#Rattles bars of my playpen

[yardikins]

I am normal about and can be trusted with the Norse mythology in Star Wars

[sweetfire01]

Honora Patrem tum [pt.3]

[Pt.2]

1 year since the first Simmy fic! Thanks to all 200 followers who encouraged me to continue this blog and thanks to all those who left a comment or a like to my works! ❤

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Your life here wasn't getting better. Absolutely not. But at least you were making progress with your body. Today, for the first time, you were able to stand. Alone. Without Simmy's help. Sure, you'd only managed to do it for a couple of seconds before falling back on your back onto the mat, but you'd managed it. It was a goal you had both been trying to reach for the past few days. At first you were too scared to take your first steps, you knew how unstable you were and you had fallen on your face just from standing up too quickly once. Luckily you were on the soft carpet the angel had placed for this situation, but your face confirmed that you could still feel the floor underneath. Sure, it didn't hurt that much, just a light bump, but the shock of learning that your balance and strength were still so compromised was enough to make you sob into Simmy's arm.

From that moment on you clung with all the strength you had to every object you could hold on to: a piece of furniture, the bars of the baby box, a daddy's hand. You didn't know if you felt more babyish "walking" like this or crawling as usual. You were playing looking at your stuffies while sitting in the baby playpen. The angel was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Weaning was going well, you had a few more days of vomiting, but now your tummy was quite used to solid food (as much as soups and soft food might be considered solid). You continued to receive your bottles, 3 times a day after each meal, on his lap, skin to skin. Luckily, the goodness of the milk was enough to let you ignore this detail. You appreciated how it became tastier and sweeter as the drug wore off. Maybe even too sweet. The scent of boiling carrots and potatoes wafted from the kitchen. You recognized that he was a good cook. Part of you wondered what you would eat if other people were your daddies. You knew the cooking of the demon brothers, it wasn't bad if you kept Beel away from the kitchen. Maybe it wouldn't have been bad with Diavolo either, he would have left all the meals to Barbatos. You wonder if the prince was able to cook, but probably he won't be able to prepare even a bottle for you. Just like Solomon. The stuffed rabbit in your hand told you that you were lucky you weren't with Solomon and you nodded at him. You continued to talk to him for a little more, remembering when he cooked some simple popcorn and almost burned down Purgatory Hall, when you suddently recovered to your sense and threw it against the bars of the stall. You shouldn't play with that stupid rabbit and above all you shouldn't be grateful to be here. Simeon had kidnapped you! In a fit of childish rage, you grabbed the rabbit again, grabbed onto the chest-high bars, stood up, and threw it across the room. Soon the other stuffies followed suit, being thrown out of the baby box one after the other. They didn't go very far, you didn't have all that strength yet, but you saw them land with a light thud at least a meter away. However, it is a good progress compared to the first days. And when all the stuffies in the box were gone, you felt so much satisfaction that you started throwing the other toys. A teething ring, a rattle, some wooden blocks that even made more noise than stuffies and reached further. You crawled around grabbing any toys that came to hand. You spotted a small xylophone and dragged it, ready to be thrown. It was a little heavier than the others, so it took more effort: you could try to throw it with both hands while sitting, but you probably wouldn't be able to use enough force to send it over the bars. You held onto the box tightly with one hand, standing up, but the other couldn't lift the small musical instrument on its own.

How could you throw this thing? Grabbing it from one end made it too heavy, you could try from the center but your hand was too small to do it properly. You really had to use all the strength you had (and had left). With a huge effort, still holding onto the bars with one hand, you tried again to lift it from one of the legs to the end. And you actually managed to lift the xylophone a little, get it to your chest...before it started to slip from your grip. It wasn't right! You were working so hard! Just another little effort... Before the toy slipped away from you completely, you grabbed it with your other hand. He suddenly felt lighter. With a naughty smile, you felt like you could finally send it over the bars. Who knows if it would have played! Unfortunately you didn't have the pleasure of finding out when, trying to take a step to lean out further, your legs gave out and you fell on your butt on the playpen mat. Oh, this really wasn't right! No matter how childish it may have seemed at the time, you were about to let out all your frustration in the worst way possible. “Ooh, little lamb, were you up all by yourself?” Simmy approached you, stepping over the stuffies scattered around the room. It was at that moment that you realized it: you had fallen because you had grabbed the toy with both hands… and you hadn't held on to the bars. You really had been standing all on your own! Oh my, you even almost managed to walk! You started gurgling behind the pacifier. You don't even know how long you had it or why you hadn't spit it out, but at that moment you were too happy to care. You grabbed the hands Daddy held out towards you, pulling you to your feet and lifting you into his arms. He planted a loving kiss on your forehead as he carried you to the kitchen. “My little baby will be getting his first walkies very soon, oh yes you will.” And as he nudged the blocks across the room with his foot, he added, "I think someone's going to need a ball to throw, too, yeah? Oh, let's hope you're not feeling frisky enough to throw your soup, too." Oh yes you would. Okay, maybe someday later, not today… One little step at a time.

[call-me-maggie13]

Year One

JC was supposed to be home hours ago. Ava’s trying not to cry, she’s coated in flour and the cake is a rock hard, inedible brick. Diana crawls into the kitchen, babbling and blowing raspberries at Ava.

"Hi, hi! Hey, baby!" Ava wipes her hands on the dishrag and picks her up. "Are you having a good day?"

Diana babbles at her then sticks her tongue out and giggles, Ava smiles and sticks her tongue out in response.

The door opens, thumps loudly against the wall and JC stumbles into the house. He brings the smell of a sticky bar floor with him, rocking and stumbling like a drunken sailor during a hurricane.

"Oh, hey," JC slurs, offering Ava a peace sign and a nod. Ava sighs and walks away, lowering Diana into her playpen and handing her a shape sorting toy.

"You’re late." She wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, she settles for pushing past him. "Did you get a cake?"

"I had a shit day at work, thanks for asking, Ava." She can hear him rolling his eyes.

"Did you bring a cake or not, JC?"

"Fuck," he groans, leaning against the doorframe and running his hand through his hair. He looks exhausted, bags under his bloodshot eyes. Ava finds she doesn’t much care.

"It’s your daughter’s birthday and you didn’t get her a cake? Did you at least get her a present? Something to unwrap?"

He doesn’t answer, stuffs his hands deep into his pockets and cuts his eyes away. His jaw is clenched, the line hard and strong beneath the muscle, his throat bobs as he swallows.

"No?" She shakes her head and fights back the tears in her eyes. "No. Of course not, why would you?"

"I’m going to change." He turns and stalks down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind him. It rattles the pictures on the wall and makes Diana flinch.

"Yeah. Great talk, JC." She calls after him, lifting a now screaming Diana from the playpen and trying to calm her. JC yells something back at her, but she can’t tell what he said over Diana’s cries. It doesn’t matter, she realizes, because she doesn’t care what excuses he has anymore.

They don’t talk the rest of the evening. JC brings her one of Diana’s stuffed animals wrapped in a plastic grocery sack — it’s not like she’ll remember, he had said and Ava had wanted to punch him — and they spend supper pretending they’re not angry.

JC plays a game on his phone in bed while Ava puts Diana to sleep, tinny electronic explosions and rapid gunfire echoing through the room until he groans and drops the phone on his chest.

"Happy birthday, Diana." Ava whispers when she puts her down, stroking her cheek and kissing her forehead. She sits on the edge of the bed and watches her sleep, wishing she’d been able to give her a better birthday.

"I can’t believe it’s been a year," she murmurs when she joins JC in bed, the man scoffing and rolling his eyes. "What? Say it, JC. Just fucking say it."

"Worst year of my life. Is that better? Did that make you feel better?" He raises his voice and Ava checks that Diana isn’t woken by it. JC sees and stands, stomps into the hall and motions for Ava to follow.

"You can’t fucking say that." Ava whisper-yells when they get to the living room. JC laughs, cold and hard and angry.

"I told you." He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair before pointing an accusatory finger in Ava’s face, she flinches and steps back. He drops his hand with a sigh. "I told you I didn’t want to keep it."

"Keep it? It? Do you mean her, JC? She’s a year old. You’ve had a year."

"I didn’t want a baby." He’s quiet, his voice breathy and soft. "I told you when you found out."

"But you stayed!" Ava doesn’t mean to yell, holding her breath and waiting to see if she woke Diana.

"What was I supposed to do, Ava? Leave you pregnant and homeless? Abandon you with a newborn on the side of the street? I never wanted this. Don’t make me the bad guy."

"You don’t have to stay."

"I don’t want to!" She flinches at his booming voice. "Is that what you want to hear, Ava? I. Don’t. Want. To. Stay."

Diana cries, loud and howling and Ava wants to join her. She wants the ground to open up and swallow her.

"Then don’t." Saltwater races down her cheeks, drips from her chin to the floor and JC’s face falls. "I’ll find a job and an apartment. You don’t have to stay."

"Ava…" his fingers brush her elbow and she jerks away, dodges past him to get to Diana.

"No. It’s fine. You don’t want a baby. I’ll figure it out."

Neither says anything for a long time, they stare at each other in silence until JC sighs and shakes his head.

"I’ll sleep out here."

Ava nods and turns away, starting toward where Diana is wailing.

"Ava, wait." She stops and turns to him, eyebrows raised and breath held. He smiles sadly and nods at her, swallowing before continuing. "I just… thank you. I’m sorry."

Ava cries herself to sleep, apologizing for being a terrible mother to Diana who’s asleep on her chest. She’d ruined Diana’s first birthday, she’s going to grow up resenting Ava. What kind of mother ruins her baby’s first birthday?

JC helps Ava move that same weekend, leaving her with everything she could ever possibly need to raise a baby. He sends double what she asks for child support, but they don’t see each other again. She keeps up with him on social media, watches as he travels the world and chases girls and spends far too many weekends too drunk to remember his name.

He looks happy.

Year Two

"Is it supposed to look like that?" Lilith points at the lump on the breakfast bar. Beatrice frowns at her and wipes her hands down the front of her apron. She’s covered in flour and there are eggshells at her feet.

"Lilith, leave them alone," Camila grabs her by the elbow and drags her back to where they’re playing with Diana, who’s dressed in a yellow princess gown and tiara. Diana waves at Beatrice with a smile before returning to her tea party.

Beatrice waves back, even though Diana’s already looking away, before turning to Ava.

"I don’t think it looks that bad." Ava laughs at her, scrunching her nose up at the unforgiving lump that’s supposed to be Diana’s birthday cake. They’d tried, but maybe they weren’t meant to bake.

"It’s terrible, Bea." Ava tucks herself into Beatrice’s chest, arms winding around her waist and holding her in place. Beatrice drops her chin on the top of her head and squeezes her close.

"If we give her the dollhouse last, she might forget about the cake," Beatrice whispers with a chuckle, pulling away when Ava giggles and pushes her shoulder playfully.

"We could ask Shannon and Mary to pick one up?" The doorbell chimes and Ava groans. Another birthday without a cake. What kind of mother can’t bake a birthday cake?

Cheers of greetings drift down the hallway, bouncing and bubbling and bright. Diana abandons the tea party to sprint full speed into Shannon’s legs, nearly knocking them out from under her and sending her crumpling into the ground.

"What’s box?" Diana asks, reaching towards the box in Mary’s hands. Shannon and Mary share a grin before Mary drops to a knee next to Diana.

"It’s your cake, wanna see?"

"I told you we were making a cake, Shannon." Beatrice chides before Mary opens the box to reveal a unicorn shaped cake. Diana squeals and bounces on her toes, looking like she’s seriously debating throttling herself into the cake when Shannon scoops her up.

"I know, but you can’t bake and I guessed Ava wouldn’t be able to either, sorry." She isn’t. She’s laughing, but Beatrice doesn’t care because Diana has a cake now.

Ava catches her eye and Beatrice shakes her head minutely, glancing towards the kitchen. Ava nods and excuses herself to dump the cake into the trash. She barely manages to shut the lid before Mary joins her. Ava pretends to be wiping the counters off, like she didn’t just throw away her and Beatrice’s second pitiful attempt at a cake, and Mary laughs.

"Look, I’ve known Bea since she was fourteen. She can’t bake. It’s sad and it’s hilarious. But you?" Mary sets the cake on the counter and digs through a drawer for birthday candles. "I have to say, I did want to give you the benefit of the doubt. Shannon said you don’t have baking hands though, whatever that means."

"I did not!" Shannon bumps their shoulders before setting Diana down and watching her race back to her tea party. "What I said was that you don’t look like you know how to make a cake."

"That’s not true at all, she said you don’t have baking hands. I swear by it!"

"How does someone who knows how to make a cake look?" Beatrice asks, taking her sister by the shoulders and giving her a soft shake.

"Well, like me. Of course. And Camila and Lilith."

"Lilith can’t bake."

"Well, she looks like she can."

"Lilith started a kitchen fire. She was boiling water and started a fire. Lilith started a fire with water, Shannon." Ava giggles at Beatrice’s frustration, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers three times. Beatrice repeats the pattern.

"Beatrice! I was fifteen! Let it go!" Lilith calls from the kitchen table, earning a scolding remark from Diana about how princesses don’t yell. Lilith’s cheeks burn red and she apologizes, offering Diana a toy cookie as repentance. Diana accepts it and hugs her.

"Nannon, Mary come!" Diana asks, waving them over. Mary grins and drags Shannon out of the room by her hand, offering Diana a curtsy before taking the offered plastic tea cup and seat.

Ava leans onto the counter and watches them complimenting the tea and fake pastries, watches Diana glow with every word, her heart swelling until she fears it might burst. She has to take a deep breath to ease the pressure in her lungs.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice murmurs, pressing into the counter beside Ava. Their shoulders brush, burning and alight where their skin touches. Beatrice is watching her, grounding and pulling Ava from her head. Ava is quiet, watching. Waiting. Waiting for this to fall apart.

This can’t be real. Last year, Ava had cried herself to sleep on Diana’s birthday, after spending most of it alone — just the two of them. Last year, Ava had ruined Diana’s birthday and she’d failed her as a mother. Last year, Ava had thought she would never be able to give Diana a birthday she’d love.

She thought she had to do it all on her own.

But here she is. One year after the worst day of her life. Surrounded by the people who love her. Diana is bright and bubbly and loved. She is so deeply loved that it makes Ava’s eyes burn. It’s all Ava has ever wanted for her baby, people who love without conditions. Love that never gets taken away or asks for anything in return.

Diana has that now.

"Yeah, I’m just - " Ava shrugs, she doesn’t know how to put it into words. Beatrice doesn’t ask her to, she smiles and accepts when Ava curls into her chest, hearts beating in chorus. "Is this real? Are you real?"

"I believe so, yes." She buries her head in Ava’s neck and squeezes her tighter, her warm breath making Ava shiver.

"Ayo, lovebirds!" Something thumps off Ava’s shoulder and bounces to the floor. "Come get your kid, she’s trying to make me eat worm sandwiches!"

"You just threw a plastic croissant at Ava, I think you deserve a few worm sandwiches." Diana giggles at Beatrice’s response, bouncing in her seat.

"I was aiming for your head," Mary mutters, sticking her tongue out at Diana when she tries to put a toy sandwich on her plate.

"Hey! How about we do presents?" Shannon twists in her seat to talk to Beatrice, singsongy and grinning mischievously. "She’s going to love ours. And you are going to hate it."

Shannon lifts Diana from the seat, swooping her around the room making airplane noises. Diana squeals and flaps her arms all the way to the living room. Ava kisses Beatrice’s cheek softly before untangling and leading her out of the room.

Diana is sat in Lilith’s lap with a present wrapped in paper with cartoon animals, she’s pointing to them and naming them wrong. She points to a pig and tells Lilith it’s a dog, a rabbit she calls a cow, a horse she calls a bear. She’s giggling maniacally with each incorrect name.

It takes a little prompting to get her to abandon the game, but eventually they convince her to tear the paper open.

It’s a toy keyboard.

"Wow! That’s - " Ava’s voice is high and tight. "That’s just - wow!"

Diana smiles and pushes it off her lap, sliding to the ground and scampering to the big box in front of Mary. She rips the paper down and wraps the strip around her like a cape, spinning before abandoning it to tear another strip and repeating the action. Gradually, she tears her way through the wrapping and unveils a baby drum set.

"Oh my god, they’re in cahoots." Beatrice’s palm rests on Ava’s bouncing knee, stilling the movement.

"In cahoots? What are you seventy?" Ava curls her fingers over the top of Beatrice’s.

"It’s payback for all the times you stole my clothes." Shannon smirks and wiggles her eyebrows, already ripping through the tape to unpack it.

"Did you guys talk about what you were getting her? Did I miss a meeting? My gift is not within the theme." Camila offers Diana a small gift bag. Diana yanks the tissue paper out and throws it in the air, dancing under it as it falls. She does it again and again until she grows bored. She attempts to climb into the bag before Camila tells her there’s still something in it.

Ava hopes Camila didn’t get her a recorder or a tambourine because she’s not sure she’ll survive if she did.

It is a watercolor set. Oh, thank god.

"Is it?" Diana holds it out to Beatrice, climbing into her lap and listening while she explains it to her.

"Here, let me show you." She takes the cup of water from beside her and slides to the floor with Diana, flipping a paper over and dipping the brush in the water before swirling it in a blue and swiping it across the page. Diana gasps, eyes wide when she turns to Beatrice.

"Wanna try?" Beatrice offers the paintbrush to her and Diana nods, taking it from her like it’s the most precious thing she’s ever received. She jabs it into the paper and turns to Beatrice with a grin, Beatrice nods and Diana does it again, pausing and listening intently while Beatrice explains how to change colors.

Diana makes a picture for everyone, each a blob of colors swirling together until they’re almost a brownish grey. Beatrice asks Diana twice if she wants to open her present from Ava and her. Diana turns her down both times, completely focused on her painting.

Shannon and Mary spend the next hour and a half arguing over how to put the drum set together, Lilith sets up the keyboard and starts to plunk out a melody that earns a cursory glance from Diana before she returns to her art.

Slowly, their guests trickle out, leaving for their own homes with their paintings from Diana. Lilith elects to go with Camila in an attempt to get out of doing the dishes she’d promised to wash. Beatrice doesn’t quite mind.

It isn’t until Diana falls asleep on her paintbrush that Ava even mentions leaving, almost like it hadn’t occurred to her that she wasn’t home.

"Stay. She’s already asleep, you can take the guest room." Beatrice wipes the watercolor from Diana’s face with a damp cloth, careful not to wake her. "I’ll help you move everything to yours in the morning, yeah?"

Ava pretends she doesn’t immediately want to accept the offer, wiggling her shoulders in nonexistent silent debate. When she agrees, Beatrice lights up like a candle, eagerly leading Ava to the guest room where she tucks Diana in carefully. She kisses Diana’s forehead and whispers something Ava can’t make out but it warms her chest regardless.

Ava helps Beatrice clear away the mess of the party. Beatrice smiles at her over the breakfast bar, stacking dishes in the sink while Ava wipes the table. When Ava attempts to start washing the dirty dishes, Beatrice drags her out of the kitchen.

"Lilith can do them when she gets home or in the morning, you sit. Relax. This is a big day for you too." Beatrice takes her place at Ava’s side on the couch.

"Is that so?" Ava taunts, one eyebrow raised when Beatrice turns to her.

"Of course. You made an entire person, Ava. And you kept her alive for two years. That’s not a small thing. You literally created an entire human being two years ago. You made a person that didn’t exist before. Do you not think that’s awe-inspiring?" There’s a light in her words that burns deep beneath Ava’s skin, her voice soft and high while Ava watches her.

Ava wants to deny it. She’s not certain she’s deserving of the way Beatrice is looking at her right now. She’s never thought about it like that, never really considered anything about her pregnancy miraculous or awe-inspiring. It was always something that just was. It was neither good nor bad, it was something that happened to her more than it was anything else.

She loves Diana with everything she has and is, but there are moments that she wonders if her daughter will hate her for the things Ava can’t give her.

"Whether or not you believe me, Ava, you did something miraculous." Ava bites her lip to hide how it trembles, cuts her eyes away so Beatrice can’t see the tears gathering. Beatrice hooks a finger under Ava’s chin and turns her face back slowly, traces the line of her jaw with her thumb. "That deserves celebration too."

Ava doesn’t have the words to respond, she doubts she could formulate a coherent sentence right now even if she tried. Beatrice doesn’t try to force an explanation for the quiet tears that she gathers beneath the pads of her thumbs. She waits, gentle and quiet, while Ava takes a shuddering breath and nods at her.

"So?"

"So." Beatrice waits with the ghost of a smile, eyes sparkling.

"How are we to celebrate?" Ava tries to smile even though her voice trembles and cracks.

"How do you wish to celebrate?" Ava shrugs and Beatrice chuckles. "We can do anything you’d like. As long as it is within the apartment, I don’t think Arson would be a great babysitter."

Arson lifts his head at his name, blinks at her sleepily and flicks his tail. He stretches and bounces across the coffee table, carefully avoiding Diana’s drying artwork, and brushes against Ava. He purrs loudly and curls into her lap, nudging her hand until she scratches behind his ears.

"Can we just - can we be here?" When Ava extends her hand to Beatrice, she accepts it with a nod and presses a soft kiss on the back of it.

Neither talks for a while, Beatrice traces shapes into the inside of Ava’s wrist, little hearts and stars and swirls. She leaves goosebumps in her wake. Beatrice can feel Ava’s heart racing beneath her touch, notices the way she shivers when Beatrice lightly scratches her forearm.

There’s a moment, when Ava’s breath stutters and she glances at Beatrice’s lips and she thinks she might kiss her. Beatrice wants her to kiss her.

But she doesn’t.

Because Diana comes stumbling down the hall dragging her blanket with her thumb tucked between her teeth. She pushes Arson out of Ava’s lap and takes his place, pulling him back once she’s settled. She squeezes him against her chest and he makes a dissenting meow but he doesn’t fight back.

"Happy birthday," Diana whispers to no one in particular around her thumb, dropping her head against Ava’s shoulder. She’s so cute, smiling dopily at Beatrice who brushes her sleep tousled hair out of her face.

"Did you have a good birthday, patinho?" Diana nods and crawls from Ava’s lap to Beatrice’s, dragging poor Arson with her. "Why don’t we let the cat go? Yes?"

Diana pouts but she relinquishes him anyways. He darts out from her embrace only to return a moment later, kneading on Diana’s blanket across her legs. She pats his head and smiles when he nuzzles against her.

Maybe, in another lifetime, this wouldn’t be so difficult. This wouldn’t be so terrifying. Maybe this would be easy and natural and wouldn’t make Ava feel like she’s going to throw up. Maybe it would be as simple as breathing.

But it isn’t now. Because Ava would rather pretend they’re just friends than risk having to explain to Diana why Beatrice isn’t around anymore.

She’s already had one parent walk out on her, Ava doesn’t want to be the reason she loses another.

Find more here!

[hiveswap]

My sister (9 months old) has started standing up a little so she has a little playpen and whenever she wants out she stands up, grounds herself the best she can, and rattles the bars like a wild animal

[ashestoashesjc]

One could compile an exhaustive, mile-long list of all the things a coffee table should not do. It shouldn’t cook your dinner for you or offer its psychoanalytical expertise. It shouldn’t change colors on a whim or be a chair. Really, I could go on. But, as is most relevant to us at this particular moment, a coffee table should not, barring some localized tectonic unease, gyrate. Shimmy and jostle and knock about. It’s just not right. 

I look over to Sylie, my Sylvie, who is doing a commendable job of ignoring the four legs clattering neurotically, chihuahua-like, against the hardwood. She flips a page of last month’s Reader’s Digest, elegantly falsely absorbed. 

“Are you doing that?” I ask. 

Sylvie lowers the book, sighs lightly, passes me a worn, resigned look. “You know I’m not. Are you?”

“No.” We forgot to turn off the television in the kitchen and the muted jingle jangle of a detergent commercial seeps through the walls. “Are you sure you aren’t?”

“I think I’d notice.” 

The table goes on rocking. It looks to be preparing to shoot off into a gallop. I picture a race, a starting line of excitable Ikea furniture, straddled by jockeys in bright yellow polos, declaring in bold lettering: “Hej!”

Then there’s the playpen.

Neither of us dares acknowledge the playpen. What lies inside. As if the act of pretending not to have made it might unmake it. Then the child, our child, babbles existentially and rattles its rattle and the coffee table trembles and the illusion dissolves.

“Well, he didn’t get it from my side of the family.” 

[littlespace-imagines]

Midnight Kisses pt. 2

Jeff the killer x reader (pt. 1)

content warnings: Gore, Profanity, Ageregression, Nonsexual cgl, possible BDSM

This story is 18+, it contains non-sexual DDLG & BDSM elements

**All parties are 18+ Littlespace and Ageregression will never be sexualized on my blog**

(Readers POV) I woke up to find myself in a cage, no wait, a crib I was so confused and my head hurt I can't find Jack, my tummy was hurting, I was at a circus, where am I now? I felt the anxiety rise in my chest as I start crying out of panic and fear all I can hear my own screams before I hear loud footsteps running towards the room and suddenly the man in the white hoodie comes barging into the room with his knife out, he quickly looked around before seemingly relaxing and looking over at me. It was at this time I noticed he had a smile carved into his face but I could still see the panic on his features

"Hey, Baby, shhh, it's okay. It's OK, baby." He says setting the knife down on a dresser behind him and putting his hands up I stop crying but I keep hyperventilating my anxiety preventing me from being able to actually calm down while he reaches through the bars to pet my hair. This man could hurt me, I just need to listen to what he says and he won't hurt me. He crouches down more and looked at me through the bars in my crib and tilts his head, it's almost as if he's studying me.

"Did you get a good look at your room?" he asks and I shake my head no, he grins and stands up

"Let daddy help you up, I'll show you around your new room and home!" He says excitedly and I cringe a bit inside new home? Daddy? What the fuck is going on!? I raise my arms anyway deciding that being difficult will get me killed he picks me up and holds me to his hip as he starts showing me around

"Look, I painted the walls your favorite color with black trim! I got you some black furniture and look at the (second favorite color) canopy over your bed with the little fairy lights around it. I hope you like it I put a lot of effort into this is ridiculously hard to get some of this, and here's some little toys that I got you and a playpen that's just your size and a cute little TV over here on your dresser." I could see the excitement in his eyes as he rattled off all the things that he had done all the things he had set up for me and I could feel emotions swelling in my chest that I shouldn't be feeling why am I blushing why do I feel so wanted? I could feel tears of happiness welling in my eyes. I feel myself get excited and slip slightly into littlespace as I look at the new toys that I have

"Awe is my baby blushin?" I hear him say teasingly as I see a genuine smile on his face and almost in response my stomach interrupts this moment with a growl

"Luckily I already made some food for us." Once I'm sitting down at the table and I'm eating I am look up to feel his eyes staring at me as he studies me

"Do ya need a bath? You haven't had a bath since yesterday that must be uncomfortable." I stiffen up slightly but nod, I do need a bath I do, he just nods and picks me up.

"Do ya have to potty?" The man asked me as I nod suddenly realizing how much I have to pee he set me down on my feet and motions towards the bathroom I go in and realize there's no lock on the door so I inwardly groan. I sit on the toilet and do my business before flushing and washing my hands I look up in the mirror and I can tell I'm starting to break out and that my hair is greasy. The man is right, I need a bath.

"Sir?" I ask after opening the door, the man raises an eyebrow at me

"Can I take a shower please?" He looks me up and down again

"Sure, Baby, let me help you." He says and I watch as he peels off his hoodie in the black shirt underneath, I feel anxiety bubble in my stomach I'm not ready for this I don't want anyone to touch me yet I freeze is the man wraps his arms around me and pulled me close against his chest

"I'm not gonna touch you that way, not until you want that. I'm just takin' my shirt off so I don't get wet watching you."  The man says and I can hear the concern in his voice so I nod, trusting him

"What do I call you?" I asked realizing that I never got his name

"I'd prefer daddy, but seeing as ya might not trust me enough for that yet you should just call me Jeff."  I just nod as Jeff starts running my bathwater and filling up the tub with bubble bath helped me out of my clothes his gaze only slightly settling on certain parts of my body but he quickly looked away, he helps me to the tub and begin washing my hair while I wash my own body. After this and I'm clean he allows me to play with some bath toys that he picked up and I have fun with the bubbles.

He then left me out of the bath with a fluffy towel and dries my hair for me while I pat down my body with a separate towel when I'm done he picks me up and carries me to my room he goes to the dresser and opens the door pulling me out a pair of undies and a comfy onesie after I was dressed he put me on his lap and read me a small story before setting me in my crib and putting on a movie for me to sleep to.

"Sweet Dreams, Little One, Go to sleep." He says he kisses me on the forehead and lifts the bar to my crib.

(Jeff's POV)

I sat in her room sitting cross legged on the floor for hours now. I was watching her sleep and I could feel the bloodlust building in me I can't hurt her ever, I love her too much. I planned everything out except for how I was going to be able to kill people which I need to do in order to keep my little one alive I could always keep them in the basement of course that would be a safer option so she could still explore some of the house and not get too lost. God, I just know she's terrified of me and one part absolutely loves it I want to scare her and fuck her up make her just as demented as me. The other part of me loves the humanity and feeling of warmth that she gives me and I just wanna protect her and hold her close I stand up and walk out of her room, locking up behind me, and walking downstairs I saw as I shut the door and lock deadbolt behind me and walk into the woods.

It's time to find the perfect victim.

[rosemoonweaver]

I hate seeing the after effects of fandom drama without knowing what went down. I need to know *rattles my playpen bars like a toddler*

[moonbeambucky]

Baby

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 5860 Warnings: fluff, angst

Summary: A bad date turns around when you find love in the last place you expected.

A/N: This is my submission for @interestedbystanderwrites 2k MCUxDirty Dancing Follower Milestone Challenge My prompt was “Go back to your playpen… baby.” Thank you as always to Sam @buckyofthemyscira for beta reading 💕 gif not mine

Terrible weather began a terrible day but it all turned around when he walked in…

Winter’s icy grip still held on firmly despite it technically being Spring. The temperature was barely climbing higher each day as thick grey clouds settled themselves in the sky making you wonder if you’ll ever feel the sun’s warmth again. It was cold and being near the banks of the Erie made it colder.

Rain beat against the window of your office from steady flows to heavy downpours that rattled you in your chair. You gave a quick glance at your umbrella at the foot of your desk, thankful for its companionship on a day like this when the clouds can’t make up their minds about whether or not today would be when they decide to unleash an apocalyptic flood upon the world.

The end of the work day was nearing and you were looking forward to going home so you could get ready for the first date you’ve been on in a while. After your previous relationship ended it took you a while to get back on your feet and put yourself out there.

It had been about a month since you matched with Danny. He was a junior partner at a law firm not far from your own office making you wonder if you’ve ever unknowingly crossed paths before. After all the talking and texting you decided to go on a date. You were down for a more casual meeting at a coffee shop but he insisted on a traditional first date dinner.

That wouldn’t have been so bad except his choice of restaurant, the most upscale and expensive place in the heart of Cleveland, made you extremely nervous. You weren’t going to disagree with his suggestion, even though you’d be a lot more relaxed getting to know him over tapas and drinks. Danny seemed really excited to go there making you think maybe he was trying to impress you.

A chill had set in the air causing you to shiver and regret not wearing pants. Your navy dress was form fitting and a modest length, and any remaining skin was covered by dark tights and tall boots. Tiny pebbles of gravel crunched underneath your footsteps along the soaked brick of the paved road. Large puddles reflected the lights of the bars and restaurants flanking both sides of the street covered in a sea of pedestrians enjoying their weekend despite the day’s weather.

You spotted Danny under the sign outside the restaurant, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. As you approached him you called out his name and were greeted with a bright smile as he looked up to see you. His arms wrapped around you for a welcoming hug bringing you in close.

“I’m so glad you look like your picture,” he said, pulling back to look you over again. “It’s such a turn off to meet someone that looks nothing like their picture.”

Your head quirked to the side thinking that was a very awkward statement to make especially to someone you’re first meeting. Still, you brushed it off thinking maybe he’s had a few experiences where people tried to present a version of themselves they no longer are.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I’m a little nervous and you’re… so beautiful,” he continued, a wide smile plastered on his face.

Danny held the door open for you and when you were led to your table he helped you out of your coat and pulled out your chair.

He peered over his menu to smile your way and when you caught his gaze you smiled back.

“That’s a beautiful dress.”

“Oh thank you I– ”

“I’m so happy you dress classy. Men don’t actually want their girls to show off a lot of skin in public, some things are meant for their eyes only.”

What… the fuck. Your classy dress was hiding the steam that was rising from the blood boiling beneath your skin.

“Well it’s not up to men or anyone to tell someone how to dress,” you sneered.

Danny’s smile turned sour on his face. “Comments like that are probably the reason you’ve been single for so long. Now that I’m here I can teach you how to act like a lady.”

“What you need to do is learn manners and respect,” you said, placing the menu on the table.

Pushing out your chair you grabbed your things and headed for the door. There was a bit of commotion behind you with Danny calling you a bitch but you held your head high, with pride strengthening your stride as you walked out of the restaurant without turning back.

Deliberate heavy footsteps carried you down the block and away from your disaster date. So much for putting yourself out there again. If Danny was able to fool you so easily by hiding his true nature it didn’t give you a lot of hope for the future. You were tired of being alone and were really hoping that Danny could have been the connection you were looking for.

Playful laughter of a couple walking hand in hand passed you only twisted the knife in your broken heart. You felt like shit and truthfully didn’t want to feel anything at all for the rest of the night. There were plenty of bars along the street you could have chosen to drown your woes in but they were filled with too many happy people that you could not be around for fear of bursting into tears. You wanted– no, needed to go somewhere quiet; a place where you could disappear.

Thunder loomed in the distance making you walk faster, hugging your coat closer to yourself with your hands shrugged together in the pockets, distancing yourself from the lively streets, walking quickly so you could get to the outskirts of the trendy neighborhood.

The journey to your unknown destination ended when you stumbled upon a bar that called you like a moth to the flame. Dingy, black exterior with peeling paint and no discernible name. The weather had fogged up the bottom half of the windows with mostly-working neon signs advertising name brand beers, blocking the rest of your view into the place.

Flashes of red peered through the soot black door, also peeling, covering up the former bright entryway for one shrouded in mystery. It seemed like a place you expected would offer moonshine from a questionable barrel and considering your current state of emotions you wouldn’t be surprised if you took up the offer.

Silver numbers of the address were drilled into the heavy door you pushed open revealing everything you expected. Rock music from decades past drowning out the groans of people that want to escape the world outside. It was loud but not blaring, just enough to fill the void of empty space in the room.

The long bar glows like whiskey in the sun. An older woman with dark hair shows off defined arms in a black muscle tank top, popping the cap off a beer she slides to a man at the end. There are only a few patrons sitting far enough apart from each other so they don’t have to make conversation. This place doesn’t look like it gets much traffic but what it does have seems to be familiar faces; a home for those who don’t fit in anywhere else, and right now that included you.

Boisterous laughter roared over the guitar riffs and you look to see a group of denim clad men crowding around the only pool table in the back. Dry, dusty hands chalk the pool stick as dry, dusty men make the best of their evening, just as you planned on doing.

Cracked peanut shells that litter the floor crack even more as you walk towards the bar. The old stool squeaks as you settle on it, slipping your arms out of your coat you hang over the back. Twisting forward again you see the bartender walking towards you. A friendly smile wrinkled the corners of her thin lips set against leathery skin as her smoke graveled voice asked what you’ll be drinking, because she knows you’re not there for the nuts.

“Jack and Coke,” you replied, not bothering to force a smile back.

It’s understood in the downward slope of your eyebrows and the corners of your lips that feel too heavy to ever lift again. A worn coaster is set in front of you with the mixed drink followed quickly behind it and soon you find one corner of your mouth twitching with gratitude for her haste.

“Name’s Sally. Let me know if you need anything else,” she offered before settling back towards the middle of the bar to get another round for those playing pool.  

The glass is cold, the drink is strong and instantly you feel relief along with the urge to hiccup and burp at the same time. Your hand covers your mouth as you try to do both silently as your other hand digs out your phone so you could delete your dating app.

For now this is what you needed, to delete the memory of Danny whose name burned your mouth worse than the strongest liquor. You didn’t want to deal with any other potential matches either, not tonight, not for a while. With another gulp of your drink you confirmed your decision, to delete men (temporarily) from your life, and that’s when you saw him.

Tall, tan, toned… he was… making your brain stutter or maybe that was the alcohol? Possibly both considering he was the most good looking man you had ever seen. He was photoshopped perfection in real life, an actual god. But what the hell was he doing in this place?

Sex on legs strutted out from the back, looking unfairly handsome in black jeans, a simple white t-shirt and a blue track jacket. He reclaimed his spot at the bar, the corner seat at the end leaving only a chair between you.

The glow of the bar bathes him in honey and his voice was just as sweet as you overheard him order a drink, flashing Sally a megawatt smile, the slightest crinkles surrounding his smoldering blue eyes. That’s when you recognized him. He was certainly a god made flesh, the god of gymnastics Lance Tucker. A gold and silver medalist that somehow ended up in some shit hole bar in Cleveland.

Blue eyes shifted your way making your face burn under the realization he caught you staring. Your lips pulled to a half smile before taking another gulp of your drink and grab your phone, highlighting with a notification. It was an automated text reminding you of your hair appointment tomorrow but it served as the perfect distraction to keep your nose down at your phone and not at the face of the man whose eyes you felt were burning through you.

A smooth voice pulled your attention away from your fake distraction. “What brings you here?”

Looking up you see Lance, elbow propped up on the counter and leaning his dimpled chin into his hand while the other was loosely splayed out beside his drink.

“You don’t look like someone that comes here a lot,” he continued, since you were in a slight state of shock by the fact that he was speaking to you in the first place.

You swallowed a smile, noting the way his body angled towards you now, awaiting your answer. There was no sign of impatience anywhere, but a genuinely curious smile slowly stretching across his face.

“I could ask you the same,” you said, lifting your drink to your lips to mask the surprise you felt by replying in such a bold manner.

“So ask me.”

The bubbly drink lifted up a burst of laughter with equal parts shock. You were surprised enough by your own response to him, never expecting him to reply this way. With no expectations from him you decided to roll with this conversation, knowing it would serve as a better distraction than dwelling on your bad date.

“Okay,” you began, shifting in your seat to face him. Shifting your eyes towards his hand you watched as he played with the condensation on his glass, dragging the wetness in slow circles as he anticipated what you might say next. “What brings Lance Tucker to a no-name bar in Cleveland?”

His face scrunched together as he held in a mixture of pride and embarrassment, licking his lips before swallowing back the rest of his drink. “So you know who I am,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded and broke the slightest bit of tension that hung in the air, remarking how you didn’t think anyone else had recognized him. He seemed to relax under that notion, hoping it was true. Lance has had a good portion of his life publicized but now things were different.

“Well that’s not fair, I don’t know your name,” he smirked.

After telling Lance your name you watched his lips whisper it back slowly, as if it was a secret he wanted to keep all for himself.

He leaned in closer and you felt compelled to do the same, bringing you inches away from his enticing features. “So, you want to know why I’m here?” he said, dragging the suspense out of every syllable.

“Yes!” you shouted.

Lance smiled and chewed on his bottom lip as he watched you laugh as a result of enthusiastically shouting. Your laughter washed over him in calming waves that lifted his heart. A year ago he would have rattled off some line that would guarantee him getting laid but a lot has happened in that time and he was a new man, trying to make the best of his new life in a new city.

“I’m here because of my daughter,” he said low and soft, with happiness lighting up his face like a sunrise over the horizon.

You couldn’t help the smile that formed, regardless of knowing the details he was about to explain, it was sweet to see the love he had for his child. Lance continued filling in parts of his story you had heard bits and pieces about. To be honest before meeting Lance you didn’t care about celebrity gossip, learning most news involuntarily through social media posts or the occasional office buzz.

Lance’s story in his own words was more fleshed out from what you knew and strikingly honest. He began coaching Maggie Townsend after her win in Toronto, he slept with her because she was “young and hot” and for nine months they tried to be in a relationship for the baby but that ultimately failed due to countless fights with Maggie screaming at him for ruining her career.

“To be fair, I kinda did,” he admitted.

Lance left Los Angeles for Ohio to be near his daughter Olivia who was now nine months old. He had an apartment in the city because “Cleveland is better than that shit town Amherst” and also because he needed space from Maggie. He hates it here but it’s a sacrifice he’s making to be there for his kid.

“Your turn,” Lance said, nudging a glass your way from the next round Sally poured.

Whether it was Lance’s candor or the Jack Daniels you felt comfortable in opening up to Lance as well, telling him how excited you were to go on this date, the first one since your breakup with your ex.

“It felt like I had been talking to one person this whole time and then he sent his evil twin to go on the date.”

“What an asshole,” Lance said, swallowing back his drink. He was thankful you walked on out that idiot because it lead you here with him.

Lance was easy to get along with as you slowly empted your glasses discussing this new city he moved to, finding out as many tips as he could about the best places to go while you listened to all of his complaints.

“It’s not that bad,” you joked. “Wait until winter though. That’s the worst.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not looking forward to that. Maybe I could take Livi to LA for a few months…” he wondered out loud, knowing he was lucky enough to have her for a few days a week. “You ever been?”

“Once when I was a kid. My family went to California and did all the touristy stuff, Hollywood Boulevard, Disneyland.”

“Well LA’s a lot better as an adult,” Lance playfully chuckled. “Plus it’s got everything, except winter.”

Lance winked and you burst out laughing, watching as his own eyes crinkled with delight as he joined you.

“Another round?” Sally asked, clinking the empty glasses together as she grabbed them.

Mischief simmered in Lance’s eyes as he asked you, “Want to have some fun?” Your brows knitted with confusion until you heard him ask Sally for two shots of tequila. Ahhh, fun.

She came back with three glasses, one filled with lime wedges and two empties, setting a salt shaker down beside them. You thanked her as she filled the shot glasses as Lance picked up the salt.

Your cheeks were already burning from the drinks you had but now it felt like every part of your skin was scorching under Lance’s gaze as he watched your tongue dart out to lick the back of your hand. With a smirk plastered on his face he poured out the salt to cover the wetness on your skin. It was difficult to not look at him do the same, watching his bright pink tongue expertly swipe at his hand sent an ache straight to your core.

He lifted the shot glass waiting for you to do the same, and with a nod to show you were ready you both licked the salt from your hands, swallowed the burning liquid in one gulp and sought out the lime for relief.

The glasses slammed on the table with vigor, a bit sloppily in your case as you realize a shot after two drinks and no dinner might not have been the best idea. The music has faded to a loud hum as you sit as still as possible, trying to reign in your head that felt like it was floating like a balloon through a storm.

Lance’s tongue darted out once more to swipe over his lips. That shot hit the spot in helping to erase the memory of an earlier fight with Maggie that had him seeking out a bar to begin with. Meeting you certainly kept his mind off things. You were easy to talk to, funny, beautiful and as he looked over towards you now, spacing out hard.

“You okay?” he leaned in to ask, as you felt his hot breath against your ear.

Your head felt miles away while your eyes, glossed over with a haze, were focused on seemingly nothing straight ahead of you. “Yes,” you lied at first, “No. Can we maybe get something to eat?”

You didn’t hear Lance’s answer but saw him leave money on the counter to cover the tab for both of you. You stumbled a bit to get off the stool but he was there to hold you steady. With your coat slung over his arm, Lance helped guide you to the door.

The rain had stopped, leaving the air cool enough to feel amazing against your heated skin and instantly you felt a little bit better. With Lance’s arm around you tightly you walked a few short blocks to small plaza with a lineup of food trucks. There was a variety to choose from, some with just desserts that looked so good but you knew you needed something a bit more substantial.

“Burgers?” you suggested, looking at Lance for any objection, not that he would; you were his top priority now and he made sure you got whatever you needed to feel better.

The line for the truck was long but it seemed to go by quickly and once you had the food in your hands you could not wait to dig in. Your mouth opened wide to take a large bite of the burger, loving the way the juicy meat mixed with the melted cheese and buttery bun.

“This is so good,” you attempted to say with a mouth full of food, chewing as much as you could while trying not to spit anything out.

Lance smiled at the way your face glowed under the fairy lights strung throughout the tree branches above you. He was happy to see you smiling, knowing he had a small hand in turning your night around.

“Feelin better?” Lance asked as you both threw away your trash and began to lazily stroll down the sidewalk.

“Much, thank you. And thank you for paying back there.” Your steps were small and deliberate, unsure of where you were walking with him but it felt like the end of the night and truthfully you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“It’s nothing,” Lance said, smiling as his fingers accidentally brushed against yours. He wanted to take your hand, lace your fingers with his and see where the night would take you.

Reaching the corner of the sidewalk you waited to cross as cars zoomed by, not paying attention to the car that drove through the giant puddle of water by the overflowing sewer. Dirty water splashed and rained down on you and Lance as you shrieked out of surprise by the freezing cold wetness.

“Oh my god!” you shouted, wiping water from your eyes.

Lance stood there in shock, his white t-shirt now see through and clinging to the sculptured muscles of his stomach. You couldn’t help but laugh some more at his face, his wide gasp turning into a wider smile as he saw your drenched hair and clothes. He remembered a time with Maggie before they had gotten together, screaming at the top of her lungs when a teammate threw a water balloon at her. But here, drenched in disgusting water that’s been pooling on the dirty street you were laughing your ass off.

Lance cupped your face and crashed his lips to yours, abruptly stopping your laughter that quickly turned into moans he was desperate to swallow. His lips were soft against yours though his tongue was rough, on a mission to taste every part of your mouth. Your hands ran through his damp locks in an effort to grab hold of anything that could confirm this was real.

Reluctantly you broke away for air but kept your forehead pressed against his as you panted heavily, desperate to feel his lips against yours again. The blue of Lance’s eyes retreated fully, revealing a deep lustful gaze that spoke volumes for how you both felt. Your tongue glided over your lips as before you closed this distance this time, kissing him with no intention of stopping.

Lance’s apartment wasn’t far and you found yourselves there, removing sodden clothes from your bodies in a frantic haze. His body was burning hot with desire and your lips traveled all over his chiseled form. Skin to skin, slapping against each other in the throes of passion. Sweaty, hungry, eager kisses chasing after your swollen lips.

“Baby,” he grunts, gruff and needy with every thrust inside you. “Baby,” he whispers, soft and sweet like a prayer as you soar to the heavens together.

Every inch of the room is coated in a primal musk as two sweaty, sticky bodies rested together under the cool thin sheet, with sleep overtaking you both.

Warm light filtered in through windows gently stirring you awake, making you wish you remembered to shut the blinds like you normally would. Your fingers dug at crust from your eyes as your head pounded against the pillow that felt too soft. Looking over to the nightstand you searched for your alarm clock, instead finding an unfamiliar lamp. This morning seemed… off. 

The bright light was too painful so you turned your back to it, coming face to face with the reason why everything felt different.

Lance Tucker was fast asleep, his face smushed into the pillows; his pillows in his apartment where, judging by the clothes strewn across the floor and delicious ache between your legs, you had sex.

Your hand rubbed behind your neck, feeling a sore trail of love bites left from the night’s activities. Now you remember, and quite frankly you don’t know how you could have ever forgotten your mind blowing time.

If the Sex Olympics were a thing Lance should win the gold in every category. He was a generous and skilled lover, who brought you tumbling over the edge several times. But now with the sheet wrapped closer to your chest and your head feeling like it’s in the middle of a construction zone, you worried about what he might say with a more clear headed mind.

Would he regret taking you home? Should you slip out while he’s sleeping and forget this ever happened?

It was too late to make any decision, Lance groaned sleepily, opening his eyes to find you beside him.

“Mornin’ baby,” his parched mouth groaned out, his lips pulling slightly into a smile.

Baby. The pet name you apparently earned last night, falling sweetly off his lips. Lance pulled you close to him so your head could rest on his shoulder. You were both exhausted and hungover, but spending a lazy morning tangled in each other’s arms didn’t seem so bad.

A few hours later you woke up for real, with a splitting headache you wish wasn’t real. Lance made coffee that helped a little bit, though when he pressed his lips against your temple for a soft kiss you definitely felt something. Not cured of your hangover but the stirring of butterflies in your stomach. You left shortly after with his number in your phone, a wrinkled dress and sex hair that was worth missing your salon appointment over.

You hadn’t expected to hear from Lance, in fact you convinced yourself he wasn’t going to text, making each day you hadn’t heard from him a lot easier to deal with but as your phone buzzed with an alert a big smile overtook your face and instantly you felt relief.

Lance had apologized for not being in contact, he had Olivia for the past few days and he was focused on her. Of course he had nothing to apologize for, you really enjoyed hearing about the mess she made while eating or how he played with her.

“If you’re free tonight I’d like to see you again.” He held his breath hopefully letting out a sigh as he beamed widely at your answer.

Seeing Lance became a regular thing except on the days he had Olivia. You respected the time he spent with his daughter and didn’t dare intrude. Other times you were together, back at the food trucks trying a bit of everything, exploring the city hand in hand with Lance slowly coming around to other positives about living there aside from you.

Most nights were spent at his place, cuddled up together on the couch binge watching the latest series or in bed where your body trembled with aftershocks of the Earth shaking, hot white pleasure you had experienced. Above all, Lance had found a way into your heart as if he was always meant to be there.

Lance’s handsome face appeared on your phone and you quickly swiped to answer the call.

“Hey baby,” Lance greeted through a yawn. “Livi had me up all night, I’m exhausted,” he continued, trying to talk above the noise of traffic around him but not too loud to wake up Olivia in the car seat.

“I’m sorry about that babe. I could have driven if you wanted,” you offered.

“I’ll be alright, plus…” he sighed, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to bring someone new around Maggie. I don’t need the headache, I’m sorry baby, but I appreciate it.”

After driving back and forth Lance came over for dinner since he was too tired to make something himself. Above the sizzle of the frying pan you heard his groans, looking up to find his shoulders slouched, head in his hands on the table.

Adjusting the knobs on the stove you stepped away briefly and walked towards Lance. Your hands skimmed across the hard planes of his back up to his shoulders, kneading the tight muscles as he groaned appreciatively under your touch.

Maggie had fought with him again, this time about Olivia’s first birthday. She wanted to plan an extravagant party and got angry that the children’s party venue, that she had months to book in advance, would not squeeze her in.

“She’s so frustrating. She got it in her head that LA was bad and things would be better back here but clearly she forgot that Amherst hates her.”

“Why?” you asked, applying more pressure as he you felt his muscles tense up the more he spoke about her.

Lance reached his hand back to cover yours. “It’s my fault. It always is,” he sighed.

The sizzling grew louder so you placed a kiss to his cheek before going back to tend to the cooking. “Don’t say that Lance.”

“It’s partially true. She abandoned this town for me, to train, and then…” he gestured with his hands. “She hates me because of everything that happened.”

The opportunity to talk about Maggie seldom appeared. You had a lot of opinions about her that you kept to yourself. It wasn’t your business and you didn’t need to add fuel to the fire they were trying to curb for Olivia’s sake but something inside was itching for you to find out.

You and Lance had been seeing each other for a few months and you loved him though you hadn’t said it out loud yet. You hoped he knew it in your actions, just like you felt it from him in the gentle ways he held you at night, the longing looks, the bright smiles. You wouldn’t push him to say the words to you but part of you needed to know how he felt about her.

“Do you hate her?”

Lance straightened up in the chair, staring contemplatively before answering. “No. She’s the mother of my child, I don’t hate her.” But do you love her?

Lance’s warm scent invaded your senses as your lips were pressed together. He would be leaving for Olivia’s birthday party, with your colorfully wrapped gift in hand. You wished you could go with him, hoping that one day everyone would be able to get along.

That night Lance was supposed to call but you didn’t hear from him. Before bed you said goodnight via text, figuring he was tired after such a long day. He didn’t return your text until the following day, apologizing for the delay. He had caught a stomach bug and didn’t want to trouble you with anything.

Two days later you finally heard his voice. “I’m sorry baby,” he weakly groaned. He was cancelling your weekend plans again, needing more time to recuperate.

Lance didn’t sound like himself, but you attributed that to all the vomiting. He was a nightmare when he caught a cold last month so you can’t imagine how he’s been handling everything a stomach bug entails.

A week had passed and each day without him felt like an eternity. Lance was surely better now so you decided to surprise him, hoping he regained enough of his strength to go for a stroll with you on this beautiful day.

As soon as the elevator doors opened to his floor you wished they hadn’t. At the end of the hallway was Lance, his hand cupped around Maggie’s cheek, his tongue going further and further down her throat.

The ding of the elevator alerted them to your shocked presence. You wanted to run, to go back home, to somehow wake yourself up from this nightmare because that’s what this had to be. Instead, your shaky legs carried you towards them against your will in search of answers.

“Lance, I…I don’t understand…” you began.

A sharp laugh pierced your heart like a million arrows, each one tipped with poison in the form of lies and betrayal.

“Is this who you’ve been wasting your time with Lance?” Maggie asked incredulously, still laughing as she looked you up and down.

The ability to speak had left, your voice abandoning you when you needed it most. Your mouth hung open, trembling as you looked at Lance wondering why.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said softly with regret. “Maggie and I are… we’ve been…”

“We’re together,” she smirked, lacing her arm through his as if she was claiming her prize. Maggie won the gold, again, this time in the form of Lance.

Lance couldn’t meet your gaze. He stared at the floor, lifting his eyes to your trembling hands. He felt terrible lying to you and even worse now with you standing in front of him, deserving of a better explanation than what he could give.

“We thought it would be best to try… for Olivia. After her birthday we…”

It made sense now why he hadn’t called when he came home that night, he hadn’t; and he had been lying ever since. You broke at the realization.

“How could you do this to me?” your voice cracked as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“I thought we had something… I lo…” The word died on your tongue, you couldn’t say it. It wouldn’t change what happened and you couldn’t forgive him.

Maggie rolled her eyes hard, “Pfft, this girl whines worse than Olivia. Go back to your playpen… baby.”

Baby. The nickname that rose from the flames of lust now turned to ash.

Muffled cries from inside the apartment draw everyone’s attention towards the door.

“Great, now you woke up our daughter,” Maggie huffed, stomping off into Lance’s place.

Silence drowned the hallway as you stared at each other. With every tear that fell Lance felt worse He fucked up, big time, and there was nothing he could do to fix this.

“Y/N.”

He whispered your name like the first time he said it, the night you found each other in the last place anyone would think they could find happiness. Lance took your hand and you wanted to pull it away but you couldn’t. You were pathetic, still desperate for his touch, one last time.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed back a tear before it could drop, letting go of your hand and going back inside his apartment.

You were paralyzed, crying like the baby you truly were, moving only when you heard their voices through the wall. Slowly you turned back to the elevator, descending to the lobby and back out onto the street with nowhere to go.

Beautiful weather began a beautiful day but it all turned around when he walked out…

A/N: Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated :)

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[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 9

surprise when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild

summary:  what if riza never went to war?  riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

chapter 8 | read on ao3

1910

surprise when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild

“Two kids?” Riza asked, confused as to why the military would want to recruit children into their ranks. It didn’t sit right with her, but after Ishval nothing the military did sitsat well with her. She’d heard enough from Roy to begin to recognise the propaganda when she saw it.

“Yeah, two children. Can you believe it?” He’d changed into t-shirt and sweatpants and crawled onto the floor of their living room, ending flat on his stomach. Mia was sitting in there on her playmat, who grinned at the sight of him. Propping his head up on his hand, elbow on the floor, Roy picked up one of her toys and began to entertain her.

“Why two children?”

“Initially there was a mix up with the paperwork, so I went ahead anyway to investigate what had happened.”

“But they’re children. What use has the military got for them?”

He shrugged. “They’re extremely gifted alchemists.”

“And did you recruit them?”

“I said my piece,” he replied, shaking the rattle in front of Mia. She had her little brown blanket with a bear’s head attached to the end gripped in one hand and was reaching for the rattle with the other. “I don’t know if they will. If they do, it can give them unlimited resources for them to research for a way to get their bodies back.”

Their daughter had become extremely attached to that bear blanket very early on. She wanted it everywhere with her and would not sleep without it. If either parent dared to even try and pry it away from her, it started a screaming match. They’d quickly learned from their mistake and made sure she slept with it next to her every night. And, from then on, the nickname Mia Bear was born. Roy had been very proud as he coined it. It was the most endearing sight.

“… Bodies back?” Riza asked almost fearfully, closing her book.

Roy nodded, his face dropping his smile for Mia and becoming more serious. “They committed the taboo – human transmutation.”

“What did they lose?” She placed her book down on the cushion next to her.

Riza had grown up around alchemy all her life. When her mother was living, both her mother and her father would teach her about it, seeing if she had the aptitude for the science. When they found out she didn’t, they were disappointed. Thankfully, it was brushed off with smiles and a “never mind”. Although initially crestfallen, it was quickly dropped and they didn’t seem fazed that their daughter couldn’t perform the science. It was never mentioned again. However, after her mother died, Berthold liked to throw it back in her face at every opportunity he could. It turned out he held it against her completely. What was the point in having a daughter, Berthold wondered out loud, when she couldn’t even help him with his prized research?

The one thing that had been drilled into her during teaching was the rules of alchemy, regardless of whether she could do it or not. The idea of human transmutation terrified her as a child and her mother was glad for it. Riza’s mother wasn’t pleased she’d scared her daughter. No, she was glad Riza feared the taboo and understood the power and consequence it held.

Roy was silent as he smiled at Mia for a few moments, entertaining their daughter. “One lost an arm and a leg.” Riza swallowed.

“And the other?” she whispered.

Roy hesitated. It looked like he really didn’t want to share the answer out loud, and it caused the weight in her stomach to become even heavier.

“His whole body.”

“How old are they?”

“Eleven and ten.”

“What?”

“I know,” Roy replied grimly. He shifted in place, picking up Mia from her playmat. He hugged her close, giving her a kiss.

“What did the parents say?” Riza asked.

“There are none.”

“Oh my god.” Her heart broke for the two of them. They’d suffered like that, almost losing everything, but there was no one to comfort them afterwards? No mother or father to offer support? Riza wanted to go over there right now and bring them to her home. She knew what it was like to have no parental figures in her life growing up. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not two boys who had lost so much at the same time.

“I know.” Roy kissed Mia’s head again and stood, moving to sit on the couch next to Riza. “It made me think about what I’d feel like if it had been Mia,” he admitted. 

“That’s awful. Those poor boys.”

Although the lesson of human transmutation had been drilled into her at a young age, Riza hadn’t realised the price to carry out the taboo would be so high. How could one physically lose an arm and a leg because of alchemy? Or their whole body? She felt so sorry for those two boys.

“So, are you going to recruit them?”

“In an ideal world, no. I don’t want them to be a part of the military. They’re far too young. Being State Alchemists, if a war starts, they’ll be called up to serve.” 

Fear prickled over her skin. “That can’t happen.”

Roy sighed. “I know. And I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.”

“I sense there’s a “but” here.”

“If they do join, it will give them access to the Central Library – the largest in Amestris. It will help them research how to reverse the effects of the transmutation.”

“Can’t you do that for them?”

“I could, but something tells me those boys will want to do it themselves. There was a fire in that boy’s eyes,” Roy mused, trailing off. “He won’t be beaten down so easily.”

“They’ll join then, won’t they?” Riza ran her finger over Mia’s cheek gently making her giggle. She couldn’t bear the thought of something like that happening to her little girl.

“Probably. They’re determined, and extremely gifted. If anyone could figure it out, they could.”

“Wait, you said one had lost his entire body?”

Roy nodded. “His brother bonded his soul to a suit of armour.”

“That’s… Well, horrifying as a mother, but also incredible.”

“I know. The kid is insanely gifted. To be able to do that at the age of eleven, that’s crazy.”

“You were almost knocking the house down with your alchemy at the age of eleven,” Riza teased.

“That was one time, and that support beam was old and crooked anyway.”

Riza chuckled to herself, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“I’m prepared to help them in any way I can. I just hope it will be enough.”

“Will they be assigned under you?”

“That’s what I’ve requested. Under my command, they can have all the freedom they like. High command won’t like it, but if it's disguised as a mission then they have nothing to complain about.”

“You’re not exactly playing by the book here, Lieutenant Colonel,” Riza replied, smiling wryly.

“There’s too much corruption in there anyway. The way to the top starts here,” he replied confidently. She watched the determination set in his face, but then softened as Mia giggled to herself, playing with his fingers.“Listen, there’s something else I wanted to discuss with you. I personally hate it, but my mother said it may work in my favour to cover up how quickly I’m trying to move up the ranks.”

“What is it?”

Roy sighed. “Madame Christmas suggested using the cover of a “playboy” as a smokescreen when dealing with her.” His tone was exasperated, as if this was an old argument with his mother. Riza always thought it amusing that he referred to his adoptive mother as “Madame”, however it was probably just a habit at this point.

“What do you mean?”

He looked uncomfortable continuing. “I go out with the Madame’s girls as a cover – a way to gather intel on the higher ups in the military.”

“Go out?” she echoed.

“To dinner. To bars for the night.” He never looked her in the eye, still looking uncomfortable, but also extremely nervous. “So I’ll look like a bit of a womanizer.” Riza chuckled to herself, and that made Roy’s head snap around to face her. He obviously didn’t expect that reaction. “What?” he asked, thoroughly confused.

“You? A womanizer?” she chuckled again, shaking her head. “You’re anything but a womanizer.”

“I could turn it on when I need to,” he replied, indignant.

“I’ve yet to see that.” Riza stood and moved her book to the table beside the couch, however she was stopped by Roy grabbing her hand.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, looking worried.

“Nothing, Roy,” Riza replied, after a moment’s pause. “It’s just… You’re such a dork,” she smiled. “You’re not a suave, charismatic person. Even when we were kids, you tried to be but ended up falling on your ass one way or another.” She laughed to herself, one particular memory springing to mind. He’d been dead set on being the only one to repair the leaking roof in Riza’s childhood home. He’d climbed up, lasted five minutes, and then fell off. Riza had to patch him up, put his arm in a sling, and then went up there to fix it herself.

“Do you want me to be like that?”

Riza was confused. “No. I want you to be yourself. I want you to be the man I fell in love with.”

In an unanticipated move, Roy placed Mia in her playpen in the corner of the room, then strode back over to his wife, placing his hands on her hips. Smiling, Riza locked her arms around his neck.

“I love you. So much.”

“And I love you too, Roy,” Riza smiled. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, making her sigh into it. His hands began to gently tug her shirt out of her skirt. Riza broke away and laughed. “Not while Mia is here.”

He pressed his forehead against hers and groaned. “We need that holiday.”

Riza pulled away to look at him. “Do you really want to go?”

“Of course. I’d love to do anything with you. I feel like I hardly see you nowadays.” Frustration laced his tone.

“You’re busy with work. I get that. I’m busy with school, and with looking after Mia.”

“It shouldn’t just be you doing that thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s my child too, and I feel like I never see her. By the time I get home from the office, I get maybe an hour with her and then she’s off to bed. You get all day with her and I hardly get anything.”

“That can’t be helped though. You’re in a high demand position,” Riza reminded him. Then, in a quieter tone, she added, “And you have work to do. For both of us.”

“I know,” he replied, tone sombre. Roy sighed. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck in the house with her all day. You’re a young woman. You should be out and enjoying yourself.”

“Hard to do that with a one year old,” Riza quipped with a smirk. “However, I’m married to the man I love. I have a beautiful daughter with you. I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Roy hugged her close, allowing Riza to bow her head and rest it on his shoulder. Roy pressed his cheek against the top of her head, making her smile.

“Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you’d joined the military.” One night, after one of his nightmares, they’d stayed up talking about their past to try and distract Roy from the horrors he’d witnessed in sleep. Riza had revealed she was thinking of joining the military after him, to help him pursue his dream, but of course, that never came to pass.

Riza nodded. “Occasionally, yes, but then I wouldn’t have Mia and I hate the thought of that.” The two glanced over towards their daughter who was squealing happily in her pen, entertaining herself with her toys. They smiled softly.

“I do too.” They swayed in place to the song that had just come on the radio. Roy cradled her close, and Riza closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of his heart underneath her ear, and the feeling of his hands on her body.

“About what I mentioned before, what the Madame brought up, would you be okay with it?”

“You, dating other women?”

“No, not dating. And not other women. My sisters.”

“That’s a bit weird, Roy,” she teased, making him scoff.

“No. Not that.” He huffed in frustration. “It’s not a date. I’ll just be meeting up with my sisters for dinner and drinks from time to time.”

Riza was still confused. “That’s a perfectly normal thing to do.”

“Yes, but… No one knows they’re my adoptive sisters. No one knows the Madame is my adoptive mother.” He shifted uncomfortably. “People will probably think I’m out dating them and cheating on you.”

“Ah.” Understanding dawned on Riza. That’s what he was worried about.

“Obviously I’m not. They’re all the Madame’s informants and utilising their skills and information would give me dirt on the top brass, possibly allowing me to move up the ranks faster.”

“Blackmail is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” she quipped.

“I like to think of it as more…”

“Exploiting weaknesses?”

“Using information to discover just how corrupt the military is,” Roy finished. “I’m doing the country a service.”

“Admirable.”

“I’m serious, Riza,” he stated, his voice low. “I’m not a fan, but I need the information they can give me.”

“Then don’t do it then if you’re uncomfortable. Plus,” Riza added, considering her next thought. “If you’re seen as being unfaithful, would you really be promoted? That doesn’t paint a good image.”

“Exactly. I’m kind of stuck on what to do here, but I need that information.”

“What about… someone else doing it for you?” Riza stated slowly, an idea forming in her mind.

“Who?”

“What about me?”

Roy stared at her for a long moment. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” she asked, not impressed with the tone he used. It wasn’t a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not getting you involved.”

“I go out for lunch with them all the time anyway. Why can’t I collect some extra information for you while I’m there? I can pick it up for you and bring it home.”

“Riza, no -”

“I can help,” she insisted.

“I’m not involving you in this.”

“I’m already involved,” she replied, her eyes narrowing. “I was the one who let loose the knowledge of flame alchemy. I feel guilty about what happened in Ishval too. This way, I can feel like I’m helping, and not just sitting on the sidelines.”

“You can’t be put in harm’s way,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I would never forgive myself if you were.”

“I won’t be in harm’s way,” she stressed, becoming impatient. “I’ll be picking up a piece of information and delivering it. We chat about anything and everything when we meet up anyway. Adding in a tiny piece of information each time would make no difference.” He sighed in frustration, but Riza’s case was strong. “If I do, it keeps suspicion off you. You can continue your ruse of devoted family man and use that as your cover as you rise up the ranks. It will keep you in the higher up’s good graces. No one likes a known and proud cheater.”

Roy sighed again, pulling away from her as he ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t like it, but Riza could see she’d worn him down slightly. It was the best idea. It was much better than his, pretending to be cheating on her so he could get information. It would keep his relationship with his mother and sisters secret, and wouldn’t jeopardise it for them. It was perfect.

“It will hide your intentions,” Riza argued further.

“It puts you in danger,” he stated firmly.

“Hardly. I’m meeting up for lunch with my family, something I do frequently already. It’s no different from you doing it.”

Roy sighed, finality in the action. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“You’re intent on this, aren’t you?”

“It’s better than your idea,” she replied gently.

“I… I suppose you're right. Infidelity isn’t something I want to be known for, and will keep suspicion off me, somewhat.”

There was a quiet pause as the decision was absorbed by them both. Riza was doing nothing different from before, however she felt kind of excited. She would finally be getting to help in his rise to the top from a professional side.

“You never told me why you’re so intent on rising to the top so quickly.” Riza had to admit quietly, breaking the silence. It did worry her. He could get into big trouble for this.

“That –” He stopped abruptly and Riza could hear him swallow. “That has to do with Ishval,” he whispered.

Riza nodded. “I understand,” she replied simply, placing a hand on his arm. That said enough. Whatever happened over there, whatever he’d uncovered or realised, Roy felt strongly enough about it to want to take down the Fuhrer.

“Just promise me two things.”

“Anything, love,” he replied in an instant, grasping her hand in both of his, holding it in front of his chest. “You can ask anything you want of me.”

“Anything?” Riza smiled wryly. 

“Anything,” Roy confirmed.

“The moon looks nice tonight.”

“Then I’ll build a ladder up there and bring it to you.” Riza laughed and felt her heart swell with love for this man. He was so good to her. She didn’t know how she’d ended up so lucky. “What is your request, my darling?”

“One, be careful, and stay safe.”

“That’s two,” he joked with a grin.

“I mean it,” she stressed.

Roy kissed her forehead. “Of course. For you, always. I would never leave you or Mia behind.” Good, because that terrified Riza more than anything. “And only if you do, too,” he urged, eyes searching her gaze. His worry had returned tenfold.

“I will.”

He accepted her sincere reply with a quick peck of her cheek. “What’s the other?” he asked.

“You use some of those suave and charismatic moves you were talking about on me some time,” she smirked, winking at him. In response, Roy’s expression turned hungry, desire filling his eyes. She laughed as his hands began to drop lower, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him tightly. His lips found her neck and he reigned kisses down on it, turning her laughs to quiet, breathy moans.

“I always will, my queen,” he whispered against her neck. With one final kiss, he pulled away and stared into her eyes. “Just wait until Mia goes to bed,” he whispered lowly, making her shiver.

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Five - Klaus breaks into a library 

Violet ran down the fire escape as fast as she could, her hand gripping so hard onto Klaus’s arm that her knuckles went white. She could hear footsteps pounding after them, and she didn’t want to guess what would happen if they caught up, so she just pulled her brother along as he desperately clung to their baby sister in a cage and sped as fast as they could. 

“Go, go, go!” she shouted, as Klaus stumbled getting off the steps and into the alley. 

“What about Mother and Father?” 

“Just keep moving!” 

Sunny screamed something, but Violet didn’t listen close enough to translate, instead directing Klaus out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. She kept running down, looking ahead at a street that a few cars were crawling through. The siblings rushed onto the crosswalk, moving as fast as they could, hoping the vehicles coming near might block their pursuers for a few precious seconds. They heard some shouts, but didn’t look back, instead pushing on and racing down another street corner. 

“That’s not gonna hold them for long!” Klaus said. 

“It doesn’t need to.” Violet said. “We just need somewhere to hide!” 

But their hiding spot didn’t come for another two streets; Sunny was wailing and pounding against the bars again, as if she could break them herself, and Klaus muttered something about his legs starting to hurt. 

Finally, though, another alley, this one inbetween a café and a bookstore, came into their view, and after a quick glance behind to make sure their pursuers weren’t close enough to see them, Violet ducked into it, pulling her siblings behind her. She ran for the dumpster, throwing the lid open, and Klaus, quickly deducing her plan, leapt in, holding Sunny’s cage to his chest so she didn’t shake too much. Violet jumped in after him, shutting the lid on top of them. 

The dumpster had thankfully been recently emptied, though it did smell horrible. Still, the three siblings huddled together, trying to breathe very slowly and make as little noise as possible. 

They heard footsteps rush by, but even so, they stayed still and silent for several minutes- maybe an hour, just listening. Waiting. 

After a while, Violet ripped off a strip of fabric from her dress, tying it tight around the cut on her shoulder, though the bleeding had already slowed. She put a hand on Klaus’s cheek; there was nothing she could do for the bruise at the moment, but she wanted to comfort him. Let him know she was still there. 

Finally, Violet said, “I think we’re safe.” 

“We’re not safe.” Klaus said, shaking slightly. He pulled away, blinking in the dark to look at the cage in his hands. “We’re… Violet-” 

“I know.” 

“He has Mother and Father.” 

“I know.” 

“He’ll kill them.” 

“He won’t.” 

“He will.” 

“No.” Violet firmly shook her head. “He wants them to suffer. And for that… he needs us.” 

She shook, as if she could still feel his cold hand running through her hair. Klaus shuddered and wrapped his hands around Sunny’s cage. Sunny glanced up at Violet, and shakily asked, “Whazzit?” 

“I…” she shut her eyes. “He knows… he can hurt them physically. He will. But the way he looked at us… he knows that our pain will hurt more. They… I think they killed someone important to him. He wants them to see us hurt.” 

“Holy shit…” Klaus muttered. 

Sunny still seemed confused. “Dermur?” She asked, which meant, “Mother and Father have killed people?” 

“Yes.” Violet said, a certainty in her voice that threw her siblings off. 

Klaus started a little, and then said, “Violet… have you ever seen them kill someone?” 

Violet shut her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Yes.” 

Klaus and Sunny both had very wide eyes. “Wha- when?” 

Violet didn’t look at him. “Klaus, did you… did you see the way that man looked at me? Different from-” 

“Yes.” Klaus shuddered, closing his eyes and running a hand through his bangs.

“Do… do you remember when you were watching Sunny in the playpen at the grocery store while the rest of us bought food, and- and when we got back we said Mother wasn’t feeling well and went home ahead of us? And then the next day we left super early?” 

“Yes.” 

“I… I went outside, outside the store, to try and see if the windows locked. If we could sleep there if need be. While Mother and Father were checking out. And…” she shuddered, and curled up in on herself. “There was- there was this man, he looked at me like that, and he grabbed my arm… he told me I-” she bit her lip. “He said he needed help finding his dog. I… I was so scared, Klaus, I froze, I fucking froze just like how I froze in there… you could have died, both of you, and I just…” 

“Vi, no.” Sunny crawled to the edge of her cage, reaching her hand out to touch her leg. 

“Violet…” Klaus began. 

“I froze and- and then Mother and Father came, when he pulled me into the alley, s-saying his dog might be there- he was lying, I knew it, and I still froze. And Mother and Father came and…” she curled up more. 

They hadn’t talked about it after the fact. They’d just gone home, and Beatrice hugged her until she fell asleep, and the next morning they got her favorite tea and cake before her siblings awoke, and they fled town as fast as they could. They hadn’t spoken of the incident since it had happened. And God forbid she mention it to her siblings- Sunny was a baby, she wouldn’t get it, and Klaus… Klaus would just get scared. He didn’t need to be scared, he was anxious enough as it was. 

“Father hugged me and told me not to look.” Violet whispered. “But I could hear. Mother… she didn’t… she didn’t let him go fast. And from the way Father held me, I… I could tell they’d done this before.” 

Klaus was silent. Sunny was silent. 

“Mother had to go because she was covered in blood, Klaus. She had to wash it off before you two could see it. She left his body in the dumpster. I got a glimpse, when I thought Father wasn’t looking, I…” she shivered. “I know he deserved it. I don’t feel bad for him. But… but just knowing they could do that…” 

Klaus leaned forwards, hugging her very tight. She let him, trying not to shake. “They’ll find us.” she whispered, as he hugged her and rocked back-and-forth. “They’ll kill that bastard and they’ll find us.” 

They were silent for a long while, and then Klaus asked, “What do we do while we wait?” 

Violet took a deep breath. They were alone. Not for long. They wouldn’t be alone for long. “We have to get Sunny out of that cage.” 

Klaus nodded, and Violet pushed open the lid of the dumpster, clambering out. Klaus handed her the cage before climbing out himself, and she said, “We’ll have to hide it. People in public will notice it and ask.” 

“Maybe she could pretend to be a doll.” 

“Goty,” Sunny said, meaning, “I can definitely do that.” 

“Maybe my jacket’s long enough that I can use my ribbon to tie my cage to my stomach,” Violet said, “and tie the jacket around so that it looks like I’m pregnant.” 

“You look like you’re twelve, that’ll still raise suspicion.” 

“Maybe if I stand on my tiptoes and look taller-” 

“Not gonna work.” 

“Do you have a better idea?” 

“I…” Klaus trailed off, peering out of the alley and towards the street. 

“Klaus?” 

“There’s… there’s a car…” Klaus began, pointing shakily. 

Violet glanced out. A long, black car was driving, rather fast, down the street, quickly approaching them. “Yeah?” 

Klaus shook slightly, took a deep breath, and said, “I saw it parked outside Mr Snicket’s building.” 

Violet froze a moment, and then grabbed Klaus and pulled him against the wall, thrusting Sunny’s cage into his hands. They stood against it, watching the car race past. 

And then Violet said, “Let’s go.” 

“What?”

Violet grabbed his arm and started running. “We need to position ourselves close to him, for when Mother and Father escape.” 

“That sounds like a good way to get captured.” 

“Or to reunite with Mother and Father as fast as possible.” 

“We could go to a safehouse.” 

“Or we could go to them.” 

Though Klaus argued a little more, he kept running alongside Violet, as she kept to the shadows of the desolate streets, following the long car. They kept to the darkness, and kept far enough behind that nobody inside would be able to identify them. Of course, the cage was a dead giveaway, but Klaus managed to keep it at his side, so it was partially obscured. Anyway, the car seemed to be going too fast to notice the outside road anyway. 

They had to chase it down several, winding streets, more than once ducking into an alley because they thought someone was heading down the road and could spot them, more than once almost losing the car when it swerved around a corner. 

Finally, after what felt like ages, the car pulled into the driveway of a tall, dilapidated house, one that made Sunny shrink back in her cage in fright and grab onto the edge of Klaus’s jacket. The bricks were stained with soot and grime, and the few windows were closed and boarded up. A tall tower rose from the left of the house, tilting slightly and sounding as if it creaked in the wind. The house desperately needed repainted, and seemed to sag. Most worrying of all, carved into the middle of the door was an image of an eye. A very familiar eye. 

“So this guy’s in VFD.” Violet muttered. 

Sunny tilted her head. “Heate?” she asked, which meant, “What’s the eye mean?” 

“We’ll explain when we’re safe.” Klaus said quickly. “Nobody’s getting out of the car.” 

“Probably waiting to make sure nobody’s watching.” Violet said, slowly starting to tie her hair back. She glanced down the street, and then said, “Klaus, you see that building next door to bastard’s house?” 

“The much more pleasant-looking one?” 

“If we move behind these houses, we can plant ourselves behind that wall. Get a decent view of the front door. We’ll miss any movement from the driveway to there, but we won’t be spotted.” 

“Sounds good. Sunny, try to stay calm and not rattle so much.” 

“Kuts,” Sunny said, which meant, “Oh, I’m sorry, do you want to be stuck in the fucking birdcage?” 

“Watch your fucking language, Sunny.” Klaus said, as Violet grabbed his hand and dragged him behind the house. 

They ran between bushes and trees, and as they did, they thought they heard car doors slam. “Shit, fuck…” Klaus muttered. 

“We’re not missing anything,” Violet assured him, hoping that he’d be a bit quieter. “We would’ve had to hide from sight anyway. Maybe we can see them go inside if we move faster.” 

And move faster they did, until they reached the prettier house next door to what they only assumed had to be Olaf’s residence. They reached the corner of the building and peered around, just in time to see the door swing shut. 

“Son of a bitch.” Klaus said. 

“At least we know they’re in there. Mother and Father must still be knocked out, they would’ve been making noise or escaping.” 

“How long do you think he’ll keep them drugged?” 

“Not long. He wants them to suffer. Can’t suffer if you’re unconscious.” 

Klaus backed up a moment, and then sunk to the ground, still hugging the cage to his chest. “Oh, God.” he whispered. “Oh, God, he’s going to torture them, he’s-” 

“They’ll get out. They’re our parents.” Violet assured him. Then, cautiously, she crept to the other side of the house, peering out into the backyard. She quickly retreated and said, “There’s an older woman back there, gardening. Maybe a bit older than Mother and Father. She didn’t see me.” 

“Is she…” Klaus took a deep breath. “Is she looking at the other house?” 

“No. Just her flowers.” Violet walked over to a window on the wall, and peered through. Her eyes widened as she saw the inside. “Klaus, do you think…”

“What?”

She considered. “Do you think she lives alone?” 

Klaus shut his eyes, thinking about context clues. “I didn’t see a car or a garage, so either she uses public transportation or someone who lives with her is using her automobile right now.” 

“Best guess?” 

“Probably alone. Why? Are we gonna rob her?” 

“No, just…” Violet paused. “If we sleep here, we’ll be nearby our parents for when they bust out. Someone could sit at a window and wait, and the others could be on watch for her. One resident won’t be hard to hide from. We can sneak food- Mother and Father said there’s a trolley, right? We could jump on that. Or, well, one of us could, while the other watches-” 

“Should we?” Klaus’s eyes widened. “Won’t it be dangerous?” 

“Life is dangerous, bud.” Violet said. She felt the edges of the window. “It’s locked. What kind of lockpick do we need?” 

Klaus hesitantly set Sunny’s cage on the ground, and walked beside her, glancing at the lock. “It’s an ordinary-enough pin-tumbler. I have a hairpin, just- oh holy shit.” 

Violet smiled a little as Klaus looked inside the room, his face lighting up a little. Inside was a room filled, top-to-bottom, wall-to-wall, with books. 

“Oh, we’re staying here.” he said. 

“Then pick the lock. I’ll get Sunny, and once we’re in we’ll bust her out of the cage.” 

“Meg,” Sunny said, which meant, “I could probably bite through it.” 

“Yeah, don’t try your luck, Sunshine.” 

Klaus knelt by the lock, quickly pulling out his pin and picking as fast as he could. Violet lifted Sunny’s cage, turning it around a little. “Not a pin-tumbler lock.” she muttered. “But we’ll fix it, Sunny. Don’t worry.” 

“Mno.” Sunny said, which meant something like, “I’m not afraid, I’m just pissed.” 

“Got it.” Klaus opened the window, immediately climbing in. Violet hesitated a moment, before creeping back to the corner of the house. She glanced at the old, dilapidated Count’s house beside. It somehow seemed even worse upon second viewing. Possibly because she knew who was inside. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, forgetting that Sunny could hear her, “We’re right here.” 

Then she turned and followed her brother.

[justanalto]

71. “I want a pet.”

(did you know I was incapable of writing drabbles? yikes) I hope you like it! Thank you for the prompt, love!

challenge me with a drabble!

Fitz had seen a lot of impossible situations in his life.

He'd seen his best friend plummet to what he thought would be her death, he'd seen men emerge from an alien temple possessed by who-the-devil-knew-what. People had died and come back to life right under his nose. Machines had become sentient and had somehow managed to construct an alternate universe (not to mention trapping him in it). He'd even travelled to the future and witnessed a world where blue aliens ruled with an iron fist and lemons were how you expressed affection. One would think that he would've been able to handle any situation the world threw at him by now.

Then again, the world did seem to have a knack for knocking him on his arse when he least expected it.

"Oh, look at this one, Fitz! It's got the fluffiest tail!"

"Daddy, it licked my hand! Can we have him?"

"Lily, we've told you, you're not to get one that's larger than your father's drones," Fitz tore his gaze away from where he'd been longingly gazing at the more...exotic pets and over to where the domestic ones where. At the sight of his wife and five-year-old daughter fawning over the stool-sized puppies in the cages, the corners of his lips threatened to turn up at the edges and split into a full smile.

He remembered back in the Academy days -- hell, even during their early days on the Bus -- when he'd dream about this sort of life; the kind where he, Jemma and some unnamed child (he'd always hoped for a girl. Not that he'd ever told her this) would be out on the town, shopping for something impossible or other. The dream had always been curbed before it got too far: it wasn't proper to daydream about a woman you surely wouldn't be able to have.

What a naive fool he'd been. Ten years (and at least five handfuls of life-threatening situations later), not only had he gotten the girl, but he'd also gotten the daughter. The thing, though, was that in his dreams, their little imaginary family always adopted a monkey. Perhaps a little capuchin, or a pygmy marmoset -- their SHIELD salaries had set them up quite well, after all -- but never, not even in his wildest dreams, had he expected this to happen.

Lily Margaret FitzSimmons (Jemma had absolutely insisted on naming their daughter in some way after the famed founder) was currently seated criss-cross on the floor of a playpen, her magenta-colored woolen jumper absorbing glob after glob of dog drool as she played with a small pug.

She hadn't even looked at the monkeys when she'd walked in, making a straight beeline for the puppies. Jemma'd had to reign in her laughter for a solid five minutes at the look of shock and disappointment on her husband's face.

Personally, Fitz didn't quite understand why she was so fond of pugs. Labs he could understand. Great Danes and Greyhounds were useful racing dogs. Even corgis provided their own form of entertainment, if only when they shook their butts. All pugs did were walk around like someone had permanently offended all of their kin. God, he hoped Lily wouldn't decide on a pug. He still couldn't believe they weren't adopting a monkey.

"You know, when she said to us, 'I want a pet', I was thinking we could start small," he murmured to Jemma, who was filming the whole spectacle on her phone. "Goldfish, maybe. Or a hermit crab. Maybe we could've even got her sea monkeys --"

"They can hardly be called monkeys, Fitz, you of all people should know --"

"That they're just brine shrimp, yes, Jemma, I know." Both of them watched as the pug nearly bowled Lily over in its excitement. "But just for a puppy? Seems like a large leap. And a pug, too."

"I know." Jemma's nose crinkled in slight disgust. "I'm really hoping she picks the Coton. Daisy wouldn't stop harping about how she and Robbie have got that stupid Peekapoo. What kind of sane couple names their dog Coulson?"

"Apparently, you thought it was a great idea at the time. And that's rich, coming from the woman who chose her daughter's middle name to be for the founding woman of SHIELD." To be fair, Coulson had been over the moon upon finding out about Daisy and Robbie's canine christening -- so much, in fact, that the FitzSimmons family liked to play a game with their dog furniture to determine if the Reyes-Johnsons had bought it or Coulson had.

"I suppose it is," Jemma answered with a small smile. "But making her middle name Barbara was a little too old-fashioned for me." A series of excited yips caught their attention. Lily had been knocked back fully by the pug and was now being licked from head to toe, all while shrieking happily. Both parents exchanged a look of dread.

"We're getting this pug, aren't we?"

One interview, three stamps and a load of paperwork that would've even made May flinch later, the excitable pug was penned, the adoption certificate signed, and the family in the car ride home. Lily was chowing down on a strawberry shortcake pop Jemma had gotten her from the ice cream truck close by, while Fitz seemed to be devouring a Klondike bar and a rocket popsicle simultaneously.

"I gots a pet!" Lily's ice cream would've been fed to the car seats had it not been for the sheer forces of friction (Fitz made a note to say his prayers to Guillaume Amontons later that friction had kept the bar on the stick). "I gots a puppo!" She peered over at the cage once more, buckled in haphazardly in the seat across from her. "And puppo loves me!"

This was what Fitz was going to have to endure for the next thirteen years? Was there a way he could have May run over him in a Quinjet and make it look like an accident? Bobbi and Hunter had been experts at covering their tracks. Surely they knew how to get themselves lost if they needed to. "He looks like he loves you a lot, sunshine." The pug chose that exact moment to yip and jump around in its cage, rattling it enough that Jemma seriously considered pulling over and moving it to the trunk.

"Now that we've got him, have you thought about a name, Lily?" Her mother's question silenced Lily for a few minutes, and Fitz mentally thanked whoever was up there for the blessed lack of sound. "Remember, a name is very important. It'll stick with him for the rest of his life."

"Hmmmm...."

Fitz's thoughts went out to Piper, Elena, Phil, May and Daisy the pet rocks. May they rest in peace, wherever they'd gone. Maybe he and Jemma had made the right decision capitulating towards Lily's demand. After all, a dog was significantly harder to lose in your life than a pet rock, no matter how many times you brought one to school.

(Not that Lily was bringing a dog to school. A pug, no less.)

"Can I name him after you, mum?"

At that, Jemma almost did pull over; as it was, she nearly ran a red light in shock. "After me?" she asked once the traffic hubbub had settled down. "Why would you want to name him after me? You've got a boy pug there, silly!"

"But boys can have girl's names, too," Fitz chuckled. At least now he knew what Elena was teaching his daughter when she came over to babysit. "Aunt Elena said so. She said so for forever until Uncle Mack bribed her with food."

"Your Aunt Elena is right," Jemma answered slowly, not wanting to mince her words. "But I do think that naming him after me would also be a bit confusing, no?" Lily took her time with that, hemming and hawing over the decision. "What if you call 'Jemma!' and two of us come running? That would be funny!"

"But I call you mum."

"You might not so much when you're older," Fitz jumped in, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Jemma silently sigh with relief. "What about if you named him after your uncle Robbie? Or, uh, that cartoon you love so much? Bumble? Looks the bumbling type to me, even though he's not a bee."

"How about Uncle Mack?" Lily handed her father the empty ice cream stick, and Fitz threw into their trash can up front. "I didn't name anything after him!"

"Alphonso?" Jemma murmured under her breath. Fitz had to shoot her a look to keep from laughing out loud. "Of course you can name him after your uncle, sweetheart," she called back instead. "In fact, why don't we give him a call? I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear about the fact that we're naming their first dog after him."

Mack was, in fact, delighted to hear about the namesake, and spent the rest of the car ride home crowing to Jemma, Fitz, and Elena about how he was the second member of the team to have something named after him. Elena spent twenty minutes after that muttering darkly over the phone to Jemma about how they'd better name a second pet after her, or "Turtleman will be insufferable, and I'll make sure he brings it up to you at every weekly reunion dinner."

But judging by the way the Mack the pug had vanished as soon as Lily had let him out, Fitz had a feeling Jemma wouldn't agree to any somewhat large pets anytime soon.

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

@stormcallart I saw this piece and was struck by an intense need to write something for it. Consider this a thank you for feeding the little gremlin inside of me that’s foaming at the mouth for more “buff men with babies” content.

•••

“Tighten up your core there, Watanabe!” Gunhead barks out, hands on his hips as he stares down the lineup of sidekicks before him. “Can’t have you getting sloppy on me now. Really use that diaphragm.”

“Yes, sensei!” Watanabe calls back, flexing his abdominal muscles and readjusting his breathing technique.

“Much better! And that goes for the rest of you too! You need to focus on centering every part of your body if you wanna put any power behind those punches.”

A chorus of “Yes, sensei!” rang throughout the dojo as each sidekick made subtle changes to their posture and form. Their employer was a reputable fighter and Pro-Hero, distinguished in his field for having great skill in hand-to-hand combat on top of his “Gatling” mutation quirk. The sidekicks and interns he trained both respected and admired his prowess. They might have feared him a little too, except…

“Dada!”

A shrill squeal cut through the din of grunts and kiai’s, abruptly pulling Gunhead’s attention away from his trainees. In the farthest corner of the dojo sat a mesh-sided pen, pushed up against the wall with a variety of colorful toys scattered inside. A brown-haired baby girl was holding onto the uppermost bar of the pen, dressed in a pink onesie, with her big brown eyes and button nose just peeking out over the rim.

“Awww, looks like someone just woke up from their nap!” Gunhead trilled, his demeanor switching from disciplinary to doting in a heartbeat. He practically skipped over to the playpen to lean over the bars and tousle her already wild bed head.

“Rise and shine, my little mochi-cake! Did you sleep well?”

The baby cooed under his affections before stretching both arms towards him in an “up” gesture. Gunhead happily obliged, hooking her under the armpits and lifting her up to be pressed against his muscular chest. She in turn pressed her chubby hands to his metal mask, attempting to stick a finger in one of the eye sockets.

“Now, now Ochako.” Gunhead chided in a sing-song tone, gently pushing her hand away from his face. “We don’t want to blind Daddy, do we? No we don’t!”

“Dada!” She chirped again, puffing her rosy cheeks in annoyance and jutting out her bottom lip in an adorable pout. Gunhead simply chuckled, giving the baby a playful bounce as he exhaled a sigh of, “So cute…”

The sidekicks had stopped running drills in the face of this sugary display, some suppressing embarrassed coughs while others resisted the urge to “awww” in tandem with their boss. This was the main reason Gunhead’s followers couldn’t bring themselves to fear him: not-so-deep-down, their boss was the softest softie who ever heard the word soft.

Of course, if they were being truly honest, they didn’t fare much better themselves when it came to Gunhead’s daughter. Quiet and sweet in nature (if a bit stubborn at times), the pink-cheeked tyke had charmed her way into just about everyone’s hearts in the three short months following her adoption. Never far from Gunhead’s side, Ochako had also become a semi-permanent fixture at the agency. Curiously enough, his little girl actually seemed to prefer the hustle and bustle of the dojo to the quiet of home or a daycare. Or at the very least, nothing kept her occupied quite like watching a good sparring match.

Giving her a light tap on the nose, Gunhead carefully lowered her back into the playpen. The baby puffed out her cheeks once more and whined as soon as she was set down, obviously unhappy to have lost her perch.

“Such a grumpy face!” Gunhead teased lovingly, lightly poking at one of her chipmunk cheeks. “But I know what’ll cheer you up.”

As a peace offering, he offered up her favorite toy: a pink, stuffed rabbit that doubled as a rattle. She accepted the toy with a high-pitched squeal and stuck one of its plush ears in her mouth to gnaw on. Satisfied with his work, Gunhead straightened up and walked back to the center of the far wall.

“Alright you guys, let’s get back to training!” He cheered, “I think we’ve done enough work on our upper bodies so let’s move on to a new exercise. Show me some kicks!”

“Yes sensei!”

While the training resumed, Ochako continued to drool over the rabbit ear in her mouth, her sharp baby teeth threatening to pierce through the well-worn fabric. After a few more minutes of carefree chewing, she spat out the toy in favor of shaking it. A bell inside the rabbit jingled brightly, making the little girl splutter with delight. Then she gave the toy a particularly hard squeeze and chucked it into the air, giggling as she waited for it to fall. But instead of the rabbit arching over the rim of the pen and landing on the other side for someone to pick up later, the toy began to float up and away. Burbling curiously, Ochako sat up on her knees and reached for her bunny with both hands, as if hoping to coax it back down to earth. But the toy just continued to rise, eventually coming to rest against one of the dojo’s wooden ceiling beams.

“Buh-Buh?” Ochako whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes over her lost, floating friend. She quickly looked to her adoptive father to see if he would come to her rescue. But the hero had his back to her, too preoccupied with demonstrating a proper roundhouse kick to one of his newer charges to notice her predicament. Not to be deterred, Ochako shook her head to clear her eyes of tears and reached for the toy once more, little brows knitted together in concentration. She focused all her energy on retrieving her beloved bunny, holding her breath as her round face started to go red from the effort. After a few minutes of straining herself, she realized the toy appeared to be getting bigger and more defined in detail. Her efforts were not in vain! The bunny was indeed getting closer to her.

With a grunt and huff, Ochako stretched her arms out as far as they could go, ignoring the growing dizziness and pain in her stomach. Little hands grasped for the prize at stake, growing closer and closer with each passing second. The tip of her index finger just barely brushed against the rabbit’s drool-coated ear when–

“OCHAKO!”

The sudden outburst caused the baby to squeak and snap her head towards the source of the noise. Gunhead was looking at her (or more accurately looking up at her) with both hands on his head, his distress and alarm evident even behind the expressionless mask. His sidekicks appeared to be frozen in place, eyes wide and jaws slack as they stared up at her in horror. Looking down, she found herself levitating a good ten feet off the ground, the safety of her playpen long abandoned as she floated aimlessly above it.

She’d been mistaken before. The rabbit hadn’t been coming closer to her; she’d been getting closer to the rabbit.

With a terrified yelp the spell was broken, and both baby and bunny were sent plummeting down to earth. Everyone in the dojo dove forwards in an attempt to save the falling child, tripping over themselves and crushing the playpen in the process. Thankfully, Gunhead was able to maneuver around his stumbling trainees and snag the baby around her waist and shoulders just before she crash-landed onto a pile of dazed sidekicks and torn netting. The bunny bounced harmlessly off his right bicep, landing on some poor soul’s face with an all-too-cheerful jingle. Stunned and shaking from the ordeal, Ochako looked up at Gunhead and began to cry, fat crocodile tears rolling down her rosy cheeks as she was struck by an intense wave of nausea.

“Hey, it’s okay, babygirl.” Gunhead said softly, ignoring the groaning bodies at his feet in favor of comforting his wailing little girl. “You’re safe now. Daddy’s got you.”

He gently repositioned her to have her head resting against his right shoulder, one hand supporting her bottom while the other patted her back soothingly. He felt her tiny body jerk with the force of a massive hiccup, then winced when he felt something slimy hit his back: spit up. Perfect.

Stepping around the wreckage, the hero retrieved the rabbit and swiftly retreated into a back room where his office was set up. He gingerly set baby and toy down on the surface of his desk, keeping one eye on the sniffling little girl as he grabbed a nearby towel and cleaned himself off. Thank god the dojo stocked them in bulk.

“Dada…” Ochako whined, reaching for him with one hand while she held onto her bunny with the other. Gunhead gave a small “aww” and sat down in his office chair to face her, allowing her to grab onto the edge of his mask.

“I’m right here, baby.” He cooed, “C’mon now, no more tears. Where’d my happy little girl go?”

He lightly tickled Ochako’s ribs, pulling a few giggles from her as she squirmed on the wooden surface of his desk.

“Oh! I think she’s coming back!” He crowed, moving to tickle the soles of her feet with his free hand and sending her laughter up to a fever pitch. “There she is! There’s our happy little mochi-cake. That new quirk of yours nearly gave Daddy a heart attack just now, didn’t it? Yes it did! Yes it did!”

Ochako squealed and squirmed beneath Gunhead’s fatherly affections, flopping onto her back as she kicked her legs wildly. Gunhead just continued to tickle and baby talk to his adorable little girl, standing up from the chair to crouch over her and watch the way she howled with delight. He would have been content to play with her like this for the rest of the day until he realized she’d begun to levitate off the desktop.

“Oh no, you don’t! You stay right here, missy.” He playfully ordered, gently pushing her back down and into a sitting position on the desk. Ochako grabbed onto one of his thick fingers and squeezed it tightly, still a little breathless from laughing so hard.

“Seems we’re gonna have to make a few changes around here…”

•••

“Excellent form, Tanaka.” Gunhead praised, giving the intern a congratulatory clap on the shoulder. “Your technique has really improved since last week!”

“Thank you sensei!” She barked back, executing another flawless high kick.

“Alright everyone, take a five minute breather. We’ll be pairing off to spar after this so make sure you drink some water.”

“Yes, sensei!”

With a quick nod of his head, everyone relaxed their posture and started milling about the dojo, going for their various bags and lockers. Gunhead, on the other hand, turned and walked to the corner where a new playpen had been set up. He leaned over the edge to find Ochako happily smacking her toy rabbit against the floor, giggling every time it landed with a jingling thump.

“How’s my favorite little mochi doing?” Gunhead trilled, causing her to look up at him with a wide-eyed expression. A beaming grin broke out across her face and she reached up for him with a squeal of “Dada! Dada!”

He held out both arms to her in turn, watching as she slowly floated up off the ground and into his embrace. Once he had her in his arms, he quickly inspected the harness that was wrapped around her torso to make sure it was snug. A 5ft tether was clipped onto the backside, running from the middle of the baby’s back to an anchoring hook at the center of the pen. He gave the tether a few cursory tugs, nodding in approval when the line held fast.

Ever since Ochako’s quirk manifested itself two weeks ago, Gunhead had taken extensive measures to keep her safe and happy. And he’d spent a pretty penny doing it too. In addition to the almost ludicrous amount of baby-proofing he’d done at home, he’d hired a support team to design this new tether system in an attempt to stop Ochako from floating too far outside of her playpen. Even the pen itself was custom-made; larger than its predecessor and covered in a high-impact padding on all sides. The material was specially designed to be firm enough to cushion the baby’s fall should her quirk cut out mid-flight, yet springy enough to not cause any serious damage.

Unclipping the tether from its harness, Gunhead fully straightened up and brought Ochako up to his eye level, holding her under the armpits. She looked so fragile like this, her little body dwarved by his broad hands and feet tucked up underneath her like a baby bird.

“You’re a handful sometimes. But at least you’re a cute one.” He murmured lovingly, “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

Ochako cocked her head to the side for a moment before pressing her hands to the smooth surface of his mask. Leaning over as far as his grip would allow, she squished her tiny face against the center of the metal plate (roughly in the position where his nose would be), as if trying to give him a kiss. Gunhead practically melted on the spot, blushing hard enough he was sure you could see it through the mask.

“Yeah I love you too, Mochi-cake.” He said, lifting the baby up and onto his broad shoulders. “Now how about you help Daddy pick the matchups for today’s sparring session?”

For the Dad Gunhead with baby Uraraka anon. He's embarrassed that she's ruining his intimidating vibe...but she is just so cute he can't be mad.