Grumpy Puppet Novels & Stories

Between my legs, a totally foreign, warm sensation tingles—something that hasn't made an appearance in my body in longer than my wolf can remember, completely awakening my inner lady parts. He positions our bodies this way and that way for the flashing stones. A bright Hollywood smile stretches across my painted lips, but my grumpy fake boyfriend remains completely true to his usual form. I suggested earlier that he should make a real effort to look happy, but the only thing my wolf got from him was a dubious, dark stare. What would it actually take for this giant, grumpy beast to smile for real?

It made my organs curl and have a party inside my body. He smiled at me. He looks like a toothpaste endorser with his perfect smile. I looked at his face. He has a sharp nose, perfect jawline and a pink, thin kissable lips. In short, for me he’s perfect! “Thanks, Ms. We’re sorry again.” He said and left with the man. "Hey, Dani let’s go." I came back to reality when Cyrille tapped me on the shoulder. I held my chest because my heart was still beating non-stop. I could feel it’s beating so fast.

I looked at Ginger who had her mouth wide open. “What?” I ask. She didn’t reply. “Close that mouth of yours.. Flies will go in.” I say tapping her chin. She quickly shuts her mouth immediately. “You just touched the gum which is disgusting by the way!” showing a disgusted look to me. “Great now I have germs on me.” She says, “I’m going to wash my face and you lady must wash your hands before you even touch me after you touch something really disgusting like that. I just groan.

I didn’t deserve to wear this because Dylan didn’t want me as his mate. A lump rose in my throat, but then Bert’s voice sounded beside me, “Do you think John’s ever gonna lay off the ribs?” I followed my friend’s gaze, biting my lip to hide a smile. John, one of the older members of the pack opposite, was tucking into his third plate of red meat. The man had terrible gout but was notoriously bad at restraint. John often joked it was his wolf’s appetite. I smothered a laugh as John’s wife nagged him.

“Let’s face it, Osborne. That girl is nothing but a fat, disgusting, low-life hippo—” That was it. The last straw. In a flash, I had her by the throat, lifting her clean off the ground with one hand. Fury burned through me, tightening every muscle. Her feet kicked against empty air, and still her lips curled into that mocking smile, like she’d won something by driving me to anger, her hands held mine. But her words fell flat against the fire in my chest. My grip tightened, and my voice was a growl, vibrating with fury. “At least that ‘pig’ has something you’ll never have, Bella”

“Can you imagine what they would do if they ever got their hands on a Theta?” Gabe growled low in his throat and the little girl on his back made a frightened sound. “It’s okay Sara. You’re safe. Gabe just likes to grump a lot. I think he’s a really old man. Like a grandpa, you know? Grandpas are always grumpy. It’s because their bones ache, you know?”

I smiled, fighting back the tears “Look, he even brought one of his toys to show you today.” "Uh... Hey, Annie. I'm Theo." he whispered shyly, looking up several times as if to make sure I was there, before approaching the grave "This is my teddy bear. Eden calls him Mr. Grumpy. He didn't have a name before, so she gave him one. She also told me you always stay here while she works babysitting, so..." To my surprise, he placed the teddy bear against the headstone, leaving it there "I brought Mr. Grumpy for you. It's a gift. So you won't be alone."

Let's use that name since that word seems to mean 'yes' or 'agree' from his perspective. Besides having soft fur, beautiful eyes, and a soft belly, Gru is also a good listener. More precisely, he has a funny and cute reaction to every story I tell him. He would be whining when I told him about sad things, he would also pat my hand with his little paw. As if to comfort me. When my story turned into a series of curses I aimed at Luelle, he would growl, too, showing his fangs. Indeed, this was a strange but pleasant encounter.

“Your parents are not dead. You’re not easy to control! You aren’t suitable to be a puppet!” “Unfortunately, I, Harvey York, am not a puppet either.” “No one has the right to make me a puppet!”

"The housing market in the capital is insane. You can’t afford a closet on a barista’s wage, let alone an apartment. And besides, we like having you here. Blanche loves having her uncle around." Right on cue, five-year-old Blanche looked up from her pancakes, her thick brown hair tied in messy pigtails. She had a streak of maple syrup on her cheek and an expression that was far too observant for a kindergartner. "Uncle Theo can't move out, Mommy," Blanche piped up. She looked completely convinced and serious. "He’s broke. I saw his piggy bank yesterday and it only had dusty coins and a button in it."