#i still get out of sight if i see her in town because idk if she’s going to try to follow me home and do something weird

[fingertipsmp3]

Facebook will jumpscare you for no reason. Like why did I need to know that the girl who used to stalk me is pregnant, and why did I need to know one of my former bullies has just married an ugly man

[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

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It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

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[babiebom]

Heyyy! I was wondering if u could do the bachelors & bachelorettes reactin to / dating an s/o who has really intense nose bleeds when they're stressed. But plot twist bc this is literally the norm for the farmer bc they have crippling anxiety, especially social.

Thank u sm!!

A/N: I don’t know why I thought this was funny??? My anxiety just makes my stomach upset but a nosebleed in front of everyone like some sort of anxious demon is funny. Not the clean up tho. I’ve never had a nosebleed but I know they bleed SO MUCH. Also no problemo!!! Always glad to get requests!! I did different things (so not just stressed because I would’ve written the same thing for anyone I made crush aspects as sort of for stress too lmao) for each hopefully they’re good enough!

Tw: cursing, blood, anxiety, the nose bleeds are VERY dramatic because it’s fiction lmao. Physical fights(in Leah’s part), arguments(in almost all of them). Pierre hate Pam hate(kinda) Demetrius hate Morris hate. And Kel is gender neutral! let me know if there’s anything else to tag!

Wc: idk lmao hopefully at least 100 words for each

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian:

Just frowns

Actually helps unexpectedly

….we can never talk about this happening again if you want……

It’s not often that you get to see the towns resident emo, even after visiting Robin multiple times for various building needs. So when you wander into the house, looking for Robin so you can upgrade your coop, seeing him makes your brain malfunction.

“Oh…hey farmer.” He greets, moving past you to head further into the house. You blink for a second before returning the greeting, watching as his dark hoodie disappears behind a wall.

You try to force your breathing to slow down. There is absolutely NO reason you should be this worked up over a literal one second conversation. While you sit with your thoughts, foot steps fill your ears and the sight of Sebastian returning from wherever he went makes all of your progress regress. “So…you here waiting for my mom?”

You nod quickly, clearing your throat, “yeah…um…just need to upgrade my chicken coop.”

“Oh well, she’s not in today. She usually goes to Pierre’s store to work out with the other moms.”

You frown to yourself, how did you miss that she wouldn’t be in today? Damn now all you can think about is how you just made a fool of yourself. Lost in your thoughts, you miss that Sebastian had cleared his throat a couple times until he waves a hand in front of your face.

“If you want, I can take your order and tell her when she gets home later. That way she can get started tomorrow.”

“Would you?” Your heart flips as you perk up. Was he usually this nice? You kinda heard from Robin herself that Sebastian never really interacted with people he wasn’t already friends with.

“Yeah sure.” He shrugs and moves to go around the counter, setting his slowly cooling food down. “Okay so she usually charges 10,000g and you have to have 400 logs of wood and 150 things of stone. Sound right?”

You nod and hand over the bag of money. The second your hands touch it’s like your body decided it couldn’t handle anything else from him. Luckily he just takes the money and pretends like your nose hasn’t become a geyser as you scramble to try to keep the blood from dripping all over their furniture.

Sam:

WOAH DUDE IS THAT LIKE….NORMAL?

it’s like from a movie or something

Is overall sorta scared but at the same time thinks it’s cool

“And this is how I do a kick flip!” Sam shows you skateboard trick after trick and honestly you can’t get enough of it. It wasn’t a secret that the both of you had crushes on each other, and even now it was very obvious by how you were watching him do his tricks that you had feelings for him. Yet still you two weren’t in a relationship, just sort of friends who like each other in a romantic sort of way.

“You’re so cool!” You clap as he lands another trick.

“And you’re cute!”

“What?”

You freeze in your spot and watch in confusion as he sort of freezes midway through his next trick and crashes to the ground. His words echo in your head, making your face heat up and your heart soar. He smacks his face on the ground, sending you into a panic because now all you can think about is how he thinks you’re cute, and now how he probably has a concussion from hitting his face directly onto the concrete.

When he lifts his face off the ground, you’re kneeling next to him, trying to check on him. His forehead is bleeding, his nose is bleeding, and so is his mouth. You shriek and try to go through your backpack to see if you have anything to help him. You didn’t.

You already know where this is leading, and you let out a groan of annoyance right before your nose starts leaking just like his. His eyes widen and he lets out a loud laugh. Maybe you two can move out of the weird friendship you have after all.

Shane:

Would just stare silently

Like no comments no nothing

Doesn’t even act like it’s happening

Having a part time job at Joja Mart during the winter is one of the absolute worst ideas that you’ve had in a while. But you didn’t make a lot during your first year of farming. Stacking the products onto the shelves, your only saving Grace is the fact that you’re allowed to have earphones in. Except for the fact that Pam is now standing next to you asking loudly about where something is. Shane is stacking the shelves behind you.

“I don’t know Pam…the alcohol is probably on the wall in the back.” You frown at her. She obviously knows that you don’t know this store that well, you were a FARMER that NEVER shopped here before. She rasps out another question and it takes everything in you to not snap at her. Trying to calm yourself of course there’s gonna be something else that makes you lose your mind. That something is Morris, coming over and being the absolute WORST and in turn making Pam LOUDER and more insistent.

He’s lecturing you, Pam is agreeing with him way too loudly, the music on your headphones is now overwhelming instead of calming, and the sound of random things in the market is making you want to bite a chunk out of the loaves of bread in front of you, plastic and all. With everything building up inside of you, you already know what’s going to happen. It always happens, but instead of excusing yourself you stand there, staring Morris down as the blood begins to flow from your nostrils.

Pam yells out curses and Morris begins to stutter, but behind them Shane just stares for a second before continuing to work. When you’re finally left alone with him in the aisle as your two stressors hastily take their leave, all he does is let out a dry chuckle.

“Sam has a hell of a mess to clean up…”

Alex:

Oh DUDE your nose is like….LEAKING

Doesn’t help

Just watched and comments

“AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY HARVESTS ARE HIS BUT HE ONLY DOES IT IF ITS GOOD!” You rant to the brown haired boy, pacing back and forth in his room. Thankfully both Evelyn and George were out so you weren’t bothering anyone except for the man in front of you.

You huff and puff as he watches, slightly amused slightly concerned. Alex wasn’t the best person to go to when you’re upset unless it was something absolutely devastating. So being in front of him now, complains about your farming woes meant that he was only half ass taking it seriously. “You should go and speak your mind.” He says.

Turns out you should NOT take advice from Alex. Standing in Pierre’s shop, you’re staring him down angrily, anxiety creeping up your throat from you trying to will yourself to call him out on his bullshit. The older man just kind of stares at you in confusion because all you had done was shout his name angrily as you entered the shop then stand in front of him seething.

“You….you…..” you point a finger at him. This was the moment, the moment you stand up for yourself and tell Pierre how HORRIBLE he is!

But of course things don’t work how you want and your nose gushes out blood all over the counter before you can work yourself up to the point of accusations. With a gasp you run out of the shop, hoping that he would keep his mouth shut with Alex running behind you laughing. Again, NEVER let Alex talk you into anything.

Elliott:

Panics

How do I help PLS LET ME HELP

Everything probably gets messy

Fishing had never been your favorite pastime, but now trying to fix up the community center you had to. Unfortunately Willy was gone and couldn’t properly teach you even though he had gifted you an old rod of his, so the next best thing is getting your boyfriend to teach you since he does fish often. Now you stand on the docks, waiting for a fish to bite the hook.

“Keep calm, the fish can feel your fear and it makes them upset.” Elliott spoke. In all honesty you didn’t even know if that was true or not, but you take in a breath to calm down. You did not want to be here all day you had cows to pet.

The second your line begins to pull you try to pull the fish in. And you succeed until it comes time to unhook the eel you managed to catch. The eel is slimy and slippery and all around not a good thing to try to grip. A shriek leaves your lips and the eel struggles, Elliott tries to help you but is also struggling to catch hold of it. And now your nose is bleeding adding another layer to the already hellish experience.

You’re unhappy, the eel is unhappy, and Elliott is unhappy. After what seems like an hour, the stupid thing slips out of your grips and back into the ocean, washing your nose blood off of it and splashing you with saltwater. 0 out of 10 you will not be trying again.

Harvey:

Calm but concerned(after panicking for a second)

Has a doctory approach to it

But is secretly like WTF inside

Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the clinic bed. It’s been a while since you’ve been in Harvey’s clinic, having taken a break from the mines, and somehow this seems more shameful than having been beaten almost to death by living slime. Your hands bleed into the cloth you have pressed into it. One of the pigs knocked you over into the broken fence you were in the middle of fixing. Now you sit waiting for the good looking Doctor.

When he walks in he’s all smiles, tapping his clipboard with his pen. “While I’m sad to see that you’re injured, I’m glad to see it isn’t from those mines again.” The eye contact he makes with you makes your heart twist for a second.

He starts speaking of all the shots you need and the antibiotics you need to take, rust poisoning is quite serious you know. “Now,” he says, moving towards you, “let me see your hand.”

Your heart thumps erratically at the close proximity of him and you. You only really ever got to see him this close when you were half dead and barely conscious. His face is much too close for you to be able to do anything but focus on how pretty his eyes are, and how fluffy his mustache is, and how…

“OH MY DEAR YOBA” He yelps and jumps away from you. It takes only a second after him to realize what’s going on, and now your furiously wiping away at your nose with your hands instead of with the cloth, and he’s trying to get something on your nose to catch the blood. It’s a disaster, really. But at least you’re already in a clinic!

Penny:

Probably panics

Doesn’t know how to deal with it

Would try to help though

The warmth of the pool in the spa did nothing to ease your nerves as you waded in the shallow end of the pool. Penny had invited you to come sometime after 7 pm, and when you had arrived she was already waiting for you, kicking her feet in the pool. The thought of her asking you here made your stomach turn, did you do something wrong…? Was she inviting you here to tell you she hated you or something…? You had grown close to her over your time here and would hate it if she thought you were too much or something.

“Do you know why I invited you here?” She asks, moving closer but keeping her eyes on the water.

You shake your head, “I’m not exactly sure, no.”

She frowns and sighs at you, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second then looking elsewhere. “Really? I thought you would’ve noticed by now…” her words trail off and her eyebrows furrow.

The next few seconds are ones that you simultaneously want to remember for forever and forget. She confesses her feelings for you. Feelings that you obviously reciprocate, and the emotions in you mix and grow, rising up your throat as if you were a volcano of conflicting feelings. As soon as you open your mouth to tell her that yes, you like her too, her face morphs into one that’s horrified instead of hopeful, disgusted instead of smitten and you realize a second after she does that your nose is spouting red, dyeing the water you both were swimming in.

Penny shrieks for a solid second before trying to scramble out of the water as fast as she can. You do the same, swirling the red around the pool as both of you splash trying to exit the now crime scene looking pool. When you get out of the water, she’s holding a towel right in your face, smooshing it so hard you can barely breathe and now your nose is throbbing with slight pain. “What do we do?!” She asks moving about quickly. She’s so confused that she just keeps walking and turning as if she’s remembering and forgetting things at the same time.

You just tilt your head downward and cringe inwardly, this was not the way to get a girl to like you. “It’s fine…I’m fine,” you say voice nasally and muffled. “And I like you too by the way.”

Haley:

confused staring

wtf is happening

Actually speechless

It isn’t every day that you get to talk to a beautiful blonde. It isn’t even every day that you talk to anyone. So when she approaches you on one of your trips off of your farm you couldn’t help but feel like either everything is out to get you or that you’re up on your luck. You don’t really know for sure, it honestly depends on how things go.

“Hey farmer!” She smiles as soon as she stops in front of you, the feeling of your stomach twisting makes you want to vomit in all of your nervousness. “I have a favor to ask you…”

“Yeah?” You ask trying to keep your cool. “What is it?”

“I would totally love love LOVE you forever if you could bring me an amethyst? It’s for Emily’s birthday and I don’t really like Clint so I don’t wanna buy anything from him. I’m willing to pay 150g!”

You cough into your fist, nodding along and taken aback by how casually she’s speaking to you. Before you can accept doing her the favor, the horrified look on your face makes your words falter.

She looks absolutely horrified, and touching your hand to your face you can feel why. Your nose started dripping blood, and by dripping you mean you can now feel it running down to your chin. A flurry of curses leave your mouth as confused noises leave hers. It's not much of a surprise that this has happened, but man did you wish it wasn't in front of her.

Emily:

Surprisingly chill about it

Probably has a weird story about a nosebleed or something

Actually helps

You sit at the bar alone, upset at a horrible farming day. You tried your best, you really did, but those stupid ass crows actually ate ALL of your seedlings. Or…almost all of them but that’s basically the same thing! There is no way you’re gonna make enough to make it through winter comfortably. You told Emily exactly this, appreciative of her listening ear in the middle of her busy shift.

“You know they probably didn’t mean it…or maybe they did,” she sucks in a breath eyebrows furrowing as she thinks, “you know crows are very smart they probably know that you’re using that land to farm and stay there because of all the free food.”

“But it’s not free!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in annoyance, “I have to buy those seeds! They’re just putting me into debt!”

She hums and nods, wiping the bar next to you where a person had just left. You had only a couple months left until the snow started falling and making it virtually impossible to grow anything. The little plants you had left you had to fight the crows for. And by fight I mean you angrily swung a broom at the with the intent of scaring them (not hitting them that’s mean). Still the growing anger inside you was not easily crushed by her warm and quite frankly outlandish words. No, in fact your anger grew the more you thought about it.

You felt it coming before anything had even exited your nose, hurriedly snatching the rag from Emily’s hands. Damn now you would have to buy the bar a new one. She just blinks then nods as if your nose becoming a bloody waterfall was normal.

“You know…nose bleeds cause by stress is usually because your heart rate and blood pressure increase and it causes your blood vessels to dilate!”

You stare at her before laughing. Maybe she was helpful after all.

Abigail:

WOAH

WTF

WHAT DO WE DO?

You stand in front of Pierre in front of the shop, arms crossed as you watch his face grow redder the longer time goes on. “-IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAUGHTER?” You’re not really listening to his tirade, over the whole ‘protective dad’ thing.

“Dad I’m an adult! You have no say in who I date!” Abigail yells back, face equally red. Who would’ve known that he would have a problem with the farmer he rips off constantly dating his daughter?

He yells out more reasons that the two of you shouldn’t be dating, and in turn points a finger into your chest roughly. You sputter out an offended sound, moving away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

“You shouldn’t be touching my daughter!”

“What? Dude we just started dating, you’re weird as hell!”

The arguing only gets worse from there, accusations flying around and now an audience comes with the drama. It’s almost too much for you to handle with now Caroline, Harvey, Haley, and the Milner family standing and watching the chaos. “Abby let’s just go to my place…” you try suddenly feeling the need to escape and no longer feeling the ‘fuck you dude’ attitude.

“No! He needs to understand that he can’t control my life!”

It’s like a volcano in your body and just like a volcano your nose begins to erupt. Now you’re screaming, Abigail is screaming, Pierre is screaming, the Mullners are screaming. Could this get any worse?

Turns out yeah, it can get any worse, like a family fight worse and now all of you are sitting in Harvey’s clinic. At least you aren’t the only bloody one now.

Maru:

Is surprised

Also forgets what to do

Would probably make things worse

Maru talks about robots and space the way you would talk about her: totally and completely enamored. You sit on her bed listening to her talk about her newest invention, some sort of robot that can cook and clean and basically be a free maid. You laugh and move your arm to get in a more comfortable position to watch her. Unfortunately your arm had other plans and smacked hard into her bed post. Groaning out in pain, your eyes close and begin to water from how much your elbow hurt.

Demetrius is in your face before you even realize that he was in the room. You yelp out in surprise as he starts ranting about you ruining his daughter’s future. You blink in surprise and try to retreat back into the mattress. What was happening. You can hear Maru screaming over his words but your ears feel like they’re filled with water.

“We’re just friends!” You find yourself shouting. Like damn is the man insane? It wasn’t the first time he’s gotten upset at you over Maru, but it was the first time that he was absolutely losing his mind.

“Dad stop!”

Time froze for a second as you and Demetrius stared at each other, Maru standing near him. Breathing in you can taste blood in your mouth before your nose starts bleeding, yet you can’t bring yourself to do anything but sit and catch your breath.

“Oh my god!” Both Demetrius and Maru exclaim moving around the room trying to find something to help. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him acting concerned now.

Thankfully Maru looked cute trying to help you which at least made things a little better.

Leah:

Is also freaking out on the inside but calm on the outside

Helps you with tissues

Is understanding

Going on a date with Leah is a dream come true. There’s paint, wine, food, and you’re sitting in the prettiest meadow you’ve ever seen, well it’s pretty because Leah is there and she’s pretty and you’ve been here multiple times because it’s near her cottage but it still looks different today.

You sit, paintbrush in hand, laughing at something she’s saying. It’s fun and if she hadn’t have asked you would’ve spent the day farming like usual, this little break was needed. The day couldn’t be ruined, absolutely nothing can ruin it.

Okay, one thing can ruin it and that one thing is Kel coming and ruining everything. The argument that ensues is one of the worst that you’ve seen. Kel tries to walk up on you(translation: Kel wants to fight you), Leah stops them but in turn gets into a fight with them which causes you to actually get up and try to defend her.

You kinda block out until you can hear Kel call out “I made your nose bleed bitch!” Which again causes you to want to drown in your anger.

“My noses is bleeding because I’m stressed, stupid!” You back. It’s obvious Kel hadn’t been able to hit your nose so claiming to be able to hit you so hard your nose bleeds isn’t even possible. It’s almost childish how the two of you argue.

Leah finally gets Kel to leave and hands you a bunch of tissues as she sits you down on the now rumpled blanket. As the two of you catch your breath and calm down, you find yourself smiling at her behind the wad of tissues catching blood flowing from your nose.

At least the situation would be funny in the future.

[calicough]

hi hi hi :) could u maybe write a thing abt like reader and hazel being childhood friends who slowly start to fall for each other but don’t say anything for a long time and then maybe they get into an argument of some kind and confess their feelings??

idk if you’ve done something like that but it just crossed my mind!

sour grapes – hazel callahan

— your scent is still unripe and green.

childhood friends to lovers. fluff. yearning. kind of long!

hazel could still remember the first time she became your friend. it was back in kindergarten. you had just moved into town and you were the new kid. but to her, you were known as the kid with the mcdonald's strawberry shortcake keychain where her hat slides to the side to reveal a lip balm.

little hazel was collecting all four characters— she had around 3 orange blossoms, 2 ginger snaps, and at least 5 angel cakes —but she couldn't get her hands on the strawberry shortcake one because it's always out. so when she saw your strawberry shortcake dangling from your backpack, she came up with a plan that she spent two days devising; she'll steal your keychain in exchange for one of her angel cakes.

of course her plan didn't work. it was snack time when she found herself in front of your backpack, smiling at the sight of strawberry shortcake. she was about to take the keychain off after applying the balm on her lips rather messily when she heard a loud gasp behind her. hazel quickly turned around to see you already stomping towards your teacher. "miss sandy!"

panicking, hazel ran after you and pulled on your hair to try to stop you. it did stop you, but it also made you start crying. a concerned miss sandy marched towards where you were standing. "hey guys, what's happening here?" she crouched down to your eye level while rubbing your back to calm you down, her pretty pink floral dress creasing. "what's wrong sweetie?"

"hazel was trying to steal my strawberry shortcake and she pulled my hair," you pointed at her as tears came out of your eyes and snot came out of your nose. you were sobbing so hard that miss sandy didn't understand a single word you said, but deduced that it had something to do with your keychain. you had gotten it on your birthday. you liked strawberry shortcake but you weren't much of a big fan, you only liked her strawberry scent on her head. but nonetheless, it was a birthday present and you cherished it with all your heart.

when you saw hazel's bag with an angel cake keychain, you were elighted because you both have a lip balm keychain from mcdonald's. you wanted to become her friend but you were too shy to approach her that's why you planned on sharing your grapes with her that day. which is why your heart sank when you saw her hands about to take strawberry shortcake off your bag that has your grapes in it.

"i didn't mean to!" hazel started crying as well, her mouth and cheeks glistening under the light because of the lip balm. she was embarrassed that you caught her in the act and was nervous that you would hate her for eternity after this incident. after your mothers were called to school by miss sandy to discuss what happened and after hazel got scolded by her mother, the both of you found yourself sitting across each other in mcdonald's with your moms. mrs. callahan lightly nudged hazel to apologize, which hazel hesitantly did. "i'm sorry," she looked down at her lap, kicking her little feet as you stare at her.

"honey, what will you say?" your mom cooed, nodding towards hazel's direction. you didn't want to forgive her for what she did. that keychain was still yours and you're stingy when it comes to things that belongs to you. but then you felt bad because you wanted to be her friend and you'd gladly share your lip balm with her if only she had asked you in the first place.

she noticed that you took a pink item out of your mother's bag. it was the strawberry shortcake lip balm keychain. "let's share," you grinned as you hand her the keychain. hazel looked at you with wide eyes, her blue eyes shining in excitement. the two of you played in the playplace after that.

from then on, you and hazel were inseparable. every trip, every dinner, your family and hazel's family were together. the both of you would also have sleepovers at each other's place. most of the time, you preferred to stay over at hazel's. you would spend hours on playing tekken or grand theft auto or bratz on her playstation before getting scolded by mrs. callahan for staying up late.

as years went on, your friendship grew closer and closer until it doesn't feel like friendship anymore. hazel was the first one to have this epiphany back in ninth grade. she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment but one day, everything about you seemed loud; in a good way. you were radiating like sunbeams in the sky, blinding hazel by your beauty and your presence. since then, she keeps forgetting that you've been friends for years. who could blame her. you always took her breath away every time you'd smile.

confused at this newfound feeling, hazel decided to keep this feeling all to herself. after all, it would probably go away soon enough.

she thought it would go away. she really hoped it would. but it never did. there have been multiple instances where she was so close to confessing, but the fear of getting hurt by your rejection and the fear of your friendship ending would always stop her from doing so.

you realized that you were falling for hazel during the year the fight club was created. you were inseparable up until this point in your lives as she became more busy and involved with the club as one of its founding members. when she invited you to join, you rejected her invitation, joking that you don't want to ruin your beautiful face. she somehow took this joke very seriously and distanced you from the club, eventually distancing herself in the process. this, of course, hurted you but it didn't come as a surprise. hazel seemed to be walking on eggshells around you. at first, you thought nothing of it. you became concerned when it continued after that. you found it weird as she had never acted that way before but you brushed it off, assuming it was nothing.

it was lonely without her and it would be a lie to say that you weren't jealous of her club. she's your best friend since kindergarten, why is she spending more time with them than you? they don't know her like you do. from your point of view, it seemed like she was too engrossed in the club that she forgot that you existed. but from her point of view, she was suffering from not hanging out with you despite preoccupying herself with the club to get you out of her mind, that same feeling still lingering in her chest.

you took care of hazel when she got beaten up by tucker. mrs. callahan— who's now different in your eyes after learning that she was sleeping with jeff —was glad that her "daughters" were hanging out again, recalling that time you poured alcohol on the cut on hazel's knee. unlike before, you were more gentle at cleaning the multiple cuts on her swollen face.

the sight ultimately broke you. you could still hear her head making contact with the gymasium floor, making you wince every time you remembered it. you wanted to run towards her, shield her from the big white guy— seriously, why the fuck is he not expelled yet? this school is a joke, you thought. but he was tucker and he was caged for a reason, and you don't know a thing or two about self defense. all you could do was watch in fear.

on the second night of your so-called "shift", you sat at the corner of her bed after putting away the ice pack and the antiseptics to see if she's in any discomfort while sleeping. she looked peaceful in her slumber despite her swollen eyelids painted in disgusting red, black and blue hues. you just wished that the healing process would speed up so that you could see her bright eyes again. your eyes travelled down to her parted lips, finding yourself staring at it for a long amount of time. you were aware of hazel's unbroken routine of always applying lip balm which obviously started back when you were little but this was the first time that you noticed how soft they looked. you wondered what her lips would feel like on your—

you were snapped out of your daydream when hazel stirred in her sleep, making you abruptly but gently standing up from her bed to avoid interrupting her rest. what was that about? you don't just randomly daydream about kissing your friend, especially when they're in a horrible state. cringing internally, you laid down on the sleeping bag on the floor, shutting your eyes so you could quickly fall asleep and forget about your thoughts. this is normal right? right?

you were in denial the whole time you were at hers, attempting to be your usual self around her. but because of your recent thoughts, you found yourself unintentionally hesitant and self conscious with your actions. you were pretty sure that her fight club friends— minus pj and josie —found you weird for checking on her band-aids every minute and for acting like a mom the whole time they were over. but they were nice and you despised yourself for not liking them in the first place.

hazel was thankful that you stayed by her side and took care of her no matter how distant she became. she wasn't proud of what she did and apologized to you after the fight club left her house, leaving the both of you alone in the living room. "it's not a big deal," you wearily smiled. she hoped that you weren't tired of her.

you and hazel hung out like you used to. playing games until early in the morning, talking shit about the people you hated in school, cooking in the middle of the night. she even invited you to watch the football game against huntington with her. it's been awhile since the both of you went out together. this made you happy. maybe the previous thoughts that you had were only because you missed your dear friend. it was nothing.

you thought it was nothing. but when you saw pj and hazel making out in front of you, you felt like you were going to puke. you hurriedly left the bleachers and ran all the way home. your heart was clenching in your chest and you couldn't help the tears from streaming down your face. why did it hurt so much? why did you have to see it? you wished that you never met her in the first place. that you didn't become friends. if you did, maybe this wouldn't have happened. you stopped running as your legs made contact with the ground, heaving as you did so.

during the following weeks, you were now avoiding hazel. you shut down all of her attempts trying to talk to you, wanting to ask you about your whereabouts that night after they knocked out all of the football players. hazel was beyond frustrated that you were ignoring her calls and messages. she tried ambushing you in the classes that you both shared and didn't share together, but you had somehow left the classroom without her noticing.

after the fourth week, hazel finally got you cornered at your house. screw your mom for being so fond of her. your house lacks female solidarity.

"why have you been ignoring me?" hazel spoke after glaring at you intensely that you're pretty sure if she was a deadly laser right now, your skeleton will be left behind. you looked away from her eyes and stared at your pillows. you were both standing in the middle of the room, your arms crossed over your chests.

you shook her head and muttered, "you wouldn't understand." you don't want to let her know that you like her more than a friend. you don't want to get in between her and pj's relationship. you don't want to be that kind of girl.

hazel huffed and rolled her eyes, her hands now resting on her hips and her tongue pressing against the insides of her cheeks. "oh i'd love to understand why you decided to ignore me out of fucking nowhere."

your brows furrowed as you stepped a little closer. "that's ironic," you chuckled at her. "like you didn't ignore me when you started your little fight club."

her eyes widened a little bit. hazel was thrown off at what you said, the knot in her stomach getting tighter. "no, i—"

"wow..." you breathed out, shaking your head in disbelief. "so it's only okay when you do it?"

"you didn't talk to me!" she stepped closer.

"you didn't talk to me either!" you stepped closer. hazel could see that your eyes were filled with rage. bottled up emotions from when she was ignoring you started to peek through. "if you were going to ignore me for pj, you could've just fucking told me! you could've been honest!"

she cocked her head to the side. "pj? what does pj have to do with this?"

you stepped back and paced the room, one hand on your hips and the other on your forehead. hazel was confused when you brought up pj. sure, they kissed, but it was for a distraction. the whole time she was kissing her, you were on her mind. but of course, you don't know that.

"you didn't have to hide your girlfriend, hazel."

huh? hazel thought. "what girlfriend?"

now you were confused. "pj? i mean... you guys made out in front of the entire school—"

"that was for a distraction!" hazel then started pacing around the room while you stopped and watched her.

"distraction for what?!"

"huntington was about to kill jeff by spraying pineapple across the field during the game," hazel explained while you try to search for any lies in her eyes and words. "my bomb didn't work so we needed another distraction to stall the game— wait, shouldn't you know this? weren't you at the game?"

you swallowed and wiped your hands on your shorts, trying to calm yourself down and not cringe at what you're about to say next. "i left... when you and pj... y'know..."

hazel took a step closer to where you were. "why'd you leave?"

"because..." you stuttered, looking at anywhere but in front of you, words stuck in your throat as she took another step closer. "you wouldn't want to know."

"tell me," her voice dropped into a whisper, now only inches away from you, blue eyes piercing into yours. "why'd you leave?"

you took a deep breath and pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself and everyone in the world. "i couldn't stand watching you kiss pj."

"why?" she took one step closer.

"because i like you." closer.

"of course you do," she chuckled and walked once more until her face is centimeters away from yours. "it'd be weird for our friendship if you don't."

she didn't want to jump into conclusions. you wanted to rip your hair out at her obliviousness. you could feel her breath on your face. her eyes glancing at your lips. the both of you wanted to let each other know about your feelings, your sweet intentions. but you were afraid that it'll be sour, bitter. that your emotions are still unripe.

"hazel... you don't understand—"

"make me."

with that, you closed the space that was in between you both, connecting your lips to her soft ones. it felt right. it wasn't sour. the kiss was gentle and sweet, much like a strawberry shortcake lip balm.

AAAAAA ive been writing this one for awhile i hope u liked it!! ;v;

[lovebugism]

hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day. 

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk. 

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house. 

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it. 

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent. 

It makes his heart swell. 

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him. 

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done. 

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating. 

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.” 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him. 

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked. 

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?” 

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you. 

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you. 

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him. 

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him. 

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around. 

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

[vase-of-lilies]

… for the tiny tiger au. How about Wanda and Nat freaking out thinking that R got out. Which we did, we’re alone outside. But instead of running like they think we did, we found a baby fox and start poking it and what not to see if it’s alive (cause it’s sleeping) and thinking it’s cute we bring it back to mommy and mama who are in hysterics trying to find out where we went, only to turn when tapped to find us covered in mud/dirt presenting the new friend we have to them, wide eyed kan we eep em? Mommy mama pweeesss?

Nat and Wanda don’t know what to do side eyeing one another because they don’t want their baby to cry, but also. It’s a fox.

Muddy Buddies

Paring: Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Little!Reader x Momma!Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: this is a dark AU, wandering off into the woods, finding a friend, fluff, heavy MD/LG, needles, rabies shots

A/N: This immediately reminds me of this video I saw where this kid found a raccoon and is crying because she can’t take him home 😭 Another small drabble for Into The Tiny Verse:) Also, I'm so sorry. I am so tired so if it sounds like a 10-year-old wrote this (my vocab sucks when I'm tired) then just- Idk bear with me here 😭

Your little self was none the wiser when an opportunity to go outside came up. You didn't have any intention of escaping from your new caregivers, all you wanted to do was go on an adventure with your lion! And when this opportunity came up, you took it.

Natasha had just returned from her trip to town, grocery bags in her arms. Usually, she was much better at keeping an eye on you when Wanda was busy, and when she didn't see you come running to the door to say hi to her, she figured you were asleep or with your mommy.

At this point, you were now a couple feet into the forest surrounding the cabin. Not wanting to scare your mommies, you never lost sight of the house. That is until a little hint of orange just a little further inside the trees caught your eye.

Your curiosity moved your feet closer to the unknown blob of color, and once you saw it you let out a soft gasp. Your hand covered your mouth and you moved just a little closer.

It was a baby fox!

Looking around, you grab a stick with some leaves still on it and you kneel down next to the still fox. Is it dead? Your head pushes. Why isn't the mother here? Another question you ask yourself. With the stick in your hand, you gently poke the soft bum of the fox. The animal twitches, and you jump in surprise. Dropping the stick, you crawl to it, not caring about the mud on your pants or hands.

The small fox squeaks, and opens her little eyes, looking up at you. However, it did not run away. Instead, she yawned and got up from her position on the muddy forest floor. She stretches and even approaches you. Carefully, you hold your hand out and you smile as the fox's wet nose sniffs your fingers.

"Aren't chu jus' the chutest ting?" You whisper, scratching the fox's chin. "Yous name is Butto! (Butter)"

Butter lets out a small whine and a raspy bark, and you pick her up. She looks around as you stand up with her, and she slightly starts to struggle. You hold her comfortably tight, and you walk quickly back to the cabin.

Upon entering the cabin once again, you hear your mommies' worried voices. They shouldn't be worried... I'm right here! They don't hear you come in through the front door, too focused on reviewing the camera footage from outside of the warm abode. The two women don't even hear you enter their office!

Holding Butter and Leo (your lion) in one arm, you gently tap Wanda's shoulder to get her attention with the other hand. Her head snaps to the side, her eyes widening when she sees you. "Tiny! Oh my- Oh, and tiny's friend..." She says with a hesitant laugh, pulling her hands away from your muddy self and your muddy friend.

You tilt your head at her reaction to you but shake it off to ask the more important question at hand. You look up at the woman with doe eyes, "kan we eep em? Mommy mama pweeesss?" Wanda and Nat look at each other, surprised to say the least, but not wanting to hear you cry if they take your friend away.

"Who- uh- who is this, little one?" Natasha says, looking down at the fox in your arms.

"Her name Butto'" You say nonchalantly, as if it was just a new stuffed animal.

"Butter?" Wanda confirms and looks at her wife, eyes wide and asking for some type of support. Natasha can’t help but chuckle, and she kneels down in front of you.

“Tiny, I know this little one looks like a friend, but these little guys are tedious. They aren’t very friendly,” Nat frowns, starting to take the fox from your arms.

“Nnnnooooo! No she fren, mama, she nice,” you protest, pulling yourself away from the woman. “She tan stay wif me in m’room, and she can snuggle wif us!”

Wanda and Natasha devise a plan to get the little fox away from you and back to its mother, and they do that by putting you outside with Butter. In the backyard of course.

Butter in fact wasn’t nice. She scratched you, bit you, and made you cry, but your intentions on keeping her never wavered. Your little brain was just seeing another friend, and that’s all you thought this little fox was.

Wanda offered you a deal. “How about we make a trade?” She asks with a smile. “How about I take Butter, and you take Pancakes?” Your mommy pulls a plush fox from behind her back, and you tilt your head. “Just like you need mommy to take care of you, so does little Butter, and we need to get her back to her mommy.” Wanda says, and you start to understand.

“Butter has mommy too?” You ask, tears forming in your eyes at the thought of being taken away from your caretakers. Wanda nods softly and takes Butter from your hands.

“Yeah, so let’s get her back to her home and we can play with Pancakes all night. How does that sound?” Wanda asks you, finally pulling the baby fox from your scratched up hands.

Natasha had contacted Bruce Banner. He may be a human doctor, but he knows where this little fox can go to get real care. He even said that you and your mommies could visit her too! While Wanda held you in her arms, Natasha was distracting you while Bruce gave you a few rabies shots, and a few other vaccines to help you stay healthy after touching a wild animal.

You were not a fan of needles, and the two women knew that.

As you waved goodbye to Bruce and Butter, you sighed softly. “Butto’ sc’atched me,” you sniffle, looking down at your hands that now stung.

“Oh honey, it’s ok, let’s go get you cleaned up for dinner, ok?” Wanda says, picking you up bridal-style and taking you to the bathroom to wash up.

Once your bath was finished, Wanda bandaged your hands and arms and got you all warmed up in your pjs. After dinner, your mommies kept their promise and you played with your new (fluff-filled) friend until you fell asleep!

“We need to watch her carefully…” Natasha chuckles, stroking her knuckle over your sleeping face.

Wanda nods, “Agreed!”

[bunnylove1]

.•Vox HC•.

•.~vox x bimbo!reader/vox x fem!reader

•.~warnings! Smut! Fluff! And some sensitive words! NOT PROOFED 

•.~how have I not done a vox x reader on my account yet he’s literally my husband ANYWAYS enjoying baby’s!

•Vox loves when you give him your big doe eyes he finds them to be your sweetest feature

•If your talking to someone who’s way to touchy but your little brain cant realise it he’ll grab your hips and pull you close to him and he’ll introduce himself to the person that was grabby “hi I’m Vox the owner of Vox tech see you’ve meet my girlfriend”

•When he’s working he lets you and Velvette to hang out knowing you and her both like fashion he thinks it’s good for you to be around someone who likes the same things you do “baby you can go help vel with her new line she doesn’t mind, don’t go out of her sight got it” he most definitely tells Velvette to not let you wonder without her there 

•He knows your not stupid (maybe a little)  just a little (A-LOT)  oblivious so he keeps you close weather it’s around others or around the towns of hell

•He calls you: “Bambi”, “Sweetheart”, “Sweetie”, “Sugar”, “My little girl”, “sweet cake” “baby cakes”, My whore”,   “Baby”, “Slut”, sometimes “Dirty girl”

•He LOVES when it’s night and you both can’t sleep so y’all are in the kitchen getting glass of water and your sitting on the counter babbling your little head off and he just goes “Baby, why don’t you drink this and rest your pretty little head huh?” MAKES ME CRUMBLE 

•Vox never EVER lets you near Val, he knows you and Val to well. “No baby you can’t talk to him” “but vox whyyyyy” “because I said so”

•If you have to be in a room with Val, Vox has you stuck to his hip no matter what “No little girl you stay near me okay”

•He loves when your babbling whatever you heard today while helping vel or whatever you watched on tv and Vox just simply kisses you to shut you up

•He loves walking around hell with you, it feeds his ego knowing that the sinners around hell would kill to have a taste of you but your Voxs and everyone knows that and he loves that he feeds off of it

•Now if you say something bratty or start having an attitude he will not hesitate to put your pretty mouth to work “Aww look all that big talks gone now that you have daddy’s cock huh?” 

•MASSIVE DADDY KINK can’t tell me other wise

•He loves when you wear your short skirts but he will not let you wear them out unless your expecting a hell of a night from him

•He likes when you wear a choker with his initials on it 

•everyone knows when yall had a intimate night because you have dark purple spots big and small everywhere on you and big teeth marks everywhere as well

•I have this head cannon that Vox doesn’t let you leave things on him one he’s a big owner and needs to look professional and two he likes being the only one to do that 

•he’ll let you leave small bits but nothing to much but that’s only on good days 

•Vox likes to dress you up, mostly like him but still in your bimbo look he liked matching he finds it endearing 

•when Voxs comes home stressed from one of vals temper tantrums he likes to use you like a big fluffy pillow and just cuddle you 

•never lets you drink while your out unless it’s a special celebration but even then you have to be supervised, can’t let his sweet girl get spiked can we?

•he has a huge turn on for public sex idk why but I think he likes the feeling of being caught/ being watched letting everyone now you are owned by him and him only

•He’ll carry your heels if your feet hurt and even carry you princess style 

•I feel like he knows how to do hair there’s no way vel hasn’t taught him, so he likes doing your hair in the mornings 

•he likes to pat your head for no reason just likes how your shorter than him so he just kinda does it 

•vox definitely likes to fuck you silly, likes seeing you drool and become a mess in front of him 

•he likes giving you baths, cause he can’t himself so he likes to wash your hair and wash your body take a load off of you 

•he’ll let you dress him up time to time 

•has a special seat for you while he’s doing a commercial or anything on tv. It’s always next to him 

•he has a good memory unlike you so he tells you what you need to grab or what you forgot you were doing and what time it is and what your doing today, basically a human calendar

•.~I DID IT OMG, I know some of them went just for bimbo reader so it’s like bimbo reader and just box head cannons, I love you darlings thank you for reading!

[sebsbarnes]

i a d o r e the way u write tan it’s just so akdkdkdkkfkfkf gawd

there’s this scenario that has been stuck in my head so i’d like to request a tan x reader where both r contract killers and they r both in a mission somewhere in the south of italy or france during summer, and right after their mission they r in an empty beach and it’s sunny and warm and reader suggests swimming but tan is like miss girl what if they catch up to us or whatever like he’s a lil hesitant cuz they aren’t that far away from the place where the mission took place idk?? but ends up accepting after seeing her stripping into her underwear and stepping into the water being all giggly and happy

and just them having fun and giggling and maybe heated make out sess 👁️ feel free to change anything or not write it if u can’t it’s completely fine <333

love u❤️

hii!! thank you omg! this idea is SO cute and dare i say i kinda am obsessed w what i wrote so thank you! so much love<3

sunlight || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

alt summary: though the moon would watch over him, he knew the sun was far closer to him because you were in his arms.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

"don't be ridiculous," tangerine paused, seeking to see if you were serious.

"does it seem like i'm joking? when do we get this?" you gestured with open arms.

tangerine sighed looking out at the water, it was tempting, like a siren singing his name. you took his silence as acceptance and grinned widely, turning to walk off the pavement and into the sand. he trailed behind you, watching you kick sand up and smile as the breeze took it away.

"we... we shouldn't stay too long, love," tangerine said uneasily, eyes wandering over the sleepy beach town, "they aren't that far away."

"tan," you laughed, kicking off your shoes, "those men are not coming for us okay? besides, they'd never think we would be stupid enough to stop for a swim just two blocks away from where we just kicked their asses."

his shoulders relaxed slightly realizing that what you said was true. you on the other hand were taking full advantage of the beach, you unbuttoned your pants and wiggled your hips to move them off your body. tangerine's eyes quickly darted away as you stood in your shirt and underwear. he leaned down, slid off his dress shoes, and tucked his socks neatly inside. when he stood up he was hit in the face with your shirt. tangerine removed the shirt from his face and gave you a pointed look and you gave him a teasing smile back.

he couldn't help his eyes wander down your body. the contours and curves of your skin on full display in your bra and underwear. he was grateful the sun was still minutes from breaking the horizon to hide his red face. you walked into the water gasping at the coldness on your ankles and tangerine opted to observe from the shoreline.

in that moment he swore he'd never seen a sight more beautiful. the sun peeked over the horizon casting an array of colors, signaling a new day. blushes of orange and pink danced up into the sky and faded into a light blue, the rays illuminated the water and he could see the mist from the colliding waves. the sun was bright and your body was merely a silhouette in the light. he watched the way your hair bounced as you jogged into the shallow water. you turned to face him and tangerine felt short of breath. even from the distance, he could see the hidden specks of color in the iris of your eyes as the sun hit the side of your face. the golden rays danced across your skin and the soft rolling waves lapped at your thighs.

tangerine was at a loss for words, enamored at your beauty which was being amplified by the light of a new day. he felt honored to be in the presence of such a marvel that it almost seemed unjust that it was only his eyes witnessing it. if he had a camera he would photograph the sight before him from every angle, sure to not miss even an inch of beauty. it would be a photograph worthy to be hung in a museum for millions to gaze at for years to come. they'd awe at the colors of the sky and murmur how beautiful dawn looked, but you, you were the show stopper that left everyone admiring your beauty and longed for the love the photographer had for you.

"tan!" he heard you giggle over the noise of seagulls flying past, "come on!"

tangerine inched forward so the waves brushed against his feet. he sighed, peering over his shoulder. there was no one in sight and even if the men from the job came running at him now with guns pointed to his head, he'd die happy knowing he had seen the most beautiful sight in the world. so, he unbuckled his belt and slipped his legs out of his pants. his fingers worked on the button of his shirt as he watched you dip your head backward to wet your hair. he tossed his shirt on top of his pants and walked into the water. tangerine crouched into the water next to you, your eyes closed, basking in the rising sun.

you felt the water ripple next to you and looked over at tangerine. his eyes were dancing across the horizon, the golden light glowing across his face. you could see the tiny brown freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and every individual eyelash from the light. tangerine turned toward you and his eyes were dauntingly beautiful in the rays. he ran a wet hand through his hair and his curls fell seemingly into place.

"you are absolutely breathtaking," his voice low as if the water told him to be quiet.

you tilted your chin down, slightly embarrassed. tangerine looked at you in anticipation, worried about his confession. you crouched down in the water to be level with him and grabbed his hand floating under the water.

"thank you, tan, and i hope you know how handsome you are," you grinned.

he shook his head lightly, known for being awful at taking compliments, "thank you, darling."

the two of you went quiet as your eyes danced over each other's faces. his eyes kept lingering over your lips and you took the silent cue to inch closer to his body. his arms snaked around your waist and your legs floated up to tangle around his body. the heat from the sun was nearly as hot as the nerves in your body. tangerine and you slowly started to close the space, noses bumping. his lips were slightly parted and ghosted over yours.

"can i kiss you?" he whispered, looking at you through his lashes.

your hand wandered to the back of his head, gently grabbing his curly hair and finally connecting your lips. it was soft, like the waves touching your skin. his lips tasted of sea salt and his facial hair tickled at your face. it was pure bliss and it made you dizzy as if you were seasick. tangerine pulled you closer to his body so your chests were pressed against one another. his hand cradled your face and your lower back with your arms draped over his shoulders. as the waves rolled in harder the kiss became more feverish like it was outrunning the light of dawn and you felt your lungs pleading for air. tangerine gently pulled away, your bottom lip between his teeth. he rested his forehead against yours and a tiny giggle bubbled up your chest.

"let's just stay here all day," tangerine whispered, his thumb brushing off droplets of water on your face.

tangerine would gladly sit here in the clear water till his fingers wrinkled and his skin toasted under the sun. he'd happily watch the colors of dawn fade and trade itself with the dark of night. though the moon would watch over him, he knew the sun was far closer to him because you were in his arms.

[magicxc]

Frenemies

Pairings: Survey Corps - people they cannot STAND

Word Count: 1076

Warnings: none

A/N: Idk man I love a good tussle jskksks. Like give me two characters who absolutely hate each other! And with AOT I really don't have to look too far, yay. This is basically canon but it's funny to think about so here it is as well. 

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren  - Jean, Weak People

I think the Jean one gets over exaggerated a little, and for good reason too, cause the girlies be EATING with those tropes. But at the end of the day they have a mutual understanding and are cordial at best. They're mostly cool because they share mutual friends and spaces but it’s no longer beef per se. 

Hear me out, I don't think anyone wiping out 80% of humanity is willing to kick it with people who aint about it. Mans need someone who’s willing to stand on business behind him. Even throughout the show he’s always admitted to not liking people who’s willing to live like “livestock.” So this is not to be confused with physically weak people by the way but psychologically weak people. Essentially Eren has beef if you’re willing to take it lying down. 

Levi - Zeke

Listennnn I LIVE for their fight scenes okay lmao. Like it's almost always on sight for them and their lil jabs at one another? It’s chucklessss for me omg. Lets be clear, their beef is absolutely warranted. It can be safely argued that Levi doesnt really care for most people but Zeke?? Oh baby its all smoke for him. 

Erwin - The Government 

I swear if it wasn't for the literal fate of humanity and his brewing theory Erwin would've just said fuck it cause baybeeee, they wanted that man GONE. They've tried to get him fired, pointed guns in his face, and built a whole ass guillotine to unalive him; in front of the entire town mind you. Maybe that was the custom back then I don't know. I don’t remember Erwin outright saying that he doesn't fuck with the government but fuck it, I’ll say it for him. Cause I'll stand ten toes down behind this one here. 

Connie - Ymir

I promise you I let out a nasty ole chuckle at the thought cause he don't even dislike her fr fr. I think it's a situation similar to Eren and Jean's in the sense that their friends and environment often see them in the same places. Because if we’re being real, not only do they have little in common but they just don't really vibe like that. I think they could've been a little more cordial but Ymir be on her own timing and it's usually at the expense of the squad. Like when she made fun of Connie for suspecting his mother was a titan or when she kidnapped Historia like 3 times and put them all in danger. And I can't even be mad at Connie for being the voice of reason cause him calling her ugly was simply the truth. I, too, reared back when I first saw Ymir's titan form. 

Jean - Eren, Reiner, Annie, Bertholt

The whole Eren thing is basically squashed but it’s worth noting that if he were to see him in public, he’d walk the other way. 

I lowkey had to dig deep for this one cause I genuinely forgot. But even though they’re all kumbaya now, those three bitches literally watched his homie get half his face chewed off by a titan. Jean is absolutely pouring one out for Marco every birthday by the way, but yeahh it’s still fuck them. Like if they were playing uno stacked, he’d save all his draw 4’s and make them draw 16. 

Onyankopon - Yelena

I'm not too sure that Ony dislikes anyone honestly. But I'm going with Yelena here mostly because she’s the reason he found himself in his current predicament. On what was supposed to be a solid plan in motion to save his people quickly turned into Ony modernizing a primitive people, helping build their resources from scratch, having people question his race (and I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar it was mfs that got ignorant), seeming untrustworthy among his peers, almost getting killed, fighting in a war he had nothing to do with, and probably losing his entire family in the rumble. Now, one or two of those things were inevitable, but if you were to view things from Ony’s POV everything went to shit over a bitch with a fatal attraction to a man with daddy issues. 

Reiner - Himself

Lmaooo I LOVE a good Reiner drag. And while this started out as a joke, I'm deadass now. This man stays talking about wanting to end it all but never follows through, smh. With lots of therapy and support, I genuinely think that Reiner would be on the road to recovery and a healthy lifestyle; but there’ll always be that lingering thought on if he’s worth it or not

Honorable mention: Ymir. But solely because she would get in the way of his fantasy life with Historia. 

Armin - Floch? 

This munchkin is damn near Tanjiro levels of sweet cause omg who does he even hate??? He is always looking for the good in people and I'm about to dislocate my shoulder reaching this hard BUT, hear me out - It’s Floch even if he doesn’t outright say it. The same Floch who damaged the flying boat and almost ruined their mission before it even started? The same Floch who fucked it up so bad that Hange had to sacrifice herself which resulted in Armin taking on an even bigger responsibility? The same Floch who got in a lil too close with his bestie Eren? Close enough to be trusted with his future plans? The same Floch who when he lay on that ground bleeding Armin was nowhere in sight? Even at the port where they attacked the Yeagerists and Armin got shot in the face, he pleaded with his old comrades to stand down but Floch is beneath that level of reasoning huh? Whether Armin despises Floch or not it's safe to say if Floch were getting jumped, Armin would definitely sneak in a kick before helping. 

Floch - Erwin

This is literally one of those cases where its like I disagree but I understand lol. That man legit made them do a suicide charge and yeah he lead the charge blah blah blah but I could never be that brave. And so that resentment is understandable but in all fairness it shaped Flochs character for the better to be honest; cause that whole pwussy boi arc was annoying. 

Also adding the main cast of the Scouts lmao. They thwarted his plans and he spent his DYING breath standing on business. Gotta respect it.

Tags - @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

[coltrainbat]

Ari is divorced and moving out of the house to an apartment where he meets a happy married, reader with big breasts. Her husband is out of town one day, she and ari have intense sexual one night stand

Neighbours

A/N: I'm baaaaccckkkkk and as always I have something to say ☺️ I am in love with Ari Levinson. Great request but I have to ponder... If reader is “happily married” then why would she cheat? I feel like her being married adds absolutely nothing to the plot, so we are gonna change it to obsessed ex because like… mi no comprehend how happy = cheating. Also, I feel cheating can be triggering for some.

I also think I forgot how to write so please give feedback on this one, like why are some bits in past tense??? Idk I'm insecure validate me 🥺

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, oral (f receiving, m receiving), dirty talk, sex, orgasm, P in v, Daddy kink (naturally), hair pulling, spit, shitty exes, swearing.

You sat in your apartment, comfy on the couch and freshly single. While most people would see this as a great time to spend their Friday nights going to clubs, seeking for a new dick to get under – you found it the perfect time to bask in the freedom of having uninterrupted you time. That was until a knock at the door caught you off guard.

You sprung up with a groan, tip toeing to look through the peephole and find out who had the audacity to knock on your door at 10:30 on a Friday night.

“Brian” You muttered under your breath in a disdained tone.

Brian. Your whiny, dickish, loser ex. Who despite not having any concrete plans for life besides his regular Friday night strip club visit still thought you could prove yourself to be more “wife material’. By that he meant, on top of making dinner, picking him up at 2am from said strip club visits so he didn’t have to spend money on a Taxi. Safe to say, dumping him didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.

You pulled open the door, standing in your almost too small pyjama set. “Can I help you?”

“I think you can.” He gave you a sick smirk, closing the space between you by moving his hands towards your waist.

“Don’t fucking touch me Brian. We aren’t together.” Slapping his hand away.

“Don’t be a bitch, everyone hooks up with their ex.”

“Well, I don’t want so can you please leave?” You heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs from the lobby and you got anxious at the thought of a neighbour witnessing this cringe worthy altercation.  

“I’m not leaving until you let me in.” He moved his foot past the threshold of the door frame, to prevent you from closing the door on his face.

“Brian you can’t-“

“She said leave.” A foreign voice sounded from down the hallway cutting you off, both your heads flung to the source.

The tall, brooding man had only been your neighbour for a week, you passed by each other with tight smiles both of you too occupied to say hello. But that didn’t stop you from getting a good look at him. He was handsome in a ruggish way, often only sporting shorts and wife beaters, sweat forming on his head as he lugged boxes into his apartment. You noticed the gold band on his large finger, yet no man or wife in sight. Yet, today there was no ring and he had swapped the wife beater for a button up shirt and jeans.

“Who the fuck are you?” Brian spat at the man who could beat him to a pulp with minimal effort. Ah Brian, always so confident for a man whose dick was the size of your pinky.

Your hide your face in your hands in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

“Ari, now I suggest you leave her alone.” He moved closer to you both, slightly moving his body in front of you, blocking Brian from entering.

“She’s my girlfriend and this was our apartment so I think I can stay but thanks pal.” Brian sounded confident but his voice waivered as he cranked his neck to look up at Ari.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” Ari looked back at you, catching your eyes, giving you a soft smile.

“Well, that settles it so either you leave, or I make you leave.” Ari knelt a little, getting close to Brian’s face his voice was calm and level, but his eyes told Brian he wasn’t bluffing.

Brian huffed and made his way back down the hall, not before turning back “Enjoy her she’s a bitch but she’s slutty.”

Ari flashed a glowing smile and a prominent middle finger as he pushed his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

“You, ok?”

“I’m used to it but thank you for helping he wouldn’t have never left if you didn’t step in.”

“Don’t worry about it but you look like you need a stiff drink – got anything good?”

“Tequila?”

“Perfect.” He purred, following you as you made your way to your small bar cart, catching a glimpse of the soft skin that hang out slightly from your pyjama shorts.

You grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap;

“You know your wife’s really lucky to have you around.” You spoke as you poured two shots.

“Ex-wife.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be she was my equivalent of him.” You both chuckled at the mutual understanding of horrible exes.

“Y/N, by the way.” You spoke as you handed him the novelty shot glass.

“Good to finally put a name to my pretty neighbour.” You blushed as you clinked glasses, both downing the burning liquid in sync.

“Another?” You smirked at him.

1 shot turned into 4 as you and Ari sat on your couch, bonding over stories of your exes’ antics and anxieties about re-entering the dating scene. Both losing track of time as the hours fell into early morning. But neither of you felt tired, invigorated by your conversation and the upper coursing through your veins.

“She did not!” You hand fell to your mouth as Ari recounted the story of walking in on his ex fucking his friend on their kitchen counter.

“She did.” He nodded slowly, sipping his beer as he recalled on the sight.

“Well, she’s crazy. I mean, why would anyone cheat on you… when they have well… YOU. God, I mean if I had my own version of sexy Jesus at home, I’d never leave bed.” Ari’s eyes went dark at your bold comment as the image of you and him in bed clouding his mind.

You swallowed hard, realising the tequila was speaking for you and you had invertedly just admitted you found your neighbour hot.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to say you were hot, I mean yes you are hot but-“

“Sexy Jesus?”  He crocked an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I mean you know with the hair and beard... like… Jesus”

“I’m Jewish.”

“So, you could possibly be a descendent of Jesus then.” You tried to muffle the laugh threatening to spill as your nonsensical statement. But Ari beat you to it, reaching forward in a fit of laughter, his hand grabbing his pecs.

“You are something else Y/N… in a good way, I see why your ex showed up at your door.”

“What can I say I’m very addictive.” You twirled your hand along the rim of your glass, avoiding his prominent gaze.

“Was he telling the truth about that last comment?”

“That I’m his girlfriend? No no we definitely broke up.”

“No, I meant that you’re slutty.”

Your eyes widened and the mouthful of drink you just sipped threatened to spit out.

“I mean that depends…”

“On…?”

“On your definition of slutty.”

“I took it as you were good in the sack.” He was leaning back on the couch now, his long arms stretched along the back, his hand deathly close to your neck.

“I am not “good in the sack”, I am fucking great in the sack.” You leaned in closer to his figure on the last line, your face getting closer to his. Slowly placing your drink onto the coffee table.

He licked his lips in hunger, shortly before he closed the space between you two, his hand falling to your cheek to pull you closer.

You closed your eyes, relaxing into the soft feeling of his beard against your skin as you explored each other’s mouths.

In a swift motion, his mouth never leaving yours, he placed his drink next to yours, moving his hand back to you cup your ass that was slowly raising itself off the couch.

Moving his hand downwards, hooking your leg over his lap so your chest was now pressed against his button up shirt. Not satisfied at the feeling of fabric against you, you pulled away to undo the buttons, revealing his tanned, hairy chest and the shiny gold Star of David chain.

His chest heaved, watching you eagerly as you fiddled with the buttons. “Oh, fuck it!” You ripped his shirt to reveal the delectable abs hidden underneath. Your mouth returning to his as you ran your hands through his dark, shiny locks. He shimmied the rest of the flannel off, hands going to the hem of your cami, eager to reveal the plump, delicious tits, constrained by the fabric. With a final pull over your head, your breasts bounced, hard nipples falling in place against his chest.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out, pausing momentarily to admire the sight in front of him. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin down your neck towards your breasts.

His hands cupped the supple flesh, bringing it to his mouth as he sucked delicately on the hard nib. His eyes looked up at you past his long lashes as your head fell back in pleasure.

He moaned as your pulled on his hair. His hands, took a firm grip of your ass, raising his hips slightly, flipping you on your back with ease, you lay exposed across the couch. Leaping up to undo the zip of his jeans, shoes long discarded he stepped out of the worn denim. Your hands grabbed at the clothed, outline of his cock in his briefs, eager to taste the hunky man. Positioning yourself at the edge of the couch. Ari crouched his knees slightly, noting his height, eager to let you at your want.

Revealing his cock, your eyes widened at his size, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen and much bigger than Brian. You grabbed his base, kitty licking at the plump head, catching the loose drops of pre-cum that oozed from his red slit.

“Fuck Y/N, I knew you knew your way around a cock.” You smirked up at him as his hands pulled your hair into a ponytail, taking the hair tie from his wrist and securing it.

You placed the thick head in your mouth, pushing your spit onto his cock as you ran your lips up and past the head.

“You think you can take the whole thing baby?” He quipped at you.

Giving him a small nod, you opened your mouth wider, flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock as you slowly moved you head forward to let his cock push down your throat.

“Fuck baby! That’s it.” Ari’s hands clutched your ponytail tightly, edging his hips towards your head slowly.

You pulled out, looking up at him, with spit smothered around your lips “Don’t hold back Daddy.” Ari groaned roughly, head falling back at the sight of the beautiful woman on her knees in front of him calling him such a salacious name. It was all he needed to roughly fuck your throat, the sounds of your gags and wet, sloppy punctures filling the room.

He pulled your head back by your ponytail, you whined at the loss of his cock.

“You’re so good at it baby but I need that pussy.” He looked down on you with awe. You nodded, shuffling back onto the couch. Ari fell to his knees, head inches away from your pussy as he helped you pull your shorts down.

His mouth immediately went between your thighs, spitting on your exposed cunt before flattening his large tongue on your heat, leaving a long strip of warm, wetness from the skin above your ass to the tip of your clit. Sucking on the sensitive pearl as you mewled at the sensation. He moved downwards, nudging the tip of his tongue at your weeping hole as his beard brushed against your sensitive clit creating a sensation you have never experienced but was addictive. The bristles moving roughly against any inch of exposed skin.

“Ari please I need it!” You begged as you pushed his head closer to your core.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away to look up at your flushed face, sweat formed on your forehead. “What’d you call me?”

“Daddy, please fuck me.” You looked into his deep blue eyes, need in your voice.

“That’s better.” He smirked up at you, moving upwards to join you on the couch. You pulled him closer desperate to taste yourself on his lips. His movements slowed as he moved his hand to support your head pulling it back slightly to get deeper into the kiss.

Between the rushed, desperation appeared a moment of deep intimacy and want for the person in front of you. He grabbed his cock in his hand and slowly glided it through your wet folds, catching your deep moan as his length filled your tight, velvety interior.

Slowly, he moved in and out, eager not to go too far out and lose the sensation of finally being inside of you.

Letting out a deep groan as you ran your nails down his back, leaving long, red marks.

“Harder Daddy please… I need it.”

He looked at you, strands of sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, dipping his head down to give you a soft, wet kiss, pulling out, he grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, opening your mouth slightly as he spit roughly down your throat. You swallowed his spit greedily, flashing him an innocent smile which quickly faded as he pulled out to the edges of your entrance and thrusted roughly back in. You gasped at the sudden hit of his bulbous tip at your cervix. The repeated assault at your most sensitive core caused the coil inside you to tighten, your desperately grabbed at his large arms for stability, nails digging into his hard skin as your release rushed out of you and seeped down his length.

“That’s its baby let it out, fuck that makes me close.” His eyes darted between your two sexes, watching as the cream wrapped around his base like a decorative bow. His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his high, savouring the feeling of being inside of you amongst your juices.

He collapsed into the warm embrace of your chest, softly kissing the supple skin of your breast as you both breathed heavy post the best sex of your lives. As his now limp cock fell out of you along with the sticky, hot mix of your release.

Your eyes squinted at the sudden realisation of light pouring through your window, releasing it was now sunrise, tiredness took over you.

You shook the heavy man on you “Ari, it’s morning, do you want to come back to bed with me?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He steadied himself by his arms on either side of your head as he rose. Holding out his hand to help your shaky figure up and into the bedroom. Arms forming a tight grip on your hips as you hobbled towards your bed.

You both collapsing, ready to enjoy a well-deserved sleep.

[twstjam]

I have some writing juices today but idk if I'll finish something enough to post so here are some "Malleyuu scenes I can see vividly in my head and really want to write but haven't gotten around to yet" because who knows WHEN if ever I'll write these.

(DISCLAIMER: It's not specified but these are all set in aus!! Canon compliance? I'm sure she's lovely but I don't know her)

Scene where Yuu wakes up in the Draconias' castle after being rescued by Prince Malleus (secretly their bestie Tsunotarou) and they get dragged around by the castle staff into a warm bath, fitted into fancy castle clothes, and guided to an extravagant dining table to have a mouth-watering breakfast. Everyone is making a fuss about how Yuu is the prince's special guest so they HAVE to be served flawlessly and have all their needs met, meanwhile Yuu is just. Incredibly confused.

Scene where Yuu gets attacked/kidnapped and the Heartslabyul boys are there to save them, but suddenly a bigass dragon shows up out of nowhere and ofc everyone is scared shitless. The dragon fucks up the attackers/kidnappers so Heartslabyul and Yuu take their chance to flee. Before they can get away though, the dragon swoops down on them. They all drop to the ground, but the dragon manages to snatch up Yuu in its claws (with Grim squished in there too) and flies off with them.

Yuu gets kidnapped part 2: Heartslabyul FREAKS out bcs of course they do their friend just got yoinked by a DRAGON. But when Adeuce go to save them (against Riddle's orders ofc. It's too dangerous and he didn't wanna risk losing them too 🥺) they're unexpectedly welcomed into the Draconias' castle and instead of seeing their friends in peril like they expected, they stumble upon the strange sight of Yuu and Grim living luxuriously; being fed the most delicious foods, sleeping on the silkiest sheets, and being dressed in the finest clothes. Neither Yuu and Grim know wtf is going on either but they're not complaining.

Scene where Yuu gets a message from their friend Tsunotarou to evacuate the people of their town. Tsunotarou doesn't explain why, but Yuu trusts him so they do as he says. After evacuating, Yuu along with the townsfolk watch from afar as an army of fae led by dragons descend upon the kingdom.

Possible part 2 to the previous one? The country's been liberated from the tyrant king or whatever and the fae are helping the humans get back on their feet or smthg. Anyways scene where Yuu is either: a) summoned to stand before the fae royalty (THE DRAGONS) b) VISITED by the fae royalty (still THE DRAGONS) and for both they think they're in big trouble for whatever reason but then PLOT TWIST one of the dragons is TSUNOTAROU!!!! (these two last ones could fit into my one-shot "Break in the Clouds" actually :O)

[shrimpsalot]

Oh gawd I dreamt of quite a weird AU(?) last night so yapping ahead!!

So for whatever reason instead of getting a full ss3, we just get random episodes here and there about their 11th-12th year? Randy and Howard's relationship r still ride or die but they managed to form a bigger friend circle with Theresa, Debbie, Julian, Bucky and Rachel and often have lunch together in a more darker gloomier version of the cafeteria (think it's just my irl school cafeteria that got projected into my dreams 😭 but for shits and giggles let's say Slimovitz ran out of budget to fix it completely after another monster attack). Unfortunately there was an assignment in class that put Howard and Debbie in the same group, idk about everyone else, and they have to research about stuff like Ninja's Japan origins, tactics, fighting techniques, types of weapons he used etc. Ofc no one knows it better than randy (and kinda howard) so when they were fighting about it during lunch, Randy just casually went "no actually because if you maneuver your body like that you wouldn't ensure a safe landing and might twist your ankle, also the chain sickle is used more as a defensive weapon such as blocking a sword, locking the opponent's weapon in place and potentially yanking it towards you, and did you know smoke bombs are crafted wit-" accidentally yapping about things Nomicon taught him until Howard cuts in to save his butt "see Debbie, even Cunningham's more knowledgeable about the ninja you sure you've been studying him properly for your reports?" which re-enabled their argument and divert the attention away from randy(which he's gonna thank Howard for later). A bit of time later an attack happen in town while they were working on the assignment in the cafeteria after school, Randy ofc had to leave but it'd be suspicious so he made an excuse maybe smth along the lines of they can learn more by watching the ninja fight and everyon agreed. Again he separated from them mid-walk to do some ninja-ing, which worried theresa that he's nowhere to be seen while Howard and Debbie is still fighting about their research. Howard couldn't take it anymore as well as lowkey bothered by Theresa so he called randy to prove that he's safe, AND to call for backup on his ninja knowledge. The phone call was the same vibe as ones in the show and while Howard was too engrossed on the convo, Ninja!Randy holding the phone answering while fighting got launched backwards to the front of the alleyway where the group was but randy didn't see them so he was unaware that they heard the phone convo. When he was finished and transformed back, he immediately ran into them after turning a corner and the first thing he said is "heeyyyy uh so I got a lil lost where were you guys? Ahaha" all for Debbie to respond with a shocked expression "YOU'RE the ninja?!?"

"what?? Nooooo I I am definitely not the Ninja psshh what makes you say that? I'm just a lil ol me Randy that's right there's no ninja here-", Theresa then explained they overheard his phone call and Randy gave in, only to be slightly offended to see Bucky looking defeated and handing Rachel $5. Cartoon scene cut and we see randy on his hands and knees in front of debbie(nothing too serious its like those comedy anime gags type of pose)

"What a sight. An 800 year old ninja vs the power of journalism." Bucky tries to lighten up the mood. Randy is begging Debbie not to write about this (for the second time) and she's having a hard time accepting (again) so she asked "what if I do write it? What would you do?" making randy look up at her with a serious face without saying anything, causing slight misunderstanding

"y-you're gonna erase me?!"

"what?? No ofc not I was just gonna mind wipe you!!!"

"mind wipe?"

"uh I mean-"

"what, by using that book that you sometimes drool on while being unconscious?"

"W-what book?-"

"is that like an 800 year old ancient ninja book of wisdom?"

"HOW ARE YOU STILL GOOD AT THIS???"

"wait 'still'?"

"CUNNINGHAM WILL YOU STOP TALKING SHE FEEDS ON YOUR ANSWERS" Howard shouted from the side

"do you mean you've mind wiped me before??"

"huh is it that time in 9th grade where you broadcasted to the whole town that he's the ninja which turned out to be false?" Rachel questioned

"I did what in 9th grade?????"

"... Debbie please" Randy pleaded

"Randy this is ridiculous" Debbie pinched her nose bridge "then why don't you just mind wipe us this time?"

"um..."

"because you can't or because the book will get mad at you?"

"enough with the mind wipe how did YOU know he was the ninja Rachel?" Howard saving randy once again

"well that time I got turned into a monster and the Ninja made me an apology song, it sounded awfully familiar to randy during music class so I just guessed, plus whenever we hang out and there's an emergency he's always the first one to disappear on us"

"and you gotta admit Randy's jokes are as bad as the ninja's " Bucky chimed in

The mood between them improved so debbie eventually agreed because they're friends for the past year or so, and that's when I started to wake up :') one more weird thing is the ninja in my dream didn't have a red scarf around his neck, it's more like black-blue color and idk maybe he looks cooler that way? At least it is in my dream

Thank u for reading I'll think about whether to make this into a real AU or not 😭😭 Edit: i just realized i dreamt of Julian but the entire time he was standing behind theresa, also worrying about randy but idk why he didnt do anything else :')

[f1nalboys]

Memory - Sinclair Brothers

fic based off of this little idea i had <3 just the boys when they were younger!

WORD COUNT: 3050

WARNINGS: angst, general sadness underneath happy moments, abuse mention/slight description, emotional/physical/mental abuse, neglect, young!sinclairs, pre-movie, not a warning but vincent signs but idk if i make it super clear all the way through it, dead animal mention, animal cruelty? the animal is dead but just incase, underage drinking, things could be ooc but they’re kids so, twins are 13 about to turn 14 and lester is 8

Vincent sat at the edge of the forest, chin resting on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. His mask was off, placed gently beside him on his jacket to keep it off of the ground, and his hair had fallen into his face. It stunk of his house, of his mothers perfume, and he swore it was smothering him just like she was. “Vincent!” Lester’s voice calls out for him from within the forest and he looks up from his shoes (Bo’s old ones he had given to Vincent after he grew out of them) and couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

His younger brother, a whopping eight years old since yesterday, comes sauntering out of the forest covered head to toe in dirt, a big gap-toothed grin on his face. “Hey, Lester.” Vincent signs slowly, grinning wider at the intense look Lester has while watching his hands move. Lester was starting to get the hang of understanding Vincent’s signing so long as he kept it slow. Vincent can remember just a few years ago when Bo and Vincent would fight in sign at night as to not wake their parents and Lester would sit perched on the edge of the bed, hands clasped together in his lap and his mouth open in awe as he watched how quickly the boys hands’ moved.

“Hiya!” When he’s a few feet from Vincent, Lester takes one final large hop, landing just in front of his older brother. Gravel goes everywhere and Lester giggles, kicking at the rocks under his feet slightly. Vincent notices the hole beginning to form in the front of his shoes and makes a mental note to find a pair around the house for him. “Where’s Bo? Up at the garage?”

Both boys turn their heads to the right, looking over at the garage further down in town. They couldn’t see anyone but Vincent knew that’s where Bo was because that’s where he always was these days. Vincent couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous of the time Bo spent with Charlie, the mechanic. He had grown used to his brother being by his side, kicking and screaming and hollering every second, and his absence was noticed immediately. To some, like his parents, his being gone was good. But to Vincent, it wasn’t. He knew Bo, knew that he wanted out of this town and out of this life.

He wanted to get away from it all and that meant Vincent too.

Not that Vincent blamed him; quite the opposite, actually. He grew up in close quarters with Bo, saw the way he was strapped to his high chair for hours on end until his wrists bled only for it to happen the next day and then the next. He saw the bruises and cuts that littered his body when he’d get ready for bed. He heard the things his parents said about Bo to his face and he sure as hell heard what they said when he was gone. He wanted Bo to go, but not without him.

“Knew it!” Lester says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “What’s up with ‘ya, Vin? Thought you was with momma today?” Vincent cringes at the reminder and Lester instantly stops moving, sensing it. The kid had a good read on people’s emotions, always ready to listen or help when someone, even his mom or dad, were feeling down. Vincent can’t remember the last time he did that for Lester. “Somethin’ happen?”

Vincent nods and Lester flops down in front of him, sitting criss-crossed. Lester waits for him to sign and, after shaking away the feeling of being silly, he does. “Momma got mad because I’m still not good at the sculptures. She’s getting weaker and she needs me to help her but I can’t. I’m bad at it.” His face scrunches up slightly, head tilting down further. He was embarrassed.

Here he was, 13 going on 14, telling his problems to his little brother, a kid who doesn’t need to know about how mom threw Vincent’s sculpture of her against the wall of the basement, shattering the wax into a million shards in tune with his already broken heart. He doesn’t need to know the details, he decides as his hands fall back into his lap. Lester had been spared from both their parents' rage (for the most part) thus far but only because they were too preoccupied directing that anger at him and Bo. Especially Bo.

“Well, that ain’t true, Vin! You’re awesome at all that stuff!” Lester says and Vincent knows Lester believes that, but he also knows it’s not true. He was alright at art, at sculpting things from his mind, things he had seen in movies or read about in books, but he wasn’t good at the realistic stuff, not like his mom. “Is it ‘cause of the… real stuff?”

“You know about that?”

“Yeah,” Lester is sheepish as he admits it, looking away from Vincent and down to the dirt ground underneath him. “Snuck down one night while momma and daddy were talkin’ to you and Bo about it. I ain’t telling anyone, don’t worry!”

“Lester,” Lester wonders for a brief second how Vincent was able to get his disappointment across as well as he did without speaking, but he simply thins his lips into an apologetic half-smile. “Don’t tell them you know.” There’s an unspoken sentence there that hangs in between them both. Or else they’ll hurt you. Lester holds his pinky out and Vincent’s lip curves upwards as he does the same, hooking his around his little brothers. “It was about that.” He signs when he lets go and Lester nods, eyebrows furrowing together.

Vincent can practically see the gears turning in Lesters little head and he can hear the ‘ding!’ of a lightbulb go off. “Oh, I know! Why don’t you practice!” Vincent waits for Lester to elaborate, not moving a muscle even when Lester jumps up in excitement. “C’mon! I gotta show ya’ somethin’!”

Lester holds his small hand out to his older brother and Vincent takes it, following behind him into the woods without a single question. Even if this was nothing, which Vincent was seven hundred percent sure it wasn’t, the distraction would be nice. He hadn’t been out here in a while.

The last time he had, it had been with Bo. It was a year or so ago, back when Bo and he were attached at the hip, as if the surgery hadn’t worked, and they had gotten grounded and sent to bed with no supper. Bo had suggested they sneak out and Vincent agreed; he’d follow Bo anywhere. That ‘anywhere’ ended up being the middle of the woods, just beside the creek. “I go here when I needa get the hell outta the house.” Bo had said to Vincent, his voice quiet.

The woods had been dark and it had seemed like every noise was amplified, making Vincent’s skin crawl. The flashlight he was holding wasn’t strong enough, just seemed to make the shadows jump out more, make them take the shape of the bullies at school and at home. “Bo, I’m scared.” Vincent had signed to him and Bo had just laughed, slowing his pace down to walk beside his brother.

“Ain't nothin’ to be scared of, Vince.” He said when they finally made it to the spot by the creek that Bo had set out for. “You and I are the scariest sons of bitches these woods have seen. I’ll protect ya, anyways. Just like I always do.” Bo then showed Vincent the bottle of whiskey he had stolen from their fathers a few weeks back and had grinned when Vincent took a sip without a fight. “See! You’re a man!”

It only took another small swig of the liquor to have Vincent feeling different and he stopped there, remembering how his dad got when he drank too much. Bo stopped too, tucking it back into his backpack and hiding it underneath his jacket. Then they sat there, staring off back into the town, the lights from houses flickering off as the minutes ticked by. Vincent had tapped Bo on the shoulder and when he looked at him, he started to sign.

“I’m sorry for not protecting you.”

“What’re you talkin’ about, Vince?”

“From mom and dad.” Bo’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t stop Vincent and he’s glad because he keeps going, whiskey running through his veins. “I should stand up to them for you. It ain’t fair the way you get treated, the way they make you out to be bad. You aren’t bad. You’re better than me, that’s for sure.”

“Now, stop that.” Bo says dryly. “You know I ain’t better than you. Everyone knows it.”

“You are,” Vincent emphasizes, almost like he’s desperate for Bo to really understand him. “You take care of people. You don’t have to defend me from the kids in school but you do. You don’t have to take the blame for me so mom and dad don’t hurt me. You don’t have to make sure Les and I are taken care of.”

“You’re my brother.”

“And you’re mine.”

Bo huffs but through the dimmed flashlight beam Vincent can see his words have struck him. He hopes its in a good way. “Guess I am pretty cool,” He deflects, grinning at his brother. Vincent smiles back; he’d take what he could get from Bo. Bo looked back over at the town, now completely dark. “Imma get us outta here, Vince. You, me, Lester; we ain’t getting stuck in this rotten place, not if I have anything to do about it.”

After that night, Bo seemed to change. He was quieter, more subdued. He stayed out at the garage, learning about cars and how to fix them, how to drive them. It was a part of the plan to get them all out of there but the longer it went on and the longer Bo would stay out, the less certain he was about his brother's intentions on taking them with him.

He knew who he was without his brother. He was a freak. He was the one to target, to pick on and make cry and make hurt. He was the thing to point and laugh at because there was no one around to defend him.

Without Bo, Vincent was nothing. It was selfish to want Bo back and he would end each prayer he made asking for Bo to stay with him with an apology. To whom exactly, he wasn’t sure. Maybe God for bothering him with such requests. Maybe Bo for asking for it knowing how it would hurt him. Maybe himself for not believing in his own abilities to survive.

Every prayer and apology went unanswered.

“Here we are, Vin!” Lester’s voice brings Vincent barreling back to reality. He was no longer in his bedroom, waiting for the creak of the floorboard to signify his brother's return, but instead deep in the forest, just by the creek. He recognizes the surroundings immediately. Swallowing hard he walks over to Lester who was standing a few feet away, shifting his weight foot to foot in excitement. “Lookit!”

Vincent finally reaches his younger brother and looks down at where he was pointing and tilts his head. There was a dead squirrel. “A… squirrel? You wanted to show me this?” He knew Lester was into dead animals and roadkill, knew he had a strange fascination with them, but he had never dragged him twenty minutes deep into the woods to show him one before.

“Yeah! Its not all mangled, not like the ones I find out on the road!” Lester waits for Vincent to understand and when he gets nothing but a shrug of the shoulders he deflates slightly. “I…I figured you could use it to practice. Y’know, momma surely didn’t start with people, I figured if you had something smaller to work on, you could get the tech… technique down, right?”

“You know what, Les?” Vincent bends down, grabbing a stick just next to him and using it to carefully lift the corpse of the squirrel up, surveying the damage. He swallows down the bile rising up his throat and the goosebumps raising on his flesh at the sight of it. Vincent looks up, dropping the stick and looking into Lester’s hopeful eyes. “I think that just might work.”

--------

It didn’t look right. His mother had gone to bed early and his father was surely drinking himself to death, so when Vincent and Lester got back to the house as the sun was setting, they had the basement all to themselves. “Can I watch you, Vin? Oh please, please, let me! I wanna see how you do it!” Lester had pleaded, hands clasped together and bottom lip jutted out. Vincent laughed at the sight of Lester fluttering his lashes at him and had agreed.

Hours later, well past both boys' bedtimes, Vincent had finally finished the last layer of wax, had smoothed it out carefully like he had done to his own figures hundreds of times before. It looked off, though. Too thin in some places, too thick in others, not enough detailing here and there and almost too much in other parts. Vincent grunts, arms folded tightly across his chest. Lester stood beside him, head tilting side to side like an art critic in one of the movies Vincent had seen before.

“It looks so cool!” Lester finally says, looking up at Vincent with a large grin. Vincent shakes his head, lifting his hands to begin to tell Lester everything that was wrong with it, when Lester shakes his head. “Can I keep it, Vin? It’s awesome! It looks just like a wax sculpture but you’d never know the real thing was underneath!”

“You really wanna keep this thing? I could try to make a better one…” Vincent questions and Lester nods quickly, eagerly, hand reaching out to drag along the tail of the squirrel lightly. “Well… if you’re sure you want it, then yeah, go ahead.”

Lester hugs Vincent tight, his little arms barely wrapping around the broadening frame of his brother and Vincent hugs him back, heart swirling with warmth. “Oh, thank you Vincent! You’re the best big brother ever!”

“What about me? Am I chopped liver or somethin’ Les?” Lester and Vincent turn, still hugging each other, and see Bo at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the walls with a fake frown on his face. He was wearing mechanic overalls a size too big but his name was embroidered right there on the front pocket. “I see how it is, kid.”

Lester giggles, letting go of Vincent and running over to Bo, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the table where Vincent’s sculpture sat. “Lookit! There's a real squirrel under this, ain’t that cool Bo? Don’t touch!” Bo gasps in shock when Lester swats at his hand. “You’re all greasy! I don’t want this to get messed up! Vinny made it for me, he’s lettin’ me keep it, can you believe that?”

“Don’t hit, you little brat!” Bo says but there’s no venom behind his words. Vincent watches with bated breath as Bo leans down and tilts his head, much like Lester, as he looks it over. Vincent can see every damn flaw on the thing and he’s sure Bo can too. Bo looks over at him with a cocked eyebrow. “You made this with a real squirrel?”

“Yeah,” He signs sheepishly. “Lester thought it would help me get better if I practiced with this stuff.” Bo nods, eyes trailing off towards the corner where most of Vincent's current projects sat and he hones in on the shards covering the floor. His eyes darken when he looks back at Vincent. “It was momma. I messed up the sculpture.”

Bo sucks his teeth harshly, lips thinning into an angry line. “Sure as hell ain't true; your shit’s better than momma’s half the time and that squirrel ain’t an exception.” Lester gasps at the swear word and Bo stifles a laugh with a cough. “Sorry, Les, forgot you were here. Don’t go repeatin’ that now, alright? Not till you’re older. Now,” He picks Lester up and the young boy yawns, resting his head onto his shoulder and Bo nods his head for Vincent to grab ahold of the squirrel. “Let’s all get to bed before we get in trouble.”

After tucking Lester in his bed and placing the squirrel on his small bookshelf beside the small collection of animal bones he had begun to collect, Bo and Vincent silently settle into their own beds. “Vince? You up?” Bo asks in the darkness and Vincent lets out a soft grunt in acknowledgement. “I meant what I said about your shit being better than mommas.”

Vincent doesn’t know what to say, so he remains quiet. Bo sighs, turning over in bed so his back was no longer turned from his brother and he stares at him, waiting. “Thanks, Bo. She’s really good, though. I’m not good at the…stuff she wants us to do. No one else knows about it but us.”

“I know.” Bo hates it too, but he knows better than to disagree with his mom. He’s quiet for a minute and right when Vincent thinks he had fallen asleep, Bo starts to talk again. “I’m getting a car fixed up. Gonna be able to leave soon.”

“Really? All of us, or just you?”

“All of us.”

A million questions run through his head. Where would they go? What would they do? Where would they stay? What would happen to their mom and dad? Bo knows the questions he has but he doesn’t have any answers. Vincent grunts again and the two boys fall silent. They could leave. Really leave. He could make his own art, Bo could learn about music, Lester could do whatever he wanted. They could figure it out. They could get out from the iron rule of their parents and be who they wanted to be, do what they wanted. They could be free.

All three boys fall asleep with smiles on their faces. All three boys dream of a fire in the House of Wax.

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Okay disregard my last revivebur blurb i have a better one

After Wilbur death, his partner goes to live out of the smp

there is an incident, but it is relatively more peaceful

instead of UTAH, Wilbur leaves the SMP to go travel in other servers, and gets caught up in some weird shit idk idk. Point of the story— he’s in disguise

he meets the reader as the new neighbor in town! Reader doesn’t recognize him since their sight is balls after the incident, and maybe Wilbur is wearing a mask

wibbbbber is afraid of revealing himself as Wilbur due to fear of rejection so he tries to get close to you while still under the “neighbor” role

yall become friends, and the reader confides in [Wilbur] about her late fiancé, Wilbur soot!

”he was a lovely singer but a hopeless dancer…”

”our poet”

”I wish I had been there for him in the end, at least more often.”

speaks very highly of him, clearly loves him still while Wilbur is actually there and just 💘

OKAY I am responding to this one and probably the last one (later) because I have THOUGHTS

First of all, I love everything about this. Maybe reader is essentially blind after the incident (a fire? a final battle? idk). Reader has a service dog, and they “meet” Wilbur when he compliments how adorable the dog is (mans has a soft spot for animals and you cannot convince me otherwise). Wilbur recognizes you—of course—but how could he speak to you after everything? He doesn’t deserve redemption (he never did quite forgive himself), but maybe he could at least be close to you.

Meanwhile, reader can only sort of see Wilbur (maybe they’re the sort of blind where you can only make out shadows/light), but something about his presence feels warm and familiar. His voice sounds familiar too, but just a little off. Reader can’t quite place it, but they feel safe with Wilbur in a way that they themself don’t fully understand. This means, of course, that Wilbur visits a lot.

It’s a late night conversation, one held over warm tea as the rain patters gently on the roof. You’re sitting on the loveseat in your living room, dog curled up beside you, dozing off. Wilbur sits across from you in a chair, and you can barely see his silhouette. He’s asking you about your life before you arrived in town, asking less like he’s curious and more like he already knows. You write your suspicions off as your own paranoia as you begin telling him about Wilbur.

“He was too ambitious for his own good, sometimes,” you say wistfully, setting your tea on a side table. “That’s why I loved him. He wouldn’t take a ‘no’ from anyone. He had an idea of how the world should be, and nothing could deter him from that.”

Wilbur is quiet for a moment. “Sounds foolish,” he says. His tone is somewhat bitter, and he regrets the words as soon as they’re spoken.

“Maybe,” you reply thoughtfully. “Maybe sometimes…but I think his heart was always in the right place.” You pause. “Even at the end.”

You continue telling him about Wilbur, about himself, though you may not know it. How he was a terrible dancer, how he would apologize for stepping on your toes with a kiss pressed to the back of your hand. How, even when his mind was slipping, he held you at night whenever he could (so tightly, as if he feared you would slip away). How he always spoke highly of you. How he would recite poetry and respond to your light teasing with mock offense before showering you in kisses. How, during the fighting and whenever he was away, you’d receive his handwritten letters.

And then, you reach his death. “I would have done anything to save him,” you say. “Even then. Even at his worst, I would have done anything.” Your voice trembles, and you try to calm yourself with another sip of tea. When that doesn’t work, you find yourself sighing. “I wonder if he knew that. I was never good at telling him. I just wish…I wish I would have told him I loved him more, especially at the end.”

Wilbur’s heart breaks at the words, at the solemn expression on your face. He finds himself asking the question that he’s been dying to ask this whole time. “And…and did you forgive him? For all of it?” His breath hitches in his throat. He desperately wants a yes, but part of him wants a no. Part of him wants you to affirm what he’s believed about himself the whole time—that he’s unforgivable. That it’s a good thing that he died, and that you left.

Instead, you pause. “Yeah. For all of it. And I would do it all again, if I could go back. I would relive every painful moment just to be with him.”

Wilbur slowly gets out of his chair to kneel in front of yours. Hesitantly, he takes your hands in his. “I think he knows,” he says softly. “I think he knows that you loved him. Even at the end.” His breaths are short, and his legs tremble. He knows that you’ll recognize him now, and it terrifies him. The thought of losing you again is unbearable, but how can he watch you be in so much pain?

Your brows furrow slightly as you feel the steady weight of his hands in yours. And then, all the pieces fall together. These are familiar hands. These are the hands that held yours the day his nation gained independence. They’re the hands that held yours again in a dark cavern as he plotted a second revolution. You know every callous on these fingers.

“Wilbur…” His name has hardly left your lips before you’re pulling him close. He hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around you. The embrace feels like home. “It’s you.” You can hardly get the words out, too much in shock and disbelief.

“It’s me,” he confirms. He buries his face in your shoulder. “I’m sorry—I’m—I’m so sorry, love. I would redo it—“

“Shh,” you say. “Please. Just…” You pull back slightly and cup his face in your hands. You may only see his silhouette, but you know exactly how he’s looking at you. You can see those brown eyes in your mind just as clearly. “Don’t apologize. I know you’re sorry.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” His voice is slowly crumbling, and he feels your arms around him once more.

“I know.” There are so many questions in your mind, so many things you want to ask. How is he here? Why has he said nothing about his own identity?

But those can all wait. “Make it up to me,” you say quietly. “Stay this time.”

He nods. He presses a kiss to your jaw, then to your cheek, then one to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.

And this time, you know he’s telling the truth.

[starlight-lesbians]

in that case…

https://www.tumblr.com/celestialwrites/745250550972596225/jealousy-dialogue-prompts-%E0%AD%A8%E0%AD%A7

any of these for greasedinah? idm if you pick one and write a mini fic or you could do headcanons for all of them maybe? idk whatever you’d like, love your work!

Are You...Jealous?

a/n: I'm definitely going to be using more of these but I thought this one would be hilarious.

warnings: swearing? ig? no angsty, just silly!

prompt used: “i never took you for the jealous type.” “i. am. not. jealous.”

summary: dinah didn't think her girlfriend got jealous, so why is she acting like that?

So Dinah is on the sidelines for a race, maybe she's injured, maybe she just isn't feeling it, but the point is, she isn't racing.

Greaseball is racing with Belle for this round, since she's friends with Dinah and volunteered to give her a break

She gets SWARMED by engines from out of town who seem to think her and Greaseball are broken up, despite how loudly Dinah is cheering for her girlfriend

Every one of them gets turned down of course, but Greaseball can see them talking to her while they're supposed to be getting warmed up, and she's pissed

Belle shoves Greaseball over to rescue her girlfriend, because she can see nothing will get done until she does (really simple things Do Not come naturally to her when she's distracted AND angry)

She rolls up behind Dinah and snakes her arms around her waist, glaring all the other engines down

All of them feel the venom in her stare and move back nervously, knowing she's prone to starting fights, ESPECIALLY over Dinah

Dinah gets all giddy when she feels Greaseball hug her and leans her head back against her, finally feeling a bit more comfortable "I thought you were getting warmed up baby, what's up?"

Greaseball just kind of grunts and starts to tug her away, still staring down the other engines until they were out of sight

"I didn't like them talking to you, and you looked uncomfortable" She let Dinah turn around in her arms to face her once they'd moved far enough away

Dinah figures out what's happening and starts laughing "Aw, were you jealous honey? Didn't take you for the jealous type."

"I am not jealous, they were just too close to you, I didn't like it." She grumbled, squeezing Dinah tight to her again.

"Okay Greasy, whatever you say" Dinah shrugged and just enjoyed the rare PDA she was getting, "My hero."

UGH them they're my girlfailures, sorry this took 10 years

[jjtheresidentbaby]

idk if u still do supernatural but r u open to a fic of little sam and cg dean? (i dont ship them i just love the brother dynamic they got)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ not true ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

|| dean winchester & sam winchester

a/n: ofc I still do spn!! I still write for all the fandoms listed on my navigation post unless they’re crossed out

warnings: hurt/comfort, swearing, set in season 1, rude people, protective dean, pet names talk of jess’ death/cg!jess

-

Dean feels Sam's face tuck into his neck before he sees his brother walk over, Sam presses himself into Deans side so something is obviously wrong.

"Sammy?" He asks, turning on his feet to look at Sam's face, his eyes glisten with un-shed tears, nose sniffling after a second. Dean feels dread twist up in his gut, this hunt should be an easy salt and burn, they had come to this shop to ask a few routine questions about the owner who had died and since come back to haunt the place that his daughter now owns. Sam shouldn’t be upset or hurt at all.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart what’s wrong?” Deans hand comes to cradle Sam’s cheek before he can stop himself, he knows that Sam has slipped into his headspace, it’s written all over his face.

“Nothin’ just some guy.” He mumbles and a spike of anger flares in Deans chest. This is the fourth hunt in that past however many months that someone’s said something about Sam, whether it be about his “childish” behavior or the rambles he gives on cases that are too intricate for the local pd to understand. Both make Dean angry, protective, but the comments about how “clingy” or “young” Sam is really get to him.

His brother has been through a lot throughout his life, something that Dean is keenly aware of. The latest trauma is Jess dying, it had shook Sam to his core, just like when Mary died and John became a mess. But they’re working through it and Sam regressing has been helpful, it’s only four months into Dean finding out about the coping mechanism and yet he’s fallen comfortably into the role of a caregiver for Sam. A role that Jess used to fill, Dean is always sure to be sensitive when that comes up.

The last thing Sam should have to deal with is a bunch of assholes who have nothing better to do than poke fun at someone they don’t know. It gets to Dean in different ways than it does Sam, the older Winchester wants to hunt the people down and give them a piece of his mind, while Sam would rather Dean leave it and let Sam latch around him a little more than normal.

It’s how Dean finds his hand gripped tightly in Sam’s as they walk down the crooked sidewalk back to the Impala, thankfully not wearing suits as he’s sure it’d be an odd sight for anyone passing by. It’s not a long walk by any means but Dean can feel his mind spiraling the more Sam squishes against his side, whatever was said must’ve been bad, really bad.

“Hey it’s okay Sammy, it’s just us now.” Dean assures as soft as he can. Sam’s staring up at him from where his head is rested on Deans side, his body halfway slid down the bench of the impala so he can be smaller than Dean. It’s something Dean noticed almost immediately, Sam always slumps himself down or curls his shoulders in when he’s regressed, just trying to shrink himself to be physically tinier.

“Can you tell me what they said? You don’t have to but if I know I might be able to help more.” There’s a low rumble as Dean drives down the road, now thankful that their motel is just outside of town and not in the middle where they could run into more rude people.

“I- I was just asking questions about the girl we’re trying to help but this- this guy came in and started to say stuff about how nobody like me could really help her.” He sniffles through the explanation and Dean has to focus half his energy on not turning around to go tear that guy a new one. It’d do no good, sure it’d satisfy him, but Sam would still be upset and probably even more so knowing Dean got into a fight because of him, despite none of it ever being Sam’s fault. The kids got a heart of gold that people love to prey on.

“That’s not true, it will never be true Sammy. You are an amazing hunter and anyone would be lucky to have your help.” The compliments fire off in instinct, of course Sam’s a good hunter, of course he’d be the person you’d want to get help from, Deans never thought anything different.

“But—.” Dean shakes his head firmly, glancing down at Sam’s soft face and hand gripping at the t-shirt Dean has on, Dean wishes he could stay like this forever. Just them, safe, in Baby, only worrying about each other.

“But that guy was a jerk and you don’t deserve to be talked to like that. Now c’mon we’ll order something and watch cartoons.” A tired but full smile spreads on Sam’s face as they both tumble out of the car, Dean already holding his hand out for his brother and a plan forming in his head for what they can do once this hunt wraps up, they could both use a little tlc in Deans opinion.