okay? it's gonna be okay, we'll find them!" you tried to shed some positivity on the situation but Rei was not having it

"No, y/n. it's not like that! I don't think I have them..." there was another moment of silence between the two of you as you tried to process who might have the missing letters she's referring to.

"...well then who does?" Rei opened and closed her mouth trying to find the right words, before taking a deep breath

"is that the bag you brought to Sunoo's last night..." at that question you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"Oh my god there's no way..."

"Y/n i don't want that to be the case so please just check your bag and make sure you still have Sunoo's letters in there" she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes as she tried to speak as evenly as possible. your heart shook as you looked at her with regret

"That bag's back at my dorm."

Rei dropped her hands to her sides and pursed her lips. the girls forehead creased as she forced herself to take another deep breath. all you could do was stand there and stare blankly, completely dumbfounded by the possibility of Sunoo actively reading the love letters you wrote him.

"Rei..."

"Yeah?"

"I need to go"

"Y/n I'm so sorry-"

"No, it's okay... they're definitely still in my bag... we would've noticed if i grabbed the wrong ones..." you absently mumbled, trying not to crash out. you began walking back from the direction you originally came from, not bothering to check your phone even though it's been blowing up for the last 10 minutes you've been out.

"Wait!"

you turned around, feeling sluggish and on a different planet as Rei handed you an envelope with your name on it.

"I know right now isn't the best time, but hopefully everything works out and you'll be able to enjoy this after..."

you tried to smile and gave Rei a quite 'thanks' before continuing the trudge back. once you got back to your dorm, you opened the door to see one of your suite mates sitting in the common area.

"Hey! how was accounting?" Dayeon asked cheerily, glancing up from her laptop

"was fine" you mumbled absentmindedly, immediately heading to your room to search for the tote bag you brought along with you to Sunoo's the night before. after glancing around you spotted the bag hanging on the corner of your dresser. snatching it, you began rummaging through the bag, quickly finding the stack of letters tied together with a satin ribbon. you frantically started ripping them open one by one, only to realize none of them were addressed to Kim Sunoo.

it finally dawned on you that the letters he received were in fact not from Riki, or Sunghoon... but the love letters Sunoo received were written by you.

at that point you couldn't even stop the meltdown if you tried. tears immediately began to burn your eyes as you felt your chest contract. you tried to shift as quietly as possible across your floor as you crawled to pushed your door shut to make sure Dayeon didn't hear you cry. not like it would matter since the walls were so thin, she'd hear you anyway. you ran your hands through your hair as you curled up against the side of your bed.

"there's no way... there's just no way..."

you had imagined confessing to Sunoo multiple times before- or rather fantasized about him confessing to you, however it was never anything close to this. of course you'd sat with your thoughts on multiple occasions and thought about the what-ifs, especially the thought of "what if he realizes i like him and he doesn't feel the same, and then our friendship is ruined forever?" but again, that anxiety never came close to what you were feeling in this moment.

it felt like you were hunched over for at least an hour, tears streaming down your face, feeling like you were going to throw up, thinking your world was ending. but then came a soft knock on your door. assuming it was dayeon you sat up straight and wiped your tears, before standing up and opening the door, only to see a very starry-eyed Kim Sunoo. you felt your heart rise to your throat and fora second you honestly thought you were gonna vomit, before you watched many different emotions flash across Sunoo's face in a matter of seconds. you felt more tears sting your eyes again as you tried to force yourself to prepare for the conversation that was about to be had, but you just couldn't gather your thoughts

"What's wrong?" he whispered soft with concern, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"huh?" did he really not think this would upset you?

Sunoo's expression shifted once again from concern to disappointment as he let his hand slip from your shoulder

"Did you read my letter?"

"What??" at this point you were full on crying again, so confused and distraught by the situation, not even really processing what's actually happening.

Sunoo smiled somewhat sadly, but couldn't help the endeared chuckle that he tried to suppress. he looked down at the floor momentarily, trying his best not to smile at how cute you were in this unfortunate situation. He glanced back up and reached for your hand.

"Are you okay?" it was a soft, genuine question, asked with the same amount of care and attention he's always asked with.

"Sunoo... i'm so confused right now... didn't you open your letters?" Sunoo's smile only grew, even though he was still trying to hold back from getting too excited.

"Of course I did... didn't you read yours?" he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with him thumb. your brows furrowed deeper in confusion, truly lost to what was going on in the world around you

"No, not yet..." you sniffled, wiping more tears from your face. Sunoo chuckled quietly, completely and utterly endeared by you.

"Why not?" he questioned softly.

"I... I don't know" you looked down, avoiding eye contact, not knowing how to explain the situation you were in yet.

"Well I think you should open it... it might make you feel better" Sunoo squeezed your hand and gave you the sweetest, softest smile as you finally met his gaze. you raised your eyebrows slightly, but turned to retrieve the letter from where it was haphazardly tossed on your desk.

you glanced back at Sunoo one last time before he excitedly gestured to the unopened envelope. you sat down at your desk and opened the letter, reading in your head

Dear Y/n, I'm sorry it took me so long to finally get the courage to say something to you. I know we've been friends for years now, and i obviously cherish that more than anything. I don't think there's anyone in this world who has made me feel as special as you do, which is why it's so hard to keep being you friend. I want to love you deeper than how I've been able to so far. I want to show my affection and adoration for you so wholly and openly that it's clear to everyone who my heart belongs to. I know this is so beyond cheesy and honestly kind of stupid maybe, but the love i have for you is just so strong and pure that I couldn't think of a better way to express it. I've tried to come up with the best possible plans of how to confess in my head, yet none of them feel like they'd ever be good enough for you- which is crazy because I know a singular letter isn't anything drastic, but i personally don't think there's any better show of romance than a classic love letter. so again, i'm sorry for making you wait so long my sweet angel, but i hope this letter makes you finally see how hopelessly in love i am with you. p.s. the only reason I even indulged that secret admirer back in high school was because I thought it was you and by the time i found out it wasn't, I had a crisis and realized how in love with you i was, that i figured I might as well try to get over you since at the time it seemed like you had no interest in me. but now that many years have passed, i realize how stupidly blind i was not to see that you did in fact like me like that. but it's okay cuz you've also lowkey been stupidly blind not to see how much i've loved you too lol <3

by the time you finish readin his letter there were teardrops on the page and the sides were slightly crinkled and damp from how hard you were clutching it with your sweaty palms. you glanced over to where Sunoo was sitting on your bed with a watery pout

"Sunoo..."

"I wanted it to be you so bad... I've only ever wanted it to be you"

you jumped up from your desk chair and swiftly moved across the room, throwing your arms around Sunoo and holding onto him for dear life. He giggled into your neck as he wrapped his arms just as tightly around your waist. the two of you stayed like that for a few more seconds before you leaned back slightly. Sunoo did the same, leaving the two of you face to face, only about and inch or two in between you.

"So..." Sunoo whispered with a soft smile. you giggled, resting your forehead against his

"you're kinda obsessed with me ya know" he teased

"oh shut UP- you're saying I'M obsessed after the confession you just wrote?" you shot back with a laugh as he squeezed you tighter. you two giggled together for a few more seconds before he leaned back again, this time with an ever-so-sightly concerned expression

"Were you crying cuz you thought i didn't like you back or something?" Sunoo questioned, rubbing gentle circles on your back. you let out a mix between a groan and a chuckle as you let your forehead fall against his shoulder in embarrassment

"honestly, yeah..."

"What??"

"yeah... Rei had me write those letters to just get my feelings out, but you were honestly never supposed to get them..."

"Are you serious?" Sunoo threw his head back as he laughed in complete disbelief

"Yup... the only reason you even have them is because Rei accidentally mixed up the stacks and put yours in the box" you rubbed a hand down your face as you sigh before letting out your own laugh of disbelief

"speaking of- lemme text her back real quick cuz she's definitely still freaking out over this" you reached for your phone and winced once you saw thirteen missed texts and four missed calls from Rei. Sunoo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder as you read through the texts. you sent a message letting her know you had the wrong letters, but deleted what you had began typing as a follow-up.

instead you opened the camera app and snapped a quick selfie of you and Sunoo. he had turned his head so that his own cheek would be slightly pressing against yours, his lips brushing the skin, making it very obvious there's been a shift in the dynamic.

kongsuni🥐: Y/n please answer girl, you're making me really nervous

y/n: i don't have Sunoo's letters y/n: (sent 1 attachment) y/n: but it's okay cuz he found them <3 kongsuni🥐: AHHHHHH OH MY GOD Y/N WHAT THE FUCK-

you both chuckled at Rei's reaction. Sunoo squeezed you tighter placing an aggressive kiss against your cheek, causing you to laugh harder. he continued to place little pecks across the span of your skin wherever he could reach from his position. eventually he let out a dramatic sigh and spun you around, finally placing a gentle kiss on you lips.

the two of you stayed there for a few seconds, just enjoying the connection, before he tilted his head ever-so-slightly to fit his lips better against yours to deepen the kiss. you let out a sigh against Sunoo's lips, allowing him better access as you continued to make out. your arms draped lazily around his neck as you played with hair. after a few more moments, you separated for air. you and Sunoo stared at each other in silence for a second before bursting into a fit of giggles.

you both moved to lay in your bed, cuddling under your cozy throw blankets. with stars in your eyes you both shared the details of your affections for each other and how stupidly in love you'd both been all this time.

"I can't believe all it took for us to finally get it together was some love letters..." Sunoo mumbles softly, shifting to press his cheek further into you. you huffed a quiet laugh before responding just as softly

"you say that as if one of us didn't have an absolutely breakdown over said letters" you mumbled in return. he hummed and squeezed you softly

"listen, i had plenty of my own breakdowns over that letter, but all of that was forgotten the second i read through what you wrote me" Sunoo opened his eyes to glance at you with nothing but pure adoration and love. you looked into his eyes and smiled softly, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his nose, before scooching down to rest your head against his chest

"I know we haven't even made things official yet, but I love you Kim Sunoo" you felt his chest rumble with a quiet chuckle, then you felt his soft lips agaisnt the top of you head

"I love you too my sweet angel" he mumbled into your hair as you both begin to drift off in a little mid-day nap, comforted more than ever by each other's presence.

notes: a few more notes, sorry y'all. this was originally supposed to be an ot7 fic and be like- a bunch of different scenarios of you writing them love letters. and then it was supposed to be a jungwon fic... but then i realized how many jungwon fics i'm in the middle of writing and i decided "omg our number one lovely boy needs a cutie little valentine's day fic" hehehe. i hope y'all enjoyed it😛

[kooyabooya]

If you get to be one of the OCs from your fics, who would you be to celebrate valentines day with them?

I have a feeling it would be these two

That ⌛though 😳

It isn't anything new. Not around these parts at least.

"Can I say how much of a blessing it is," you're saying, incessant, palms pressed against Sana's inner thighs, taking a breather of going down on her and all she can do is spit nonsense out from her lips whilst trying not to rip your scalp off. "That people thought of the wonderful idea of leaving the middle of a woman's panties open for the easy access?"

There's no denying it too: the fact that you're kneeling at the foot of the couch with Sana hoisted up like she's the holy bread and wine, encapsulated in the lacy red lingerie set as if she was the red herring in the story of Passover. It hasn't even been twenty minutes since you came back from date night, and there was only one way that this day was going to end.

A minor lie to the tale: there's more than one way how you'll see this out.

"You really have no shame," stutters Sana, hooded eyes rounding out, mouth racked with a shaky breath when she feels two of your fingers slip inside again, lips sucking harshly on her little pink clit. Her expression flushed in the not-so-innocent act of fucking her stupid with your tongue, making her chase the precipice of that high till her face is sticky hot and damp. "How does Dahyun even put up with this?"

"I don't have to," answers Dahyun, doing things her own way with the button clicked off and hand beneath her pants, chewing on her lip at the mere sight of infidelity happening right beside her. "Because I like you both."

You breathe a few more kisses into Sana's pussy - feel the reflex and pressure of her legs crushing your skull. Her fingers yank your hair away. You do the same thing again, she suffocates you the next. Giving her a sense of power was always nice until you take that away.

Suddenly there's a change of scenery, a few kisses exchanged here and there. Dahyun's tongue fighting against yours and Sana's slipping past it. Each of them equally intoxicating like alcohol. They both push you back on the cushions of the couch, fanning out for the takedown.

It's a strategy between the two of them: divide and conquer.

You've barely even started and you never want any of this to end.

"Again," you say, mouth full of Sana's breast as you feel her slick soak your waist, grinding out the motion of the longing fill of your cock up her cunt she's so desperate for. "I think you're right, I might be addicted."

That would be the case, taking into account that Dahyun's on her knees, palms fastened to your thighs, sinking her head down - the mere motion of it enough for you to stay still. "God, just-"

Dahyun guides herself down since it's second nature, her tongue swiping rough across the underside, feel the seal around the head, slip to the velvety plush of her throat the next. She told you that she had a gift in mind - for later, since it's Valentine's Day. Roses and chocolates were a touching preamble, and the current act right now would be the cherry on top of the special occasion.

Sana's pulling your head deeper into her chest, encouraging you to lick up the sweat and slick as a form of a gratifying punishment. The gratifying part- that is, would be your wife throating your cock to the point where you're throbbing and about to burst-

Dahyun pops her head off the tip, tongue picking up the bead of precum leaking out the slit, her small hand cradling your balls and licking her lips. "Our pretty boy here has a lot of cum for us today. What do you say, Sana? Think we can drain every last drop out of him?"

Christ, it's nowhere near to being nailed on a cross: the way that Dahyun's holding you at the root while Sana stares right into your eyes, the tip of her nose grazing your cheek when she leaves a hot wet kiss across your neck.

Sinful as it is, the heavy sigh that's ripped out of Sana's mouth when she sinks onto your cock. Right in the opening of her panties. You're bottoming out the entire length of you inside her. Dahyun as the supporting cast: feeling her breath heavy at your balls, well-practiced tongue toying the ridges and up to the base, right before she treats herself to the delicious delicacy of Sana's ass.

You gasp and Sana gasps. Harmionious for the heavens to hear. A sight for the devil to enjoy.

"Get her cockdrunk for me will ya, honey?" Dahyun proposes, resting her head alongside Sana's and with her pupils blown out. "We're gonna have a long night together."

(a/n: belated valentine's day gift from me. hope you guys like it <3 )

[luzyuvu]

Amphoreus worse romcom.

Ch 11.

Anaxa fic part 2!

Take this as a Valentine's day gift!

As part of Aglaea's plan to slowly but surely get you two together was to get the help of the other Chrysos heirs, not only with the intentions of finally appease (or try to) Anaxagoras's jealousy, but also because with their combined efforts it would be way more easy to start trying to close the distance between you two without forcing you to be alone with him. It was perfect, or at least, at the time of just think about the plan, it was.

------

Phainon swears he is doing his best, because he is! He is doing his best so you and Anaxa can have a good time together.

The original plan was for him to be the third wheel, only using his presence so you could feel more comfortable with Anaxa, but Phainon forgot how even if his fellow Chrysos heir is a sage and has incredible wisdom in his hands, he is definitely not good when it comes to dates or have interactions not related to his job. And it's so painfully obvious that every time you try to make things more natural it ends up with you looking down, only to rise your gaze to look out at Phainon with pitiful puppy eyes asking for help.

And Phainon is trying, really hard, but it seems that you end up accidentally talking more with him rather with Anaxa, and the sage is definitely not having it. He knows it's not his fault, and Anaxa does too, but since he got feelings for you his jealousy seems to have grown and rose out of the sky and his logic and reason is down in the core of the earth when it comes to you.

And that's how we got here, with poor innocent Phainon between the two of you with in his right a girl lost and uncomfortable and on his left a man with a gaze so lethal he could kill a Titan by just looking at them.

He thought Anaxa's gazes were deadly before but it seems that somehow they got even worse, and he swears that if it wasn't because of you Anaxa's gun would be already on his head threatening to shoot.

Phainon it's internally crying, he just wants to help.

So in a desperate attempt to got you two to exchange more than a few words he decides to let you two alone, making up any excuse to leave for at least a few minutes.

He is glad that the death glare has lightly softened but in exchange he nows has to face the pure panic and desperate look in your eyes, begging him to not let you two alone.

"I'm sorry, my friend, this is for the best... " He thinks to himself before walking away.

-----

"Finally, some time alone. " Anaxa thinks to himself as he looks at Phainon's back. Then, his gaze goes back to you and how your eyes go back and forth between your hands and him.

He doesn't blame you for being nervous, until then he did nothing but put walls between you two and was also an absolute asshole to you, he is actually surprised you aren't openly rude to him as well. It's one thing that he likes about you, thought, he hopes you are not such a pushover to other people who are rude to you.

"I'll make sure she is treated well, if not, well... " His expression hardens lightly at the thought of people mistreating you, and it's already thinking of ways of how to get rid of those people who dared to even raise their voice at you.

After a short moment of silence he decides to start a conversation, it feels a little robotic and it's not the most friendly and extroverted one, but you are now looking at him and lucky he will get you to give him more than two whole sentences at once. Maybe, you would get comfortable enough to get you to make those jokes of yours again. He might not be the type of people who laughs loudly or makes excessive amounts of jokes, he is not a jester, but he would like you to be that comfortable with him so you can smile in his presence more often.

------

Phainon let's out a sight of relief when he sees the two of you finally have a proper conversation and finds himself smiling at the sight. It is not the most intimate or friendliest of conversations, but it's such an amazing improvement compared to previous attempts and it's definitely a good step to the right direction.

He can't wait to tell to the others what he is just witnessing, even though he knows that soon or later he has to go back and face Anaxa's cold gaze for interrupting his precious time with his beloved puppy.

------

Castorice is more than willing to help Anaxa on his attempts if winning her sister's heart. She isn't experienced in love at all, her power's don't slow her to be that close to someone and she has a hard time talking to people two. The only approach she had to love is thanks to the romance novels she read and thanks to her beloved friend, but she will still do her best to help.

So, to help Anaxa, she tells him every little thing she knows about you, what food you liked your favorite color, favorite book... There's not a single detail about you that Castorice doesn't hold dear to her heart, and Anaxa is taking notes. He is listening every single word out of her mouth, making sure he knows everything he would need to get closer to you.

He is already making strategies and making plans of how he could make his next move, studying Castorice's information in the same way he does his research, with a expression of pure focus and concentration. Castorice smiles at the sight, she is glad someone finally wants to make a move on you and making so much effort.

Of course she is aware of your and Anaxa's situation. As your closest confident, she was the first person to know the details and how it made you feel, but she believes people can change, she is seeing with her own two eyes how hard Anaxa is trying his best and even Aglaea is helping, so it surely can end well despite the rough start.

It might not be a perfect fairytale of romance or a perfect story like some books she read, but it's real and genuine, and that's what makes it special.

She hopes you can both be happy and have your happy ever after.

-------

Anaxa notices how you slowly start to deliver messages to him again. He knows it's Aglaea's, after all, you can't refuse her. It only takes a smile and her gentle tone to persuade you to do her a favor. And he also knows that, in your eyes, it would be worth it when you go back to receive her gratitude and softness. It makes him narrow his eyes in jealousy how you act like a child, eager to make their parents proud when it comes to her. Though, he must admit, the mental image of your happy smile at receiving such reward makes his lips want to curl.

It's thanks to this small opportunities that she gives him that he can put into use all of Castorice's information, and also a way to test his hypothesis and theories of how to act around you and his plans to win your heart. He has a whole note for all the things he had planed and he has even more notes of how you react with each interaction you have, pages after pages of details of how you react, every little gesture, improvement or dislike he notices.

If someone saw it, they would think he is actually making an experiment instead of courting his crush, but it's just the way he is, not even when it comes to love he stops being a scholar.

Is with each little interaction that he slowly starts to master his skills when it comes to your interactions, and with each passing day he is starting to learn how to distract you and make you slowly lose yourself into your conversations, successfully distracting you from the reason you came in the first place.

And he hopes soon enough you'll start visiting him on your own.

Love is new to him and even thought the way he approaches it it's too similar to of how a researcher investigates a new species, it doesn't make it less genuine, he can't give you an out of a fantasy love story but he can give you his heart and the most genuine of efforts. At his own unique and particular way of doing so.

--------

As usual, you find yourself walking towards Aglaea's place to meet her for a tea party, you make sure to do so every now and then, mostly for to check on each other and make sure the other is okay. And as usual, it started well, nothing out of the ordinary, until...

"Lover's day is nearing. " she comments with a calm smile. Of course you know it, couples all over the city are already planning what to do, meanwhile, single people cry out of loneliness.

You always bake some sweets for your friends, but Aglaea already knows it, so you just look at her lightly confused as you agree.

"Your sweets are lovely, I look forward for them every year.... " she starts with her gentle tone, and you can't help but smile too.

"Have you thought about giving Anaxagoras some? " she says calmly as she takes a slip of her tea, you almost choke with yours.

After a few moments of recovery you look at her confused, and before you can even form your questions, she continues.

"I know he might not look like the kind of person that would enjoy or care about this kind of celebration, nevertheless, if it's you who gifts him such a sign of appreciation, he won't refuse. " Sensing your doubt, she places a hand above yours.

"I'm sure you've noticed how much he had improved over months. " She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Please, dear friend, give him a chance, you can't know how it will turn out if you don't try. " Her tone and smile are gentle as she softly let's go of your hand.

Aglaea tries to convince you a little more before changing of topic, going back to your usual themes of conversation.

Times goes by and you find yourself walking out of the residence as you say goodbye to Aglaea, but before you can close the door she calls you once more.

"Please, consider what we talked earlier. " She gently pats your head. "Don't worry, my child. Trust me, you know I would never suggest something that could cause you any harm. " And with that, you walk to your home, thinking about your earlier conversation.

Doubt lingers on the back in your mind, but with a sight you decide to take her suggestion.

The worse it could happen is if the chocolates turn out to not be of his liking.

--------

Later on the same day, moments after you leave, Anaxa knocks Aglaea's door.

The conversation is fairly similar to what she had with you, it started casual, with regular and not so important topics before bringing the real focus of the day.

"Lover's day is around the corner, have you already thought about what are you going to gift to your beloved, Anaxagoras? " She notices how his body tenses at the mention of such date.

Of course he knows it's near, he is even aware of the seconds and minutes that are left for said date to arrive. In fact, he had been preparing his gift for a whole month, meticulously looking out for the perfect recepie, choosing your favorite flavor, your favorite type of chocolate, how would you like the shape to look like, your favourite type of packaging. He also will buy the same day a bouquet of flowers, also carefully and deliberately chosen to express his intentions with you and a plush of your favorite animal. Castorice herself helped him to make sure everything is perfect for the important day, but he won't tell Aglaea all of that, so he just nods.

She decides to not ask more questions and keep the conversation light, satisfied to know that he did something. She already knows he didn't just pick anything and go with it, he is too perfectionist for that and wants your love so badly it's impossible for him to not do something worth of you.

She can't wait for the day to finally arrive.

---------

The first one to receive our gift is obviously Castorice, you woke up early to greet her and give her her sweets, followed by your dear Aglaea, Phainon and Mydei, followed by some other important people. That lives you with only one box of chocolates to give... Anaxagoras's.

All the Chrysos heirs asked about it, after thanking you properly for your gesture, of course. You have all the same exact response, telling them how you haven't seen him yet and that you'd look out for him. Truth to be told, you have been intentionally avoiding him.

It's not like you are scared if him, not the way you did before anyways. It's not like it's the first time you find yourself in this situation, it was exactly like this the first time you gifted something to anyone for the first time, and to this day you still cringe when remembering it. You just hope it won't be as painfully awkward as when you first gave one gift to Mydei, you wouldn't handle it.

It's not like you didn't put effort or anything, actually, you tried so hard to make it perfect that you forgot to sleep and eat.

Everything is handmade, from the chocolates to the box, everything made carefully with Anaxa's likings on mind, but still, your nerves are killing you.

You really hope he likes it, you think as you finally start looking out for him.

-----

Anaxa has been looking out for you everywhere.

He asked everyone he knew and they were equally confused as him. According to them, you were looking out for him, but he was also doing the same so there could be two options, or you two are having terrible bad luck (he doesn't believe in luck) or you are avoiding him. The last option makes his heart hurt, but he still is determined to find you, soon or later.

------

You take deep breaths to steady your nerves, but it doesn't help. Every second feels like torture and you can't do anything about it. You can't hide forever, he will find you, and if not him, Aglaea will and you don't want to go throughout that embarrassment. So you use the little bit if strength you have and look out for him.

It doesn't take too much for you to find him, and even less for him to notice you. It almost scares you how quickly he was aware that you were approaching him, but you decide to ignore it and before he can open his mouth, you hand him his gift.

You somehow find the courage to look at his eye and his surprise surprises you, but it quickly transforms into anxiety as he inspects the box. It is of his favourite colors, elegant and sophisticated. He can notice the handmade nature of the box as he sees the small imperfections in it. He also sees the rests of your effort on your fingers as you play with them, the paint clearly visible around your hand.

The chocolates are also good, they have leaf shapes and are bitter, as he likes. He can't stop the way his lips curl ever so lightly and how his gaze seems to soften.

"Thank you. " his voice lacks his usual coldness and arrogance, and you never heard it before, it takes you a little to process before he hand you your gifts.

A plush, some chocolates and flowers, it's obvious it was picked for you, because it all has your favourite things all over it, and you can't help but be stunned. You don't know what's more impressive, the fact that he gave you something at all, or how much he did to make it so you'd love it.

You give him the biggest smile you could and your tone is nothing but grateful and happy as you thank him. He still looks at you with the same almost unnoticeable softness as you admire your gifts and he wishes you could always be like this around him.

You talk a little before heading to your respective houses before his voice calls you out.

"You don't have to call me Anaxagoras, just Anaxa is fine. "He calmly comments, but you are completely flabbergasted. He hates being called Anaxa, he made sure to make it clear and you did your best to avoid calling him that, so it was a shook to hear him saying that, especially since he didn't say a reason why you could.

Still, after recovering from the recent surprise, you nod and oblige, and you can almost see a smile before you two part ways.

The day didn't have a confession, some wild drama or anything extravagant, but you two were content, and that's all that matters. This was your story, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

-----------

Aglaea smiles to herself as she looks at the scene, glad that everything worked out at the end and that the two lover birds are happy and satisfied. So she walks away like the other two, ready to keep sketching more ideas for your wedding dress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author note: poor baby Phainon, he has to deal with Anaxa's jealousy :( anyways, this is not the final part, idk how much more there will be BDNDNDN

Also, we all need an aglaea in our lives

I was thinking about naming this fics 'Amphoreus worse romcom' but what would you think? Anyways, see ya

[plushiesssforcrying]

Bluebells.

୨୧ character ┊ telemachus.

୨୧ pronouns ┊ she / her.

୨୧ contents ┊ reader is so mysterious. majority of this is from telemachus' pov. takes place a bit after song 28. slowburn esque... happy valentine's ig.

A cloak wrapped around his figure, Telemachus made his way through the bustling crowd of the market. He scanned the different stalls with furrowed brows, simply trying to find a distraction. A distraction from all the pressure at the palace.

The pressure to be like his father who he's yet to know and meet, who he's still conflicted whether he should resent him for leaving his mother or praise him for being brave enough for heading into war head on as the king of Ithaca.

The pressure to protect his mother from the suitors who had overrun the palace. He had gone above and beyond to make sure that the suitors never bothered her, especially since she started weaving the shroud. While she never demanded him to protect her, he always felt like it was his responsibility.

Although today was different, he had an eventful day of getting beaten up by Antinous and meeting the pallas Athena— who decided that she'll train him and aid him in finding his father.

He only sighed, finding most of the stalls to be of the norm. That is until his eyes landed on a lone shop in the middle of the marketplace. Behind the stall stood a hooded figure busying themselves by rearranging the plants with gloved hands, the other stalls even distanced themselves from them.

He stared in interest and curiousity. It did look a bit different than the other shops, with signs of caution placed around it. What kind of booth would need those? Not long after, he approached with caution just as the signs warned.

The figure took notice of him almost immediately, “Hello and welcome.” she called out in a calm tone. Most of her features was concealed by the hood, her smile being the only visible part of her face. She waited patiently as he takes in the vibrant, colorful floras on display. On the side, he noticed a few strange liquids in glass bottles.

As Telemachus reached for one of the flowers, the shopkeeper was quick to gently grip his wrist. She held up a finger, slowly letting go of him. “Careful now. I have signs for a reason, young man.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He sheepishly retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Curiously, he asks. “But... these flowers. Are they really that dangerous? And why are you selling them?”

The shopkeeper's smile never faltered, instead looking more entertained at the young man's questions. They brought a hand under their chin, thinking of how to answer him.

“Well, they're not to be dealt with recklessly that's for sure. As for why I'm selling them... these are flowers I've collected from my travels. They aren't as easily found here.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, finding her reasoning strange but who is he to question what strangers do in their free time. His gaze fell on a vibrant blue flower, hung like a bell. He curiously pointed at it, never taking his gaze off as he asked.

“Does this one do anything?” The shopkeeper followed his hand before gently picking up the flower with her gloved hands. He swore he saw some scales that spotted her arms when she reached out, but they were quickly covered up as she presented one of the many she had on display.

“Indeed. The bluebell is highly toxic to most living beings, I don't recommend them as a gift. Perhaps just a decoration to keep pests away.”

“Although, funnily enough,” She continued, her fingers softly brushing against the petals of the flower. “Bluebells represents gratitude and everlasting love.”

“It is said that if you turn a bluebell flower inside-out without tearing it, you will win the one you love.” She remarked dreamily as she intertwined her fingers with the stem between her hands, though it seemed she had a joking tone underneath it, it's hard to tell for sure under the cloak.

She turned to the young man once more, the flower in hand being held in front of his face. Close enough for him to smell it, yet far enough for him to not touch it. Telemachus was caught off guard, the sickeningly sweet scent of the bluebell overwhelming his mind.

She spoke, her tone suddenly shifting into a more eerie, yet still cheerful tone.

“Such a strange mix, isn't it? To be the symbol of immortality, only for people to be unable to gift you as a present without risking the life of the one they love.”

Before he could respond, she pulled away and gingerly placed the flora down in its place again. He watched her movement carefully, intrigued and cautious of her fluctuating mood and words. The prince's hand couldn't help but instinctively graze the handle of his sword under his cloak, a motion that didn't go unnoticed by the woman but wasn't acknowledged either.

There was a strange air surrounding this cloaked woman and Telemachus was more than aware of it. Their interaction the past ten minutes had been nothing short of odd antics after another. With light suspicion, he tried to keep a light tone in his voice.

“Well, that is a... grim take on it..?” He remarked with a hesitant smile after what felt like, hours of silence. He sounded a lot more uncertain than he'd like but she didn't seem to mind it.

No, not at all. She was thoroughly entertained, evident in the cheeriness in her laughter after his comment. Whether she was laughing at his underlying fear or simply at his awkwardness was something he didn't, but desperately wants to know.

The woman simmered down, waving her hand dismissively. Her other hand busied itself with rearranging some pouches behind the booth that Telemachus couldn't see. “Ah, don't let me bore you. Please, feel free to ask anymore questions and if you prefer, I have some... potions too.”

“They're mildly safe.” She leaned in closer, a hand cupping one side of her mouth. She couldn't help the hint of teasing in her words and if Telemachus wasn't wary of her before, he definitely was now.

He glanced down at the vibrant assortment, the vendor waiting patiently and humming to herself as she await for him to make a choice. His grip on his sword only tightened under his cloak.

It seemed that she's skilled in some kind of witchcraft since she mentioned potions, so why not sell potions instead and make a profit instead of bothering with dangerous flowers that rarely anyone would bat an eye at? Although, admittedly, they are quite eye-catching.

Instead of picking something to bring home, he pointed at the plants. His brows furrowed and expression doubtful. “I don't mean any offense but... is there anyone that's even buying these..?”

She let out a hum at his question, as if mocking a thought but she already knew her answer. “Once or twice, if I'm lucky that day.” Despite the pitiful words, she didn't seem upset, only continuing to fiddle with other plants behind the counter.

“Most come here for these.” She swirled a strange concoction that also had a few petals inside a round bottle in her hand. She doesn't explain further, putting the glass down as she pruned some plants hanging on the stall.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. She took notice of his action however and tilted her head curiously.

He bit his lip, “Nothing. Um, thank you for... indulging in my questions at this time.” He wanted to further interrogate her but he didn't want to look too suspicious. Other than her strange way of talking, she seemed pretty harmless anyway. What she was selling wouldn't be deemed as harmful either, considering she's put up warnings and has made it a point to make sure her surroundings were well observed so that no child could touch it.

“Why, of course. If you have any more, you know where to find me.” He swore she was winking under her hood with the way she moved.

He can't help but bit the inside of his cheek as he walked away, glancing behind him only to be met with the woman's curious smile. He quickly turned away and sped up his pace, flustered that he was caught.

Meanwhile, the cloaked woman stared at the prince who was quick to disappear into the bustling crowd. A curious one, she thought to herself. Perhaps troublesome, but it could be fun, wouldn't it?

She chuckled to herself at the thought, amused at how wary he was with her. She takes a seat on one of the baskets holding several other of her amenities. Guess only time will tell.

my favourite genre of x readers is making reader the mysterious one like wtf is up w this bitch?? ohh that's wtf is up w this bitch

[officialjada]

Sukuna x FEM reader

(Toxic relationship.. Of course it's Sukuna)

Love, it was an emotion you held with delicately and close. You never once let anyone take it away from you, you just was keeping it safe as much as you could.

That was until you met him. Sukuna, a man who held violence and rage close to his heart rather than love. Yet he found you interesting so he said. Highschool was supposed to be your escape from him and his other 'friends'.

They would torment you, however Sukuna was worse. He would beat you, shame, touch you, yell at you, what ever you name it. You never felt safe, so when you traveled with your parents, you never came back.

Highschool was a different situation, about your 2nd year he came to fool with you again. His annoying smirk that held nothing but rage and glee. His red eyes pearing into your soul as if he had found his lost toy.

"Thought I would never find you again N/N."

And his torment started once again. And he had managed to make everyone think that you both were dating.

You couldn't take it anymore, everytime you would see him you would move the other way as tears slowly formed in your eyes. It seemed like love was slowly dropping from your hands, replacing itself with fear and sorrow.

Yet you couldn't move as your parents jobs would never allow it, so you suffered silently again.

☆

"Y/n, your grades are slipping again. You're losing sleep and you bearly talk to me again." A soft voice spoke, her hands cuffing your face as she looks into your eyes. Her (e/c) colored ones shines softly as her limp holds a frown. "My baby." She whispered, tears softly formed in her eyes as she continued to look at you.

"Please tell me if something's bothering you. Am here for a reason."

"Mama." You mumbled, voice softly cracks as you blinked. You leaned in and gave her a hug, it really has been awhile since you had given her a hug. You missed that warmth, that love she gave to you. "I missed you, your love your warmth. I really missed you mom." And she hugged back.

☆

"You told your mom about me huh?" Sukuna asked, his grin growing as you slowly backed up. Your eyes were wide as you took multiple deep breaths yet it seemed you couldn't calm down. "You're supposed to be suspended!" You yelped, pushing your self back until the environment turned black. And that's when you realized that you were set up in a trap.

You rubbed your button on your cardigan softly, eyes never once leaving the male in front of you.

"Can't I just give my girlfriend a Valentine gift?"

He rushed forward, locking you in place. His hand just slightly above your head, pulling on your hair as he looks excited. "I got suspended because of you. I didn't really like how my girlfriend was all alone. Any guy could've taken her."

Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head left to right. "No please, j..just let me go." You answered, fear tugging at you as you try to piece together what was he going to do.

He leaned in, his third arm holding your waist as his 4th took hold of your face. Pulling it to him as he squash the face fat to poke out your lips. And he drove right in.

"Happy Valentines Day."

A very late Valentine's day gift, so I thought I would've just do Sukuna's part with it. So here you go!

[archerinthevoid]

Chapter 1 – Unlikely Bond:

Pairing: Adam Frankenstein x Reader

Adam Frankenstein/Frankenstein’s Monster x Gender Natural Human Reader –

Adam: He/Him pronouns

Summary: Frankenstein’s monster finds a human who looks past his appearances.

Warnings: Me dancing around if this is set in Victorian England or not, Adam hates himself, (If there’s any you think should be added let me know.)

* I planned to post this Valentine’s Day, but ended up not finishing it in time, so late Valentine’s Day gift!

☽✩☾ Part 1☽✩☾

Words: 1,136

The Creature, or Adam as he’d chosen to name himself, was lonely. He didn’t fit in the world his creator, Viktor, had forced him into. Sure, he was technically beautiful, but anyone who laid eyes on him knew he was wrong.

Maybe threatening Elizabeth, an innocent woman who didn’t even know he existed, or that her future husband had created such an abomination, for his own gain wasn’t the right thing to do. But Viktor was the only one who knew how to make someone like him, who could maybe even love him.

Adam found himself in a dark alley, way past midnight, the only time he could truly roam free. Most where sound asleep by then, and the streets where to dark for anyone that was out there to get a good enough look at Adam to start screaming and yelling.

Mow-row.

A ball of black and white fur rubbed against Adam’s legs. A cat. Animals always loved him. They seemed to be the only ones not to care about how he looks. Though why would they when he always found himself petting them just where they seem to like it. He found his fingers scratching behind the cat’s ears. Adam reaches into his back pocket, finding the small bag of treats he kept with him. After finding how animals reacted to him, Adam never found himself without that small bag.

“Smudge!” meow. The cat- Smudge, pulled away from Adam’s had, letting out more loud meows as she sat herself close by, though still acting as if she was not previously basking in the attention he was giving her.

Adam’s eyes flicked around the alley, looking for somewhere to hid, before deciding to unsuccessfully shoo off Smudge, who just stared at the alley entrance patiently as the calls of her name got closer and closer. Until finally a torch light found them “Smudge, there you are!” Her owner came around the corner, slowly approaching the cat. As they got closer, Smudge stood up, tail slowly swaying as she made her way back to Adam, circling his legs, before sitting, and staring up at him expectantly.

With a small sigh, her owner shook her head, “I’m sorry about her.” She sighs, “Leave the poor man alone Smudge.” They hadn’t looked up at him once as they spoke. The cat lets out a dismissive purr as she rubbed her head against Adam.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. As if doing so would finally draw their gaze. As if not doing so would stop their eyes from landing on him. But they did so anyway. Adam braced himself. “She must really like you, usually she’s only really interested in strangers when they have treats.” Braced for anything but that. Perhaps the light of their torch was yet to reach him.

Slowly he reached into his back pocket, and wordlessly pulled out the bag of treats. They let out a small laugh, that if his blood flowed around his body in any typical way, would have make his cheeks a scorching red. “And now it makes sense.” They shake their head as they smile, stepping closer once again, Adam can feel the light against his face. Now it would happen. “She’s not going to want to leave you until that bag is empty.” They smile. Smile.

How- why, why were they not running, screaming. Scooping up their cat and getting as far away from him as possible. But no, this strange person stood there, staring into his almost completely white eyes, waiting for him to respond. “I- um…” Is all he can manage. Slowly he leans down, placing his hand on Smudge’s head, softly scratching her.

“I’m Y/N.” They introduced themself, slowly twisting one of their rings.

“I-” He’d never really called himself Adam out loud before. Who could he say it to anyway? Victor? No, he’d just continue to refer to him as ‘the monster’, ‘the creature’ or ‘the abomination’ even if he knew. “I’m Adam.” His voice was almost wrong, like his vocal cords had been stitched together, which they might have been.

Y/N let out a sweet hum, nodding as if putting the name somewhere in their memory. They kneel down on the ground, dirtying their cloths as they do. “This is Smudge,” They trail their hand across the cat’s back, their fingers matching for a moment the streak of white that ran along her spine, as if they where painting it onto her.

Smudge knocks Adam’s hand, sniffing at the treat bag. He laughs, a deep laugh, as he opens the bag, holding out a rather large handful of treats, letting her quickly devour each treat. “Anyone would think I starve her.” Y/N smile down as she does. Once the treats where gone, and the rest hidden while Smudge was distracted.

Thinking that all the treats where gone, Smudge swayed her way over to her owner, pushing her paws against their shoulder. An indication she was ready to be picked up. As they took her into their arm, snug into her chest, “Well, we better be off.” Smudge let out a silent yawn. Y/N made no effort to move, thinking for a moment. “Do you have somewhere to stay.” He was dirty, he was certain he smelled. Technically he was staying with Victor, even if his creator was not thrilled with the idea, but he hadn’t been back since his demand.

“… No.”

Adam had never seen someone smile so much, or at least not when he was visible. “Well it might be a little bit of a squeeze getting there, but I have a spare room.” Adam stares at them silently. “You don’t have to, it’s really up to you.” They quickly added.

Adam finally blinked, they’d really offered him a place to stay? They would let him in their home? Was something wrong with them? How could they could look at a monster like him and want him in their home? “I-…” He should say no. He was fine on his own. It’s not like he needed anything a home provided. He wasn’t human, he didn’t need warmth, food, sleep. He could stay on the streets forever, and he’d survive. “Yeah. I could use it.” But he didn’t want to say no. He’d never met a kind human before. And now that he had, he wasn’t going to let them leave him on his own again.

Their smile widened, though Adam didn’t know how it was possible. They turned around, exiting the alley, it took him a moment to follow them. The streets where much brighter than the alley, and Y/N finally let their torch light go out. Adam half expected when they turned around for them to finally scream. “You can sit up front with me, or in the back with Smudge.”

[yandere-fics]

♡ You Bring Chocolates For Someone Besides Them ♡

♡ Elves didn't do chocolates or really valentine's for that matter since every day with their mate was a special day but since she'd known she would have a human mate she had read up on what humans did with their lovers and part of that was valentine's day so she'd been waiting very patiently with her chocolates, she'd made them healthy and dark chocolate just for you and while she wasn't a fan of junk food, as an elf it was hard to process that kind of thing, she didn't really care because yours would be special to her. Then later she would ask you out of your first date and confess you were mates. Obviously even though you didn't know you were mates, you were supposed to give chocolates to your crush on valentines day and she was definitely your crush, right? What she didn't realize is you were the generous type and so you brought in chocolates for all the humans in the office as a token of friendship, the supernatural's never accepted any because they didn't want their mates to misunderstand. None for her, at all and of course why would you give them to her, not knowing she was your mate you'd think she'd never accept them. Miriel didn't realize that though as she spent the day crying in her office and sadly left the chocolates as a mystery admirer on your desk secretly. She really wanted to go on a date with you but she figured you must have been mad at her so she'd ask you a different day. Obviously Miriel was the butt of the joke to the other supernatural's that day while you remained confused on who gave you such gross bitter chocolates. ♡

♡ You had assumed Eliza was not going to want chocolates from you, you weren't even sure werewolves could eat chocolate so you just decided to make them for your friends instead. Eliza had been watching you make them the day before though and had assumed they were for her so even though she thought you were a silly puppy because you should know she's not technically supposed to have mass amounts of chocolates and you made quite a bit but she'd been bracing herself for the stomach ache she would have today because there was no way she wasn't going to eat her puppy's gift. She was very upset when she found out in the morning you were planning on giving them to your friends and so she decided she was just going to eat them anyways. You were very upset you had nothing for the gift exchange but you got your revenge seeing Eliza rolling on the floor in pain for the rest of the night and the next day. You were still bothered you'd handmade those and you instead had to go out and buy last minute chocolate for the exchange. The next day Eliza was begging you to forgive you while you gave her the silent treatment. She wound up having to make you some make up chocolates just so she could learn how much effort had been put into them. They were hairy… ♡

♡ Much liked with Eliza, you'd assumed she couldn't eat them, sadly for you Selene had a much stronger stomach, beyond that due to years of alcohol even when something upset her stomach she wasn't super bothered by it so she'd been expecting chocolate for valentines day. She'd had girls in the past give her chocolate for valentines day since she'd slept with them, though she turned down that chocolate since it seemed like she should only get it from her mate. So yeah she knew chocolate was something humans did and was ready for her chocolates. She'd been so smug when you spent the day before in the kitchen thinking they had to be for her until the church dedicated to her mate showed up at her door and you handed them off to them while she brooded behind you. They'd been very kind to you that year so you wanted to repay them properly, Selene didn't find that necessary but it was okay because she'd forgive you for not giving her chocolate especially when she woke up the next day with you in a valentines lingerie set. You were completely forgiven after she fucked you in every room in the house on valentines day, this was so much better than chocolate. She did make it clear next year she also wanted chocolate. ♡

♡ Kassien hadn't realized you foolishly had a crush on someone in the company other than her. She thought she'd scared off any humans who could have asked you out but they had apparently worked in a different department and the little rat had hidden from her notice. She wasn't expecting anything from you this year, you hadn't been asked out by her and she wasn't as delusional as Miriel to assume you just knew you were mates to begin with so when you came in with them she knew they weren't for her. She wasn't going to let them go to anyone else though so it was a good thing she was planning on taking you on a date tonight whether you wanted it or not. She swooped in snatching hem from you and eating a few in front of you. They would have been the highlight of her day but she couldn't really enjoy them knowing you hadn't made them for her. Still she thanked you for making her chocolates, asserting herself as your mate and saying you must have known and been planning to confess. It seemed as though you wanted to protest but she could tell you didn't want to get that little crush of yours in trouble so you kept your mouth shut as she ushered you out of the office telling you all about the reservations she'd made for you that night. She'd also have to kill whoever your crush was later. ♡

♡ Nikki met you the day before Valentine's day and she'd heard about how humans made chocolates for loved ones on it so she had just thought you would make her some. She was a bit upset to learn you had made them but had not made an extra batch for her, she first thought maybe people were lying about humans making chocolates on this day but then she learned you made some for friends and was a bit upset with you. She wasn't super invested in chocolate, she only had a mild sweet tooth but she wanted to have them if you were making them for others. That was okay though, she simply informed you the next year she expected you to make them for her. You took this as a threat and rushed to make her some late chocolates so she wouldn't go and kill all your friends and family who had gotten some. She was pretty pleased you had considered her not realizing you'd been terrified of her. You wouldn't make any for your friends next year just in case, it was safer for them. Meanwhile Nikki hadn't even considered that she should be jealous of them getting them because she was more focused on getting chocolates herself. ♡

♡ Runa wasn't like Miriel who couldn't eat chocolates without a stomach ache because Runa was kind of her own stomach ache. Over the years all of her stomach problems just faded because she had never even been in a forest to get used to what it felt like to be a healthy elf. Unfortunately for her though you had heard other elves didn't like or want to eat chocolate and even though you'd seen Runa eat some junk food you figured the chocolates must still apply and so when you were making some for yourself to enjoy the day with, you hadn't considered that Runa would want to share. You sat down next to her watching her play games munching on your snack while Runa fidgeted in her seat as the number kept decreasing, she was starting to worry you wouldn't remember to share and as you popped the last one in your mouth she lost her game and started to cry. It was then you realized she might want one and you didn't want to deal with her tantrum all night so you kissed her quickly and slipped the last one out of your mouth into hers as a way to quell her. Sadly that was going to be the way she would demand chocolates from you every valentines day after that. ♡

♡ You were dating someone so she knew you were probably going to give chocolates to them, she didn't care, she was planning on making you incapable of finding them before you saw them that day then you'd go on your date with them, she'd make them seem like a complete asshole to you and swoop in to save you and then when she took you home for the night you'd stop in your apartment and give her them as a thank you for saving you from a bad date. That is in fact what happened but what she hadn't expected was or you to pull her into your apartment and ask her to use her strong body to pin you and make you forget your shitty ex. She smugly ate her chocolates in your apartment while you were sleeping soundly, she was sure she loved Valentines day after this. She would have gone and killed your ex but this was too sweet for her to disrupt it by leaving, they could live until after she finished all the sweet chocolates that were supposed to be for them so it would be a bit because she was planning on savoring them, and you. She'd make you some in return next year for giving her such a sweet day this year. ♡

♡ Your body guards had been through a lot this year and were constantly living in fear of dying just because you'd done or said something so you felt they deserved to maybe have a treat, of course you asked Sawyer first and she told you to go ahead, you even asked her if she had wanted chocolates herself and she said she was okay without them so you went ahead and made low effort ones for them. Any more effort and Sawyer might have gotten upset. Sawyer was just glad you liked your bodyguards, it meant you wouldn't do anything that could get them killed like leaving her. She didn't really want them to get to eat the chocolates though so she had told them to fork over all the chocolate to her so she could eat it secretly. She also hadn't asked or you to make her chocolate cause if you knew she'd been eating them you'd spend way more energy on them. Of course later that day she made you chocolate too, gourmet style because her mate deserved the best. ♡

[littlestarbigsky]

happy valentine’s day, you beautiful humans !!!! i love love LOVE our little family over here, thank you for making me feel so loved all the time <3 aaaand my gift to you is the long (very long) awaited chetcherrycola shower fic🩷

this is kinda nsfw sooo… there’s that lol

yall are the very best for being sooo patient with me with this fic, it was THE labor of love to write but i’m soo proud of it and i hope yall enjoy 🫶🏻

“i’m sorry to bother you like this…” cherry sighed, leaning up against the side of the car.

“i don’t mind, doll,” soda poked his head out to smile at her from the hood of cherry’s stingray.

“but you guys had to get all the way out here… and we don’t even know what’s wrong,” she rolled her eyes.

“and if you think i’m going to let you drive this shitbox it before i know it’s safe to, then you’re out of your mind,” soda poked and pulled at the parts around the engine, his hands picking up all kinds of grease and grime.

not for the first time, soda had gotten a call at work from cherry, who was pulled over at a gas station some miles away with car trouble. before, it had been another greaser gang stealing her spark plug for fun, this time it was her steering going out and her car not wanting to stay on the road. he’d called chet to come get him, and they found her in a panic and worried that her car was finished.

“hey, soda?” chet called from the other side of the car. “i think i found what was wrong!”

“what?” cherry whipped around.

“what’s up?” soda looked over the hood.

chet kicked something on the ground, “tire’s flat as a pancake.”

soda’s mouth fell open, “are you serious?”

chet nodded, kicking the tire again, and cherry buried her face in her hands.

“god,” she cried. “so this is what i called you guys all the way out here for? for my tire? that’s all that noise was?”

“hey, hey, hey,” chet hurried over as soda began to close the hood. “i’d only have trusted soda to fix that anyways, baby! it’s okay!”

cherry didn’t seem to calm down at all, in fact, she seemed to only be getting herself up even more upset. soda looked sadly over at her with an ache heavy in his heart, knowing he couldn’t do anything while they were in public, even if no one was paying attention to them.

chet pulled cherry into his arms, brushing her hair back and kissing around the crown of her head, careful not to mess up her meticulously placed headband. he whispered to her, "it's just a silly little flat tire, nothing's wrong, honey."

he held her close as soda popped the trunk open and grabbed her spare, rolling it over to the flat. cherry seemed to mellow out as she watched him and copied chet's deep breaths, which he would have sworn weren't intentional, but they all knew better. soda got to work fixing the tire, and chet took cherry inside the station so she could freshen up in the bathroom and he got them all a snack. when they came back outside, like the chameleon the world had trained her to be, nobody could have guessed that cherry had been crying.

“the tire is alright, at least should get back to your house,” soda walked over to them, maybe standing a little too close, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “i’ll ride back with cherry so i don’t mess up chet’s seats, we can just wipe down the leather in the stingray.”

chet pressed a kiss to cherry’s head and said, “i’ll meet you two there.”

cherry nodded and chet started heading back to his car. soda opened the door for her and she slid into the driver’s side, not missing soda carefully keeping his grease-covered arms from touching her seats as she started driving home.

cherry couldn’t help but chuckle, “you can touch the seats, cola. it’ll come off.”

soda just shrugged, not saying anything.

eventually, she stole a glance over at him and frowned, “you wanna tell me what’s bugging you?”

he didn’t say anything at first, just sighed, sinking into the seat, the cleanliness of the seat now long forgotten. eventually he answered, “i just wish it could always be the three of us, y’know? not just behind closed doors and with our friends.”

cherry felt something click into place and felt a wave of grief wash over her as she tried to imagine what it must have been like to watch her and chet all up on each other all the time, realizing she’d never know what it was like to have soda kiss her at a football game or throw an arm around her in the back of the drive in.

“i…” she tried to say something, but realized that the words would fall flat the moment they left her lips.

they stayed quiet for a while, until they were almost home. soda examined his hands as cherry turned onto her street, “all i did was love you.”

cherry felt her mouth fall open and tears well in her eyes as she pulled into the driveway and she put the car in park. she stole another glance over at him and saw his head fall back in frustration.

“honey, i don’t know what to say…” it was the only thing she could get out before pulling soda into her arms. in a few moments, she felt tears against her neck.

she didn’t care that her dress and arms and legs were getting dirty, all she cared about was soda and keeping him as close as she could. it had been a while since he’d had the chance to decompress and feel what he needed to, it had always been a habit of his. he was a ball of human sunshine most days, but things weighed on him just as much as other people, and sometimes he just needed to break.

eventually, chet pulled up next to them in the driveway and it seemed like soda had cried himself out. cherry hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his head up, giving him a sweet kiss and pressing her forehead to his.

“c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” she whispered as chet opened soda’s car door.

chet slid into the seat behind soda, nuzzling his nose into the back of soda's hair and wrapping his arms around him and cherry.

they slowly made their way inside and soda kicked off his boots outside the front door, following cherry up the stairs to her room. she reached under the sink in her bathroom and pulled out a few sets of comfies for the boys, her own pajamas already folded at the foot of her bed, and turned on the shower. when she came back out into her bedroom, chet was helping soda out of his sweaty tank top and soda was fiddling with his belt buckle.

cherry walked over beside him, smoothing his hair back, "i've got the shower started, do you want one of us to help you out, sweetheart?"

he looked sadly between the two of them, tears in his eyes, that had most likely been there since they arrived at the gas station.

chet looked up, seeming to sense the discomfort, "or both of us, maybe?"

something loosened in soda's chest as he nodded, blinking out a single tear.

cherry smiled up at him, her hand stopping at the nape of his neck to play with the hair there, “okay, you go get started, we’ll be right there.”

he nodded mutely and finished pulling off the rest of his clothes, carefully discarding them on the tile of the bathroom instead of the carpet. he threw one more glance back at them before pushing the curtain aside and stepping into the shower.

“he misses you,” cherry mumbled, pulling her hair up and turning around so chet could unzip her dress. she turned around and got to helping him unbutton his shirt.

"what do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"he's tired of hiding it," she answered, shrugging the dress off her shoulders and reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra while kicking her dress to the side. "he'll never say it, but he's tired of watching us be together without him all the time."

chet bit his lip, stepping out of his khaki's and reaching up to unclasp the chain around his neck, laden with his st. william pendant. cherry stopped and picked up the garments littering the ground and threw them into the laundry basket in the corner, wordlessly gesturing for chet to go in first.

he stepped into the bathroom and grabbed three of cherry's soft pink towels from the cupboard, setting them on the sink. he pushed the curtain back far enough to step into the shower, his lanky limbs feeling their way around the space, and doing what he could to keep himself open and available for whatever soda needed him for.

soda was standing under the spray, letting the water run over his hair, a routine he had developed to make it easier to get all the grease out. they had showered together before, mostly just after rumbles to get themselves cleaned up before cherry would let them in the bed, but there was a neediness to the way soda was holding himself, arms crossed over his chest.

chet stepped forward, chests pressed together and gently held soda's face in his hands. it was almost magical watching the water run down soda's face, staring into the gorgeous eyes that he realized had gone sad and dull for far too long.

"you're so beautiful, baby," he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to soda's lips sweetly.

soda rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "you're such a sap."

chet raised an eyebrow, "but you love me?"

"i do," soda draped his arms over chet's shoulders and pivoted them so they were both standing in the spray of the water, soda's face pressed against his collarbone as water dripped down from chet’s hair.

"you better love me, too," came cherry's soft voice from behind them peeking in around the curtain.

“c’mere, sweetheart,” soda couldn’t help but let a smile break across his face, he offered a hand to cherry, helping her step over the edge of the bathtub. she took a few steps forward and wrapped her arms around soda’s neck, kissing him sweetly.

chet pressed himself up against soda’s back, his hands resting gently on cherry’s waist, sandwiching soda between them. chet bent down and started pressing kisses along the line of soda’s neck, soda’s head falling back onto his shoulder.

cherry turned around and grabbed a washcloth and her sweet, flowery, body wash, the one she knew both of them loved. chet continued to run hands up and down soda’s sides and massaging the muscles in his arms as cherry poured some of it out and worked up a lather. she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his jaw before staring to run the washcloth over his chest and arms.

soda sighed, all of the tension leaving his body as cherry dragged the cloth down his arms and over his shoulders.

“can we wash that hair, sweetheart?” cherry asked gently, her hand stopping on his chest for a moment.

“mmhm,” he mumbled, his eyes closed as he leaned his head against chet’s.

“it’s the blue bottle behind you,” cherry instructed gently, starting to run her hands over soda’s stomach and sides.

chet poured some of it out into his hands and began to massage it into soda’s hair, gently working through the grease and dirt caked on from his shift at the dx that morning.

cherry took a few steps forward and soda opened his eyes, rotating the three of them so that she was under the spray of the shower head. he tucked his finger under her chin and tipped her head back to wet her hair.

“can i see the shampoo?” soda whispered, and cherry grabbed it for him. he poured it out into his hands, chet’s hands still working the grease out of his hair. soda rubbed it into a lather, pulling cherry towards him and starting to thread his soapy hands through her hair.

they switched places once soda was finished and he rinsed himself off as cherry started carding gentle hands through chet’s hair. soda brushed cherry’s shampooed hair over one shoulder and hooked his chin over the other, pressing sweet kisses to her neck and hugging her to his chest. chet leaned down and kissed her sweetly, stepping closer so that he could run a washcloth over her chest and shoulders, not stopping kissing her for a second.

it went on and on, each of them taking turns in between the others, each of cherry’s hands massaging conditioner into both of their hair, chet’s head falling back as soda ran soap over his torso, a mess of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash by the time cherry shut off the water.

“i don’t think you got all the conditioner out,” cherry smiled, perched on her bathroom sink with her hair tied up in a towel and running her hands through soda’s damp hair.

“yeah? and who’s fault is that?” he tilted his head, using the corner of the towel around his neck to wipe away a few drops of water on her forehead.

she smirked, “i think it’s chet’s.”

“hey!” chet cried from the bedroom. he came back into the bathroom, his towel tied low around his hips, “cherry was the one who complained about being cold.”

he wrapped his arms around soda’s waist, kissing his cheek, and grabbing one of cherry’s hands. cherry leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to chet’s forehead, and another to soda’s lips.

“you feeling better, baby?” she asked gently as she pulled back, brushing a few more pieces of hair out of his face.

he nodded wordlessly, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned his head against chet’s.

“good, let’s go lay down then,” she smiled, and hopped off the sink and pushed open the bathroom door, leaving chet and soda to linger for a moment.

she threw her towel over her desk chair and pushed the covers back on the bed, not bothering to put on the pajamas she had set out for herself and the boys on the dresser.

she looked pointedly at them, “c’mon, get over here.”

chet’s eyebrows shot up, “are you serious?”

cherry’s eyes darted between them and the open. bathroom door, “it’s warmer.”

soda chuckled and hung up his towel in the bathroom and settled in next to her, closely followed by chet, who crawled up against soda’s other side and threw the covers over them.

soda rolled over to envelop cherry in his arms, chet pressed against his back, “thank you for getting a flat.”

cherry smiled and kissed him sweetly, “thank chet, i probably would have had you rooting around the hood of that car for another hour.”

chet giggled behind them and pressed another kiss to soda’s shoulder, “we love you, coca-cola.”

soda’s eyes were getting heavy, and he smiled drowsily, “i love you, too.”

“i know you’re tired,” cherry cupped his cheek in her palm. “get some rest, sweetheart, we’ll be here when you wake up.”

[dcnatural]

Valentine's At Wayne Manor

Word Count: 1090

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Jason Todd x Tim Drake x Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Synopsis: It's finally time to reveal your relationship to the public. And there's no better occasion than a Valentine's Day Gala.

A/N: Work written for the @macrocest winter bingo, filling the prompt for "valentine's day dance".

A/N: This work is a sequel to Below Wayne Manor and Above Wayne Manor. Unlike the previous parts, this one is non-smutty. Thank you to all the read, liked and/or commented <3

By the time you left your bedroom and made your way into the ballroom, the Wayne Manor Annual Valentine Gala was already in full swing. Like always, your father had spared no expense, and the vast space, with its polished marble floors and towering windows, had been transformed into a fairy tale forest, with twinkling fairy lights, cascading ivy and delicate heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the vaulted ceiling. A string quartet played something slow and haunting melody that lingered in the air. Distinguished guests filled the room, their faces adorned with smiles and laughter as they mingled, sipping on their drinks and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres. The manor was always impressive, always immaculate, but tonight, it pulsed with an almost theatrical romance, the kind that Gotham rarely allowed. It was the perfect scenario to announce your relationship.

Standing in the grand staircase, you analyzed the room in search of your brothers, your long dress rustling slightly as you shifted on the heels that Bruce had gifted you for the occasion. Dick, Tim, and Jason huddled together by the bar, their backs to you, engaged in what seemed like a serious conversation.

As if sensing your gaze, Dick turned and met your eyes. He flashed you a grin that made your heart skip a beat, and you could practically feel your cheeks turning pink. With a deep breath, you started descending the staircase, making your way towards your brothers and ignoring anyone who tried to strike up a conversation with you. 

As you got closer, you caught snippets of their conversation.

"...I still think it's a bad idea," Tim was saying, his voice low but tense. "Bruce will kill us."

Jason scoffed. "I died once already, don't worry, it's not that bad."

"He'll get over it," Dick replied, ignoring Jason's joke. "He can't exactly disown his own daughter, can he?"

You reached them just as Dick was about to respond, and he glanced up at you, his smile softening. "There she is," he said, stepping away from the bar to greet you with a hug. "You're looking stunning," he murmured in your ear. 

You blushed even harder at the compliment, smoothing a hand over the deep emerald green fabric of your gown. "Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself."

Dick released you and placed his hand on the small of your back. "Come on," he said, gesturing to Tim and Jason, who joined you, Tim interlocking his arm with yours. Jason rolled his eyes at the gesture, but didn't reject it when Tim offered him his free arm. 

"Let's show Gotham what the family that watches over them is really like," Dick whispered, winking at you, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and nervousness.

"Are we actually doing this?" you asked, suddenly rethinking the plan.

Dick leaned down to press a soft kiss to your temple. "Now it's too late to go back, baby."

As the four of you walked through the ballroom, heads turned. Whispers followed your every step. You could see the shock and curiosity on people's faces as they tried to process the sight of you and your brothers together. It was clear that the gossip mill would be working overtime tonight.

Bruce was standing by the fireplace, speaking with Mayor Hill, Selina by his side, when he spotted you. He lifted a brow, eyes flicking over the four of you as the room quieted, Gotham’s elite sensing that something was about to happen. Selina smirked, swirling the champagne in her glass as if she already knew what was coming.

You inhaled sharply, feeling Tim’s grip on your arm tighten slightly in silent support. Jason stood tall, the ever-present mischief in his eyes tempered by something steadier, something protective. Dick, ever the showman, flashed you a quick, reassuring grin before guiding you toward your father.

Bruce's expression remained unreadable as you stopped in front of him, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Dad," you started, voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I wanted to take this moment to share something with you. With everyone", you added, head turning slightly to address the room.

Bruce didn't respond immediately, just studied you with that quiet, assessing gaze of his. You had grown up under that look, the way he always saw everything, understood everything before anyone else did. But this… well, this, he hadn't seen coming.

"We are in love," you continued, your voice stronger now. "Dick. Jason. Tim. Me. It's not conventional, it’s not what Gotham expects, but it's real." You forced yourself to hold your father's gaze, determined not to waver. "And I won't hide it just because it might make people uncomfortable."

The silence that followed was deafening. Somewhere in the crowd, a socialite let out an audible gasp. Eyes widened, whispers swelled, the entire room hanging on Bruce Wayne's reaction.

For what seemed an eternity, his gaze moved between the four of you. Then, finally, his expression softened. Not much, but enough. "Are you happy?" he asked, his voice calm, even.

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Yes," you said, meaning it. "I am." 

"Duh", chimed Jason in agreement, at the same time Dick let out a firm "Yes" and Tim nodded eagerly. 

Bruce nodded once, as if that was all he needed to hear. Then, in a move that sent another ripple of shock through the room, he placed a hand on your shoulder. "Then that’s all that matters." The approval in his voice was unmistakable.

The hush in the ballroom broke all at once. Some murmurs scandalized, others intrigued. Selina let out a low, appreciative laugh, raising her glass in your direction. "Now that’s a Valentine’s Day announcement."

Jason let out a breath that was half a scoff, half amusement. "Well, that went better than expected."

Tim, still gripping your arm, muttered, "Bruce is way too calm. This is suspicious."

Dick just grinned, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Told you he wouldn’t disown us. We know too much," he added with a wink.

You laughed, tension melting away as your father gave you one last approving nod before turning back to his conversation with the mayor, because of course, Bruce Wayne wouldn't let even this derail his business dealings.

The Wayne name would be the talk of Gotham tomorrow. But for tonight, you had nothing to hide. Nothing to regret. You were in love, and for once, the weight of expectations didn't feel so heavy.

[darthannie]

assess and discuss

part three of thesis statement

(part II here)

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Word count: 2,860

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), fluffy, kissing, mentions of submission

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! Here's my gift to you. Sorry updates have been slow. I'm really trying! There's not really any smut in this one. It's all plot and fluff baby! I hope you enjoy.

It’s been a week since your’ve seen him and a week since you’ve spoken to him. You’ve been counting the days on your calendar as they went by. 

You skipped out on class yesterday, deciding you couldn’t face him just yet. But, there was no way of avoiding him today. That was one of the benefits of taking both of his seminars this term. Usually seeing him twice a week made getting up in the morning worth it. Now, it felt like a death sentence. 

He’s texted you since you last saw him. He asked how you were and if you’d thought about what he said to you. Then it was radio silence. In all honesty, you had thought about it and you wanted to take him up on it. Setting boundaries was important, you thought and that could only happen if you sat down and laid it all out. You felt you had to tell him in person. So here you were, on campus on a Friday morning, coffee in hand and ready to mention having that conversation. Having that conversation in the classroom was a bit uncooth, so you thought it better to ease into it. You didn’t want anyone suspecting anything. Not admin, not your classmates, not even Nadia but you knew that wasn’t an option. She was the first person to know what was going on. You told each other everything. 

You walked into an empty classroom and took your usual seat. After a few minutes you were finally all set up and were browsing on your laptop. Nadia arrived a couple minutes into you scrolling on Etsy. 

“Hey! I thought you fell off the face of the earth I haven’t heard from you.”

“Hey, Nadia. Sorry, I’ve just been kinda preoccupied.” In reality you had been isolating. The time you spent with Jim left you with a large weight on your conscience. Not only did you have your heavy course load to keep in mind, you had this force looming over you. Him. You had no idea what to make of it. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She was always genuine when she said things like this. She missed you and hated when you pulled away but she knew it was better to give you space. 

“God, yes, I need to talk about it.”

“Spill.” 

In a hushed voice you began. “We saw each other and we...”

“You and Jim?” Yiou nodded at her words. The excitement on her face was easy to place. She was thrilled for you. 

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Yes fuckin’ way.” 

“Is that why he cancelled class?”

“Yep.” 

“YOU’RE KIDDING.” Nadia’s eyebrows rose and she leaned forward as the door behind her opened up. Jim walked in wearing a white oxford shirt tucked into tailored pants. He looked rather put together, and you couldn’t help but swallow nernously. Your attraction to him was undeniable. 

Nadia turned to see who walked in and faced you again, covering her mouth, and noting that she was a bit too loud. 

“Oops,” she said. 

“Nadia…,” I replied, less of a warning and more of a suggestion to keep it cool.

“Good morning, ladies.” Jim nonchallantly addressed you and Nadia as he settled in. 

“Hi, Jim,” Nadia chirped, “Was everything alright last week?” She asked it innocently enough, but you knew she was trying to rustle your feathers. 

“Oh, yeah, just a family emergency.”

“Oh no, is everything alright?” Nadia elbowed your arm and smirked. You hit her arm and he turned around to face the two of you. 

“Yes, everything’s alright now. Just had to help my sister with her kids.”

“Right, well I’m glad to hear it’s everything is alright.” Nadia smiled at him politely. 

He smiled back and then turned his attention to you. He said, “And, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Your skin felt hot. He looked nervous.

“Listen, I was reading over the piece you sent me and I have some suggestions. I think with a bit of work we, you, could submit for publication.” You had forgotten that you had even sent him your work. He reminded you to before you left his home and now you were glad that he did. 

“Really?”

He nodded. “See me after, we’ll go though it quickly.”

“Well, alright.” You sank into your seat and looked at Nadia. She gave you a knowing look as more stidents started to file in.

What followed was an hour and fourty-five minutes of avoidance. You participated as usual but there was no usual back and fort between the two of you. The bare minimum was what you wanted to give and it was what you achieved. 

Class ended and a couple peers stayed after to discuss their notes with Jim. You and Nadia milled about talking about going out later that night. You got distracted and watched as Jim talked to his students about their work. His passion for teaching was so apparent, it made you feel almost proud watching him. You smiled to yourself and turned your attention to Nadia again, agreeing to a time to meet for pres at a local bar before going dancing.

She left and the student who was talking to Jim left right behind her. Jim walked over to the door and looked through the window. There was no one in the hall. You were stood away from the door and as you began to speak about the essay you sent when you felt his hands grab your face and pull you towards him. He laned a small kiss before you pushed him away slightly. 

“Cameras,” you whisper shouted.

“Old building. There are none in this room.” 

You stared at him, sedated by his kiss. When his words registered it was your turn to pull him in, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him hard. He walked you backward until your back hit the wall. Jim’s hardening cock pressed against you. He pulled away and clearned this throat, realising he needed to calm down.

“You, um, wanted to talk to me about my work?” The eye contact you held was sharp, intimate. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he stepped back and walked towards his things, grabbing a manila folder and handing it to you. My annotations and comments are all in there. All five essays. They’re good. Really damn good.”

“Thank you. I’m excited to look over them.”

“I look forward to reading the next drafts.” 

You stared at each other for a moment before you both developed smiles. You were almost to the point of giggiling. This was fun. It had never occured to you that what you two were doing could be fun. Genuine fun. A small laugh escaped your lips and you looked towards the ground. 

“Jim, we need to talk about this.” You looked back up at him, hopeful that he would be receptive. 

“Come over tonight. We’ll be able to talk all about it.” Jim chuckled and got close to you lifted your chin so your eyes met his. 

“I’m seeing Nadia tonight. We’re going out.”

“See me before you go out then. We’ll have a good time.”

“Doing what?” You tried to bait him by getting close to his face, your lips almost meeting his.

“Just talking.”

“Right. Just talking.” You rolled your eyes and he moved his hand to caress your neck. 

“I’m serious. We’re just talking,” his thumb smoothed over your cheek as he continued, “I’m not going any further until we decide on what exactly this is and how we’re going to go about it. Is that okay?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you replied, “Yes.”

Then, rather nonchalantly, he replied, “Good girl.” He pecked you on the lips and pulled away from you, turning to grab his things. 

“I have office hours now, so I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you later.” He gave you a smile and walked towards the door. He paused right as his hand reached the handle and turned back to you, rushing over and kissing you again. 

“Bye,” he whispered against your lips.

You kissed him again and let out a laugh, “I’ll text you.”

He kissed you once more and replied, “Good.” He turned again and, this time, allowed himself to exit the room. 

Later that night, you knocked on his door wearing a black halter top and short skirt. Around your waist was a thin silver chain belt that laid perfectly over the dark red skirt. You and Nadia had decided to go to a local club for “Latin Night”, which meant Ireland’s finest (you and Nadia included) would be drunkenly attempting to keep up with Bad Bunny’s cadance. After a couple drinks your words weren’t as coordinated as your hips. Nadia left the club with an old flame, but made sure you safely got into a car you called. Now, here you were, sobering up in front of Jim’s door. Hoping he opened it soon because you didn’t feel like waiting on the club’s bathroom line. 

The door opened and he was still wearing the clothes you saw him in earlier. “Are you drunk?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“I’m halfway to sober. Can I use the bathroom?” You held in a giggle, you didn’t know why you wanted to laugh. Perhaps part of it was the fact you imagined kissing him, but the idea of him tasting the liquor on you made you stop. 

He moved out of the way and you practivally ran by him and towards the bathroom.

“Do you have mouthwash?”, you shouted as you jogged to the bathroom and closed the door. 

“Yes, I do. In the cabinet. Why do you need mouthwash?”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

After a couple minutes of making yourself presentable again, you exited the bathroom and made your way towards Jim. 

“So, how was your night out w-“ You cut him off with a hard kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair.

He pulled away after kissing you back, “Is that why you wanted the mouthwash?” You nodded and hummed “mhm” before trying to kiss him again. He pulled back. “You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, you’re not sober.” He walked into the kitchen and poured you a glass of water. “Drink.” He placed it down on the counter in front of you. You looked between him and the glass. He pushed the glass towards you. “I said, drink.”

You smirked and grabbed the glass, chugging half of it. “Happy?” 

He leaned with both his hands bracing on the counter. “We’re not having the conversation we need to have until the morning. I need you one hundred percent sober.”

“Fine.” 

“Finish your water.” 

“Jim, I’m okay, seriously.”

He walked around the bar in the kitchen and grabbed the glass on his way towards you. He held the glass against your lips. 

“Drink.”, he whispered. You placed your hand on top of his and tilted the glass. You drank every last drop. 

“Good girl. Now come, you can’t be comfortable in that dress and those shoes.” He went to the dresser in his bedroom and dug around for some pajama pants and a t-shirt for you to wear. You followed him and leaned against the door frame. 

“Do you like taking care of me?” You tilted your head, challenging him.

A blush started to grow on his cheeks. He placed the clothes on the bed near you and stood back. You put your bag down on the floor, kicked off your shoes, and started the take off your shirt. “You don’t want to do that in the bathroom?” He couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” You finished taking of your shirt and you reached over to grab the t-shirt he picked out for you. It was a Fleetwood Mac tee. You pulled it over your head and removed your skirt before grabbing the black lounge pants he gave you. He watched your every move, studying how steady your movements were and how you lost your balance slightly while putting the pants on. 

“You’re staying over, if that wasn’t clear already.” 

“How chivelrous.” 

“I’m serious. Do you need anything else before getting into bed?”

“I want to wash my face.” You started walking towards the bathroom. “Do you have any face wash?”

“In the shower, love.”

“God, of course you fucking do.”

As much as he wished he could have that conversation with you, he loved seeing this side of you. He found you curt and pointed in the best way possible. Upon your arrival back to the bedroom you found him fixing up the bed, more specifically your side of the bed. He had set a bottle of water and pain killers on the bedside table. For when you wake up, he said. 

You hadn’t expected him to take this much care of you. You think he found pleasure in it, and yet he ignored your question about it when you asked. You got into bed without a word and he followed on the other side. 

“Thanks for setting up my emergency morning kit.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckled, “I don’t want you to suffer in the morning.”

“Well, you know, I don’t get hangovers. I think it’s impossible for me.”

“Oh, that cannot be true.” He turned on his side to face you. 

You stayed on your back, looking up at the ceiling, “No, it’s true, I never do. I guess I never drink enough to get hungover. And I have people forcing me to drink water constantly. Not just you, Nadia too.”

He hummed in understanding. Silence covered you both, only your staggered breath could be heard as you gave into rigid stillness. The reality of what was happening was starting to set in. You were fucking your professor and now he was taking care of you after a night out. “What the fuck am I doing?”, you thought. The moral implications of what was happening seemed more real now that you felt him reach for your hand. He squeezed it to try and get your attention. It was only now you realize that he had been saying your name repeatedly, trying to get your attention. It startled you and you pulled your hand away. 

“What?”, you sounded scared when you asked. 

“Tell me what’s running through your head.” He sat up now, trying to add a bit of urgency to his soft command.

Your mouth opened and no words came out. You shut it.

“I need to hear what’s going through your head.” He took a chance and reached out to caress your cheek. You leaned into his hand.

“I just,” you started, “I feel weird. Like I’m dirty and doing something wrong. I’ve never been with someone older than me and I’ve never been cared for or told what to do. It’s all new to me. Too new. But, the issue is that I love it. I want it more than anything.”

“Come here,” he gestured to his lap, “and don’t worry, no funny business. Just come here.”

You stratled him and met him face to face. He held your face in his hands. “Look at me,” you tried your hardest not to, “Hey, hey, look at me. I need your eyes on me.” You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them and being drawn in by his. 

“I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and if you feel uncomforable with me in the bed tonight just say the word and I’ll sleep on the couch. I… I understand your apprehension. But give us- this a chance.”

You took in his words before nodding slowly, “Okay.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I want this. Really, really bad.” You started to move your hips and his hands left your face, and firmly stopped your hips.

“Not now, this isn’t what this is about.”

You looked down at your arms, now crossed over your body, feeling slightly repremanded. If he didn’t want sex from you all the time, then what did he want?

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered only for you to hear even though not another soul ever would, “I want you to submit to me willingly. Not because you feel that you have to.”

You felt your eyes water and a single tear fell. You pulled back and quickly wiped it away. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. It’s a lot.”

“It feels like more than hooking up with my professor now.”

“Good. It should.”

You pressed a soft kiss against his lips, “Can we cuddle?”

“Of course, love.” 

You got off of his lap and he reached to turn off the only lamp on in his room, the one on his bedside. He laid down and opened his arms for you. You fit perfectly against him. You laid a hand on his chest and got comfortable in the crook of his neck. He held as if you would run away. 

“Thank you, Jim.”

“For?”, he stroked your arm before wrapping his hand around it. 

“For caring.”