#valentines day fic

[amywritesthings]

chocolate-covered silver. / a levi ackerman valentine's ficlet.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Happy Valentine's Day readers. Why not celebrate with some Levi Ackerman smut? note: set in the universe of silver underground

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, levi's pov, explicit language, secret relationship, gifts, eating desserts, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), touch-starved idiots credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could kill Hange for this.

A nice gesture, they said — as if he doesn’t already wait on James hand and foot whenever the other Scouts aren’t looking.

She’ll love it, they promised — but not without adding a probably after the sourpuss scowl started forming on his face.

He’s been her close friend for over a decade. 

He’s been in her bed for a fraction of that.

So why does walking to her quarters with a tiny bouquet of hand-picked flowers and imported chocolate from Wall Sina feel like such a death march?

“I’m only trying to help you out,” Hange quipped last week, interrupting his perfectly-happy afternoon tea. “Is it not a day people celebrate in the Underground City?”

“We don’t celebrate stupid shit in the Underground,” Levi corrects, fingertips locked around the mouth of his cup. “And besides, it’s a married couple’s holiday.”

“Not always,” Hange argues, finger lifting in a contrarian manner. “People who date celebrate.”

“That’s not us.”

He’s not technically wrong.

You’re not dating, but he doesn’t know what the hell this is.

Hange’s smile only widens at that. “Friends celebrate, too.”

“Then where’s my flowers, shithead?” Levi retorts.

That earns a bark of a laugh from the Section Commander. “If you want me to go pick you some flowers to put in your stallion’s hair, Levi, make no mistake — I will run out there right now.”

“That’s a present for my horse, not for me.”

Hange waggles their brows, leaning over the table and ruining his peace. “Gives you ample opportunity to pick some flowers for our hardworking Lieutenant, too.”

He told them to go away.

Now, six days later, he’s here.

He’s showing up like a dumbass at her doorstep trying not to run the other way before you know. 

Are you going to think he’s an idiot for partaking in holidays that mean nothing to them?

The only gift he’d ever given you was that damned necklace you never take off. It was the only thing he could afford back then, down there, while they fought for their lives.

Although they may be still in the fight for their lives here, too, he can afford much, much more for you now.

He will buy you a thousand silver necklaces if you want them.

Clearing his throat, the Captain takes a moment to collect his resolve before tapping a knuckle against the wooden door frame.

You shuffle behind it. You must have been going over presentation plans Erwin sent over.

He debates on putting the flowers behind his back or—

“Levi?”

Shit.

Too late.

He stares at you when you open the door, blinking twice. You mirror the movements, blinking between the box and the bunch of flowers in either hand.

Mistake.

Mistake, mistake, mistake—

“Are those…?” you start, trying to hide your amusement.

Levi scowls and holds out the bouquet. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I was gonna say ‘handpicked’,” you reply with a snort, taking the flowers gently from his hand. Levi can feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he waits with a forced stoicism. “What’s the occasion?”

He stops breathing altogether when you lean down to smell the aroma of the bouquet. The way your face melts from stress to enjoy the moment, the scent, has him weak in the knees.

For someone that’s been labeled humanity’s strongest, you sure have a way of making his knees buckle from nothing.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day up here,” he carefully states, hating every syllable of it.

“Valentine’s Day?” you repeat, holding the flowers close to your chest. You step back, allowing him access to your quarters. Levi doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Some holiday where people celebrate—”

“—lovers?” you finish for him, and the captain feels like he’s trudged in quicksand. “I know. Hange mentioned it to me the other week.”

Fucking Hange.

“Funny that they did,” Levi grumbles, before turning on a heel. You close your door as he extends his arm with his second gift. “You’re supposed to spend the day with someone special to you. Someone — well, it can be a friend —”

“Oh, we’re friends?” you tease him as you take the box of chocolates.

You’re going to kill him.

“James.”

“What? It’s nice to reaffirm — oh, shit.”

He stops in his tracks, painfully aware that you’ve gasped. His eyes slide to the now-opened box full of exquisite chocolate, throat now tight with uncertainty.

Maybe you hate it.

He really shouldn’t have listened to Hange.

“This is real chocolate,” you whisper, and that uncertainty melts into something so very warm.

“As opposed to fake chocolate?” he asks to keep his wits about him. To see you scowl.

“You know what I mean, Ackerman,” you snip, and he fights every muscle in his face to keep a smile at bay. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

He steps confidently across the bedroom floor boards to pluck a piece of chocolate out of the box, holding it up towards your lips.

“Open.”

He knows that shift in your gaze when your eyes meet.

Yeah, Valentine’s Day is known for stuff like that, too.

(He can show you.)

Obediently you part your lips, widening your mouth so he can fit the chocolate right between your teeth. It catches, and you use your tongue to pull it into your mouth.

The pleasure is instantaneous. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the real-time image burning the back of his mind, and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Is it good?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“Better than good.” You hold out a piece for him. “Open.”

He hesitates when the little ball comes to his lips, but eventually he opens his mouth. You’re not wrong — it’s delicious. They don’t make anything like this underground. 

It’s a luxury, though he had intended only for you to enjoy them.

Of course you’d include him.

“See what I’m talking about?” you ask with an excitement that’s damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” Levi answers, knowing the indignance that’s bound to flutter over your face. He huffs a breathless laugh before swallowing the chocolate down. “Come here.”

Lifting one hand to your chin, he pulls you in with nonexistent resistance. Your lips brush against his, at first slow then sensual.

He wants to tell you.

(Your lips taste like chocolate, but you taste better.)

But he’d rather show you.

He glides forward, using the hand on your hip to steer.

You easily comply with his steps forward, guiding you back to your bed. His plan must be in the back of your mind as he kisses you like it’s his last, but he can feel it — the way your lips curve in that knowing smile.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, voice velvety with want. It drives him insane.

“Celebrating you,” Levi mumbles in return, pushing your body backwards.

You easily fall to the bed and he drops with you, knee to the mattress. Levi crawls down, down, to the edge of the mattress with his hands preoccupied with the zipper of your casual trousers. 

You don’t ask what he’s doing — all you do is giggle when he impatiently tugs the fabric down.

“As a lover or a friend?” you tease once your legs are freed.

Levi doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, anyway.

He wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he swats your legs wider. Your breath hitches from surprise — good, you’re too mouthy right now and he intends to remind you.

Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter.

It’s all synonymous to him.

You’re everything.

His past, his present —

And if he can bury his face into your pussy for the rest of his days, then it’s one hell of a future he can get behind.

The squeak of surprise rips from your lungs faster than you can stop the noise, and Levi is wholly satisfied by the sound. His tongue drags along your slit, coating his mouth with the taste of you mixed with the chocolate still lingering on his taste buds, and he groans.

This.

This is the only thing he needs for this dumb fucking holiday.

“Le—”

You can’t even finish his two-syllable name. You squirm, curse, arch, as he laps once, twice, before paying special attention to your clit.

Yeah, you won’t think straight now.

He knows you.

When his eyes flicker up from his work, he sees the way you struggle to watch him with that flushed face; how your chest heaves in that cotton shirt; how you want to encourage him, beg him, but your mind’s blank whenever his tongue swirls that precious clit of yours.

With his eyes, he says everything he needs to:

This is what I want. This is my gift from you.

Then he sucks lightly on your clit, rhythmic and calculated, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. 

Good. 

Fight to keep this a secret.

Because if it was his choice, he often thinks about ruining this — the image of a captain and a lieutenant, platonic and brave, like you’re not riding him in the middle of the night after a hard day of exploration and failures.

Like he’s not finger fucking you in the hallways as a reward after dealing with the higher ups in meetings upon meetings upon meetings.

Like you’re still two teenagers sneaking around, an underground flipped upside-down.

He hums and the vibrations make your legs shake. He has to keep from grinning, too focused on getting you to the edge by his mouth and his mouth alone.

You grow quiet when you’re almost there.

It’s been dead silent for several seconds.

He works overtime, arms locked around your hips to keep you in his orbit, as he licks and sucks and flicks his tongue side to side when—

That devastating sob.

The way your body arches like a woman possessed.

Thighs slam into his ears, making him feel dizzy, but he doesn’t stop.

Not until you whimper and tug and push at his hair to go away, and even then—

One last lick, for doing such a good job.

“You’re a menace,” you finally breathe, letting go of your mouth as your palm rests on your sweat-beaded forehead instead.

Levi lazily kisses down your inner thighs as you come back to planet Earth, proud of just how fast it took this time to get you there. He’s getting better at this, every single day.

Soon enough you won’t last a minute.

He’s determined for it.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sorry about it,” he murmurs, lips shiny and red from his efforts.

You laugh, and his heart swells.

“I think I like this holiday.”

Yeah.

Levi thinks he can get behind this holiday, too.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman smut #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #levi x you #levi x reader #levi smut #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fanfic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #valentines day fanfic #valentines day fic #vday fanfiction

[m0nsterqzzz]

Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue

pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader

summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?

a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?

is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.

With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination. 

There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.

It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand. 

This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.

The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.

“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.

Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.

The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.

Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.

So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.

They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.

“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.

Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.

Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.

“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.

She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”

Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”

“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”

She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”

You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.

“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.

“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.

“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.

“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.” 

“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.” 

“Always?” 

“And forever.”

There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.

“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.

You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.

All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.

“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”

You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.

He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.

The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!” 

She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.

“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.

“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.

“CLARISSE LA RUE!”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #fluff #valentines day #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #cats #don't call my bitch the lightning theif percy! #what was that ending? #11 days late lol #valentines gifts #valentines day fic

[sharksnshakes]

I Knew You Would - Leon Kennedy

Leon Kennedy, your coworker and friend, does not want to just be friends. Too bad he hasn't told you that.

AN; honestly this fits with any post-re2 leon era, but i had death island on the brain. horrible movie. one of my absolute favorites. happy late valentine's

Wordcount; 226

TW; um... use of 'pookie' ig 😭 its ironic guys i swear

Leon's never been one for sappy shit. He doesn't have it in him, not after... well, everything. A lifetime of zombies and paperwork will do that to you. Still, when you set down a teddy bear on his desk with the utmost authority, he finds himself more confused than annoyed.

"His name's Pookie," you say, gesturing to the lettering on the pink ribbon around the bear's neck.

"Good morning to you, too," Leon mutters, leaning back in his chair and looking up at you with furrowed brows.

"For Valentine's Day," you add, pushing the bear closer to Leon. "Since we were both working."

Never mind the fact that you're just friends and nothing more. Just friends, even if Leon's been wanting to be more than friends for a long while now. Not that he's told you.

You lean against his desk, casual, as if you're not on the clock right now. "Was gonna get one for Chris, but I didn't think he'd appreciate it the same way you would."

"You thought I'd appreciate this?" he asks, trying and failing to tamp down the amused grin tugging at his lips.

"Oh, I knew you would."

He huffs out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're too much."

You laugh as you walk away. "You love me, Kennedy."

If only you knew how right you were.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil death island #drabble #leon kennedy x yn #leon kennedy x you #bestie leon kennedy #valentines day fic #maybe a drabble series...?

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

༺═──────────────═༻

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale fluff #valentines day #valentines day fic

[f1nalboys]

Gotcha Something - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!GN!Reader

something short and sweet! happy valentines day guys! enjoy this thing ive been cooking up for a bit and failed at the execution <3

WORD COUNT: 1513

WARNINGS: nice gift gone sexual fr, bo is a perv but hes OUR perv, photos of reader in sexual situations, brief descriptions of wounds and past abuse from bo, stockholm syndrome is our readers defualt setting now, reader has the same scars as bo, bo calls reader his 'girl' but no genitals are mentioned. some nsfw photos and a hint of recorded sex but nothing actually graphic. slight somno mention in one photo. mostly proofread but hey im just a guy

“Happy Valentine's Day, darlin.” Bo places the package onto your lap, sinking down onto the couch beside you. You glance at him with a cocked eyebrow and he grins, something sinister hidden underneath the charming exterior. “What? You ain’t expect me to getcha something?” He asks, placing a large hand over his heart, tsking at you. “You’re my girl, remember?”

He purrs into your ear, the springs of the couch creaking with his shifting weight. He taps the package with his fingers and sits back, waiting. You pick the gift up carefully, letting out a hum at the weight of it. “You wrapped it in newspaper?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your voice, and he snorts, shrugging. “Did a pretty good job, honestly.”

He watches you with an amused expression as you carefully untape the package, pulling the leatherbound photo album out with an awe-filled gasp. “I do good?” He asks you smugly as you fawn over the barely-decorated cover, fingers brushing over the black sharpie. ‘You and I through pictures’ was written in his familiar scrawl, all capital. “Fixed up that old camera I had, been taking photos. Figured I should put it to use.”

“I love it already.” You say and you mean it, you do. You can’t quite remember the time before him, before Ambrose and the suffocating walls of the garage and his house. Leaning over and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you look back down at the photobook with a small smile. Flipping it open to the first page you gasp, the smile falling as you stare down at the first photo.

It was a polaroid of you. Taken from behind in the garage, you look at yourself looking at the wall of fan belts, one hand down by your thigh, the other reaching upwards to grab one of them. Whoever had taken this photo, Bo you assume, had been hiding from you, the camera taken at a lower angle, the corner of the counter in the bottom left of the frame. Your eyes drag down to the scrawled message just below the photo. 

“July 17 ‘20. First Time Meeting.” 

“You looked so fuckin’ sexy that day.” Bo whispers, his arm sliding across your shoulder to bring you a little closer to him. You keep looking at the photo. “Knew I had to have you. You remember that?”

You nod your head slightly. “Mostly. It’s hard to remember anything before the garage.” You admit, looking at him. His smile falters, his jaw setting, and you’re quick to continue talking, a flash of panic in your chest. “But I remember meeting you! Your smile, your charm, you know?” You say, forcing a smile, eyes searching his. “I thought you were so cute, I just needed your help to make a move, right?”

“That’s right.” He says, and your shoulders dip as you breathe out in relief. You look back at the photo album, letting your finger trail down your frame in the photo. “Glad you broke when you did,” he purrs into your ear, his hand on your upper arm squeezing tightly for a moment. “That way I got to keep ‘ya. Would’ve been such a waste otherwise.” You hum, agreeing with him. Of course you agreed. Before Bo, you had too many opinions, too many thoughts in your head. He helped you realize your place wasn’t out there in the world, dealing with the headaches of everyday bullshit, it wasn’t here by Bo’s side, helping him get through the day and letting him put up with you. “Keep goin’.” 

He sounds excited, leaning forwards to grab his pack of cigs and lighter from the coffee table, lighting one and taking a puff as he watches you flip to the next page. This photo is dated a day later, but the photo makes you wince. You were strapped to the chair in the garage, your face cut to hell, duct tape over your mouth, your eyes filled with tears and fear. You can barely make out the red and raw skin on your wrists and ankles due to the grain and you let out a shaky breath when Bo’s fingers lovingly run along your wrists, the warped skin warm to his touch. 

You glance up at him and see his eyes transfixed onto your wrists, a pleased smile on his lips. “You used to cry for so long,” He whispers, pressing his thumb against the scar, the cigarette dangling from his lip. “In the beginning. Used to piss me off, kinda like a dog whinin’.” He chuckles, finally letting go of your wrist. “Kinda turned me on, though. Hearin’ you beggin’ me to let you go, to undo your wrists…” 

“Yeah, I know it turned you on,” you say with a slight laugh, tapping the next photo, dated a month and a half later. “See? You even wrote ‘Our First Time’ on it.” This photo does bring a smile to your face. Your face is covered by your hands, dried blood on your wrists, your legs spread wide for him. Your shirt hung off your shoulders and if you think hard enough you can hear the sound of his knife cutting through the fabric. Bo’s jean clad legs could be seen in the bottom of the frame where he was positioned in between your legs. They were unbuttoned and showed off his freckled stomach and the thick line of hair that disappeared under his boxers. 

He had been surprisingly gentle that night, lighting the melted down candles and playing jazz on the stereo upstairs. Bo had laid you down on the dirty mattress, his eyes taking in every single inch of your body, his grip only tightening when you attempted to cover yourself. It had been the turning point for you in some strange way, seeing that side of him. It made you realize that he had been telling the truth; you did love him. 

“Still just as tight,” he says, his attempt at a compliment as he takes control of flipping through the album. Each photo causes you to blush harder, squirm in your seat. A photo of his cock inside you, bruise marks on your thighs. Another showed you on your stomach, wrists held back by his belt, hand prints on your ass. You strapped to the chair with a smile on your face and a fresh cut on your cheek. You looking up at the camera through your eyelashes and a pleading look. A photo of you sleeping and his cock pressed between your lips.

And those were just the photos where you were mostly aware of the camera. 

The end of the photo album had three photos to a page, a quickly scrawled date and word next to each one. The photo of you in the kitchen wearing Bo’s button up shirt at the stove was captioned ‘10/13/21. Cooking.’ The one of you asleep in Bo’s bed was captioned ‘11/08/21. Sleeping.’  You fixing up Bo’s mechanics uniform, 12/23/21. Sewing. You reading a book on the couch, 1/02/22. Relaxing. You with Vincent and Lester at the kitchen playing a boardgame surrounded with pizza and beer, 5/28/22. Game Night. You hunched over a cake with your tongue poking out and a piping bag in hand taken from the hallway, 9/18/22. My Birthday.

“You really took all these?” You ask, glancing at him. He seems a little bashful now, his cigarette smoked down to a stub for once. He shrugs, putting the cigarette out onto the ashtray and settling back against the couch. “I love it, Bo.” You say, your voice cracking slightly. “This was sweet.”

“Yeah, well… figured you deserved it.” He says with a roll of his eyes, eyeing you carefully. Sure, some of the photos were perverted, and it chronicled exactly what he put you through in the very beginning, but it showed that he had planned to keep you from the very beginning. You give him a quick kiss, deepening it by placing your hand on his chest. “Really loved it, huh?” Bo teases, kissing you back. He gives you a sideways smirk when you move to straddle him, his hands instantly resting on your hips.

You fiddle with the top button of his shirt, biting back your own pleased grin. “For your gift, I was thinking…” Bo cocks an eyebrow at you as you trail off before you lean in, whispering in his ear. “Maybe you can get that camcorder from Vinny and use it tonight? Whatever you want?”

“Whatever I want?” He asks, amused, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. His eyes are dark. “Guess I need to do sappy shit for ‘ya more often then if it gets ‘ya like this for me.” He grabs your hand, bringing your wrist to his lips quickly before he’s gently pushing you off of him. “Get on to the bedroom. Don’t think about takin’ those clothes off; I want the camera to see it all, darlin’.”

#f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys works #bo sinclair #house of wax #slashers #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #valentines day fic #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher x y/n #house of wax 2005

[gingernut1314]

Extra Special

A Songbird Story

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy wants to make this Valentine's Day special. Extra special for his extra special songbird.

Warnings: fluff, like the tiniest bit of angst, smut (p in v, biting)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Sooo....I got this out a bit later than I wanted (like an hour late) so it's no longer valentines day...but let's all pretend I got this out in time 😂

This is a part of the Songbird series, though not part of the main storyline (if you want to add this extra little story into the main storyline, it could be read between part 8 and part 9). I hope you all enjoy!!! 🩷🩷🩷

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“SHIT!” The screaming voice of Buggy and the sound of shattering glass jolted you from your sleep like some alarm clock you hadn’t asked for. You started up, ripping the blankets off your body as you fought against your sleep-blurred eyes to find your captain in the dim light of his room. Panic at the thought of something having happened to him struck you hard and fast.

“NO!” Buggy shouted at you, a detached hand flying your way and shoving up back down in bed with a bounce.

“Hey! Buggy, what the hell happened--” 

“Nothin’! Stay asleep!” Your concern turned to irritation as he continued to hold you down. 

“I’m not going to stay asleep you jackass!” You huffed, grabbing for his hand to hold it in a way so you could sit up once more. 

The door to Buggy’s chambers lay open, the light illuminating the hall filtering into his room and allowing you to see the predicament Buggy had gotten himself into. 

He skillfully held a tray of food in his last remaining hand while his sea-glass eyes looked downward mournfully at the shattered mug and spilled tea on his floor. It was your mug, one you had picked up on the last island the Big Top had landed on. 

“I-I’m--I broke your mug.” He said slowly, almost as if he was nervous about how you would react. 

“Were you bringing me breakfast in bed?” You asked, completely glazing over the subject of your broken mug. Buggy’s mouth fell open as his eyes glanced towards the tray he still balanced. 

“Uh--yeah.” You kissed the bit of exposed wrist of the detached hand still in your grip before letting it fly back to his body, a smile pulling to your lips. 

“Then what are you waiting for? Come here.” You said patting the empty space next to you. Buggy looked to the spill, then back to you, and then back to the spill once more. “It’s just a mug, baby. I can get a new one.” Those eyes found you once more, his mouth opening and closing like some fish out of water. You sighed, patting the bed a bit more aggressively. 

“We’ll clean up later. My stomach is eating itself I’m so hungry.” Buggy rolled his eyes at you dramatically, closing the door before starting for you.

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, don’t ya think, songbird?” You scoffed at him and his silly little grin which was growing wider and wider the closer he got to you.

“Dramatic? I’m dramatic? I’m not the one who was about to cry over--” A gloved hand came up to cover your face, shoving you not so gently back onto your pillow. 

“Scoot over, yeah?” The bed dipped as you swatted Buggy’s hand away from your face, shooting him a daggered glare that he merely winked back at. 

“Asshole.” You huffed, sitting back up as Buggy passed over you to his side of the bed.

“Yes, but you like this asshole.” A detached hand came around to bop you on the nose as he flopped down next to you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You huffed, watching as he extended the tray of breakfast foods out to you. 

“You’re favorites of course.” Your playful annoyance was quickly replaced with that giddy feeling in your chest you still weren’t used to feeling. A feeling that was warm and pressing dangerously against the seams of your heart at Buggy’s thoughtful kindness. You took the tray, placing it in your lap as you smiled gratefully up at your captain. 

“And--” He said, a detached hand flying into the bathroom only to come back out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. They were in the colors of yellow and white and sat in a red and white striped popcorn container. You realized the flowers were supposed to mimic the food typically within such a container. 

You’re mouth hung wide open as Buggy handed you the flowers, his grin turning all too goofy. A smile that was even more stunning than any flower you could ever receive.

“Thank you, baby. What did I do to deserve all this today?” You asked, bringing the flowers to your nose to smell their sweet scent. 

Shit--they even smelled like popcorn. How’d he do that?

“Cause today’s Valentine's Day, duh.” You blinked up at him. Blinked once, twice--

“Valentine’s Day? I don’t understand.” Buggy’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets in shock. 

“What? You don’t know what Valentine's Day is?” You shook your head and Buggy continued to gap at you. “It’s only one of the biggest holidays they celebrate in the East Blue.” You shrugged at him, leaning over to place the flowers on the nightstand next to you.

“I grew up under a rock, remember? My dad didn’t care about shit like holidays.” You said, looking over the assortment of food on the tray in your lap. You went for the fruit first, popping one in your mouth as Buggy gave a huff of annoyed air.

“The more I learn ‘bout your daddy the more I dislike him.” You shrugged, moving so you could hook your feet over Buggy’s lap, bringing the warmth of his body flush against yours. His hand was quick to find purchase on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as you raised a bit of fruit to his lips. 

“Tell me about it?” You asked, Buggy taking the fruit from your fingers. The brush of his painted lips made your skin tingle and burn and wish to feel over them. 

“Well--ya know. It's just a day you spend with the people you care about.” He said between chews. “Do nice things for ‘em. Treat ‘em extra special.” 

You tried to play it off cooly by taking a bite from some of the other foods on the tray, but you were anything but cool. Your heart was beating against your rips in a near-painful manner. That giddy feeling rolling around in your chest so fast it made your heart ache with its wildness.

He cared about you. He was telling with his words that he cared about you. 

“Oh? And--I’m getting treated extra special?” You asked, raising a fork full of food for Buggy to take. He did and gave your thigh another squeeze.

“No, I’m gonna treat Cabaji to a good time. I’m gonna go snuggle up in bed with him while I feed him breakfast.” You rolled your eyes at Buggy’s tease, taking another bite of your food. 

“But you’re not feeding me breakfast. I’m feeding you.” You said, bringing another fork full of food for him to eat. He took it with an audible chomping sound. 

“Hand over the fork then, smartass.” You smirked, keeping the fork far away from him.

“I thought you were supposed to be nice to me today.” Buggy was quick to snatch the fork from your hand, his other hand moving from your thigh to pinch at your side in a way that had you yelping and squirming to get away. The tray of food Buggy had so kindly brought to you almost found its way onto the floor to join your mug had Buggy not sent a detached booted foot to nudge it back into place.

“I am being nice. See how nice I’m being.” He insisted, skewering a piece of fruit onto the fork and choo-choo training it towards you. You mocked irritation once more at his antics but ate the fruit with a chuckle.

“I’ll forgive you if you say sorry.” You said after swallowing. Buggy gave a chuckle of his own as he grabbed your cheeks in a squishing hold, pulling you closer and closer until his lips crashed into yours.

His grip loosened, giving your lips the freedom to move in tandem with his. To taste the spices within your breakfast and the sweetness of the fruit. 

Buggy pulled away all too soon and you chased after his lips, needing that little buzz of happiness kissing him gave rise in you. 

“I’m sorry.” He said against your lips, which claimed yours once more. 

“Humm…I don’t know if I forgive you.” Buggy gave a rumbling growl that shook through your chest, burning at your skin.

“Oh yeah? Do I need to beg for your forgiveness?” You smirked, running your fingers over his exposed arm, feeling over the smooth skin and the course blue hair that lay there. 

“Begging is a very good start.” He gave that little whimper you loved oh so much to hear. One that had you grabbing him closer, the tray of food forgotten fully as he grabbed you right back.

And just as Buggy had opened his mouth to start to beg, sweet sounds your body begged itself to hear, a knock sounded at his door. One that had anger spiking in Buggy so sharp and fast he was ripping himself off of you and hurling himself from bed, leaving you a drunk kissed mess. 

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU IDIOTS?” Buggy shouted as you fought to calm yourself back down. 

As he screeched and howled at whoever had interrupted his alone time, you went about picking up the bits of food that had fallen in your hast to get your captain closer. 

You ate the rest of your breakfast as you pulled yourself from bed, yanking on a pair of Buggy’s pj bottoms which lay scattered over the floor as you went about tidying up the red sheets, as well as picking up the mess that was your shattered mug.

As you did this, you caught bits and pieces of Buggy’s conversation with, who after a quick peek through the crack in the door Buggy had left, found Mohji standing there looking very, very stressed. 

“There is a tax to dock, captain.” 

“Then don’t dock. Go around the island.” 

“We-we did sir. There are docks all around the island and the beaches are very populated--guards posted on each.” You threw the mug away as Buggy fumed at these words. 

“And the next nearest island?” 

“A day’s journey, captain.” Buggy cursed. And cursed and cursed some more. 

“Fine! Pay the godsdamned tax.” Mohji left with a quick yes, captain and an apology before his footsteps rushed off. Buggy came back in looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel. It was a look that only deepened when he found you were finishing up cleaning the spilled tea. “What are you--”

“You never pay a tax. We should just go to the next island.” Buggy huffed, slamming the door shut behind him.

“We can’t just “go to the next island” ‘cause today is Valentine's Day. Not tomorrow. And this island has the best beaches for miles.” You blinked at him slowly--beaches. You loved beaches. Loved the sun on your skin and the sand between your toes. It was a fact Buggy knew of you. A love he had learned of during both of your time on the Going Merry.

“Are you--are you taking me to the beach?” You asked calmly, trying to not get your hopes up. Buggy huffed away, trying to settle his raging emotions as he snagged a small, light blue bag from under his vanity. 

“Take a look.” He said, pulling a smile to his face that seemed to help him calm down greatly. 

Fake it until you make it was the philosophy you believed Buggy went with to get through life. It was a pretty good philosophy--one you might even pick up living by. 

You took the bag from Buggy’s hand, pulling the red tissue paper out to find a few pieces of folded, polyester outfits within. 

The first you pulled out was a pair of blue, yellow, and red diamond-patterned swim trunks. Trunks that were definitely meant for Buggy who was now genuinely grinning again as he watched you open the gift. 

The next thing you pulled out was a matching bikini. It was tasteful, but still cut in a fashion you knew Buggy was eager to see you in. In other words, small but covered the important bits pretty well. 

The suits were bright and flashy and so Buggy. You loved it. 

“Wha’d ya-” You didn’t let him finish his question before you were attacking him in a hug and in smacking kisses to both his cheeks. 

“I love it! Thank you, baby.” Buggy grabbed hold of your hips, finding your lips for a kiss. 

“How ‘bout you get ready and I’ll make sure everything’s in order with this shitty tax, hum?” You nodded, kissing him again quickly before rushing off to the bathroom. 

The beach was crowded, just as you had heard Mohji tell Buggy, but you and your captain found a space a little ways away from everyone. And, as an added bonus, it was far enough away from the water that Buggy’s nerves were put at ease. 

You dug your toes into the sand as you watched Buggy set up camp, pulling beach chairs open and laying a blanket down before your chairs. He placed a picnic basket down on top of it, one he had surprised you with on the way here. Buggy even put up an umbrella, though that was mainly for him. 

And he did this all in just his flashy swim trunks. 

The sun was no help in the growing heat in your body. 

No help as you watched the muscles throughout his arms and legs work. No help as you watched his blue hair, which he had put up in a flowy ponytail, fall over his shoulders, leading the eyes to his chest. A chest covered in a dusting of blue hair that you had run your fingers through many, many times before and wished to do now. 

It had you almost wishing to take Buggy by the hand and drag him all the way back to the Big Top just so you could see those muscles work to pull those swim trunks off. So you could see the delicate skin that lay hidden beneath and run your tongue--

“Tah dah!” Buggy exclaimed, a pound smile on his face as he gestured towards the set up. 

“Good job, baby.” You praised, swallowing down the sudden dryness in your mouth. Buggy beamed like one of the rays of sunlight shining down on you two under your praise. 

“You gonna take that cover off? Let me see how good you look in that bikini?” You nodded, placing your beach bag into one of the chairs before yanking your cover-up--which was just one of Buggy’s old t-shirts--over your head. 

Buggy gave a low curse as you showed off your new swimsuit--you moving your body in a way that put it on full display for him.

“You like?” You asked as you watched Buggy’s tongue shoot out to wet his lips.

“Do a little twirl for me.” You did so without question, moving your hips in a sultry rotation that earned you a low groan from your captain. “Shit, songbird--maybe we should call it quits? Head back to the ship.” You smirked as you faced him once more.

“Humm we could…but no. I want to get some sun.” You said, the clown all but whining in displeasure. “You were the one who chose this bikini. You only have yourself to blame.” Buggy dramatically pouted. 

“Let me at least put lotion on ya. Don’t want you to burn.” You shrugged dismissively.

“I don’t burn.” Buggy’s hands flexed at your continued denial to let him touch you. 

“I do.” You scanned over his body slowly, making the clown all but squirm under your gaze. 

“Would you like me to put lotion on you?” He nodded frantically, sending a detached hand for the lotion in your bag. He all but shoved it in your hands before sitting down on the blanket before you. 

You knelt down behind him, putting a dollop of lotion on your hand. You moved his hair over his shoulder before beginning to rub the lotion in, your captain humming and leaning back to be closer to your touch. 

You took your time rubbing it into his skin, tracing shapes into his skin, and digging your fingers into the tenser bits of muscle you came across. The whole time Buggy was a huming, groaning mess and it was making your body utterly ache to have him hum and groan in other such pleasurable ways. 

Once every last bit of skin was covered, you moved around to sit before him, his eyes dazed and struggling to focus. Eyes that scanned over your body, which he began to reach for. 

“Uh-ah. No touching.” Buggy huffed, those green-blue eyes snapping to look into your own. 

“Why not?”

“Because I only get to touch.” This earned you another, rumbling groan, and those eyes lulling closed. You watched him shift, his trunks seeming to grow just a bit tighter around his crotch. You smirked at his flushed state. 

“Let’s go back to the ship.” He asked on a whisper, as if your answer might change. You put another dollop of lotion onto your hand and began to rub it into his shoulder, chest, and abdomen. 

“Later, baby. You went through all the trouble to get these swimsuits, make us lunch, and pay that tax.” You said, his sea-glass eyes opening to watch you near mournfully. With a chuckle, you leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his painted lips. A kiss he savored and whined when it ended. “Thank you. You’ve made me feel extra special today.” 

A small smile pulled to Buggy’s lips, that warm emotion flashing through his eyes. A look you thrived under whenever he graced you with it. 

“Of course, songbird. Speakin’ of extra special, I have another gift for ya.” He said, sending both of his chopped hands towards the basket. 

“Another one? Buggy, baby, that’s too much--” Buggy shushed you with a quick kiss. He pulled away as his hands reattached to his body, the box he had grabbed thrust into your hands. 

“Nothin’s too much for my songbird. Now open it.” He said excitedly. You sighed, your own excitement dancing around in your chest. 

You tugged at the box’s flaps, freeing them from the colorful tape holding them closed. A small gasp left you as you pulled one of the gifts out. 

It was a notebook. A beautifully elegant notebook that, in looping letters, said Songbird’s Songbook #1. 

And there were more notebooks within the box. Books of different colors and designs but had the same title drawn on the cover. Each was labeled with a number as well. 

You felt your eyes prick and you fought to keep from making a fool of yourself in front of Buggy. 

“I-Buggy…” You said in a small voice, looking back towards the man you cared for so, so much. A man who had changed your life for the better--who had pulled you from such a dark, dark place.

Guilt panged in your chest. A guilt that rose your anxiety and had you tapping your fingers against the hardcover of the songbook.

“I didn’t get you anything. You should have told me you were doing all this. How--this is--baby, I want to get you something too. Something as thoughtful and beautiful as this. I--” Buggy cut you off with a soft, comforting cradle of your face between his ungloved hands.

“Baby, you’re gift enough for me.” You huffed, feeling those tears begin to pool in your eyes. “I don’t need anything but you. Don’t worry. Please don’t worry.” But you couldn’t not worry. Because you were worried every day that you wouldn’t be good enough. That he would find some reason to toss you away--to abandon you.

“Hey--if you really want to give me something, you could sing for me.” You blinked a few times to clear the tears stinging your eyes on a nod. “Ya? Okay--hey, stop that.” He chuckled, running his thumb under your eye to try and comfort you further. “A song and your company would be a perfect gift.” You nodded again, clearing your throat from its tightness. 

“What--what would you like me to sing?” You asked, leaning your cheek further into his palm. 

“How ‘bout that song you’ve been workin’ on?” 

“It’s not finished.” He nodded, his smile pulling wider.

“I know. But it’s still my favorite.” You smiled, that giddy, warm feeling filling your chest like a flash of lightning. With a quick kiss to his lips, you two laid out on the blanket, facing one another as you began to sing your song softly. 

Buggy watched you like you were the most interesting thing in the whole world. Watched you with that warm look in his eyes and an easy smile on his lips. His hand found its way to feel over your side, running his fingers up and down your skin. 

You sang your song of lonely and restless need. Of freedom and the sea and of a feeling for someone so strong it could drive them mad. 

When you finished your unfinished song, which you had added just that much more to since the last time you had sung it to him, Buggy pulled you in for another soft, lingering kiss that had your heart soar like some dove. 

You almost grabbed him back into you when he pulled away but thought better of it--there would be plenty of time to hold and caress each other after this little beach trip. 

Buggy went about presenting you with lunch then in a flashy manner. The lunch was simple but perfectly catered for a beach day. 

After lunch, you two sat in your beach chairs. You soaking up the sun and Buggy sitting in the shade of his umbrella, hand in hand. 

Once you had had your fill of sun and sand and the sound of crashing waves, you helped Buggy pack everything up before heading for the Big Top. 

The ship was as quiet as the grave, the rest of the crew out enjoying the beautiful day and exploring the island you had paid to stay on. 

“I don’t get mad,” Buggy started, pulling you towards the circus tent that stood proudly close to the bow of the ship. “But I might have one more gift for ya.” You smiled and squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“Then I owe you one more song.” Buggy squeezed your hand right back with a nod. 

“I would love that, songbird.” He led you to the entrance, placing all of your beach gear on the deck before turning you around and covering your eyes with his hands. “No peaking.” He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You held onto his hands as he led you into the circus tent, your steps a little stiff from your momentary blindness. Buggy positioned you and turned you just a little bit this way and that before you felt his breath on your ear again.

“Okay…ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” Buggy chuckled before removing his hands from your eyes. 

You gasped at the sight before you. A wonderful scene, one with a candlelit dinner table, a meal still steaming and ready to eat. You gathered it must have just been laid out, meaning one of your crewmates was making a mad dash for the exit. 

Flowers covered the surrounding area, filling the space with their forally sweet smells. Music played softly in the background as well. Songs from your favorite artists and inspiration since childhood. 

But on top of the dinner and the candles and the music, sitting in the middle of the circus ring was a shining, sleek piano. Another one of those songbooks lay on the music stand, a single rose pressed between its pages.

“I’ll have it moved to one of the backrooms so you can have a little more privacy to practice and create your music. I know you’ve been needing a piano so--” You snapped around and attacked Buggy in a tearful kiss before he could finish. 

Your captain was quick to wrap you up in his arms, pulling you flush against his warm body. Your lips moved in perfect synchrony. In a sweet, tearful kiss that gradually grew more needy. More wanting and fiery. 

You pulled away, littering kisses over his cheeks and jaw and neck, your hands sliding their way downward. Fingers pulled at his bright swim trunks and you were just about to follow your hands downward when Buggy stopped your descent. You whined but it was silenced by his burning kiss. 

“Nah-uh. Want to make you feel good.” 

“But--” A voice stealing kiss found you again, Buggy’s body moving you backward until you ran into the piano he had just gifted you. 

His feeling hands found the strings to your bikini and loosened the top so that the triangle-shaped fabric fell away from your breasts, hanging loosely around your waist. Those stunning eyes of his darkened in lust at the sight of you, his tongue coming out to wet his lips in something akin to hunger. 

Your fingers were gripping the back of his neck and guiding him towards your pebbled nipples, Buggy readily following your lead. His teeth grazed over the sensitive heft of your left breast, making a low moan pour from your chest. A low thing that turned mewling when his lips encased your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over its peek. 

You held him closer, your body giving out onto the keys of the piano, making the instrument give a screeching ring that echoed throughout the circus tent. 

Buggy’s strong arms grabbed you around your thighs and shoved you up onto those keys, abusing the poor, elegant instrument once more with your weight. 

You would have been worried about breaking such a beautiful gift had a pleasure-filled fog not begun to roll through your mind, blocking out any sense or reason. 

He removed his mouth with a pop from your breast only to latch it around your untouched and lonely left breast. Your fingers scraped over the back of his neck, pulling low moans of his own from his throat, the vibrations of it buzzing at your body and adding to the growing wetness between your legs. 

Buggy’s hands grabbed for the bottom of your bikini, yanking them off with help from his chop-chop abilities to fully do so without pulling away from you.

He switched breasts again, biting lightly at your flesh and making you squirm in his hold at the flashes of pleasure that pulsed through you.

You spread your legs further, giving Buggy full access to your weeping pussy. It wanted his touch--needed it and you were beginning to grow desperate. 

A chopped hand crawled its way down your stomach, finding its home on top of the mound of your pelvis. 

“I should make you beg for it, ya know.” He murmured around your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple and pulling a needy little whine from you. “For teasing me at the beach.”

“Y-your fault. You--” You sucked in a shuttering breath as he dipped a finger into your dripping folds. A finger that rounded your cilt but never once dared to touch it, sending you just enough pleasure but never enough to scratch the deep itch that had been building within your body all day. “You bought the damn bathing suit.” 

Buggy chuckled, pulling away from your nipple to lick a wet trail up the valley of your breasts, sinking his teeth into your neck. A pinch of pain that only melded and mixed with that dulled buzz he had lifting in you. 

“I wanted to match. So fuckin’ sexy.” And his finger finally moved to land on your clit,  rubbing circles into it and sending your body radiating in ecstasy. 

“Oh--oh gods--yes--thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rambled into his hair, holding his face that much closer to your neck, which he continued to bite and suck a deep bruise into. “I-I love this fucking suit--oh my gods!” 

Your hips began to move on their own accord, rocking against his finger and his cock, which had tented his trunks in his own arousal. 

More, more, more. 

You need more of him. All of him. 

With these foggy thoughts in mind, you reached your hand down to tug his suit as low as you could. It was an action that only exposed more of that happy blue trail which led to your real goal, still hidden breath those bright trunks.

“C-Captain--Captian, please, please, please! I-I need you in me please!” You begged, continuing to pull at the band of his trunks to spur him on.

“F-Fuck--yeah, baby. Anythin’ ya need.” He grit out pulling away just enough to shove his swimsuit down, letting his cock spring free from its restraint. He hissed at the sudden exposure to the chiller air, his tip already leaking milky pearls of precome. 

You grabbed for him, running your thumb over his slit and spreading it around the mushroomed head of him. Your mouth fell open on a needy pant as he thrust mindlessly into her hand, bringing his cock that much closer to your sobbing pussy. 

Digging the heels of your feet into that perk little ass of his, you dragged him closer and closer until he was pressed oh so nicely against your entrance. 

It took only took one thrust and your guiding hand to have him sinking inch by glorious inch into your aching pussy. Your walls flexed and relaxed around him, sucking him deeper and deeper into you. 

“Oh fuck.” Buggy cursed in your ear as he bottomed out, his last unchopped hand coming up to grab a fistful of your breast. You nibbled at that pierced ear, humming your growing satisfaction for him. 

“M-move, baby. S-so good for me.” You breathed, raking your fingernails up and down his back, sending shivers through your captain’s body. 

“Yes--fuck, yes, songbird.” He said on a whimper, his hips pulling him all the way out all the way to his reddened tip, only to sharply thrust back into you. You gave a deep moan of his name, hanging onto him for deep life.

Each thrust sent low humming through your body. Humming that grew louder and louder and louder until it was all you could hear. 

Each bite and suck at your neck spread sparks along your skin like the start of some wildfire. 

Each circle and flick of your cilt ignited and deepened that built within the depths of your abdomen. 

Buggy chuckled against your skin, his thrusts never once faltering in their steady, pleasure-pulling pace. 

“Wh-what?” You panted, grabbing hold of his chin to look into those sea-glass eyes. Eyes a swirl of blown-out lust and mirth. 

“J-just--heh--this wasn’t what I had in mind when I said--m-makin’ music.” He huffingly laughed, a rather brutal thrust pulling a deep moan from your chest. A thrust that pushed your body harder into the keys beneath you, the piano letting out a horrid sound at the sudden movement. 

“I-It’ll be inspiration.” You wavered, moving his lips against yours in a sloppy dance of tongues and spit.

That deep build rolled around within you. Rolled and spurred your hips to move that much faster against Buggy’s. The added pressure of his pelvic bone slamming against his finger, which pushed against your clit that much harder had that white buzz spread through your thighs, into your hips, and then to rush wildly down through your core.

Buggy pulled from your kiss, free hand shooting up to hold your neck in a loose hold so that he could watch your brows furrow and mouth hang open in a gasping call of his name as you came. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, pulling your name and nicknames alike from Buggy’s panted lips. 

He pushed fully into you, nose brushing against yours as hot ribbons of come shot into your constricting pussy in spurts.

Buggy whimpered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body fell slump against yours, only held up by your legs around his waist and your arms around his waist. You held him tight, pressing your forehead into the side of his head, breathing in his scent with each heaving pull of air into your lungs.

“I think--I think we broke the piano.” You panted with a chuckle, kissing his shoulder. Buggy groaned, his body finding strength enough to hold you back just as tight.

“Whatever--I’ll steal you another one. I’ll steal so many pianos you won’t know what to do with them all.” You kissed his shoulder once more, a large, goofy grin pulling to your lips. One that, just like that warm feeling in your chest, you couldn’t help.

“Thank you. Today was very extra special.”

Original Requester for main Songbird series: @srgtjamesbarnes

Tag List: @lostfirefly , @fanaticsnail , @empressofmankind , @synoname-wordsmith , @cefni , @solarrexplosion , @luvrsbian , @misadventures0fdes , @fanshavegottensotoxic , @wasabiprophet , @ane5e , @friedtacokitty

#buggy #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #buggy x songbird #buggy x female reader #buggy x f!reader #one piece #one piece live action #opla #buggy the clown #one piece smut #buggy fluff #buggy smut #one piece fluff #valentines day #valentines day fic #songbird #banner by cafekitsune #divider by saradika #divider by saradika graphics

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Wildflower

What should Ghost give during Valentine's Day to Jade when she's an actual florist who sees flowers literally every day?

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 6.4k words Warning : Full on fluff-fest, a slight angst, and the good o'l cursings.

Title and story inspired by the song 'Wildflower' by Clay Finnesand and 'La Vie en Rose' by Louis Armstrong.

February 14th. 

Fucking Valentine’s day - a day full of love, they said. 

He never really celebrated or cared about any of those kinds of days where people commemorate shit like love. For him, it's just like any other day. He woke up today and did his workout before he went on jogging.

However, that day is different as he saw countless red and pink decorations in every store in his apartment neighbourhood, offering Valentine's day discount for couples. He swore he saw more couples walking down the street than usual, that he even saw a man propose to his girlfriend when he was jogging. 

Looking at them, Ghost remembered,

He already confessed to Jade during the New Years. 

Yep. He did.

Across the London Eye, when the fireworks painted the infinite black, the chimes of Big Ben rang throughout the Thames River, he said it to her, 

‘I think I’m falling in love with you.’

Only to disappoint her again by saying, ‘But I don’t think I’m ready yet.’

Had he been a coward for not being ready to commit yet? Jade was a shining light in his life. She knew of his struggles, and she treated him with kindness and fondness no woman ever did to him. All his life he never thought to fall in love with someone, yet here he was. 

He wanted to be in a relationship with her. Fuck, he wanted to. But she deserved the world. She deserved certainty and stability while his job was nothing but that. He could get deployed out of the blue anytime – die anytime. He had a lot of things to sort out first.

He saw tears in her green eyes despite the smile. She only hugged him in response, saying, 

‘I love you, so I’ll stay right here.’ Jade muttered shakily while pressing her body to his in a tight hug, her fingers grasping the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

‘When you’re ready, I’ll be here.’

‘Let’s be friends, yeah?’ She had added, to which he answered with a smile. “Yeah. We'll always be friends.”

That was New Years. 

It'd been two months since then. Ghost and Jade had been texting each other regularly all the while continuing their lives. They met occasionally for a food tour as Ghost was a food enthusiast. Their chat was full of ‘Let’s try the new Korean BBQ around the street’, ‘You ever tried a fried ice cream?’, ‘There’s a new movie about a lady becoming a superhero across multiple universes’, and more casual stuff like those. Meanwhile Jade would take him to physical activities such as take him to a zoo, hiking, and even go to arcades. 

Johnny had been such a tease on it. He’d been bothering Ghost the whole time in the base as the Lieutenant looked at his phone and typing away on it more frequently than ever. ‘Yer’ lookin’ very happy these days, Sir.’ , ‘How’s Jade doin’?’, ‘Another ‘meet-up’ with Jade?’, 

‘Yer’ so full of rubbish. That’s called a date.’ Soap had said. 

'Shut your gob. We’re just friends, Johnny.’

‘Friends who go on dates together.’

Soap ran away before Ghost could smack the shit out of him. 

But was it really? Ghost and Jade frequently walk together, as friends, Eating at places together, as friends. Watch movies together, as friends. 

But seeing that one guy propose to his girlfriend lit up a spark in him.

That's when Ghost texted her for a meet-up somewhere, Jade replied back with,

‘I would LOVE to if it's not the busiest time of the year T_T and every Valentines we'd open from early morning to midnight, so I'm really sorry. We have all our employees working, but it doesn't seem to make any difference.’

He forgot that Valentine’s day is literally the most important day for a florist. Fucking idiot.

Ghost sighed as he looked up from his phone, right in front of the Le Jardin floristry. He wore a black hoodie and a face mask, the black face paint absent from around his eyes as he was on leave, a rare occurrence from his line of work. Inside the garden was an organised chaos, to say the least. Ghost saw at least 6 customers inside the garden, around 4 employees going around the shop to accompany them. Even as one person went out after buying a flower, two people would enter the shop to replace them. The place was positively crowded.

He looked far and wide for Jade inside among the sea of people, until a woman with ginger hair came out of a room with a big rose bouquet, giving it to a man in an expensive suit that was tailored to perfection for his figure. The man paid for the humongous flowers and left the shop with a nervous face, meanwhile Jade instantly attended to another customer. He could tell that she's a leader based on how she commanded her employees with such confidence and authority, yet still had that kindness and gentleness in her way of talking. Her legs brought her around the shop with utmost speed and precision, not a single step was wasted on her feet.

He could only smile proudly beneath the mask. 

For about 15 minutes he observed the shop, until a truck pulled up in front of an alleyway right beside the floristry. Didn't have to wait long to understand that the vehicle was meant to pick up flower decorations for a wedding as an old man came out from the alleyway (presumably connected to the backdoor of the shop) brought out a very big, white bouquet in his arms, which size was so big it concealed his head - surely he couldn't see where he was stepping. Ghost noticed that he was struggling to lift the giant decoration onto the truck, his knees looked like it was about to tumble, until his prediction turned into reality.

The old man's knees failed him, and the big white flower decoration would turn into a mess on the ground, if not for Ghost, who quickly leaped in and held the flowers from falling. Ghost huffed in relief that he jumped just in time. 

The man leaned to the side of the decoration to see who had just saved him, and saw a big, tall man dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, whose face was concealed by another black face mask.

Regardless, the elder smiled wide, "Oh good heavens! Thank you so much for the assist! My knees aren't as strong as they used to." The old man said as they both put the white decorations into the truck box. "Ah~ being young is so much easier innit?"

Ghost only nodded, avoiding eye contact to hide his identity. Why'd he help him? probably just from reflex, but then again, how could he just leave an old man stumbling to his fall?

"I'm really sorry for the trouble. I wish I could repay you." The old man's expression was so kind it's almost blinding. He wasn't that short or frail for a man with entirely white hair, probably a 5'9". Judging by his quite muscular arms from his rolled sleeves, he could tell that he's not weak, his knees just betrayed him at a bad time. 

Ghost didn't say anything to the man as he was about to walk away to avoid more interaction, before a familiar feminine voice called.

"Papa! Are you okay!? I saw you trip!"

Both men turned their attention to the shop, where a woman with braided red hair and dark blue apron was talking from the main doorway. 

"Don't worry, Lottie Dear. I got it, but only thanks to this young lad right here." He gestured to Ghost, where he stood right on the elder's left. "If not for him, we'd have to replace all the flowers." 

Fuck.

The old man is her father. 

It's Mister Le Jardin. 

Her green eyes caught the sight of a man whose built and sense of fashion she would recognize from a mile away. "Wait... Ghost??" Jade exclaimed, her face filled with surprise, "What are you doin' here??" 

The SAS lieutenant looked up to her with a tinge of panic on his concealed face, while Mr. Le Jardin observed him up and down. "Oh? You know him?" 

Jade nodded slowly, still shocked, "Yes... he's uh… he's a friend from work." 

He never intended to be noticed by Jade, afraid of disturbing her work, let alone meet her father out of all people. 

The father noticed that word. 'From work'. 

"Really now? What's your name, young man?" Mr. Le Jardin asked, his voice went higher in delight. 

He lowered his head to bow a little, before answering, "Simon... Sir."

"Ah. Nice to meet you, Simon! I'm Eli, owner of Le Jardin along with my wife Gracie – she's inside dealing with the clients." He introduced himself with a handshake, which Ghost reluctantly accepted. 

"Sir! Where're the rest of the flowers?!" The truck driver shouted as he got off his vehicle, prompting Eli to walk to the back door through the alleyway, leaving Ghost and Jade at the front of the shop, her face still painted with shock. A lady walked in front of Jade to enter the shop, so she made some way for her and approached Ghost. 

"Hey Ghost." The red-head started, happiness filling her voice. 

"Hey." 

"So… What brings you here?" She surely knew that he wasn't there just because he 'happened to be in the area', so he deleted that reply in his mind. 

"I wanted to see you."

Jade's eyes widened, surprised at his straight-forward answer. "Oh." 

"Your old man lost his balance loading this decoration into the truck, so I helped him." 

"Oh." Still with the same answer, Jade couldn't tell him how fast her heartbeat was, as her father just came in contact with Ghost, the man she fell in love with.

He looked inside the shop, observing the clients and employees walking around. "Busy day innit?"

"Yeah, it is. To be honest we've been busy since the last 3 days. Had to pick up tons of fresh flowers from our fields back in Norfolk, then arrange them for this day. Today's the busiest day, so it's an all-hands-on-deck situation. Also a big wedding is coming up tonight, and we have to transport these humongous flowers to a hotel ballroom for decorations. Biiig money. This is the third truck." Jade explained as her father and the truck driver walked out with two exact copies of the same white flower decor, lifting them up into the truck before immediately running back in. Third truck? The client must've had too much money on their wallets.

Seeing the scene that's happening in front of him, Ghost took a deep breath and blew it out. 

"Seems like your Da can use an extra pair of arms and younger knees." His deep voice suggested, making Jade's eyebrow rise. 

"Oh? Are you willing to help us out?" 

A nod was all she needed as a confirmation. "Got nothin' else to do or to be."

A wide grin fell on her lips as she grabbed Ghost's right hand and pulled him into the alleyway and to the back door of the shop, where a vast storage room was packed full of flower decorations similar to the ones that were being lifted to the truck. There were only flowers where the eye could see, save for the door that led to the front shop. There were huge boxes and boxes of flowers that had big 'Ian & Gia 14/02's written on them.

Ghost turned to the woman beside her. "Big money, eh?"

"Suuuuper big. Businessman and a big shot pianist. Wanted all the jasmines of blue white and red, and we gotta lift them all to the truck." She explained smiling to him, "Think you're up for this?"

"Won't even break a sweat." Ghost began stepping into the storage room, lifting three big boxes at once in his arms. Jade was left impressed by his show of strength as he ran to the truck at an impressive speed, before coming back and picking up more boxes like a machine, his hoodie still up and his mask still on. 

Jade scoffed at his feat, as her father came to pat her shoulder from behind, "A soldier huh?"

"...Yeah."

"It's basically written on his whole figure and posture. Is he any special in his regiment?"

The daughter could only let out a light laugh, "Very, very much so."

"Get out of here." His father looked at her in disbelief, "SAS?" 

"Yep. One of the strongest, and I'm not even exaggerating." 

His loud laugh filled the alleyway as Ghost ran back and forth lifting the flower boxes without a second wasted and tiredness showing. Jade smiled before heading into the shop to aid her mother and her co-workers with the regular customers. 

------

“Chacha, the pink wrapping paper and white 2.5 is out! We need more from the storage, please!” shouted Fiona, her co-worker and best friend of southeast asian descent, who mainly works in the front counter, preparing the flowers right in front of the visitors (which worked as an added value to attract more people). Her wrapping skills were second to none in the shop, even to Gracie, Jade’s mother, who sat right beside her counting the incoming revenues and accepting orders by call. 

“One minute!” Jade shouted back from the studio room, which was right behind the wall of the main display room while her hands also swiftly moved to arrange roses inside a heart-shaped box. The order had come in pretty fast; she had to make three of them at a time, and now she had to go up to the second floor to get the items Fiona requested. 

“Let me get it.” A deep voice came from behind her, making Jade flinch and look back to the source of the voice, where Ghost stood. 

“A-Are you done with the loading?” Jade asked him with a start, as it was not even 20 minutes since he started to help her father lift all the flowers inside the truck. 

“Just finished. Truck left just now with your dad to arrange the decorations in the ballroom.” 

“Oh.” Jade leaned back to take a glimpse of the back storage room, and true to his words, it was empty. “Wow.”

“Where are these… pink wrappings and the ‘white 2.5’s’?” Asked Ghost with a tone of confusion in his words. Jade could only giggle as she never thought she’d hear the word ‘pink’ out of his mouth. 

“Okay, so go to the second floor. On your 3, duck down and the pink wrapping is on the 3rd shelf from the bottom - take 4 rolls of ‘em. ‘White 2.5’s’ means the white-coloured satin ribbon with a 2.5 centimetres width. Don’t mistake them for the rest as there are the .5, 1.2, 4, and 5 centimetres as well. From the shelf go to your left and there should be a high rack and you can find the thingy there. Take two rolls. Don’t forget to close the door before you go down.” 

Ghost stood in silence as he processed the information.

Before Jade could ask him if he remembered all that, he answered: “Affirmative.” 

The man walked to the side stairs and stepped over 2 stairs, disappearing from her sight to the upper floor. Jade scoffed at the sight before going back to her handiwork. When else can you command an SAS officer like this?

----------

“Chachaaa~ Where're the pink wrappings and white 2.5s?! I need ‘em no–” Fiona noticed the new pink wrappings and white ribbons on the table as she worked. That was fast. 

She then looked up, expecting to find her red-headed best friend who was shorter than her, only to find a big, tall man dressed in a black hoodie and a face mask instead, who exudes danger in the way he stands. Fiona, Gracie, and the clients looked him up and down with mouths agape, as they never saw this giant man around, ever. The scene looked too damn comical for his liking.

“...Is this correct?” Ghost started with a voice lower than the depths of hell, which surprised the whole room. Fuck. Being looked at by people was the one thing he wanted to avoid, but here he was.

“Lottie dear, Who’s this?” the old lady beside Fiona asked Jade with a quite high volume, who was still inside the studio arranging the heart-shaped roses.

Judging by the nickname and those braids in her gray hair similar to Jade's, this lady could only be Gracie, her mother. 

Mrs. Le Jardin. 

“H-He’s a friend from work! I called him up here to lend a hand!” Jade shouted back from the studio. Even with the answer, all the people were still staring at him, especially Jade’s mum, and it felt like having ten laser sights aiming at him.

He swore he saw a smirk from Gracie.

So before he attracted more attention, Ghost repeated, “Is this correct?” 

“Y—yeah.” Fiona answered nervously, meanwhile her mother was still eyeballing him like she found a leprechaun. Upon hearing that confirmation, Ghost left the items in the counters and fast-walked back to the studio where Jade was, disappearing from sight. 

-----------

“Chacha, are you serious? ‘A friend from work’?” Fiona asked her best friend as she threw a piece of french fries into her mouth. The Le Jardin floristry was currently having a lunch break, and most of the employees went out to get their own meals, while the two stayed inside to talk about the man who was currently sweeping the floor of the studio alone, silently.

Fiona stared at his back from where they were eating at a counter, chewing at her fries. “Are you saying that you have a friend built like that with a voice like that working as a volunteer in the orphanage dealing with kids???”

“Nooo no no, that’s not it–!” That was where Jade messed up. She forgot that neither her best friend, nor any one of their employees know that the Le Jardins used to be MI6 black agents, except the fact that Jade was adopted. They both started to become friends when Fiona applied for the job 3 years ago, right when Jade just retired from MI6. All that she knew was the fact that Jade only had two jobs: Floristry on weekdays and in the orphanage for weekends. She never mentioned the other work that she did for the last two decades of her life. “I didn’t mean from work, I mean I met him when I was at work.” 

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.” 

“When and how did you meet him? Heck what is his name?” Shit. She needed to make up stories about him at this point. But what?! Jade hated lying. Sure it’s super easy to manipulate people by changing reality, but she didn’t want to lie to her best friend! Fiona’s the one who’s been helping her adjust to the life of being a florist and a normal life for the last three years (after saying that she’d been living abroad). 

However, how can Jade just say, ‘oh so actually I was an MI6 agent. Both of your bosses were too, actually. Not only agents – we were black agents who were trained since we were not old enough to make our own decisions to do the illegal stuff! I retired three years ago and that's when I met you, but they called me back again, and that’s when I met that guy who happened to be an officer of one the most elite task forces in the world!' 

That’s just absurd!

How did she meet him? How did she meet him?! 

"Ja– I mean Midg– I mean Lottie, where do I put these–"

The two women turned their heads to Ghost, who came out of the studio with the broom and dustpan in his hands. Looking at the two women's expression, he knew he fucked up. He didn't know what to call her outside of work. Her call sign 'Jade' was directly tied to her work as an MI6 and he couldn't know for sure if Fiona knew about that name. 'Midget' was the name he called her regularly, but he thought it was too harsh in front of her best friend, while 'Lottie' was…

"Why did you call her that?" Fiona asked him while chewing her fries, suspicion painting het face, while Jade sucked her lips and widened her eyes in shock.

Fuck. He thought right. It's a pet name used exclusively by her parents. 

"Wait. No way." She turned to Jade and Ghost back and forth before standing up abruptly, startling Jade, meanwhile Ghost stood calmly, still holding the cleaning tools in his hands.

"Chacha… is he your secret boyfriend?!?" 

That sentence shocked both of them as Jade quickly denied in panic, "No! No, he's not!! Just– sit down will you?" 

"That name is exclusively used by the bosses, ya know." She started walking towards Ghost slowly. 

Jade followed her from behind, trying to hold her friend back. "Fiona, he isn't! I swear!"

"No, seriously. How did you meet her? When?" She started closing in on Ghost excitedly, looking up at him. "What’s your name, by the way?"

“Simon.” Ghost answered deadpanly, as the last question was literally the only question he can answer casually. As long as he didn’t give out his last name, it’d be fine. “Name’s Simon.” 

"Ooooooh so he's the reason why you've been going out a lot after closin' up! You've been on dates!!" 

"NO!! We haven't–" 

"Yes."

Ghost's deep voice interrupted the two girls' argument, making them look at the man. 

"We've been on dates." 

Jade's face turned as red as her hair, and her heart beat so fast and so hard she swore Fiona and Ghost could hear it. Why was he suddenly doing this??? All the while, Fiona's jaw dropped to the floor, eyes glaring at her best friend in shock. 

Jade glanced at Ghost, but that damned hoodie and face mask did not help her at all. "I KNEW IT!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU'VE BEEN DATING BEHIND MY BACK??? I mean– I am happy for you, Chacha, but WHY ARE YOU HIDING IT FROM ME???" Fiona excitingly chimed to her best friend, grabbing Jade's shoulders before shaking them like she's a ragdoll. 

"Wait– Fiona I can explain–"

"Okay! Explain then! Tell me everything! And don't you dare try to hide anything from me." That's right. She deserved to know. Fiona had been with her for the past three years. She's her first best friend ever. Jade knew she could trust her.

Jade relented with a big sigh and glanced at Ghost with a questioning look. He caught her cue before he himself took a deep breath. "As long as she can keep her mouth shut."

Fiona turned to Ghost, "Wh-what? What is this about?"

"Fiona. My dear best friend. My very beautiful friend that I trust. I love you, so, so much, so I will tell you the truth." Jade started before Ghost cut her again. 

"Jade where do I put the broom and the dustpan."

"Owh just put it on the side there yeah. Thanks."

"Who's Jade?"

—------------

"Okay. So let me get this straight." Fiona clapped her hands together in front of Ghost and Jade, who were sitting on the chairs behind the counter together while Fiona was standing up. Jade sat like she was being interrogated, while Ghost folded his arms in front of his chest.

"You, Chacha, had been working as an MI6 black agent for the last twenty years, since you were a wee kid, and then retired three years ago." Jade nodded.

"But two years ago, they called you back to this city called… Verdansk, and that's where you meet… Simon." She gestured to Ghost, who nodded.

"You only met briefly, until last October, you got called back from retirement again, and that's when you met him for the second time. But this one was special, as you guys started to develop feelings for each other, am I right?" Both of them nodded. 

"GOD this sounds like a Wattpad type of shite!!" Fiona grasped her hair from frustration, "And you're an MI6 BLACK AGENT??? REALLY???"

"Was. Papa and Mama were, too, actually." 

"Oh my Dear Lord in Heavens. THE BOSSES WERE BLACK AGENTS TOO?????" Jade nodded again. Clearly she didn't have any single clue of the burden that came with the words 'MI6', 'agent', especially with the added word 'black' in front of it.

"And you, Simon. So you're a soldier. Which one are you from? Navy? Is it the Royal Artillery? Or is it Life Guards like James Blunt?" Fiona asked with her very limited military knowledge. 

"You promised to keep your mouth shut so keep your promise." That voice came out harsher than he intended it to be, prompting Fiona to be taken aback.

"SAS."

The black-haired woman gasped so hard, covering her mouth in shock. "...like Bear Grylls?"

Jade couldn't help the giggle, as Ghost was utterly flabbergasted at her reaction as that was the first thing that came to her mind from the revelation. "...Yeah. Like Bear Grylls. And no I don't know him."

"Wow. Okay. So why the face mask? Does this have anything to do with secrecy and stuff?" Fiona asked him again as Ghost still had the hoodie up and face mask. She hadn't seen his face at all. "Am I not allowed to see his face? Wait Chacha you have seen his face right?"

"Of course I have! What do you mean by that!?" Jade countered, clearly overwhelmed by the barrage of questions. "Ghost. it's up to you."

Ghost huffed, lifting up one hand to the upper hem of his face mask. Fiona observed as Ghost pulled down the mask for a good 3 seconds, catching a glimpse of his strong jaw, his light brown stubble, the faint scars on his face, before putting the face mask back into place again. "Happy now?"

"Oh. Wow. Okay. I am happy." Fiona confirmed with start, turning to look at Jade again, "Chacha you hit a jackpot on this one – so you guys are a couple, right?"

The man and woman looked at each other for a long time, Jade bit her lower lip as her expression fell. Ghost could only close his eyes in regret. 

"Wait, no way you guys aren't a thing already. Whaaaatttt?" Fiona expressed her confusion because, for the last two months, Jade had started to buy more makeup and clothes, and the sudden interest in her looks had made Fiona suspicious. She really thought her best friend was dating a man secretly, but now that he's right here, both of them could not say that they're in a relationship?

"Look, Fiona… it's complicated, okay? We're just taking things slow right now. Our… jobs have their own risks, and we're just trying to enjoy things as they are now." Jade tried to explain with a bit of a sad tone to her voice. 

"So… you guys are friends, who happen to go on dates occasionally?" Fuckin' hell. Ghost thought. How could she say the exact same thing as Soap? Was it really weird? For two friends to just go together doing whatever they liked? 

After both of them nodded for the hundredth time that day, Fiona sighed in acceptance. "Chacha, Luv, I might not understand what you guys are going through right now, but Simon," she turned to Ghost, who lifted his head to see her clearly. "You better not make her cry." 

The man glanced to his side, where Jade silently sat on the chair. He knew she'd already hurt her feelings by saying he wasn't ready for a relationship yet, but if he wanted to be honest with himself, was ‘scared’ and ‘afraid’ the right word for it? As Soap and Fiona said, they’re literally doing what couples do. 

He’s just afraid to put a name on it. 

“I’ll try.” 

—------------

Jade had texted him earlier that during Valentine’s, Le Jardin’s floristry would open until midnight. Ghost wondered why as it had been a while since the employees had gone home, including Fiona (who told her that they were going to have a long chat on the phone) who had to go home and have dinner with her family. The sun had long drowned, replaced by the moon that accompanied the cold winter of London. Warm lights from the shops and a few street lights were the only thing lighting up the streets - one of them coming from the floristry. 

The sales peaked around 6 PM to 9 PM when people finished their work to be with their loved ones. Ghost had absolutely no skills in flower arranging or wrapping, so he did all he could to help the other employees to pick tools or items from high shelves, and even change the lightbulb when one of them died. Ghost didn’t mind it one bit as he found simple domestic things like this relaxing compared to what he did in the military - full of pressure, stress, and blood. 

Meanwhile, the utmost form of stress in Le Jardin’s (at least what he saw today), was a customer who kept changing the flowers that he wanted, and then lashing out at Fiona when his bouquet wasn’t tied the way he wanted to. Ghost almost wanted to step in, drag him out of the store, and throw him out to the streets, but Jade stepped in and calmly asked the customer for references, dealing with the situation one at a time, and finally, the man stomped out. Ghost knew that there were more variety of problems in retail, but at least he got to experience one today. To be honest that was probably the least angry person in London. 

That was 3 hours ago. Now, there’s only the Le Jardins and Ghost; the father had come home at around 4 PM after finishing the decorations. He took a photo of the ballroom and showed it to his family and Ghost, who was quite amazed at the old man’s sense of composition and aesthetic. 

The four of them were all in the front room, Gracie counting the revenues, Jade tidying up the display flowers, Eli wiping the windows, and Ghost sweeping the floors (again). The clock showed 00.23, the shop was empty, and even the cafe opposite them was already closed. As Ghost finished his chore, he put the cleaning tools to the side before approaching Jade.

“Are you not closin’? It’s past midnight.” He muttered to her, who was tidying up the edelweiss display. 

Jade smiled, “We usually extend about an hour.” 

“Why?” 

“You’ll see.”

Just as he was about to question it, the phone rang besides Gracie, who picked up the call immediately,

“Le Jardin Floristry. Yes, we are still open. You might be our last client, Sir. We do have tulips available. What colour? Red and pink, got it. The bouquet will be here when you arrive. Yes. We’ll be here, Sir, don’t worry. Thank you!” After confirming the order, Gracie smiled towards Ghost as she put the phone back. “That’s why, Simon Dear.”

About twenty minutes later, a man entered the shop in a hurry, dressed in a dirty fire brigade jacket. He clearly just finished his work and then drove to the floristry immediately after he extinguished whatever fire broke out somewhere. The moustached man approached the counter, where Jade had his order ready. “I’m here for my tulips?” He muttered, clearly tired from the way he panted. 

“Here it is, Sir. That’ll be 18 pounds.” 

“Thank you so much. You guys were the only shop open at this time. I’m forever grateful. I already told my wife and children that I’ll be late, but I truly felt bad.” He pulled out his wallet before putting a 20-pound note on the counter. 

“A pleasure for us, Sir. Have a good night!” Gracie chimed as he took the tulips in his hands, exited the shop and finally drove off. With that, Eli flipped the ‘Open’ tag to the ‘Closed’ tag.

“Delightful! Now.” Mr. Le Jardin put his hands on his hips, “Let’s have dinner.” Once Ghost heard that, he immediately planned his escape from the floristry like he needed to escape an enemy’s vicinity. 

“Simon Dear, you’re joining us, aren’t you?” But after hearing the gentle yet commanding tone coming out of Gracie, he decided against it, as what he heard in his ear was, ‘We’re going to have a conversation about you and my daughter’. 

—-------

Fuck. There’s the question. “No, Ma’am." He replied slowly, "Not yet."

“So, Simon Dear.” Gracie's voice startled Ghost as he was cutting the carrots for the chicken soup they're making, all the while Gracie was stirring the ladle on the pot. His hood was still up on his head, but he's taken off his mask to smell the chicken broth in front of him. He figured that if there's a civilian he'd let see his face, it's an ex-MI6 whose daughter he loved.

It was only the two of them in the kitchen on the third floor as Eli and his daughter were still tidying up the first floor. “Are you Lottie’s boyfriend?” 

Ghost expected a questioning look followed by a 'why', but instead she gave him a light nod. “She’s very fond of you, I think you should know."  That one caught Ghost's attention, briefly slowing down his slices. Did Jade talk to her mother about him?

"The way she talks about you, I know how deeply she really cared for you. She saw her future with no man, at all, until she met you. Had to do with 'understanding one another' she said." Gracie put in more black pepper into the pot.

“May I know, what stopped you from committing to her?”

More questions to answer, but this one, he didn't know how to answer. 

“...I don’t know, Ma'am."

Not long, Gracie muttered with a tone he almost forgot. Motherly. “...Are you afraid?”

And that's when he found himself so vulnerable, so open. And the weird thing was, he only felt like this when he's with Jade. He thought Gracie's her adoptive mother, but this magical familial trait where people could instantly open up to them was almost scary. 

He expected judgement, but what came was a light smile. “You remind me of Eli and me, back when we were still with MI6."

Was it a yes? No, he's not afraid. He just thought that if they started dating, she might be wasting her time with him. Well, he's afraid that all this love that he's feeling and all these moments with be for naught if he's just dead after a deployment gone wrong. He can't promise anything to her. Ghost knew how serious Jade was about a relationship. She wanted a long-lasting one.

Ghost didn't mutter a word out of his mouth. Only continuing his work. He could feel her gaze on him, but he still chose to stay silent.

"He was afraid of the life we’ll lead. Constantly running, followed by death everywhere we go. Stability and domesticity was a dream impossible to achieve.” As Ghost listened and wondered how the fuck did she read his mind, he lifted the cutting board and poured the cube-cut carrot into the pot. 

“However, I can tell him anything, he can tell me anything.” Gracie continued, looking up at him. Her gaze was as soft as Jade's, grey eyes softly gazing into his soul. “Eli had his own problems, I had my own, but what mattered was the fact that we both tried to be better, for my own sake, and for his sake.”

“He was my best friend, and I was his. It was a leap of faith to be together.” She said as her palm tapped his shoulder firmly.

“I’m saying this as her mother. If you love her, then go all in. She deserves all of you.”

---

Dinner was eventful, to say the least. The Le Jardins, plus Ghost, ate their dinner together in their house on the third floor. Chicken and vegetable soup accompanied by warm cups of tea was enough to fill their stomachs. Ghost, of course, had to take his hood down and took off his face mask to eat with the three of them.

It felt odd. 

When was the last time he had a family dinner like this? Eating a delicious meal without having to find a place where there's no other people? A place where he could freely show his face to others, the warmth of a family? 

It didn't take long for Eli to finish his meal, as he stood up and put on 'La Vie en Rose' by Louis Armstrong on the classic gramophone. Gracie scoffed loudly, stood up, and took Eli's hand in hers. 

"Heeeere we go." Jade rolled her eyes, seeming like she had to watch this for the thousandth time.

As Louis Armstrong started to sing, the two old couple put out an amazing slow dancing show in front of Ghost and Jade. Seeing them so unashamedly happy, and the fact that both of their eyes only stared at each other with so much love, Ghost unconsciously smiled.

And when he turned to look at Jade, there was she, two hands holding her phone horizontally, taking a video of her parents, grinning ear to ear while her eyes gleamed with joy.

It's such a warm scene to witness. 

He only hoped it was him and her in place of Eli and Gracie.

—------------

The time showed 02.13. Ghost and Jade were standing in front of the shop, a long scarf wrapped around Ghost's neck as the cold was harsh that time of the day. Jade insisted that he wore them, or she said he would catch a cold. 

"Thank you, Ghost. For today. My dad had been having regular trouble with his knee, so thank you so so much." Jade started, cheeks blushing that was certainly not because of the February winter. 

"Well, I doubt that, considering how well he danced with your mum." Ghost replied, making Jade laugh. Her smile was a sight he'd never get tired of seeing. “Are you going anywhere tomorrow?” 

That question quite surprised her. “Well… Tomorrow my shift starts at 3 PM. So I'm free in the morning. Why?"

“I want to make do for today. We haven’t had a proper… date. Yet. I honestly had wanted to bring you flowers, but I remembered you're a florist. So I felt like a prat.”

Her face turned as red as tulips at that. “Honestly, you helping out in the shop was more romantic than anything you could ever give."

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah! So… what are you thinkin’ for tomorrow? What do you wanna do, Ghost?”

“What do you wanna do?” He asked back.

“Oh? W-well… Hmmm." Jade contemplated, pouting her lips, glancing at the moon high in the sky. "Ice skating. And then Korean barbecue after.”

“I-Ice skating?” Ghost stuttered, not expecting that answer. 

“Yeah. What, you afraid you’re gonna fall?”

“I have no clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold you if you do.” 

He wanted to say something along the lines of 'fuck-off' or 'sod you'. But he deleted that reply before it came out of his mouth, instead saying, "Please do."

Jade grinned ear-to-ear at that response. She was anticipating a clap back from him, but it was such an unusually warm reply that she couldn't help the blush in her cheeks.

No matter how much she wanted him to stay close to her, he had to go, and Jade said her goodbye. "Thank you for today. See you tomorrow, Simon."

Still standing still, Ghost muttered, "It was fun."

She thought he was going to start walking away towards his apartment, but instead, a glimmer of light reflected on his brown irises, still gazing at hers with such hopeful and wistful eyes.

And before she knew it, Ghost leaned in closer to her face, and placed a soft peck on her cheek.

As he stood back, Jade saw that his face burnt red, seeming like what he just did took great courage and resolution. His face still so close to hers, Ghost left her speechless.

And before she could say anything, he said his last words to her that night,

"See you tomorrow, Lottie."

----------------------

Hope you like it! (❁´◡`❁)

#WHEEEEEEEWWWW #if I can draw more scenes I would #but I'm just so PACKED #might draw more and add them to this post in the future #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #charlotte jade le jardin #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #art #ghost x oc #ghost x jade #valentine fic #valentines day fic

[morallyinept]

If you have written any Valentine's Day stories (past or present), or are planning to, featuring any of The Pedro Boys, please tag me.

I'm putting together a Valentine's specific fic rec list and would love to read and feature your work!

If you can kindly re-blog/signal boost so this can reach others, that would be amazing!

Thank you, love you! 🖤😘

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal #valentine's day #valentine's day stories #valentines day fic #jett's fic recs

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

Here’s the thing about the kids.

Mike can be downright squirrely when he wants to be.

The guy is all long-limbs and ever-changing moods, and the second he spots Steve he vanishes around the corner and leaves no trace of himself behind.

Dustin, similarly, is catty.

The kid’s not fast, but when cornered, he has a tendency to do the most insane, ridiculous things.

Currently Steve is ninety percent sure he just saw him jump out a window, and the only reason it’s not one hundred is because his eyesight isn’t the greatest these days, and it’s entirely possible Dustin found something to put that stupid Weird Al shirt on and threw that out the window instead,

It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.

Knowing this, Steve automatically goes for the easiest target: Lucas.

See, Lucas is, of course, the most athletic and the only one likely to give Steve a run for his money should he too, decide to bolt.

He also was the most likely to stop and actually talk to Steve, because unlike his friends, he possessed some emotional maturity.

Or just maturity in general.

“Come on Luc, what’s going on?” Steve calls out, the second he rounds the corner and spots the kids. “You’re freaking me out.”

That makes Lucas stop and come to him, while the other two dipshits bolt.

Steve leans against a wall, eyebrow raised as Lucas slinks forward, but knows instantly from the grin the kid’s trying to hide that whatever’s going on right now, is their usual kind of bullshit.

(An internal part of him, the part that has to deal with the unusual bullshit every six months or so, sighs in relief.)

“Okay, you have to swear not to be mad.” Lucas starts, which is never a good sign, but at least it’s coming from Steve’s second most trustworthy kid.

(Will still holds first place, after the time he ratted out Mike for dumping nail polish all over Max’s jacket.

“She was super rude, but she didn’t deserve that.” Will had said with a stubborn set to his jaw.

Steve had ruffled his hair and together they had plotted a way to get revenge on Mike without letting Max outright murder him.)

“We uh, might have heard that you were being auctioned off tonight.”

Which was not at all where Steve thought this was going to go.

“Okay?” He hedges, waiting to see where Lucas spills the part that makes Steve worry.

“So you played D&D with Erica and Dustin, and neither of them will stop bragging about it.” Lucas says, a slight pink coloring his cheeks, “--and Mike won’t say it, but I know it bothers him too so we thought we could, uh, buy you. For the day.”

Lucas sends out his gigawatt grin, the one he uses when he’s trying to be his most charming. “To make you play D&D with us.”

Something warm and soft blooms in Steve’s heart. A kind of love he’d never had before hauling the little shits out of the line of fire the first time.

These kids were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

“If you ever tell the others I said this I will deny it ” Steve says, pulling out his wallet and forking out a handful of twenties. “But I would be happy to play your dungeons and dipshits game with you.”

Lucas doesn’t even correct him as he accepts the money with a grin--a real one this time. “Really?” He says, and it's so stupidly hopefully it makes Steve’s heart squeeze.

He reaches out, pulling the kid in for a hug for a second. Claps him on the back a few times before pushing fondly at his head.

“Over being taken on a date by some middle aged woman? Absolutely. But like I said,” He playfully shoves Lucas away, “You tell anyone and I will deny, deny, deny.”

“Sure Steve, whatever.” Lucas says, before running off to go find his friends.

Steve watches him go for a moment, smile on his face, before turning back to the gym.

He’d rather play D&D with the kids any day over dealing with this farce.

(The shocking thing, he finds himself thinking as he wanders over to where the other dates are situated, is that he means it. Even if a hot, beautiful girl bid on him--he’d rather spend the day with the kids.

Doesn’t that just say something about his life these days?)

xXx Eddie xXx

His club was going to kill him.

Normally, missing a game would be downright heresy. Betrayal of the highest order, particularly considering he’s the damn dungeon master. Sure, other people can DM, but not for the current ongoing campaign, which means Eddie landing his sorry ass in detention disrespected the sanctity of both his club and his people.

A fact he will need to beg on hands and knees to makeup for.

The siren song of the microphone, nevermind the idea of having an honest to god stage to prowl around on at lunch was simply too much for Eddie to resist, particularly when it came to his anti-Valentines Day speech.

Not that he was the type of guy to roll his eyes at all the lovey-dovey crap floating around, but more that people could be so stupid about it.

…and maybe he was a little bit jealous.

Eddie convinces himself it’s fine. He plans to have a session for the missed game on Sunday, when he knows his friends had planned to hang out at his place anyway.

Still feels bad about it as he walks down the halls of Hawkin’s high, annoyed that detention took as long as it did.

There’s people milling around, in the kind of stupid dressed up clothes that wasn’t formal, but could be described by evil words like “business casual.” The best skirts and knitted tops, slacks for the men paired with button up shirts or polos.

Like a fucking swarm of Steve Harrington’s--without any of the guys charm.

Not that he had any charm.

Definitely not.

Eddie gives an overactive shudder to clear his head, making his way out of the school as fast as he can.

Because life, the universe and everything in it hates him, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie! Oh thank god, look guys it’s Eddie!”

For the briefest of seconds after hearing Henderson’s voice, Eddie’s worried no one thought to tell the kids that Hellfire had been canceled.

Or, considering Eddie’s over the top response to the first time one of them had tried to miss a campaign night, they might be worried he’s dying (rather than simply an “unbearable idiot” as Jeff had called him earlier.)

His freshman lambs quickly swarm him, three pairs of eyes staring with weird amounts of hope (Sinclair, Henderson) and awkward embarrassment (Wheeler.)

“Eddie! Eddie, they're only letting Juniors and Seniors place the actual bets!” Dustin sounds frantic, practically vibrating in place before him. “They won’t let any of us bid on Steve!”

Any fondness Eddie felt evaporates in a puff of vexed smoke.

“That sounds like a you problem.” He challenges, raising an eyebrow.

For once, the freshmen don’t cringe back.

Instead he’s treated to steel sliding across Henderon’s face, Sinclair right behind him and Mike, who refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes, but stands with his friends anyway.

“Come on, think of all the chaos it’ll cause!” Dustin is pleading, his hands waving in the air in a way that reminds Eddie of himself. “Isn’t that like, you’re whole thing? Going against ‘the Man’!?”

Yes, because publicly buying Harrington for a date in front of Hawkin’s self-proclaimed elite was a great way to stick it to ‘the Man’, instead of, say, painting yet another target on his back.

“I don’t think getting into a bidding war over taking Steve Harrington on a date is going to go over well.” He deadpans.

Dustin throws his hands in the air. “It doesn’t have to be a date! ”

“Jennifer’s mom’s friends bid on her. For a girls night.” Mike adds so quietly it takes a minute for the words to process.

“Just saying!” He adds frantically, as though Eddie is going to call him out for this betrayal.

Considering the downright fearful look he’s wearing, Eddie might just do it for shits and giggles in his next campaign.

“We’re begging you, don’t you want to see Steve play D&D? We promise you can even watch the whole thing and embarrass him or whatever!” Dustin continues, hands clasped together in front of him.

“There you idiots are.” A judgey, annoyed voice calls, cutting into the conversation.

Eddie has never met Sinclair Jr. but immediately assumes the girl walking towards them with her arms firmly on her hips must be her “Steve’s up next, idiots. I know you know how auctions work, so I shouldn't have to remind you about having to physically be in the room to bid on him.”

She stops, cocking her head challengingly. “Unless one of you is going to call in from a payphone?”

Cheeky.

Eddie loves cheeky.

Even if she is eleven.

Muted calls ring out again from the gym. Apparently Hawkin’s middle aged women have started their fight for a day spent with one of the “young, local heroes”.

The very thought of Steve, all scraped up in the stupid Scoop’s Ahoy sailor uniform, guiding kid’s out of the mallfire with his broad chest and buff arms and--

“Eddie.” Dustin whines, bouncing frantically in place.

‘Head out of the gutter, Munson!’ He thinks, annoyed at himself (and perhaps, a little bit more understanding of the ladies shouting out numbers in the gym).

“Do you still only have five dollars?” He says, and it's not defeat, not yet, but he can see the hope reignite in their eyes.

This was stupid. A stupid, stupid, stupid idea!

“We have a hundred now.” Lucas says firmly, which is at least a lot more than five.

The calls from the gym are playful but there’s a catty undertone now. Those women really want that date with Steve, and Eddie knows walking in there, bidding on Harrington is a death sentence.

Dustin’s done something to his eyes. They’re wide, shined over like he’s about to cry. Like this fucking matters to him.

It drills into Eddie in a way he hates. How the three of them, (even Mike who is still trying his best not to act like he wants this) are handing him all their dreams. He’s someone they look up to, someone who can make things happen, and he’s always liked that feeling--but this?

This was asking a lot.

“Eddie man, please. You’re our only hope.” Dustin says it softly, and goddamn him, it’s like he knows Eddie is weak for this shit. That under all his leather and chains that he cares.

About them.

He just wishes what they didn’t care about was fucking Steve Harrington.

He knows they think the guy hung the moon. Just as he knows he'll need more than money to fend off the competition and actually win Steve: he'll need a plan.

Knows, even, just how he’ll do it.

“Baby Sinclair, a word?” He crooks a finger, walking a few paces backwards as a plan rapidly forms.

She flicks her eyes over to him, and with an appraisal that says she had already judged him and found him lacking. “It’s Erica.”

Eddie bows low to her, arm brushing the floor. “My deepest apologies, Lady Erica.”

She rolls her eyes but comes over anyway and lets Eddie whisper in her ear.

xXx

If there's one thing Eddie is good at, it's presentation.

The gym doors are already open so there’s nothing he can throw or kick dramatically to announce his presence. Instead, Eddie settles for wading through the crowded tables until he’s dead center to the stage.

Steve stands upon it, a smile in place that reads fake as hell--but considering the sheer amount of wine glasses on all the tables Eddie doesn’t think anyone else clocks it. At least, not anyone who can legally drink anyway.

Erica, bless her, manages to swipe an auction paddle and hand it to Eddie. With a cocked hip, he holds it straight into the air..

"One-fifty!" He calls, causing a wave of heads to twist his way.

“What the hell.” Jason hisses, launching to his feet. Chrissy pulls at his elbow, but he throws her off with a quick jerk, staring furiously from his spot with the other “dates.”

"This is a charity event, Munson. This isn’t time for one of your pranks!” He speaks in the kind of loud, surefire way that screams authority and draws eyes from around the room.

Eddie was prepared for it.

“Jason,” he gasps, paddle going over his heart in mock outrage, “this isn’t a prank! I’m here on behalf of the children.”

The stare he gets would have fit better on an enraged bull.

(The bull, Eddie reasons, would have been smarter.)

“What children!?” Jason spits and Eddie couldn’t have planned a better entrance if he’d paid the moron to say all the shit he just had.

Erica, playing her part like the champion she was, steps out from behind Eddie and waves.

"Steve helped me escape during the mallfire.” She announces, loud enough to be heard throughout the gym.

She takes another step forward, all eyes on her and makes herself look smaller somehow.

Younger.

“I just--" she cuts herself off, eyes welling with unshed tears as she bites her lip. "I just would love it if Steve played some club games with us. Please?"

Her voice breaks on the word ‘games’ and Eddie has to hand it to her--girl’s a rising star.

"Are you shitting me?!" Jason protests, but is shushed loudly by the mother at the table nearest to him. Chrissy finally succeeds in getting her boyfriend to sit back down, his face a glorious shade of red.

If Eddie had known he was going to get to embarrass Carver out of this, he would have agreed a lot sooner.

“One-fifty going once!” The auctioneer calls, and Erica takes a hesitant step forward.

“One-fifty going twice!” He calls again, and there’s a hush in the gym everyone collectively holding their breath.

“Sold!” He calls out, after a too long pause.

Erica lets out a loud sob (slightly over-acted but Eddie will give it to her) and runs up the stairs of the stage, leaping at Steve.

He catches her in a crushing hug, applause and whistles following what has to be every mother in the damn place letting out an “awww.”

Eddie manages not to gag, but only because he still has his showman smile in place.

Steve descends the stairs, Erica holding his hand until the next “date” is called to the stage. She leans in to whisper something to him and Eddie gets to watch Steve smother bark of laughter with a cough as Erica casually skips off.

"How much did Erica charge you for that little show?" Steve asks quietly as he comes up to Eddie, the two of them heading to the cashier.

“She wants me to paint her a bunch of signs for her girl scout troop. Then swear to buy ten boxes of cookies.”

Steve shakes his head, a soft smile on his face. "Consider yourself lucky. She nailed me with free ice cream for life once."

"Damn." Eddie whistles.

"I know the kids probably put you up to this, but I appreciate it." Steve continues, sounding outright relieved as they stand in line together to pay.

Eddie gives him a look. "You're happy that I won." He says.

It’s not a question.

“Absolutely I am a man, did you see some of the women bidding on me?” Steve shudders, making a horrified face that Eddie can’t not laugh at.

"What if I really did want to go on a date, Stevie?" He teases, knocking his shoulder into the former jock’s. “And the whole thing with Mini Sinclair was just a way to do it?”

Steve goes with the movement, clearly taken aback. Eddie begins to grin, clasping his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes. Waits for the negative reaction he knew was coming.

He doesn’t get it.

Instead, Steve's face melted into something downright sinful.

“Then I’d still be coming out ahead, Munson.” Steve’s voice drops low, leaning in a bit to make his words private. “It’d be fun to use the ol’ Harrington charm on you.”

Eddie swallows once, twice.

His throat bops as he tries to make it work, before finally managing to spit out "For the record, I am immune to any and all charms.”

“That’s what they all say.” Steve says, then winks.

Fucking.

Winks.

At him!

“Whatever.” He scoffs. Steps up to pay, because it’s finally his turn, and listens as the woman behind the counter explains that as part of the rules of the auction: all dates must be redeemed by the end of the weekend.

Is followed by Harrington, who turns a smile onto the women behind the table.

“Not a problem.” Steve tells her, and while it doesn’t seem like he's using that “Harrington Charm” that totally had not made Eddie blush scarlet, the cashier is clearly enamored anyway.

“Thank you for bidding on him for those kids.” She tells Eddie, as Steve leans a hip against the table.

“Eddie here is a true gentleman.” Steve says, turning his grin back towards him and thank god his hair covers his ears because Eddie knows they’re fucking bright red too. “The kids adore him just as much as me.”

“I bet that little girl is just thrilled that he won.” The cashier continues, and Eddie would bet all his teeth that Erica would rather fight a bear than be referred to as a “little girl.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie manages, voices several octaves higher than normal.

Looks away, as he’s handed the receipt so he doesn't have to face the fact that he paid for a date with Steve Harrington.

That he'd made just as much of a show as Eddie had and fucking flirted with him after.

It didn't matter that they'd both done this for the kids.

This shit was gonna be the hottest gossip topic for all those annoying church ladies, he just knew it.

(“The little shits even talked me into DMing the game!” He howls into the phone to Gareth, after Eddie had gone home, screamed into his pillow, and then frantically called his best friend.

"At least you can make date related jokes." Gareth replies, and he keeps swearing he’s not laughing, but he is, the traitor.

“That makes things worse, not better, Gare!”)

#steddie #Eddie gets the full Harrington Experience #dating #flirten #gay panik #poor eddie #he doesnt know whats gonna hit him #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #valentines day fic #the full things on AO3 #its just long af

[it-happened-one-fic]

Overindulgence - Baizhu

Author Notes: Happy (belated) Valentine's Day Genshin fandom! I debated about whether or not to write a Valentine's fic or not before finally breaking down and deciding to do so. I actually had a fair bit of fun writing this one. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender Neutral reader/ Fluff/ implied romance/ sfw

Word Count: 1121

“What are those?” Even though I wasn’t facing him as I sat down the plate of chocolates I knew exactly what expression on Baizhu’s face. I'd easily known him long enough to know that and clearly picture it solely based on the tone he used.

It was the one that was usually reserved for particularly disobedient or poorly behaved patients. The frustrating ones who wouldn’t do as instructed and would automatically complain when the didn’t recover immediately despite not having done as they were told.

I was proved correct as I turned to look at the doctor with a smile that was perfectly at odds with his frown. But I was wholly unperturbed by the frown on his face as I gestured to the little chocolates on the plate, “Dark chocolate. I helped Qiqi make them.” 

I paused, tilting my head and letting my amusement creep into my voice as I finished, knowing my next words would seal the deal, “She wanted us to have them.”

I watched as Baizhu pursed his lips, unable to turn down the little girl’s gift despite his general distaste for candies.

He’d dealt too often with patients suffering from a stomachache or some other sweets-related ailment to be fond of such foods.

“Where did she get the idea of making chocolates,” His tone sounded weary, but I knew it had more to do with the situation than actual fatigue as I sat down next the table that now held the candies.

“Yaoyao was talking to her about the ways that Valentine’s day was celebrated. I think she decided she wanted to make something after their conversation but then didn’t really know what to do with all of it so she gave some of them to us. She’s giving the others to Yaoyao,” I explained calmly, wondering how long it would take for him to give in and just accept the chocolates.

After all, I wasn’t going to be the only one pushing him about this.

“Surely just one wouldn't hurt?” Changsheng’s tone was almost judgemental as she looked at the doctor and I didn’t even bother to hide my smile as he shot her a look. It wasn’t common for Baizhu to get annoyed with his serpent friend, but it seldom failed to be amusing when it did happen since it was almost always over something like this.

“Did you know that dark chocolate is a very good source of antioxidants?” Baizhu looked my way as soon as I spoke, a smile slipping onto his face at my words. But they were true, and he knew it.

“Yes, but if over-indulged in they can lead to a myriad of health issues,” His eyebrows lifted and crossed his slender arms as he responded. Automatically picking up on my change of tactics and not falling for it.

I nodded agreeably though, humming slightly as I picked up a candy and looked at it carefully. After just a bit of practice Qiqi had picked up on how to shape and powder the candies quickly. And though she wouldn’t remember doing so later, I really did feel like she’d enjoyed herself in her own quiet way, and I knew Yaoyao would be ecstatic to receive such a gift.

And even if he wasn’t admitting it, Baizhu was too. It was just that he tried very hard to follow the same diet he prescribed to so many of his patients.

“So can overdoing medicine and other foods.” I glanced over, meeting Baizhu’s stare before I held the little candy out to him with a smile, “Balance is important for health and life in general. I know you know that, Baizhu.”

I tilted my head as he sighed, seemingly accepting his defeat even as I continued, “One or two pieces aren’t going to hurt you.”

He was smiling at me in an almost rueful manner as he plucked the chocolate from my fingers, surrendering easily just like I’d known he would when I first came into the room. Baizhu could certainly be stubborn about matters pertaining to health, but he was also pretty bad to indulge both me and Qiqi and could be quite reasonable.

He smiled down at the chocolate, chuckling slightly and shaking his head, “I suppose you're right.” He popped the candy into his mouth, humming to himself and nodding as he quickly finished and looked my way, with a proud smile, “She did a good job.”

I felt my smile widen before I nodded, agreeing with him, “She picked up on how to make it very quickly, and I think she enjoyed herself too.”

I watched as his gaze softened and he nodded, smiling more to himself than anyone else now, “Good.”

Changsheng watched him before letting out a sigh and shaking her head before looking my way, “You know, the balance of things goes two ways.”

Both of us now looked at the snake whose eyes stayed on me as she continued, “Too little of something can be detrimental to one’s health too.”

I nodded slowly, agreeing with her, but wondering where she was going with this even as I popped a candy of my own into my mouth. We’d already been victorious in getting Baizhu to accept his chocolate.

“I guess you're like that for Baizhu. If you’re away too long then he becomes useless.” Changsheng’s nonchalant words had me sputtering as I barely managed to swallow the chocolate without choking.

I looked over, wide-eyed, at Baizhu who looked just as startled as I was, if a little mortified while Changsheng continued to gaze at me with a now smug expression.

“We don’t actually know if it goes the other way yet. It seems like it's impossible for him to overindulge in your presence, though he does get distracted some-”

“That’s QUITE enough Changsheng!” Baizhu interrupted hurriedly, causing the snake to look his way in an almost indignant manner. She didn’t get to snap back, though, since he continued in a scolding tone even though he himself was most definitely flustered, “You’re going to make them uncomfortable.”

Chengsheng let out an unimpressed hiss, sliding down from his shoulders and to the ground before making for the door. Only pausing to look back at us over her shoulder, “Suit yourself. But you’ll have to talk about it sooner or later, otherwise we’ll have to start conducting studies to see if there is such a thing as too much of Y/n for you.”

She slid out the door before he could say anything back while I sat, dumbfounded in the chair.

Silence fell heavy between us until Baizhu at last recovered, letting out an awkward cough and gesturing to the side with an uncharacteristically inelegant smile, “Tea?”

#Genshin Impact imagines #Baizhu x reader #Genshin Impact Baizhu #Genshin Impact x reader #Genshin x reader #Genshin #Baizhu #gender neutral reader #valentines day fic #valentines day #fluff #implied romance #sfw #it-happened-one-fic #mywritings #Genshin impact #Baizhu x you #Baizhu x y/n #Genshin Impact x you #Genshin Impact x y/n #Genshin x you #Genshin x y/n #Liyue #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

[bobfloydsbabe]

rose blush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: Professor Bob has a special surprise for his TA on Valentine's Day.

WARNINGS: fluff, allusions to smut, age gap (mid 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, brief mention of past relationships. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 1k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

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SPECIAL THANKS to @laracrofted who said Professor Bob gives off strong Valentine's Day vibes. I had to agree, even if his deliciously grumpy ass would deny it. So, enjoy a candlelit bubble bath with our favorite professor. Thank you, Ames!

“Robert Floyd, you didn’t.”

They’ve already had an amazing dinner at a restaurant with red wine and delicious pasta, and now he’s only gone and done this.

“I didn’t,” he whispers in her ear, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. “The hotel staff did.”

She smacks his arm, but can’t fight the grin spreading across her face. The filled bathtub stands in front of them with lit candles all around the edge and rose petals sprinkled over the bubbly water. An ice bucket with champagne and two glasses sits on a tray straddling the edges of the tub, and her heart sings for this man.

It’s hard to believe where they started compared to where they are now. They still argue, still have to pretend they don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off all the time, still have to make people believe their relationship is only that of professor and teaching assistant. It’s hard to keep up, and she knows that’s why he booked them a hotel outside the city. Valentine’s Day weekend no less. He’s being romantic.

“Go on,” he breathes against her skin.

She turns in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, and rises to her toes. “You’re coming with me.”

He chuckles and pecks her lips. “Wasn’t even up for debate, baby.”

He slides one of the thin straps off her shoulder, leans down to kiss her collarbone. A shiver runs down her spine, and a breathy laugh tickles her skin. He knows what he’s doing when he pulls the other strap down, too.

With a few tugs, the dress falls in a pool of red fabric on the bathroom floor. The professor’s eyes travel the expanse of her body with a hungry look, like he’s ready to devour her.

She feels powerful. Seductive.

Stepping closer, he lifts a hand and runs his finger along the underside of her breast while keeping his eyes locked on hers. She shivers as his fingertip grazes her nipple, and it pebbles immediately.

She holds her breath, but can’t fight the shiver running through her. It makes the professor smile in a way that makes him look younger, and he leans down to kiss her. Gentle but hungry. Possessive.

“The water’s gonna get cold,” she reminds him.

“Right,” he whispers, leaning back a little. “Let’s get these off you.” He reaches for her panties and carefully drags the red lace down her legs. At a quick tap to her ankle, she steps out of them and Bob tosses them aside.

Rising from the floor, he offers his hand for balance as she steps in and she takes it, still amazed by the size difference.

As she sinks beneath the surface of the water, letting herself be engulfed by bubbles and rose petals, Bob undresses. She watches as he sheds his clothing, and she’ll never tire of looking at him or that surprisingly lean body he hides. If all the students who have a crush on him knew what Imogen does, they would lose their minds.

But she’s not willing to share.

He joins her in the water and reaches for the chilled champagne, pouring a glass for each of them.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Imogen,” he says, voice deep and rumbly. Hearing him say her name makes her stomach flip, even all these months later.

She clinks her glass against his. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She tips the glass back, enjoying the way it fizzles down her throat. When she puts her glass down, Bob’s watching her with a burning look in his eyes.

Cocking her head to the side, she narrows her eyes. “What?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Come here,” he mutters into the quiet room, his voice bouncing off the tiled walls.

With a smile, she glides through the water until she’s straddling his thighs, arms around his neck. He leans forward and captures her lips in a demanding kiss.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just kissing each other and being close, but she feels the moment he gets aroused.

She pulls back with a grin, fingers playing with the damp hair at his nape. “I knew shower sex was your thing, but bath sex too? You’re ready anywhere, huh, Professor?”

His arms tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, and their foreheads press together. “I don’t do this.”

She frowns, pulling back. “What, bath sex? I was joking.”

He looks up at her. His cheeks have flushed from the heat in the room and the alcohol coursing through his system, and he looks almost nervous. “No,” he says, and she hears the hesitation in his voice. “I don’t do this.” He gestures at the champagne, the bathtub, and maybe even the hotel room.

“Take women on Valentine’s dates?”

He shakes his head. “Never.”

Her brows shoot up. “Ever?”

“Ever,” he confirms.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Now he looks almost offended. “I’ve had girlfriends,” he tells her. “It just never lasted very long.”

She goes quiet, and silence hangs heavy in the air. Only the faint sound of bubbling champagne and flickering flames from the lit candles fill the room.

He takes a deep breath. “Does that scare you?”

She comes back to herself, eyes meeting his again. “No,” she says, voice quiet at first. “I’m just confused.”

“Confused?”

“Robert, you’re a catch,” she says, tugging on his hair gently. “You’re attractive, successful, and romantic when you want to be.”

“I don’t want to be romantic,” he says, hands travel down her back.

Leaning forward, she kisses him passionately while his hands find her ass in the water and pull her closer to him. Her cunt grazes his erection, and she gasps into his mouth.

“Too late for that, Professor,” she mutters, voice light and breathless. “Because this is pretty damn romantic.”

His hands knead her ass as his lips leave open-mouthed kisses all over her neck, his tongue tasting her skin. “I’ll show you romantic.”

He makes good on that promise.

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TAGLIST: @joaquinwhorres, @attapullman, @bobgasm, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @kmc1989, @rosie-posie08, @auroraseddie, @bcarolinablr, @cremebruleequeen, @sio-ina-bottle, @roosterforme, @sweetwhispersofchaos, @bluezraven, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @bradshawsbaby, @hangmandruigandmav, @xoxabs88xox, @seitmai, @cherrycola27, @keyrani, @millieb-3199, @solo-pitstop-vibes

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd smut #valentines day fic #valentines fic #tgm fic #top gun maverick fic #eccentric professor bob #professor bob #fic: gold rush #oc: imogen van doren #otp: bob x imogen #helena writes #mywriting #writtenbyme #madebyme #my writing #helenawrites #lewis pullman

[emotionalmotionsicknessxx]

Belated Valentine's Day Drabble

Erik/Christine, Meg POV, Fluffy as I get

"What a tragedy this is."

Meg crossed her arms as she considered the scene. Erik stood, sleeves rolled to the elbows, in the kitchen of his modest apartment. There was a considerable amount of flour in the mixing bowl in front of him. There was considerably more on his face and shirt.

“Don’t.” He said, lips pressed together in a thin line below his mask.

“I wasn’t going to,” She said, stifling the laugh and swallowing it. “This looks very...good.”

“Meg Giry, you are a terrible liar.”

“But a wonderful friend,” she piped in, traversing the tile floor in an attempt to see what, exactly, had gone wrong in the kitchen. “So I assume the soufflé was a bust?”

“They can be very touchy, yes,” he said, trying to dust the worst of the flour from his once-black shirt. “The humidity isn’t helping.”

“Erik, it’s February,” Meg reminded him. “And...” She pointed to the oven clock. “Your date will be here in an hour.”

It had been several years since her mother had called her asking for a favor; that her friend’s son needed a place to stay when he was in the city. She had said no, obviously - she wasn’t some pervert who was about to let some random man traipse around in her determinedly feminine space and get beard hair in the sink and God-knew what else. But then Erik had arrived three days later with the proof that her mother had ignored her wishes, and he was soaked through from the rain like some horrifying, sopping wet cat, and she could not leave him out there and the rest was history.

It was not a roommate situation that was without flaws; he was a composer, among many things, and this meant listening to the same three notes be plunked out in varying tempos until she thought her ears would bleed; he did leave the seat up, to her chagrin; and he was horrifyingly, constantly, simply always:

There.

She woke up, he was there, making coffee and beginning the same insipid melody. She got home from work, he was still there, several half-drunk beverages on the coffee table. She fell asleep to the sound of his tinkering at the keys, or typing away on his disturbingly out of date white MacBook, which seemed to have been modified to recreate the sounds of typewriter keys.

It was a day, not unlike this one, where she came home from a particularly challenging day of navigating the donors of the city opera AND her increasingly boundary-less boss, that she came home, soaked in a sheen of sweat from the packed train and bus, to find her kitchen upended, and Erik crouched in an unnatural way in front of her tiny oven. She had opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.

“Silence,” he said. “We need silence.”

She nodded, not bothering to ask why, or for how long, or for what reason. She tiptoed around the counter, only to find her socks soaked through in the dribs and drabs of thick batter, cold and squishing between her toes. She nearly gagged, but did not break her silence until she saw, with horror, every single plate, cup, and kitchen tool in the sink. On top of the soapy water poked out her KitchenAid, the bowl still attached to the mixer now sodden and submerged, the wire cheerfully greeting her from the suds.

“ERIK!”

The soufflé deflated that day, and the KitchenAid got thrown out, and Meg was determined to get Erik a Date™.

“You don’t have to do all this,” she reminded him as the two cake pans were removed from the oven. “She’s very kind, and I don’t know if they even are sweets people.”

“Who?”

“Christine. Erik, focus,” Meg held back the impulse to snap her fingers. “Do you even know if she likes chocolate?”

It seemed he did not consider this. “Who doesn’t like chocolate?”

“I don’t know, Swedish people?” Meg exclaimed. “Look, all I know is she is very sweet, and works in the costume department of the opera, and no one thinks ill of her, which at the opera is a miracle.”

She did not include that most people called Christine Daae, “odd,” or “always with her head in the clouds” or even “strange.” Erik was using a multitool to ice the cake. He could handle a little strange, especially for a girl who said yes to a first date on Valentine’s Day.

She set about straightening the living room, Erik’s compositions into neater piles. “Remember, don’t dominate the conversation.”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“Erik...” Meg warned. “No composing diatribe. No mansplaining.”

“I don’t mansplain.”

“You are a man, and you ‘plain,” she retorted. “And she works at the opera. She doesn’t need to hear you explain Puccini, she knows things.”

She stood, the living room straightened, the candles less...scattered, to see Erik, covered in flour and now icing, standing in the decimated kitchen. She sighed.

A shower, a brisk cleaning of a kitchen that would not hold up to her mother’s scrutiny, and one intercom buzz later, Meg was smuggling her take-out to her room with a blown kiss to a very startled, very rigid Erik. Every candle and then some illuminated the area around the piano, and Meg prayed to any God that would listen that he wouldn’t come on too strong. She crossed her fingers for good measure, and retreated.

That night, the tinkling of piano keys woke her to the most beautiful music. She fell back asleep to it, her dreams colored by the placid joy of the new composition.

She found him alone in the kitchen, standing over the espresso machine.

“So...it went well?” She asked, wriggling her shoulders.

Erik looked up at her, as though startled out of a reverie. “Yes, very well, in fact. We are getting married!”

Meg blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

#myfic #erik/christine #phic #nonsense #valentines day fic

[dwtdog]

my love

dnf

rated T, 8k words

mutual pining, shopping trips, and patches' birthday

#dnf #dreamnotfound #valentines day fic #cq.writing

[ilwonuu]

hi! i love your writing sm! can you write smth for sunwoo from the boyz pretty please, like just anything fluff <3 🤭

yes yes i love the boyz sm!!! let me know who your bias is🤭 (dummy probably sunwoo) guess mine!!! i have multiple…lmfao okay anyways i hope you enjoy thank you for your request MYLOVE

.★ love me ★.

→ kim sunwoo.

⚞ summary- you go night swimming with your boyfriend.

⚞ warnings-a couple kisses, they’re in their bathing suits, affection, they are very flirty, love talk(cue wayv), they say the L word( not lesbian!!!),lmk what else

⚞ author’s note- happy late valentines day!!! ily all lmk what u thought of this and the new theme💖

you and your boyfriend don’t always break the rules together. but tonight was very different. though you were only break into the hotel pool after hours. not that much of a crime. you and sunwoo were nervous.

he leads the way to the pool you quietly leading behind him. “there’s no one lets go.” he says before grabbing your hand opening the door to the indoor/outdoor pool. “wow its big in here.” he nods quickly taking off his shirt jumping into the pool. he waves you in shortly after. “come on babe its feels nice in here. i want to kiss you.” he pouts. you comply quickly taking off your clothes over your swimsuit.

walking over to the pool getting in slowly. you are trying to ease your way in as slow as need but sunwoo is pretty impatient. he tugs your arm foward so you fall face first in the pool.

he looks so handsome. his hair not falling in his face as much. tan skin against the lights of the pool. he always looks beautiful but he especially does in the moment. you never want it to end. remembering to give him a playful response

“sunwoo. you are mean.” you pretend to cry. he doesn’t even begin to fall for your fake acts. “come here babe.” he says in low whisper you swim over to him.

he is now looking down at you. he pulls your face up closer to his. “hi.” you say nervously. “hi baby.” he chuckles at your nervous state. “your hair looks cute all messy and wet like this.” he smiles rubbing your hair around softly.

you roll your eyes at his actions but you are used to it by now. you pucker your lips at your boyfriend suddenly. him immediately responding, kissing your lips a couple of times. “so cute.” he gives you one big kiss on the forehead. you make a fake gag noise splashing him shortly after.

“you’re annoying.” he splashes you gently. “i love you tho.”

“i love you woo.” he pulls you against his chest. facing him directly. “so pretty.” he pulls you into a gentle kiss.

you melt into his lips for a moment pulling away. he just smiles at you. splashes you one more time before swimming away from you.

#the boyz #sunwoo #sunwoo the boyz #the boyz sunwoo #sunwoo fic #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz fluff #sunwoo scenarios #i love sunwoo #valentines day #happy valentines #valentines day fic #happy valentine's day

[f1nalboys]

Be My Valentine? - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 722

WARNINGS: none unless u want me to count sickly sweet love :3 maybe ooc bo bc he's being a nice silly sweet fella in this but its my writing and i decided he deserves to be happy so....sue me. not super proofread either <3

“Now what the hell is all this?” Bo’s voice pulls you from your haze of determination, looking up from the cookie you were currently icing. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mechanics suit half off, undershirt covered in sweat, watching you with both amusement and confusion. You glance around the room and give him a sheepish smile; you hadn’t realized how big of a mess you had made. The ingredients from the cookies, brownies, and icing were strewn over every available surface and, as you look down at the apron you were wearing (which was one you had bought Bo last time you had gone into town,) you realize you were as well.

Shrugging your shoulders you look back down at the last cookie, trying to finish it up. “Making Valentine's day desserts, what’s it look like?” He huffs and you bite back a smile as you hear him stomp towards you. He wasn’t mad; you’ve gotten good at knowing when Bo was upset with you and when he was cautiously curious. “Don’t look! I’m almost done with this, go have a brownie.”

“You made brownies?”

“Mhm, extra chocolate for Vincent and white chocolate drizzled for Les. Don’t touch those, eat the ones I have on the stove.” Bo lets out a soft ‘hmph!’ noise but follows your orders anyways, steering clear of the packaged brownies and cookies you had put to the side. “And be careful! They’re hot.”

“I kill people and you think imma be hurt by a brownie?” Bo questions, voice light, and you can hear the smile in it. It’s followed by an immediate hiss and the sound of the tap running. “Don’t fuckin’ say a word,” And his sheer conviction and knowledge that you do, in fact, want to say that you had told him has you giggling. It’s a snort and then another one, louder, and he’s sighing, and then you laugh again, harder and louder this time and then he’s joining in.

Two months ago Bo wouldn’t have been able to laugh at himself, would have taken your lightheartedness as a sign of you laughing at him, and would have thrown a fit. But now? Now he stands with you in the kitchen, his back to yours, laughing in the shared space. He can feel the love you have for him seep into his lungs with every intake of breath, can feel it under his fingertips when he turns around and squeezes your hips with his hand and pulls you into him in an attempt to calm himself from the laughing fit. 

He can feel it when you look back towards him and kiss him softly, far softer than he ever thought he deserved. 

He can see it when you pull away and look him in the eye with a small smile, when you don’t cringe away from his touch or his looks or his affection. Bo kisses you again and rests his head onto your shoulder. “So, what were ya’ doing that was soooo important?”

“This.” You pull your hand back and he snorts; it was a crude drawing of the two of you (stick figures holding hands, Bo’s having a blue hat, of course) done in icing with the words ‘be my val?’ written on it. You can feel his chest rumble with a small laugh. “Don’t laugh, I did my best! I was gonna write out ‘Be my Valentine?’ on individual cookies but I didn’t have enough so I took the biggest cookie off the tray and did this!”

“It’s beautiful, can’t believe I’m livin’ with a Monet.” Bro says with a smirk. “I mean, damn! Vinny’s gonna be out of a job!”

“Stooop!”

You push against him slightly, grinning, but he holds you tighter. Closer. “I love it.” His voice is soft in your ear and when you look over at him he’s staring down at the cookie, at the shakily-done drawing of you and he holding hands, and he’s letting himself smile. He’s letting himself be loved. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bo. You didn’t answer my question, though.” He looks over at you with a raised eyebrow and you motion your head down at the cookie. “Be my Val?”

He breaks out into another smile and kisses you. “Of course I’ll be your Val, darlin’.”

#f1nalboys works #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #valentines day fic #heheh #slasher x y/n

[make-me-imagine]

Cheers To Us

Plot: After returning to London after a case, Sherlock decides to make up for some lost time.

Prompts: 'Making the reader a romantic dinner as a surprise' + 'Valentines Picnic' and 'Surprise reunion on Valentines Day' + 'Valentines Day proposal'

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous; @anilynworlds & @will-grammer

Warnings: Use of Y/n multiple times

Words: 1.7k

A/n: Valentines Day at this time wasn't celebrated as much as it is now. Usually just with cards and maybe flowers.

-

As Sherlock walked down the streets of London, arriving back after spending a little over week in the countryside on a case, his mind was on you. He was aware of the fact he had not been spending much time with you before he left on this case, and then he was gone for a few days longer than intended. He missed you.

Fearing you may think he is neglecting your relationship, he wanted it make it up to you. But, he needed to decide how. A gift, a day out, dinner, something more?

Stopping in his tracks as some women came out of a shop ahead of him, his eyes dropped to the papers in their hands. Frilly, seemingly handmade cards.

Suddenly it clicked in his mind what time of year it was. Valentines Day. The holiday had becoming more popular in London in the last couple years, but he had never paid it any mind. But now that he was in a relationship, perhaps he should.

As he looked into the shop, seeing various gifts, and flowers, he smiled softly as he entered the store. He may not be able to get back the time with you he missed out on, but perhaps he could create a special memory in its place.

After acquiring some flowers, Sherlock continued on his way down the street. Looking to his left as he passed another shop, he felt himself stopping again. This time, his eye was stuck on an engagement ring displayed in the window.

It was very you, it was perfect actually.

As he move towards the entrance, he stopped again, becoming aware of what he was doing. It was so natural, there was no hesitation, no second thought.

He felt his heart begin hammering in his chest as he thought more about it. Proposing to you, marrying you. Looking back at the ring in the window, Sherlock found himself smiling at the thought.

Why hadn't he thought about it before? The two of you never really talked about marriage, but he was aware you two acted like a married couple in many ways already. You had been considering moving in to 221B after Sherlock mentioned it a few weeks back. You were there so often you might as well live there.

After another short moment of thought, Sherlock stepped into the shop, with much more on his mind than before.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Opening the note you received from the carrier, your heart was beating excitedly. You recognized Sherlock's handwriting immedietely and you were eager to learn what he had to say.

'Dear Y/n, I've returned to London and I would like to have dinner with you. Tonight, seven o'clock. Tenderly, Sherlock.'

Though the message was a bit shorter than you had hoped, you were still excited at the idea of having dinner with him. You had not known when he would be able to return to London, and you feared it would be another week. It had seemed like forever since you last seen him, let alone spent time with him alone.

Checking the clock, you realized you still had a few hours to kill before seven. Hopefully it would go by quickly. Until then, you could decide what to wear.

After eagerly and impatiently waiting for the time to come, you finally made your way to Sherlock's apartment. Exiting the taxi, you smiled as you made your way quickly to his door.

Taking a breath before knocking, you felt an excited flutter in your chest.

As the door swung open, Sherlock's smiling face came into view.

"Y/n right on time." He greeted as he stepped forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Welcome back, I missed you." You said with a smile as Sherlock smiled down at you.

"Thank you. I missed you as well." He said softly as he gently caressed your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered closed as a warm tingle washed over you.

After pulling away, he held open the door for you to enter, where he quickly helped you to take off your jacket.

"How did your case go?" You asked with true curiosity.

Sherlock let out a soft sigh "It was a bit tedious at times, but I wrapped it up fairly easily." Looking around his apartment he cleared his throat a little. "I'm sorry for the mess."

Looking around you smiled, it was actually a lot cleaner than normal. There were still papers, reports, evidence and case boards everywhere, with no clean table in sight, but there was much more order to it than usual.

As you looked around more, you spotted in the middle of the apartment, something you were surprised you had missed.

A blanket was placed in the middle of the room with candles, flowers, plates and drinking glasses.

You let out a soft chuckle as you approached, understanding that this was the dinner Sherlock had invited you for.

Sherlock stood beside you looking down at it with a gaze of uncertainty.

You looked over at him and he shrugged his head slightly "I wanted to surprise you with dinner, but with the cooking, I had...forgotten to clear off the dining table. But, I thought this might do?"

You smiled, amused and touched. Kissing him on the cheek briefly you let out a soft giggle

"It's lovely Sherlock. It's like a picnic!"

"A picnic? Yes I suppose it is." He said with mild amusement. "Please, sit." He gestured at a plump pillow he had set on the floor for you.

As you sat down he crouched down, grabbing the flowers and handing them to you "For you."

You grinned as you took them, smelling them. "They're amazing Sherlock, thank you."

"You are very welcome."

As he made his way into his kitchen, you watched him with an adoring and amused smile as he moved around the kitchen with an almost uncharacteristic clumsiness.

"Can I help?"

"No no, it's fine." He said hurriedly as he began bringing over various plates and dishes of food.

You could tell there was much on his mind, and it made you wonder if it was all about this dinner, or if he was worried about something else.

As he sat down dish after dish you felt a growing amount of awe. Meat, vegetables, potatoes, breads.

"Wow Sherlock this is honestly a lot more than I was expecting. Actually I thought we would be going out, but this is so much more...intimate, and sweet."

Sherlock smiled with a bit of pride as he brought over some water and drinks. "I'm glad you approve."

As he sat down you leaned in a little. "Can I ask though. What is the occasion? As it seems a bit..."

"Out of character?" He finished.

You shrugged your head "A little."

He cleared his throat lightly "I am aware that we have not been able to spend much time together recently. So I wanted to make up for that, and, I was made aware this morning that it is Valentines Day, so I thought, it would also be something we might, celebrate?"

"Valentines Day, I forgot about that." You chuckled "I suppose it is a good excuse to be a bit more romantic. And as for making up for anything there is no real need Sherlock. Yes, I did notice we have not been seeing that much of each other, but I do understand your work is very important, I hope you didn't think I had ill will towards you because of it?"

Sherlock smiled at this as he shook his head softly "No, I didn't. But I did have some towards myself. You're the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time, I don't wish to neglect that. I suppose I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

You smiled brightly at him and he felt his chest clench.

"I do know Sherlock."

"Good."

Adjusting himself as he patted his pocket, he cleared his throat again "There is something else, I got for you."

"A gift?" You asked with light surprise "You didn't have to get me anything Sherlock."

He smiled "I know. And it's more of a...request, than a gift."

Feeling a sudden nervousness wash over you, you swallowed "A request?"

Reaching into his pocket, you eyes darted from his hand to his face as your heart started to pound.

"I wasn't aware of just how much I wanted to ask you, until I saw this in a shop window."

Pulling out a small black box, your breath caught in your throat. You said nothing until you were sure what he was about to ask. You would hate to make a fool of yourself, only to be greeted with something else.

As he opened the lid of the small box, and your eyes landed on a ring, your chest tightened and your breath hitched.

"I thought it was very, you."

He was right. It was perfect.

"Sherlock..." You trailed off into a whisper.

Sherlock smiled softly "I love you Y/n. I adore you. And I don't think I could think of anything more perfect than spending my life with you."

"I- I never thought you were interested in marriage." You admitted, aware your eyes were becoming a little hazy.

"I didn't think I was either. Until you. And now I know, that I want nothing more than to marry you. Do you wish to marry me?"

You grinned as you nodded your head eagerly "Yes, I do Sherlock."

His smile widened as you replied. Taking the ring out, he took your hand and slid it onto your finger. It was a bit big, but he could get it resized quickly.

As your eyes locked, you got to your knees and leaned across the dinner setting. Sherlock leaned forward as well, as you placed your hands on his face. He cupped your cheek as you kissed.

Pulling away a few moments later Sherlock couldn't remove his eyes from you as you continued to have a smile plastered on your face. You admired the ring, and Sherlock could tell he chose it perfectly.

Pouring you a drink, he rose his own glass in the air "To us?"

You grinned as you lifted your glass and tapped it against his own "To us."

xx End xx

I think I like this? lol I'm not positive, but I hope you like it too.

Reblogs are always appreciated~ :)

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Cavil!Sherlock Taglist: @will-grammer, @multifandomfix-recs, @readingbookelf, @writerfulltime,

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#sherlock holmes #cavil!sherlock holmes #enola holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #cavil!sherlock holmes x reader #enola holmes imagine #sherlock holmes imagine #enola!sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #valentines 2023 #valentines day fic #sherlock holmes x gn!reader #enola holmes oneshot #enola holmes one shot #sherlock holmes fic #sherlock holmes oneshot