#HOURS of my one wild and precious life.

[sashayed]

what if he did sponcon spa night brought to you by Oil Jar

what if he was a gardenfluencer

what if he did girl dinner #yum. i like the one where you can see his little shadow taking the photo. i said he was an influencer but i didn't say he was good at it

what if he was a rich godblogger. as for me and MY household, we will serve THE TRIFORCE -Hylia 24:15 #faithful #blessingroom #homeowner

could a depressed person make THIS? (elaborately staged Zelda TOTK screenshots that make it look like Link is an influencer)

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

A/N: And another one-shot with my precious Logan. This has angst and some fluff. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

Words: 3700+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

It was a wild, exhausting day. Well, more like five days. The last time I visited my parents was almost a year ago. They knew nothing about my new life, only the lies I told them.  That’s why I didn’t have time to see them as often as they wanted to. 

I missed them. That’s why I came back. I thought my short vacation with them in my home town would be without incidents and fights. Oh how wrong I was. 

It was eleven in the evening. I was sitting on the front porch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. The night was cold. Autumn hit with full force. I wished I could return to the place where I felt more at home. Unfortunately, the school was over four hours drive away from my hometown. 

I had my phone in my hands, contemplating whether to call the person who could make me smile or not. My eyes were on the contact name, and I was not sure whether to press the button or forget about it and head back to bed. It was too late for a phone call even when I knew he’d be up. After a couple of deep breaths, I decided to tap the screen and call my boyfriend Logan. 

<< Hey baby. 

Hearing his voice made me smile. Logan picked up the call quickly. “Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” 

<< No, of course not. I’m reading that book you got me before you left. Damn, good choice, baby. 

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s that good? Glad you like it. Maybe I’ll get you to read more. Even if they are historical memoirs or anything that has to do with history. We could start our own club, just the two of us.” I heard him laugh. Quickly, he changed the topic.

<< So, how’s the visit going? Everything good? 

I sighed, not knowing what to say to him. I didn’t want to complain. I already told him something about my parents - how they treat me even when they care about me. My relationship with my family was complicated. “It’s okay,” I said simply. “It’s okay. Really, okay.”

<< One more and I’ll believe ya.

“It is what it is. I always believe it’ll be better and it’s not,” I admitted. “Only two more days and I’ll head to the mansion. I have the bus tickets and everything planned to get back.” 

<< What happened, darlin’? You know you can talk to me.

“I know,” I kept shaking my head, nodding to no one. “I just don’t want to complain. I hate complaining. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 

<< I get that you hate it. But maybe it’s time you did complain a little. I am here for you, darlin’. I’ll listen and we can talk about it. I don’t want you to feel miserable. Just… can’t believe you decided to visit them when they treat you like shit. 

He was right. They always treated me like shit. As an only child, I was the black sheep of the family. Or they saw me as one. My parents didn’t mind ridiculing me in front of our other relatives or their friends. Even as an adult, they continued to do this to me. I was dumb enough to let them. 

<< Tell me what happened, Y/N.

“We visited my relatives, my father’s sister, and they all ganged up on me,” I said. My voice was low. I whispered most of the time, not to wake anyone up. 

I didn’t trust anyone from my family. They didn’t know I was a mutant, where I was working or that I saved the day multiple times since becoming an X-man. They lost my trust the moment they decided to invade my privacy as a teen and snoop around my messages, diaries and stuff. It wasn’t just that. I was ridiculed for liking books, and for being too excited about the little things in life. My taste for music was weird and laughable. My lack of interest in boys was concerning. It was a whole story. 

“My friend and I wanted to go to a concert in a few months. I got excited someone wanted to attend with me - no, baby, you don’t listen to that kind of music -  and they decided to make me feel miserable for my excitement,” I explained. 

<< Darlin’, why do you always let them do this to you? 

“Because I am dumb,” I rolled my eyes. “Because I hate fights and any type of quarrels. I don’t like conflicts.” 

Logan knew I never mentioned to my family that I was seeing someone. I wasn’t ashamed of the relationship - the opposite, honestly. My family didn’t deserve to know anything about me. 

<< I think it’s time you cut contact with them. I know it sounds horrible when I say it. As If I tried to influence you in some way. Just, fuck, I hate when they make you miserable. Baby, to me, it seems like they don’t care and don’t give a shit about your well-being. 

I knew he was right. And yet, I was afraid to do that step. “They are my parents-”

<<Whom treat you like shit, Y/N. I am so fucking angry at them. I should have come with you. I’d be there to teach them a fucking lesson about respecting the woman I love. 

Those words made me smile. Never in my life have I had someone to defend me like Logan would. The grump, my grump, was there for me when no one was. He was mine for over a year now. 

“You love me, yay,” I said happily. 

<< Baby, you know damn well I love you. I should have been there tonight. I should have been there to let them know how shitty they are. 

I hummed. “That’s okay. I know you’d defend my honour. And I love you for that. I need to survive two more days before I head back to school. The bus drive will be the best thing from this trip.” 

<< The school is your home. So, come back home. Change the bus tickets and leave. I want you here with me, darlin’. 

“No,” I shook my head. “That would be rude. I need to toughen up and survive these last two days. Afterwards, I’m done. Besides, I don’t have a good emergency story.” 

<< You don’t need one. 

“Logan, come on,” I sighed. “I’ll be back in two days. I miss you. Can’t wait to be with you. I’m staying.”

<< Miss you too, darlin’. Two fucking days.

I had to laugh. He was cute and he didn’t know that. After that, we ended the call. I remained sitting on the porch swing, looking at the silent street. Everyone was asleep. The whole neighbourhood calmed down as their residents rested for the night. 

The air got colder, so I moved from the porch, back to my old room and headed to bed. What if I was exaggerating the problem with my parents? What if it was me creating conflict when there wasn’t any? With a heavy sigh, I went to bed. 

The next day was a chaos. Around lunch, my father’s aunt and her family came to the house. “Didn’t your mother tell you? We’ll have lunch together and we wanted to be with you some more before you leave again,” my aunt chuckled at her words. 

“Great,” I said, but I wasn’t thrilled at all.

Her kids were loud, spoilt brats. They’d let them do anything they wanted. It pissed me off. I knew they were my cousins. Unfortunately. As much as I wanted to teach them a lesson and tell them no, their mother would always allow everything. 

Both boys were running around the house, screaming and throwing toys around. To calm them down, they got tablets to do whatever they wanted -  a movie, a game? Why not both? 

Logan was right. I should have left. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with them. And with lunch approaching, I knew it would be a stressful one. All the yelling, the bitching and moaning…

We were about to head to the dining table when we heard the doorbell ring once the food was ready to be served. “I’ll get it,” I said. I was the closest to them. 

As I walked to the door, I put my hair in a messy bun, to keep them away when I’d eat. I expected to see a neighbour or another family member that I wasn’t interested in seeing. When I opened the door, I gasped.

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Logan was leaning against the doorframe. He had black sunglasses on his face, dressed in those damn jeans and a green-blue flannel shirt. A brown leather jacket was resting on his shoulders. Dressed to kill… me. Fuck. He looked hot.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” My eyes widened, lips twitched because they wanted to curl into a smile. I grabbed him by the leather jacket to pull myself closer to him. He smelled like cigars and nice minty body spray. 

“I came to rescue my princess from this hellhole,” he said, voice firm and serious. 

I coughed. “What? Baby, we’re having an unexpected family lunch,” I made a face. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you are here,” I hummed with a smile. “Wait, did you ask Charles to help you get here? You went through my file!” 

“I needed to get here somehow,” said Logan innocently. “And it seems I am on time for lunch. I am starving.”

My mouth dropped to the floor when I heard him say that. I wanted to say something, anything. Unluckily, my mother decided to make herself present by approaching us. “Oh, hello, is everything okay?” she asked us. 

Logan put down his glasses and grinned at my mother. “I came to see your daughter.” 

“Oh?” 

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing mentally. I felt stress crawl up my back. Not because Logan decided to show up. It was my mother’s subtle reactions. How her brows rose, how I could sense the tension in her body. Or was it thrill?

“This… is… Logan,” I lazily turned to my mother. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“You have a boyfriend?!” she squealed. “And you didn’t tell us?” It seemed she was offended. “You never tell us anything! Ah! This is a big deal. Oh my god!”

Deep breath in and slow exhale. I did it multiple times. Immediately, Logan approached me as I tried to calm myself down. He rested his hand on my lower back. 

One last deep breath. “Uh, we’ll be right there. I need to talk to Logan for a moment, okay?” 

My mother nodded, grinning like a maniac. She clapped her hands and ran back to the dining room. I knew she would let her mouth run wild and comment on what she saw. Lunch was about to turn into a nightmare. 

“You okay, baby?” Logan asked me gently. 

I pushed him outside and closed the door behind us. I was panicking a little. “This day is crazy,” I mumbled. “Oh my god.” I panicked a little. 

As I got closer to Logan, he wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me to his chest. “Everything will be fine,” he assured me. “You angry at me?” 

“No,” I said. “Quite the opposite. I’m glad you are here,” I inhaled his scent which helped me calm down a bit. “Fuck, you are like a gift from heaven. I should have listened to you and headed back to school. I’ve been receiving shit since the very morning. And now, my aunt and her family are here and… I want to run away.” 

He pressed a kiss on top of my head. “So, let’s go. Fuck them,” he said. “I’ll get your stuff and we are out of here.” 

“It’s not that easy,” I sighed. 

He growled, thinking. “Okay, listen to me,” he pushed me enough to look into my face. “Here’s the deal. One shit, one stupid thing from them, we are out. I don’t give a shit they are your family. They will not disrespect you. I won’t allow that.” 

I didn’t have the chance to say something. Logan took my hand and led me back into the house. He trusted his instinct which led him to a room filled with my family members. The moment we stepped into the dining room, all eyes were on us. 

First came the introductions. My father tried to be intimidating. My uncle used his dumb intelligent humour to impress Logan. Neither of us found it funny. My aunt was too touchy. I wanted to step on her foot for that. My cousins didn’t give a shit. They were interested in their mobile games. 

“How long have you been together?” 

It was the first of many questions. Logan and I sat next to each other. My mother brought a plate for him. One of his hands found my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s been over a year now,” he said, voice low and gruff. 

“Where did you meet?” my aunt asked. 

“At work,” I said quickly. “We work in the same building.” 

“Really?” My father didn’t believe that. “He doesn’t look like someone who would work in a big corporate company.”

“Dad!” I glared at him. 

No one knew what I was, what was my real job. I told them a story about my life in New York, working for a big company. For them, I was the daughter who moved to New York. I wasn’t the mutant, the whiny girl they used to call me. Of course, Logan knew it all.

My aunt eyed Logan once more. “They take you seriously with that hair?” she asked him. 

My eyes almost popped out of my head. I couldn’t believe she dared to say it. “Excuse me?” was all I got out of my mouth.

And it got worse. 

“We always believed our Y/N would move to Europe and live her life there. Empty promises how she’d become a writer, leave the country and live a better life,” my mother laughed. “We believed she would be the one to leave the county and do great things. And here we are.” 

“Still can’t believe she didn’t settle down. But what do you want from someone who’s not fond of kids? She always hated kids, so be prepared she wouldn’t want a family with you,” said my aunt. 

“She never went to college. She lied to us about applying, her interest in decusation.” 

“Always complaining and crying.” 

“She was a sensible child.”

“She suffered from depression and anxiety.”

Logan smashed a hand against the table. All the plates and cutlery rang. I closed my eyes, ready to release my last breath from all the humiliation. My family went rampage - saying shit that even they knew was not true. But here we were. 

“Everyone shut your goddamn mouths,” he snarled, slowly rising from the table. “She is your goddamn daughter and you’ve been treating her like shit the moment I sat behind this damn table. How the fuck do you think you make her feel?” 

“Language!” my aunt glared at him. “Children are present.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your two spoilt bastards,” Logan glared at her. “You can’t even make them put the damn tablets down while eating.”

“Who do you think you are?” my mother asked. She was offended by Logan’s behaviour. 

“I am the guy who needs to put you in your fucking place. You do not respect your daughter and you keep humiliating her in front of me. Instead of saying something nice, something positive, you’ve been running your mouth off with a lot of bullshit and I am sick of it.” 

Logan grabbed me by my arm and helped me get up. I barely listened to a word they all said. My mind was spiralling. I felt like the biggest loser, the black sheep of the family. Someone who shouldn’t be born.

“Don’t you fucking dare say one more word about her,” Logan spat at them. “Or I swear, I will make your lives miserable. She’s the most amazing woman in this godforsaken world. She means the world to me. She’s the definition of goodness, kindness and love. And fuck, I don’t deserve her. But I will defend her and show her how worthy of love she is because it seems you never loved her in the first place!” 

Silence. Everyone was glaring at Logan, shocked by the words he said. As if they all forget how to speak. 

“Y/N? How can you be with this rude man?” 

“Rude?” I raised a brow. “You’ve been rude to me the whole week I was here. Logan defended me when no one else did. Even I couldn’t stand up for myself and send you to hell and back! You are the rude here, not him.” 

“That’s not true,” my uncle chimed in.

I got up from the table. “I’m gonna go pack and we’ll be on our way.” 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” said Logan, quickly pressing a kiss to my temple as I walked by him. 

The packing took me less than five minutes. I threw everything into my suitcase. I made sure I had my documents. The moment I got downstairs with my belongings, my mother was the first by my side. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said. 

“I am.”

“And with that man?”

I stopped and glared at her. My feelings were battling inside of me. I wanted to scream, shout nasty words and throw a tantrum like a child would. However, I would never do that. I hated conflicts. I hated this moment.

“Bye, Mother,” I said and left the house. 

Once I stepped out of the house I grew up in, I felt relief and grief. A chapter, that was supposed to end sooner, finally closed. It was not a happy ending, but it had to happen to move on. Without Logan’s help, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Thank god he came here so unexpectedly. He got my back.

Logan was leaning against the car, cigar in his mouth. When I approached him, he took my suitcase and put it inside the car. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

I ended up in his tight embrace. The cigar long forgotten. He had to put it off on his hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get going.” 

“Take me home,” I said with a broken voice. 

“Home?” I knew he was smiling when he said that.

“Yes,” I nodded. “ Like you said - the X-mansion is my home. You are my home. Not this, not here.” 

Logan lifted my head by pressing a finger under my chin. Our eyes met. “I’m sorry they never treated you right. I’m sorry they saw you as something damaged, broken, now worthy of their time” He took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything to show you, that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You…” Logan sighed. “You are the love of my life.” 

“Logan,” I gasped. We told each other many times the three beautiful words. This was something new, deep. It was an undiscovered territory that didn’t feel intimidating. 

His lips found mine in a simple kiss. I tasted the cigars and the coke he had during unfinished lunch. It was perfect. Like a definition of our relationship. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.” 

[angelicalchaoticabyss]

Burning Spice x reader with their newborn baby :3

Warning: Mentions of being post-partum, after birth, that stuff. Also, sorry if I write him wrong, I just finished playing the story!

It had been a long 9 months, and what felt like an even longer 15 hours. The wild spice tribe leaders were rushing to and fro on Burning Spice Cookie’s orders to get you cleaned up, healed, fed, given drink, etc. The cotton bedding you laid on was replaced with a clean one, you were panting with a sore throat and tear stained faced…but you were happy.

You were happy, because in your arms wrapped in a bundle of soft blankets was a tiny extension of both you and your husband. Your darling beast had been so gentle with you through your pregnancy, and you chuckled a bit seeing him be so nervous to touch you or the child you both had made. The baby had your dough, your hair, but also had his blazing red eyes that you adored so much. It looked like the perfect mixture of the two of you.

You looked at Burning Spice and motioned for him to come closer. He did, moving up right next to you, he was even careful with that.

“Come on now, don’t you want to hold them?” You asked, tired but still playful.

“Yes, but I can so easily break them. I don’t want to hurt them.” He spoke.

“And you won’t, I know you won’t. Come now, they wanna be held by their precious papa.” You snickered.

You carefully held your child up to him, Burning Spice Cookie while hesitant, took the child into his arms. Holding them close to his chest and cradling their head. Your child yawned and opened their eyes, looking at him and then…they smiled. At that your husband started to cry, this big man of destruction, known to laugh at people’s suffering…was crying over his newborn baby. That brought a smile and a laugh.

Your baby gripped his finger and bit it; Burning Spice laughed through his tears and nuzzled his child. That brought more tears to you, but they were tears of joy at seeing your husband absolutely adore his child. He sat on the new cotton bedding next to you, cradling the baby with one arm and holding you close with the other. He kissed your head and then your lips.

“My dear spice, you’re stronger than any cookie I know. And look, you given me a beautiful and clearly powerful heir. I swear on my soul jam that nothing will destroy what is mine.”

That made your heart so fast, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled him. He moved the baby to rest on the both of you. Your Great Destroyer just promised not to let anything harm you or his child. Now THAT’S something to get out of him.

As for Burning Spice Cookie, he felt something in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time. A true, happy, CHANGE to his life. And he had no intention to ever let it go. You and his child were his world now. A world he will do anything to protect…including destroy a few kingdoms for.

[foldingfittedsheets]

So I went to Geek Girl Con this year and the best panel we attended was one where Librarians recommend your next spicy romance read and since they provided a list I figured I'd share the list because why the hell not? I don’t know how long they will leave the link up sorry All synopsis will be what I remembered from the panel without any research into the title so buckle up! I feel like it's pretty obvious which ones I was more interested in based on what I remember.

Triple Sec - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fiction

This is a poly plot wherein a cynical bartender gets swept up in a new romance with a lady in an open marriage and then sparks start between all three.

Band Sinister - Spice Level 4 Queer/Period

A period romance between two guys, the local playboy and our leading lad who meets the local playboy when his sister gets into an accident on the guy’s property. He finds a lovely community very different than the rake's reputation suggested and gets drawn into a romance against his better judgement.

Here We Go Again - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fiction

A wlw romance between two girls with a history who need to go on a roadtrip together and reconnect on the drive. Childhood friends I think?

Payback's a Witch - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fantasy

A wlw romance between Emmy and Talia (I'm cheating I've read this one before and liked it). Emmy left her hometown and magic behind after an embarrassing rejection from the most powerful magical family's scion. She comes back into town and finds her best friend and the stunning Talia have both now been wronged by the same guy. They convince Emmy to join a pact to get back at him together and Emmy and Talia grow closer through the power of revenge.

Act Your Age Eve Brown - Spice Level 2 Het/Fiction

A chaotic autistic female lead runs into a by the book boy after one of them gets hit by the others car and she ends up staying with him. They form a very sweet bond and the representation was lauded as being very precious.

Merry Inkmas - Spice Level 4 Het/Fiction

A cool alternative barista gets fired in front of her crush for giving a homeless man a free coffee and her crush hires her on the spot to work for him instead. They start up a relationship that he warns has an expiration date which suits her fine- or does it? Hijinks ensue.

D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding - Spice Level 4 Queer/Fiction

A wlw romance under false pretenses, they agree to get married for a reality TV show. There's an influencer and a shy one can’t remember who’s who, the shy one decided national television is a good way to come out to her family. As the competition continues real feelings start to rear their head between the two.

The Prospects - Spice Level 4 Queer/Fiction

Uhhhh baseball boys? The boys play baseball... mlm romance. Baseball.

Something Wild and Wonderful - Spice Level 3 Queer/Fiction

Two guys are both hiking a grueling trail from Mexico to Canada. After running into each other repeatedly they strike up a connection and eventually a relationship. One of the guys is still spiritual despite rejection from the church and it's healing for the other guy.

Prince and Assassin - Spice Level 4 Queer/Fantasy

An assassin is sent on a mission to take out a prince. While waiting for his orders to pull the dagger the two men grow closer and the assassin realizes he may not be able to kill off the prince as he learns more about him- but his sister's life is forfeit if he fails. Dramaaaaa

After Hours on Milagro Street - Spice Level 5 Het/Fiction

I cheated and had to refresh my memory as I fully forgot the plot. A bar is entrusted to new management in the form of a tattooed tough lady. A child of the family who's always run it takes issue with her management and sparks fly as they learn to compromise.

The Pairing - Spice Level Queer/Fiction

A couple breaks up before taking an amazing food tour across Europe and neither goes. With their tickets to the tour about to expire both decide to say screw it and go anyway, presuming that they couldn't possibly run into each other. They do. They they proceed to try to out slut each other while eating delicious food to prove how over each other they are. They aren't.

Hunt the Stars - Spice Level 3 Het/Sci fi

Human/alien pairing I think? As a bounty hunting crew takes a dangerous job and in the midst of peril find undeniable chemistry despite some fraught history between the two species.

A Holly Jolly Ever After - Spice Level 5 Het/Fiction

A previous child actor has found herself in a loveless marriage. She finally breaks free of her husband and takes a huge hit to her public image. She takes a job on a Hallmark style Christmas movie with another previous child star boyband. He has always had a crush on her and while paired as romantic leads on the film she admits to him she's never had an orgasm. We can see where this is going.

Morning Glory Milking Farm - Spice Level 5 Het/Fantasy

Stay with me. Minotaur. Milking. Farms. But it's not milk, guys. So a down on her luck girl takes a great paying job on a farm which I think is like phone sex? and makes a connection with one of the beefy boys get it. Genuinely tactful conversations around consent despite the goofy premise. Monster fuckers will enjoy.

Hate to Want You - Spice Level 5 Het/Fiction

Romeo and Juliet style warring families who hate each other because of grocery stores, I think. A boy and girl get together once a year and hate fuck each other about it but things get hard when she moves back into town for real and they keep bumping into each other.

Consort of Fire - Spice Level 5 Queer/Fantasy

A princess and knight go to take down a dragon but wind up falling for him instead? I feel like that's enough said. Poly dynamic and dragons, that's all it took for me to put in a hold.

Dating Dr. Dil - Spice Level 3 Het/Fiction

Fake dating a hot doctor to get her family off her back. 'Nough said.

Satisfaction Guaranteed - Spice Level 2 Queer/Fiction

A lady inherits a sex toy shop and drops her job to try to save it. The store manager doesn't think much of her and they both have to work together to get the shop back on its feet.

Role Playing - Spice Level 3 Het/Fiction

A forties lady joins a message board for gaming and strikes up a conversation with someone she assumes is a teenager. The guy thinks he's talking to a grandma. They meet and realize they're in the same age bracket and have a lot in common.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆

If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^

A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD

Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader

“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader

After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).

One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene.  This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.

The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said, 

“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.

“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.

Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.

“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies. 

“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement. 

Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.

‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’

“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up. 

“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room. 

He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”

Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:

“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”

Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?

“What?”

Deny it is.

“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.

“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”

He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him. 

“Mhm.” you say sarcastically. 

Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.

“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly. 

“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed. 

“Do what?” you say, teasingly.

“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.

“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in,  yet.. said nothing.”

He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt. 

“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”

You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.

“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. 

He sits next to you, looking confused.

“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours. 

“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle. 

Husk’s eyes widened in shock.

“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.

“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.

Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before. 

In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”

You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face. 

“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.

“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.

“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”

You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.

“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”

As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.

[holybibly]

This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?

Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today

Glass House Ateez x reader

Everything changed in an instant. 

The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters. 

A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones. 

There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay. 

It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun. 

All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come. 

The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons. 

The majestic Hala. 

Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible. 

With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began. 

Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist. 

The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have. 

In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.

Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price. 

The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful. 

You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers. 

Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet. 

You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue. 

Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life. 

You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you. 

Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest. 

The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy. 

You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic. 

You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense. 

Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you. 

Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name. 

The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.

Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window. 

The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.

You were saturated with this game. 

There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you. 

It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power. 

No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.

You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.

It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.

You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.

You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.

"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."

There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.

"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".

Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.

On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.

"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".

But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.

That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy.   Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.

In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.

Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.

You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.

You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.

This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for  you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".

Yes, that sounds much better.

It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".

Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.

[luckykiwiii101]

Not So Sugar&Spice And EVERYTHING Nice After All…

(Read till the end!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I HATE to break it to you but, you’re going to have to get ready to accept that you’re NOT going to live the life of your dreams.

DROP those endless list of desires you’ve piled up over the years or months you’ve spent on this app.

Those years and months speak dangerous words, words that you finally have to hear. But it’s not my fault it’s come to it.

You’re NEVER going to get what you want. Save those vision boards for nap time, because that’s the closest you’ll ever get to seeing them. Yes, in your LITERAL dreams.

Ouch, that’s got to hurt.

“I’ll try to enter the void state again tonight.” Yes. Exactly. You’ll TRY again. And you’ll try again the night after that, and the night after that, and the night after that. And it will NEVER end. You’ve been at it for a while now.

“I’ll try THIS method tonight.” Yeah, and you’ll be looking for a new method by tomorrow. And so on, and so on, and so on.

Same goes for your manifestations.

“I’ll persist later!!!” Yes. Exactly. You’ll persist “later.” Later as in, next week? next month? next Year? Seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, months turn in to years, and years turn into decades, and decades turn into small little segments of your tragic little life, spent doing what? Trying? Procrastinating? Sulking? Or living the life of your dreams? Call it Russian roulette, but YOU’RE the one holding the gun to your head.

The cycle never ends. The tragic thing is, it starts with an undisciplined, lazy & hopeless person. And ends with the same undisciplined, lazy & hopeless person.

Why?

Take a wild guess. You’ve tumbled onto tumblr, figured out that you could live the life of your dreams, and did NOTHING about it, other than TRY.

Well, trying was never the answer.

All you ever had to do was just change your PATHETIC assumptions, into more….ideal ones.

Changing your assumptions are COMPULSORY! Not to rain on your parade, but this is a rain parade from hell. Purely tragic. Maybe you’ll start applying to get out of this endless loop.

And sorry to crush your hopeless little dreams, but you aren’t going to get ANYWHERE if you don’t change them. You are NEVER going to enter the void state. You are NEVER going to be a master manifestor.

Looks like that 9-5 is going to land you on highway 95.

Do I have to run you over, leave you bedridden, not able to move a muscle, for you to just PERSIST. Because your mind is all it takes. Nobody asked you to run a marathon. Yet you’re actually running a marathon, in the opposite direction of your dreams.

Well, all I can say is, keep running.

At the end of the day, ACCEPTANCE is all that matters. Accept that you will never have anything you want, or just accept that you already have everything you want.

If this isn’t the wake up call that wakes you up!!! NOTHING will.

All I can say now is, if you’re still roaming this app by the end of February, I feel BAD for you. I’m not saying that’s how long it will take, but if it does, then yikes! And we all know one thing about Gossip Girl, I LOVE to wreak havoc. But you’re already doing that FOR me. So thank you, and goodbye. Now say goodbye back, along with your precious desires.

Too bad that your dreams are going to just stay as dreams.

Bye Bye.

(So not you, by the way):

[bbokicidal]

Slashers - OT8 [SKZ]

Disclaimers : Just a small post I thought would be fun to make. Also - this is all just for GOOD FUN for the month of October and spooky season. These killers are nasty and awful and we all know that - I am in no way saying the Stray Kids members are represented by these slashers (who are fictional characters remember) and I do not mean to say 'they're exactly like these awful people.' because that's just dumb. Don't go thinking that now. C'mon. Common sense.

Warnings : None really, just horror movie slashers included

If you want a part two of the members as other horror movie characters (maybe finals girls/guys or more recent characters?) lmk!

Bangchan : Michael Myers [Halloween]

Honestly mostly just picked this because of his physique and the way I am so wildly attracted to both of them. But I also just think Chan's got that Lowkey scary dad stance down. Also the way he stands back to watch others. Yes, I know it's lovey dovey towards the group but imagine him as Michael just stalking the others?????? (Why's it kinda hot,,,)

He'd spent months planning his first attack. Hours standing, staring, figuring out the habits and movements of his younger friends until he had all of their mannerisms in his head - memorized like the veins in the back of his hand. He knew who was the weakest link. Who he shouldn't target. Who would be easy to mark off the list. Jisung just had back luck being the first name he put down on his notepad.

Chan as Michael Myers, my beloved.

Lee Know : Billy 'Ghostface' Loomis [Scream]

The actually scary one who's full of determination and purpose. The one who actually gets the job done. The one who does it and does it well. Also, wildly sexy. So. I think Minho fits Billy Loomis best because he can be cunning, secretive, but also charming and wild at the same time. We love him.

Minho wasn't stupid - not like his accomplice. He let Jisung distract people - be the life of the party while he himself lured Felix out to the garage to get a beer or two. He dismissed himself, saying he forgot something in the house, before coming back only to find Felix frightened at first sight and scrambling to escape the outer part of the home. And he felt little remorse as he watched Felix try to squirm out through the doggy door - his thumb clicking the switch to make the garage door slowly raise.

Minho as Billy Loomis, hehe.

Changbin : Pyramid Head [Silent Hill]

Not a 'classic slasher' because he's not the main villain of the story but EASILY the best pic for Changbin because WHEWIE those arms. Also?? Changbin dragging around a giant knife and just picking people up by their necks? Good GAWD. Pyramid Head Binnie (shirtless,, Binnie,,,,,) is a need for me.

He was just there - existing. Wandering. Dragging his knife around until the ground cracked and broke under the weight as he walked. He was just... there. Until someone appeared - a pretty boy with long brunette hair that fought for his life in this hellhole of a place. Someone for him to wander after. Someone for him to target.

Changbin as Pyramid Head <3

Hyunjin : Chucky [Chucky]

Honestly mainly just picked this one because 1) Hyunjin as a doll would be wild lol, and 2) Hyunjin who looks so cute and precious and like a normal man at first but ends up being a wild fucking mass murderer?? That would be,, actually so fitting because he's such a cutie at first and then gets on stage and it's like WHOHOAH--

Finding his soul trapped in the body of a doll was the last thing he wanted to happen after his death - but Hyunjin found that this doll was a lot more flexible than he expected. He could curl his fingers, move his eyes, talk even. It was just like his body before - only harder to break, and a lot... smaller.

Anyway, Hyunjin as Chucky. Also red hair Hyunjin supremacy, I said what I said.

Han : Stu "Ghostface" Macher [Scream]

The silly one that keeps messing up. The one who works hard but still somehow fumbles it. The one that needs help. The one who really got roped into it just because he's massively gay for his best friend.

After botching another murder and making a pact with his friend to frame the girl for their killings, Jisung dug the blade into his friend before Minho did the same. He clutched his stomach and fell to the counter, only moving to grip the phone as it rang just beside his head. He sobbed out another gasp that his parents would be so disappointed in him - another babble from Jisung that Minho didn't have time to deal with.

Jisung as Stu Macher, aka the gay icon of the scream series, everyone.

Felix : Tiffany Valentine [Chucky]

Definitely did not pick this bc of his hair. (oops) Anyway. Just there for the shits n giggles, does it for the person he loves and adores so dearly. Didn't even initially mean to be a part of it but got pulled into it somehow anyway lol. Also an absolute baddie.

How'd he get here? He wasn't too sure. What he did know was that he was glued to his best friend for the rest of his life now, trapped in the small but definitely not fragile bodies of dolls for eternity. He was happy to be there, if he was honest, just enjoying being everlasting with someone he adored. Even if he was put into the body of a ... woman? Well. Doll-Woman.

Felix as Tiffany Valentine. ~

Seungmin : Jason Voorhees [Friday The 13th]

Seungmin as a reoccurring character who experienced nothing but tragedy in his past and now comes back to his place of 'death' every year to haunt people who get so much as a fucking mile from him. LOOOOVE this idea. Love the image of Seungmin just hovering around a Summer Camp and lurking like a little creeper. Also Seungmin with a machete is too much for me, cannot. I gotta go.

Seungmin enjoyed lurking around the camp if he was honest. He found himself feeling joy in watching the camp-goers wander around so clueless as to the tragedy that occurred in the waters they swam in, playing and having too much for his liking. No - He didn't feel joy in watching them have fun. He felt joy in hearing their screams the following night when he made them aware of his presence; when he showed them the truth that lay in the grounds of that poor Summer Camp.

Seungmin as Jason Voorhees. ;))

I.N : Pennywise [IT]

Not a classic slasher yet again BUT one of the best in my personal opinion. (It's one of my fav horror movies so.) I think Jeongin fits Pennywise because of his teasing nature, the way he finds it funny when he irks his hyungs, etc. I also think he has a relatively short -- temper? Temper might not be the right word. Maybe patience is right. He's impatient and if he doesn't get what he wants, he'll snap. Also the idea of shapeshifter Jeongin?? Torturing people by showing up as their literal living nightmares? Yum yum yum.

Jeongin was hungry. Starved, even. Twenty seven years after falling into a slumber, he'd awoke under a quaint town that offered up so many delicious meal options - which included a very pretty man more muscular than the others - who, conveniently, was a bit of a scaredy cat.

Jeongin as Pennywise !!

-

Taglist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren

[seokgyuu]

hello mitchie beloved 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ how abt joshua and consensual free use/somnophilia <3 i'm in dire straits rn and i actually need to get used by this man for his own pleasure 24/7 🫶 /hj

++ hugs and kisses for being one of the sweetest people ever actually !!

A/N: kai, my beloved! i hope this is to your liking! thanks for the request, i loved writing it!! sending you love and hugs and kisses back <3

PAIRING: Joshua x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Smut MDNI!

WARNINGS: free use/somnophilia, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation (usage of the word slut) creampie

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

Request are open! Check out my 1k special!

Smut under the cut

the thought of your boyfriend using you for his own pleasure has always been one that extremely excited you. joshua was sweet, a true angel most of the time. funny and kind and always trying to make you feel good, to take care of your needs before his own. for the longest time you felt almost ashamed of wanting him to use you whenever he wanted, but at some point you decided that the worst thing that could happen would be him saying he wasn’t really into that. and you’d be fine because it wasn’t like your sex life wasn’t fulfilling enough. 

what you had not expected was him growing beet red, his eyes wide in something like shock when you tell him. he is baffled, speechless really. and it takes him a few minutes to regain his composure. you smile at him, caress his hand and reassure him that it is just a thought. he is not obligated to act on your wish if he doesn’t feel comfortable. when he asks you what exactly you mean when you say whenever he wants, your answer makes him swallow. it makes his cock twitch in his underwear. it makes his mind go wild with thoughts he normally wouldn’t allow himself to have. you were his princess, his everything, so precious and good. you deserved to be pampered, to be treated like a queen. never would he ever allow himself to… but now this. now you’re telling him you want him to use you and it begins a process in his brain. 

a few days go by and you think joshua might just not be into it. and you’re cool with that. you go through your day as you usually do until one evening you come home from work and joshua is sitting at the dining table with his laptop and work notes scattered around. he looks up at you when you enter the room and gets up, his ears as red as his face a few days ago.

“baby,” he begins, his hands finding your hips and he kisses you once, twice, before placing his forehead against yours. 

“josh, what is it?” you ask, worried, one of your hands cupping his cheek. he licks his lips.

“what we discussed the other day… about me and you and…,” he looks at you and you know what he means, a small smile on your lips as you nod.

“well i was thinking … do you- do you really mean it when you say i can use you when you’re asleep?” 

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but you are quick to nod. just the thought of it alone makes your cunt clench. 

“yes, honey, i mean it. i really… really would love for you to use me when i’m sleeping, or… any time at all, really. just want you to feel good, joshy.” 

your sultry voice and the way you look at him almost make him bend you over the table, doing as you wish right there. but there is still a report he needs to finish and so he just nods, kissing your cheek with a semi hard cock in his pants before sitting back down. 

he lays awake that night while you’re sound asleep. he had been worried you might not be able to sleep after what you’d discussed but here you are now. soft and cute snores proving you are really gone, one hand tucked under your cheek while the other lays flatly on the mattress. you are laying on your side, your backside turned to joshua and he contemplates. his cock has been hard for hours he feels. his heart is beating rapidly, even echoing in his ears and he thinks back to the words you had said a few days ago as well as tonight. you want him to use you. want him to feel good. so you would definitely be okay if he-

he finds himself pressed against your ass five seconds later. his cock is right there between your cheeks, still behind his boxers, but, god, does it feel good. he moans quietly, one hand moving to the front of you, touching your tit over your (his) sleep shirt. he wonders if your nipple will harden when you touch it. another moan escapes his throat when it does. he lets his hand slide underneath your shirt, thumb and index twirling your nipple, his cock growing even harder against your backside. he kisses the back of your neck, licks the spot underneath your ear and finally moves to touch you between your legs. 

joshua loves your pussy. loves it so much he literally can’t get enough of it. ever since your first conversation about this topic, he hadn’t touched you, so he’s a little scared of coming sooner than later. still, he feels your folds underneath your panties, letting a finger get coated in your juices to eventually push it inside, your tight walls clenching around him right away. he groans again, beginning to rock his hips against your ass, the friction making his eyes roll back. he ruts against you, free hand getting his cock out to actually feel your skin against his hard length and, fuck, it feels heavenly. he soon adds another finger, stretching your cunt open, letting it get adjusted before he’d finally sink into you and fuck you until he filled you to the brim. 

“so good for me even when asleep… my perfect princess,” he whispers, softly shoving you onto your stomach, leaving your cunt open for him to access. he licks his lips, lets his hand pump his cock a few times, before finally pulling out his fingers and replacing them with his leaking cock. 

the moan he lets out when he feels you around him almost wakes you up. just almost. your body reacts accordingly to what is happening - your pussy sucking him in as it always does, dripping onto the sheets as if your subconscious knows how fucking hot you find this. it probably does. joshua bottoms out, his hands are on either side of you, his hips rutting against your ass, cock now going in and out of your pussy in a speed that has him see stars. 

“f-fucking hell, such a good, perfect pussy, sh-shit,” he can’t keep his voice or his noises down and it doesn’t come as a surprise that you wake up with arousal shaking your whole body, all sleepiness gone within mere seconds. you cry out, your hands gripping the bed sheets as your cunt clenches around joshua’s cock over and over again.

“j-josh!” you whimper and he looks down at your face, sees your eyes staring at him, the hotness radiating from you. something inside of him shifts and his angelic demeanor disappears once and for all as he moves one hand to push your head into the mattress, his thrusts getting harder.

“such a slut, wants to get used like a toy doesn’t she? wants her cunt to be nothing but a cumrag, wants to wake up in the morning with it still dripping out of her, fuck,” he hears your cries against the mattress, feels you coming on his cock, the waves of pleasure almost getting him off the edge too.

“o-oh my god- j-josh, don’t stop!” you know there is more, know he can make you come at least one more time and joshua picks up his pace again, letting off your head and instead wrapping his arm around you to press his thumb down on your clit, your whole body jerking as you arch your back.

“what a good slut i got myself, such a good filthy slut, isn’t that right?” his eyes can’t stay open anymore, his hips moving at an uncontrollable speed and the second you cry out that, yes, you are nothing but a filthy slut, his cum shoots out his cock and into you, his moans music to your ears as he gets you over the edge once more, fucking the both of you through your orgasms. 

josh collapses on top of you, heavy breath against your ear and you feel sweat rolling down your forehead. your pussy is still pulsating around his softening cock and joshua jerks forward once again, kissing your neck.

“you’re incredible,” he mumbles against your skin and you chuckle, turning your head so you could see him a little better.

“i know,” you grin back and joshua laughs before pulling out of you and going back to his angelic self, walking to the bathroom to get you a warm wet cloth to clean yourself up.

[rollingsins]

Quinn Bailey Must Die, p2

P1 | P2 | P3

summary: Quinn Bailey continues her quest to conquer the Carpenter sisters. Well, one of them, at least. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Implied sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 6.1k

a/n: set in the all hers universe, sequel to the first. wanted to try something a lil different - this is mostly from Sam's POV. There will be at least one other part after this one. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Sam’s bed is shaking when she wakes. 

She has a fan plugged into the wall. Military grade earplugs. A white noise machine. 

And yet, every morning, she wakes to the sound of a squeaking mattress and you moaning like you’re on a casting couch for a bad 60s porno. 

Aggravated, she sits up. Launches a pillow at the wall in the hope it will quell your happy groans. 

It doesn’t. 

“Tara, YN!” She yells, more than fed up, “Shut up! Shut the fuck up.”

You hear Tara groan through the walls. A quiet shush. The bed stops shaking. Sam slumps back into her pillows, content. 

Tara has never cared, but at least you can be shamed into silence. 

She closes her eyes, snuggles back into her pillows for a couple more hours of precious sleep. 

A few minutes go by, and just as Sam is on the cusp of unconsciousness, she hears you let out another, loud moan. 

“Oh, Tara-” 

Sam sits up. 

Fuck this, she thinks as she grouchily shimmies back into an old hoodie, I’ll sleep outside. 

-

When Sam returns to the kitchen - after seventy minutes of tossing and turning with a pillow and a blanket in the apartment hallway - Tara has the audacity to look pleased with herself. 

She’s wearing one of your old t-shirts, absent-mindedly stroking your hair as she sips on a cup of coffee. As if her bedroom activities hadn’t driven Sam out of hers. 

Sam is fuming. Her cheeks are red as she slams her bedding onto the couch. 

You turn at the same time Tara does. 

“What’s up, Sam?” Asks Tara, like she doesn’t know the answer, “You look like you’ve just been dragged through a bush backwards.” 

“You know what’s up,” Sam growls. She snatches a mug from the kitchen counter and pours herself a healthy helping of coffee, “How many times do I have to tell you-“ 

“Relax, Sam,” Tara says with a roll of her eyes, “We didn’t realize you were awake. We’re sorry-“

“I wasn’t awake until you woke me,” Sam says, jabbing a finger towards her nonplussed sister, “This is ridiculous. It’s the third time this week. If you two can’t respect my boundaries-” 

Your face is a little hot. You shoot an apologetic look towards Sam, “We’re sorry, Sam,” You say, “We get… carried away sometimes.” 

But Tara looks annoyed. 

“This is our home,” Says Tara, “If we want to fuck, we will. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to-”

Sam slams her hand to the counter, making you jump. 

“You asked me to come here,” She growls. She looks a little wild; red cheek, hair messy and ruffled, dark, tired eyes, “You asked me to pitch in. If you want me to go, I’m taking my share of the rent with me.” 

Tara crosses her arms, unhappily. 

“I’m doing the two of you a favor by being here. You think I can afford to pay New York City rent and California rent? The least you can do is not have loud sex at six AM-” Continues Sam, voice strained. 

“You’re right, we’re sorry, Sam,” You interject, eyebrows pinched, “Right, babe? We’ll be quieter.” 

Tara’s quiet for a moment, but Sam knows her sister. She knows the things Tara’s thinking in her head, and none of them are favorable. 

“I have a life back in California,” Sam warns, “If you want me to go, I’ll go. But I’m taking my money with me.” 

Tara’s brows knit. 

“We don’t want that,” You say, quickly, “We’re very grateful you decided to help us out. Right, Tara?”

“Very grateful,” Tara says, voice tight, “Sorry, Sam.” 

She pauses a moment. 

“Babe, you’ve got the ad up, right?” 

Sam ignores the spark of annoyance that floods through her and grabs her lunch.

She sighs right before she heads out. Decides she doesn't want to start her day swimming in negativity. 

“Bye, YN. Love you, Tara.” 

“Bye Sam,” You say, with a small smile, “Have a good day.”

Sam waits a moment.

“Bye, Tara.” She says, once more. 

Tara rolls her eyes, “Bye Sam. What, you need me to walk you out or something?” 

Sam just sighs and leaves. 

-

Sam has a new job at NYU. 

A job she loves. 

Her life so far? Deadbeat father, emotionally absent mother. A murderous psychopath as a biological father. A murderous psychopath as an ex-boyfriend. 

It hasn’t panned out the way she was hoping. 

Nowadays, there’s only two bright sparks in her life. 

Her baby sister, and her job. 

What more could a girl need? 

She’s working in the history department, a subject she’s always been good at. Tutoring students who apparently don’t share her prowess for the past. 

Her first assignment is a nineteen year old boy with straight D grades. Her second is a girl who point blank asks if “the Nazis won the Korean War?” 

Her third strolls into the library now. 

Doesn’t bother to introduce herself. She walks in like she owns the place. Settles herself next to Sam with a coy look in her eye and flutter of her eyelashes. 

“Hi,” Says the girl, with a coy smile. A smile that is far too friendly for discussing the Yom Kippur war. 

Sam blinks.

“Hi,” She says, a little taken aback. She gets ahold of herself, “I’m Sam. I’ll be your tutor for the next semester.” 

This girl has long, flowing strawberry-blonde hair. Piercing blue eyes. She’s wearing a shirt that rides up over her belly button and a pair of pants that are so tight they look as if they were painted on. 

The girl watches for a moment. Surveys Sam - like a hungry wolf might appraise a rabbit. 

And then she grins. 

“We actually know each other,” Says the girl, “At least - we know of each other.”

Sam tilts her head. 

“Oh?” 

“I know your sister,” Says the girl, and her smile turns sheepish, “I used to live with her. Before she kicked me out.” 

Sam blinks. 

“You’re Quinn Bailey,” Sam realizes with a start. 

Quinn’s cheeks pinch in a tight smile. 

“Guilty,” She says with a nervous laugh, “Sorry. This is awkward. I didn’t know the school was going to pair me with you. I mean - I didn’t even know you worked here.” 

Sam leans back a little, suddenly on guard. 

“It’s fine,” She says, “I’ll ask you to be assigned to another tutor.” 

Quinn squints. 

“Actually, you can’t,” Says Quinn, sounding apologetic, “There’s only two history tutors - I checked. The other guy’s out for the next two weeks.” She leans in close, eyebrows in her hairline, “Mono.” 

She pauses. 

“Sorry, this must be awkward for you. But I really do need help. My first paper is due next Thursday.” 

Sam sighs.

“Look, Quinn,” She says, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea after you-“ 

“Threw myself at your sister?” Quinn finishes. Her face is tight - she looks a little embarrassed, “I get it. I do. But you’re the only one who can help me.” 

Sam tilts her head.

Quinn reaches over, takes Sam’s hand. 

“Please.” 

Clearly, it’s been too long since Sam felt the warmth of human touch. Because Quinn’s hand on hers ignites a spark that sends shockwaves through her body. 

You need a boyfriend, she thinks momentarily, badly. 

Sam retracts her hand, squinting slightly. 

And remembers the horror stories Tara had bellowed down the phone line. 

“Those girls are very special to me,” She says, “What you tried to do? It’s despicable.” 

Quinn looks dismayed as Sam stands. 

“Sorry,” Sam says as she straps her back over her shoulder, “You’ll have to find someone else.” 

-

Tara’s in a mood when Sam gets home that night. 

She orders takeout, instead of eating Sam’s meticulously planned, healthy vegan curry. She ignores Sam’s attempts at conversation, and turns the TV a little louder when Sam tries to offer her dessert. 

Sam gives up, not long after. 

She eats dinner by herself, trying not to let her mind drift to Quinn. 

“Please,” She’d murmured, “I really need your help.” 

Weird, she thinks. Quinn’s touch had imprinted on her mind all night. For such a devilish, evil, homewrecker - she’d seemed kind of sweet. Hopeless, almost. 

Like a lost little child, adorned in red lipstick and Michael Kors. 

But then she remembers her sister. 

You arrive home, not long after Sam’s finishing her plate, batting Quinn’s easy smile out of her brain. 

You press a kiss to Tara’s forehead, offer Sam a small smile. 

And then you throw your bag down to the floor and disappear into your bedroom. 

“Good day, Sam?” You ask when you emerge, towel over your shoulders. 

Sam hums. 

“Weird day,” She admits. She shakes her head as she catches your questioning stare, “Nevermind.” 

You watch her a moment, and then reach down to squeeze Tara’s shoulders. 

“I’m taking a shower. Pick a movie for us?” You say with a quick kiss to her cheek. 

“Sure, babe,” Tara says. 

And then she sits up long enough to shoot a glare over at Sam. 

“Just be careful not to shower too loudly,” Tara says, “We wouldn’t want to interrupt Sam’s precious relaxation time. Who knows? She might threaten to not pay the water bill next time.” 

Irritation flashes through Sam, hot and fast.  

She’d been up at six AM again. Her sister is the culprit. And somehow she’s the bad guy? 

“Stop being a brat, Tara,” Sam says, voice tight, “You’ll be twenty next year, you better start acting like it.” 

“And is that when I’ll be as demanding and bitchy and sexless as you?” Tara deadpans. 

Sam lets her cutlery clatter over her plate. Rage simmers in the pit of her stomach that begs to be unleashed. Primarily on her ungrateful shit-head of a sister. 

I move across the country to bail you out, she wants to scream, and you can’t even be hospitable? 

But you get there first. 

“Stop it.” You say, pulling the remote from her hand, and tugging her up, “You are being a brat. Apologize to Sam and go to bed.” 

Tara glares up at you. 

“But babe-“ 

“Now,” You warn, “Or it’ll be your turn to sleep in the hall.” 

Tara’s face clouds over. 

It’s a familiar look to Sam. 

It’s the one she used to give to their Father. Right after she’d choked Sam, or punched her, or pulled her hair.

Her fake apology face.

“Sorry Sam,” She mumbles, as she stands, looking anything but, “Try earplugs next time, maybe.”

“Bed.” You say, “Now.” 

Tara storms off to bed, shooting a withering glare over to Sam as she leaves. 

Sam’s lips twitch. 

She’s used to this - Tara taking her anger out on her. She’s done their whole lives. 

It doesn’t mean it hurts any less. 

You sigh, throwing your towel over one of the dining chairs. 

“Sorry,” You say, “You know what she’s like sometimes.” 

“That therapy is really working wonders, huh?” Asks Sam, a little sarcastic. Her hands are shaking, a little. 

You bite your lip, sinking into the seat opposite her.

“Good days and bad days,” You say, “Dr Colmann says miracles aren’t going to happen overnight.” 

“That girl needs a miracle.” Sam says, a little frosty. Then, she softens, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m not trying to put you in the middle.” 

“It’s fine, Sam,” You say, “I know she can be a handful. We’re talking about all the stuff she used to do as a kid in therapy.” 

Sam snorts. 

“You mean like when she cut off all the heads of my teddy bears because I wouldn’t let her blow out the candles on my birthday cake?” 

You blink, a little taken aback. 

“No,” You say, slowly, “She kept that one quiet.”

“You better not be talking about me.” Tara’s voice sounds down the hall, hot and angry. 

You look from Sam long enough to shoot a glare down the hall, “And you better be in bed. I mean it, Tara. I’ll be there in five.” 

Tara huffs, but retreats, nonetheless.

You look back over to Sam, who has a contemplative look on her face. 

“I met Quinn Bailey today,” She says. 

You stare. 

“Why?” Is what you ask, and then you frown, “She’s not trying to worm her way back in here, is she? Because that’s not happening.” 

“The only thing she’s trying to worm her way into is an A+ on her history paper,” Sam says, “I told her to forget it.” 

You’re quiet a moment, and then you nod. 

“Thanks Sam,” You say, “Can you do that? Send her away? Isn’t it your job?” 

Sam shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” She admits, honestly, “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” 

-

“You can’t turn her away Sam, it’s your job.” Says Sam’s supervisor, sternly, in the morning, “The poor girl was in here in tears last night. There’s no one else.” 

Sam pauses. 

“It’s just-“ She tries, “She has a complicated relationship with my sister and her girlfriend. They used to be roommates. She made some unwanted advances and they kicked her out. I can’t tutor her. It’s a conflict of interest.”

Her supervisor smiles, a little passive aggressive. 

“Spend less time worrying about conflicts of interest Sam,” He tells her, “And more time teaching them”. 

He punctuates his point by tapping down on a book about Palestine. 

And Sam sighs. 

-

“I could just quit,” Sam says later, over a sad looking salad in the cafeteria with Mindy, “I mean, I only took this job because Tara asked me to help out with rent for a bit.” 

Mindy looks over, eyebrows raised.

“Doesn’t quitting your job defeat the purpose of helping Tara with rent?” She asks.

Sam bites her lip. 

“I suppose…” She admits, “Though it wouldn’t be too hard to get a new one. It’s not like the pay is that great, anyway.” 

“I thought you loved your new job,” Says Mindy, “You were saying only last week how good it feels to finally have something fulfilling in your life.” 

“It’s just a job, at the end of the day, Mindy,” Says Sam. She ponders this over a mouthful of lettuce, “Besides, Tara is my sister. She comes first.” 

Mindy purses her lips. 

“And you think she would do the same for you?” Asks Mindy, after a moment, “Quit her job for you? Fly across the country and move into your apartment to bail her out?” 

Sam straightens her shoulders. 

“I’d like to think so,” She says, somewhat defensively.

Even if she doesn’t believe it. 

Mindy shakes her head with a sigh. 

“She won’t even stop banging her girl at six AM for you,” Mindy says, “She won’t even let you get a decent night’s sleep.”

“They’ve said they’ll be quieter.” Sam says, softly. 

Mindy shoots her a look. 

“And how many times have they told you that?” She asks. 

Sam averts her gaze. 

Too many times to count. 

“Don’t do her any favors, Sam.” 

Sam stares. 

“And I thought she was supposed to be your friend?” Sam asks, somewhat pointedly. 

“She is,” Says Mindy, “She’s my friend. And I love her. But she’s selfish as fuck, Sam. You know that. You’re related to that. You’re already being a good big sister. But you don’t have to give up everything for her, Sam. Do something for yourself for once.” 

“And Quinn Bailey is me doing something for myself?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised. 

“If she lets you keep the job you love, sure.” Says Mindy, “Tara will get over it. Besides, you’re only tutoring the girl. What’s the worst that can happen?” 

Sam chews her lip. 

And considers it. 

-

“I’ll help you,” She tells Quinn, a little later over the phone, “Despite my better judgment, I’ll help you.” 

Quinn lets out a breathy sigh, “Oh, Sam - thank you so much-“ 

“I’m not doing it for you,” Sam says, voice stern, “And we’re not friends. I don’t want you coming to the apartment and upsetting my sister and her girlfriend. We’ll meet at the library, every evening around eight. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Quinn agrees, before she hesitates, “It’s not about Tara, Sam, I really just need the help.” 

Sam hums. 

“See you tonight.” 

-

“You’re meeting who at the library?” Tara explodes over the dinner table. 

Sam sighs. Helps herself to more potatoes. 

“I don’t have a choice, Tara,” She says, “It’s my job.” 

But Tara’s eyes are wide as if Sam has betrayed her. 

This is how Tara works. Black and white, no shades of gray. 

Mindy’s words echo through Sam’s head.

Don’t do her any favors, Sam. 

You touch Tara’s arm. 

“It’s alright, Sam, we know,” You say, voice gentle. 

“Are you doing this to punish me?” Tara asks, eyebrows knit, “You don’t like us fucking loudly and so for revenge you’re going to tutor the girl who tried to destroy our relationship?” 

“I need the money, Tara,” Sam says, voice tired, “If I lose this job I won’t be able to chip in for rent.” 

“So get a new job,” Tara says, immediately, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable request. 

“I like my job.” Says Sam, “I’m not getting a new one.” 

Tara splutters. She looks over to you, wide-eyed, “And you’re okay with this?” She asks, in disbelief. 

“Tara,” You say, knitting your brows, “It’s not our decision-” 

“Like hell, it’s not,” Says Tara, “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“There are no sides, Tara.” Sam says, “This isn’t world war three - as much as you’d like it to be. I’m helping her out because I’ll get fired if I don’t. I’ve already told her she’s not coming to the apartment. You won’t have to see her. If she tries anything, I’ll shut it down. Alright?”

You touch Tara’s back. 

“It’s fine, Sam,” You say, quietly, “Baby, it’s okay. We’re not seeing her again.” 

“Yeah, right.” Tara scoffs, “Please. This is just another one of her ploys.” 

She looks over at Sam. 

“She tried to steal me, Sam, we told you that, right?” She says, sounding scandalized. 

Sam rolls her eyes. 

“Yes, you told me that,” Says Sam, “And it didn’t count for shit because you’re a loyal girlfriend and your head couldn’t be turned. Right?” 

Tara thinks. She blinks as if her brain is short-circuiting. 

“Right.” She says, voice slow. 

“Perfect,” Sam says, voice dry, as she stands, “Look, Tara, please don’t be mad at me. You know I wouldn’t see her if I had the choice.” 

Tara folds her arms. 

Sam sighs. 

She leans down to press a kiss to the top of Tara’s head. 

But Tara jerks away. 

“Go, Sam, you’re going to do what you want anyway." She says, sounding surly. 

Sam slips her bag over her shoulder. 

“Bye, girls.” She says, a little dejected, “Love you.” 

But it falls on deaf ears.  

-

You and Tara are arguing when Sam leaves. 

“Why do you care so much, Tara?” You ask, voice hot, “You’re scared she’ll try to kiss you again and you won’t be able to resist?” 

“Baby, that’s ridiculous.” Tara says, outraged, “I don’t want to see her again because she upsets you.” 

Sam sighs, and clicks the door closed. 

The sound of both your voices echoing down the hall. 

Your neighbors must hate you. 

When Sam arrives in the library, Quinn’s already there.

“Hey,” She says, voice bright, and then pauses, “Thanks for coming.” 

“It’s my job,” Sam reminds her, voice a little tight. 

“Well, regardless, thanks.” Says Quinn. 

She sets her books down, slips into the seat next to Sam, wide-eyed and eager. Sam appraises her. 

She’s dressed a little inappropriately for a library study session. 

Short skirt, crop top. Her hair in pigtails, face flush with eyeliner and blush. 

Sam ignores the flutter that settles in her belly and pulls up a chair. 

“Was YN mad you decided to tutor me?” Is her first question. 

Sam opens her book, and points to the first sentence. 

“We’re not talking about them,” She says. 

Quinn chews her lips. 

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Quinn says, “You seem really nice, Sam, you don’t deserve that.” 

“Quinn.” Sam says, a little on edge. 

Like she’s starting to think this is a mistake. 

“Sorry,” Says Quinn, settling onto her elbows, “You’re right. Let’s not talk about them. Tell me all about the Yom Kippur War.” 

And Sam does. 

It’s a little difficult. 

Much more difficult than teaching her other students. Quinn doesn’t take her eyes off her. She plays with her hair, bats her eyelids, licks her lips. 

Sam clears her throat, starting to feel like prey. 

But then Quinn changes the topic. 

“I hope you’re ready to be the most consistent person in my life, Sam,” She says, blowing her hair out of her eyes, “Every night. I think if you were to define my dating life, comedy would be the word that springs to mind.” 

Sam raises her eyebrows. 

“Mine too,” She mumbles. 

Quinn rolls her eyes and sighs. 

“Tell me about it. I always pick the wrong guy,” Says Quinn, sounding a little frustrated, “Or girl most recently. Always the emotionally unavailable ones - or the physically unavailable ones. I think there's something wrong with me. Like a romance disease.” 

Sam cracks a smile. 

“I think we’ve got the same illness,” She teases, “I have a similar track record.” 

Quinn sits a little straighter. 

“Oh, yeah?” She asks, “Like who?”

Flashes of Richie blindsight Sam. His smile. His laugh. They way he’d kissed her.

The way he’d lied to her. 

Tried to literally murder her sister. 

Sam swallows, bad taste suddenly filling her mouth. 

“No-one,” She says, hurriedly, “Just a bad ex-boyfriend.” 

Quinn nods. 

“I have a few of those,” She says, and then she bites her lip. 

Sam reverts to feeling like prey. Something weird simmers in the depths of her belly as she meets Quinn’s piercing gaze. 

“Have you only had boyfriends?” Quinn enquiries suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere.  

Sam’s eyes flicker up. 

“Enough about boyfriends,” She says, clearing her throat, “Back to the Yom Kippur War.” 

Quinn’s smile is sly. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” 

“I’ve only had boyfriends, and I only ever will.” Sam says, voice flat, “Now, the war.” 

“How come?” Quinn blinks, wide-eyed, “You never wondered? You never tried it?” 

“No,” Sam says, “Quinn, please.”

Quinn bites her lip. 

“Fine,” She says, with a stretch, “I’ll stop busting your balls.” 

Her eyes flicker up to Sam’s. 

“As long as you remember - balls aren’t the only option.” 

-

Mindy howls over lunch. 

“It’s not that funny, Mindy,” Sam says, looking around. Well aware people are starting to stare, “Hey, shut up. I’m in a crisis here.” 

Mindy draws her shoulders. Takes a deep breath. But her face breaks out immediately. 

Her laugh turns into a snort. 

“I’m sorry, Sam, it’s just too good-“ She says, between breaths, “She really said that?” 

Sam nods. It sets Mindy off once more. 

“Damn this girl has an agenda,” Mindy says, still laughing, “She wants into those Carpenter panties, she really doesn’t care who’s wearing them.” 

“Stop being gross and help me,” Sam hisses. 

“Just tell her you like dick,” Mindy says, with a shrug, finally calming down. 

“I think we’ve established I tried that already,” Says Sam, cheeks flushed, “I get the impression no means yes to her. You know what - I know it for a fact.” 

She chews her lip. 

“Maybe I should just quit.” 

“Relax, Sam,” Says Mindy, with a groan, “This Quinn girl - she’s persistent, sure. But I doubt she’s dangerous or anything. Worst she’ll do is try to kiss you. Hey, then maybe you can put her in a headlock too. Give you and Tara something to bond about.” 

Sam glares. 

Mindy holds back another laugh. 

“Look - say you quit - then what? You get another job, waiting tables or working at a movie theater and hate your life. More than you already hate it.” 

Sam scowls. 

“I don’t hate my life,” She says. 

Mindy nods. 

“Sure, but you don’t love it. Let’s see,” She lists them off on her fingers, “No college degree, no boyfriend, no parents, your friends are a bunch of kids you used to babysit, and your alarm is having to listen to your sister take her girlfriend to pound town every morning.” 

Sam’s ears flame red. 

“You’re disgusting,” She says, voice flat, “And my life is just fine, thank you.” 

Mindy shrugs. 

“If you say so,” She says, slurping at her milkshake. She pauses, “God, that just made me sad. Maybe you should bang Quinn.” 

“Very helpful,” Sam grumbles, as she stands, “Thanks Mindy.” 

-

Sam gets home late - on purpose. 

The last thing she wants to do is deal with the changing winds of Tara’s mood swings. Or even worse - the “I told you so”, which she’s sure is to come. 

She hits the gym. 

Tries to decompress her own thoughts. 

Quinn is only trying to get close to Tara, she reasons, Quinn wants you because she can’t have your sister. 

Her treadmill jog turns into a sprint. 

And you’re straight.  

It’s dark by the time Sam gets home. 

But when she enters the apartment, expecting an empty living room - Tara’s sprawled across the couch. 

The lights are out, and Sam squints as she makes out her sister's figure. 

Tara sits up, like she’s been waiting for her. 

Storm in her eyes. 

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Says Tara, arms crossed. The couch has been transformed into a makeshift bed, in which she is clearly sleeping in. 

Alone. 

“Your new best buddy Quinn has caused disarray in my relationship.” 

Sam sighs, setting down her bag. 

“What happened?” She asks, reaching into the fridge for a beer. Alcohol is always necessary when Tara is like this. 

Tara crosses her arms. 

“You know what happened,” She says, “We got rid of Quinn and you brought her back into our lives.” 

“Quinn’s not in your life, Tara,” Sam reminds her, “She’s barely in mine. You really think she’s worth picking arguments over?” 

Tara frowns. 

“I didn’t pick an argument,” Tara says, “You’re the one who brought it up.” 

“And so you’re sleeping on the couch?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised, “What did you say?” 

Tara huffs. 

“Why do you always assume it was me who said something?” She asks.

“Because it usually is.” Sam retorts. She lifts the beer to her lips and takes a long swig. 

Tara’s quiet. 

“I just suggested we should… maybe help you look for a new job or something.” 

Sam stares. 

“Make you quit your job, is what I said, I think.” Tara says, a little sheepish, “YN’s mad because she doesn’t think I treat you well, or whatever. But I told her you don’t care about that. We’re sisters, we treat each other badly. That’s just how it goes.” 

She looks over to Sam, expectantly. Like she’s waiting for her to agree. 

Sam blinks. A sharp wave of hurt flushes through her chest that she can’t quite swallow. 

“I don’t treat you badly, Tara, I love you.” Says Sam after a long moment. There’s pain in her chest, making her words hard to get out, “I flew across the country for you. I’m living in a shoebox apartment infested with cockroaches for you. I fought Ghostface for you.” 

Tara blinks. 

“I tell you I love you everyday, before I leave, do you know that?” Sam asks, eyebrows crinkled, “But you never say it back. Why do you never say it back?” 

Tara just stares, eyes owlish. 

Sam might cry. 

Mindy’s half-cocked summary of her life had also made Sam a little sad. Because what does she have, truly? 

No boyfriend, no friends, a sister who treats her less than human. Like Sam’s a piece of dog-shit on the bottom of her shoe that she can’t quite shake. 

She won’t cry in front of Tara. 

Sam drops the empty beer bottle to the counter and rubs her eyes. Her sadness momentarily turns to anger. 

“I do everything for you,” Sam tells her, after a long moment, “But I love this job. This time you can do something for me. You can accept it.” 

-

When Sam leaves in the morning, the apartment is strangely somber. 

Tara’s avoiding Sam. You’re not talking to Tara. Sam’s not talking to anyone.

You don’t really talk to anyone, nowadays, anyway, she thinks, and then bats away the dreary thought. 

She spends the day on auto-pilot. Tries to will away the self-deprecating hatred brewing in the pit of her stomach. 

Quinn’s smiling when she finally makes her way into the library. 

Maybe the only person in her life happy to see her. 

It’s a sad thought, even for Sam. 

“Joe’s in the best pizza,” Quinn gushes, touching her arm, a little bit into their study session, “Now you live in New York you’ve got to get serious about this kind of thing.” 

Sam bites her lip. 

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town anyway,” Says Sam, “I’m thinking about going home.”

Quinn tilts her head. 

“How come?” 

Sam shakes her head. 

“I’m just- I’m in Tara’s space. It’s not good for our relationship.” 

Quinn hums. 

Sam blinks. 

“Sorry,” She says, catching herself, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Let’s start on the next chapter.” 

“Tara won’t have any space if you leave her here,” Quinn says, tilting her chin, “Believe me. I lived in that apartment. I know how expensive it is.” 

“It’s an expensive shit-hole,” Sam mumbles, “You know every shower I’ve had this week has been cold?” 

Quinn nods, sympathetically. 

“I remember.” 

Sam surveys her for a moment. 

Her brows crease. And her curiosity gets the better of her. 

“Why’d you do it, anyway?” She asks, “Go for my sister? I mean, five minutes alone with the two of them and anyone could see how in love they are.” 

Quinn shifts. 

Averts her gaze, suddenly shy. 

It makes Sam frown. 

“I don’t know,” Quinn says, after a long moment, “Your sister- she seems like a really good girlfriend. I’ve only had bad boyfriends. Maybe I just wanted a change. Someone to treat me right, for once.” 

“And you really thought you could do it?” Sam asks, eyebrow raised, “Seduce her?” 

“No,” Quinn admits, “But it was fun to try. I like that. People I can’t have.”

Sam quirks an eyebrow. 

“You’re lucky YN didn’t beat your ass,” Sam says, the ghost of a smile on her lips, “I’ve seen her do much worse.” 

Quinn licks her lips. 

“Your sister is really beautiful,” She says, after a moment, “But you’re much prettier. Supermodel pretty.” 

The back of Sam’s neck prickles. 

Quinn scoots in a little closer.  

Their thighs touch. A spark flushes through Sam’s body, embering into wildfire before Sam can get a grip on it. 

Quinn’s lips are red. Her blue eyes are dilated. In the glow of the library-light, Sam could almost lean in…

Instead, she stands. Snapping up like she might die if she doesn’t. 

“Quinn,” She says, voice flustered, “I’m not stupid, I know what you’re trying to do.”

Quinn blinks. She cocks her head, dark eyes flashing with innocence. 

“And what am I trying to do?” 

“You couldn’t have Tara, so you’re throwing yourself at me,” Sam says, voice firm, “You think you’re slick, Quinn, but I see right through you.” 

Quinn tilts her head. 

“I just said you were prettier than her.” She says, “Your sister - she’s nice. She’s cute in a pedestrian sort of way. But you - you’re beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sam can’t help the blush that stems from the bloom in her stomach and sprouts beet red in her cheeks. 

Quinn Bailey can talk. 

But Sam isn’t falling for it. 

“I’ve got to go,” She says, slinging her back over her arm, “I have- plans.” 

There are no plans. Sam hopes it isn’t obvious. 

Quinn purses her lips. 

“Anywhere fun?” She asks, easy smile on her lips, “Maybe I could come?” 

“Bye, Quinn,” Sam says, voice firm. 

And all but stumbles out of the library with Quinn watching. 

-

“Mindy,” Sam groans, down the phone line on her walk home, “You have to help me. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.” 

“Let me guess,” Mindy says. She sounds like she’s out somewhere - at a bar, or a particularly echoey house party, “You have a big fat hickey on your neck courtesy of one Quinn Bailey?” 

Sam’s cheeks flame. 

“I’m straight, Mindy,” She says, though her voice hovers, “You know that. Quinn - she won’t stop. She threw herself at me again tonight.” 

“Well, maybe you should just let her fuck you,” Mindy suggests, unhelpfully. She sounds a little drunk, “The girl likes what she can’t have so let her have you. Then she’ll leave you alone.” 

“That is some particularly unhelpful logic,” Snaps Sam, “Where are you, anyway? It sounds like there’s three of you.” 

“We’re at one of Chad’s lame house parties,” Says Mindy, “God, your sister’s in a mood, you know that? She’s scaring off all the cute girls. Not even YN can calm her down.”

“Oh,” Says Sam, stopping in her tracks, “You’re throwing a party? Who’s there?” 

“Me, Tara, YN, Chad, Liv,” Says Mindy, without a beat, “Plus every other freshman on campus. Chad tried to get some seniors to come, but he’s a little far off becoming the campus hotshot again.” 

Something pangs deep within Sam’s chest. 

Loneliness coils like a snake around her heart, tugging, tugging, tugging. 

The line is quiet, and Mindy seems to realize her mistake. 

“You don’t want to be here though Sam, it’s super lame. Just freshmen.” She says, hurriedly. 

“Of course not.” Sam says, trying to keep her voice light.

Why would she want to be there? At some lame party with kids four years younger than her, drinking like it’s the first - and last - drop of alcohol they’ve ever had in their lives. 

Because, sings that little voice in the back of her head, every friend you have in this city is there. And not one thought to invite you. Not even your own sister.

“You can come if you want,” Mindy suggests, a moment later, “I’m really sorry, Sam, I didn’t even think-” 

Sam bites her lip. Hard. 

“The last thing I want to do is watch a bunch of kids get wasted off keg-stands,” Sam says. She takes in a breath, and she doesn’t know why - but she’s desperate for Mindy to believe her, “Enjoy the party, Mindy, I’ll talk to you in the morning.” 

“Sure,” Mindy echoes, “Night, Sam.” 

-

It really is pathetic, Sam thinks as she pours herself a large glass of wine, your life. It’s pathetic. 

It’s Friday night. 

She should be out. She should be drinking and partying with friends her own age. She should be dancing in a club, dragging a stranger home and regretting it in the morning. 

What she shouldn’t be doing - is lounging around in her sister’s apartment, drinking by herself. She shouldn’t be moping about an invitation to a party with a friend group that isn’t even hers.

She’s made Tara her world. 

But in Tara’s world, she’s not even a thought. 

Not a sun, not a star, not even a moon. 

Maybe, if she’s lucky, a bit of space-junk Tara can’t quite shake from her orbit.

Pathetic. 

Space-junk, she thinks briefly, that’s a good name for you. A waste of space, more like. 

Sam sinks another glass of wine. 

The buzz feels nice. But the apartment is too quiet. 

Just Sam and her thoughts - a dangerous mix. 

And then - her phone buzzes. Sam has five glasses of wine in her. She answers, without checking who’s calling. 

And her voice catches in her throat when she hears the voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hey stranger,” Says Quinn, “I just wanted to call. I didn’t want to leave our conversation the way it was.” 

Sam pauses. 

She blinks - the room spins. 

“If you’re not interested, I understand,” Continues Quinn, and her voice lowers, “But I think you’ve misunderstood me.” 

Sam’s heartbeat jumps out of her chest. The hairs on the back of her arm raise, something she can’t quite name surges through her veins. 

She swallows, but her mouth is dry. Despite the constant flow of alcoholic lubrication. 

Quinn pauses a moment, and then sighs. 

“I don’t want you because of your sister,” Quinn says, voice graveled, “I want you because you’re beautiful.”

Sam hums. 

She closes her eyes, but she’s still spinning. 

High off alcohol, high off arousal, high off something. 

It feels nice to be wanted, no matter who is doing the wanting. 

She closes her lips, once. Tries to hang up. But she can’t.  

Then, she bites her lip. 

“Come over.”

[f10werfae]

One Hot Mama

Pairing: Mechanic!Henry Cavill X Single!mom!Reader

summary: Henry becomes a daddy when a special woman enters his life, and his garage... and his home (DILF Henry) (Emotional!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

"F-fuck momma, you got anymore to give me? Can see your precious pussy gripping onto me like a vice" Henry groaned looking down at his fingers plummeting in and out of his secret lover's pussy, a new single mother that had just moved to town with her newborn, immediately falling into the town's mechanic's arms for protection against the judgy looks of others. "y-you're t-too -fuck- big b-bear, can feel you s-so deep" Her hands held onto his arm tightly, her eyes looking up at him desperately.

"Shh honey, don't wanna wake up our little babe do ya? Only got 'im to sleep" He growled biting her ear lightly, his wide palm rubbing onto her clit lightly, her shirt still damp from pumping only an hour beforehand; Henry's hands already pulling at her hardened nipples to try and coax some of the milk out for himself. "O-oh i'm c-cumming" She squealed, moaning into the wild man's arms as his lips pushed onto hers, swallowing each of her moans and whines as his fingers rubbed her button raw, her slick wetness covering his hands and part of her bed sheets.

"good job momma, did so well for me, take what you need, take care of our little angel so fuckin' well" He growled watching her body writhe against his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as she tilted her head up for another kiss, his tongue licking all over her mouth before diving in deep and tasting her tongue. Letting her grind against his hand, their lips separating as her whines turned to soft breaths of relief and pleasure, his hands still toying with her tits as he massaged her body. His favourite part? The extra skin gathered at her stomach, showing off just how amazing she was for going through a pregnancy, never mind a pregnancy alone.

"By the way uh- Thanks for lookin' after Tommy tonight, I-I didn't know i'd get called for work so late' She whispered letting him trace each of her stretch marks, kisses placed all over she shoulder, eventually reaching her lips once again. There they stayed on her bed, kissing and just touching each other for another ten minutes, her body humping against his lightly, whimpering at the fact that she still didn't feel comfortable enough to have sex again. "I already told ya, he already calls me daddy, only thing ya needa do is let me into your heart pumpkin"

"Y-you're already in my heart Hen, you've got it in your hands" She whispered tracing her lips with her finger, his lips kissing the palm of her hand before nuzzling into her touch like a dog. Ever since she had moved to Pomsdale 6 months ago with her six month old, the first person who had notice of her and little Tommy, was Henry Cavill the town's leading mechanic. Pomsdale was a tiny town of a population of at least 2500, so almost instantly the married woman of the town had judged her for having a baby out of wedlock.

At first it started off as a favour, Henry babysitting baby Tommy while Y/n worked her ass off. Then it turned into Henry and Y/n fooling, her body falling for his within the first week, it only took a simple look and there they were dry humping on the newest car he was fixing up; so far there had been no labels on their relationship. That was until Henry had been over at her house daily, eating dinner, helping to feed Tommy and overall just relieving her feeling of being a single parent. Last month Tommy had just about said his first word 'dada' while reaching out for Henry who was building his computer in the living room, babysitting him while Y/n was out getting groceries.

"Then why won't ya let me put a pretty lil' rock on this finger momma? make us into one of 'ose happy families, have ya as my wife, our house filled with tiny tots wreckin' the place" He whispered kissing the space on her ring finger delicately, his boxer clad body shifting over just to be closer to his woman, he didn't care whether they had his last name or not, he just wanted his son and wife with him. "H-Henry us foolin' around has been fun don't get me wrong but-"

"Foolin' around? was that all this was to you? I- I thought you just said I had your heart n' you had mine, the hell are you talkin' about then" he said sitting up in her bed, watching her panic a bit and reach for his larger hands, "N-No of course not! But you need to understand this isn't just about me, it's about Tommy too, y-you can't just up and leave whenever ya get bored of me" Her thumb rubbed over his knuckles comfortingly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at him, only to be interrupted by the sound of her baby boy crying

"I-i'll go get him, you stay here, please" He whispered gently letting go of her hands, grabbing his sweater from the chair and shrugging it on, giving her a tight lipped smile before heading down to the one year old's nursery. His breath deepening and shuddering with each step, it's okay he would give her some time to think and then they'd talk; that's how they always worked things out during their fast paced relationship.

"hey, hey little man, what's got ya all worked up? Thought your momma's milk woulda had you knocked out cold for sure" He cooed fixing his sleep snuggy, the blue fabric looked like he was wearing a tiny dress, causing Henry's heart to grow a little bit bigger (if that was even possible) Tommy's tiny hands fisted the cotton sweater almost as if it was trying to rip off the fabric, Henry's deep voice chuckling at his boy's tiny coos and whimpers, setting him back into his bassinet before taking off his sweater.

Little Tommy now calming down against his dada's chest, his smaller fingers twisting in Henry's chest hair, Henry's lips pressing kisses onto his head and inhaling the soft baby scent. "Ya like me don't ya, one day you n' your momma are gonna be mine, officially but ya know you already are. Gonna teach ya how to play ball, ride a bike and maybe even give ya some tips for kindergarten. I know your ma is jus' worried about you, but I promise ya, if anythin' were to happen to you or your momma i'd never forgive myself" After his own monologue Henry padded softly around the room, sitting down onto the rockin' chair in the corner, letting Tommy slowly drift off on his chest.

------

Henry's eyes twinkled open, his back aching, the panic setting in when he realised his chest didn't have Tommy's weight on it anymore. Calming down when he saw the love of his life kissing the tip of his son's nose, setting their baby boy to bed, her body covered in a white silk robe. "C-come to bed Hen baby, please honey" She whimpered, her eyes still glossy, complying as Henry tugged her onto his lap. "m'comfy right 'ere, stay with me" He gruffed feeling her head lay on his chest, his hand coming up to scratch her head soothingly, her hands clutching onto his other one tightly.

"I- I do want you Henry, in my bed, in my house, with OUR son and with me. I just want you to understand t-that I am worried but I do love you and I- I do want a pretty rock on m-my finger"

"That's good, cause it's already in my pocket honey. Would you take m-my name or-"

"I want your name Henry, I want everything to do with you, the name, the house, the babies and of course, I know Tommy would like to be yours too; but I need time too"

"He was mine the day I met him love, saw the twinkle in his eye n' knew he was my little boy n' you was meant to be my woman" He whispered nudging her head up with his, her lips eagerly puckered and inching towards his; their lips meeting in tons of tiny pecks until their lips grew tired and swollen. "Ey stop it woman, our son's 'ere" He chuckled kissing her cheek sweetly, letting her nuzzle into his neck, her legs straddling his burly thighs.

(psa; lowkey think this is one of my worst stories so sorry :(( )

---

Library of works blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, pls use library blog instead)

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[silassinclair]

Say My Name

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CW// 16+ Content, Abduction, Guns, Yelling, Talk of Murder

Introduction (Optional to read)

Last night my life changed forever. My Father managed to get on the bad side of a wanted outlaw by the name of Maddox Graves. And that very same night that very same outlaw killed my Father in cold blood. I thought I’d be next but instead he bound my ankles and hands and threw me with him on the back of his horse. We’ve been riding for hours and I have no clue where this psycho is taking me. Maybe somewhere far away to do diabolical things to me. If that’s the case then I’d rather be dead.

“What’s on your mind princess? You were thrashin‘ and screamin’ a few hours ago. Where’d that fire go?” Graves turns his head slightly back to face me. But I look away. Being this close to him was the most uncomfortable I have ever been in my life. But I had to keep my arms around him as to not fall off the horse and break a bone. I need to be in top condition if I want to escape.

“Nothing…” I mutter. But that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the greedy bastard. So he halts his horse with a gentle tug of the reins. For a psycho murderer criminal he’s nice to his horse.

“You hungry? Gotta piss or somethin'?” Even though he has a bandana covering his mouth I can tell he’s annoyed by the way his eyes wrinkle slightly.

“No! I’m fine..”

But I’m not fine. How could I be fine? This animal killed my Father and is taking me only God knows where! We've been riding through this desert for hours and it's almost sundown. I'm scared shitless of potential bandits and I'm literally starvi-

Growl~~~

"Your stomach is tellin' me otherwise sweetheart." I can practically hear the smirk on his stupid face.

Hugging myself I sigh in defeat. "I haven't eaten in over a day.. So of course I'm hungry. I just have no appetite."

Lies. I could eat a horse.

"Well you're lucky because look on ahead princess."

Moving my head up and to the side to see over his broad shoulders I see a town less than a mile ahead. I thank the lord in my heart and soul.

"Now don't go thinkin' you can run off and escape. You go to anyone for help and I'll shoot em' dead like your old man." He adds.

Well that dug deep. Scowling, I kick him in the shin causing him to hiss a low curse.

"Watch your mouth. You may be all big and bad but I'm not afraid of you. I won't let anyone disrespect my Father. Especially not the likes of you." I say. But Graves only furrows his eyebrows and crosses his arms. He hops off his horse and grabs me by the waist, pulling me down with him.

"Get off you mongrel!" "Silence that mouth of yours before I gag it!" He snaps, I immediately do as I say. This unpredictable gunslinger could kill me or worse in seconds. I shouldn't have said anything in the first place. My initial plan was too cooperate so I could escape but here I am blowing it. But it's hard because he pisses me off to kingdom come.

His hands are still on my waist as he pulls me closer and speaks, "Do you have any idea why you're alive girlie?"

I feel myself unwillingly do a full body shiver. His eyes were a dark brown but not a normal brown. Almost red due to the sun's setting light shinning down on us. He asked me a question but my throat can't conjure a reply. I only shake my head 'no' back and forth.

"It's because I think you're pretty, and I'd hate to waste a pretty lil' thing like yourself." He slurs. His rugged hands go lower, I can feel them. The fabric of my dress protects me from his direct touch but the violating feeling is all the same.

"So young and precious, you-" He pauses. "What's your name? I never got it."

What a dunce. I sigh and remove his hands from my waist, luckily he doesn't fight back.

"It's Y/n. Y/n L/n."

His eyes soften, but only barely. There's still a hunger behind them. "Y/n..." He tests the name on his tongue.

"I like that. But I like princess more. Sweetheart is a good one too. It matches that cute face o' yours. Or missy when you're bein' a bad girl." His hand goes under his chin as he lists off the stupidest pet names ever.

I deadpan and shake my head back and forth. Pinching my nose bridge I look over at the town in the distance.

"So aren't you gonna ask what my name is?" His sudden voice whispering in my ear and his fingers grazing my neck makes me physically jump and clamp my hand over my neck.

"D-Don't do that!" I shout and take in a deep breath. I'm probably a tomato right about now.

"And I already know your name." I scoff and cross my arms, turning away from him. But he walks around me to try and get me to face him, which I turn again and again after every attempt me makes.

"I wanna hear you say it though. Bet it'd sound real' sexy comin' from your lips." Grave's hands squeeze me around my biceps and lock me in place, leaving me to look no where else except for those devilish eyes of his.

Knowing him for the day I've been around him I know he won't relent. He'll keep me here until I give in.

Sighing I say his name. "Maddox Graves.."

It came out softer on accident. Maybe I'm exhausted. But looking at his concealed face I can see his wide eyes.

"Say it again." He whispers. His grip tightens. It hurts and I whimper in pain but his eyes still bore into mine.

"Maddox Graves." I say firmly. But he groans and shakes his head back and forth. A dissatisfied groan leaves him.

"No not like that! Say it how ya' said it before!" He whines, but he still sounds aggravated.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..." I mutter and clench my teeth. He has the grip of a bear trap.

"Say it like a wife would! Say. my. name!" He snaps and jerks me forward. My eyes widen in fear at his outburst and I'm reminded that this is no normal man. He's a killer. A dangerous outlaw and the one who killed my Father.

But what he said has me confused. What does he mean by that? He must tell how confused I am because his grip loosens.

"Just... Say it like ya' don't despise me."

That's damn near impossible. But if I want to survive and get food in my stomach then I need to perform.

"Maddox." I say only his first name this time. Gently, I raise a hand and lay it over his that is on my arm. Both his hands drop and I hear his let out a long breath.

He says nothing but he turns away from me and hops onto his horse. His hand reaches for mine and I take it. He pulls me up but I nearly fall over. The control I have over my legs is lacking because of their bound state. Luckily he catches me with an arm.

"Easy now sweetheart. I don't want ya' gettin' hurt. After all, I know what I'm gonna do with ya now." He says in a low timbre that strikes fear into my core.

"Hya!" He shouts and his horse walks in the direction to the town ahead.

This unpredictable psycho... I'm at a complete loss here. What can I do? I'm hopeless! His behavior is nearly bipolar and he's a walking weapon. But now he has a plan for me? Whatever it is I don't want it...

[wackyharpy]

Merchant's Daughter (Part 1)

God! Aemond x Human•Fem! Reader

Summary: In order to ease the wrath of one of the Gods, the girl among humans is chosen to be gifted to him.

Part 2

To find more stories — masterlist

A/N: I'm inspired by a lot of things, by Greek mythology, by Beauty and the Beast story. Especially credits go to @flowerandblood. Some of her fanfics planted a seed of the idea for this story. I hope, you'll enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated :) And English isn't my native.

Warnings ⚠️

Mention of death, typical treatment of women those times, she/her pronouns

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Once the world was different. Humans shared it with other supernal beings — children and creatures of Gods who ruled those times. Back then miracles filled the surroundings — here and there ehoes of satires' and nymphs' wild dancing could be heard in the dead of night, taken by the wind from the concealed domicile somewhere in the forests or fields, and brought straight to the towns where mortal people resided.

Fishermen spread legends of beautiful women with colorful fish-tails whose voice could enchant one and become the death of him. Sailors told about orphic castles barely visible in the fogs of the sea.

Humans were always weak and foolish, bonded to their towns and houses, lived their short mortal nugatory lives. They couldn't comprehend the broadness of the world, the depth and beauty of it.

Gods tried to take care of them, their miserable children. They gave them lands, rivers, domestic animals and fish. They taught them how to cultivate fields and grow crops, how to exploit fire. At times, humans got punished for their sins, Gods abhorred misbehavior of their gawky children. Frequently, they didn't even cast a glance at them, being immersed into their divine scandals and disputes. They didn't invite any humans to their heavenly palaces, nor did they marry earthborn men and women. Some Gods and Goddesses might have laid with beautiful representatives of the human race. Still, nothing more.

It was so only until one moment.

The calm day didn't foreshadow anything violent. Until the evening, when the sunset was painted in scarlet. Something terrible happened in the heavenly palaces — one of the Gods blood was spilled. That night the residents of the town near the sea didn't see the moon. Instead, the night sky was pitch black as the abyss of Chaos which the universe emerged from.

The God of Murk and Affliction lost his eye to his nephew — the God of Joy.

But, little Lucerys escaped the wrath of elder Gods and remained unpunished. After all, they couldn't harm him in order not to cripple him or knock all the joy out of him that he shared with mortals — such was his endowment. The issue remained unresolved, and angry Aemond was forced to live with one eye since then.

In a century, he met his nephew again, above the sea. There was no way to escape the God of Murk and Affliction that time. The little God was hopeless. And Aemond put his nephew through tortures, through his revenge which he had been nurturing in his dark heart for many years.

That evening the residents of the town near the sea saw a scarlet sunset once again. And in the hour of the owl, claps of thunder rumbled in the pitch black sky. The storm of madness swept across those lands — the herald of the victory and death simultaneously.

The sudden sadness and fear filled the hearts of people. The God of Joy was dead. His two eyes, cut out of the sockets, turned into two precious stones with yellowish glow. Still, there are gossips that they can be found at the bottom of the deepest sea.

Since then, there was no joy as such on the earth, people no longer took it for granted. If they wanted to be happy, they had to find things that could bring merry into their miserable lives.

But darkness and fear remained, more diseases developed among people, life became tough. Servants of the God of Murk and Affliction began residing together with people, punishing them for their indifference they showed on the day Aemond lost his eye. Nobody stood for him at that time. Everybody thought they would get away with it. Though, the Gods, humans, and other beings are paying off for their negligence now.

Plague, Doom, Pain, Fear, and Sorrow are terrorizing people. They have infiltrated into the towns' walls, they are hiding in the shadows, every now and again preparing to attack a poor mortal soul.

The Gods and supernal creatures are trying to avoid the lands where the God of Murk and Affliction lives, being well aware that they can meet their death in the form of Vhagar — Aemond's monstrous beast, so enormous as a mountain.

Many centuries passed in the town near the sea. One day the Goddess of Wisdom bestowed the place with her presence and shared a piece of advice with people.

Opt a young maiden girl, and gift her to the God of Murk and Affliction. As a mighty man he is, he won't refuse to satisfy his carnal needs with an innocent mortal girl. It may sooth his wrath a little, and he may order his servants to stop terrorizing humans. At least, not frequently. One girl isn't a big price comparing the whole humanity.

And so was it. The government, the judges, and the public presented the most beautiful virginal girls to the heavenly court. The choice fell on the youngest of merchant's daughters — a poor being who was soon to be sent to the remote lands, right into the hands of the ruthless God.

The day her family was preparing her to the long journey, she was silent and pale. It seemed that all liveliness faded away from her eyes. Before going out to the carriage, her mother sat with her in the chamber to conduct a woman talk.

Be obedient. Do what He orders. Be flexible. It doesn't matter that he's a God, still he's a man that isn't deprived of needs that even humans possess. Your feminine power isn't between your legs, first of all it's in your mind. Use your head in the right way, and who knows, perhaps, even the God of Murk and Affliction will fall on his knees in front of you. The doings that a man and a woman perform in the bed chamber aren't always about pain, it may bring a great satisfaction and fulfillment for both of them.

At that time the words of the woman had no sense for the girl. But she only nodded, believing her mother. After all, the merchant's wife was known for her acute mind and wisdom. And beautiful curves of the body that all her daughters inherited.

Then, the girl settled in the carriage, and she with the convoy, consisted of several men, set off to the remote lands.

The journey took long days when they finally reached the dense woods. It seemed that places there were deathlike, shrouded in impenetrable thick fogs.

The carriage stopped and soon its door was opened.

"We've arrived, my lady. We won't go further, we are to leave you here," the servant of her father stretched a hand to her and helped her to get out.

Her nose immediately caught the moist raw scent of dead leaves and moss. The space around was dead silent. The sky was grey and cloudy — no signs of the sun, moon, and stars. Here and there hollers of ravens were heard. Vultures were circling above the trees, probably looking out for a half dead prey.

Shivers ran across her spine, the breath caught in the lungs.

The case with her belongings was stated at her legs. The girl turned to look at the servants of her father. They only gave her a sad smile and nodded, turning the convoy back.

She was left alone in these cursed lands. Abandoned by the whole world.

The girl looked around trying to figure out what to do next, and having no idea where to go, who to search for, she took her case, and just went further into the mist.

She couldn't tell whether she'd been walking for hours, but soon enough she noticed the outlines of the high fence which was visible in the distance. When the girl reached the gates, she stopped and placed the case on the ground. Beyond the large fence, the grim castle stationed itself. She felt that something tugged in her stomach, and stuck in the throat. Fear. Pure terror washed over her body. The sudden feeling of millions of eyes watching her prickled the petite body. But there was no one around her. At least, she thought like that.

All at once, the heavy front doors opened and she saw a tall man going down the stairs, directly on the lane bestrewn with gravel. He must have been the one who was going to meet her.

[dmmdipodcast]

Hello and welcome to Dragons Made Me Do It,

...one of potentially many podcasts about Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series (but the only one by us!).

They are: a series of sometimes Deeply Off the Wall Weird speculative fiction books that have had a far-reaching but oft-forgotten effect on later genre fiction.

We are: a pair of literature nerds who were deeply invested in (some) of these books as tweens.

You are: someone who vaguely remembers these books, or never heard of them but has some time to kill, or is wincing right along with us—we're not picky! And c'mon, who doesn't like dragons?

Check out our website for more!

FAQ

Are the books good?

What a great question. No.

Should I (re)read them?

Also no. (Unless...) (Jk (mostly)...)

Should I spend several hours of my one wild and precious life listening to you talk about them?

Of course you should!

How often do you update?

Biweekly. Every other week (plus some bonus episodes).

Where should I start?

If you're familiar with Pern, head to Episode #1: Dragonflight. If you're not, or if you want a refresher on the world, you may want to check out Bonus Episode #1: World-building and get the lay of the land before diving in.

Is there anything really important that I need to know before starting?

Yeah: the sexual politics of these books is. Bad. Heads-up that we will be discussing coercive sexual behavior and sexual assault in most episodes. Much of McCaffrey's worldbuilding rests on a mostly unspoken foundation of racism and ableism, which we'll discuss in the specific episodes where it bubbles to the surface.

Is F'lar as much of a twerp as I remember from reading these once when I was, like, 12?

Even more of a twerp, we're sorry to say.

[joenotexotic99]

Hello Doll! New fan here! You're so precious! 🥰 we NEED pt 2 of BoB "Sleeping with them for the first time", my request: Speirs, Toye, Eugene, Webster, Buck. AND pls wrote more Lovetropes! I've read it so many times, that I can quote from memory! xoxo

A/n this might be dirtier than pt1. Will do a pt 2 of love tropes ofc. Lmk if you have some people in mind for that

<3

-this is a work of fiction based on the actors portrayal only. Every ounce of respect to the real heros-

Warning: NSFW, plain sinful smut. Lots of language. Minors dni

Masterlist

Ronald Speirs

- this man will change your whole perspective of sex afterwards. You've both been pinning each other for a while and decide to go on a date. Yet the whole time you both have been practically removing each other's clothes with your eyes. Lingering touches, flirty behavior. Lets just say that you didn't quite make it through all the courses before Speirs asked for the check. You make it back to his place before he immediately kisses you. You start removing clothes while grabbing and feeling any skin you can both get your hands on. He turns you around to unzip your dress, taking it off your figure. He spun you back around to pick you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. You remove his belt and tug at his pants and boxers until the both of you are head to toe naked. He gives you a looks off 'are you sure' you nod yes before he lifts you legs up and fucks you. Praise after praise, surface after surface. It's a wild ride.

"Fuck you feel so good you know that princess?"

Joe toye

-he's sweet and spontaneous. It's a similar experience to George luz where it happens after a few dates. It starts slow, careful almost. But eventually you melt under him. He kisses you harder, Backs you to a wall. You remove each other's shirts. His hands unclips your bra. He makes hickies after hickies up and down your neck. He picks you up and brings you to the bedroom. Kisses down to your skirt to take that off as well. This man would love to praise you. And his voice!? He will mutter the most downright bad into your ears. He could make you come from just that alone. I feel like he's big on moaning you know. Your make him feel so good he's going to let you know that. Will do anything you ask him to do. You want him to touch you. He's instantly rubbing your clit, you want him to suck you Titts, he'll do that too. Fuck you harder and faster. He'll break the mattress. Will make you finish at least twice. Once on his cock. Then he'll clean you up with his tongue. But he is sooo sweet with the after care.

"God I wish you could see yourself right now doll. Getting fucked properly"

Eugene roe

-he's honestly a little nervous. He doesn't want to hurt you. It starts back at your place. Some wine after a good home cooked dinner. The alcohol helps with confidence. It's slow and passionate. He would be completely fine with kissing you for hours on end. But you've had one too many dirty dreams about this man so it's now or never. Eugene will be so great with foreplay. Makes you feel worshiped like no man has ever made you feel before. Always checking to make sure you're ok. When it gets time to really dance if you know what I mean he's super scared that something is going to go wrong. This poor man. You are so worked up from his touch that you have to tell him to just shut up and fuck you. It's like a switch goes off in his head. And the only thing he can suddenly think of is you. He fucks you until the only thing you can think of, only thing you can scream is his name. He robs you of every last breath in your lungs. It's dirty, passionate, sweaty and oh so good. Best God damn orgasm of your life. When you both finish and clean up. He definitely raps you up in his arms.

"Thank you"

"For what?"

"Giving me the best dick of my life"

David Webster

-HERE ME OUT! One bed trope. But it's not at a hotel or anything. You head to his place, have dinner, watch a movie, whatever. Oh no it's dark and raining. How about you stay the night? Oh crap this is a one bed apartment. You get the point. He offers you the bed and he'll sleep on the couch but you say that's silly and to just share the bed. Webster already had a huge crush on you so his ears turn a bright red, but how can he turn down the offer to share a bed with you? You get ready and both go to bed. It's awkward at first until he breaks the silence with one of those deep questions and you start talking for hours. One thing leads to another and he's on top of you. He kisses you until you lose your mind. You run your hands up his bare chest until you reach the stubble on his face. You slowly remove each article of clothing on the both of you. The air is thick and warm. Can you imagine how feral this man will go if you praise him. This man just wants some love ok? He asks you how sure you are about this, not wanting to cross any boundaries. You agree enthusiastically. You tug at his hair. Run your hands down his back. He kisses your neck, holds your waist. He's so gentle with aftercare too. From here on out you stay the night more often.

"Just like that web don't stop, so good, you're so good"

"Fuck sweetheart you're gunna make me come"

Buck Compton

-I know this is sorta cliché but fire sex. It's around the holidays. It's cold, snowing and dark outside. Inside it's warm, cozy and comfortable. You are still in puppy love faze. It's sweet. You are both on the couch blanket on top. Fire crackling. Buck reading you a book. You have thought about it a lot, sex. Yet you've never really got there. Steamy makeout sessions. Been there and done that. But it hasn't made it farther than that. But gooood you want it to. Your hands wander over him. Getting more and more close south each time. You rub his thigh, testing the waters. You can tell he notices by how his adams apple moves. You slowly undo his belt as he continues to read the book. He lets you pull his jeans down and slowly remove him from his boxers. You move your hand tauntingly slow. Not moving any faster in hopes of riling him up. He puts the book down and pulls you up to his lips. He removes your shirt and bra. Flips you over to remove your pants and underwear. He's sweet and confident in each move he makes. He kisses up and down your inner thigh until he finally makes it to the center. He gives you a taste of your own medicine. Slowly keeping you on edge with his tongue until you beg him to fuck you. And he does just that. It's better than you could have ever imagined.

"For fucks sake buck if you don't get up here and dick me down"

[sporesgalaxy]

PLS.. share thoughts on zoro n sanji relationship........ i dont ship them but they are so. SOOOOO.

THEY MAKE ME CRAZZYYYYY. and honestly the way their dynamic make me insane doesnt even HAVE to be read as romantic. But i feel so much crazier when i see them shipped and its not even capitalizing on all the shit theyve got going on.

So anyways here's my Zoro and Sanji retrospective I spent several hours on I guess. As if it's my fault.

▪︎

When Zoro and Sanji meet, Sanji has given up on his dream to see the All-Blue in favor of supporting Zeff.

Zoro is still throwing himself at his dream to be the greatest swordsman with all his might, and nearly dies to Mihawk for it.

Initially, from Sanji's outside perspective, it seems like a waste of precious life.

Zoro promising never to disappoint Luffy when he's on death's door clearly makes Sanji reconsider, though.

•••

The next time Sanji and Zoro really interact after Zoro's defeat is when they go after Nami at Arlong Park.

And the first thing Sanji learns about Zoro is.......that he's willing to hit girls!

To Sanji, Zoro seems like he's willing to turn on someone-- and worse, willing to hurt a girl-- just because he's angry for an apparent betrayal that no one has any concrete proof of yet. What a jerk! Surely that earned him the dig Sanji makes about his loss to Mihawk.

Unbeknownst to Sanji, however, Zoro has already bet his life on Nami's friendship being genuine by almost drowning himself.

Zoro doesn't want to bother explaining this to some stupid new guy who's willing to side with a stranger purely on the basis of her gender. Clearly, Sanji doesn't understand ANYTHING about this crew, and should just stay out of things.

And so their initial mutual dislike is born!!!

They tend to bicker a lot after this, but I think the next time Sanji brings up Mihawk is in Alabasta.

Once again, Sanji is hitting below the belt because he's convinced Zoro's done something nigh-unforgivable: doubting Luffy. It's a reminder that their rivalry at this point is still built on genuinely misjudging each others' character.

Now at this point I've run out of my 100 daily shounen jump chapters so I can't find for you the PRECISE moment thet are mutually like "yeah ok fine you're a DECENT guy I GUESS" in Alabasta but I think it's the clock tower maybe? The point is that the whole crew has to work together VERY HARD to defeat Crocodile and it shows Sanji and Zoro that they can count on each other to support the crew, at least.

Their improved relationship is apparent in one of my fave downtime scenes so far: Sky Island jungle dinner :)

I...don't think we've seen Sanji ask for help cooking before this point?? Much less from Zoro. So I fucking love that. And Zoro goes along with it, even though he complains!!!!! It shows perfectly how they now trust each other to help take care of the crew.

Another one if my fave examples of them counting on each other in a kind of funny way is when they're fighting Zombie Oars.

Zoro pushes Sanji's buttons on purpose to get him to go along with it, and it works. But it also shows that Zoro was counting on him to give him a boost! The middle panel could even imply Zoro jumped before Sanji agreed to anything, which really proves how much they're willing to couny on each other now.

Which of course brings us to the conclusion of Thriller Bark and a WILD curveball in their relationship: thes self-sacrificial x2 combo.

What Sanji does here floored me. At this point not only does he trust Zoro as a part of the crew, but he considers Zoro a more irreplacable member of the crew than himself.

And Zoro refuses to let him.

Now, we know from his initial fight with Mihawk that Zoro being willing to kill himself doesn't mean he considers his life unimportant. Zoro and Luffy are both unafraid of death, because they have to be willing to die to even have a ghost of a chance of achieving their dreams.

That's why Zoro chooses to take on Luffy's pain and why he is able to survive it.

Zoro's sacrifice obviously means a lot to Sanji. When Zoro refuses to acknowledge his sacrifice, Sanji goes along with that and covers for him.

And of course he understands. The pain Sanji mentions here that Zoro is trying to spare Luffy from is the exact same pain that lead Sanji to give up on his dream of finding the All-Blue in favor of trying to repay his life debt to Zeff. Sanji wouldn't wish the guilt he feels for Zeff's leg on anybody.

Sanji shows a lot of concern for Zoro after this point up until the time skip!! He calls Zoro a hero to Brook, and tries to help Zoro deal with his excess injuries without drawing attention to them. Zoro is of course surly about it, because he's frustrated by his own limits. He got a taste of what Luffy goes through and it just made him more desperate to become strong enough to lighten Luffy's load.

I find their sort-of reset after the timeskip hilarious.

Sanji was already feeling deeply insecure when he got sent to the island of question your gender and sexuality-- things Sanji clearly considers very important to his identity. Since he can't bear to question himself, he relies on reacting combatively to things that challenge his masculinity. Kicking them, mostly. I'm sure he picked that up from Zeff.

Meanwhile, Zoro is THE most traditionally Masculine member of the crew besides Sanji by a long shot (Franky is in 3rd place as a self-professed freak with blue hair and pronouns who refuses to wear pants). Zoro is buffer than Sanji. And seemingly more stoic than Sanji. And Zoro has cool scars and uses three swords and his muscles are bigger and half the time he's not even wearing a shirt.

This masculinity contest between them was present before the timeskip too, but it's really the only good explanation for the extremeness of Sanji's sour attitude the moment he lays eyes on post-timeskip Zoro and remarks, aloud, "He's back. Like I really care..." after how much appreciation Sanji showed for Zoro's sacrifice before the timeskip.

Sanji WOULD be annoyed at his crewmate's seemingly effortless, unshakeable masculinity after two years of doggedly avoiding non-consensual crossdressing and constantly fighting for his life to outrun gay thoughts.

Zoro's side of things so far post-timeskip seems a bit less wound-up than Sanji. Zoro never takes an insult sitting down, and also just enjoys making snide remarks, so if Sanji's going to argue with him there's no reason for Zoro not to argue back.

This is why I am a gay Zoro truther, even if that gayness has nothing to do with anyone on the crew. Because its fucking hilarious if Sanji is one-sidedly trying to out-hetero-masculinity a literal gay man.