#mikeyreqs

Reader coming on there cycle in bed and the slasher thinks there bleeding out or smtn until they explain it to them?

Allll fluff, you could do headcanons or a specific slasher if you want

Slashers reaction to you starting your period

(Michael, Thomas, Vincent)

Note: excuse this if this a little sloppy, i planned on doing a few other slashers but then i didnt feel like it lol. mental exhaustion is real! anyway, i hope you enjoy <33

Michael

It was a rare night where Michael was sleeping in your bed, he usually doesn't sleep at all or chooses to sleep in the guest room or on the couch in the living room. You don't know why he did that, but you never forced him to come and sleep in your bed, not wanting to overstep boundaries. Michael is a complicated man to understand, and you don't want to push his buttons too much.

You nestled against him, your head comfortably resting on his chest as you basked in the warmth he emanated. You appreciated these rare moments with Michael, especially because he kept you warm on the coldest nights. After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning, you finally climbed out of bed, intending to get a glass of water. Just then, you heard the sound of Michael shifting, turning to face you.

"I'll be right back." You smiled, taking a moment to admire his mask-less face. From where you stood, he looked like just a normal man, his brown curls that laid perfectly on his forehead, the slightest dark bags under his mismatched eyes, and the way he laid in your bed, he didn't look like a man who has tormented your small hometown known as Hadonfield.

Just as you were about to turn around, a strong hand seized your wrist. When you looked back, you saw Michael propped up in bed, staring at you intently. His expression remained blank, but there was purpose in his movements. He drew you closer, lifting your shirt as if searching for something specific. When he couldn't find what he sought, he gently tugged at your shorts.

"What are you doing?" You questioned with a confused chuckle, looking down at yourself. Michael grabbed the bottom of your shorts and pulled them so you could see. You had apparently started your period, you completely forgot to keep an eye for that this week.

"Oh." You figured that was what Michael was looking for, the source of the blood that now stained your favorite pajama shorts.

Michael looked to you, and tilted his head. You figured he was probably never educated about this subject, you wondered how you would explain it to him.

"It's my period, I get it every month. It's normal so there's nothing to worry about." You explained carefully. "I mean, the only thing you'd have to worry about would be my mood swings." You joked with a giggle. Michael only blinked at you, you didn't know if he understood, maybe he didn't care.

Then, he gave you a subtle nod, one you almost missed if you hadn't been staring at him. You assumed he got what you said, so you left it at that.

Thomas

Thomas shook you awake in the middle of the night, his concern evident. Groggy and disoriented, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, mumbling some indistinct words of annoyance.

"What's wrong, Tommy?" You asked as you shivered, noticing how cold it suddenly was. Oh, the blanket had been pulled off.

Thomas pointed to your legs, and you noticed a small blood stain underneath of you. You quickly realized that as your period. Thomas appeared slightly unsettled, leading you to wonder if Luda Mae had ever discussed periods with him. Before you could clarify, he began examining your body for any signs of injury, which made you chuckle. You found his concern adorable.

"Thomas, i'm okay. It's just my period, it's something that females get every month. it's nothing bad." You clarified, a faint smile resting on your lips. Thomas stopped checking your body, giving you a confused look.

"I promise. It doesn't even hurt me. Well… kind of but it's not that serious." You hoped you weren't making Thomas more confused than he already was, but when he stopped furrowing his brows you assumed he understood what you were explaining to him. YA sigh escaped your lips as the reality set in: you needed to change out of your stained pajamas and replace the bedsheet. You longed to have slept in and postponed this chore until morning, yet you couldn't fault Thomas for his concern about your wellbeing. He prepared a swift shower for you to freshen up while he took care of the bedding. Once the chores were done, he made sure you had a restful night, holding you tightly against his chest until the early hours of dawn.

Vincent

You went to bed after Vincent mentioned he would be up a little later, immersed in his work on wax sculptures. This was a frequent situation, even though you often encouraged him to join you, insisting that he needed and deserved the rest. While you wholeheartedly supported Vincent in his pursuits, it always troubled you when he sacrificed sleep for his art.

You had woken up to the sound of shuffling, probably Vincent finally coming to bed. You didn't know what time it was, but you couldn't even be bothered to open your eyes to check. You felt a gentle nudge, Vincent's way of telling you to scoot over so he could get into bed as well. You grumbled before eventually scooting to the other side of the bed, you waited to feel the bed dip, indicating he laid down. But it never came.

Instead, Vincent was shaking you awake, it seemed urgent.

"Hm? Is something wrong Vinc?" You mumbled into the pillow, looking at him through an eye. In the dark, you could barely make out him signing to you.

"What?" You finally moved your face to fully look at him, worried by his seemingly panicked signing.

'You're bleeding. What happened?'

"I'm bleeding? What do you mean?" You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was talking about. You hadn't been around any sharp objects recently, and you didn't have any old wounds that could be reopened. Vincent then gestured to the bed, you sat up and realized what happened. Where you laid previously had a blood stain on the sheets, you already knew your pants would be stained too.

"Awh… I got my period." You frowned, huffing from your nose. Your least favorite time of the month. You felt bad for staining Vincent's sheets, making a mental promise to yourself that you'd get it out tomorrow morning.

'Period?' He signed, tilting his head. He still seemed worried about you, you could see it in his body language by the way he leaned toward you and slightly reached his hands out to you. You knew he wanted to check you for any wounds, something he did quite often because you were very clumsy and often got scrapes and cuts, which he would patch up for you.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just something girls get every month. I get cramps and whatnot. Sorry for staining your sheets."

'Cramps? Anything else?'

"Uhhh, food cravings, mood swings." You shrugged, starting to scooch off the bed. Vincent took your hand and helped you up, then started leading you toward the bathroom. "Where are we going?"

He didn't respond as he released your hand and knelt beside the bathtub, turning on the water and testing its warmth with his fingers. You had always known Vincent to be thoughtful, consistently showing you kindness and tenderness. However, you never anticipated him starting a bath for you in the middle of the night.

"Oh, Vincent, you didn't have to." You smiled warmly at the gesture, feeling grateful to have a significant other like him.

a/n: dont even worry about that lol, i did consider it for a minute but i fear i would not be good at writing that kind of stuff. anyways, i like to think pennywise is just a freak, this was a little self indulgent, especially about the biting... maybe im the freak. idk. im gonna write more for him tho.

i think we all know that dating pennywise would be a rollercoaster. cosmic entity who eats children and loves the taste of fear? love is the last thing he would think about.

hes been around for ages to know what it is, to have seen it with his own eyes. such a monster like him would never be capable of feeling that way. until… you came along.

his own feelings scared him, fear being something he never felt before. he wanted you see you as just another person, just another meal. but he couldn't bring himself to sink his razor teeth into you, despite trying, despite how tasty your fear was when he unhinged his jaw like no other animal could and almost bit your head off.

pennywise is dangerously protective of you, possessive even. he keeps an eye on you any second he can, interfering when someone gets too close to you. if a coworker is laughing at your jokes a little too loudly, something will coincidentally fall off the shelf next to them to cause a momentary distraction.

you watch as they bend down to pick the item up, and take quick notice of the ominous red balloon behind them. you knew not to fuck with pennywise, if he was giving you a warning you would listen. his jealousy was unlike anything you have ever seen. you could feel his presence whenever you were out, it made you have to check over your shoulder just to make sure he wasnt in broad daylight following you. you knew he wouldnt, but he did follow you secretly, and would make it known in the most subtle ways. a poster with a clown on it, holding a red balloon. or you would feel the ghost of someones hand on your wrist. not to mention how heavy the air felt when he was around, almost suffocating. and people would give you a sideways look, as if they could see the evilness that trailed behind you everywhere you went.

he is not a gentle being by any means, he is a monster and he only knows how to hurt. you wouldn't label your relationship as abusive, but it was a classic prey and predator dynamic. he was intimidating and off-putting, but you still loved him.

hes touchy, but not in the way you would like. hes rough, he grips your wrists with his claws threatening to dig into your skin. he likes to bite, but its not love bites like you would have hoped. his teeth, needle sharp and in rows would sink into your flesh, and shortly after you would feel the warm, wet sensation of his tongue licking your blood. hes also not a kisser, which was unfortunate for you since you were dying to feel how soft his painted lips were and get a taste of him…. he probably tasted like death itself. whenever you would bring up the idea, he would look clueless and tell you he didnt understand the point of it.

you were littered in bite marks, ranging in size and severity. it was hard to cover them up, but you knew that's exactly what pennywise wanted. he wanted people to know you were his, that you belonged to someone. he was an animal, and he was going to mark his territory like one.

as if his bites weren't enough, your boundaries were non existent. his large hands would snake their way around your waist, gripping onto you possessively. although there was no one around to see you two, he still made it a thing to 'show' that you were his. his hands were all over you, cupping your face, gripping your thigh or waist, occasionally he would lick you,, which was gross at first. another gross thing was his drool, that was hard to get used to. though, there was fleeting moments that stuck out to you. sometimes you would take a nap in his embrace, it was rare, since he also didnt understand the point of cuddling. but when you had rough days all you wanted to do was lay in his arms and fall asleep. despite him not being human, he was warm, and he would smell of cotton candy and other carnival foods, though you knew he made himself smell that way on purpose. you also knew that he would breathe just to make you more comfortable. his chest would rise and fall like any other person, his breath fanning the top of your head. his arms would be snug around you and pulling you flush against him. these were the only times he was 'gentle', if you could even put it that way.

and don't think his usual attitude let up, he still loved scaring you. after a long shift at work, you were exhausted, hungry, just wanting to crawl into bed. but he would be there, fucking with you. making you see figures in the darkest parts of the room, or knocking something over. you would be thankful they were subtle scares, but he would throw a jump scare in your face every so often.

he also was, surprisingly, a gift giver. however, since he was a clown, they were often circus themed. you found it cute, though. he would give you candy, or pull out popcorn from thin air. aside from carnival food, he would give you carnival plushies. it made you laugh, usually these little stuffed animals would only be in your grasp maybe once every year, we all know carnival games are rigged to hell and back.

the most special gift he has given you is a little music box. wooden, with cute balloon engravings on the sides and on the top it adorned the same logo that was on his circus wagon. it sang a cute tune, one you have grown to love. youll let it play while doing mundane tasks around the house, cleaning, cooking, or simply getting ready for bed.

a/n: hi love, im so sorry for how painfully short and lacking this is. i have not written for months and my creative flow is like nonexistent... :( but as always i appreciate the request <3 hopefully ill post something better soon

Call me Babydoll ~

Michael

Michael fails to understand your quirky obsession with those dolls he perceives as creepy. To him, they appear to do nothing but gather dust, occupy space, and waste money.

You’d often see him just standing there, gazing at your dolls, head slightly tilted. It seemed like he was curious, but whenever you tried to share what you liked about them, he’d lose interest and walk away before you could really say much. You wouldn’t really say it bothered you, but deep down, it felt a bit disappointing. Michael is who he is, he doesn’t care about a lot. You figured you were lucky he even cared about you.

It took you some time to realize it, but the shelves where your dolls belonged stayed pristine despite your lack of cleaning for weeks. It clicked in your head immediately who was behind this, it warmed your heart to see Michael somewhat caring for something that meant a lot to you. He doesn't care to hear about them, he knows you like them and that's all he needs to know. He stays away from them despite when he sneaks inside in the middle of the night and cleans the shelves to the best of his abilities, Michael is not a clean man but he does his best.

Vincent

Vincent is incredibly accepting and deeply understanding of your unique collection, showing a genuine appreciation for the things you treasure, even when others might not see their true value. He loves to see the smile on your face when you bring a new one home, and helps you pick out a spot for it. Hes very careful if he ever handles your dolls, he knows they are fragile and not easy to come by.

If hes ever out by himself and comes across one he will bring it home to show you, proud of himself and only hoping his gift will make you smile.

During his free time he likes to rearrange them, though he would never admit it, he has a perfectionist side that compels him to keep things straight on the shelves. You found it quite adorable when you'd come home and find your dolls arranged neatly and perfectly on their shelf.

He does ask you about them, and listens carefully when you rant on and on about them, adoration glinting in his eyes. He loves hearing you talk, and loves how excited you become over something you're passionate about. Not to mention he finds your collection absolutely adorable and thinks you have great taste.

Bo

He’s more upfront regarding your affection for porcelain dolls, openly admitting his lack of understanding and clearly stating he wants them nowhere near his belongings. It stings, but he doesn't care to apologize. However, on a sunny afternoon, after shopping, you find him assembling a large bookshelf in your shared bedroom, sweat gathering on his brow.

When you asked about it, his only answer was 'its for you.'

Bo had a unique way of showing affection and care. He struggled with verbal expression and wasn't fond of physical contact. Often, he would say one thing but the next his actions contradict his words. He showed his love through acts of service, starting with the bookshelf that was clearly meant for your dolls.

Next, you'd find flowers placed next to them, a note that says 'with love.' in one of the dolls lap. Bo might secretly hate your collection, not understand it, hate having them in his space, but he loves you too much to tell you no. And, he knows he should be supportive of you. Occasionally he will ask you if you need more space for them, or ask innocent questions about how your love for them started. He wont admit that he has more questions he wants to ask, mostly curious about your life and interests rather than the dolls themselves.

how about a summer day with him? we always read about what it’s like during the fall and even winter, but not much of hot summer days. would he go swimming with reader? would he like to go on hikes? anything summer related lol.

it’s so beautiful outside today and it made me think about it.

A/N: hihi love, thank you so much for this request. wow its been way too long since its written for michael and im way out of my element so excuse this for being short and lacking, i do want to work on something more later on but im starting slow for now. anyways i hope you enjoy!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 .ᐟ.ᐟ

Michael isn't very fond of summer, it’s too hot and makes it very uncomfortable to wear his mask and mechanics suit. you wont find him outside for long, he would only step out to feel the sun beam down on him, but once he gets too warm, he steps back into the cool air of your home. he would go out more when the sun sets and it cools down some, but even then some nights its just a little too warm for him.

Michael would become very bored during summer since he doesn’t go out much, which in turn leads to him annoying you. he would wait around corners to scare you, or simply spend too long staring at you from across the room as if he wanted something, but when you asked he would walk away.

When you propose the idea of going out for a hike or a swim in a secluded lake, he stares at you. He almost considers it, out of boredom, but ultimately walks away to let the idea roll around in his head. He isn’t much of a trip guy, he usually stays in town and doesn’t stray too far since it’s home and he’s familiar with its layout.

Michael thinks a hike is pointless, walking through the forest on a hot day for no apparent reason and getting sweaty. He did enjoy summer when he was a kid, although he faintly remembers the summers he had. He did enjoy being outside and soaking up the sun, but as you get older, it becomes hotter and less enjoyable.

He isn't sure about a swim either. Sure, he would watch you go for a swim, but I doubt he would be stepping into the water himself. He isn’t picky about activities, per se, he just thinks in black and white about them. If it doesn’t benefit him in some way, he probably won’t do it.

A picnic he may be able to get behind, but it’s in your backyard, sitting on an old blanket as you bring out lunch and a dessert. He would stand at the edge of the blanket for longer than necessary before sitting down, legs straight out and back slightly hunched.

While hes comfortable around you and has taken off his mask before, he only lifts it up to his nose to eat. its not the most efficient, but it will do. Surprisingly, he enjoys the picnic. sitting outside on a nice day where its not humid and there’s a slight breeze in the air. The sun feels warm on michaels mask and reminds him fondly of how your warm hands would hold his face in private.

Overall, Michael is split on whether he likes summer. He enjoys the nice days, and despises the hotter days where he steps outside and it’s a wave of heat that suffocates him. he also loves eating cold treats during summer, whether it be ice cream, a snow cone, or simply having a cold drink. he’s pretty basic when it comes to his ice cream, preferring vanilla over other flavors as its not too sugary like chocolate.

a/n: didnt have too many ideas on this one, funnily enough this was sent in when i was tipsy and i started writing it before knocking out lol. sorry this is short, im working on a couple different things while also taking requests because im trying so hard to get out of writing block.

since pennywise loves invoking fear into others, i feel he wouldnt take your giggly state all too well. id imagine he gets frustrated when hes trying to scare you but youre high out of your mind and cant stop laughing at him. he would be trying every trick in the book while you sat there, grin on your face as you stifled your laughs.

a few times, though, he was able to spook you, and he took these as a major victory. not sure about his ego, but when he would be putting on his normal clown act, and you found it utterly hilarious, he felt some sort of pride in himself.

now, a big part of the reason you and him even came to be a thing was because you smoked so often. it was difficult to scare you when you were in such a state of mind, he took it as a challenge. it actually created a bond between you two.

one day, while you were hanging out with him, joint between your fingers. you decided to hand it to him, and he stared, clueless. you urged him to try it, and he did. you still werent sure how everything worked with him, but when he commented on the taste you couldnt help but laugh. you quickly learned that drugs and alcohol had no affect on him, which was a shame given how you had to have the fun all by yourself.

Myers with a clingy s/o

Note: ive never done posts in this kind of format, i usually write full on oneshots so this is very different for me. im sorry if its short or lacking

Michael would probably be confused at first, doesn't understand why you constantly want to be around him.

He isn't used to physical affection, so don't expect him to reciprocate. He would push you away at first.

Eventually he will get used to you always hugging him, and will only give you a half hug back. Physical affection isn't his strong suit and he isn't used to it.

Michael is usually the one who follows people around, so when you always end up places he is and you're trailing behind him with a look of curiosity in your eye, there is probably just the smallest blush beneath that horrifying mask, you're either very brave or just stupid for keeping so close to a man who has committed several murders. Either way, he's flattered that you seem to like being around him so much.

If you try to follow him when he goes out he will give you a stern stare and push you back into the house. You're not allowed to follow him when he goes on his sprees. His way of protecting you.

On the rare occasion he sits on the couch with you he will let you lean on him or rest your head in his lap. A lot of the affection is one sided and he doesn't show any discomfort nor like towards your clinginess. He's neutral about it and lets you do what makes you happy.

Overall he is chill, but confused and maybe a little charmed, even though he won't show it.

Slashers comforting you after a nightmare

Note: thank you for the requests, my most loyal costumer. i kind of stared at a blank doc for a few hours before i finally was able to write this lol, anyway, i hope you enjoy!!

Michael

Your body jolted awake, your eyes wide as you took in the shadows of the ceiling above. Another nightmare had gripped you in a panic in the dead of night, a tormenting pattern that had persisted for the past week. With trembling fingers, you reached out to the space beside you, yearning for the comforting presence of your boyfriend, as you often did in times of distress.

A wave of dread washed over you as you realized he was gone. You shot up in bed, yanking the covers aside as if hoping he would suddenly appear. The last thing you needed was for Michael to be missing. Your mind was clouded by the remnants of deep sleep, leaving you unsettled and disoriented.

You climbed out of bed and descended the stairs, moving through the darkened house with surprising familiarity. Perhaps Michael was in the living room, unable to sleep and watching television, but a quick search revealed he was nowhere to be found. Panic gripped you, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Where could he be? You peeked into the kitchen, casting a glance at the oven clock. It read 2:36 AM.

You approached your back door and cautiously opened it, peering out at the woods that framed your home. Straining your eyes, you searched for that hauntingly familiar white mask, which brought you an unexpected sense of comfort. But he was nowhere to be found. With a resigned sigh, you closed the door and settled onto the couch, curling your knees to your chest. Despite your efforts to relax, your heart raced uncontrollably as you fixed your gaze on the back door, anxiously waiting for Michael's return. A troubling thought flickered through your mind: had he abandoned you, or worse, had he finally been caught by the police?

You lost track of time, perhaps succumbing to sleep, when a hand gently shook you awake. Pain throbbed in your neck and back as you slowly lifted your gaze, only to find Michael's white mask, now marked with fresh blood splatters. A wave of relief washed over you. In the air, you detected a faint metallic scent.

"Where were you?" You asked quietly, the memories of your nightmare coming back and causing tears to brim your eyes.

Michael tilted his head, unable to make out your face in the dim light. He pondered why you were sleeping in such an awkward position, particularly in the living room. With a flick of his wrist, he raised his knife, gesturing toward it.

You let out a quiet 'Oh', sniffling before stretching your limbs and standing up. "I was scared and worried… I had a bad dream and when I woke up and you weren't here, I didn't know what to think, I thought maybe you had gotten caught."

You longed to gaze into Michael's eyes at this moment, as glimpses of his face were rare. His eyes held the key to understanding his expressions and emotions, yet all you could see were empty voids.

You heard the knife clatter onto the table beside the couch—Michael had placed it down. Moments later, you felt his other hand rest firmly on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, a gesture he often used to comfort you. A long sigh escaped your lips. In his presence, a sense of calm washed over you, which felt strange given his past. Despite knowing what he was capable of, you never felt fear around him. You were patient and showed him a kindness that no one else dared to offer. In return, he spared your life, and from that fragile foundation, a romantic connection began to flourish between you two.

Michael's hand glided down your arm, igniting goosebumps along the way, until he found your hand and held it delicately. You noticed something slick on his palm—likely blood—but chose to brush it aside. With a soft squeeze, you embraced his warmth as he began to lead you back upstairs and toward your room.

Bo

Waking in the dead of night from a jarring nightmare left you shaken, your heart racing and beads of sweat trickling down your forehead. As you turned to share your distress with Bo, you realized he was not in bed. A wave of panic washed over you, but you quickly reassured yourself that he was likely just downstairs tending to something.

The stairs groaned under your steps as you strained to see through the darkness. You moved from room to room, desperately looking for Bo, but he was nowhere to be found. A wave of panic began to wash over you. Grabbing a jacket, you stepped through the front door and ventured out into the dimly lit streets of Ambrose, determined to find your beloved.

The biting cold of tonight prompted you to wrap your arms tightly around yourself for warmth. While nightmares were a rarity for you, when they did strike, you would rouse Bo, sharing your fears with him. In response, he would envelop you in a comforting embrace, ensuring you felt secure until you drifted back to sleep. Bo never abandoned you in the dead of night, so his absence triggered a wave of panic. Assuming he was at the gas station, you set off in that direction without hesitation.

To your surprise, the door was securely locked. After knocking and waiting for a few minutes, you finally spotted Bo approaching to unlock it. Confusion was evident on his face as he laid eyes on you.

"Somethin' the matter Doll?" His arm was quick to wrap around your waist and guide you inside. The last thing he expected was for you to wake up in the middle of the night while he was taking care of 'business'.

"Just another nightmare. I woke up and you weren't there." You responded with a slight shake in your voice, turning toward him.

"Oh, darlin'." He looked at you with sympathy before pulling you against him, one arm rubbing circles on your back and the other cradling your head. The warmth of his body and firm embrace was enough to make you relax against him, your mind being put at ease.

Thomas

You had spent the night nestled in Thomas's embrace, but upon waking from a restless dream, you discovered yourself alone in his bed. A frown creased your brow as you turned your gaze to the window, where a soft light filtered through the curtains, hinting that it was still the early hours of the morning.

You cocooned yourself in the blanket and stepped out of the bedroom, making your way downstairs in search of your lover. You entertained the thought that he might have risen early to prepare breakfast, but the kitchen was empty.

You found Luda Mae in the living room, and you decided you'd ask her where Thomas was.

"He should be downstairs, sweetheart," she replied with a warm smile. Luda Mae had a way of making everyone feel cared for; she always ensured you were well-fed and comfortable. She truly felt like a second mother to you.

YYou smiled back before beginning your descent to the basement. Pausing at the top of the stairs, you hesitated, contemplating whether to call out to him or brave the darkened stairs. The basement was rarely a destination for you; whenever you did venture down, you typically kept your eyes tightly shut. The thought of confronting whatever lay below was daunting, and the last thing you wanted was to encounter something utterly terrifying.

You slowly descended the stairs, keeping your gaze at your feet until you reached the bottom step. "Thomas?"

A sudden clatter broke the silence, followed by the sound of shuffling. Thomas’ legs appeared in your line of sight, and his hands gently gripped your upper arms. Summoning your strength, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, determined to avoid looking past him at whatever lay on his table.

You swallowed. "I had a bad dream."

He soothingly rubbed his hands along your arms before guiding you back upstairs. Thomas was uncertain about how to offer comfort; having experienced his share of nightmares, he’d never had anyone to turn to for solace. He hadn’t anticipated your appearance downstairs and felt relieved you hadn’t witnessed what he was doing. With his arm still around you, he led you into his room and gently urged you to lie down on the bed, a silent invitation to rest. You weren't entirely sure what to expect; you figured he might simply give you a hug and leave it at that. A hug would have been enough. Instead, Thomas settled beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest. You felt his soft kiss on the top of your head. Was he encouraging you to drift back to sleep?

Can you do him with an s/o that is the very definition of ‘girly’ and hyper feminine (constantly wears pink, frilly clothing, hair and makeup is always done, etc.) and just adores him? Like, even knowing everything about him and his past, she basically acts like he’s the sweetest thing ever

˖ ֹ੭୧ Soldier Boy with a girly S/O! ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

Note: hihi, thank you for all the requests haha, i absolutely love every single one! soldier boy is a softie here, i hope this is up to your expectations :)!

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ At first, Soldier Boy couldn't quite grasp your essence, your style and personality stood out starkly from everyone else's. Your pink outfits, adorable makeup that made you look like a porcelain doll, and your perfectly styled hair captivated him daily. He found it impossible to think of anything else. You were distinct, and he appreciated that. Although your bubbly attitude and perpetual cheeriness could get on his nerves at times, he welcomed it because your smile was something he never wanted to fade.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ Soldier boy tried to hide his past from you, reluctant to reveal the circumstances that shaped him into who he became. With you, he yearned to be his best version— a stark departure from his usual attitude, because he was quite okay with the way he was. He didn't care if people thought he was a raging asshole, or a jerk, they could suck it up. But, eventually, he let you in. He was vulnerable. He was showing you a softer layer. You knew you would probably never get another moment like this, you were gentle with him, you listened intently to what he told you about his past. You were nothing but the sweetest with him and treating him with the upmost care, something he hadn't received in a long time. He would show you his appreciation through affectionate gestures, peppering kisses on your jawline, carefully fixing your hair if even one strand was tousled. He knew he didn't deserve such a kind soul like yours, he was so afraid of screwing up. However, any time he did, you forgave him-- a sweet smile spread across your rosy lips, your kind eyes gazing lovingly into his. He would've thought he was the best man on earth, no flaws, no fuck ups, he would've thought he was perfect from the way you treated him.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ He did horrible things, and you did think he could be a jerk, but he was charming in his own way. Whenever you wore a short, ruffled dress around him you were entering dangerous territory, his gaze lingering on your thighs as you wore thigh high socks that adorned bows, or his large hands squeezing your waist as he pulled you against him. He was not ashamed to tell you how stunning and beautiful you were, or show the world that you were his. He would encourage you to give him personalized fashion shows, instructing you to twirl for him after each dress you would try on or outfit you put together. He would shamelessly stare, taking in every inch of your body, appreciating how your style complimented you immaculately.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ He would gladly let you adorn his hair with bows or tie ribbons around his arms, caring only about your happiness. But it came with a price. In return, he would pull you in for passionate, fervent kisses, leaving traces of smeared lipstick on his lips, which he welcomed. One hand would weave through your hair, giving a playful tug, while the other rested on your lower back, drawing you nearer.