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total-dxmure · 3 months

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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: here we are, the meat and potatoes. the fic is really kicking off. . . and they're already flirting?! ellie is so touch and affection starved that she nearly jumps out of her own skin every time you even look at her.)

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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

In that halfway space between waking and sleep it was hard to discern what was real and what wasn’t. Your bed felt warm, sheets still tangled around your arms and legs. The weight of your blanket on your chest could easily be confused with another’s body, and so you felt yourself smile. Warm, happy, safe-

Abby was behind you, her limbs expertly twisted around yours like she’d done it a thousand times before. . . and she had.

Slowly you opened your eyes, staring blankly ahead of you into your pitch black bathroom. You recognized the fresh scent of your shampoo, and felt the way your hair still clung to your hot cheeks- wet from your shower the night before. It was like you were suspended in a memory, everything all soft and fuzzy around you. The dots weren’t perfectly connecting, and still you were happy. For a second you just laid there, unable to look down at the hand you could feel so vividly at your waist. Would you see Abby’s knuckles when you looked down? Would you see the rubber promise ring she had insisted on wearing? Everything always had to be even and fair with her.

This morning felt familiar. Like you’d lived it before. Your breath left you in a rush when the bed creaked behind you.

“Abby,” God, she was back. She was back and she was right behind you. “Baby?”

There was a soft groan and then the arm tightened, bringing you into a warm chest. Her bicep squeezed your arm tightly against her shoulder, and all at once you were tucked in so tight. Confusion tugged at your features, and you mulled over exactly why you were clinging to her arm so tightly.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered against your hair, her voice still thick with sleep. Still, her fingers stroked at your bare stomach.

“I had a nightmare,” You mumbled, trying to recall exactly what had plagued you just seconds ago. You can’t remember now that you’re safe here. . . safe with Abby again. “You were gone and I was all alone.”

Those moments came back to you in flashes. The ache, the constant pain of losing her, the “learning to live without her” that crushed you entirely. You turned around in her grasp, nuzzling your nose into the crook of her neck. You took deep inhales, trying to still your rising panic. You could feel the steady beating of her heart against your cheek, the warmth of her bare breasts against your collar bones.

“I was gone?” She raised a hand, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a few golden strands falling onto her forehead as she moved her head against the pillow beneath her. “You can tell me about it if you want.” She offered supportively, petting your back in slow circles.

You don’t know why. . . but you missed those circles. It felt like you’d been without them for weeks. Months.

“I-I got a phone call. . . and they told me that you’d died,” Your bottom lip quivered, your eyes filling with tears. You couldn’t help but laugh pathetically at your unnecessary hysterics. Abby was right here. Everything was okay. “It felt like the longest nightmare I’ve ever had. It was horrible.”

“You did so good though.” She whispered, her hands still stroking.

Your muscles tensed, and slowly you moved your hand up her side, fingers brushing against her skin. You pressed a soft kiss against the underside of her breast, a tear breaking free past your lower lashes. This moment suddenly felt fleeting.

“I did?” You questioned, pulling away to look at her.

She was so beautiful. Like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right in your bed. The sun was just beginning to rise, setting the line of trees just outside of your window ablaze. She was diaphanous and golden laying there beneath you. You were so lucky. You could barely breathe when she looked up at you like that, her eyes so thick with pride and love.

“You did, baby girl. You stayed so strong.” She cracked a small smile, but it looked pained. Like she was also realizing that the two of you couldn’t exist here forever. “I need you to keep it up though, alright?” You couldn’t feel her hand on your back anymore, nor the softness of the sheets.

“Please,” You sobbed out, reaching out to cup her cheek. She didn’t feel like anything. Like your hand was molded around a pocket of open space. Nothingness. She was about the size of the palm of your hand now, her urn sitting on the mantle in your living room. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Her blue eyes stared up at you, proud and unwavering in their convictions, as they always were. . . always had been. “I’m never far. Pinky.” Promise.

And then you were in your bed again, the alarm on your phone blaring.

“Abby?” You mumbled, and you didn’t have to turn over to realize you were alone.

Ellie was good at putting pressure on herself. It had always been a form of motivation, as cruel as it seemed. She couldn’t let today be awful. No episodes or meltdowns and no long bouts of silence. You were pretty and it really seemed like you could use a friend.

Ellie could use a friend too.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shown interest in a girl. She’d always been career driven with a one track mind. She was good at overworking herself and running herself dry. She hoped that you’d be able to use that to your benefit today. Ellie wanted to lose herself in something. . . in someone. She wanted to be useful for the first time in what felt like a long, long while.

So she woke up at the butt crack of dawn and took a shower. She kept her eyes shut tight as she washed herself and didn’t even bother to towel dry her hair before she was pulling on an outfit. Thick droplets of water stained the shoulders of her jean button up as she tied up the laces on her boots. She focused on one shoe at a time, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Every once and a while her brain would wander, hellbent on self destruction, but with a small groan she’d remember the sadness in your eyes.

She’d remember who she was before the accident.

She moved down the stairs as quietly as she could, praying that Joel’s dog wouldn’t start barking once he realized that his new best friend was leaving the house. The keys to her old car were on the rack beside the front door, right next to Joel’s flashy new pair. He’d told Ellie over dinner that he’d been maintaining the beat up old Jeep the best that he could, meaning she at least had a little bit of freedom while she was back home.

She locked the door behind her, the cool morning breeze stinging against her wet ears as she gracelessly stumbled down the stairs, juggling the bulky set of keys in her hand. A huge metal spaceship that Joel had stuffed into her Christmas stocking senior year, a neon green carabiner she’d bought at one of the gas stations closest to her school, and a few other childish charms that she couldn’t place any meaning behind swung from the nearly ancient keychain. Her sense of self expression and style back in those days was tacky to say the least, but she appreciated child-Ellie nonetheless.

“You poor child.” She teased under her breath, climbing into the driver's seat and shoving the key into the ignition. She sucked in a breath and held it before cranking it up.

To her surprise, the clunker started right up, though the engine shook the steering wheel a little when she put the thing in reverse down the driveway. She hadn’t driven a car since that night at the gas station. It felt a little weird to be behind the wheel, but even stranger to be back here. Jackson was a beautiful place. . . but it didn’t feel the same way that it had before. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her age or the changes that were happening inside of her. The streets still looked the same, aside from some very minor changes to neighbor's houses. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings when Joel had driven her through town yesterday, and she was a bit scared to see the differences. She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts or do any soul searching, so she reached out for the radio, pressing play on whatever CD had been shoved into it last.

Depeche mode began to blast over the speakers, and she let out a small sigh of relief. At least her music taste wasn’t horrible in high school.

But it was no wonder she didn’t have a girlfriend. Ellie wouldn’t have dated little Ellie either, that was for sure.

She felt a bit crazy to be driving in the opposite direction of town. Back when she lived here, town was the only place she was headed when she was allowed out of the house. It was no wonder why the two of you had never really crossed paths. She used to complain about how far off in the “middle of nowhere” Joel lived, but your farm had his ranch beat by fifteen minutes. The houses got fewer and farther in between, and despite how much Ellie truly did enjoy the city, she couldn’t deny how beautiful the countryside was. The sprawling fields, grazing animals, and splattering of wild flowers had her rolling down the windows of her car, ignoring the chill so that she could get a better look of her surroundings.

Even the air quality was better in Jackson.

She’d been down this road a few times in her life, having been in the backseat of Joel’s car every single time. She recognized your home from her memories, but your last name didn’t mean much to her back then. She slowed her car down to a crawl, staring at the large sign that sported your family name proudly.

Ellie would be proud of the farm too if it were hers. She bumped down the drive five minutes earlier than you had told her to show up, staring with wide eyes at your house. It was two stories with a balcony- white with green shutters. The wrap around porch was screened in, protecting you and any guests you might have over from bugs that thrive in the summertime heat.

Your stretch of land belonged on a painting, and for a second she worried if maybe she wasn’t the right friend for you. This house was too nice and Ellie. . . Ellie wasn’t very nice at all. She'd only talked to you for five minutes yesterday, but she got the feeling that you were a "good girl". You were wholesome, which wasn't how anyone in Ellie's life would choose to describe her. She slowly made her way up your front steps, and for a second she wondered if she should leave. It would probably be better if she did. Ellie could always just lie and tell Joel that she couldn’t find your house. . . he’d probably drop it after insulting her about her bad sense of direction.

Ellie couldn’t afford to get a crush on anyone right now either. It was horrible timing, and what would be worse is if you actually ever returned those feelings. How was she supposed to explain to you that she wouldn’t ever make a good partner? She couldn’t protect you from anything, not when any loud sounds or bright lights had her falling to her knees. She was careerless, depressed to the point where she had completely lost who she was, had a drinking problem, and was quite certain that she’d combust the second you’d touch her. She was touch and attention starved, but hadn’t remembered that she was even able to desire someone until she’d seen you yesterday-

You’d be dodging a bullet if she hightailed it right off of your property. So she turned on her heel and stared at her boots as she began walking back down your stairs. Her feet kicked up dirt as she made her way back to her jeep, hand already reaching into her pocket for her keys-

“Did I not hear you knocking on the door?” A feminine voice called out to her.

She sucked in a breath so hard that she let out a loud cough, eyes widening as she turned around to face the porch. You were wearing a pair of dirt stained jeans today, though your hair was fastened back with a white bow. Ellie, despite her previous need to protect you from herself, couldn’t fight off the urge to get closer. There was something different about you today. You were a bit manic, your hands already busying themselves with straightening out a few of the potted plants on your porch. You seemed a bit anxious, but you didn’t comment on it so neither did Ellie. Any boundaries you had yesterday with her were gone. You flashed her a wide smile, sauntering up the drive so that you could wrap her up in a tight hug.

Your arms were shaking as they weaved around her neck, pulling her in close. She froze, limbs locking up in surprise as she tried to fully grasp what was going on. You were treating her like an old friend, someone you were excited to see. Ellie didn’t know why you’d be so happy to see her. . . but then again, she was happy to see you. She remembered what Joel had said last night.

Maybe you were sick and tired of being alone.

Your bare arms were cold too- freezing as her fingers accidentally brushed the backs of them. Ellie realized that she had gotten here just in time. If anything, she cursed herself for not showing up twenty minutes earlier, if only to save you from whatever had you this shaken up.

“I probably knocked too quietly. Should have knocked louder, huh?” She mumbled, biting the inside of her cheek as she gave you a gentle squeeze.

She wasn’t used to holding someone like this that wasn’t Dina or Jesse. You felt nice in her arms. Your muscles weren’t hard or rigid like hers, you were all soft and rounded edges. Gentle curves and arms ready and willing to embrace her. Flushed cheeks and silk bows. You smelled wonderful too- sweet and floral, like Jasmine mixed with honey. She didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t seem ready to end the hug either.

You were still quivering.

“Yeah, you should have.” You agreed, giving Ellie one last squeeze before taking a few unsteady steps back.

You hadn’t been completely sure whether or not she would show up today. Waking up this early was a lot to ask of anyone, let alone someone you had just met yesterday. Still, a part of you had hoped that she would be here. On days that were this bad you found it impossible to work, no matter how busy it kept you. You often spent “mental health days” laid out by Abby’s grave or buried six feet under pillows and blankets in what used to be your shared bed.

Ellie’s presence changed things.

So you squared off your shoulders and cracked her a wide smile, praying that it looked genuine and not forced.

“Let’s hop in my truck and I’ll take you on a little tour of the property before we get started.” You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the woman take a few steps closer to you.

Ellie looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. You weren’t sure whether or not you would be able to handle her prying or the pity that would follow.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, wishing so deeply that you hadn’t woken up at all this morning. Ellie was beautiful- gorgeous even. You would have been head over heels if you had met her years ago, before. . . well, before Abby happened. Still, her beauty wasn't enough to completely distract you from your grief. A part of you felt guilty for even finding her attractive as you slid into the front seat of the truck.

Maybe that was why you’d had such a strange dream last night. Or maybe. . . maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it really was Abby trying to tell you that it was okay to move on. That was confusing to even think about, and it made you count the months since her death on both of your hands, trying to gauge if enough time really had passed. You didn’t want to be alone anymore, but the thought of being in love with anyone seemed like an impossibility. Everything was broken. How could you ever love anyone the same way that you loved Abby? You’d just be doing that other person a disservice.

That’s right, you were cursed.

You could feel Ellie’s gaze on the side of your face as you made your way down the dirt road, up towards the hen houses. You blinked a few times, the apples of your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Slowly you met her gaze, lips twitching up in a small smile as she quickly looked away from you, nervous over having been caught.

“My dad built ten large coops, so this whole fenced-in area right here is where the chickens graze.” You stopped the car and put it in park, keeping the old thing running like you usually did during your quick morning chores. Sometimes the poor truck had a hard time starting back up, and you’d probably burst into tears if your newfound friend had to walk a half mile back to the house with you.

“Do you guys have any problems with foxes?” She asked, keeping up with your fast pace as you unlatched the front of the fence for the both of you.

Your nose wrinkled in disgust, and you were quick to throw your arms up exasperatedly.

“Oh god, do we! I had to get someone out here to change out the fence just six months ago because one of those little fuckers had somehow managed to dig it’s way into their area. Killed seven of my poor girls.” You remembered how angry you were when you’d pulled up to the coops that morning. Burying seven dead hens wasn’t a pleasant experience for you, but it wasn’t something that was new. Still, you hated knowing that they’d suffered in their final moments.

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Ellie looked around the area, finding it impossible not to notice how well kept everything was. The coops were freshly painted, the grass was gorgeous and plush- bright green under her feet. Truly, your farm was an oasis. She’d never seen anything quite like it before, and you'd barely even started the tour.

“Can I hold one?” She asked meekly, smiling up at you shyly as you turned to look at her. You didn’t exactly take her as the type of girl that would want to hold a chicken, but you were happy to oblige her.

“One of my mamas just hatched a few chicks. Would you want to hold-”

“Yes.” She quickly added, jogging off in the direction that you were pointing, eager to hold anything tiny and fluffy that you had to offer.

You were shocked at the laugh that bubbled its way out of your chest. A genuine, good natured laugh that you found hard to contain as she began impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for you to catch up.

“Didn’t take you for a chicken lover, city girl.” You teased, unlatching the door for her so that she could make her way inside.

The hens squawked excitedly at your appearance, realizing they’d be able to eat their fill of grass, bugs, and dried corn. A few ran over, crowding at your ankles. Rows and rows of nests were lined up along the walls. In the back of the coop were a few small rectangular doors that you could open, which was what you used to harvest eggs. Your dad’s old coops didn’t have anything fancy like that, so you grew up having your hands pecked at. You used to run back home to your mother with blood bruises and angry, raised skin.

“I love chicks.” Ellie said simply and the double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

As if on cue one of the chickens began pecking at the woman’s ankles, earning a small hiss of surprise from her. You snorted, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t laugh at her expense. “I can’t say the feeling is mutual, apparently.” You added playfully, looking around for the yellow poof balls.

“Old news.” She was smiling at you, and something in your chest began doing awful, uncomfortable flips. For a second you even felt a bit nauseous.

Ellie wasn’t Abby, but there was something similar about the two of them. The short haired girl seemed capable and strong. There was a physical sort of confidence in the way that she walked that told you that she knew how to handle herself. You watched as she shoved her hands in her pockets, shoulders squared off, feet shoulder length apart- and it had your lips parting.

Still, you remembered Joel talking about his daughter. . . saying that she was military. You couldn’t remember which branch she belonged to, but you could tell that she was well trained. You tried to imagine what Ellie would look like if she was put in a situation where she needed to protect herself, and you found a shiver running up your spine.

There was a coldness that had been in her eyes when the two of you had first met that had chilled you to the bone. You saw none of it when you looked into her eyes now, but. . . still. . . the thought terrified you. Had those capable hands ever killed anyone before?

You felt horrible even thinking that, even going as far as to give your thigh a small slap in punishment as you bent down, knees digging into the wood shavings and hay. The chicks didn’t seem off put by your small scowl. They saw you and instantly thought “food”, which had them clumsily running in your direction. You hadn’t heard her walk up beside you, only felt the sleeve of her long sleeve shirt brush against your arm as she sat back on her haunches beside you.

“It won’t scare them if I pick them up, will it?” She asked gently, slowly reaching a hand out so that she could brush it against their plush down feathers. They chirped contentedly, unaware of what “danger” even meant yet. You were guilty of babying your chickens, meaning none of them were scared of humans. They pecked at you when they were annoyed, but were never violent per say.

“Not at all. They might seem a bit unhappy, but it’s only because they’re hungry.”

You pressed your hand to your cheek as you watched the woman pick one of the chicks up, holding the tiny thing tightly against her chest so as to not drop it. There was something almost comical about seeing the woman look this gentle, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried not to hurt the tiny thing. It was adorable. Which was terrifying for you.

You were once again reminded of your dream. . . and you didn’t think you were ready to let Abby go. Not even when Ellie looked up at you excitedly, using her free hand to gesture towards the small creature in disbelief. Almost like she was scared that even talking would frighten it.

“So what do we do now?” Ellie asked, putting the chick down so that she could stand back up. You followed her lead, making your way back over towards the door.

“We open up all the doors and let them walk around for the day. I usually come back and get them back in their coops by sundown.” You let her know, leaving the door wide open as you moved coop to coop.

Ellie helped you, cutting down the time in half. The two of you were back in the truck in record time. You showed her the fields where you planted corn in the late summer to get ready for early fall. You pointed out the small flower garden you had taken upon yourself to cultivate, and then you pulled up to the green houses. Her jaw went slack as she took in all of the buildings.

“You do all of this yourself?” She needed to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Sure, she was no farmer, but even someone like her knew just how much work this must be for you.

She couldn’t imagine you doing this all day, every day all by yourself. It kinda made her chest ache a bit for you. So when you nodded she took it upon herself to climb out of the truck, eager to do something to lighten the burden for you.

As the two of you approached what appeared to be the oldest of the greenhouses, she couldn’t help but realize that she’d been with you for about an hour. . . and she felt great. Better than great, she felt normal. She had been sent out here so that she could recover, and while she didn’t quite understand what that really and truly meant, being here with you felt right. Being around the animals felt therapeutic, and while Joel might have told you a little bit about her in passing, you didn’t know enough about Ellie to pass any sort of judgment or feel any sort of pity.

Even so, Ellie wasn’t sure she’d be against telling you about what happened. Something told her that you would be understanding. You knew what it felt like to lose people, and she was sure that you had regrets somewhere along the line. Everyone does when it comes to losing loved ones.

She hated that you had suffered enough to understand where she was coming from, but loved that she wasn’t alone for once.

The two of you walked in silence, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that let her know that you were thinking about something serious and sad. Ellie wondered whether your father was on your mind this morning. . . or perhaps your girlfriend. It wasn’t her place to ask, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to.

“Want to help me water them?” You finally asked, motioning towards the tables of plants.

She nodded, but quickly turned to face you. She couldn’t count how many green houses you had on top of this one.

“Do we water all of those plants too?” She felt stupid the second that she asked the question, but even more so when you began to giggle.

Sounding stupid was worth it to hear the sound, so she sucked it up.

“Those green houses are newer and have a built in sprinkler system. We just have to worry about this one, thankfully. We’d be here all afternoon if not.” You began to head in the direction of the hose so that you could turn it on, your stomach tightening with hunger.

You knew the second you got back to the house and made breakfast that you’d be nauseous though. Bad days like this were always the same. You were hungry but you couldn’t eat. You wanted to distract yourself but nothing would work. You wanted to talk to someone but didn’t have any friends that you trusted enough to actually. . . onload on, and you were sick of your mom crying on your behalf.

“So you’re staying with Joel now? For how long?” You decided to make small talk as you handed her the hose, walking along with her as she painstakingly paid attention to every sprout.

She licked her lips before answering you, eyes flickering in a way that made you think that she might feel a bit nervous.

“I was. . . sent here. It’s not like I don’t love being home, because I kinda do. It’s just not something that I exactly chose for myself.” That didn’t feel like the whole truth, but you supposed that she would tell you whenever she was ready.

You played with the raw hem of your old t-shirt, suddenly anxious that you might have put her in a bad spot. Still, you found yourself wanting to know more about her.

“Do you have an addiction problem?” You realized how inappropriate it was to be so blunt. Your mouth went bone dry with panic, and you were quick to grab her hand, shaking your head. “A-All I’m trying to say is that my uncle had a really bad drug problem for years. He’s been clean and sober since last Christmas and is doing great. I don’t judge, that’s all. I’m proud of you, if anything.”

She gulped, looking down at your hand and noticing how close your body was to hers now. She fumbled to turn the hose off with one hand, trying to get her breathing under control. It was twice now that you were touching her like this, and she hated herself for wanting to wrap you back up in a hug so bad. She was also trying not to notice how plush and kissable your lips were.

You smelled great too, which made it hard for Ellie to think.

“Yeah, I guess I have a bit of an addiction problem,” She mumbled, but shrugged her shoulders soon after, contradicting herself. “But that’s not really why I’m here.”

Ellie would have to tell you eventually, she supposed. If the two of you were going to be as good of friends as Joel wanted, then she’d have to fess up eventually. It was better to get it out and in the open now rather than later. Plus. . . if she had some sort of a breakdown then maybe you’d be more understanding if you knew why it was happening.

“My therapist tells me that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in the Marines and I had a really bad accident. So. . . it was hard for me to live alone.” Ellie stared down at a long-dead leaf on the ground and bent down to pick it up, gently playing with it’s crinkled edges.

“Did you have panic attacks? I have those sometimes too.” You wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone, as stupid as it might sound.

You wanted to relate to her without telling her that your girlfriend had also been a Marine. She was being vulnerable with you, and the last thing you wanted to do was make this moment about you by bringing up your deceased girlfriend.

“Yeah. . . Yeah, I have those a lot. Sometimes I lose track of time- disassociate. It’s scary for others to deal with, so my friends thought that it would be best if I were with Joel. There’s less triggers here than back in Chicago.” You could tell that she was still uncomfortable with the subject matter, but she was powering through.

Ellie appreciated that there wasn’t a hint of judgment in your tone. You genuinely seemed curious. . . and talking about herself like this felt good. Validating, even.

“What triggers you? I just want to make sure that I don’t overstep or accidentally do anything wrong-”

“No, no. You’re fine. It’s more so loud noises and bright lights.”

“So no gunshots?”

“Guns aren’t too bad. . . it’s more so car crashes. Explosions, you know?”

Your mouth went dry. You did know. It’s how Abby died, afterall. You hated that Ellie had gone through something similar. Your heart ached for her.

“Is that how you got this. . . ?” You began to brush your fingers against the scar over her eye. You froze as she flinched, guilt bottoming out your stomach as you quickly yanked your hand away.

She reached out to take your elbow into her calloused hand before you could drop your palm back down at your side, and pressed your fingers against the skin herself. Her skin was still soft, but raised and jagged. You’d never felt a scar this deep before. Still, it was warm under your touch. Alive.

The moment felt oddly intimate, and you kept your fingers there for a few seconds too long before dropping your hand back at your side. Ellie felt like she was going to explode. No one had ever wanted to touch her scar, let alone been allowed to.

“Yeah, It is.” She cleared her throat, grabbing one of her arms in her hands nervously. She was starting to realize that she didn’t mind being seen by you. “I’m legally blind in the eye now, which has been pretty hard to get used to.”

“So you can’t see at all out of it?” You questioned, beginning to walk back over towards the repotting station. You’d noticed a few sprouts that were getting a little too big for their pots, and the last thing you wanted was crowded roots.

She followed after you like a lost puppy, hot on your trail. “I can see shapes and colors. Movement, and everything. But if you held up your hand and asked me “how many fingers am I holding up”, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” She’d practically had to relearn how to do everything again, as dramatic as that sounded. Losing the vision of one eye affected a lot more than one might think.

“Oh, shit.” You remarked, nose wrinkling up in sympathy. You couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been on top of dealing with the mental anguish of the accident.

“ ‘Oh, shit’ is right.” She agreed with a small smile, leaning her hip against the table as you began laying out the necessary supplies. She watched your hands as they moved expertly around the table, eyes locked on your fingers. “I used to be beautiful.” She joked absentmindedly, alluding to the scar that now marred her features.

“You’re still beautiful.” You said, fully concentrated on the task at hand.

You didn’t realize the weight that your words carried, nor Ellie’s reaction to them. She felt like a giddy teenager. She couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. She was smitten.

You were the first person to treat her like an actual human being since the incident. This was the most alive she’d felt in almost a year. . . and she was talking about things. Not like she might talk to her therapist, it was different than that. She was talking to someone that wanted to get to know her, not just to diagnose her, but to understand her. It felt good. Really good. Sickeningly good.

And you thought she was beautiful.

“Do you want to help me repot these little guys?” You asked, motioning towards the tiny pots.

She was scared of killing your seedlings but nodded anyway, desperate for your approval. Ellie watched as you demonstrated the entire thing for her, praying to god she wouldn’t forget a step.

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, shaking out roots and gently tucking the plants into their new homes. It was calming- melodic, almost. The constant motion, the gentle noises of the wilderness all around you. Ellie could even feel herself getting good at it. Not as good as you, of course. . . but she wasn’t as bad as she thought she would be.

You watched as she rolled her sleeves up and over her forearms, taking a second to appreciate her hands. Once again, you felt guilty for being so attracted to her. Strands of auburn hair had fallen out from behind her ear and hung in her pale face as she focused on her task. Her strong hands worked methodically. Her veins, her knuckles, her forearms and biceps- Ellie wasn’t just beautiful but gorgeous.

‘Give me a sign, Abby. If I’m not reading too far into last night's dream. . . then just give me some sort of a sign.’ You thought to yourself, eyebrows furrowing as you packed more dirt around the seedling in your hand. You felt like you were being horrifically dramatic, but what else could you do?

You felt idiotic. Delusional, even.

Beside you Ellie continued to work, completely unaware of your building turmoil. Pot after pot, she was really getting the hang of it. Pack down a layer of dirt, shake out roots, pack dirt on top- repeat.

She reached out for another one of the black plastic pots, sliding it over in front of her. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the rattling. She’d been so close to covering up whatever was at the bottom with dirt, but the sunlight caught whatever it was just right.

It sparkled.

Ellie pinched the object between two dirt coated fingers, her eyebrows practically raising up to her hairline as she realized that it was a ring. A valuable looking one, at that.

“Uh. . . is this yours?” Ellie asked, showing it to you.

You blinked a few times at the ring, scared for a moment that you were hallucinating, because things like this only happened in movies. People asking for signs from the other side only for a ghostly apparition to pop up on screen.

Still, that was your promise ring in Ellie’s hand.

Your bottom lip quivered, eyes filling up with tears before you could even stop them. You reached out with gentle fingers, taking it into your hand graciously.

“Thank you.”

And you weren’t sure if you were talking to Ellie. . . or Abby.

✦ want to be the first to know when i post? message me about being put on the taglist!

@viswifetotallyreal @lillysbigwilly @overtrred28 @corpsebridenightamare @jokerpokimoon @macaroni676 @eveshyper @lil-elliesgf @fuckingstarellie @gold-dustwomxn @madislayyy @moonbluz @vianna99 @sawaagyapong @mrsromanoff @glory-grl @sadeyedsugar @inf3ct3dd @teatimedisaster @laucalo @ellieswilliamsgf @machetegirl109 @moonchild184 @onlinelesbo @lasting-lover @luvrrcharr @koremis @elsmissingfingers @whoreshores @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @circe-is-struggling @cqrrnts @elliewilliamsmiller0 @harrysslutsstuff @shewantstoknow @laundrybag29 @darkerstarsstuff @elliesdesperatewife @rulerzreachf4n44 @eviestevie-14 @deliriousrn @diddiqueen @bready101 @felsweb @jaeminpookie @elliesswearjar @2012wannabe @abbysbae @boobabietch @amorqts

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makethatelevenrings · 11 months

Text

Contaminated // D. Grayson x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. Minors get BACK. Go yearn for the mines awaY FROM HERE. Emotions! Sex pollen but it’s enthusiastic consent. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Three months ago, Dick Grayson told you he didn’t love you anymore and walked out the door. Tonight, you found yourself the unwitting victim of a Poison Ivy attack that forces Dick Grayson to end up on your doorstep once again. Will he help or will he leave once again?

Your hands shook as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Your skin prickled as the fabric of your hoodie scraped against the sensitive skin of your arms. A desperate whimper escaped your lips at the way your very cells seemed to burn with the strength of a thousand suns.

Somehow you got your mind straight long enough to lock the door behind you before you stumbled towards your bedroom. You kicked off your shoes as you went and your hoodie soon followed. Fuck, it wasn’t enough. Everything was hot but at the same time, you felt sweaty and chilled like you had a fever.

Something was wrong.

Grabbing your phone, you fought against the blurring of your vision in order to locate the contact you needed. You knew she would pick up the phone in seconds because she was glued to her tech everyday.

“What’s up, babes?” Barbara answered after the first ring. “If you’re calling to reschedule brunch, I have terrible news for you. I won’t allow you to skip out aga-”

“Babs,” you rasped. “Something’s wrong.”

The cheery tone fell from the redhead’s voice in seconds and you heard her start typing on her keyboard. “Where are you?”

“Home. I was walking home from work when Ivy attacked the park and I think I inhaled some of the spores. I don’t…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Barbara swore under her breath. “The closest person to you is Nightwing.”

Your heart dropped. No. Not him. “Who else?”

“Everyone else is busy. I’m sorry, but I’m sending him.”

Your stomach cramped painfully, nearly knocking you to your knees, and you let out a groan. “Okay, okay. Fuck it. Fine.”

“We’re going to help you. I promise. I have to go handle something right now, but I’ll make sure I check on you.”

“Thanks, Babs.” Your breath escaped you in short pants, like a dog in heat. Fuck, it was hot in here. You wanted nothing more than to strip off your pants and shirt and lay on the cool tile of your bathroom, but you couldn’t. Not when he was coming over.

Richard Grayson, your ex boyfriend. Richard Grayson, the man who came over one night three months ago and broke up with you on your doorstep. Richard Grayson, the man you had loved for years until your heart shattered with a few words.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he had said. And then he dropped a box of your things on the doorstep and walked out of your life.

Fuck Dick Grayson. Fuck Nightwing. Fuck him and his pretty boy smile. He could go to hell.

“Shit.” As if the mere thought of your ex triggered it, you were suddenly acutely aware of the seam of your pants pressing against the sensitive flesh of your cunt. Shit shit shit, you cannot be horny in front of Dick Grayson. You just needed to keep a level and calm head until he gave you the antidote and then you could send him out on his ass.

Another wave of shaking wracked through your body and you let out a hiss of pain, doubling over until your face met the soft fabric of your comforter. Your body joined you on the mattress and you pulled yourself up until your cheek rested on the cool rayon fabric of the pillow. Curling your knees up towards your chest, you let the shakes consume you and prayed that Dick wasn’t so over you that he refused to come.

As though he heard your thoughts, you heard the window to your living room slide open. The slight screech of the old rubber sides sounded faster than normal and you figured he just wanted to get this over with.

The window shut and footsteps pounded towards the door to your bedroom. Your teeth chattered violently as you shook with this hellish hot/cold state your body had been thrust into. The shaking made it hard for you to lift your head, but you were able to make eye contact with the last man you wanted to see.

“Fuck,” Dick said in greeting. “Babs said Ivy got you, but she didn’t say it was this bad.”

You willed your jaw to stop rattling and shrugged. “Ran home so I didn’t pass out on the sidewalk or something.”

He stripped off his glove and pressed the back of his hand against your cheek. Shit. Oh fuck. Just the feel of his skin against yours was euphoric. A small mewl escaped you and your back arched in some desperate attempt to get closer to him. Dick ripped his hand away, a panicked look flitting across his masked face.

“Damnit Ivy,” he snarled.

“Am I dying?” It certainly felt like it. Your skin prickled painfully at the loss of contact and you tried to hold back the burn of tears that grew in your eyes.

“No, you’re not dying.” His hand drifted up to his ear where you knew a comms device rested. “Ivy hit her with sex pollen.”

A startled, albeit bitter, laugh escaped you and you shook your head. Of fucking course. Sex pollen meant you would have to wait for the antidote and get progressively hornier and in more pain. Or you could get off…

On autopilot, your hand drifted down to the waistband of your pants but the small part of your brain still in control screamed at you to stop. Tearing your hand away, you inhaled deeply and pressed your face further into the pillow. Not when he’s here.

“Just go get the antidote and I’ll suffer for a bit,” you snapped.

Dick barked out a sardonic laugh. “Do you really think I’m going to leave you like this?” Oh, the irony. If you weren’t burning up, you would laugh in his face and tell him to get the fuck out. All you could manage was glaring at him from your fetal position.

“I thought leaving was your specialty,” you hissed, venom lacing your tone. Your barb made a direct hit because his trained impassive face crumpled for a brief second. The cool drag of a tear along your cheek made you aware of the rising heat in your face and you brushed the tear away.

“Fuck you Richard Grayson. I know you don’t want to be here so you can go. I’ll just wait until someone can bring me the antidote.”

“You’re in pain,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, well, as if you care. I’ll just call Wally or Kaldur. Hell, I’ll call up Jason. I’m sure he won’t mind helping.”

“Stop,” he growled. “You won’t call anyone. I’m here. I’ll help you.”

Despite the aching weakness in your bones, you pushed up off the mattress so you could face him fully. Your arms trembled with exertion, but somehow you held yourself up.

“You left me. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me or whatever, but you left me and so you don’t have a right to be concerned. So do what you do best, Dick, and leave.” You were impressed by the way your voice stayed firm despite the tears streaming down your face. You were bracing yourself to see him walk out once more, leaving you in pain, both emotional and physical this time.

He turned away, showing you the kevlar spandex weave of his suit on full display. Just a few more steps and he would be out the window and out of your life again. Your breath caught in your throat, the pain surging through your veins. You whimpered and started to slowly lower yourself back down, but two strong hands settled on your shoulder and waist. Dick curled himself around you as if he could protect you from the fire licking at your insides. You shuddered at the firm pressure of his hands on you and in the moment of clarity, raised your chin to meet his gaze.

He had taken the mask off.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

His head lowered and he inhaled deeply before speaking once more. “I can’t, baby. You’re not thinking straight.”

Clasping your hands against his cheeks, you drew his head up and leveled him with a look. “Please, Dick. Make the pain go away.”

You had missed the taste of him. Dick’s hands drifted down to your hips as he slotted his lips against yours and pushed you back to lay against the bed. A gasp escaped you and he swallowed it with his tongue that pushed into your mouth. Everything was happening so quickly that it made your head spin in the best way possible. You shuddered as he unbuttoned your pants and slipped his long fingers under the band of your underwear.

“Oh,” you moaned as he brushed the rough pad of his finger along your slit. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat before nipping at the soft skin of your jaw. Your legs closed instinctively as the toxin mixed with instinctive lust surged through your veins. Dick tutted and tugged at the hem of your shirt. You let him remove it and then he made quick work of your pants and underwear.

And then he stood up, unzipped his suit, and revealed the body you had dreamed about for nights.

Dick wasted no time in scooping you up and settling you between his legs, your back against his chest. One of his hands tugged your knee, pulling your legs apart, as the other drifted down to your soaked pussy.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he purred as you sagged against his chest. Dick nuzzled his nose against your temple as his fingers rubbed in lazy circles over your swollen cunt. Anytime your hips shifted, he made sure to keep you steadily locked in his hold.

“That feel good, baby?” he breathed. You nodded, too blissed out to speak, and he grinned that cocky smile you missed so much. Dick tipped your chin back and pulled you in for a filthy kiss, his tongue searching your mouth and leaving the lingering taste of his peppermint gum on your lips.

Your orgasm rocked through you faster than you expected thanks to the pollen flooding your veins. Legs trembling, you shook and thrashed against Dick as your cunt clenched around empty air. Dick held you tightly against him and continued his ministrations until you were whining about how it was-

“Too much. Ah! Dick, too much.”

“You’re still burning up, baby,” he murmured.

“I need your cock. I need you to fuck me again. I missed the feel of you in me, Dick.”

His tongue trailed along the sweaty line of your neck and your back arched off of his chest as he left along a cool trail. His slick soaked fingers drifted up to rub and pinch your nipples, alternating between both with equal devotion.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” he panted. “Tell me, baby. Did another man make you feel as good as I do?”

“No!” You needed him to fill you. You would combust if his long cock didn’t enter you in the next five seconds. You struggled against his grip in an attempt to flip yourself over and ride him, but Dick was too strong.

“No,” you gasped. “I touched myself and thought of you. No other man could satisfy me.”

As though you were a delicate package, he cradled your head as he slid you down onto the mattress and slotted himself between your spread thighs.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess.”

Any retort left you as your mouth dropped open. Three months without him had made you forget how fully he consumed you. Your folds parted as he split you open with his shaft, whimpers and pants escaping him as he slowly and surely slid into your waiting body. He hefted your legs up and you wrapped them around his waist as he finally bottomed out.

“I missed you,” he murmured.

You, your traitorous mind echoed. Not this. You.

No. This was just his way of helping you.

A throaty groan tore past your lips as he pulled out, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls, and then pushed back in. Your eyes rolled back as he brushed against your g-spot. He was more than just his name, not by much. Dick Grayson laid pipe like he was a union plumber going on forty-five years.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Grayson.”

He yanked his hips back and drilled into your cunt. You clawed at his back as he started to jackhammer into you. The fever was slowly abating as your second orgasm built. You lifted your hands to play with your own tits but he batted them away. Dick ducked his head down and enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking at the soft skin there. The constant stimulation adding to the electricity surging through your veins and you threw your head back. Dick let go of your breast with a soft pop and he stroked your cheek, dragging your attention back to him.

“Look at that, princess. Look at how well you take me,” he said. You nodded dumbly at his words and he forced your head up. Your gaze fixed on the way his cock slid in and out of you and, coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, had your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

“That’s it. There’s my good girl. You were made to take me. I missed fucking this pretty pussy. I. missed. you.” He punctuated the last three words with deep thrusts before he pulled out and let his cum streak along your tits. Dick’s chest heaved with exertion but he reached up and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and then to your cheeks.

“How…how is it?” you asked.

He scooted back a bit and leaned forward so he was bracketing your hips. “You like doggy style, right?”

A pounding headache and a dry mouth was your morning gift. The warmth of the sun touched your cheeks gently and you relaxed when you realized you were no longer sweating buckets and burning up.

But a heavy, warm presence was still in your bed.

You slowly turned over to face Dick who was already awake. He reached up and checked your temperature again before offering you a wry smile. “Fever broke. You passed out around orgasm number six. I got you some water and snacks and you’ll need to take a shower. I can start the laundry once you’re in the shower. I’ll wait to leave until you’re feeling alright. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

Your heart ached at the tenderness of his words. This was the man who practically launched himself off the couch to get you a bandaid after you gave yourself a papercut while reading a book. This was the man who kept your favorite coffee and tea stocked at his place. This was the man who walked out on you and told you that he didn’t love you anymore.

“Dick…” Your soft voice stopped him from climbing out of the bed. He settled in next to you, the thin sheet pooling at his waist and revealing his well-muscled torso.

“I left because they put a hit on your head,” he said. Warm breath washed over your face and you shivered at the contact. His azure eyes searched your face before he continued.

“I couldn’t risk losing you. Permanently. I’ve buried too many people, baby, and I refuse to lose you until you’re old and gray.”

“No one knows I’m connected to Nightwing,” you whispered.

“No, but they know you were connected to Dick Grayson. There are a lot of people that aren’t happy about what I’ve been doing to help Bludhaven. I’ve made enemies and they knew exactly where to target.”

“But Nightwing stopped them, right?”

His full lips lifted at the corners, amused at your unfailing trust in him, and he nodded. “Destroyed their entire operation.”

“So there was no threat.”

His eyes softened and he reached up to touch your cheek. “Being with me puts you at risk. Always.”

“I never felt as safe as I did with you. Last night, you helped me because you would never let anything hurt me. Right? You’ll never let anyone hurt me.”

He moved in close and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips drifted down to lay a kiss to each eyelid, cheek, your nose, chin, and finally landing on your lips. This wasn’t the rushed, burning kisses from the night before.

This was soft and gentle and, underneath the veneer of sweetness, it was an apology.

“I’ll go get the shower started so it’s warm,” he murmured once he pulled away. “And I’ll cook breakfast while you’re getting clean.”

“And we’ll talk?”

He smiled. Not the fake media smile he perfected years ago. Not the confident, cocky grin he gave his teammates. It was the smile only you saw. The soft, tender curve of his lips as his vulnerability shone through.

“Yeah.” His fingers interlaced with yours. “We’ll talk.”

Tag List: @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @bunny-kawa @khaylin27

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing smut #nightwing #dick grayson smut

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ceeplays · 4 months

Text

Favorite Default Replacements & Game Override Mods (Part 1 - Object Overrides)

A compiled list of my favorite default replacement and override mods from the past year, plus a few classics that I just couldn't leave out. This is Part 1/3 of a collection of cc finds.

(More info and download links below the cut). ♥

𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

I hope you all had a lovely, restful holiday, and that the bugs in For Rent haven't made you rage quit just yet. •ᴗ• I don't know about you guys, but lately I've been feeling extra grateful for all the stunning creations our modding community has been releasing. So, I figured I'm long overdue for another mod rec list and voila! - here we are.

This time, I'll be linking my favorite default replacement and override mods! While I mostly focused on newer releases, I also tried to add some overrides I don't frequently see mentioned on YT or in rec lists.

The original post got quite lengthy, so Tumblr forced me to divide this list into three (3) separate parts (sorry for the inconvenience!). - Part 2: Food & Kitchen, and World Overrides (here) - Part 3: Electronics & Font Replacements (here)

As always, I hope you find this useful, happy holidays to all who celebrate, & happy simming! ♥

------------------₊˚⊹♡

Object Overrides:

@kirsicca : (1) The Modern Loveseat, (2) The Amaranth Sink, (3) Barely-Used BG Toilets

@surely-sims : (1) Growing Together Treehouse (becomes seasonal), (2) Vanity Make-Up Props, (3) Fire Alarm, (4) No Footprint Sleeping Bags, (5) Invisible Bassinet, (6) Basinet, (7) Booboo Billy Toy, (8) Nesting Blocks

@depthofpixels-cc : (1) Growing Together Treehouse Slide

@cowplant-snacks : (1) Seasons Holiday Tree

@lonvely : (1) Magnolia Promenade Trolley, (2) Toothbrush

@symphonysim : (1) Horse Grooming Tools

@dscombobulate : (1) Boxing Gloves, (2) Toothbrush

@superflare : (1) Infant & Toddler Sippy Cup

@simder-talia-blog (original creator unknown) : (1) Ice Skates

@elflike : (1) Ice Skates

@duplica-imite : (1) Ice Skates

@vroshii : (1) Ping Pong Paddle (becomes tennis racket)

@myxdollyt : (1) Fenty Make-Up Override, (2) Bratz Make-Up Override

@simmerwellpupper : (1) Game Controller (PS5 DualSense Controller)

@largetaytertots : (1) Default Replacement Haul (Lipstick, Pet Carrier, Mop, Pet Leash, Rake, Snow Shovel, Infant Toy, & more!), (2) Laundry Pile, (3) Folded Laundry, (4) Razor, (5) Cleaning Overrides (Sponge & Cleaning Spray)

@vixonspixels : (1) Female Roller Blades, (2) Folded Laundry, (3) Infant Bath Sponge, (4) High School Bus, (5) Restaurant Menu, (6) High School Homework, (7) High School Textbook, (8) University Homework, (9) Pencil, (10) Dog Leash

@bbygyal123 : (1) Infant Carrier

@apricotrush : (1) Scrub Daddy Sponge, (2) Presents, (3) Cleaning Spray

@serkisyan : (1) Playing Cards, (2) Make-Up, (3) Mail Envelopes/Bills, (4) Paint Brush/Easel Pencil, (5) Electric Toothbrush, (6) Charcoal Toothbrush, (7) Infant Bottle, (8) Cleaning Spray #1, (9) Cleaning Spray #2

@channel4sims-cc : (1) Aquarium Fish, (2) Kitchen Sponge, (3) Infant Bath Seat, (4) Infant Rubber Duck

@sims41ife : (1) Totoro Watering Can, (2) Laundry Bag & Pile, (3) Public Phone Booth (includes simlish swatches), (4) Game Controller, (5) Coffee Cup

@awingedllama : (1) Infant Crib, (2) Game Controller, (3) Bassinet

@cecesimsxo : (1) Infant Bottle

@ellcrze : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Sponge

@bellassims : (1) Mysims Trophies (become squishmallows), (2) Mysims tTophies (become tsum tsum plushies), (3) Mysims Trophies (become disney tsum tsums)

@cocoelleansims : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Grocery Bag, (3) Plopsy (becomes etsy)

@imfromsixam : (1) Infant Bottle, (2) Infant Rug, (3) Stand Mixer, (4) Invisible Bassinet

@hydrangeachainsaw : (1) Game Controller #1, (2) Game Controller #2, (3) Infant Bath Seat, (4) Infant Bottle (warning - paywalled)

@pixelvibes : (1) Elephant Watering Can (warning - paywalled), (2) Infant Bath Seat (warning - paywalled)

------------------₊˚⊹♡

the end! ♥

#ceesfinds #ts4 default replacement #ts4 overrides #ts4overrides #ts4defaultreplacement #ts4 #thesims4 #simblr

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sweet-honey-tears · 1 year

Text

If They Where Dads

Fluff head cannons! 🤍

Gender neutral reader. Kinda sounds like reader gave births but I kinda figured it’s either adoption or a quirk that can combine dna. Idk.

Feel free to leave request for other characters!

Daycare pick up head cannon

Aged up of course!!

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

“She's beautiful”

“Daddy’s gonna buy you the fucking world.”

Big red eyes stared back as tiny hands gripped scared calloused fingers.

He would teach his kids sign language incase he ever does lose his hearing.

Is the type of dad that just carries the baby because fuck the stroller and shit- he’s a walking one that can also rock the little monster to sleep.

Will call the baby ‘Mini SpitFire’ and ‘Adorable Monster’(better than dumbass)

Will sign his daughter(and future kid- aka his baby boy) up for karate

And if his kid doesn’t have a quirk, he’s going to sign them up for a bunch of self-defense classes. He wants to protect them from people like him growing up.

Your phone Lock Screen is a picture of your toddler mid-sprint to the door as Katsuki is crouched with arms wide open. He had just gotten off a patrol, his hair mused and masked pushed up. His gauntlets pushed to the side. His face was dirty and stained. But his smile was huge and little tears are in his eyes from seeing his little mini spitfire come running to him.

“Don’t post that”

“But Kat-“

“No”

Can't let the public know king explosion murder is a big old softy. No, that is only for his family.

🦈Eijiro Kirishima🦈

Dude freaked out when he found out it’s gonna be twins- girls a matter of fact’ As babies, he’d put them in little shark onesies and then put on his own.

Your Lock Screen is a picture of your two beautiful twin girls in these little onesies and your Home Screen is Pro Hero Red Riot in a large Great White Shark onesie holding his two lovely(in shark onesies) twin girls in each of his arms. A big, proud, sharp smile stretched on his face.

He is the kind of dad to strap one of the girls to his chest, the other girl you have strapped to yours. There is totally a picture on the fridge of you two like that.

Would call his girls:

“Little riot, stop pulling your sister's hair!”

“Sharky, you shouldn’t be up there!”

The girls will call you Mama Papa, or Sharky Shark. (So- MommaShark! SharkyShary or ShaSha!) They call Kiri Daddy Shark.

The girls have shark plushies, cat ones, and so many plushies! One of the girls’ favorites, when they were toddlers, was a Red Riot plush. They’d hold it so damn tight whenever Kiri had to leave on a long mission.

They call the Bakuquad the following when they are very young:

Uncle Bak-uh-dough

Unky Serooooo

Aunty Mina

Unk Donkey or Denks (purely because Denki will make a goofy face when they say it)

Also, I think Testu would still pop by and the girl would call him Test.

⚡️Denki⚡️

Would freak the fuck out when he finds out but also be so excited

Will call the baby “Sparky!” And bakugou will say it sounds like you're calling a dog-

⚡️“ but you use to call me stuff like that-“

“Yeah I know”

⚡️“ but you said it sounds like a dog-“

“Yup”

Bakuogou felt a light hit to the back of his head. You walk past him while holding your/Denki’s baby. He just laughs. What? You’d think he’d do or say something to a woman holding a baby. Fuck no.

There’s a picture on your phone of Denki holding your baby, who is fast asleep, with rubber gloves on his hands. He’s being incredibly careful now. Wearing rubber gloves to ensure he never accidentally sparks the baby. He keeps getting excited every time he sees you two. That’s your Home Screen FWI.

The baby does have a Pikachu onesie. And a hat with the ear sticking up. As well as a Pokeball pillow(Mina got them for Christmas)

I feel like Shinso stops over a lot too. Like these guys are really good friends in the future.

“Uncle Shin!”

“Hey there Spark” he would totally gift the baby little cat stuffed animals and cat hairpins.

▪️🔸Sero🔸▪️

Sero would be surprised but stay chill.

Sero would call his baby girl:

“Hermosa (beautiful) you gotta wake up. We have to get ready for school”

Would teach his daughter Spanish(assuming you also know it too)

The girl's room is decorated with plants and cute food tapestries. There would definitely be one of those egg nest swings in the room(the ones above ground and hanging from the wall). He would hold the baby and rock them to sleep in it.

I feel like the baby would have a really cute, soft, cartoon ‘spider’ plush. But it’s not even really a spider- but a blob with a ‘:3’ face and eight legs. Totally has cat ears. Sero found it one day and was like ‘yup, that’s coming home’.

You couldn’t stop laughing when you saw it, you frickin love it.

Sero brings home the cutest but most random stuffed animals and toys. Ones that are just funny and adorable but make no fucking sense.

At an older age, Sero would definitely play with his daughter via his quirk. Your lock Screen is a picture of your daughter hanging upside down, her ‘spider’ plush hanging in her hand.

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viking-raider · 1 year

Text

The Golden Egg - Cotton Candy Fluff

Summary: It's Easter! So, you and Henry have an Easter Egg Hunt. One for Kal, then go head-to-head against each other, to see who can find their eggs the fastest.

But what happens, when Henry finds the Golden Egg, you left him.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Soft!Henry, Fluff, Kal, Short Person Joke, Competition, Easter, Competitive!Henry, Domestic Bliss, Instagraming, Surprise Ending

Inspiration: It's Easter. I wrote this in an hour. This video of Good.Boy.Ollie on instagram.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

“So, explain this to me again?” Henry laughed, folding his arms over his heaving chest, as he laughed.

“I wanna do an Easter Egg hunt for Kal.” You repeat to yourself, narrowing your eyes at your near hysterical boyfriend.

“The Bear doesn't get the concept of Easter, let alone an Easter Egg hunt, babe.” He howled, his curly head rolling back with its mirth.

“So!” You huffed, pouting at him. “I think it's cute. I also want us to do one. To see who can find the most. The fastest.”

Henry sobered up a tad at that. “All right, babe. You're on.” He smirked, cupping your face in his hands and gently kissing your forehead. “Which do you want to do first?”

“Kal.”

“Done.” He nodded, dropping his hands and looking over the colorful sea of plastic eggs and prizes to put inside of them, that you'd come home with a short time before. “You know, my fans would absolutely eat this all up.” He remarked to himself, biting the corner of his lip and thinking it over, then glanced at you.

“Can I film it?”

“If you want to, Puppy.” You replied, grabbing a four pack of jumbo eggs and ripped it open.

“Sweet, I'll be right back. While you figure out what you're doing--” He waved his hands over the cluttered dining table. “Here.” He chuckled, before rushing off.

Looking over the prizes, you picked out a cute dog toy. It was made of rubber and looked like a throwing stick. You had gotten it cause Kal was a beast of a chewer, when it came to his toys, and this one was supposed to be nearly indestructible. Fitting it inside the bright yellow, jumbo egg, you dropped a couple of Kal's favorite peanut butter and blueberry treats in with it, so he had something to sniff out, then closed it.

You had a reasonable amount of the eggs filled up for the hunts, when Henry finally came back into the dining room, kissing the back of your bent head.

“Everything is set up.” He informed you, casting his eyes over the booty. “You want some help?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” You replied, tilting your head back, smiling appreciatively at him.

“Is there a method to your madness?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you.

“The eggs on the right are Kal's.” You motioned to the cluster. “I don't fancy getting a squeak toy or dog biscuits, during my hunt.”

Henry's face twisted and he shook his head. “No, I don't either.” He snorted, dropping some chocolates into the egg he grabbed.

“All right, here we go!” Henry exclaimed, grinning, as the two of you finished hiding the eggs, all while his phone recorded on a tripod, he planned on editing everything down later on. “Kal!” He called out and smiled, as the Bear came charging through the open slider and into the backyard.

“Are you ready to do your hunting?” He asked, bending over to scratch the Akita all over.

You and Henry had made sure to hide his eggs in, more or less, obvious places. But a couple had Kal working for them, like one small egg slipped between the braided fabric of his rope pull. Kal was slow at first, sniffing at the eggs, letting out little snorts as his nose picked up the scent of his treats inside of them. You were worried for a bit, that it was a flop. Making your heart sink. But when Kal found the stick toy, it was as if something magical sparked inside the Akita.

And he went wild.

Kal started zooming around the entire yard, diving into the manicured bushes and making them shake as he ran between them and the border fence. He rooted around the patio furniture, nearly knocking over Henry's big, green grill for a hot pink egg that was there; containing three different treats. He finally tackled the last egg, one of the jumbos, behind a large stone planter.

Bouncing around it so ecstatically, Henry couldn't take it from him to open and reveal what was inside.

“Kal.” Henry cracked up. “Let's see what Mama put in it for you, Bear!” He finally managed to swipe it away from the pup and crack it open, discovering the surprise. “Oh my god! Look, Kal!” He dissolved into a fresh fit of laughter, holding out a plush, taffy-pink, pig.

Kal bounced on his front paws, so he stood on his back legs and took the toy out of Henry's hand, finding the noise maker with his mighty jaws and causing the lightly stuffed pig to scream out a stream of oinks.

“Do you like it, Bear?” You giggled, grinning at him, relieved that Kal's egg hunt had ended so well.

“That pig is going to drive us bonkers, until he murders it.” Henry said, wiping tears from his bearded face.

“I know it is, but I couldn't help buying it.” You confessed, watching Kal go to town on the poor thing. “Look how cute it is, and he clearly loves it.”

“Right, well.” Henry sighed, composing himself. “Kal's hunt is over. Now, it's time for our Battle Egg-royal!” He proclaimed, a competitive expression coming over his face. “You're going first. So, go inside and I'll hide your eggs.”

“Very well.” You nodded, kissing his cheek.

“Mind yourself!” He called, as you headed inside with Kal. “No cheating!”

“I would never!” You huffed back at him, feigning insult.

Henry grabbed the basket of eggs he had made for you and got to work hiding them all over the backyard, pausing in front of camera for a moment, a cheeky look on his face, even though it wasn't live, he couldn't help it.

“No, watching my stream, babe!” He laughed, then went back to hiding the rest of his eggs.

Satisfied with where his eggs were, Henry opened the slider and called you back outside.

“I have the stopwatch pulled up on my mobile.” You said, handing it over to Henry.

“All right.” He nodded, taking it from you. “Ready. Set.”

He stood there for a moment and you stared at him.

“Henry!”

“Huh? Oh, right. GO!”

Rolling your eyes, you shot off the patio and started searching the area. Henry trailing after you. You found the first egg balanced on a stone column that a pot of flowers were situated on. Shaking it, you heard the egg-shaped chocolates inside. Henry held out your Easter basket, so you could store your found eggs and not worry about holding them or accidentally rediscovering them. You found a jumbo egg next, inside Henry's grill, which had you giggling.

“Oh, that's so cruel, Henry.” You huffed, finding your last three eggs lined up in a row, on top of the fence, out of your reach.

Henry smiled at you, triumphantly, his nose wrinkling cutely. “Hop, short stuff.”

“You'll pay for this later, Cavill.” You warned, narrowing your eyes at him and jumped for the eggs, just managing to grab them, without knocking them into the neighbor's yard on the other side.

“I doubt you can put anything out of my reach, Bean.” Henry quipped, winking at you, then glanced down at your phone. “Eighteen minutes.” He smiled, kissing your cheek. “Not a bad time, babe.”

“Thank you, now get your butt out of the yard!” You said, pointing towards the house.

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, obediently. “I'll take your basket inside with me.”

Biting your lip, you glanced around the yard and quickly got to work, trying to find the hardest places for him to find his eggs. Wanting payback for the shenanigans of those eggs on the fence. You even moved a few eggs a couple times, feeling like they were too easy to find, before you finally let Henry come back into the yard with you.

“It took you longer to hide them, than find them, sugar butt.” Henry commented, amused as he scanned the yard, trying to give himself a head start.

“I wasn't making it easy for you.” You said, setting up the stopwatch. “Ready. Steady. Go!” You barked, jumping up and down.

Henry quickly hurried off the patio, his first target was his grill. You had put an egg there for Kal and he had put one there for you. So, he had felt you'd follow that theme. But, alas, when he opened the hammered dome, he found it egg free. Eyes narrowing, he looked around and under it as well.

Still, no egg.

“Come on, Puppy.” You laughed, wickedly. “I said, I wasn't going to make it easy on you.”

“True.” He hummed back, shooting a narrow eyed look at you, before slowly scanning the yard again. “AH-HUH!” He exclaimed, spotting a small point of neon yellow under the hedge, that led towards the side of the house.

Making for the egg, Henry happened to catch the flicker of something out of the corner of his eye in the process and came to an abrupt stop. Turning towards it, he gently parted the flowers in the stone planter and reached inside, plucking out a pastel green egg. He held it up with a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun.

“Two already!” He said, dropping the egg in his basket, and grabbed the other one.

From there, your strategy steadily went downhill. He found three more eggs within a span of a minute and five after that. You looked down at the stopwatch and felt your stomach clench. Henry's hunt was six minutes in and he had found almost all his eggs, leaving him on course to beat you.

“There you are, little bugger.” Henry grinned, finding the turquoise egg in the drain spout. “What's the time, love?” He asked, dropping it into the basket with the rest.

“Fifteen minutes.” You informed him, sighing.

Henry's arms shot up into the air. “Yes, I win!” He grinned, wiggling his muscular body in a victory dance.

“No.” You shook your head at him.

“What?” He frowned at you. “You found your last egg in eighteen minutes and I just found mine at fifteen, baby.” He explained to you, his arms falling back to his sides. “I beat you by three minutes.”

“But you missed one, Bear.” You told him, calmly.

“Where?” Henry snapped, blinking at you.

“Right there.” You said, pointing to a gold egg resting peacefully in the grass, at the edge of the paving stones, near his grill.

Henry's eyes narrowed at you. “What is this, babe?” He asked slowly, cocking his head at you. “There wasn't one there, when I started my egg hunt.”

“I don't know what to tell you.” You remarked, biting the inside of your cheek, fighting the twitching of your lips. “Perhaps you need glasses, old man.” You teased, as he crossed over to the egg. “Why don't you open it?” You suggested, once he had it in his hand.

“You do know it's Easter and not April Fool's day, don't you, honey?” He asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at you.

“Oh, I do.” You nodded, finally allowing yourself to smile at him.

Henry looked at his still recording phone. “If this thing blows up, you know who to blame, guys.” He quipped, popping open the plastic egg and found a folded piece of paper inside. “What, are you proposing to me?” He chuckled, saying it for shock value.

That was until he finished unfolding the paper and concentrated on what it was.

You move to stand before Henry, smiling up at him, while his mouth gently fell open and his eyes grew. “Happy Easter, Henry.” You cooed at him, resting your hands on his hips.

“Is this-” He gulped thickly, looking between you and the paper. “Is this—real?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, tearing up, seeing his blue eyes start to glisten and his breathing shutter as he became choked up, emotional. “I found out last week.” You explained to him, taking the sonogram from him. “So, I thought this would be the coolest way to tell you. To train you for future Easter egg hunts with the help of our four legged son.”

Henry caught you up in his arms and spun you around, his blue eyes blurred with tears of overwhelming happiness, while burying his face into your neck as he held you tight against his body. He sniffled into your neck and you hugged him tight, feeling content.

“Christ alive, I love you.” Henry cried, tears dripping down his bearded face, as he set you back down on your feet, then looked over at his phone, just then remembering it was recording. “We're pregnant!” He announced, beaming.

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sin-djarin · 6 months

Text

in fiction

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Rating: M. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Dieter comes to bed.

Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of self doubt, no physical description of reader, no dialogue, no use of y/n.

A/N: I wrote about Joel coming home and wanted to do something similar for Dieter. To me, Dieter is soft and deserves some fluff. Thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for looking over this and getting me out of my own head about it!

You left him at the other end of the couch hours ago. His hands held a script and yours held a novel. When morning comes, a car will roll up the gravelled drive to collect him for a shoot. You hoped that maybe your exit would have prompted him to follow but instead he stayed seated, one leg tucked underneath him, whispering words from the dog-eared pages to himself and the soon to be empty living room.

You carried yourself to bed but continued to read, sliding further down the mountain of cushions that are propped up against the velvet headboard. The words became increasingly difficult to absorb and you reread the same paragraph over and over until you eventually drifted off, book still in hand.

Some hours later, you’re woken from the light slumber by the familiar bumping on the other side of the wall – he’s finally coming to bed. He never walks or runs up the staircase. He trudges or bounces over the plush carpeted steps depending on what the day has thrown at him. A squeak of rubber across the hardwood floor tells you he's finished his climb.

The doorknob turns and he peeks around the frame before crossing the threshold. He wants to see if you’re still awake. After closing it quietly, he offers you a soft smile – trying hard to balance it out with sorrow and glee. He’s sorry he’s late to bed and that he’ll be forced to leave again but joyful that he can squeeze in some time together.

But before you can both indulge, he heads for the ensuite bathroom. You know the sounds and the order you’ll hear them. It begins with the tune he hums over the buzz of his toothbrush echoing off the bright white tiles. You never could figure out how he managed to get splatters of toothpaste that high up on the bathroom mirror.

The humming is halted by a crash. Stainless steel against ceramic. If you could see through the wall dividing you, you’d place a bet that the sleeve of his too-big robe got caught on the nozzle of the soap dispenser and sent it careening into the sink. Again. A hissed self deprating fuck follows it.

Whether Dieter is two feet away, or two thousand miles always, he always finds a way to bring a welcomed noise into your life. In the silence of the early morning hours, separated by timezones, your phone would vibrate over the wooden nightstand. Sometimes it’s an I wish you were here with a picture of the inside of a hotel suite. Other times, it’s a picture of a pigeon with no context other than the word Look!

You're drawn to his bedlam as much as he’s drawn to your peace.

He shucks off his champagne-coloured corduroy robe and throws it over the end of the bed, revealing his worn lavender t-shirt underneath. It’s a perfect picture before he slips out of his crocs and reaches over to flick the switch on the lamp on the nightstand, turning the room the same shade of black as the tattoo on his arm.

When he exits and turns off the light, he tiptoes around to your side of the bed. The bed that’s too big for both of you when you share it and will feel gigantic come sunrise. He takes the book from your hand and places it on your nightstand, pages down so you don’t lose your place.

Every time he comes back from travelling, he curses himself for not remembering to buy you a bookmark. Though he’ll still tell you about all the funny ones he saw through his sunglasses in airport stores.

You’ve come to learn he’s predictably unpredictable. You never know if he’s going to ask the most thought-provoking question about how the planets aligned themselves or if he’s about to tell you about the meatball sub he ate two years ago, describing down its last garlicky notes and the texture of the bread.

And just like that, you don’t foresee him climbing into bed from the bottom of the mattress, but he does. Clambering over the puffy duck feather duvet, he drapes his upper body over your legs, splaying himself across you, and rests his scruffy cheek on your stomach. Almost in unison, you both sigh at the sensation.

For a few seconds, he’s still in the new darkness that’s drowned the bedroom. Still enough that you can feel the slowing pulse in his neck beating against your bare skin and the steady jets of warm air that leave his nostrils pour over your lower belly.

Calm enough because everything about this is just that – enough. His signature smell of amber combined with the crisp mint on his breath is rapidly becoming your own personal sleep tonic as your eyelids threaten to become heavy again.

It doesn’t last long. His hand is quick to search for yours, now unburdened by your book and when he finds it, he places it on the crown of his head.

What he wants is simple – just move your fingers through his disobedient curls.

You grant his wish; your fingertips glide gently over his scalp in lazy and uncoordinated motions. Tonight, leftover residue from his hair gel coats your fingers as you massage his head. Other nights, they catch on hardened flecks of oil paint that have fallen from his paintbrush and knotted his hair. Sorry, sorry, you’d whisper when you’d feel his lips twist against your flesh, wincing at the tug. His own knuckles find a slow rhythm, swiping back and forth across your waist.

The tiny groans of pleasure that your fingers cause him to illicit as they brush through his dark strands soon switch to soft contented snores. It's tempting to turn and check the time but doing so would turn the clock into a timer that would count down the minutes until his inevitable departure.

Sleep has found him. It’ll find you shortly too. Safe in the knowledge that he’s not persecuting himself about a performance that’s yet to happen, or whatever other pressure is weighing him down. For now.

Both of you will sleep through the alarm that’s set far too early and he'll wake with a jolt of panic. There won’t be time for breakfast or a shower. You’ll be left with a lingering kiss and that everlasting promise of a new bookmark.

He’ll return home again in one form or another, much like the creatures written in the chapters of your fantasy novel. In time, you’ll be a chapter in his autobiography.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo x gn reader #the bubble #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fluff

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elliesmainhoe · 1 year

Text

Abby Anderson Headcanons: Werewolf!Abby

This woman is feral.

Lives completely self-sustained in the middle of the woods.

You met werewolf!abby on a hike, trying to get away from the city and connect with nature.

What you weren't expecting was to get lost. At night. On a unknown hiking trail.

Shit.

But not to worry- our favorite muscly blonde to the rescue.

She finds you laying down In the dirt at 2am wearing only a thin rain coat, some cargo pants and walking boots.

It was cold when you fell asleep. So why the fuck was it warm when you woke up?

Your eyes flickered open, not to the sight of blue sky like you were expecting but to a wooden paneled ceilings. You quickly shot up, sitting upright in suprise on the squishy red sofa you'd been laid on and a knitted cable knit blanket thrown over your sleeping figure.

The sound of heavy footsteps approached the enclosed living room, your hands searching your pants for the concealed pocket knife you'd stashed in case of emergencies.

Creak.

The door opened. You thought your abductor was going to be a muscular, hairy, angry looking man with a deep voice and harsh words.

But it's seemed fate was kind to you- I stead there was a 6 foot tall blonde hunk, muscles shaped by the gods- and a woman. Shit.

"Mornin' sleepy head- made you pancakes!"

Like I said TALL ABBY. MOUNTAIN ABBY. 6FT ABBY.

Wolf? Nah she's a shitzu.

She's the most hyper, happy enthusiastic person ever.

Her metaphorical and literal tail is wagging at the speed of light behind her.

Buying her dog toys as a joke. Her being annoyed and rolling her eyes with a sappy smile.

You later find her in her wolf form with the squeaky rubber bone you'd bought her lmao

Speaking in a baby voice to her when she's in her wolf form.

You knew Abby was wondering around the cabin before you could actually see her. The pitter patter of her paws against the floorboards alerting you that she was out on the prowl.

"Abbs?" You call out from the living room, and before you knew it a ball of grey fur bolted next to you onto the couch.

"Hiya baby~" you coo- pecking her snout affectionately, hand moving through her fur and scratching behind her ears. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth happily- panting with a stupid Wolfy smile.

Chases her tail. Idc. when she's in her wolf form- she's a puppy.

Very territorial.

Does not like when people hike on the trail she found you on.

Everyone is a threat to you.

Your hers and she's yours <33

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Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @prettypeoniesx @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647

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citruslullabies · 1 month

Text

Totally wasn't watching Bojack Horseman...

Trigger warnings: a sense of derealization

Romantic/platonic: neither

Requested by: no one (I'm getting to my inbox I SWEAR)

Category: surprise angst

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 603

Are You There?

Through a flood of panic, Dogday ran through the little cabin you had all called home in the woods. With Catnap chasing him through the trees and stalking the home from outside.

With shaking paws, Dogday quickly took the old home phone off of its base, inputting your number on tiny rubber buttons as he put it to his ear. He was breathing heavily as he waited for you to pick up, tail tucked between his legs. A sense of relief yet paranoia flooded over him as you finally answered. “(your name)! (Your name), are you there? Angel, I need you…” he pleaded weakly, holding the phone tightly underneath his floppy ear as he shakingly sat on the floor of the kitchen as he saw Catnap’s figure through the windows stalking.

You had such a calm and relaxing voice, but you seemed confused. “Dogday?” You asked softly. Just the sound of your voice was enough to make him happy as a clam, his tail weakly wagged and thumped beneath him. “Angel! Thank God, Angel.. okay, (your name)... y-you’re gonna save me right? I called you and… and you're coming to get me?” He said, begging for any kind of reassurance. But your words simply made his face fall as his tail stopped altogether.

“...Rich, why did you call me?” You asked softly, before continuing. “I live in my apartment, I can't save you.”

This caused him some realization, his body slowly relaxing as his eyes pondered across the ground and then in the direction of your voice. “You didn't pick up.” He finally concluded, hearing your soft nod and a murmur. The canine was quiet before his words trailed on. “You never came back for me.”

“Yeah.” Was the only word that escaped the angel he grew so fond of, with each long second his world seemed to grow fuzzy. Before he gulped hard and struggled to speak. “And then I went back to that cell.” He said, looking down at his knees that were pressed against the floor and even they seemed fake at this point. Ringing filled his ears, with only a minor escape from it with your cold voice. “It's too late, what's done is done. There's nothing I can do, Rich. I'm not real.” You said softly.

The canine finally fluttered his eyes shut, only to open them to an empty white void slowly filling in the loving home everyone escaped to with your voice echoing around him. “None of this is.” You said, concluding your sentence. His throat tightened and his abdomen aches, but all he could focus on was you. “So what do I do now?” He whispered.

“Rich, it doesn't matter.” You said softly before he immediately interjected in, hugging himself tight as he squeezed the fake phone harder. “Well, if it doesn't matter… Can I stay on the phone with you at least?” He asked meekly, just wanting to stay with you. You were his whole world, his angel. Even if you were only in his imagination. You gave it a small thought, as if you were watching TV in someone else's arms and it was just a nuisance to ask you. “Okay.” You finally said.

“How was your day?” The orange dog asked, only wanting to hear your voice in his last few moments of sanity and life. “Good.” You answered, making the canine slowly bob his head up and down. “Yeah?” He asked, as if for confirmation or just any excuse to hear anything fall from your lips as even your voice began to feel fuzzy to him.

“Yeah, my day was good.”

Now to actually do the stuff in my inbox

#smiling critters #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #dogday x y/n #poppy’s playtime x reader #dogday x you #poppy playtime 3 #poppys playtime #angst

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bluepoodle7 · 1 year

Text

#RubberToy #1950sUSSRScreechingRubberDogToyFigure #DogRubberToyFigure #RubberToyFigure

Thinking about this this 1950s USSR Screeching Rubber Dog Toy Figure and how old school cartoon this little friend looks. This little friend has a questioning expression on it's face like it doesn't trust you.

VINTAGE RARE SCREECHING RUBBER DOG TOY 1950s USSR Collectible | eBay

#Rubber Toy #1950s USSR Screeching Rubber Dog Toy Figure #Dog Rubber Toy Figure #Rubber Toy Figure

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oleander-nin · 7 months

Text

Horrortober Day 10- Collar(Yandere Mud Dogs x Reader)

A/N, not important: Watch this be the longest thing I post. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, dehumanization, collar, blood, picking at the skin, forced name change(?), mention of being sold, gag, restraints, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 4342

Summary: Mickey ran his mouth and now the Mud Dogs have to deal with Big Mama knowing about you.

The ropes around your arms burn, making it uncomfortable for you to sleep. The position you were forced in was awful, your arms tied together in front of you from your elbows to your wrists, and your legs strung from your knees down. The gag in your mouth hurts your jaw, your tongue stale and dry from having the rubber holding your mouth open for so long. Your eyes lazily scan the ceiling, not bothering to struggle.

The skin on your arms was already rubbed completely raw, no need to add to your own pain and suffering. You do your best to roll your shoulders, twisting your waist until your back cracks with a loud, satisfying pop. How long has it been since they left? One hour? Three? You shake your head, unable to fully tell. Your dazed mind had lulled you into a fitful sleep moments after they left you alone, the safest you’d felt since they first took you.

They cited a meeting for their reason to leave you unattended, apologizing despite how clearly ecstatic you were at the notion. You hadn’t realized it would come with the price of chaffed arms and sore joints. Maybe that was what they were apologizing for, you muse to yourself despite knowing they wouldn’t care about such a thing. Your arms especially hurt, the perpetual hold of the rope feeling as if your arms would pop clean out of your sockets if you move.

You hear the lock of their base click, the sound echoing through the silent warehouse. Their voices quickly take over the silence however, Leonard clearly scolding Mickey over something that had gone down. It’s clear they’re trying to be quiet, their voices slightly hushed while Leonard drones on and on, Mickey snapping back every so often. The only one you didn’t hear much was Danny, but you knew he was there. He always is.

You shift your body to the best of your ability as their hushed voices grow near, your ears perking at the sounds. They never tell you anything, so eavesdropping became the only way you could get information from them. It had only taken you three times of being caught before you figured out how to do it the most inconspicuously. You close your eyes and calm your breathing, letting your heart settle so it wasn’t hammering in your ears. Their voices become more clear as they walk closer. Mickey was never truly able to keep his voice down for long.

“It’s not my fault. She asked and I answered.” Mickey growls, the clatter of the trio in the kitchen sounding through. A low murmur of Leonard's voice comes through, his voice too muffled to understand.

It’s quiet for a second, their voices depleting and being taken over by the clinking of plates and dishes. You wait for the voices to pick up again, your heart rate spiking slightly. You wanted to know what wasn’t Mickey’s fault. You wanted to know how she was, and what she asked. You wanted to know. You needed to know. You were tired of being in the dark, of not knowing what was going on until you were thrust into the thick of it.

“Leonard’s right, Mickey. There was no reason to tell her about Pumpkin.”

Danny’s voice sounds above the ambient sounds of the kitchen, the words clarifying only slightly. Mickey told someone about you, someone Leonard doesn’t want to know. Which… doesn't narrow it down much. You grumble under your breath, annoyed. You wished you knew what was happening.

They continue to talk in low voices, too quiet for you to pick up properly. Anything you could was mostly just Mickey whining about it not being his fault. You shift in the bed, sighing. Maybe they will tell you this time. You just have to ask nicely.

The door opens and your three captors walk in, a small tray of food being balanced in Leonard’s hands. Danny walks closer, pulling you into a sitting position and moving your hands down. You hiss slightly, your shoulders protesting the movement. Having them tied for so long was starting to take a larger toll on your joints. Even if they untied them, moving them would hurt for a while.

“We got you food. I’m sorry it’s been so long, but we got busy.” Leonard says softly, keeping his voice low as if he were talking to an infant. You lean away from Danny’s hold, hitting the squishy body of Mickey instead. You grimace, quickly moving back into the middle of the two and trying to stay as far away from each of them as you could in hopes to escape their imprisoning arms.

Leonard sets the tray down on a stool by the bed, reaching over to take the gag off of your mouth. His hands land on your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours for a second, the look in his eyes hinting his hesitancy to remove the insulting item.

“Don’t bite, and don’t yell.” He warns, the threat heavy in his tone. He waits for you to nod before sliding the gag off your face, setting it down on the tray that held the food. He grabs the bowl of oatmeal they had made for you, taking a spoonful and holding it to your lips. He waits patiently for you to open your mouth, as if he has all the time in the world. Mickey nudges your arm, grinning slyly at you.

“You should really eat, Pumpkin.” He says, moving his chin to rest on your shoulder. You try to shift away but he wraps his arms around your middle, his eyes flashing with a dangerous edge. You awkwardly settle down, letting him lean on you as he was.

“My name’s not Pumpkin.” You grumble under your breath, despising the literal pet name with your entire being. They decided to rename you when taking you in, trying to assimilate you into their world more. You thought it was a stupid name, one more fitting of a dog than a human. Although, you doubted they saw you as such. The way they treated you, the way you acted. You were more a child, or even a glorified pet to them. You never knew you would’ve missed free will so much.

Danny tsks at your renouncing of the name, his face curling into a sneer. He was the one to pick out ‘Pumpkin’ as your new name, and was always the one who got the most upset when you protested it.

“Just eat your dinner, Pumpkin. We need to go somewhere again soon, so we don’t have time to waste.”

You keep your face schooled into a neutral look, trying to not seem interested in his words. He wouldn’t tell you anything if he thought you might try and use it to your advantage. Whatever that means.

Leonard sticks the spoon in front of your face again, his eyebrows furrowing slightly while he waits for you to bite. He sighs, setting the bowl down but still holding the spoon.

“I don’t want to force you, Pumpkin.” He coos, his voice dangerously smooth. You know what happens next, what happens when Leonard gets impatient while you’re eating. You shudder at the memories of him prying your mouth open and shoving food down your throat until you felt sick. You open your mouth and take a bite. Leonard smiles and nods in approval, grabbing the bowl again and continuing to feed you.

You all sit in silence for a while, Leonard feeding you slowly while Mickey and Danny sit beside you lazily. Almost all of Mickey’s weight was on you, his eyes half lidded while they flickered around the small room. Fit with only a stool and a small twin sized bed, it was never meant to be comfortable. The longest you’ve stayed in here was two days, and that was when you first tried to escape. Even Mickey couldn’t argue against locking you away.

Leonard’s voice pulls you out of memory lane, your mouth full of now lukewarm oatmeal as he waits for you to take the next bite. “We’re taking you out tonight.”

The sudden news surprises you, your eyes meeting his own in confusion. You swallow the food in your mouth, opening it to ask a question, but he shoves the spoon down your throat before you can say a single word.

“I know you’re still getting used to us and all, but Mickey decided to run his mouth and now we’re in a bit of a bind.” Leonard explains, ignoring the way Mickey glares at him for the slight. “You’re going to be meeting someone very important, and you’ll need to be on your best behavior.”

You roll your eyes as you take the last bite, chewing the mush before swallowing. You doubted what Leonard was saying was as important as he made it, but it still peaked your interest. You hadn’t been outside in so long, even being shown off in a sense might be worth the trip.

Danny reaches over to your arms while Leonard kneels in front of you, both yōkai quickly undoing the ties around you. As the ropes loosen and fall off, you stretch your muscles, almost trying in relief as you hear your joints click and pop back into place.

Mickey grimaces at the noise, his face scrunched up in disgust. You don’t bother to grace him with your gaze merely staring straight at Leonard as he picks up the gag once more. You try to lean back when he moves closer, but Danny’s hand firmly presses itself into your back, stopping you from moving too far.

Leonard fixes the gag in your mouth once more, smiling down at you like he wasn’t humiliating you. He stands up and ruffles your hair, nodding to the other two. You clench your teeth down on the rubber stick in your mouth, the cylindrical shape reminding you of a horse's bit. No matter how hard you bit it or pushed on it with your tongue, it wouldn't come off. You reach up your newly freed hands, trying to claw at it in hopes you’d be free. You were tired of the ache in your jaw.

"Stop messing with it." Leonard chides, pulling you off the bed. The other members of the group follow, each standing and making their way towards the door. Danny stops for a moment and stares down at you past his snout, his nose twitching while he looks you up and down.

"Should we change them?" Danny asks, clearly wanting to but not wanting to make it any more obvious. Mickey snorts, pushing past the Rat and moving towards you.

"They look fine, Danny. Big Mama won't care much what they're wearing." He says, wrapping himself around you. Danny rolls his eyes, grumbling as he kicks the ground.

"I care."

"We know you do." Leonard says, clapping him on the shoulder. He shakes his head at his partner in crime, shaking him slightly. "However, we don't have enough time to change them. Big Mama is going to be mad if we’re late again. You can always give them your present now, though."

Danny lights up at the suggestion, rushing out of the room. Leonard turns to you, his eyes narrowing at your hands clawing at your gag. "Behave. Big Mama is important. Sit still and be quiet, and just do everything we say."

Your hands drop to your sides as you huff, Leonard nodding in approval before turning to talk lowly to Mickey. Danny returns a moment later, an object hidden behind his back. You try to take a step back, nervous for what he was about to present you, but he grabs you by the arm and yanks you forward.

“Stay still Pumpkin.” Danny says, glee shining in his tone. You didn’t know what he was doing, but it seemed like something he was looking forward to. You grimace. If it excited him, it was most likely bad for you.

Danny pulls out a small black collar from behind his back, the bell on the front tinkling and rattling as it moves. Your face drops at the sight, unable to fight back from the shock of being collared. He takes no notice of your horrified expression, quickly fitting the collar around your neck. It clips on and a familiar surge of energy rushes through you, whatever spell entwined with the fibers of the collar activating once it was set on your neck. Your hands go up to grasp at the fabric, hoping to be able to pull it off. You stare at the ground in horror, your fingers unable to even pull at the smooth material. There was no indication of where your skin ended and the collar began, only a small bump and the feeling of a smooth material alerting your brain to the alteration. It was as if he had fused it with your skin. The cool metal of the tags and bell felt like they were burning your skin. You wanted it off.

Danny looks down, his finger flicking the bell and making it jingle. Mickey grins moving over to you and flopping his body over your back and leaning over your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

You don’t answer the eel, too mortified to speak. Danny grins, still admiring the accessory he had more or less glued to your neck.

“Sorry it’s not too pretty, but Leonard didn’t want you to have anything too… Flashy. You’ll be wearing this every time you go out at the least, and to our preference at home. Now,” Danny looks back at Leonard, nodding. “Anything else? Or should we leave?”

Leonard nods towards the door and the other two follow, no one paying attention to your face that was drained of color or shaky limbs. The bell rattles with every step, the quiet jingle sounding more like gunshots to your ears. You briefly wonder how they were bringing you, considering you were human and they were criminals. They’d filled your head full of the stories of how the yōkai hated humans, and while you were skeptical of some of the specifics, you really didn’t want to chance it if they were right.

“She’s sending a car, right?” Mickey mutters, his eyes flickering back and forth. Leonard nods, and your question was indirectly answered. You reach the door of the hideout, your hope raising for a small moment. It had been so long since you had been outside, since you had seen anything other than the four walls of their lair. The thought of bolting enters your mind, but only for a moment. Pushing any limits right now would be a bad idea, especially with how tense the three looked.

Leonard wraps his hand around your bicep, keeping you close and tightening his grip every time you try to pull back. He opens the door, keeping you in front of him while Mickey and Danny both stick to your left. A small limo sits in front of the area, a pig yōkai staring at the four of you. Danny nods at him, the pig opening the car doors and allowing you in.

Leonard has you move inside and sits next to you, not letting you go until Mickey and Danny were both seated as well. The eel and rat sat across from you, the seats laid out in rows of two, facing each other. You felt small, like every movement was being scrutinized by the two in front of you. Leonard leans back in the seat, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Mickey’s eyes are locked on you, the nubs he has for hands curled like a fist in his lap.

You shift in your seat, none of the Mud Dogs speaking and letting the silence rest over the car. Mickey looks out the window while Danny stares down at his lap, tapping away on the phone he had out. Your hand finds its way to the new offending piece that was situated on your neck, your nails scratching at the bump that signaled the start of the collar. You hadn’t noticed how deep you were scratching, your mind focused on extracting the offending object from your skin. It wasn’t until you hear Danny curse loudly that you realize there’s a small amount of blood coating your fingertips.

Leonard quickly snatches your wrists, pulling your arms away from your neck and stopping you from worsening the wound. Mickey stares at your neck in slight horror, his fishy lips gaped as he stares at you.

“What are you doing?” Danny hisses, reaching over to you and taking your chin. You hiss in pain when he tilts your face up to look at the wound, his eyes narrowed.

“Why did they…?” Mickey starts to question, his eyes narrowed at the marks on your neck. You try to speak, but the gag muffles you and you feel drool roll down your cheek instead of the words falling from your lips.

“Because Pumpkin’s an idiot.” Danny hisses, taking a handkerchief from the pocket of his flashy suit. You don’t try and make a face at the name this time, leaving it be. You didn’t want to push them any further while they carried that look in their eyes. Leonard stays quiet while Danny wipes the blood from your neck, his eyes dark and grip painfully tight on your wrists. You stop struggling as Mickey also moves forward, the trio crowding around you with concern and anger mixing dangerously in the air. You shift uncomfortably, your jaw aching at the need to speak, or to even shut your mouth.

Danny leans back, the corner of his handkerchief now pink with your blood. He shoves it in his pocket, eyeing your neck. He looks at Leonard and Mickey, sighing deeply. “That’ll have to do until we get home. I don’t have any bandages or disinfectant.”

Mickey nods, staring at your neck in interest. His eyes drop to your fingers, Leonard’s hand still encasing both of your hands. The blood had dried and stained your fingers a soft red, but the blood blended into your skin too much for it to be a noticeable worry.

Leonard yanks you forward as Danny and Mickey return to their seats, everyone’s eyes now on you. Leonard stares at your hands, the pads of his fingers running over your nails. He grumbles in annoyance, turning to Danny.

“Do you still have those gloves?”

Danny nods and pulls out a pair of black cloth gloves, one you usually saw him wearing after they came home from a heist. Leonard takes the gloves and slips them over your hands without much protest from you. You didn’t want to rock the sinking ship more than you already had. Leonard pulls them as far down as he can so they’re snug on your hands before tightening the pull string at the bottom. He lets go of one hand, but keeps the other, his grip tight on your wrist. You gulp, slumping in your seat as you fight the urge to claw at the collar once more.

The rest of the trip is silent, no one daring to say a word.

You lean your head on the window of the limo as it pulls up to the entrance of the hotel, Leonard ushering you out and towards the door. All three were still tense, but no longer looked like they would bite your head off the moment you spoke. Walking up to the entrance, the doors open as soon as you reach the top step. There were two yōkai standing at the doors, both wearing purple uniforms with brass buttons. You stare at them in fascination for a moment, neither looking down at you as they continue to face forward with their backs straight and heads high. They remind you of royal guards for a queen, more for show than anything.

Leonard tugs you through, Danny walking a half step behind as Mickey grabs your other hand. The moment the eel has you, Leonard let's go, the responsibility of holding you being successfully transferred. The trio lead you into an elevator, another yōkai in the corner to press the buttons for the rider. Danny tells the operator something you didn’t catch, and he presses the corresponding button to wherever you were heading. You subconsciously lift your free hand up to your neck again, playing with the bell hanging from it instead of trying to attack your skin. You can see Leonard eyeing you, but he says nothing to your fiddling.

You stare at the scale of the moving numbers at the top of the elevator, watching them go up in mild disinterest. You could feel the anxiety rolling around in your stomach and flooding your veins, making every small movement of the elevator feel like an earthquake.

The elevator opens and you exit, Mickey dragging you happily to meet whoever or whatever it was that they took you here for. Your eyes move to the desk in the middle of the room, a small woman sitting at it. She stands up as the trio brings you in further, your eyes widening at the sight of her.

She was so… Human. Sure, her skin was a bit of an odd color(too purple to be normal, but maybe it was the lighting), and her teeth seemed just a wee bit too sharp, but other than that? Human. Completely and safely human. Your worries melt away despite the aura of danger drifting from the woman as she walks nearer, her humanness easing every bit of panic you had. She closes the distance and looks at you, adjusting the thin blue glasses on her face with a small smile.

“Oh my, look at this little doll.” The woman says, taking your chin and moving it back and forth as she scans your face. Your eyes are drawn to hers, the cool lilac of her iris’s burning into your mind. Was she wearing colored contacts? Her appearance and clothing showed her to be a woman of high authority, and she seemed to be the boss, or main leader, of your captors. It was an odd choice for someone of her ranking, but not one you could fault. The lilac eyes looked beautiful on her.

The woman leans back, her hand forcing your face to follow. She cups your face with both hands and smiles down at you, her eyes swimming with a false security. “Wherever did you find this one, dears?”

Leonard grins, his chest puffing out as he answers the strange woman. “I found them near one of the entrances to the city a couple months ago. I couldn’t just leave them alone and lost, so I took them home.”

A small smirk is held on her face as she continues to examine you, squishing your cheeks and lifting your lips to check your teeth and gums. You nip at her fingers for the intrusion, narrowing your eyes in warning. It was the first sign of aggression you had shown to the woman thus far. She merely smiles, cooing down at you.

“It truly is a marvelous example of a human. Quite scrumptious, if I do say so myself.” She finally drops your chin, moving over to her desk and toying with a pen on the surface. Her wording confused and worried you, bringing back the earlier unease with full force. She was speaking as if she wasn’t human herself, and it worried you to no end. “How much do you want for them? I do need more humans for the nexus entertainment, and I’m not quite sure you three would take good care of one like this.”

Leonard stiffens and I rub at my chin, the smooth texture of the gloves easing the ache in my jaw. Danny snarls, grabbing me and tugging me back. My eyes widen in surprise at the sudden pull, my hands flailing for a moment as I lose my balance.

“Pumpkin is *not* for sale.” He hisses, both Mickey and Leonard joining him in a tense stance. Danny shoves you behind him, not caring for your indignant cries. You can barely see Big Mama from behind the three, their bodies blocking you from sight almost completely.

Big Mama sighs, her voice clouded in fake dejection. You highly doubted the woman even cared. “Very well. Now, I do hope you bring them along another time then. But I am a very busy woman, and my schedule is oh so scrumdiddly packed. You boys should be on your way.”

The Mud Dogs take the sendoff at face value and tug you back, quickly going through the hotel and back down to the car. You’re shoved into your seat once more, and you’re hit with the regret of not trying to hightail it the moment you stepped outside. The car moves and you watch the window. There was still one more chance.

When the car pulls to a stop in front of the Mud Dog’s base, you tense. You go through the plan in your head, trying to memorize each step and each reaction you may need to take in case something goes wrong. Leonard pulls you out, and in the transition of Mickey and Danny leaving, you knee the ogre yōkai in the stomach. His grip goes lax as he doubles over, a wheezing cough ripped from his lungs.

You yank your arm away from him and dash down the street, your arms pumping wildly as you run. You didn’t notice how mast Mickey was until he caught you, volts of electricity buzzing through your veins and tensing your muscles. You collapse into the eels arms, your eyes heavy and body spasming. With your brain so fried, It wasn’t until you saw the others' eyes that you knew just how badly you messed up.

They drag you into the hideout, not one of them caring about your muffled screams.

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