#Happy cheap candy day

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

If you liked my story, I ask that you heart, comment or reblog. And/or you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

PermaTags <3 @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover788 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

Dean @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl

#dean x reader fluff #supernatural fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader valentine's day #dean winchester x y/n #fluff #spn #supernatural dean #queued #supernatural fandom #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fic #supernatural fan fic #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfic

[fiendishfables]

"You already know how much I love you~"

A 2024 Valentines Day Special Ft. Luci + Reader

a/n: Happy Valentines! I don't have a valentine (its my cat) but fuck that, I'm going to snag some cheap candy-

summary: Lucifer decides to take you to a special spot; one where everything began anew for him and his true beauty is revealed

warnings: fluff, cuddles, wholesomeness, Luci just needs some cuddles guys, just cute shi-

words: 1.6k+

additional notes: I like to think there is just some random cherry blossom hidden away somewhere in Hell and that is where our short king got the honor of falling. Or he created the tree upon impact, one of the two. I JUST WANT HIM TO HAVE SOMETHING NICE, THE POOR BABY-

This was honestly not what you had pictured in your brain when your boyfriend had said he wanted to take you somewhere special...

Currently, you and your boyfriend, Lucifer, were making your way up a hill. Its adorning grass was a brownish-green, making it look like autumn had begun to actually seep into the worlds crust instead of just being dusted off until next year. Another thing: it looked strangely untouched. Everything in Hell looked like literal shit, so this was a pleasant surprise, other than its stained color.

You looked up to see your boyfriend had left your side and was practically sprinting up the hill, like he was a Labrador who just saw a squirrel. You raised a quizzical eyebrow but felt the small, familiar tug of a smile grappling for a hold on each corner of your lips. A sigh slipped from you as you shook your head with amusement at his childish antics. He really never failed to make you smile.

Once you had decided to pick up your own pace with what you were using to climb the grassy hill, he had already reached the top. You met him in the next thirty seconds that followed.

Atop the hill he had brought you both to was a beautiful, giant, cherry blossom tree. Its pink petals swayed gently in the wind, brushing against one another and the branches that held them together in clusters. A few delicate petals would come free from the hold of a branch every few seconds, going on to continue its life in a different way, as it drifted towards the ground.

This particular blossom you were watching drift downwards was then caught, gently, in the hand of your boyfriend.

You had almost forgotten he was there, having been mesmerized by the beautiful pink and white colored tree hanging above both of your heads. Seeing him now, he was sitting underneath the cherry blossom, a soft smile on his face. He shifted his fingers so the plush, pink petal was between his thumb and pointer finger, holding it up and out to you like a silent offering.

You chuckled softly, walking further under the tree and plopping yourself down beside Lucifer, watching him examine the petal between his fingertips, almost as if deciding what to do with it.

He turned to look at you again, smiling still (when was he ever not when he was around you). That smile then turned to a smug smirk as he gently blew on the petal now in his palm, whistling softly. The action sent the petal drifting towards you and up, into your hair, where it found a place to nestle itself comfortably amongst the strands, lightly tickling your forehead as it passed by.

"Magic?"

You gave him a small smirk of your own. You knew he liked to do these little acts to impress you; not saying they failed to deliver, but you knew to expect them by now. Still, it was always a pleasant experience.

The ground beneath the two of you was covered in soft, little cherry blossom petals, showing the trees shedding tendencies. The grass that could be seen under the mirage of petals was actually green here, unlike the shit stained looking grass you had walked on leading up to the hill.

He offered a smile, a nod, then looked away, letting out a sigh as he raised his head again. His eyes seemed to be scanning the cities of Hell below; the hill gave a perfect view of all his people, the bustling populations giving light to the aspect that Hell was more alive than the pricks up in Heaven would ever accept.

Whilst observing all of these things, you also seemed to sense that your boyfriend was being a lot quieter than usual. He hadn't spoken since he had brought you up here to sit together. Not once. It was out of character.

"Luci?"

You spoke to break the ever-growing silence, turning your head and shifting your eyes back up to his, only to see him already staring at you. This caused you to flinch a bit in surprise. He noticed this and instantly looked ashamed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked away from you.

"Ah- uh, sorry, darling. Just..thinking..."

He spoke almost nervously, like he was expecting something; walking on eggshells.

You looked at him sympathetically, smiling gently as you took his hand in yours.

"Babe, what's wrong? You can talk to me, y'know?" You said, gently running your thumb over his knuckles in a hopes to soothe him if possible.

He took a deep breath, your eyes trained on the steady rise and fall of his chest. There was silence for many minutes before he finally spoke.

"This is the place I fell."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, the words taking a second to process before you realized he was talking about the cherry blossom. You looked up on instinct, taking in the swaying colors of pink and white, the wind letting them dance around freely and fall how they pleased.

"You...here? Like, fell...here? Of all places?"

You were a tad bit confused. The King of Hell, a.k.a. Lucifer, a.k.a. your boyfriend...fell in this exact spot? Fell where you were sitting right this second?

His nod was the only thing to answer you besides the delicately whistling wind.

"Well...its much nicer an area than I expected for what is to be deemed such a tragedy." You mustered an awkward smile. "Why would you bring me here?" You asked, now more curious than confused.

He looked over at you then back at his feet, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, like he was trying to shield himself from an invisible force.

"Well, ya know....I-I trust you a-and...I-I figured since, ya know, we've been together so long now...that maybe you'd wanna see the place most special to me..."

His slight stammering made a twinge of pity go through your heart but you quickly pushed it away. He didn't need pity right now. He needed support. This place had to be a bit of a touchy subject for him, considering its literally where he first landed when he was casted out from Heaven. You doubted it had many good memories attached to it.

"Most special?" You questioned. That did not make much sense in your mind.

"Yes. I feel like, in a way, my falling was another chance gifted to me. I mean, hey," He chuckled and his normal sparky attitude began shining through once again. "I'm King of Hell, am I not? I think I got a pretty good rep going." He puffed out his chest playfully, glancing over at you.

You laughed softly and leaned over to gently kiss his cheek. His already rosy cheeks amplified in color.

"That's one way to see it. I appreciate you showing me this place, Luci. You being vulnerable enough with me to tell me more about yourself and what's happened to you...I know it must be hard. This place sure is beautiful though." You smiled, looking upwards at the tree from underneath it, then back to him, a smirk replacing the smile.

"Do you think your fall is what caused it to grow with such vigor and beauty? Your fall is probably what birthed the tree, made it so beautiful and prosperous."

Lucifer blushed and waved a dismissive hand, biting his lip to fight his usual smile. This caused you to chuckle softly.

A soft, serene silence fell over the two of you. You could tell he was pondering your question just from the expression on his face. You hadn't expected him to actually try and answer it, if that's what he was planning on doing.

"...You really think so?"

His eyes were watery when he spoke again, as they turned their loyal gaze onto you. Just those words meant a lot to him and it showed, plain as day. He was rarely classified as a beautiful being. Not in Heaven and especially not by the living.

You smiled and nodded, slightly surprised by his reaction but going in full swing.

"I know so, Luci. There is no think about it. Someone with as beautiful a spirit as you is bound to spread that beauty. I have no doubt."

In the next second that followed your ceased speaking, Lucifer had flung himself on top of you. He sniffled as a few silent tears fell down his cheeks as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses there. One of his hands held you close to him whilst the other carded gently through your hair, tangling the loose blossoms into the strands even further. He lifted his head to look at you, big watery eyes filled with so much affection; so much love for you it was insane.

Hellens, just the way he looked at you. Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever yet to lay his eyes on. Like he was a dying man and you a fresh drink of water. Like the one ray of sunshine on a rainy day. Like you were a goddess.

But not just any goddess.

His.

His goddess.

One of a kind.

Your hand gently came up to sprinkle some more of the pink and white colored cherry blossoms into his pale blonde hair that you had come to love so much. Pink really was a good fit for him, you thought.

"I love you..." He whispered softly, sniffling. "So..so much. More than you'd ever be able to understand."

You smiled and let your lips meet in a gentle kiss, before parting once again so you could speak.

"I love you too, Luci. But I think you already know how much."

And it was true.

#hazbin hotel x you #xreader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #valentine #valentines day #holiday #i love luci #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #fluff #wholesome #special #special fic #support your mans y'all #short #I tag “short” as if its not fuckin' almost 2000 words #not my best or fav fic but life goes on and on and on

[foxglovefaun]

happy fuckin valentine's day but forget that corporate shit let's eat at home, bust out the soft blanket, pop in a DVD, and get some cheap-ass candy on the 15th anyway love u bye

#another stupid shirt for the collection #my art #the bridge burner #cyberpunk art #cyberpunk #character art #illustration #valentines day #but make it casual as fuck and really gay

[wheels-of-despair]

The Freak and His Evil Woman Do Valentine's Day Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Last year's anti-Valentine's Day date was a success… but what if Eddie and Evil Woman tried normal romantic stuff in 1986? Contains: Cheap wine, lingerie, sex dice, typical E/EW humor and misbehavior, experimenting with all kinds of kinks and strange tasks, closest I've ever come to letting them have sex on-scr… on dash? Words: 2.9k

Minors and ageless blogs who interact with this fic will be blocked.

Valentine's Day at Hawkins High was always the same; it looked like Cupid's kid ate a pack of construction paper and threw up all over the place. A time for reds and pinks and hearts and roses and candy and cards. Typical. But this year, you didn't even care. You had Eddie, and he had you, and you two didn't need any of this commercial crap. You were above it. You were better than some bullshit corporate holiday.

At least, you thought you were... until you spotted that lacy red getup at the mall. It was really fucking pretty. Completely impractical for everyday wear. But it was pretty, and it was on sale, and it was going to blow Eddie Munson's twisted little mind.

So instead of refusing to acknowledge the occasion or having a rebellious Anti-Valentine's Day date like last year, even though that was awesome, you decided to go for it. Just to see what all the fuss was about. The Freak and his Evil Woman, celebrating Valentine's Day like normies. Who would've thought? You had dinner together at the table rather than the couch or Eddie's bed, you ate with utensils instead of your fingers, you even lit a candle... which smelled like vanilla, and made Eddie whine about wanting cake. And then, before you knew it... it was time to spice things up a little.

You take one last look at yourself in the Munson's bathroom mirror, sexily tousling your hair and adjusting your magnificent rack one more time. You give yourself a nod of approval before turning off the light and slowly turning the corner to Eddie's room.

He chokes on the bottle of cheap wine you'd been sharing when he sees you. You watch as he splutters from his place on the edge of his bed, holding up a finger to tell you that he'll be back to ogling in a second. You wait patiently while he recovers from his coughing fit, leaning on the doorframe and taking in the scene.

You'd told him that you were "going to slip into something a little more uncomfortable", and while you were gone, he'd stripped to the white boxers dotted with red hearts that you'd given him. (Shut up, they were on sale too.) He's even turned out the overhead light and draped colorful bandanas over all of the lamps in his room. Your boy knows how to keep things classy.

"Ho-ly fuck," he says when he recovers.

"Yeah?" you ask, suddenly feeling a little shy.

"C'mere," he breathes, holdings his arms out to you. You walk to him slowly, stopping just when you're in reach. His hands hover an inch away from your hips like he's afraid the red lace is going to burn him.

"You can touch," you whisper.

His fingers graze your hips, and he slowly trails down the front edges of the lacy fabric until he reaches your mound. He looks up at you, and you take his hands in yours.

"Not yet."

He sticks out his lip in a pout, but you bring his hands upward so that he can feel your bra. His hands roam over the thin fabric barely covering your breasts, and he sucks that pouty lip in and bites it. Half of you wants to say fuck it and peel it off and have your way with him right here and now, but… tonight's a special occasion. You need to torture him a little while longer. Even though his hands feel so nice…

He reaches for your hips and pulls you closer, so that you're standing between his legs, and presses his face into the valley between your breasts. You wrap your arms around him and hold him there for a moment, letting him nuzzle into your skin. He breathes in deeply and lets out a long and happy sigh as he melts into you. You'd hold him like this forever if you could.

You lean down to kiss the top of his head, and spot a small white box with a red bow on the bed next to him. You straighten and use his shoulders to push him back.

"What's that?" you ask, nodding toward the present.

"Nothing," Eddie mumbles, batting it aside without looking and trying to dive back into your chest. You chuckle and stop him with a hand on each shoulder.

He looks sleepy. Dazed. You glance down. Hard. Those boxers hide nothing. Your eyes flick from his obvious erection to his big brown eyes with a knowing smirk. You lean over, using your arms to subtly improve your cleavage situation… and pick up the box he'd flicked aside.

"This for me?" you ask.

"Yeah," he sighs, shifting on the bed so that he's straining at his new boxers a little less. "Thought it might be a fun way to get the night started. Then you went and ruined me."

"Awww," you laugh, dropping onto the bed beside him. "Do you wanna save this for tomorrow?"

He shakes his head. "Open it."

You lift the top from the little box to reveal a pair of dice…

"Sex dice, Eddie?" You laugh. "Really?"

"I thought it'd be fun," he shrugs. "Just toss 'em, we'll deal with 'em another night."

"Oh no, we're doing this," you say with determination, scooting back on the bed so you have room to roll.

Eddie sighs and moves further onto the bed to sit cross-legged across from you.

"Are there rules?" you ask, flipping the dice over in your hands to see what each side says.

"Just roll it and do it, I guess."

"So whatever I roll, I have to do to you?"

"I guess?"

"Do you want to go first?" you offer.

He shakes his head. "You go."

You drop the dice between you. KISS EAR. Easy. You get onto your knees and lean forward, moving Eddie's out of the way and planting a gentle kiss on his earlobe. You start to pull back, but Eddie stops you.

"Little more?" he asks. You oblige him, giving his lobe a nibble and leaving a few longer, lingering kisses on his ear and down his neck. When he's satisfied, you drop back into place.

"Next!" you announce, handing him the dice.

Eddie, an adorable little grin on his face as if he's imagining all the possibilities, drops them between you. MASSAGE ASS.

"Gimme," he orders, holding out his hand and flexing his fingers. You laugh and flop onto your stomach next to him. His hands begin to knead your cheeks beneath the red lace. It feels quite nice, so you decide to let him keep going until he's had his fill. He announces he's done with a smack, and you move back into place across from him.

Your next roll is KISS LIPS, which was simple enough. You know he'll object to a peck, so you start soft and slow and even give him a little tongue. When you pull away, he keeps his eyes closed and leans forward to chase your lips. You slap the dice into his hand, and he opens his eyes and drops them… to reveal SUCK BALLS. You cackle.

"I get a do-over," he says quickly.

"Where does it say anything about do-overs in the rule book?" you laugh. "Get to bendin', Munson."

"Shut up," he blushes. "We get to re-roll one of the dice if it's either impossible or too far. Deal?"

"Deal," you agree.

He picks up the one reading BALLS and drops it again. NIPPLE.

"Fuck yeah!"

You roll your eyes, and he reaches for you with grabby hands. You come closer, straddle his lap, and move aside the lace of one bra cup. Eddie wastes no time attaching himself to your nipple, wrapping his arms around your back to hold you close while he completes his task.

"Alright, my turn," you tell him when you start to suspect he's never going to let go. He moans into your skin and tightens his grip on you, refusing to detach. "Eddie!" you laugh, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving him a gentle tug. He comes away with a pop and licks his lips.

"I should probably do the other side," he says seriously, "you know, to even it out." You give him a playful shove that knocks him over, fix your bra, and sit back down to search for the dice that had gotten lost in the covers. You locate them, give them a toss, and are instructed to LICK PUSSY. Eddie rises with a wicked grin.

"Tragically, I am not that flexible, sooo…." you reach for the PUSSY die, drop it, and it becomes BALLS. You look at Eddie, who's elated.

"Orrrr…"

"Nope, one re-roll only, no exceptions."

"Ugh, fine, whip 'em out motherfucker."

Eddie gleefully reaches down and extracts the goods. You lean over and give them a nice swirl with your tongue, gently tuck them back into his boxers, then hand Eddie the dice.

SPANK BALLS.

"Nope," Eddie says, reaching for BALLS and dropping it again. It becomes DICK. You crack up.

"Nope," Eddie says, reaching for the die again. You smack his hand away.

"Nope, one re-roll only, no exceptions," you quote back to him.

"But…" he pouts, subtly covering his junk.

"No exceptions," you remind him. "I'm just following the rules. Are you gonna do it, or am I gonna do it?"

He whines.

"Move your hands."

He shakes his head.

"Do you wanna quit? 'Cause if we quit now, you have to declare me the winner. And I am going to be insufferable about it."

He whines again.

"Eddie. Do you trust me?"

He thinks about it for a minute, biting his lip and giving you his best puppy eyes. Eventually, he sighs in defeat and moves his hands aside. You scoot forward, gently sliding one hand into the leg of his boxers and cupping his cock from the underside. You raise your other hand slowly, watching his eyes become more fearful as you get higher and higher. He scrunches his eyes shut when your hand rises above his head. He holds his breath and visibly braces himself.

You bring your hand down quickly, letting him feel the wind on his pained face. But your hand slows as you come downward, and you give his cock a light clap. He flinches anyway, even though you barely touched him. You extract your hand from his boxers with a laugh. He rubs himself, although you're fairly certain you didn't cause him any actual pain.

"You okay?" you ask.

"Roll the damn dice," he grumbles, fighting a smile.

You roll BITE NIPPLE. Eddie bites his lip. You crawl to him and push him onto his back. You straddle him and lean down to take his nipple in your mouth. Could you have just bitten him and been done with it? Yes. Did you give his nipple a nice wet suck and blow on it to make it harden before you took it between your teeth, rolling it and tugging gently? Yes. He whimpers and bucks his hips beneath you. You let go and lean over to give his other nipple a kiss before returning to your seat. Eddie rises with a flushed face.

Eddie rolls KISS BALLS. You snort, and he re-rolls BALLS, leaving him with KISS ASS. You laugh, ready to tease him, but before you can get a word out, he's flipped you over onto your stomach and planted a kiss on your right ass cheek. He gives your left a smack and searches for the dice while you try to get your cackling under control and sit back up. He drops the dice into your hand with a grin.

You roll SPANK ASS, and without hesitation, Eddie throws himself across your lap. You smile at his eagerness and place a hand on his lower back, giving his boxer-clad cheeks a rub with the other. He crosses his arms and rests his head on them. When he's settled, you give him a smack. Not a hard one, but it has him flexing his cheeks. Your hand comes down twice more before you realize he's grinding into your thigh with each smack. You increase your force, and he's so close to his release when you reach ten, you almost have to peel him off of you.

"You okay?" you ask, as he sits there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, gimme a minute," he grunts, trying to collect himself. When he opens his eyes again, the corner of his mouth twitches, and he reaches for the dice.

He rolls a BITE NECK, making you both smile.

"Alright, vampire boy, have at it," you tease, leaning your head to the side and exposing your neck.

He starts with a slow and sensual kiss, and you close your eyes and enjoy it. By the time he finally bites you, you've forgotten what he rolled, and it comes as a surprise. You yelp, and he comes away with a devilish grin.

You roll MASSAGE BALLS. You move closer to him and reach down to cup him through his boxers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't look away. You stare into his big, beautiful eyes and work his balls gently until his eyes flutter shut. You remove your hand and, even though the dice didn't tell you to, give him a deep kiss. You rest your forehead against his for a second when it ends, both needing to catch your breath before the next roll.

You hand him the dice, and he rolls SPANK PUSSY. He reaches out for a re-roll, but hesitates. He looks up at you curiously, head tilting just a little bit, wondering if you'd do it. You answer him by spreading your legs, and briefly wonder if he's going to pass out. His eyes dart between your open legs and your face. Are you sure, he asks with a look. You lean back on your elbows and put a foot on each of his thighs. He licks his lips and zeroes in on the red fabric in front of him.

Eddie starts at the waistband and drifts a finger down across the lace. He traces your slit and glances up at you hesitantly. When you don't stop him, he slips a finger beneath the fabric. Neither of you had realized just how wet you'd gotten during this game until now. Eddie glides his finger through your slick, and you bite your lip to keep from making noise. Eddie circles your clit, and you let out a shuddering breath and clench your fists. He pulls away. You whine.

And then he raises his hand, and you remember why you're in this position. You adjust your hips, and Eddie's hand claps down, his fingertips landing right where you need him most. You gasp.

"Are you okay?" he asks quickly. You nod and spread wider.

"Again," you breathe. Eddie's eyes flick between your mound and your eyes, just to make sure you meant it, and then he raises his hand and smacks you again. You close your eyes and lean your head back. He hits again, and you grasp the sheets on either side of you.

"Fuck, are we done playing?"

"Uh-huh," you mumble hurriedly. Eddie reaches for the waistband of those red lacy panties you bought just for him, and you open your eyes and lift your ass to help him get them off. He tosses them aside and dives face-first into your heat, lapping your juices with his tongue. You moan, and he responds by slipping two fingers inside of you. You can't take much more of this. "Eddie," you breathe, "I'm gonna--"

His fingers and tongue begin to move at lightning-speed, and it sends you over the edge, seeing spots and gasping and eventually collapsing into a useless puddle.

When you regain enough strength to lift your head, you see Eddie's face resting on your thigh, lightly stroking the skin of the opposite one. You reach down and run a hand through his hair, and he hums contentedly.

"You wanna swap places so I can take care of you?" you ask quietly, massaging his scalp.

"Too late," he mumbles sleepily.

"Really?" you chuckle.

"Mhm," he hums, nuzzling his cheek into your thigh.

"Do you want me to spank your ear and get you ready for round two?"

He turns his head and sinks his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You yelp, and he begins crawling slowly up your body with a predatory grin. When he reaches your face, it becomes a sweet smile, and he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you echo.

Your mouths meet in a sweet kiss that quickly intensifies. Your hand drifts down his chest and through his happy trail and over the wet patch on his boxers. You give him a lazy stroke through the fabric, and he moans into your mouth before moving his lips to your neck. He rocks his hardness into your hand, and you give him a squeeze.

"Careful," he grunts. "Wanna have actual sex at least once tonight."

You laugh and circle your legs around him to pull him closer.

"Better hurry up, then."

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman #eddie munson x valentine's day

[rogueddie]

The entire group hadn't been back to Hawkins, all at once, in nearly 20 years.

The last time they were truly all together was the Christmas before Eddie left for Chicago and Nancy left for college, back in 87, the first to 'escape'. Though, it didn't take many years for everyone else to follow their lead.

Steve is the only one who stayed behind. But he didn't think it was all that bad. Robin had moved back to Indy city once she finished college, so she visited often. He's not truly alone, even if it does feel like it... most of the time.

2007 is a good year though. It's the first year that Eddie comes back to Hawkins. They've been having little reunions with as many of the group as they can, every Christmas. But there's always a few people too busy- Eddie is always one, always on tour or writing or recording.

Not this year though. And Steve is finally excited, looking forward to something so much that it buzzes under his skin.

The others are already there once Eddie arrives, the last to arrive. Steve reluctantly hangs back, trying to downplay his excitement as he watches Dustin and Erica shove their way ahead of the others, trying to greet him first.

He looks great, Steve notes. Healthy.

"And Harrington," Eddie finally greets, already saying his hellos to everyone else. "I see the crows feet only add to your charm, shame on you."

"Yeah, it's good to see you too."

Eddie laughs, eyes scrunching up, dragging Steve into a hug. Steve is happy to note that he lingers, forehead pressing down against his collar for a moment before he steps back.

"Come on, it's Christmas Eve! We're all together, at long last! Put some music on, get the alcohol!" Eddie snaps.

Everyone does as asked and, soon, Steves usually cold, empty house is full of music and laughter. The burn of cheap alcohol warming his stomach and the smell of Eddie and Argyles weed filling the air are an old but familiar comfort that he hadn't realized how much he'd been aching for.

Steve sits in the corner, on his own.

For a moment, he just wants to watch everyone else. To look around his living room, so full of people that Mike, Robin, Argyle and Lucas are sat on the floor. So full of people that Max had grabbed El with shaking hands, pulling her onto her lap, coaxing her into sharing her wheelchair.

As soon as Eddie wiggles out of the corner he'd squeezed himself into, Mike and Lucas are fighting for the space. Mike only wins, sitting down on the sofa with a smug grin, before Will helps him.

Eddie sits down on the little side table, next to Steve.

"How've you been holding up?"

"I've been good. Not as good as you, though. The Rolling Stones, huh?"

"Oh, uh, you saw that?" Eddie smiles a little sheepish. "Yeah, it's... it's been getting crazy. I don't know how it happened. One day we're a small, underground thing and the next, we're almost mainstream."

"Underground," Steve parrots, snorting. "Your first single was played on the radio. You guys have always been big."

"You listen to us, Harrington?"

"Of course. And, you know, I have a first name."

"Really?" Eddie gasps, throwing a hand to his chest. "By the Gods!"

"I know, crazy!"

They fall silent, watching the new little fight breaking out. By the yelling, Steve guesses that Dustin stole one of the pieces of candy that Mike is eating.

"I missed this," Eddie quietly admits. "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner."

"Nah, you were busy with-"

"I wasn't. I wasn't busy. I lied to just... avoid this. Avoid Hawkins. And it's... it's not good being back, I won't lie. But it's... seeing the kids again, seeing- seeing you... it's..."

Steve waits a moment. "What?"

"It makes it worth it. It makes me wish I never left."

"You had to. Corroded Coffin was your dream and you made it happen."

"I know, I just... sometimes I wonder. You know, maybe I could've been happier here. Maybe I could've... I don't know."

"Maybe. But you're happy now, right? And you're so successful! You're doing everything you said you dreamt of doing."

"Mhm..." Eddie hesitates again, for another long pause. "Robin said that you... you're bi."

"Yeah?" Steve frowns, turning to face him a little, wondering where he's going.

"I keep thinking that, I don't know... maybe if I'd stayed..."

Steve nearly presses a hand to his chest, so sure that his heart must have missed a beat. "Wh-what? We... we could've..."

"Yeah, maybe," Eddie whispers. He tugs a strand of hair in front of his face, eyes peaking out at him. "It's just a thought. Or something. I don't know."

"I mean... you're here now."

"What, you wanna give it a shot?" Eddie laughs, shaking his head. "We're going on tour again, in a couple weeks. There's no point in-"

"There is. I mean... if you want to try, I'm willing to, like, put in the effort. We could make it work."

Eddie laugh turns into more a sigh, an almost dreamy look taking over his face. "You're sure?"

"I am." He reaches over, grabbing his hand. "I really am."

"Steve Harrington... Merry fucking Christmas to me, huh?"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #christma22k

[atom-writings]

decay of angels celebrating halloween with their s/o

0.9k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: vulgar language, other than that, none!

a/n: wanted to do a seasonal one and I got a req for Halloween with nikolai but I couldn't understand it. dear anon what were u trying to say. pls

Fyodor

- Fyodor is not a fan of Halloween. It's rare for him to celebrate anything, much less a heathenous one like Halloween.

“Being so excited about ghouls... it seems the masses are finally showing their true faces.”

- He'll join you in whatever you want to do, but he would never help you hand out candy. However, he doesn't mind relaxing with you on the couch if you only have to run to the door a couple of times.

- (Plus, then he'd get to steal some of the candy. He hates it, but he does have quite a sweet tooth.)

- As for costumes, there's no way he'd dress up as anything silly. Every year, he just wears one of his fancy outfits and goes as a “catholic.” Which, like, yes... but he's just dressing a little different than normal.

- He will not do couples costumes. Ever.

- Although, he does appreciate the cover that Halloween can provide for him. He's found that law enforcement are often much more lenient on that day, and he always manages to take advantage of that somehow.

- Other than that, he doesn't care for Halloween at all. He doesn't like scary movies, he hates the gaudy decorations, and most importantly he hates having fun.

- He would completely abandon you on Halloween if he wasn't so paranoid about something happening if he did.

“Those hooligans outside... their faces are covered in cheap masks. If they were to do something to you, you could not even identify them afterwards!”

“But-”

“No, you aren't leaving. That's final.”

- Especially if you wear anything even a little more revealing than usual. Then he's glued to your side all night. For more reasons than just protection...

- Basically, Fyodor is a little hater. Go hang out with Nikolai instead.

Nikolai

- To Nikolai, every day of the year is Halloween. So, when the time comes around that it's Halloween for everyone else too, he's over the moon.

- Don't expect him to come along to a party or something like that, though. He's very firm in his plans every year.

- First, he decorates homes with tons of creepy shit. No, he doesn't decorate his own home. He goes along random streets flinging dead bodies (fake and real!) into people's yards along with covering front doors in cobwebs.

- Then, he sets up an (illegal) haunted house in a nearby abandoned warehouse. People come from miles away to participate, and only a few died in the process (:

”Ah, Y/N! Guess how we got more props for next year tonight!“

- Lastly, at night, he wanders around either 1. vandalizing anyone who didn't decorate or 2. scratching at people's bedroom windows and whistling like a ghost.

- You are always welcome to join him on his Halloween tirade but don't expect him to slow down for you. He's a busy delinquent!

- As for costumes, he always goes all out. Every year he gets a new one. A couple of years he's even been on stilts!

- But a few notable ones were: Black shadow creature with glowing red eyes, spiderlegged mask man, “Spike Boy“ (That one was really bad...) and Fyodor if he got love as a child! (That one was also really bad, but just for him.)

- He'd be totally willing to do a couple's costume though! Though, with one stipulation; that if you dress slutty, he has to too.

- On Halloween, he would really like to spend more time with you. Maybe one year you two will spend the night just peacefully giving out candy. But until then, he is way too much of a lunatic that night to act like anything close to a boyfriend.

(Actually… maybe you shouldn’t hang out with Nikolai on Halloween after all…)

Sigma

- Sigma definitely isn't the biggest Halloween fan, but he doesn't mind it. It's a fun excuse to make some kids happy, even if he does hate the more scary stuff.

- Usually, he isn't too easily scared, but it's different around Halloween. When he has to worry about people acting crazy and going out of their way to hurt or scare everyone... it puts him on edge. When he's that stressed out, anything scares him.

”Why do people have to go all out every year? Isn't this holiday supposed to be about kids?“

”It's about fun!“

”What's fun about crimes?!“

- So, because of that, he prefers staying at home all night. Going to parties or events makes him worry about teenagers vandalizing his place (like from a movie) so, he isn't heading out all night. And because he loves you, he'll make you stay home too.

- The most decorating he'll do for Halloween is a couple of pumpkins, maybe a sign or two. But that's it unless you want to do more.

- He does really love couple's costumes though. Every year, he tries to come up with something cute and easy for the two of you to do.

- Other than that, all his costumes are pretty basic. He doesn't care about looking creepy, he just wants to be comfortable. For a couple of years, his only costume was a big animal onesie.

- One of his favourite things about Halloween is the sweets! He absolutely adores handing out candy. Plus, sometimes, he'll bake some fall sweets for the two of you.

- He's one of those people who REALLY like pumpkin spice, so he loves the excuse to put it in EVERYTHING.

- But he basically only likes the holiday because it forces you two to hang out and relax.

- That is, when you're far away from Nikolai. He's scared of that man normally; but on Halloween? Makes him shiver.

#bsd tag #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd x reader #bsd nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd sigma x reader #sigma x reader #sigma x you #fyodor x y/n #nikolai x reader

[fotibrit]

Peters favorite holiday is Halloween. He patrols that night, of course, but it’s the only night that helps him understand how he is viewed.

It started his first year that he took patrolling seriously. He decided not to wear a costume, opting for his spider-suit as it’s own costume, but received backlash. Mostly from adults, who saw him for the child he was.

“you should dress up too, you know? The kids would get a kick out of it!” (Both parties in the conversation know why the last bit was added. Peter would only bother with the costume if it was for the good of all. If it benefits his community, if it makes it a happier time… who could say no?)

Ever since then, he dresses up over his spider-suit. it got easier once Stark was involved, as the spider-suit became streamlined. He wore cheap costumes over the suit, exclaiming if he saw someone dressed similarly. he introduced a new genre of costume, as the style caught on the next year: Costume over spider-suit.

Most importantly, Peter now carried around a candy bag. A candy backpack, more like, to avoid causing candy-rain (gravity and backflips don’t mix well). This backpack really showed him what he was seen as. Because the first few groups to approach him, the kids walked up with bags held open, chorusing “trick or treat!” and spidey was happy to give them each some candy he had put in his bag. But when he stopped a guy from robbing a house, the owner recovered from the encounter, and then insisted on giving him candy.

“you’ve got to say the words, just like everyone else, young man. Now, would you like hersheys or kit-kat?”

Halloween is Peter’s favorite holiday. Because he participates just like everybody else. And to the kids, he’s a hero. and to the adults, he is still just a boy.

Halloween is the one day a year that peter remembers, everyone is rooting for him.

#peter parker

[waywardstation]

Fair Trade

Akari shares with Ingo a bag of candy she found while distortion diving, though Ingo more appreciates the familiar feelings that sharing candy brings back than anything.

Happy Halloween!! I wrote this off a request an anon gave me about Akari sharing Halloween candy with Ingo. Hope you enjoy!! This is my first bit of writing that I’ve actually published in a while, and it feel like this writing in particular is a lot of nothing, but it was fun just to get something out again!!

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“I am finding it very hard to believe that you dislike chocolate this much.”

“Come on,” From where she sat on the dojo bench, Akari held her hand out to Ingo, the shiny, brightly-colored wrapper in her palm already unfoiled to reveal the candy inside. “It’s not that I don’t like them, I just like other candy more. And I can’t eat all of these myself, so I gotta pick and choose. Also, you have to take it, I already opened it.”

Looking back at her from his position by the dojo, Ingo’s expression was one of discernment — she could certainly just wrap it back up and save it for later. She also could have done that with the last six candies she had handed to him. But eventually, he relented and took it. Popping it into his mouth with an obligatory “Thank you”, Ingo returned to casting his glance at the training grounds’ gate.

Unlike Akari, he had not realized how sorely he had specifically missed sweet, modernized chocolate until she had first given him a piece several minutes earlier, when she had come by the training grounds to see him with a big mystery bag in her hands.

“Look at this, Ingo!” She had called out to him, holding the packaging up against the sunset sky for him to see — orange and purple, it was full of colorful wrappers, and seemed to be decorated with ghost pokemon (some silhouettes he recognized much more clearly than others). “I found this in one of the distortions! Help me eat it!”

A moderately-sized, unopened bag of cheap assorted candies, wrapped in shiny foils that obscured the flavor and kept its brand a surprise until it was opened. No doubt it had been pulled from some store shelf, if not an unfortunate person’s cabinet. Akari had been unwrapping the candies one by one; if it was revealed to be a fruit chew or something of the sort, she ate it herself, but the chocolates were handed off to Ingo.

Reaching her hand back onto the bag, Akari fished out another wrapper and twisted it open, revealing a green gummy inside that vaguely resembled a cherubi’s shape.

“Gummy.” She announced to no one in particular, chewing on it and stuffing the wrapper into her satchel. Picking out and unwrapping another before she had even finished her candy, she held it out to Ingo. “Chocolate. Here.”

“Ah, thank you,” Ingo received it with waning enthusiasm, but dropped it into his mouth regardless. “Have you perhaps considered sharing with your friend Rei as well?”

“Yeah, but last time I did, he got sick the next day. He said he doesn’t want them anymore.”

“How many have you had?” Watching Akari pull out yet another candy from the bag, Ingo was beginning to wonder if she was planning to stop at some point, or keep pushing through until the bag was empty. Knowing her, he believed it would be the latter.

“I don’t know, maybe… Nine? Ten?” The teen did not look up from the candy she was currently unwrapping. “I haven’t been counting.”

Ingo looked away, back towards the dojo’s gates as Akari peeked through the small opening she had made in her wrapper. He was acutely aware of how anything as processed and sugary as candy would not mix well with a digestive system that had become accustomed to a Hisuian diet — concerning both Akari, and himself.

“I advise taking these tracks a little slower; there is no need to rush towards the end of the line in just one night, lest you end up like Rei.”

“Oh man, if you think I’ll get sick off of this, you should really see all the junk I eat that I don’t bring back to share with you,” Akari brushed it off with a laugh as if his recommendation was a joke, before holding another unwrapped candy out to him again. “Chocolate. Here you go.”

“...Thank you.” Ingo echoed once again, tentatively receiving the bite-size candy bar. He chewed it with a look on his face – hard to discern, but appearing to be guilty for appreciating it. He waved Akari off preemptively with a hand before she could even unwrap another candy. “But please, no more; Miss Zisu is supposed to return back from the hall at any moment to accompany me to The Wallflower. I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”

“Well all you have to do is stop taking them, then!” Akari’s voice was tickled with amusement. Plastic crinkled as another wrapper was opened; thankfully for Ingo’s sake, bright, soft pink was revealed under the shiny covering. “Ugh, Taffy.”

Ingo cleared his throat as Akari bit into it anyways, having nothing to say at being called out – he certainly could refuse, but a part of him didn’t want to. And it went beyond the plain craving for the processed sweetness after such a long period of going without it.

Something about the flavor was obviously familiar to him, but that wasn’t exactly what kept nagging him to repeatedly want just one more. In fact, there really was much to be desired from cheap, waxy chocolate.

It was more so the simple act of Akari specifically handing a candy to him that she didn’t want, but knew he liked. It felt like it was tugging on a dormant cord still connected between his heart and his memories.

There wasn’t a lot there, but it was attached to something, deep down.

( )( )( )( )( )( )

It was just like when he and (Emmet went trick-or-treating together as children. The two of them) would always return home with enough candy that (could have lasted them several months, but) would probably only survive a week or two (between themselves and their Pokémon). They would always take turns trading (their candy between each other at the end of the night. Emmet) enjoyed the sour variety of treats and gummies (that would oftentimes end up leaving him with a sore mouth,) while he preferred the sweeter chocolates and (candy bars).

And (when Elesa had come into their lives during their teenage years,) the group would continue the tradition (of trick-or-treating together, and then) swapping at the end of the night. (Chocolates were not willingly traded to him nearly as easily anymore, and) he often ended up being traded the things neither (Emmet or Elesa) wanted. But he didn’t mind (because he liked them well enough, more so than the other two).

And even (into adulthood, when going trick-or-treating from door to door) was swapped out for (late-night scary movie marathons with friends, He found a habit had formed where) he was often handed (the candy bowl near the end of the night, in order to finish off the bit of) untouched candy no one else wanted. (Emmet and Skyla) would lightheartedly jab at him (for functionally being their candy disposal bin, but Elesa would defend him while he himself just laughed,) taking it all in jest.

( )( )( )( )( )( )

…It was just like when he and someone else would always return home with enough candy that would last probably only a week or two. They’d take turns trading, the other enjoying sour candies while he preferred the sweet ones. And when their group continued swapping candy, he was often traded what no one else wanted. But he didn’t mind. And even when things… changed, he still was given the candy that no one else wanted. They would make jokes about him for it, but it was all in jest.

There was so much missing, Ingo knew there was, and it made things confusing as to what actually happened. But he certainly didn’t feel bad about any part of it, when he lingered on the feelings that were left behind.

The fragments were horrifically shattered and spread apart over many, many memories, he could tell. But something about it was comforting. Perhaps it was the fact that so many memories seemed linked together; it implied that this was something that had never changed even while time went on, something that had been continued over a large span of his prior life. He had done something with friends very frequently. And it was something he enjoyed very much.

They were happy memories of people he couldn’t quite remember, and while that was not a novel experience for him at this point, it still dimmed the warmth around the edges. But he could not ignore that it was also cathartic, in an aching, lonely way, to feel that they were so worn and repetitive.

The phantom memories gradually retreated back out of reach, keeping their distance as the sweet aftertaste of the cheap chocolate faded. Something about the fact that an action as seemingly insignificant as being handed unwanted candy, and how it was able to dredge up only emotional remnants of so many hazy recollections… it was a little frustrating for Ingo, if he was being honest.

The complete picture was always just out of reach, it felt like.

But he had lost his entire previous life to the foggy nowhere that used to be his mind. There were a lot of pieces to pick up, and he supposed a substantial amount of them would be small and insignificant — when something shattered like this, there were usually many more small pieces than big ones.

“Another chocolate.”

Ingo blinked, his thoughts giving way to the view of the training ground’s dirt beneath his shoes, then to Akari as he turned to her — she had leaned forward to nudge his wrist with her own hand. Of course, a chocolate nestled within an opened wrapper was held between her fingers.

“Ah-” Ingo hesitated for perhaps a moment too long with a look that may have been a bit too piercing, as Akari’s hand began to retract.

“Right, sorry,” Akari sat back, leaning against the dojo wall behind her as she situated the bag back on her lap. “I know, I shouldn’t keep handing you these when you’re about to go have dinner.”

“No no, it’s alright,” Ingo hastily attempted to correct the misunderstanding. “I apologize, I was not rejecting it; my mind simply drifted elsewhere for a moment.”

“So…” With the usual spirited look returning to her features, Akari held the candy back up. “You do want another piece?”

One last glance over at the gate, but of course Zisu was still nowhere in sight. Only the autumn sunset past the village buildings, and a distant collection of drifblim mingling with the clouds over the fieldlands.

Ingo huffed through his nose and turned to join Akari on the bench, taking the empty spot next to her as the wood creaked beneath him. “…Perhaps just one more; Miss Zisu has not arrived yet, after all. She did say it would be a quick stop by the Commander’s office, but I’ll be honest; knowing her appreciation for conversation, I could be waiting here for her for another half hour.”

Akari held the candy back out to him, and this time, Ingo accepted it. “Thank you.”

Placing the chocolate in his mouth, Ingo sat back as he chewed on it. Mulling over the warm feelings of familiarity that briefly returned once again with the flavor, Ingo wondered if the memories themselves would return at some point as well.

#happy halloween!!!! #I projected onto Akari a lot with this I like chocolate fine enough but I like non-chocolate candy so much more #and will give chocolate to others #submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #pokemon akari #Pokemon legends arceus #Pokemon legends #pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #halloween #candy #waywardstationfanfic

[crushedsweets]

hey sucker! 😋😋

what would the creeps do for valentine’s day?

like yknow, would some be given small treats or do others treat it like a regular day?

happy belated valentines day! hope you guys had fun and shared some love with everyone around you! this is the closest youre gonna get to x reader content from me.

AGAIN THIS IS SET IN MY AU!!! MY AU IS PRETTY DETAILED AND HAS AN OVERARCHING STORYLINE WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIPS, SETTINGS, JOBS, CHARACTER ARCS AND WHATNOT....... so :3 yeah.

Tim and Brian probably don't do much. They'll totally grab some chocolates/candy and eat it, but just cuz its there, not as a gift. if they had a partner, they'd just go get some dinner.. flowers, basic stuff. put on an unironed button up and pick their partner up LOL.

toby might do something depending on where he is in the story. early on, he is not doing SHIIIIT. deep into his friendship with nina(who opens up a lot of his emotional vulnerabilities n stuff), he might feel a little inclined to pick up some flowers for some of the girls in his life (nina, clocky, kate, lazari) just cuz he used to do something small for his sister/mom when he was younger (cuz frank never did shit). if he had a partner, he'd def wanna do jewelry and classic flowers. he likes necklaces and rings and piercings and stuff, doesnt wear them much cuz they get in the way, but likes seeing people wear stuff he got. he's the type to make them turn around so he could put the necklace on them, but if they even slightly laugh at him trying to be sweet, he's getting mad HAHA. "ok nevermind im returning this you fucking suck" (jokingly.. but he is embarrassed). would just wanna stay home though, no nights out or anything

clocky would paint stuff. she'd give nina a portrait of herself cuz nina loooves being someone's muse, do some nice art of forest creatures and leave some notes for toby. she'd feel pretty awkward about it just cuz even when she was with her highschool boyfriend, she wasn't good at giving or receiving affection. if she's gifted any flowers (which she will be getting), she's absolutely pressing them and either sealing them in some paintings, or putting it in frames that hold her old art/art she picked up at thrifts. if she had a partner, she'd obviously paint them or something. i could see her spending a long time working through a journal to gift them, making every 3 pages a painting, drawing, or journal entry expressing something. "today you and i went to get lunch. i think the place was way too expensive, but you liked it." and then empty pages for her partner to fill in with whatever they want.

nina. ok come on. lets be serious. its nina. she's gonna buy everyone(as in toby, clocky, kate, jane, liu) one expensive gift (cologne, watches, shoes, jewelry, makeup) and then throw together mini bouquets, notes, and probably shop lift other smaller stuff cuz 'IM BROKE I SPENT TOO MUCH I HAVE TO' LOLLL.. she's the type to literally decorate her house for it, putting up some of clocky's more romantic paintings (cuz she has a collection of clocky's work), setting out heart-shaped coasters, bringing out heart shaped pillows.... honestly she probably already had those.... she'd absolutely plan galentines dinner for her friends, bake cookies, everything. if she had a partner, it would be really similar. she likes to spoil people, gift giving and acts of service are her ways of showing love - buuuut she does want to be spoiled in return, so physical affection and quality time is what she wants to receive. she wants to be treated like a princess, be picked up, have her doors opened for her, told she looks beautiful, etc.

jack is even less likely to do something than toby. before the sacrifice, he'd grab a cheap bag of individually wrapped chocolates and give them to people he knew around campus. i could see him buying the same chocolates and leaving it in his cabin. telling whoever visits him to take some. nina would leave him some flowers too(say its also from toby) and he'd be really grateful, cuz she'd be very sure to get him whatever he thinks smells the nice. that way he can still appreciate it. if he had a partner, YOU KNOW HE'S COOKING THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DINNER AT HOME. he's cleaning up, very awkwardly trying to dress nice. black button up, slacks, slick his hair back(or he'd just do whatever his partner says looks best, not too concerned with his own preference). he'd feel sooo fucking embarrassed and very nervous but he just wants to make it special. he'd write a long love letter, too

jeff isnt doing shit for anyone. he'll go steal some chocolate and mind his own business. if he had a partner, one that he ACTUALLY loved and wanted to keep around. maybe he'd pick up some flowers and chocolate, mainly cuz he knows thats the bare minimum sort of gift. he'd let them demand that day from him, which takes a LOT for him to let anyone feel entitled to HIS time. if he knows they have higher expectations (dinner, a letter, etc) he'd probably bitch and moan and be like "ugh you already know im into you why do i gotta do this shit" but if theyre serious, he'd probably do it. half assed though...

kates also not doing anything unprompted. she wouldnt even know the day is coming around. her only memories of valentines day would be passing out some candy and cards around class in elementary school, but once she was in the forest, nobody gave HER shit. she might pick some flowers and wrap it in some paper for people , but ONLY if she KNOWS they're getting something for her. like, she'd pick nina some flowers cuz she knows ninas doing something regardless, but she wouldnt get toby anything cuz she wouldnt have expected it from him. then shed feel bad. if she had a partner, again it'd be similar. she KNOWS she needs to put in the effort, but she doesnt exactly have the resources... the farm does pay her some cash since she works with the animals, but she mostly just gives it straight to toby so he can buy stuff for the cabin. but she'd keep it this time around, and quietly ask toby if he could come with her to get some stuff for them. some sweets, a necklace, scribble out a little letter. smth sweet.

janes married. and she goes all out of her wife. buys her like a 3dozen bouquet of red roses, sets reservations at nice restaurants, makes mary breakfast the morning of. all of that. i dont even know how to go into detail on this because thats just how it is for her, theres not some turmoil for her to work through. she'd also start getting sally some stuff. plushies holding hearts, balloons, sweet things like that. if she had a partner...WELL SHE ALREADY DOES!!!!

if liu knows nina is going to gift him something expensive, he's doing the same. he's going to grab her flowers and maybe some shoes or something he knows she's had her eye on. he wouldn't be really subtle about it, just text her "whats on your wishlist right now" LOLLL... he just appreciates nina's presence (after they get over the jeff situation) and likes having a little sister to spoil. he'd probably send jane a bouquet of flowers with a thank you note, since jane did a lot for him. if he had a partner, it would also be very stereotypical. date plans, picking them up, flowers, etc. he'd LOOOOVE to make one of those big baskets filled to the brim with random shit. would wanna come home and draw a nice bubble bath and have some wine. stuff like that in general...

ben, lulu, ann, and dina wouldnt do anything and wouldnt get a partner. lazari would draw some pictures for her friends! sally will draw something for jane and mary

#creeped #not everyone gets equal love cuz...idk #uhh #ticci toby #clockwork #nina the killer #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #jane the killer #homicidal liu #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta fandom #i like when u guys call me sucker im like :D HAYYY

[fanfic-gallery]

manger's random tots #8 [ NSFW MDNI ]

|| cw (dead dove) : implications of stalking, spying

» manager's note: with the trending of the milkman over all my social media nowadays, i've decided not to hop on this train- but instead, write about some other type of pretty boy with a low paying profession (no, this is not a 'that's not my neigbour' fic, thank you) hope you guys enjoy...? (i had the idea him being an oc in mind but you can slap whatever character you want <3)

the neighbourhood mailman; absolute sweetheart, can do no wrong- sometimes giving away small little treats and nick-nacks along side the letters, pulling off light tricks and pranks to gargle a laugh or two, trying to brighten people's days.

yet, most don't seem too kind about his selfless gestures; impatient and grumpy bastards telling him off, yelling at him to knock it off with his piercing bike bell and 'nice guy' act.

on days like those, the only thing that seemed to be his light at the end of the tunnel, after gurgitating hours of cycling about under pretty harsh weathers, being chased off walk-way after walk-way... was you, his last patron of each day.

you weren't one of the first few in his delivery route; yet, you barely lived far down, so why is it that you were always his last? "...don't know... your letters always seemed to be at the bottom of the pile~" is what he claims; when in truth, he just wishes to spend the rest of his late-evening chatting your ear off with fun little misadventures he had during the past week.

he felt... cherished for once in his life; not someone needing to deal with the sour attitudes of people when they're all huffy or some boy-toy, taking his acts of service as an invitation to go running their hands all over him. he loved how he could play around, joke and complain without having the need to refrain himself. he felt... alive.

so it was to no one's surprise that he developed a massive crush on you; always giving you a little extra compared to the other townsfolk. full length handwritten letters, extra savings of candy and snacks he's been distributing that day, that box of pastries you seemed to have been eyeing up for the last few days or that prize you didn't manage to win during on one of your latest trips to the arcade.

seems light-hearted enough, right? if only you knew what other little treats he placed within your regular delivery... envelopes holding typed-letters; pouring his love for you over the many, many pages... each line, each paragraph... sometimes even rambling off into tangents- tangents of what he had been dreaming to do to you since day one... since the day you noticed his pains and took upon yourself to heal him back up.

yet, these sick fantasizes, these twisted thoughts on paper- you never blamed him for it, why would you went the initials signing off the letters eerily matched the creep that lived a few houses down from yours, who always seemed to have brought themselves false hope in charming you even after you said no.

no... you would never blame the innocent, naive mailman who's barely paid enough to suffer from verbal abuse every day of his life; barely having the funds to keep a himself together; yet, still cherished the happiness of others over his own.

maybe that's why you always seemed to accept his 'lustrous' gifts, especially that medium-sized stuffed bunny he so graciously sewed for you for valentine's to rid you of your loneliness. its soft yet limp body still laying on your bed, oblivious of the shine behind its dull black spheric eyes.

"...hah... hah...~" lustful eyes smiling as his flushed features melted against the monochrome screen he's stuck himself to, body trembling with each stroke of his throbbing cock, relishing in the soft breaths as you slept, spurring more pre to drip down his plush thighs, drenching the ground beneath his cheap desk chair. "...soon... soon, my love... i'll tell you the truth..."

#💭 — manager's random thots #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere enstars #yandere ensemble stars #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere haikyuu #yandere hq #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere obey me #yandere tears of themis #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere bllk #yandere blue lock #degree of lewdity #yandere hsr

[manicplank]

What kind of phones do they usually use???

Phones (modern day)

Peppino: Probably has one of those phones you'd get in a box that comes with the prepaid plan. He's too broke to be picky.

Gustavo: Probably has an android of some sort. He's not a brand snob. If it makes phone calls and plays a few games, he's happy.

Mr. Stick: Now HE'S a brand snob. iPhone or nothing. He always has the newest one. He's definitely a phone addict, too.

Pepperman: iPhone. He likes expensive things and popular brands. He also has an iPad he uses for art.

The Vigilante: He probably has a cheap Motorola or something. He's not too keen on technology. He always needs help finding the weather app.

The Noise: Samsung kind of guy. Has the newest and most popular one. He'd get an iPhone, but every time he gets one, he drops it, and it shatters. He's too clumsy.

Noisette: iPhone. Has a cute case for it plus a screen protector. She probably even has a cute popsocket for it.

Fake Peppino: Has an iPad. No one knows how or where he got it. He doesn't use it for much other than playing games and watching videos.

Pizzahead: Another Samsung guy. He likes that he can play around with developer options and tinker with all the settings.

Pillar John: He has a Samsung, but definitely one of the Plus phones since they're bigger. He has big ass hands and needs a big ass phone.

Gerome: He probably has a Motorola. It makes calls and plays games. That's all that matter to him. (He's one of those people that's on level 1000 in Candy Crush).

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #noisette #pizzahead #peppino #peppino spaghetti #the vigilante #fake peppino #pepperman #mr. stick #pillar john #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

[ohbabydollie]

I need more of schlatt & latina reader PLEAAAASDEE 😵‍💫

few more hcs!!

if you grew up in a home that was more of a “children are meant to be seen not heard” schlatt will hear you out!

he will make sure you do feel heard, even when it’s hard

he knows can’t fix the past so he’ll help you learn how to do good in the future

he understands you don’t mean to be angry or upset sometimes but you just are and will wait until you want to talk about it

he’s wants to be there for you through the good and the bad and the awful

onto the less angsty

yk how his fam is big corn people?

ELOTES/ESQUITES!!

he will eat tf out of some esquites or any street food as a matter of fact

likes going to tianguis, la pulga, etc. with you!

especially the cheap ass prices at a pulga

throw in some chicharrón bien preparado n call it a date

likes looking for places to go eat with you

has made it a saturday morning tradition that you both go eat pancita (or anything you like) at a restaurant for breakfast/brunch

it hits everytime, especially when you’re both hungover

likes his gansitos frozen (no i’m not taking criticism)

keeps little snacks or candies in his pantry/fridge all the time

calls u “cariño” “corazón de melón” “vieja” “amor” “chiquita” “chikibaby”etc. especially if one of the nicknames pisses u off

LOVES salsa valentina and chamoy

god forbid someone makes homemade chamoy bc he’s absolutely devouring it with any and every fruit he can think of

if you listen to bolero while cleaning with him he’ll stop you so you guys can dance

“not right now, i gotta clean schlatt” you say as your boyfriend hugs you from behind “jus’ take a break, c’mon it won’t kill ya” he says as you roll your eyes and finally agree

“okay, but no funny business” you say putting the rag down and washing your hands to dance with him. he smiles at you, leaning into you and softly singing the lyrics to you as you smile

before you know it, you find yourselves making out with the music in the background, cleaning supplies forgotten but you’ll get to cleaning tomorrow

he genuinely puts so much love and passion into your relationship, getting you flowers, making the most out of little moments, etc.

he will be as romantic as he can be

meeting your cousins sucks for him though

they (especially if you have any male cousins) side eye him most of the time when they first meet him

they don’t mean to be rude but wtf is a random boy doing in their home???

your male cousins (esp if they see you as a little sister) don’t think anyone is good enough for you

they try to scare off schlatt at first but it doesn’t work so they try plan B

making him stay stupid shit in spanish infront of the family until he gets embarrassed and decides not to return (spoiler it doesn’t work)

“say ‘tengo el pene chiquito’ ” a cousin says to schlatt “tengo el pene chiquito(i have a small dick)?” schlatt asks as they snicker and nod “yeah just like that, don’t change a word” they say laughing while schlatt nods in acknowledgment

“ok, just don’t change a word” they say laughing while you go up to schlatt “y/n, guess what?” he asks you “hm?”

“te voy a dar mis hijos (im gonna give you my kids)” he says making you go red and your cousins stare at him

“hablas español (you speak spanish)?” they ask as he nods

most of your family interrogating him AND you

“does he treat you well?” “does he make good money?” “would he make you work” “cuantos hijos quiere (how many kids does he want)?” “es católico? (is he catholic)” etc.

at the end they decide that they approve of him

he should watch him back if you guys have a nasty break up though (warned by any male family member of urs)

“haha, just don’t break her heart” one of your uncles says to schlatt, laughing and shaking him as schlatt laughs nervously

“no seriously, hurt her and you’re dead, i’ve been to prison, i’ll go again”

at the end of the day as long as you’re happy, they’ll be happy

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt headcanons

[sardonic-the-writer]

—keep playing please

SUMMARY | you've never liked storms. thank god for your weird neighboor and his impromptu band sessions

PAIRING | platonic tommy & wilbur x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNING | reader doesn't do well with storms, hints at a sad past

WORD COUNT | 2.7k+

AUTHORS NOTES | a rewrite of this fic from almost over a year ago. tagging @lyssys @zooone @beep-beep1

🍃 Masterlist 🍃 Navigation 🍃 Rules 🍃

The walls in this place had always been too thin.

Apartments in Brighton normally had that one thing. That one tiny thing that made the picture perfect abode completely dog shit. You had learned that your first couple months after moving out. No matter now completely sound something may seem on paper, theres always going to be something to ruin it. Whether that be leaky pipes, no hot water, or an elevator that doesn't work. In your case it just happened to be paper fucking thin walls.

The fabric of the small couch you were attempting to sleep on had been rubbing up against your skin nonstop for the past sleepless hour. It was rough and smelled like every dingy bar you had to pass on the streets just to get back home from the train: cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol.

Unsent emails lie dormant on your flickering computer screen, the failing power curtosy of the storm wailing outside.

It, being the email, detailed your heated resignation from your dead-end job. An effort that had taken weeks of deleting and typing. Deleting and typing and deleting and typing until the print on your keyboard had been faded to a nothing but a distant memory. Maybe if one were to squint hard enough, they would see the letter a or f on there somewhere.

The device sitting no less than a couple of yards away might as well be halfway around the world in the great planes of Africa, too far from your reach for you to even consider getting up. Everything seemed like that nowadays, actually. There, but not really.

The sound of something shrill made you flinch. Was someone attempting to run a bar of metal through a cheese grater? Oh, right. That was just the sound of the window panes being thrust up against your brick walls. Normally, one would assume that having thin walls is where the misfortune regarding a shitty apartment would end. But apparently having only two windows, both as brittle as the expired candy you received from your batty grandma on the holidays, came part and parcel with it.

But none of that would matter—not a single email, or the lack luster walls, or even the window—would matter. If it wasn't for the tear tracks on your face.

Anyone who knew you even remotely well would have spotted something wrong the moment they entered your apartment. No, it wasn't the handfull of tissues that had missed their goal of the mini trashcan sitting by your side. No, it wasn't the pair of pajamas you hadn't changed out of in two days time. It was where you were sitting.

Ever since your days as a child, when your biggest woes were but an ice cream cone dropped in the dirt, the couch had always been the place to go when the familiar sting of tears rose. It was where the last happy memories of your family resided. And you knew it was stupid to hold onto something that had since fallen to peices, but humans had always been sentimental like that. And what were you if but just a human.

Every time a storm came in you would get like this. It would all surface until that same spot on the couch—propped between two pillows and enveloped with a heavy blanket—was taken up. By you, an echo of the person who had once been bright. Filled with the daydreams of the road ahead of you.

But you knew now those roads just led straight back to where you were now. With emails that would never be sent sitting across from you as you cried for reasons you couldn't explain.

As yet another round of bright electricity struck the ground outside your window, a new sound drifted through the air and into one of your ears. Slow at first, but growing bit by bit until it was enough for your eyebrows to furrow together.

It was a soft melody. Very out of place in your current situation. You felt like you should've watching a symphony from afar while hearing that tune; not wasting away on your couch in the dead of night.

A warm voice accompanied it as well, along with the slow sound of a steady drumbeat. It cut through the next round of earth shattering thunder like a hot knife in butter, dulling the anxiety provoking noise.

With trepidation, you found yourself propping your knees up on the couch, leaning your ear against their living room wall. It was something straight out of a cliche movie—children spying on their parents for instance. It was a poor attempt to be able to hear the weak music better, but for once, you were aiding the opportunity given to you by the poorly built walls.

With the peeling paint of your cheap apartment wall scratching at your ears skin, you were just in time to catch the tail end of the song.

The music was so much clearer now. Crisp, refreshing. Soothing. Before it was similar to the sound of water dripping from a leaky faucet. Now it was a roaring river, washing over you in waves. Bringing a smile to your cheeks that were still stained pink with streaks of salty tears.

You were drowning. Drowning in the lyrics, drowning in the beat, drowning in the utter joy that resonated through nothing but a few musical notes placed in an orderly fashion.

But then, just like that, it ended.

And you were left alone with the weather once more.

Why were you here again?

That's the only thing that came to mind as you adjusted the blanket on your shoulders. Hoping that you didn't look like that homeless person on the corner near the grocery store. A hesitating hand drew itself up to the doors scuffed surface, knocking timidly once, twice, three times before falling limply to your side.

Some shuffling came from the other side of the door. It was hard to tell, but you thought you heard a couple people laughing—one of the people's laughter being louder than the rest, if you could even call it that. Sounded more worthy of the title of a shout. Or perhaps even a wheeze.

The fact was, your head was simply too filled with thoughts. All of them whirling around in a tight blend of anxiety and fear to completely notice the sounds of joy. Why had you left your apartment? For a song you had thought was nice? You didn't even know these people and vice versa. So why in the absolute hell were you practically standing on their doorstep just to hear more of that music.

Your posture automatically straightened as the door cracked open. Light spilled from it, more noise accompanying the action. To say you were a little grateful for the change in atmosphere, from a dingy communal hallway to a slightly less dingy communal hallways, would be an understatement.

"Hey! What d' ya need mate?"

The boy (or man, it was hard to tell. He had a very childlike quality to him) currently standing in front of you was the epitome of everything you weren't.

He had on a turquoise jumper with simple black trousers. A design of stick people decorated with muted colors had been printed loosely on the front. Tousled and wrinkled to the moon and back, it looked like he'd had quite the night. Overall, the guys' clothes looked well worn and loved.

His face was set with a gentle and caring look, a wide smile pulling it all together. He was staring straight at you, his piercing baby blue eyes making it seem like he was looking right through you and into your soul. A light dusting of rosy pink complemented his cheeks, blonde hair tucked behind his ears and falling into his eyes with a slight tickle. If you had any money to bet with at that moment you would have placed it all on the notion that this was the person with the loud laugh you'd heard moments before. Certantly seemed cherry enough for it.

"Yeah, hey." You tried your best for a smile. Something that seemed a bit easier than a few moments ago. "I'm the person who lives a door down, and I couldn't help but hearing the music. Because for some reason I'm still awake tonight. At one in the morning." The last part was a bit quieter, more of a mummble to yourself than him.

Immediately, your words seemed to embarass him, his ears flaming up something ferice as he nervously laughed.

"Oh! Oh yeah, so so sorry about that. We were just having a laugh and playing around, didn't mean to disturb you at all really. I can tell then to quiet down or something if that's what you nee—"

"No!" Your hands froze in mid air as you cut him off. "No, please. I actually came to ask if you lot could keep it up? I have trouble desling with storms, and my walls are really thin, but the musics good and it's a nice distraction."

Blue eyes cautiously tracked your movement as you folded in on yourself a bit, inwardly cringing at oversharing with a total stranger. Your self loathing only increased as he held up a single finger to you as if to say 'hold on', before poking his head back through the door behind him, yelling a few inaudible things back and fourth with someone before returning back to you.

"Uh, hey, what's your name?" He asked you, voice as soft as before. You hesitated for a moment, eyes sunken and lips dry, before answering.

"It's (Y/n)."

"Mines Tommy." The person now known as Tommy smiled. You attempted once more to mirror the look, but it felt less like mirroring and more genuine. As if just sharing a moment with an old friend. He brightened up at that, still maintaining a carefree posture.

"Why don't you come in?" Tommy glanced behind you as if looking for more people but stepped back with the same warm smile to open the door. "You look like death, and I'd rather not have Wil's nice neighbor fall dead at his doorstep. Bad for clout."

"Gee. Thanks." You chose to retort instead of asking who Wil was, following after his laughing figure into the new environment. You had been right about earlier. He was the one with the loud laugh—looking like he was about to double over with the way he practically lost control of himself. Something about that made you chuckle yourself.

Walking through a much brighter lit halfway, you followed Tommy until the thin room opened up into a much larger one. What you assumed would be the living room, although right now it looked more like a music studio. Inside were more people, all of them situated in a sloppy semi circle.

There were about four of them, each sitting by different instruments and laughing. All were men and had a scruffy look to them. Like they were scuffed around the edges, but if you pried hard enough, you could find their soft center.

Tommy looked over at you while you were still taking in the sight. He watched as your pupils adjusted to the new setting, glancing back at him as if silently asking what you were supposed to do now.

"These guys are my friends, it's okay." He leaned over to whisper at you in a tone that was a tad bit to loud to be a wisper. You got the feeling he wasn't that good at being quiet.

"Stay here for a moment. I'm going to go talk to them." He told you before walking off.

Tommy walked up and started talking, something that you couldn't hear from where you were standing. He was using wild hand gestures, and every once in a while the people he was talking to would glance behind him at you. When they noticed you staring right back, each would just offer a wave or smile before looking back at Tommy with a more serious expression.

After what seemed like forever, Tommy turned back around to start walking to you. But this time the four other people trailed after him like ducklings, all of them looking at you with eyes that crinkled together at the edges. Almost as if happy to see you.

"Okay (Y/n)," Tommy clapped his hands together, and noticing how you jumped at the suprise, lowered them back down while mouthing an apology. One of the guys socked him on his arm playfully, causing Tommy to glare at them before looking back at you.

"These are my mates. They wanted to meet you, the praiser and five star reveiwer of my music that happens to be Wil's neighboor." One of them hit him in the arm again with a laugh as they explained to Tommy in a playfully condescending way—like a teacher explaining something to a child—that it wasn't his music. They just received a raspberry from Tommy before he began to introduce them one by one.

The first was Ash. He had on a red beanie that went together quite well with his chunky glasses. Along with his scruffy mustache—that you thought was rather impressive—and chill nature, he could have easily been mistaken as someones laid back roommate from university. A vibe you much appreciated. He offered you a polite tip of his hat and a greeting while balancing a sleek guitar on his hip.

The next to be introduced was a fellow named Joe. He had a large smile and waved at you swiftly. His sandy blonde hair and beard made him look older than he actually was, but giving off a homey vibe all the same. He was the shortest of the group, which was like saying he was the dumbest scientist to work at nasa. They were all giants compared to you.

Then was the next man. His name was Mark and he looked quite similar to Joe. Both had sandy blonde hair and a beard, yet Mark's face was a bit rounder. He also happened to be a few inches taller than the previous member. He didn't say much when Tommy gestured in his direction, just stuffing his hands in his pockets and awkwardly smiling.

"—and that's Wilbur. Wil. Soot. Soot man. Sooty boy." Tommy finally finished speaking, pointing at a brunet with a baseball cap on while dragging out different versons of his name. He just got an eyeroll in response, much different from the soft smile that was tossed your way by Wilbur.

Looking back at you with wide eyes and an expective grin, Tommy spoke directly to you this time.

"Whatcha think?" He boasted with his hands on his hips. "Are we cool or what?" A small smattering of laughter from the boys behind Tommy followed the blonds words as they tried to deny it, doing a very poor job considering you did somewhat agree with Tommy. I mean, you had shown up on their doorstep and all.

You paused.

"You're all too fucking tall." You finally relented with a head tilt, bouncing you eyes from one person to another till they had circled back to Tommy with a glint he couldn't decipher. But something told him it wasn't anything bad. Not like the state he had just seen you in a few moments ago.

He felt his heart swell in the slightest bit for no reason at your words. That was evident enough with the way he bounded over to you to wrap an arm around your shoulders. Wilbur chided him slightly for the sudden action, telling him to give people space like they had talked about, but you just laughed. Feeling like this would become a regular occurrence.

You had a feeling you were going to be spending a lot of time with this new group. That's one thing for certain.

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp x y/n #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #wilbur #tommy #lovejoy #tommy x reader #wilbur x reader #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #one shot #x reader #fluff #comfort

[yuri-is-online]

Bitch the Pot (Trey Clover x Reader)

Trey's birthday is coming up and you really want to buy him a present.

But what if he doesn't want it? What if he just thinks of your efforts as annoying, or even worse what if he sees right through you and makes things awkward. What if he stashes things away and makes fun of them later, years later when he barely remembers your name.

What if he's secretly looking forward to your presence and hasn't even considered he'd be lucky enough to get a gift. What if... what if...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we're going to hurt comfort town choo choo mother fuckers, I am using the Hitchhiking Ghost names for the Ramshackle Ghosts because I am unoriginal, the more I think about Trey the more I realize Idia is right, Trey's a skethcy mfer and yeah that's hot. If you like this check out my masterlist for more fic.

You didn't want to indulge Trey's teeth thing.

Sure it will make him happy, smooth over all your little insecurities pricking at your heart as you poke through the second hand store for what you had thought would be a really cute idea on your way here but now weren't so sure about. Besides you are pretty sure that everyone else is going to buy him a bundle of floss and call it a day, well other than Rook who has been waxing poetic about how he had "the most fitting cap for the Rose Chevalier" so all the more reason to put a little less of a personal interest into your gifting and more of a thoughtful touch.

As thoughtful as you could afford anyway. You aren't even sure Trey likes these sorts of things, though that worry is sort of drowned by how surprised you are to find nice looking china in Crane Port's equivalent of a Good Will. There is a nice selection of tea cups, mismatched saucer plates, and the odd pot sat all by its lonesome all with neatly written prices on stickers you don't look forward to scrubbing off.

Afternoon Tea Special~ Pick one Pot, 4 cups w/ saucers, creamer, and sugar bowl: all for just 25 T!

Cute, and not a bad idea you supposed even if it did feel a bit overkill. Your original intention had just been to pick up a sugar bowl and maybe one cup, something for him to put candies in that had a lid so no flies could get at his violets. But it really would be a shame to pass up such a nice deal and hey, if Trey didn't like it he could just ditch it with the Heartslabyul kitchenware once he graduated and never speak to you again.

"Oh this is such a cute little selection!" The lady at the counter's eyes practically sparkle as she carefully wraps up your choices in tissue paper.

"It's a birthday gift." You can't help but mumble and the sparkle flutters out to her entire body, ah that's right, this lady always did look a bit bored when you came in. It seems like you have fed her and her knitting circle for the rest of the week.

"Well then this won't to at all." She huffs and stops wrapping up your order and bends under her counter, the tell tale ruffles of paper and boxes sounding oddly comforting as she produces what you think is a hat box and proudly begins to organize the mismatched set and fetches out even more tissue paper. "Must be for someone important with how long you've been eyeing up a sugar bowl." She wiggles her eye brows. You try to keep your focus on said bowl, you didn't realize she'd been watching you but then again you have been coming down here every spare weekend to stare at it. This shop was nice, it had a bunch of cheap clothes and nick knacks that were used sure, but a life saver for someone from a completely different world. If the lady is thankfully not offended by your silence. She simply tacks your receipt to the box and sends you off with a wink.

"Thank you for your purchase! Please come back soon!" And tell me all bout it! You swear she says it but you don't hear it, too much blood is thrumming in your ears

The hat box is not out of place among the gifts on the party table, so trey doesn't have an excuse to stare at it even if his eyes keep coming back to it. It's lavender, plain save for the cream bow he hopes Yuu tied around it, and had been decently heavy when he picked it up before Cater scolded him about playing favorites.

"Be a good Senior and eat the cookies we made for you until Riddle brings out the cake." He flicks his nose with a knowing look. "Normal people save the best for last right? I'm sure Yuu-yuu will be fine with waiting, since they can barely look at you today~" And of course like a fool he whips his head to look, startling them and proving Cater's point as they immediately scurry back to Ace and Deuce.

"Screw you." He's only half joking but Cater's fully laughing and probably already took a picture. "I'm just worried they felt like they needed to bring a gift I would have been happy just to-"

"No you wouldn't have." For someone who likes lying to himself Cater really doesn't seemed thrilled with his choice to gaslight himself. "You would have spent the rest of the night thinking 'ooooh it'd be really nice if I got something from Yuu, I wonder if they hate meeee, I should make sure they think I don't care about helping them some more so they leave me alone and I don't have to think about how nice it would be to-'"

"Cater!" Trey has never been so grateful to hear Riddle yell about anything in his life. "Could you please help me with the cake? I was going to ask Yuu but they had to go back to Ramshackle."

"Yuu's back at Ramshackle?" Trey reaches to adjust his glasses, trying to ground himself.

"Yes, they said they were feeling sick and-" That's all Trey registers, though he hears the rest "went back to lie down, Grim insisted on staying to make sure the food didn't get them sick." It's his party, he can't just leave that would be an extreme violation of the rules but Cater's earlier accusation comes back to him. Make them think I won't care about them. It's not intentional, he thinks it's obvious he always will but then again-

"Fifteen minutes." Cater whispers under his breath.

"Thirty."

"You're delusional." Still Cater doesn't sound mad. "Eighteen."

"Twenty." He's already snatched up the hat box and making his way towards the doors.

~~~~

"Awww Yuu." Phineas would pat your head if he could. "I'm sure it's not that bad, you're just overthinking things."

"Yeah I think anyone would be happy to get a gift from you!" Gus tries, all three ghosts perking up slightly when you smile just a bit at his encouragement. "And if not then well..."

"I know I'm just being dramatic but I couldn't stand waiting anymore." You don't mention how Ace and Deuce had been teasing you, not wanting to relive the absolute embarrassment of having been caught staring at their Vice-Warden one too many times for dots to remain unconnected. "I asked Grim to bring back some cake but I don't know if he'll remember."

"Oooh let's take bets on it!" Ezra cheers and a familiar, unexpected laugh interrupts sending the ghosts scattering and leaving you at the mercy of a familiar face.

"I think it's safe to say that would be a pretty obvious bet." Trey sets the hat box on your coffee table, folding his strong arms and firmly sticking a lump in your throat. "You should have bet on me."

"Returning your gift is not bringing me something." You huff and Trey has the decency to look a bit awkward.

"I'm not here to return it, there's rules to gifts you know." Oh no. "For example, on our birthdays, the Queen of Hearts says we get to ask for anything we want." He finally moves, unfortunately for you he's decided to use his height to his advantage and lean over the table to crowd you back into the couch. "And I spent a long time thinking about what I should ask for from you."

"Um- I well-" You're looking everywhere but him now, as if you were before. "I did get you a gift though?" He laughs.

"And you ran away before I could thank you." Trey begins to unwrap the ribbons, slowly as if he's waiting for you to look at him but not wanting to deny his curiosity any longer. "But that doesn't change the rules. Sorry, I didn't make them."

The sugar bowl is the first piece he finds, the shop lady has to have set it on top on purpose. His eyebrows raise, not in disappointment you think, curiosity hopefully as he slowly opens the rest of them.

"Sorry." You immediately say to fill the space out of habit, and Trey stops his examination to look up at you.

"What for?" He picks up the sugar bowl, just as amused as you with the clover flowers patterned across it in a nice twist on his name and half the accessories he owns. "Don't tell me you want this stuff back, its mine now."

"No! I'm glad you like," you cringe at the question in your tone and cower at the smirk on Trey's face "I mean I hope you like it."

"A hand picked tea set from the Ramshackle Prefect? It's perfect. Especially for a birthday gift for me." He carefully wraps up the cups and their saucers, silence once again falling over the room as you wonder why he hasn't called you out on your lie, the self doubt suggesting he hadn't noticed. "I meant what I said earlier you know."

"What, about making demands of me?" You say.

"Hey chill I only sort of meant it like that." He doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement. "I mean betting on me. I know it might sound strange to hear me say, but I do have things I think are worth extra effort. And if I have to put in a lot of it to get you to understand that I am glad you are in my life, then I'll just have to do that." So he did know you weren't sick, and was just dancing around the subject to be polite as usual.

"Happy birthday Trey." Because what else are you supposed to say, and he tries his best to not let his disappointment show as he takes his opened gift back to the rose garden. "I'm- I hope you have a nice time at your party."

He pauses at the threshold of your dorm, the wicked smile returning. "I think I know what I want to ask you to do."

"Oh no." You did not mean to say that out loud.

"Mhm. But you are going to have to come back to Heartslabyul to hear it, but after the party, we can use our cups." Our cups he says, as if you had picked out any cups that were supposed to represent you.

He noticed, of course Trey noticed that there was no trace of Yuu in this very you gift. But he could fix that, if you would just give him a chance. And maybe get the calm celebration he actually wants when you do.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #hm #tempted to make goodwill lady an oc because i think yuu deserves an ally in crane port #no idea who she'd be based off of though lol

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

4th Day of Christmas

Gingerbread Houses

Summary/Prompt - “Everyone knows you’re not actually supposed to eat the gingerbread house. Those things are stale as hell.”

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

You finally finished laying out all the supplies and ingredients on the kitchen table to make a gingerbread house. Part of you hopes you’ll have some company, but if not you’re more than content to play your Christmas carols and make it yourself. With Sam and Dean nowhere in sight you find your Christmas playlist on your phone and play it through your headphones, knowing they’d just complain anyway. You love the hunters but they lack a little Christmas spirit at times. Dean tries for you, he really does, but with his past and the life he leads he doesn’t really see the point in celebrating anymore. There’s always more important things on his mind. The last proper Christmas he celebrated was before he went to hell. 

The three of you had been hunting what you thought was Krampus but really ended up being a Pagan anti-Santa that was killing people in Michigan. All the festivities got Dean in a festive mood, and with it being his supposed last Christmas topside he wanted to make the most of it. Sam was skeptical at first, but you finally convinced him to do it for his brother. It was a quiet affair: a tiny twiggy tree with cheap lights, cheap eggnog, some last minute gifts from the Gas N Sip, and the game on TV in an old motel room. But all of that is what made it perfect; it was a clear representation of your lives and most importantly it made Dean happy. 

With Dean now back and you two agreeing to stop wasting time silently crushing on each other and actually give dating a chance, you wanted to feel and give him some of that Christmas cheer again. That’s how you ended up at the store buying all the ingredients for gingerbread as well as heaps of icing and lollies for decorating. 

You lay down the biggest of the freshly cooked and cooled gingerbread cookies you made on a tray. Then you pipe some icing in a square near the edges to stand the four walls. Once all four walls are carefully balanced and iced in place you add more icing to the top of each cookie to add the roof panels. Then it’s time to decorate. Just as you’re looking at it trying to decide how you want it to look, a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a kiss is placed on the top of your head. 

“That looks great, Sweetheart.”’

“Wanna help me decorate it?”

“I’d love to, but uh, Sam found a case just a few hours over. Hopefully it’ll be a simple salt and burn and we’ll be back for dinner. I’ll let you know either way.”

“You want me to come? I can be ready in ten.”

“No, it’s okay. We can handle it. You enjoy your free time. Make sure you call me if anything goes wrong.”

“I should be the one saying that to you. I’ll be safe here in the Bunker.”

“I’ll call you when we get into town and then let you know what we find. I’ll see you later, hopefully.”

“I love you, Dean. Be safe!”

“Yeah, love you too Y/N.”

He kisses you on the lips before walking down the hall. You say a silent prayer to your angel friend to keep Dean and Sam safe. Then you return to the task at hand. You pipe decorative shapes of icing over the cookie house and then strategically place the rainbow candies in the icing. Once you're happy with your design you place it in the fridge to cool and set. Then you start to pull out some other decorations you picked up and place them around the bunker for a more festive feel. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A few days later the boys finally return from their hunt. What was meant to be a simple salt and burn ended up being a lot more complicated when they found out the body was already cremated, leaving them to track down other family members who had taken some of the possessions after the funeral. 

They’re both surprised as they walk into the war room. They take in the tinsel lining the tables, the decorated fir tree sitting atop one of them and your gingerbread house and carefully wrapped presents sitting under it. Dean quickly comes over to you and wraps you in his arms, kissing you passionately.

“This looks wonderful, Sweetheart. This must’ve been a lot of work by yourself,” he says once he pulls back for air.

“You’re worth it. You both deserve to enjoy Christmas. You work so hard.”

“You do too. I wish I had’ve gotten you something.”

“Coming home safe is enough. You’re all I need.”

He looks over at your handiwork again, smiling. “So when can I try your creation here?”

“It’s a decoration! You can’t eat it!”

After a while you separate to let them unpack while you cook dinner and serve it on the tables under the tree. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The three of you fall into rhythm just doing research and enjoying the decorations. They even let you play Christmas music sometimes. You love the more relaxed nature that it all brings, if only for a few days. 

But one night as you’re all sitting there reading massive books Dean reaches over and snaps a piece of the cookie of the overhanging part of the gingerbread house. You cringe internally as you watch him place it in his mouth. The house had been sitting out on the table for days, you couldn’t begin to imagine how terribly stale and disgusting it would be by now.

He instantly spits it in the bin beside him and chases it with a long swig of beer. “No offense, Babe. But that is absolutely disgusting.”

“Everyone knows you’re not actually supposed to eat the gingerbread house. Those things are stale as hell.” You laugh.

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Ditched Date: She only agreed to go on a date with him as a favor. Yet when he abandons her and she sees a familiar face and things happen what will happen? Will they make a good impression or will it have better if she had left? Yes there will be a happy ending but it will be angst.

Loki at the time will be a worker she is attached to, but never considering because she thought his flirts with just teasing. Yet when he dates her after she was ditched she thinks maybe she was wrong. The jerk co-worker can be whoever you please.

Sorry this took a hot sec to write! I tweaked just a few deets, but I hope this still satisfies you! Enjoy :)

“The Date”- A Loki/F!Reader Oneshot

After getting tired of your unrequited love for the intolerable, indubitably attractive Loki going unanswered, you finally decide to humor a co-worker and ask them out on a date. When your date loses you in the crowd, the god you last expected to see finds you at your most vulnerable moment…

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader Genre: Angst, fluff ending Word Count: 3k Content Warning: date ditching, body insecurity, Reader has sensory issues, angst

“So…you like cotton candy?” “Not really.”

Another dead end, another failed attempt at making the connection. At least this time Les asked something simple, something that made sense. Five minutes ago, the attempted icebreaker had been “So, what’re your views about that war in Pakistan?”

You deserved this, though, at least in your mind. 

 “Oh, sorry,” replied Les, looking around awkwardly as you strolled about the street festival, the sidewalks lined with makeshift booths, cheap games, oversized stuffed animals, and food stands serving only the greasiest, sugar-filled delights anyone could crave. “What about…churros?”

You twisted your lip, already regretting the choices that led you here this afternoon. “Yeah, I…I like churros.” 

“Okay.” 

Thus ended the longest, most complex conversation you’d ever had with Les Leandermann. 

Working in Stark Tower, under Tony Stark, Nick Fury, and The Avengers, was nothing short of an adventure for you, but in every epic saga, there was one piece of plain white toast among the fancier cuts and spreads, and that toast was your deskmate, Les. He was attractive, if a little height-challenged, and he came from a sweet, wealthy family of jewelers from out on Long Island. He had perfect teeth and a strong chin that several women you knew fantasized about. A few of your co-workers envied that you shared a workspace in HR with him, and that he seemed to have genuine affection for you. 

The only co-worker whose opinion mattered to you, was your only ‘office pal,’ Loki Laufeyson, the newest Avenger, fresh off of a successful plea for his life in front of an intergalactic tribunal for his sins against New York. Many of Stark’s underlings still feared him, or refused to trust a word he said, even as he integrated himself into the day-to-day life of Midgard with relative ease. 

He amused you right away, and sensing that, you were drawn to one another like magnets. At first, it was the shared feeling of being outsiders that connected you, but after a while, the feelings on your end began to change. The eyes that winked at you were suddenly a more vivid azure. The sheen in his hair took on a new sharpness, defining the jawline that you suspected could cut glass. Your ears drank in his deep baritone like a rich, dark broth revitalizing you on a cold, empty morning. It took about a month for you to realize that you weren’t exactly looking forward to seeing Loki around the office because you wanted to hear a joke.  

At first, it was just his blue eyes you noticed with renewed interest. Then, it was how the sheen in his hair was so bright it seemed impossibly so. You began to imagine how his lips would taste, what flavor toothpaste he used and if he let the scent of it linger on his tongue just in case a pretty suitor crossed his path. He seemed to be that ‘type’ to you--always ready for a whirlwind romance (or, if not a romance, at least a good dicking). You knew he could crush you in his arms, and the more time you spent around Loki, letting his light taunts and teasing bring him closer to you, the more you wished he would crush you under his body. 

Sadly, it was at the same time that the evil demons that often accompanied new love began to rear their ugly heads: you couldn’t stand the way you looked. How could he ever want anything more from such a homely, lumpy, average-on-a-great-day creature such as you? Especially when, looking around you, you realized that there was no way Loki would see you as anything but a sidekick, not with the likes of the Black Widow around (not to mention, Loki didn’t restrict his lusts to one gender…so really, you had everyone who wasn’t Thor or Stark to worry about up there). 

At first, you kept up hope. He was spending the most time with you, after all. However, it occurred to you in no time that maybe you weren’t looking at things the way he was, explaining why nothing was progressing between you. One day, you’d decided to test that theory…

“Lokes?” you called one afternoon, slowly walking into one of the lounges wearing a black satin dress that clung to every curve of your torso and legs. Steve Rogers’ eyes nearly popped out of his skull when you walked in. 

“What is--oh my!” he grinned immediately upon seeing you, making your skin twinge with hot excitement. “What is this?” he asked, indicating the odd attire. 

“It’s an old rag that I found in my closet last week,” you began, smiling coyly, hoping he’d take your bait. “I can’t remember why I got it, but what do you think?”

“I think you overdressed for work today,” Loki quipped back without missing a beat, winking again. “Besides, if your intent was to attract a male’s gaze, I think Rogers over here has already nibbled on your hook.”

Your shoulders immediately dropped. Damn, you thought. 

“I think you look stunning,” said Rogers, smiling broadly. You knitted your eyebrows with subtle ennui, confusing him. “What? You asked us how you look!”

“I asked YOU,” you asserted, pouting. 

“And I said already that you look overdressed,” he replied. “Whoever you plan to impress is going to see a woman trying entirely too hard.” 

Finally, you let a frustrated growl escape your mouth. “You…you asshole!” 

This surprised Loki, who raised a curious eyebrow. “Oh? What’s this?”

“You think you’re so clever, and you might be at that, but sometimes you’re remarkably stupid,” you shot out. “Do I have to fucking skywrite it? You know what….never mind. I’m done! I give up on you, Laufeyson.” 

Loki was only a little hurt by your words as he watched you leave. It was going to be alright. He already had a remedy in mind for you, and he knew exactly what (or rather, who) he needed to help him pull off his master plan.

You didn’t like carnivals at all. Not even when you were a child did you draw anything but sensory overload from the bright strobe lights, loud calls from the game stands, the hot, stifling summer air suffocating you, buzzing and ringing, and the worst part: the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds. You were utterly convinced that someone was going to pick your pocket. Even the pleasant smells of frying dough and popping corn were never enough to give you any semblance of comfort or ease here. 

But so rarely did this section of New York City open to festivities, and Les looked so excited to take you to the fair, that you felt you had no choice but to oblige the man. When Loki found out about your date, that was the first point he’d brought up. 

“You’re so desperate for any date that you’d subject yourself to a personal hell for the possibility of getting some physical--”

“--it’s hardly HELL,” you reasoned. “And Les is decent and cute enough. It isn’t like you ever--”

You stopped yourself short as Loki raised his shoulders, almost expectantly, as if waiting for you to finish your near-confession. You weren’t planning on giving him the time of day. 

All you mustered was “Well, you should have asked me first” before spinning on your heels and leaving the man you would have fallen at your feet for in your wake. 

“So you don't like rides either?” asked Les, looking up longingly at the ferris wheel. 

Shaking your head, you bit your lip and explained. “I don’t like being hundreds of feet in the air with a few metal rods and a chair keeping me from becoming a puddle on the pavement.”

Sighing and shrugging, Les looked around, as if he had something, or someone, specific in mind he was looking for. “Maybe I should have listened when you said you wanted to go to supper instead.” 

Twisting your lip, you tried to keep from saying well, duh. “Maybe a funhouse? As long as it isn’t scary?”

Les stood in thought for almost too long of a moment, as if the idea of wandering in a haunted house or the like gave him an idea. “I saw a mirror maze over by the arcade,” he said. “It was just around this corner, I think.” 

The pair of you walked in silence. You didn’t admit it to Les when you suddenly felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as if you got the feeling that you were being followed from the shadows. Alas, the crowds were so heavy that looking around would have been useless. Besides, spending any time attempting to look through the throngs of bustling carnival-goers would probably trigger your claustrophobia, and that was the last thing you needed to further ruin this quickly-failing date. 

You found the Maze O’Mirrors and got in line. Les looked you up and down and sighed. 

“You…uh…want to do anything else after this before we go back to my place?”

Quickly shaking your head, you were scanning the crowd as much as you could without getting distressed. Something felt off. Someone was stalking you. It was something that any employee of Stark and the Avengers was trained in, right down to the night janitor. Anyone on SHIELD’s payroll was at risk of being kidnapped by an enemy.

You were too distracted that you had to be herded forward as the line moved. 

“Look,” Les finally began. “Are we really doing this or what?” His voice changed its tone, and he was suddenly a bit more assertive-sounding as anger finally began to unfurl in his mind. 

“What do you mean?” you asked half-heartedly. 

“You’re treating me like your cousin, Y/N. I asked you out, and I don’t think you realize how many women in the office would commit a crime for the opportunity.” 

It was the change in demeanor that snapped you back to your date. “Uh, Les, I’m--”

“--no, I’m done with these office games,” he snapped, shaking his head. “I’m not doing this anymore. Look, Y/N, you’re smart enough, and you’re sometimes good for a laugh around the water cooler, but I don’t really like you. You’re a flake, and you’re clearly using me now.” 

Wow, you thought. How could any barbs coming from Les Leandermann hit so hard? 

“Using you? When you asked me on a date?” you shot back, raising your voice. 

“I did it as a…favor,” Les admitted. “After spending the past two hours with you, frankly, I understand why your bedsheets are so cold. You’ve complained nonstop since we’ve been here!”

Your jaw hit the floor. “Excuse YOU, Lester Leandermann, but I’ve barely spoken at all!”

Les looked behind you a moment, almost looking like he was being fed a line from somewhere in the distance. You could have sworn he nodded at someone, but when you turned your head, all you saw was the long line behind you. 

“I hope this doesn’t affect our work relationship, but I can’t see you again, Y/N. You aren’t worth it.” Les finally stepped out of line, and without turning back, began walking away furiously. 

“Les! No! Wait…you were my ride!” you cried after him, your voice drowning in the ocean of background noises. “Dammit!” you groaned. 

“Alright, lady, next! You’re holdin’ up the line!” a teenage boy with a face full of zits and a heavy Bronx accent coaxed you forward in spite of the distress you began to feel. Les may have been a jerk in sheep’s clothing who’d just turned on you rather suddenly…but you were a whole borough away from your loft…it would take hours to walk home in the dark! 

Practically shoved into the house of mirrors, you immediately regretted not running after him. You were accosted by reflections from all angles of your body, and none of them were flattering. 

Even Les can’t bring himself to fuck this fat ass, you thought bitterly. I guess all the office girls got HIS personality wrong. 

You felt warm tears prick the corners of your eyes as you quickly paced past all of the haunting images of yourself in various states of humiliation over being ditched at a street fair. You couldn’t bear to look at the judgmental faces as they followed you through the ramshackle hut. You followed the red line on the ground, dotted with arrows, telling you the quickest way out of the mirror maze. It felt as if you were walking miles. 

Finally, you leaned up against one of the mirrors, frustrated at how endless this path was, and how alone you were in this awful place. 

That was when, out of the corner of your eye, one of the reflections changed, your sorry image dissipating, and the body replacing it was the person you least expected. At first, you thought the angst that was flooding your senses was beginning to cause you to hallucinate. 

Alas, the reflection of Loki acted of its own accord and stepped through the glass, his corporeal figure now in front of you, flesh and bone. He could immediately see your bloodshot eyes, failing to hold the tears back. 

“Fancy seeing you on this side of the mirror…has he bored you to tears already?” 

You sniffed, trying to muster up just a mote of dignity. “He…he ditched. We weren’t suitable.” 

Loki scoffed, but his smug smile dropped. “I could have said that to you weeks ago.” 

“But you didn’t,” you shrugged. “Anyway, I think I’m just going to go. Would you mind not lording this over me until Monday? I need to recover.” 

You brushed by his shoulder to continue toward the exit, but Loki caught your elbow before you could get further past him. “I’m truly sorry, Y/N. He wasn’t worthy of you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Him. You. Everybody!” you groaned. 

“WHat about me?” Loki asked, gently taking your hand. 

“I’ve been rejected by all of you!” you nearly shouted, as if the answer was obvious. 

“I have done nothing of the sort,” Loki said quietly. “I…I’m sorry if you didn’t take my teasing for what it really was. If I caused you any insecurity, I will make amends. I never meant to insult or put you off.” 

You shook your head. “What was your teasing for, then?”

Loki smiled and drew your chin upward, pulling your body in so your chests were nearly pressed against one another. Your lower lip trembled. 

“It’s my love language,” he admitted in a tender whisper. “Laughter sets my heart on fire, and there is no act more intimate to me than a private joke between two lovers.”

The words were rich and delicious on your ears. 

“I thought you were understanding my angle, but I misread the signs, which I am prone to doing when it comes to women, I’m afraid,” Loki confessed. 

“Then there’s no apology needed,” you muttered, trying to regain composure as your emotions shifted from embarrassment and sadness to confusion and lust. "But, are you sure you want Les Leandermann's castoffs? I mean, if he didn't want me, then why should--?"

Loki finally drew your face to his mouth, gently kissing you, making your ankles weak and spine shoot chills to your hips.

"You aren't his castoffs. He wasn't strong enough to handle your radiance," the charmer replied. "I vow to be more forward with you from tonight onward, but know that I've never held you but in the most admirable esteem since the day we've met. Just because you aren't compatible with that piece of cardboard doesn't mean you aren't a jewel worthy of the crown of Asgard."

You felt your cheeks go hot as he places his palm on your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"I won't doubt you ever again," you said with relief. "And thank you for ceasing with the games. Sometimes I just can't keep up!"

He smiled down at you. “Y/N, shall we adjourn to a quieter corner away from here, perhaps some bistro in a private corner of Little Italy?”

“How do we get out of here? I think these arrows are a trick,” you asked, indicating the painted lines at your feet with the toe of your boot. 

Loki took your arm in his and walked you up to a panel of glass. Setting his palm against the pane, the mirror seemed to become a translucent doorway, easier to walk through than a wall of bubbles. 

“Do you not remember who I am?” he bragged, pulling you into the mirror with him.

The carnival was about to close when you asked to stop at the restrooms. As you did so, Loki made his way over to a fortune teller’s stall, his quick eyes sensing the elderly woman using sleight-of-hand to choose the right tarot cards to satisfy a hopeless dreamer sitting across from her. 

Someone was waiting for him there, looking anxious. “Can I have my thousand dollars or what, Laufeyson?”

Gritting his teeth, Loki hissed and rolled his eyes. “You’ll get it, Les. Norns, let me enjoy the night first!” 

“You could’ve just finally asked her yourself and cut out the middle man, you know,” groaned the shorter man. “You do realize I haven’t flirted with a woman since I came out?”

The God of Tricks shrugged and began fiddling through a small wallet he’d pulled from a back pocket, extracting a few green bills and roughly tossing them at his accomplice. 

“By the way, you oversold it, you idiot. I didn’t ask for you to insult her,” he scolded. “Just to leave her to me and make yourself scarce!”

Les twisted his lip. “I got carried away, man. Sorry.”

“Now go find some strapping man to ride the big wheel contraption with. I have a lady to woo.” 

Les smiled and nodded sincerely, quickly counting the cash and walking away from his temporary employer. 

Smiling to himself, Loki took a moment to spot you in the crowd again. You were waiting, leaning seductively up against a tent, obediently staying put for now, mulling over your happy change in fortune. 

Oh, Y/N, Loki thought to himself, tsking as he slowly began his signature saunter, traipsing the lane like he owned the entire park. You could’ve waited for me to fall at your feet, but you chose to play games. Now you’ll see just how ‘playful’ I am, Princess…

Tagging a few mutuals: @chantsdemarins @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @muddyorbs @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @sarahscribbles

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki fluff #loki angst #sensory overload #mcu angst #fic request