Series Summary: (Pirate!Darkiplier x Reader) Y/N L/N, a saint from one realm fell to the next realm, has become someone who doesn’t care for anyone anymore…except for when she meets the most dangerous pirate crew.
Power and Control (Darkiplier x Reader)
Series Summary: (Darkiplier x Reader) Seventeen seconds was all it took for Mark to fall under a state of darkness. It was a separate entity, and it was a dark voice in his mind. He didn't care he was there anymore. And when he met (Y/N), it became more difficult to keep him within his cage. He tried to protect you, he fought his hardest. But that Dark presence was hard to ignore. He's coming to take what he wants. Which includes you.
a/n: lmao R.I.P. my soul and also @spookyold-saintjm ‘s
prompt: it was about Damien wanting to propose to you and it broke my heart so ENJOY SOME ANGST YALLLLLLL!!!!!
The glimmer of that small diamond made Damien smile. He couldn’t help but stop every moment he had to himself to admire that beautiful silver ring. It had got it for you when he visited Ireland with you on some legal matters with the previous mayor a few years ago. They told him this ring was precious, that it signifies eternal love, loyalty, and friendship. The heart-shaped Diamond was held by silver hands, underneath a small crown. He could think of nothing that matched your beauty, but this ring was a runner-up. His finger traced the ring, he couldn’t get that image of you wearing it out of his head, he couldn’t get that future moment of you saying the words engraved on the ring, ‘Forever yours, Damien’.
Pigs are kept in cages so tight and small that they cannot even turn around. Iron bars separate them from their babies and being able to naturally nuzzle them. This is no way to treat a living being.
Pigs are intelligent, friendly, and affectionate but are treated as nothing more than products.
A kinder world can exist. Make the switch away from these cruel systems to plant based foods.
A Late Night Last Minute Request | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader
a/n: i’m ripping up my carpet this took so long. MY BAD. i wrote an entirely different piece and then hated it LOL HERE WE ARE. (also to the request about learning more about winnie’s mom… here you go babes)
warnings: Mentions of death, pregnancy, miscarriages, abortions, past vague food insecurities, cussing. mentions of canon typical missions. gaz is super sweet and i love him
Summary: Laswell catches Simon at the supermarket, to which he brings bad news home. There's only one thing he wants - a last minute request.
PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST
“Told you not to bother me.”
Laswell looked apologetic as she stood in the small aisle of the market with Simon, the folder in her hand looked hefty and he didn’t appreciate being interrupted on a Sunday with Mellie almost asleep in his grasp. The little baby curiously gazed at Laswell, her body still curled into Simon’s chest. “Was important. Sensitive information, couldn’t have your wife looking through it.”
He grunted in response. He snatched the manila folder from the Station Chief, he didn’t have to move Mellie between arms since she was secured to his chest with a black muslin drape - tied to his body and underneath his leather jacket, but she could still look around. He opened the file, skimming through the information and committing it to memory. He’d see it before, but one thing struck him as strange - the target’s latest location was London. He had never left Sicily the few years the higher-ups had been watching him. The man knew crucial information about the Russian Mob and was going to be put in Task Force custody as soon as they could find the bastard and keep him in one spot. The target had a knack for slipping out of everyone’s fingers, and for never being able to be photographed.
Mellie cooed from his chest, her little hand gripping the muslin. He looked back up to Laswell, closing the file. It was Sunday and he was looking through a damn target file when all he was supposed to be doing was getting milk and cat food, now that he still had Missy in his office. “Let me guess, it’s been pushed up?”
Laswell nodded.
“Great.” He turned away, grabbing a carton of milk.
“We’re taking König out of the mission and putting Soap and Gaz in.”
He frowned behind his medical mask, turning back to her.
She crossed her arms. “It’s in three days. I will be staying with your family until König and Roach are able to get there to take my place.”
“Why?” He glared at the woman, hand coming to settle on Mellie’s back.
“A precaution. He’s a little too close to us for comfort.”
“Don’t fuck with my cat while you’re there.” He answered, handing the folder back to Laswell. “Just feed it. She doesn’t know that it’s even in the house yet.”
“A birthday present?” Laswell remarked with a smile, Simon stared at her.
“Not for my wife, no.”
She nodded before taking a step back. “I will see you soon, then.” She turned away then, walking away and turning out of the aisle. The only clue that told him she had gone was the little ring of the door as she opened it, then it ringing again when the door closed.
Simon turned back to the refrigerated section, hand absentmindedly rubbing his daughter’s back. The little girl didn’t make a sound as he moved around the small store, scanning the aisles for something that dumb kitten could eat. Every time he tried to take it out of the house to drop it off at Soap’s, Winnie would follow him and ask what he was doing with the box. He couldn’t make it past his front door anymore with that box, she would appear out of thin air - a trait she apparently learned from him.
He turned down another aisle, the carton of milk made his hand begin to throb from the cold as he noticed a small boy in the aisle as well. Simon glanced down the aisle, seeing toiletries, microwave meals, cans of food and crisps - the blonde haired boy with dirty clothes was staring at the crisps with intent. Simon noted he probably wasn’t any younger than eight, the kid had only a couple pounds in his hand.
Simon easily moved down the aisle, dodging the kid’s little body as he then scanned the cans - hitting jackpot when he spotted a few small cans of tuna. As soon as his hand grabbed a can, he heard a woman’s voice speak towards the boy, “Love, c’mon. I don’t have enough for those.”
The Lieutenant observed the small woman out of the corner of his eye, in a ratty old sweater and pants that have definitely seen better days. She looked tired, her purse was definitely one she had bought for cheap - her trolley only had a box of pasta, a jar of pasta sauce, and two water bottles. It pulled at a string in his head, reminding him of a time where his mother only had twenty quid to get her and her two boys food for the whole week, his father had spent the rest of the money on whatever he wanted - alcohol, drugs, prostitutes. He had moments just like the little boy behind him, wanting something from the store yet unable to afford it. He had protected Tommy when he was ten because his little brother had pocketed a chocolate bar, Simon had taken a beating from his father for not teaching his brother better. If he looked for it, he’d find the silvery scar on the back of his arm from that belt buckle breaking skin.
“Dada.” Mellie cooed from his chest, he instantly looked down to her. Her big brown eyes that looked exactly like his looked so tired, he gently pet her head.
You’ll never go hungry if I have something to do with it. He remarked to his child in his head as he only grabbed two small cans of tuna, the tin’s logo blue and showing what looked like a swordfish. He held them in his free hand before noticing that the boy had gone, as well as his mother - he could vaguely hear her hushed words from another part of the small corner store. He turned around then, eyeing the small selection of crisps that the young boy had been only moments prior.
He plucked a bag of each of the two kinds the boy had been debating over and turned down the aisle, moving towards the till.
The elderly woman behind the counter had placed down her large book as soon as he approached, his daughter gently murmuring on his chest as he placed his five items on the counter. She had dark brown hair, wisps of gray in her tied back pony tail. She began to punch in the amounts for each item, he balanced on the heels of his feet. One hand dug into his pocket, pulling out his worn wallet you had gotten him on your first anniversary. It was a shiny black leather, worn on the edges but still something he’d always cherish. He opened the wallet, pulling out forty quid.
“That’d be ten quid.” The woman spoke softly, her voice kind.
He handed her twenty quid, saying, “Can you bag up the crisps separate?”
The lady nodded, pulling out two small brown bags. She separated the items and bagged them before handing him back his change, then pushed the bags towards him. “Have a good day.”
Simon took the bag with the crisps, slipping the money in before handing it back to the cashier. “There’s a mum and her son in here, do you mind giving the bag to them?”
She furrowed her brows. “That’s… very kind of you. May I ask why?”
Simon looked over his shoulder, down the store to see the little boy staring at a small selection of candy. He could almost see his little brother in the boy’s place, little grubby hand grabbing the chocolate bar and hiding it in his mum’s purse. Simon turned back to the cashier, mumbling a small, “Thank you.” He took his bag of milk and tuna and turned away, going through the same door that Laswell had left through only five minutes prior.
The air had cooled significantly, Simon tugged on his coat to cover Mellie more as he started to walk down the lane towards the tram stop. Sure, it was a corner store but it was still a tram ride and a walk back home - so he had a lot of thinking to do.
He has always hated leaving you and Winnie alone, but this would be his first time leaving Mellie. The baby strapped against his chest was obsessed with him, he knew it would break her little heart when he didn’t come to comfort her in the middle of the night - and honestly, it would break his heart too. You could say that he was going soft, and he would agree - because children need kindness, not a father whose problems are projected onto them.
He moved the bag into the crook of his elbow, his hand tugged up the zipper of his leather jacket up to Mellie’s shoulder, just to keep her warm. He didn’t expect it to get so cold so quickly, but it’s England. He patted Mellie a little, to which the little baby cooed, “Dada.”
“I know, Bug.” He murmured, moving the bag back into his hand. “We’ll be home for dinner soon.”
It had rained in the morning, leaving the day humid and letting the evening mist roll in. He wasn’t a fan of fog, knowing that anything could be lurking around a corner. The tram station was close, he could see it through the light fog. He began to speed walk, still keeping an eye out for his surroundings.
As soon as he stepped onto the platform, the tram rolled into the small stop. It looked empty, the late afternoon rush had already come and gone. He quietly hurried onto the tram, finding a seat near the middle as the doors began to beep, alerting they were about to close. There wasn’t another soul on the tram, he was silently thankful for it. He settled his paper bag with milk and tuna in it on the seat beside him, now resting his hands on his daughter’s head and her bottom to keep her close to his chest and to keep her warm. It reminded him how just more than four years ago, this was what he was doing almost every day: baby Winnie strapped to his chest, a bag of groceries sat beside them and him sitting down, exhausted. Winnie was always such an easy baby, it was a precursor for how much a terror she was to you when she was a toddler. He was sort of glad the baby strapped to his chest now was a happy baby, but that she also had a handful of times a week where she got upset. He hoped it meant she’d be an easy toddler.
He looked out the window as he heard the doors close, watching street lights come to life as the train began to move. With the baby asleep on his chest, he took the time to relax against the seat. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to just think, eyes watching trees pass by. The houses looked like the ones on the street that Winnie’s mom lived, it scratched something in his heart.
Grace de Havilland was a beautiful woman, a woman he had cherished for most of his life. A woman he had gone to grade school with and known almost all his life - wavy chestnut hair that her daughter had to match, gray eyes, and a woman who took no shit. That’s what he always liked about her and what he liked about you too, but she was always just as hot-headed as him. She was his on and off girlfriend since they were twenty one, he was just always so scared of what would happen to her after what happened to his family when he was twenty.
She got pregnant right before he was promoted to Lieutenant, and on a cold fall afternoon, kneeling on the floor of his girlfriend’s kitchen, Simon Riley learned he was going to be a father. All he heard was ‘three months’, ‘my birth control failed’. And he did something that he has regretted ever since.
He stood, turned, and left. And Grace had let him. He had ran away, literally ran all the way back across town to where he lived. He wasn’t proud of it, he punched a few holes in his walls - believing he was a fucking idiot for even trusting her. He knew that it was never her fault, that he was just as at fault as she was. He was angry at himself for even getting her into this mess, that the baby would get her killed by his enemies.
Simon had got over himself too late, but he only knew that in hindsight. She was only six months pregnant with Winnie when he showed up at her door, she was right to slam the door in his face. He kept knocking until she answered again, tears in her eyes and telling him to piss off. He begged her to let him help with the baby, that he would work on himself if that meant he could see his child. That if she wanted to, he would do his best to be there for her. She agreed after he showed up to her house every day for a week, telling him that he couldn’t run again. He did almost everything Grace asked the last month she was alive.
Grace started talking about maybe thinking about names the last morning she was alive. He had made coffee, she had commented how it wasn’t good for him. He shrugged, downing the whole mug before setting it in the sink. He had the day off, he was going to spend it fixing up the crib in the nursery while she drove to her mother’s house in Liverpool. She was going to spend a few days there, he had put her suitcase in her trunk last night. She had trusted him to watch her house, telling him that she’d be back in a couple of days for a doctor’s appointment. He only pressed his hand into her round belly, telling her that’d he’d be here.
Ghost doesn’t wish, finds it to be not worth the effort. Simon, though, wishes he never has to hear that phone call again - especially if it’s about you. He would lose it, he would physically break into a million pieces.
“Mr. Riley, we’re escorting your daughter to North Manchester General Hospital, she’s not in stable condition. You need to come right away.”
There was a small mmm! from his chest, Simon was instantly torn from his thoughts as he gazed down, his eyes settled on the child who looked exactly like the woman he loved. Her brown eyes blinked at him, her little hand reached for his face. His hand took hers in his own, letting her squeeze her tiny baby hand around his index finger. She whispered, “Dada.”
“Almost there,” He answered, looking up at the screen above the exit doors, seeing that their stop was next. He looked back down to his daughter, taking in the curious eyes that matched his and her face that looked almost exactly like yours. His other hand came to gently pet her head, Mellie giggled.
Three days would come and go too fast, he reflected. I don’t ever want to leave you and make you think I’m gone forever. He had watched Mellie grow for the past ten months, something he did with Winnie. And him leaving again was something Winnie was used to, but he didn’t want Mellie to be used to it too.
He wouldn’t mind having another baby but not until you were mentally prepared for the next one, the time he spent everyday with his girls made him a better man. Even the days when they’re more intrigued by you than him, it was the times where Winnie would sit on his bathroom counter and brush her teeth while he brushed his - the days where you hadn’t gotten up early, so he would pull Mellie’s hair into a little pigtail and braid Winnie’s hair anyway she wanted, even if he was never good. He was terrified that something could happen to his family while he was away, that he had no way of protecting them when he had always promised to. That’s one of the reasons why he didn’t want another one, it’s hard enough to handle a kid and a baby, it would be a lot harder to deal with a kid, a toddler, and a baby. He knew you would protect the girls with your life, but he didn’t want you to. He wanted to protect you before they even thought of hurting you or his babies.
The thought of early retirement was heavy on Simon’s mind. Maybe he should, he could spend his days spending time watching his girls grow - he could stay with you the whole pregnancy if you wanted another baby. He could help Winnie with her homework when she got old enough for it, he could take Mellie to her first day of school.
“One of these days,” He whispered to his daughter, hearing their stop be called by the intercom. He stood, one hand grabbing his bag while the other was still being held captive by Mellie. “I’ll never leave again.”
—
The walk from the tram station was only about two blocks, but it went by quickly since he just wanted to get home. You were making dinner, all you were missing was milk - that’s why he found himself walking to and from a tram in the evening. Simon looked up to his porch as soon as his home came into view, he could recognize that familiar baseball cap from miles away. His daughter was running around the yard, throwing her little bear in the air as Gaz sat on the porch steps, holding what looked like Winnie’s favorite doll.
“Gaz.” Simon called, the man looked up from Winnie and a smile appeared on his lips.
“Hey LT.” He stood up, but then there was a loud screech of “No!” from Winnie. Gaz immediately sat back down, keeping Winnie’s doll faced towards her. “Your girl’s keepin’ me hostage.”
“It’s getting cold, get her inside.” Simon walked up the stairs, hearing Winnie squeal with delight as soon as she heard him.
“Dad! Dad!” Winnie almost screamed, darting towards him and almost tripping up the stairs, her arms immediately grabbed his leg and she held on. “Dad, Uncle Soap and Uncle John are here!”
Simon paused, only a foot from his front door and he turned to his sergeant, who now stood beside him and chuckling to himself. He moved the bag towards Gaz, saying, “The milk’s for Y/N, then put the bag in my office.”
“Oh, where the Missile Launcher is?” Gaz wore the largest shit eating grin as he took the paper bag; Simon had half a mind to take the sergeant’s baseball cap and smack his face with it.
But he didn’t. He only glared at Gaz, lowly saying, “Soap’s a fat mouth.”
Gaz smiled at him. “That he is, sir.”
Simon waved him off as his now free hand went and opened the front door, answering Gaz, “Quit callin’ me sir here. You’re in my house.”
The younger man beamed at him, following him inside the house as Simon dragged Winnie in, her wrapped around his leg and chattering. Gaz helped his friend by grabbing Winnie off of her father’s leg, arm still holding the grocery bag as Simon walked into the front room, letting Gaz pass with Winnie. He tugged off his leather jacket after unzipping it, pulling it off and moving to put it on the coat rack. Mellie chirped from his chest, he patted her little frame before sliding off his boots - the laces only stuffed into the side of the shoe. He pushed them towards the coat rack with his foot before he turned around, heading into the kitchen where you were.
You were everything that he needed from Grace. Patient, stubborn, loving, an asshole when you needed to be. You put him in his place and never made him feel stupid or like he was worthless. He had earned your trust, your love, and the way you held your head high when he needed you.
You were making pasta tonight. You had told him all about it all day, since it was Saturday and the Task Force surprisingly had nothing to do. You didn’t even ask him to call them, you were on the phone by noon and telling them when dinner would be. Here you were, skirting around your kitchen in one of Simon’s sweatshirts and a pair of leggings. You would argue with him that the outfit was nothing special, but he would still tell you that you were beautiful. He made his footsteps silent, using his weight like a cat to try and scare you-
“Dada!”
He looked down to his daughter, but her little head was facing you as you turned to him. Your hand reached for your baby, a smile on your face as you smirked, “Hi Mellie!”
“Say Mama,” He smiled as your hand rested on Mellie’s side, the baby trying to escape from the drape she had been so comfortable in for the past hour or so. You kissed Mellie’s little head, she whined with annoyance when you moved away from her to kiss his cheek. “How’s it goin’?”
“It’s going.” You answered, moving back to the stove as you began to stir your sauce. “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked so much.”
“‘m sure it’ll be fine.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, hand gently settling on your lower back. He ran his hand up and down your back, you glared at him from the corner of your eye. “What?”
“What’s wrong?”
Your hand turned down both burners before turning to him, making his hand come to rest on your hip. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes unfocused - his daughter on his chest kicked her little legs against him. “Why do you think anythin’s wrong?”
“You run your hand up and down my back instead of circles, that means you have something to tell me.” Your left hand rested on Mellie, the baby cooed as you continued, “What happened?”
Simon frowned underneath his face mask, unsure of just how observant you were of him. Did you know all of his little tells? Would you even tell him that you did? “The boys are here tonight, I don’t want to worry you.”
“Simon,” You sighed, your other hand coming to rest on his arm. “I’m going to overthink it during dinner and I’d rather know what I’m going to be upset over right now.”
His voice was low when he hooked a piece of hair around his finger, your hand squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
“We’ve got three more days.”
Simon could really never say that he was leaving, that the deployment was soon - it was always how many more days until he was gone. When he said he was leaving or that the deployment was a certain day, he found that it made it feel real. That it made him feel worse when he left.
Your hand patted your daughter’s back, the other still squeezed his arm. Your eyes fell to the ball chain around his neck, the ID tags hidden by his t-shirt. He could spot the disappointment in your face and it felt like a punch to his gut; he was also used to waking up in the same bed as you, watching you stir awake and kissing your face.
“Just two more nights?”
He couldn’t stand the way your eyes looked back up to his, fear of him not coming home was a look he could never get used to. He merely nodded, feeling Mellie squirm on his chest. Two more nights before he really became something you had never known, the monster caged in his center.
“We’ll have a good night with them,” He whispered, moving forwards to hover his lips above your forehead. “Let me savor my time with my family.”
“I wouldn’t ever say no to that.” You murmured, your hands now dipping into the muslin tied against his chest - taking your baby into your grasp as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.
He pulled away, hand coming to gently smooth down Mellie’s hair as she smacked her little head into your shoulder. He gazed down at you, seeing your face light up when Mellie gazed at you.
“I’ll come home.” He spoke, his voice certain.
You nodded, beginning to bounce on the balls of your feet as you whispered, “You better bring those boys home too.”
There was a chorus of laughter from the dining room, it burst the bubble of sanctity between you and him - yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset. You kept your girl against your chest, gazing up at your husband.
“I don’t want to skip a place setting for our family dinners.”
“LT!” There was a knock on the doorway of the kitchen that led to the dining room, he turned to look over his shoulder to see Gaz, a smile on his face. “Could I steal the little one? Trying to prove that I’m the favorite, not Soap, sir.”
He turned back to his wife, who handed him his daughter before turning back to the food on the stove - you were smiling. He then moved towards Gaz, the little baby curiously staring at her uncle as he said, “Told you not to call me sir in my house.”
Gaz held out his hands towards Mellie, she giggled a little before reaching for him. Gaz took her in his arms, settling her on his chest as she tried to reach for his hat. “You gave me my nieces, sir. So I respect you as my superior and as my brother.” He took off his hat, eyes still on Mellie as he handed it to her.
Simon, who stood onto a couple feet away, was caught off guard. It was a silent understanding that the four of them were like brothers, at least between him and Price, but hearing it come from Gaz? A man with an opinion that Simon also valued? His cold heart thrummed with a warm sensation. “Get back in there.”
Gaz glanced to his lieutenant, a smirk on his face. “Yes sir.” And he disappeared back into the dining room.
Simon turned back to you, gazing at the small smile on your face as he walked back towards you. You were faced towards the food, his hand came to rest on your lower back again. “He’s such a sap-“
“Do you want another baby?”
You turned to face him again, looking up at his face with a small smile. His entire brain seemed to vanish, only blinking at you. He can’t keep manifesting these things. “You’re not pregnant.”
You rested your hands on his chest before looking back at the pans on the stove, humming, “Well, I think I am.”
His hands grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him with a large smile. “You’ve only had a few months to recover, and-and I know that we-“
“We don’t have to keep it if you’re not okay with it.” Your hand moved up his chest, feeling his ID tags through the thin t-shirt. Your fingers tapped the metal, hearing the two tags clinking together. “We both have to be ready.”
“No, no,” He pressed his forehead to yours, his heart battered against his rib cage like a baseball bat. “I’m ready. Are you sure?”
Rubbing his collarbone, you murmured, “Two tests. One was negative but the next one was positive. It’s more likely that it was a false negative since there was a positive.”
“Call the doctor in the morning,” He pressed his lips to your forehead, arms moving to hold you to to his chest. “I’m ready. I promise I’m ready.” One of your hands rested on his shoulder, your head moved to slide into his neck - a perfect fit against him.
You thrummed your fingers against his chest, hearing his blood rush through his neck and speaking, “Let’s just enjoy the company tonight, okay? We’ll tell them when I get past two months.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Your arm pressed between your chest and his moved to wrap around him, you murmured, “Of course.”
“Stay safe while I’m gone.” He pressed a kiss to your head before he moved away, moving his hand to graze the side of your stomach. “Promise?”
A smile on your face, nothing but hope in your eyes for him to come home safe and sound.
a/n: trying to capture the essence of “mommy i frew up” and the terrified mother gasp ur mom does when you wake her up
warnings: fluff
summary: It’s cuddle time for your girls.
PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST
“Mama.”
You opened your eyes, instantly meeting a pair of hazel eyes and jumping in your skin. You definitely weren’t expecting your daughter to be staring at you.
What is with this lot and staring?
You raised a little from your bed, whispering, “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Can I sleep with you?” The little girl mumbled, tucking her bear into her neck before you nodded, reaching your hand out for her to take. You help her onto the bed, but you turned towards Simon, whose head was settled on your pillow and his arm on your waist.
You took your free hand and moved his arm to his side, whispering, “Simon, move over.”
The hulk of a man grumbled in his sleep, still listening to you as he rolled back over to his side of the bed - back facing you and just as asleep as you were three minutes ago. As soon as there was room in the middle of the bed, Winnie moved into it - you helped her under the covers before letting her attach herself to you. You wrapped your warm arms around her little frame, her little bear dug into your neck.
“Did you have a bad dream?” You murmured to her, eyes closing and still heavy with the sleep you just had in your clutches.
Her five-year-old sized arms held onto the arm you had wrapped around her, her face burying into her bear. “Yeah. Really really bad.”
Your hand instantly cradled her head and your eyes opened, looking down at Winnie with a sad expression that she couldn’t see in the dark. “Oh, Honeybee…”
“I just wanna stay with you, Mama.” Her pretty curls were soft in your hands as you gently let her head, the girl curled into you as much as she could.
“Don’t be scared to come and sleep with me.” You whispered to her, words soft and gentle. “I’ll protect you from anything, my love.”
“Daddy won’t let me have my kitty cat.”
Kids say the darned-est things.
Your eyebrows rose, glaring up at the dark silhouette of the slumbering Lieutenant. You looked back down to the little girl curled into your chest, saying, “When did he get you a cat, baby?”
“I found it outside a couple of days ago.” Winnie then yawned, her little head moved from her bear and to your shoulder. “He said she was sick and that Uncle Soap was gonna take her, but I want her.”
“I’ll talk to Daddy about it in the morning, Honeybee.” You moved and kissed her head, gently petting her head. “Go to sleep.”
Winnie grumbled in response, keeping her head dug into your shoulder. As soon as she stopped moving, your eyes closed - you were fast asleep.
——
“Y/N.”
“Mmm.”
“Why’s there a child in our bed?”
“Bad dream.”
“Oh.” There was a shuffle, the movement of his arm moving to pull both you and Winnie towards him. Simon pressed a kiss to your head. “Sorry I woke you.”
“What’s the cat’s name?”
He paused. You didn’t dare open your eyes, trying to waver in between slumber and consciousness.
“Missy.”
“And where is she?”
“In my office.”
You hummed, your hands still cradling Winnie’s head and back - you moved her just a little closer to you. From her breathing pattern, you knew she was asleep. You spent way too long watching her breathe when she was a baby, sleeping the day away. “She wants the cat.”
“I know.”
“Let her keep the cat.”
“Fine.”
——
“Simon.”
“Mmm.”
Your eyes had opened earlier, Winnie still asleep in your chest as you now gazed at Mellie asleep on Simon’s chest, him laying flat on his back. “Why’s the baby in the bed?”
“She wouldn’t calm down ‘til she saw you.”
Your hand reached forward to gently pat Mellie’s back, the baby merely hummed in her sleep. You withdrew your hand, moving to rest it on his arm before closing your eyes again.
“M’love.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
You patted his arm. “For what?”
“Everything.”
You rubbed his arm a little before blindly resting your hand on his chest, fingertips grazed your daughter while your eyes were still closed. “I’ll do anything for you.”
tv shows will have little girl characters whose main trait is interest in tea parties and stuff but the little actor is like 9 and mm no sorry. by that age they are roleplaying historical warrior cats during the hundred years war
a/n: FLUFF REQUESTED BY @jay-deserved-better AND @alaina-what-the-heckity
warnings: FLUFF!
summary: sundays are for you and Yancy.
Sundays at Happy Trails is your favorite thing. Its the time where you don’t have to work, and you can just lay around and socialize whenever you want. But today, you didn’t feel like doing anything at all. You just laid in your bed, comfortable under the blankets and in the cold silence.
“Y/N!” You heard a certain voice call as he opened the cell door. You opened one eye to see your boyfriend’s large smile as he waltzed over and placed his lips on yours. You sat up, your lips not leaving his, and placed your hands on his cheeks. After another moment or two, he pulled away from you with a smile on his face.
“Whatcha want to dos today, babes?”
You smirked at him. “Yancy, I would like to cuddle.”
Yancy rose an eyebrow. “Are wes proper now or somethin’?”
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you pulled him on top of you, letting his head rest on your chest as you began to run your fingers through his hair. He softly mumbled in pleasure, his cheek now against your shirt.
“I love yous, baby.” He mumbled as one hand tangled up his hair and the other rubbed his back. You loved babying Yancy, since he babied you more than you could baby him. You placed a kiss on his head as he spoke softly, “Are wes gonna stay here all day?”
“I don’t wanna lose precious time with you, babe.”
Yancy let out a laugh, snuggling more into your chest. “Okay, babes.”
pairing: Mob!Darkiplier x Detective!Neutral!Reader
warnings: gore, mentions of assault, cussing? HELLA ANGST. pain????? heartbreak?
prompt from @one-lonely-whumperfly :
“The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.”
It was midnight when Dark heard the knock at his manor’s door. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up from the stack of papers in his hands as he walked down his red velvet staircase. The mobster’s house is usually silent, the unexpected knock made him on edge. He finished his walk down the stairs and placed the papers on a small table against the wall, and paused, fixing the cuffs of his white button-down that was in plain view, due to him leaving his suit jacket in his office. He looked down to see two of his buttons unlatched, his gray dress pants barely visible in the dimmed chandelier’s light.
He shrugged, he looked decent enough for a friend to be dropping by unexpectedly. Maybe not a police officer, but he didn’t care. Sleep was heavy like liquor on his mind, he wanted nothing more than to curl up underneath his silk sheets and let slumber grab him by his ear. He was still alert, he was ready to brawl if the battle was an inch from his dress shoe clad feet.
GOD that old post was bothering me so much cause of how ugly they look so I decided to redraw them! This took like... 4 days to make? Idk it took ALOT of time and now I think I have carpal tunnel syndrome idk but yeee yee
PLEASE PLEASE reblog this omg I know I sound like a beggar but I cannot STAND that old post I really don’t anyways thx if you do 💖💖💖💖
Stressed Dark. Just upset and angry to the point of tears. Y/N comes in and calms him down, hands running through his hair.
Stressful Days, Soft Hands
Pairing: Darkiplier x Female Reader
Warning: None
Summary: When Dark is stressed you have to help him feel better.
When you entered your home, you could feel the balance of the building to be off. When you stepped more in your home, you could see things start to become fuzzy. Today definitely must have been one of those days for Dark.
You walked in the direction of Dark's office, "Dark! I'm home!" you hopped your shouts would calm Dark down, knowing you were here. Things calmed down a little bit, either that or you were just used to it.
When you reached Dark's office and opened the door, the ringing was almost unbearable. You pushed through though. When you finally got into Dark's office, you found yourself at Dark's side. He must have noticed you were close and calmed down. When you put a hand on Dark's shoulder, the ringing almost went away.
"What's wrong, Love? Why are you so stressed?" you asked him. Your small hands working his shoulders.
"I got this close... this close to catching him, and he just slipped away. As if he was never there. I screwed up," Dark explained while he banged the desk.
"Where was he?"
"Here. Which angers me more. If he finds you, after I just found you, after you found you. I don't know what I'll do," while saying this, Dark had moved out of his seat and put his hands on your shoulders, "I love you too much to go through that again."
"I understand where the intense ringing is coming from. Dark, you don't have to worry. If he takes me, I won't forget you. Besides, you're not a hard man to fall in love with. If I have to, I'll fall in love all over again. I've done it once, I can do it again."
Dark calmed down, you could tell because the ringing in the room was nonexistent. He led you to the kitchen to make dinner, and all night he thought about what you said. He vowed that if Mark took you from him, he'd have more pleasure ringing that man's neck.
