Chaos imagine: karaoke night in velaris

The valkyries are insisting on Beyoncé for every. Single. Song. They really love “single ladies”. The second time they do it, cassian joins in

Az melts into shadow whenever gwyn mentions him “he’s a shadow singer, come on guys aren’t you curious at all?”

Mor chooses a real powerhouse, something like Kelly Clarkson “Stronger”. She gets a standing ovation for the performance factor alone

Rhys is pressured into picking something and accidentally selects a high school musical song, much to feyre’s delight. She insists on a duet :)

Lucien keeps drinking away his nerves at being out with elain, until he ends up onstage serenading her with the Jonas brothers. “Burning up”, of course

Better than flowers♡

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

 ♡♡ Happy Valentines Day  ♡♡

You've always hated valentines day until Elijah changes your mind with a magical date.

3.2k words - Warnings: smut, oral, so corny and romantic it hurts …

You always hated Valentine's day because most of the time, you were alone. Last year, you'd just been dumped, so you spent the entire day in bed. It wasn't until you saw everyone's pictures from their cute dates that you really felt bad.

Even though you were dating someone new, you didn't expect anything. Elijah was always sweet and thoughtful, but you didn't want him to feel like he had to go over the top for this holiday. You had only been dating for a few weeks, so you were happy with just a card and a bouquet of flowers.

It was naïve of you to think that would be enough for him. He was the most romantic guy you'd ever been with. He would randomly buy you things or take you to dinner just because. He even planned a weekend away with you, which was the best.

So, when you got home from work on the 13th you found a garment bag on the bed and a note, you couldn't hide your excitement.

Y/n, I know you dislike Valentine's Day, so I wanted to show my appreciation for you the day before.  I'll pick you up at 8. -Elijah

He liked to leave notes like that for you. It wasn't surprising that he did this. He was such a romantic man. Sometimes it made you uncomfortable because it felt like it was out of a fairy tale, almost surreal.

You were curious about what was in the garment bag and carefully opened it, the hanger still on the inside of the sleeve. The beautiful blush-colored dress inside made your jaw drop. You gently ran your hands over the fabric, a slow smile spreading across your lips. It was romantic and flowy, the kind of dress you would see in an old Hollywood movie.

You took your time getting ready, making sure every part of you looked perfect. Elijah was worth going all out for. When you went to get dressed you noticed he had also bought you lingerie. It was incredibly luxurious, the set probably cost more than your rent.

You smirked to yourself as you slipped into the lingerie. You checked yourself out in the full-length mirror. It fit perfectly, and the color matched your dress. You weren't the lingerie type of girl, but sometimes you could appreciate how good they made you feel.

When Elijah knocked on your door, you finished putting in the pearl earrings he bought you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. The memory made you blush, he'd been so sweet when he asked.

You put your feet in your matching shoes before heading for the door. Your breath was taken away when you saw Elijah. His hair was perfectly styled, and his dark eyes were shining. He dressed for the occasion.

"Hi," he breathed out, giving you that cute lopsided grin. "You look- you look beautiful."

You returned his grin, pressing your hand to his cheek, enjoying the feel of the stubble there. "Thank you. So, where are we going?"

He reached up and held your hand in his, bringing it away from his face and placing a kiss against your knuckles. You could never get tired of that.

"It's a surprise," he said as he led you down to his car. 

“Always with the surprises," you teased.

Once you were sitting in the passenger seat, he smiled over at you, and started the car. He reached over to place his hand on your thigh as he drove. You turned on the radio, surprised when the song you always sang along to came on.

Elijah gave you a soft squeeze when he heard you start singing. He probably thought it was funny, you knew you were not the greatest singer, but you couldn't help but sing along to songs you knew by heart. Elijah always thought it was cute.

When you realized he was taking you outside of the city, your curiosity growing. 

"We're almost there," he told you, and squeezed your thigh again.

He parked in a gravel parking lot, there was no buildings near by, just a forest path. You weren't sure if you should be nervous, but you felt calm around him. He was always protective and sweet.

"If we are going on a hike I didn't wear the right shoes," you joked as he helped you out of the car.

"Not that kind of hiking, not tonight anyway," he commented, and you were a little relieved by that.

His hand held yours as you started down the gravel path. It was dark, you used his phone to shine a light. Your heels didn't do the best on the uneven ground. You stumbled a bit and Elijah scooped you up, making you giggle.

"If you are planning on murdering me in the woods, this is the most romantic way someone has ever done it," you joked, you couldn't help thinking of the worst-case scenario, it was just in your nature.

He chuckled and kept walking, his hands supporting your thighs and back as he carried you. "I wouldn't put in this much effort to just murder you in the woods, love." He teased.

You arrived at a clearing just before the sun was beginning to set. There was twinkle lights strung in the trees and a few lanterns that provided light. At the center of it all was a large wooden table set with plates, champagne, and roses. Candles were lit in every corner of the space.

There was a trail of red rose petals that lead from where you stood to the end of the table, disappearing into the dark of the woods. The moment was surreal.

"Whoa," you muttered, looking around in awe.

Elijah carefully placed you on your feet and held your hand. "You like it?" He asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.

"Elijah," you breathed out his name and placed your hand on his cheek, "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I love it."

His hand reached up and cupped yours against his cheek. You could feel his blush. He always got so nervous and shy around you, and it was honestly the cutest thing.

Out of the woods came a few servers that began to put food on the table and fill your glasses with champagne. You smiled up at Elijah as he thanked the servants. He led you to your seat, and you grinned as he pulled out the chair for you.

"Such a gentleman," you cooed at him before sitting down. He sat down beside you, turning his chair to face you.

"I would do this for you every day if you would let me," he whispered, his hand sliding across the table and taking yours.

You didn't know how to respond to that so you took a sip of champagne and smiled. He continued smiling back at you, both of you growing more comfortable in silence. You talked for a while about each other's day and you finished off a bottle of champagne by the time the food was ready.

The meal was incredible. Everything was so good. You didn't even notice the sun had set because the whole area was lit up. Elijah had planned it all out and he was amazing.

The table was cleared and moved out of the way so you had room to dance. A violist came out of the trees and started playing, slow jams that you and Elijah could sway to.

You knew he'd been planning this for a while, all the trouble he went through, the lengths he went, just to make tonight special.

"You really didn't have to do all this, all I was expecting was flowers," you confessed.

His mouth brushed against your ear and you felt yourself growing warmer from the intimate gesture. "If I didn't do any of this, then you would continue to hate this holiday. I'm going to show you that it's worth celebrating."

"Show me then," you murmured, wanting his lips against your skin.

He pressed his lips to yours, his tongue lightly brushing against yours before slowly pulling away. "I'll show you every year, every holiday, for the rest of our lives," he promised.

"I can live with that," you purred and sealed your promise with another kiss.

"I do have a confession," he whispered, his fingers weaving through your hair.

You pulled back and looked up at him. His dark eyes were soft, relaxed. You sighed contently, feeling happy and loved. "I'm listening."

"I have another surprise," he muttered, and you hummed at him curiously.

He stepped away and held your hand, leading you toward the trail of rose petals. You held on tightly and leaned into his body. You couldn't stop the silly smile that was spreading across your lips.

Once you got passed the line of trees you could see the cabin. The rose petal trail ended on the porch. It was simple and quaint. Just as beautiful as the romantic clearing you were in just minutes ago.

He scooped you up in his arms. "Elijah!" you squealed, but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Elijah quickly carried you up the steps to the door and set you down. You were both laughing and kissing. He smiled against your lips, his nimble fingers unlocking the door.

You let out a gasp as you took in the place, flowers were everywhere, their smell sweet and welcoming. There was a four-poster bed with vines of roses that were climbing the columns. A fireplace was already lit, making the entire place warm and cosy. The place was only one room, with the bed off to the side. There was a ottoman near the fire and even a telescope to look out into the night sky.

"Elijah... This is amazing." You sighed as you felt his arms slip around you from behind.

"You like it?" He inquired, his lips pressed against your cheek.

You rested your hands against his, leaning back against him. "It's gorgeous, thank you."

He took your hand and led you to the fire, where another trail of red rose petals guided you to the fluffy carpet at your feet. There were more gifts for you laid out, a massive teddy bear and a stack of chocolate bars. It all made you laugh.

"You are ridiculous," you teased, hugging him.

"Is that a good thing?" He mused, holding you and kissing you.

You hummed and sighed. "Yes, yes it is," you assured.

You felt butterflies fill your stomach, knowing what came next. The two of you had only had sex a few times, it was still new, and you were still shy around him when it came to intimacy. He'd always been respectful and sweet. It wasn't as if you were new to this, but he was unlike anyone you'd been with before.

You looked up at him. He gave you that smile that made you weak in the knees. You brushed your fingertips against the creases around his eyes, you loved how they deepened when he smiled.

He leaned in and kissed you slowly, softly, guiding you to the bed as his fingers unzipped the back of your dress. You pushed at his jacket, helping him shrug out of it. Your hands ran over his chest, fumbling with his tie. His hands pushed the straps of your dress down, kissing the newly exposed skin.

He helped you to step out of the dress, gathering it up to fold it carefully before he placed it on the ottoman. Always so organized, everything in place, clean, perfect.

But him seeing you in the sexy lingerie made him drop the dress. The look on his face was unlike anything you've ever seen. For a second it was almost as if he didn't know what to do. He seemed frozen in place, all he was doing was stare.

You felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze and you looked at him shyly. "Thank you for this," you told him, gesturing to the sexy underwear.

"It was a purely selfish purchase," he chuckled, closing the distance between you, his hand coming to rest on your waist.

He traced his fingertips across the see-through pink lace. His touch was gentle and loving. You were growing impatient. You were getting turned on by the way he was touching you, his eyes drinking you in.

You started working on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them slowly. He leaned down and kissed you again, his lips capturing yours. He walked you back to the bed, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the mattress.

He gently guided you to lie down, his mouth following yours, not breaking the kiss. You helped him to undress, removing the last of his clothing and tossing it aside.

You ran your fingers through his hair, admiring the way his dark hair was a little messed up. He smelled so good, like the cologne he always wore and just the faint smell of his natural scent.

He was on top of you, his hands holding yours. His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck. His hips moved, rubbing himself against you. You let out a soft moan, your breath hitching in your throat.

"I love hearing the sounds you make," he confessed, his lips against your ear, sending a shiver through your body.

You felt the warmth of his fingertips brushing against your inner thigh. Your body tensed in anticipation. He was taking his time, teasing you. He kissed you slowly, his tongue gently slipping between your parted lips.

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him close as his fingers teased your panties, pushing them to the side. He was still being slow, driving you crazy.

He groaned against your mouth as he felt how wet you were. You whimpered, feeling his fingers brush over your clit, circling it slowly, watching your responses. He loved the way you were looking at him, the sounds that were escaping your pretty little mouth.

He began moving down your body, kissing your neck, your collar bone, between your breasts. You reached up, trying to unhook your bra, but his hands stopped yours.

His lips closed around your nipple through the sheer fabric. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it, urging him to continue.

He continued to move lower, down your belly, smiling against your skin as he spread your legs, settling between them.

He hummed at the sight of your arousal, your wet panties clinging to your skin. He kissed along the waistband, his tongue peeking out to taste. You could feel his breath, as he moved the delicate fabric to the side.

Your hands tightened in his hair as his mouth found your clit. You couldn't help but rock your hips, pushing against his mouth. His hands moved over your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he devoured you. You moaned softly, your toes curling as his tongue slid inside of you.

He looked up at you, his eyes watching as you started to fall apart. He wanted to stay this way forever, with the taste of you on his lips, the sounds of your pleasure filling the room.

Your breathing was becoming uneven, your moans growing louder. Your thighs were trembling, your back arching as his tongue flicked against your clit.

You let out a soft cry as your orgasm hit you. Your eyes shut tight, your hands gripping his hair, trying to keep yourself together. His tongue was still on you, working you through the wave of pleasure.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips capturing yours, his fingers caressing your face, pushing your hair back. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world, and it made you melt.

He was resting between your legs, his erection pressing against you. He was still for a moment, his gaze soft and warm, just gently kissing you.

"I love you," he murmured.

You couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across your face, and neither could he. You ran your fingers through his hair, holding him closer. 

"I love you, too," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

He pulled your panties off, his eyes never leaving yours as you pulled off your bra as well, tossing it aside. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as his gaze fell upon your naked body.

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, your legs wrapping around him. He eased into you slowly, watching your eyes widen then turn hazy with lust.

His lips found yours, kissing you passionately as the two of you moved together. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling on it as you formed a perfect rhythm.

You looked down to watch him slide in and out of you. He was holding back, trying to make this last. He was always so focused, his expression almost stoic, his breathing even.

Your hands ran down his shoulders, gripping onto his biceps, your eyes never leaving his, not even to blink. You didn't want to miss a second of this.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ghosting over your lips.

You felt your face grow hot from his words, and you kissed him to avoid making eye contact. You could feel his heart beating in time with yours. He caressed your cheek, tilting your head to look at him.

You couldn't hide from him. He was looking at you so intensely, all of his love pouring out of him. He smiled at the sight of you, flushed and sweaty, you were gorgeous.

He cupped the back of your neck and held you in place as he kissed you again. Your legs began to tremble as another orgasm crept up on you. You moaned against his mouth, trying to keep your breathing even.

You couldn't hold back anymore, not with the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you. You came, moaning his name, his fingers laced with yours, your foreheads pressed together.

He followed right after, letting out a low groan that made your skin prickle. He kissed you, his mouth swallowing up your cries.

You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as the two of you rode out the high. Your heart was still racing, your breaths ragged.

The light of the fireplace cast an orange glow over the both of you, your bodies intertwined in the low light. You smiled at him, kissing him softly.

"That was a lot better than flowers," you giggled, feeling a little silly and lightheaded.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He hummed, kissing you again, his fingers caressing your cheeks.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Elijah," you whispered, nuzzling his nose with yours.

He brushed his lips against yours. "Not yet, it's still the 13th," he reminded, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Does that mean we have another night?" you purred, giving him a playful smile.

"I like the way you think," he teased, kissing you again, rolling you on top of him.

He held you close, the both of you giggling as he kissed you all over, making you shriek and squirm.

You'd never had a Valentine's Day quite like this one. But you hoped that this was just the first of many.

♡♡ Today is my three month anniversary on here & I just want to say thank you so much for all the love ♡♡

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡

BAKUGO FLUFF ೄྀ

Bakugo x reader

" best birthday blessing ever 🤍 🍰!"

- they do have a child. ٭٭٭٭٭٭

" mommy, mommy, come on hurry! " my daughter rushed me.

" I'm coming vali" I announced smirking

Why was everyone in such a rush to get me outta of the house today?.

Snapping the buckle to my heels my boyfriend had gotten me for valentines Day.

I walked down the stairs. Hand in hand with my baby girl.

" are my two ladies ready? " my boyfriend asked leaning against the wall hands in pockets. " yup! " our daughter said excitedly. Katsukis lifted his elbow for me to take and held his hand out for our baby girl. Walking out the door to our white family Range Rover katsukis opens the backdoor for Valentine to get in. " what's so funny today? " I said noticing how bubbly and giggly my baby girl was today. Is was normal to be happy. She was always happy but she just really jumpy today. Excited for something. I glanced back at katsukis as he opened the passenger side of the door for me. Kissing him as I said "thank you" while hopping in the car. The interior was beautiful black and silver. With a bit of orange accents. Katsuki gets in the drivers side a couple of moments later. " i got these for you, baby" he said while is pretty pearly whites showing from his smile. " oh my god- katsuki these are beautiful " I awed examing the beautiful Boquet of flowers." anything for you " he said. After starting the car turning on the radio. Valentine's favorite song was playing " just let my love adorn you" we sang in harmony. This day was going amazing. All of my friends and family have decided to rent out a restaurant to celebrate my birthday!. We pulled up to the restaurant . Almost immediately after getting outta of the car I was swarmed with hugs and happy birthday's from my best friends and family. We all ate and had a great time chatting it up. " so y/n when am i gonna get a another of these " Mina asked while hugging my baby girl in her arms. " when you make your own" I said, she laughed glancing at bakugo with a smirk.

It was 7:00 pm when we got back to the house. Everyone else tagging behind our car. Katsuki opening the door for me while my daughter jumped outta of dekus car " careful vali" he said worried not wanting her to fall. Looking at the rest of the kids he escorted. We all started to head for my backyard. " AHHHH! " I screamed. The whole yard had been decorated with white and gold decorations. Small tables and finger foods and drinks set up in the corner. Balloons everywhere. The pool had when covered turning the spot into a dance/ hang area. Music played. " LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED! " Denki shouted popping a bottle of champagne " katsuki baby this is amazing. Really you went all out today " . He smirked.

" all right everyone time to sing happy birthday to the birthday girl " my father announced everyone turned their attention to me as my mom slid over a cake. 27 candles on top of ( favorite flavor) cake covered in my (favorite color) frosting. " on 3" bakugo said . ' god, I love his voice... So deep and the black suit he's wearing' I thought only to be snapped outta of them with a grip on my ass. " HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU" everyone sand " Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear-" . " MOMMY~" valentine sang loudly causing everyone including me to laugh camera flashes on me. " HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUU~" . I almost blew out my candles when I was stopped. " oh you thought it was over? " my mother said. Just them everyone had bursted into song " HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YA , HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY~" everyone clapped to create a beat. I made my wish and blew out my candles. The party was going amazing but I had so on realized it was now 10pm I had sent the kids in the house up to vali's play room. " but mom I- we wanna- " " go in the house its passed all of y'all bed times" my mother ushered the children in the house. Looking at my boyfriend arms around his neck swayying to the music " I really appreciate what you did today" I said looking him in his eyes. " no biggie I just love that much that's all" he said like it was nothing. " but this looks expensive-" he shushed me " just enjoy the moment y/n" he said twirling me around and bowing me. We went from singing our hearts out to 2000's RNB to rapping drinking and Dancing to " you " by Lloyd and lil Wayne.

" stop wait a minute, the way you move that you done got my heart all up in it" the song played

" she fine too but I want you " me and katsuki sang to each other. Arms around his neck. Deep in a kiss when he pulled away directing my attention to my father .

" 27 years ago today. My daughter, y/n L/n, was born. The first role you had in my life was being my baby girly/n. Since then I have been nothing hut proud of you. From hearing you socks your first words.to walking. To being able to use the bathroom on your own.You bring light to a dark room and light it up and when I say that i speak for everyone. I watched you grow from just lying their helpless to walking through your first day of school to your last. I watched you walk across that stage with nothing but tears blurring my vision. I was so proud of you. You've grown up. My baby has baby now. And I some how ended up with 3 more children.. " he said looking at denki Mina and Kiri " aww dad stop" denki blushed. " y/n - I " my father began to sob. " y/n L/n thank you " he sobbed putting the mic down. While wiping his tears

A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn around...

I turned around only to find my boyfriend. Katsuki Bakugo. Holding my hands in his looking me in my eyes he says

" y/n L/n, I've thought of this moment for while now. I been thinking about this since i found out you were pregnant with valentine. The excitement that ran through me was electrifying. I would zone out thinking about you walking down a isle wearing white. You are the BEST thing that has happened to me. I can't promise you that marrying me would make dark clouds disappear or our everyday lives will be sunshine and rainbows. But I can promise you that my respect, loyalty, devotion, and my love for you will last longer than however long forever is. I can promise you that I'll always be here you to listen to you, to hold your hand. I can promise that will always protect you,to teach you, to counsel you, to be your lover, family and friend. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Praying with you. Building with you. Loving on you. dreaming with you. So yes..." He was now Kneeling on one knee small velvet black box open in hand revealing a pretty silver engagement ring. A huitan iced out engagement ring was presented. As I gazed at the sight in front of me in awe. Bakugo spoke up again " I katsuki bakugo am here today on (your birthday) asking for your hand in marriage... Y/n L/n...will you marry me? "

the nervousness was starting to peak on his face-." YES, YES ABSOLUTELY, I WANNA SPEND THE REST OF NY LIFE WITH YOU ALSO. YES I WILL MARRY YOU! " I yelled crying hard. Jumping into his arms as he stood up sliding the ring on my finger kissing me passionately and deeply. Cheers erupted from all of my family and friends as my fiance wiped my tears hugging me tightly. Flashes from pictures blinded my sight.

" This is the best birthday blessing ever! " I expressed

Extra :

It was the next morning. Me and my boy-fiance! We're making breakfast when our daughter came running down the stairs.

"MOMMY, MOMMY DID HE DO IT? " she questioned

I flashed my heavy hand "yes he did! " I cheered looking at her.

Katsuki pulled me closer to him by my waist kissing me then the ring.

still scrambling the eggs.

" I love you so much "

ᥫ᭡. FROM CHŪYA NAKAHARA, TO: SILVER! @silverbladexyz

AUREATCHI’S VALENTINES EVENT ⋆˙⟡♡

ᰔᩚ p.s. from reverie. i had so ideas for this, yours was so fun to do hehe !! also that’s so cool you want to learn the guzheng <3

read your letter below… ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

: WHAT MAKES THE TWO OF YOU PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER? ♡.°⑅

chuuya is probably the most loyal person you could ever meet. that definitely draws you to him because not many people are like that.

you are also a good match for him because you’re able to handle his…anger issues. you hold more patience than most, so you’re able to stay by his side until he’s able to calm down. however, chuuya obviously knows he’s so lucky to have someone like you, so he tries not to get mad so much or violently take it out. he would never hurt you, by the way, but he hates you even witnessing it.

chuuya is a gift giver, and you’ll definitely be receiving many pieces of jewelry. if he catches you looking at a necklace with interest or a few earrings in your online shopping cart, best know he’ll be surprising you with a present the following week. he’ll even buy a few matching pieces so you two can have pairs!

he CERTAINLY has good fashion taste too (i’ve been saying this since this work), so you’ll always have eyes on the both of you whenever you go out together. the ginger will also spoil you on shopping!! so be prepared to buy whatever articles of clothing you want.

be careful if you tease him. because he will always win the flirting game and leave you in a flustered mess—that’s exactly what he wants.

"Have we met? Because you look exactly like my next partner."

"Shut up, Chuu," you replied, straightening his tie. As you two were getting ready for a fancy dinner party, you had been going back and forth with telling each other silly pick-up lines.

"How do I look?" Chuuya asked when you finished. You two were glammed out to the max.

"Amazing," you giggled as you stepped back to admire the ginger and his complete outfit. "How about me?"

"Super badass for sure, doll," he replied with a handsome smile. You decided to do something different and show up in a blazer and dress pants, contrasting the others who were going to wear dresses. "But hmm...something's missing."

"Really?" You walked over to the mirror in the room, observing yourself. "What else do I need?" You touched the bare spot above your chest. You still needed to put on a necklace.

"Oh! I know what." Without saying, you moved over to your vanity to pick out a piece that matched your outfit, but Chuuya stopped you.

"Hm?" you asked.

"No need to look, I have something fit for the occasion." With that, Chuuya pulled out a new jewelry box.

Your lover certainly had a good taste for all things style, just like you. When you opened the box, you were greeted by a necklace that seemed could only work with your outfit━it was perfect.

"Hold up your hair for me." Chuuya helped place it around your neck. "There we go. You look ready to take over the world."

"Only if you do it with me," you chuckled, looking into his azure eyes. "Wait. I just thought of something."

"Go on." He smirked.

"Do you have a map? I just got lost...in your eyes."

"If you were a flower, you'd be a daaaaamn-delion."

"Okay, that one was kinda funny. But not enough to embarrass me."

He took your hand in his. "Hah. I know something that will."

"Try me," you replied, with a hint of hesitance.

"Nah, I'll save it for later. But I heard you singing in the shower earlier. You're so cute. And you have a really nice voice."

"Oh..." Now, that made you all shy. Were you really being that loud?

: OH, A NOTIFICATION? LOOK, LOOK! HE TAGGED YOU! ft. after a date…

© AUREATCHI 2024. thank you sm for participating! <3 bow divider by cafekitsune; line divider by hitobaby.

Birthday Countdown Revchase Snippets - Day 7

To celebrate Valentine's month as well as my birthday month, I'm going to post a snippet of Revchase every day until my birthday, using these prompts- there are 25 so it leads right up to my birthday!! Here's seven- we're a week in!!

7- Write about one member of your ship asking the other to dance with them.

Pairing: Robert Chase/Reverie (oc)

Media: House MD

Word Count: 769

Rating: T

CW: Alcohol

Neither of them really want to be there. Being with friends is nice, but tonight is one of those nights Chase and Reverie would rather be at home together, having a beer on the couch. But no, tonight is a hospital fundraiser dance. A formal one of all things.

Chase is dressed in a pastel blue undershirt with a khaki blazer and matching pants, a silk navy blue tie to complete the look. Reverie's strapless dress has a sweetheart neckline and the skirt reaches just above her knees– it's of a similar color to Chase's undershirt, but covered in small sparkly beads. With it, she has on pink, shiny ballet flats. The two look beautiful together, silently and arrogantly stating they're the best looking couple there.

The first place they head is, naturally, the bar. Reverie orders a vodka cranberry, and Chase a gin and tonic. As they sit at the bar and sip on their drinks, they judge the others in the crowd.

“Who knew that guy nurse from pedes cleaned up so well?” Chase says, gesturing slightly to a man in the crowd.

Reverie nods. “Damn. Can't believe that's even the same dude. Is he here with someone? A date who made him get all fancy?”

“He's here with one of the pediatricians,” a surprise voice answers them– Foreman. He approaches and takes a seat beside them. “A martini,” he requests from the bartender.

With a click of the tongue, Reverie says, “You look good, Foreman. You here with anyone?”

As he takes the martini from the bartender, he responds, “does it look like I'm here with anyone?”

Chase smirks. “Is that a coded plea for a wingman? And his angel wing-girl?”

Foreman gives both of them a stern look. “No. I'm not here for that. I honestly don't want to be here at all.”

“Cheers to that,” Reverie sighs, holding up her glass. Foreman and Chase both clink their drinks with hers.

“We should at least try to have some fun while we’re here,” Chase suggests, placing a hand on Reverie’s shoulder. “Come on, lighten up.”

Reverie rolls her eyes, but soon changes her tune as the tune literally changes. The live pianist begins to play a familiar song, and she brightens up, as Chase had asked.

“Chase, come dance with me,” she requests, standing up and grabbing both of his hands in hers. “I love this song.”

He sighs, a bit embarrassed, but follows Reverie to the dance floor regardless, giving Foreman an apologetic look. Foreman just smiles and shakes his head, happy for his friends.

“Desperado,” the live singer begins, Reverie quietly joining him, “why don't you come to your senses?

You've been out riding fences for so long now

Oh you're a hard one, but I know that you've got your reasons

These things that are pleasing you can hurt you somehow.”

Reverie twirls herself around, her dress spinning and wrapping against her legs. Chase pulls her closer, and they step together, moving to the music. They dance slowly at first, and Reverie's voice harmonizes with the singer's, though not loud enough that anyone else but Chase could hear.

“Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime?

The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine

It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day

You're losing all your highs and lows

Ain't it funny how the feeling goes

Away?”

Chase smiles that even as she dances with him, she's singing along. Not only is Reverie light on her feet, but she has a beautiful voice. He recalls her saying once that as part of her Angel of Mercy con artist act, she performed musical numbers, and wonders if it was anything like this.

Her ballet flats step gently around his wingtips, like she has mixed her ballerina roots into ballroom dancing, all the while she holds his hands tight and her voice mixes with the vocalist's. She gives one big flourish, parting her hands from Chase's, but she holds out her arm so that he can take her hand again. He does, and pulls her close once more.

“It may be rainin’, but there's a rainbow above you

You better let somebody love you

You better let somebody love you

Before it's too late.”

As the song ends, the crowd cheers, and the pair, now so close they've nearly melted into each other, exchange a chaste kiss.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” Reverie says softly, looking up at Chase with her big brown eyes.

“Of course,” he replies, giving her a genuine sweet smile. “Can I have the next dance, too?”

Valentines 2019

Valentine’s Day was another of the humans ridiculous celebrations, and usually it was one he found quite distasteful. Participating in it had never interested or occurred to him before, but he found it now to be the perfect way to slip his little songbird a gift in a way that meant she might actually accept it. To see her wearing it would bring him amusement and great satisfaction, as in his mind she would be drawing herself closer to him, becoming more and more his…

But no doubt the singer would receive a number of gifts from admirers this day, so perhaps she wouldn’t even notice or dwell on one in particular, perhaps he shouldn’t have bothered. But there it was, the gift from him, waiting for her to find it; a small, somewhat flat box. Black, and topped with a red ribbon.

A small, white card was tucked beneath the red satin of the bow. The thought that she might throw the gift away or back at him (or worse, give it away to someone else) just because it was from him was what kept him from signing the card with his name. It simply read ‘Miss Dulcet’ in an elegant font, to make clear that it was indeed left for her and her alone. It wasn’t much to go on at all, would it be enough for her to at least guess who it was from? Only time would tell, and he was looking forward to hearing from it.

What lay within the box was an expensive, glittering hair accessory. A silver hair comb with delicate swirls reminiscent of waves, and pale blue pearls and sapphires set within. Beautiful and of the highest quality, it would surely look stunning and do a wonderful job of securing the soft tumble of lilac hair Jackie possessed.

As he had walked the street earlier, he had noticed the comb displayed behind the clean glass of the jeweller’s window, along with matching hand mirror, brush, pins, and more. A new range, the small sign had said. ‘Siren’ it was called.

Siren.

He couldn’t think of anything more fitting for his little songbird, as perhaps that was what she really was after all.

Roses. Carnations. Chocolate and hearts. Huge bouquets crafted of the most vibrant daffodils and lilies and tulips, cradled along the arms of delighted women as they’d walked along the streets that day, all tittering in cheerful delight as they’d smiled wistfully against the broad shoulders of their adoring lovers.

Valentine’s Day again, was it?

Huh.

What an absolutely ridiculous holiday.

‘Stop that!’ Sharp growl ushered harshly beneath her breath at the absent thought, heels suddenly smacking just that much harder into the pavement as frustration grew, the evident furrow between her brows as she’d grumbled her way back to the club a clear warning sign to all those that’d wished to approach; veering them and their flowers off course as sheer self-preservation won out against their faltering and misguided admiration of her. ‘You are above being bitter about this, god dammit!’ 

Or at least, she’d so liked to think that she was. Yet to only add insult to injury, the female is so lost in the frustrations that she’s trying so very hard not be frustrated about, that she doesn’t even notice her awaiting admirers when she finally passes them by. 

Well - they’d tried. 

Terse aggravation continues to hound her the rest of the way to the venue, and the mood hangs heavy upon her frame as she shuffles through the entrance, deftly avoiding the rest of the staff with a swift shake of her head; a clear warning sign if anything, the female only all too unwilling to accidentally unleash the brunt of her irritation on whichever poor soul got on the wrong side of it. 

It is only once she was locked inside her personal dressing room – of where was felt safe, secure and most importantly, entirely alone – does she finally allow herself the chance to groan.

Loudly at that, and punctuated with an angry huff as she shuffles her way to the couch, only to fall heavily upon it, an equally as hefty sigh palpable upon her lips as she goes.

Ugh, Valentine’s Day.

What a fucking joke.

“Can’t even ironically celebrate being single either.” The female obstinately complains to the empty room, hand waving about wildly as she’d heavy gesticulated through her words, though the ensuing silence that’d followed did very little in its part to provide her with any actual validation whatsoever.

Because hey, the truth was – she wasn’t actually single at all really, not in the least. But god forbid if she’d ever been made to feel like anything otherwise these past few months, for not even the most celebrated Day of Love was going to change the fact that her boyfriend seemed to be acting like he was anything but.  

—- she really didn’t appreciate the reminder.  

Tight grip upon the cushion beneath her weakens as the flood of irritation seems to slip out of her at the thought, lithe arm once again slumping gracelessly back against the couch, as the heavy pang that’d resonated deep within her heart pulsed an ache so severe that it was nearly enough to make her numb.

As it was, it’d almost felt as though she didn’t couldn’t seem to care anymore, so maybe true apathy was the next step in the heartbreak process.

It wasn’t like she was actually expecting anything otherwise. She hadn’t felt any sense of attraction from the man in months, she didn’t think she knew what it even felt like anymore.

Liar.

For a moment the female’s frame runs painfully stiff, body suddenly increasingly aware as eyes shot open comically wide, image already forming within her brain before she can hope to stop it – the glimmer of amethyst hues framed by perfectly styled strands of jet black hair, a dangerously knowing smirk upon a visage that she’d often wanted to slap the ever loving shit out of – FUCK.

“Ew.” A repulsed sound upon her lips as face twisted at the memory, female attempting to ignore the very telling shiver that’d raced it’s way down her spine as eyes rolled in utter exasperation with herself; shaking her head as she’d finally pulled herself to her feet, consciously resisting the urge to bodily slap herself in full efforts to snap her out of her ridiculous haze.

She wasn’t going to be doing this to herself. She didn’t even have time to do this to herself. She’d had a show to do, she’d had people to entertain; a number of people in fact, that at least for this evening, she could only hope didn’t include him. She didn’t need the added stress, and personal issues could wait – forever if they’d had to.

They just might, at this rate.

So she grumbles to herself as she slips past her vanity and towards her wardrobe, only for female to come to an abrupt halt, suddenly turning so swiftly on her heels that she fears she must have given herself whiplash in the process. For just there – just for a moment, as her eyes had grazed against her reflection, she could have sworn she’d seen –

A box.

One lone inky black box, tied with a red ribbon and sitting most innocently right there upon her tabletop. A few uncertain paces forward, and she confirms its existence; a foreign presence that lay entirely undisturbed within the secluded comforts of the room. On its own and anywhere else, it wouldn’t have been out of place at all perhaps, and yet in this very certain scenario – there was just one concern cropping forth within her mind, and a rather perturbing one at that.  

That of the fact that she - was the only one with sole access to this room.

‘Shit.’ 

And to her credit, she doesn’t yet freak out. Yet, being the operative word. Instead – instead, she just - 

She just stares.

Stares, and stares and stares, hands perched upon her hips and pert teeth chewing unconsciously upon her bottom lip, thoughts most curiously silent as she’d thoughtfully examined her current predicament. 

There were a lot of questions cropping up, a lot of paths her thoughts could take with this type of sudden information being brought to light, but yet perhaps - gaining an answer to her first concern would prove to be much more prudent.  

She needed to guarantee she was alone.

Twenty minutes later, and after having combed practically every inch of the small room, ensuring with security that no one unusual had come through, and after thoroughly inspecting the lock on her door for signs of tampering ( of which to all three instances, the answer had been a disappointing ‘nope’ ) , she was back in her room and hovering cautiously before the box, none the wiser on who – or how for that matter – her little visitor ever came to be.

She should – probably – be scared. Concerned. Worried. And to a certain degree, she certainly is, no doubt, especially if there was the chance it was one of Garry’s — friends —  wanting to make a courtesy call with his seemingly unprotected girlfriend. But this one seemed a little too delicate a task for them to manage on their own.

The daintiness of the bow just about ensured that much. And if she’d had to assume anything otherwise, she’d almost have presumed it was a Valentine’s gift.

And yet gifts didn’t just pop out of midair, especially when the majority of her few yearly presents were – as it was nearly every year – safely stored with the bartender out front until she was due to collect it.

She should be scared. She should be. 

— but she isn’t.

Worse yet –

She’s intrigued.

Stupid as it was – irresponsible as it was – she’d found herself instead just absolutely fascinated. Enthralled. Even almost captivated by the apparent mystery of how her enigma of a visitor managed to both sneak in and sneak out of a securely guarded and locked backroom, and still managed to leave not a single trace of themselves behind.

Call her crazy, but someone who’d have gone to those lengths just to ensure she’d receive the box personally – oh dear. 

She’d feared she’d had a terrible interest in them already.

Steeling herself ( fingers crossed that this wasn’t a bomb ), the female leans down cautiously over the box to listen, and absent the sound of any ticking, straightens herself; and with a sharp exhale and careful movements, finally – does she actually pick it up.

Nothing happens upon her carrying it, nothing happens either when she very cautiously shakes it either. There’s a very light movement of the contents within the box, but nothing more.

Even more mysterious she finds, as she carefully slips the ribbon loose, white card held upwards against the light in order to ascertain the writing, is the fact that there’d appeared to be absolutely not a single indication of who’d left it. No mark, no name – just her own, scrawled elegantly across clear white parchment in a most beautiful cursive writing.

One would think after the efforts it would take to get this to her, they would have at least left a sign. At least somewhere on the box, if not the card.

But yet instead, there remains – nothing.

“Is this a ghost trying to court me…?” She asks to no one in particular, deciding to ultimately just cut her losses and open the damn thing, slipping off the cover warily – only for her lips to fall open in a small and nearly breathless gasp as the contents are revealed to her widening gaze. 

“Oh.” Damn.

Oh indeed. How absolutely – “Wow.” – beautiful.

Delicate. Fragile. An absolute work of art, so she’d found – the contents of the little black box holding an exquisite silver hair piece, crafted of shiny blue pearls and glimmering sapphires, the tight curls and wayward spirals they’d lined reminiscent of the movement of waves crashing right against the ocean shoreline.

She’d swallowed. Hard.

Beautiful, she’d repeated – even as hands trembled where it held the box, uncertain, terrified; sucking in a sharp breath as the sudden droplet of a stray tear down her cheek brought her up short – it was just so –

Endlessly beautiful.

A small sniff as she’d tried to temper her breathing, trying to regain control of emotions that were suddenly spiraling way out of control; the female brushing the back of her hand against her cheek, wiping away the evidence of her tears even as her heart beat a heavy staccato rhythm in her chest –

God, it was just so stupid, she’d belatedly mused, to be so hung up over a fucking piece of jewelry, of all things. She wasn’t the materialistic type, she was adamant on that bit. She knew that, she knew - and yet – and yet –

Pearlesque teeth biting upon the lower tier of her lips, a hand reaching cautiously upwards to run across the pads of her fingertips against the silver hued edges of the lavish adornment –

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

More tears escaped as they’d slipped down the fairness of now rose tinted cheeks, a short laugh escaping her lips, a glimmer of amusement even as she’d cried –

Goddess, what was wrong with her?

Eyes closed as she’d held the silver piece against her heaving bosom, damp lashes fluttering closed in a bid to halt the tears, a small sob escaping her lips even as she’d laughed so brokenly.

Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful – so fragile - gods. 

She should be so lucky.

To know what it’d felt like.

To even be considered worthy of something.

That.

Significant.

Jackie wears the hair pin that night, during her set on stage and long until the eventual peak of dawn. She wears it sporadically throughout the weeks that follow, styles it in a manner that draws attention from even those at the farthest corners of the room, fitting it within the depths of her hair so perfectly, that the end result settles like a cluster of bright stars burrowed against the backdrop of a lilac sky.

She doesn’t know yet who sent it, but she wants them to know she has it. Wants them to know that she loves it, adores it, so thoroughly cherishes it; the evidence of that fact so prominent in the brightness of her smile when she adorns the hair piece, so prominent in the manner of which her hands inch upwards unconsciously to graze upon it — that truly, she appreciates the sentiment of the gift, so much more then they could ever really know. 

In contrast, she never lets Garry see it, hides it against the folds of her clothes whenever she gets home, unwilling to let him take the one of the few things she can still call her own. 

It is her secret, her treasure - her anchor that steels her calm when the sheer heartache of what she hides threatens to shatter her into pieces.  

For it’d appeared there was yet someone out there maybe, that seemed to almost think her worthy - of something as exquisitely beautiful as this. Perhaps it was in a different manner altogether, and perhaps she was merely projecting only her most positive of hopes. But regardless, maybe - 

Maybe someday, she’d finally be able meet them, and find that regardless of their initial intention, she’d maybe yet be able to see that type of worth in herself too. 

In the meantime, however, for now - for now, this — 

This would be enough. 

// @bestiatexere

NSFW Alphabet: Daryl Dixon Edition

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’ve been planning on doing the NSFW Alphabet for Daryl for a while, but I hope it makes up for my absence nonetheless. I’ve tried to keep it as in character as possible -- or at least true to my perceptions of his character. Please be warned that this has explicit sexual content. Other than that, enjoy!  ♡

A for Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After catching his breath, Daryl will pull you in close and ask you if you’re alright in that thick Southern drawl of his. You can tell how much he cares about you by the slight smile on his lips and the way he traces faint circles on your hip with his thumb. He never wants to let you go, but eventually he’ll get you both a drink and ask if you want something to eat. Sometime he’ll even help you get dressed or pull you into the shower. Daryl may not be the type of man to verbalise his affection, but he certainly shows it. 

B for Body Part (of theirs and their partner)

Daryl doesn’t think particularly highly of himself when it comes to aesthetics, but he does like his arms. They’re toned. They’re strong. Not only can he keep you safe, make you feel like home is within his arms, but he can also hold you up effortlessly as he thrusts into you. Whether it’s against a wall or simply holding you up in the middle of a room with your thighs wrapped around his waist, there’s no chance he’ll drop you. 

If he can’t choose your smile, he would choose your thighs. He loves the way they look and feel against his hands, the smooth supple skin and the curve of your ass. He often naps on your inner thigh as you read on the couch, using it as a pillow as he takes in the smell of your vanilla and peach body wash. What he loves the most, however, is the strength of them clasped around his head as he eats you out. He’d happily suffocate within them if it meant getting you off. 

C is for Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It takes a long time for him to feel comfortable coming undone inside of you. The fear of pregnancy aside, he thinks the world of you and nothing of himself. He doesn’t think you deserve filth like that, but little does he know -- you like his filth. The first time is an accident, but there’s no denying how good it feels and you soon join him in climax as if being filled with his cum is what pushed you over the edge. You kiss him over and over to let him know it’s okay, and from then on he finds it harder and harder to find the will to pull out. 

Your cum, however, he can’t get enough of. Nothing riles him up like slipping his fingers into your jeans and feeling how slick you are. Your cum is liquid gold as far as he’s concerned, nothing short of a drug for him from the smell to the taste. Knowing that he can make you feel like that is intoxicating. He only ever wants to make you feel good, to feel wanted and needed and for you to whimper his name while he worships you between your legs.

D is for Dirty Secret 

Daryl often fantasizes about fucking you on his motorcycle. He isn’t sure why, it may not even be particularly comfortable, he just knows it really gets him going. The only problem is that it’s so out in the open and anyone could catch you, but that’s not going to stop him if you’re willing to try. 

E  is for Experience (how experienced are they?)

Daryl is not particularly experienced. He hasn’t had sex since the world turned to shit and even prior to that it wasn’t something he obsessed over like his brother. When you first start sleeping together, he’s uncertain of himself and scared of hurting you but your gentle touch and sweet gaze are nothing short of loving. Thankfully, he is incredibly perceptive. His desire to please you drives him. He feels how your body reacts, listens to your whines and whimpers, and watches your face contort. You tell him what to do without even realising it and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t listen. 

F is for Favourite Position

Any position where he can get as close to you as possible. He wants to feel every inch of you, your breasts against his chest, your hot breath against his shoulder, the scrape of your nails down his back. The closeness he desires fills a void inside of him. He wants to overwhelm him, he wants to hold you close and let the world around you disappear. He wants to hear you moan into his ear -- no -- against his mouth as he desperately kisses you to try and keep you quiet. Whether it’s missionary or from behind, as long as he can hold you in some way he’s happy. 

G is for Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? or funny?)

Though he might laugh at your quips, Daryl generally takes sex quite seriously. He finds it incredibly vulnerable and to him it is ultimately a profession of love. Having said this, he can’t help but sometimes smirk to himself while getting you off. 

H is for Hair (how well groomed are they? do they like body hair?)

You might have preferences regarding your own body hair but Daryl doesn’t care about how well groomed you are. It’s the Goddamn apocalypse -- who has the time to deal with all of that? As for himself, he might trim here and there out of uncertainty (he isn’t sure what you prefer) but that’s likely the extent of his grooming habits. 

I is for Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Daryl is romantic without meaning to be -- he isn’t sure what romance is beyond a steak dinner and a bouquet of flowers and the world isn’t exactly built for that anymore. He loves to kiss you and hold you close and he often checks that you’re okay. Even during spontaneous or your more carnal fucks, he’s always conscious of your reactions and wants you to feel in control even if he’s the one taking the lead. 

J is for Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

It wasn’t often Daryl touched himself before you came along. Sometimes he did it just to release some tension rather than because he was horny. Prior to realising you reciprocate his feelings, he often lost himself in thought fantasizing about you only to get hard and frustrated. He thought about your lips, the way you might sound when you moaned his name, how your thighs would feel wrapped around his head or his waist. If he didn’t curse himself for being a pervert, he’d find himself touching himself late at night or in the shower. Now that you’re his, he doesn’t feel the need to masturbate at all. 

K is for Kink 

Daryl likes it when you pull at his hair. Something about the desperation of it and the sweet sting of his scalp only makes him thrust into you harder. Though he might not realise it himself, he also has a praise kink -- being told how good he makes you feel drives him over the edge. He wants to give you everything you desire and more and hearing you moan in approval only makes him fuck you harder.

He may be apprehensive about some of your kinks, especially if they involve hurting you, but you only have to explain to him that the way he feels when you pull his hair is how you feel when he spanks you and he’s suddenly willing to try. Other than that, he’s likely more than willing to oblige and partake in your kinks if it means pleasing you. 

L is for Location 

Daryl isn’t particularly picky about where you have sex. He just wants you to feel safe and comfortable. You often end up fucking on his couch, but there’s also been a couple of instances in the shower, once on Rick’s pool table, and plenty of times in the watch towers. You almost had sex in the chapel once, but Gabriel came in singing hymns and you couldn’t stop laughing.

Though he prioritises you above anything else, fucking you into the floor or even the ground outside really gets him going. It feels dirtier, primal even, like what God originally intended or some shit like that he can’t put into words. It feels like you and him against the world and that’s all he wants. 

M is for Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going)

It doesn’t take much for you to turn him on, but he loves it when you initiate sex. The reassurance that you want him as much as he wants you is everything to him and he’s more than happy to oblige. He also loves it when you wander around in one of his shirts after a shower. It hangs off of your body like a dress and falls to the tops of your thighs so that when you bend he can see the curve of your ass. You know this, of course, and sometimes don’t wear underwear just to drive him that little bit more insane.  

N is for NO (what they will not do)

Again, Daryl doesn’t want to hurt you and he certainly doesn’t want to disrespect you. He also won’t fuck you beyond the safety of settlement walls if he isn’t absolutely sure the pair of you are safe and cannot be see or heard.  

O is for Oral (preferences, skills, etc)

It’s a long time before Daryl feels comfortable enough to let you go down on him which is primarily to do with his low opinion of himself. He already thinks he doesn’t deserve you, why would he think he deserves to experience you like that? He gets in his head, working himself up into believing you think you have to give him head when the reality is you want to. 

Going down on you is Daryl’s favourite thing to do. At first he was a little uncertain, not because he didn’t want to do it but because he didn’t want to disappoint you. He enjoys every part of eating you out from trailing kisses down your body to feeling you writhe under him as he sucks on your clit. He often makes it his mission to make you climax before he can even think about fucking you so that he can feel you pulse against his mouth and lap up your cum like he’s been been without water for days. He’s obsessed with your pussy. He’s sure it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen -- besides your eyes and that sunshine smile of yours, at least. 

P is for Pace

How hard or slow he fucks you depends on the moment and your moods. In the beginning he struggled with keeping a steady pace, but he has always prioritised making you climax first. You find that he is often passionate, sensual, and slow after a tough supply run, as if he’s trying to ground himself and find home within you. Other times, he likes to spend his time teasing you until you’re dripping wet and begging him to fuck you hard into the mattress.

Q is for Quickie (does he like them)

Daryl prefers a real opportunity to have sex over a quickie, but when the opportunity strikes he simply isn’t going to say no. Many of your quickies have occurred in the shower or in the pantry, but you’ve also been known to make use of the barn -- especially when you want the freedom to make a little noise. 

R is for Risk (experimenting, taking risks, etc)

While Daryl is more than willing to experiment, the idea of getting caught by someone mortifies him. It’s too vulnerable and intimate. He’d likely lose his temper immediately if someone were to walk in on you two having sex, especially if they were in a position to see too much of you. 

S  is for Stamina

This depends on a number of things, like the mood Daryl is in and how his day went. Sometimes, he wants it to last because he’s trying to lose himself and find relief. Other times he simply wants to make you feel good for as long as possible, draw orgasm after orgasm out of that pretty mouth of yours. It isn’t often you have enough time in the day to get more than one round in, but when you do it tends to be filthy and carnal and he loves every second of it. 

T is for Toys

Daryl has little to no experience with sex toys which means you’re the one who has to introduce them. He’d rather use his hands or his mouth instead of relying on a vibrator to get you off. Watching you get yourself off, however, is another matter entirely, especially when it’s him you’re fantasizing about and his name you’re whimpering as you fuck yourself in front of him. 

V is for Volume

In his day to day life, Daryl isn’t particularly talkative and this doesn’t change much during sex -- especially in the beginning. He often swears and he certainly grunts and groans, but it’s only later on in your relationship when he’s more secure in himself that he finds himself encouraging you to cum as if making you tremble is what he was put on this Earth to do. 

He loves to listen to you moan and whimper. The louder you are, the better, but since you have to be careful he’s also learned to love trying to keep you quiet so that you don’t get caught. He especially enjoys hearing you say his name and telling him how he makes you feel. 

W is for Wildcard

Daryl isn’t into anything too extreme or unconventional when it comes to sex, however it surprises both of you how into ‘phone sex’ he is when you’re both apart and have no choice but to talk to each other over the radio. You initiated it as a joke, thinking he wouldn’t even try to entertain your nonsense, but he’s soon trying to keep himself from grunting down the walkey while asking you -- in so many words -- to tell him everything you’re thinking, doing, and wearing. 

X is for X-Ray 

It took a long time for Daryl to be comfortable being completely naked in front of you, though that’s more because of the scars on his back rather than his lack of self-confidence. You make him feel good, feel worthy, and he soon forgets how self-conscious he is when he’s with you. 

Y is for Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Daryl doesn’t have the highest sex drive, especially if you want to compare him to his brother, but it doesn’t take much for you to get him hard and desperate to be inside of you. You have a higher sex drive than he does, he might even tease you for it, but he’ll never complain when he gets to hold you close and show you how much you mean to him.

Z is for ZZZs (how fast do they fall asleep)

After sex, Daryl likes to talk to you for a little while or just take in the moment with you in his arms. You might not talk about anything of substance, but he enjoys the calm after the storm. He makes sure that you’re comfortable, holding you close and kissing the back of your neck before he allows himself to drift off to sleep. 

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I’d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

Tag 🔖 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @maurine07 @lovingramsey @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @archxxronrookie @jamespotterthefirst @the-pale-goddess @queencarb @fireycookie @qrkowna @coffeeheartaddict @utterlyinevitable @gryffindordaughterofathena @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @mrs-ramsey @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @mercury84choices @lisha1valecha @lucy-268 @stateofgracious @danijimenezv @alina-yol-ramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Galentines Gone Wrong

Pairing: Wendell Bray x Reader, Valentine’s Special.

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Y/n Booth is an FBI agent who works under her brother Seeley Booth and is also partnered with the Jeffersonian. Valentines rolls around and Cam, Daisy, and Y/n are all painfully single. Brennen and Angela join in and the group decides it’s girls night, get absolutely smashed, cause major chaos and get arrested for disturbing the peace. When their counterparts show up to bail them out, girls night turns to date night... or whatever this is.

Edit, March 11th: I hate the end of this. I reread it and it’s lowkey trash, but I’m going to keep it up because people seem to be enjoying it. Just a disclaimer that this is not my best work.

Notes: Tbh I second guessed this yesterday, hence the late post. I want to clarify that Wendell IS NOT preying on a drunk girl, and there was no drunk hookup. This is definitely not my favourite thing I’ve written and I was so out of ideas for the ending, but fck it, I have a migraine and feel like the personification of death. ALSO I WOULD NEVER USE GALENTINES IRL IK ITS LAME BUT I SIMPLY DO NOT CARE. HOLDIDAY SPIRIT BABES. Anyway, on with the show.

It’s been a long night. Fun, but long. You wake up against Daisy’s side, stretching lazily, and still partially drunkenly. As you sit up, you recall the events that led to your current seat in a drunk tank.

The five of you ended up in a biker bar, huge leather-clad and big bearded dudes all over the damn place. Despite being big scary bikers, they were chill and actually bought half of your drinks. Then you and Daisy got a little too close to an attractive younger biker, and his girlfriend was not having it. So an argument turned full on brawl caused the lot of you to bail out of the bar and trek back into town.

Only you were real rowdy, laughing and singing, a little to loudly for anyone’s liking. And got the cops called on you. And got thrown in a dunk tank. Unfortunately “you can’t arrest me, I am the law” doesn’t work if you’re drunk. The cops weren’t a fan of your badge, either.

You’re torn from your thoughts at the sound of voices down the hall, and you stumble over the the bars of the cell, holding onto them for balance. A half-hour nap didn’t do much to sober you up. The voices get closer, and your friends and brother walk in. Wendell’s the first one you notice, your eyes immediately darting to him. He’s wearing a hot ass black jacket, jeans and a white T-shirt, and you stare at him for a lot longer than you should.

“Hey, BJ. Never thought I’d see you on the other side of the bars.” Hodgins laughs at your expression of annoyance, and lets the cop they’re with open the cell door. He walks over to grab Angela, and you scoff.

“I told you to stop calling me BJ. I know you mean Booth Junior, but other people might think something else,” you mutter, much less than impressed at the innuendo tied to the nickname.

Your brother and Sweets go collect Brennan and Daisy, and Cam stands up on her own. She’s the most level-headed of all of you, and she’s completely sobered up now. Wendell walks to your side, your brother is too occupied with his (much less coordinated than you are) wife. Wendell puts an arm around you, and you gladly lean into him, hands settling on his chest.

“You’ll never guess what we did,” you giggle drunkenly against Wendell’s chest, overcome with the giddiness of a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Apparently you guys disturbed a lot of peace.” Wendell has somewhat of an impressed/concerned/entertained smirk on his face. He looks down at you, massively interested in the story as to how you got here. Not that he’ll hear it anytime soon.

“How’d you know?!” You look up at him with surprise written all over your face, a gasp escaping your lips, and it takes a lot for him not to burst out laughing.

“The sheriff told me. Let’s take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, much more sullenly than five seconds ago.

Wendell keeps an arm around you, more than a little worried that you’re gonna fall over, and takes you to his car. You get in the front seat, smacking his hand away as he tries to help with your seatbelt. After successfully buckling the seatbelt, you glance back at him with a smirk.

“You know if you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask.”

Wendell nearly chokes and dies at what you’re insinuating. He’s also not sure if this is the tequila talking or if it’s you talking. Composing himself quickly, he lets out a chuckle, saying something along the lines of ‘okay then,’ and closes the door for you. He walks around the front of the car, making his way to the driver’s seat. Hodgins drives by, Angela and Cam in the car with him, and waves as he heads home.

Seeley pulls up beside Wendell, looking at him sternly. Daisy and Brennen are singing in the back seat, and Wendell can see Sweets in the front seat, holding back laughter. It’s a funny sight really, the usually stoic Dr. Brennen and overly excitable Daisy, swaying together in the back seat singing an off-key rendition of piano man. Seeley makes a face at a certain piercing high note that comes from Dr. Brennan, before turning to Wendell.

“Listen man, I appreciate it. If we didn’t live on the opposite side of town, I’d take her home.” Seeley leans out the window slightly, looking at Wendell.

“It’s no problem, really.” Wendell smiles, giving your brother a small wave as he turns to get in his car. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

“Wait! Not that I think you will, but don’t try anything. Alright?”

“Course not, man. Don’t worry, I got this. Head home, I’ll text you when I get Y/n home.” Wendell knows your brother means no harm, obviously, yet can’t help but think about why he’d even think to say that to him.

When he gets back in the car, seeing you sleeping soundly in the passenger seat, curled up and leaning against the window, his worries melt away and he smiles. He turns the car on and lowers the radio volume before driving off.

Tonight summarizes the two of you pretty well, actually. Y/n, the chaotic do-good-er badass, and Wendell, the (sometimes also chaotic) best friend, who always has your back. Sometimes it pains him that you only see him as that, a best friend, but he’s okay with just being that. A friend. Because it means he gets to see you happy. Little does he know, you wouldn’t have gotten so sauced tonight if you weren’t drinking away the thoughts of his lips on yours, his skin pressed against yours as the night turns to morning, the idea of a spark that doesn’t exist. The day of love sucks.

And for some reason, neither of you can see that you’re crazy about each other. Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to ruin what you have, or maybe it’s because you’re both just oblivious, but it doesn’t make a huge difference. Nothing seems to be happening.

Wendell is occupied with a lot of thoughts as he drives to your place. His mind bounces all over the place. He thinks about how you met, when you first walked into the Jeffersonian covered in dirt and sweat (in a cute way... even though he thinks anything is cute on you) after a chase in the desert, just to see your brother and make sure he was okay. He also thinks about the time he literally ran into you and the two of you fell down the platform stairs. The alarms went off, and everyone stared at the pair of you tangled up on the floor. Needless to say it took a while to live that one down. He thinks about every time he’s seen you laugh, and the few that he’s seen you cry. Not that you really even cried, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You don’t exactly do emotions, not out in the open at least.

He thinks about every reason he’s so smitten with you. You’re courageous, selfless, you protect your friends and family, you’re cutthroat and ferocious, yet simultaneously the sweetest person he’s ever met. You care about every detail of his day when you ask how he’s doing, and you can tell when the slightest thing is off with him, or anyone else at the lab, except for noticing his flaming crush on you. And as he thinks about all the little things, he realizes it can’t stay bottled up forever. He has to tell you.

Before long, you’re home. The two and a half hour drive have Wendell a lot of time to think, yet somehow it also feels like he’s had no time at all. The time has also started your trail toward sobriety, and you can at least think coherently. Wendell wakes you, and when you wake up, your hand goes to your head.

“Good god. Did I get hit by a bus?” Your words are still slightly jumbled together, but you’re getting back to business as usual, and that’s good enough.

“There she is,” he singsongs playfully, glad to see your usual demeanour starting to return. You unbuckle your seatbelt, groaning when you go to move. Wendell offers you a hand, and you take it.

Helping you up, he puts an arm around your waist again. You stumble slightly, and when he catches you, you fall against him, leaning against his chest. He ends up just scooping you up off the ground and carrying you inside, placing you on the couch. You’re mostly in good shape, just awful clumsy and distracted due to your headache. Wendell heads into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and some crackers.

“How you doing?” He sits by your thigh, putting an arm on the back of the couch and looking over at you. You cover your face with your hands, laughing gently.

“Ugh, please tell me I didn’t actually make the worst sex implication joke ever.”

“Um...”

“Oh shit. This is embarrassing.” You sit up, still a little tipsy, but not as messed up as you were at the police station. Maybe if things go off you can play it off as Valentine’s tequila. “Fuck it. I’m just gonna go for it. Tonight was fun or whatever, but I really wanted to spend it with you.”

“We could’ve done that. We can hang out this weekend if you want.”

“No, no. You really are a blonde.” You laugh, nudging his shoulder with your fist. Suddenly nervous, you start to ramble. “Not that that’s bad, because you’re definitely pretty. You’re a cute blonde, and you do have really nice arms, they’re really toned, and you know, at the garage you wear these tight shirts and sometimes I just stare and I worry you see, but-“

“Y/n! You’re getting off track here.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, laughing at your rambles. “Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”

“I like you a lot.” The words are out of your mouth before he’s even finished his sentence. “Like I have feelings for you?” It comes out like a question, but it’s meant as more of a fearful statement.

“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and his smile falls. At first you think he’s about to run for the hills, but when a small smile appears on his face you’re not so sure.

“Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you curse, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. That’s fuckin embarrassing.

“No, I like you, too. A lot.” Wendell takes your hand, and you lay against his side as he keeps talking. “We can talk more, when you’re sober. But I do like you. And I think that if we decided that this weekend’s hangout was more ‘ice skating in the park’ instead of ‘trying to kill each other at the rink’, I’d be more than okay with that. I’d like that a lot, actually.” He lets out a small, nervous chuckle, and he glances down at you, fingers grazing your cheek as he contemplates if it would be weird to cup your face with his hand and run his thumb over your cheek.

“Really?” You look up at him with an adorable awestruck expression, and he nearly bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, really.” A smile stays glued to his face, and he shifts slightly, which causes you to sit up. “Now, you should probably go to bed, so that you’re not completely useless tomorrow.”

Wendell plants a small kiss on the top of your head, before standing and scooping you up, bringing you to your room. He drops you gently on your bed, and you let out a small giggle as you bounce slightly with the impact. You banish him from your room so that you can change, and not really paying attention, grab a black hoodie and shorts out of your closet. When you open the door again, he’s just leaning against the wall outside.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where you wanted me to set up- is that my hoodie? I’ve been looking for that!”

“Huh?” You look down at the sweater, seeing the small Jeffersonian logo on the left side of the chest, and the initials on the sleeve. “Oh, I guess it is.” You remember when he gave it to you, he couldn’t stand the idea of you remaining in your blood soaked T-shirt, the grey had become a sticky maroon, too much so to be comfortable. “You can have it back-“

“No, you keep it.” He steps closer, lifting your chin so that you look at him, and brushing a stray hair out of your face. His voice drops, becoming softer and breathy. “It’s much cuter on you anyway,” he murmurs, making you blush profusely, a little laugh escaping your lips.

The two of you fall silent, each staring at the other’s lips. A hum comes from the furnace, causing you both to startle slightly, and it ends the moment. You glance back at Wendell again, before sitting on your bed. He tilts his head at you, mildly confused as to what you’re doing.

“Where did you want me to sleep?”

“Wherever you want. There’s blankets and a few pillows in the closet.”

He thanks you and walks out, and you breathe in deeply, not realizing how shallow your breathing had become. Your mind is racing, and so is your heart. This is simultaneously about the best and worst Valentine’s you’ve ever had. As you mull over the events of tonight, you slide under the blankets, laying back and staring at the ceiling. The shuffling in your living room comes to a stop, and you can hear Wendell coming back to your room. He stops in the doorway.

“Came back to say goodnight,” he says softly, making your heart melt.

“You mind staying for a while?” You sit up, looking at him. He glances over his shoulder at you, a perplexed expression plastered on his face. “What?! I’ve had a rough night,” you say, pretending to be offended. He makes his way over, laying on your bed, on top of the blankets. You roll over and face him, looking up at him lazily. “Goodnight, Wendell.”

You drift off to sleep fairly quickly, but not before you subconsciously lay your head on his chest. He’s terrified at first, frozen in place and afraid to breathe, but after a few minutes he collects himself and calms down. You sleep soundly, curled up beside Wendell. He’s warm and he smells good, and he’s pretty comfortable. By the morning, the two of you are completely intertwined, tangled in blankets and each others’ arms.

The two of you grab a greasy breakfast (and some Advil) and spend the day together, actually talking about what happened the night before. Most of the day is spent at your place, you and Wendell lounging around on your couch as you binge watch your favourite series and try to overcome your hangover.

The next days and weeks fly by, you and Wendell getting closer and closer. The pair of you go on a few dates before things are made official, Wendell going as far as taking you on a walk in the snow and officially asking you out by the outdoor rink. He even reserved ice time so the two of you could skate around like idiots and pass a puck around.

And eventually, when people start to see you’re together, and ask about your story, you have to tell them he bailed you out of jail after Galantine’s gone wrong.

slip n slide | han jisung

>> masterlist

♥ pairing: han jisung x gn! reader 

♥ genre: fluff, valentine's day special, drabble (1k)

♥ warnings: none

♥ a/n: so...this is my first time writing something so short. I tried to make it gn but if I slipped up, please let me know. Enjoy <3

ps: this was written for the @newskynet​ Valentine's Day special event. the prompts I used were: 20. “Babe.” / “Since when do you call me babe?” and 25. “I love you.”

“Come on Jisung, slow down,” you shouted at your boyfriend who was running a few steps ahead of you, laughing like a maniac as you tried to catch up to him.

“You'll have to catch me, sweetheart,” he sing songed.

“But it's really slippery,” you whined, “I could slip and break something.”

“You're not that clumsy, are you?”

Speak of the devil. Just as he said that you could feel yourself lose your footing as your right foot slid across the frosty surface.

“Aaaahhh,” you screeched, closing your eyes and preparing for the inevitable fall. 

But it never came.

You slowly opened your eyes to see Jisung grinning from ear to ear at your confused expression.

Seems like he managed to catch you just in time, his hands steady around your waist as he kept you from falling flat on your butt. You felt your cheeks heat up at the whole ordeal. Why were you such a damn klutz?

“I caught you just in time, what would you do without me sugar?” he smirked, smugness lacing his tone.

“Oh shut up,” you retorted, swatting his face away as you finally steadied yourself on your feet. You took a few shaky steps before finally regaining your balance, patting him on the head and yelling: “tag, you're it.”

You ran as fast as you could leaving your confused boyfriend in the dust. You maneuvered through all the other couples, trying to avoid bumping into anyone and ruining their date. You see - with the current situation, you weren't the only ones who decided to celebrate valentine's day in the park. All the restaurants, cinemas, and other establishments were closed, so you had to find other ways to enjoy yourselves.

You two had agreed to meet in the park after lunch and just mess around and have fun.

About five minutes have passed in the meantime, and you were starting to wonder, where was Jisung and why he hasn't caught up with you yet. You were about to turn around and go look for him but a sudden noise near you, coupled with hands on your shoulders made you freeze in your spot.

You yelped in surprise but quickly calmed down after seeing who it was.

“Jisung!” you scolded, “don't do this to me you meanie.”

The pout on your face made him coo as he slung his arm around your shoulder, moving in the direction of the hot chocolate stand.

“And you're a cutie. C'mon, let's go get something warm.”

You could feel yourself heat up again. And it definitely wasn't because of the chilly weather. You wordlessly followed him, contemplating on how did you even manage to get such a loving boy as a boyfriend. 

You had lucked out in the love department, that was for sure.

As you two walked down the path in hopes of getting a warm drink, Jisung kept joking around throwing in some compliments here and there. You felt your heart skip a beat every single time, still not used to his treatment. 

“What's wrong Y/N? Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I'm just happy,” you smiled, taking his palm in yours fondly.

It was his turn to blush now, he quickly turned to face the side, waiting for the redness on his cheeks to subside.

“Oohh,” you teased, “got a taste of your own medicine, haven't we.”

“Yes,” the agreement came surprisingly quickly, “but I still haven't shown you what I'm capable of.”

Laughing at your confused state, he placed his hands under your body and swiped you off your feet.

“Sung!” you screeched, in annoyance and delight alike as he ran down the park, scaring all the couples away and making them involuntarily clear the way for you.

“Put me down. Right now!” you ordered but the will to fight left your body a long time ago.

“Just a second babe, we're almost there.”

“Hey! Since when do you call me babe?” you questioned, quirking your eyebrow.

“Since now babe. Look, there's the hot chocolate stand. Quick, before there'll be a line,” he ushered you towards the booth.

You tried to go there but two older men stood your way. It seemed like trouble, Jisung seemingly thought so too as he pushed you behind him, acting as a shield.

“What do you want? Why won't you let us through?” he barked.

“Oh sorry, we just wanted to ask if you were interested in getting professional photographs done...they're two dollars each. You know - since it's Valentine's and all.”

The two of you looked at each other surprised, not expecting to be asked something like that. “D-do you want to get them?” Jisung asked you.

“Umm, sure...I guess.”

“Okay,” he shrugged, clasping your hand and walking over to where the two photographers went.

“Stand in this circle,” one of them instructed, pointing at the fading circle drawn with a piece of chalk. The other one in the meantime prepared the camera, pointing it at the two of you as he readied for the “photo shoot”.

“Now do a funny pose.”

You stood there awkwardly, not knowing how you should pose but thankfully, Jisung wasn't one to shy away from PDA.

He initiated many different poses, ranging from holding you bridal style, making funny faces, and even kissing your cheek on the last one.

You almost combusted from the embarrassment, Jisung seemingly not minding all the poses he just did, perfectly unbothered like always.

“Thank you very much,” he smiled, handing them a crisp banknote.

“Come on babe, let's get the hot chocolate.”

“Coming,” you ran after him, only to enfulg him in a bear hug much to his surprise.

“I love you Jisung,” you muttered shyly.

“Oh, babe...I love you too, I was kind of hoping to say it first today,” he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Doesn't matter who said it first.”

“Well, I'll at least say it more times. I love you,” he groaned into the embrace.

...

Sweethearts

Troy Bolton x Reader

Words: 4327

Summary: Following the efforts of a smaller, eviler version of Sharpay, the reader doubts her abilities and her relationship. Troy must restore her faith in herself in time for the perfect Valentine’s day dance. 

Notes: Can I Have This Dance is literally my favorite scene from the whole series so I had to use it for this. Highly recommend listening to it before reading to get the feel.  Let me know what you think! I’m so sorry it's so long, but I really loved getting into the romance. I’m pretty proud of this one, so just a little extra love would be very appreciated.  (There’s also a 17 Again reference in here, if you catch it) Also, I couldn’t decide which gif I liked more, so I had to use both!

-

You couldn’t help the slight squeak of fear in your voice as the group of girls walked towards you. 

“Hi Sharpay.” You greeted anxiously. She flipped her impossibly shiny blonde hair over her shoulder. She really was terrifying when she wanted to be. 

“I heard that you might be signing up to perform in the Sweetheart’s Showcase.” She raised an accusing brow. 

“Oh, um, yeah.” You stammered. “I was thinking about doing a duet with-”

“Blah blah blah, I know that. What are you wearing?” Her glare intensified, as did your confusion.”

“I-I don’t-” “Just make sure it isn’t pink, okay?” Sharpay ordered and her little pack nodded in agreement. “Pink is my color.”

“O-okay.” Was all you managed to say. She and her posse strutted off, but Madison gave you a lingering stare. You gulped. Sharpay may be the leader, but Madison was the shark of the group. Once she smelled blood, she would not be stopped. And ever since you’d started dating the basketball captain…

“Guess who?” A pair of hands covered your eyes. Maybe it was from his time spent on the roof, but Troy always smelled like fresh summer air. 

“Hmmm… Mrs. Darbus?” You giggled. Troy’s arms wrapped around your middle and lifted you off the ground, making you laugh more. He swung you around before setting you back and spinning you so you were facing him. 

“Ha ha.” He snarked, eyes sparkling in a particularly suspicious way. “What did ‘Her Majesty’ want?” You shrugged.

“She told me I couldn’t wear pink for the show case because it’s ‘her color’.” You laughed. “I wouldn’t dare try to outshine the Princess of Pink.”

“Yeah… about the showcase…” Troy looked at the floor. You felt your heart drop a little.

“You want to back out, don’t you?” You sighed sadly. “I mean, I get it. Performing in front of everybody freaks me out too-”

“Woah woah woah.” Troy laughed, that sparkle shining brighter. “I was just hoping that you would wear this.” He dangled a chain in front of you. The necklace was a stunning heart-shaped charm made with little red gems.

“Troy.” You gasped, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “It’s beautiful.” 

“I figured you’d be stressed out over the showcase and the paper so I thought you’d like a little early Valentine.” He shrugged and you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before turning around so he could put it on you. His fingers grazed your skin as he draped the chain around your neck.

“I wish I had something for you.” You whined, draping your arms around his neck as his arms fell to your waist. 

“Just promise me a Valentine’s Day kiss and that is all I need.” He grinned and pulled you closer for a kiss. 

It was quite a shock to the status quo when you and Troy started dating. The shy editor of the school newspaper and the star player of the basketball team made an interesting pair. But when Mrs. Darbus paired the two of you together to paint set in detention, something just… happened. You opened up around Troy more than you could with anyone. You helped him realize that there was more to him than basketball when you got him to sing with you at your vocal recital last year. Somehow the two of you just worked. 

“I hate to interrupt,” Taylor scoffed. “But the yearbook won’t edit itself.” You gave your best friend a look and Taylor smirked. 

“Sorry Troy.” Gabriella laughed, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the hall. “We’ll see you at lunch!” The three of you rushed down the hall and Troy went to go find Chad.

“Ugh, he is so dreamy.” Libby, one of Sharpay’s sophomore groupies, sighed. Madison made a sound of disgust. 

“And yet somehow he got stuck with that.” She watched you vanish into the journalism classroom and closed her locker. “Shouldn’t the Crowned Prince of East High be with someone a little more, I don’t know, worthy of his attention?” 

“Who, like Sharpay?” Libby asked, applying another coat of lip gloss. Madison smirked. 

“Yeah.” She turned her head to the jersey-clad boy retreating down the hall. “Like Sharpay.”

-

“So can I have this dance?”

“Can I have this dance?”

Your eyes were locked together as the room erupted with applause. You were in Troy’s arms before you had the chance to move. 

“You guys, that was amazing!” Gabriella squealed with excitement. 

“I couldn’t imagine anyone better to sing it.” Kelsi smiled, tucking the music into her folder. Even Taylor was impressed.

“I still think you two should give it a shot.” Troy nodded towards Taylor and Chad. You laughed into his shoulder as excuses tumbled out of their mouths. 

“Let’s go, I think my mom is making some nachos.” You laced your fingers through his and told everyone you’d see them tomorrow. After practice rehearsals were exhausting for Troy, but he knew how happy it made you. Besides singing with you was the perfect way to relax after a long day of practice of running and shooting hoops. Plus, your mom made killer nachos. 

His truck sputtered to a start and he winced. You giggled and earned a playful glare. At least it started this time. Sometimes, the two of you were stranded in the school parking lot until Troy could get his truck to start. You never minded. With minimal bumps and jolts, Troy was able to get to your house. 

“I think the song is really coming together.” You said as the two of you made your way to the front door. “Ryan said he’d love to choreograph something for us.” 

“How sweet.” Your door opened and Madison gave you a seemingly innocent smile. You stopped so suddenly Troy almost walked right into you. 

“Maddie.” You tried to seem pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t your mom tell you?” She laughed and pulled you inside- rather forcefully you might add. “My mom and her are in the same book club! She invited us to join you guys for dinner.” She looked over your shoulder and a little menacing glint appeared in her eyes. “Oh, hi Troy.”

“Hey.” He greeted uncomfortably, following you inside. 

“I hope you don’t mind the extra company tonight.” Your mother beamed. “Julie was saying how excited Madison has been to work with you two for the musical and I thought it’d be fun for you kids to get to know each other.”

“That sounds great, Mr.s Y/L/N.” Troy put on that charming smile of his and pulled your chair out for you. Madison stood for a moment, as if she was expecting him to do the same for her. Being a gentleman, he moved her chair back before taking a seat. 

“So you guys were talking about your number for the Sweetheart’s Showcase?” Maddie asked, eyeing Troy in a less than subtle way. He glanced at you with the same slightly scared look he had when he had to sing with Sharpay at the resort. 

“Uh, yeah. Ryan said he had some choreography in mind.” Even after over a year of dating, sometimes the way he looked at you still gave you butterflies. “I mean, I think just singing would be fine-”

“You guys have to dance.” Maddie blurted. She flipped her hair over her shoulder- just like Sharpay, but like, pettier. “What I mean is, it would be so romantic, don’t you think?” 

“I agree.” Your mom said excitedly. You shot a look. 

“I’m sure what Ryan has planned will be great.” You concluded, hoping to drop the subject. You didn’t really want to discuss your super romantic duet in front of Madison. 

Dinner passed painfully. The only thing keeping you from screaming out in frustration was Troy’s silly antics. From funny faces to pretending his chips were fighter planes, he distracted you from Madison’s subtly back-handed comments. The adults mistook them for compliments, but you knew exactly what she meant. 

“Wow, I am totally beat.” Maddie exclaimed just as the parents started to go out to the porch, like adults do. 

“Oh, I guess we’ll call it a night.” Her mom frowned. 

“You stay and have fun, mom.” She smiled sweetly. “Troy can give me a ride. Right, Troy?”

“Um,”

“Great!” She practically skipped  to the front door. 

“You really are too good to be true, Mr. Bolton.” Her mother gushed before stepping out onto the back porch with your parents. 

“I’ll walk you out.” You said, not really sure if you were irritated, confused, or a little impressed. 

“You’re coming to the game tomorrow night, right?” Troy asked as you made your way down the front steps. Madison was already in the front seat, checking her reflection in the mirror. You shrugged. 

“Actually I was thinking about catching a movie.” His shoulders sagged with disappointment. You shook your head. “Of course I’ll be there!” You exclaimed with a laugh. Troy put his hands on your cheeks and leaned in for a goodnight kiss. 

“Oh Troy!” Madison called from the truck and the two of you pulled a part. “I should be getting home. I’m totally-” She yawned dramatically, “exhausted.” Troy sighed, settling for a light kiss on your cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” He reluctantly ran to his truck and you went back inside. Before the door closed, you couldn’t help but smirk as you listened to the sputtering sound of his truck refusing to start.

-

The sound of the crowd was a driving force on it’s own. Troy raced across the court, keeping his eyes locked on his teammate. Chad passed him the ball and he made the shot, that satisfying swish of the net drowned out by the cheers. After a tiring week of practice and rehearsals, his body was pumping with adrenaline. 

“Go Troy!” He picked your voice out over the chorus of cheers. He found you at the edge of the bleachers towards the top and flashed you a smile before taking off again. Gabriella helped you hold up your #14 sign and Kelsi came back from concessions with the popcorn. You and Kelsi weren’t usually ones for sports, but ever since you’d started coming to games you’ve all had a blast. The buzzer sounded. 

“That ends the third quarter here at Wildcat Stadium,” The announcer’s voice boomed. “Hornets 40, Wildcats 58.” 

The fans hollered and you caught Troy’s eye again, giving him a grin that lit up the gym. He pressed his lips to his fingers and pretended to toss the air-kiss like a basketball. You pretended to catch it, accidentally stepping in the strap of the purse behind you.

There was a wave of gasps from the crowd and both teams stopped to see what the commotion was. Troy looked up to see a horrified Gabriella and an empty space where you had been standing. 

“Y/N!” He yelled, running across the court to where a group of people had gathered, including the school nurse. 

“Give her some space! Back up!”

“Let me through! That’s my girlfriend!” Troy pushed his way to the font. You were on the floor, but you were sitting up, trying to catch your breath. 

“Is she okay?” Gabriella yelled down at him. Behind her, Maddison tossed her purse over her shoulder and vanished into the crowd. 

“I think I'm okay,” You groaned. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You tried to stand, but cried out when a sharp pain shot up your let.” 

“Take it easy,” Troy soothed, kneeling at your side. 

“Where does it hurt?” The nurse asked. 

“My ankle.” You moved your leg so she could examine it. 

“Looks like it might be sprained.” She sighed. “Let’s get you to my office and take a closer look, okay?” 

Troy put your arm over his shoulder and helped you stand. The nurse took your other arm and gave Troy a reassuring smile. 

“I can take it from here. You go win this game, Mr. Bolton.” 

“But-”

“I’ll be fine, Troy.” You kissed his cheek. “Go get em Wildcat.” The nurse helped you limp out of the gym and Gabriella and Kelso followed close behind. 

Sharpay watched the whole scene from the very top of the stands, eyes narrowed with suspicion. She had seen Maddison pull her bag away just when Y/N fell and it definitely was not a coincidence. The little pirana was playing a dangerous game and Sharpay was not about to let her win. 

-

The show case was just a night away and your ankle still ached whenever you stepped on it, even after a week. You tried not to let it show when Ryan was teaching you the steps, but they hardly let you practice at all. Taylor was furious you were still going through with it. Mrs. Darbus was at least more than willing to let you rehearse during homeroom. 

“And, one two three, one two three,” Ryan tried not to sound irritated when Troy took another wrong step. 

“Sorry.” He grimaced. Ryan just took a deep breath. 

“Just start from ‘wherever we go next’.” He instructed and you tried to remember the steps. “And one two three and lift-” Troy lifted you up and spun the way Ryan showed him. When he set you back down, you stepped wrong. 

“Ow!” You cried, stumbling backwards into the piano. 

“That’s it. You can’t do this anymore.” Taylor said sternly. “You’re going to hurt yourself even more and then you won’t be able to dance at all.” 

“I can do this. It already feels better.” You insisted and she scowled. Troy took your hands in his, the sweetness in those perfect blue eyes just making you feel even more guilty. 

“We can figure something else out.” He felt awful for even pushing you this far. Tomorrow was Valentine’s day and you’d barely had a quiet moment, let alone long enough to destress. “How about we just call it a day? We can go to a movie tonight and just hang out. Just you and me.” You shook your head. 

“I can get this. I just need a second.” You felt ridiculous storming out with crutches, but it was what you had. Troy moved to follow, but Gabriella shook her head. 

“Just give her a minute.” 

You didn’t notice the troop of girls following you to your locker and you were too frustrated to care. You could get this right. Troy had worked too hard with after practice rehearsals and countless hours going over the music with you for you to mess all of it up now. Sometimes you couldn’t help but think he was too good for you. 

You opened your locker and watched dozens of paper Valentine’s float to the floor. At first, you thought this was a sweet gesture from your boyfriend. Then you actually read them. Talentless Freak. Get off the stage. East High’s Resident Loser. 

“Looks like Y/N has an admirer.” Madison sneered and her group of underclassmen terrors erupted with cackles, drawing more people out of Darbus’ room. You set your crutches to the side and picked up one note in particular. Troy’s Tragic Charity Case.

Your heart dropped and the laughing just got louder. You couldn’t even run. You had to stand there and listen, looking at the cruel smirk on Madison’s face as the words echoed in your head over and over again. Charity Case. 

“Y/N- oh my god,” Gabriella exclaimed, looking at the mess of fake Valentines. “Let’s get out of here. Taylor.” 

“I’ll drive you home.” Taylor picked up your crutches and the two practically guarded you as you made your way down the hall. 

By the time Troy got out into the hallway, most of the girls were gone, leaving only the notes scattered across the floor. He didn’t find you until you were already at Taylor’s car. 

“Wait!” He yelled before you closed the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going home.” You sighed, brushing away a fallen tear. “Everyone is right. I can’t do this. Even if my ankle was fine, I couldn’t pull off something like this.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m sure you can find a better partner, Troy. There are girls that would kill to perform with you.” Or sprain a few ankles. 

“Kelsi wrote that song for us.” If he kept looking at you like that, you’d break completely. 

“I’m sorry Troy.” You shut the door and Taylor drove off. Gabriella put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t bear to look back. 

“It appears that I’ve lost three students.” Mrs. Darbus sighed, waiting for him back at the doors. “Care to explain?” Troy ran his fingers through his hair. 

“She’s not going to perform and I can’t do it without her.” He couldn’t imagine singing something so personal, so full of emotion, with anyone but the girl that he loved. Mr.s Darbus just gave him a knowing smile. 

“I suggest talking to her, Mr. Bolton. Show her the truth.” He opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. “You’ll know what to do.” Her expression changed. “Now, I'm afraid that there’s quite a mess in the hallway I must take care of. As well as a few girls to track down.” She bowed her head and went inside. 

Troy’s head was spinning. He needed to fix this. After a few ideas came to mind, he pulled out his phone. Mrs. Darbus was right. He knew what to do. Hopefully. 

-

A light knock on the door pulled you from your sanctuary of blankets. Your mom slowly opened your bedroom door with a small smile. When she heard what happened, she had no problem calling you out for the rest of the day. 

“Why don’t you come down for some dinner, sweetie?”

“I’m not really hungry.” You pulled a loose string from your quilt.

“I really think you should come downstairs.” Her smile grew suspiciously and she left the door open a crack.

Eventually, your curiosity got the better of you and you tossed your blankets aside. The lights in the kitchen were off and the doors to the patio were open. You stepped outside and gasped. The twinkling lights looked like stars and little notes hung from the trees. In the middle of it all stood Troy and a candle lit dinner, complete with a bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries. 

“Glad you could make it.” Troy beamed, motioning for you to sit down. You did and he passed you a basket of breadsticks. “Don’t worry, my mom helped me cook.”

“Troy, this is…” You couldn't even find the right words. You started to read some of the notes. Deserves a standing ovation. Her recital rocked the house. She’s the best friend I could ask for. 

“When I saw what those girls wrote, I wanted to show you what East High really thinks of you.” Troy explained, placing a hand on top of yours. “Sharpay even wrote one.” You both laughed when you read it. She’s one of the few people I can bare sharing the stage with. You blew out a breath. 

“The thing is, I can handle being called talentless and all of that.” You took the folded piece of paper out of your pocket. “This one just… I don’t know.” Troy gently took it from you , his hand tightening around your as he scanned those four awful words. At first, he didn’t get it. You had changed him in all the best possible ways. You made him want to be himself. You inspired him not to be scared of what everyone thought. So how could someone say you were just a charity case?

“You-” He took a deep breath, still wrapping his head around it. “You don’t actually believe this, do you?” You shrugged. 

“I mean… sometimes, I guess.” You tore off a piece of bread and rolled it between your fingers. “When it’s just the two of us, I feel like nothing else matters. But when I see you out there on the court, I can’t help but wonder… why me?”

Troy almost looked hurt. He started gathering little heart shaped pieces of paper from the tree and walked around the table. You stood as he put the notes in your hand, reading aloud as he handed each to you. 

“September 17th, 2006. The day that we met. When we got stuck painting sets, you were one of the only people to talk to me about something that wasn’t basketball. You made me feel like a regular guy.

“October 31, 2007. The night I convinced you to come with me to Chad’s Halloween party. I was a pirate and you were Elizabeth Bennet. That was the first time that you really opened up and were able to be yourself around people who weren’t just me and Gabriella.” His eyes locked with yours. “Look at the back of your necklace.”

You flipped the heart charm around and read the date engraved in the silver. 

“January 3rd, 2007.” You felt tears building. “My recietal.”

“Being on that stage with you made me see a whole different side of both of us. Our voices fit together like we weren’t meant to sing with anybody else.” He brushed a hair out of your face. “It was the moment that I realised I was in love with you.”

“I love you too, Troy.” You cried, closing the space between the two of you. He was right. It felt like you weren’t meant to kiss anyone else. When you pulled away, you were both grinning. “Do you think we can still perform? It’ll be difficult but I still want to sing.” He just grinned bigger and kissed your forehead. 

“Ryan and I already have a plan. You just have to come to rehearsal tomorrow morning.” You nodded and the two of you sat back down to finish dinner. 

-

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this nervous. You and Troy were learning and rehearsing with the system all day and the number would hopefully be unforgettable. But there was so much that could go wrong and you were absolutely terrified. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Sharpay appeared behind you. 

“You don’t have to worry about Madison. She has enough detention to keep her from anymore plotting. And I had no problem reminding her who was in charge of any and all sabotages.” She smirked, eyes scanning your outfit. “Good choice.” And that was probably the closest thing to approval from Sharpay Evans that you would ever get. 

Ryan came to make sure everything was secure and connected, reminding you when you needed to stand and be ready. He assured you everything would be fine. 

“Looks like you’re on.” He gave you an encouraging thumbs up. You took a deep breath and used your crutches to walk across the stage. The audience murmured as you sat on the swing that hung from the ceiling. The lights were bright enough that you couldn’t see Troy stage. You gripped the necklace around your neck for courage. There was no backing out now. 

“Take my hand. Take a breath. Hold me close and take one step.” As you sang, Troy slowly made his way onto the stage. His smile made your nerves disappear. “Keep your eyes locked on mine and let the music be your guide.” With every word, Troy walked closer to the swing. His eyes asked if you were ready. You gave him a small nod and he swept you up in his arms as you both sang the chorus. 

“It’s like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you.” The choreography was a stunning mix of lifts and spinning in Troy’s arms, your feet never even touching the floor. “It’s one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do.”

Troy lifted you up one more time and set you down gently before beginning the next verse. 

“Take my hand, I’ll take the lead. And every turn, will be safe with me.” He twirled you slightly and you fell back for him to catch you, kicking your leg out so your skirt flared. “Don’t be afraid, afraid to fall.” His strong arms wrapped around you and he swung you around. “You know I’ll catch you through it all.” He let go as you were pulled up into the air. The audience gasped. You had forgotten they were there. “And you can’t keep us apart.”

“Even a thousand miles can’t keep us apart.” He almost forgot the words as the light practically made your white dress glow against your skin. Your necklace sparkled. As cliche as it sounded, you looked like an angel. 

His wires lifted him up to meet you. 

“Cause my heart is where you are.” And so the floating waltz began. “It’s like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you. It’s on in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do.” You felt like you were dancing on clouds. Troy couldn’t stop beaming. 

“And with every step together, we just keep on getting better.”

For the bridge, the wires had you circling each other on opposite sides of the stage, slowly getting closer. 

“Oh, no mountain’s too high and no ocean’s too wide. Cause together or not, our dance won’t stop. Let it rain, let it pour, what we have is worth fighting for.” You finally came back together. “You know I believe that we were meant to be.” With Troy holding you, you leaned back into another tumbling spin in the air. 

The final chorus slowly brought you down to the floor, you sitting back down on the swing. 

“So can I have this dance?” Troy stood in front of you, bowing to kiss your hand as if he was really asking. 

“Can I have this dance?”

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto;

Order Up

Valentine’s Event: Day 3

Prompt: Mista + Restaurant 

Ao3 Link

Author’s Note: This one is still a Gender Neutral Reader, but I do use the term ‘waitress’ in reference to you. God, I love Mista. My friend, who I recently got into Jojo, just finished part 5, and I was reminded how much I love this goofball while watching it with her. Anyways, on with the show!

Something was up with Mista. The gang all noticed how he held himself differently, put more effort into his appearance, and they really noticed how much better he smelled. At first, Bruno and Abbachio would give each other confused glances when they saw his back straighten up when they entered Libeccio’s, or how he’d abruptly excuse himself from the table, red in the face, but the truth quickly became clear to them.

Whenever you would come by to take their order, Mista would freeze up and stumble over his words; the usually jokey, confident gunslinger reduced to a flustered mess at your presence. 

The older mafiosos thought it was kind of cute- he’d struggle to meet your eyes, but stare at you as you’d walk away. He was like a little lovesick puppy, hanging on your every word as if it were gospel. It was subtle enough that Fugo and Narancia didn’t catch on at first, but once they did, they teased him relentlessly.

“Mista,” Narancia nudged his friend with a sing-song voice as they approached their regular restaurant, “You think that cute waitress is gonna be working today?”

“Of course they are,” Fugo smirked, a rare show of his fun side, “-Take a whiff, he showered today!”

“Is that cologne?” Abbachio added from behind. Bruno just snickered to himself, unable to hide the little smile on his face. The whole situation was too entertaining to him.

“Damn, Mista’s got it bad!” Narancia chuckled, watching as Mista’s face went beet-red. He knew there was no use in hiding his crush from his teammates, they could all read him like a book. That was the curse of being in life-or-death situations with these men a few too many times over- they knew Mista and his little cues all too well. All the man could do was sit and take it, much to his displeasure.

“Okay, Okay,” Bruno interjected, making his way to the front of the group, “Knock it off, we’re here. Play nice with Mista, or else he might blow a gasket.”

Shuffling inside, the group made their way to their usual table in the back room where they conducted business. Some of the workers at Libeccio’s were a little afraid of them, off-put by the mafia conducting business in their place of work, but most of them were fine with it. It guaranteed their protection under Passione, and they didn’t come off as all that violent. Hell, Bruno had developed a reputation as one of their kindest, most patient customers, always leaving nice tips and keeping his rowdier guests in line. All the staff had to do was turn the other cheek when something shady was going on in their backroom; on Passione’s turf, that was the best way to save your skin.

Despite their good reputation, Bruno noticed how some of the newer employees seemed nervous when taking their order or bringing them to their table. So, a lot of the older staff dealt with them, the group having a few usual servers when they’d come to visit. However, it came as a surprise when you worked your way into that rotation. Seeing as you were brand new, it must have taken a lot of guts for you to deal with the mafiosos. You came off as confident, the new little waitress waltzing up to their table with no fear in your eyes. Is that what Mista saw in you?

Taking their seats, the group made casual conversation as they looked over the menu. They had eaten here numerous times before, so they already had an idea of what they all wanted- but hey, what’s the harm in branching out from time to time?

Suddenly, Mista’s back straightened to the telltale click-clack of your shoes entering the room, amused smirks painting the other men’s faces as you came in. 

“Hello everyone,” you smiled, “How are you all doing today?”

“We’re all doing well, thank you,” Bruno replied, shooting a sly glance Narancia’s way to quiet his incessant giggling. The boy quickly quieted down when he felt his leader kick him under the table.

“Good! What will we be having today?”

Every man gave their order, Mista averting his eyes as he did so. You were just too damn pretty, and he knew he’d stammer over his words if he looked you in the eye. 

You weren’t an idiot, noticing the man’s flustered expressions and how you caught his fleeting glances from time to time. Seeing as you were one of the group’s few servers, you got to overhear a few of their conversations from time to time. Mista- Guido, you think his first name was- was a funny guy, and his little offhand comments and weird conversation topics made you crack a smile and giggle to yourself on multiple occasions. Not to mention he was super cute, and the generous view of his abs gave you some nice eye-candy during a long shift. 

Some of the other staff would tease you about it, noticing your insistence to always ‘handle’ the mafioso’s table. You shoved it off, telling them that they were seeing things, but you could never ignore the blush that dusted your cheeks after those conversations. God, did you really have a crush on a mafia man? A handsome, funny, nice mafia man?

“Would you like the usual strawberry cake with that, Mr. Bucciarati?” you asked, finishing up their order. The man simply nodded, thanking you as you dismissed yourself. As you went away, however, you looked over your shoulder to see a certain sweater-clad mafioso staring at you. Locking eyes for just a moment, you both quickly turned away, tiny smiles on both of your faces.

You returned a little while after, wheeling their food in on a little cart. After serving each of the men their own individual plates, you present the cake to them, in all of it’s frosting-covered glory. 

“I sliced it into ten pieces, just how you like it,” you whispered to Mista before you excused yourself. The others looked at him, a little puzzled, as his face turned pink.

“What was that about?” Narancia playfully asked, “You two keeping secrets?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Mista smiled back, seeing you leave the room from the corner of his eye. What he didn’t see was how you stilled behind the room’s entrance, trying to listen in on what he’d say about you.

“Remember that one conversation we had, ‘bout two weeks ago? About the number four?”

They all nodded, knowing most conversations with Mista led to his disdain of the number.

“Well, they used to cut the cake into nine slices. After we’d each have one, there would be four left. I dunno if they overheard me or something, but they cut it into ten pieces now, so there will never be four.”

“Are you sure it’s not a new policy or something? It sounds like extra work to cut a circle into nine pieces.” Fugo interjected, adding a dose of reality to the situation. Mista grinned as he shook his head.

“No- it only happens when they’re our server. They slice it themself.”

“Wow,” Bruno couldn’t help but laugh, letting his softer side through once again, “That waitress sounds perfect for you, Mista. No wonder you get so red when they come by.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. I don’t have the balls to ask them out anyways,” Mista shrugged, starting to nibble at his food, “Have you seen ‘em? They’re way outta my league.”

Your heart swelled at the comment, blushing furiously as you finally went back to your job. Did that hot guy really think you were out of his league? Did he really find you so attractive that he couldn’t even look at you? As your mind raced with thoughts, you found yourself making a few more mistakes than usual- confusing tables, refilling cups with the wrong beverage, and many more tiny slip-ups. While your manager would chastise you for these mistakes later, you couldn’t help it- you were so flattered by the young man’s words.

After finishing their meal and conducting their business, Bruno waved you over for the bill. You quickly went about adding up their total, printing out a receipt before going to collect Bruno’s money.

However, as you found yourself walking back over to their table, a wave of bravery washed over you. Taking the pen in your apron pocket, you scribbled down a little note on the receipt, taking a deep breath before entering their back room. To Bruno’s surprise, you put the bill in front of Mista, giving him a little wink before you left.

Curiously, the gunslinger read the receipt. His face lit up when he discovered the message was for him- your phone number.

“Call me sometime, Mista!” you wrote under it, “Xoxo -(Y/n)”

Since he wasn’t going to ask you out, you decided to do so yourself.

valentine’s date with anakin AHHHHH okay okay hear me out. just staying in in your pajamas for a night and watching a bunch of really dumb rom coms. you get a bunch of chocolate boxes and throw the guide things out and start eating at random... hoping you don’t get one of the gross flavors and laughing at each other when you do 🥺🥺 then just cuddling idk man

i’m such a sap ugh i’m sorry xx

Hi Mel!!!!!!!! I hope you like this blurb and it’s okay, I wanted to make it fun and sweet for you 😌

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!!

My Masterlist

Join my taglist in my bio!

Cuddles and Chocolates

600 words

“Love, where did you say your grey shirt was?” Y/n called to her boyfriend, Anakin, who was sitting in the living room.

“Why do you need it?” Anakin shouted back. Y/n rolled her eyes, as if he didn’t already know. He probably just wanted to hear her say it again.

“Because your shirts are comfier than mine!” Y/n dug down to the bottom of his drawer set, pushing aside his undershirts, trying to find the one she favored, and there!

“Aha!” Y/n grinned yanking out her prize. It really was the softest shirt she had ever felt, and so she quickly pulled it over her head.

“Find it?” Anakin appeared in the doorway, leaning with his arms crossed. He looked her up and down and smirked.

“Oh stop, none of that. It’s not my fault you have the nicest shirts in the galaxy.” Y/n walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“The whole galaxy huh?” Anakin chuckled, setting his chin upon her head, “Are you ready to watch that holovid you picked?”

“Yes!” Y/n walked forward, still wrapped around him. Together they did a waddle back to the couch until the back of his knees hit the armrest. Anakin flopped down, pulling her on top of him.

“What’s it about again?” Anakin asked, mouth pressed to her hair, as he reached to grab the remote to turn on the projector.

“Some girl is in too many weddings, but never her own. It’s supposed to be funny.” Y/n lightly traced shapes into his chest.

“Oh wait! I forgot!” Anakin slid out from under her and leapt off the couch, sprinting into their bedroom. Y/n heard something fall, and then two seconds later her boyfriend reappeared with his hands behind his back.

“What have you got there?” She asked apprehensively.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.” Anakin grinned, pulling out a small bunch of flowers, and a chocolate heart box. Y/n smiled and made grabby hands, reaching for the objects. Anakin laughed and started to give them to her, only to pull them away and up above his head.

“How dare you!” Y/n laughed jumping up from the couch. She bounded over to him and proceeded to jump to try and reach the captive presents. Anakin laughed harder and moved around the room.

“You’ll have to try harder than that!” Anakin sing-songed. Y/n smirked, a thought forming in her mind.

“Ani, my love my life. Won’t you please give me the flowers and chocolates?” Y/n smiled sweetly, using puppy eyes. Anakin immediately slumped and handed them over, as he was a sucker for puppy eyes.

“I really love them” Y/n said sticking her nose in the flowers and sniffing gently. Anakin smiled tenderly, as Y/n looked up at him face full of flowers.

“C’mon, Flower, lets watch the holovid and eat the chocolates” Anakin herds Y/n to the couch, once again settling next to each other. Y/n was practically in his lap, she was so far over. They stayed there for hours, watching holovid after holovid. Anakin had the dumb idea to throw the chocolate box’s durasheet that explained what everything was away. It was okay though, because he was the one that ended up with the coconut flavored one, whilst Y/n got the caramel one. Anakin had pouted and said that she should have gotten a gross one too, but Y/n had just grinned and let him have half of her chocolate.

By the time the chronometer showed it was the middle of the night, they had fallen asleep on each other, the projector still giving off a soft glow.

Taglist:

@anakinswhore @gonnakickanakinskywalker @etherealsanakin @ani-skyvvalker @haydens-moles @anakinshmanikin @anakinsprincess @agent-catfish-kenobi @saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @chokemeanakin @beskar-tano

Heyy Sophie! Do you mind doing a fun lil drabble about sweet Riptide having an approximate knowledge on Valentine's customs from what he's heard from Swerves and asks out the reader anyways 😌💖 Thanks a lot! Hope you're doing well~~

Riptide X Reader – New to This

A/N – I had so much fun looking up all these Valentine’s traditions from around the world. Whales officially celebrates it the best, funky little weirdos. Hope you enjoy it Millie.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Riptide’s head swivelled from one bot to another, as he tried as hard as he could to keep up with the conversation. Various bots were in one of the rec-rooms, discussing the human holiday, Valentine’s Day, and it had sparked quite the argument. It seemed that everybody had their own version of the holiday, and nobody was willing to believe that they might be wrong.

Swerve slammed his fist onto the table, “We all know I’m the closest thing to an expert here. If I say it’s flowers and chocolates, it’s flowers and chocolates.”

Getaway rolled his eyes, “Big whoop, so you’ve seen a few TV shows that are super outdated. Not everything that happens on TV is real, Swerve. Besides, I happened to do a bit of searching, and you’re wrong. It’s all about some mushy card with a poem in it or something.”

“No, wait. That can’t be right,” Nautica interjected calmly. “Swerve was kind of right on the flowers, but it’s not a bouquet, it’s just one flower. I think it was called a Snowdrop and you press it flat or something.”

“TEN!” Ten roared, throwing a carved wooden spoon onto the table before everyone, as if proclaiming that was the right gift. As usual, everyone ignored his admission, unable to take the spoon seriously.

“No, no, no,” Rodimus huffed, shaking his helm exasperatedly. “It’s all about the music. Picture this, I’m standing on a huge amp, electric guitar in hand. I sing a rocking ballad, the guitar sets on fire, I’m playing it so fast and then (Y/N) swoons and I-”

“WHO THE FRAG SAID ANYTHING ABOUT (Y/N)?!” Whirl roared jealously, even though everyone knew that the entire conversation on Valentine’s day was a covert way of brainstorming ways of asking you out.

“COME OFF IT!” Rodimus said, his engines revving in frustration. “YOU ALL KNOW THIS STARTED COS I’M GOING TO ASK (Y/N) OUT TONIGHT.”

Rodimus made to get up, but Whirl stuck out his leg, making the Captain trip.

“That does it,” Rodimus growled, preparing to brawl with Whirl.

Riptide didn’t linger to see the end result, his mind already wandering as he meandered out into the hallway. He kept to himself whilst walking about the ship. Was that conversation really about asking you out? He’d thought it was about weird human stuff. Was everyone there to court you? If so, did Riptide have that same obligation?

He’d never really considered dating you before, but he was thinking about it now. He supposed it would be kind of nice to be with you. You were funny and cute, and you never belittled him when he didn’t understand something. Maybe Riptide wasn’t strong, fast, or smart like the other bots, but he did have a spark, and it always hummed faster when you were near.

“Maybe,” He whispered, talking to himself.

“Maybe what?”

Riptide turned around to find you, smiling sweetly at him. He opened his mouth, but paused to frown, having lost whatever train of thought he was travelling; it was something that happened often.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. It just looked like you were thinking hard about something and I thought you might like to bounce your ideas of someone.”

“Oh,” Riptide nodded agreeably, before frowning again.

“Something wrong?”

“I don’t have a wooden spoon,” He admitted sadly.

“Sorry, what?”

“A wooden spoon. I don’t have one. I don’t have a poem, or a guitar that sets on fire, or sweets, or crushed plants, and on top of all that, I don’t even have a wooden spoon.”

“O…Kay? And this is a problem for you?”

“Yes. I can’t be a Valentine without one of those things. You should really talk to Ten, he has a wooden spoon. It’s very nice.”

“Do you… Do you want me to get you a wooden spoon?” You asked, thinking that someone must have played another mean trick on Riptide to make him think about such things.

“No. I want to get you a wooden spoon, but I don’t have one. Me and the others were talking and that’s how to be a Valentine, I think… How can I be your Valentine, if I don’t even have a spoon?”

You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smirk, trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the scenario as everything fell into place.

“You ah, you don’t need any of that stuff,” You said, fighting a snicker.

“I don’t?”

“Nope. If you want to be my Valentine, all you have to do is ask, Riptide. And I would say yes.”

“You would?” Riptide’s frown turned into a hopeful grin.

“Yeah. I like you too.”

“Zowie,” Riptide exclaimed, having heard the word in an old Earth movie.

“Would you like to join me for a meal tonight at my place? We could make a night of it.”

Riptide nodded enthusiastically, “Sure would, Valentine. See you tonight.”

He ran off, hurrying to get his best energon for the evening; he was a Valentine, and it didn’t matter to you that he was new to it. This was going to be his best Valentine’s Day yet.

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A Feline Valentine (Che’NyaXReader; Stuffing)

HUZZAH! It took me writing well into the night last night, but I was able to complete my Valentine’s Day Special after all! Hope you all enjoy! :D

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Six o’ clock. Tea Time. You really wondered (with a sigh) how Riddle got along so well with your boyfriend at times like this. Granted, you loved the fluffy-eared gremlin to bits, but if there was one thing he never seemed to care about… …Well…actually…he cared about very little. It was probably part of why Riddle didn’t dislike him for going to Royal Sword instead of Night Raven; the Cheshire Cat was by no means a hero…but he was also by no means a villain. And he was certainly by no means punctual. You paced around the table you had set up in the Tea Garden of Heartslabyul. In the light of the golden afternoon, you paused to look around. You had to admit, you’d always found Heartslabyul to be one of the most beautiful dorms; if the historic Rose Garden owned by the Queen of Hearts was even half as beautiful as the one Riddle Rosehearts and his pack maintained, it still would have been perfectly enchanting. It was an unseasonably warm afternoon, but with a light breeze that whistled through and cooled it pleasantly to a perfect temperature. The heart-shaped topiary sculptures and vibrant red roses that poked from the great green hedge rows were the perfect natural decoration for a day like today…only helped by the special scarlet paper lanterns that had been strung up, in place of the usual blue and yellow. The paper was patterned with images of hearts. Similarly, instead of the black, red, and white bunting that was usually set out, you had purposefully selected pink and purple flag streamers, which lightly fluttered and flapped in the delicate wind. You frowned as you looked back to the table; you were actually starting to feel a little worried. You’d taken a lot of time to prepare this occasion. Riddle had even allowed you to make use of his personal table; he claimed it was due to Rule 214, but he never explained WHAT Rule 214 was, so you didn’t know why that was. You checked your cell phone to see the time; it was now a couple minutes past six, you still found no sign of hide nor hair from him. You bit your lip as you stuffed your phone back in your pocket; had something happened to him? Even on a day like today, when everyone was spending time with their special someone (presuming they had one), Night Raven had plenty of troublemakers out and about…and while your beau was no pushover, especially for the “pompous, pampered little princes” who stayed in the Dorms of Royal Sword Academy, you didn’t want to risk he’d run into beasts somewhat fiercer than himself. He only had eight lives left, after all. “Come on, kitten,” you mumbled to yourself, tapping your foot with impatient nervousness. “Where are you…?” “Twaaaas brillig, and the slithy Toves did gyre and gimble in the waaabe. All mimzyyyy were the Borogoves, and the Mome Raths outgraaabe!”

You knew that strange, up-and-down, melodic voice, naturally. You knew that song, too, and therefore knew who was singing it. You glanced about curiously, but you saw nothing; this wasn’t surprising, however. Your boyfriend from Night Raven’s rival college had a habit of being non-corporeal. “Che’Nya?” you called out, then smirked. “You might as well show yourself, that ‘ghostly singing’ thing isn’t as impressive as you think it is.” A pouting meow was heard, from seemingly everywhere at all. “I thought you liked my singing. In fact, I thought you said it was The Cat’s Meow!” You blinked dully. “Those puns are going to get you in trouble, you know that, don’t you?” you droned. “I suppose it ‘hiss’ possible.” “That one,” you snapped out, lifting a finger in emphasis. “That one was ‘Meowsy.’” “Awwww, my little bunny is making cat puns now, too!” crooned the voice of the Cheshire neko. “I’m so proud!” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I learned from the best,” you drawled, waving a hand dismissively. “Now come on out!” A pause. No response. “I’m waiting!” you called out, louder. Right on cue, you felt a tap on your right shoulder. You turned…and spotted nothing. Then came a tap on your left shoulder. You rolled your eyes, turned again…and once more spotted nothing. Then you started to turn around…and found yourself almost eyeball-to-eyeball with two large, glowing, golden eyes. “BOO!” “GYAH!” You yelped and jumped about six inches into the air, catching yourself on a nearby chair as you stared up at the disembodied head floating before you, a few feet above the surface of an empty table. The head giggled in a high-pitched, half-hysterical way; an unhinged but not necessarily dangerous sort of laugh, followed by a teasing grin filled with many large, sharp white teeth. “Gotcha! Nya!” sing-songed the fair-skinned face of your beau, his purple ears twitching where they sprouted from under his equally purple-haired head. A faint jingle came from the ears, courtesy of the little brass piercings shaped like signposts in each. You blinked…then frowned, blushing a bit at being caught off guard so easily. “Very funny,” you grumbled. “I thought it was!” chirruped the Cheshire Cat-Boy, his head spinning in place a full three-hundred-sixty degrees. You quivered. “How do you do that?” you muttered. “A good meow-gician never reveals his secrets!” “A GOOD magician,” you responded dryly, “Would be on time and not make such terrible jokes.” “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not one of those!” “…Yet you won’t reveal your secrets anyway.” “Nya-ope!” “…Your jokes just get worse from here, don’t they?” Your boyfriend giggled and rolled his eyes, then his head swooped forward. You went stiff as he sniffed at your hair, and his head began to orbit around your own. It was an unsettling feeling, and you squirmed a bit, blushing as he meowed and leaned close, the lone head nuzzling your cheek as you heard the big kitty purr. “Awww…no need to be so mean, my little bun-bun,” he crooned…then licked your cheek and rumbled as he added in a whisper: “It makes you taste less sweet, you know.” You blushed bright red, and he giggled more. “Awww, bunny-bun is so cuuute when they’re flustered!” he mewed, and once again came around to your front. “Don’t worry, my little rabbit! This big kitty won’t gobble you up! Today, anyway.” “That’s a shame…” “Hm? Nya? What was that?” “Nothing, nothing,” you said, shaking your head, then tilted it as you added: “Can you make your whole self visible? It’s…weird chatting with a talking head.” You had a feeling your significant other shrugged, but since you couldn’t see his shoulders at that point, you weren’t sure. In any event, slowly but surely, the physical body of Alchemi Alchemivich Pinka – alias, Che’Nya the Cheshire Cat – finally began to fade into view. He looked the same as he always did: dressed in a white dress shirt that was several sizes two big, under which he wore a pink-and-purple-striped t-shirt. A ring with the image of a smiling cat’s head was on one of his fingers, each of which ended in short-but-sharp claws, painted the same shade of purple as his hair. A matching purple belt held up the blue jeans he wore; it bore a silver buckle, and the words “Can You Stand on Your Head?” stitched into it with silver thread. All over the legs of his blue jeans were various colored patches, resembling mushrooms, trees, and Mome Raths – strange creatures that inhabited the realm of the Queen of Hearts. Purple boots with black laces were on his feet; they were decorated in gold chains with pendants that spelled the phrases “This Way” and “That Way.” Your boyfriend smiled and blinked his huge yellow eyes. His two canine teeth stuck out from his mouth, and with his large eyes and the way he cocked his head, you couldn’t help but smile; he really did look so much like a big, curious kitten, bushy purple-and-pink-striped tail swishing behind him and all. “Can I ask you a question, Bunny?” he mewed, as he hopped down and sat the wrong way on a chair. “Sure,” you nodded. “Oh, good!” grinned Che’Nya. A pause. “…So?” “So what?” “What was it?” “What was what?” “The question!” “What question?” “The one you just asked!” “I asked a question?” “Yes, you asked if you could ask a question!” “Well, then I already asked you a question, didn’t I? In fact, I think I just asked…” He tilted his head and counted on his fingers. “…Six! A half dozen questions! Now, isn’t that great? OOH! That one makes lucky number seven!” “But…that…that doesn’t…!” Che’Nya grinned and placed his head in his hands, his chin against the back of the chair, eyes half-lidded. Try me, bunny, his smile seemed to say. Go ahead. You blinked…then grumbled and reached out, booping him on the nose. Che’Nya’s smile fell. He blinked…then sneezed, and pouted as he covered his nose. “Heeeey, no booping!” he meowed, childishly. “Then stop talking in circles.” “I don’t talk in circles,” he smirked. “I talk in squares, triangles, occasionally hexagons, and even a few parallelograms, but NEVER circles!” “You’re impossible.” “Hardly,” Che’Nya chuckled. “I do believe in Six Impossible Things before breakfast each morning, though…then I usually go out and eat them.” He winked and licked his lips as he added: “For instance…Thing Number Five this morning was believing I had the best little human in the world as my S-O. Now, doesn’t that seem impossible?” You blinked. “…I can’t tell if that was a compliment or not.” “Then I have done my job,” Che’Nya said. So saying, the Cheshire Cat got up from the chair and hugged you close. You froze up, not expecting the sudden show of affection…but when he started nuzzling your neck and purring, you smiled and returned the hug. “You may be impossible…but you’re MY kind of impossible,” you whispered. “Awww…bunnyyyyy, you’ll make me blush,” mumbled Che’Nya. “Then I’ll have done MY job,” you teased. Che’Nya giggled. “Touche! Nya!” he sang out, then pulled back and grinned at you excitedly, tail twitching as he clapped his hands. “Oh! Oh! I almost forgot! I wanna show you a trick! Can I, can I? Huh?” You chuckled and smiled; his exuberance never ceased to make you grin almost as widely as he could. Almost. Aside from maybe the Leech Twins, no one could smile as wide as the Cheshire Cat…and certainly no one could do so and NOT make it absolutely mortifying to behold. “Sure,” you said, and sat down on a chair, figuring the big event could wait till after he’d gotten it out of his system. “Go ahead, kitty.” Che’Nya let out a “squee” of delight, then made a show of clearing his throat. He then adopted a dramatic pose and waggled his fingers as he tugged on his baggy white sleeves. “Nothing up my sleeves!” he declared…then reached out with one hand. “But something back here…” You smirked and rolled your eyes as he reached behind your ear; this was an old trick, you knew how it- “Boop!” You let out a mousey squeak as suddenly something bopped your nose…then blinked as you realized, instead of a coin, he had pulled what appeared to be a golden pocket watch, tied to a matching gold chain, and had gently tapped your nose with it. Che’Nya grinned as he then lowered the watch into your waiting hands. You blinked as you looked at the gold watch; the outside was etched with your name, and when you flipped it open, the ticking watch hands inside were designed to look like Che’Nya himself (as the minute hand), with you as the hour hand…chasing him with a newspaper. You blinked…then looked up. The catboy’s eyes were very wide, and he was fidgeting anxiously. “Nya? Do you like it?” he meowed, sounding more nervous than you felt he wanted to show. “I…I do! It’s…it’s lovely!” you chuckled, and chastised yourself for using a word like “lovely,” before going on: “How did you get it? Did you…make it?” “Nope. But I have a friend who actually makes clocks and watches. He’s a bunny – actual bunny, not just cute-bunny-like-human, the way you are.” He took a moment to smirk at your blush before going on. “He gave me a discount, so I asked him to make that for me, custom. Oh! And there’s more!” Che’Nya added, and reached into the pocket of his jeans, sticking out his tongue as he focused on trying to fish something out. It took him several tries; he pulled out a yo-yo, a bag of jelly beans, a teacup, and a kitchen sink (you were NOT going to ask), before finally finding what he was looking for. “Aha! Purr-fect!” he exclaimed, and smiled as he handed over a large paper card. It looked like an oversized Ace of Hearts. Curious, you took the card, and realized it opened up; a greeting card. You looked at the words written inside; they were written over an image of a huge, cat-toothed smile. You read them aloud. “Keep Smiling, Bunny. Happy Valentine’s Day.” You looked up; Che’Nya’s eyes were very, very wide again, once again looking anxious and eager. You smiled and stood on tip-toe, kissing him on the nose. He mewed and you chuckled. “Thanks, kitty. I appreciate it a lot.” “Hey, it’s Valentine’s Day,” Che’Nya smiled back, swishing his tail happily as his ears twitched again, once again making the piercings tingle like little bells. “I would be a pretty meow-sy boyfriend if I didn’t get you a gift and a card.” “Now you’re just stealing MY puns, that’s plagiarism.” “I think you mean…” Che’Nya paused…then blinked…and tilted his head. He mouthed a few silent nothings to himself…then shrugged. “Never mind. I can’t think of a pun with that. There’s glory for you!” You crinkled your nose, and remarked, “I don’t know what you mean by glory.” “Of course you don’t, till I tell you,” Che’Nya sniffed, and explained: “When I said ‘glory,’ I meant ‘there’s a tough puzzle for you.’” “…Um…glory doesn’t mean ‘a tough puzzle’ though.” “When I choose a word,” Che’Nya responded, sagely, “It means precisely what I choose it to mean. Neither more nor less.” “Yeah, but the question is whether or not you can make a word mean-” You were stopped by Che’Nya placing a finger on your lips. His smile was indulgent, as if he were talking to a child. “The question,” he said, gently, “Is which is to be the Master. That’s all.” You were much too puzzled to respond to that properly…so you instead reached out and gave the mischievous kitten a tickling poke in the tummy. Che’Nya mewed and giggled backing up and placing his hands on his belly to protect it. “H-Hey! No! No tickling!” he meowed, blushing a bit. You smirked triumphantly…but your triumph was short lived, as the moment was broken by a deep, gurgling rumble from the belly you had just poked. GRRROOORRRLLLLBG… “Oooh,” murmured Che’Nya, wincing a bit and giving a more strained sort of smile as he scratched the back of his head with one hand, the other clutching his belly more tightly. “H-Heh…I think you woke up my tummy. I, um…I might have skipped lunch today…” “Awww, poor kitty,” you cooed, teasingly, then grinned back. “Well, thankfully, I asked you over here because I have my own Valentine’s Day gift for you.” Che’Nya’s ears perked up and he smiled wider, yellow eyes brightening. “Nya? You did? How purr-fectly wonderful of you, bunny-bun!” he sang, clapping his hands together in joy, and looking around. “Where is it? What is it? Show me, show me!” A twinkle was in your eye that might have made the Cheshire Cat proud as you stepped aside and gestured to the long table under a tree in the Tea Garden. Che’Nya stepped forward to inspect the table…then stopped in place, eyes widening all the more at what he saw. You chuckled as you looked to the fruits of your labors: with help from Trey, you’d gotten quite the little feast prepared. Half of it was store bought, the other half homemade. Given the spirit of Valentine’s Day, it was a feast that was sugar saturated: the only things not involving a great deal of saccharine sweetness were a basket of chicken tenders from Che’Nya’s favorite restaurant, and a Salmon Filet that you had gotten from the Mostro Lounge. Of course, Che’Nya’s love of tuna was renowned (right on par with Grim’s taste for it), so you had to have tuna at the table…but in the spirit of the holiday, you’d taken a different route than usual. Trey and yourself had looked up a recipe for CANDIED tuna: strips of the fish cured with salt, pepper, and maple sugar. From that point on, everything was sugary: a box of gourmet chocolates and a vase of chocolate roses were obvious must-haves for a Valentine’s meal. Vanilla cupcakes with purple hearts made in icing were also prepared, set beside a box of marshmallow bluebirds. A carton of Neopolitan ice cream was on the opposite side of the cupcakes…and last, but certainly not least, the favorite food of EVERYONE in Heartslabyul, and second only to fish and poultry for Che’Nya’s tastes: strawberry tarts, crisply cooked, and so fresh they were still steaming. You looked back to Che’Nya; his expression reminded you of a meme of a kitten looking at Christmas Tree lights for the first time, and you couldn’t keep the soft “d’awww” that escaped from you. “Like what you see?” you checked. Che’Nya blinked…then looked back at you. “You do know all that sugar is going to go to my hips, right?” “You say that as if it would discourage me.” Che’Nya smirked, and this time HE tapped YOUR nose. “Naughty-naughty, funny bunny,” he sing-songed. You blushed and grumbled to yourself as you brushed his hand away. Che’Nya sniggered, then made a show of cracking his knuckles and neck as he strutted towards the table, big bushy tail whisking about behind him. “Well…you know what they say: time to take the tiger by the horns.” You started to agree…then paused when you actually digested (no pun intended) that saying. “Wait…that’s not-” “ITADAKIMASU!” meowed Che’Nya, as he hopped into his seat at the table…and without so much as another word, grabbed hold of the cupcakes and began to eat. Ten cupcakes had been placed upon a plate, organized into a heart shape. The Cheshire Neko snatched up one of them and, without even the slightest ado (nor any sense of decorum) stuffed the entire cupcake into his mouth. NOMPH! You watched, wide-eyed and very still, as Che’Nya’s cheeks bulged with the cupcake inside his mouth; his eyes closed as he chewed slowly – GRUM, GRUM, GRUM – tail swishing, the look on his face like that of a very happy kitten as he purred softly at the flavor…then – GRULPH! – swallowed the cupcake whole. He licked some crumbs off his cheeks…then, his jaws opened wide again – wider than many would think should be physically possible – fangs parting as he began to shovel the remaining nine cupcakes into his mouth at record-breaking speed. CHOMPH-NOMPH-GROMPH-HROMPH…! You slowly began to approach the table, watching with something approaching awe as the half-cat tore through the pastries like famine was fast approaching. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen your kitty eat so much and so fast, and you knew it was only the beginning…but that never made it any less phenomenal. Between himself and some in Savanaclaw, you wondered if it was just a cat thing to be a living bottomless pit…though while some in that dorm preferred tons and tons of meat, Che’Nya was more well-known for his sweet tooth, when it came to his appetite. The cupcakes had soon been guzzled; Che’Nya next turned his attention to the chocolate roses, there were three in the vase. He plucked one free, and began to untie the wrapping around the chocolate bulb in thin strips… “Hmmm…my bunny loves me…he hates me not…he loves me…he hates me not…” You smiled as you pulled up a seat beside him and kissed the hand holding the rose playfully. “Either one works,” you shrugged cheerily. Che’Nya let out a giggle, and finished unwrapping the rose…before popping the chocolate into his mouth. He smirked around his closed mouth, winked…and then – SCHLUPK! – pulled the rose free. Only the plastic stem, wrapped in green paper, came out…he had managed to ingest the entire piece of chocolate. Che’Nya rumbled and moaned around a closed mouth; you watched as his right cheek bulged, and then his left, as he swirled the chocolate around, letting it melt in his mouth for a few moments…then, he swallowed faintly – GLURK – and you watched as his throat rippled every so slightly, Adam’s Apple rising and falling subtly, as he let the melted chocolate trickle down his throat. “Mmmmm,” he murmured, as he plucked a second rose up. “Roses are red, violets are blue, chocolate is tasty…” He paused…then you let out an “eep!” of surprise as he leaned forward and licked the very tip of your nose. “…And so are yooouuu,” he sang, with a big, teasing smile. You blushed and half-heartedly swiped at his ears. He cackled and dodged, then chomped down on the second rose. You heard his teeth saw through the chocolate before he swallowed, then treated the third and final rose in much the same manner. This was evidently enough sweetness for the catboy, at least for the start, because the next item he selected was the salmon filet. As he pulled it closer, you reached to helpfully grab a couple of plastic utensils from a box you’d provided… …Then stopped short as the cat tilted his head back, and lifted the entire filet up over his head. His jaws fell wide open, tongue rolling out like a red carpet…before he dropped the pinkish-red fish meat in and slurped it up noisily before swallowing it all in one bite. SCHLUGULP! You watched, eyes tracing the bulge the salmon made in the Cheshire Cat’s throat as it slithered down his esophagus, before dropping past his chest, and vanishing into the belly behind his shirt. The shirt fit very loosely, so you couldn’t tell what it was like behind the garment…which only made you feel a bit disappointed… …No matter. Very soon, that would be changing. “Ahhhhh…tasty fishy!” chirruped Che’Nya, and blinked his big yellow eyes at you, one ear flicking as he asked: “Did you get anything to drink?” You nodded and held up a finger in a “one moment” gesture, before reaching under the table; you pulled out three large bottles, each containing three liters of cherry soda. Che’Nya clapped his knuckles together his grin widening and eyes all but sparkling at the sight. “Oh, YAY! My favorite flavor! Thank you, bunny-bun!” “Don’t mention it,” you chuckled, and cracked open the bottle for him. The playful feline made grabby-hands at you as you offered him the bottle, which he wasted no time in placing to his lips as he began to chug down the bubbling, fizzing, dark red liquid within. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… With every swallow Che’Nya took, his neck bobbed and pulsed, the super-sweet, tangy soda pop gushing down his gullet almost by the cup-full. You admitted it was slightly surprising that cherry was Che’Nya’s favorite soft drink; based on color, you would have presumed he’d prefer grape. But then again, the Cheshire Cat was nothing if not frequently surprising. As the soda sloshed down his throat, your eye fell towards the feline’s abdomen again; you could actually hear the fruity beverage dropping down, cascading like a waterfall into his burbling belly. Finally, you saw a sight that made your heart sing and brought pinkness to your cheeks once more: that baggy, ill-fitting white shirt began to became more taut and stretched around the middle of the Cheshire Cat’s lean, lithe midsection. It was finally starting to press out… …And it must have been by quite an amount, because as soon as he finished off the bottle, pulling it away with a somewhat dramatic “Pah!” and tossing it away (one of you would pick it up later; littering was against Rule Thirty-One), he grunted and reached down, adjusting his belt and loosening his waistband, sighing as his stomach no doubt sagged from the weight within… …If that knowledge didn’t make you blush enough, what happened next as the pressure was released slightly did. “BRRRRRUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRP!” the Cheshire catboy burped, surprisingly long and loud for such a slippery creature. He blinked, seemingly surprised at the volume and power of the eruption, one ear flicking…then laughed childishly. “Hoo hoo hoo! I think my tummy’s getting a little bit bubbly,” he cooed, then smirked at you and reached out, taking one of your wrists. “Hmmm…c’mere…feel.” Even if you had wanted to resist, the firm grasp on your wrist denied you that privilege. So, instead, you scooted closer…and blushed more than ever as Che’Nya managed to lift up the veritable blanket of his oversized white shirt…revealing to you the pale, silky skin of his normally concave belly, now swollen by a few solid inches till it looked like he had swallowed a small melon or some sort of ball. The Cheshire Cat meowed softly as he guided your hand to his belly…and then released your wrist as your fingertips, and then your palm, rested over the curve of his midsection. His belly was textured softer than velvet, warm as a heated pillow. When you pressed upon it, it gave ever so slightly under your pressure. Che’Nya hiccuped and then stifled another burp, catching it in his cheeks… “HIC-MMMRRRRRLLLLPH…phoosh.” …Before teasingly blowing the gas right in your face. You coughed and blushed, tears springing to your eyes as Che’Nya smirked lazily at you. “…C-Cat Breath,” you gasped out. “You know you love it,” cooed Che’Nya, licking his fangs and winking…then giggled as he lifted one arm. “Hey, check this out…” He waggled his fingers…and, before your very eyes, the hand that had been there wasn’t there any more. There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke; one second the hand was there, the next, it wasn’t. “Nothing up my sleeves again!” he sang out. You rolled your eyes…then yelped, momentarily allowing your hand to leave his belly (which you instantly regretted, perhaps more than you cared to admit aloud), as the hand reappeared, floating in mid-air, and holding the basket of chicken strips. You looked from the hand and the basket, and back up to Che’Nya…who, with his one remaining hand, gave you the biggest, widest “kitty eyes” he could…and then pointed into his mouth. “Feed me?” he meowed, innocently. …You couldn’t decide if that was cute, attractive, or both. You decided on both, and nodded with a wide smile, taking the basket from Che’Nya’s…disembodied…floating…hand (yeah, having the Cheshire Cat for a boyfriend was WEIRD sometimes), and placed it in your lap as you adjusted your chair. Che’Nya “recalled” his hand (it vanished from thin air and reappeared back in place at the end of his arm), and happily wiggled as he reclined slightly in the well-padded throne Riddle usually occupied. You dimly imagined Riddle complaining about cat shedding all over his cushions, and couldn’t help but snicker as you lifted one of the crispy, perfectly seasoned tenders from the basket. “Open wide,” you said. Che’Nya was only too happy to oblige, closing his eyes and letting his mouth fall open expectantly. You could have sworn a puff of steam came from his salivating jaws as he did so…you opted not to comment on it, for numerous reasons. You blushed as you had a very good look at the deep red, saliva-dripping interior of his maw, framed by pointed white fangs, including those two elongated canines that had a tendency to stick out in an (adorable) overbite…fangs that were primed to cut and rip into anything that got too close and tasted delicious… You quivered, suddenly imagining yourself being dangled over that wide maw like a mouse…and shook your head quickly to clear it before holding the chicken strip over his mouth. Your lips quirked as you saw his nose twitch in a decidedly catlike way, ears pricking up happily as he no doubt smelled the spices and seasonings used in the batter to bread the tenders. Without any further ceremony, you let the chicken tender drop…and Che’Nya quickly scarfed it up in three fast bites, like a cat snarfing down a very fat rodent. He rumbled pleasantly, sighing through his nose as he chewed, teeth piercing into the juicy white meat…before – GRULP! – swallowing it down in one bite. Your eyes followed the lump in Che’Nya’s throat as it vanished…and you let out a soft squeak as the cat let out a low, rumbling burp, once again right in your face. “Uuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrp…hoo-hoo, excuse me…more, please!” You didn’t have to be told twice. One by one, you fed the boy with the catlike ears all of the chicken tenders. There were eight in total; the first four, Che’Nya chewed up happily…but with the last rest, he didn’t seem to chew at all, wolfing them down (ironically for a big cat) and swallowing them whole. Hot, moist breath pelted your face, steadily smelling more and more strong as you added food to the organic cauldron deep within the catboy’s core. As you watched him scarf down the last chicken strip, and put away the empty basket, the purple-and-pink tail of the felid hybrid swirled out and swept up the heart-shaped box of gourmet chocolates you had chosen, and carefully desposited it into your hands. You smiled and opened the box. “Any you would like first?” you said, offering to show him the contents…but Che’Nya shook his head, looking quite excited. “Surprise me!” he meowed happily. You chuckled and looked into the box briefly, trying to decide…before plucking up the chocolate of choice: a simple mini-bar drizzled with a spiral of white chocolate. Che’Nya stuck out his tongue, and you blushed as you placed the chocolate onto the tongue directly…then yelped, barely having time to pull your fingers away before the tongue retracted and the sharp teeth snapped shut. Che’Nya chewed a few times and purred. “Mmmmm,” he murmured, and swallowed before commenting: “GULP…orange crème! Yummy! More, more!” You smiled wider, and, just as you had with the chicken strips, began to feed the big kitty one chocolate at a time. The orange crème was followed by one of raspberry crème, which was then followed up by caramel, then nougat, then a chocolate truffle… GLUPP-GLUPP-GLUPP… The purple-and-pink-haired catboy happily swallowed each chocolate, purring pleasantly as each morsel was placed inside his mouth and sent rolling down his neck and into his stomach, melting into cream and pooling in his tummy, which gurgled in a happy, high-pitched sort of way as the sugary, milky confections plopped half-solid into the pit. Every so often, his slippery, sloppy, somewhat sandpapery tongue would brush against your fingers, slurping over your hands…the first couple of times, this MIGHT have been accidental…but after the third slurp, you caught the hungry gleam in his golden eyes, and knew it wasn’t. There were two dozen chocolates in the box; two of each kind available. Ironically, the last chocolate you gave to Che’Nya turned out to be identical to the first: an orange crème-filled morsel drizzled with white chocolate in a spiral shape. You reached out to place it in his open maw… NOMPH! “YEH?!” You yelped in surprise and instinctively tried to pull back…and blushed when a playful growl and firm resistance met your efforts. You felt as if steam might be pouring from your cheeks, as Che’Nya had somehow managed to wrap his mouth around your entire hand. You felt his tongue slurp over your fingers as he suckled on you with a deep rumble; you barely even noticed the moment when the chocolate was flicked away and sent tumbling down his throat to join the rest in his guts. Finally, Che’Nya released you – after what was probably less than a minute, but felt like more than an hour – and you absent-mindedly wiped your hand clean with a napkin. Che’Nya licked and smacked his lips, before letting out a short, sharp sort of belch. “BRUPK! Mph…yum-meow!” he declared, snickering at his horrible pun. You blinked slowly. “…Are you referring to the chocolate, or me?” you asked, dryly. Che’Nya grinned and winked. “Yes.” God dang this teasing cat. You grumbled and tried to bap him on the nose…only to swat at thin air as his head disappeared from his shoulders. Just as you registered this anomaly, you nearly jumped a foot in the air as a loud, abrasive noise blasted like an airhorn in your ears from behind you. “BOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!” “GAH! D-Don’t…don’t DO that!” You panted, startled and blushing all at once. The belly of the headless body of Che’Nya bounced as his disembodied head spun around in mid-air, laughing good-naturedly. “Sorry, sorry!” he chuckled out, and winked teasingly. “No need to LOSE YOUR HEAD about things.” You grumbled and huffed, trying to show him you were ABSOLUTELY mad at him, yes, totally. He blinked, and meowed…then his floating head nuzzled your shoulder. To anyone else, this would have been surreal and disturbing. To you…at this point, it was just Sunday. “Will you feed me those bluebirds if I say I’m sorry?” he mewed, glancing towards the marshmallow birds and giving you his most innocent eyes. You blinked at him…then smiled, and scratched him behind his ears. He purred happily, a cheery smile on his face at the attention. “Sure,” you said, in a warm, simple voice. There was a pause. “Well?” “Nya?” Che’Nya murmured opening his eyes as his head pulled away and floated just out of reach. “Well what?” “Say you’re sorry!” “I already did!” he grinned happily. Your mouth opened and closed a few times…but you finally just gave up, throwing your hands up and half-sighing, half-chuckling before reaching for the marshmallow birds. Che’Nya smirked triumphantly, and his head flipped clear over yours before landing back in its proper place atop his neck, fingers drumming over his already bloated tummy, which inched out further and further… You opened the box of candy bluebirds; there were only a half dozen of them in total. Feeling rather playful yourself now, you mouthed the word “Catch” to your half-cat boyfriend, and lifted one of the marshmallow treats, preparing to throw it. Che’Nya nodded, catching onto what you were thinking instantly, and opened his mouth. You thus tossed the six birds – once again, one by one – into his mouth.

Che’Nya did not close his mouth nor swallow till all six of the marshmallow goodies were dropped into his craw…then, and only then, did he shut his jaws tight. He chewed three times, grinding away at the squishy, spongy stuff…and then swallowed it all in one go. GLULP! A thick, round, distention formed in Che’Nya’s neck. He grunted and thumped his chest as it passed behind his ribcage…then sighed and patted his belly, which let out a deep “glort” as the food was dropped into place. “Oof…nya…I think I need to wash that one down,” he mumbled, and grabbed hold of the second bottle of cherry soda himself. He cracked it open, paused to allow the pressurized air to settle…then unscrewed the cap and rapidly began to swill down all three liters. His Adam’s Apple bobbed and bounced as if suspended in tumultuous water… GLUG, GLUG, GLUG…! You listened to the sound of the soda pouring down into the Cheshire hybrid’s belly. GLORSH, GLORSH, GLORSH…your mind began to wander, conjuring up a mental picture of what it must have been like inside that swollen stomach, as it continued to expand, creaking against the waistband of the cat’s trousers, the pulled-up shirt draped over its upper curve. Dark…swampy…slimy…smelly…the walls ever moving, always working to stir up the contents of the beast-man’s bowels…you imagined being squeezed in-between them, the soda pouring down over your head as the stomach growled hungrily in your ears… …The rumbling belch from your boyfriend snapped you out of it. “GWWWUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRP! Ahhhh…you chose the BEST soda, bunny!” Alchemi smiled widely, tail flipping happily behind him as he grunted and once again adjusted his belt, groaning with relief as his gut was allowed more breathing room. “Ooof…I’m feeling kinda heavy now…mmmmrrrrroooowwwwl…” “I’m not surprised,” you mumbled, eying that engorged stomach, which was now bigger than a basketball, tightly compressed behind the waistband of the kitty-boy’s patched pants. Your fingers twitched and fidgeted, but you somehow restrained yourself, watching as Che’Nya rubbed over his belly himself, claws lightly brushing against his sensitive, supple skin… “Oooooh…soooo full already,” he half-moaned, half-purred. “I can feel it all getting sloshed and churned around in there…” He patted the side of his belly and hiccuped before sighing and going on. “HIC! Ohhhh…all that sugar’s making my tummy feel all hot and heavy, too…I might not have much money, but I’m gonna be a literal ‘fat cat’ when it’s all done, I know it…” “One can only hope.” “Nya?” “Nothing, nothing,” you said, shaking your head…then reached for the dish of candied tuna strips, holding it out with a hopeful smile. “Sure you don’t have room for more?” Che’Nya blinked; one of his ears flickered and he leaned close, innocently sniffing at the dish; his gut let out a powerful, NEEDY roar as the scent of maple and that wonderful fishy odor all cats seemed to like teased his tastebuds. He licked the very tips of his jagged teeth. “…Well…no, I don’t have any room,” he admitted. You turned your head down, a little disappointed…not only because you wanted to see your boyfriend even more stuffed than usual, but because you’d really been looking forward to him trying the tuna… …But your spirits were lifted when Che’Nya added, “But I think I can fit more in my belly. Always space for tasty fishies!” “But…you just said you don’t have any room.” “I don’t,” the Cat sniffed, somewhat snootily, and gestured about with his ring hand. “We are here in the great outdoors, and there are no rooms out here! MY room isn’t even at this CAMPUS, so therefore, I can’t have it. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t space…” He poked his belly with one finger; it wobbled. “…In. Here.” You squirmed a bit and let out a whimpery noise…which you immediately covered up with a cough. Che’Nya tilted his head, as if confused by your reaction…but you waved him off and simply offered the plate again. “Whatever…go ahead and dig in, you silly kitty.” “I can’t dig without a shovel; I’d get dirt under my claws!” pouted Che’Nya. You responded by giving his belly a light shove…which resulted in him grunting and burping crudely out the side of his mouth. “Mph…BWWWOOOORRRRRK! Heeey, not nice!” he huffed, brushing the burp aside. “Actually, that sounded VERY nice to me,” you muttered. Che’Nya’s face immediately became a smirk, and he playfully tousled your hair. You swatted at his hands with a half-hearted sneer, and he chuckled before finally beginning to eat the candied tuna, picking it up two strips at a time and dropping them into his wide open mouth. He growled, the caramelized coating on the fish creating a sweet-and-salty taste that ignited his tastebuds, making the feline’s golden eyes roll in his head as he crunched them up like pieces of bacon – MUNCH, MUNCH, MUNCH – before swallowing and chomping down on two more slices. There were eight pieces of candied tuna, just as there had been eight pieces of chicken. After four rounds, Che’Nya put the empty plate down on the table, and purred as he licked and sucked on the fingers of his other hand. “Mmmmm…sooooo tasty,” he crooned, and grinned widely at you. “One of the best things I’ve ever tasted! It’s purrrrrrr-fect! Can I have more of that? Pleeeaaase?” “Some other time,” you chuckled, smiling very wide at the exuberance of the kittenish imp, and pointed to the table. “There are still two more courses left.” Che’Nya nodded, and hummed thoughtfully, one hand scratching his chin, and the other scratching his “slorshing” belly as he tried to decide between the tarts and the carton of Neopolitan ice cream. “Hmmmm,” he murmured…then, seemingly out of nowhere, summoned a silver coin into his hand and looked to you. “Quick! Heads or tails?” “Uhhh…h-heads?” you exclaimed, taken off guard. Che’Nya flipped the coin and caught it again, checking it quickly. “Well?” He looked to you…smirked…and you blinked as his head AND his tail both disappeared. “That,” his disembodied voice answered, “Would be telling.” So saying, his tail suddenly reappeared, and tickled your nose. You sneezed and glared half-heartedly as his head returned with a laugh, and he reached for the ice cream, as well as a plastic spoon. He opened the carton, dropping the lid onto the table…then smirked at you as he scooped up a spoonful from the strawberry side of the carton. “Nya…THIS is ‘digging in,’ funny bunny,” he winked…and proceeded to shovel the ice cream at record-breaking speed into his mouth, arm practically a blur as he gobbled up the cool, creamy dessert dish… GLOMPH-GRULPH-NOMPH-MRULPH…! Globs of ice cream chased each other down the Cheshire Cat’s gullet as he guzzled it up as fast as he could; it was like his esophagus had become a cooled conveyor belt. Idly, you marveled at how he didn’t seem to get brain freeze from slurping it up so rapidly. Che’Nya alternated between the three flavors in a rhythmic pattern: strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, chocolate…he chowed down, lapping up the melted cream like a cat might lap up milk before continuing to virtually inhale the more solid stuff. He soon finished a quarter of the carton…then half…then two thirds… “Guh…oooof…fffaaahhhhaaaa…” Che’Nya panted, dropping the spoon into the empty carton, and then dropping that into the grass at his feet. He panted, clutching his belly with one hand as the ice cream sat heavily in his belly; his guts sounded like a processing vat at a factory, stirring and swirling the thick mush within, thickened by the sweet, cold cream he’d pumped down into the pit. “BLLLLUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUGLP!” he belted out, and sighed deeply. “Nyaaaaa…tummy’s sooooo – HIC-URP! – so gurgly…I feel – HIC! – so heavy…” You were red as a strawberry as you glanced between Che’Nya’s face and his belly. He seemed to know what you were thinking, as he looked to you with his widest, most innocent, most pleading “kitty eyes” and mewed sweetly. “Tummy rubs?” was all he said. That was all the invitation your twitching fingers needed, as you had to hold yourself back from lunging at his bloated gut. You reached towards his waistband; he rumbled curiously as you unfastened his belt, and then the button of his pants… ZZZRRRIIIP! BLORGSH! “NYYYYYYYYYYAAAAOOOOORRRRRRUUUUUUUUUEEEHHHUUURRRRRRRP! Ahhhhhh…sooooo GOOD…” Your eyes widened as Che’Nya’s belly poured out like a huge ball of dough into his lap, completely freed from restraints, surging forth from under the draped portion of his baggy white shirt. His navel was stretched into a tight ellipse, and you felt your heart pound faster in your chest as you looked upon the bloated mass of his middle. “…Eeee…eeeeeeeeeeeeee…” “Awwww…bunny liiiiikes?” Che’Nya breathed out, eyes half-lidded as he grinned at your expression and let out a giggle; his gut sloshed and jostled with his mirth. “C’mon, bunny-bunny…it’s nya-ot gonna rub itself…” Once again, you needed no further invitation. Your hands soon found their way to the warm, soft belly one of them had been pressed to earlier, and you began to tend to your boyfriend’s big, bulbous belly. Across the silken surface, your fingers caressed the softest, most tender portions of the belly of the beast-boy, and kneaded and massaged at the tenser areas. You let your hand wander to the side of the burgeoning belly, the size of a large medicine ball, and gave it a few hearty pats; each little slap made a satisfying thump, like smacking the sides of a ripened gourd. Che’Nya meowed and purred deeply; for several moments, he didn’t move or say a word, eyes closed as he just enjoyed the wonderful gut rubs you were giving him: a gift almost as good, if not better, than the bountiful, super-saccharine feast you had prepared. He lay limp and totally relaxed, crooning and meowing a few times as you scritched and scratched at the upper curve and the sides of his globular gut…being pampered was soooo good… …Then his nose twitched…and he opened one yellow eye. The glimmering golden iris smoldered like a dying candle as he eyed the last dish on the table. An arm draped over your shoulder, momentarily stopping you…and you watched as Che’Nya pointed with his other arm at the strawberry tarts. There were five of them arranged on the plate in a neat little array. He said nothing, but simply pointed into his open mouth, then poked his giant belly with one finger. You smiled, nodded, and paused to grab the plate. You placed it upon his gut…and with one hand gently rubbing back and forth over the center-part of his gastric globe, you used the other to feed him the tarts. The first tart was finished in just two bites…but after that, the cat ate more slowly. His teeth sank into the crispy, warm, buttery crust and pulled away the strawberry filling within with a growl as he chewed steadily before GULPing down huge mouthfuls…but the mouthfuls came with greater gaps between them. The feline breathed more heavily, even letting out little keening sounds as he went on: the second disappeared into his guts in another two bites, though more widely spaced out…but the third went down in three bites. The fourth went down in four…and, at last, the fifth and final tart was eaten in a number of bites that matched the pattern. Che’Nya licked his chops, lapping up some stray crumbs…then coughed and grimaced. “That…th-that last one was…a little dry,” he panted out, clearly finding it harder to breathe from the sheer weight in his bowels. You nodded and reached for the final bottle of soda, offering it to him. Che’Nya eyed it almost distrustfully, very much like a spoiled pet cat not sure what to make of a new brand of cat food…then shrugged and took the triple-liter, cracking it open and slugging it down as he had the two before. GLUG…GLUG…GLUG… The half-cat drank more slowly as he began to drain the final three-liter of strong-and-sweet cherry soda. You watched as it flooded down his gullet in waves. Unable to contain your flustered curiosity, you carefully lowered your head, and rested it upon the belly of the beast-man like it was your own pillow. The first thing that registered was the wonderful warmth of your kitty-cat’s body…then, you could hear the gurgles, louder than ever. The splashing noises as soda slushed down into bubbling mire, making it froth more than ever as the muscular contractions swished the fluid and sludge inside. You closed your eyes, and you could almost imagine those sounds surrounding you…the borborygmi a peculiar lullaby, making you feel as if you could melt away and forget your problems… …Not literally, of course. You were kinky, not suicidal. And besides, while Che’Nya may not have been the most heroic student of Royal Sword…the fact he chose that over Night Raven said something about his ethical viewpoints. With some, like Leona Kingscholar or Floyd Leech, you had no clue if their threats to devour and digest you were truly jokes or not. With Che’Nya, there was always that safety blanket: he really was just a big, fluffy kitten at heart. “Gruh!” grunted said fluffy kitten, as he polished off the last of the cherry soda…and you could actually hear the gases in his belly ROAR as it rumbled deeply before a HUGE eruption sounded off just above you. “BYYYUUUUUUUUHHHHHHUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLPK!” Che’Nya sighed deeply and let out a long, moaning meow before speaking: “That…was…a GOOD meal..mmmmmmmaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…” You smiled and gave his bloated tummy a chaste kiss. He mewled and wiggled a bit under you, gut sloshing and bobbling more as a result. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, kitty-cat,” you said, and nuzzled against his belly lovingly. “Mmmm…I think I’m enjoying my own way right now…heh heh…” Che’Nya gave a lazy, languid smirk…and rested a hand over your head. He didn’t press down, didn’t exert any force at all…he just let it rest there. That was fine. You were in no hurry to move your head away from his pillowy, plumpened gut. “So…how do you feel?” you asked, tracing circles around his belly button. “Satisied?” Che’Nya growled deeply; you swore you could hear his toes curl in his boots. “I feel – HUUUURRRRP! – ohhhhh…I feel like I ate away one of my eight remaining lives…” He slurped over his lips and added with a low, bubbling belch: “Worth it.” You chuckled and moved your hand down towards the underside of his gut; the softest, warmest, most sensitive part of his belly. He gasped sharply…then sighed, melting at your touch as you carefully moved your hand with a feather-light sensitivity over that region. “Nyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa…so THAT’S why you’re my favorite human,” he mumbled out, slurringly. You sniggered and gave the underside the very softest of pats, biting your lip and pressing into it slightly, just to feel how very, very warm and tender it was. “I try,” you said, simply, and paused before adding: “It helps that you’re my favorite kitty.” “Well, I’m clever and adorable, so I better be.” You smirked, and responded by giving his gut a shake and saying: “Well, you’re not very humble.” “BUUUUURRRRRRP! Ahhhh…humble is not in a cat’s vocabulary,” Che’Nya responded with a shrug. “Or have you ever known a cat that didn’t show some level of vanity?” You felt this could not easily be denied, so you just decided to stick your finger in his navel and move it around in there to distract him. Che’Nya’s eyes fluttered closed and his tongue flopped from his jaws. He panted heavily, tail flopping limp as he relaxed all the more. “Ooooooooh…bunny? Have I ever told you you’re the Cat’s Meow?” “On many occasions,” you answered, choosing not to remind him he’d used that joke already, too. “Mmmm…well…telling you one more time won’t hurt,” Che’Nya murmured with another shrug, twining his fingers in your hair. You rolled your eyes with a loving smile. There was a pause. “…Thank you.” “Nya? For…mph…for what, my bunny?” “The pocket watch. And…and for just being you. Every greedy, confusing, fun, silly, wonderful thing that is you. I…sometimes feel like, since we’re from different schools, so I can’t see you as often as I like, you may not realize how much I-” The hand in your hair gently lifted your head…and the other hand placed a finger on your lips. Che’Nya smiled with a half-lidded, affectionate light in his eyes. “I realize, bunny. I realize,” he said, simply. Those were all the words you needed, and you gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed and mewed before letting go of your hair and letting out a deep yawn. “Nya…I think I need a catnap…wake me up before it gets dark, so we can clean up. I don’t want Riddle to have a cow…or a horse…or any other farmyard animal. They’d make an awful mess…” You rolled your eyes, but said you would. “Rest easy, my kitty…and Happy Valentine’s Day.” Che’Nya smiled, but he didn’t say Happy Valentine’s Day back. His eyes had closed, and he had already fallen asleep…but the warmth in his smile, the way his arm tightened around you protectively and possessively, and the lustrous purr that thrummed through his core, said everything for him. You smiled just as warmly, then shook your head with amusement and closed your own eyes as you rested your head happily against his sugar-laden stomach once more. “Heh…asleep within seconds. I guess that’s a cat thing, too…”

 The End

More Than Date Night || Rick Flag (Valentine's Day One Shot)

TITLE: More Than Date Night (Valentine's Day One Shot) || Rick Flag

POINT OF VIEW: First Person

FANDOM: “Suicide Squad” Universe

CHARACTERS: Colonel Richard “Rick” Flag

PAIRING: OC Lorraine Tucker + Rick Flag

STORYLINE: When a strong connection actually involves true friendship, every moment feels like bliss, no matter what.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi! Here’s my belated Valentine’s Day gift to you. Happy reading!

Tagged: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @fairchildflag

______

February 14th, 2016

Lorraine Tucker

“You stole my heart from day one. I think you should go ahead and keep it for a lifetime.” - Unknown

“Holy shit!” Rick shook his head and I could only smirk while standing between this bowling lane and our cornered table. I’d just landed another strike and danced to myself, jokingly teasing him. Both music and slamming pins echoed around us.

“All right. Keep going.” I glanced over my shoulder and stepped back, watching as he settled down long enough to finally start playing again. On the other hand, different people who looked at us seemed quite humored by our actions tonight.

“Oh, it’s on now.” In one way or another, Rick pulled his arrogant card to dodge his earlier reaction. It then wasn’t long before I rolled my eyes before taking this swing of my drink, eyeing him over the fraying brim of his Task Force X cap, as usual.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Colonel.” I finished off my drink and crossed both arms, waiting for Rick to finally start rolling for another score.

I noticed him sporting his OKC Thunder hat backwards, which covered his crew cut. Tonight was one of the few occasions when he dressed in a casual manner. He didn’t always wear uniforms beyond work, but military shirts were more frequent.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Just seconds passed before my voice genuinely spoke up this time around.

Once his arm swung back and the ball rolled down, I had walked towards him from behind and angled this hat to watch him. As if fate knew what I had just told him, Rick earned his own strike moments later. Even people behind us cheered out loud.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Darlin’ but what the hell? Was that move rigged?” His slight twang questioned just before Rick turned around to face me.

“Who knows?” I winked towards him and shrugged before changing my sneakers for us to get out of here after the game. As Rick sat right back down across from me to wear his shoes again, we locked eyes.

“Lori…” His accent bridged between this sing-song tone and a warning sound before Rick stood back up, towering me after walking forward.

“What?” I laughed to myself. “It’s a coincidence.”

“Nothing.” Rick finally chuckled. “Let’s go eat for real this time.”

“Where?” I tilted my curls, intrigued.

“Only the best spot in town.” Rick kissed my cheek just as we gathered our things to leave.

____

“No! Did we come back here just to grab some orders for home?” I laughed through my words as soon as we parked in front of the diner, the one spot I still worked in after all these years.

“Very funny.” Rick cut off the engine and jogged around to open the passenger seat door for me. Earlier today, I’d ended that breakfast shift by the skin of teeth and barely rushed back home to shower before we headed to the bowling alley tonight.

“Thank you.” I said.

“You’re welcome.” Rick wouldn’t let me touch that front door handle as we headed into this diner, looping his arm around me almost immediately afterwards.

_____

Not long after we chose this booth and ordered our meals as expected, a few coworkers messed with me, soon amused over the irony of us sitting here together. I was in the middle of drinking lemonade when Rick looked towards me again.

“Hey.” His slight twang revealed another gentle whisper. He even reached out to hold my hands, smoothing calloused thumbs over my knuckles.

“Hey.” I repeated, smiling back towards my best friend. These past five years conjured all kinds of close calls and victories, but we were still here. Still together. Still in love, no matter the holiday.

Out of nowhere, he let go of my hand and slid away from the window-seat booth standing up nearby. Right now, his body language had left me puzzled.

“What’s up?” I narrowed both eyes, watching as Rick cleared his throat. I followed him to reach this tiled floor. All around us, customers started murmuring. Even a few “awws” muttered from patrons who perched on stools across from us.

“Baby?” He asked, looking towards me but not saying my name this time. For the first time in quite a while, Rick actually sounded timid around me.

“Yeah?” I answered gently, hoping that his own nerves weren’t immediately frazzled with so many people around us in here. Even as we our fingers interlocked, he kissed our joined hands. Those hazel eyes beamed with nothing short of gratitude.

“I know that we’ve been through a lot, but I really can’t imagine going forward without you anymore.” His words seemed quick, but I knew it wasn’t a lie. He never wanted to let me down.

“What?” I trailed off my question afterwards. At that moment, he unzipped one pocket of his windbreaker jacket and reached inward, using nimble fingers to hold this tiny velvet box.

Everything made sense now: the Bowling Alley marked a fun acknowledgement of Valentine’s Day, but our “visit” for dinner led to this moment. He planned it right under my nose. We met here and he wanted to start the rest of our lives by coming back here.

Meanwhile, before I could even watch this man kneel onto the tiled floor, everyone around here lost their minds while almost cheering like children. I shook my head over and over, waiting until customers settled down, but still kept looking at us.

“Lorraine Michelle Tucker, will you marry me?” Rick’s drawl came out in a way I'd never heard before, quickly reminding me of his father. At the center of that velvet box, the diamond ring could’ve blinded, peaked with an amethyst birthstone.

“Yes!” I covered my mouth, witnessing this moment through blurred vision as Richard slipped the engagement ring onto my finger. All around this diner, the crowd of customers only cheered louder than before, elated to stand here.

Ever since, Valentine’s Day has meant so much more to us now.