#and other than that i have a tiny baby sniffle but like??? whats wrong with my body just catch a normal cold

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k

Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him

When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.

I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing

Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that

It’s second nature to him somehow

Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries

You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”

“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”

“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”

“They call them malingators for a reason!”

“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”

The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.

“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”

“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.

“Shut it, Si.”

Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 

Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.

When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record

Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.

After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib

It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly

“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”

“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”

Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too

“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”

“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”

You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.

It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too

It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 

“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”

Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”

The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave

You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”

“Then damn well let ‘er!”

“What about when they leave!”

“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”

Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.

They need to see the baby!

They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.

You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”

“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”

“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”

“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”

“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)

“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed

You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 

“You ok?”

“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”

He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being

“An’ you wen’ home after that!”

“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”

He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”

“MacTavish,” Simon warned.

“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”

You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you

Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet

Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley

You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 

Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym

When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”

Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 

Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her

SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.

When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning

By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost

He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”

As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”

“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”

“She asks for it!”

“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”

a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself

[talaok]

The world needs more daddy Pedro with a baby/toddler

pairing: dad!Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: I wrote this for the sole purpose to stop crying cause like get a grip girl and it didn't even work so yup... enjoy. (Also, I 100% agree bestie)

You woke up gasping for air, your baby's cries sounding through the baby monitor doing a damn good job at interrupting your sleep for the third time tonight.

You let out a breathy grunt as you turned to your side.

Pedro was looking at you, for some god-forsaken reason, with a smile pulling at his lips.

Of course he would find the silver lining in all this.

"I'll go" you whispered

"no, don't worry"

"Baby you already went twice" you protested

"It's fine, really" 

again, another smile.

"u sure?" you asked, secretly praying to whoever was listening that he was, in fact, sure.

"I'm sure mama" he nodded, kissing your forehead "You stay here and rest"

"alright" you sniffled, not even trying to fight the yawn climbing your throat "Thank you baby"

He got up from the bed, glancing at you one more time before quietly walking out of the room.

...

He didn't need to turn on the lights, he would have known how to get to his daughter's room with his eyes closed by now.

He was the one who got up to check on her most of the times, and there were two main reasons why:

The first one was that he had never been much of a sleeper, so anytime she started crying, chances were, he had already been awake.

But the second, and perhaps most important one, was that he didn't mind, hell, actually, he loved it. He treasured that moment, the feeling of holding his own child (yes it still felt weird to say), of hearing her breathe, sensing her tiny heartbeat, watching as the eyes she had inherited from her mother struggled to remain open... it filled his chest with something so powerful he had no idea how to describe it, it was just- it was pure joy, pure love.

And this time was no different.

He gently picked the tiny creature screaming at the top of her lungs up and out of the crib, holding her in his arms as if she were a lost treasure.

"hey angel" he cooed, softly bouncing her to try and soothe her 

"what's wrong?" he murmured, tenderly stroking her head "Tell daddy what's wrong"

"Are you hungry?" he asked mostly himself "No you can't be hungry, now I fed you an hour ago"

"nope you don't even need to change your diaper" he concluded after examining her

"what is it then sweetpea?" he murmured, drowning in her big beautiful eyes.

God, he had the most perfect baby ever

"you had a bad dream, is that it?"

"I'll tell you what, how 'bout we sit here," he said, as he took a seat on the armchair next to the crib "and I sing you a song huh? You liked that last time"

"yeah?" he smiled, watching her studying his face as if she was waiting for him to start.

She was already starting to calm down.

He had that effect on her.

"then get ready pumpkin"

...

"what are you doing?" you murmured, watching your husband holding your sleeping daughter.

You had come looking for him when you realized his side of the bed was empty.

"I don't want to wake her up" he explained

You smiled as you took in the image.

He was watching her as if she was gonna disappear any second now.

Without a second thought, you pulled the other arm-chair in the room right beside the one Pedro was sitting on.

"What are you doing?"

"There's no way I'm letting you sleep here alone" 

He beamed as he watched you sit down next to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, his scent wrapping around you ever so quickly, as you both looked down at your daughter.

Tiny breaths were fleeing her tiny lips as she slept soundly.

"she's perfect" you smiled

"she is" he agreed, resting his own head on top of yours.

"I love you y'know?" he murmured, after a moment of silence "I love you two more than anything in this world"

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt and your heart threatened to burst.

"Me too honey" you promised "more than anything in this world"

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Chatterbox (M, cold, 'drabble')

A little prompt-based fluff for you guys :) Reed and Greyson go out to dinner, but Reed realizes something is up when Greyson won't shut tf up lol. I'm loving writing this relationship, I can't lie, so sorry if it's too much Reed and Greyson lately - I'll get back to my other guys soon!

1.6K words (just a tiny lil blip of a story haha) CW: Male snz, coughing, fever, contagion mention. Hope you like it :)

Chatterbox

Reed looked down at his phone as he waited on Greyson, rereading the stream-of-consciousness texts his boyfriend had sent throughout the day.

Greyson

1:42PM

sooo pumped for tonight bb :)

1:56PM

should I wear a suit…? I know it’s a new spot but the website definitely reads ‘fine dining’, like fine-er than most of my clothes know how to be...

2:24PM

I think I’ll do dark jeans & a black button up. johnny cash style. cant go wrong w that. hahah.

3:17PM

I know ur working still but im just really excited to see you:):)

It was cute – borderline adorable – how nervous Greyson seemed for their dates, even after almost a year of the two of them being together. Reed had, of course, answered Greyson’s plethora texts throughout the day, but had tried to keep himself subdued so he wouldn’t give away his hand; tonight, he was going to ask Greyson to move in with him.

He knew it was a bit of a long time coming, but Reed was really trying to keep from scaring Greyson off by doing anything too quickly. His boyfriend certainly had a bit of past-relationship trauma that Reed tried valiantly to navigate; it was hard to figure out what the right time to do anything was. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a right time to push their relationship to the next level. But things had been good lately; like, really good. Tonight felt… right.

Greyson’s presence was palpable before Reed even saw him blow through the door. He looked up from his phone and clocked his boyfriend, standing out side the restaurant with his elbow locked over his face; Reed cocked his head a bit, confused. Was he… coughing?

The chef, clad in the Johnny-Cash-getup he’d promised, shook himself out before pushing the door to the restaurant open. He pawed at his nose with the back of his hand while asking the hostess to point Reed out – she gestured towards their table, and Greyson smiled when the two of them locked eyes. Reed waved, smiling back. Something was certainly… off.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Greyson said, kissing the top of Reed’s head before sitting across from him. “The fuckin’ train was running late again.”

“I’ve told you a million times I’ll come pick you up for dates,” Reed said, squeezing Greyson’s hand across the table. “You don’t always have to take the train.”

Greyson shrugged, smiled a little loopily. “I like the train,” he said, picking up his menu and squinting at the small font. “Lots of time to think. I’ve come up with my best dishes on the subway, I’m pretty sure; you remember that tart I made for the writer’s dinner, the one where we saw each other for the second time? Came up with that on the train. I was sitting next to this girl, probably a student, and she was eating one of those little egg tarts, the ones from the Japanese bakeries? I thought, damn I bet a root vegetable in one of those would fuckin’ slay – spoiler alert, it so did. Where would I have come up with that if not for the train? Plus, it’s one of the most sustainable ways to travel. I get my good karma for not actively killing the environment in. Win-win. What’re we eat – HTSHH! NXTSHH!” Greyson’s explosion of word vomit was very suddenly cut off to stifle two painful-sounding sneezes into the back of his hand.

Reed blinked for what was maybe the first time since his boyfriend sat down. “...bless,” he said after a beat. Greyson nodded, sniffled a little, and picked the menu back up.

“What’s this place’s thing anyway?” Greyson continued, flipping the menu over to look at drinks. “I can’t seem to figure it out; are they Italian? Mediterranean? Fine dining? Just high-end? No tasting menu, but prices are high enough to warrant one. Wine list reads very Italian, but there are like three dishes with hummus on them? I’m half-expecting to be served babaganoush bolognese. Which… maybe would work? Actually, eggplant, tomato sauce… I could see it working. You never know. Can’t judge a book by its menu, right? What’re you drinking? Want to get a bot -?”

This second monologue was cut short when Reed reached across the table to place a gentle hand on Greyson’s face. Just as he expected: hot.

“Babe,” Reed said gently, taking his hand back, “you’re burning up.”

The chef cast his glance down, embarrassed. “You weren’t supposed to figure that out till after dinner,” he muttered. Reed laughed.

“Seriously? You had to know I’d figure something was up. You’ve been monologing since the moment you sat down. Have you been sick all day? You should’ve told me, honey. How much cough medicine did you take before you showed up here?”

Greyson looked up at Reed and gave him a little half-smile. “Pretty sure I downed half a bottle of Robutusssin, not gonna liiii – hh! HhNXTSHH-ue! Huh-TSHH-ue!” Once again, Greyson attempted to stifle, to no avail. He allowed himself two painful little coughs before righting himself again.

“Bless you,” Reed said again. “I wish you would just sneeze normal, that always sounds so painful.”

“We’re in a restaurant,” Greyson said, a huskiness beginning to creep in to his voice. “That’s so gross.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Who cares? No one’s looking at us. They’re too busy with their many, many hummuses.”

A laugh bubbled out of Greyson, and with it came a flurry of congested coughs he directed into the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t mbake me laugh,” he muttered, taking a drink of water. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Good,” Reed said, flagging the waiter. “I’m so sorry,” he said when the young, well-dressed server came to their table, “something’s come up and we’re going to have to go.” He handed the kid a fifty. “Thank you for your help.”

The server nodded, said thank you to Reed, and went to grab the two men’s jackets. Greyson raised an eyebrow, confused. “What’re you doing?”

“Taking you home,” Reed said. “You need tea and soup, not…” he glanced back down at the menu, “fattoush flatbread.” Greyson visibly deflated.

“I wanted to spend the evening with you,” he said, his voice subdued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called and canceled, I just… I mbiss you when we don’t see each other all week. You’re always busy, I’mb always busy, it just fucking sucks. I don’t even know how I got fucking sick… oh wait, yes I do. Elijah had a cold last week – was that last week? Did I tell you that? I can’t remember. I think the servers gave it to him. Fuckin’ servers, I’ve never met a group of people who get sick mbore than theehh – huh! Fuck – HUHETSHHH-ue! Huh-! HhITSZZZCH-ue!” Greyson folded in half, his torso practically beneath the table in an attempt to keep the entire restaurant from hearing him. It was, of course, at that moment that the server returned with their coats. Reed took them silently, and stood to gather his boyfriend, who slowly unfurled himself from his own lap.

“Bless you,” he said, gently helping Greyson to his feet and slipping his coat over his shoulders. He lead the two of them past the host stand and onto the sidewalk, where he turned Greyson to face him.

“First of all,” he said, sweeping Greyson’s hair out of his eyes and caressing his cheek, “I know a subset of people who get sick more than servers, and it’s chefs. You and all your chef buddies are pestilence incarnate because you work nine hundred hours a week.” This prompted a little laugh from Greyson. Perfect, thought Reed. Break the tension.

“Secondly, yes, you did tell me that Elijah was sick, and I told you, and I quote, ‘Don’t get too close, I know you two love to share a cold’, but I know you don’t like to listen to authority, so not sure what I expected.” Another laugh. Greyson pushed his hair back, rubbed his nose, and pulled Reed in to hug him. Reed continued from this spot, pressed into Greyson’s shoulder.

“And thirdly,” he said, “I miss you too. All the time. Which is why I asked you out tonight.” He pulled away, reached into his pocket, and dropped a key into Greyson’s palm. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want you to have to take the train from Brooklyn every single night, I don’t want us to hang out once a week, I don’t want to drop you at your apartment to take care of yourself. I want to see you when I wake up every morning. I want to hear you sneak in at three AM after you and Matt go clubbing. I want to take care of you, at home, when you’re sick.” Reed smiled, a little embarrassed, as Greyson stared at the key. “Move in with me,” Reed said. “Please.”

Greyson’s mouth opened, then shut without words a couple of times before he looked Reed in the eyes. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Okay. Yes. Yes, please.”

Reed felt a smile bloom on his face, huge, goofy, unashamed. He took Greyson’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Greyson held his boyfriend by the waist, then picked him up to spin him around. “I love you,” Greyson muttered into Reed’s mouth.

“I love you more,” Reed said, smiling. Greyson turned away then, suddenly to -

“HRRSHH-ue! HhhITSHZZCH-ue!” he sneezed away from his boyfriend, which prompted a laugh from Reed.

“Probably too late for that nicety,” Reed joked, elbowing Greyson playfully. The chef huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I figured sneezing directly into your face would probably kill the moment,” he said, sniffling. “But I’ll go ahead and just do it next time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Reed laughed, kissing Greyson again. “C’mon. Let’s get you home and in bed. Sickie.”

Greyson smiled a little. “Yeah,” he said, looping his arm into Reed’s. “Let’s go home.”

[blackdollette]

Hey i’ve never sent a request before and i’m a dumbass 😭 so feel free to ignore this if it’s not rlly your speed. Basically i just want some kinda hurt/comfort with Euronymous where he’s about to leave for a gig and the reader asks if he wants them to come and he tells them they should stay home and he’s doing it for her safety but she takes it as he’s embarrassed of her because she’s not like “Metal” and she has a breakdown while he’s gone about it and he comes back and sees her crying and comfort ensues (that’s prolly the dumbest thing that’s ever come out of my mouth i’m so sorry) anyway thank you so much!! No rush obviously i love your works so much and i’ve just been in need of this trope

thank you so much for the request, anon! my inbox is open to any other brilliant ideas that you want to share :))

"one for the money, two for the show." | euronymous

million dollar man. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @randyssister @wild-rose-35

female!reader x euronymous

word count: 1.1k

contents: a tiny bit of angst, mostly fluffy, soft euronymous

“alright, baby. i’m heading out.” euronymous’ voice called out from the bedroom. he walked into the living room where you were sprawled out on the couch, eyes now wide with curiosity as he grabbed his van keys from the holder of the front door.

“where are you going, euro?” you clicked the pause button on the tv remote, stopping the program that was currently playing. euronymous pulled on his leather boots, meeting your eyes as he began fidgeting with his keys.

“i… im off to a gig, doll.” you stood up from the couch, clearing up your area and making your way upstairs. “okay, just give me a few minutes to get dressed. i promise i won’t take long.” as you went up the stairs, you felt his hand gently take yours from behind. you looked back at him, his expression more grave than before. “about that, i think it would be best if you sat this one out.” his words were soft but edged with finality.

your face fell and you looked down. “y-you don’t want me to come to your show..?” euronymous stammered. “i-i just don’t know if this is gonna be your scene, angel. this is gonna be an intense show, and with my friends and all…” his voice trailed off and you began to put things together.

his friends. the same ones who’d sneer whenever he’d show up at gigs with his arm around your waist, you two looking like the oddest pair to ever walk the street. you had to credit euronymous for acting like he didn’t care, but it surely had to bother him at least a little bit. but you’d been so inconsiderate, tagging along with him everywhere he went and not even thinking about how he felt about it.

it was all hitting you like a ton of bricks. he was embarrassed to be seen with you. and you couldn’t even blame him for it either. you looked down at your light grey oversized hoodie, pastel-coloured pajama shorts, and white knee-high socks. you’d make him look like a complete joke showing up to another show with him. tears pricked your eyes as the realization sunk in, much to euronymous’ dismay.

he snaked an arm around your waist, looking at your face. “what’s wrong, baby?” he used his thumbs to gently wipe a tear trickling down your face as he pulled you in, pressing your body into the cold leather jacket on his body. you shook your head, sniffling. “n-nothings wrong.” you walked him back down the stairs, taking him back to the front door as you forced your voice to speak as clearly as possible. “i’m just awfully tired, that’s all. have a great show…” you went on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

he nodded, giving you a half smile as he opened the front door and walked out, shutting it behind him. then the floodgates broke open. you fell to your knees, starting to heave out sobs as you heard his van drive off. giant tears rolled down your cheeks as your mind flooded with all the times you had possibly embarrassed him or damaged his reputation. but he was so sweet and kind that he’d never even said a thing.

you began to spiral, making assumptions that were built on not a single drop of evidence. as the hours passed, you paced around the living room, thinking about the whole situation. you cried until your eyes were red and your lips were all puffy, making your way back to the couch and slumping onto it. you glanced at the clock, seeing that it had been 4 hours since he’d left.

whenever you were with him, you were out for a maximum of two hours, thanks to you and how quickly you’d get tired of all the buzz. he must have been having a blast, and you couldn’t stop the tears that cascaded down your face. minutes later, the front door unlocked and euronymous walked back inside holding a pastel pink box, skin glistening slightly with sweat. usually, you’d greet him at the door with a big hug but you wouldn’t dare do that right now.

he kicked off his boots walking into the living room and seeing your puffy crying face. his eyes widened and he put the box down on the coffee table, sitting down next to you. “oh my god, angel. are you alright? what happened? are you feeling sick, did someone come into the house?” you were bombarded by questions fueled by his concern, your guilt only growing more by the second.

you heaved out a heavy sigh, looking him right in his soft blue eyes. then you spoke, your voice coming out as a hoarse croak. “i’m sorry for embarrassing you, euro…” your words clearly surprised him, but you kept on talking. “i-i don’t want to force you to take me wherever you go. i just love being around you, b-but i understand if your friends don’t like me. i just don’t fit in with you...” you looked at the ground, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie as you felt his gaze on you. then without warning, both his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug. 

you froze, your heart hammering in your chest at this unexpected act of affection. you could feel his heavy breath against your neck, the sound of it stilling your nerves. after countless minutes he pulled away, hands resting on your shoulders as he looked at you with sad eyes. “my sweet, beautiful angel. i would never be embarrassed of you. i must be a damn awful boyfriend for making you think that in the first place.” he used his calloused fingers to wipe away your tears.

you took a good look at his face, finally noticing the several cuts on it that weren’t there before. you traced your finger along a long slit on his jaw, making him wince a little. he spoke, his voice even softer than before. “it was a really dangerous show tonight. there were glass bottles flying all over the place and fires everywhere. i thought of bringing you with me, but i just couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt out there.” 

you felt a wave of stupidity wash over you. so you had the wrong idea all along. euronymous chuckled slightly as your face lit up, picking up the pink box from the coffee table. “don’t you wanna know what’s in here?” he shook the box a little, making you fill with anticipation. he took off the lid, revealing a large slice of your favourite cake.

he brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. “i had to go all around town to find a bakery that was open at this hour. it took forever but here you go, baby.” your eyes welled with tears once more, but they were joyful instead of sorrowful. you wrapped your arms around his neck, peppering small kisses all over his face until he held your waist, connecting his lips to yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

author's note: yall should never ever have any doubts when sending me requests. I'm always in love with absolutely everything i get sent! (that follow my guidelines ofc)

[mouriros]

Roier being shaken from his Brooding and being in Misery session during a downpour by someone pounding on his door and once he opens it he's met with a Soaked, Freezing jaiden holding a little egg with a pancake hat. He does an up and a down and jaiden smiles awkwardly and asks 'Hey roier, could you please help me' and he stands there a little shocked before shifting back, letting her and the new baby in.

He gets them both a blanket (which the egg, named Empenada, only uses for a moment before looking fresh and dry) and sits down with jaiden and a cup on tea. As the water was heating up an even smaller egg poked an edge around the corner of the room and stole Empenada from their company.

Jaiden and Roier sit in silence for a minute, watching as the eggs share news and stories with way more emotion than someone whose entire being is just but an oval shell should be able to.

"So, you got one too?" Roier breaks the silence mid-Jaiden-sip and she responds, "Apparently."

"She's cute. Her hats so adorable," and Jaiden replies "yeah," with a laugh. There's a beat before she adds "yours seems... um,"

"I don't know actually. I love Pepitos shirt, the stripes are super silly. Um, thanks for taking me in by the way." Jaiden's words come out mumbled, kind of pushed together and rushed, like she's horrified of taking up too much space. Like she isn't used to it.

Roier can't really add any more descriptive words. "Yeah, Pepito's.. fine, I guess." And he says, "I don't think I'm ready to- be a parent, you know. Again. To someone new."

There's a small silence, where Jaiden picks up her cup and sips from it, and holds it up to her nose to warm it up. "Me neither."

The silence prevails. Jaiden picks her eyes up from her tea and joins Roier in people-(egg)-watching the two kids chat and play and run. They watch as Pepito takes a fall and Empenada goes and helps Pepito up, and then they run off again.

"I really tried to love her." Jaiden starts, "At first it just sounded scary, and then I thought, 'well it can't be that difficult, I mean, everyone else already loves her', and so I told Tina that 'sure I'd Love to spend an entire day with Empenada alone together, sounds lovely, and then- it just-" Jaiden waves her hand about a bit, doing circles with her wrist and trying to put something she can't speak into a language that doesn't use words.

A language Roier understands. He sighs, his entire body expanding and then collapsing as he does. "I think I hated Pepito at first."

"Pepito's great, don't get me wrong. The egg did nothing wrong. It's just, like- all of Pepito's other parents eggs are Dead. Dead Dead. Like funeral dead, like code dead. Bobby- he's- ... he's still right here, sometimes."

Roier let's his words hang, gives Jaiden an exit, but he doesn't even have to look her way to know she's looking his way, eyes full of understanding.

"I'm basically Pepito's only parent right now, so he's also living with me. You know how weird it is to live with an egg again? How weird it is teaching an egg how to hold a sword properly, hearing tiny footsteps and tinier sniffles, doing daily tasks, and how weird it is to do it all Again?"

"Bobby was my only one. I know saying Pepito isn't my son is as cruel as I can be, but it's just not fair that anyone thought I could ever be a Father again. No one else should be calling me Papa. I don't think I want anyone else to call me Papa"

Roier can't even tell he's crying until Jaiden gets up to receive paper towels for him. When she returns, she pulls her own chair next to Roiers, holding out the roll of paper towels intended for a kitchen and running her scarred hand over his back.

He sniffs his nose and wipes his cheeks off with the back of his sleeve.

"Sometimes I wish it had been anyone but Bobby."

Roier whips his head up, looking at Jaiden who's looking at the eggs again.

"Like- okay, I don't wish anyone else had gone through what we did. I don't think it was humane, but I just wish that- you know. I wish that anyone else went through that instead of us. I miss him every day, and some days it's like just a fact, you know. I just look at an egg running around and think 'I miss Bobby' like I'd call the sky blue

but some days it's so much. Some days I watch Fit and Ramon building something together or Sunny and Tubbo bickering and I have to go home because all I want to do is scream and cry and tear down everything I see."

Jaiden gulps. Her eyes are still dry, but her hands are shaking and she feels as breathing becomes a task to focus on.

"I miss our family so much, Roier. And some days I think if Cucurucho told me if I killed every single egg on quesadilla island for the Chance to be teleported back and have 12 hours with Bobby and you and a field of flowers and birds and sunshine I'd do it. I'd learn Spanish until it became a second mother tongue, I'd sell every organ I have, I'd do anything at all for a chance."

Roier has to wipe his eyes again.

"I don't want to be a mother Roier. I can't do this, not without you. Not for anyone but Bobby."

They sit in a silence surrounded by small laughs and the patting of running feet. Roier's eyes stay fixed on Jaiden as she looks straight ahead, her entire body shaking and lip quivering. Roier puts his hand on her knee.

"I love you."

And she leans her head on his, and her wings fall limp behind her, and the light in the room starts shifting to a soft orange.

"I miss you, Roier."

"I'll always be here."

"But I think I miss a you that died when Bobby did."

"I do too, Jaiden."

"I love you too."

[dirtytransmasc]

TW: VERY DARK AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT (kind of)

Prompt :

He was six

Norm found him with his wrist slit

“Why’d you do this kiddo?”

“I wanted to get rid of the demon blood”

Jakes reaction

Neytiri stitched him up with an unreadable expression

IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMY

I UNDERSTAND, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE THIS IF ITS TO DARK!!!😭

oh my fucking god... it hurts so bad, but its so good. I love dark angst, there aren't many places I won't go, so have no worries anon.

head the trigger warnings above, I don't get super graphic, but I don't skid over any details either. disclaimer, mama!neytiri brain worms are liquefying my brain, so this is a little (a lot) neytiri-centric, cause I can't help it, its the worms I swear.

also, there are like 0 resources on na'vi medicine, so I'm just fucking winging it man, I'm gonna pull some shit out of my literal ass and we're all gonna have to just be ok with that. ~~~

norm wishes he could say he was shocked, surprised that this little boy wanted to hurt himself, let alone went through with it. he should have been gutted, more than he was at least, angry, put off, something. but not that its happened, he saw it from a mile away, he should have noticed, should have stopped it. all he felt was guilt, burning up his heart and knotting up his stomach as he put pressure on spiders tiny wrists, holding his lulling body in his arms. spider was just a kid, a baby, but he's muttering about 'getting rid of demon blood' and 'not belonging' and it being 'better off' if he was gone. it was somehow worse in his childish wording, his perfect innocence and naivety only just beginning to crack as the pain in his little chest began to swell.

it had been the odd quietness from spider's 'room' back in the cave marui's that alerted him to something being wrong. spider was quiet, in a way; when he was out playing with the kids he was loud, laughing, face filled with light and joy, even if something cold still glinted in his eyes. but when he was on his own, having been left behind or told off by some adult, human or na'vi alike, for getting in the way, he would sulk off to the little marui by the shack. but even if he would sit amongst himself, playing with the few figures someone had put time aside to make, attempting to weave a new piece of jewelry or basket, mending the sad little knife he wore on his side. he was always doing something, could be heard humming or sniffling, the sound of his knife on the wetstone or the clunking of wooden figures on each other were a constant. so when norm heard nothing but silence, his gut ticked up, the hair on his neck bristled, his legs carried him much farther they would on the average day until he was staring at spider and his little bloody arms and his little bloody knife and his sad little eyes.

it took only a split second for norm to come back to himself, to rush and pick the boy up before he had enough 'sense' to try and back away (spider never wanted trouble, never wanted to get in the way or be a burden, the fact he didn't try and hide worried norm more then it would of if he did, which was even more concerning in its own right).

he just held spider as tight as he could, his big blue hands easily covering his human wrists, trying to think of what he should do. he should say something, other then "its ok" but what does he say? what do you say to a six-year-old who just tried to kill himself, no, no, "get rid of the demon blood" coursing through his veins?

he wasn't going to lecture him, spider made it clear why he did it, comfort wasn't his strong suit. he could just look at his puffy little cheeks, one side of his mask blooded as he had attempted to wipe his cheek on instinct. so he just repeated a mantra of "I'm here" and "it's ok" and "your ok" until he reached the infirmary, trying to prtend he didn't feel spider slipping further and further away with each passing second.

in the flash of just a few seconds fueled by adrenaline alone, he knew he regretted everything. he was spider's caretaker sure, but he was no father, jake wasn't either, and the boy didn't have a single maternal figure to his name. no mother to kiss his brow at night or admire his accomplishments. he had no one, not truly, and norm allowed to happen, was not only complicit in it, but played a direct role in it. now he may not get to make that up, may not be given the chance to step up, to fix this.

he carried spider to the infirmary hut, knowing he would find someone, anyone, there who could help. part of him knew that mo'at had seen something in the child that brought some sort of pity from her, that maybe just this once, spider wouldn't be so alone in her presence.

when he entered the pod, he found mo'at showing neytiri something, explaining different herbs to her, though he didn't pay enough attention to it the lesson to pull out any identifying features of the herbs in question. both turned to look at him when they heard his rapid breathing, their gaze then shifting to the bloody boy in his arms, the ever-so-faint fogging of the glass that made up most of his exopack, and the ghostly parlor of spider's skin.

"put him down," mo'at commanded, before norm could even speak, clearing her pallet in an instant, "what happened to him?" her voice was firm, almost knowing.

"he...cut himself...intentionally...I don't know how long ago, but I found him in his pod alone and brought him right here."

"intentionally?" neytiri hissed, removing the boy from his arms when he couldn't get himself to comply with the order and holding him so she could listen to the weakening beat of his heart. she tied turniquotes around his upper forearm with the strands of clothing handed to her by her mother, absent-mindedly rocking the little thing where he rested held between her free-er arm and her chest, when the last bits of his consciousness were directed to fussing, no doubt from the pain. she couldn't bring herself to bind them too tight, just enough to control the bleeding, her hands and a bit of cloth could handle the rest.

(mo'at almost lectured her, but she saw that look in her daughter's eyes and knew it would be pointless, a mama bear gets what she wants)

norm had never seen the protective fire in her eyes, normally directed at her children, burn so bright for spider in the last few years she had known him. it scared him, it felt so unnatural that the very gaze he had learned to trust in most cases, froze him like a deer in headlights.

but that question, the tone of it, made his gut sink. how did he explain this, spider was just a baby, and he had slit his own wrists. that on its own was gut-wrenching, but the reason? Eywa have mercy.

"he said... he said he wanted to get rid of his demon blood, so he... he used his own knife and cut his wrists... its a common form of self harm back on earth, to cut yourself, but I don't even know how he would know to do that, why he would do it... I know why, but..." norm felt defeated. he should have seen something.

the look on neytiri's face made him want to tuck his tail between his legs and run off. she placed spider down as gently as one could, face scrunched up with pain and anger as she keeps pressure on both of spider's wrists.

"get jake, he is with the young hunters." she spoke quietly, her voice almost bitter. she didn't know if she blamed him, if she was angry with him, she barely understand how to feel about spider harming himself. all she knew is that he had just given her some of the most heartwrenching news she had heard in her life, so he was getting some of her mirth. norm nodded, racing off with his tail tucked between his legs, only hesitating to take another worried glance at the boy.

neytiri took a deep breath before turning to her mother. "he will need stitches, right?" she had never dealt with an injury quite like this before, the conscious effort in the wound made it clean and to the point, unlike a wound in battle. it strived to do quick, efficient damage, and now, either because she could barely let herself think straight, or because she genuinly didn't know, she couldn't think of the best way to treat it.

"yes, my daughter, but that is the least of his worries. he cut a large vein, those are very difficult to mend, stopping the bleeding will be difficult. he's already lost quite a bit of blood, so we need to be careful. the best thing would be to put a root paste to help clot the bleeding, wrap it up, and stitch it later." mo'at turned to her morter and pestle as she spoke, mixing different herbs, berries, and roots into a dark brown, almost purple, paste.

neytiri, nodded absently, while she picked through the basket at her side for bundles of lumped fibre and soft cloth to hold against his arms. luckily for him, while he did manage to do some damage and with the help of the tourniquets, one wrist had already stopped bleeding a fair bit, and the other was manageable.

in the silence of the hut, her mother working quietly behind her, turning every once and a while to check his breathing or giving her a tincture to clean his wounds with, neytiri was left to think.

demon blood.

he had done this because of the words she and so many spat at the sight of him. he had tried to rid himself of his sins, the sins of his father, the sins of his people; but were they really his to begin with? what had he done, in his six years of life, to have earned the hate he received? was the blood he carried in his veins enough to justify pushing a child to this?

no, she decided, no it was not.

seeing him so pale and lifeless in norms arms woke something in her, something deep in her gut, maternal rage coursing through her with something vicious, and even if she didn't deserve it after all she had done to him, pushed him to do, her heart was attempting to claim his as her own, and she didn't know what to do with that feeling. then she realized, that the maternal drive that prowled in her stomach like a thanator ready to pounce, not only saw the world as a threat, but saw her as a threat.

her mother handed her the salve and she was grateful for anything to do to take her mind off of the few revelations she managed to have while waiting.

"put more of the salve where the bleeding is stronger, then wrap it tight, be careful to not make it so tight it takes off his hand." the older woman guided, watching over her daughters work.

neytiri scooped it out bit by bit, slowing rubbing it onto the wounds while her mother blotted away the blood, her ears dipping whenever the boy his with pain or tried to pull away. she just wanted to make him better, to take him up into her arms and tell him it was alright like she would if he was one of her own children. but she knew she couldn't, he would wake up and see the monster who filled his little mind with such awful thoughts of himself, that he would be just as scared of her as he always was, and that she could bring him no comfort. so he was extra gentle as she finished off the paste, and held him like delicately as she wrapped the bandage around his wrists, gushing him gently each time he cried out, combing back his hair when she felt she was finished.

then jake came barreling in, breaking up the delicate silence that for a single second allowed her to believe it was just a normal day, that the new found fantasy of just being able to mother this child was true, that allowed spider to lay in peaceful sleep with her shawl over him. norm was trying to hush him, before he woke the baby, but there was no stopping jake, not when his face was full of pain and anger, looking as if he would plow down a titanothere just to get to spider.

neytiri knew jake had taken to spider more than he had let on, but the beast in her belly screamed that he hadn't done enough either, that he didn't earn the right to worry either. but she hushed it, knowing neither had the right to claim anything, not even over each other.

"ma'jake, quiet, or you will wake him and... he will be in pain. so let him sleep while he can," she attempted to soothe quietly, resisting every urge to just scoop him up when jakes loud entry did in fact stir him.

jake sat across from her, his hand resting on spider's chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of the boy's chest. "did he really?" he asked, eyes begging for her to tell him it wasn't true. she knew he would much rather hear of a freak accident over this, but she couldn't give him that mercy.

"yes, it would seem so." her voice was short, worn, despite barely saying a word this whole time.

jake crumpled a little, much more on the inside then he attempted to let show on the outside. neytiri was used to it, jake dealing with it all on the inside, bottling it up till he burst. she placed her hands over his, both of them being reassured by spider's breathing.

"but he is still here, we can and will help him. we will make sure he never feels this way again. I will right my wrongs, I will treat him as he has always deserved, and I hope one day he can forgive me. you will do the same. for now we just have to wait." she spoke gently, still worried about waking spider. she was partly talking to herself, making the promise she had worked her mind to final, she swore it on eywa. she saw jakes eyes finally close, knocking the tears he had been fighting to keep in down his cheeks.

he nodded, slumping into a lazy, defeated-looking, criss-cross position, talking spider's little hand in his, using the wet cloth from mo'at to clean the blood from his finger, the calloused palms of his hands, his muscle-toughened arms.

jake was no stranger to this, to harming yourself, even if he had never taken a blade to his wrists. trying to imagine that pain in such a little body terrified him. how was he supposed to wrap his head around little spider, the stray cat amongst the village, always smiling and laughing, always trying to help everyone, always up in trees or tussling with his kids, his blonde hair like streaks of the sun running about the village, battling such demons. he tried to imagine what he must have been feeling when he took his knife to his wrist. was he scared? relieved? confused? was he desperate and looking for a way out?

no, no norm said that spider wanted to get rid of his "demon blood" which as somehow more nauseating. it was their faults, him, norm, neytiri, The People. they hurt this child or they let it happen. they expected him to take every glare, every spit of acid, everything he was forced to endure, and to still remain a happy child. jake never once stopped to think what effect that may have on him, and now he was paying for it.

he ached, spider was small, he could fit in jakes hands even at 6 years old. he was drowning in neytiri's shawl even if on her, it would barely cover her upper arms, he had just started fitting his exopack a little less than a year ago. he was still just a baby, and they almost let his life end. had norm not found him, he would be dead, still and cold in his makeshift marui, in a pool of his own blood. the image that accompanied the thought that flashed in his made him feel sick. even with all that he denied feeling about the boy, no matter how hard he tried to push him away, no matter what he let him go through, the thought of spider dying, especially like that, alone and scared and in pain, terrified him. to have a child die for any preventable reason, was a disgrace on The People, especially their chief of all people.

chief.

he should have been the example. he should have led his people to find love for a defenseless child who wanted only to be loved and accepted. he had failed.

he let a finger caress the side of spiders face, along the edge of spider's mask, lightly pulling at the curly baby hairs that rested there,

"will he be alright?" he didn't know who he was asking, norm or mo'at. both would have very different opinions, norm more literal, mo'at more spiritual. he didn't know which he wanted.

"physically, yes. he is lucky, his blade was simple, his hand faltered, and he didn't seem to have a death wish. he didn't do too much damage, its manageable. emotionally jakesuli? time will tell." mo'at was the one to speak, the look on norms face spoke the his fear of setting neytiri off like he almost had earlier.

neytiri looked to her mother with a pain expression, her tail beating nervously where is laid near spiders head, ears still folded back.

"his mind is plauged with pain and desperation, things no child should even be aware of. he was driven to harm himself, in ways that will be permanent. it will be our actions going forward that determine his future. I fear if we do not undo the damage now, we will lose him in the years to come... what I fear more and that the damage has been done and cannot be undone. we can only hope for the former/"

neytiri damn near let out a cry, turning from her mother, eyes clenched as tears welled up in them. she found jakes arms, both leaning over spider like a makeshift shelter. just like they should have his whole life, they should have shielded him from the world, protected him from the hate of others. spider stirred once more, and this time jake couldn't resist the urge to scoop him up.

spider looked up at both of them, his little eyes tired and glossy, something small and painful in his gaze. he began to wiggle out of jakes hold, balling up nervously, but when neytiri grazed fingers through his hair, he stopped. this was the one thing he had ever wanted, deep down. not to be accepted, not to be one with the people, not even to be na'vi. he just wanted to be held, loved, by a mother, any mother. with his judgment too clouded by all his emotions, the desperation, the pain, even the blood loss, and maybe and even simpler reason being just being a child; spider let her hold him. he couldn't think about her years of neglect, the harsh words, and harsher glares, not in that moment, that could come later. right now, he needed a mother, and neytiri was willing, so he sunk into her hold, welcoming the embrace of either parent.

the road to spider's recovery would be long and hard. jake and neytiri had a lot to make up for, to apologize for, holding onto their guilt for years as they waited for spider to reach an age were their apologies would actually mean something to him. he would have to be watched constantly, habits would be broken, tears would be cried. things would never be 100%, there would always scars and phantom pain, but that was ok.

~~~

a note for my regulars; I'm back, maybe sorta kinda. I've hit a rough patch with my adhd, I can't do thoughts, or social interaction really, but I'm starting to bounce back, so more regular posting may return shortly.

[marvelfanfics1]

daddy loki request!

Could you do one where little one is feel really little and tired after a Mission or something of your choice and loki is in his little office room and little one go around the whole tower trying to find him and gets more aggravated every time she can’t find him ?

I love your little reader work so much!!!

Only Need Daddy

(GIF not mine)

Pairing: daddy!Loki x little!Avenger!reader

Warnings: Age Regression, just fluff

A/n: I'm glad you like 'em!

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒ 

The moment you walked out of the jet you felt how your littlespace kicked in, the mission you just finished together with Natasha, Clint, and Peter had exhausted you and all you wanted at the moment was to be held by your daddy.

You went to your shared room, frowning a little when Loki wasn't there to greet you like he always does, and changed yourself into more comfortable clothes that suited your headspace.

You grabbed your favorite stuffie from the bed and started to search for Loki desperately.

First, you went to the library area of the tower where he usually was but couldn't find him there, then you thought maybe he was doing some workout with Thor but only saw Bucky and Steve doing some combat practice.

"Hey, little doll." the brunette smiled when he noticed you standing by the door, nibbling at your nails. "What you doing here all alone?"

"Where's daddy?"

The soldiers looked at each other, both shrugging and Steve turned to you with a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry sweets, we don't know where he is. Maybe he's in the common room?"

You nod and made your way to the common area but yet again were disappointed when he wasn't there.

You grew more restless and it got to a point where you started sniffling when you couldn't find him anywhere.

You were about to pass Thor on your way back to your room but he stopped you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"What's troubling you, tiny one?" he asked concerned, you were feeling too little to give him a proper answer and just mumbled out a small. "Dada..."

Nothing else had to be said and Thor took your hand, leading you to the only room you haven't checked, Loki's office. He rarely uses it and when he did it was while you were on missions, on playdates with Kate and Peter, or out with Natasha and Wanda.

Thor opens the door for you and pats your head two times, going to what he planned to do before he found you.

Loki turned around with his chair and smiled when he saw you rushing towards him, letting you wrap your arms around him before helping you sit on his lap.

"Hello, little one. You came back earlier than I expected..." he trailed off when he heard your sniffles. "What's wrong?"

You just shook your head, clinging more onto him and Loki started to rub your back in a manner to calm you down.

"It's alright, you don't have to say anything. Daddy's here now" he whispered in your ear, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and moving your head to lay it on his shoulder.

He stayed with you like that for a while until you were half asleep and stood up with you wrapped around him and got to your bedroom to take a nap with you.

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒ 

Taglist

@marvelsguantletkeeper @my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @st3rgirl @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 ꒱ 김정우

summary : you're bummed that it was raining, but your boyfriend always knows how to cheer you up

genre : little angst, fluff, jungwoo x afab!reader, drabble tws : angst (tiny bit in the beginning), language, kiss author notes : sorry my stories are going to be short and sporadic until i finish school next month word count : 0.7k

you looked out your balcony doors with a pout on your face. you had taken a shower almost two hours ago now, putting on makeup, and doing your hair. you smoothed over the floral sundress you bought last winter when you were so excited for it to finally be spring. and now that it was, you planned a picnic for you and your boyfriend, however it hadn’t stopped raining for three days. and the during the short moments it did, the sky was overcast.

of course, your boyfriend didn’t mind having a movie night with takeout (maybe he’d even convince you to netflix and chill) but you weren’t in the mood for something you and him did all the time — you wanted to warm your skin in the sun, taking, giggling, and eating.

not be condemned to your apartment because of the stupid rain.

you felt discouraged, and honestly a little depressed. this entire morning you had willed the clouds to clear up, knowing this was the only day between your boyfriends busy schedule that you two could do something other than after midnight; it seemed that recently you only got to see him if he was sleeping next to you, and it was getting a little underwhelming.

you loved him; seeing him enjoying himself on stage and during variety shows was the highlight of your day. you just wished that once in a while you could pretend that you two were the only people on planet earth, and that nothing could ever go wrong if he was by your side. that he was only yours and you didn’t have to share him with literally millions of people.

“hey baby, it’s okay…” his arms wrapped around your mid-section, locking together in the front. you pouted further, feeling him nozzle into your neck and press light kisses. “we can do other things today, it’s not like our time together is limited.”

“but, that’s just it, isn’t it?” everything added up had taken its toll and now the tears swelled with your heart, “you’re always busy — i-i’m always alone. i miss you, you know? i just wanted a sweet little date with you, but it seems like the universe hates me too!”

he paused any and all movements, “too?” suddenly, your back was no longer pressed against his chest; your eyes, full of tears, meeting his. “do you think i hate you, my love?”

you sniffled, “n-no! that’s not what i meant. i’m just — i miss you all the time — it’s we only ever see each other at night. i love watching you live out your dream, but i want a place in that too, even if just a little.”

“i know you wanted this to be perfect,” his lips pressed to your forehead, causing your eyes to close and a couple of the stray tears (you’d been holding back) to fall. “but, i already think it is. i think you are, and everything you do and put up with. i love you, don’t forget it, okay? you’re my dream, everything else can come second.”

you nodded, looking up at your puppy-like boyfriend, a wide smile now plastered across his face.

“besides, we already have everything,” he broke from you, walking over to the couch and taking the remote from the cushion. you watched curiously as he turned the tv on and searched ‘swaying grass’ on youtube. “and now we’re outside; sunny, breezy! see, y/n. it’s not all bad.”

he took your hand within his, motioning you into his chest for a hug, voice close to your ear, “besides, as much as i love that dress, not everyone needs to.”

you swatted his chest as he laughed in your your direction, “shut up.” you cracked a smile, and he looked at you adoringly.

as cringey as you found it, if all the stars went dark, you knew he’d be the only thing that’d light your way. the love you held for him was indescribable, and you never dared try in fear of not doing it justice. jungwoo knew you inside and out, every fiber on your body had been carved to his memory — he cherished the ground you walked on, loved what you found imperfect.

you really had found the perfect person for you to live out your fairytale with.

he smirked, cocking his head to the side, “there’s my girl,” he stated at your upturned lips, you about melting into the carpet at his words, “now, let’s go on that picnic date, okay?”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

[stvharrngton]

Hi! So context for the request… I started new job at the end of last year and generally I love it but the past two months have been incredibly stressful and then last week we were understaffed, had an internal review and I was left to do the job of three people and not a single supervisor has thanked me for holding down the fort that day AND making lunch AND cleaning it up. And I’m feeling very under appreciated, like to the point where I feel like im no good at my job or even liked. So to the ask, how would steve handle a significant other who is feeling this way and is shutting down about it? I’d be really grateful if you could right something around this bc I just need my comfort character to hold me rn ….

hi my love! i’m so sorry to hear that about your job that sucks so much :( i really hope you enjoy this and it makes you feel a lil better 💝

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none really, burnt out!reader, soft comfort boyfie steeb

taglist: @dukesmebby @saturnband @sweetbabygirlsworld

The sound of the front door of your apartment slamming back against its hinges disturbed Steve from his busy task at the stove. The wooden spoon almost clattering back into the pan with a clang, his eyebrows pinched together as he peered over his shoulder at you.

Steve was concerned. You were never one for slamming doors or loud noises so when he turned round to face you, your slumped shoulders and the defeated look on your face said it all.

Ringing his hands on a dish towel he made his way over to you, comforting palms placed on your forearms as Steve bent at his knees to get a better look at you.

“Everything okay, baby?” He asked, voice all soft and quiet, barely above a whisper.

You could only respond with a half-hearted shrug, sad eyes not able to meet Steve’s warm, inviting one’s. You wanted nothing more than for this day to end, another shitty day at work to top it all off.

Steve’s hands moved to your face then, fingers tucking a stray strand behind your ear, his thumb stroking across your cheek. He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched your eyes grow teary.

“Hey,” Steve cooed, “hey, what’s wrong, huh? You can tell me. Is it work?”

Steve had a feeling, a sinking suspicion you’d had yet another bad day at your job, another day of doing more than they pay you for, another day of not being thanked. He wished you would just leave, find somewhere you’d be appreciated more but Steve knew it wasn’t that simple.

There was no convincing you, he knew that, so Steve would let you rant. He would let you get all your anger out, he’d give you his shoulder to cry on, rub your back and stroke your hair until your sobs turned into sniffles.

Sometimes you didn’t want to talk, your mind too foggy and your eyes too heavy. A night spent in Steve’s arms on your couch, limbs tangled whilst his lips pressed soft kisses against your hairline, the movie on the TV simply serving as background noise outside your bubble.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“You wanna talk about it, sweetheart?” Steve had since pulled you into his chest, the dinner he was prepping long forgotten about. His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders in a bone crushing hug.

You shook your head against the material of your boyfriend’s polo, the fabric scratching against your already hot cheek. The tears you’d be holding in were now threatening to spill over your lashes, dampening Steve’s t-shirt.

“Okay,” he whispered, his head now resting against your own as you both stood wrapped around one another in your kitchen, “can you tell me what you need? Can you do that for me, baby?”

He knew he had to tread lightly here, gently trying to coax a response from you in this state but his need for you to understand that he was there for you no matter what was immense. In whichever way you needed, it didn’t matter to Steve. All that mattered in these moments was how he could make you feel a tiny bit better.

So you nodded timidly, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling over. A quiet sniffle heard from your nose muffled by Steve’s chest.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, “can we shower? And then just get into bed?” Chin resting against his firm chest now, you blinked up at your boyfriend with big, wet doe eyes. A look that Steve could never say no to.

Steve let his lips rest against your temple before bringing them to your forehead. A final squeeze to your shoulders as he spoke,

“A shower and cuddles in bed coming right up,” Steve uttered with a light tone and a soft smile tugging at his lips, “anything for my girl.”

The mirror began to steam up as the water warmed, Steve not letting you move an inch as he undressed you and showered you in sweet kisses all over your skin. He couldn’t help let the gentle smirk that graced his features when you asked him to step inside with you.

Hot water cascaded down your bodies as the tension of the day left your shoulders, the heavy burden slowly being lifted. Steve’s hands wandered your body as your head rested against his chest, eyes closed, just letting the water and your boyfriend soothe you.

You washed each other’s hair, the artificial scent of strawberries filling your noses, a chuckle bouncing off the glass as Steve grinned at the content noises escaping your lips as he massaged your scalp.

“That feel good, baby?” he asked with a swift peck to your cheek, a toothy grin on his face as a soft smile threatened to tug at your lips.

Hair and bodies washed, Steve held you in the shower a little longer. His hand rubbing up and down your naked back soothingly, a kiss pressed to your hairline before he switched the water off, mumbling something about how he doesn’t want you both to turn into prunes.

You were wrapped up in a fluffy towel before you could complain about the chill, favourite pyjamas in hand as Steve fluffed the towel around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you into bed, pretty girl, come on.” Steve urged before swooping you up in his strong arms, laying you down on the soft sheets. You immediately curled into his side the moment he pulled the comforter over you.

You let him wrap your arms around you tightly, his head resting against yours as he drew soft shapes lightly on your arm. You heard Steve sigh quietly as his eyes scanned the ceiling whilst he thought through what he was going to say.

“You know you can talk when you’re ready, honey,” Steve began, his fingers continued softly against your arm, “but you know you can just leave that shitty job, right?”

An exhale pushed its way past your nostrils, not in discontent but it was just difficult. You loved your job, you did but it was just tough going lately. You were burnt out and feeling under-appreciated and yeah, it was taking its toll on you.

Steve knew this, of course he did, but he just wanted to look after you, to make sure you were happy.

“How ‘bout you come work at Family Video with me and Robin?” He asked, a grin toying at his lips, “Come on, it’d be a breeze and we’d get to spend all day, every day together. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

A playful smile crept its way onto your features, one that Steve couldn’t see in the dark of his room but one he could feel. Steve let his fingers wander to your ribs, pads threatening to dig into your soft skin.

“Plus, Keith would love having a smokin’ hot girl like you around the place.”

You smacked his shoulder as you scoffed, “Steve, you are not pimping me out to your creepy boss so you can get an easy ride.”

Steve laughed loudly, a sound that rumbled in his stomach up to his chest, “‘M joking, baby. I wouldn’t do that to you. But you know I’m here for you, right? Whatever my girl needs, whenever she needs it.”

You sighed into his chest, a small content noise that filled out the room. Steve pulled you in impossibly closer, as if to offer more reassurance.

“Forever and always?” You asked, voice quiet.

“Forever and always.” Steve replied with a kiss to your forehead before you fell asleep in his arms.

[hearted-anon]

Perfect gift

Words: 1.4k Note: I want to write lee changbin. THEIR SMILES HELLO? T/w: No restraints, but it is intense..a bit of sad before happy Lee: Jisung Ler: Channie

Tears welled up in Jisung's eyes, his pupils widening as they focused on the sight in front of him. The cheesecake that he grasped in his hands, decorated prettily even with tiny strawberries at the side to display how sweet their leader was, almost toppled over when he saw the oldest still hyper-fixated onto his computer. Today was Chan's birthday, no surprise to the members as they decorated the cake with candles beautifully lit to make the word '52', suggested by none other than the puppy himself to get a laugh from their leader who worked tirelessly day and night for them to succeed and pull through to what they were today.

But apparently it was a surprise to the birthday man himself.

"Hyung, why are you alone?" The quokka waddled over slowly, sniffling as he grasped the birthday cake tightly in his hands, struggling to see the expression of his leader's face with his eyes completely clouded with tears. He didn't understand, the one day Bangchan gets a break from the endless and tiring loop from never ending work, bending and breaking his back over and over for his members, just to not stop the cycle and work on a come back? The one day stray kids knew the leader would be happy, was spent in a studio ensuring things were going to go smoothly, isolated into a lonely room where his thought echoed eerily instead of being out with them, it shattered his heart.

"Sung? What's wrong?" Chan's eyes widened as he saw the teary eyed ace, immediately grabbing the delicious cheesecake he eyed for a moment before cuddling the boy in his arms. He was oblivious, of course he was, submitting to the world of his musicality before anything else to realise what was happening. His heart wrenched with guilt, squeezing the quokka tightly in his arms as he desperately tried to comfort him through all the confusion that wracked his brain to pieces.

"You're working alone...on your birthday..." Jisung mumbled softly, looking up at Chan with those shiny, teary eyes that never failed to melt and break his heart in two. In mere milliseconds the leader babbled and pleaded apologies, snuggling the boy close and placing about a million chaste kisses to those full cheeks, making the quokka flush and shy away from the sudden affection that overwhelmed. That was unfair, it was the older's birthday, and here he was being spoiled after crying for his leader too, he didn't want to seem needy.

"Hyung! Stop pampering me, it's your birthday, enjoy the gifts outside and the delicious cake we have for you.." The younger squeaked out, trying to squirm his way out of the warm hug that the kangaroo was persistent on keeping him hostage in. Bangchan pouted when Jisung eventually did manage to slip away from his tight grasp, shaking his head and whining like a baby when Han tried his best to convince the leader to even try the cake.

Letting out a groan, the quokka slumps down to his knees, feeding himself a spoon of the cheesecake they worked so hard to bake. His eyes lit up, it tasted absolutely delicious, the sweet treat tempting him to try more as he stared hungrily at the cake. Chan, being the curious baby leader he was, wobbled over to the cake, staring at the candles. It took him a moment to realise what the candles spelt out, his look of curiosity quickly turning into mischievous as he snapped his head to Jisung.

"Han Jisung, want to explain why the candles spell out '52'?" Chan smiled innocently, walking over to the quokka who was quick to try and scramble away watching the leader hold his arms so outstretched towards him. Curse Seungmin, now the blame was all on him! Eventually, the younger was cornered against the wall, shaking his head and sputtering out apologies in a hurry despite having not even done anything, he just didn't want whatever the leader was planning to punish him with.

"Remember when you said you had a gift for me? I have the perfect idea of what I want." Bangchan chuckled lowly before lunging directly at Han, who screamed bloody murder as he tried to get away from the older's clutches. Alas, he wasn't strong enough, his arms eventually giving out and letting himself be dragged away to what he thought were the pits of hell itself, it really just was the couch where Chan continued to seemingly innocently cuddle the younger, who had his back pressed against the kangaroo's chest.

That was until he felt a cold breeze hit his tummy to realise it was too late to stop the inevitable. With a loud squeal he crashed back into the older's chest, feeling an unbearable tingling sensation as he felt nails clawing gently and squishing at his doughy tummy, making him screech and cackle. The quokka tried his best to push at the kangaroo's hands to no avail, it made him regret eating all the cheesecake batter from before.

"HYUHUHUHNG! WHY?! P-PLEAHAHAHA!" The younger wails out, kicking his feet in the ticklish agony which only brought him closer into Chan's chest, making him chuckle lowly.

"You're going to be my gift, since I'm 52 this year, why not we go with 52 minutes? Hm?" Bangchan coos softly right into Jisung's ear, making him squeak and shudder away at the warmth breath. His eyes cracked open in surprise at the words he just heard, 52 minutes of this?! Han prayed that his funeral would be ready once this was over as the words rang soundly in his ears.

Another squeal tore his throat when those long nails found their way to the little blob of fat he had that curled cutely when he sat, kneading, scribbling and poking around the area. Now he knew why Changbin screeched whenever the members went around the area to be a reminder of how adorable he was (hint..), it drove the poor quokka absolutely ballistic.

"GAHAHA! NOHOHO! HYUHUHUNG NAHAHAT THERE!" He squeaked and squirmed, trying his best to pry the hands that tortured his tummy endlessly that seemed to be glued to his bare skin, stamping his feet onto the couch in a desperate attempt to somewhat relieve the sensations.

"Cutie with a pudge on their tummy, just like our dear Binnie! Hm, maybe someday I'll see both of those adorable little patches of skin..." The older smirks at the way Jisung's face turned a bright red enough to be an apple, hiding it away in his hands. If he couldn't stop the invading fingers, why not make them useful? Alas, Bangchan didn't like what was happening, shoving those torturous fingers right into the younger's armpits, digging cruelly in deep circles right in the middle, causing his arms to snap right back to his sides with a shriek.

"NAHAHAH! I CAHAHAN'T! HYUHAHAHAH!" The gummy smile was now right on display for Chan to admire, making him smile with admiration as Han's eyes crinkled with the ear splitting grin, tempting Chan to imitate along with him.

"You can't possibly be tired! There’s still 47 more minutes of this…” The older feigned being upset, pouting at Jisung’s demise, well if he could see it anyway. The quokka only desperately shook his head, he knew that timer wasn’t going to last, trying to roll away, arch his back away from those stupid fingers that tormented him to no end.

“There’s that gummy smile, now what if I..” Nothing would’ve prepared Han for the ear piercing shriek he let out when he felt lips attach right onto the top of his ribs, those fingers kneading and drilling right into his hip bones. He threw his head back onto Chan’s shoulder, tears of mirth streaming down his face as he laughter turned raspy and hoarse. He bucked his hips when they went right into the dip, knuckling roughly as those lips felt like they blew forever.

Eventually it all came to a stop, Bangchan simply settling for continuing to cuddling the quokka with a bottle of water in his hand for the both of them, peppering his face in more kisses to dry away the tears. Jisung of course tried to fight against that, but seeing that fingers drummed against his sides whenever he tried, he knew there was no point in trying.

The members rushed into the room right after, throwing confetti absolutely everywhere that narrowly missed the cake, also throwing themselves onto the duo in the process. Cake was shared, giggles were among the members, and most importantly,

Chan had the best gift of them all, care. And maybe Jisung had snitched on who really wrote those candles, eager for revenge.

[babybluebex]

billy x fem reader

Billy and reader are married and have a son/daughter and he/she is only a couple days old and so reader is still extremely tired so when their son/daughter wake the both of them up with crying billy calms their child back to sleep and talks about how amazing reader is and starts to reminisce on the great memories of their youth and he eventually joins reader back in bed and he looks at her with such love and admiration before he soon falls asleep

A wail came from the small bassinet, and it woke you up in an instant. Your husband next to you stirred as well, giving a tired little snuffle, and Billy mumbled, “I’ll get her.” 

“She’s probably hungry,” you mumbled sleepily. “I can get her—”

“No, darling, no,” Billy insisted. “If she’s hungry, I’ll bring her over, but let me get up. You’ve had a big few days, get your rest.” 

In the darkness, Billy shifted in bed to get up, and he flicked on a lamp. You looked over at him, bathed in the golden light, and you watched him card his hand through his long hair before he stood up, and he went to the other side of the room, where tiny Camilla’s bassinet sat. She really was the smallest thing, born premature, and Billy looked down at her, crying and sniffling. She was the spit of him, downy hair, round nose, pert lips. Oh, yes, she was Billy’s daughter, no doubt, and, as he pulled her into his arms, he thought that there had never been a luckier man than him. 

“Oh, Cami,” Billy whispered, holding her to his chest and lightly bouncing her. “My sweetest girl, what’s wrong? Tell your daddy what’s the matter.” Camilla continued to cry, and, even though Billy knew that babies were babies and that babies were wont to cry, it still broke his heart to hear her so distressed. Luckily, though, he didn’t have to be heartbroken for much longer, as the wee girl trailed off with her wailing, only cooing and making small sounds. “There she is, my girl, did you just need a cuddle?” 

“Was’the matter?” you mumbled, still half-asleep, and Billy slowly came back to bed, sitting up against the wall with Camilla on his chest. 

“She just wanted a cuddle,” Billy said fondly. The newborn, hardly a week old, was alert now, her eyes darting all over and examining everything, and she made a sweet noise when she saw you. You smiled at her and reached out to carefully smooth down her hair, and you whispered, “She’s so amazing.” 

“So are you, y’know,” Billy said. He looked at you then, his eyes full up of stars and hearts, and you grimaced. “No, darling, you are. You gave me a daughter, you made her and carried her and gave her to me, I can’t ever thank you or repay you.” 

You blinked slowly, and you reached up to kiss your husband, feeling the scruff on his face against your cheeks. “I love you,” you whispered. 

“I love you more,” Billy whispered. His hand smoothed down Camilla’s back, soothing her little whimpers, and he added, “D’ya remember when we met? So long ago, it feels like a lifetime.”

“I remember…” you started. “I had come to the pub with some uni mates, and I stepped outside for a smoke, but I had forgotten my cigs, and you were out there, and I asked to bum one.” 

“You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” Billy laughed. “In a little sundress, even though it was freezing cold, and your hands were shaking as you held your cigarette.” 

“Can I admit something?” you asked, and Billy furrowed his brow before he nodded. “That dress had pockets. My cigarettes were right by my side, but… I had seen you when I was with my friends, and I… I needed to talk to you. I just had to. So I pretended like I didn’t have them so that I’d have an excuse to talk to you.” 

“Really?” Billy asked. “But that’s…” 

“Silly,” you huffed. “I know. But I couldn’t think of any other way to talk to you, and I was too nervous to just start a conversation.”

“Not silly,” Billy told you. “Cute. So cute. But I asked for your number before you could even finish the cigarette. And you smiled and shook your head and said, ‘You don’t wanna really talk to me’. But I did, and you eventually gave me your number, and—”

“We texted all night,” you recalled. “Until the sun came up.” 

“And we haven’t parted since,” Billy said with a sappy smile. “And when I asked you to be my girlfriend, I was so nervous, I felt sick to my stomach, but you were so kind and sweet, you put me at ease. You’ve always put me at ease. And then when I proposed, I felt the same way, and on our wedding day, and… I sorta have never stopped being nervous around you.” 

“You remember the first night we spent together?” you asked. “I was so nervous to have you over to my flat, but you were so easy-going.” 

“Yeah, well, I was shitting myself, I was so scared,” Billy chuckled, bouncing Camilla a bit. “I didn’t expect anything to happen, and thank God you made the first move because I knew I couldn’t. Do you remember what you did?”

“I had gotten up to get you a drink,” you said. “And when I came back, I… I took a huge chance, and I sat myself in your lap. I knew I had done right, because your arms went around me instantly, and you looked at me like… Well, like you wanted me. And I kissed you, and you kissed me back, and then—” 

“You asked me if you could go down on me,” Billy laughed. “It was so cute. You were so cute all night, you kept asking me if I was okay and if I wanted to keep going, a-and you were just amazing.” 

“And you made me breakfast in the morning,” you added with a laugh. “You were plenty cute, too. Billy, I love you so much.” 

“But…?” Billy prompted, and you shook your head. You sat up and opened your arms for your daughter, and Billy delicately handed you Camilla, being careful not to move her too much. The girl had closed her eyes, maybe asleep, and you held her close. 

“But nothing,” you said. “No buts. I just love you.” 

Billy smiled at you, and he leaned in and softly kissed you, just enough for you to really feel his love. “And now we have a daughter,” he said softly. “And she’ll never…” He sighed, his dark eyes faltering, and, in a thick voice, said, “She’ll never have to know any cruelty.”

“Never,” you assured him. 

Quickly, you stood from the bed, and you set the sleeping baby back in her bassinet, and you joined your husband in bed once more. His arm went tight around you as you settled your head on his chest, and you listened to the thump of his heart against your ear. “Billy?” you whispered, and you looked up at him to find him already looking at you, his gaze full of love and admiration and pride. “I do love you.” 

“I know you do, pet,” Billy whispered, squeezing you and laying a kiss on your head. “I never doubted it for a second.”

[lefthandedhotch]

screams and cries over HIMMMMMMMM🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

babyyyyyyy🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💞💞💞💞💞💞💞 im in love with him so BAD!!!!

(also hello linny-winny🥺🥰💞 i luv uuuuuuu🥰💞💞)

screams about you and aaron being so silly!!!! while setting up a nursery <3 aaron being just as silly and sweet as he was when haley was pregnant with jack :')) the team are helping you two move into your new little home since the apartment was too tiny for a new baby addition and they are FLOORED everytime hotch cracks a joke or when he snorts (!!!) at a silly name suggestion you give him🤭🤭🤭 they have a hard time even getting him to smile more than a :| so hearing him full out Laugh is a treat that they're all loving so much🥰🥰🥺🥺🥺 because he deserves it🥰 this sweet sweet happiness that is rubbing your baby bump and kissing your head as jack whispers so many silly things to his baby sister🥰🥰🥰🥰 the next night is your first official night in your new home with your husband and your little boy and your baby on the way, you just cant help but get emotional🥺🥺🥺🥺 you're getting snuggly in bed waiting for aaron with a tiny jack bug already asleep in your new big bed and you cant help but start to weep🥺🥺🥺🥺 aaron comes in and Immediately worries over you (definitely Not helping how much you love him😭😭) but he relaxes when you tell him that you're crying happy tears :')))) after you and jack have fallen asleep, aaron falls asleep too and is also feeling some happy tears coming up because he never thought he'd get a second chance to happiness like this again🥺🥺 but he did!!!!!

SOBSSSSSSSS HIS PRETTY SWEET FACE 🥺🥰🥰🥰😩😩😩😩😩🥹🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 i wanna kiss him all day i love him so bad :((((((

(and hiiiiiiiiiii jess-jess 🤭🥹💕💗🥰 i luv uuuuuuuuuuuuu sm 🥰🥰🥰🥰💕💕💕💕)

you woke aaron up Early early (like even earlier than he normally gets up) because lil baby girl was kicking and you just couldn’t sleep any longer, but aaron doesn’t mind because it means that he gets some extra snuggle time in bed with you before jackers comes skipping into the room and you guys have to start getting ready to go to the new house and get baby girl’s room ready 🥰🥰🥰🥰💕 you Adore how much aaron fussed over you while you guys work on the nursery, and that even as he’s working sooooo so hard with the team to get everything ready, he’s still smiling with you and laughing at your silly jokes and name suggestions (especially when you Swear that you’re gonna name the baby derek because she kicked against your hand when you suggested it 🤭🤭🤭💗) and the team is just so 😧 the whole day seeing their grumpy gills boss be so easygoing and Happy the whole day 🥺🥺🥺 they even get to see that when he and jack grin next to each other they’re Identical!!!! which is something you have always told them but they’ve never believed because they’ve never seen it!!!!!!🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

your first night in the house, you’re all snuggled in bed with jack snoozing all curled up next to you after having fallen asleep while telling his baby sis a story, and you can’t believe that this is all really happening :( you’re in the sweetest little family home with your aaron and your kids and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted :( so you can’t help but cry!!!!!!! hehehehe of course the pregnancy hormones Definitely don’t help with that 🤭 aaron hears you sniffling from the bathroom and he hustles to finish brushing his teeth before he rushes out to help you and he immediately wipes your tears and murmurs “what’s wrong, honey?” which just makes you even more weepy because your darling darling aaron is so sweet 🥺 and he loves you so much 🥺 and you could tell him Anything was wrong and he would do anything in the world to make it right for you 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and when you finally drift off after sniffling to aaron about how happy you are and how you can’t wait for your little girl to get there and join the Big Big family you and aaron have created together, aaron kisses your forehead with a sweet lil smile and just lets himself get all misty thinking about everything that’s led him to this moment, to this amazing wonderful night with his little family in your big new bed in your sweet lil house for the first time waiting for your baby girl and how he never ever thought he could be This happy and feel this much love in his whole life 🥺 and when he wakes up the next morning to find you sitting up in bed with a groggy jackers pressing his ear to your belly as you laugh that his lil sis can’t talk yet! but he’s sure she’s telling him about her dreams 🥰 and aaron’s heart just absolutely Skips a beat because he knows that all his mornings will look like this from now on and he can’t wait 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💗💗💗💗💗💗💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰🥺🥺🥺

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

Carving away the nightmares- (Hazbin Hotel tickle fanfic)

A/N: How many of these have I written so far? Only 2? Well what can I say, I LOVE THESE TWO! Time for part 3 everyone! ENJOY YOU LOVELY SINNERS!

Summary: Charlie has a bad dream so she rushes to her father's room looking for comfort. She gets more than what she bargained for. (in a good way)

Lucifer groaned when he heard his door burst open from his room. It was past midnight and he had just climbed into bed. After working on the latest duckling, he'd only wanted one thing in the world. To sleep for at least an hour. He knew that another meeting was calling to him really soon and his sleeping schedule was jacked with having to watch Charlie after....Lilith.

No. He wasn't gonna think like that. If Lilith wanted to leave, that's fine. He just hated that she left without a trace or the fact that he was left to pick up the peaces with his daughter. Not that she ever cared to check on them.

Now, Lucifer was taking care of Charlie himself. He didn't mind. He loved his daughter. However, there were times that he'd have to put his foot down with her. He didn't want this time to be one of them, but his grumpiness combined with his tired head was making it difficult. The fallen angel already knew that Charlie was the one that stormed into his room. No other servant dared to do it without permission.

"Charlie, I love you my little apple, but if you don't go back to bed this instant-Oof!" Lucifer was cut off as he felt his daughter wrapping her arms around his neck and felt silent sniffles along his blazer that he unfortunately slept in.

All the anger that threaten to take form had disappeared, his daughter's sadness completely taking over his parental vision. "Woah woah, hey Charlie-lee-lee. What's wrong honey apple?" he asked as Charlie cried in his blazer. "I-I had a b-b-bad dream!"

"You did?! Oh, baby c'mere." Lucifer replied, his arms now cradling his little princess. The King of Hell began slowly rock his daughter, saying comforting words to stop her crying. It wasn't until he finished singing a soft lullaby that the crying had finally stopped. Lucifer expected the song to put her to sleep, but Charlie was still very much awake. Though, her tears have dried. "You wanna talk about it, LeeLee?" he asked softly, using his little nickname for her.

Charlie sniffed and rubbed her nose. "A-Angels were c-coming to get us." Lucifer felt a chill down his spine but allowed his daughter to continue. "You were fighting them. You told me to hide and said that you'd find me....b-but you n-never did!" Lucifer could sense that his daughter's cries were about to continue, so he gently shushed her while giving her a kiss on her forehead. "Sweetie, that is never going to happen. You know why?"

"W-Why?" Charlie asked as Lucifer wiped away her tears. "Cause no matter what happens, I'm always gonna be there for you." Charlie gave him a tiny smile at his words. Lucifer raised his brow at that, wanting his daughter to not feel any more pain for that horrible nightmare. "Plus," he started before surprising Charlie by tossing her in the air and catching her with ease. Charlie squealed and giggled once her father's hands reconnected with her petit body. "It's gonna take a lot more than an army of angels to take daddy out." Charlie giggled more, her tiny hands covering her mouth. "Really?"

"Uh, like duh." Lucifer replied earning another giggle from his daughter. "I would blast those angels to oblivion. Going all 'pow pow pow ka-boom'!" Lucifer said, mimicking sound effects while also wiggling his fingers along Charlie's sides every time he said a sound effect. The princess laughed trying to swat away her father's sneaky hands.

"Oh oh and then one angels swoops in and I go, 'Hey betcha didn't see this coming.' And then I..." Lucifer purposely trailed off for a dramatic effect before swooping down to plant love bites all over Charlie's neck. Charlie balked as she felt her father's love bites. "Dahahahahahahahaddy!"

"And then, the real fun begins." Lucifer says as he booped Charlie's nose and summoned all 6 of his wings and engulfed both him and Charlie inside a little bubble. Lucifer smirked giving Charlie a kiss on her cheek before he covered up his eyes. "Just when the angels think they've won, daddy's gonna hide in plain sight and pull off a super scary face to scare them back to Heaven." Charlie couldn't respond because on of Lucifer's wings was tickling her feet. Only the sound of Charlie's giggling allowed Lucifer to know that Charlie was still there. "And it looks like...this!"

Lucifer uncovered his face, crossing his eyes, making a fake pouty face, and sticking his tongue out as the cherry on top. Charlie's laughter went up an octave as she stared at her father's silly face. "Thahahahahahahahat's silly ehehehehehehehe daddy ehehehehehehehehehe!!" Lucifer couldn't help but chuckle himself but he wasn't done yet. The fallen angel covered his face again. "Where's daddy Charlie? Where is he?" he didn't get answer for Charlie was still giggling her head off, the wing now making it way to her toes. "Peekaboo!" The fallen angel declared, uncovering his face to find his happy bubbly daughter still giggling her head off.

This gesture went on for a while until the King of Hell covered his eyes once more. "Where's daddy?" Again he asked but this time, he didn't immediately reveal himself just yet. He unlashed the wing that was tickling Charlie's toes and allowed her to breathe for a moment. Charlie rolled over and crawled her way over to her father, even going as far as climbing on him so she was at eye level with him. "Daddy, come out!" she giggled as she pulled on one of his fingers. A moment later, noting happened until- "Peekaboo!"

"AH!" Charlie let out a cute squeak as Lucifer lashed onto her and toss her in the air again. "I gotcha, I gotcha!" he chanted as he watched his daughter completely lose it in his grasp. Lucifer held his daughter in a tight embrace as he gave her a kiss on her forehead. Charlie unexpected repeated the gesture, kissing her father under his chin. Lucifer blushed at his daughter's affection but before he could thank her, his little apple gave out a very tired yawn. Lucifer chuckled. "Bed time Charlie."

"Daddy." Charlie said before Lucifer could get up to take her to her room. "Can I sleep with you? Please?" Charlie gave him her please eyes. Lucifer's blush refused to falter upon seeing this. He gave her a smile before saying, "You never have to ask for that." With that, the King of Hell snuggle up against his daughter and went to turn off a lamp that he accidentally left on. The two Morningstar's snuggles together throughout the night, neither of them wanting to separate from the other.

[luveline]

It’s ok if this isn’t something ur comfy writing but if you’d like can you write a blurb where r is struggling with disordered eating and sirius helps her through a tiny relapse? It’s ok if that’s too heavy a request! luv u luveline

Hi baby! I hope this is what you meant, thank you for requesting <3 fem!reader, tw disordered eating, relapse mention, restrictive eating pattern

You're sitting at the kitchen table, mildly uncomfortable and wildly unhappy, when Sirius places a small plate in front of you. He doesn't fake smile, doesn't sugar-coat, only kisses the top of your head and says, "Thank you, doll." 

You can't answer him. You're furious: at him, at yourself for being mad with him, at the world (as dramatic as it sounds), and at yourself again, for not being able to stomach this without his help. You've been doing really well lately, and relapse is a big part of recovery, but relapse is also an easy pool to submerge yourself into when you're feeling low.

You don't want to eat right now, and you don't want to skip the meal either. It's two evils. 

Sirius is all good, nothing nefarious or cruel about him as he sits beside you with his own plate. Being watched doesn't help, and he's turned up the radio so you can't hear each other chewing. He knows all the silly things that trip you up. 

You pick up your fork. You're teary-eyed, agitated, defeated, too many things. 

"Do you want to talk about it, or would you rather talk about something else?" he asks.

It feels majorly patronising. You recognise that it isn't, and that you're annoyed because you're angry with yourself and not him, so you bite back a cruel comment he could never deserve and sniffle. 

"I know you can do this," he says quietly. 

You nod. He holds out his empty hand and you take it, and you ask him to talk about music while you eat. He has such a lovely voice that after a while you nearly forget what's wrong. Nearly. You finish your meal and feel sicker than sick, but Sirius takes your plate away so you can't look at it, and he returns with a glass of water and a flower from the sill. 

He tucks it behind your ear tenderly. 

"Thank you." 

You reach out to hug his stomach, nose pressed into his t-shirt. "Thank you," you mumble. 

"Welcome." He covers your head with his arms, locking you in. He has a talent — he touches you, and everything fades to the wayside. "You're amazing. I hope you know." 

"I don't feel amazing." 

"You don't have to. You just have to keep trying. That's all you have to do, lovergirl." 

You laugh into his shirt. "Lovergirl." 

"Lovergirl," he repeats, whispering. "Keep going. That's all you have to do." He strokes a hand over your neck until the nausea abates, and for a little while after, too.

[metacrisisdoctor]

Lying with this love, that’s where he’ll be

an alien intruder makes itself known in the tyler household. for the @tentoorosemicrofics challenge. i used “icy” as the prompt. cookies for anyone who understands what the title is a refence to!

1.7k. family fluff. post empire of the wolf.

READ ON AO3

Like most things, it will all make sense in retrospect. Or at least some of it will.

The situation is starting to come into focus now, really- the thought of what could be happening so terrifying Rose can only mentally kick herself for letting the Doctor wander off into the snow to get her some aspirin for her cramps.

("Never doubt my love for you, Rose Tyler. This stuff could kill me.")

Well- what she had thought were period cramps.

Cramps have never felt this bad though, and the only thing Rose can focus on is the terrified look on her daughter's face. And the pain. Oh God, the pain. Splitting pain radiating from her womb and spreading, spreading, spreading until she can barely walk over to the sofa, even with Mia holding her arm and leading the way with a patience no teenage girl can muster unless they're really scared.

It's then that is clicks. The only time she's ever felt this pain was seventeen years ago.

She's in labour. And she hadn't even known she was pregnant.

This universe has a sense of humor, doesn't it? Hard to deny that now.

For years Mia had begged them for a sibling, and they'd tried. Of course they had. Many times, without complaint. Sometimes multiple times a day, as due diligence. They had a name picked out and everything, the perfect name. And when the Doctor saw a tiny suit or miniature converse, he couldn't help but bring them home.

They'd tried until they could say that one child was miracle enough, and after a while Mia had contended herself with an orange cat that the Doctor pretended to hate and playdates with Tony.

They were happy. They are happy. 

Happiness comes and goes, however. In this moment, happy is certainly not the term she would use.

The contraction that takes a hold of her is so intense that her knees give out. It increases until she can't help but scream in agony while Mia holds her waist. A drop of sweat falls into Rose's eye and blurs her vision when she opens her eyes. The room seems bigger than it ever has, the couch never so bloody fucking stupidly far.

"Don't die," Mia whimpers. Rose can feel her daughter's arms trembling, and she knows she's crying. There is nothing Rose wants more than to comfort her, to stand up straight and tell her that she's fine. That she isn't dying. But she can barely string together three words.

Three words are better than none, "I'm gonna alright." 

Mia sniffles, "I love you, Mummy."

And blimey, Mia hasn't called her anything other than "Mum" or "whatever," in ages. It's enough to to make her laugh, tears springing to her eyes at how young Mia sounds. But it makes her heart hurt too. Mia really thinks she’s watching her die. 

The pain ebbs into a dull ache, giving her enough reprieve to say those words back and keep moving. When they finally make it to the sofa, Rose pulls her phone from her pocket to call her husband. Her hands are slick with sweat and the device slips from her hands like butter and clatters to the floor.

Rose curses, taking a deep breath. "I need you to call your father. He should be back soon, he just went to the store but we should warn him... before he gets home."

Mia's eyes are as wide as saucers despite the sleep lines on her face and her messy braid. Guilt twists inside Rose again. She had hoped this, whatever it was, wouldn't wake her. But it did, of course it did. She was having a baby for Christ's sake.

"Warn him about what?! We don't even know what's wrong. We have to get to the hospital."

A furious shake of the head has Mia's mouth closing back up. She lifts her hips and starts tugging her sweatpants down. "No time. Baby's coming."

"Baby?! Since when are you pregnant?!"

"Hell if I know!"

Just then fresh, freezing air spreads throughout the room, cooling Rose's burning skin as the Doctor bursts through the door. The small bag of pain killers and crisps in his hand looks equal parts ridiculous and terribly endearing. He has snow on his shoulders, piled on the blue wool of his coat, soaking his cotton jim jams and stuck to his hair.

He's panting like he's been running, his own terrified expression mirroring Mia's- but it's clear that he heard every last bit of their exchange before opening the door.

"I already called him," Mia explains, tapping her temple a bit smugly, "with my mind."

Before Rose can respond something cheeky about their alien mind connection the pain rips through her again, and she slides off the sofa and onto the floor with a groan. She tastes blood and realizes she's biting her cheek. 

Snow tracks across the room as he makes his way over to them. He quickly shrugs off the coat and kneels on the floor in front of his wife. His hands are cold as ice and Rose flinches when he gently touches her thigh, then leans down to have a look.

"Oh hello," he croons, before looking back up and smiling widely. "You're crowning. I can see the head. Looks like I'm right on time for once."

"I didn't know," Rose sobs, thinking of all the glasses of wine she's had. The prenatal pills she should have taken- especially at her age. It's hard to know exactly how old she is anymore, but above forty is a good guess. She thinks of the spotting she had taken as her period, as menopause kicking in.

The small, tiny bulge that she had thought was bloating. But it was a baby, their baby, somehow hidden away in her own body.

How could she have been so blind?

"Rose, I know what you're thinking but it's alright. None of us knew. But I don't think our child wants to be ignored any longer, eh?"

They share a small smile and Mia nods in agreement, pushing the sweaty hair away from her mothers face. Rose attempts to pull her hand from Mia's but the teenager refuses to let go, determined. "I'm not leaving."

It's all goes so fast then, nothing like her seventeen hour long labour of years past. The silence of the night is filled with the sounds of one small, (mostly) human life making it's way home.

"Come on, you're doing so well. Just one big one for me."

Her red, blotchy face scrunches as she pushes one more time.

"I'll catch you," the Doctor says, and she knows he's not talking to her anymore. Suddenly, she really really want to meet her baby. It's as if she can't wait another second to hold them. Besides her Mia gasps and let's go of her hand, finally, to whip off her favourite pink hoodie for the Doctor to wrap the baby in.

Just like that it's over. Her husband makes a sound of victory, between a sob and cheer. The room is suspiciously silent though, and she sits up straighter, trying to get a look at them despite her pain and confusion. The entire room smells like copper.

Her voice is raw and trembling when she speaks, "Why isn't he crying?"

He's so small, the chock of brown hair on his head the only thing making him seem bigger than he is. 

Fear contracts around her heart like scar tissue, old memories of children they have both lost in their time apart bubbling to the surface of the ocean of her mind and threatening to pull them down into an abyss she doesn't know if they could ever come back from. She watches as the Doctor rubs circles on the baby's back, his face tense. After what feels like an eternity, a piercing cry fills the room.

"That's more like it," the Doctor chuckles, his voice thick with unshed tears. Relief courses through her entire being, her arms opening instinctively. "I think he was asleep."

It makes sense doesn't it? At least in her mind it does. Mia had been non-stop energy, dancing on her bladder at all times. Takes after her father. Maybe this one shares her love for sleeping in. But even if he doesn't, she doesn't mind one bit.

"Where have you been hiding?" She murmurs as their son is place on her chest, wrapped in his sisters love, delivered from his father's hands. The three of them sit in stunned, awed silence until he settles, making small snuffled sounds into Rose's sternum. 

Mia's words are accompanied by a small giggle. "A little stowaway, he is." She tugs the fabric that obscures his slimey little face down to run a fingertip over his features, amazed that her little brother has finally made an appearance.

Rose marvels at how well the Doctor is taking this, how perfect the timing is. He had been so afraid to be a father again. If it hadn't been for Tony, maybe he would have been able to open his heart to this part of himself again, but she's so glad he did. Fatherhood fits him like a glove, like he was born for it. But if Mia had been a surprise, she doesn't know how he would have reacted. 

Everything worked out just as it should have, it seems.

In a few moments they will rush to the hospital, they'll call Jackie and tell her there won't be a Christmas party this year after all. There will be months of nappy changes, and sleepless nights and guilt followed by comfort. By happiness. By love. Always, always love.

Now, at three in the morning, there is a moment of complete serenity as snow continues to fall around their townhouse. The fireplace crackles. All old wounds heal.

A family of four, propped on the floor, nestled safely in their home.

"It's good to finally meet you, Jack." the Doctor whispers then leans toward and presses a kiss to Rose's brow, then one to Mia's before making his way back down to the newest member of their family. "And don't you dare let your grandmother think we named you after her. I'll tell you now, in fact, at two minutes old, that you were named after-"

—

Somewhere in a world not much different than their own, Captain Jack Harkness suddenly looks up at the sky and smiles.

He doesn't know why.

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 17: Not Yours

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: John says something regarding Lucy’s relationship with Charlie that cuts deeply.

Word Count: 3,428 

Notes: I wrote this for @call-sign-shark’s 1k followers celebration. Congratulations, Shark! I decided to participate in the angel themed option, and I picked the dialogue prompt: "Don't listen to them" from this list. As usual you can read this as a standalone fic without reading the preceding parts if you prefer. There are some spoilers for previous parts, so if you want to go into the fics preceding this one totally blind, I suggest reading those first, but it’s by no means required to understand what’s going on here. All you need to know is that it takes place sometime between seasons 2 and 3, and that Tommy, Lucy, and Grace are in an established polyamorous relationship. Warnings for depictions of angst, polyamory, infertility, some irresponsible behavior when taking care of a baby (the baby is fine, though, don’t worry!), and insecurity.  

Previous Part • Series • Next Part

She rushed down the hall, shoes clattering against the hardwood floor, bursting through the doors to the drawing room, following the high wails that were steadily increasing in volume. 

“Charlie!?”

The baby was sitting on a blanket in the middle of the room, his face contorted with terror as he cried his little heart out. Swooping into the room, she scooped him up, cradling the back of his head when she pulled his tiny body into her chest. He immediately nuzzled into her neck, still crying even as he clung to her.

“Sweet boy, sweet boy. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” she swayed them both gently from side to side. “Shush…it’s okay,” satisfied that he was safe once he started to settle, she looked around the room, brows furrowing.

John and Esme had come by to let their kids run off some of their energy by playing on the expansive grounds around Arrow House. She could hear their hoots and hollers filtering in through the window. Tommy had to go down to his office in Small Heath for something, and Grace was in London doing some wedding shopping. Lucy had some things she needed to get done, and had taken up John and Esme on their offer to babysit Charlie while she worked in her office. She thought it would be fine; they had about a thousand children so it wasn’t like she was worried they would drop the baby on his head or anything. Besides, it was only for an hour at most. 

And yet, looking around the room where she’d left them with Charlie, there was no John or Esme to be found. Her eyes narrowed. What the fuck? Didn’t they know better than to leave a baby alone like this? The least they could have done was put him in his crib in the nursery so he couldn’t get into trouble.  

Charlie’s cries had mostly subdued, resting his head on her shoulder with his chubby little arms still clinging to her.

“Where’d your aunt and uncle go, Charlie?” she asked, truly baffled. But steadily replacing that bafflement was a deep fury. What the fuck was wrong with them?

Still carrying Charlie, she began to walk towards the upstairs, adjusting the weight of him in her arms. 

“I know, sweetie,” she said when he sniffled into her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with them.”

A pit of guilt had opened up inside her. She should have known better than to trust them. 

It was just as she was rounding the corner to take Charlie back to the nursery that the door to one of the guest rooms flew open, John and Esme staggering out, giggling and readjusting their clothes. 

When they caught sight of her they froze, expressions turning sheepish. For a long moment, the three of them just stared at each other. 

“He was crying,” Lucy said finally.

“Shit,” John wiped a hand down his face, stifling a laugh. “Sorry. We didn’t hear.”

“Cleary,” she knew that she would be better served to just bite her tongue and tell Tommy about what happened later and let him deal with it, but she was too angry. “You should have said if it was such an inconvenience to watch him. I could have just put him in his bassinet in my office.”

“It’s no inconvenience–”

“No?” she raised an eyebrow. John rolled his eyes.

“Look, the kid fell asleep. Esme and I haven’t had a moment alone in fuck knows how long. We figured we’d just step away for a few moments while he slept and everything would be fine–”

Poor Charlie. He must have woken up laying on that blanket in the big drawing room all by himself and gotten scared. Lucy tightened her arms around him protectively. 

“Well then you should have called a maid or the nanny to come watch him. You can’t just leave a baby alone like that! He could have gotten hurt!”

“Oh, come on, Luce, he can barely even crawl yet, he would’ve been fine–” John started.

“We know a hell of a lot more about raising kids than you,” Esme ground out. Lucy felt her hackles raise at the underlying meaning.

“Excuse me?”

Esme opened her mouth, but John interjected before she could say anymore. 

“Look,” he pinched his brow. “Fine. It was a mistake, and we’re sorry,” he gave Esme a little nudge. “Aren’t we, Esme?”

“Mm,” was all she said, still glaring at Lucy. 

“But he’s fine,” John gestured to where Charlie was settled comfortably in Lucy’s arms. “No harm done. So…”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “So…?” she quoted back, though she had a pretty good idea of what John was going to ask of her next. 

He sighed. “So, if you could just maybe not mention any of this to Tommy…”

Lucy cocked her head. “I think that Tommy has a right to know what happens in his own household, don’t you? Especially if it has to do with his child.”

John’s face twitched. He’d always had a short fuse. But at least Lucy was fairly confident he wouldn’t try anything too rash so long as she had the baby in her arms. 

“Would it kill you to not be a fucking snitch, just once in your life!?” he snapped. “You act all shocked and hurt that none of us can fucking stand you, but have never stopped to consider that maybe it’s because we know everything we do or say around you gets back to him?”

“I do my job, John. Just like you do yours.”

Esme scoffed. “His little spy. Even amongst his own family members,” she hissed a curse in Shelta and spat at her feet. Shaking her head, Lucy shouldered past them. She wasn’t going to stand around and listen to this. 

“I’m not going to lie to Tommy when he asks me how things went today just so you two can avoid a scolding.” she said over her shoulder.

“Why do you even care so much!?” John exploded, shouting at her as she continued to walk down the hallway. “He’s not even your kid!”

Lucy froze, shoes skidding to a stop against the soft rug. She was glad that her back was turned, so John couldn’t see her face when the words punched a hole in her heart. 

Swallowing hard and carefully schooling her features into an expression that hopefully hid just how heartbroken the statement had left her, she turned around, taking a few steps back towards them.

“Get out of my house.”

John and Esme both looked momentarily taken aback by the dark tone in her voice.

“It’s not your house,” John tried to argue.

“Oh, okay. Let’s wait for Tommy or Grace to come home and see how they feel about that sentiment.”

Their jaws clenched, but they both seemed to recognize that was not a fight they particularly wanted to engage in; especially considering they were in enough trouble already. John wiped at his nose, then took Esme’s hand.

“Come on, Esme,” he led her with booming steps towards the stairs. Lucy watched them until they had disappeared out of sight, squeezing Charlie a little tighter to her. The moment they were gone, she felt her features crumple slightly, breaths shaky as she turned back around to head towards the nursery. As if sensing she was distressed, Charlie pulled back from where he’d been resting his head on her shoulder to look at her. 

“I’m okay, honey,” she said, shouldering open the door to the nursery. Instead of taking him to the crib, she sat down in the rocking chair with him in her lap. Charlie craned his head up to look at her curiously, the chair shifting back and forth as she rocked them mindlessly. Breaths still shuttering in her chest with the effort it was taking her not to cry, Lucy smoothed down Charlie’s hair with her palm, kissing the top of his head.

She loved Charlie with all her heart. And Tommy and Grace had made herculean efforts to ensure she never felt left out in raising him, always insisting that Charlie was just as much hers as he was theirs. 

They’d made even more of an effort on emphasizing that fact ever since she’d finally admitted to them her secret regarding her inability to have her own biological children. 

But despite their efforts, fear still weighed heavily inside her chest. Fear of what would happen when Charlie got old enough to begin asking questions about the nature of her relationship with his parents. And that, maybe, even after he knew the truth, he wouldn’t understand. He could even come to the conclusion that he didn’t want his parents being with her at all. 

They hadn’t really decided how much they were going to tell him when he got older. Of course there was the concern that when he was young he might not fully understand the importance of discretion in the whole arrangement. But the idea of him not knowing, and growing up thinking that either of his parents were being unfaithful to each other with her, and inevitably resenting her for it, made her want to cry. 

“Da!” Charlie squawked.

“I know,” she stroked his soft hair. “Daddy’ll be home soon,” she soothed.

Charlie cuddled back against her chest, yawning a little. Lucy sighed, stroking his back. 

“I hope you’ll still love me this much when you’re older, kiddo,” she whispered. 

“He’s not even your kid!” John’s voice echoed in her head, and her bottom lip trembled.

It always stung to be reminded that outside of Tommy and Grace, no one would ever really see her as Charlie’s parent. While most of the family knew about the arrangement between her, Grace, and Tommy, many of them did not approve of or even accept it. And she knew that quite a few of them also viewed her extensive involvement in Charlie’s upbringing as her pushing herself into a position where she didn’t belong.   

God, the possibility that Charlie himself might someday feel that same way…

A shuddering sound left her lips, breaths stuttering as she tried hard not to cry. Suddenly unable to sit still, she picked Charlie back up and stood, going to the window.  

She had never thought of Charlie as anything other than her baby. 

And given what the doctors had told her, he–and any other children Tommy and Grace might have–was the only baby she would ever have.  

That was alright. She’d mostly made peace with that fact, small bouts of sadness or insecurity aside, and she loved Charlie so much; he would always be enough for her. 

He’s not even your kid.

But the idea, that nagging, insistent feeling, that someday Charlie might say something to the exact same effect to her, was more than enough to break her heart.  

Hot tears finally slid down her cheeks, a small sob spasming in her chest. Charlie, staring up at her, reached up, patting at her wet face clumsily with one of his tiny hands. 

“Mama,” he said.

“Mama will be back soon, too, sweetie,” her voice was heavy with tears. 

“Mama!” he insisted, patting her face again.  

Lucy looked down at him in puzzlement, lips parting when she finally understood. “Oh, no, honey…I’m not your mama.”

“Mama,” Charlie said once more, stubbornly, and she sighed. He really was his father’s child. 

“It’s just ‘Lucy,’ baby,” she tried to explain. She didn’t really have an official title for him to call her by. Any form of ‘mother’ just felt like it would confuse the poor boy, but she wasn’t particularly fond of variations like ‘Aunt Lucy’ either. She had come more or less to the conclusion that she would just be ‘Lucy’ to him almost without even realizing it.

“Mama!” Charlie’s hand tried to again pat at her damp cheek, though it was more like he was gently smacking her with it thanks to his lack of coordination. She sputtered out a sound that was half a laugh, slightly tipping her face away from him after he almost poked her in the eye. 

Adjusting him so he was propped up on her hip, she leaned her head against the top of his, closing her eyes while swaying them back and forth. A moment later, Charlie put his little arms on each of her shoulders in what could only be considered a hug, and she nearly burst into another round of tears over how heartwarming it was.

Sometimes she swore that the kid understood far more of what was actually going on with the adults around him than they thought.  

She didn’t think she stood there for very long, though she couldn’t be entirely sure, before she heard the creak of shoes on the floorboards behind her.

“There you are,” Tommy said, striding across the room before she really had time to process that he was there, pecking a kiss to her lips and stroking a gentle hand over Charlie’s head. He frowned when he pulled back and got a good look at her face. Her eyes were probably still red from crying. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, um…”

“Da!” Charlie interrupted her, clearly ecstatic to see his father, pulling both of their attentions to him. 

“You wanna go to your Daddy, Charlie?” Lucy asked. “Give my arms a break before they get too sore? You’re getting heavy, kiddo.”

Tommy chuckled, taking Charlie from her with a grin, holding the baby close to him with Charlie’s head tucked securely on his shoulder. Once he was situated, he turned back to Lucy, eyebrow raised questioningly. She shook her head.

“I’m fine.”

The look in his eyes said that he didn’t believe her. “I noticed John, Esme, and the kids are gone,” he prompted. 

“Yeah, I, um,” she cleared her throat. “I kinda threw them out.”

“Why?” he tilted his head curiously. 

“Because they offered to watch Charlie while the kids were playing outside so I could get some work done. And then I heard him crying later while I was in my office and I found him lying on a blanket in the drawing room wailing by himself.”

Tommy’s brows pulled together. “They just left him alone?”

“Apparently he fell asleep, and they thought it would be acceptable to go fuck in one of the spare rooms,” she reached out to stroke Charlie’s back. “He’s okay,” retracting her hand, she ran it through her tangled curls. “I shouldn’t have left him alone with them.”

“John and Esme know better than that,” Tommy growled, and from the far-off, calculating look in his eyes, she could tell that both his brother and sister-in-law were in for a proper scolding the next time he saw them. His gaze snapped back to her. “What else happened?”

She shook her head. “That’s it.”

One arm hooked securely around Charlie, he reached out the other to cup her cheek, thumb stroking the slightly puffy skin under one of her eyes.

“You’ve been crying.”

“I’m okay.”

His eyes narrowed, immediately closing in on what must have happened. “What did John say?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Tommy…”

He gave her a stern look and she sighed, breaking eye contact with him to instead adjust the collar on Charlie’s shirt. “Just some shit about Charlie not really being my kid.”

Tommy was quiet for a long moment. “What?” he finally said, voice a low, dangerous growl. When she looked back up it was to find that his eyes had hardened, jaw tensing. 

“Yeah, um,” she coughed. And then, because she figured if she was already going to do the equivalent of throwing John into a pit with an angry wolf, she might as well tell the entire story, she added, “he also tried to say that this wasn’t my house…”

“I’m gonna kill him,” the absolute seriousness with which it was said had a weak smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Tommy shook his head, turning his furious eyes towards the window like he could somehow beam his anger and disappointment at John just by staring in the general direction of his house. “Fucking John…” he hissed under his breath.

“Yeah,” wrapping her arms around herself, she looked down at the floor. Tommy’s head snapped around to her.

“Hey,” adjusting Charlie in his arms, he reached out and cupped her face again, tilting her head up and resting his forehead against hers. “He’s wrong, eh? John’s an idiot; don’t listen to a word he says.”

Lucy let out a small laugh, a hand coming to rest on Tommy’s chest. “It’s what they’re all thinking, though,” she peered up at him, lip caught between her teeth.

Tommy shook his head. “Don’t listen to them,” his nose brushed against hers. “They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about,” he whispered huskily, and Lucy shivered, letting him crowd in closer to her, mouth brushing over hers sensually. “You’re his mother,” he said after he pulled back. “Both me and Grace say so.”

Charlie made a squealing noise, reaching his little fists for Lucy’s hair. Tommy chuckled.

“See? Charlie does too.” 

Lucy sniffled, nodding and letting him draw her into the circle of his arm, so that he was holding both her and his son to his chest. 

“We love you,” Tommy said into her hair.

“Love you too,” she mumbled. Charlie tried to grab her hair again, catching a fistful of it.

“No tugging, son,” Tommy spoke gently, carefully untangling the curls from Charlie’s fingers before he could begin yanking on it. “Lucy doesn’t like that.”

Charlie pouted, but relented, yawning and resting his head on his father’s chest. 

“I’ll talk to John,” Tommy told her. 

“You gonna yell at him?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She tried not to smile at the idea and thoroughly failed. He never had once failed to defend her to his family whenever they stepped out of line. She couldn’t begin to tell him just how much that meant to her. “Thanks.”

He pecked her forehead “Of course.”

The door opened with a soft creak, approaching heels clicking on the floor. “Why, hello you three,” Grace smiled brightly when she took in the sight of her two lovers and her baby embracing. She whisked forward to give both Lucy and Tommy quick greeting pecks on the lips before kissing Charlie on the cheek. He made a happy cooing noise at the presence of his mother before snuggling closer to Tommy. 

“I think he’s about ready to go down,” Tommy commented, hoisting the baby a little more firmly up on his shoulder.

“Can I take him?” Lucy asked suddenly. Tommy shot her a look, smile pulling at his lips. 

“Sure,” he handed Charlie over to her with zero hesitation, the baby, already half asleep, nestled his head in the crook of her neck with no complaint, heavy in her arms. Grace pulled her eyes away from Charlie to look at her, brows furrowing. 

“Did something happen?” she asked. 

“John’s been being an ass,” Tommy said, wrapping an arm around Grace’s shoulders and kissing the top of her head. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it.”

“How was the shopping?” Lucy asked, wanting desperately to change the conversation, though she could already tell from the look on Grace’s face that she would be wanting more details later. 

“Oh, very successful. I got the order in for those centerpieces we agreed on.”

“That’s good,” Lucy nodded, carrying Charlie over to the crib. “I love you,” she whispered into the baby’s ear. He cooed softly when she cradled him carefully as she put him down. 

“Mary said dinner is almost ready; we should head down,” Grace said, her and Tommy moving to join Lucy at the crib, the three of them crowded together around it. She kissed Lucy’s temple. “And then you can tell me all about what exactly John did.” 

“Okay,” Lucy breathed out, still staring down into the crib, where Charlie was looking up at her sleepily. Most of the inhabitants of Small Heath, and even many of the Shelbys, had always looked at her like she was a demon. Some monster that had crawled out of the bowels of hell to terrorize them all. But Charlie looked up at her not just with the unquestioning love that a baby had for its parents, but with complete and absolute trust. Like she was his guardian angel. 

She hoped, probably in vain, that he would always look at her like that.

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