#'putting them in their place'... baby i hope you mean a crate

[sergle]

Thank you for not being on the Cesar Millan shit. God, that man is a horrid piece of shit.

oh god,one of those hardcore negative reinforcement dog trainers? actually I just googled him and GODDDDD THIS FUCKING SHIT LMAO. alpha..... also aren't his dogs also reactive? didn't they attack some people

brother come on

[sukunas-wife]

I wonder how would Yuji react to the news that he is going to be an older brother. Also, I'm just picturing little Yuji being protective of momma the entire pregnancy. He wants to look after his mom like big daddy Sukuna.

It took a while- and I mean this as in this ask was from January 😭 and I hate when I actually become active, my life decides it wants to pick up also

But 🤍🤍🤍

Yuji is confused but excited when you sit him in your lap and tell him, “Yuji, I have good news.��� He just smiled up at you with starry eyes hoping you’ve gotten him another pet. “Yes?” “You’re going to be an older brother.”

His smile drops and he pouts for a second, “No pet?” You have to tell him no and explain what you mean by he’s going to be an older brother. The moment he learns his brother or sister is in your stomach he’s quick to stand between your legs pressing his ear to your stomach trying to listen and see if he can hear them.

“I don’t hear anything… it’s empty.” He pats your belly lightly with hand before saying “hellooo.” You have to hold back your laugh as you run a hand over his head brushing back his hair. “You won’t hear anything for a while. Maybe when they get bigger you’ll get to feel them kick and you’ll know they’re there.”

He nodded his face with a serious look holding his little fists, “They gotta get bigger.” You couldn’t fight back squeezing him in a hug and he laughed hugging you back just a tight.

Of course he forgets your holding his sibling captive in your stomach. Until, you’re out on a walk to the village and a man runs right into you and your swollen stomach while holding a heavy crate of fruit.

All he remembers was his dad holding the man by his neck with one hand, threatening to cut the man alive with the nails on his other hand and telling him since he felt generous he’d let him live for now.

After taking the man’s crate of fruit that he abandoned, you were already scavenging through it for something. Stopping only when you felt your husband stare and you smiled sheepishly at him. “What? The baby’s hungry.” Sukuna sighed, “But is it well?”

Of Course when you stood up holding a mango and patting your stomach, “Just excited, it started kicking the moment you yelled at that man. I get the feeling it’ll come to be another replica.” You scoffed with a smile before holding the mango to him, “Will you please?”

That’s when it kicks into Yuji, “I GOTTA MAKE SURE NO ONE HURTS MOMMY!”

He’s the incarnation of this c:<

Now that he’s seen his dad do it, in the palace the servants beware of Young Yuji. He once saw a male servant walking towards you with a knife, and with all his might ran at the man and tackled him screaming.

The servant man cut his own hand while falling, profusely apologising to Yuji for getting blood on his suit and for dirtying your fruit knife. You were shocked, staring at the scene before you dismissed the servant telling him not to worry about it and to tend to his wound while you sat Yuji on your lap. You couldn’t help but smile and hug your boy while he rambled on about how he showed that man not to mess with his mom.

After a stern talking too and explaining he needed to watch people before just running at them full force he understood his assignment. Even more when his dad called on him to “speak” with him alone.

In all honesty your beloved husband dropped a heavy hand on his head in a prideful way, his massive hand shaking Yuji’s head around while showing his affection. Yuji, who was used to it, was happy and smiling big. Then came his dad’s serious face. He sat Yuji infront of him on the floor. It was his father but he was still an intimidating man when he became serious.

“Yuji, I need you to understand that I may not always be around. As my son, my only son, my first born child, I’m going to trust you to take care of your mother and your sibling. You’re young, but I know you are more than capable of putting a few petty fools in their place. I need you to understand that I’m trusting you, not only with your mother, but my wife. One of the few things I would risk everything to protect, even more when your sibling is in its way. I don’t want you to think that I’m putting all of this weight on you, but there are very few in this world I trust, and I’m trusting you. Please understand how important this is to me, and how important it should be to you. Your burdens are mine to carry, your mothers are mine to carry, I won’t push my own onto either of you, but now I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I knew you weren’t capable or trustworthy.” Yuji sat there staring up at his dad, who was staring down at him. Yuji smiled brightly out of nowhere before tilting his head to the side. “Taking care of our family isn’t a burden.”

It was interesting for Yuji the more your stomach swole. He watched his dad kneel in front of you pressing his ear to your stomach tapping on it like it were a melon listening to see if it were good. Yuji became curious and wanted to listen also. It led you to laugh when he felt it moving.

He was scared, saying it felt like a snake moving around. And just like his dad he was smiling like a fool when your child would give a strong kick to their hands for tapping and bothering them so frequently.

Yuji thought it was funny how sometimes his dad would stand behind you and lift your stomach with his lower set of arms. And you’d always perk up and be happier. So, one day when he noticed you complaining and whining while rubbing your stomach and back he did his best to stand in front of you and push your stomach up so he could lift up some of the weight.

Of course you cried and let him panic, almost dropping the entire weight of your stomach, until you placed a hand on his head smiling at him with teary eyes. His scared face fell into a soft smile, you couldn’t fight back squishing his cheeks. “My sweet boy, you’ve been helping me so much.” Caressing his face with a soft hand he can’t help but smile wider, shrugging his shoulders up as he let out a giggle. Of course not being as well built as his father he was caving in the first five minutes which made you laugh as you sat down only to have him tuck a pillow under your stomach to try and help you. He stood there looking at you hopefully.

He was smiling big when you smiled down at him, placing a hand on his head, ruffling hair in a far more gentle manner. He loved your little head pats and head rubs, they always made him feel loved when neither of you could find the words.

It was a humid spring day, and you were currently curing your husband for not getting you pregnant in the spring so you could at least have the comfort of the cool winter on your skin when you were laying on your bed more than anything else in your final days.

Laid out on your back you had felt your child shift a while ago. The movement had disappeared not long after that, but you were certain you were going to be prone to peeing yourself if it didn’t stop pressing against your bladder soon. Still, here you were, hands in your stomach feeling your intestines grumble as the little bit of fruit you ate started to move and settle.

Yawning and stretching while arching your back relieved you a bit before you slid down into your bed further. The blankets and sheets had been thrown over to the side where your husband was just laying before he got up to bring you cool water. The sun was setting but the rainstorms had left the day and night humid in an incredulous manner. You cursed your husband for being a man who could walk around without a shirt in this heat.

To think all those months ago at the summers peak when you complained that you couldn’t and he stripped you saying of course you could, was the same day he had actually gotten you pregnant upset you more. You refused to listen to his reasoning as you laid there in your thin white under robes.

You remember Yuji’s birthday, a woman was killed that day because she was too eager to see your husband and you were walking around like a badass with contractions for 8 hours. Now look at yourself, whining at the heat as you struggled to sit up, Yuji not only had softened you but also his father who was currently walking in yawning while holding a clay pitcher topped with a cup. “I brought it.”

He sat beside you placing the pitcher on your night stand as he helped lift you up to sit. You both sat in silence as he watched you drink your water and whine about wanting to stand and get out of that hot room.

He helped you up supporting your weight on his side as you waddled the cold floors of your shinden zukuri. You both came across Yuji’s room, you laughed quietly as you heard him snoring through the door. “He’s tired, he’s been with me everyday for the last month doing everything now.” Sukuna hummed, taking your hand and squeezing it, “That’s our son.”

You smiled up at him, you saw the shift in his face as he smiled at you which quickly changed when yours did. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you when you heard that heavy trickle of water. Both of you looking down, you knew well enough what was coming next.

—- —- —- —- —-

It didn’t take long for your daughter to come into the world.

It took longer for a frightened Yuji to walk in and see his sister. He slowly walked into your side as his dad nudged him forward.

You cooed at your boy squeezing him into your side and rubbing his shoulder and arm in a comforting way. He leaned against your shoulder and stared at the bundle in your arms, pink hair, pale skin, little angry fists and pout as she whined. “She looks just like dad….” You laughed, accidentally jostling the child in your arms. Yuji smiled at you before turning to smile at his dad who had the same angry pout only directed at his words, “I DON'T look like that.”

You smiled and kept rubbing Yuji’s arm, “Do you want to hold her while she’s sleeping?” You tried to shuffle your way up the bed to sit before Yuji held your arm down, “I’ll take care of her mom, so you can sleep.” His bright eyed smile warmed your heart, as you did your best to guide him on how to hold his sister.

Sukuna was right there with Yuji watching him as you leaned back into your bed feeling the exhaustion weigh over you. You wanted to rest a bit only to hear Yuji’s small voice, “‘m gonna take care of you, I’m your big brother, I'll always protect you.” Through squinted eyes you could see Sukuna place a heavy hand on Yuji’s shoulder smiling down at him, Yuji was cooing and smiling at his little sister Anya.

Tag list: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille

[keeksandgigz]

thinking of eddie helping you braid your hair when you’re getting ready to spend the night

made this about eddie and witchy because i cannot stop thinking about them- this is also for the anon who said they can't stop reading it (thank u hehehe)

fluffy fluff below the cut, witchy being jealous and thinking of hexing his exes <3

He had to drag you into his apartment.

In a hilarious turn of events, due to some kind of San Francisco strike, all metro routes were suspended and there was no way you were going to walk in heeled boots all the way to Twin Peaks.

"Why call an Uber, baby? You can literally come upstairs at mine" Eddie says, watching you huff as you read over the e-mail about the strike.

"No Eddie you don't understand. I need to be home. I have a whole ritual! And silk pillowcases! Why can't you just drive me?" you whine, hoping he'll fold to your requests like he always does.

He grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a tender look.

"Because, my lovely witchy, metro routes being down means there will be absolute pandemonium in the streets. And I'm not trying to stay fifteen minutes stuck in downhill traffic" he laughs as you follow him around the store.

He's still working, you got off an hour before and after walking around the vintage stores for an hour there wasn't much else to do. It's just him in the record shop, working the closing shift. You follow him around trying to convince him to drive you back as he puts back the vinyls in the milk crates, folds band t- shirts, and rearranges patches in the display case.

"C'mon, witchy, just go up. I have Chinese takeout from last night or spaghetti if you wanna cook, I'll stop by the hair place across the block to get you a silk pillowcase. Promise" he says, leaning over the counter to kiss your forehead he opens up the cash till.

"But Ed-" you whine, you've never slept outside of your apartment before.

"No buts, I'm sorry witchy. Now get your cute butt out of here, I've got money out" he says, puckering his lips, ready for a kiss.

You lean over the counter and give him a quick kiss before he hands you the keys to his apartment.

"Don't forget to call Lorraine to get her to feed Circe!" he exclaims before you're out the door. You roll your eyes, of course you'll call Lorraine, your neighbor, if Lorraine existed.

But he doesn't have to know you can feed Circe with a snap of your finger whenever you forget to leave food out in the morning.

So you groan and you go through the backdoor of the store to reach the small, dingy courtyard of his apartment. Second floor, apartment 5C.

This building is so old it doesn't even have an elevator. You reach the door and open it, the rattle of keys falling over the counter is the only sound that can be heard, along with the clack of the short heels of your boots.

You take your shoes off and go through his fridge. Day- old Chinese takeout, a carton of eggs and milk. Three cans of Sierra Nevada, a half- drunk bottle of Coke Zero. You open his freezer.

Honey walnut shrimp and fried rice from Trader Joe's, a bottle of vodka, and a tub of ice cream from the last time you were craving it.

You roll your eyes and pick up the phone.

"Hey Ed, you have jack shit in your fridge. Can you stop by the Greek place down the block? I’ll have a gyro with chicken and falafel on the side” you request, hearing his groan at another chore he has to do post closing.

“Baby the Chinese food in the fridge is pretty good, it’s from the place we always go to” he’s not very convincing, but he’s tired and now lost count of the cash he was counting.

“‘kay i’ll put an online order for it so you just have to go pick it up, sound good?” you ignore him.

“Ugh fine but I better get, like, the biggest kiss in return.“ he groans, but it’s true. He is a weak, weak man when it comes to you. “Get me the pita wrap with lamb and fries, and lemme also get seasoned fries on the side. Thank you witchy, love you gotta go” he says, hanging up the phone.

So you order the food and then sneak in Eddie's bedroom to change into something comfortable. Getting rid of that fine line when clothes felt too much like clothes, the stitching pressing into your skin, the cuffs of your sweater feeling a bit too tight against your wrists, your jeans too tight on your legs.

So you venture in his closet and steal a pair of sweats and a ratty black t- shirt. One of his many. You go to the bathroom and notice there's no mirror. This dude.

So you tie your hair away from your face and use the nice face wash you got him- which you're sure he rarely uses- and wipe the makeup off your face. You go look for a clean towel, 'cause God knows you will not be wiping your face with the hand towel sitting on the rod on the wall.

After your face is clean you plop yourself on the couch and watch TV to pass the time.

Thirty- odd minutes later a rattling of keys startles you. Eddie walks through the door with his arms full of plastic bags. He places them on the counter.

"Hey witchy, I see you've made yourself at home?" he says, as you walk towards him and bury yourself in his arms. At least he smelled nice.

"Hmmm missed you, Ed" you mutter against the fabric of his t- shirt.

"You missed me?" you give a little nod, followed by a hum. His heart beats a bit faster, it's nice knowing you think of him when he's away.

"Aw, witchy. I missed you too, are you hungry?" he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the head as he detaches from your grip and reaches for the bag with the food, taking out the boxes.

"Also stopped by the hair place, got you that silk pillowcase and some shampoo and conditioner to keep here. Doubt you'll wanna use my three in one shit" he snickers, and you blush timidly. He's not sweet in the way that he'll kiss you in the middle of the street, but he is for sure sweet in the way he thinks about you an embarrassing amount of times a day.

"Thanks Ed, you didn't have to do that" you say, and he blushes, the boy tinges himself pink because you appreciate him.

"Y'know, anything for you" he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he brings the takeout boxes to the coffee table.

You follow him and plop down on the couch "I was watching 'Sex and the City' while you were gone" you explain, biting into your gyro.

"Was Samantha being her usual crazy self?" he doesn't even know who Samantha is, but he thinks it's funny to ask you every time. You giggle as he puts on a random show for you to watch.

After an episode Eddie stands up and stretches.

"I'm beat, I think it's time for bed" he says "c'mon, witchy"

You rise from the couch and follow him into the master bathroom.

“I have a toothbrush here for you, I kinda uh-“ from his tone you can tell he’s embarrassed “I got one for here the first time you came over, in case you ever, y’know, wanted to sleep over” he says sheepishly, while you wrap your arms around him.

He offers it to you, it’s pink. Your favorite color.

“Aw, Ed. You’re so sweet, thank you” you say and you swear you can see him blush as you place a delicate kiss on his warming cheek.

This slice of domesticity taken away from the mystic vibe of your apartment really makes you wonder. It makes you think about a normal life, with him.

The way he washes his face like a madman (without face wash), letting the water wet his bangs instead of pulling his hair back, the way he ties his hair up before brushing his teeth.

You take the toothbrush out of your mouth "Ah shtill don' undestand why you don' have a mirrah" you sputter, mouth full as you spit the toothpaste in the sink.

"Why I don't have a mirror? Previous tenant broke it and my asshole landlord still won't fix it" he says, taking off his shirt. Your eyes linger on the lines of his back a little too long, bordering the line between looking and staring.

So you turn around and you try to braid your hair without a mirror, but to no avail, every strand seems to be three different sizes.

You groan in frustration as Eddie approaches you.

"Lemme help, witchy" he says, standing behind you and tending an arm out for a hair tie.

He divides the hair into three strands. Your hair is so soft between his fingers.

He wishes he could stall so that he could caress it for longer, but an impatient yawn escapes your mouth as his hands deftly get to work. Over, under, over, under-

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" you ask, feeling the way he softly holds each strand, making sure he's not pulling at your scalp. You don't see him, but a smile forms around his tongue, peeking out of his lips in concentration. Over, under.

"I had girlfriends before you, witchy. They taught me to braid my own hair" he chuckles, as you try to tune out the word girlfriends. Under, over, under.

He can see a pout form on your lips, he smiles.

"Why'd you need to braid your hair?" you huff, thinking of going on a spiraling rampage and hexing every one of his exes. Over.

"Well" he begins "one time, an ex braided my hair and it came out super curly, so I wanted to try it myself. Turns out it needs to stay in the braid for a while for that to happen" he shrugs.

Under, over, tie.

"All done," he announces, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Thanks, Ed" you examine the braid, flinging it over your shoulder "looks really nice" you say, and give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He gets himself into bed. His bed is oddly comfortable and his sheets smell of laundry detergent.

"I might have been washing my sheets every other day in case you wanted to sleep over" he confesses, blushing, as he lifts his arm, opening the warmth of his chest to you.

"You" you give him a kiss "are literally" another kiss "the sweetest guy" another kiss "in the history of always" last kiss.

He gets flustered when you call him sweet, because under the hardening exterior of black chains and shirts with exploding heads and hooded skeletal figures, there's just a sweet guy who loves you and wants you to like him for being himself.

"Just want you to, you know, have a good experience with me" he says, caressing your head.

"You get an 11/10 Yelp rating, can't recommend to anyone, though. You seem to be preoccupied with a really cool girl, and it seems it's going to go on forever" you giggle, as he smiles and gives you a kiss.

"Go to sleep, cool girl. Goodnight, love you" he says, before turning off his lights.

"Goodnight, Ed" you say, turning over so he can spoon you.

"You have to say it back" he whispers in the quiet of the dark room.

"Right, sorry. I love you too, Ed" you correct yourself and close your eyes, falling into one of the best sleeps you've ever had in your life.

The morning after, Eddie wakes up to his landlord bringing in a new mirror, his hair extra curled and all his exes blocked on his social media. But he doesn't have to know about that last one.

[doorrobloxstuff]

Changing the lock [AMB]

Triggers and tag stuff: Violence, death, figure eats someone's head, Chronic pain. Kin stuff begins to leak in because author couldn't help himself. The Liberian/Rueben is a tiny little man compared figure.

THIS BABY HAS BEEN SITTIN ON THE GRILL FOR A WEEK. ENJOY. - SB

OC X CANON BUT IN A PLATONIC WAY. THEY ARE PARENT AND CHILD DO NOT FUCKING SHIP THEM I WILL KILL YOU!!! /hj

ALSO THE STRANGE SPELLING IN RUEBEN'S SPEECH IS INTENTIONAL HE HAS AN WESTERN-ISH ACCENT.

Also it isn't a doors fanfic unless atleast one person is dead. /j

ALSO, FIGURE USES ITS/IT'S PRONOUNS IN THIS AU. THESE ARE IT'S CANONICAL PRONOUNS + THE PRONOUNS IT USED WHILE I WAS RUSH. IF PREFERRED PRONOUNS ARE FOUND TO BE DIFFERENT PLEASE MESSAGE ME, I WILL ---

WARNING: LONG POST. I SERIOUSLY FUCKING MEAN IT.

.. Massive footsteps collide with a wooden floor in pursuit of a hidden prey. All their pursuer heard was their frantic....deafening heartbeat and the sound of a dresser door slamming shut. If that had not alerted the already ravenous and irritated Figure to their location then the sound of their frightened whimpers and shuffling from within their wooden concealment did. They had made a fatal mistake choosing to hide in a dresser.

The Figure tore open the dresser's doors, and effortlessly pulled it's screaming and thrashing meal from their hiding place. With that came only silence as serrated teeth met flesh.

'This one came alone.' The Figure thought, as it raised it's head. It's hearing organs perceived no other vibrations except for that of the gentle rattles of nearby air vents. With that realization the figure breathed a chuff of relief and bathed in the euphoric and elusive silence for an extended moment.

.. The sensation of it's victims still fresh blood pouring freely down it's knarred hands broke it's respite and a thought bubbled to the surface of it's mind. 'Eugh, not on my hands...' Figure managed a cringe through it's bloodied teeth and it propped up it's lunch against a nearby wall before neatly wiping it's hands on it's arm fungus like a napkin. As it did so, it heard something small and metallic hit the hardwood tiled flooring with a soft 'Ping!' The figure raised it's head in response and released a confused trill. Reaching over it felt something cold and ridged embedded jammed deep within a large..

...padlock...

'Aw shit, I gotta tell Pa about this..'

The figure tucked the broken padlock within its ribcage and navigated itself over to the right side of the library. Once it reached the farthermost right wall it brushed its hands lightly against its surface until it felt a wooden shelf that felt lighter then the others.

The figure opened it like a door, and awkwardly walked down a small metal corridor before stopping before stopping near a metal hatch on the ground. It grabbed the small handles on the top and twisted it until it clicked and opened up.

--

Blissful, gracious darkness occasionally interrupted by the faint aching in his chest. Followed by abstract spotty dreams of a past he'd hope just to forget completely. Bits of orange. Faint whispers and creaking of the hotel. Rueben woke up to loud and anxious trilling coming from ceiling hatch above his rusted box covered mess of a bunker. Callous hands met crusty eyes as he stared up at the ceiling and mutter-groaning out a response. "Alright..Alright I'm up..I'm up......Hhh.." He just stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before hesitantly trying to get up. Not even halfway up he felt a surge of pain raced up through his upper torso like a speeding train. Burning and tearing and rippling it's way up his chest. He rasped audibly through his teeth he forced himself to get up fully. Digging his teeth into his lip and tensing his back as he dragged himself up and out of bed. Once he got himself on his feet he made a long sigh of relief, reaching over and plucking his glasses, shirt and hat off a nearby crate and putting them on before grabbing a nearby water bottle and quickly downing the half bottle. The trills continued, becoming more louder and more urgent. "I'm comin..! Gimme a minute..." Once finished, he turned his head only to notice a freakishly large red arm had already made it's way down the hatch. Scraping up against the rusted ladder and lightly knocking against the wall. "Aw damn it Figgy, can't ya just wait a damn minute-?"

A shrill whine rang out in response that got an amused snort out of him. "Ahright. Point taken. Now get 'yer arm outa that hatch."

With a reluctant chuff, Figure pulled its arm out of the entrance to the bunker and Rueben climbed up and out of the bunker. He was greeted with a warble as he approached it. He was absolutely dwarfed by the massive entity that stood in front of him. Anyone who got this close was practically unheard of. With them either being an entity themself or have already had their head ripped off. With a tired yawn Rueben spoke. His voice raspy from lung injuries and past tobacco use. "Mornin..what's got you all fired up about?" When the entity spoke it formed sentences intangible to normal human ears. Distorted sound manipulated into pattern to create speech and prose. Yet, Rueben heard it as though it were practically normal English. Albeit it sounded distorted and full of bat-like clicks and buzzes. Another part of the contract. "Pa, it's 1:20..you slept through half of the entire day." It clicked. Tilting its head "If that's what you woke me up fer I'm goin right back down the hatch." The Entity grunted in response, before taking the destroyed lock out of its ribcage and handed it to its father who stared at the padlock. His hand shook and his body tensed for a moment before he lost grip his with his bad hand and dropped it on the floor. "God fuckin damn it, not again." He hissed, Figure flinched in response. Rarely had it heard him get angry. His heartbeat rising to deafening volume in its ears. Figure covered its ears and loudly trilled remind its father of what it could hear. Rueben regained some of his composure as he forced himself to calm down. "I'm sorry." He murmured. It leaned downwards and butted its head into his shoulder. Forcing himself to remain focused he rubbed his glasses and moved back towards the bunker's entrance. "Alright, I'm going to get out the spare lock now. Stick 'round here.." ... Figure sat in the library and listened to its father work away to remove additional damages done to the library's exit by the wanderer. The turning of a screwdriver, the sound of a turning key and the shuffling of papers followed by its father's stories and ramblings of things it never would see. "Can you believe this? Their gettin smarter I'm telling ya- now If only they used their darn heads 'ta keep outa here they would've been able to keep em." Rueben remarked, setting the new code on the lock before clicking it into place. He once done, he straightened out his back and sat down near Figure to chat and write down a new code. "I don't know their super loud and annoying but chasing them around IS pretty fun...!" It chirped, its head drifting over towards were it had killed the trespasser. It's stomach rumbled. "Eh, makes one of hell of a mess though. I mean, look what they did here! Every time they escape I gotta change that stupid lock ..'n this bastard just went up and all but broke it! ...That and them bloodstains are hard to get outa the carpet 'n the walls. I can SMELL that corpse you got squirreled away there from all the way down 'n the bunker. You ain't the only one with a good nose fig." "It tastes better then it smells, Pa." Figure chortled. "-and I bet it sure do, but WOO-EEE!.. Does it smell worse then a dead skunk dipped in acetone." He hooted back, fanning himself with his hat. "How do you know what THAT smells like..?" "Heh, No comment here." "..So I saw you 'prancin around with that Seek fellow. You pair are awful cuddly for someone who goes around sayin "We're just friends!"-"

Figure caterwauled, covering its face and biting the very tips of its fingers. A small pink blush raced across its face."PAPA..!" Rueben slapped his knee and laughed hard before a few loud coughs broke through. "I knew it all along too, I workin on them vents when you two came along and fawning over eachother. I was just waiting for ya to crack!" The Figure made a loud, whined filled sigh, pulling its fingers out of is mouth."I..we aren't..together.. I think..? It was just a cuddle, Pa. Just..don't tell the others..PLEASE." Its voice seemed to give off a hint of desperation that Rueben quickly picked up on. The man sighed, stopped writing and put a hand on Figure's shoulder. "Give it awhile. From the way its lookin at you it ain't gonna be too long. Just gotta have a bit of confidence, that's all. But why don't you want me talkin about it?" Figure sighed, shaking its head. "...I just want to keep it a secret, okay? Just incase things go..sour. I don't want to be bullied by Rush for all of eternity just because I was rejected." "You really shouldn't be scared of it, but I get were the wind's blowin." Reaching over and setting the lock a second time before handing figure the freshly written papers. "Welp, keep em hidden this time. I'm gonna go back to the bunker and take a nap. I'll come out again round ten or so to get us a few pigs." Figure nodded and gave its father a friendly butt of its head. Rueben smiled and headed back to the bunker. Blissfully unaware of a small blue flicker nearby. --

HAPPY FANFICTION FRIDAY NERDS!!! HAVE SOME OC X CANON BUT INSTEAD OF ROMANCE FIGURE HAS A DAD!!!

Also I'm experimenting with using the chat setting on posts for fanfics. Tell me what you think!

[oddmawd]

THE GRASP OF GILDED STRINGS - Chapter 12 [A Doflamingo/OC Fanfic]

SYNOPSIS: Through violence and bloodshed, Donquixote Doflamingo carved out a world of his own making. Now someone is mending the broken toys of Dressrosa with gold — and they did not ask the king of the island for permission. In a land he rules with an iron fist, this small act of rebellion cannot go unchallenged...but for all his schemes and plans, Doflamingo was unprepared to meet the woman behind the gold. Through dogged determination, Saffron engineered a quiet place for herself in the kingdom of Dressrosa. She is content in her self-imposed isolation, because solitude means safety when you have an ability like hers. Too bad she’s been noticed by the one man who could destroy her hard-won way of life. Mending broken toys seemed an act of mercy. Now Saffron can only hope the king of Dressrosa will show her the same. (Doflamingo/OC. Unhealthy relationship. Doffy corrupts. This is not a redemption story.)

TAGS & WARNINGS

PAIRINGS: Doflamingo x OC

RATING: E[xplicit]

WORD COUNT: Chapter 12 is 8.3k

GENRE: Dark Romance, Drama

FANDOM: One Piece

CHARACTERS: Donquixote Doflamingo, Original Characters, Baby 5, Monet, Diamante, Thunder Soldier

TAGS & WARNINGS: Doflamingo is his own warning, coercion, manipulation,

CHAPTER 12 - Excerpt

Saffron woke to a basket of food on her doorstep. A layer of red and white gingham covered simple fare: bread and cheese, smoked fish wrapped in wax paper, and a jar of cherry preserves. She had no doubt who’d sent her the modest basket. Some toy or another had come before Dressrosa’s curfew lifted to pay Ms. Mend-It for past services rendered. Food was expected payment from the toys. So was food of this type. It was food she’d eaten her entire life — common food. Typical food. Mundane food, as plain as it was satiating. And normally Saffron would be happy to receive it, to take it gratefully into her home to sustain her until her next job, without a second thought.

That morning, she picked up the basket and placed it on her hip. Gloved fingers flipped the gingham back, gold-on-silver eyes contemplating the food for a moment before she returned indoors. Inside, she looked around, pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed.

“Not exactly a normal day though, is it?” Saffron muttered.

There was food everywhere: sweet breads and fruit heaped in baskets, icebox packed to the brim with meats and soft cheeses, and a crate of vegetables with skin so perfect and shiny she could see her face reflected in the side of a tomato. A cake studded with glazed strawberries under a glass dome sat on her workbench amid her tools like a misplaced crown. The berries glimmered like gems, expensive and mouthwatering, frosting as white and pure as fresh snow.

“How am I supposed to finish all of this before it goes bad?” Saffron said to herself. She held the basket out before her like like it might bite. “And what do I do with this?”

Unlike the fresh vegetables, gorgeous cake and ripe fruit, at least the cherry preserves and smoked fish from the toys would keep for a while. But with so much food from the palace, she didn’t exactly need this basket to sustain herself. Could she give it away to someone? She found herself wondering if Baby 5 might like to come over for a tea party. But at the very least, she’d have to tell the toys to focus on non-food items as payment for the time being.

Provided any of them intended to pay her for her services in the next week or two, that is. She never quite knew when one would show up to deliver payment. The toys had...complicated schedules, to put it mildly.

That morning, as the sun rose higher and the light in her converted barn began to brighten, Saffron stared at the toys’ basket while eating a slice of the soft, sweet bread the king had given her. She was due back at the palace later that morning, and many mornings thereafter. She’d need to tell the toys her schedule so they didn’t come calling while she was away. Saffron did not normally spend quite so much time away from home; the toys would be confused to find her home empty so many days of the week. She’d been forced to skip her most recent Tuesday and Friday trips to town, too, leaving the toys none the wiser to her new routine.

Yes, she decided as she finished the bread and dusted her fingers on a handkerchief. At her next opportunity, she would take the trip into town and sit in the square to make herself available for the toys, as was her custom. She also had not visited her favored craftsmen for a supply run recently. As soon as she could, Saffron resolved to do both.

Not that she knew when she would next have a chance. Her schedule at the palace was packed to the gills. Perhaps the king would let her negotiate a day’s respite? She needed time to perform her normal Ms. Mend-It work, after all. King Doflamingo couldn’t realistically expect her to simply abandon her routine to fit his schedule, could he?

Looking at the gigantic couch in the corner did not give her much hope, sadly.

But it was no matter. Her toy-mending and other odd jobs could all wait. It wasn’t as if she was in some great need of additional work. The food spread throughout her home was evidence of how well King Doflamingo paid her, and this was just the leftovers from a lunch she’d eyed a bit too obviously. The lavish cake and expensive fruits were just a token from his coffers, and little more. So was the sumptuous rope of pearls concealed in a box beneath her bed. The actual payment he’d grant her was much, much greater — great enough that her mending work no longer represented such a dire need. Before, Saffron had needed to mend as much as she could to afford to live. But now that Saffron was in bed with a king —

Her cheeks colored at the metaphor. She was in business with the king, she mentally amended. And that meant her need to repair toys had diminished. Their need for her, conversely, remained the same. The toys would suffer without her helping, golden hands to repair them, but...

She looked at the food in the basket. The food on the tables. The cake like a crown on her workbench.

...but much as they needed her, she didn’t exactly need them. Not anymore. It wasn’t like she’d need their help to make ends meet after the king gave her her payment. Even more-so once word of her abilities spread through high society. Tending to the toys now that she had connections would be more like...charity work.

Charity. She’d never been in a position to provide it. She’d taken whatever repayment the toys could scrounge up for her, compensation not limited to money, but her work was never free. Now, though, she may never need to work again. It was difficult to imagine a life luxurious enough for charity.

But isn’t that what the toys had given her when she first arrived, friendless and destitute, in Dressrosa? And didn’t that mean she was obligated to repay them in kind?

Saffron shivered. She took a loaf of hearty grain from the toys’ basket and smeared it with the cherry preserves. Closing her eyes, she ate in slow bites, letting the tart cherry and coarse bread soothe her palate with simple flavors and familiar comfort.

But she was still hungry after she finished, so she smeared a slice of the king’s soft, white bread with churned butter and whipped honey, topping it all with shavings of pear and ribbons of thinly sliced prosciutto, salty and sweet blending beautifully on the tongue.

Saffron was no longer hungry.

KEEP READING ON AO3

[countrymusiclover]

Ch 36 - The Night King

Part 37

Fire OF A Stark

@dragonixfrye

The boat rocked softly while I stared out the tiny window seeing no sight of land for miles. Cersei had freaked out when she had received her daughter’s necklace from Dorn. So she demanded that Jaime go and return her home to safety. “I don’t understand why you thought you needed to come with me, Lynesse.”

Jaime was wearing his leather light golden tunic and trousers. He also had his sword attached to his hip with him leaning against the wall. “I couldn’t remain in King's Landing. Your sister has been picking off my family one by one since we got there.”

“Yes but this family and my family have been enemies for years.” He pointed out to me with the shrug of his shoulders.

Tucking my hair behind my ear I sighed knowing he might not like my answer. The Lannister family didn’t have many actually any allies. The lion would always pay their debts. But every house in the seven kingdoms was just really afraid of his father Tywin. “Jaime, I hate to admit this. But I don’t think you have any people who would willingly go to war.”

“I just hope she is alright…” He mumbled under his breath where I could hear the concern in his tone.

He didn’t talk about the three kids he had with Cersei. But I didn’t really know what to expect from him. He was normally closed off around everyone. “You are really worried about her aren’t you. I don’t mean to make you upset but have you ever considered them your children?”

“Cersei wouldn’t even let me hold them. She said that I wasn’t their father, so no. The only chance of me navigating children of my own is with you.” The former member of the Kingsguard told me.

Getting to my feet I moved over where I was now sitting beside him on the same crate where his green eyes met mine. “Well hopefully if we have children together she will see that you are going to be a great father.”

“You will be a good mother…at least I believe so.” He mumbled wrapping his arm around my shoulder tugging me into his embrace hiding a hidden smile while he stared down at me.

Standing in front of the window I could hear Joanna flying through the skies of the northern grounds. We had been preparing for the days to come when the army of the white walker dead would come to try and kill us all. Footsteps came around the corner where I glanced over my shoulder seeing Jaime carrying a sword in his hand. “Lynesse, I thought you would want to fight with one of your brother's swords.”

“I thought the Freys destroyed all of Robb’s stuff. Where did you find it?” I asked, stepping up eyeing the sword. Taking it from his hand I pulled it out of the holder holding the blade out in front of me.

I recognized the sword very clearly. It was the sword he always used during every battle when we were fighting against the Lannisters. But I could have sworn that the sword was gone. The Freys had cut Catelyn’s throat and threw her in the river. They had attached Grey Wind's head on top of Robb’s body. “My father had given me a sword that was created from Ned’s sword. He also said that they had picked it up from his body. I managed to keep it hidden with Bronn for the time being.”

“Thank you….if you’re going to say I should stay in the crypt with the others go ahead and try. But you already know my answer.” I sent him a glare putting the sword back in its holder placing the weapon on my hip letting it swing a little.

Jaime leans against the wall crossing his arms over his chest staring at me softly. “Rhaenyra is a baby, Lynesse. So I will always say that I want to keep you safe and sound. You’re right though I know you will probably find a way to escape and join the fight anyway…we should go the others are gathered up.”

“The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls...Getting to him may be our best chance.” Jon had all of our best fighters and leaders gathered around the table and we had a battle plan laid out.

Jaime shook his head with me standing at his side holding Rhaenyra in my arms. “If that's true, he'll never expose himself.”

Bran spoke up, making everyone turn in his direction. “Yes, he will. He'll come for me. He's tried before, many times, with many Three-Eyed Ravens.”

“Why? What does he want to kill us all?” I questioned my young brother.

“An endless night. He wants to erase this world, and I am its memory.” He responded back.

Sam a friend that Jon had made during his time of the night's watch. “That's what death is, isn't it? Forgetting. Being forgotten. If we forget where we've been and what we've done, we're not men anymore. Just animals.Your memories don't come from books. Your stories aren't just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I'd start with you.”

Jon pointed at the map. “We'll put you in the crypt where it's safest.”

Bran cut him off. “No. We need to lure him into the open before his army destroys us all. I'll wait for him in the Godswood.”

Sansa asked, not liking the plan. “You want us to use you as bait?”

“We're not leaving you alone out there.” I barked, not agreeing with the idea alongside Arya.

Theon stepped up where I was tempted to glare at him. “He won't be. I'll stay with him. With the Ironborn. I took this castle from you. Let me defend you now.”

“We'll hold off the rest of them for as long as we can.” Ser Davos muttered.

Tyrion finally spoke up trying to convince his dragon queen otherwise. “When the time comes, Ser Davos and I will be on the walls, to give you the signal to light the trench.”

“Ser Davos is perfectly capable of waving a torch on his own. You'll be in the crypt.” She declares back at him.

The youngest lion doesn’t agree with her. “Your Grace, I have fought before, I can do it again.

Alongside the men and women risking their lives.”

“There are thousands of them and only one of you. You can't fight as well as they can, but you can think better than any of them. You're here because of your mind. If we survive, I'll need it.” Dany explained to him and she did have a point. He knew how the game was played unlike half of us in this room.

“The dragons should give us an edge in the field.” Davos nods at me and Dany seeing that we now had three dragons on our side.

“If they're in the field, they're not protecting Bran. We need to be near him. Not too near, or the Night King won't come. But close enough to pursue him when he does.” Jon instructed me knowing I would probably listen to him.

Arya turned back to her brother Bran curious. “Dragonfire will stop him?”

“I don't know. No one's ever tried.” He shrugged his shoulders where everyone in the room fell silent.

Meeting Dany's gaze she could read my espressos when I declared to our group knowing that we had broken enough things that seemed impossible in this world. "We thought most of the tall tales weren't true. And they have all been proven true. So let’s just hit him with everything we've got and make sure the living win."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[primalsouls]

bag of sweets

pairing: arataki itto x m!reader

theme(s): fluff

warning(s): none

notes: might be rush and ick lol it's been a while since i wrote something, especially when I've never wrote about itto before so he may be a bit ooc lol but i just really love him as much as i love albedo and xiao（˶′◡‵˶）im trying every day and every chance i get until his banner ends to get him ❤️ anyways, hope you all enjoy! thank you for reading! i appreciate every comment, reblog, and like, tysm! 💓

꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷

"C'mon, (sibling's name), you gotta step up your game, bro!" Itto shouted with a smug grin in his face as he posed victorious in front of the teen from the other side of the large crate. On the surface of the crate were two beetles facing one another. The bigger one was on its back while the small creature stood in its place in front of the triumphant Itto. The young teen rolled their eyes as they collected their beetle, letting out a huff at the loss they gained. "Aww, don't pout, (sibling's nickname), you'll get to win next time." taunted Itto as he picked up his own insect, setting him on his shoulder. 

"'m not pouting. You just won this round because my beetle wasn't in its best shape!" (sibling's name) said with a glare thrown at the oni, gritting their teeth as they put their beetle back into his cozy cage. "You just got lucky, old man." 

Itto gasped at the last words, hand on his chest. "Why you little—!" Letting out a scoff, the oni crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not that old, kid! And it wasn't luck! The rounds are finally turning in my favors." Itto bragged, grinning when the teen let out another huff. They glanced down at the hand extended towards them, a brow raised in question. "Pay up, little one. I won fair and square." 

(Sibling's name) grumbled under their breath as they reached into the pocket of their shorts and pulled out a small bag of sweets from it. "Fair and square my ass." They muttered to themselves, placing the bag in Itto's hands. 

"Taking candy from a kid, again, Itto?" A voice cut through. Both heads turned to the owner of the voice. At the sight of them, Itto couldn't help the bright smile that crossed his face as he turned to face the other completely, forgetting about the bag of sweets he had won. (Sibling's name) hummed in greetings at their brother. "If you want sweets, you can come to me, you know." He said, arms crossed over his torso lazily.

"(Name)! You're here!" Itto said, running up to his boyfriend with a bounce in his steps. "What fun would that be! I mean, look! I finally beat your little sib!" The oni pointed at the teen while keeping his gaze on his boyfriend. "Which means I get their bag of sweets filled with your delicious treats!" He grinned, giving (Name) a firm nod at his logic. The teen shook their head as they placed their hand over their face at Itto's statements. "Like, c'mon, I won it fair and square, even though I could've gone to you… But still, I won." Itto shrugged, looking back over at his boyfriend who let out a soft laugh with a shake of his head.

"Wouldn't it be better to get a bag of sweets from me personally, though?" (Name) tilted his head as he asked Itto the question, watching him with an amusing smile.

Itto pouted, folding his arms once more. "I guess it would be better getting it from you…"

"They'll be fresh and ready, too. Tastier even." The young man said, walking over to Itto and took his face into his hands, cupping his cheeks. "So, no more betting (Sibling's name) on their own bags, okay. I know you want to win against them, but bet on something else… That doesn't involve taking any treats from any kids." He added, chuckling at the pout that continued to grow as Itto nodded along. 

Letting out a huff, Itto turned to the teen. "Well, kid, guess you can keep your bag. I'm gonna get mine hot and ready! Even more tastier than yours! Aha! Once again, Itto is winning." The tall oni bragged. He turned to his boyfriend and took his hand. "C'mon, baby, I really wanna get my hands on your treats! My mouth is watering at the thought of a dango!" He stated, already pulling (Name) back towards the house. 

(Sibling's name) watched their brother and the oni head inside the house from a distance, a deadpan look on their face. Rubbing the bridge of their nose, they turned back to the beetle in its cage, lifting it up to meet eye to eye. "Next time, just go straight to Itto and bite him on the nose… It's that too mean? No? Yeah, thought so..." With a shrug, the teen headed home as well. They closed the door once they were inside, hearing Itto continued to brag about his victory against them to (Name) in the kitchen. From their place in the entrance, they saw Itto place a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek, thanking him for going out of his way to make him his own bag of sweets. (Sibling's name) shook their head, a faint smile on their face as they walked to their bedroom, wanting to leave the lovebirds on their own.

[velvetcloxds]

QUIET CORRIDORS | R.L

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 0.7k

warnings: angsty, loss of a pet

summary: going home from the vet without your fluffy baby just doesn't feel right, you and remus just don't know what you're supposed to do

a/n: I'm dedicating this one to my sweet sweet angel, hope you're causing one hell of a ruckus up there

You had no idea what to do, fingers brushing over the faded hello kitty pattern of the decade-old baby blanket that she insisted on sleeping on no matter how many new ones you bought, it was pressed against your chest, the smell of her lingering around you, the last bit of her fleeting away. Remus was hovering beside you, one hand resting motionless on your back while the other gripped onto the empty carrier crate, he wanted to do something, say something, but nothing felt right, nothing felt enough.

Your eyes tried to take everything in all at once, the spot on the sofa which was covered in her hair, the line of pink scrunchies that littered the path from your bedroom- you’d been too busy to pick them up all week and too busy to notice she hadn’t been stealing new ones, the bowl of food filled to the brim at the kitchen door- you felt silly for not noticing that she didn’t eat that morning.

“Darling,” Remus began, clearing his throat, he was trying to be strong for you, for himself, but his voice was hoarse, broken like your own. “Is there something that I can do?” you breathed out softly, knowing that this hit him just as hard as it hit you, but he was always putting you first, always trying to realign the world after it shifted beneath your feet- though you feared he wouldn’t be able to do that this time.

“I’m not ready,” you admitted, closing your eyes as you tried to remember the last time she was running up and down the corridors, calling for you, letting you know she was awake and she’d very much insist that you woke up too- you could hear her little voice so clearly, it was ingrained into your mind, at least you hoped it was, because how were you to know that the last time would be the last time, how were you supposed to know the memory would be all that was left. “I’m not ready to face it yet, Rem,” you clarified and shook your head, sure that if you were standing with anyone else they’d surely think you silly, being this lost, this broken over something that seemed so small in the grand scheme of things- but she was family, she was your baby, your darling, your little angel and it was entirely unfair that her time with you was so short.

“Neither am I,” he concurred and his movements were almost lethargic as he sat the crate on the wooden floor, even more careful as he pulled you into his side, lips brushing over your temple as you sniffed lightly, allowing him some room to touch the little blanket as well, hoping it would mean as much to him as it did to you and it did, of course, it did. “We can take a minute,” he suggested, not being literal, because heaven knew the pair of you would need more than a minute before being able to face this day and everything that it would mean.

“Gosh, it’s too quiet,” you sighed, wiping at your eyes in frustration, sinking into his chest as he nodded, grip so strong it could shatter you, yet it was the only thing keeping you from shattering in the first place.

“I know,” he agreed, and you felt a single tear spill onto your face from his own. “She’d absolutely hate that,” he scoffed, managing to prompt a soft laugh from the both of you, a brisk, fleeting moment where the sadness simmered, but it returned, begging you to drown in it and you would, for now at least- until the moment passed, until the memories were enough, until the quiet corridors stopped crawling with her absent shadows.

harry potter taglist: @mirclealignr @scarlet-prey @saintlike78 @cupids-crystals @sheraayasher @oliverwoodmarrymepls @natashxromanovf @moonbcrry

[rrickgrrimes8]

hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞

Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader

thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.

warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)

sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard. 

When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment. 

They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him. 

That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum. 

“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears. 

Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.” 

“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body. 

“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?” 

Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!” 

“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.” 

“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled. 

Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.” 

“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.” 

“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”

The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had. 

"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting. 

"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck. 

"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you." 

"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen." 

The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?" 

"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began. 

"How was it?" She inquired. 

"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed. 

"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled. 

"Why two kisses, y/n?" 

"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead. 

"Its home bubs with an e on the end." 

"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again. 

"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van. 

"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here. 

"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too. 

"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug. 

"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada." 

"I love you too, baby girl."

~

The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect. 

She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father. 

Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers. 

Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help." 

The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you." 

"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps. 

"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head. 

"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group. 

"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs. 

The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me." 

"I promise, dada." 

Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird. 

At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it. 

Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone. 

After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical. 

Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for. 

Glenn was next. 

She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her. 

The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt. 

He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma. 

After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her. 

So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead. 

She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it. 

Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth. 

"I-i can't," She sobbed. 

"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop. 

"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them. 

"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump." 

"I love you, Daryl." 

"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes. 

"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well." 

Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground. 

"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame. 

"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.

It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father. 

The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan. 

It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories. 

The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick. 

Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her. 

She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."

[dreamrecorder]

Family in the Inn

Wherein Verr adopts Xiao and how he got you as a sibling.

The idea was from here ksks---- also this is quite long | Part hc part trad, Im not even sure anymore hahaha it’s just- siblings are a wholesome concept and there are so much things to add i dont know what to do haha Enjoy~

After a night full of battles against the demons lurking Liyue, Xiao struggled to keep the corruption in him at bay. He was losing his mind in pain as the screams continue to persist both in volume and their harsh words. He needed to get away from here. From the bodies that was slain by his very hands. He wanted to go away to somewhere safe.

It was an unconscious thought- out of nowhere, Xiao just teleported himself into whatever place he thought was safe and crash landed into familiar wooden floorboards.

The crash was loud- enough for visitors of the inn to rouse awake. Luckily, Verr and Huai'an were quick to reassure them that they are safe.

Verr Goldet was first to arrive in their balcony and what she saw tore her heart.

As if a mother to a child, she quickly rushed to the adeptus whose body writhed to himself while shaking violently. Verr didn't care about the malicious energy emanating from Xiao- she just went to his side and cradled what she can of him.

Normally, Xiao would instantly get away from any form of touch, but he was too weak and too tired- so he let her be.

Verr began singing lullabies as she wiped his tears away, hoping to ease his pain even just for tonight.

The lullabies- they were soothing. Moments passed, his shaking lessened along with the dark mist covering his body. Xiao merely focused on Verr's lullabies- clinging to the innocent words the lullabies carry as if hoping that they would take all his pain away.

And they really did- the way the she cradled him was very reminiscent of how a mother cradled a child. She didn't care if her clothes were now damp from his tears. She kept singing until finally, Xiao finally slept with a genuine peace gracing his face.

And that is how Xiao finds himself seeing Verr as a mother and how Verr finds Xiao as a son. Always know that this inn will be your home with someone who cares for you.

~~~

The following day came and Xiao finds himself in his room, waking up to the sunlight filtering from the window. By the bedside, the innkeeper sleeps with arms crossed. As if waiting for him to wake up. Even if he sees Verr now in a new light, Xiao still decides that he does not want to be seen for now. But before leaving, he mutters a sincere thank you.

When they cross paths in the inn, there was no closure whatsoever about what happened to him that night. But before he leaves to protect Liyue again, Verr called him. "Xiao,"

The adeptus stopped in his tracks and faced her.

"Stay safe. If you get hurt don't hesitate to come home alright?"

Ah. The words of a mother to a child. But Xiao is no child and not certainly a child to a mortal- but still, Xiao finds him saying, "I'll be back."

This simple pattern went on for years. While they never called each other 'mother' or 'son' verbally, the relationship is there. Whenever Xiao leaves, Verr always reminds him to take care. And when he comes back, she never fails to greet him, "Welcome home!"

Xiao felt loved.

As small thanks, there are times Xiao would help in the inn aside from protecting his home from monsters and hoarders.

Like- helping Huai'an with heavy crates of materials and teaching Yanxiao Sweet Dreams (the inn got a boost from his recipe). He'll help as long as it doesn't involve interacting with other mortals aside from the inn staff.

Then the time came when Verr announced she was pregnant.

Xiao's initial reaction... was to leave. He didn't want the baby near him- no, scratch that. He didn't want to be near the baby or else it would catch his karmic energy if ever he loses control. The baby deserved a life free from any danger- free from him.

And Verr was having none of that!!!

She noticed the lessening appearances of the Yaksha within the inn ever since her announcement, so he waited for her son at the balcony.

"The evening cold will not do you well and the baby." He said as he materialized a few feet away from her.

Verr noticed his walls up again and her mother instincts told her that something's up. So with careful prying, she finally learned his reasons of him staying away. But with a gentle smile, she reassured him that he can never do wrong or harm to the baby

Carefully, she let out a small joke, "Who knows, I bet the baby will be even safer having a brother like you."

Oh how she doesn't know how her joke struck a chord in Xiao's heart. The adeptus vowed to protect you at all cost.

Throughout his mother's pregnancy, Xiao became very protective of her. And that also means being careful of himself whenever he fights in order to avoid his karma leaking out. There was this one time even, Verr convinced Xiao for him to hold her swollen belly and feel the baby. The moment he felt that small kick! His heart burst feelings he didn't think he would ever feel! Pure joy and love for another.

The day came when you finally entered the world with strong fits of cries- as if demanding to be brought back to the darkness you were familiar with in your mother's womb!!!

Despite accepting the fact he now has a little sibling, he doesn't show up to greet you to the world. Perhaps he was still in denial? That all of this was just some dream that he's desperate mind conjured up? But still his heart beckoned him to go to you.

With swift and silent movements, Xiao entered the sleeping couple's bedroom and there he saw that small bundle of you. The way his heart welled up in pure happiness. The mere sight of you just confirms that all this is real and not a dream.

Awkward, but careful and determined, Xiao lifted your small form to his arms and against his chest.

The way you instantly cuddled into him with hand accidentally tugging his hair just sent Xiao into a pure moment of peace.

~~~

During your infant years, Xiao would always spend his time with you during the night by sneaking into the couple’s bedroom and just simply holding you close. Verr, having noticed his nightly visits to you, have even prepared your bottles of milk in case you were hungry during his visits.

The first time you cried while he was holding you, surprisingly, Xiao did not panic. He knew you were hungry and he silently thanked himself for observing mortal mothers back then. He simply took the bottle Verr had prepared and gave it to you as he began singing the very same lullaby his mother had sang to him. That’s how soft Xiao is for you.

Although there are other times when the inn was very bustling with business to the point of having Verr and her husband’s hands tied. These are the times Xiao will then just grab you from your mother’s hold with no word and take you to the balcony. With a prepared bottle in hand at that. Verr would always smile at Xiao’s retreating back.

Innocence, it’s such a pure thing honestly. While playing with you, you somehow grabbed his mask. Xiao was about to take it, in fear you would cry at its hideous look. But you never cried or whimpered. You simply toyed with it by putting it on your face or by playing its horns. Perhaps even hideous things can still have a chance at love?

Your first word came while Xiao was holding you with Verr close by preparing your baby meal and it was gēgē. You kept babbling that word over and over while tugging at his hair so happily and Xiao can only hold you closer as his body shook in silent, happy tears. Verr taught you that word *wink*.

Come toddler years and boy did Xiao’s worry for you intensifies. You were an explorer! The moment you learned how to crawl, you were going to places here and there! You almost gave your brother a heart attack </3!! Especially that time when you were crawling up the stairs on you own!!! Your exploring habits only intensified when you learned how to walk~ To tone down your exploring tendencies- Xiao would take you for small walks where your tiny, little legs can take you. It was a cute sight, the two of you walking hand in hand. You were so small~

Childhood arrived and you became a big bundle of energy. Since you’re not old enough to help with the inn, you often bothered your brother to play with you or walk with you outside. Of course Xiao will always agree with a smile.

Glaze lillies only bloom during the night yes? But oh how Xiao was proven wrong when you approached a wild lily and it instantly bloomed under the sun in your presence. The joy that shone your eyes was so prominent, it was infectious. Because of that glaze lily, that is how the two of you got into your favorite past time, story telling with your brother. 

Also, imagine that sweet moment when you showed him your missing tooth and you both laughed off how you look ridiculous without it. 

His stories were mostly vague, but they never fail to amaze you. Stories about flying cranes, about majestic stags, how Liyue was created by the Geo Archon. But never about the Yaksha, that was a truth for another time.

The time finally came when you were about to visit Liyue for the first time. It was for a physical check-up with Dr. Baizhu, Verr said. Normally, you and your mother should have left the inn a day ago because of the distance but Xiao insisted that he teleport the three of you to Liyue. That was the first time you disagreed with your brother. “But I want to see the roads and places going there!” Ah, an adventurer at heart.

Xiao crouched down to your level and ruffled your hair saying, “Sure, we can take the carriages on the way home. That way you can see the beauty of Liyue.”

But there was another thing that grabbed your interest. “But, gege, teleport? Are you like the adepti you tell me in your stories? Like they use their magic to go around places to keep us safe?” Then a fantastical idea popped in your head as you eyes shone bright! “Gege, are you an adeptus?!”

Xiao inwardly panicked and he had no words for your excited question. He didn’t expect to have you discover the truth so soon. But lying can bring him nowhere. He took a small glance at his mother, who was smiling at him encouragingly. 

“Yes. I am one, but I will tell you more when you become older okay?” The first statement made you explode excitedly then the second statement made you pout. All in a milisecond. But at the back of your head, you listed this moment to your ‘adult stuff I want to know in the future.’

“Someday, I wanna be a cool adeptus like you!” You exclaimed proudly and Xiao smiled at your aspirations, but prayed with desperation to the Archons to never make that happen ever.

But this does not stop him from showing you his anemo vision. And now, your playtime involved use of his anemo <3

Your energy was basically uncontained when you step foot in the harbor and Xiao’s eyes were only at you. Despite having familial relationships, he still detests humans to a degree, so he glares at anyone suspicious walking on your merry way.

When you arrived Yujeng Terrace after the check-up, everyone was so surprised at how glaze lillies simply bloom at your presence, especially Madame Ping. But she was even more surprised when she saw you running to someone she hasn’t seen for so long. Seeing Xiao lift you up with a smile made Madame Ping’s worries for him ease down. Coming into eye contact, Xiao simply offered her a small bow. You noticed and saw the old lady he was bowing to. You were a respectful child, so even if you had no idea who the lady was, you also gave a small, shy bow to her way.

Since this was a one-day visit, you took your sweet time exploring the harbor with your mother and brother tailing you. You often would point things out that grabbed your interest. Sometimes, you would stop at the sight of a stray cat just for you to crouch down and pet it. You even found a black cat with gold eyes and a white diamond spot on its forehead. You excitedly lifted it to your arms and showed your brother, “It looks just like you, gege!”

On the first half of the travel back home, you marveled at the nature surrounding you. You never left the window side of the carriage you road. And then the latter half came, you were snuffed out like a candle with cat cozy in your arms and you cozy in Xiao’s arms, who was also asleep. Verr had etched this moment into her memory forever. 

A/N: Might add another part? I dont know i am indecisive hahahaha If i do add some, prolly more about how you met Venti and Zhongli and your visit to your mother’s home land, Mondtsadt-- 

[lovelybarnes]

bunny- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mom!natasha romanoff x reader, dad!tony stark x peter parker warnings: i didn’t know how to end this, so bad ending and cursing about: the chronicles of peter parker and y/n romanoff (this is a birthday present for my dearest emma) a/n: so i wanted to do lions. but i figured, why and how would y/n get a lion? so i ditched that idea and i hope that’s okay. also, i have no idea how to take care of bunnies or if you can even foster them? but it’s fine please go along with it

@emmastarz

the little red wagon you’re dragging squeaks, and you gently shush the kennel on top of it, tugging on the blanket that threatens to fall off and reveal what you’re keeping hidden. the soft noises don’t stop, though you can’t blame them with the surprisingly uneven floors of stark industries.

seriously, what’s up with that? isn’t stark a genius billionaire? you think to let him know when you see him next, distracting yourself from the fact that you’re doing something you’re definitely not supposed to. your mother will have your head if she finds out, so you swear to yourself that no one will find out.

you realize your oath isn’t particularly easy to keep, as keeping anything from the avengers is difficult. keeping things from the black widow herself, however, is nearly impossible. the key word is nearly, because her magnificent daughter (aka you) is the exception, even more cunning than her. her who is currently waiting outside your room, making going in there to hide like you planned out of the question.

so, you hide, trying to figure out where you’re supposed to go now that your only feasible plan has been left useless. you’re behind an absurdly large plant, looking at the rooms around you and attempting to remember which one belongs to someone who won’t ask questions.

“what are you doing?” you hear suddenly, flinching and turning with a jump, relieved to only find your boyfriend in front of you, holding a glass of water with a concerned look on his face. “shh!” you demand, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. “don’t make a noise,” you whisper, his eyes growing wide, “are we under attack? my suit is in my room-”

“your room!” you repeat in a relieved whisper, remembering that peter’s room is literally three feet in front of you, inviting and away from the wrath your mother will surely rain upon you. “come on, we have to get to your room, carry this,” you motion to the wagon, “don’t make a sound.”

“why do i have to-” “super strength,” you remind, “for one, and two- if you don’t, my mother will kill me. then you, for being in the same vicinity as me.” peter pauses, a grimace going over his face, surely remembering how terrified he is of your mother, and picks up what you asked without another word, following you into his room as silently as spiderman and a trained spy can.

you lock the door once you’re inside, calling out to friday to soundproof the room and not let anyone in. “what are you doing? what is this? it moved,” peter complains in disgust, putting down the wagon. you roll your eyes, carefully putting the crate down next to it. “it’s nothing. i just need to get to my room so i can keep them there and no one will ever know.”

peter’s eyes bulge out of his head, “them? who is them?” he questions frantically, walking over to the crate, ready to pull the blanket off before you stop him. “the less you know, the better,” you say ominously, patting his wrist in your hand. “what?” he asks, voice squeaky. he backs away and you turn your back on him, heading to his desk to charge your phone, “just, it’s better if you don’t know, because-”

“are these rabbits?” he gasps loudly, making you turn around quickly to see him holding the blanket. you slap lightly at his arm, not that it does much to his enhanced self, “peter!” you whine, “i told you not to look!”

“they’re rabbits! why are you sneaking rabbits around the compound?- jeez, how many of them are in there…” peter trails off, trying to count the tiny wiggly things with his eyes, and failing each time they move. you sigh when he looks back at you with wide, questioning eyes. “i- it’s just-”

the exact reasoning seemed a lot more logical at the animal center where you picked them up half an hour ago, but as it rests on your tongue now, it’s difficult to make something rational out of it. “the animal shelter was at capacity- i- there was really no other option, aren’t avengers supposed to help or something?” you answer, tone questioning by the end of your sentence.

“alright, that’s… not a bad excuse, why are you hiding?” peter points out, looking back at the small kennel filled with sleeping bunnies. “well, it’s not really the first time i’ve done this. you know the dogs we have? candy and star?”

peter nods, “well, i kind of did this with them. it started out with fostering but then we just fell in love and we ended up adopting them, then it happened again with the ducks, and again with a cat, and at one point it became kind of implied that i wasn’t to bring home any more stray animals because we’re kind of stretching it already.”

you panic at the look on peter’s face, and afraid he’ll change his mind about the words he spoke previously, you talk frantically again, “but their mom abandoned them and they needed help, and they’re so cute, look at them,” you urge, opening the cage to pull one out and showing it to peter. his face melts adorably, a small coo escaping his lips against his will. “it’s also just for one or two weeks. a few of them are already promised to go to some families, but they’re still too little, so they just need a place to stay for now.”

“and can you say no to this face?” you ask sarcastically, extending the bunny in your arms closer to peter’s face, then gesturing to the cage with your eyes, “to any of them?”

peter groans, his head slumping forward, “fine,” he gives in, and you cheer a little. “but i take care of them with you,” he requests. you nod, “yes! absolutely!” you grin, going to put the baby back in its kennel before peter stops you, “which means i also get to hold them.”

you laugh, gently placing the bunny in peter’s arms, adoring eyes watching his lips mutter how cute they are.

-

“we’re rabbit parents for two weeks,” he says an hour later, after your mom has moved from your door due to some expert distracting (a mission that came in before you had time to launch your genius plan: peter throwing himself down the stairs “accidentally”). you’ve set up the rabbit living space in your room, having read up enough on them to know what you need. the random unused closet tony insisted on giving you has come in handy, and with a lot of help from the manual he gave you on her, you figured out how to get friday to change the temperature to the necessary one for the babies. you’ve also sworn friday to secrecy, making sure not even tony himself can get the information out of her.

“we are rabbit parents for two weeks,” you agree, playing with a couple of them and watching peter, curls curlier and an easy look on his face. he looks so adorable, you can’t help the kiss you press against his lips. a red blush covers his neck as he kisses you back, giddy smile quirking the edge of his lips up.

-

you’re surprised when, by the next week, no one has found out about yours and peter’s little secret, even more so that no one has been told by peter’s big mouth. he’s coming by a lot more now, his previous rare sleepovers increasing largely. tony and natasha are getting suspicious, and as they watch you and your boyfriend sneak into your room, supposedly inconspicuously, they turn to each other. “is y/n pregnant or something? why has she been acting so weird?” tony asks.

natasha looks at him, “she’s always with your kid whispering and being alone in their rooms. whenever i tell your stupid robot to let me in, she won’t tell me anything. i thought it was state of the art?”

tony huffs in offense, “friday the ai,” he clarifies, earning an intense glare from natasha, “is state of the art, i don’t know what your daughter did to her, but she won’t tell me anything either.” natasha rolls her eyes, small swell of pride fluttering in her chest at your managing to keep stark out of his own technology before remembering what she’s angry at you for.“we need to go in there,” natasha states with finality, walking to your door. “i know, but i don’t want to risk seeing anything potentially scarring,” tony sasses.

the woman ignores him, shoving open your door to find both you and peter nowhere to be seen. she looks around, trying to figure out where you are and what the hell you’re doing.

meanwhile, you and peter are busy babbling at the bunnies, a lot bigger now, to notice the intruders in your room, not even seeing the notification friday sends to your phone. you’ve let your guard down after a week of been inconspicuous, which is stupid and very un-spy like of you. so you suppose you only have yourself to blame when the door to the closet bursts open to “what the hell are you two doing?” and “is it safe to open my eyes?”

[honeyhenry]

A Tiny Valentine

A/N: Another little instalment of the Tiny!AU that I have been writing this month! I hope you all had a lovely valentines or galentines or palentines! Now onto my favourite little family! Please feel free to request some more about this AU or my Syverson AU because both are helping me through this month! 🥰

Warnings: none! just some sweet fluff!

Read Tiny here!

Read Tiny Vol. 2 here!

You’re awoken by the squeaks of a fussy baby, opening your eyes in time to see your husband shush the child cradled in his right arm ever so tenderly. Henry catches you looking from where you laid in the bed and grins, making his way towards you with Will in tow.

“Good morning, and Happy Valentine’s day, Mummy” his deep voice giving you butterflies still after all this time as he leans in to kiss you, 5 week old Will pressed between your chests, a warm safe haven for him as his parents shared their love on the cosy Sunday morning. Sitting up, you cradle Henry’s face in your hand, whispering a treasured valentine sentiment back, before turning your attention to your second, yet no less important valentine.

“Hello baby boy, good morning! Are you wishing me a happy Valentine’s too?”

Will now weighs in at an impressive 2.3kg, and hasn’t left your or Henry’s side in the past month. His tiny frame fits so perfectly into the crook of Henry’s forearm which is much larger than the precious child it helps to support. Somehow he’s managed to fit Will into a new, slightly-too-big onesie decorated with a large heart detailing the words “I Love my Mummy” inside of it.

“Yes, I have fed, burped, dressed, undressed, changed, re-dressed, and soothed him since 6am. He likes his early mornings but we did have a small poo-splosion. It’s been dealt with, and we’ve had a chat, haven't we Will?” Henry addresses the question to his son, who pays him no mind, other than to clench his little fist, making you laugh.

“Here, I’ll take him. I want cuddles from my littlest Valentine.”

“Oh I see how it is...maybe I’ll have to return everything I got you and only give you the gifts from Will.”

You’re about to reply that he needn’t worry, that his Valentines will come later tonight, but your jaw drops as Henry pulls a few bags onto the bed, alongside the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers that must be 10 times the size of Will, and have cost him half the earth.

“Henry!” you gasp, careful to hold Will securely as you shuffle up the bed to see the gifts he has presented to you.

“A couple of the gifts were supposed to be given just before you gave birth but I wanted to wait until now, so you’d still  get them on Valentine’s Day.”

You look at him with utter adoration, tears almost spilling over and you manage to hold it together until-

“Oh no, Henry” you cry out, immediately setting a pit of uncertainty in Henry’s stomach.

“What? Is something wrong? Is Will okay? Is it the flowers?”

You sigh and let a few tears slip out, cuddling Will close, looking down at his sweet innocent face, not wanting to meet Henry’s gaze. It doesn’t do much good, as Will truly is his daddy’s double. 

“I- I didn’t get you anything. I completely forgot, I’m so sorry” you whisper, wishing you could turn back the clock and remember to at least put some of his favourite chocolates or cologne in the shopping cart when you last went out. “Like, not even a card. I’m a rubbish wife.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous. I could’ve sympathised with you until that point but I’m afraid you’re completely wrong. On all counts.” He moves up closer to you on the bed, resting a large hand on your knee while using his other hand to gesture his points.

“First of all, you are not a rubbish wife. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. You are perfect and I really hope that these gifts will be worthy of you wearing them or eating them or just having them exist around you. They cost money, but money doesn’t light a flame compared to what you got me for all my birthdays, valentine’s days and Christmases combined.”

He keeps one hand on your knee, with the other now moving over to hold Will’s whole hand with just the tip of his finger. Wrapping his palm around the familiar pointer finger, you hear the tiniest sigh from your son’s body, feeling utterly relaxed in your arms and holding Henry’s hand.

“But he’s 5 weeks old-”

“He wasn’t even meant to be born until the end of this month, and I would've told you the same thing as I’m telling you now if that was still the case. You grew him and nurtured him and now we get to know him and love him every single day. I can never thank you enough for the gift of our child.”

Resting his forehead to yours, you sit there in that moment, soaking it up in the hopes to carry the weight of the emotions for days and weeks to come. Upon the gift opening, with Henry explaining each gift while Will lay in his arms, you realised that you truly had been spoiled rotten by your boys. Will had “bought” you a framed picture of the constellations in the sky at the exact time and place he was born, as well as a year’s supply of your favourite breastfeeding cookies sitting in a large crate out in the kitchen.

Henry had truly outdone himself, assuring you that the flowers were from him “but Will helped with his floral expertise, obviously.” He had waited to give you the last gift deliberately - a long, smooth rectangular box wrapped very delicately. Opening it, you see a note inside, setting the box down as you read aloud.

“January is represented by the garnet stone. Derived from the word “seed”, this fruitful gem keeps the wearer safe. And May is represented by the emerald to mean “rebirth”...and gives the wearer foresight and good fortune...what does that....oh Henry!”

You lift the box and remove the protective paper to reveal the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. There are small diamonds detailing it and allowing it to glint in the light, alongside a small cut of garnet and emerald woven together in parts.

“Happy Valentine’s darling. It’s mine and Junior’s birthstones. Had to send it back when he came early to swap February for January. And more can be added...whenever they need be.”

You knew the tears would start again, and before they can mark tracks on your cheeks, you leap onto Henry to kiss him with passion, careful not to knock Will in the process.

“You are the most loving, thoughtful, wonderful person in the whole world. It’s beautiful and so personal...and I know it couldn’t possibly compare, but how about some Valentine’s pancakes? We can show Will how to properly celebrate.” 

The three of you head to the kitchen soon after, cooking up a storm and dancing to the love songs playing on the radio. You even have the opportunity to feed Will again while Henry expertly flips the pancakes in the pan. He plates them up, drizzles them with your favourite topping, and feeds you while you feed Will.

One thing your son will never have to question, is the love that his parents have for each other.

taglist: @ohmygoodie​ @michelehansel​ @la-cey​ @palaiasaurus64​ @sassy-pelican​ 

request / feedback etc. here!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Northern Exposure | Bucky // End

❄ PART 4 OF THE MINI-SERIES ❄

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: non consent sex and rape (series); violence, creepiness on part of our boys, predatory behaviour, Bucky’s an asshole, they’re all too lonely and too desperate, mistaken identity, spanking, binding, death, mentions of brainwashing.

This is dark! fic and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, A Bad Time x Reader

Series Synopsis: You’re a nature photographer stationed up north but the arctic isolation comes to an unexpected and unpleasant end.

Note: I'm gonna be away dealing with lots of personal issues but will see yall when I get back and look forward to it.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You were dazed as Steve pulled the tee shirt back over your head. He sat you in the same chair he made you fuck him on and you stared at your palms as he moved around. Your body didn’t feel like yours. You bent and unbent your fingers as you tried to feel anything but the buzzing rawness in your core. A plate clinked loudly on the table and you raised your head.

Steve pulled up a chair around the side of the table, his knee almost against yours as he sat, “you have to eat.”

You blinked at the dry looking chicken breast on yellow rice with overcooked corn and peas. He took the fork and you reached for it and he quickly batted down your hand.

Confused, you parted your lips and he cut into the chicken. He scooped up a forkful and held it out to you carefully, his hand cupped under it to catch any spills.

“It’s hot, blow on it,” he said.

You felt hollow and your brain could only think of the food as the scent made your stomach clench hungrily. You blew carefully on the fork and let him slide it into your mouth. He repeated it, again and again. Each bite was easier and despite the odd texture of the food, you didn’t mind the taste.

When the plate was cleared, he set down the fork and unfolded the paper napkin. He wiped your mouth, his finger tickled your bottom lip and he hummed. He handed you the bottle of water and leaned back as he watched you drink.

“You gotta keep your energy up,” he said, “it’s our fault. We’ve neglected you.”

You put the bottle down and shrunk in on yourself. It was all fucked. The more you sat there across from this man, the more your chest felt as if it would collapse. You lowered your head again and traced the line of your palm with your thumb.

“You need to sleep, I know Sam didn’t let you do much of that,” he said, “admittedly, I was selfishly impatient,” he stood and you watched him cross the room. He took the throw from over the back of the couch and looked over his shoulder at you, “come on. You should at least try.”

You didn’t move. You hung your head and swayed slightly. Everything around you was blurry, the air felt fuzzy, and your skin pricked with terror.

“Sweetheart--”

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed, “I’m not… not that. What you’re doing--”

“Over here right now,” his tone was stern and unyielding, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You clenched your jaw and glanced over at him. His hand was on his hip as his eyes bore into you and the vein in his forehead made you flinch. There was a tenuous wire wound tight between his good side and his bad side.

You rose and ambled over to him clumsily. Your thighs rubbed together painfully and the effort made your pelvis ache. He grabbed your shoulder and guided you down onto the couch. He threw the blanket over you and tucked in the sides, his hands crawled over it and he felt your curves through the warm layer.

“Oh…” he retracted his hand and stood straight as he poked his tongue out and watched you, “I…” 

You turned onto your side and tried to ignore him. Sleep might be your only escape from that hell.

“Are you…” he hesitated, “I came in you. Are you on… something?”

You sniffed and rolled so that your back was to him. You whimpered as your thigh hit each other and pulled the blanket to your chin. You wanted to vomit up all the food he’d just fed you.

“I need to know,” he touched your shoulder, “if you’re not--”

“I have an implant…” you mumbled.

“Implant?” he repeated.

You stared at the back of the couch. Was he really that stupid?

“They put it in your arm. It’s good for a couple years,” you shrugged, “don’t worry, you’ll only be hurting me.”

You heard him swallow. He was quiet and his footsteps trailed softly away from you.

“I’m taking care of you,” he said, “you’re lucky I am because Sam doesn’t give a shit and Bucky would sooner throw you out in the snow.”

You didn’t answer. You covered your head with the blanket and closed your eyes. You were so exhausted, so sore, so worn out that you could only think of sleep. You wanted to forget about the man behind you and the two others wandering out on the tundra. You wanted to pretend for the little time you could that everything was normal.

❄

The door woke you and sent you back into a spin. You huddled under the blanket and nestled further into the cushions as the boots clomped and a heavy dragging scratched the floor. You focused on keeping even breaths as the lock buzzed back into place.

“This was at her door,” a knock on wood followed Bucky’s voice and you could guess that your weakly crate of groceries had arrived, “it’s gonna be a while before anyone knows she’s gone.”

“Shh,” Sam hushed.

“She’s awake,” Bucky spat back, “I can hear her heart going.”

You cringed and slowly sat up. You looked over at the men as Steve helped Bucky pull the lid off the crate. Sam smiled at you and unzipped his jacket, “how are you doing, baby?”

“Fine,” you murmured and pushed yourself into the corner of the couch and folded yourself up beneath the blanket.

“Real milk,” Bucky declared as he pulled out the carton, “and bread.”

“Who brings all this?” Steve asked as Sam unlaced his boots, watching you as he impatiently undressed.

“The depot,” you answered.

“The depot? And they know you’re up here?”

“They get my money and they bring up what I order,” you grumbled, “I doubt they care as long as they’re paid.”

Steve nodded and shared a look with Bucky. Sam rounded the couch and sat beside you, he played with the edge of the blanket as you kept as far from him as you could. The other two kept sorting through the haul.

“Go back tomorrow, get the radio,” Steve said, “and we’ll have her place another order.”

Bucky looked at him quizzically then continued reading the side of a can of chili, “and why should I do that?”

“We’ll have her check in with her boss, tell them she’s safe,” Steve said, “she is, really.”

“No,” you said, “I won’t, I’ll--”

The can barely missed you and bounced off the wall. You looked behind you and eyed the dent as you pushed yourself up on the arm and the blanket fell away from you. You shook as you faced Bucky.

“You can’t trust her,” he said as he turned back to Steve, “you both know that and now you want to give her a radio--”

“Baby,” Sam grabbed your ankle and drew you back down onto the cushion. His arm snaked around you and he caressed your cheek as he held you to him, “it’s okay.” He tensed and peered over his shoulder, “do it again, jackass, and it’ll be thrown right back at you.”

A low growl followed and then the rustle of the groceries. A silence pervaded the bunker and made you shiver. Sam lifted the blanket over you again and held you tighter. He rocked you as he placed your head on his chest.

“You just gonna let her sit around on the couch all day? Lay on her back all night as we’re out there--”

“She’ll cook,” Steve asserted, “won’t you, sweetheart?”

You didn’t respond as you listened to Sam’s heartbeat and inhaled his scent. His touch made your skin crawl but his strength made you stay.

“I can take care of myself,” Bucky insisted.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?” Sam snarled.

“You know what the problem is,” Bucky retorted, “you fuckin’ know.”

“Buck,” Steve warned.

“He gave me bad intel,” Bucky’s boots hammered towards you, “just so he could have his little plaything.”

Sam slid you away from him and stood to stand chest to chest with his fellow agent. You gaped up at them as Steve came close and put his hands on their shoulders.

“Enough,” Steve warned.

“No, I could have killed her because this asshole lied, I could--”

“And you offered to kill her anyway,” Sam pushed Bucky, “so what the fuck’s the problem?”

“This is a mission, not a vacation,” Bucky sneered, “Hydra is still out there, Ursa is probably laughing at us right now--”

“It’s about the mission?” Sam challenged, “really? You didn’t care three days ago when you tried to run back Stateside.”

“Shut up,” Bucky snapped.

“You shut up, man,” they shoved each other at the same time and Steve got between them.

“Hey, both of you,” he pointed at them and looked from one to the other, “stop. Right now.”

Bucky roiled and Sam glared back at them as the other man barely kept them apart. One wrong move and it would be a full blown fight.

“You know what will happen, Steve,” Bucky’s voice cracked, “you know I can’t control it.”

“Only if you keep holding back,” Steve lowered his voice and waved off Sam, “she’s good, she’s obedient.”

“She’s scared,” Bucky said, “and that means she’s unpredictable.”

“Then help us, help us train her,” Steve said.

“No, I can’t,” Bucky shook his head, “not-- last time--”

“We’re here now, we won’t let it happen again,” Steve coaxed as Sam retreated, “but you keep doing this and it will.”

You stood slowly as Sam went to the crate and reached in. He took out a chocolate bar and smiled. You crept along the wall and a floor board gave away your movement. All three men looked over at you.

“I… need the bathroom,” you breathed.

Steve nodded and waved you on. He turned back to Bucky and grabbed his arm. He lowered his voice as the latter’s blue eyes peeked over at you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but the way Bucky stared made you tremble. You scurried away and hid inside the bathroom.

You inhaled as your nerves bounced off each other. You listened through the door and your blood chilled.

“It’s different,” Bucky said, “if it was Ursa, she’d deserve it.”

“You won’t hurt her, that’s not you,” Steve argued, “she’s a good girl.”

“He doesn’t care,” Bucky gritted, “he doesn’t listen.”

“Bucky…” Steve sighed, “there’s no him, only you.”

“I can’t,” Bucky said, “not yet.”

❄

Two more days, you thought it was only two. They passed slowly but in a blur. Your time was marked by the little chores given to you by Steve; you cooked the meals, blending your farmer’s haul and their military dry freeze rations and you tidied up to keep yourself busy and try to evade them. It didn’t matter, your work could wait until they had their pleasure.

A routine was put in place. You ate with the men and when they left in the morning, you slept until the afternoon, then you got up and cleaned and cooked. When they returned, you ate again and after supper, Sam or Steve took you into the bedroom. By the time the others retired, you were settled under the arm of your respective tormenter.

The fourth morning was particularly chilly. Sam and Steve woke up early and whispered in the dark. That night, you’d been trapped against Steve’s hot body but despite that, Sam bent to kiss your cheek. Steve placed a folded shirt in the empty spot beside you.

“You can wear that today,” he kept his voice low as the other super soldier continued snoring, “me and Sam have to go out on the ice. We’ll be back late.”

You nodded and looked past him to Bucky’s sleeping form, a lump in the dark.

“He has his own work but it’s early still,” Steve assured you, “he doesn’t like the water but we need two men.” Steve bent and rubbed your cheek, “just keep your head down and he’ll be gone before you know it.”

You were quiet as they left. You heard them readying in the other room and the heavy front door of the bunker signalled their departure.

You laid in the dark and thought of the third man. You could still recall that ominous conversation and the fire in his eyes every time he looked at you. You quivered as you thought of how he avoided you, stalking along your peripheral like a predator. Salivating but hesitant.

You couldn’t figure out what it all meant. You only knew that it couldn’t be good. Whatever scared Bucky about himself terrified you even more. Sam and Steve even seemed reluctant to push him too far, as if afraid they would trigger something uncontrollable and that fed your fear further.

You didn’t want to be there when he woke up. You sat up and pulled on the long sleeved tee. You crossed your arms and stood, keeping your head down as you stepped between the bed. A sudden movement in the dark made you flinch and you realised the snoring had stopped. Bucky caught your wrist before you could get to the end of the bed.

You spun back to him as he sat up and clung to your arm. You stared at him through the black as his metal grip squeezed tighter. You shook and tried to pull away.

“They’re going to keep you,” he said quietly, “nothing I can do about that.”

“Please, let me--”

“I don’t want to kill you,” he continued, “I only said it because I hoped it would keep it from happening. That they might leave you there so I wouldn’t.”

“What--”

“I can’t help it,” he pulled you until your knee hit the mattress, “I try not to go that far but--” He yanked until you fell forward across his legs, “he wants you.”

“Bucky--”

“Not me,” he held your hip as his other hand rubbed your ass, “the soldat.”

He lifted his hand and struck your ass. You cried out and fought as you tried to push yourself up. He grabbed the back of your neck and wrenched you up, getting to his knees as he turned and forced you flat across the bed.

“They never let them live,” he whispered as he straddled you, “they made me kill them but if I didn’t fuck them, they couldn’t control me… him.”

“I don’t know what--”

“Maybe… maybe I can try…” his lips brushed your own as he bent over you, “I hear you with them and I want to try.”

“Bucky,” you touched his metal hand as it stretched along your throat, “please, you can let me go-- you can--”

He squeezed until your voice turned to a wisp and you rasped loudly as you tried to breathe.

“They’ll find you even if I do,” he said, “or make me find you.”

“Pl--” you coughed and grasped his fingers as your eyes watered.

He pushed off of you suddenly and you gasped for air. He grabbed your ankles and you yelped as he dragged you off the bed. Your back hit the floor and knocked the wind out of you. You sputtered as he pulled you through the door. The light of the front room shone in halos in your vision and he stopped in front of the low table before the couch.

He let you go and jabbed you with his toe, “don’t move.”

He retreated and you rolled onto your side. You sat up and glanced at the door. He opened a drawer and you stood shakily. He was going to kill you, he said so himself. You didn’t think about it long as you raced to the door and tried to twist the handle. The pin pad beeped and you tried to force it. You grunted as you heard him behind you.

The beeping grew louder and kept on. The alarm made your ears ring as he hauled you back. He forced you onto the coffee table, flat on your stomach as he tore your wrists down to the legs of the table. He wound a zip tie around each and moved back. You kicked out and he caught your ankles, bending your legs around the side of the table to bind them too.

You straddled the table, your chest heavy against the wood as he moved to disarm the alarm. His tee shirt fluttered to the floor as he tossed it in front of you. He chuckled darkly and paced around you as he toyed with the elastic of his sweats.

“This is what Hydra did, they tied the women down, had a special device for it,” he reached and tickled your spine, “but this will do.”

“Please, why--”

“They did what they could… the doctors in Wakanda. They tried to get it all out but… there’s things you can’t shake,” he slapped your ass and the whole table jolted, “those things are often what you need most.”

He spanked you again and your skin burned from his vibranium palm. You whined and let your head hang over the edge of the table.

“Please, it’s not too late, Bucky,” you begged, “you don’t want this--”

“I can’t be like them,” he interrupted, “I can’t be nice.”

“Please--”

“I’m going to break your jaw if you don’t shut up,” he smacked your ass and rounded the table again, “you can’t blame me, they wanted you.”

You gulped up air and shook your head. You heard the rustle of fabric and he kicked away his sweats. He went to the foot of the table and bent to grip it one either side of you. He sat on the wood between your legs and kneaded your thighs.

“They think you can fix me,” he rubbed your ass and slapped it with both hands, “but they don’t know.”

He gripped your hips and lifted himself. He held himself up with one hand on the table and felt along your ass as he bent his legs over yours. The table felt brittle beneath his weight. He pushed down your folds with his fingers and shoved two inside of you. He pulled in and out until your body slickened for him.

He tutted and dragged out of you and up to your ass. He spread your wetness around your tight ring and hummed.

“They haven’t touched this, have they?” he taunted and poked his finger against your hole.

You clenched your teeth as he pushed inside and you whimpered as he reached his knuckle. Even as little as that hurt and your body quaked from the intrusion. He pulled out as pressed two fingers to your ring. He forced them both inside and fingered your ass slowly as you groaned in agony.

“This will be just for me,” he rasped, “they can have your cunt.”

You pulled on your wrists until the plastic cut into your skin. His hand sped up and you tensed around his fingers. He groped your ass with his other and hummed.

“You’ll only make it worse,” he said, “not that it really matters to me.”

“You said-- you didn’t-- want-- to-- do this--” you puffed through the pain.

“I never said I didn’t want to fuck you,” he snickered.

“It hurts… Bucky--”

“I told you,” he pushed deep until his knuckles met your ass, “shut up.”

You swallowed your voice and he moved free hand up under your arm and leaned over your. He slid his fingers out of your ass and guided his tip along your tight ring. He held his breath as he pushed inside of you just a little and you exclaimed. He stretched you painfully as his metal fingers framed his dick as he eased further in.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “oh fuck,” inch by inch, the pain intensified and when he was his limit, you were sobbing.

His hand grazed your shoulder and he gripped your throat as he pressed his body flush to yours, his legs bent beside your ass. He rocked atop you as his other hand came up to meet his other. He encircled your neck and squeezed as he kept his hips moving.

He purred and his hot breath tickled your scalp. Through all the pain, you felt a plucking, deeper than anything before. You coughed as his fingers twined and he choked you harder. He sat up and pulled your head up as he kept his hands around your throat. He arched your back painfully as your arms strained against the ties.

He jerked his hips roughly. All patience was gone as he tilted into you rampantly and panted hungrily. Your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled out as you wheezed, barely breathing as his fingers got firmer and firmer.

“This is it, doll,” he snarled, “this is how it ends… every time.”

He pounded into you and tremors of agony rolled through your body. Your eyes closed as your mouth grew arid and bitter. Your head throbbed as he sped up, flesh clapping so loudly it was all you could hear. Your body spasmed as you felt the strength leaving you, as the air drained entirely from your lungs, and sand filled your limbs.

Your head sagged over his hands and you bit your tongue without feeling it. Your body spasmed as he didn’t let up. You surrendered to the darkness as it closed it and promised to dull the torture, to end it all. Your body went limp over the table and the heat of his flesh and the roughness of the wood faded away.

You sank into the endless abyss and welcomed its embrace. It was over, all over. You were free.

[thatharringrovehoe]

So I've been playing Dishonored which is my favorite game and this popped into my head so now you all have to suffer with me. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

He's so fucking cold. Like he’s been plunged into a lake mid winter and can’t find his way to the surface. Hands shaking, Billy sifts clumsily through the box of his mother’s things he keeps hidden in the back of his closet. He's found that if he thinks about the good times, picnics at the beach under the California sun, the thing oozing it's way though his brain losses just a bit of it's grip. Leaves Billy with enough motor function to stumble around his bedroom, trying to find the right pieces. And fucking hell it’s been so long since he's done this. He can remember helping his Ma when he was little, chubby fingers clenched tight in her cotton sundress as she arranged the items on the table just right. Pricked her finger to draw sigils in a language long forgotten, her voice a soft cadence through the bedroom as she hummed Billy’s favorite lullaby. No words, just a beautiful mournful thing. Humming a song of grieving loss. Billy doesn't know why he likes it so much.

“Remember baby. When you offer your gifts they have to be special. Well loved. Something that brings you joy every time you use it.”

His mother kept a pair of earrings on the cloth covered table. She never wore them when his father was home. Took them out and put them back on the little rickety stand in the back of her closet every day before he came back from work. Dangling silver daggers with the onyx beads. Billy shoved one straight through his left earlobe when he turned fifteen and has barely taken it out since.

His Ma told him that everything he built his shrine with had to mean something. Had to be something he treasured. From the fabric to the stand itself. So Billy tried his best. Draped his best leather jacket over the milk crate that held all of his favorite hair products. Placed his Ma's Fleetwood Mac album next to one of his mother's silver earrings (the one he always wears), arranged as neatly as he can manage. He’d had to prick his thumb seven times because to his dawning horror it kept healing over. Just another tally mark towards something being really fucking wrong. And he remembers the warehouse. Can still feel the slimy caustic sludge being pumped down his throat by a fucking tentacle. But he’d hoped it had been a dream, a nightmare from reading to many Lovecraft novels. Billy curses as he slices open his thumb for what feels like the millionth time.

Apparently not.

He's drawn the characters just how he remembers. His mother had made him practice every day, showing him each and every shape and line, drawn in colorful crayon. She gave him a cookie every time he got them right. Never hung them up on the fridge though. Didn't want his father to see.

He can feel the shadow creeping through his blood, dragging it’s claws against his veins. It might not know exactly what he’s doing yet, but it must be able to feel the intention. Billy thinks of ocean waves and a soft hand running through his curls. Fights the pull at the back of his mind to just give in. To sleep. His hands shake harder.

Fuck, where is it?! Billy combs through records and trinkets, a bottle of her perfume. He’s desperately hoping it didn't get lost in the move because his mother never taught him how to make one. Hell, he's pretty certain that he wouldn't be able to find the pieces he needs in Hawkins anyway. Not like Melvalds has a supernatural voodoo isle.

Then finally, finally he finds it. Lifting up his mother’s satin scarf it comes tumbling out to land on the floor with a clatter. Bleached white and beaten smooth by the waves, it's about the size of a sand dollar. Billy picks it up, places it in the palm of his hand. He still remembers the day he found it out on the shore. Washed up between some sea glass, the leather bindings still somehow soft even soaked with salt water. Etched with symbols and shapes Billy will never understand. When Billy showed it to his mother an unreadable expression crossed her face. It was that evening she showed him her shrine.

The rune seems to hum against his skin, an otherworldly song from far away ghosting past his ears. The thing that’s trying to Shanghai Billy’s brain writhes. It's angry, but more than that it’s fucking terrified and Billy has never been more sure of anything in his life. This was a good idea. But his limbs are getting colder, heavier. Whatever this evil piece of shit is it doesn’t like what Billy’s doing. He has to fight against the deadening of his limbs, crawling towards his shitty attempt at a shrine from his place on the floor. His vision is starting to grow dark when he finally clutches on to the milk crate, placing the rune between the earring and his cassette tape. And he knows that there's no guarantee. That whatever his Ma prayed to every night never shielded her from Neil’s fists, didn’t do a damn thing as the cancer slowly drained her down to nothing. That sometimes (most times) when someone would call out to the void the only thing they heard in return was their own disappointment. But he's got no other options. This is his trump card. His last resort. If this hocus pocus bullshit doesn’t work then Billy is up shit creek without a paddle. With a frustrated shout against the nightmare pulling him in, Billy begs.

“Please! Fuck, help me! I'll do anything, c’mon just- please!”

The air in Billy’s bedroom all of a sudden seems to shudder. The shadows flicker and meld together, reaching outwards. The sound of dry fall leaves blowing in the wind, a wail of a thousand dying worlds ricochets off the walls. Then nothing. Billy scrunches his eyes shut against the sting of tears. Fuck, of course it didn’t work. Story of his life. He called for help and just like always it doesn't mean shit. No one is coming to save him.

“Well well well. Certainly been a long time since someone summoned me like that. Very old school.”

Billy’s eyes snap open, the surprise and adrenaline enough to fight the heaving weight of his limbs to raise his head. And there, perched on his shitty milk crate shrine, sits the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. He's got hair the color of soil after it rains. High cheekbones and full lips, milky white skin dotted with a constellation of beauty marks. Billy didn't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't this. The boy god is dressed in a swanky leather coat the color of charcoal with pants to match. Eyes like an oil spill, inky black and endless. With a good look at Billy, they narrow dangerously.

“I thought I fucking told you not to touch this world. You want a repeat of last time?”

Whatever deity he summoned looks pissed as hell. Did he not do it right? Maybe the items weren’t good enough. That would be just his luck. He's so confused he almost doesn’t notice it right away. The shadow slowly working it’s way through his body has stopped, retreated a little even.

“I-... I don't know what you’re talking about. Please, there's something wrong with me. Something got put inside of me and I need it out. Please, help me.”

Billy hasn’t begged since his Ma was takin her last breath in that damn hospice bed. Didn't see the point when it always got you nowhere. But now he can't make himself stop. Cuz he's never been this scared before. The things this monster inside him wants him to do. It's so strong, like he’s fighting a steam roller. He's got no hope on his own.

The boy sitting on his best leather jacket stills. Cocks his head to the side slightly, considering. Then those pretty pink lips are spreading out into a gleeful smirk. Slides off the shrine to settle on his knees in front of Billy. Reaches out his hand to cup Billy’s jaw gentle enough it makes him want to cry.

“You can't get a good enough hold of this one can you? Interesting. Tell me trouble maker, what's your name?”

That voice, deep and ethereal, seems to echo from all around him. He can feel it vibrate in his bones. He wants, no, needs to answer.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

The boy smiles now, all gleaming pearly whites. If Billy looks long enough reality starts to flicker. And for just a second all he can see is teeth sharp like knives in a Cheshire grin. There for a moment and gone in a flash. The hand on his jaw tightens just the slightest fraction.

“Well Billy Hargrove. You seem to find yourself in quite the predicament. That parasite sucking on your soul is an old acquaintance of mine. He's one nasty little shit.”

If a brain washing shadow monster could feel indignant he’s pretty sure that’s what's happening now. Whatever was hijacking Billy's mind has curled up somewhere tight, sunk it’s teeth in deep. Cornered like a threatened animal.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want. I can’t… I can’t fight it. It's too much.”

There’s enough tears leakin down his face that it's soaking the front of his shirt. The boy is giving him this look, almost amused. The longer he holds Billy’s jaw the more the monster losses his grip, and Billy is ready to do anything at this point. Because that thing stuck to his brain wants him to find people. Feed it people. Wants Billy to drink all the chemicals in the supply shed at the pool. Told Billy that if he tried to fight it would take Max first and he can't let that happen.

The boy seems to come to a decision, grabs Billy’s hands to help him shakily to this feet. He doesn’t let go even when they’re both standing.

“You know there’s not many who can fight his hold for this long. I'm impressed.”

He steps forward until his chest is practically pressed up against Billy's. He smells like ozone and smoke, bottomless black eyes trained on stormy blue. Reaches up to tangle his fingers into Billy’s curls, sending tingles across his scalp. Smiles wider at the small noise that escapes Billy's throat.

“I'll help you Billy Hargrove. But in return, you have to do something for me.”

Billy's nodding before he can even really register what’s being said. Anything. He'd do whatever this pretty boy asked as long as he keeps touching Billy like this. Gentle, with a reverence no one has ever bothered to show.

“I need you to kick this little shit back into the hole he crawled out of. Can you do that for me Billy? I wanna see how your story pans out trouble maker. Wanna see what you do when someone gives you a chance.”

Billy nods again, breathless. The boy chuckles, the sound saccharine. Like warm honey dripping down his spine.

“Gunna have to use your words baby.”

Billy swallows, the click of his dry throat loud in the warm personal bubble they’ve created.

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll do it. Whatever you want pretty boy, please.”

It comes out a whisper but the boy hears it all the same. The boy smiles bright, pulls Billy forward. Soft warm lips press against his own and Billy is floating. He's never been kissed like this before. Slow and deep, the boy's tongue pressing in to curl and slide. Stuff him full. Billy's shaking for a whole other reason now. Reaches out to grip the boy's coat, cool to the touch where Billy is burning. Fire rushing through his veins, and he's already so close just from this. Whimpers brokenly into the kiss.

The boy pulls him in impossibly closer, slots his thigh between Billy’s legs, pushes up up up. And Billy is right fucking there, grinds down as he swaps spit with an old god in his shitty bedroom with the peeling yellow paint and the door that locks from the outside. Can feel the tell tale tingle spreading behind his navel.

“ ‘m gunna cum! Fuck, more please!” Billy mumbles curses into the kiss, breath hitching as his balls draw tight. The boy smiles against his mouth, yanks his curls back to bite into the meat of his neck and Billy’s gone, pulsing rope after rope of cum into his underwear.

“Oh my- .. Fuuuuuck. Yes! Uhhhnn!” He's panting like a dog as he slumps forward into the boys shoulder. Gentle fingers card through his hair as aftershocks zap up and down his body. A kiss is pressed behind his ear, a soft warmth flooding his core. He can't feel the shadow anywhere.

“So good for me sweet thing. Makes me want to keep you.”

It's said so quiet, like the boy doesn’t intend for it to be heard. Billy presses his face into his neck. There's no heartbeat under the boy's skin.

“You could. I want you to.” Whoever this is, whatever he is, he came for Billy. Answered his literal cry for help when no one else did. He doesn't know what he has to offer but he wants to give this impossible boy everything.

The boy in question hums. Brings Billy's left hand up to kiss the back of it. His skin feels hot under his lips, bordering on uncomfortable. Like stepping on sun scorched pavement. When the boy pulls back there’s a tattoo on his hand. A strange design that looks vaguely like a compass. It's the same mark as the one on the middle of the rune sitting behind them.

“I haven't given my mark to someone quite so special in a while. Try not to disappoint me Billy Hargrove.”

The boy goes to pull away but Billy still has his hand clenched tight on his coat. Panic wells up in his chest. Doesn't want to end whatever this is quite yet.

“Wait! What’s-…what's your name?” Which is a valid question he thinks. And probably one he should have asked at some point before he started grinding his dick on the guys leg. Oh well.

“I've had many names, none if which would hold any significance for you. Call me what you want trouble maker. I'll be there when you need me.”

Billy believes him. Then between one blink and the next the boy is gone, tendrils of dissipating smoke the only evidence he was ever there. A deep voice whispers from nowhere and everywhere.

“Ask your sister about the monsters in the woods.”

On the shrine the only thing that remains is the rune, both his gifts having apparently been accepted. Billy gives a hysterical bark of laughter at the thought of some higher being listening to Fleetwood Mac somewhere out in the void. It gives him an idea. He drags his lips across the fresh mark on his hand, mumbles into his skin.

“Thanks Stevie.”

[angeli-marco-writes]

Harrison Osterfield - A Happy Day (& A Puppy)

A/N & WC - I don't know Haz, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.2k

Warnings - Mentions of a dog rescue centre and poorly dogs, slight anxiety, copious amounts of fluff.

Summary - Today is the day you and Haz get a puppy. It's the next big step in your relationship, and despite your anxieties, you know it's a happy day.

YOUR HEART FILLS WITH GLEE at the prospect of the day. You and your boyfriend, Harrison, have been together for a long time now, by ‘young people’ standards, and have recently taken the giant step of moving in together. Only, after you lived in a flat with various different people for a long time, and after he spent so long in a house with three other blokes (where you also spent a substantial share of your time earlier in the relationship, much to your dismay,) it’s quiet with just the two of you. And not the good quiet, though sometimes it’s nice and peaceful. You’re just both so accustomed to the constant bustle of people. And the only comprisable solution you could come up with, save for moving back in with Haz’s old housemates? Get a dog.

Obviously you want to, you love dogs, but it’s also a bridge to your future.

“Are you ready to go sweetheart?” Haz shouts from the doorway, rustling with his coat, while you’re still in the bedroom.

“Do we have to?” you beg.

“Yeah we do. You want this dog, don’t you?”

“Of course I do... it’s the rest I’m anxious about.”

See, you’ve been conversing with a shelter home for some weeks now, ever since they got an influx of puppies. A big litter of little blighters, separated from their mother and left to die on the side of the road in a damp cardboard box. Thankfully, and by some kind of God-given miracle, they all survived, and many have already been adopted, but your little treasure? You were the only takers. Not that you’re complaining, obviously.

Haz appears in the doorway, his own pea coat fitted to his form perfectly, tailored and tan to suit his complexion. He holds yours out to you and edges closer to your shared bed, made and done up by him.

“I know, baby, but it’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You loose a sigh. “Is there any way we can go in the back way?”

Your own puppy eyes convince him and he kisses you. “I’ll see what I can do. If not, just close your eyes and I’ll lead the way.”

Shelters upset you immensely. How anyone could hurt a dog or abandon it is beyond you, they’re the most precious things ever and need to be protected and adored at all costs. You knew you wanted a rescue dog from the get go, but you’d never be able to bring yourself to actually scour shelters to look for a dog. You just hope this one likes you, or else Haz is gonna have to do it all himself. You can’t face the pleading faces and the imploring eyes and the sadness around the whole place. If you could, you’d buy them all, give them a good, loving home, but you can’t, and that harsh reality leaves a pit in your stomach and a hole in your heart.

“Don’t cry darling.” he coos, kissing your tears away with tender brushes of his lips.

You hadn’t even realised you were crying. How emotional can you be? Today is supposed to be happy, but you’re breaking at the first hurdle. To make the pressures worse, you know that, if you don’t take this little bean, it’ll be put down.

“Come on, it’s a happy day,” he prompts once he realises you’re no longer crying. He stands, shrugs your coat onto you, and pulls you to standing, wrapping his arms around your torso as he sways. “We’re getting a puppy!”

His sheer excitement in his voice brings joy to you too, any doubt being left behind as you sway with hum, holding him close. You’re getting a puppy.

A little more pep is in your step once you stand up, ensuring your hands are adjoined the whole time. Concealing your nerves with excitement is a solid step, so you paint on a happier face than before and clutch him close as you tug him to the front door.

“We’re really doing it, we’re getting a puppy,” you say.

He nods, keying the door open, “That we are. Think we’re ready?”

You almost howl laughing. In many ways, yes. You’re mature people in a committed relationship, you’re both incredibly responsible in all the ways that matter, and know when you need to take the next step or hold back. Getting a puppy is a huge leap, though. But you’ve thought about it, planned for it, prayed for it to work, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be ready, but it feels like a giant step. In the right direction. That’s all that matters; that, and the fact you’ll love this puppy endlessly.

“Y’know what? Yes. We’ve worked for this.”

“That we have, darling.”

Reaching the car, he places a kiss to the crown of your head. “Conserve your energy, honey. How about I drive?”

“Okay,” you answer, pecking Haz on the lips after he opens your door for you and hovers at your height until you answer him. “That means I can cuddle it on the way home.”

“It’s not an ‘it’, remember?” he chides, but the excitement is evident in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes, “we gave it a name.”

“Bixby, and he’s a boy, I know. How long is the drive?”

You fasten your seatbelt, smiling at him as he limbers into the drivers side. He’s attuned to your subtle mood shifts now, and realises that you’re slipping more from anxiety into anticipation, and he needs to work to keep you there, soothe you so that you don’t cry at the shelter. He’s a gem is Harrison, and you know he’ll be a brilliant dog-dad. It’s a huge part of why you’ve lasted so long together. The second you saw him with Monty, you knew he was a keeper.

After strapping his own seatbelt and manoeuvring the car into gear, he reaches over and curls his fingers around your thigh, pulling on that invisible connection between you, tugging you to look at him.

When you do, he spies that your current happiness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but is in part a façade. Haz loves you, but you’re the damn most sensitive soul he’s ever come across, especially when it comes to animals. The main reason the two of you got your own place was because living with people you weren’t close to took a real toll on you, as it did him—no matter how reluctant he is to admit it, the forced intimacy of it all, so this puppy is a big step to comfort you both and help you settle down to this new walk of life.

Of course the delight is there, of course you’re happy, but your slight snags and worries are visible to him too. “Love you, baby,” he whispers, leaning over to lock your lips together, applying a certain pressure, sucking on your lower lip gently as his hold on your thigh increases.

Once he pulls away, he sees the true you, calm gracing all of your beautiful features so nicely, happiness in your eyes and a wry smile on your lips, no overt anticipation of any kind.

“You can choose the music, yeah?” is all he says, offering you the twitch of a smirk before he’s locking the key into the ignition and you’re off.

You nod, whether he sees it or not, and plug your phone into the radio, allowing yours and Haz’s playlist to stream through the speakers, the melodies wrapping you in their embrace the whole journey.

One thing Haz has learnt through his time with you is that his touch grounds you. No matter what it is, as long as he’s touching you, you’re okay, your breathing regulated, your nervous habits quieted. And though you’ve never outwardly confessed it, his comfort has helped you more times than you’d ever care to admit aloud. He knows this, but no one else needs to.

Once you park up, Harrison leans over to kiss you again, more gently this time. “I’m gonna ask if there’s a way we can get you around the back, okay? Don’t want you getting upset on such a happy day.”

“Thanks babe.”

You peck his lips, but tug away almost instantly, afraid if you don’t, you’ll be here a while. He smiles, and shuts the door behind him, tapping on your window and pulling a silly face as he passes your side of the car. You wait patiently, scribbling down a list off the top of your head of things to buy for the pup. Basket, bowls, toys, mat, brush, collar, lead… you’ve already got a lot of Monty’s old things, puppy baskets he outgrew, his old crate and such like, but you’re adamant that Bixby needs a basket in every room of your place… just in case.

“Hey dreamer,” Haz’s voice snaps you from your reverie, that cute nickname he uses when you drift off into your own little world easing a smile onto your face. “He’s waiting for us, you can come in now.”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and peek over your shoulder to the little puppy holder in the back one last time, filled with a blanket and a cuddly toy. Completely unnecessary, since you plan on holding him, but Haz thought it’d be a good idea nonetheless.

He holds your hand as you tread out of the car, and the whole way into the building, and you’re glad to find a member of staff waiting to greet you with a warm handshake by the back door, happily guiding you inside to the office, more than likely. And there he is, with his big floppy ears and his droopy eyes, sitting on the chair inquisitively, looking like the prince of the palace.

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!” you cry, and with little reluctance, you tug away from Haz, bounding over to the puppy.

You know how startled they can get, so you ensure to stop at a safe distance, tentatively holding out your hand for the pupper to let his black nose sniffle at you, before his long pink tongue laps out and licks your hand heartily, a doggy smile breaking across his face as he pants.

“He likes me. Haz, look, he likes me!”

He chuckles, “I can see that, sweetheart.”

You firstly pat at the chestnut-dappled white fur between his ears, stroking his silken fur, before moving down his body, scruffing a little at the rolls of fat there, completely natural for a basset hound-mix. His paws are huge, though, for such a tiny dog, especially considering his stumpy legs.

“Okay, should we settle down and talk about paperwork?” says the kind lady, a completely rhetorical question.

“Come on baby, if we want Bixby to come home with us, we need to fill these forms in, yeah?”

“Yeah babe.” you nod, and glance at the only remaining available chair. “Well, Bixby, it looks like I’ll just have to pick you up. How about that?” you coo.

His tiny tail wags enthusiastically, and he slobbers another kiss to your hand, so you cautiously scoop him up and settle him on your lap once you’ve sat down.

“First of all, we need to remind you that Bixby is the... runt of the litter, and has more significant health issues than other puppies of his breed, requiring more care, including a limp and slight hearing loss in one ear, and he is small for his breed.”

“We know,” you and Harrison answer simultaneously, his one hand occupied with stroking Bixby also.

He’s dealt with business thus far, bringing Bixby blankets from the house to get him used to your scent, meeting him and meeting with the managers, filling out your application forms, making visits to the shelter. It was actually quite a miracle that you were allowed to get a puppy from here, since you both work, but due to Harrison’s schedule as an actor with press and such, he works from and near home a lot, and whenever he’s working away, despite your own job requirements, you’re able to work from home to hold the fort down. So it worked out okay. And with the compromise, they said you met the necessary guidelines to qualify for adoption with one of you almost always at home.

“And he costs £250, but he’s already been vaccinated and microchipped.” she says. You both nod; you’ve already discussed donating a hearty amount to the shelter to keep it afloat, and because Bixby should be worth a damn lot more.

For the rest of the meeting, you zone out rather a lot, only paying attention when you have to sign papers or a cheque, the rest of the time tickling and fussing your new bundle of joy, already so relaxed within your lap. The time seems to whizz by, as before you know it, you’re clambering back into the car, a towel sat over your lap, and Bixby licking happily at your cheeks.

“You know, I showed him a picture of you,” Haz says, smiling wistfully, “the first time I came to visit him. I told him you were my wife and his mum—” he trails off, and darts his eyes to yours, realising what he just blurted out with a dry mouth and knitted brows. “Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“You want to marry me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a broken whisper.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. One day you’re gonna be my wife, and Bixby can be the ring bearer, and everything will work out the way it should, and you won’t be sad anymore.”

“What makes you think I’m sad, babe?”

He raises his thumb to your cheek, capturing a tear before it falls. Again. He’s been stuck doing this a lot.

“Point taken, but for once these are happy tears. I’m just overly sensitive with… everything, but I promise I’m not sad.” Never with Haz, you think. You look down at the puppy, now half asleep, contentedly wagging his tail at a leisurely pace atop your thighs. “This is a happy day, isn’t it?”

“So happy, y/n. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, so much.”

He smiles, and slowly pulls out of the parking spot, ensuring to drive extra carefully, avoiding even the smallest of potholes on your journey. You keep one eye firmly on Bixby the whole time, but let the other roam your gorgeous boyfriend; the breadth of his shoulders, the veins in his hands, the intricate details in his blue orbs…

“Stop staring,” he whispers, “I can’t focus when you’re looking so pretty.”

You feel yourself flush, and turn your attention back to Bixby wholly, listening to your music as you quietly say, “I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more, but holds your hand over the gear stick the rest of the way.

*

You get a lot of attention in the pet store, carrying around a half asleep puppy with floppy ears the size of your entire face, meaning that your supposedly swift visit is elongated, but you survive, and are packed into the car shortly with everything you needed and more. A few people wanted to take a picture of Bixby, actually, having never seen a puppy basset hound in real life. You let them, leisurely trailing after Harrison as he got everything on your list, only purchasing if it passed Bixby’s sniff test.

Arriving home for the first time as a three is what makes everything seem so real, your heart overflowing with joy as you get out of the car, and walk to your door, and unlock it…

The first patter of paws on your wooden floor lets you know that this is home now, for all of you, as a family. That much is intrinsic.

“We did it. We got a puppy,” you say to Harrison, placing your hand over his chest where his heart steadily beats at a slightly faster pace.

“And we’re going to love him with everything we have.” he responds, kissing you softly, meaningfully, letting only love fill your embrace.

The skitter of Bixby’s claws coming towards you soon brings you back, though, and you begin to introduce him around the house, never once letting go of Haz’s hand. You show him the living room, where a blanket is already laid out on a sofa cushion for him to join you, and then the kitchen where his food bowls and water are, as well as his exit to the garden, and then to your bedroom, where the fluffiest basket you’ve ever seen sits in the corner, covered with swathes of blankets and scattered with toys. Treats already cover the floor all over your home, puppy training pads laid out just in case, and a hook by the front door with a blue lead dangling off it, as well as a tiny coat. Only…

“I didn’t buy this.” you say, spinning to face Haz, Bixby gnawing at his socks, rolling around at your feet.

You point towards the sturdy hook, embellished, engraved with two words. ‘Bixby Osterfield.’

“No, I did. I thought it was a nice surprise for you.”

He answers you as though it’s the most blatant thing in the universe. And really, it is something relatively small, but so thoughtful at the same time, so you open your arms wide, and nuzzle into him.

“Thank you, Haz. For everything. For this, for today, for loving me, for buying me Chinese takeout tonight.”

A laugh rips from him, his face breaking out into a wide smile, raising one hand to clutch at his chest while the other still securely encircles your waist.

“You’re more than welcome, babe. I’ll always love you. But I'm knackered.”

“Oh my God, same,” you breathe, slumping a little into him as you tickle the dog with your toes. “Who knew playing with a puppy would be so tiring?”

A low chuckle resonates from him, but he just holds you tighter, bending down to pick Bixby up as you trail over to the sofa, Haz’s footsteps silent on the glossy parquet floor of your home.

*

It doesn’t take long for you to get settled down, contentment filling you both, alongside ample Chinese food servings, and a fair amount of exhaustion too. Bixby has been with you the whole time, and while Haz sat down first, tugging you into his lap, legs spread wide as he lounged against the cushions a moment later, he ensured to position himself accurately on the ‘L’ shape of your sofa, so you could both reach the tiny snoozing puppy who curled into your side without a second thought.

“I’m glad we got a puppy,” you whisper into the darkness.

Night has come, the day having slipped away, and the movie you had playing is close to rolling its credits. You didn’t close your curtains but instead decided to watch the sun set and the star sparkle in the onyx sky, a stark contrast of beautiful silver, the light mirroring that that Bixby has brought into your lives.

“I am too, babe,” he replies, his nose burying into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, gently kissing your exposed skin, “how about we just settle here tonight?”

“Hmm, good plan,” is all you can muster, already feeling the tug of sleep, one hand on Bixby’s soft silken fur, the other holding Haz’s hand.

This is it, you think to yourself as you drift off, this is your family. Haz and Bixby, both of them snuggling into you, keeping you tethered, bringing you sheer joy. A happy day. All because you got a puppy.

[talkfastromance4]

/6:00 a.m--ashton irwin blurb /clementine series

this literally just popped in my head right now, I’ve been meaning to get back to my clementine series so hopefully this sparks some more! 

/clementine series

word count: 1k

warnings: ominous musings from ashton

Enjoy! :)

***

Ashton’s favorite part of the day is waking up to Clementine’s soft rousing's of her alerting her parents she’s awake and ready to start the day. He always kisses Y/N ordering her gently to get more sleep while he goes to their daughter. He pads across the hall to Clementine’s room and finds her sitting up in her crib, her curls and dimpled grin imprinted in his memory.

“Hi my baby love, did you have a good sleep?” he coos quietly and leans over the railing. She claps her hands at seeing her daddy’s smiling face then raises her arms up. “There’s my big girl,” he picks her up effortlessly into his arms.

He kisses her head on his way to her changing table and hands her the turquoise drumsticks Luke brought her. They go with a toy drum set but she’d much rather hold them in her hands then smack the plastic drums. She starts to babble around the drumsticks, her big beautiful eyes staring up at him.

“Yeah, that’s what you dreamt about? I hope mommy and I were with you,” he comments with her and grabs a new diaper. “I’ll make you some breakfast and then when mommy wakes up, maybe we could go for a walk to the park.”

Clementine kicks her legs and it makes Ashton giggle because her movements make it hard for him to fasten her diaper. 

When she’s all clean he hums to her all the way downstairs, singing softly as he gets her bottle from the fridge. He flips the switch on his coffeemaker and sets Clementine on her blanket at the edge of the living room so he can watch her and hands her the bottle. She takes it and starts to drink away happily.

“You’re such a big girl, darling,” he praises how advanced she is for only 3 months. 

He whistles while he gets the fruits and coconut water sorted in the blender for Y/N when she wakes. He adds the ice and presses the puree button watching the fruits blend and mix in one creamy pink color. He pours it into a large glass then sets it in the fridge.

Ashton gets his mug out just as the coffee maker stops brewing and pours the black liquid energy into his mug. Clementine watches him when he makes his way back to her, her mouth pops off the bottle and she raises her arms towards him again. 

“Should we sit outside while we have our coffee, darling?” He lifts her in his arms again and opens the back door. The grass tickles his toes and then the warm stones of their garden warm him up immediately. 

He sits down easily on the egg chair, Clementine fitting perfectly on his lap. He kisses the top of her head and tries to smooth down her curls blowing softly in the morning breeze. She rests her body against his comfortably and continues to drink heartily. The fish are swimming in circles in the newly upgraded pond, a task that took all weekend with the help of Luke and Calum.

Y/N and Clementine watched from a blanket as Ashton directed them on what to do and got a little upset when they couldn’t see his vision. Clementine kept trying to go over to her daddy and when Y/N saw how distraught Ashton was, she let Clementine crawl her way over. 

“Well, hiya Clem!” Calum grinned down at her, she pulled herself up using Ashton’s legs for support. 

Ashton softened immediately at the sight of his baby girl and hoisted her onto the place on his waist reserved for her. The three men took a well deserved baby break, both Luke and Calum acting silly just to get Clem to laugh. 

Clementine sighs and lets go of her bottle, it rolls onto the space next to Ashton on the chair.

“All finished baby love?” he rubs at her belly and she grabs hold of his leather bracelet. 

They sit outside until he’s finished with his own coffee and then he sets her back on her blanket with a few toys. Y/N’s still not up yet but she should be soon. Ashton is starting to get worried because she’s becoming very tired again.

He sits down at his piano and starts to play an upbeat, but quiet melody to try and rouse her awake. Clementine squeals behind him, she loves music. 

“Can you sing for me, baby?” he calls to her and she starts to sing in her own way. Ashton’s giggling and hopes Y/N wakes up soon to get Clementine on video. 

It’s when Clementine stops making noise that Ashton turns around to see her pulling out the gardening books from the wooden crate against the wall. Ashton takes his phone out quickly snapping a picture just as Y/N emerges. 

“You two having a party without me?” Y/N smiles tiredly.

Upon hearing her voice, Clementine stops her pillaging and turns around with a big smile. 

“Hi my sweet girl! Did you eat breakfast already?” She asks moving slower than normal to pick Clementine up.

Ashton admires his girls. He tries to ignore the way Y/N’s body shook as she stood up, and how her body appears thinner. Her sleep shirt falls off her shoulder and when he looks at her face, he sees beauty obviously, but something else. He can’t quite put his finger on it. Is it her eyes?

“Did daddy make me my smoothie?” Y/N asks then walks over to him on his piano bench. 

“Of course I did,” Ashton smiles up at her. She cups his cheek in her cold hand placing his own hand on her hip. “It’s in the fridge. I told Clem we should go for a walk to the park.”

“I’d like that. I’ll pack some snacks for you,” she bends down to kiss Ashton’s forehead before walking away.

Ashton watches her, a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach sending signals that something is wrong with how he could feel her hip bone.

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