Happy New Year :)

Consider, RZ Michael and Thomas with a s/o who likes to play with their hair. Like braiding it or just absent minded playing with it

Sorry this took so long!! I wrote and rewrote it so many times over the past couple days tryin' to get it right. Still not the happiest with it but I hope it's what you had in mine!

Summary: RZ Michael and Thomas with a s/o who likes to play with their hair.

Warnings: Suggested NSFW-ish, mentions of abuse and bullying

Wordcount: 1.5k

Michael Myers

Not gonna lie to ya chief, Michael doesn’t strike me as the kind of dude to give a flying fuck what happens to his hair. Or his body. Like, the dude gets shot, stabbed, slashed, burned throughout all the movies. I highly doubt his hair would be where he drew the line.

But, the act itself is intimate, personal. That IS something he gives a fuck about. It unnerves him. Years of isolation, cruelty from staff, harsh touches, and rough treatment? Getting close enough to even raise a hand to him without his own snatching your wrist into a vice grip would take time and patience. A lot of it.

Once your relationship with him finally grew enough, and he allowed your touch without smacking away your hand or walking out the door, you could get away with a lot when it comes to him.

Michael’s never had someone to touch him tenderly besides his mama all those years ago. So touch him with love, with care. The fucked up wires in his brain would uncross, reconnect and he’d eventually realize how much he actually enjoyed it. He’d soak it up like a sponge.

Now, playing with his hair? That all started out as something you would do when you could wrangle him onto the couch to watch a movie or a show with you in the evenings when he wasn’t prowling around the neighborhood. Always bribing him at first. “I’ll buy you a bag of Reese’s if you watch a movie with me,” or “I’ll make you a cherry pie if you sit with me while I work.” Every time, your hands would twitch when his hair brushed over his shoulders, when it swayed as he turned to look at you. Your thoughts filled with “What if’s” and ”What’s it like-”

It made watching the movie or focusing on whatever you were working on a nightmare.

Of course, in the end, you couldn’t resist touching it. Once you’d forced him into the habit of showering and using hair products, the blonde locks that sprouted from his head looked like gold strands of silk. And it felt like it too. It didn’t take long for your resolve to break down. He watched you like a hawk the first time your fingertips grazed his hair, piercing baby blues peering down at you. They’d shift to your hands for only a second, unnoticed by you, then back to your face. The only time people had touched his hair was when he was getting man-handled in Smith’s Grove, or when victims were trying to claw their way out of his grasp, desperate hands fisting into the silicone mask and catching his hair in the process.

But you weren’t them, and he wasn’t in Smith’s Grove anymore. You were the one who bought him candy and made him pies, so he let you sink your hands in and brush away those memories with every stroke.

Sometime down the line, if you're really lucky and hummed whatever melody came to mind in a soft enough voice, pressed the pads of your fingers into his scalp nice and slow, his eyes would close and his shoulders would just barely sag.

But only sometimes, it is Michael after all.

Congrats, you trained the boogeyman to let you touch his hair! After that, he wouldn’t care if you braided pieces of it, it’s not any different than you running your hands through it in his book, If you left them in and tied them off, he won’t take them out until he finally showers. The only reason he’d tug them out is if they got in the way or made his mask sit funny. Other than that, expect to see them when he comes home after hunts all frazzled and out of place.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a whole different story though. This man was bullied his entire life, called all the names in the book, hit and beat by students and teachers alike. He was undeniably called a sissy, weak like a girl, every other bullshit insult towards femininity in the book. C’mon, it’s Texas. While braids aren’t inherently feminine, the only people he saw at school for the short time he was there wearing braids was the girls in his class, sporting lil' pigtail braids.

Because of all this, braids would mainly be off the table for him. Especially when Hoyt stormed into your shared bedroom one time and let out a slew of crude jokes at Tommy’s expense. He’d probably let you get away with it if you and him alone, just the two of you. Hidden away from Hoyt’s yappin’ and howlin’ in the basement, or laid somewhere on a blanket in a field under an old oak. But before anyone at home could lay eyes on em’, to your dismay, he’d softly pry them out. He’d be feeling really guilty about ruining such fine work though.

Just running your hands through his hair though? Petting his head, fixing any stray fly always with your cute hands on him? He’s fine with that. Absolutely fine with it. Hell, he’d practically melt every time.

It’d always start in the mornings when the early rays of sun start to peek through the curtains over the windows. They’d slowly shift through the old room as the next hour passes, finally tilting through the glass window panes just enough to kiss his face and start to rile him from his sleep. He’d always give a heavy sigh when stirring from whatever dream he was gifted, somehow always feeling like he didn’t seem to get enough rest. Then again maybe that’s just what farm life is like. Especially when he’s been the only real able-bodied adult in the house. Luda Mae and Hoyt can still get around, but all the tuff labor gets shucked onto his shoulders, and after so many years of it he can’t help but be a little worn down.

You’d be next rise from your joint slumber. Waking up with Tommy would mean waking up curled into his side with his arm around you, holding you against his warm body. Now and then your leg is found tangled in his, but almost always your arm would be limp, situated over his stomach. You’d stretch your fingers and try to blink away the drowsiness in your eyes while tilting your head back to look at him, hoping one day you’d catch him asleep. No luck this time. Droopy brown eyes would be looking down at you with adoration, the arm around you pulling you almost impossibly closer while his thumb rubs circles into the soft flesh on your back.

Another few minutes would pass, and you’d find yourself laying on his belly, either by your own will or by his. A low hum would rumble through his thick chest as you slid your dominant hand up and through his chest hair, ever further till you reached his face. He is eyes would flutter close when your hands brushed against the scruff of his cheeks, and a sigh would have your body fall with his chest once they made purchase in his choppy brown hair. They’d dance through the gentle waves, and you’d feel him press into your touch, sighing as your fingertips slid against his scalp in mesmerizing ways.

Of course, it only lasted till someone started howlin’ Tommy’s name. But throughout the day you’d find moments when your hands could sink into his hair.

One is when you’d walk out to the barn with a cool glass of lemonade to give him while he works on fixing up one of the stalls. He’d set whatever he had in his hands down and take a seat on a nearby bale of hay, the furrow in his brow melting away when you hand him the glass. While he sipped on it you’d make idle conversation, your fingers finding themselves into their favorite spot.

Another is after dinner, whenever Luda Mae asks the two of you to clean up and handle the dishes. Thomas always insisted on washing, not wanting your hands getting dirtied unnecessarily. Forever stuck on drying duty. So for the first few minutes of him starting the water and getting everything soaked in the water, you’d steal the opportunity to hop up on the counter and scoot yourself as close to him as you could, hands reaching towards his hair as they always do.

That favorite, intoxicating feeling of it sliding through your fingers was usually bested by the soft groan of pleasure from the man that usually followed. It was an addicting little sound.

And sometimes it got you in the best kind of trouble.

Should’ve went for the wizard instead

**BITCHSLAP**

Sleepin’ e. Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington

How they would sleep with you next to them..

Eddie is probably at your house, in your bed and most definitely in clothes you washed the last time he was over. (A custom Black Sabbath hoodie and boxers) His hands are hooked around your waist, one of your legs between the both of his and your head tucked under his chin, forehead laying in his chest. Your hands are around his waist as well, drawing shapes on his back as you both fall asleep. Eddie mumbles a goodnight, receiving on back from you before you both doze off for the night.

Billy is also the type to be at your house, not because his room is dirty or unorganized like Eddie’s but because of his dad. He sleeps without a shirt and only in some of his basketball shorts he left over at your house a while ago. On your bed he’s on-top of your comforter with you next to him, your back to his chest and his arm around your bicep hugging you. While he starts off as the big spoon, throughout the night you both move a lot and he ends up little spoon by the time he wakes up. Instead of saying goodnight, he likes to kiss your forehead or if that’s not accessible he’d kiss back of your neck.

Steve likes you over at his place, not that he doesn’t like your house or bed but he believes his bed is the most comfiest and will debate with you about it. But Steve is another guy that sleeps without a shirt, but he wears long plaid pants that sit right below his V-line. Steve probably has to drag you to bed after a movie night in his living room. He little spoons..in a way. His back to your chest, one of your arms draped across his bicep and his head laying on the other, both of your hands locked around him. And your leg raised over and above his thigh. He doesn’t know how you sleep like that, but it makes him feel loved and secure so he’s all for it. You kiss his cheek and he mumbles a love you before dozing off.

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

I don’t believe you, it’s 1899…

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

Word count: 7,774

A/N: Howdy! So I wanted to say that the start of this is a little cliche because I literally couldn’t think of how I wanted to do it so I settled with the whole, this random man is in your house sort of thing. ANNND I’m skipping thanksgiving in this because i’m from the UK and I have no idea what you do with it.

Also can we appreciate how good looking my Arthur is in that gif. I screen recorded it myself just for this fic. 

Also Merry fuckin’ Christmas y’all! and if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you’re having a wonderful holidays! 

Keep reading

May I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin with shy gn s/o?

The boys with a shy gn!Reader is here!

You know me, there's a few notes mentioning sex in each companion, but it is mostly fluff! So in that case, MDNI

Astarion:

Probably teases you about how shy you are constantly.

Seems like the kind of guy to tease you in public, pinching you when he comes up behind you to hear you gasp. Enjoying the way your face heats up, envious of the fact your skin can still get hot.

Would also probably be very sweet about you not speaking up, I can see him as the kind of guy to stand up for you, regardless if you're shy or not. Type of man to be like “they asked for no pickles>:(“

If you get anxious when you're loud or have horrible social anxiety, he'd lay back on the teasing in front of people. Teasing in private though? Still on the table. Would love to whisper in your ear and watch you stammer about, trying to find the right words to say.

If you're still at camp, he'd try to get you to make loud noises during sex in his tent. Wants everyone to know he can make you make those noises.

If you make yourself a home with him after the Elder Brain, he'd still love to make you squirm and scream.

Gale:

I LOVE HIM

sorry, that slipped out.

Would probably be so nice about you being shy, speaking up for you when you need it. Hand on your arm or lower back to comfort you when you're speaking.

If you stammer a lot, he would be the most intense listener. Sitting and waiting and enjoying the way you get flustered. Giving you an almost teasing smile that's more genuine than teasing, but he just loves you so so much.

He probably loves to shower you in gifts. Especially if you speak up for yourself in any situation. You managed to tell someone off for being an asshole to you? He is giving you the prettiest piece of jewellery. If you don't wear jewellery, he'll buy you clothes.

Tara also probably loves that you're shy, she can talk your ear off and you can just sit and listen to her rambles. Gale loves watching you two get so close.

Not as teasing during sex as Astarion. But he does love if you make noise. He praises you the entire time, telling you how wonderful you are.

If you're not open to making noise, even during sex, he is totally fine with that. He jokes that he moans enough for the both of you (which may or may not be true).

Wyll:

The most gentlemanly boyfriend in the entire world. Yeah I said it.

Probably wouldn't tease you at all. He'd love that you're so shy and quiet. I can see him as someone who enjoys comfortable silence with each other, so make sure to grab a book or a hobby you can do with him because those will be some of your dates.

All the time, will do those little dances with each other. He knows you're shy so he'll stick to doing it in private. But, you know from his kiss animation, he will twirl you around and watch you giggle from his ministrations.

If he has his horns, I can see him trying to purposely bonk you on the head with them to watch you giggle. This man will do anything to make you laugh. He loves watching you be happy.

Also a gentleman in bed. Does anything and everything to make you feel good first. Again, would love it if you made noise during bed.

But I don't think he's purposely trying to get you to make noise. If you just don't want to, he'll still make sure you enjoy yourself.

I can see him being a little insecure if you're not as loud, wanting to make sure you felt good the entire time. Just make sure you reassure him because he's a sensitive one.

Halsin:

Halsin, Halsin, Halsin, where do I even start.

He would be soooo teasing if you were shy, not as much as Astarion though. He can see him as a mix of both the vampire and the wizard, wanting to tease you but giving you comfort with a hand on your shoulder.

I can see him absentmindedly braiding your hair (if your hair is long enough), that's another one of his ways that he comforts you. Your hair will always be littered with braids. Small or big.

Like Wyll, he enjoys the comfortable silence between the two of you. He likes to sit outside in nature and listen to the sounds of the day. The animals making noise, the creaking of branches, the wind that whistles, he loves it all. And he'd love to enjoy it all with you.

He is always so big, he can't help but stick up for you when you need it. It's like, in his gigantic nature.

He is just so big, it's hard for him to be gentle during sex. I have a feeling you'll probably end up making some noise with him no matter what. Halsin lives to please you. You will be screaming (or at least, moaning much louder than you would normally) by the end of the night with him.

He's a big ol' teddy bear. Give this man hugs at every moment of the day. If you get overwhelmed with people, hug this man. Your worries will slip away instantly.

Housewife situation fem!reader with abby anderson???? Fluff and smut or whtv you want!! <3

Ok here's the thing, I love love love Abby Anderson. Like I have an enormous crush on her okay. And I just—THE BRAINROT IS REAL. And picturing a whole housewife scenario with her??? This just makes me want to marry her ONG 😩😩😩😩😩😩

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Abby always wakes up early since she's got the morning patrol. She'll be out of bed before the sun rises, and she'll pepper your face with kisses as she leaves.

You grab her by the wrist, the hem of her shirt, her hand—whatever you can reach of her in your half-dozed state.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling her towards you, and she sits on the bed beside you. “Please. Just five more minutes.”

“You know I can't, baby,” she tells you, brushing your messy hair off your face. “I'll be late to work.”

“Please,” you insist, cuddling into her lap, her thighs strong beneath her khakis.

She sighs gently and caves. “Five more minutes,” she agrees, holding you, caressing your face. She loves how you look so pleased that she's staying five minutes more beside you. Sometimes, she can't understand how she managed to get someone like you to love her. It amazes her as much as it thrills her.

When the five minutes are over, she presses kisses to your forehead as she says her goodbyes, and you watch her go with half-lidded eyes.

You get out of bed a few hours later, when the sun is bright and shining through the thin curtains. You change out of your pajamas into a pair of small shorts and one of Abby's t-shirts that smells like her, and get to your chores.

You make yourself breakfast and clean your plates, you sweep the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom, and the hall. You dance and sing on your own with a few songs that play on the radio, and you think about Abby.

You make the bed, organize the pillows, fold your pajamas and Abby's. As you're working and singing, your eyes fall on the pretty pink box of yours that Abby stashed under the bed.

Your pussy clenches at the knowledge of what's in there, and, even though you shouldn't—you still have chores to do and no time to waste—you slide the box out from under the bed and open it.

Inside: a tube of lube, a rabbit vibrator, a few bullet vibrators, handcuffs, and a stack of Polaroids that you're quickly reaching for. You realize that Abby's strap on isn't here, which only riles you up more because it means she's wearing it to work.

You climb on the bed, eyes scanning over the pictures. There you are, all teary-eyed and swollen lips as you suck on Abby's cock. Another picture of you with your thighs spread, your slick dripping down to the bed, your thighs covered in hickeys. A third one reveals your breasts, littered in bite marks and hickeys, Abby's mouth in the picture as she sucks your nipple. Another one, you on all fours while Abby fucks you from behind, the strap on coated in your slick, your ass red from where Abby's rough hands have been gripping it.

You can feel your pussy throbbing, your arousal pooling onto your panties. You lay back against the pillows, one hand rubbing your pussy over your shorts while you continue studying the pictures.

Abby fucking you from behind, both of you standing as she forces you to watch yourself in a mirror, the flash a bright white against the edge of the mirror. A picture you took, Abby's gorgeous blue eyes looking right into the lens from between your thighs, your pussy raw, Abby's mouth and chin covered in your slick as she eats you out.

You push your shorts to the side, along with your panties, and run your fingers over your dripping folds. A soft breath leaves your lips as you brush soft circles on your clit.

Another Polaroid shows you on top of Abby, your head thrown back, your chest on display as you ride her.

You pinch your clit, placing the Polaroids on the bed beside you, focusing on your fingers on your cunt and wishing it was Abby touching you.

Unbeknownst to you, Abby has taken advantage of the fact that it's Friday, and she's managed to get someone to replace her afternoon shift. By midday, she's making her way back home. Back to you.

The radio is on, some late 80s jam playing loud enough for Abby to hear the music through the door as she fetches her keys out of her pocket.

She unlocks the door and walks in, shutting it after herself. She walks down the hall, making her way toward the kitchen in search of you when she hears you gasping in the bedroom.

Somewhat alarmed, Abby rushes towards the bedroom, swinging the ajar door open and saying, “Baby?” only to find you on the bed, all spread out, soaked shorts and panties pushed to the side while you fuck yourself.

You jump when you see Abby, quickly removing your fingers from your cunt. “Bee!” you say, shocked, as you sit up, trying to recover your breath.

Her blue eyes study the bed, the Polaroids you were using to get off, the pink box full of your sex toys, and she's quick to do the math.

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you always touch yourself when I'm not home?”

You swallow, cheeks warming with a blush, and shake your head. “No, I-I was going to get started on lunch, I just—You're home early,” you stutter out.

“Lunch, you say?” She grins, ignoring your comment as she makes her way toward the bed, discarding her jacket and her halter on the ground. “That sounds real good right about now. I'm fuckin' starving.”

You watch as she climbs on the bed, crawling towards you, and she places her hands on your hips. With a quick, swift movement, she pulls your shorts and your panties off, and tosses them aside.

You gasp softly as she leans down, placing her mouth to one of your thighs, then the other, before licking over your folds.

You shudder, laying back down against the pillows, your nails digging into the bed sheets. “Bee,” you mewl lowly. “Please, I've needed you so bad.”

Abby smirks before she presses her face into your pussy, her nose against your clit, her mouth sucking at your folds before her tongue slides into you.

You reach for her head, fingers eagerly tugging at her braid until you manage to pull it loose. Her blond locks fall over her shoulders, and you tangle your fingers in them, hips rutting up to meet her face.

“Abs,” you whine, legs trembling around her head. She lifts your thighs and wedges her broad shoulders between them, placing your legs to rest on her shoulders.

She drags her teeth over your clit, making you shudder, and she smirks. She loves how sensitive you are when she touches you, how you get soaked with only a few licks. You're so easy for her, and she loves it.

“Please,” you gasp, back arching off the bed, your eyes fluttering shut. Your fingers drag through Abby's thick hair, pulling her closer, your cunt raw and throbbing against her tongue.

She groans into you, making you mewl, and she can feel her own pussy growing wet, soaking the strap on she wore. She enjoys having eight inches of pink silicone between her thighs, imagining you on it, impatient to get home and stuff it inside you.

“Fuck me,” you beg, trying to pull her away from between your thighs. “I need you inside, Abs. Please.”

“Not yet,” she says, her voice reverberating through you. “I want you t'come f'r me first.”

You groan, mewling. “Okay, okay,” you agree. “Mmphf! 's so good!”

Your body is trembling, your pleasure coiling in your womb and threatening to snap. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your nails digging into her scalp.

“Abby! Please, fuck!” you cry out. She can tell you're close, both by the hitch in your voice and the way your slick gushes out of you.

She nuzzles her face against your pussy, sending you whirling over the edge. You mewl, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Abby—Oh, God!”

And then your orgasm crashes over you, making your thighs shake, your thighs squeezing her head. She laps up your orgasm, drinking every last drop, enjoying your sweet sent and your taste.

As she pulls away from you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, you reach for her. You grab onto her shirt, making her crawl over you, and she cages your body beneath hers.

Her mouth finds your lips with ease, sneaking her tongue between them, allowing you to taste yourself. You wrap your hands around her neck, threading your fingers into her hair.

She pulls away from the kiss to push her pants and boxers down, low enough for the silicone cock to spring free. You spread your legs wider, eager, and she smiles before caging you under her once more.

She guides the dildo between your folds, teasing your entrance for a moment before sliding into you. You gasp, wrapping your legs around her waist and forcing her deeper until her hips meet yours.

“Fuck,” Abby hisses out as you buck your hips up, causing the strap on to rub against her swollen clit.

“Abs, please,” you beg, grating your hips in search of more friction. “Please.”

Abby has had something on her mind for a while now. Something she wants to propose to you but is a little shy to admit. Yet, she takes her chance now, and asks, “You think you can call me something else, love? Give me a pretty nickname when I fuck you?”

Your eyes meet hers, the blue darkened by her lust, pupils blown wide. “Okay,” you breathe, trembling.

“Call me Mommy, hm? Let's see how that sounds from your pretty lips.”

You're surprised at first, your eyes wide before they quickly glow with delight, excitement coursing through you. Your pussy clenches around the dildo, your heart racing.

“Mommy,” you say softly. “Mommy, fuck me. Please.”

Abby groans, heat rushing to her core at your words. “Fuck, baby. Such a good girl, goddamn.”

“I missed you,” you admit, dizzy with pleasure, drunk on the feel of Abby's body on top of yours. “I always miss you when you leave.”

She places a soft kiss on your forehead as she begins thrusting into you, making you gasp. “I miss you, too,” she tells you. “All the time. I wish I could take you to patrol with me, but it's dangerous work. I'd rather you stay here, safe.”

You mewl, nails digging into her back. “You could stay here with me,” you suggest, voice wavering as the pleasure runs through your veins, making you tremble. “We could be together all day.”

Abby smiles softly. “You know I can't, honey. It's my job,” she says, gasping softly as the strap on adds more pressure against her clit.

“I know,” you reply. “I know. I just need you so much.”

She presses a kiss against your mouth, feeling your gummy walls tighten around the strap on. You mewl, eyes rolling back into your head, and Abby swallows the sound.

“I need you too, love,” she tells you. “I always need you.”

Her hips slam against yours, the bed squeaking beneath you, the headboard crashing into the wall.

“Mommy!” you cry, trying to pull her closer. “Please. Please.”

“Yeah, I'll make you come, baby,” she promises, breathless from the pleasure. “Don't you worry about that.”

You nod, shaking, the pleasure crawling through your veins and igniting your skin. “Fuck! Fuck! Mommy, 'm so close!”

She increases her pace, bruising your cervix, the dildo dragging against your g-spot. “Come on, my angel. I know you can do it,” she encourages. “Come on my cock, yeah? Be a good girl f'r me, baby.”

She licks your jaw, lowering her mouth to your neck. She bites on the delicate skin of your throat, her hips bruising yours, and she can feel how you scratch her back through her shirt.

Your cunt clenches around the strap on, making it harder for her to thrust in and out of you, and then you're hurling over the edge. You gasp and moan, body trembling uncontrollably, your pussy dripping onto the bed.

“Atta girl,” Abby says, burying her face in your shoulder as she feels her own orgasm nearing. Her clit aches beneath the rubs of the strap on, begging for release. She grinds her hips onto yours, making you mewl, and she's getting herself off at the same time.

When you buck your hips up, meeting hers, it drives her to a frenzy and pushes her over the edge.

“Fuck! Goddamn,” she moans, biting your shoulder through the thin material of the t-shirt you're wearing as she comes, her broad figure trembling. She rests the weight of her body on you as she tries to catch her breath. She places her head on your chest, hearing your racing heart, and you run your fingers through her tangled hair, caressing her head gently.

“I love you,” you tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So much, Abby.”

“I love you,” she replies, kissing your neck. “You're everything to me, angel. What would I do without you?”

You smile. “Come back to a messy house?” you joke.

She shakes her head, pushing herself up so she's not crushing you under her weight, and she kisses your lips. “You know that's not what I mean,” she says, the words falling right against your mouth. “Without you, I'd be empty, love. All alone, without anyone to understand me, without anyone to love me.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, giving her mouth a peck. “I'll always be with you, Abs. I'll always love you. You know there's no one else out there that can even come close to comparing to you. You're it for me, Abby.”

She kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, and then your lips. It's a soft, slow kiss, gentle and loving. It makes you happy, a bubbly sensation bursting in your chest.

“How come you're home early?” you question as she pulls away to press a trail of open mouthed, wet kisses down your neck.

“I wanted to be with you,” she says. “I felt guilty this morning when I left. I haven't spent as much time with you lately, with the Fireflies needing more people to patrol, and me too willing to help. I-I haven't given you the time or attention you deserve, and I'm sorry for that.”

You kiss her again, softly. “You're here now, Abs. That's all that matters.”

She pulls out of you and you're left sore, aching in the best way, and then Abby's cleaning you.

She helps you into a pair of new panties and shorts, and then you make your way to the kitchen. As you cook, Abby helps you, chopping vegetables, finding the seasoning, setting the table—anything she can.

You stand in front of the stove, stirring the food, and Abby hugs you from behind, placing her head on your shoulder, humming in your ear.

She raises the volume of the radio and grabs your hand, pulling you toward her, and she leads you around the kitchen, dancing. You laugh, delighted, having missed her so much. This past week she's been particularly busy, leaving early and returning late, with barely any time to spend together.

Abby watches the joy on your face and her heart melts, feeling so fucking lucky. She makes you this happy, and that just makes her dizzy with awe.

How did she get you to love her?

You have lunch, and then you cuddle on the bed and Abby tells you all about her day and she just releases all the stress she has pent up. You two take a small nap, with you in her arms and one of her legs around you, and wake up a while later.

You make popcorn, Abby chooses a movie, and then you pretend to watch it while mostly talking to each other.

It gets late quick and you grow tired. Abby pulls you to her, allowing you to rest your head on her chest, and you're quick to fall asleep. Abby kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and she promises herself that she will spend more time with you. Nothing matters if she's not with you.

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@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

Should I tag you in works about other fandoms as well??? Please tell me so I don't tag you in works that aren't your type!

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Blog masterlist

Falling asleep on Daryl would include :

(Woooo more fluffy prompts! Awwww Daryl :3 Hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gif not mine/found it on google/credit to the original)

-Him being startled for a moment to feel your head on his shoulder and pushing you to the other side, only to realize it was you and grabbing you back

-Him feeling bad for his action earlier and just whispering apologies to you while stroking your hair as if to reassure you

-Him cupping your face and approaching you closer to his shoulder or sometimes even his neck to feel your warm breath on him

-Him tucking your hair away from your neck thinking it might be bother you and resting his hand there to comfort you

-Him always lowering the sound of the radio when he drives or telling the others to do so to avoid waking you up

-Him wondering if he should hold your hand, only to careful approach yours and slowly grab it

-Him sometimes just looking away from you to let you rest thinking that his gaze might bother you

-Him feeling your drool on him and just laughing, realizing how childish you are and jokingly telling you to close your mouth despite knowing you won’t hear him

-Him giving dirty looks to anyone around who doesn’t keep their voice down around you and just asking them sarcastically if they can’t see that you’re asleep

-Him letting himself get comfortable with you and slouching in the seat to let you rest on his chest before drifting to sleep

Hey you guys! I have hit 100 followers so I made this quick gift! It’s another set of recolors using the same mesh as the Mod Abstract prints that I posted last week.  All images are from The British Library’s collection of vintage space & sci-fi illustrations.

❤ Thank you so much for the follows, everyone! I hope you enjoy the prints! ❤

Vintage Space Wall Art

5 original designs

standalone recolors

design tool enabled & custom thumbnails

DOWNLOAD: dropbox

TOU: Please do not re-upload or claim as your own. And, if you wanna, tag #sjane4prezcc so I can see what you make!

Credits: original mesh [BLACK], recolors by dailywizard

Made with Sims 4 Studio