#he does his stupid little smile and i melt into a puddle

[etherealspacejelly]

data: *does literally anything*

me: 🥺🥺😭😭🥺💞💞🥺my babyyyyy😭🥺💞🥺😭💞😭🥺😭😭💞

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: woozi

grumpy x sunshine trope

'how can a heart like yours even love a heart like mine?'

'will it kill you to smile a little?'

jihoon's eyebrow twitches but that's all reaction he gives. whenever people try to get a rise out of him, the most they receive is an annoyed huff or dramatic eye roll, so eyebrow twitch is something new; i'm widening my arsenal, jihoon thinks, watching his classmates walk away. he almost opens his mouth to retort something sarcastic and beat his personal record, when he hears it. the only sound that instantly soothes his anger and makes him melt into a puddle as jeonghan says - sound of your laughter.

it rings in his ears as the most perfect melody and jihoon can get so easily embarrassed about many things, but his utter devotion and love towards you is not one of them. corners of his lips stretch to the sides on their own, his body moves like he's not the one possessing it - one second and he's already up, moving to the door, wanting to see you. with each step he takes, the louder your laughter gets and he wants to see it, wants to witness the most beautiful picture you paint with your head thrown back, eyes shut and hands somewhere in the air, gestucilating wildly. one step, two - he reaches hallway just in time to see you wiping away tears from your eyes, still smiling brightly. happiness surrounds you like a halo, its glow soft and bright at the same time, calling for jihoon to come closer.

'i can't believe it! and what did she- oh, jihoon! hi!'

it shouldn't be possible, but your smile grows even wider at the sight of him and his heart does this really not funny thing in his chest when it stops and does stupid somersault of some sort. it's all a bit hard to believe if he's being honest; the way you immediately focus your attention on him, how you choose him over other people, him. jihoon is not a fan of putting himself down, but he knows himself very well, is very aware of where he stands on social staircase especially in comparison to other cool kids. he knows he's grumpy, knows that many find him antisocial or unfriendly, knows he's not someone who can hold attention of others very well, he knows. those are all facts, plain truths along with him being closed off, shy, painfully ordinary. that's why it's hard to believe that someone like you - a sunshine in human form - prefers his company the most.

'where have you been?' you ask him and then jokingly push at his shoulder. 'i was looking everywhere for you.'

you should know. you should know what these words do to him because how can you not? jihoon thinks he's bad at hiding his feelings, is pretty sure that hearts in his eyes when he looks at you are too big for anyone not to notice. 'i didn't want to go, so i was waiting here.'

you frown and your frown only deepens, when passing by guy shouts: 'he's a party pooper, what did you expect?'. it doesn't really hurt jihoon, weirdly enough. he understands general confusion of others regarding him and you. how can such a sunshine be with such a grumpy guy? what do they have in common?

'ignore,' jihoon says, knowing that you're about to snap back. your attention is a gift and he wants it on himself, not on some irrelevant guys. 'how did everything go? you're happy?'

you smile, nodding. 'it was so nice, i have so much to tell you!'

'that's great,' jihoon gently takes your bag away from your hands and with even more gentleness takes your hand in his. 'tell me all about it during lunch? my treat.'

your smile softens and you get this bashful look on your face that he adores. 'it's always your treat.'

'mhm,' jihoon hums noncommittally. 'and it's always going to be. let's go?'

your hand grips his a bit tighter and jihoon sighs in satisfaction, when you sway closer to him so your shoulders are brushing. 'let's go!'

this is what matters in the end - your hand in his, your smile directed to him, your quiet 'i missed you' whispered somewhere between his neck and shoulder. not what others say or think, but your sparkling eyes and loud 'you're the best, jihoonie'. jihoon doesn't mind being grumpy if he has sunshine like you by his side.

a/n: offf, this is kinda rough, isn't it? coming back from hiatus is hard, people, but hopefully this is not very disappointing. anyways, i'm starting new series, hoping for support from you :') - nini

all my other works can be found here

[runninriot]

written for today's @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event ☀️

Heat of the Moment

prompt: summer | wc: 1000 | rated: T | no cw | tags: Eddie has a crush on Steve, pining, Steve's 'stupid tiny swim shorts' deserve their own tag, (implied) friends to lovers | also on ao3

Eddie wipes a hand over the back of his neck, regrets it instantly when his palm comes back wet.

    Gross.

His hair is sticking to his forehead and no matter how little he moves, his body betrays him, wants to drown him in sweat.

It’s too fucking hot.

And Steve isn’t helping. He’s the reason for a different kind of heat wave just by lying there in these stupid tiny swim shorts, no shirt. Unfairly fucking beautiful, even in this unbearable heat, just blissfully existing.

Eddie is going to melt into a puddle on the floor if he doesn’t stop staring at him. If he doesn’t stop following the droplets running down his neck. He’d lick them right off, if he could. Would follow their trail down to where they collect in Steve’s glorious chest hair. Would swipe his tongue through the little rivulet that has formed in the groove between his abs, wouldn’t stop there.

    God.

It’s really not fair. How can someone look so good in this heat?

Steve always looks good. That’s why Eddie loves him. Or it’s one of the reasons. He has a thing for pretty boys, sue him! He wished it was different, too, but oh well.

The real tragedy is that Steve doesn’t know because he wouldn’t care – or worse. And Eddie really should stop staring if he wants to keep his little secret.

Steve is side-eyeing him when he stands up from where he was lying on his deck chair, his bronze skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat, glistening in the golden afternoon sun.

   “You good, Munson?”

Eddie swallows thickly, nods.

   “Want a beer?”

Another nod because Eddie doesn’t trust himself not to let out an embarrassing whimper if he dares to open his mouth.

Those shorts should be illegal.

It takes everything for Eddie to hold Steve’s gaze, to give him a polite smile in thanks for his offer, when his eyes are begging to drop down to where clingy fabric does shit all to hide Steve’s... form.

Steve thankfully seems unfazed by Eddie’s sudden inability to talk, just shrugs and walks inside, which – to Eddie’s blessing and misery – offers a whole other view that would send Eddie over the edge if he hadn’t at least one tiny bit of dignity left in him.

That. Ass.

    Jesus.

How is Eddie even allowed to exist in the same sphere as this perfection of a man?

And how is he supposed to ever get over his goddamn crush if Steve keeps inviting him over to spend time together, just the two of them, alone in this big ass house with no one around to save Eddie from his own dangerous mind, no one to keep him in check?

Had anyone told him he’d be spending the summer hanging around in Steve’s backyard, being served beer by the man himself, who’s walking around in these godforsaken shorts – Eddie would’ve laughed.

But now that it’s reality, all he can do is gawk and wonder and try not to lose his mind when Steve walks back out, two beers in one hand, the other outstretched to where Eddie is sitting.

   “Let’s sit by the pool, cool down a bit. Your face is so red, I don’t want you to have a heat stroke.”

    Oh god.

Eddie hesitantly takes Steve’s hand, lets himself be pulled up, hopes Steve doesn’t mind how sweaty his palm is. Hopes he doesn’t notice his staggered breathing, his trembling knees.

Maybe he does have a heat stroke? Maybe that’s the reason why he’s feeling a little dizzy right now.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Steve still hasn’t let go of his hand as he leads him to the pool.

Maybe, the fact that Steve is smiling at him brighter than the sun herself, is what’s making it harder to breathe.

They sit down on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the refreshingly cool water. The bottle in his hand is cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of Steve’s hand he instantly misses, now that it’s gone.

   “Wanna go for a swim?”

The water is nice, perfect to cool down his overheated skin and mind.

Steve is just chilling there, both arms splayed out over the edge, his head tilted back, eyes closed; soaking his body in the water while enjoying the sun on his face. Just minding his own business, not even batting an eye at Eddie who’s awkwardly splashing around, watching the beautiful man from a safe distance.

A distance that’s keeping him from mindlessly swimming over to him, to cage him against the tiles with his arms on either side, one leg slotted between Steve’s, pressing his own wanting body up against the other man’s.

He wants to kiss him so bad.

It’s not the first time that thought hits him but it’s painful every time.

    Fucking hell.

Eddie closes his eyes, groans in frustration over his stupid heart’s stupid fluttering. What a waste of time and energy to pine after someone so far out of reach.

Eddie takes a deep breath before he dives down. Lets his body sink deeper into the pool until his toes reach the ground before he resurfaces with a loud gasp.

When he opens his eyes again, Steve is suddenly right there, right in front of him, smiling his pretty smile.

And then he reaches out, fingers playing with a rogue curl before tugging it back behind his ear.

Eddie feels like the water around him is boiling, feels too hot again now that Steve is so close.

So close, Eddie could easily reach out to pull him in and-

   “I want to kiss you.”

It is Steve who reveals Eddie’s secret back to him. It’s not a question; he’s stating a fact – unashamed and clear. No talking around it, no shy blush painting his cheeks.

Eddie feels brave, carried away by the heat of the moment.

   “Then what are you waiting for?”

[justauthoring]

TOKYO REVENGERS - SPENDING THE NIGHT OVER FOR THE FIRST TIME

includes: chifuyu matsuno, ken “draken” ryuguji, hakkai shiba, hanma shuji, manjiro “mikey” sano all x fem!reader

CHIFUYU wants to ask you to stay, but doesn’t know how.

The words are at the tip of his tongue, and he hesitates, eyes watching as your figure rushes to gather your things. But... he doesn’t want you to leave. That he knows, and the desperation settles in as it grows closer and closer to it being time for you to leave.

“You... You could stay.”

He’s barely registered he’s said it before he has.

And you pause at his barely uttered words, body freezing as your head turns over your shoulder so your eyes can meet his. You’ve gathered your jacket and bag, the former having only been slipped on over one shoulder.

“Sorry?”

Your voice is light, airy. A warmth to it that still, to this day makes Chifuyu’s heart flutter and his stomach to flood with butterflies because how was it possible you could sound so... inviting? So warm? He feels his insides melt when you talk to him and he just wants to fiddle away into a puddle because he loves hearing your voice so much.

“Stay,” he repeats, forcing down his own nerves and letting the word echo in the silence for a moment before adding; “I’d like you to stay.”

Your bag slips to the floor and you turn, facing Chifuyu properly. “You want me to spend the night?”

He nods, eager.

“Really?”

And there’s bright grin on your face now, slipping off your jacket as you make your way over to him. Chifuyu’s blushing while he nods, still unable to form proper words, face turned beat red at your light teasing, but doesn’t resist when you fall next to him on his bed, giggling. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you admit. “I really didn’t wanna leave.”

Setting a hand on your back, Chifuyu hums; “didn’t want you to leave.”

You giggle, “I’m that great at cuddling, huh?”

And he says so without hesitance, a trace of doubt as he nods down at you; “the best.”

DRAKEN says the words plainly;

“You should just spend the night.”

And the words are so blunt, so matter of fact, that you almost give yourself whiplash as you spin to face him. Wide eyes falling on him as your lips part to say something, but hesitate because you’re not even sure what to say.

Maybe a part of you had hoped he asked, gone super slow while gathering your things, but you hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

“You want me to?” You ask softly, struggling to find your voice.

Draken nods, “of course. It’s about time.”

You were hoping for a little more but still -- was better then nothing.

“The girls won’t mind?”

He shrugs, “they already love you. It just sucks that we’ll mostly have to hang out in here.” He gestures around himself at his bedroom, a slight pout on his lips as he does.

You grin at that, “that’s what we do most of the time when I visit, Kenny.”

“Yeah, I know. Just sucks.”

Leaning forward, you grab Draken’s hand, squeezing it tightly in your own. “You know I don’t care as long as I get to be with you, Ken,” and then, you pause. Unsure. “You’re positive you want me staying? I don’t want to intrude on your--”

“Stupid,” he huffs lightly, the insult teasing as he smirks, “you’re not intruding if it’s you. Plus, I’m the one who asked you to stay.”

“I know,” you nod, “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Come ‘ere,” he urges, ushering you towards him with a wave of his hand. You listen easily, letting yourself fall into his grip as his hand falls to your back, guiding you on top of his chest as he leans back on his bed. The two of you settle in comfortably then, with Draken’s hand resting on your back. “Been wanting to ask ya for a while.”

“Oh,” you mumble, unable to fight the smile on your lips; “yeah?”

“Yeah. Last time you came over, I wanted to. Got too scared though.”

You think back to how heavily Draken had pouted last time you’d come over and eventually, had to leave. It was unlike Draken to act like that, and you remember it both being endearing but entirely too hilarious to not tease him.

Maybe if you hadn’t teased him, he would’ve asked.

“Sorry,” you offer, letting your hand fall on his chest, next to your head.

“Not your fault,” he dismisses easily, “been wanting to ask for a while. Been to chicken-shit. Glad I got the courage this time though. I... I like having you in my arms.”

“I like being in your arms, Kenny.”

HAKKAI is positive he sounds like a bumbling fool.

“Would... Would you...--I mean, you don’t have to but I would like you--don’t feel pressure though--”

Laughing, you shake your head. Making your way over to Hakkai, you set your hands on his arms, looking up at him as he finally stops his rambling to stare down at you. “Calm down,” you soothe gently, “what is it?”

Red in face and feeling entirely like an idiot, Hakkai huffs.

“I wanted to know if you’d... like to spend the night.”

And his voice is so small, so unsure that it almost breaks your heart how nervous he is to ask you something. Let alone something like that. 

Something you’d never reject.

So, smiling brightly, you grin, eyes twinkling; “I’d love to.”

He blinks at that, as if having already expected a rejection. The embarrassment wipes from his face as his lips part, staring back at you; “really?”

“Of course,” you laugh, “why wouldn’t I?”

Pausing, Hakkai hesitates at that -- because really, why wouldn’t you? It wasn’t like this was the first time you’ve come over to his house and you guys have been dating long enough for something like this to be more normal...

“I dunno,” he admits finally, “just didn’t want you to think you had to.”

“Well, I don’t,” you shrug, letting your hands fall by your side as you grin up at him. “And I’d love to spend the night. Didn’t wanna go home anyways.”

“Oh?” Hakkai frowns, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

You can’t help but feel giddy at his concern, how despite how embarrassed and nervous he was seconds ago, it all faded away the second he thought something might be wrong. It warmed your heart in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever expected before.

“Everything’s totally fine,” you assure him, “I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

And of course, Hakkai’s face goes beat red, again, at that.

HANMA finds the morphed expression of surprise and indignation on your face absolutely hilarious.

“Shu,” you say, voice firm, “let me go.”

Keeping his arms locked firmly around your waist, Hanma simply shakes his head. It didn’t help that he had such long arms, that of which could easily wrap themselves around you entirely, or the fact that he easily had the strength to keep you there as well.

Glaring up at your boyfriend, you huff; “I need to go home. it’s getting late.”

Hanma just shakes his head, a fact that causes you to growl in annoyance, before he grins wide; “just spend the night.”

Pausing, your entire body freezes in his grasp; “what?”

“I don’t want you to leave, so spend the night.”

And it sinks in then.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

The ever say shit-eating grin on his face, Hanma all but cackles, head thrown back in amusement at the fact that you know him so well. “Of course,” he concedes with ease, “never planned on letting you leave. Even if you want to.”

“That’s kidnapping.”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Still kidnapping.”

Quirking a brow, Hanma glances down at you; “you don’t want to spend the night?”

Cheeks warming, you huff; “n-no, I do.” Pouting, you turn your gaze away from him, “you just could’ve asked me first.”

“Y/N/N.”

Turning back to Hanma at the suddenly serious tone of his voice, you pause, concerned.

“Would you like to spend the night?”

Instantly that concern goes right out the window.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Regrettably.”

But both of you know you don’t really mean that.

MIKEY is absolutely confused when he sees you moving to leave.

“What’re you doing?”

Baffled, you turn to Mikey, head tilted; “getting ready to leave?”

And his words make him frown, that ever familiar pout falling on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. He slumps back against his bed like a little kid, and huffs. “I thought you were spending the night.”

It takes you a moment to process what he’s said. And the fact that he says it as if you were the one being crazy here.

Raising a brow, you glance around yourself, trying to collect your thoughts, before turning back to the child you have for a boyfriend. “You never asked me to?”

He just shrugs; “I thought it was obvious.”

“Um, no. It wasn’t.”

He perks up then, as if all was solved now that you knew you just hadn’t (somehow) caught up with the obvious.

“Oh, well, then, perfect.” Turning, he moves to grab the manga the two of you hand been reading together, before facing you once again. “Come on, I wanna see what happens next.”

Shaking your head, you jerk back; “I still need to leave?”

“You’re spending the night,” Mikey says bluntly, “I thought we covered that already.”

“We didn’t,” you huff, letting your bag fall to the ground as you turn to face Mikey fully. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night and I’ll need to let my mom--”

“Oh, yeah,” Mikey agrees, moving to a stand, letting the manga fall back to the bed behind him. “I’ll get you something to wear and you call your mom, okay?”

He grins at you, pecking your cheek softly before moving to his closet, all whilst you continue to stand there like an idiot.

“Y/N?” Mikey calls after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Your mom?”

When you glance back at him, he’s staring back at you expectantly.

It still doesn’t click in what exactly happened even as you fall asleep in Mikey’s arms later that night.

[wikiangela]

you're the sun to me

Buck's in the middle of cooking dinner when there's a knock at the door. Before he can even move or open his mouth to tell his guest to come in, the door is opening, and his boyfriend walks in. Buck grins at him from where he's stirring in the pot, heart swelling just at the sight of him. It's supposed to be just a regular evening, not really a date, just eating dinner together like they try to at least once a week whenever their schedules allow.

"Hey." Tommy says, kicking off his shoes at the door. Buck instantly notices that he has his arm hidden behind his back, and is careful to face Buck at all times as he walks over to him. Huh.

"Hi, Tommy." Buck responds, raising an eyebrow. "What-" he starts, but just as he's about to ask what Tommy's hiding, he's already right next to Buck, spinning him with one hand to press him against the counter, and kissing him hello. Buck instinctively closes his eyes and kisses back, smiling into Tommy's lips. Kissing him is still one of his favorite activities ever, and he doesn't think it's ever going to change.

The kiss is sweet and soft, and way too short, Tommy pulling away way too quickly for Buck's liking. He's about to pout and complain about it, and probably get another delicious, deeper kiss, like usual, but when he opens his eyes, he's a little stunned. Because he finds himself staring into a bouquet of sunflowers, that Tommy's holding up to him in the hand previously hidden behind his back. Oh, okay. That makes sense. Or, does it?

"Um. What's that?" Buck asks dumbly, as if he's never seen flowers before.

"Sunflowers for my sunshine." Tommy responds, a beaming smile on his face. Buck's heart is racing and he thinks he's going to melt into a puddle. He thinks there are tears welling up in his eyes, and he blinks them away, feeling so silly. "Is that... okay?" Tommy asks when Buck's been silent for a minute, still staring at the yellow flowers.

"Of course." Buck whispers, then clears his throat, lifting his eyes to look into Tommy's. "It's just- no one has ever gotten me flowers before."

"Hm. Well, we gotta change that, then. I can buy you flowers all the time. If you want. If you like them." Tommy shrugs, seeming a little self-conscious now, and Buck can't have that. He's wonderful, and always manages to surprise Buck in the best ways possible.

"I do, I really do. It's- it's really nice. Thank you," he says, just amazed. He'd never expect this, he'd never expect he might want this, but now that it's here, now that Tommy bought him flowers, he's actually really touched. It's stupid, it's just flowers. Still, it feels like a big deal. "But why- what's the occasion?"

"No occasion." Tommy looks down at the bouquet in his hand, smiling softly. "I was walking by the market near my house today, and saw these, and they made me think of you," he shrugs again. "So bright and happy and beautiful. Like my Evan." He grins, eyes soft and full of love and adoration, and Buck's face is burning. God, this is silly. It's such a simple gesture, but somehow it's one of the nicest and most thoughtful things a partner has ever done for him. It's sunflowers, the flower of loyalty and adoration, and happiness. And they made Tommy think of him. He called him his sunshine, didn't he? God, he's the sweetest. "To brighten your day, like you brighten my life." Tommy adds so casually, as if it wasn't one of the most beautiful things anyone's ever said to him.

"I love you." Buck sighs, and tries to lean in to kiss Tommy, but there are flowers in the way, still in Tommy's hand, extended to Buck, probably expecting him to take them, but he was too surprised to think about that. He slowly lifts his hand, placing it over Tommy's on the flowers.

"I love you, too, Evan." Tommy responds, smiling fondly. "Now, do you have a vase or something to put them in?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I think I have-" Buck goes to look for a vase, stirring in the pot again on his way. He doesn't stop smiling the rest of the evening. The flowers stand on the kitchen table for weeks, slowly wilting, and when they do, Tommy replaces them. Buck thinks he wants to buy his boyfriend flowers, too, so he does, researching the meanings of specific flowers and their amount. He finds it a good way to show Tommy how exactly he feels when simple words don't seem like enough anymore.

___

Years later, when they stand at the altar about to vow to love each other forever, both of them have little sunflower boutonnieres. Tommy's the one who insisted on the flower being present at their wedding. The dork proclaimed sunflowers their flower, and it's equally silly and adorable. Buck had never given much thought to what his favorite flower might be. Now, the answer is obvious.

[eddiethehunted]

i want you to touch it softly (ao3)

believe it or not, this one isn't a wip, it's COMPLETE! rated: m (to be safe, tbh could probably be rated t) | cw: drug use, horny discussion, eddie has a thing for his hair getting pulled (implied) | wc: 1.6k | robin/vickie mentioned, platonic stobin, mutual pining, steve being into hair care and skincare, idiot4idiot, the usual <3 title from ariana grande 'my hair'

—————

Steve’s curled into a corner of the couch, watching the movie with glazed eyes, his knees drawn up to his chest. Robin’s feeling a little buzzed herself, laying on her side on the other end of the couch, with Eddie sat cross legged on the floor in front of her, scribbling away in a notebook.

Without really thinking much about it, she reaches forward and starts playing with Eddie’s hair. He startles at first, glancing over his shoulder, but she just smiles at him and twirls a curl around her finger and he relaxes, so she doesn’t stop.

“Okay, I have to know,” she says, because really, Eddie’s curls are beautiful, just really dry and frizzy and she’s stoned and nosy and curious. “Is this a perm? Or is it natural?”

Eddie looks offended, shooting her a reproachful look over his shoulder and saying, “It’s natural.”

She nods, twirling a piece around her finger again. She can see Steve on the other end of the couch looking over sulkily. Jealous. She thinks it’s adorable, the way Steve quickly looks away when she glances over at him.

“It’s so crunchy,” Robin says, “how much hairspray do you have in here?”

Another affronted look. “None! I just washed my hair before I came here.”

It’s still a bit damp around the roots, so she knows he’s not lying. She gets her fingers really in it, pulls his head back a little bit, and he makes this weird sound in the back of his throat. It’s something between pleased and irritated, like when you pet a cat that can’t decide if it wants to purr or claw at your hand.

Steve huffs and pretends he’s still watching the movie, but Robin bets he’s jealous as hell right now. He has expressed to Robin several times how badly he wants to be allowed to play with Eddie’s hair but he can’t because that’s weird and guy friends don’t do that and he doesn’t want to make Eddie uncomfortable.

As if Eddie doesn’t melt into a puddle of horny lovesick goo the second Steve so much as brushes against him.

It’s not really her place to tell him how many times Eddie has complained to her about his own pathetic crush, though, so she never does. Just lets them both lament and pine and complain to her about how badly they want each other, and how sad and tragic and woeful their lives are that it’ll never be requited love. Pats Eddie’s shoulder when he covers his face and whisper screams into his hands when Steve walks by wearing those stupid jock shorts and lets Steve lay his head in her lap and whine about Eddie’s arms and his hands and his mouth and—kinda just everything.

(It’s only fair, though. They’ve both heard enough of her salivating over the short skirts Vickie always wears on their dates. And that one low cut shirt she wears that shows off her cute tits. The least she can do is listen, even if it kinda makes her want to bash her head into the wall sometimes.)

Steve likes hair, she knows. Skincare too. He likes products and he understands skin types and hair textures pretty well, considering she’s sure he’s never learnt anything cosmetic-related, at least not formally. He put her on some new shampoo a few months ago and her hair’s never been so soft and healthy and wavy before.

Eddie’s hair is dry. It’s kinda fried, even. It’s brittle and tangled and not really rough to the touch, but definitely not as soft as it could be, and she knows it drives Steve insane. Like, Steve likes Eddie’s hair like it is—she’s sat through way too many sexually frustrated rants about how badly he wants to mess it up—but he knows how to help it, and he wants to, because it’s like, his love language or something.

“Damn. Your hair is dry.” Robin glances sidelong at Steve again, trying to project her thoughts into his mind. “You should use a hair mask or something.”

“Some of us are poor,” Eddie says indignantly, jerking his head away. He scoots closer to Steve’s side of the couch, out of her reach, and glowers at her as he pulls his notes to the other side of the coffee table. “My hair’s fine, thank you very fucking much.”

“I’m poor too, dumbass,” Robin points out. “I just steal Steve’s stuff.”

Steve snorts, letting his head loll back against the back of the couch, his eyelids heavy. He’s been quiet all night—he gets that way sometime when he’s high, just stops talking and sits there, quietly listening to whatever’s going on around him—but he speaks up for the first time in over an hour to mumble, “Not stealing if I’m givin’ it to you.”

“Whatever,” Robin says, waving a hand. “Touch Eddie‘s hair, dude. It’s crispy.”

Eddie shoots a desperate, betrayed look at her, then says to Steve, “I will bite your hand off, Steve.”

“Mhm, bet you will,” Steve says, ignoring the warning, because Eddie is all cozy in his plaid PJ pants and Steve’s old hoodie and therefore about as threatening as a small gerbil, “lemme see.”

He reaches out to touch with only the faintest flush on his cheeks. It could easily be blamed on his high, but Robin knows him as well as she knows the back of her own hand. Steve is absolutely losing his shit right now. He’s just really good at hiding it.

“Dry,” he confirms. His hand lingers in Eddie’s hair and Robin notices that Eddie doesn’t bristle nearly as much when Steve’s the one with his hand all wrapped up in it.

Rude. But understandable.

“What the hell,” Eddie complains, but he sounds decidedly less irritated and a whole lot more flustered now. He’s nowhere near as good at hiding it as Steve.

Robin hides a smile when she notices how he’s not doodling in the margins of his paper anymore, but instead twisting a ring around his finger and staring hard at the wall.

Okay, she's more than aware of the fact that she started this, but she’s starting to think that maybe she should, like, go. Give them some privacy or whatever. Save herself of having to experience this.

“Th’s’not a bad thing,” Steve murmurs in his soupy, slow, stoned voice. Robin might not be into guys at all—especially not Steve, he’s like, Steve—but she’s not an idiot, she can tell in a purely observational way how the gravely sound of it could be sexy. She’s not completely oblivious.

Neither is Eddie, apparently, because there’s a strange glazed look in his eyes that Robin is sure has nothing to do with the weed in his system. His adam’s apple bobs as Steve runs his fingers through his hair, tugging a bit near the roots to pull Eddie’s head closer.

Eddie goes willingly. Quietly. Steve looks delighted, a big stupid smile on his face.

She is seriously such a genius. Steve owes her, seriously.

“Not a bad thing,” Eddie echoes.

“No, s’nice like this anyway.” Steve gathers it all into one hand, like a ponytail, before letting it fall slowly, playing with it like that over and over as goosebumps break out over Eddie’s neck.

“How do I—” Eddie sounds like he’s choking, the back of his ears and neck bright red. “Uh—make it better?”

“A hair mask might help,” Steve says, rolling onto his side so he can get both hands in Eddie’s hair. He’s too out of it to notice the violent shudder that tears through Eddie’s body. “You should do a porosity test.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says blankly. Robin nearly cackles. Eddie has no fucking clue what’s going on. He checked out the second Steve got his hands in his hair.

“That’s the one where you see if your hair floats?” she prompts, when it’s clear Eddie isn’t going to say anything else, too dumbfounded to process anything that Steve’s saying to him.

“Mmmhm.” Steve gives a little smile, pleased that she remembers, and of course she does.

Eddie’s eyes shut and he presses his lips into a firm line at the sound of Steve’s agreement, like he’s fighting some kind of demons inside. Steve’s still got his hands buried in Eddie’s hair, eyes glassy as he watches the frizzy strands run through his fingers.

“Maybe high porosity. Feels rough.” He tugs a little, maybe on accident, or maybe he’s too stoned to think better of it. “Wanna try a hair mask?”

“Uh,” Eddie says.

Robin kicks him, not at all subtly, and he coughs, straightening up a little bit.

“Uh, yeah,” he chokes out. “Um… if you think it’ll help, I guess. Why not.”

God, Eddie owes her too. She’s such a good friend.

Steve’s hands fall from Eddie’s hair as he pushes himself up to a sitting position, somewhat clumsily. He catches Robin’s eye, biting his lip in an excited smile, and she grins back, giving him a thumbs up.

“If the pizza shows up there’s cash in my wallet,” Steve tells her, getting to his feet and offering his hand to an absolutely flustered-looking Eddie. “C’mon, gonna show you how to take care of those pretty curls.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open, gaping like a fish out of water. Robin can’t help but snicker, grinning wider when he shoots her a bewildered, panicked look over his shoulder as Steve tugs him towards the stairs.

She curls into her corner of the couch, pulling the blanket closer to her chin and putting her focus back onto the movie as she waits for the doorbell to ring. Grease is always a classic, and, well, whatever happens between her two favourite idiots next is really none of her business.

She does turns up the volume, though. Just in case.

[purerae]

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!DEMON X ANGEL!READER (GN) // PT1

warnings ;; possessive behaviour, yandere themes, i have no real knowledge of how demons nd angels work pls forgive me !!

req by ;; @kenji-sato <3

╰────༺♡༻────╯

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who’s literally the most charming and prettiest demon in the whole dimension. He was made to seduce humans into giving into their lust and committing sins.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who views both humans and angels unappealing to look at. Humans are too…morally gray and act like they know it all. While angels believe they know better than the ‘dirty little demons’. He thinks that angels are hypocrites

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who was minding his business, sneaking around places in the spiritual world until his eyes land on you. You looked so innocent, so naive, so easy to corrupt.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who slyly walks up to you when you reach a dead end and puts an arm against the wall. He gives you a wild cheshire grin, as his horns flare up and his devils tail tickles under your chin. “What’s an Angel doing out here? Causing trouble~? We don’t want another fallen one down here do we cutie?~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who gets taken back when you’re literally the most friendly being on earth. Angels normally give him a dirty look and curse him for being on the devils side but..you…you’re just so nice????

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!DEMON who literally combusts when he hears your voice. You introduce yourself with the cutest smile hes ever seen??? Why does he want to go on his knees for you??? did you bless him with some spell??? If he had to make up a heaven, He’d just put your face and voice everywhere.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who goes redder than hellfire but covers it up with a smirk and goes back to his normal charismatic ways. Flirting with you while you just softly giggle at him. (stop giggling or he will whimper and scream, this mf is in love with you in first sight)

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who now follows you around everywhere. Unfortunately you tend to hang around the higher levels of angels who seem to be very protective of you so he has to be sneaky. You’re just so cute… Why do you have to be the purest thing in the world :( Let him corrupt you so you guys can be together forever in hell!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who snarls at the angels telling you to avoid him. Who do they think they are. You’re the only one worthy of the true definition of an angel. The rest are mindless followers. You are the only one who’s worthy in his heart.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who hasn’t visited the human world in a while. Too focused on you, he forgets to lure humans in and corrupt them. You made him dumb in love !

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who always tries to take the lead, holding your hand, making you sit on his lap, whispering sensually in your ears. But you don’t get flustered. So why does he have to get flustered at the bare minimum you do! Why does he melt into a puddle when you smile at him?!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who thought being a demon was the best thing in the universe and he would rather burn in holy water than be an angel, thinks about being good for you. If he decides to change his ways back into being the pretentious angels then maybe he could be around you more. and protect you from the stupid angels.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who gets angry when he realises he’s not the only demon you’re nice too. What do you mean you scold other demons for hurting themselves?? What do you mean you have inside jokes with them?? What do you mean you hang out with the other demons and they act soft around you too?? It was supposed to be him. Just him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥YANDERE!DEMON who’s had enough of you being nice to everyone. He needs to have you all to himself. No demons. No angels. No humans. You don’t need anyone. You only need him.

“Angel~ Come here, I need to show ya’ something!”

purerae<3

[pinkflowersushii]

be my sweet little pastry? - ♡

tangerine x reader

summary, tangerine meets you in your bakery and he’s determined to make you his.

since the cold weather soon arrived in the cities of london, that'd meant you're bakery would open just in time for the cozy seasons. people wanting to enjoy a nice pastry and a warm cup of a sweet substance as they relished in someone else's company.

located between two other stores, your bakery stood. love at first bite. a cheeky little name that made you smile whenever you'd hear it. amusing and clever, just the right amount. so with the seasons beginning to bloom, you had opened.. nervous for people's opinion, but also determined, driven by ambition to at least make people smile with a sweet treat.

so with that, you'd finally set everything how you wanted. each pastry sat nicely behind the glass that showcased it, seats and tables scattered around the small shop, the menu displayed, hanging by the ceiling, and finally, you. standing happily behind the counter as you attempted to one of the customers, handing their pastry wrapped in a small box tied with a pink bow. ౨ৎ

the day had nearly gone as a success. so many customers had complimented the cozy looking shop, their eyes growing wide as they took a bite into a pastry they didn’t expect to be so, wonderful. it brought a smile and perhaps a small blush on your cheeks. managing a bakery with only a couple co-workers wasn't easy, but it was manageable.

it wasn't until the second handle of the clock that hung on the wall ticked at exactly 8pm. the shop closed at 9pm. how lovely, it was almost time to close. a small sigh leaving your lips as you glanced outside. to admire how the night sky would look, maybe watch as people walked by, if the weather had changed.. but no.

you met the gaze of a man.

tall, broad, and the most beautiful blue eyes you're grateful for have witnessing. he held your eyes, brows tugged in thought, almost anger before looking away to the sign just above the shop. your cheeks flush with the reminder of the name, not being able to help the smile on your lips. his frame now approaching, slowly pushing open the door, the bell above ringing softly. greeted by the lovely fragrance of baked goods as he stepped inside. scanning around, studying, learning.

and in that moment, you swore you could melt into a puddle on the floor. this man was the perfect portion of sophisticated and cunty, just from a glance. wearing a dress silk looking dress shirt, unbuttoned to see enough of his chest and the gold medallion, sitting happily on it. black slacks and dress shoes to finish adorning the look.

doe-eyes looking at him in almost admiration before he approached the counter. tearing your gaze quickly, almost embarrassingly before looking back. how could a man be so stunning?

"hey sweetheart," he started, his accent eminent in his voice, "you the owner of this lovely lil' shop?" teasing for a moment with a small smirk, finding the blush on your cheeks, extremely adorable. his flirting coming to him oddly natural.

your voice getting caught in your throat for a moment before nodding, trying not to stutter or say something stupid. "um.. yes," you manage to say softly, regaining your normal smile. "w-what would you like.. sir?"

he seems amused by your response, pursing his lips in thought as he looked at the displays with a nod. "just a slice of lemon meringue pie will do, love. to-go."

you couldn't help but feel your cheeks burn a little darker, feeling his gaze trailing over your frame. the look subtle, but definitely felt. would making conversation be wise? gosh, could you even muster a sentence? being under the gaze of a random man should leave you afraid, concerned. but it felt oddly safe. safe in this mans presence. just who exactly was he?

"so i take it you're new around here, yeah?" he questioned, meeting your gaze as you straightened behind the counter, boxing his dessert with gentle hands. his gaze on them briefly, not going unnoticed.

"today's my first." you said with a proud glim in your eyes, feeling that same ambition to thrive and grow. "london just started feeling like home, and now, here i am." you said with a shrug as you finished tying the bow on the box, gently sliding it to him on the counter.

his head tilting slightly as he saw the box. of course, pink with the sweetest bow tied on. this girl was a sweetheart, a sweetheart he had now grown determined to make his own.

"m'glad you feel that way," he smiled, genuine, his heart sparking the smallest warmth. a sign that he wasn't just cold, wasn't an empty shell of a man. "don't reckon you know that many lads around here.. so," he paused a moment, his card between his index and middle, offering. "would you take a chance with me? be my sweet little pastry?"

and like that, your words had dissolved into a silent gasp, almost as if being punched in the gut. this man was so different from any you've ever met. bold, determined, and blunt. your hand covering your lips, attempting to hide the smile behind it.

with a small smile, you reach for the card. his fingers grazing against yours, sending a shiver down your arm, and a warmth straight to your heart.

"i'd like that."

────୨ৎ────

thank you for reading my first post!! it's kinda sucky, but i tried! please leave any mistakes or corrections i can make in the comments. :)

[inmyminditsreal]

You know i like it when you blush

Fem!reader x spencer reid

Word count: 594

Summary: You blush all the time, especially when you're around your crush, Spencer. But, apparently, he likes it more than you think.

In the smallest of situations, you turn bright red. It honestly doesn’t matter what emotion you're feeling, you blush. The most prominent time you blush is when you have a crush. 

That's where you are now, entering the BAU walking next to your coworker, Spencer. You are bright red.

“Are you okay? You’re blushing..” Emily asks as soon as she sees your face.

This sudden attention on you makes you turn an even darker shade of red.

“Yea- what, I’m fine.” You reply, sounding very convincing.

“Mhm okay, so you don’t have a crush?” Derek says, laughing with Emily.

“Crush?! No, what- no.” You mumble.

“Guys, It’s fine, she says she doesn’t have a crush. I believe her.” Spencer states.

The group starts to spread after this news.

“Thank you, Spence.” You say breathlessly. 

“Of course, I think it’s cute when you blush anyway.” He replies.

“What, I- you, oh um, thanks!” You mutter, starting to feel your cheeks get hot. 

You begin to run away, and by run away, you mean walk to your desk, embarrassed.

“Everyone come to the briefing room.” You hear Hotch say and make your way over.

You finally calmed down, so your face was its normal shade. You take your seat, and the briefing begins. After it concludes, you walk out and sit at your desk. 

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch states as he returns to his office.

You spend a good few minutes staring at Spencer as he has his nose deep in a book. Looking adorable. 

“Like the view? Everybody knows you like him, even he does. It’s obvious.” JJ says, sneaking up on you.

She places her hand on your shoulder, and you say, “Fine, okay, yes, I do like him. You caught me!” 

You already know your face is bright red, but she has to say, “You know you’re blushing, right? Every time you’re around him, you are blushing!”

“You know I can't control that!” you say, putting your hands up.

Suddenly, Emily comes up and says

“Have you finally admitted to your true destiny, as a tomato?”

“Yes, I, in fact have.” you reply.

She suddenly bursts out laughing along with JJ. Spencer turns to look, and as soon as he does, you feel liquid fire rush to your cheeks. So naturally, you duck my head into your lap.

“Hey, are you okay? Are you being bullied again?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Oh please we are not bullies!” JJ says while beginning to walk off with Emily by her side.

Spencer walks up to your desk and kneels down beside you. Of course, your head is still in your lap, hoping that you are somehow invisible.

“Are you okay? Like, actually.” He asks in a sweet tone.

“Yea yea, I’m okay.” You reply in a pouty voice, lifting your head out of your lap.

Your mind goes blank for a second because he's staring into your eyes so lovingly. You can barely think.

“You’re really red, though you probably know that already.” He says.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t control it.” You reply, feeling stupid.

He laughs quietly, then says

“You really are adorable, especially when you blush. You know I like it when you blush.” 

“Really? Thanks, I think you’re adorable too.”

He smiles, then offers you his hand. 

“Wanna walk with me to the jet?”

You don't know such little words could set you on fire and melt you into a puddle.

“Yea, of course.” You reply.

There, you walk off together, hand-in-hand. You know you're blushing, you know you have a crush on Spencer, and you know now he might have a crush on you, too.

[lollytea]

Love Lies Bleeding, Lies Love Breeding

(From that poll from yesterday. Something I wrote back in August from last year. Set during the Summer in Gravesfield. Some of Hunter's thoughts on falling in love, looking out for Gus and nursing a doozy's worth of guilt at the same time. Not gonna put this under any tags so it's a blog exclusive I think. If you somehow manage to see this, hello!)

Hunter isn't stupid.

Well, okay, maybe he's a little stupid.

Nobody ever says so. Nobody ever implies it. They wouldn't. They're too nice to him in this house.

But he sometimes wonders if they ever think it.

Sixteen years of being strung along on the trail of a genocide plot and smiling brainlessly the whole time was not very 'Genius Teen Prodigy' of him.

Belos was his blindspot, he can recognize that. He won’t let it obscure his perception of his own intelligence.

Or at least, he’ll try.

He can't afford not to try. His perception means everything right now.

Hunter isn't stupid, he knows this.

He's not unobservant.

He's not even allowing his own insecurities to fog up his lens of what's directly in front of him.

There is a girl in this house. A special kind of girl.

She's disarming. Perilously so.

Too disarming for her own good.

It's a girl who has miraculously mutated sunburns into a contagious disease.

There's this thing she does. A seemingly harmless thing. She asks if Hunter would like to garden with her on sun baked days.

He needs to study this recurring phenomenon. He needs to study her. Because Camila's garden is nothing but a compact patch of land. And yet, here's Hunter, getting hopelessly lost in it.

The hours split between his fingers. He loses time.

It's her. It's always her.

Because there's sunlight catching in the twists of inkblot braids and leaving white-gold nicks in glossy green irises.

Because there's frilly little blouses with not a sleeve in sight to sheathe an emphatic set of biceps.

Because there's shorts with cinched waist bands to better accentuate the bold flare of hips and the prominent bump of a stomach. Shorts with a very high cutoff hem, thus introducing him to the concept of thighs and calves in a way that he wasn't emotionally prepared for, but it really adds to the ensnaring madness of the whole situation.

Because there's her, in all her enthusiastic babbling glory.

Because she elaborates on every plant they tend to, with that soft, slightly raspy edged voice. Occasionally, the voice squeaks on its vowels when her cultivated descriptions grow a little too passionate.

She tells him that she used to get teased for it, and he bites his tongue and doesn't say that those ridiculous little vocal cracks have got the big stupid rock in his chest tightening.

And before he knows it, there's a fried scarlet stain on the back of his neck.

Camila specifically instructs them to re-apply sun lotion every few hours, and Hunter initially had every intention of taking her advice.

He forgets.

He gets lost in the garden, and he gets lost with the girl, and he forgets.

And now the back of his neck matches her seething shoulders.

She forgets, too.

He doesn't overlook that detail.

Hunter isn't stupid.

The reality of this girl's existence has teeth. He knows this because those teeth have been gradually sinking into him since the day he met her, one sweet penstagram message at a time.

There are wild, writhing, squirming jungles erupting in his stomach.

He's pretty sure if you cracked open his skull, it'd be filled to the brim with flower petals.

She's got those prickly vines coiling around the galdorstone inside of him as if she owns the damn thing.

(She very well might own the damn thing. Or, well, she'd be entitled to at least a chunk of it in a custody battle if he's being perfectly honest.)

She has well and truly captured him.

And he's pretty sure she's done it on purpose.

If you're going to melt solid gold down to a puddle, at least consider the consequences. That puddle is going to spend his post-liquidized days mooning over memories of the melting process and wonder how the hell you're still not done with him.

She isn't done with him. She makes that perfectly clear every time she catches him alone and flirts him into a quiet corner.

Yeah. That's a thing that's currently happening in this house. For some reason.

He doesn't know how, he doesn't know why, but Hunter of all people, has managed to pique Captain Willow Park's interest.

In a less than platonic way, he means. He feels the need to clarify because it's that specific aspect that has wrung his nerves tight.

She never says it. Not explicitly. It's not exactly overt.

He notices how she always reels herself back whenever the playful ambiguity begins eroding. It's almost like she's fiddling with him, but unsure of how to get a good grip.

Either that or she's deliberately building anticipation.

Obviously, if she's going to go and make a botanical disaster out of his brain, he's going to end up paying a lot of attention to her and how she carries herself when he's around.

However...it could all be a joke.

It could be some confusing teenager thing that he's not yet educated on.

It could be that she's just overwhelmingly nice, and this is all in his head.

But Hunter does not think that's the case.

Hunter isn't stupid.

So, the tentative assumption that there's something about his colorless disposition that she finds attractive is the reason gross, sticky sweat soaks his underarms whenever he interacts with her.

He's learning a lot about emotions that he previously believed himself to be well acquainted with, only to discover that they operate far differently under foreign circumstances.

For example, nobody knows fear like Hunter. The feeling is second nature to him.

And he can confidently proclaim that whatever is swelling between him and Willow has him scared witless.

But if that's the case, why do his facial muscles ache from grinning?

When Hunter gets excited, the words tend to bubble out of him at a breakneck pace.

But, as Willow casually traces the tip of her index finger down his inner forearm while crooning so maddeningly close to his ear, why can he not manage to choke out a single word?

That's what Willow does. That's what she does to him.

She rearranges things that should be straightforward. She shoots all those thoughts and feelings ten feet under, and before he can figure out what’s become of him, they're erupting from the ground, fluorescent and wholly unfamiliar.

The sturdy floors beneath him become tiles made of leaves fluttering over a depth of nothingness. It's unknown terrain. He doesn't know where to step, and it leaves him terrorstruck.

What now?

He thought he had adjusted to how it felt to free fall, plunging through the sky, slicing through the icy air.

Falling, falling...

His internal organs are in a jumble from the sudden rush of turbulence.

Falling, falling...

The sensation is unpleasant but temporary. Within seconds, Flapjack has steered his staff-form to swoop directly under Hunter's plummeting body and the two latch on to each other.

He supposes this feeling is a little like that. Or at least how it was in the early days of his and Flapjack's delicate partnership, before the contents of his stomach learned to strap themselves down.

But the biggest difference is that there's no near immediate release from how it feels to fall.

Falling, falling…

When does the falling stop?

Obviously he's heard the phrase. It's common. Almost overrated. Most recently, it was heard rolling off Amity's tongue as she churned out a thorough and sentimental report on why she fell victim to the falling and to the thing she fell into.

Falling, falling…

It makes him feel off balance.

He’s defenseless.

And, for reasons unbeknownst to himself, he likes it.

He likes this. Whatever it is.

She makes him like it. Which is so typical of her.

He likes being scared out of his skull. He likes her attention, no matter how startling the blaze of heat is.

It's exhilarating in a way. Like back in his castle days when he felt the jittery elation of reading books he wasn't allowed to

But it never lasts. Sooner or later, the guilt begins oozing until all of his childish joy is polluted.

Deception is deception, no matter how innocent the intentions are. Ultimately, Hunter is always left with a horrible sinking feeling for lying to his uncle.

Well...

Deception continues.

Even in this new life.

Even for this new Hunter.

Even if he tries to ignore it.

He likes seeing traces of his reflection in Willow's gold framed eyes, knowing the boy she's looking at has a red, bloody, gooey heart between his ribs.

That boy's expression is stitched together from a totally random assortment of genetic features.

That boy looks like that by pure coincidence.

That boy's body is his own.

He likes pretending to be the boy in Willow’s eyes.

'We'll tell them,' Luz had said on the night they were forced through the portal. 'When we're ready.'

When will he be ready?

The truth is molding away inside of him.

He hasn't drummed up the courage to tell Luz yet because he's not prepared for her potential disapproval, but...

It's been an ongoing litigation in his brain court.

What if he never tells them? Would that be so bad?

Who does it hurt?

If anything, telling them would gut them clean through.

Telling them would lead to pain that's irreversible for everyone involved.

Do they really need that?

Sometimes Gus jolts awake at night, suffocating on his own serrated screams, but Hunter has figured out the trick of calming him down.

It involves being Hunter.

He's not good with finding the words and clicking them together in a way that subsides a riotous mind. The kind of magic Gus effortlessly works on Hunter every now and again.

But he knows two words, and they're just as effective.

'I'm here,'

The basement couch should be too narrow for both Gus and Hunter to comfortably sleep on.

And yet Hunter always ends up laying there after one of these episodes. And something about his awkwardly elongated body with all its jagged corners is as good as any comfort blanket for Gus.

It's only after Hunter hears the slow even breathing against his chest that he closes his eyes, wondering how he got here. Why is he one of the first people Gus seeks out in the dark?

Maybe because of that thing he said a while back.

I promise. I wouldn't mess with you.

Gus has spent a lifetime being deceived by liars, and this simple fact is restless in Hunter's stone heart.

If Hunter tells them, he's exposed as one of those liars.

And he doesn't know how much more shattered trust Gus can take.

It's one of those nights as he's being beckoned to sleep by the steady rhythm of Gus’ quiet snores when Hunter’s mind, left unattended, goes wandering into the bleakest depths.

What would happen if he told Gus?

This friendship would be done. He knows that much.

But severed ties wouldn't be where the hurt ends, would it?

What if it takes months, no years, before Gus’ night terrors ease up?

What if time passes, tides change, moons molt into new moons, and in that hazy future, Gus is sleeping somewhere far away from here?

What if, when he wakes up screaming, it’s because of those nights spent in Camila Noceda’s basement, and that thing he had allowed himself to sleep next to?

What if Gus spends the rest of his life rattled by how close the two of them had once been? Just how easily he could have had the breath wrung out of his throat by Hunter’s witch slaughtering hands.

In this future that Hunter imagines, there is no solution for Gus’ hurt. And he’s unable to wrap him up tight in his arms and tell him he’s here because he's not here anymore.

He’s somewhere far away from Gus.

Or he’s dead. Which is basically the same thing.

Not like it would matter anyway. Even if he was close enough to hold him, it would just make everything worse. Hunter having been in close proximity a time ago would be the whole reason for the hurt. The most considerate thing he could do is stay far away or be dead and rotting or whatever it is that keeps him out of sight and out of mind.

He notices that whenever Gus calls out to him in the dark, he barely sounds like himself. It’s like this iron spined thirteen year old has regressed eight years and he's nothing but a frightened preschooler begging to be held by someone safe.

Hunter is not someone safe.

But maybe, for Gus' sake, he can pretend to be.

If the truth never leaves Hunter's tongue, then he will never be the monster in Gus' bad dreams.

So, he's protecting him, right? If Hunter just keeps his huge mouth shut for once in his life, Gus won't have to carve another painful tally mark into his already worn down heart.

There doesn't have to be another liar in Gus' life.

Not if he never finds out.

Hunter can pretend.

He can bury himself into this game of make-believe until the lie and the truth become in the same.

Wouldn't that be better for everyone?

He knows it's dishonest, but he can make up for it with his life. He'll make them happy, he promises.

[pablitogavii]

Secret weapon

You were giving Pablo a silent treatment..why? Well, because you've asked him to put the dishes into the dishwasher this morning only to come back home exhausted from work to find them all piled in the sink.

When you confronted him about it while he played his stupid video games, he just called you 'dramatic' saying he will do it now. You just stayed quite stomping into the bedroom without another word.

After you took your shower and went to make yourself some stress relieving tea, you saw that all the dishes were placed in the dishwasher and that Pablo was walking towards you with a pout on his face. Not gonna work this time Gavira!

You sat on the floor placing tea on the table as he walked by you touching your arm gently before sitting behind you and trying to pull you close but you refused pulling away quickly. That made his groan in annoyance.

"Amor..I put the dishes away" he said but you just ignored him getting up and sitting on the bed instead grabbing your phone. He sighed getting up himself sitting on the table in front of you.

"I know you're angry I called you dramatic preciosa.." he said and you nodded your head completely forgetting that you were supposed to completely tune him out.

"But you have to agree this is such a silly think to fight about" he added and now you were pissed once again. Why couldn't he apologize like a normal person!?

"I really want to go to bed and cuddle now.." he added but you would rather die than give him what he wanted now..not without a proper apology Gavira!

"Princesaaa! I'll even let you play with my hair..how does that sound??" he said and although it was a good enough bribe you stayed cold and composed.

"Oof you're a hard one to crack aren't you?? But I know how to make you fold.." he smirked moving closer and you felt yourself getting nervous wondering what he had in mind now.

"Do you want me to show you my secret weapon cariño?" he smirked more and you looked into his dark orbs that were now filled with lust.

"You sure you can handle it preciosa...?" he whispered into my ear before kissing my cheek making it blush bright red in response. Damn it! He was getting exactly the reaction he wanted!

"So I happen to know one of your biggest weak spots mi anjo precioso...one thing that makes you melt into my hands like a precious little puddle" his hand rested on your knee as he spoke and you felt a shiver move down your spine in response to his warm touch.

"Hm..you know it's been awhile since I've had you preciosa" he said his voice becoming so deliciously low while hi hand moved between your thighs now massaging teasingly while you gulped.

"I can tell you're slowly folding.." he said after a few minutes of massaging your thighs so nicely that you closed your eyes completely engulfed in the feeling.

But when you heard his confident words, you suddenly closed your legs but one of his hands quickly snuck between them opening them up again and now your panties were ruined.

"Ah ah now you don't want to be bad anjo..or I might have to teach you a lesson?" he said moving even higher this time and you couldn't help the moan escaping your lips which made him very satisfied.

"Damn it!" you finally speak and he smirked nodding his head before standing up and pulling you up as well and you were face to face with each other now.

"I'm sorry I didn't do what you asked amor..and for calling you dramatic..but you have to admit my secret weapon works" he said raising up your chin smiling when he saw you blush harder.

"Maybe un poquito.." you whisper and he smirks nodding his head before leaning down and capturing your lips into a sweet and passionate kiss. The he told you to jump before carrying you to bed definitely making it up to you properly ;))

Ik it's ben awhile! I'm sorry! I've been so busy lately :))

[simplyreveries]

Hi ^^ I read through some of your stuff and I really love your writing, can I request sleepover/cuddling headcanons for Riddle, Azul, Jamil, and Ortho? (And additionally, if it's okay could Idia be in Orthos platonically? Ignihyde sleepover :3)

sleepover; riddle, azul, jamil, ignihyde

thank you!<3

riddle rosehearts

now riddle can be stickler about these types of things but if you plead him enough, he can't help but give in. he does have habits and a pretty strict bedtime routine for himself- you're going to have to help him loosen up just a little bit. he can't help but feel his heart melt when he sees you cozied up in pajamas.

he does like to get some schoolwork done before rest because he's a nerd or whatever, but you can at least do your own thing and chat with him while he does. it's mostly you rambling and talking about something stupid the trio did earlier that day with him humming in acknowledgement or him shaking his head with a small smile of amusement.

though he chastises others for staying later than necessary... he will indulge in a few games with you, something like card games, he only knows a few so you may need to explain how some of them work. he mostly sees ace showing others them, but he doesn't play much himself. but riddle loves puzzles the most and he wants to be able to do something together rather than compete each other.

at the end of it once you initiate holding (ya he's the little spoon what about it...) him he's hesitant but turns into a puddle of mush. and please play with his hair, he'd hold onto you tighter. also, you know how once you get sleepy and overtired you open up easily? yeah that's kind what ends up happening. it's a good thing though because that just means he feels safe with you.

azul ashengrotto

hes the one to suggest you staying, during a more tired and overworked state as you came to visit him after mostro lounges hours in his office he turns clingy (i mean more so than usual) and doesn't want to let you go. if you even try to get up when hes holding onto you with his eyes closed he'll hold you tighter.

you only laugh and help each other to get ready for bed. he was curious when he saw any kind of skincare you do, he does that too but he still doesnt know that much with these things in the land. so now there's even more perks to staying over because now you get: azul without glasses and him begrudgingly letting you put a facemask on him. he was weirded out and even found them to be silly look, but boy was he THANKFUL when he felt his skin right after. not to mention he has a newfound love for you putting the skincare on for him, your touch gives him chills, but he wants more.

i bet you his bed is literally the softest thing ever... like you're sleeping well tonight. azul has got the silk sheets and everything. its nice until you feel how naturally cold azul's body is when he touches you and puts his arms around you. he prefers laying in a position where you're facing each other, your faces are practically right in front of one other. azul likes to rub your arm while hes trying to sleep... very soothing and comforting would recommend.

jamil viper

it's actually pretty common for you to decide to spend the night over rather than going all the way back to ramshackle. jamil isn't exactly complaining either he wants all his time with you. it's so pretty to see him with his hair all the way down and of course he wants you to play with it when he's holding you. he enjoys it when you offer to brush it for him.

you two usually play a lot of games with each other, cards, board games or mancala which he enjoys the most with you. he doesn't go easy on you even if it's supposed to be a simple and chill time together because hes a stupid bastard like that. he'll give some airy laugh and say "you probably shouldn't have done that" pointing out how you couldve done better against him.

if you're feeling hungry he'll cook something so good up for the two of you. he doesn't mind whether or not you join in cooking it to or watching him and chatting with him as he whips something that you just know smells heavenly up.

once you two are ready for bed though jamil prefers to hold you against him. he sometimes loves just burying his face into the crook of your neck, he'll kiss you lightly here and there too, its actually very sweet.

ignihyde

oh gosh any sleepover with these two are so fun. there's literally so much to do with them and so much technology to make use of in the dormitory that its insane. but of course, you guys spend A LOT of your time that night playing videogames together. that and idia pulls out his favorite board game and him and ortho are like a beast at those it feels so unfair. don't let those brothers team against you.

you get special privileges with them, so you get access to all of idias candy but you're also going to be eating what his diet consists of for the night- sodas and microwavable meals like ramen, of course.

surprisingly, you’ll end up seeing a more talkative side of idia— I mean he feels comfortable around you and if you bring up any of his interests, he can get really passionate about it.

okay but I totally feel like ortho lowkey has a lot of knowledge and dirt on the students around him. so, if you're want to know anything interesting about your classmates ask him, he doesn't really have any qualms on sharing that to you, he does it with such an innocent smile too as he happily shares the drama.

you and idia would probably pass out some point, watching a movie or playing some videogame, sprawled out on the floor, thankfully you won't have to deal with ignihydes cold hard floors because idia has a whole collection of blankets and pillows to share with you.

[binsito]

I loved your idea of hannie with his nail tech crush.. yk what i think though? OBVIOUSLY the nailtech kinda knows abt this little crush of his. She doesnt know how severe it is but she does notice the way he blushes slightly when she compliments his hands, or the way his eyes sparkle when she finally giggles at one of his jokes. Also who am i kidding the nail tech obviously ALSO finds hannie v v cute and v v hot bc,,,, he's hannie??? He's charming and handsome and he keeps his fingernails clean soooo maybe the next time he comes around, and she is feeling a little frustrated bc her own hands aren't enough fun for her.. she'll hint at wanting his fingers inside of her? Maybe she'll be kinda distracted and shy this tine or maybe she's bold and just straight up teases him by saying things that could be considered dirty but also might just be his pervy mind interpreting the wrong thing. Aaa idk i'm not a writer but yourw giving my head THOUGHTS

OHHHH MYGOD. thank god you left this ask bc i was dying to write more for this JASHDJA

warning: fingering, hand worshipping, swearing, slight perv!han jisung, lmk if i missed anything but it's pretty tame

wc: 914

hannie has to act normal.

hannie has to be cool.

hannie has to act like he doesn't go home after every appointment and edges his cock thinking about how nice it would be to have your lips wrapped around his tip.

so when he walks into the salon, straight into your suite and takes a seat at your chair - he makes a mental promise to himself that:

he. will. not. get. hard.

he won't get hard if you hold his hands, it's all part of your job.

he won't get hard if you smooth lotion on him, it's just a courtesy.

he won't get hard if you compliment his nails, they're only pretty because you made them pretty.

"hannie do you even put your fingers to use?"

what?

"you come here so often and yet they're rarely chipped or overgrown. you must not lift a finger." you smile.

oh.

he felt so stupid, of course he read into it in such a dumb, perverted way.

"you must take good care of yourself hm?"

fuck.

why couldn't he be normal? why couldn't he just have nice, clean thoughts? why was he getting hard? why couldn't he just keep his promise?

"your hands are always soft. i wish i had nice fingers like you. they're long and pretty.."

he clears his throat and laughs awkwardly. he was being such a loser.

"oh yeah.. they're definitely long, alright.. hah.." he says

who the fuck says that?

he literally wanted the ground to eat him up.

"yeah, they are. longer than mine." you giggle as you work on his polish.

"yeah.. way longer.."

and why he kept going? only god knows, but he definitely noticed your face flushing (and was he crazy or were you pressing your legs tightly together under the table?)

hannie doesn't think he's ever seen you this quiet, this concentrated on his hands before. after the conversation died out, there was no other topic to bounce off of. and normally han jisung would just start talking about random shit, would tell you your hair looked pretty or that he noticed your subtle eye makeup and that it looked nice.

but not now.

not today.

"hannie have you ever had problems reaching things with your fingers? i-it could just be because mine aren't as long as yours but.. you know they're never quite enough to reach."

"oh uh.. n-no but do you need help reaching something? i could help.."

"could you really? that's so sweet of you, hannie.." your smile could melt him into a puddle. you smile at him so sweetly, just for him and han jisung can't really handle that well.

"so what is it you need help with? something too high up or-"

"well.. i just can't seem to cum. doing your nails frustrates me so much. they look so nice so why can't i have them inside of me?" you pout at him.

the wind feels like it was knocked out of him. he thanks god that you have your own little suite and no one else was around to hear that.

"f-fuck, are you serious? holy shit, why didn't you say something sooner?"

"well because i'm a little shy and because i wanted to finish doing your set first, of course..

you really mean it though? will you actually help me?"

"yes.. fuck, yes i'll help you."

his eagerness was cute. unluckily for him, he still had to wait for you to cure his gel polish. his leg bouncing impatiently as you gave him a look to quit it.

he smiled shyly and let out a nervous chuckle as he tried to contain himself. once you were done, he damn near jumped out of his chair towards you. you put some of your supplies away and walked past him to lock the door. as soon as he felt the coast was clear and no one would walk in, he grabbed you - kissing you deeply and pressing you against his lean body.

it was an intense kiss, full of want and desire but you welcomed it because you had been feeling the same way. you pulled away slightly to grab his wrist, bringing it up towards your mouth so you could take two of his freshly manicured fingers in between your lips.

you made sure to get them nice and wet, saliva connecting them to the tip of your tongue when you pulled them out.

han jisung felt weak.

he found himself pressing you against the nearest wall, your pants long forgotten as he pumped his fingers inside you, finally leaving you fuller than your fingers ever could.

the pads of his fingers massaged your gummy spot and curled against it making your knees buckle. it was all too perfect and better than you could ever imagine. you knew the orgasm he was going to pull from you was going to be intense. you felt it bubbling up already and he hadn't even been touching you for long.

but when he brings his other hand forward to rub at your clit and you look down to catch a peek of his baby blue nails, you lose yourself to him and feel yourself cream around his fingers. clenching your cunt tightly against them, not wanting him to ever pull out.

however when he does pull out, he makes sure to have you watch as he sucks your essence off his fingers. rolling his eyes back at the taste and humming in satisfaction.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

PART 2: 🚪 What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? 🚪

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smut

✎ Summary: Your boyfriend takes you out to a nice restaurant, but you end up eating something not on the menu.

✎ CW: Oral sex, hand job, masturbation, kissing, public diddly-dooing, food play

✎ Word count: 2,666 😈

✩ A/N: Part 1: What’s wrong with a little privacy, huh? ✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

The door swings open slowly, and the waiter appears, balancing a tray of shellfish in his hands. It takes a few seconds to see you, to register what he’s actually looking at: you jumping up out of Chan’s lap to stand next to his chair, face absolutely red as a cherry tomato.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the waiter says, turning his eyes to the floor as he brings the tray to the table.

“No, I’m so sorry. We got carried away… this is entirely our fault I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely.

Chan can’t speak, nor can he wipe that stupid grin off his stupidly cute face.

“Honestly, ma’am, it’s not the worst thing I’ve walked in on…” the waiter says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. “We made signs in case things like this happen, in case people want to use this room for… more. I’ll put one on the door.”

He nods respectfully and disappears once again, shutting the door behind him. Your eyes meet Chan’s once you’re alone again, and your reactions couldn’t be more different.

While you fight every urge to melt into a puddle, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. The embarrassment you feel is unfortunately nothing compared to the sheer love and adoration you have for this goofy man and his breathy, squeaky laugh.

“We’re gonna get banned, you know,” you scold.

“Naur, he said this happens. We get a sign!” he says cheekily, standing and holding your face in his palms. “Our very own sign, sweetheart.”

“Oh god…” you sigh and bury your face in his chest, hoping if you push hard enough you can just bust through his ribs and live inside his torso and escape this awkward hell.

“Hey… it’s ok,” he comforts you, rubbing the back of your head. “On the bright side, now we can really get into it.”

Your head snaps back up.

“You… you cannot be serious,” you say incredulously.

“What? We have a sign now,” he reasons, rubbing your back. “We have to do something worthy of the sign.”

“You’re absolutely insatiable,” you say, lightly pushing off of his chest to return to your seat.

“Here, allow me,” he says, rushing to the back of your chair to move it closer to the table.

“No, you’re not a gentleman anymore, you can’t fool me.”

Chan places his hands on your shoulders and leans down to put his lips right next to your ear.

“Well, I may not be gentle,” he croons, “but I am your man.”

After the last word, his soft, wet lips meet your cheek and apply gentle pressure before disappearing again so he can rejoin you at the table, like civilized diners. He sits and smiles at you as he unrolls his napkin and turns his attention to the steaming tray of shellfish.

You pick up a clam and use a small fork to loosen it from its shell before sliding it into your mouth, and Chan does the same.

“How is it?” you ask as he chews.

“Really good, needs a little more salt, though,” he answers.

“Agreed,” you echo, reaching for the salt shaker between your plates, but his hand lands there first.

“Hold on,” he says, keeping his long fingers between you and the salt. “I kinda wanna try something.”

“What would that be?”

“How about a… different kind of… sauce?” he says, cheeks reddening more than you’ve ever seen and trying his best to hold back a giggle.

You raise one brow at him, waiting for him to elaborate on whatever ridiculous scheme he’s cooking up, but he just smirks at you.

“I’m not asking the waiter for extra shit after that…” you start.

“…nonono. I mean…” he sighs. “Do you really need me to specify?”

Your unwavering gaze screams yes.

“What if I add… a little taste of… Australia?” he says sheepishly. “You know…”

You completely lose control the moment realization hits, and you can’t contain your laughter.

“Chan… you want to… come in an oyster? Is that what you’re telling me right now?” you ask, barely getting the words out between deep breaths and long chuckles.

His pretty lips turn down into a frown.

“Hey… don’t laugh. I was trying to be… kind of sexy…” he says, voice dropping off at the end.

“Hey, it is. Kind of. It’s also incredibly silly,” you clarify, but one look at his embarrassed expression has you changing your tune.

“But…” you sigh. “I’m down.”

His gaze is still aimed down at his plate, but he perks up a little.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s silly, but…” he pauses and slowly runs his eyes up your chest, your neck, to land on your lips. “It would be kind of hot… watching you eat it…”

His lustful eyes plead with your mouth, like if he just stared enough he could get his come on your tongue. And at that moment, there’s nothing you want more than to give him what he wants.

“Well…” you start, picking up a larger oyster. “You said it needed more salt. Why don’t you help me out, then?”

You extend your arm across the table, offering the shellfish to him. He hesitantly reaches for it, but you can see the smile growing.

“My pleasure,” he finally says with a devilish grin. “Hold on…”

He gently takes the oyster from your hand and floats it over his plate, over the edge of the table, and down into his lap.

You interlace your fingers and place them under your chin, propping yourself up on the table with your elbows. Just watching him.

He fumbles for a bit, then looks back up at you.

“I don’t want to overwhelm your tastebuds, so I’ll start light,” he decides. “Just the appetizer version to sample, yeah?”

You hum in response, hypnotized by the way his shoulders and biceps flex and move. He reaches under the table and squeezes your knee before speaking again.

“Ok, here I go.”

You can’t see his hand work, but you’ve watched him enough to picture exactly what he’s doing out of view.

He’ll tightly grip his cockhead — not wasting time with the touching and teasing you enjoy when you’re at the helm — and he’ll stroke quickly. He’s much more no-nonsense, especially when the events that will follow are even more exciting than the sensation itself.

His bottom lip disappears between his teeth as his forearm moves up and down just enough to lure some of this… sauce… to the surface. But his eyes stay on your face — on your lips — as the rest of him shakes slightly.

“Almost…” he moans softly. “Just need… a little.”

Once he’s gathered an acceptable amount of precum in the shell, he stops and lifts it back above the table, and holds it above his plate. His dark eyes are glued to your lips, and his chest rises and falls gently.

“Well… what are you waiting for?” you ask, hand outstretched across the table. “Give it here.”

He hesitates, just for a second, then drops the oyster in your palm.

“I hope it tastes all right,” he says mischievously.

You lift the shell to your lips and tilt your head back, letting the oyster and the sauce slide onto your tongue. It sits there for a few seconds, the flavors sinking into your tastebuds.

“Sooooo, tell me,” Chan urges. “How is it? Enough salt?”

One eyebrow raises as you purse your lips and stare. Leaving him in suspense for a few more seconds can’t hurt. But then he tilts his head a little to the left and pleads with those pretty eyes, and you know you lost.

“Honestly?” you ask, and he quickly nods. “Not salty enough. I think you can do better.”

One side of his mouth pulls up and reveals that cute dimple. You knew this would get him; he can’t resist a challenge.

“Fine, give me another,” he says, reaching toward the tray, but you grab his wrist before his fingers touch a shell.

“No, let me.”

You slowly push your chair back and slide down, knees softly hitting the floor. Your hands touch the cool tile next as you begin to crawl under the table.

“Maybe we just need a better chef for this…” you purr. “Someone with more… delicate hands.”

Cold fingers surround his warm cock, and you let the rush of blood beneath his skin return your hand to a normal temperature before moving it up and down, up and down.

His head falls back and his big hands grip the armrests as you settle on your knees just in front of his chair. His legs part as wide as the chair will allow for you, for your hand, your lips…

You decide against teasing him more this time and just give him what he wants instead. After all, it’s what you want, too. And judging by the taste of his precum, you’re in for a treat.

One hand works slowly near the base while you close your lips around him. It’s gentle at first, like if you squeeze or suck too hard you might break him. And you’d hate to spill his metaphorical salt and bring on bad luck — the devil may appear over your shoulder, convincing you to do dirty things, evil things. But that does sound like fun…

You suck harder now, hollowing out your cheeks to apply wet pressure on all sides of him. And you take him in so deeply, just a little deeper with each bob of your head. Giving him more of you, more of your throat. But it’s not enough, because his hand is in your hair, pushing you further down into his lap.

“Ohhhhh my god,” he breathes, trying his best to stay relatively quiet. “Jesus christ…”

His fingers interlace with the long strands at the back of your skull, pulling you up and down at a comfortable pace. He’s not worried about speed, he just wants to feel all of you.

He wants to go as far into you as he can — and then some. Feel the pressure from your lips and your cheeks and your tongue and the small gap at the back of your mouth and the tight ridges at the top of your throat. He loves this, and he’s so fucking lucky you don’t have a strong gag reflex.

“Baby doll…” he trails off as he slowly fucks your mouth. “You feel amazing, oh my girl, my beautiful… ohhh…”

His hips slide forward in the chair, and his thighs start to quake. He’s close.

You slide your unoccupied hand over his legs and up between his torso and the table, keeping your palm open like you’re asking him to hand you something. He grabs your hand to hold it, though, and his touch is sweet and wonderful, but it’s not what you need right now.

“What?” he laughs as you shake him off. “What do you need, baby?”

You close your fingers and thumb together and open them slowly, trying to imitate the opening of a shell. He hands you a napkin, and you throw it back on the table. He tries a small plate next, and you do your best to place that one down gently.

“I don’t know what to give you, honey,” he sighs.

You try your best shellfish impression again, and he’s silent for a few seconds, then…

“OH!”

An oyster gently lands in your palm, and you pull it back down under the table. Chan chuckles to himself and you get back to work right as a knock sounds at the door.

“Everything ok in there, sir? Can I get you two anything?” the waiter asks.

“Uh, no, we’re fine! T-thank you!” Chan calls out, his voice surprisingly steady given the circumstance.

Footsteps recede down the hallway, and Chan speaks again in a hushed voice.

“You almost got us in trouble again.”

You pull back from his cock to defend yourself.

“No, that’s you and your big ass mouth,” you tease. “I know I feel amazing, but have some self-control.”

His soft laugh quickly turns into a breathy moan as you take him back into your mouth. He hits the back of your throat a few times before you switch to targeting his most sensitive spots.

One hand grips his base while the other cups his balls, and his hands are gripping the arms of his chair for dear life. Your tongue runs up and down his shaft, breaking the rhythm every now and then to circle his tip or press into his slit.

“Close, b-baby,” he whines. “G-get ready.”

Tongue laid flat across your bottom lip, you press into the underside of his head to wait for your treat. The oyster is nearby, too, ready to catch a little bit for itself.

He doesn’t make it easy, though. Chan comes in strong waves, the first shooting straight back into your throat, the next weakly rolling down your tongue and onto your chest, the third landing safely on the back of your tongue.

You move the oyster into the stream for a second or two, just long enough to get some flavor. The rest is yours to savor on its own.

The bitterness hits your tongue first, but the longer it swirls and lingers on your tastebuds, you get the sweet and tangy notes. You could drink an entire glass of him.

“Fuck…”

You push his chair back and crawl forward enough to stand without hitting your head. His eyes find your face for the first time since you crawled under the table, and his lips pull into a wide smile.

“Oh god,” he giggles. “You look, uh.”

Your hand goes to your hair — the tangled mess that was once your nice date night hair. And you can feel the sticky warmth on your lips, your chin, your chest. You must look ruined.

“Well, let’s see if it was worth it,” you chirp, leaning back to sit on the edge of the table and slip the oyster into your mouth.

Your eyebrows pull down as you assess the flavors. Salty is more than covered this time, and that tangy sweetness complements the shellfish perfectly. It’s surprisingly actually really good. But you can’t let him off that easily.

“Hmmmmm,” you muse, staring up and off into the corner of the room. But you sneak a glance at his face — his sweet, anxious, expectant face — and those warm, loving eyes, and you can feel yourself losing the battle once again.

“Please, how is it?” he asks, almost pleadingly. His chest still rises and falls and his neck glistens with a few drops of sweat in the most beautiful way. Who are you kidding? You can’t resist him.

“Honestly, baby? It’s pretty fucking good,” you admit.

Somehow, his smile gets even wider, and he pulls you into his lap again. His gorgeous eyes stare into yours in the sweetest mix of love and pride as he pulls you close for a gentle kiss. Noses still touching afterward, he speaks.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”

“I thought I already did that,” you quip and reattach your lips.

He smiles into the kiss and tightens his hold around your waist, and then there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello again, just checking in,” the waiter says from the hallway.

Chan looks up at you with nothing but joy and adoration in his eyes when he yells, “Actually, we’re gonna make out for the next half hour, so if you could come back after, that would be great.”

“Of course sir, I’ll set a timer,” the waiter says, and you think you can hear him laugh.

“Guess we have a half hour then,” you tease, physically unable to hold back your smile.

“Better make the most of it,” he replies, pulling you impossibly close for yet another mind-blowing kiss.

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🏷️ @drhsthl @3rachasninja @channieand08 @ikykleeknowww @anjian3 @tooskathepiratefromshield @channiesbabygirl 🏷️

[lxstfuleclipse]

author’s note: this is for @tradgothprompto ! i love their writing so much omg, so i conjured up a special lil’ something to cheer them up!

【 summary!! reader has a bad case of the cramps and leon comes to your rescue. 】

【 content warning!! period comfort, mentions of cramps, pet names, real fluffy time, just leon being a good ass bf, as he should. 】

Everything hurts.

A low groan leaves your lips as you throw your arm over your face, your other hand clutching a heating pad as you pressed it against your abdomen. You already hated that time of the month, but the cramps today was starting to kick your ass. Why hasn’t that damn Tylenol kicking in yet? You wanted- no, needed, for the pain to cease..

You barely had it in you to move from your bed, feeling like you were being torn apart from the inside little by little. It was unbearable.

You hear the front door open and the jingle of keys, you knew it was Leon finally coming home. But, you didn’t have it in you to meet him at the door like you usually would to greet him. You stayed in the not-so-comfort of your bed, trying desperately to take your mind away from the pain or try to sleep it off to the sound of the television playing some stupid reality show.

“Huh, there you are. I was looking for you, almost thought you weren’t home.”

He places a kiss on your head, it makes you smile but the pain knocks it right off your face as you let out a deep sigh.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” He asks, worry beginning to form on his face. You never wanted him to worry, especially since he was already dealing with so much because of work, especially those missions that he’s not supposed to talk about with you, and his things from his past. He tilts his head before taking notice of the heating pad, understanding what was bothering you so much. He knew that it bothered you a lot, but he hated to see you in such a state. You took deep and shaky breaths to keep yourself from crying because of how intense the pain was, but you had someone to help take care of you now.

“Does it hurt real bad, baby? What can I do to make it better, sweet love?” His voice low and full of concern for you, he wasn’t even trying to make you melt and you wanted to be a puddle.

God, who did this man think he is? Coming in here being all sweet and loving, so doting for his one and only. You just wanted to hold him forever and never let him go, never letting him go back on another mission, not even another meeting. You wanted him home all the time, you wished for it all the time. You just wanted to be held in his arms, knowing that nothing bad would happen as long as he was here to protect you — to love you.

You slowly turned to face him, a small smile lifting your lips. “Um.. if it’s okay with you, could you get me some water? And maybe something to eat? I don’t remember the last time I even got up, everything hurts like hell.”

With a smile and a nod, he leaves the room. You hear the opening and closing of cabinets, the familiar click-click of the stove igniting. Oh, he didn’t have to cook you anything, why was he being so sweet to you? You were going to literally die, he was about to be the death of you and you didn’t mind one bit.

He pushes the door open with his back against it, holding a water bottle and a plate of food with a few cookies on the side that was just calling your name. He smiles as he sets it down carefully on the nightstand before changing into more comfortable clothes so he could climb into bed with you. He carefully wrapped an arm around you, closing the gap between you as you wasted no time nuzzling into his neck to take in his warmth. He smiled, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he gently caresses your tummy.

You needed this, you really did.

“Is this okay?” He asks, pressing soft kisses against your cheek as you giggle, nodding as you give your heating pad a break for a bit.

“It’s perfect, Leon. . thank you so much for all this. I swear, I don’t deserve you.” You say with a chuckle, shaking your head. Leon deserved so much better, he deserved the world but it only turned its back on him. He’s a slave to the man now, not having the choice but to go on life-threatening missions almost every day, barely receiving a break. His only motivation now is you, and he wanted to be there for you. He’s been through so much pain, you knew how badly he was suffering inside, even when he tried to mask it.

You wish that you could just take all that pain away, lock it up somewhere and toss the key. He didn’t deserve it, any of it.

He smiles before getting comfortable with you, facing the TV as the show continued without interruption. He chuckled at the drama going on between two women, who were fighting over some stupid guy who was probably playing them both anyway. “Okay, what’s going on now?”

You laughed, taking a bite out of your sandwich as you gesture towards the tv, turning up its volume. “Uh, I don’t even know. I think these idiots are in a love triangle with this stupid ass guy, but I’m pretty sure he’s playing them both while trying to get with another chick in the house. Real messy stuff.”

“Sounds pretty stupid. I’m in.” He said, a small smile on his face as he snuggles close to you, giving you all that you need to take your mind off of the pain.

He was home now, and he didn’t mind taking care of his little love.

【 REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! 】

[jungle321jungle]

Something Worth Stealing: Five

“What do you think?”

Truthfully Virgil was terrified at the very prospect. There was a reason each nanny didn’t last long, and Virgil had heard enough horror stories about the Ackroyd boys to avoid them at all costs when he had worked in the past. Hell the only reason he still got some to come in now and then was because the job was so high paying. Mr. Ackroyd knew exactly what he was doing advertising with all those zeroes, he was reeling in any nanny who would skip talking to peers at the sight. And now by some twist of fate that very bait was dangling above Virgil, and even worse there wasn’t anyway he could feasibly afford to ignore it. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked the man in the eye, “I think it is more than a generous offer that I would be happy to accept.”

(Virgil becomes the newest nanny for his very attracti- for Logan.)

Ao3 - Previous Parts - Masterlist

Five

Virgil was burning up. He wasn’t sick or anything, but the nerves surrounding this date had every nerve on fire to the point he was surprised he hadn’t melted into a puddle. Was it possible to get heat stroke while blasting AC in a car? If not, he’d likely be the first victim of such insanity. There was just too much riding on tonight. Sure, romance was on the line- but more than that, his job was on the line, and so were his relationships with Logan’s sons. 

Because what if he did something so horribly stupid tonight that left Logan’s fancy suit covered in fancy dinner? Surely, he’d be fired on the spot. And just like that, no job. No money. He wouldn’t see the twins or Patton. Janus would lose some friends. Janus would never get his own room. He’d-

“Are you okay?”

The deafening silence that was swirling around Virgil began to splinter at the sound of his nephew’s voice. Glancing in the rearview, he could see that Janus had looked up from the book he had been reading- was it too dark to be reading that now? The sun was beginning to set, so he shouldn't be straining his eyes. Virgil opened his mouth to tell his nephew so when he saw Janus frown, “So you’re not okay.”

“No-no! I’m fine. I’m fine! I was just going to say you should stop reading for now. But I’m fine!”

“You said that three times.”

“Because it’s three times the truth.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, yes, um… it doesn’t matter. I'm fine, Janus.”

“No, you’re not. Are you worried about your date?”

“A- a little- just the tiniest bit. It’s been a while since I was even on a date.”

“Was that with the guy who cheated on you?”

“W-what? What?” Virgil sputtered. 

“When I talked to Mom this morning, I told her you were going on a date. And then she said that the last guy was really mean, and he cheated on you, and he made you cry. So she said it’s now my job to watch out for you ‘cause sometimes you have bad taste like she does. But Mr. Logan is nice, so I don’t think you need to be nervous.”

Virgil gave a long and heavy sigh before he couldn’t help but smile, “Well, I’m always grateful to have you on my side, Jan… But what else did your mom say about me? Or my past boyfriends?”

“Nothing really,” Janus shrugged (to Virgil’s relief). “Just that you should take her advice more.”

Virgil gave a frown and mumbled to himself, “Did she tell you she’s a hypocrite too?” 

“What’s that mean?” 

Apparently, Janus had good hearing. Good to know. “I’ll tell you later,” Virgil said, pulling into Logan’s driveway. “For now, let’s head inside.”

Inside the home, Virgil found Logan in the family room talking with three other staff members, likely talking about watching the children for the evening… Virgil wished them luck. Upon realizing their arrival, Logan turned to grave Virgil with a small, slight, barely there smile, which somehow made Virgil’s knees feel like goo. He was dressed nicely (as always)- Logan’s attention snapped back to the few he was speaking to, and hushed voices were heard as they crowded Logan before they abruptly shoved Logan in Virgil’s direction. 

Virgil was about to comment on it, when he noticed that in the second he had turned around Logan’s perfect hairstyle had been messed up the tiniest amount in what was clearly an intentional way. Perhaps those three weren’t discussing babysitting at all, had he asked them for advice? The mental image was one Virgil couldn’t help but smile at. 

“You look nice,” Logan said with a nod. 

“You as well, I-”

“Mr. Logan?” Janus interrupted. 

“What can I do for you, Janus?” Logan asked, redirecting his attention. “If you’re looking for my boys, they’re in Roman’s room.”

“Okay! But first, what’s ‘hypocrite’ mean?”

Virgil gave a heavy sigh as Logan answered the question. “A person who says one thing then does another. Like if I told you to eat your vegetables but I never do. Does that make sense?”

Janus pondered for a moment or two before he nodded and turned to Virgil, “Then my mom’s one for not listening to you but wanting you to listen to her?”

“…She listens sometimes.”

“No, she doesn’t. I’m gonna go upstairs to play. Have fun!”

When his nephew disappeared, Logan let out a slight chuckle, “It sounds like you two are having quite… intellectual conversations.”

Virgil’s huff in reply only made Logan’s smile widen, so he turned away. “Let’s not miss our reservation.”

Dinner did not go as planned. 

Despite arriving at their reservation early- their table had apparently been given away which led to waiting. And upon finally being seated their waiter took the drink and appetizer orders and then promptly ignored their existence. The drinks had eventually found a way to them, but as time passed Virgil had the sneaking feeling that the appetizers would never come. This was only proven correct as the waiter vanished from the floor entirely, and according to the whispers of employees in the dining room- he had left the building entirely. Virgil couldn’t help but want to be a tad nosier, but he caught Logan’s amused gaze. 

“Any more info?” 

Virgil shook his head as he sipped at his near-empty water, “Nothing I can hear from here. But sorry, I forgot what I was saying.”

“I don’t recall myself,” Logan admitted. “I was staring at the couple behind you who received their meal. We have been here far longer than they have.”

“Does the food look good, at least?”

“As hungry as I am, everything does. I neglected to eat lunch today.”

“What? Why?”

“I was distracted by the boys and pulled in different directions. I had to make some calls, and then I had a meeting over Zoom. Ultimately, I didn’t even realize I had missed a meal until I began to get ready. So I simply ate an apple to tide myself over until dinner.”

“That’s not like you at all.”

“I agree. But I digress; how was your day off with Janus?”

“Good, good. I had told him to pick what we would do today, so we ended up at one of those pottery places where kids can paint the pieces. He was very meticulous over a few pieces of dish ware. He wanted a perfect matching set.”

“That’s adorable,” Logan smiled. “I’ve wanted to take my boys to do that, but I have a feeling that Remus would break far more than he’d paint. But he also wouldn’t take kindly to me just taking Roman even if I took him elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“What did you paint?”

“I chose a shark piggy bank because… because it was there? Anyway, I made it purple with different colored polka dots because it annoyed Janus.”

“Brilliant reasoning.”

“I think so.”

“You-”

Logan’s words and Virgil’s train of thought flew off the tracks at that moment as a server walked by, holding a tray of dishes that looked beautiful but also smelled divine. 

“As good as that looks, I regret not choosing a place I am familiar with,” Logan frowned. Apologies.”

“Don’t apologize; you had heard good things about it. It seems like this is an off day. And I appreciate the thought process that we could try something new together.”

“Why do I sense a but coming?”

“However,” Virgil started because it was a different word than ‘but.’ “It is clear we are both starving, and it’s also clear that our food will never get here considering we still have menus. So, would it be such a bad idea to go elsewhere? I know a hole-in-the-wall a few blocks away with the best tacos I’ve ever had.”

Logan didn’t speak for the longest moment. Rather, his piercing eyes stared into Virgil’s as he folded his hands and sat up straighter in his seat. And in that moment Virgil couldn’t stop the strike of fear that shot through him as he wondered if he had accidentally insulted his date- if he had offended his boss. Logan had put in all this effort for tonight and yet, Virgil just wanted to throw it away. He opened his mouth to quickly amend his statement, but Logan spoke first. 

“Couldn't you have said that ages ago? Do they have quesadillas?”

Virgil gave a slight sigh of relief, “Real good ones.”

“No point in bothering for the check, it’ll take forever. I’ll leave more than enough cash for the drinks. Lead the way.”

The food was wonderful, and with it in their stomachs, conversation flowed easily. It was almost scary how easily Virgil forgot he worked for Logan. Right now, they weren’t boss and employee; they were just two (severely overdressed) guys on a date, and that was perfect. There was something alluring about just watching Logan be Logan. Just in the way he spoke and expressed himself as if trying to remain reserved but in the same way allowing Virgil to see his true expressions underneath. Virgil had always known how nice it was to listen to Logan speak of his children, but it was just as nice to hear him speak about his life and dreams. And even nicer was how smoothly he came up with ideas on how to integrate Virgil into them. It was a first date unlike any Virgil had been on, and as Logan took his hand as they walked back to the car- Virgil couldn’t have been more thrilled with that fact.

~~~~

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