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#not too rude but like…. just a little….
sweetestdesire · 2 days
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SO DAMN NEEDY
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.
Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.
"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."
"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.
“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.
“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”
“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”
“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”
“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.
It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.
Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.
“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."
"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.
"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.
"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."
"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.
"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”
“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.
“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.
“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”
“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.
There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.
“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.
“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”
“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.
“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”
“Hardly.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”
“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”
“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.
“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”
“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.
“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.
“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.
“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.
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lynnielovestlou · 3 days
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so... abby with a girlfriend who suffers from migraines and chronic pain daily and sometimes ends up being rude and then becomes tearful and sad for having been rude to her for something that is not her fault
masterlist
you've been at it for thirty minutes, rubbing your temples in an attempt to massage away the migraine that's torturing your poor brain.
you've had these ever since high school. such intense migraines that were near impossible to escape. sometimes they would get so bad that you would throw up. abby knew of your problems, and she knew how to deal with them.
"do you need some pain meds?" abby asks you sweetly as she's rubbing your back in large, thick circles.
her voice alone pissed you off. god, was it so hard to ask for a little bit of silence.
you grumble in response, "already took some."
"what about water? you been drinking water?"
an irritated sigh escapes your lips and you close your eyes, leaning away from her warm hand to lay your head pathetically on a couch pillow, "yes, abby."
she could hear the tone of voice. you were obviously annoyed, but she knew it wasn't your fault. she knew how daunting these headaches could get, so she didn't blame you for being snippy.
"sweetheart, i'm just trying to help–"
"please just stop talking!" the way you'd raised your voice at her felt like a harsh punch in the chest, her face dropping and a sudden sinking feeling taking over her stomach. neither of you have yelled at each other, no matter the circumstance. so the look you saw on her face filled you with such guilt, "abs, i'm sorry, i- i didn't mean it."
"it's okay, sweet girl. c'mere." she beckons you over, waving her fingers.
you climb into her lap, resting your heavy head on her shoulder. tears had begun to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. she heard your little sniffles and hiccups.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to yell." you apologize profusely, but she clicks her tongue in response.
"it's okay, baby. i know you're in a bad mood because you don't feel good. that's no reason to apologize." she resumes rubbing your back, her warmth that you had willingly abandoned earlier comforting you beyond belief, "i love you."
your voice a mere whisper, you respond, "i love you too."
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How would the Bad sanses feel about kids?
Horror isn't a fan of how children have a habit of immediately bursting into terrified tears when they look at him. Kinda rude. He copes by deliberately scaring them; if a kid looks at him he pulls his scariest face. Might even say "boo" just for effect. Deep down, though, he does like kids - before it all went wrong in the Underground he used to dream about being an uncle to Papyrus' future children. When he's around you, he catches himself thinking about it... his own kids would like his face just the way it was, wouldn't they? So long as he was a good dad, it wouldn't matter what he looked like. That sounds so wonderful.
If he somehow finds a kid who isn't frightened of him, he will go full papa bear mode. Horror's the most likely of the bad guys to find a lost child and scoop them up.
Dust... avoids children like the plague. He shares Horror's habit of deliberately scaring them. He has a lot of reasons. He's a dangerous mass murderer, that's one; he also doesn't do great with noise. The sound of a crying or shouting child grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the fact that he's had enough of dealing with childish behaviour after a few hours around Killer.
... He also doesn't like being reminded of all the kids that used to live in his Underground. He doesn't like looking at little faces and remembering how Papyrus used to smile at him, the big brother who was supposed to keep him safe, the exact same way. The thing about having high LV is you get very used to being numb... those stabs of emotion, when they do get through, are too much.
He likes seeing you interact with kids, though. You're much better than he is, softer and kinder. Makes him think about what could've been.
Killer is great with kids. He's exciting, he's funny, he's got endless energy. He perfectly channels the 'fun uncle who clearly wants kids and would be an amazing dad', and the presence of children grounds him, taking the edge off of his worse traits and continuously pulling him down to reality. But he's also a terrible influence when left unattended. Give him an hour, and he'll be showing them how to properly hold a knife, telling them how crime isn't really that bad, and that they should totally just bite their bully as hard as they possibly can.
If a child lets him pick them up, Killer will constantly be trying to catch your eye. His huge grin speaks volumes; so when are WE gonna make our own one of these?
Nightmare says he doesn't like children. He definitely acts like it, too, he's cold and intimidating. But deep down, he's always wanted kids of his own - and he's bitter, because before he was corrupted he used to be really good with kids. Dream was (and still is) better at entertaining children but Nightmare could comfort the introverts; shy kids who cried around Dream would happily fall asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Not anymore.
The thing is... when kids are around him for a while, you'll start to see hints of something underneath the grump. You'll notice he never raises his voice. You'll hear how his tone slips into something stern, yet calm. You'll see the 'strict but fair' edge to his sockets and mouth, you'll notice how despite all the talk of not caring his tentacles will ALWAYS catch anyone whose tiny feet are unsteady. There's a dad under there.
He's in no place for kids right now. But he does think about it - when you're around he thinks far more than he'd ever admit. He imagines giving someone the childhood he never had. If only.
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say-al0e · 1 day
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Hypothetical
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Rating: PG-13
Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k
“Would you fuck my clone?”
The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.
Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”
“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”
A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”
With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”
“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”
From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”
Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.
A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”
There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.
Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.
That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.
“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”
“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”
“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”
Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”
With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”
“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”
That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.
Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”
There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”
When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”
Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”
“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”
This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”
For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.
The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.
Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”
Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”
Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.
So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”
Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”
“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”
“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”
“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.” 
The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.
Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”
“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.
“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”
There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”
“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.
“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”
Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”
Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”
“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”
“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”
“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”
“Eddie.”
Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.
That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”
“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”
“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”
“Everything.”
Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.
However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted. 
The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.
For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.
“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.
“Can you promise me something?”
Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”
“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”
“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.
The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.
There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.
So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.
No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you. 
________________________________________________________
Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.
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sassypossumm · 2 days
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Is The Tooth Fairy A Rat?
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We LOVE Dad!Miguel, especially when he's standing up to snobby principles and school counselors.... just a little fluffy comedy from our fave dad....
"Babe, please don't apologize, the multiverse waits for no man and all that jazz." Glancing up you saw the principle standing in the doorway of her office, arms folded. "I love you too." Turning off your phone, you stuffed it into your purse. Just as you stepped towards her office, and hand on your arm caused you to cry out in surprise. Turning you came face to face with none other than your husband.
"Did I miss anything?" He chuckled, eyes flashing with mischief. Narrowing your own, you patted your chest and frowned up at him. 
"I thought you couldn't make it." The smile slipped from Miguel's face, replaced by sheer sincerity. 
"This was more important." 
Glancing over your shoulder, you winced at the impatient stance of the principle. 
"Please be on your best behavior." You whispered, straightening his tie. A sly grin spread slowly across Miguel's face, and he raised a brow. 
"When am I not, mi vida?" Shaking your head, you gently grasped his arm and tugged him towards the principal's office. With a tight smile, she ushered you into the small space and closed the door. You were immediately caught off guard by the presence of a second woman who was already seated in a chair, sifting through a manilla folder. Sitting in one of the chairs opposite her desk, you wound your hands together in your lap. 
"Mrs. O'Hara, Mr. O'Hara, thank you for agreeing to meet with me." She folded her hands on the desk and turned from you to Miguel with a crisp smile. Not missing a beat, she continued. "Do you know why I requested to speak with you two?"
"Honestly, Mrs. Meyers, I think I speak for the both of us when I say, no." You glanced at Miguel, and he nodded, not turning his eyes off of Mrs. Meyers. She pulled out a pair of glasses and slid them up the bridge of her nose before reaching for a notebook. 
"Well, as Gabi's parents, we thought it pertinent to bring our concerns to you." You bristled at that. Almost unperceptively Miguel slipped you his hand. Lacing your fingers through his, you clenched your jaw and squeezed the long capable fingers in your grasp. 
"Concerns?" Miguel narrowed his eyes at Mrs. Meyers. 
"Yes." She continued without looking up. If she had, she might have noticed that her words were placing her on thin ice with your husband. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara, you have a bright daughter." You gave Miguel a warm smile. "However," The smile slipped and you turned your eyes back onto the woman. 
"However?" You leaned forward. 
"Mrs. O'Hara, I don't know any other way to put this," She paused to lower her glasses a fraction before looking at you intently. " But have you considered having your daughter tested?" 
"Tested for what exactly?" Miguel was the one to pull his hand free of yours. Not a good sign. Mrs. Meyers wasn't phased in the slightest. 
"Gabi has been exhibiting some rather concerning behaviors." She removed her glasses and leaned forward with a sympathetic smile. Your eyes flit to the woman in the corner who was now looking up at you with a similar expression. It was as if you'd had a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. Mrs. Meyers noticed your attention stray to the woman. 
"This is Dr. Childers, she's our school counselor." 
"Mrs. O'Hara," She gave you a bright smile and stood to reach for your hand. Stiffening, you turned back to Mrs. Meyers and cleared your throat. 
"I don't mean to be rude, but I'd like to know exactly what you consider 'concerning behaviors' to be." Dr. Childers' smile melted off her face and she retreated back to her seat. Mrs. Meyers gave you a stiff smile and opened her notebook. 
"Certainly, Mrs. O'Hara." She flipped through the book, stopping on a page and ran her finger down the page. "As a matter of fact, there was an incident recently." She glanced up and looked from you to Gabi. Neither of you looked impressed. Clearing her throat, she continued. "As of last week, it seems that Gabi has been telling her classmates that the tooth fairy is a... giant sewer rat in a tutu." Miguel's brows raised and you snorted. Mrs. Meyers colored and turned to the next page revealing a rather inspired drawing by your daughter. Pulling the page free she slid it across the desktop.  "She went on to draw this, she said it was meant to express how the... tooth mafia operates." 
Reaching for the picture you groaned. Gabi had indeed drawn a detailed depiction of a large rat in a tutu throttling some poor stick figure. Mrs. Meyers cleared her throat and pulled at her collar. 
"It seems this poor soul didn't want to... give up his teeth." Mrs. Meyers cleared her throat and pulled at her collar. Passing the picture to Miguel you covered your mouth to smother a laugh. 
"Peter." Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Mr. O'Hara, Mrs. O'Hara, I hope you realize that this isn't a laughing matter." Mrs. Meyers sputtered, reaching to pull back the picture. Beating her to it, you snatched back the drawing and stuffed it into your purse. 
"Of course not, Mrs. Meyers, but I hardly think this was worth wasting the school councilors' time," 
"Oh, on the contrary, Mrs. O'Hara." Mrs. Childers cut you off, leaning forward in her chair. "Displays such as this, especially when disturbing in nature can often," 
"Disturbing?" Miguel cut in, glaring up at the woman over his hand. Mrs. Childers flinched. "Tell me, Dr. Childers, is it not true that most parents are still trying to convince their children that an ancient tiny chubby man flies through the sky with his reindeer once a year to bring gifts to the good children?" His eyes darkened and she shrank back into her chair, closing her folder. You quietly laced your fingers through his. Miguel gently squeezed your hands and turned hardened eyes on Mrs. Meyers. "And tell me, Educator Meyers, did you call the parents of the stellar scholar I saw sitting in the administrative office several minutes ago? I'm sure his parents would appreciate being told how disturbing their child is for having a marble stuck up his nose." Narrowing his eyes, he stood and stormed out of the office, you in tow. You jogged to keep step with Miguel until you reached your car. After opening the door for you, he sat in the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. You sat in silence for several minutes just letting him fume, and if you were honest, you were still fuming. 
"If we weren't in an elementary school parking lot, I'd kiss you till your ears pop, O'Hara." You turned to look at your husband. Unclenching his jaw, Miguel turned to look at you with a raised brow. 
"Oh really?" He smirked. 
"Oh yeah." You turned fully to face him.
"And why is that mi tesoro?" He mirrored your position and leaned forward. 
"That was probably the hottest thing I've ever seen." You grinned and ran your fingers through his hair. "Seeing you get all defensive and protective, hm, it does things to me." 
"Eres una tempera ." Miguel shifted his pants and groaned. 
"You love it though." Biting your lip, you winked and started the car. 
"I am going to kill Peter." Miguel grumbled, turning to look out the window. 
"That picture is totally going on our fridge." You chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot. 
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chosodarling · 2 days
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Dating Laios Touden Headcanons
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a/n: oh the little guy..... i love him very much. also, i considered doing one of the sillier gifs of him, but i decided against it.
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this guy's very, very sweet with you. he doesn't wanna hurt you on accident, and he gets that he can be annoying sometimes. it's always best for you to listen to his rambling, since that's how he feels like hes being listened to.
he loooves talking about monsters with you. if you're not able to go in the dungeon, he definitely brings back some cool stuff for you. this includes monster scales, pelts, horns, teeth, skulls, flowers, et cetera. if you want him to get you something specific, tell him! however, he might come back with a few wagons full of whatever you asked for (and chilchuck will have a very long and agitated conversation with you!)
however, if you are able to go to the dungeon, he's absolutely overjoyed yet scared shitless. what if you get hurt?? or eaten by a dragon??? or turned to stone??? this means that most of the time, you have to specifically tell him you want to fight if thats what you want. however, if you do want to fight, it's like a match made in heaven for him. he's so super happy that he can fight alongside you! plus, he'll teach you the best ways to defeat monsters and practice his skills with you.
he's quite cuddly, too. he hugs you, holds your hand, plays with your hair, lays on you to sleep, etc etc. he just can't ever get enough of you, and always likes to at least be near you! if you're uncomfortable with cuddling, hes okay with sitting with you and talking about monsters and stuff. he's very considerate!
he's probably the type to watch you sleep 💀 not even in a creepy way, he just likes seeing how peaceful you are and listening to the slow beat of your heart.
if you have a favorite monster to eat from, he'll do his best to hunt down a lot of them. may god help the ecosystem, since he just took out half of that monsters population so you can have good food.
it's absolutely imperative that you get along with the rest of the party. mainly falin, sure, but if laios sees you being unnecessarily rude to a member for whatever reason he'll be very put off by it, since these people are important to him.
overall 10/10 very sweet dungeon man
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thank you very much for reading!
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rayshippouuchiha · 4 hours
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MHA Au where Izuku’s quirk let’s him see spirits/monsters but instead of befriending them like usual, he becomes a whole ass monster hunter. I’m talking full on spn salt and burns, illegal fire arms in his backpack, monster journals, etc.
Hmm gonna switch it up a bit but:
Izuku's neighbor is a monster.
Hands fisted tightly in the length of his Mama's skirt, Izuku watches, wide-eyed and trembling, as his Mama chats softly with the thing in the elevator with them.
"Say goodbye to Akuhara-san, Izu-kun," Mama prompts gently.
But all Izuku can do is clutch tighter to her and whimper.
"I-I'm sorry," Mama frets softly as she ushers him out of the elevator. "He's not normally this shy."
"Adorable little thing," the thing called Akuhara croons, voice whispery and soft in a way that makes the hair on the back of Izuku's neck stand on end. "Could just ,,, eat him up."
When Izuku manages to peek around his Mama's leg and look Akuhara-san grins at him with too many teeth, one spindly hand raising to wiggle long gnarled fingers in Izuku's direction.
Izuku squeaks and hides his face again.
But even after he's back in the safety of the apartment he can't help but wonder just how someone with antlers as big as that thing's had been could fit inside the elevator.
~~~ Later, when it's time for bed, Izuku tries to tell his Mama about what he saw.
"Scary," Izuku manages to whimper, remembered terror tracing down his spine.
"Izuku!" Mama gasps, one hand coming up to press against her chest. "What a rude thing to say, young man! I don't want to hear anything like that out of you again, you hear me?"
"Y-Yes," Izuku whispers, unsure of what, exactly, he's done wrong.
The kiss Mama presses to his forehead is a bit shorter than normal.
Sleep is a long time coming for him that night.
~~~
He tries again though, after another run in with the monster.
Tries to tell her about how wrong Akuhara really is.
How that thing, whatever it is, is dangerous.
But ,,,
It doesn't go well.
~~~
Izuku looks at Akuhara and he sees something more than a man, something twisted and wrong, staring back at him.
But the problem is ,,,
Izuku's not the only one looking.
~~~
"I see you, little morsel," Akuhara whispers to Izuku, mouth split wide in a vicious grin as a long, black tongue slides out to flick almost teasingly in Izuku's direction.
Izuku can't help it ,,,
He screams.
~~~
"-ever been more humiliated in my life!" Mama says, hand tight around Izuku's wrist as she drags him into the apartment.
Izuku cowers just a bit when she finally releases him, shoulders hunched and head bowed.
Mama is never really angry with him, not like everyone else, so for Izuku this is just ,,,
Bad.
So much worse than Kacchan or the sensei at school being mean to him. So much worse than anything and everything the other kids have ever said or done to him.
"You will apologize to Akuhara-san," Mama finally huffs, hands planted on her hips and face flushed.
And Izuku ,,,
"No," It's a whisper but in the tense silence of the apartment, it might as well have been a shout.
"What did you say?" Mama blinks, obviously shocked.
He just can't anymore.
He's tried so hard to tell her, to make her see, and she still won't ,,,
"I-I'm not saying s-sorry to that, that thing," Izuku manages to shove the words out. "It's a m-monster. It's ugly and scary and you shouldn-"
The slap catches him off guard.
He yelps, hands flying up to clutch at the familiar throb of his cheek.
He's been hit before, gets hit often really these days, but never here, never at home where he's always been safe, and never by her.
"Y-You can't say things like that," Mama whispers, expression stricken as she clutches the hand she'd hit him with to her chest. "Y-You, Izuku, you can't just," she heaves in a shuddering breath, "just because you don't have a quirk doesn't mean you can say things like that about people who do."
Izuku's hands fall down to his sides as he stares up at her in horror.
And then he turns on his heel and runs to his bedroom.
Inko doesn't follow.
~~~
That night, with the bedroom door locked, his cheek still throbbing, and his chest heaving from the force of his sobs, Izuku tucks himself down in the darkest corner of his closet and cries himself almost sick.
~~~
It's not a quirk.
Izuku knows that.
Whatever it is about Akuhara-san that sets Izuku off so deeply isn't a quirk.
Izuku might only be nine years old and he might be quirkless but he knows quirks.
Whatever Akuhara-san is?
It's not natural.
~~~
Except, as Izuku learns through hours of research, hours of study and computer time when his Mama isn't home, maybe it is.
Maybe whatever it is that's pretending to be a regular man named Akuhara-san is actually very very natural.
And maybe that's not a good thing at all.
~~~
Izuku kills his first monster at 9 years old.
He comes out of the encounter bruised and bloody but alive and satisfied.
Come to find out, no matter how big a Jubokko's branches, not antlers as he'd first thought, are they're still vulnerable to salt and fire just like any other tree.
Inko never looks at him the same, never actually asks the questions Izuku can see lingering in her mouth but, well, she's alive and well and really that's all Izuku wanted in the first place.
~~~
Teeth gritted against the pain and careful of his bandaged arm, Izuku pulls a black-covered notebook from his desk and grabs a fresh pen.
Monster Analysis Vol 1 he scrawls across the front cover before he flips it open.
Akuhara-san might be gone but Izuku refuses to be caught unaware and vulnerable ever again.
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bunnypeew · 1 day
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my sweetheart- Cooper x Fem!reader
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okay so i’ve wanted to write a one shot of The Ghoul cuz he’s so funky I love him!!!! so this is an attempt to writing something that isn’t hazbin hotel heheheh :3c
the surface was something else, and for a vaultie like her it was terrible but she’ve been out and about for at least a decade now so she knew her way around. She had her fair share of partners sure, but finally after years she found the one, the perfect person for her. Coop was a ghoul, a pre war one too and for those 200 years he hadn’t found anyone after Barb, no one at all, but something about her changed his heart forever.
they met during a bounty hunt, long before the Wilzig one,, and they just so happened to bump into each other in Filly, it was definitely not normal to see a ghoul there so she got curious, she said sorry for bumping into him, tucking her hair behind her ear out of slight embarrassment
''Don't worry, I'm not gonna crumble after a slight push,,
he says smirking, lit cigarette in between his lips, takes a puff and looks back at her
''say do you by any chance know where I can find this fella here?,,
he says showing a drawing, of what seems to be a wanted poster, she looks at it carefully only to not recognise the guy and biting the top of her finger looking at the ghoul
“sadly no, but i can help you find him! i’ve had a few bounty hunts in my time,,
she says, kinda proud of herself since she hadn’t been doing that for long, and she thought she was pretty good at it
the ghoul looked her up and down, not in a rude way but it was the fact she was still wearing her vault suit, after years of not being in a vault she was still to attached to it and couldn’t take it off, of course she tweaked it a little bit with patches where holes where and some armour on top so it wasn’t in its original state
“sorry sweetheart but i don’t think a vaultie like you would ever take on of my bounties,,
she seemed a bit taken aback by his sentence but tried not to show it, she strikes a bit of a pose, hand on her hip and the other one takes the poster from his hand, gently of course
“well, try me!,,
the ghoul smirks again, taking a last puff from his cigarette then making it fall on the ground and stomping it with his boots
“sure thing,,
that was the day they met,, and since then they’ve been inseparable.
now in the present they would take bounties together all the time, but now was one of those days where they stayed home, they got a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, near enough vegetation to grow their crops
they were relaxing on their bed, she was playing on her pipboy while he was reading a book, suddenly he plops down his book and looks at her being concentrated on her game, he starts kissing the back of her head with soft little pecks making her shiver a bit but still playing the game
“hun get off your pip boy and come cuddle with me for a lil, huh?,,
he says now kissing her neck, so she decided to turn off the pipboy and give her man attention.
she turns around and gets under his arm cuddling in, then looks him in the eyes
“how lucky i am to have you Coop,,
he chuckled and looked at her kissing her nose
“I think it’s the other way around my sweetheart,,
this is a short one!! but i like it!! WE LOVE THE GHOUL RAAAAAH
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ysrjune · 3 days
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
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pinkaditty · 3 days
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Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)
tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers
hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume. 
a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!
summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words. 
cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.
MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!
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“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”
You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of  a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory. 
Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense. 
However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.
“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”
You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”
Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.” 
You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”
“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does. 
Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened. 
You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”
“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy. 
His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.
You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet. 
“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”
You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.
“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.
“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”
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rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!
a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!
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cevheris · 2 days
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Abby Anderson.
Fucking you on her motorcycle ☺️
tags: no need to sugarcoat anything she eats you out on her motorbike, semi public sex, she's kinda rough with it, dom/sub undertones.
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You were riding on Abby's motorbike, been so needy lately but she was a busy woman, so you weren't able to play around as you'd like. You had missed her touch, the way her muscles would flex when she had her strong hold on your flesh. But now you were alone, well on the road, no less. Your tits behind the flimsy material of the shirt you were wearing pressed against her back as you hold onto her.
Arms wrapped around her lower belly, playing dangerous but it was worth it, traffic safety be damned you were fucking dripping for this woman, head too fuzzy for consequences.
She was taking you to a friends house or whatever, you weren't listening when she told you that, instead you were busy grinding yourself on the seat of the bike like a pathetic little slut, but you pay no mind to such labels anymore. I mean if the shoe fits.
But you weren't completely stupid, obviously, so you wait like a good girl for a red light to strike, your hand drawing closer to her parted thighs once she stops the ride you are onto her.
"Abby-" delicate fingers playing with the material of her pants, near her inner thighs earning a surprised gasp from her. And as if taking that as your cue you press against her further and cup her clothed pussy.
She involuntarily drops her head back, with a heavy whine she spells out "What are you doing-?"
"You know exactly what," you apply pressure with two fingers on where you know her clit to be under those layers.
"Are you out of your mind-" her hips rise a little to gain more friction from your palm involuntarily, you take your hand away just to be a little shit. Making her groan at the lost.
"Maybe i am," but before you can do much else the green light is on and your time is up. She pushes on the engine and you almost fall back with the momentum, barely finding the time to hold back to her. "Whoa- hey- hey" maybe she was the crazy one.
Now you weren't the only one playing said dangerous game, her's were deadly though, nowhere near close to your little teases of cat and mouse. You realize she's changed routes, and her grasp on the handlebar lever a little too strong for the speed limit.
"Wait where are we even-" she cuts you before you can finish.
"We will play what you want, how you want bunny."
Abby pulls near a back alley, without telling you anything she spins you around and you brace yourself against the stone wall of the shady corner, only support being her motorcycle.
"Acting like a cheap whore will only get you so far you know," she gives a little slap at your butt, so rudely "Good thing i'm here, yeah?"
Goddamn, seeing her mean like this was something new, but fuck was it a welcome surprise. You whine then, she presses you further into the wall with your cheeks squashed and her hand on your ass.
Abby's next move was simple, pulling your pants down together with your underwear, bunching at your bent knees, leaving you open on display. The cold air of both the alley and reality of being bare in public, well, semi public but still, was making you drip down hard.
Abby kneels down, presses her face to your cunt, laps at your slick as if honey, only getting you wetter. Eating pussy from behind felt dirtier, cheap.
She spreads your lips to lick deeper into your wet hole, teething on your slick pearly clit. Kissing your puffy lips and playing on your rim, she knew how you liked it best.
Well she also knew she had to keep it short, unfortunately. If it was up to her she'd keep you open on display like this and lick you clean until you were out of it and spent, but alas, you were getting your ass ate in a back alley for fucks sake.
Her tongue continue it's magic for some more, enough to get you off for two times, your hole leaking down like some fountain of youth.
But before giving you the pleasure of a third orgasm she pulls back, slaps your pussy from the back and pulls your pants back up. A needy whine slips your lips while you move your hips together to feel better. That was not enough.
As if reading your mind, "Look at the mess," trust she was no different under those clothes, "We'll continue later baby, when we get back."
Yeah and when you do get back, she'd split you apart with her eight inch strap, well lubed up and well pampered until you can't remember ever feeling so needy.
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sweetestdesire · 1 day
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BABY PICTURES
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes’ mother shows Fem!Reader his baby pictures.
Jack was pouting. Which truthfully, Y/N didn’t think there were all that many moments where he wasn’t pouting, but he seemed to be pouting a little extra right now. Maybe she should feel bad, and maybe she should feel a little guilty that he’s sulking because of her, but then his mother flipped the page of the baby album in her hands, and she suddenly didn’t care as much about her petulant boyfriend anymore. 
“This is Jack after he scraped his knee for the first time.” Ellen giggled, pointing to tiny, red and teary-faced Jack staring up at the camera, making Y/N snort as she leaned closer for a better look. 
“He looks ridiculous.” Y/N laughed, and distantly, she could hear Jack gasp at the comment, crossing his arms and sending her a glare from across the living room. 
“I was in pain.” Jack huffed. “Extremely excruciating pain. And my mother stopped to take a picture my misfortune. Who does that?”
To his dismay, Y/N didn’t even spare him a glance, pointing to the next picture of the album and giggling away with his mother, whispering what he was sure was yet another mean and rude comment making fun of him. What kid didn’t fall and scrape their knee? And what kid didn’t cry when they fall and scrape their knee? Normal children shed tears in the face of extreme pain, and Jack Hughes was not an exception to this fact. In fact, he liked to think he was one of the braver children.
“Jack, you were such a crybaby growing up.” Ellen shook her head, amusement lacing her tone as Y/N chuckled and shot him a sly grin. 
“So nothing’s changed.” She hummed. “He’s still a crybaby now, too.”
“I am not.” Jack gasped. “Take that back, you liar.”
“And this is Jack on his first day of school.” Ellen hummed, cutting him off and pointing to a picture of a young Jack waving at the camera, missing what Y/N was sure was his entire front row of teeth. She grinned, letting out a small chuckle as her eyes softened at the image. 
Usually, Jack Hughes was a handful. He was loud and annoying and he talked far too much for his own good. He made her life increasingly difficult with the stubbornness he wore like a second skin, and he made her want to crawl into a hole half the time they were in public for all the scenes he seemed to always cause. But sometimes Jack Hughes was also very cute like in this photo for example, with chubby cheeks and a bright grin on his face as he stood in his school outfit. 
“Awe, Jack.” Y/N cooed, making him perk up a little at the sound. “How cute.”
“I was a cute kid, wasn’t I?” He grinned, and almost as though he was never pouting in the first place, his mood switched at the slightest bit of praise. She rolled her eyes, giving him a flat look as she eyed him while he walked over to her, flopping onto the space beside her and looking over her shoulder. 
“You were.” Y/N nodded, making a point to eye him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “I wonder what happened.”
Jack gasped, and the pout from earlier returned once more and she couldn’t say that she was surprised. “Rude, I’m still cute, you know.” He grumbled, and because he was Jack Hughes, the most annoying man she’d ever had the pleasure of encountering on the face of the planet, he poked her shoulder repeatedly. “Admit it, you still find me cute.” He whined. “You literally called me cute this morning.”
“That’s because you were sleeping.” Y/N shrugged. “You’re really cute when you shut up.”
“Yes, my favorite Jack was always a napping Jack growing up.” Ellen added from the side. 
“Mom.” He protested, watching as Y/N and his mother snickered together. He wondered how the both of them could claimed to love him when they treated him like this, wounding his pride and ego with every insult thrown his way. He crossed his arms, angling his body away from Y/N as she giggled and wrapped herself around him. 
“We’re just kidding, Jack.” Y/N grinned, reaching to pinch his cheek, chuckling when he swatted her hand away with a grunt. “You’re really the cutest.”
“You’re a liar.” He mumbled, shooting her a glare as she fought back an amused smile. “You said you loved me, but clearly you lied to me.”
“I do love you.” Y/N insisted. “And I love your baby pictures, too.”
Usually, Jack felt his heart soften when he watched Y/N and his mother get along. He thought he fell in love with her just a little harder every time he watched her eyes light up when she saw the women who raised him. But sometimes, he wished he never introduced her to his mother. He was almost certain she preferred spending time with his mother over him, and he was even more certain his mother wished Y/N was were the one she raised instead. He almost felt like the third wheel half the time he brought her over and he couldn’t help but wonder who did she even love more, him or his mother? 
Jack thought he had his answer, though when Y/N leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. No matter how often the two giggled at his expense, she didn’t kiss his mother on the jaw, and Jack couldn’t help but shoot a smirk her way as she rolled her eyes and stood.
“There are more I have to dig up sometime.” Ellen hummed, making Jack groan as Y/N nodded eagerly. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”
“I’m starting to think you come over for my mom instead of me.” Jack huffed as his mother left the room, making her roll her eyes as she leaned into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against his body, relaxing as her hand found his chest and rubbed slow circles. 
“Only you would be jealous of your own mother.” Y/N snorted.
“I’m not jealous.” Jack protested. “I’m simply concerned that you ignore your boyfriend for hours to make fun of him with his mother.” 
If there was one thing Y/N had learned after flipping through page after page of crying baby pictures, it was that Jack has been dramatic since the day he was born. This fact didn’t change even in his adult years, but if there was one other thing she’s learned, it’s that he was endearing, just a little too cute for his own good, and just a little too dangerously charming whether it’s the camera he was pouting at or her. She couldn’t help but shuffle closer, hugging him tightly as she smiled softly into his shirt. 
“C’mon.” Y/N hummed, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You know you’re my favorite. I do wish I had a baby to cuddle with right now, though.”
“You have me.” Jack glared. “I’m your baby and you can cuddle with me.”
“It’s just not the same.” Y/N teased. “You talk too much.”
“I’ll have you know I got in trouble quite a lot as a child for talking too much. Adult me is a lot better.” Somehow, Y/N wasn’t surprised and a small part of her was almost grateful she didn’t know Jack in his young, obnoxious days as a child. An even bigger part of her felt bad for his mother and the strength she must’ve needed to raise the handful of a boyfriend in her arms along with his two brothers. “And besides.” Jack smirked, leaning down to pull her into a brief kiss. “If you want a baby, I could easily give you one.”
“Jack.” Y/N hissed, swatting his shoulder and making him pout as he rubbed over the spot she’d hit. “One of you is more than enough. We don��t need another.”
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anameistoohard · 1 day
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I hope it's not too rude to ask but, what are "littles", I've heard of "headmates" but "littles" is a term i came across recently and would like to know a bit more about it
Not rude at all!
Littles are child alters.
An alter can be any age or even fluctuate between ages (called an "age slider"). An alter's age isn't necessarily dependent on when they form either. Some alters age with the body, some remain static, and some are older than the body. It's all very situational and based on self perception, but you can assume: If you can think it, there's probably an alter out there somewhere who experiences it.
We personally like using the term "littles" instead of calling them children because they have a unique relationship with age. They have very different life experiences, access to knowledge, and just general understanding of things to an actual child. But they have a similar range of emotions as well as similar desires and needs. Also, it distinguishes them from being actual, literal, separate people.
-Taylor
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the girl next door 11
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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“How about dinner?” Steve asks as he stretches his arms above his head.
Your eyes wander the muscles of his arms, still bulging and round despite his age. He makes you feel lesser. You’re probably half his age and you’re all soft and cushy. You have nothing to admire. You scratch your scalp, itchy from the layer of sweat, and shrug.
Before he drops his arms, you catch a peek of his stomach. You look at the ground guiltily. You don’t even know why you were looking at him. It’s rude to stare.
“Sure, honey,” your mom answers as you follow Steve to the deck, “you been working so hard today.”
“You like barbeque?” Steve stops and nudges you with his elbow as you come up beside him. You shy away.
“Er, sure.”
“Oh,” your mom’s cheeks twitch, “mm, that’ll be nice. A little family dinner.”
You shrink down. You’re standing right there and she forgot about you. Or just doesn’t want you there.
“Ice cream for dessert,” Steve pats your shoulder and you wince again. He squeezes before he steps forward, “Holly, you okay?” He asks as your mother’s head tremors. “You’ve been sitting out here for a while. Maybe I could send you over something instead.”
“I’m good,” she insists, gripping the sides of the chair. She stands with an effort. She doesn’t look well.
“Alright, I’ll get stuff ready. Could use some help,” he looks at you. Your mother rubs her lower back and flutters he lashes in your direction.
“I can help,” she insists before you can answer.
“Really, Holly, relax,” Steve counters, “I know you want to help, but...” he pauses and reaches to grab her quivering hand, “you should probably just sit down.”
“Oh,” she looks at his grip before it falls away. “Yeah, I... you’re right. I’m... thanks.”
She sits down, uncharacteristically demure. You’ve never seen that in her. Any time you reminded her of her sickness, even unintentionally, she got defensive. Not this time. She almost looks sad.
“Come on, I’ll share my famous recipe with you, then you can make some for your mom,” Steve says as he waves you towards the doors.
You shuffle behind him, offering no resistance. You wouldn’t want to stay in case your mom chose to direct her shame at you. She won’t say it to his face but she won’t have any problem sharing her displeasure with you.
You leave your shoes by the door, overly aware of your surroundings. Steve’s house is clean and spacious. He might have just moved in but you suspect it’s as much his standards as the newness. He leads you into the kitchen and you stand awkwardly by the counter.
“Should wash your hands,” he goes to the double sink and grabs the dish soap, “come here.”
You near him, hunched slightly, and he squeezes soap into his own hand before aiming the nozzle toward you. You hold out your hands and he squirts the liquid onto your palms. The water scours from the tap and you wet your hands, forced to stand closer than you like as you lather up the bubbles. You scrub your nails and get between your fingers, making sure to get as much as the residue as you can.
You rinse off and he grabs a hand towel, offering it to you first before he takes it and dries his hands. He hangs it and turns to the fridge. That’s fancy too. The door is glass and you can see the contents without opening it. He pulls the door and reaches within.
You wait listlessly as he takes out his ingredients. You shy away as he moves towards you, opening cupboards to pick out seasoning, then bending to grab a bowl from below. He plunks the large dish on the counter near you.
“How about you make us a salad, sweetie?” He grabs several veggies from his horde and sets them by the bowl, “knives are right there.”
He points to the block then opens another cupboard. He takes out a spinner and sets that out as well. He has all these nice things and fresh food. Your salads come out of plastic containers or bags.
You rinse off a pepper and put it on the cutting board. You slide out a knife and stare at the veggie before you slice into it. You chop it in half and seeds spill everywhere. You frown as they stick to your fingers. You try to move the heavy wooden board but can’t budge it. Instead, you rinse the inside of the pepper then wipe the board with your hand.
“Here, let me show you a trick,” Steve turns and takes the knife, “Cut the sides,” he takes the yellow pepper, “like this.” He expertly trims off each side then cuts them into neat slices, turning them to dice into squares. You watch quietly and he turns the handle of the knife to you. “See.”
You nod and take the knife. Doesn’t matter much, the red ones already halved. You do your best to cut out the middle with all the seeds and slice slower than him, careful of your fingers. It takes you far too long to do the tomato, with no shortage of gushing juices, and the onion.
As you add them all to the rinsed lettuce, Steve adds some crumbled soft cheese and croutons. You clean up the remnants of your work and he points you to the metal bin. You step on the pedal and dumb it all inside. You return to the counter as he pulls out another bowl.
“Now the burgers, we got the meat,” he unfolds a paper package and dumbs the ground beef into the bowl, “bread crumbs,” he shakes the tin, “but most important is the seasoning.”
He takes each slender container, measuring out the powders and dried herbs by sight alone. He names them each but you can’t keep track. He caps the last one and spreads his fingers wide.
“Now the good part,” he proclaims and kneads it all together with his hands.
You watch his fingers work, deft and confident. He mashes in the bread crumbs and seasoning then holds up his messy hands.
“You can help with the next part,” he takes a handful and rounds out the meat into a patty shape. “Just like that. Think we’ll do what? Six or so? Might want seconds after all that hard work.”
“Okay,” you reach in and take the cold beef. The texture is unnerving. You mimic his own motion, rolling it into a ball then flattening it. He puts the first one on the plate and you add yours to it.
“You’re quiet,” he comments.
You flick your eyes up and back down, reaching for more meat.
“Not that it’s bad. Shy? I know we’re just getting to know each other. That’s cool. But I get it,” he says as he takes a handful, “you know, it’s really something the way you look after your mom.”
You nod then shake your head, “she’s my mom.”
“Yeah, but... not everyone... would,” he says. “You know, you should give yourself more credit.”
You grumble and put down the patty in your hands.
“Well, if I’m gonna be around, I wanna help out, you know? You shouldn’t be taking this all on yourself. It’s amazing you’ve done it so far but... you’re young, you deserve to have some fun.”
You press your lips and roll another patty. You focus on the task as you watch your hands. He sniffs and lets out a deep breath.
“One day, you’re gonna make some lucky guy a good wife,” he says, “so you might as well enjoy your free time while you got it.”
You blink, surprised by his suggestion. That’s a far way off, if it ever happens. You don’t really know what will happen... after. You only ever worried about today. Tomorrow can wait.
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the-lil-spud · 1 day
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Mama Didn't Raise no Bimbo Part Three!
Part three is here my gorgeous little demons! Now just to warn you all this is literally a filler part BUT it explains a bit of why Angel invited Y/N up to the tower when we had warned her away before!
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
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Getting in the elevator you almost didn’t turn back to face the two Vee’s. Your nerves almost getting the better of you. But if you didn’t turn you just knew that would be a win for them. So, you straighten your spine, mentally pull your big girl panties up and turn as gracefully as you can with your best award winning smile to face them both.
The two predatory smirks and narrowed eyes directed at you made your dead heart thump in your chest.
You were so fucked!  
So, the entire taxi ride to the club you and Angel didn’t say a word to each other, a few awkward glances here and there but not a word. You watched out the corner of your eye him open and close his mouth various times as if to say something and then stop themselves. After the sixth time it was starting to wind you up.
Finally reaching the club you both make your way to your usual booth; waving over at the bartender and point to the vodka bottles behind them – your usual poison on nights out with Angel. Something was telling you that you’d be needing it more tonight. Waiting until you both had a full glass you down it in one, wincing at the sting before pouring yourself another. Catching Angel open and close his mouth again you grumble under your breath.
“Right Angel, cut the bullshit what the fuck was that back there?” Leaning back against your chair your narrowed gaze focused on the squirming demon in front.
“What do you mean what the fuck? What the fuck was with you flirtin’ with the Vee’s?” Crossing his arms defensively, glaring right back at you.
“Like fuck I was flirting! If you hadn’t noticed I was trying to escape some very unwanted advances. Which, by the way, only happened because you invited me up there in the first place!” You knocked back another glass of vodka. Wincing again you try to push down the small bit of guilt that was rising. You knew it wasn’t Angel’s fault that Vox and Valentino had acted like they did. And sure, maybe you did flirt a little bit back with them, but it was mainly out of self-preservation. Only a tiny bit was because you thought they were a hot and what girl doesn’t like a bit of attention off rich and charismatic demons? Especially when you knew you shouldn’t like the attention.
The conflicted look that graced Angel’s face made you take notice. Pouring two drinks for you both, pushing his glass towards him you ask: “what is with the face sugar?” Pulling at his bow tie he grimaced before necking his drink then taking your full one from your hand and finishing that one too. Rude.
“That isn’t exactly the way it went down Y/n”, gesturing for you to pour another round you do so but with a slight frown. What did he mean? Deciding to sip on his next drink he sighed after a moment, avoiding your eyes he admitted: “I didn’t wanna invite you up there Y/n, but Val asked me too – turns out Vox wanted to meet you”.
The drink you were sipping managed to catch in the middle of your throat, holding a hand up to your mouth you started to cough up the vodka. Eyes watering and confusion bubbling you banged on your chest with your other hand. Angel quickly sat beside you giving your back a swift tap to help dislodge the liquid. After a few moments you managed to catch your breath, turning in the seat to focus on Angel, pushing your drink back on the table.
“He what? Vox wanted to meet me?”
Angel wiped a few of the escaped tears off your cheeks with his gloved fingers, a crooked smile on his face, “yeeep, weird right?” Just a tad.
“Hang on. So let me get this crystal clear. Vox asked Val to tell you to invite me up to the Vee tower all because he wanted to meet me?”
Nodding he slips your now full glass back in your hand. Huh. It was weird.
“Well yeah sugar tits, did no red flags go up when I asked you to come considering how much I bitch about Val?” A sheepish grin tugs the corner of your lips as you shrug at Angel, even when you were alive you were an idiot for ignoring red flags. “Look babe, all I know – and you didn’t hear this from me – is that Vox heard you singing on Alastor’s show and wanted to know who you were. Val managed to rub two brain cells together and figured out that I knew you and when Vox asked him, he then came to me and demanded that I get you to the tower somehow. I’m sorry Y/n I didn’t know what they were gonna do and I should have found a way to warn you or said no some more, but you know how Val is and I ju”-
Holding up your hand to stop him talking, you processed all the information. Knowing Valentino, he wouldn’t have given Angel an option to say no especially with that damn contract they had. The logical thought here was Vox probably just wanted to see if you were a threat as you were connected to Alastor – the Radio Demon – both had an extreme dislike towards one another. So it was reasonable to believe he was just checking out the competition. The illogical (and wishful thinking) part was that he wanted you for other reasons other than seeing if you were a threat, instead just wanting you for and in nefarious different ways. Pushing that thought aside for later you realised you had been quiet for a few minutes and Angel was starting to panic.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze to stop the panic “you do not have to apologise Angel; I know if you could have prevented me from going there you would have. You are bound by your contract; I don’t hold you responsible at all. Plus, they are the Vee’s, they’d have found another way to meet me and could be that wouldn’t have gone quite so smoothly”.
A relieved sigh heaved from his chest, a small smile was back on his face, glad your friend was feeling better you sipped at your drink checking the demons out around you before Angel’s voice caught your attention again.
“Just becareful Y/n. You know you can’t trust them as far as you can throw them”, his no-nonsense look made a smile twitch at the corner of your lips. Isn’t that basically everyone in hell? Well, everyone apart from dear Princess Charlie.
“Gorgeous do I look that stupid? I ain’t about to go looking for trouble so don’t you worry about me, plus I think they’ll leave me be now. They’ve met me, mystery over, they’ll be bored and hopefully will find some other poor fool to stalk” you reason while finishing your drink.
An unimpressed Angel snorted at that. And to be honest, you were unimpressed with yourself too as you didn’t even believe your own bullshit. Remembering the sparks that came from Vox’s claws on your hips, or the powerful grip of Valentino on your chin … yeah you could only pray that they would leave you alone. But somehow you couldn’t quite see that happening.
Could you?
A small vibrate coming from your phone captured your attention, pulling it out of your purse you glance up as Angel goes up to the bar to either get more drinks or drugs. Glaring daggers at a demon who bumped into your table with their drunkenness you bare your fangs before they even open their mouth to say some drivel that you probably have heard hundreds of times before. Drunken idiots were the same in hell as they were on Earth. Opening your phone you are pretty sure you had lost your eyebrows up into your hairline.
Your notifications had gone crazy. Confused you drag open Sintagram to see you had suddenly gained thousands of follows and likes. What the fuck? Not that you were complaining but what the hell. Angel returned to the table with a cup of pills and a bottle of whiskey. Before he could sit you grabbed his hand and shoved your phone into it.
“What now?” Gesturing to the notifications he started to laugh. “Ooooh sugar, finally you are reaching my level of stardom so what did ya do? Show those glorious tits finally on here? Accidental nip slip? Not so accidental nip-slip?” His chuckles became louder as your cheeks got redder.
“No nothing like that, or I hope to Hell that I didn’t on my last post!” Going to grab your phone, Angel shoved you back in your chair as he started flicking through your notifications. Grumbling in defeat you grab the bottle of whiskey and pour yourself a shot. You’d drink yourself to death, but you stayed away from the drugs here – you took a purple pill when you first came to hell and couldn’t move for nearly a week.
“Welllllll… it’s no nip slip”, a sly smirk was tugging at his lips, and he popped a pill into his mouth. Pouring another shot of whiskey, you raise your eyebrows up in question. “Seems like it’s not just the two Vee’s attention you managed to grab”. Frowning you take your phone off the now smug demon. You paused in shock when you see.
Seems Velvette had tagged your photo on her story with the hashtag #newmodel? Flicking your gaze back up to an amused Angel.
“Well toots … you might as well collect all three than just two. Here’s to you babe - you are so fucked”. He raised his glass. Raising your own you blink in shock.
Fucked was right.
Tagged: @tasha-1994
A03 link is here
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thegoldencontracts · 2 days
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Housewardens with a Tsundere!Reader (Pt. 1)
I've seen this a lot, and I wanted to share my own takes on how I think they'd act! This is a part one, including Riddle, Leona, and Azul.
Summary: You're tough, brash, and rude, getting snippy at all those who try to approach you. All for the sake of covering up your soft side. How do the housewardens react?
Notes: Romance, GN!reader
Contains: Riddle, Leona, Azul
Riddle Rosehearts
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He thinks your behavior is highly improper.
When he first approaches you, you do not hesitate to screech that he's an idiot.
He can and will try to collar you if you're getting particularly loud.
All in all, he thinks you and your defensive, brash nature are utterly infuriating. If you hit him, expect to be collared. You're just- so annoying.
...So why does his heart race whenever he's around you?
That's right. Riddle's also a tsundere (sometimes, at least)
And that means you two are evenly matched
Poor Trey often has to watch you two and your constant bickering, and your occasional stammering.
You yell that Riddle's an idiot, he says you're a buffoon who never learned to respect the rules. Both of you secretly like each other. It is painful to watch.
You make Riddle lunch and you claim you just had extra. Of course, he responds by denying his appreciation.
Who will confesses first? It really depends on whose friends decide to finally intervene.
All in all, you two have a cute yet infuriating to watch relationship.
Leona Kingscholar
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He doesn't have time for you, or so he thinks.
When he first sees you, rebuking you for encroaching upon his territory, you call him an idiot for thinking anyone would ever take his ridiculous territory claims seriously.
You're not off to a great start. Leona is very likely to try and make you put your money where your mouth is.
...With a game of chess, of course! Leona just woke up and doesn't feel like particularly like fighting right now.
That, and, he doesn't know why, but he really doesn't feel like getting you hurt.
Considering just how good Leona is, there's a very good chance he'll absolutely demolish you.
But if you manage to win, he'll definitely be impressed.
Either way, he'll tell you to stop bothering him. You huff, and say he was the one bothering you, and that's that.
Except it isn't. Of course, somehow, the two of you end up stuck together. First you're paired up in a joint class, then you're both locked in the botanical gardens during an emergency, and then Ruggie keeps making the two of you talk.
Leona hates it. Considering the way you huff, you do you.
Except, once again, neither of you do.
You actually try to get closer to Leona - despite the roundabout, brash way you go about it - and he hates that he likes it.
Your average interaction at first consists of him telling you to 'get away, herbivore', and you yelling at him to 'stop bossing me around, idiot!'
But slowly, he stops pushing you away. And you warm up with time too.
You're weirdly friendly - though sometimes, your insults do genuinely get to Leona. You'll apologize in that roundabout, flustered way of yours, and though Leona rarely vocalizes, he'll accept.
He doesn't want to lose you, after all, no matter how much he pretends he couldn't care less.
Leona doesn't confess first. You don't confess first. Ruggie confesses first on both of your behalfs, and though Leona plans to chew him out at first, when things work out, Ruggie quickly finds himself on the receiving end of countless donuts.
While dating, both of you will likely be softer with one another.
Once again, very cute relationship, and both of you are so harsh and yet so soft with each other at the same time.
Azul Ashengrotto
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At first, Azul genuinely dislikes you. Your posturing, your pride, the way you seem to look down on him with your endless insults reminds him of those who bullied him.
But, Azul isn't that same little octopus anymore. He's grown used to insults, sadly. He's been looked down on all his life.
Your words mean nothing to him. They're a slight sting at most.
Overall, he'd just like to stay away from you. The moment you first met, you told him to "S-Stay away from me, you scheming idiot!"
Then, when he - in an attempt to stay smug despite his burgeoning temper - asked you if you were scared, you replied that you could never be scared of a slow, clumsy loser like him.
Slow, clumsy, idiotic octopus. That's what they called him as a kid.
And then, he sees your cuter moments. The more endearing ones. And he can't help but feel his heart flutter against his wishes.
God, Azul hates it. He hates how cute he finds you, how his heart races whenever he's around you.
Love is a position of vulnerability. Azul's meant to take advantage of it, not be the one stuck with it!
And, well, Azul's never known anything but rejection when it comes to true connection. Even the twins always insisted they were nothing more than his business partners (though the accuracy of their claim is rather dubious).
And you? You're going to mock him for sure.
Truth be told, Azul's scared. He's scared of what'll happen if you find out about the budding feeling in his chest, and he's scared of being laughed at by someone who he can't help but love.
So, of course, he tries to keep his walls up. Never drop that smug air of his. Never let you see the burgeoning fear underneath.
But that doesn't work out. You do manage to squeeze out the cracks in his facade, but then you laugh, saying he should really drop that infuriating smug face and do this more often because it looks cute, and he doesn't know what to do.
People aren't supposed to love this side of him. Least of all you. You're always insulting him, after all!
And yet, you think he looks cute like this. He hates how much his face flushes at that.
Now that Azul's developed a crush, he can't deny that, now, there are times when your jabs get to him. He doesn't say anything. He can't. He had to remain composed, because otherwise he's opening himself up to endless mockery.
But one day, it gets to him, and he finds himself hunched in a corner, reverting to his old habits as he furiously checks himself for any imperfections. What's he doing wrong? Is his voice truly annoying?
...And then you walk in on him.
How had he forgotten to lock the door? He feels like such a moron, but he can't let you see, or-
You're nothing but patient and apologetic. Even as he hisses at you to leave, threatens you, and tries to make you a contract, you're still patient.
You apologize, for once. He can't help but still get prickly with you, after all, you've just witnessed a humiliating moment of his that you caused. But he still does appreciate it.
You two do gradually get closer, softer, doing favors for one another. Feelings are budding. And yet, neither of you do anything.
Eventually, Jade and Floyd intervene, and just straight up set you two up. It's embarrassing for the both of you, but hey, at least you got together.
Azul's still docking their pay, of course.
Though the two of you get off to a rough start, you still manage to find your way together in the end.
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