#want so badly to draw them and everyone else

[cinnaleaf]

Wildflower | One Shot

Anon Request: Trent x best friend!reader "Wildflower - Billie Eilish" | MASTERLIST

genre: pure angst wc: ~1.6k a/n: thank you for all your requests, i hope my interpretation fuels your angsty little hearts!

You never meant to love him like this.

Being his best friend wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. You were always in the background, like the wildflowers that grow on the side of the road. Delicate, yet resilient and waiting to be seen. You were always right in front of Trent, ready to give him everything but he kept looking past you and you hated it. Why were you still standing there, loving him when he already chose someone else?

Zoë.

You didn't hate her even though you really wanted to. She was pretty much everything you weren't. Her presence lit up any room, like a sunflower basking in the sun, drawing everyone's attention without doing much at all. Then there was you..a little wildflower growing in the shadows. Unnoticed. It wasn't Zoë's fault Trent treated you the way he did and you knew that, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time you saw them together. You tried to ignore it, but you could feel Trent pulling away from you. He was being cold, distant, and mean. You didn't understand why and it hurt.

“I dunno why you're still here, Y/N,” Trent muttered in a sharp tone, pulling his hoodie over his head as he glanced at you. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone like you always did. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable, until now.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” you asked, feeling knots in your stomach. “You're always around,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “like I need you here or something.” His words slapped you in the face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. “If you want me to leave..just say that. You don't have to be so damn rude about it.” Trent scoffed, running his hands over his face before looking back at you with cold eyes. “I'm saying it now, yeah?”

Something had changed, and you didn’t understand why.

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll keep it to myself” was like a mantra you kept repeating to yourself, willing yourself to believe it. You wanted it to be true so badly. You loved him but you wouldn't date admit it to him, especially not now.

You didn’t know he loved you just as much as you loved him. He tried so hard to avoid the feelings he had for you, even if it meant pushing you away. It wasn’t something he was ready to tackle yet. He was dating Zoë in an effort to distract himself from the way he felt about you. 

A couple of weeks later, you were at a random bar. It wasn't your usual spot, but Zoë invited you for whatever reason. She was sitting next to you, stirring her drink with a paper straw that was clearly getting soggy. You weren't close to her like you were with Trent, but she asked you to meet up and curiosity got the best of you. She was complaining for the last fifteen minutes, but you weren't really listening until something she said cut through the noise in your head.

“I don't know what's up with Trent,” Zoë said, sounding frustrated. “He doesn't even touch me like he used to anymore. He's there but he's not at the same time. I don't get it. He'll kiss me but then it's like his mind is somewhere else. It's so frustrating.” You froze as your fingers tightened around the glass in front of you. Every time Zoë told you something about him, it stung. He had been pulling away from you for months, but why was he pulling away from Zoë? Your heart did a stupid little flip, thinking maybe the reason he was acting so weird had to do with something else and not you.

“It's weird though,” Zoë added, not noticing the way your face went stone cold. “Sometimes he'll be staring at me and it's like he's trying, but then he just...doesn't.” Her words lingered in the air, you hated how much they made you yearn for something you never had. You wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him the way she did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your waist. You wanted him to really see you. But you weren't her. You weren't the sunflower in his life and it was crushing you.

“Maybe he's just stressed with the season? He gets intense sometimes…” you offered, knowing that probably wasn't it. All of you were lying. To yourself, and to each other. There was no good answer for any of this. Zoë nodded, continuing to swirl her drink as she pondered. “Maybe,” she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really miss how it used to be when he’d come home from a match and kiss me like I was the only thing he cared about.” 

The thought of Trent kissing her and holding onto her like she was everything he needed made your chest tighten. You spent years being his best friend, hoping for scraps of affection just to not get any at all. Meanwhile, Zoë got all of it, even if it seemed to be fading.

It wasn't fair, but life never is. C'est la vie.

You stood in the stands of Anfield, surrounded by cheering fans. You shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. It was cold but Zoë's words still swirled around in your head, making you shiver. You didn't even know why you were at the match, but you were. You always went to every single one. Watching Trent move across the pitch was fun to look at any other time; he was a force out there. Would he even acknowledge you or look in the crowd for you like he used to? Or would you just be another face lost in a sea of red? You caught sight of Zoë a few rows in front of you, looking picture perfect as always. She was laughing with her friends, showing not a care in the world. Maybe they fixed things?

For the next 90 minutes your mind kept drifting, not focusing on the match at all. You wondered what it would be like having Trent come home to you, kissing you and telling you how much fun he had on the pitch. You used to be that person, albeit not in the way you wanted to be because there were never any kisses shared. Suddenly, it hit you in the middle of the match. You weren't jealous of Zoë, you were jealous of the version of Trent that was open and affectionate toward her. The version you never had and probably would never receive.

The crowd erupted into cheers after Liverpool secured the win. You should've been celebrating along with them but instead, you felt hollow. Your eyes followed Trent as he jogged off the pitch, he was in celebratory mode, joking with the team and laughing. He glanced at the stands for a quick second, and you thought maybe he was looking for you. Your heart did that stupid little flip again, even though you knew better. His eyes landed on Zoë and your stomach dropped. 

You couldn't do this anymore.

Without taking a second to think, you slipped out of your seat and headed to the exit as the noise of the stadium faded into the background. You didn't want to be there when he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. You can't look. Not tonight. Not ever again.

Your phone pinged as you made your way through the crowd but you ignored it. It was probably just a group chat about the match or a text from someone checking to see if you were still at the stadium. It really didn't matter anymore because you weren't coming back. You pushed through the exit, walking for what seemed like forever. You didn't want to stop because stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think about Trent right now. He was never going to see you the way you saw him and you were done waiting for it to happen. Did he even notice that you were gone?

He noticed. 

The seat you always sat in was empty. He got used to scanning the crowd for you, it was his usual routine. You would always give him a smile or a thumbs up, but tonight there was nothing. 

Zoë was next to him talking about dinner plans, but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he knew he messed up. Something in his heart tugged, it was a feeling that had been there for a couple of months now. He kept ignoring it because it was easier that way. Pushing you away and acting like nothing changed was easier than admitting he loved you. And now you weren't there.

He glanced at Zoë, who was on her phone posting a picture they took post match. She didn't notice he was quiet, but he knew you would've noticed. You were always there through everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wins, and the losses. You were his rock, his constant. But he was so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he was scared to admit you were more than a friend to him. 

You were his wildflower, always there, waiting for him to see you. For the first time he realized he was too busy chasing the sun to notice the beauty growing that was right beside him for years. 

You were his everything, and now you were gone.

[apllecrash]

A dollop of milk and seven sugars! Wouldn’t be the same with six

[qilinkisser]

uuuUUGHGHGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

[windupaidoneus]

now some people may not like to hear it but even the worst people who exist are still people & there is no human being who has More right than others to decide whether others deserve to live or die (does not mean i personally condemn murder in self defense or anything of the sort or killing fascists or whatever i'm just saying as a baseline This Is How it Is) & this is why the death penalty is not a good thing no matter how good & trustworthy the people in any government might be. people on average also deserve the chance to learn to do better. & no, someone who's been forcefed propaganda their entire life will not let go of that deeply entrenched mindset so easily, it's not particularly unrealistic & it absolutely sucks to deal with but in the context of tangibly working toward world peace it's also not an issue to try & help such people both in material ways & in helping them learn better rather than cut them down or abandon them to a grim fate. all this to say that's why i don't think garlemald is written badly, as unpleasant as the experience might be. walks off the stage

[imwetforyourmom]

want ‘em inside you?

summary: y/n couldnt help but compliment the way her boyfriends hands looked.

warnings: publicity, fingering, swearing

I actually have a replica of this on wp but extremely badly written

~

y/ns eyes were trained on matts hands, currently laying flat on the table infront of her.

she studied each prominent thing, including veins, wrinkles and the tiniest of dots all over.

she couldnt help but fantasize about how they would feel hugging her, how the butterflies would escape in her stomach when holding onto her hips, the softness of his palms connecting with hers when interlacing their fingers together, the warmth she would feel when they were placed onto her thighs, squeezing and rubbing, how lust would overtake her thoughts and senses when they wrapped around her throat.

she bit her lip and sunk into the seat behind her, thinking about all the ways matt could please her with his hands both intentionally and unintentionally.

matt glanced to his side, having to look behind himself for a moment to see his girlfriend slouched into the cushion of the booth, her lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushed and her eyes staring at him — his hands specifically.

“y/n?” he mumbled, leaning back some to get her attention.

y/n shut her eyes for a moment, ridding the sexual thoughts of matt, before opening her eyes again and looking into his eyes.

“hm?” she hummed, her words dry and quiet. “what’re you thinking about?” he asked, his words quiet aswell, in caution to not draw attention the the pair, as they were currently at a dinner with friends.

she swallowed and looked at both his left and right eye, before replying smallyly “your hands.”

“what about them?” he brought his hands up off his lap and scanned them, his eyes scanning the lengthy and slim structure of his fingers. looking to see what she was staring at.

“i- I like them” she muttered, feeling embarrassment flood through her, whats not embarrassing about staring at your boyfriends hands thinking such sexual thoughts about what he could do to her?

“yeah?” he teased, his eyes narrowing slightly, he glanced around the table, seeing everyone else in their own conversations, paying absolutely no attention to the two.

he looked back at her and whispered into her ear “want ‘em inside you?” he spoke so calmly and plainly, as if he hadnt just offered to do such sexual acts in public.

y/n felt her heartbeat increase in speed throughout her entire body, her cheeks going hot and the spot between her legs aching to be touched.

what simple words had such a strong affect on someone.

she bit harder into her lip, before subtly nodding her head. staring into matts eyes she parted her lips and took in a deep breath.

“please” she mumbled, keeping her voice very, very quiet. breaking the eye contact every so often to glance around the table, ensuring no one would notice them.

it may not look dirty or anything to anyone, really it looked like a couple innocently talking about something quietly. but y/n was truly just paranoid.

matt smirked and looked away, his hand slowly crept onto her thigh, his cold fingertips sending goosebumps all over y/ns body. her soft and warm skin comforting the cold and rough pads of matts fingertips.

he hummed as he wrapped his hand around her thigh entirely, his four fingers on her inner thigh whilst his thumb rested on the outside of her thigh, gently rubbing small circles, in a way of starting off slowly or beginning at an easy pace.

his hand kept their grip on her leg, squeezing gently every once in a while, but progressively the squeezing became harder and more often.

eventually, y/n huffed, beginning to go impatient. all she wanted in the world — as of right now was her boyfriends fingers, of course she had them.. but she wanted them inside of her, in particular.

there was no doubt she was already so very grateful for the simple touch on her thigh, as it was making the butterflies in her stomach flutter more and more, soon enough there were only butterflies in her stomach.

she breathed out smallyly, feeling matts fingertips creep into her panties.

each time his fingertips moved even closer to where she ached she bit her lip, preparing herself to make no noise and to draw absolutely no attention the the two.

matt looked away and began conversation with his brother, chris, whom sat next to him.

whilst having such an innocent conversation with his brother, he was not doing such innocent things to his girlfriend, such as rubbing small tight circles on her clit.

y/n dug her teeth harder into her bottom lip, finding it harder to keep quiet and still in her seat.

matt moved his finger down her clit to her entrance, slightly dipping a digit, going slow in order to prepare and let some pressure off her shoulders of staying quiet.

he slowly pushed his finger further in he kept pushing in slowly, agonizingly slow until he was knuckle deep inside his girlfriend.

he pulled his finger almost all the way out, until pushing right back in, but at a faster pace rather than his previous pace.

he continued pumping in and out of her, his finger gradually going faster until he heard slight wet sounds, reminding him he needed to go a bit slower so no one heard such sounds.

y/n took in a deep breath before stopping her breathing fully, in some way to relax and calm her nerves.

her eyes widened, her lips parted and her eyebrows furrowed at the suddenness of another finger inside her, both matts ring and middle finger pumping inside her.

y/n closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath.

she leaned forwards, leaning her elbow onto the table and placing her chin on her palm, she lowered her mouth into the side of it and dug her teeth into the skin.

she closed her eyes for a moment as a small and tiny grunt exited her mouth, it wasn’t very loud as her mouth was stuffed with the side of her hand, ultimately muffling her sounds.

“y/n”

she snapped her eyes back open when she heard her name, she looked to see where the voice had come from, her eyes landing on the culprit, the girl sitting next to her, but on the side of the booth, where as y/n and matt were sitting inside the booth, where the curve was.

“yes?” she moved her mouth away from her hand, but rested her chin on her hand.

“when do you think ill be able to come over next? I havent seen you in so long…” the girl, kirara, rambled on and on. her words going through y/ns ear and right out the other.

y/n was way too focused on the way matts fingers felt inside her, the knot in her stomach tightening.

she mumbled a “mhm” “yeah” etc every so often, absolutely none of kiraras words registering in y/ns head.

all she could think about was the pleasure she was experiencing, the feeling of matts long and slim digits sliding in and out of her so easily, but the pleasure so overwhelming.

her walls clenched around his fingers and her thighs began shaking, in which both letting matt know she was very, very close.

he smirked to himself, playing it off as a little grin from his brothers joke. knowing his joke was no way near funny, he was smirking from how easily y/n was crumbling into his fingers.

his fingers held such power over her and he couldnt help but take advantage of it, knowing his simple fingers could do such things to y/n.

he could only pump his fingers into her a few more times until she came around his fingers.

she breathed out heavily, feeling relief of no pressure in her stomach and no more pressure of thinking someone would see.

he pulled out, so so fucking slow, just to make sure y/n felt every single inch of his fingers leaving her.

he grabbed a napkin off the table and wiped his middle and ring finger off. despite how much he wanted to lick her release off. he couldnt do it here even if he had wanted to.

he lightly tucked the napkin underneath y/ns thighs, cleaning up her mess.

he put the napkin by his leg, before moving his once slick fingers now dry, on her thigh, gently rubbing his thumb on the outside of her thigh.

1462 words.

tags

@luverboychris @luvsturns @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @leah-loves-lilies

[hargreeves-duncan]

Hey, I read your last Five fics which I absolutely loved and I was wondering if I could request a (Five x Reader) or (Five x OC) in which Five betrays the MC with Lila in the subway and when they come back MC leaves him and meets someone else who she falls deeply in love with (probably married her new partner and even has children) and years later Five finds her and he tries to fix everything because he realized that whatever happened with Lila was not real love and then he witnesses MC with her new family and realizes that it could’ve been him if only he would’ve treasured her love and stayed loyal to her?

I just love angst with a happy ending for the person who was betrayed and a miserable life for the traitor.

a/n: i’m inclined to agree, bad people deserve to get what’s coming to them!! i know everyone really wanted a pt. 2 to the cheating!Five fic and that’s what this turned into so… hope you enjoy!❤️

summary: you’ve moved on, five’s still recovering from the life that could’ve been

warnings: cheating

word count: 2.2k

tags: @snixx2088

pt. 1

Five checked the address in his notepad for the hundredth time since he’d left his apartment. He looked back up at the house with its neat entryway and wide, glorious front garden. There were cream roses spiralling around the white picket fences and he wondered if you were the one who’d painted them. You'd always had a knack for fixing things up and making them shine better than they had without you, himself included. Your entire house, no, home, was beautiful - but what else did he expect? It was yours, after all.

He took a deep breath, wringing out his hands that were already sweating profusely. He hadn’t felt nerves like these in years. It had been so long since you’d last seen him and your life looked so perfect and picturesque without him in it that he felt selfish for dirtying your lawn with his presence.

Things had been difficult during the split, you couldn’t even hold his eye or be alone in the same room as him after the events of Christmas Eve. But even after everything, you’d still been straight with him, and civil too, when you told him that you were going to stay somewhere else for a while. You'd needed some time before the two of you could be close again and, of course, he’d agreed. To tell the truth, at the time he hadn’t even minded. He had Lila then. Why was there any need for you to stay around?

But after a while, she had left too. For Lila, their seven years together really only had been a fling, a spur of the moment. She went back to her husband, her family. And Diego, being softer than you were, let her, no matter what she’d done or how badly she’d hurt him. The two of them had pushed forward and eventually they’d made it to the other side. They weren’t the same couple as they had been, but they were doing better, and for them that was enough.

After that, Five had grown bitter towards you and the way you’d reacted. Why couldn’t you see things the way Diego had? Why hadn’t you taken him back and reassured him that you would fix it all, like his brother had done for Lila? That was how things were supposed to go.

He was angry at Lila for a while too, for choosing her family over the future he wanted with her. He hadn't understood how their affair was formed by circumstance, not love. He knew better now.

Looking back, a small part of him actually respected you more for turning him away. It was strong of you to choose yourself for once and he was proud of how you’d pushed through, even when he had begged and pleaded for you to take him back. 

He wouldn’t do that today, he promised himself, as he marched on and up the steps of your front porch. He brushed his hair out of his face and then he reached up, knocking on the door. He heard the soft thump of feet on the hardwood floors draw closer.

The door opened and there you stood, smiling, “Hi!” You paused as you registered who it was that stood in front of you. Shocked, you said, “Oh! You are not the mail.”

Five laughed softly, shaking his head, “Uh… I am not, no.” He silently looked over you, taking in the ways you’d changed since he last saw you. Your hair was slightly longer than it used to be, but it looked good, suited you. As did the outfit you were wearing. He didn't dare to say that out loud though.

“I… Hi, Five. What can I do for you?” You asked, stepping out onto the porch and gently closing the door behind you. He’d missed your soft-spoken voice and hearing it made a dreamy smile form on his face.

“I wanted to check on you, see how you’ve been.” He gestured to your front door, “May I…?”

You hesitated for a moment but then you sighed, nodding and smiling weakly, “Yeah, of course. Come on in.” You say, opening the door again and leading him inside. You’re walking three strides ahead of him as you ask, “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

“Uh, yeah. Coffee would be great, actually.” He says, blinking up at you in slight surprise as he steps into your home. He was expecting more resistance. The interior of your home is just as nice as the outside. It’s warm and so clearly full of the love that you’ve put into it. His eyes are drawn to the pictures on the shelf in the walkway.

There are a few of you with his siblings. He’s not surprised about that. In the wake of your divorce, it was you that they’d sided with and, even now, they were still treading lightly around Lila and him at family functions. What does surprise him are the two children that Klaus has his arms wrapped around in the family portrait at some celebration or other. They feature in several photos, dressed in pretty dresses and sporting toothy grins in almost every one.

Before he can overthink it, your voice is calling out to him, “Five?” You poke your head out of the kitchen door and he smiles resignedly. He stands up and follows you into the kitchen. He sits on one of the stools at the island.

The only sound comes from you, pouring out his coffee. You fetch yourself a water and then slide his mug towards him. He smiles gently, taking the warm beverage into his hands, “Thank you, love.”

Leaning on the counter, opposite him, your head snaps up to look at him as you laugh nervously. Catching his mistake, Five shakes his head, laughing a little himself, “Sorry. I guess it's still a force of habit.”

“It’s fine.” You say with a small smile, sipping from your own glass. The silence becomes comfortable. There was something familiar about this routine, enjoying the quiet company of one another and it settles any nerves left in Five.

Steadying his breath, his eyes search the kitchen for answers of what your life has looked like these last few years. More than a few times, he’d asked his siblings and they’d given little or sometimes even nothing to work with. He wished he still knew your ins and outs like he used to.

He finds his answers hanging up in a frame on the far wall. It’s a nice photo of you, your happiness shines out of it and watches over the room. There’s someone else in it too. Five doesn’t recognise him but by the placement of his hands, he knows what he must mean to you.

Five clears his throat, pointing to the photo with his mug, “Who’s the guy?”

You look up and feel your cheeks flame as you find the photo you had taken on your last vacation, “He’s my partner.” You say and your smile is shy as you talk about him. One mention of this guy and you’re already indescribably smile-y.

It makes Five’s stomach churn when you say, “We’ve been together for nearly five years now.”

“Oh, wow…” He says, eyebrows raising. He’s trying and failing miserably to mask his surprise and pain. It’s not as if he expected you to come running back into his arms with some crazy love confession or anything, but he didn’t think you’d have moved on either.

What hurts the most is how happy you look to be talking about your new partner, your eyes lit up with affection that used to be reserved for him, “That’s… that’s amazing, congratulations.”

You smile softly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you set your glass down, “Thank you.”

“And the kids in those photos in the hallway…?” Five says, glancing over his shoulder as if they’ll come barreling in at any second. He’s not sure he could face two girls with eyes just like yours staring back at him.

You nod, “They’re mine, yeah. They’re three. At pre-school right now, but, you know…” You answer, shrugging and smiling at the thought of your twin little girls.

After your time at The Commission, you’d been terrified of the mother you'd be. Some days it still felt like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to turn into a cruel, awful person. But, you hadn't so far and your partner was always there to soothe you when those thoughts started to creep up on you.

You were still learning that it was okay to be a mother and have had your own life before that as an assassin. Being a good killer didn’t stop you from being a good mother and you were more than capable of giving your girls the love they deserved. Everything you did was for the good of them and you were doing an amazing job at giving them a happy and completely normal life.

“Jesus, wow…” Five laughs to himself, running a hand over his face as he looks back at you. He’s speechless, hearing about the wonderful life that you’ve built yourself. He feels a deep-rooted guilt spring up in him. He never gave you that life but it was plain to see how much you craved it and how you were thriving in it.

He’d spent so long saying that maybe, one day, in between all of the chaos of your lives, you’d find time for a quiet life like this. He’d spent every waking moment pushing the future and its commitments as far away as he could, arguing that all he wanted was to focus on you whilst he had you in his arms. But he had never given you what you wanted and now you’d found it with someone else.

Swallowing down the ache in his chest, he pulled his mug closer to himself, seeking out the warmth of it on his palms to ground him, “You look really happy.”

“I am, I really am.” You say, smiling softly at him. You were happy that Five had come here today, that you could get some true closure on your time together, it felt like a lifetime ago now. Sunlight poured into the kitchen and your bracelet shimmered under its rays, a dazzling silver.

A strained smile makes its way onto Five’s face at the sight of it, yet another symbol of the fact that didn’t belong to him anymore. It hurt to admit it but silver suited you far better than gold ever did, and he’s sure that there’s a metaphor somewhere in there but he wasn't ready to face the truth behind it yet.

You take another sip of water and there’s a peaceful silence that falls over the room that gives you both the chance to absorb everything that’s passed between you in the last two decades. You look over his features and tilt your head to the side, “What about you, though? How’re you doing?”

Five could answer with what he’s really thinking - that he’s sorry for putting your dreams on the back-burner and that he didn't treasure you the way should've the first time around. He wants to tell you that if you go with him right now and give it all up that he can be the one to provide for you instead and he wants to tell you that he would be so much better than your new partner ever could - but he won’t, he promised he wouldn't.

Instead, he smiles weakly, shrugging his shoulders as he sits up, “I’m doing okay.”

You’ve said it yourself, you’re happy as you are and, unlike him, you're not hung up on the 'what ifs' and the 'could've beens'. You don't need him anymore and he's not selfish enough to risk ruining your happiness just to make some pathetic promise that you both know he won't keep.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad.” You smile and the genuinity in your voice is the real kicker. You’re such a good person that you still care enough to want to know that he’s alright after everything, when he's still weighing up whether he should ruin your relationship or not.

He can’t help but question if he ever deserved you in the first place.

There’s a knock at the door and the both of you jump slightly. You laugh, “That must be the mail.” You set your glass down, padding out of the room.

He chuckles to himself, nodding, “Looks like it.” He mutters, finishing the dregs of his coffee and places the mug down on the counter as he stands up. He has to get out before he ruins your life all over again with words that you don't want to hear.

Walking back into the room with two boxes on your hip, you watch as he picks up his coat, “Oh! Please, don’t feel rushed, you don’t have to leave yet. I don’t have to go get the girls for another few hours.”

Five shakes his head, “No, it's alright. I’ll get out of your hair.” He says, walking into the hallway, “Thank you, by the way, for the coffee.”

“Of course, you’re welcome.” You say, following behind him as he walks out of the door.

He hovers on the porch and you smile kindly at him, “Just... please, don’t be a stranger, Five.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to."

[atrwriting]

I cannot shake the thought of Logan (any era) just being infatuated with a bimbo reader! Wearing pink or light colors all the time. Short and cute little outfits that definitely get him riled up even when they don’t mean to. Basically just Logan fucking them dumb like the little bimbo they are🤭 (SORRY NOT SORRY)

anon ur onto something with this one hunni 🤌🤌

———

pretty in pink:

everyone thought that logan would only like people like a school teacher or jean — but that wasn’t always the case, no. logan’s real type? the type of girl that pushed every bad thought, memory, or nightmare from his brain? the type of girl that forced logan to remember that there were some good parts of lie? the type of girl that reminded him what it was like to be a fucking man?

a fucking angel of a woman.

oh, god — you were something. you were it for him. you had the type of innocent, doe-eyed expression that caused him to choke for a second — get the hiccups for the first time in decades. you looked soft — so soft, almost too soft for him.

he’d come to your bakery every now and then — not wanting to draw too much attention. you only wore light and bright colors, the kind that he never reached for when he had a choice. you were like bubble gum to him — sweet and light, ready for him and only him.

he didn’t want to be weird, no — he couldn’t. what if he lost you? his never ending days were growing longer, and longer and he needed something to hold onto — even if it was just a cup of black coffee and a muffin two (and if he was greedy) or three times a week.

“can’t i interest you in something else, sir?” you giggled, pausing while you rung his order. “you’re the consistent type, don’t want to fix somethin’ that ain’ broke — but i bet i could find you something you like.”

he let his lips give the faintest smile, but inside he was fucking screaming. the slight southern twang in your voice was enough for him to want to fork over his entire wallet to you. you had your pretty pastel scarves wrapped around his ankles and wrists and, ugh — would he give anything to bite into like the peach you were.

“i trust you, darlin — whatever you think i’ll like,” he rasped, trying to keep his cool.

when he saw your eyes sparkle, and a natural blush mix with the kind you brushed on — he knew he had you. even if it wasn’t as needy as the thing inside him — oh, he knew he had you.

he started coming around more and more after that — sometimes at night, right before close. hoping for the chance to take you out after. he noticed everything about you after the day he called you “darlin’” — the way your eyes raked up and down him when you first noticed him, the way your hips would sway a little bit extra in those tiny flowy skirts, and the new shade of light pink that was always on those perfect, supple lips.

oh, fuck — he was down bad for you. so bad.

it wouldn’t be for another month or two when the soft skin of your palm slipped between his fingers and pulled him into your office, under the guise of wanting to “show him around.” he could’ve tutted at the pick up line — but he didn’t care. how could he when you plopped yourself on top of your desk, and spread your knees ever so slightly?

you couldn’t help but stare as you watched the big, bad logan walk toward you with his hands in his pockets. there was a hunger in his eyes, one for more than just sweet treats. you giggled at the sight and folded your bottom lip into your mouth — tasting the subtle hint of strawberry that you hoped logan liked.

“been feeding me the best for months now, doll — you’re gonna let me thank you?”

his hands ran up and down the soft skin of your thighs, wanting oh so badly to travel underneath the thin and short skirt. you could feel the want from him, the need — because you knew it was the same as yours.

there was no time wasted when you slipped off those pretty pink panties and sling-shotted them at him. his eyes darkened when he caught them, stuffing them into his back pocket. he captured your lips in a kiss that made you arch your back into him — clinging to him for support. he couldn’t help but grab onto your perfect hips and roll them against his as the juices from your pussy leaked onto the rough denim of his jeans. you whined into his ear at the feeling, keening into his touch.

“that’s it, doll,” he spoke, thrusting two fingers past your folds. “i’ll take care of ya.”

he pushed your foreheads together, and your eyes drifted closed as your mouth hung open. he watched with an intense gaze at how those petal pink lips fell open for him — just for him. he kissed you hard, drinking in every whimper that was just for him.

he would’ve thrown your body down onto the desk and fucked you well into the night — but you wouldn’t let him, no. you were his good girl, and you wanted to please him oh so bad. you made him sit you both down on your desk chair, you bouncing on top of of his iron thighs. he made you take everything off then — your bra, panties, the world — except for those pretty pink socks and head band. your curls bounced on your shoulders, curling around the peaks of your nipples — and logan pawed at them hungrily.

your mind was frosting at this point — soft, creamy, ready to mold however he wanted you. you felt his hands roam up and down the soft skin of your abdomen, stopping to pinch at your breasts as they bounced for him, and just for him.

“that’s it, doll,” he grunted. “show me you can make a mess for me, yeah? be my good girl — that’s right —“

oh, you were — you so were. the smell and taste of him drove you mad — wanting nothing more than to have him stuff you full of his cum and have you both watch it leak out.

“please, lo —“ you whined, your back arching more as you caught the sweetest angle. “‘m so close for you —“

“fuck, that’s my girl —“ he wrapped his arms around you then, thrusting up inside your pussy. “too much for you, baby, huh? couldn’t take it?”

it sent you over the edge — causing you to fall forward and catch yourself with your hands on his shoulders. you rolled down onto his cock as the walls of your pussy tightened, tightened, and tightened. little gasps left your lips, but logan only heard them as cries — cries for him.

“yeah —“ his voice was gruff now, long and drawn out. primal even, only wanting to encourage you to let go. his hands were pulling at the flesh of your ass now, slapping at the sensitive girl. “keep cumming for me, doll. show me you can make a mess.”

“fucking god, lo —“ there were tears at your eyes now, mixing with the black of your mascara.

the sight before logan? his pretty in pink doll that liked to cook for him, crying for him because she felt so good? nothing better in the world. absolutely nothing. his balls tightened at the sight, forcing his hips up into your pussy. his lips wrapped around the tip of your nipple — sucking on it greedily as you rode out your orgasm, shivering against him. he came with another thrust, holding you down onto his cock.

“there’s my pretty girl,” he whispered, voice cracking as a bliss formed in his eyes. “so, so good for me.”

———

eeee sorry if it sucks love u <3333 -L

[sinsirellaxx]

toxic boys x ethreal!stunning!reader

Like shes SO pretty that everyone has a crush on her,attention is always on her,shes just beautiful and the face of Hogwarts

Slytherin Boys – Their partner is the face of Hogwarts

Warning: Toxic boys! Not proofread as always.

Mattheo …

… is honestly torn between loving and hating it. He was obsessed in love with your beauty, and he basked in the envious glares thrown his way for being your boyfriend, but he also absolutely hated the idea that other people probably got off on you.

… wants to hide you from the world sometimes – when he is feeling low or whenever something triggers his jealousy, which obviously happens way too often to be considered healthy anymore.

… would try to make you wear modest clothing and constantly told you that you did not need any make-up or whatever else you used to enhance your beauty.

… would be more aggressive with you admirers behind your back – it got worse the deeper he felt for you.

… can be mean to you, whenever you don’t agree with him and stubbornly insist to dress up.

“Babe, you are beautiful the way you are. There is no need for all of that – or are you so desperate for attention?”

Theodore …

… is cocky because he finally found his equal. He knew that all the girls were in love with him and that even some boys’ eye lingered on him for longer than necessary, so it was normal for him to have the prettiest partner – right? Right. At least until you outshone even him.

… would clench his jaw whenever the two of you were stopped by some pathetic male asking you for something – anything. A scoff leaving his lips whenever you agreed to help with whatever problem – cause, how dare you? You were just too sweet for your own good.

… screamed internally, whenever you cancelled your plans with him, because a fourth year desperately needed tutoring. His mood ruined for the day. His anger would find its peak when he would see you in Hogsmeade with that student.

… would be annoyed by you at some point. The less people saw him the more he actually started to dislike you.

“They are just using you because you are so gullible. It’s annoying really.”

Lorenzo …

… immediately hates the attention – he should be the only one to look at you with those eyes and the thought of half of the school staring at you lovestruck made his skin crawl with badly contained anger.

… would go out of his way to draw the people’s attention to himself instead. If that didn’t work, he’d just start claiming you publicly: kissing you in the corridors whenever no professor was around, leaving hickeys in obvious places and always having an arm wrapped around your waist possessively.

… his patience snaps if one of his boys actually shows interest in you.

“Love, come here … let’s skip that double-date … you wouldn’t even like my friend – he’s an ass.”

Draco …

… wears you on his arm like a rolex Daytona.

… every compliment directed at you fed his own ego.

… bought you designer clothes and expensive jewelry to make you stand out even more – honestly, he would treat his partner like a dress up doll.

… would hate it if you were to pay attention to any of your admirers though. You were his – and you were definitely not allowed to engage in any conversation with those dimwits without him by your side.

“Doll, would you please wear that pretty black dress that I got you last week? We’ll be having dinner with the boys.”

Blaise …

… is stressed. He knows the minds of pervy teenagers, and it unsettles him to know that so many are obsessed with you.

… would wake up extra early to accompany you to breakfast and/or your first class.

… would run through the halls to get to you as quickly as possible if you didn’t have the same classes.

… would probably also threaten someone that made you feel uncomfortable or belittle them in front of a crowd, always watching them rush away with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Don’t worry, babe. He deserved that.”

Tom …

… doesn’t notice your admirers at first. But when he does … he hates it. Absolutely detests the attention you get.

… would find it annoying and inconvenient.

… would drag you along if someone tried talking to you and just force you away from that person.

… would scare everyone who approaches you – and due to his friends and minions he always knows about everything – even if he wasn’t with you when it happened.

… would definitely murder someone if they took it too far without batting an eye.

“The annoying Gryffindor boy disappeared? How curious.”

[rogueddie]

A Spot in My Life T | 953 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is keeping a spare sweater or blanket in the car because they always get cold

Steve Harrington is a bitch.

It's something that Eddie knew, all through high school, but he had thought that Steve had somehow became a new person- thanks to the Upside Down and constantly almost seeing the world end.

Steve isn't a bad guy, he can admit. He's still trying to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they're ok, even checking in with Eddie in his own way.

But he's very sly about it, hiding it being playful jabs, eye rolls and cocked hips.

It rubs him the wrong way. And it's only made worse by how much Eddie still likes him. It's as if the bitchiness only draws him in more, even as it makes his chest burn with irritation.

He tries to avoid Steve for as long as he can. He knows that finally befriending him like they both want will only end badly, but he knows he can't resist the temptation.

He enjoys the time before as much as he can, reveling in how often Steve will try to corner him so they can hang out, how much he whines and pleads and pushes. He enjoys the illusion that Steve could feel anything for him like he does for Steve.

And, when they finally do hang out, his fears are confirmed.

Steve is amazing. He's funnier than he comes across as at first too. He pays attention to what Eddie says and tries to get him anything he wants.

He's the type of friend that anyone would fight for, Eddie is sure. It explains how he ended up so popular in high school too.

If Eddie had known what Steve is truly like, he'd have been lining up for a scrap of his attention like everyone else.

"They're assholes," Steve explains, when Eddie finally asks about his old lackeys. "Tommy always took shit a step too far. I didn't need them. Probably shouldn't have befriended them in the first place."

"They were your friends," Eddie reminds him.

Steve sighs, leaning back. "Yeah, I guess. Just wish I'd realised sooner, how they were getting."

He never complains about the kids, not genuinely. In the quiet moments, when Steve is honest with an almost painful degree of vulnerability, he talks about how amazing the kids are. He talks about how honored he is to be friends with Dustin.

It only makes Eddies feelings inch ever closer to 'the L word'.

"You should talk to him," Robin suggests. "He really is amazing."

"I know, but... guys that are ok with lesbians still get weird about gay men, you know?"

"Yeah, but Steve isn't like that. Did he ever tell you the full story of how I came out to him?"

"It was after the Russian torture drugs, right?"

"We were in the bathroom, near the cinema. I thought we might have puked it all up, so we decided to test it, ask each other questions. So, I asked him if he was ever in love..."

"Oh... oh no."

"Oh yes. He liked me, told me so, and that's when I came out to him."

"Holy shit, Robin."

"But that's my point. He was a little surprised, sure, but he started making jokes, like, immediately. Didn't phase him at all. He got with it immediately. We're just friends, and that's not a problem for him."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back so it thumps into the wall behind him. "But that just makes him more hot!"

The story plagues his mind, to the point that it's the only thing he can think about when he picks Steve up for their next hang out.

In the dead of winter, Steve feels the cold worse than anyone else that Eddie knows. He runs hot, and the sudden temperature drops brings out the worse in him.

He's shivering when he climbs into Eddie's car.

"Fuck, why isn't your heating on?" He whines.

"It's broke," Eddie reminds him. "It's fine, don't worry."

"Don't worry? I'm gonna get hypothermia, Eddie! I don't want to turn into an ice sc- what is that?"

He takes the blanket that Eddie had reached back to grab, staring at it.

"It's a blanket."

"No shit, I mean... it's yellow."

"Yeah? You like yellow."

"You got this for me?"

"You see anyone else shivering in my van?"

"No, it..." Steve pauses, glancing at Eddie before slowly wrapping the blanket around himself. "Sorry, uh... thank you. This is, um, nice."

"it's nothing."

"It's not. Just- take the thanks, Ed."

"Alright, alright."

They're silent for the rest of the drive. It's so unusual for them that it has Eddie nervous, glancing at Steve every other moment.

When they finally pull to a stop, Eddie turns to Steve, who stays where he is. He stares out the front window for a moment, before turning to face Eddie.

"Are you alright?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, I am. Enjoying the warmth."

"That all?"

"... yeah."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

"Wh- hey, I'm a good liar!" He tries to glare, but quickly backs down with a huff. "Alright, fine, but it's really sappy! Don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Oh, no, the horror."

"Shut up. I was just thinking about how, like... there's so many little things in your life that are for me. My tapes in your room, spare clothes in your closet, this blanket... I really appreciate it, man. You've made space for me in your life. It means a lot to me."

"Oh, right. That's... yeah. Of course, Steve. You're always welcome. I love- uh... spending time with you."

"Good. I love spending time with you too."

"Good."

"Great."

Steve's smile is wide and goofy. He's sure that his own is just as cheesy.

[steveseddie]

limited time offer

steddie | rated: t | wc: 2,3 k | tags: vol. 2 missing scene, pre-relationship, eddie munson needs a hug, hurt/comfort

click here to read on ao3

Steve starts doing headcounts. 

After what happened with Max at the cemetery, Steve starts going over a list of names in his head, checking off each of his friends once he makes sure they haven’t been taken by Vecna- like ticking off boxes on a very fucked up grocery list.

He starts with Max every time. By now she has probably noticed the way his eyes constantly dart to her or the way he visibly relaxes when he notices the headphones still hanging from her neck, but at least she hasn’t said anything about it. 

Next is Nancy- the sight of her eyes rolled back into her head still too vivid in Steve’s mind. Then is Robin, Henderson, the Sinclairs-

After Skull Rock, Steve adds Eddie’s name to the list. He doesn’t know if they can be considered friends yet but he is part of their group now and Steve isn’t letting anyone else from his group almost die again at the hands of Vecna.

It’s only been a few minutes since Steve last did one of his headcounts- sitting outside the RV making homemade bombs.

But as the battle draws closer, Steve grows more and more anxious about losing one of his friends so after toasting to killing Vecna slash Henry slash One, Steve’s eyes roam the field where they’re preparing for battle while going over the list in his head.

Max and Nancy sawing off shotguns. Check. 

Robin pouring gasoline into a bottle. Check. 

The Sinclairs building spears. Check. 

Eddie and Dustin building shields- and sparring? Check. 

Steve breathes a little easier after that. 

His eyes linger on the last pair. He can’t hear what Eddie is telling Dustin but he can see the way they’re both smiling. 

That is until Dustin turns his attention back to his shield and Eddie’s face crumbles, his smile disappearing completely as his expression turns anxious and terrified. Steve watches as he takes a few shuddering breaths, his hands flexing at his sides. Even from a distance, Steve can tell they’re shaking. 

Steve sighs. He knows how hard it is- being hurled into this interdimensional monster fighting bullshit. This is Steve’s fourth time dealing with it and he can’t say that it gets any easier. And for his first time, Eddie already had it worse than any of them. He’s been alone for most of it and he also has people coming after him on top of everything. 

This whole time Steve has been waiting for him to snap, for him to say fuck it and run off, for him to start screaming or crying but he hasn’t done any of that. He’s still here- scared shitless but here, trying to put on a brave face. And Steve knows all about that so he can see right through Eddie’s act. What he doesn’t know is what to do about it. If this was one of the kids or Robin or even Nancy, Steve would know but he hardly knows Eddie and he doesn’t know what he needs. 

He looks like he needs a hug. Steve saw Eddie’s face when Henderson hugged him at Skull Rock, the relief written all over it. When the kid pulled back, Steve felt the urge to walk up to Eddie and hug him next, even if the only contact they’d had at that point was when Eddie pinned against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck.

Steve wanted to hug him again in the Upside Down- every time Eddie flinched or curled in on himself when Demobats screeched in the distance or lightning painted the sky red, but Steve was half-naked, covered in blood and goo and he didn’t think Eddie would appreciate any of that. 

He wanted to hug Eddie at Max’s house- trap his hands between their chests so he would stop running his fingers through his hair, scrubbing his hands down his face, aggressively wringing his fingers together so hard his knuckles cracked, but Eddie might’ve punched him for doing it in front of everyone when he’s supposed to be cool and metal.

He doesn’t look cool or metal right now. He looks on the verge of tears and Steve is shaking with how badly he wants to walk over there and hug him, tell him that everything will be okay but Steve has a job to do. 

They all do. 

Eddie seems to realize it at the same time. After one last shaky breath, he goes back to his shield, leaving Steve with no choice but to turn back to Robin and focus on his own task. 

***

It’s not until they’re getting ready to leave that Steve does another headcount. 

Max and Erica are inside the Winnebago, loading it up with weapons and supplies.

Nancy and Robin are going over the stages of their plan to make sure they thought of everything.

Sinclair and Henderson are trying the walkies, checking the batteries and making sure they’re on the right channel.

Eddie is-

Steve frowns, his eyes roaming the field one, two, three times but he still doesn’t see Eddie anywhere. 

Panic starts bubbling up inside him at the thought of anything happening to Eddie. 

Don’t go there, Steve tells himself. Maybe Eddie needed to take a piss and went to find a tree somewhere. Maybe he just needed a minute away from everyone.

Or maybe Vecna got to him. Maybe it’s already too late and Eddie is the fourth victim and all they did was for nothing.

He tries to remain calm as he looks for Eddie but his heart is beating frantically. He checks inside the RV first and when he realizes he isn’t there, he goes around it, planning to go into the woods next if he doesn’t find him there either. 

But he does- he finds him crouching on the ground with his back against the RV, his face buried in his hands, framed by a curtain of hair.

“Eddie?” Steve asks warily, still unsure if Eddie might be trapped by Vecna.

But then Eddie jumps, whipping his head up and staring at Steve with wide, scared eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington!” 

He holds his hands up in front of him. “Shit, sorry, I thought-”

“That Vecna got me?” Eddie scoffs. He taps his knuckles against his temple. “Nope, just me up here.” His hands fall to the space between his legs. They’re shaking. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, shoving his own hands in his pockets when he feels the urge to grab Eddie’s and hold them until they’re not shaking anymore. 

Eddie breathes out a humorless laugh. “Dude, I’m so fucking far from okay.”

Steve grimaces, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Right, of course, that was stupid.” 

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Eddie shakes his head. “No, not stupid, sorry. I’m just on edge, man. This whole monster fighting thing.” He waves his hand vaguely. “It ain’t for me.”

“I thought that’s what you did in that dorky game of yours,” Steve says, hoping to distract Eddie with a joke. 

Eddie snorts. “It’s really fucking different when you can actually, you know- die.”

“You’re not gonna die, Munson,” Steve says with a frown.

Eddie shakes his head repeatedly. “Oh, I have a baaad feeling, Stevie, a feeling that I ain’t gonna make it out-”

“Fuck that, man,” Steve hisses. The thought of something happening to Eddie or any of his friends making anger bubble up inside him. “You can’t think like that. We got this, okay?”

Eddie sighs, lifting his gaze to meet Steve’s eyes. “How do you do it, man?”

“Do what?”

“How are you so,” he gestures at Steve, “calm about this shit.”

“It’s not my first time,” Steve shrugs. “My first time I was scared shitless, but I made it out okay and you will too,” he says as confidently as he can, but Eddie doesn’t seem convinced. He’s no longer looking at Steve but down at his hands as he nervously wrings his fingers together, his leg bouncing rapidly. His hair falls like a curtain around his face but Steve can still see the tears gathering in his eyes. 

Eddie looks like he’s falling apart at the seams, and once again Steve wants to hug him. Only this time they’re alone, they’re not covered in blood or Upside Down goo and they’ve come a long way from Eddie trying to slash his neck open with a bottle so Steve thinks fuck it and takes a step forward. 

“Come here.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He frowns. “What?”

“Get up,” Steve says. Still frowning, Eddie pushes himself to his feet. “Now come here.”

“Where?”

“Here.” Steve holds his arms open and Eddie’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs. “I’m giving you a hug.”

“You’re- what?”

Steve shuffles his feet. He feels stupid, standing there with his arms open while Eddie stares at him like he grew a second head. The back of his neck feels like it’s burning, the heat slowly spreading to his face. “You- you just look like you could use a hug.”

Eddie breathes out a startled laugh. “Holy shit, this is by far the strangest thing to have happened to me ever, and considering the days I just had, that’s saying something.”

“Munson,” Steve mutters but Eddie ignores him. 

“Steve Harrington wants to give me a hug?” Eddie gasps, clutching his chest. 

Steve huffs. “Yeah, and it’s a limited-time offer so are you gonna come here or are you gonna be a dick about it?”

“Well, if His Majesty insists,” Eddie jokes with a hand flourish but his tone lacks any lightheartedness. He’s nervous, fidgety. Despite his words, he hesitates, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. 

So Steve takes matters into his own hands. Literally. He closes the distance between them with two long strides, grabs Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in.

Eddie goes stiff, and for a moment, Steve worries that he’ll pull back but then he lets out a soft noise and melts into Steve, shaky hands coming up to grab his waist. 

“You’re going to live, Eddie,” Steve whispers, one of his hands moving to cup the back of Eddie’s neck. He shudders in his arms. “We’re going to win and we’re all going to live, okay?”

Eddie tucks his face into his neck. It’s Steve who shudders this time. “If you say so, Stevie.”

Steve makes a stubborn noise. “I do,” he says, squeezing Eddie a little tighter. He ignores the whine Eddie lets out or how it makes something hot burn in his belly. He focuses on Eddie’s arms wrapping around his waist instead- like he fears Steve might pull away. 

He doesn’t.

“You just have to trust me, okay?” Steve says, absently playing with the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck, feeling him go limp in his arms. Pride surges through Steve at being right. Eddie clearly needed a hug. 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, sounding a little more confident. 

Neither of them let go. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other, Steve’s fingers still moving in Eddie’s hair. 

“Steve?” Eddie says, breaking the silence after a few minutes. 

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what? You’re a good hugger, dude, I’m enjoying myself,” Steve teases but the truth is that he means it. He likes hugging Eddie, he wishes he didn’t wait this long to do it or that he didn’t need to let go of him soon, before their friends come looking for them. He knows what Robin will say if she finds them like this- she has yet to shut up about Eddie calling Steve big boy and how Steve momentarily forgot how to function because of it.

He forgets how to function now when Eddie giggles, his breath tickling Steve’s neck. “You keep surprising me, Harrington.”

“Get used to it, Munson,” he says as he finally, regrettably, pulls back. He keeps his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “’Cause you’re stuck with me, man.”

Eddie blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, squeezing his shoulders. He gets an idea. “After we’re done, I’m taking you out for a drink. I think we’ll both need one.”

A smile plays at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. He seems infinitely more relaxed now than he did when Steve found him. “What- like a date?” He asks, clearly trying to make a joke even if his eyes dart a little nervously over Steve’s face.

Already missing the way Eddie’s arms felt around his waist or how his fingers felt in Eddie’s hair, Steve stops himself from brushing it off as a joke. He can’t, not when the idea of going on a date with Eddie makes his stomach fill with butterflies. With a smirk, he shrugs. “Guess you’re just gonna have to live long enough to find out?”

A nearly hysterical laugh bursts out of Eddie but his eyes sparkle like the idea of going out on a date with Steve doesn’t make him want to run off into the woods. “Guess so, big boy,” he says, making Steve’s cheeks heat up. “Let’s go make that Vecna fucker pay then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with a big grin. “Let’s kill that son of a bitch.”

And with that, they head back to their friends. Eddie isn’t okay, he probably won’t be until this is over but now there’s a spring in his step and his hands aren’t shaking anymore.

And when his eyes meet Steve’s on the rearview mirror as he drives them to the Creel house, Eddie gives him a big dimpled smile- the first one to reach his eyes since they found him in that boat house. 

Steve is happy to have hugged him. He can’t wait to do it again- because he needs it, because they made it or just because this time. And then hopefully many times after that. 

[thesilmarillionblog]

A Sweet Distraction

Volume 2

➳ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: When you're in a club, you have to make sure Soldier Boy stays out of trouble and doesn't draw attention of other people while Butcher and the boys look for Payback members. Whatever it takes, you have to keep him busy and distracted.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), Language, some fluff

Word Count: 3025

A/N: English is not my first language.

Ben's lips curled as your tongues connected, and you felt your heart speed up as you gave him a gentle kiss, not knowing if it would calm his rage. You were shocked when, in spite of his rough nature, he gave you an affectionate kiss in return, as if he didn't want to frighten you away.

When his kisses got deeper and his tongue took over your mouth, leaving you gasping, you drew away. Seeing that his chest had gotten back to normal, you relaxed and exhaled deeply.

He winked at you and said, “You did a good job here, sweetheart, huh? You certainly know how to surprise me.”

You found yourself laughing uncontrollably as you observed his flirtatious behavior toward you. 

Your eyes wandered around the club as you muttered, “I just hoped surprising you would work,” blushing beneath his focused stare. Everyone continued dancing madly to the loud music, seemingly unaware that Soldier Boy was going to kill them all if you didn't stop him.

He led you to a quieter area of the club and said, “Well, it definitely worked,” when you bought him another drink. He was not getting drunken in any way.

Because he was a man with PTSD and was unpredictable, you were still terrified of him and wanted the night over as quickly as possible. However, you felt safer and more at ease with him because you didn't feel pressured to kiss him against your will. He was becoming even nicer to you. 

“So, why are you working for Butcher?” he inquired, setting his empty glass down on the closest table. 

You mumbled, “I'm not working for him,” as your nails gently traveled across the wall behind you. “His wife, who I was really close to, is hurt by Homelander really badly. She was the most kind human being I've ever encountered. So actually, I work with him let’s say.” 

He nodded to you despite the fact that the fact that he didn't clearly understand the situation or the dynamics amongst you all. 

“Butcher told me you're going to kill Homelander,” you muttered, as if you could be heard by someone else. “Are you truly capable of that? Killing him?” 

Soldier Boy laughed at your questioning and your clumsy attempt to find out if he was truly passionate about killing Homelander. “Of course I can, and I will,” he declared with pride. “He's just a foolish son of a bitch with a weird cape, and he's a cheap fucking knockoff. Just another worthless item to be used by his masters.”

You chuckled at his word choice and self-confidence, which fit him absolutely well. 

You said, "Honestly, I was very scared of you; well, maybe I still am, but I'm starting to think you're not that bad," feeling a little brave after his kind behavior toward you.

“I'm a tough bad supe,” he was whispering to you, raising your chin with two fingers and gently massaging your jawline with his fingertips. You shuddered, knowing that he might easily hurt you if he briefly loosened control. “But you know, just for you, I can show you how much I can be a gentleman.”

Even though you were still terrified of him and his abilities, your face flushed at his daring behavior right away. However, you were too weak to control your excitement. Being a supe or whatever was something you had never considered, so you muttered, “To be honest, I'm not that interested in getting intimate with a supe.”

As he drew nearer to you and prepared to press you to reconsider, he questioned, “Why not?”

Just a little while ago, Soldier Boy considered finding a simple supe woman to give his seed to and have a quick, hard fuck with, but now that he thought about it, he found you to be more interesting than those simple supe women who were boring and way too confident for his tastes—or perhaps he just liked your shyness at that particular moment. 

You said, your face flushed, “I heard there are supes who hurt people when they got close,” allowing him to touch your face with his massive hands. 

“There are no other men like me,” he remarked, with a grin brushing your lips with his thumb. 

You whispered, “No doubt. However, it's risky, don't you think? Considering the imbalance in power and everything.” 

“Believe me,” he added, continuing to playfully stroke your lips with firm hands. “I've fucked a lot of regular women just like you before; I can guarantee that none of them experienced any injury. People find themselves drawn to fucking supes for a reason.”

Your pulse raced with excitement and a hint of fright as you allowed him to touch you, unsure of whether or not to believe him. It felt like just the two of you, in between the din and the background noise. Soldier Boy was undeniably attractive, and his extraordinary strength only served to heighten the thrill you felt. 

“You want to distract me, right?” He heard your rapid heartbeat and sensed that you were putting your legs together, so he smiled and muttered something in your ear. “If you allow me to get into your tiny, aching pussy, we can both get pleasantly distracted. I would be happy to provide for your every need. Actually, I'm giving you a chance, so count yourself fortunate.” 

Telling him you didn't want to be touched would be a big lie. So, as he continued gently brushing your cheek with one of his powerful hands, you placed yours on his hand and gave him a forceful but delicate kiss to find out if he was being truthful about being a gentleman or not. 

Unexpectedly, he gave you the same tender kiss in return, and you could feel a little smile creep across his lips. After a while, his gentle kisses became more intense as he pulled you toward his powerful chest with his large hands behind your neck. Under his powerful hands, you felt secure. After a while, his powerful and seductive kisses left your lips red and ruined, and you pulled away to catch your breath.

He asked in a harsh voice against your lips, “So, what do you say?” as he continued to give you short kisses that increased your desire for him.

You gave it a little consideration, letting your hunger and physical desires gradually take the place of your fear of him, and then you nodded to him, “Uhm, yes.”

Soldier Boy's lips met yours with a smile as his hands hovered over your hips, slowly squeezing you until you left speechless and made to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet.

With a harsh voice, he asked, “Yes for what?” knowing that tonight, when he

finally got in your panties, you would make his dick warm with your tightness. He could feel his large cock getting harder by each second.

As he attempted to get you to talk when you were consumed with his exquisite little touches, Soldier Boy chuckled at your shyness. 

You said, “Yes for,” stumbling for words. “A small distraction, let's say?” 

Soldier Boy chuckled in a low voice at your description of the issue. He almost said something filthy about your naive demeanor, but he chose to refrain from putting you through more discomfort than was necessary. 

While guiding you to the second floor's darker corners and the rooms there, he teased, “Fine, baby, it doesn't sound that miserable anymore for you, huh?”

Then, just as a man was ready to crush you with his clumsy walk, Soldier Boy pushed the somewhat drunk man to the other side of the wall, and you found yourself inside a small, dark room that smelled strongly of drugs and alcohol. He stated, “It's all safe in here,” as you hurriedly scanned the room before he wildly began kissing you. 

He was taken aback when you kissed him tenderly on the lips, and you hoped he would be as kind as possible. You stroked his long beard and smiled at him. 

His tongue in your lips made you shiver and as he gave you a passionate kiss, your fingers danced over his long beard. He drew back and shoved you against the wall, making you gasp. He lifted your dress confidently and met your eyes with his darkened ones to check whether you were still afraid of him.

He gently assured you, “I won't hurt you,” right before his big fingers began to stroke your clit through your underwear. “Just relax.”

As he felt himself becoming more and more difficult for him to control, but he made his choice to make you feel comfortable and wet by giving you pleasure you needed. Soldier Boy gently inserted one of his fingers inside of yours, causing you to sigh a little louder this time after rubbing your clit some more and eliciting small noises from your mouth.

He answered, “You can take it,” and then carefully inserted his entire meaty finger inside of yours. “You're so good for me.”

You pushed yourself to take his entire finger in between his compliments and begged him to lift you up so you could be in a more comfortable position. Thankfully, he got the message right away and effortlessly raised you up with one hand. He then proceeded to gently touch you while whispering compliments against your lips.

You pressed your lips to his as he began to touch you more roughly, kissing him wildly as your fingertips played with his long and thick beard.

When Soldier Boy felt that you were close and that you were moist all over his hand, he added another finger. He bit your bottom lip gently, then whispered, “Cum on my fingers, sweetheart,” as he increased his strokes and found your most sensitive area with skill.

As you neared your climax, your legs trembled and you began to clench around his thick fingers between his praise while you moaned loudly against his mouth. When he took back his fingers, which were coated with your slick, you whimpered in protest. You were rather touch-starved, and you knew your body needed more.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth before you could even respond, growling, “Taste yourself,” as you held him tightly since your legs felt like a jelly. “Taste your sweetness.”

Your body became consumed with a desire to please him, so you hesitantly opened your mouth to let him to use it whatever he pleased. When he saw that you were ready to follow his instructions, he smiled mischievously and gave you the finger, saying, “Suck it, baby.”

When he put his hardness between your legs and ordered you to suck his finger so you could taste your own wetness, your heart began to race. As he carefully slid his fingers back and forth in your mouth, your tongue curled around his finger, giving you the sensation of a salty slick, and he pretended that you were sucking his cock instead. 

His lips twisted in enjoyment as he observed your submissive demeanor, and he growled, “You're a little dirty cocksucker, aren't you? However, I'll give you another chance to suck me off with your adorable little mouth later.”

With a swift motion, he removed his finger from your mouth and guided you both to the bed behind you. When Soldier Boy removed his hardness from his pants while holding your neck and pulling up your dress. The moment you felt the tip of his cock at your wet entrance, you shivered with anxiety, your cheek facing the sheets as you waited nervously for him to take you. You moved under Soldier Boy and forced him to release his grip on your hip, causing him stare at you perplexed before he inserted his cock into your pussy.

“What now?” he questioned while you were looking at his enormous dick in fear as he gave himself quick, forceful strokes.

“I’d like to do it in that position,” you murmered shyly, trying not to look at his enormous cock.

Soldier Boy noticed your anxious expression and your naive tone as you expressed wanting to be fucked in a missionary position. Without even realizing it, his heart began to soften, and he leaned over you on the bed, forcing you to lock your legs behind him as he began to kiss you again to help you relax. 

“Do you want to watch me fucking you?” He removed your tiny panties from your pussy and raised your dress so he could see your nude lower body. “Watching my cock slide inside your pussy,” he questioned. 

“Yes,” you moaned as you felt his thick cock on your stomach and mumbled against his mouth. 

After pulling the hanger off your dress and exposing your tits to his view, Soldier Boy spit on his own fingers and began to caress your sensitive clit some more. When he quickly sucked on both of your hard nipples, you let out a deep moan. Then, with a daring gaze into your eyes, he spat on his own fingers more and said, “Your adorable little hairy pussy looks so delicious. I'm fucking tired of shaved little bitches. You're really appealing to me, sweetie. A real woman.”

His fingers and his compliments made you feel close as his hand continued to play with your clit. You attempted to control your moans but were unsuccessful when he abruptly inserted two fingers back into you, forcing you to clench around his fingers once again.

He said, “I can make you come as much as you want, sweetheart,” as you whimpered loudly and opened your legs wider. Your eyes welled up with tears as you realized how empty you felt and how much you needed him to fill you.

“Beg me to fuck you.”

You quietly said, “Please,” running your fingers through his long beard.

“That's not how you beg,” he muttered aggressively.

You clamped your legs around his hips and moaned, “Fuck me, please,” as you attempted to get him to move on you.

As you continued pleading with him to get inside you, your eyes clouded with desire to be fucked by him, Soldier Boy grinned satisfiedly against your lips. He held his firm cock in his hand and moved it back and forth against your clit, forcing you to continue begging.

You both groaned when he finally pressed it against your entrance, and he moved very carefully to avoid hurting you with his strength. But you were so wet that he didn't even have to push, and he effortlessly glided inside you, which made him smile proudly. 

He encouraged you, saying, “You're taking me so good,” and attempted, very carefully, to insert his entire shaft inside your pussy. “Just a little bit more.” 

When he gave you a firm hip squeeze and thrust his entire hardness inside of you, you felt a little uncomfortable at first, but you quickly grew accustomed to the length of his dick and forced yourself to suppress your groan of discomfort.

He waited inside of you, and you murmured softly, “Can you be gentle?”

“You want to be fucked slowly?”

You nodded to him, and he surprised you by kissing your forehead tenderly and smiling a little. He said, “I'll fuck you as you like it tonight.”

You both gasped with ecstasy as he began to slowly move his cock inside of you. He looked into your eyes, his muscular hands holding you in place as he slowly smashed his dick within your pussy.

With every stroke, he snarled and praised you, saying, “You're so fucking tight and nice. I should have fucked you sooner.”

He was fucking you slowly but with powerful strokes that made you sigh with pleasure. He was also extremely mindful of every facial expression you made. When Soldier Boy sensed your hips frantically striving to match his thrusts, he began to move a little quicker and harder. He was aware that your body was capable of more. You felt yourself moving closer to him again as you groaned louder and gripped his face as he began to fuck you harder. 

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he commanded, wrapping his hands around your neck and shifting slightly on top of you. It got harder to keep himself from spilling inside of you as he fucked you carefully, seeing as your tits bounced with each stroke. 

Your legs trembled with incredible pleasure as soon as he gave you the order to cum and hit you with his powerful thrusts, dominating your body, and you screamed in intense pleasure. You had no idea that you needed to be fucked in that particular way. You forced him to fully press against your walls by raising your hips and clenching around his big cock. You were shaking under Soldier Boy wildly as he continued to fuck you in between orgasms. 

With a low growl, he shoved his entire cock within your pussy and grabbed your tits with one hand while spilling his thick, white ropes inside.

“Fuck,” he growled as you clenched around him one more time and he kept spilling inside you for minutes, filling your insides with his sperm.

As he filled up inside of you, you both snapped to reality, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

He took his softened cock from your insides, and he chuckled when you smiled against his lips and while you were trying to catch your breath in bliss.

When he palmed your pussy and got back his sperm to your insides, which were leaking out of your thigh, you both moaned. 

“See,” he teased you. “No damage was done. I gave you an excellent attention.”

You boldly put your hands to his flushed lips, closed your eyes, and gave him a quick, hard kiss. 

“You're indeed a sweet little distraction to me.”

THE END.

A/N: Well, that was all. It was just a two chapters long fic, but you can check my Masterlist for long Soldier Boy / Reader fics.

Let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are very appreciated and important to me. ♡

Taglist: @n-o-p-e-never @mostlymarvelgirl @libby99hb @arrowenchantress @aleemendoza2425-blog @anundyingfidelity

[twst-drabbles]

Floyd 13

Summary: You play around with Floyd's little fat belly after dumping a bag of magically enchanted shrimp in the tank.

(I threw out my neck so badly I had to get a separate keyboard to use while elevating my laptop. I’m getting better but oh boy my neck muscles are so delicate nowadays. Horrible. Anyways, have a small Floyd with a fat belly.)

“Did you get a bite to eat?”

Floyd, all laid out on your towel-covered lap, gave a large, lazy stretch of his limbs and tails. He trilled, but it blended into a yawn. You tapped at his belly, watching as his food-filled stomach lightly jiggled with just that gentle force.

“Did you eat a lot?”

Floyd’s arms shot up in the air as he gave a hard squeak. A celebratory ‘Yes!’ Another tap to his stomach made him burp. He covered his mouth, a little wide eyed at the noise, glanced at you to gauge if he was in trouble or not, then laughed loudly when you smiled.

You found a bag of shrimp at the market and, upon looking at the nice price, decided to spoil the little seafolk. At first, you were just going to dump them into the tank and watch them go on an eating feast, but then you remembered the amount of favors Crowley owes you. So, you cashed in on one of them had him enchant these shrimp to move and swim as soon as they touch the salted water of your tank.

Safe to say it was a good decision. All the various shrimp swimming and dodging their movements got them in hunting mode. Though, out of everyone, Floyd was the one that ate the most. So much so that when you went back into the room after leaving them alone, you found him laying in the middle of the sand, belly as huge as can be with the happiest smile on his face.

And not a single headless shrimp in sight. It seems as though all of the seafolk have well and truly eaten everything in sight. Not a single piece wasted. And it seems you didn’t have to take the time to clean the tank, which is always a good thing.

Azul and Jade had hidden themselves away, so all you had to keep company was Floyd. And here he is, on your lap because you don’t really have anything else to do. And since you didn’t want to sit on the floor–and potentially have Azul and Jade be jealous–you took him downstairs. Everyone else will have their time, but for now, it’s Floyd’s time.

Floyd joined in on the belly smacking, patting away at it like a drum.

“You sure you didn’t eat too much? You didn’t steal food out of your tankmates’ hands again, did you?”

You poked Floyd’s face and he predictably frowned. His tiny arms wrapped around your finger, claws lightly scraping against your skin, and began to gnaw on it. Playfully, as his teeth didn’t draw blood this time around.

You easily broke his hold. You dangled your hand just out of his reach, and laughed when he tried to stretch his body beyond his limits to grab at you again. His tail flapped in effort, but eventually he gave up and flopped against the curve of your thigh. He was tired, sleepy and very full of food.

You tapped his stomach again and Floyd squeaked in annoyance, but did nothing more. It wasn’t long before your taps lulled him to sleep.

Alright, in just a few more minutes, you’ll put him back in the tank.

[babygorewhore]

Dirty girl

Rafe Cameron is your favorite porn star and you’re determined to make your fantasies come true. Even if that means sneaking into one of his parties.

Thank you to @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with this one!!! And the divider! Also idk what happened to me but the horny demon decided to show up and possess me. So enjoy this filth 😌

Warnings! Male and female masturbation! One mention of breeding kink! Daddy kink! Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected sex! Not proofread

Your crush on Rafe Cameron led you to do crazy things. Follow him around school, graduation and now you look at his posts like a puppy following their master on his only fans every single time he streamed. It wasn’t a secret that he was a porn star, everyone knew but it wasn’t openly discussed. When you saw him there weeks ago, your panties got damp from how hot he looked jerking himself off while he wore that SnapBack of his. His creamy fluid coating his large hand, fingers slick as he continued pumping.

“That’s my fucking girl,” He moaned and rolled his hips to the pace of his strokes. Your own fingers were buried inside your cunt, curling them upward as you wished they were his while your vibrator was glued to your clit mercilessly.

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so good at this,” And then…

His said your name.

You immediately stopped for a second. Gasping for air but then he said another girls name. It wasn’t directed at you, another girl with the same name who requested the praise. You laid back down from leaning on your elbows, returning to your motions as your digits found their way inside your pussy, vibrations pressing tightly against your swollen center.

You bucked your hips as Rafe started grinding on his bed, his thighs caging the pillow while his dick slapped against the material. “Fuck, you feel so fucking tight. Baby, let me cum in you. Wanna fuck a baby in you.”

You whimpered at his dirty words as you continued fingering yourself, drawing close to the edge when Rafe let out a throaty moan and that made your orgasm hit you like a crashing wave and you threw your head back, covering your mouth with your other hand to stop yourself from waking up your roommate in the next room.

As the seconds went by, you pulled out your fingers and wiped them on your bare hip. Rafe was breathing heavily, just like you were and it made your hole tighten when you saw his naked chest heaving as he recovered from spilling on the sheets. You needed him so badly it hurt but more than that.

You wanted him to fuck you. You didn’t want anyone else. You wanted him and you were determined to get him.

Every weekend, Rafe threw a party at his house. Your friend Barry usually provided him coke for the entertainment and that could be your opportunity to get an invite. Which is what you were currently trying to convince him the next day.

“Come on. Let me give it to him.” You pleaded and he gave you a condescending look.

“For what? So you can fuck him? Nah. He’s the one who pays me. It’s my business.” You huffed and crossed your arms. Your sneakers were sticking to the floor of his house.

“Barry. Come on. I’ll owe you if you do this. I won’t bother you for a whole week.” You offered and he snorted, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Yeah, right. Make it a month. No favors. No ‘borrowing’ my shit without giving it back. And you buy your own stuff. A whole ass month.” He replied and you stuck out your hand.

“Deal.”

And that’s when you snuck into the party, booming music, laughter, fucking disguised your lack of invitation as you tried to find your target. You were surprised he wasn’t at the center since he loved attention but instead, when you went up the stairs, he was sitting down counting cash. You swallowed your nerves away before approaching him. You wondered if the money was cashed out from his Only fans. Which in turn made you clench at the memory.

You walked over, your heels clacking against the wood floor and Rafe’s head snapped up. But instead of criticizing you as a stranger, he stood up with a smirk.

“Hey, haven’t seen you before, baby.”

You swallow your nervousness and give him a little smile. “I’m here to give you the goods. Barry wasn’t able to come.”

Rafe furrows his brows slightly. “Doesn’t sound like him. Maybe you should tell me why you’re here, baby girl.” He says and wraps his hand on your hip, tugging you close until you’re pressed against him.

You shrugged but put your hands on his chest, rising up a little so you can press your lips to his ear. “Maybe I want you to fuck me like you do in your little videos, baby.”

Rafe quirks his eyebrow before gesturing with his head to the right. “Hmm, maybe I can give it to you. But first you have to ask me nicely, baby. Use good manners.” He teases.

“Please fuck me, Rafey. I want it so bad. I want you to stuff me with your cum.” You press your hands together in contrition. “I promise I’ll be good and take it.” You pout slightly.

Rafe gently takes your arm and starts walking to the right, taking you down a dimly lit hallway and passing people who are grinding against each other. He finds the last door, opening the wooden entrance and you see a modern style bedroom. With sleek furniture and a wide bed to accommodate his large frame.

He turned and smashed his lips to yours, sucking your lower lip and sliding his hands to your ass. He squeezed and pulled you against him, grinding against you, you felt his hard cock and you reached down, palming him and he groaned. “Did you just come here to be a cum slut?” He asked and you nodded as you slipped your tongue in his mouth.

“Mhm, just wanna fuck you daddy. Maybe make our own video.” You smirked against his mouth and he chuckled darkly, pulling away.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” Rafe growled and pulled out his phone, turning on the record button. “You won’t be able to touch yourself without thinking of it right now. With my cock inside you. Without my tongue and fingers inside that pretty little pussy.”

He reached forward and grabbed your hair, yanking you to the bed on your back. He wasted no time, pulling off your panties and lifting your short skirt. Rafe moaned at the sight of your sticky cunt. “Mmm, so wet for me, aren’t you baby girl?” He said before sinking to his knees.

He shoved his face against your pussy, licking you with a flattened tongue on your clit and you gripped his hair. Rafe bobbed his head up and down before pushing his tongue inside you, fucking you with it as he made you whimper and grip harder.

“Fuck, daddy, it feels so good.” You whined as he sped up, bobbing his head up and down as the flash of the camera was on in his free hand, his other holding you down by your left hip.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He grunted, lapping his tongue and you breathed harder, feeling your stomach coil.

“Yours daddy!” You cried out and he smirked against it.

“Fucking right. One more time?”

“My pussy is yours, Rafe.” You said against and he smacked your ass before lifting up, crawling on top of you and unbuckling his past. His chin dripping with your slick as he shoved his boxers down his thighs and off, throwing them to the side.

Your eyes widened at his size, his red tip leaking with precum as rubbed it against your clit before sinking inside you, “Fuckkk.” He moaned and leaned down, his face in the crook of your neck. “Such a tight little cunt. Sucking me in like a fucking slut.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist and his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly while he kissed your skin, sucking in to leave a mark. “Everyone will know I fucked you. No one will touch you. You. Are. Mine.” He said as he thrust, deep in you hitting the good spots. You huffed out pornographic noises and humped him animalistically.

He continued his pace for minutes before speeding up as he saw your eyes roll back as your belly tightened and you spilled all over his dick, giving him more slick as he pounded into you and he slammed his lips to yours, teeth and tongue and you tasted yourself.

He came in you, dripping and ropes of cum leaked onto the bed and he moaned loudly. You matched his volume as you clawed at his back.

He stayed there for seconds before pulling out and scooping you in his arms, laying down. “I’ll clean you up in a minute…fucking hell baby girl.” He chuckled and you nuzzled against his chest.

“I think you did ruin me now.” You whispered with a sly grin.

“Give me fucking five minutes. And I’m gonna turn that camera off. You’re really going to cream over me.”

Tagging! @rafescurtainbangz @drewstarkeyslut @rafesthroatbaby @slvt4jamesmarch @marchsfreakshow @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @oceandriveab @voyeurmunson @impmunson @redhead1180

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Spooky season needs spooky stuff.. >:3

So can I request the digital circus cast (minus Caine)meeting a Child Spirit Y/n headcanons,who like Kinda possesed/went inside the game to find they’re killer for some reason? They are eerily quiet and like to stare but if talked to very sweet but quick to snap in distrust because..well trust is what got them killed in the first place? They’re a bit bloody..and a eyeball sometimes hangs out?? Like vhs horror stuff

Sorry I’m being so descriptive,I hope you are a nice day!

OOOoo yes time for more spooks!

Also I am having a nice night, thanks! (and I hope you are having a nice day/night too!)

......

Pomni

To make a long story short, you got murdered while wearing the headset, and that tethered your spirit to TADC.

As expected, you lost memories of who you were--except for the knowledge that someone killed you because you trusted them too much, and you believed the answers were inside this very game.

Your character ends up looking like a child's ghost costume: a white bedsheet stained in blood and one of your eyeballs occasionally wanting to pop from its socket.

Caine (who was very much bewildered at your arrival) declares that you're part of an "exclusive Halloween update" and changes up the tent and grounds to have more spooky flair.

But Pomni clearly wants no part of it, and she can tell you don't either.

You're clearly a kid who is (somehow) handling the situation of being stuck in this game better than her, yet when she tries asking you about it....all you do is stare back.

She swears she can hear static noises and whispers she can't decipher--all in all getting a...very creepy vibe from you.

Initially she decides to keep her distance, afraid you were secretly some virus or Abstraction underneath that sheet.

But that changes when you're walking by the rooms one night, and you pass by Pomni's door, hearing her quietly crying.

Although you weren't inclined to get close to anybody here, you were concerned. And since you weren't actually coded into the game, you didn't have to follow any of its rules--and that allowed you to enter her room without a key.

At first you scared the shit out of her, but after realizing it's you, she lets you sit beside her, eventually venting about how badly she missed her real home.

"Everyone keeps telling me "oh this place is so much better" or "get used to it"...but what if I don't wanna do that? I don't care if my old life was bad...I-I can't take anymore of this.." Her sobs grow louder. "I wanna wake up in my own bed knowing my real name!!"

"...I miss home, too," is all you say in response. Yet it's more than enough to calm her down.

For once, you're not trying to brush her off or force her to "cheer up" and accept her reality. You made her feel heard.

"Yeah..me, too....sh-should I thank you for agreeing..?" She sniffles, seeing your subtle nod, before you leave her be, not wanting to get too attached.

Ironically, she was able to sleep a little easier after talking to you.

Jax

From the get-go, he's gonna be real nosy and curious.

Since not even Caine himself expected your arrival and found out that you don't follow the "rules" like everyone else...Jax is gonna try his damnedest to understand you and see what makes you tick.

But he's gonna be disappointed quickly since you don't respond much to him (or anybody in general).

"So...ya like Halloween?"

"........"

"....thought so. Good talk, new kid."

You definitely act like a legit ghost--doing nothing but stare, move things around, and pop up unexpectedly.

Eventually, his curiosity leads to him visiting your room (which has no key), and he discovers many drawings on the walls.

Most depicting a dead person wearing a headset.

What he found most disturbing was a journal that contained his and the others' names..

From what he's gathering...you're suspecting one of them of murdering your real world-self.

But he doesn't get much time to ponder this as you show up, angry at him for intruding.

You make yourself look even bloodier and scarier, with both of your eyeballs hanging from their sockets and staring at him.

"Get out."

Those two simple words put the fear of god in him.

Jax runs out faster than a jackrabbit, colliding with Gangle in the process. Her comedy mask falls off again, but he catches it and looks at her.

"J-Jax..?" She realizes his fur is standing up on all ends, and he looks terrified....even more than he did after realizing the circus was his forever home.

But he just shoves the mask back into her hands and leaves without saying a word.

He never speaks of what he found in your room that day.

Kinger

He thought his eyes were weird...until you came along and periodically had to put your own eyeball back into its socket.

"It's good to know I'm not alone!" He nervously chuckles, only to be met with your eerie silence.

Sometime later, he suggests showing you his insect collection, and it does pique your interest.

You did love all things "creepy" and "crawly".

Yet you're adamant about going to his pillow fortress after he invites you.

It reminds you of the ones you used to build all the time, up until...

Fortunately, Kinger recognizes your reluctance and just brings one of his bug boxes to you so you can look at it.

He could infodump about the various critters for hours, with nothing but nods and quiet "mhms" from you, and he's happy.

In general, he doesn't mind your quiet personality.

Although you still sometimes jumpscare him unintentionally like Gangle often does.

Tbh he's a good father figure and recognizes that you're just a kid who got trapped in this game unfairly.

Even so, you try to keep your distance and looks at him suspiciously if he starts acting too nice.

He was quiet aloof, and you weren't sure how he would act on any given day.

Gangle

After accidentally spooking her (by simply existing in the same room as her), she breaks her comedy mask off.

But immediately she feels guilty for screaming and tries scrambling to fix it, hoping you weren't mad at her.

Yet all you do is stare, not looking angry or anything at all (it's hard for any of the performers to see your expression in general, aside from your hanging eye, but still).

Poor Gangle is just afraid you'd turn into a scarier version of yourself.

When she keeps cutting her ribbon fingers(?) on the ceramic pieces, you come over and clean it up for her, taking it away despite your own hands bleeding.

The implications that you were able to shed blood and nobody else were a little disturbing to her..but she's glad you're not offended by her screaming.

Although she wonders where you're going with her mask..

Later on, you knock on her door and present it fully fixed.

Except...it looks more Halloweenish with an evil smile painted on it, messily glued together.

'Oh god I hope this doesn't turn me evil or anything..' She thinks, putting on a smile as she takes it anyways.

Yet you remain where you are, staring and clearly waiting for her to try it on.

And so she does, and it turns her into a very chaotic Halloween lover, acting even more mischievous than Jax and allowing her to finally get her revenge for all his pranks.

In the end, you gain a decent friendship with her, subtly protecting her from Jax's bullying.

Ragatha

Seeing that you're so distant from the rest of the gang has her worried.

Some of them might consider your loose eyeball creepy, but she's not gonna judge you on that (besides, she's missing an eye altogether so she can't say much anyways).

Howeve,r she's the first to find out how strong your distrust of everyone is.

"[Y/n]? I don't think it's good to be isolating yourself like this. I know you hate being here and Caine's a weirdo..but...we're all in this together. You can trust us-"

"Don't." You warn, putting on a frightening display of anger that sends her tumbling to the ground, sending chills up her spine.

"Trust" became something you didn't take lightly, as the last time you put your trust in someone....you ended up dead, turning into a literal ghost in the machine (that was your gaming system).

Despite this, Ragatha doesn't run away.

Like Pomni, she understands that you're just a kid who's confused and lost.....and clearly had serious trust issues.

But she's determined to help you through that, even if you keep scaring everybody away.

She's got motherly instincts, and she hopes that in due time you'll learn to warm up to her.

Zooble

"A bedsheet worn as a costume? That's a classic."

She's seen weirder things during their time in the circus, so you don't faze her too much.

Only when you snap at Ragatha or somebody who was trying to be nice to you does she raise an eyebrow.

Honestly, they 100% understand that you just wanted to be alone sometimes, and she respects that.

It's suffocating trying to act all cheery and go along with every damn activity Caine tries to get everyone involved in (but lucky for you, he can't make you follow along).

Especially since she believes he made up that stupid "Halloween update" as lazy way to explain your sudden arrival.

The only time you do interact with Zooble is after she yanks Jax by his ears, and they hear this eerie-sounding giggle behind them.

When she turns around, you're just standing there motionless, staring at her.

Somehow, they just know you were smiling underneath that costume, which makes her smile, too.

"Maybe I should pull him out a hat next time, huh?" She jokes after letting him go, and you giggle once more as he hits the ground.

[cinnamonest]

I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Happy Holidays!

G/N. Soft fluff. (All my blorbos - Gun Park, Goo Kim, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jake Kim, Vin Jin, Samuel Seo)

Gun Park - Hat

For the man that could buy pretty much anything, you opted to go for homemade. A personal touch.

Issue is, your personal touch is pretty shitty and shoddy. Gun still accepts the hat with a straight face and heartfelt thanks even as you tell him he doesn't have to wear it.

Why wouldn't I, he thinks. You have spent your time and effort making this for him and he appreciates it. Even if it isn't quite his... taste.

.

.

"What is that on your head?" Goo exclaims, torn between bursting into laughter and abject horror at the crimson bobble hat Gun is sporting. Ends of his hair poking out, and the colour highlighting the red of his windswept cheeks and nose.

"Fuck off."

"I think it's cute," Crystal grins as Goo whirls around and screeches.

"Cute?! Gun Park? Have you lost your mind?"

"Like you can say anything with those ridiculous mittens."

"My mittens are not ridiculous!"

Ignoring Crystal and Goo devolving into slinging insults at each other, Kouji glances at Gun and chuckles, opens his mouth to tease-

And is intercepted by a look from Gun, and a warning. "Shut it if you want to live."

Kouji's mouth slams shut.

.

.

Goo -  Mittens

"Tasteless," Gun sneers, and Goo kicks his ass for it.

"Tasteless," Kouji sighs, and Goo throws his laptop out the window.

"Tasteless," Crystal laments, and Goo- well. Goo can't exactly do anything. That's his boss's daughter, and nepotism is kinda a thing.

So he snarls, nostrils flaring and calls her tasteless too.

.

.

"I. LOVE. THESE!" You screech, high and shrill when you yank the mittens out of the box.

Tasteless huh, Goo thinks smugly as you cover him in kisses, No surprise it's everyone else that has no taste.

Birds of a feather truly flock together where you and Goo are concerned. Birds of a feather will also be able to keep their hands warm with their couples mittens too.

A conjoined monstrous thing, that allows you two to keep holding hands through the bitter Seoul winter. Keeping your fingers intertwined and an objectively OTT display of PDA. That you had to be touching, can't even bear to keep your hands to yourself for a moment, that you would need such an accessory.

Goo thought it was perfect when he laid eyes on it, if the way you two are always attached at the hip is any indication.

You clearly think so too, when Goo unwraps his own gift-

-Delighted and cackling, pulling out the same duplicate mittens.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda - Card

"Y/N!" Ryuhei calls you from down the hallway, waving enthusiastically before striding over.

"Here," he grins, handing over a card, "Happy Holidays. Hope you like it!"

.

.

The card sits on your desk. It's somewhere between cringe and cheesy, and utterly charming.

On the front is a (badly) hand drawn picture of you and Ryuhei, signed with his signature in the corner. Inside, a couple lines of explicit filth accompanied with sickeningly sweet declarations and too many hearts and kisses to count.

You blame it on the festive period. That's the reason you're feeling so soppy and sentimental, why every time you look at the crappy drawing you can't help but smile.

.

.

Ryuhei blinks, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, "You kept it?"

"Yeah," you peer at the card in your periphery, "I like it."

"You like it? Really?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

You hear Ryuhei mumbling something about how someone (no prizes for guessing who) would always just dump them in the trash without opening.

"...And they weren't even lewd," he sighs, then perks up, any gloominess dissipating and eyes practically sparkling, "But that's all in the past."

Absolutely delighted, Ryuhei leans over your desk, practically lying across it, and punctuates each word with a kiss, "You!” MWAH “Like!” MWAH “It!” MWAH

"Yeah," you smile fondly at your idiot, cupping his face, "I like you too."

.

.

Jake Kim - Gifts

Jake shrugs off his jacket and loosens his tie. It's been a long day. Actually, it's just been a long goddamn year.

He runs his fingers through his hair, ready to jump in the shower and straight to bed when-

Gift bags and presents cover his coffee table and a 'DO NOT OPEN! IT'S NOT FOR YOU!' sign catches his eye.

Huh. That is undoubtedly your scrawl, but if they're not gifts for him then...? He fires off a quick text.

Jake: hey, did you leave some presents at mine?

Y/N: yeah!

Y/N: i did some shopping and grabbed some stuff for your big deal boys

Y/N: and lua ofc

Jake, jaw dropping open at your thoughtfulness: really?

Y/N: yep. sinu and yeonhui too btw.

Jake: are you serious??

Y/N: yeah.. is that not ok?

He’s rendered speechless. And that you might even think that you have overstepped or any such nonsense is ridiculous.

Jake: wow

Jake: it’s more than ok

Jake: you didn’t have to

Jake: i appreciate it.thank you

Y/N: 😁 its just some small bits and pieces. i didn't think you would have time

Y/N: i left some food for you in the fridge too 🥰

His breath hitches and stomach grumbles, your message reminding his body he hasn't had anything since this morning.

Jake starts to type-

I can't believe-

You're the best-

I'm so lucky-

You're too good to-

I don't know what I would do without-

None of them feel right.

In the end he settles for something far simpler.

He dials your number, hears the question in your voice when you pick up.

And pours everything into three words, "I love you."

.

.

Vin Jin - Cheonliang

Vin opts for casual and nonchalant, pretends it's something that he thought of rather than something that he has wondered about for the last few weeks.

(Used Mary as a soundboard and she had thought it was a good idea, and if Mary thinks it's a good idea then it definitely is.)

It was a passing thought, at first. A small seed planted and grown until all Vin can think about is how nice the holidays would be with you, how cool it would be to show you where he grew up.

He can't ever escape the awful memories there that still haunt him, but... maybe he can create new memories too.

With you.)

"If you're not doing anything for the holiday break," Vin keeps his eyes on his phone, scrolling now and then to keep up appearances, "Want to come visit Cheonliang with me?"

The question is casual. Easygoing. Breezy. His voice doesn't crack at the end. He's not holding his breath waiting for your reply. He doesn't desperately wish you would say yes, and hasn’t already planned the days with you in advance.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Vin forces himself to shrug, "Might be nice."

"I would love to!"

Vin takes a peek in your direction, double checks he didn't just hallucinate your agreement or that you're joking.

He didn't, and you're not. All he sees is excitement painted over your face and a wide smile. You know how much this means.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, a weight lifted from his own. Equally anxious and thrilled to show you every part of himself.

.

.

Samuel Seo - Gift

"This would look good on you," Samuel shows you a piece of fine jewellery on his phone. It's exquisite. A bit too much for everyday wear (of course Samuel would pick this out, he himself is a bit too much), though it really is stunning.

You tell him it's beautiful.

He pauses, studies your face, then clicks the screen off. Back to square one. "You don't love it."

It's not accusatory, just a statement. But he feels like he needs to get this right. Your first holiday together and you deserve the world. He wants to get you something, really spoil you, to show how much you mean to him.

You take in Samuel's face and can't help but giggle. Him trying to remain unaffected except for a small, telling pout.

"I would love it if you got it for me," You shuffle over until you're sitting in his lap, "But I don't need it."

He wraps you in his arms, adjusting until you're both comfortable, "What do you need?"

"Nothing," Grinning, "I don't need anything else."

"Fine, then what do you want?"

"You."

Your cheesy response earns an eye roll and a reluctant huff of laughter, "You got me. What else do you want?"

"Nothing," you repeat, leaning in and lifting his glasses off. "You're enough."

You pepper his face with kisses until Samuel melts into a puddle; all thoughts of proving his love with price tags and money completely forgotten.