#big square husband with little legs

[strawglicks]

big husband

[hotpinkstars]

BORDER COLLIE - boothill x reader

- you, boothill, and your daughter spend a nice morning together, allthewhile you and your husband converse about a dog.

- i don't know why i made this i just thought it would be a fun little thing idk lol. i just had to add that little bit of jazz to the end bc like yk... idk anyways i'm trynna set myself on a better posting schedule and i think im starting off strong mmm enjoy

- all fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy at the very end, pre-cyborg boothill, his daughter is still alive here and everything is normal, wc 714

You were looking out the window, out at the vast amount of farmland you and your husband, Boothill, had decided to buy when he brought home the little girl you’re now able to call your daughter.

It was a nice, big place, suitable for animals of all kinds, and very family-friendly. You were currently watching your daughter play around with a baby goat that her father decided to bring out, a smile on all three of your faces. 

She seemed so happy, waddling around the goat, clapping her chubby little hands when the goat gave a soft little lick to her cheek. She had just learned how to walk, and had been able to say a few words for the past few months now. 

You walked out the back door, waving at Boothill before he waved his hand as a gesture to have you over by them. While you were walking over, you could hear your daughter shout ��Goat! Goat! Cute goat!” While bobbing up and down with her legs and clapping her hands. It made you laugh a little bit before leaning into your husband's side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm up and down while supervising your daughter. 

“Dada!” She squealed, giggling. Boothill ruffled her hair before leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead, making her giggle even more. “Dada and mama!”

You smiled wider than you thought you ever could have. You were so blessed to have Boothill as a husband, and such a special, precious girl as a daughter. 

“Well, we can’t really bring a goat in th’ house, n’ she seems to enjoy playin’ around with it a bunch…” Boothill said, standing next to you with his arms crossed. “What if we got a dog?”

“Really? A dog?” You looked up at him, and he nodded. “We have horses, goats, sheep, cows, and probably some reptiles living in the bushes. Do we really need more?”

He hummed. “The thing is, dogs can be domestic, hun. I got lucky this lil’ goat is so docile, good enough for her to be able to hang ‘round it without me having to worry ‘bout it taking her face off.”

“True. But we’d need a dog that can handle farmlife, not just any old dog. A boujee dog would not do very well in this type of setting. Keep that in mind.” 

He laughed before shaking his head. “Nah. I was thinkin’ more like a Border Collie or somethin’. I’d rather have one that's gonna make use of all this land.”

Your daughter came up to the both of you, lightly slapping at your legs to get your attention. You picked her up, giving Boothill a signal to go put the goat back in its respective area before meeting the two of you back inside.

A few moments later, when Boothill arrived back inside, you had lunch started, greeting him before he washed his hands and helping your daughter wash hers, too. He explained to her that she’s always to wash her hands before and after touching an ‘outside animal’ (as he calls it, so her itty bitty brain can comprehend it) otherwise she could get sick. He does the same, too. 

You set the table for lunch, putting some leftover salad and chicken on you and Boothills plates from last night. You gave your daughter some chicken too, but cut into very small squares, and strawberries instead of salad. 

The three of you sat down to eat, occasionally conversing about random things. She was too busy picking at her strawberries to notice your conversation, but you both still kept a close eye on her. 

“About the dog idea, are you sure?” You asked, your voice laced with some uncertainty. ‘I feel like we already have so much on our plate. Are you really willing to walk it every morning?”

“Well, o’course I am. I know what havin’ a dog is like, my dads always had one. I grew up around ‘em.” He takes another forkful of salad before going on. “But why’re ya so concerned? What else is stoppin’ ya from sayin’ yes?”

You smiled before laughing to yourself, leaving him temporarily confused. 

“Well, I want to hold off on the dog, because…

…I’m pregnant.”

[mothandpidgeon]

Embers Undying (Pero Tovar x wife!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: Pero Tovar x wife!reader

rating: T

summary: Pero returns from the Great Wall with a dazzling gift for you.

contents: fluff, soft!Pero, yearning, kissing, allusions to masturbation and sex moth never uses y/n.

wc: 1.5k

a/n: In my Pero Tovar brain rot era. I wish I'd thought of this idea before the fourth of July. I did about 5 minutes of research into early Chinese fireworks so if you see any historical inaccuracies, no you didn't. Thank you to @lowlights and @ezrasbirdie for beta.

Someone’s coming. Hooves fall hard and fast in the night, their sound growing closer. Your heart stutters in your chest. You’re alone and your little cottage is quite out of the way. If this is trouble, no one will hear you scream. 

You reach for the scabbard that rests beside the front door. You’re not confident with a weapon but your husband refused to leave you by yourself for so many months without protection. The presence of a sword alone may be enough to deter an unsavory character. 

A shadowy figure on horseback nears and you unsheath the blade. 

“Who is there?” you ask into the darkness. 

He slows, the weak candle light from the cottage catching his silhouette and you nearly fall to your knees. You’d recognize those features anywhere though it’s been countless months since you saw them last. 

“Such a warm welcome, mi esposa,” Pero says with a grin. 

The sword slips from your grip, clattering on the ground, but you’re already racing towards him. He jumps out of the saddle just in time to catch you in a tight embrace. Big arms lock around you, squeezing you to his chest.  His heartbeat pounds so furiously you can practically feel it through his leather armor. His scent surrounds you and you breathe it in deeply. Beneath the smell of horse and sweat is a familiar musk that immediately makes you feel at home though you never left. It hasn’t been home without him. 

You pull back to look at him, your eyes brimming with joyful tears. He is unchanged— still rugged and beautiful, still scarred and square— and he looks at you with the same eager delight. His dark eyes flit between your own, a rough thumb brushing over your cheek. You stare at each other, as if making up for all of the hours you wished you could see one another during his absence. 

Finally, you can’t hold back any longer. You kiss him and kiss him, your lips eager to be reunited with his. He’s been gone such a long time, you’re afraid this might be a dream, but the bite of his stubble against your face and the grip of his fingers on your upper arms tells you that this is no phantom. 

His kiss is always commanding, insistent. He cradles your face in his hands, tongue pressing into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair and it grounds you. He’s here again. Finally. 

When you come up for air, your lips swollen from his mustache and the rake of his teeth, you’re staring at him again. You break away just far enough that you can admire him, his features nearly out of focus as you hold him close. 

“I didn’t know when you would return,” you say, breathless. 

His eyes don’t match his gruff exterior. They’re warm and twinkling like melting stars as he watches his thumb trace your bottom lip. He smiles lazily, enjoying the details of you. 

“It would’ve been sooner but I stopped at an inn last night to clean myself up. I wanted to be presentable to you,” he admits. 

“You know I wouldn’t care”, you say. 

“You would not have recognized me. I might’ve met the sharp side of that sword,” he chuckles. 

You playfully swat his chest and he’s kissing you again, the tremble of his laughter on his lips. He guides your hands up to his neck again. His mouth travels to your ear, tracing the shell and nipping at your lobe. Shivers of pleasure burn across your skin, a familiar throbbing between your legs doubling in his presence. 

You moan. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve ached for him, imagining his tongue stroking you instead of your fingers. Dreaming about those nights when you were both so young— sneaking away to meet him, your back pressed against a barn, skirts hoisted around your waist. 

He pulls your hips into him and desire overwhelms you. You feel his muscular thigh through the thin fabric of your night dress and a  whimper escapes you. 

“I missed that sound, querida,” he growls, his mouth on your neck. 

“Take me to bed and I’ll make it again,” you pant. 

He hums hungrily but says, “Soon, hermosa. You must wait.”

“I cannot. Wait. Even a second. Longer,” you say between kisses. 

He smiles against your lips. 

“I have a gift for you,” he says. 

“It can wait until morning,” you say but he’s already stepping away.

At least, he tries to. You refuse to let go of his hand as he retrieves something from behind his saddle. There’s nothing in the world you could want more than him right now. Especially not a cylinder made of paper, marked with symbols you don’t understand.

“Mi amor,” you complain. 

“Needy,” he teases with another kiss. “You missed me, eh?”

You huff. 

“Wait right here,” he says and he goes deep into the garden, taking your strange gift with him. 

Usually when he returns from his travels, Pero is the one tearing at your clothing. He’ll delay a meal to slake his lust. He’s been on the other side of the world and now just a few yards between you feels unbearable. 

He kneels in the field, setting the thing upright. 

“This is a gift from the Chinos,” he explains as he unspools a long string across the distance between you and the tube. “For our heroism. We saw some action.”

You gasp. 

“You worried about me, querida?” he asks. 

“Of course.”

The amusement playing on his features quickly melts into affection. All these years and he’s still touched when he’s reminded you love him. 

He quickly recovers himself. 

“Fetch me a candle,” he urges. 

“Pero,” you groan. 

“Rápida, hermosa.” He taps at your behind. 

You’ve missed your husband but not his stubborn nature. Once you’ve done as you’re told, cupping your hand around the flickering flame, Pero crouches down.��

“Ready?” he asks. 

Before you can answer, he’s touching the fire to the cord and it lights with a hiss. You yelp with delight as a small flame begins to travel down the length of the fuse. Pero laughs and pulls you into him, this time his big palms cover your ears. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Watch,” he says, his eyes glimmering with the reflection of fire. 

The noise it makes might be the loudest you’ve ever heard, a boom like the thunder of a hundred storm clouds. You scream and bury your face into Pero’s front, heart pounding like a frightened rabbit. 

“No. Look,” he urges, turning you back around. “You’ll miss it.” His voice is all exhilaration. 

You peek up to see something unlike anything before it. 

It’s dazzling, exploding in the sky above you like the sparks off a blacksmith’s anvil. They glow against the darkness and then shimmer towards the earth. Falling, almost floating like snowflakes made of fire. Each ember twinkles out somewhere over your head. 

Your breath catches. What you’re witnessing is nothing short of magic. It’s beautiful, like bottled stars raining above you. What other fantastical things Pero saw in that far away place, you can’t begin to imagine, but you doubt anything could be as astounding as this. 

You turn to Pero and find that he’s not looking at this miracle. His gaze is fixed on you, enjoying the wonder on your face. The warm glow illuminates his features, the strong line of his nose and the tanned cords of his neck. This handsome man, obstinate yet attentive, protective, all yours. 

You’re overcome with a sense of gratitude— thankful that he’s returned home time and again. There were so many nights when you had no idea whether he was alive or dead and how would you even hear if the worst had happened? How would you go on without him? But he’s here and he’s safe. 

And this time he’s brought you a true rarity, something, perhaps no one in the world you know has ever seen. He could have sold it to a king for a wagon full of gold but, instead, it’s just for you to share.  

You want to thank him but you can’t find the words to say it all. The warm look on his face tells you there's no need, that he’s just as grateful you waited. You’re both so lucky to be in this moment. Reunited. He slips his hands around your waist, drawing you close. 

“Now, hermosa, let me show you how I’ve missed you,” he purrs. 

--

thanks for reading! comments and reblogs always appreciated!

[quack-quack-snacks]

Drowning Without You By My Side

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Sweet Home Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

Pairing(s): Cha Hyun-su x Fem!Reader Summary: Ever since losing everything, you felt like you were drowning. Trying to end it all wasn't successful when an unknown and unnatural force was hell-bent on stopping you, but when a near-death experience - unintended this time - causes you to tempt Death's grasp, you finally meet the force keeping you bound to the world. Warnings: Season 2 spoilers (slightly)! Slight panic attack, drowning, explicit detail of attempted suicide on the reader's part (The National Suicide and Crisis Hotline is 988. There are so many people who care about you and would love to help you. You are not alone), cutting and bleeding (during the roll calls), Ah-yi being too cute for her own good, and Hyun-su being a fond little cinnamon roll and a great big brother (even if it's only for a scene), no use of (y/n). Word Count: 6,163

next

Hyun-su!

You woke up with a start, sweat slickening your skin and causing the slightly ripped t-shirt to stick to your back. It was designed with a band of which you'd never heard the likes of before the apocalypse started. Your breathing was quickened intensely and you wiped your hands over your face, pushing your palms into your eye sockets as you fruitlessly tried to calm your heart rate. It took several minutes of doing every method you knew to stop a panic attack before you were finally able to take a deep breath without it stuttering in your lungs. You swung your legs over the edge of the hammock you had designated as your bed since you first arrived at the stadium all those months ago. To know that you hadn’t seen the boy you once called home in over half a year was a hard pill to swallow. You hated yourself for letting him go.

Hated that you didn’t try harder to follow after him.

Hated that you let the group force you onto the truck with them and head to the safety camp.

It was a never-ending cycle of self-loathing since you’d arrived at the stadium. When you’d found the secret exit leading out of the stuffy concrete walls you were trapped in, you found yourself leaving whenever possible. You couldn't handle the pitiful stares of your fellow Green Home survivors and the eyes of the citizens in the stadium who disliked the woman that protected the “murderer” of the chief’s husband. Although Eun-yoo and you did not really have any sort of relationship in terms of friendship, you had an unspoken agreement to protect and stand up for each other. If not each other, you had no one. The people you each had viewed as the closest to you of anyone had gone missing or even passed on to the next life. You both refused to admit that last thought out loud, though. 

Every morning, you would wake up and attend the morning roll call before getting dressed and leaving for the day until you returned just in time for the evening roll call.

Today would be no different.

You dropped your bare feet onto the frigid concrete floor and walked towards the bathroom, suppressing a shiver. The entrance to the bathroom had been taken off after an incident inside of the stadium. It involved none other than yourself and the elder brother of one of the boys who bullied Yeong-su when the two of you got into a fight. You can remember the exact words he had spoken to you after you talked to him about the boy’s behavior.

“The little shit deserves it. Being the little brother of a murderer and the devil’s advocate,” he’d said, referring to Eun-yu and yourself. “I hope he ends up becoming a monster. I even hope I’ll be the one to have the honor of killing him.”

You remember punching him square in the nose as soon as the words left his mouth. He’d flown backward and slammed into the bathroom door, successfully knocking it off the hinges and breaking the flimsy wood in half. You were positively seething at the absolute audacity the man had. Not being satisfied with how he’d fallen, you jumped on top of him and started pounding your fist into his face. You hit him over and over again, undeterred by the few hits he managed to get in, until you were pulled off of him. You started thrashing around violently when you felt hands wrapping around you to pull you off of him until you realized it was Park Chan-young, the young soldier who had been an alibi and friend to you and the rest of the Green Home survivors since you’d first gotten on that truck. A small crowd had gathered around after hearing the commotion and yells coming from the two of you before they all parted to allow Chief Ji in. When she saw you, her confused stare deepened to a glare but she ignored you in favor of transporting the brother you had just fought to the medical room. That was a hell of a day.

The inside of the bathroom was a regular locker room. Not surprising considering it was originally used for the players of the baseball team. The only difference was one of the walls was poorly rebuilt with rocks and bricks by Chief Ji and some of the stadium's residents after it was impacted by the missiles. 

Before you had started heading over to the bathroom, you had grabbed your small compact bag of hygiene supplies and brought it with you. Although toothpaste was hard to come by and you had to share the rations the soldiers found with your neighbors, you were able to find some on one of your days out. You brushed your teeth dry, not wanting to use any of the limited water on something like brushing your teeth. This had become something you were used to. 

Finally returning to your sleeping space, you didn’t bother changing out of the clothes you slept in and just decided to continue wearing them. The outfit was comfortable yet simple: a pair of oversized off-white sweatpants you had to manually make a drawstring for using a shoestring, and a short-sleeved dark blue shirt. Your shoes were the same ones you wore the first day this monsterization started. They were originally a pristine white you had tried your hardest not to taint, but now they were stained beyond repair from your adventures. You consider yourself lucky you had only bought them a week before the outbreak. They held up well throughout the year you’d spent with them as your sole pair of shoes. 

The morning announcement calling for roll call sounded through the silent air of the little enclosed unit you were lucky enough to be given.

Although luck may not have been the true cause. So many people were reluctant to be near you when they slept and complained enough times to the chief that she eventually just set you apart from the rest. Although it was lonely at times, you were thankful for the shred of privacy you had been granted. 

Once your shoes had been put on along with your sweater, you calmly walked down the hall toward the place where your assigned group met for roll calls. You arrived just in time to see Yeong-su slap away Jin-ok’s hand when she tried to pull him back from a soldier who was grinning meanly at him. You could see the built-up tears in the boy’s eyes that he desperately was trying to push away and rushed forward. Seeing the reasoning behind his tears, despite the consequences that you knew would ensue, you roughly pushed against the soldier’s back which sent him tumbling forward and his face met the ground floor with a sickening sound. You risked a glance to look back at Yeong-su and Jin-ok. Yeong-su’s arm was bleeding rapidly, seeming obvious that the soldier who cut him too deeply hit an artery. Hopefully, it wasn't a major one. The boy’s lip was quivering as he held back his tears. You could see all the emotions in his eyes: anger, frustration, helplessness, but mainly relief. Relief from you coming in to defend him. You quickly sent a look to Jin-ok and she immediately knew what you meant. She gently took Yeong-su’s hand and this time he didn’t resist as she led them both away from the scene and to their living quarters. 

You barely had time to let out a relieved smile before a fist was sent flying into your left cheek, sending your head snapping to the right and you falling back, only barely and painfully catching yourself with your elbows. You looked up at your assailant to see the officer who was tormenting Yeong-su standing above you. His nose was bleeding heavily and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was beginning the transition period to a monster. He wiped at his nose to no avail and sent you a heavy glare. He leaned down and roughly grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet and pulling out his knife. You held eye contact even when the blade roughly slashed across your forearm, right over an already existing cut. You praised yourself internally on how you kept your face entirely neutral and how the soldier looked angry and disappointed at your lack of reaction.

You gave him a slight smirk as you held up your bleeding arm for his view, the blood gushing down and covering your bruised elbow. “Happy?” You questioned tauntingly and your smirk grew as you saw the man seething. Despite his intimidating height, you couldn’t help but think he looked like a cartoon character with the way you were sure steam would be bursting out of his ears at any second. When he made no further move to continue the fight, you swiftly turned around and walked out of the room, smiling when you heard him yell in frustration and throw something to the floor. The knife, you presumed. 

You didn’t bother visiting the doctor to help you treat your wounds as you wrapped a strap of clothing around it and called it a day. Any respect you had for him instantly flew down the drain when you caught him drinking the rubbing alcohol meant for treating wounds and acting immaturely all the time. You walked in the direction of the exit, making sure to not be spotted by any soldiers as you did. When you finally got there and pushed the door open, you let out a breath of relief. The moment you stepped out the door and into the clean air of the outdoors, you felt yourself relax a little more than before. You found it odd how you felt more relaxed outside of the safe haven the stadium provided but you couldn’t help yourself. In the outdoors, you felt free. You could think without hindrance and allow yourself to feel an emotion that wasn't complete and utter despair.

The ground crunched below your feet as you walked across the gravel towards the green grass fields. You had no objective or destination in mind for today, you just wanted to escape the oppressive hands of your 'superiors.'

Walking on light feet, still making sure to keep your head focused on the area around you in case a monster appeared, you found yourself standing in front of a building. There was nothing special about this building. Half of it wasn't even attached as it lay broken in shambles around the structure. The ladder leading to the roof was rusted and had some of the metal bars sticking out awkwardly. The building in total was relatively normal and in good shape compared to those around it.

The only special thing about this building was the memories that it spurred within your head. 

You climbed up the ladder, tears blocking your vision as they collected on your waterline despite your deepest efforts. You lost everyone. You lost Hyun-su; the boy you called home; the boy you called your soulmate; the boy you loved more than anyone or anything else. You lost Ji-su, the girl you decided you could call your best friend after spending so much time with her on the first floor of Green Home for those days at the beginning of this mess. You even lost Su-yeong, the little girl you’d grown so protective over… gone without a second thought. You never truly had Eun-yu so it wouldn’t hurt as much whether or not she had died. The only person you truly felt you had left was Yeong-su. You hated yourself for doing this to him but only having him wasn’t enough to stay anymore. 

You felt like you were drowning. You were unable to handle the constant feeling of your emotions overpowering you. You’d heard so many times that it got easier as time went on but you never thought you would be able to overcome this. Although it might have been fitting to end your life by drowning, you just wanted a quick and painless death.

Falling solved that for you. 

When you finally climbed the ladder to the roof of the building, you couldn’t help the sobs that wracked your body. You hopped up onto the edge of the building and looked up. The sky seemed to perfectly oppose how you were feeling. Soft, puffy white clouds were fluttering through the atmosphere and forming different shapes you could just barely make out. The tears slipped down the side of your face as you tried to gain some sort of peace before you followed through with your decision. 

The wind was a gentle, cool breeze across your damp cheeks as you stood and glanced across the beautiful terrain below you. The grass had just barely begun to grow out of its perfect and well-maintained state, but it was still a wonderful sight to see. There were flower gardens surrounding the tall building, some crushed brutally by the falling of the walls but most were left perfectly untouched and thriving in the new world. The sight made your body calm down, the tears cascading waterfalls of sorrow down your cheeks slowly coming to a stop. You’ve heard of the acceptance of death people have when they know they’re about to die. You’d never thought you would have to face that kind of acceptance, never really thought the way you’d die would be because the world had been cruel and gave you too much pain for you to handle. You never thought that yet there you were.

There you were, standing on the edge of the tallest building you could find, one foot raised and hovering over the edge and you giving one last smile to the world before having your other foot join it. 

The wind screamed in your ears and you swear you could hear voices within it. Voices calling your name. Voices that sounded too similar to one you’d lost. You let your eyes fall shut as memories flashed through your mind. Memories of reading to Su-yeong and Yeong-su; memories of playing the guitar and singing with Ji-su, laughter interrupting each word because you couldn’t take yourselves seriously; memories of Hyun-su. 

Memories of shaking his hand when you first met him after he moved in across the hall from you in Green Home. 

Memories of him coming to you crying for the first time and confessing how he couldn’t stand being alive anymore.

Memories of losing yourself in his eyes when he smiled at you.

Memories of his touch against your cheeks when he leaned in to leave a kiss against your forehead.

Memories of him.

A single tear drop fell from your eye and you smiled at the thought of meeting him again, whether that be in your next life or the one that comes after death. There was no doubt in your mind that he was gone, and that thought alone was more than half of your reasons for wanting to end it all. 

Just as you were sure you were about to hit the bottom, a strong yet lean arm wrapped around your body and gently set you down on the ground before retreating just as quickly as it had appeared. You shot your eyes open only to be left with the blue sky above you and the intense wind that breezed over your body as whatever it was that saved you disappeared. For a few moments, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except stare in perplexment at the sky. As you sat up, you still couldn’t think straight and allowed your body to work on autopilot as it walked you home. 

It took a full week until you were finally able to come to terms with the fact that either you had imagined the whole thing or something - someone - had saved you.

A month after your first attempt, you tried again. You couldn’t handle the stares of disdain and hatred towards you after you had defended Eun-yu as others criticized her about her apparent murder of Chief Ji’s husband. Yet, just like the last time, you were saved miraculously last minute by that same strange force. 

You tried a dozen more times, all ending with the same result. It was so frustrating and you could barely handle the pain knowing you couldn’t even control your death, let alone your life.

The tears streamed down your face violently as you knelt and smacked your fists angrily against the wet, coarse dirt of where you were, once again, gently placed down after another failed attempt to end your life. The shredded noose hung limp around your neck and you ripped it off aggressively. You let out an agonizing scream from the deepest part of your lungs and it ended with more sobs as you let yourself fall onto your side with your knees pulled into your chest. Your loud sobs slowly quieted down but the tears never stopped falling. You stood up from the wet ground, your hair and clothes both stained by the mud below. Water rained down from the heavens, soaking your shirt and making it cling to your chest. Your tears blurred with the raindrops that splashed against you and slowly made their way down your face, disappearing down your neck and into the collar of your shirt. 

“Why are you doing this?” You yelled into the open air, receiving no answer. “Why? Why do you keep doing this? Why won’t you just let me die?” You choked on a sob at that last question and yet you still received no answer. Defeated, you decided to retreat back to the stadium and get cleaned up. When you returned, Jin-ok was the first to notice the bruising around your neck and your tired, puffy eyes. When she asked, you played dumb but you could tell she saw right through you. Luckily, she left it alone. 

You ended up curled up in your hammock for hours as you sobbed your heart out. 

Although the stadium might have been a better place to follow through with your plan, you refused to put your few remaining friends - if you could even really call them that - through that. Put them through the pain of seeing your dead body and knowing they might have been able to stop it. Even though you would be dead by then, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. The only way you would allow yourself to follow through was outside of the stadium.

But a certain someone, or something, wouldn’t allow that to happen. 

That was the last time you tried to end your life.

You’d had many dangerous encounters since then but every time they would be cleared out by your guardian angel before you could even really call them a threat. It got to the point where you felt more safe outside the stadium compared to within its concrete walls.

Sighing, you averted your eyes from the building and walked around it, focusing instead on the plants that were just starting to bloom in the early spring. The breeze was a welcome chill that rose goosebumps along your arms. As you continued to walk, your mind blank and your feet destinationless as you wandered, you came across a large pool of water.

And a girl.

She was young, and couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. It was such a shock to see her there, especially all by herself, that you didn’t realize she was sinking until it was almost too late. Without a second of hesitation, you jumped right into the lake and swam as fast as you could towards her. Grabbing a hold of her hand, you pulled her along as you swam back up to the surface. You dragged her towards the edge of the earth where the stable ground met the water and laid her down. Lowering your head to her mouth, you tried to listen to her breathing but instead, you got a headbutt to the ear. She shot up and started coughing up water. You ignored how your ear stung at that moment and instead rubbed along her back while she breathed heavily. 

“Are you okay?” You asked her and she suddenly snapped her head towards you, like she didn’t recognize your presence until you spoke.

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she hesitated before quietly asking, “Did you save me?”

You smiled at her shy mannerisms as she played with the hem of her wet and dirtied dress. “Yeah, I did.”

She looked up at you, almost surprised with your confession, and gave you a shy smile back. “Thank you,” she whispered before averting her eyes again.

You couldn’t stop the smile growing even brighter on your face at her adorableness. You looked around, seeing nobody else in sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you began to worry about who she was and why nobody was taking care of her. “Are you alo-”

Just as you started to speak, a wet and slimy tentacle-like appendage wrapped itself around your torso and yanked you back into the lake. You thrashed around but couldn’t unravel yourself from the monster’s grip. You saw your knife float away and sink further down the dark abyss that was the bottom of the lake. With it, the last of your newfound hope to live followed. Just as you lost the last of the reserved air in your lungs, a sudden figure dove into the water and wrapped its arm around you. Just before your eyes fluttered shut, you swore you saw the blurry face of the same boy who haunted your dreams. The boy who haunted your nightmares.

The same boy who haunted your mind as you stuttered between the line separating life and death after surrendering to the lack of oxygen. 

“Hyun-su!”

You screamed as you saw the military take him away. You lay helplessly against the side of the crumbling Green Home building as the pain of moving around too much from your wounds caused you to be dead-weight in your spot. 

He let out a scream of agony that ended with your name and you felt your heart shatter. He was surrounded by multiple people; doctors, scientists, and soldiers alike. Each person’s face was surrounded by a strange darkness. The only thing you could make out of their faces were their evil, wide smiles, and their eyes tainted a demonic red. The sight made you feel even more helpless and despair-ridden than before.

You could do nothing but watch as the love of your life was taken from you without a second thought. 

Hyun-su gathered you in his human-form arm while the other, extended in his monstrous form, swung back and forth through the water to slice at the monstrous being that dared to harm you. He didn’t waste much more time under the water to fight the beast as he noticed your eyes had slipped shut and you weren’t releasing any more air bubbles. He surged upwards, his wing doing most of the work as he darted through the surface of the water and onto the solid ground near the same little girl you had saved before.

Lying you down on the ground gently, he lowered his head to your mouth to hear if you were breathing, cursing quietly when he realized you weren’t. It was at times like these that he thanked whatever deity existed that he allowed himself to be persuaded by his parents to be a lifeguard for a summer. That way, he learned and was certified in CPR. 

Plugging your nose, he administered two breaths into your mouth before pressing his - now both fully human - hands to your chest. Just as he prepared for the first chest compression, you suddenly started coughing and turned onto your side as you continued to cough up the water from your lungs. He was so thankful there wasn’t enough water in your lungs that he would’ve had to break your ribs giving you CPR. 

But he would choose broken ribs over a body that wasn’t breathing any day.

After coughing your lungs dry, you fell onto your back with your eyes closed as you took many deep breaths. Suddenly, you remembered the face you clearly remember saving you and shot up into a sitting position, your eyes wide and surprised. Your gaze immediately fell upon him.

Hyun-su.

You held your breath as your eyes met and you stared at each other for a few moments. Your hand hesitantly raised to reach out for him. His gaze didn’t stray from your own as you brought your hand to his face, a mix between a sigh and a sob leaving your throat as you felt the soft skin of his cheek touch your fingertips. He was wet and cold, but he was alive. A smile grew onto your face but it dropped just as Hyun-su’s began to form. You yanked your hand away as if his skin suddenly burned you, and it might as well have. You could see the hurt expression taking over his face but the feeling of the anger, betrayal, and grief flooding through your veins overpowered any feelings of remorse you might have felt. Taking a quick moment to look around for the child you saved, you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw her innocently watching the interaction between you and Hyun-su, breathing normally and sitting safe and sound on the grass.

“Take care of her for me, will you?” You asked him coldly, not waiting for an answer as you stood up and started speed walking in the opposite direction. 

“No, wa- wait!” He scrambled to stand up, calling after you as you ignored his advances. “Stop!” He finally caught up to you and wrapped his hand around your bicep gently, turning you around to face him. 

“What? What the fuck is so important that you finally feel the need to talk to me?” You let out a sob of a laugh as you ripped your arm away from him. You could slowly see the realization of why you were acting so angry and upset dawn on his face as guilt settled into his eyes. “You’ve gone this entire time being just fine as you save my life just to leave me there, alone, time and time again. So please - please - explain to me what is now so important you feel the need to reveal yourself to me.”

You looked at him expectantly as his mouth opened and closed, looking for an answer. He seemed to find it as he finally said, “I just… I really thought you died this time. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You looked at him, frustrated, for a moment before harshly scrubbing your palms over your eyes which were tearing up against your will. “So… what, after all the times you saved me, now you want to check on my safety?” Taking a deep breath, you forced your face to look calm, masking your anger for his sake so you could get out of this situation with as little hindrance as possible. You dropped your hands to your sides, your tears smeared across your face leaving it in a shiny glow. “Well thank you, Hyun-su, for your consideration,” you spoke the last word with bitterness lacing your tone that you could tell he caught as he winced softly. “But I am fine.”

You turned around, fully intent on heading back to the stadium when his hand wrapped around your bicep again. “What?” You asked angrily and turned around only to be pulled into a tight hug. You didn’t waste time in fighting his grip but he was relentless. “Let me go!” You screamed at him, although it was muffled by his shirt. “You’re such an asshole! I fucking mourned for you! I built a fucking memorial and brought a flower every single week without fail and yet you were never fucking dead! Why did you keep letting me think you were dead?” You were now pounding your fists into his chest, no longer resisting his embrace but expressing the built-up anger, sadness, grief, and self-loathing you felt every single day. It all stemmed solely from the way you hated yourself for not trying harder to save him. Not trying harder to resist Eun-hyuk when he told you and Eun-yu he would bring him back. “Was it you? Was it you every time I was stopped? Every time I was in danger, it was you who saved me, wasn’t it? What gave you the fucking right?” The crying started again. In turn, your hits became less and less powerful with each strike along with your screams gradually quieting. “Why did you have to leave me?” You sobbed out and let your head fall onto his chest as he buried his face in your hair. Your hands clutched onto his t-shirt as if trying to anchor him to you, scared that if you let him go, he would disappear again. Your knees gave out, exhausted by the emotional turmoil washing over you from the last five minutes. And so soon after death caressed you on the cheek too. Hyun-su caught you and slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, never once breaking the embrace. 

You sat in silence, only broken by the sound of your sobs as they slowly subsided. When you settled down, you spoke once more. 

“Did you know I was in love with you?” You didn’t feel any physical reaction from him that would express what he was feeling in that moment so you continued. “I never stopped. Loving you, I mean. I don’t think I ever will, but god, I hate you so much right now.”

There were a few silent beats where the only sound you could hear was the sound of his heartbeat against your ear until he spoke. 

“I didn’t think I would be able to handle seeing you again and find you with this exact reaction. By the time I left the military’s grasp, I tried to find you but then I saw you on that ledge.”

It surprised you and calmed your nerves all the same. 

“I knew I was just being a coward but I thought too much time had passed for me to just show up. Today was just a bit different.” He leaned back a bit to look at you and you did the same. He gave a small smile when he saw you again, with your wet eyes and glistening cheeks you looked wonderful. Even after sobbing your heart out, you were still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “My love, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I never stopped either,” he leaned in slowly so your foreheads rested against each other and your noses brushed. “And if you need time to stop hating me, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You looked into his radiating brown eyes as the last tear slipped from your own before bringing a hand up to cup his cheek once again. You let out a small laugh which he returned with an adoring smile. Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his in a soft, unhurried kiss. He slid a hand up from where it was pulling you into his embrace to rest against the back of your neck as he held you against him. When the both of you were smiling too much to continue the kiss, you leaned back just enough to stare into each other’s eyes. The adoration and love you had for each other would be clear for anyone to see from the way you gazed at each other.

You suddenly pushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and hugging him once more. He sat still for a moment as he processed what you did only to wrap his arms around your waist. He hugged you just as tight and with just as much desperation as you did.

“God, I missed you so much,” you whispered into his ear and he sighed shakily into the spot where his face was buried in your neck. 

“I missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry for not coming back sooner.”

“Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me,” you reassured him and he physically relaxed, his shoulders untensing and him falling further into your embrace. 

The sound of the soft pattering of footsteps interrupted the moment you two were sharing. However, it was entirely welcome when you saw the little girl you had saved before standing beside you. You pulled away from Hyun-su, but not too far as he grabbed onto one of your hands. You smiled at him slightly, he was obviously just as starved of your touch as you were his.

“Hi there,” you told her gently when you turned back to her, not wanting to scare her in any way. “What’s your name?”

She looked down shyly, not answering until Hyun-su reached out to her with his hand. “It’s okay, she’s a good one,” he reassured her as he brushed some stray wet strands of her pin-straight black hair out of her face when her small hands were unable to. He took her hand and gently pulled her closer to the two of you. It made you smile as you saw them interact. The caring and soft way Hyun-su acted with her reminded you so much of a father interacting with his daughter.

It just made you love him even more.

He gave her one more nod of reassurance before she timidly introduced herself.

“M-my name is Ah-yi,” she stuttered out and you silently cooed at her adorable little shy smile. “Thank you for saving me, Miss.”

“Of course, Ah-yi, you are very welcome,” you gave her your own smile and some of her shyness seemed to fade away. You then gave her your name and she visibly brightened up. 

“You’re the princess!” You gave her a confused smile with a small laugh as she then began to explain. “Oppa’s told me stories about you! How you’re the princess of the big green castle and how he was a knight in shining armor who was saved by you, the warrior princess!” She talked animatedly with her hands swinging around wildly and her chest puffing out at the end to make her seem stronger. Your lips formed a big smile as you looked over at Hyun-su to see him lightly glaring at Ah-yi with a big blush coating his cheeks. 

“Ah, so you’ve told stories about me, have you?” You teased him and he looked at you before rolling his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled and you yelped as he yanked on your hand, sending you falling onto his chest with a loud laugh. 

You talked a bit more with Ah-yi, somehow ending with her laying her head in your lap as you leaned against Hyun-su with your back to his chest. The three of you watched the clouds, pointing out any shapes you could find and making up stories that Ah-yi seemed to love. Every time you looked over at Hyun-su, you could see all of his attention focused on you and how you interacted with the small child. 

Time seemed to fly as eventually, the sun started to fade into the distance, only leaving splotches of light shining through the leaves of the tall trees surrounding you. All three of you stood up and you glanced in the direction of the stadium with sad eyes. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Hyun-su yet. Even the thought of leaving the small girl you had grown strongly attached to in the past few hours broke your heart. Hyun-su seemed to sense your hesitation as he grabbed your hand. 

You looked back at him and he looked at you so fondly you felt like your heart might burst. With his thumb gently caressing your knuckles, he looked you in the eyes and said, “Stay. Stay with me. With us. You don’t have to go yet.”

He seemed just as desperate to make up for lost time with you as you were with him. His eyes widened and that smile you loved so dearly formed on his face when you nodded with little thought put into the decision. Pulling you closer with his arm circling your shoulders and one of yours circling his waist while the other hand reached out for Ah-yi to grab. She practically leaped at the opportunity.

“You ready, princess?” Hyun-su asked you in a soft teasing voice and you looked up at him with the same passionate smile gracing your lips. 

“Lead the way, my shining knight.”

~~~

Pt 2: Floating Above Those Dark Skies :)

[superiorsturgeon]

A Dream Deferred

Announcer: …and the Atlas Wolves shoot!

Atlas Hockey Player: *slaps a shot on goal*

Jaune: *slides to the side in a full split, snatching the puck out of the air with his glove*

Announcer: OOOHHH!!! BIG save by Arc! With a score of 2 - 2, no timeouts, and only ten seconds remaining in the championship game, JNPR has one last chance to pull ahead and take home the cup!

Ren: *pops his mouthguard in and squares up to face off* 😠

Referee: *drops puck*

Ren: *snaps puck away like lightning and passes to Pyrrha*

Announcer: …and JNPR wins the face off…

Nora: *shoulder-slams two Atlas defenders aside into the wall, rattling the glass* 😠

Announcer: OOOOH!! That’s a big hit from Valkyrie! Nikos is now wide open! And only four seconds left on the clock!

Pyrrha: *breaks away with the puck and bears down on Atlas goalie*

Atlas Goalie: *setting up to block* 😨

Pyrrha: *narrows her eyes* 👿

Pyrrha: *suddenly breaks right*

Atlas Goalie: *throws himself to the right*

Pyrrha: *flips the puck between her feet to the left and slaps it into the now-open goal* ⛸️🏒⛸️ 🥅

*Goal Horn*

Announcer: NIKOS SCORES!!! JNPR TAKES THE CUP!!!

Pyrrha: *skating on one leg and pumping her fist in triumph* 😆

Crowd: JU-NI-PER!! JU-NI-PER!! JU-NI-PER!! 🤩

Jaune/Nora/Ren: *dogpile Pyrrha in a group hug of pads, happy tears, and hockey sticks*

Jaune: *lifts his goalie mask and slams his mouth onto Pyrrha’s* 🥰

Pyrrha: *grabs Jaune’s sweaty hair and pulls him into the kiss* 😙 ❤️💛❤️💛

Announcer: A victory kiss for the team captain and her goalie husband!

Crowd: *watching the kiss on the Jumbotron* AWWWW!!! 😍

Nora: *lifts both Jaune/Pyrrha up in the air*

Ren: *raises championship cup in front of his team*

Crowd: JU-NI-PER!! JU-NI-PER!! JU-NI-PER!! 🤩

———————————————————

Pyrrha: 🤤

Ruby: PYRRHA!!

Pyrrha: *jumps* EEP!!! 😨

Ruby: I said, what do you think we should do with the Staff of Creation? 🤨

RWBY: 😕

JNR: 😕

Oscar: 😕

Winter: 😕

Maria: 🤨

Pietro: 🤨

Penny: *glitching and twitching* 😅

Ambrosius: 🤨

Pyrrha: ☹️

Pyrrha: 😖

Pyrrha: 😫

Pyrrha: *holds out staff* I…suppose we should help Penny…! 😓

Nora: I recognize that look. Team JNPR hockey team fantasy again?

Pyrrha: Our kids looked SO CUTE in their little jerseys…😭

[uncouth-the-fifth]

i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.

Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”

It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.

And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.

Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.

You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”

“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.

The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.

Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”

The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.

She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”

The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.

He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”

But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”

Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”

The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”

Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.

“Look out!” She stage-whispers.

Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.

“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”

All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.

Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?

You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”

He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.

“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”

…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.

You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”

“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.

You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.

“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”

You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.

“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”

Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.

He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.

…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”

He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.

A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”

“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”

Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”

The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.

For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.

“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”

Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.

He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”

You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.

You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.

“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”

All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”

He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.

A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”

-

Ask to be added to my Leon taglist!

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Learned Behaviours｡⋆.

Dick Grayson x plus size reader

The one where Alice has picked up some bad habits

Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff, dad!dick

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The Graysons

Nap time was sacred in the Grayson household. After lunch had been devoured and playtime had been played, you would all gather in the living room and toss blankets and pillows onto the floor before all curling up together for a nap.

It started when Alice was barely a week old. Neither you or Dick had any energy to step foot from the small square of warmth between the coffee table and the couch that had become Alice's spot. The both of you frequently fell asleep next to each other on the floor, watching over your little one as she slumbered on. And thus family nap time was born.

Now that Alice was almost 4, naps were a little less vital for her but as you hit the 6 month mark of your pregnancy and Dick started going back to his duty as Nightwing- naps were a necessity to the grown-ups. So you threw on some Bluey for your daughter to watch and curled around her little body as your husband wrapped an arm around your pregnant belly and nuzzled his nose into the back of your head. 

You both were passed out before the theme song ended.

A soft crunching brought you back from sleep. You groaned, now feeling uncomfortable as your front is cold while your back is overheating. You shoved Dick away from you, getting immediate relief from his furnace-like body but something was still wrong.

The TV was paused on an image of the cartoon dogs your daughter loved so much, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Ali?” You called, your voice raspy with sleep, but you were met with more soft crunching.

You groaned and sat up, your stomach churned as your baby woke up with you. “I know I know.” You whispered to them, standing cautiously, taking note that the sun had long-since set. Dick was still asleep at your feet, now curled around a pillow instead of your soft body. 

A thud came from the kitchen, distracting you from the sight of your handsome husband. A dull blue light filtered into the living room from behind the huge L-shaped couch. Now curious, you stepped around Dick quietly and tip-toed into the fully renovated kitchen.

Your brows scrunched in confusion- the fridge was wide open, providing the light you had seen from the living room but all other lights were off. “Ali?” You called out again, causing the crunching to stop. 

There was a clatter of dishes and then the fridge slammed shut. “'M here mommy!” Alice called back in a sickly sweet voice that she always used when she was in trouble. You smiled as she rounded the kitchen island. She wore an oversized hoodie, it flaring out around her legs from where it covered the black tutu she wore constantly these days. 

Her dark hair was in cute little buns at the top of her head, still somehow perfectly styled even after a day of play with her father. “What are you up to, baby bird?” You rub a hand over her head as she clutched at your pyjama pants.

“Nothin'.��� She responded but her eyes darted over to the fridge.

You sighed. “Were you doing something you weren't supposed to?” She shook her head reluctantly. “Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I got a snack would you?” Her eyes went wide.

“Lemme get it for you mommy! You need rest!” She attempted to shove your legs to send you back to the couch but stopped when she saw your raised eyebrow. Alice scurried off, once again disappearing behind the island counter.

One of the cabinets slammed open, there was a rustle of plastic and then she returned, her tiny arms laden with her favourite snacks almost as if she were giving up an offering. “Here mommy! Now go sit.” You laughed under your breath at her antics.

“Alice, it's ok if you were hungry and wanted to get yourself a snack but you know not to go into the fridge without daddy or I to help you, you could’ve made a very big mess.” Her head lolled forward in shame. She dropped all her snacks to the floor in favour of \lifting her chunky hands above her head.

You did not hesitate to scoop her up and sit her on her wide hip. Immediately, she burrowed her face into your neck. “Sorry momma.” She murmured, her breath warming your skin. Placing a kiss to her soft forehead, you walked into the kitchen.

“That's ok baby, I know you were probably getting really hungry while daddy and I slept huh?” She nodded. The kitchen floor was spotless, which was surprising considering your daughter was about as graceful as a drunk giraffe, but there was a suspicious looking spoon on the ground.

Ignoring it for now, you went to the large fridge and carefully pulled open the door, bracing yourself for what you were about to find.

One of Dick's boxes of cereals sat on the second lowest shelf, slowly leaking milk onto the glass below while the half-empty jug sat open next to it. Unable to stop yourself, you laughed aloud, jostling your daughter who now rested on your chest.

It was an incredibly familiar sight from long before Alice was born. Dick used to frequently pour milk directly into bags of cereal in order to eat directly out of the box to cut down on dishes. 

You gave Alice a loving squeeze and set her down on the tile floor. “Good job not making a mess baby but maybe next time we can use a bowl and not the box.” She nodded in agreement, her smile returning now that she knew she wasn't in trouble. “Ok, let mommy clear this up. How about you wake up dad and get him to order us some pizza?”

Her little feet slapped against the floor as she ran off back to where her dad continued to slumber. With some effort, you retrieved the spoon and threw it into the sink before grabbing the soggy cardboard and throwing it into the trash just in time to hear a pained cry from Dick.

Standing on your toes, you were able to see that she had slid on her knees onto the blankets and then directly into his gut, violently waking him. “Hey there birdie.” He groaned.

“Mommy says we get pizza!” She shouted at him.

“Oh does she? And is mommy paying for this pizza?” His arms wound around her, tugging the small girl to his chest as she giggled.

“Daddy's paying cause obviously someone's been eating directly from the cereal box again and his little clone has picked up the habit.” At least he looked shameful as he glanced at you with a shy smile.

“Ok daddy's getting pizza!” Alice cheered and you rolled your eyes, somehow not being annoyed at all.

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @km-ffluv

The Graysons

@lovelyy-moonlight @girl-of-multi-fandoms @hc-geralt-23

[wittlesissyb4by]

Click HERE to read Chapter 1!

Click HERE to read Chapter 2!!

Click HERE to read Chapter 3!!!

Chapter 4 - The Ritual

“Do you want a mask?” Savannah asked, pulling her diaper/book bag close to her. “It really helps with the smell.”

Jack was on his back, sprawled on the floor with the gaggle of girls seated around him, his wife kneeling between his legs. 

“That’s okay…” Marianne replied hesitantly. Her voice was a bit shaky, staring down at the large, loaded diaper before her. The smell was already quite pungent, but she wanted Jack to be able to see the entirety of her face throughout, she thought he would like that, and she wanted to show that she wasn’t too intimidated by the task—even though she was. “I can handle it.” She said to the crowd, but probably more to herself. 

“They have these things called ‘Devrom’ tablets.” Trinity explained, “crush up a few and put them in their bottles and it takes away the smell like magic.”

Brooke looked shocked. “It doesn’t stink at all??”

“Girl, I don’t even bat an eye.” She scoffed, “ but without them I’m fucking dyinggg”

The girls all laughed and nodded in agreement, now deadset on trying it. 

When the giggles finally died down, all eyes focused on the grown man wallowing in his own filth before them. Marianne felt the heavy expectations weighing on her again. She could easily pass the task off to one of the other girls, she was sure they would happily oblige. But this was her husband, her responsibility. No more dilly-daddling (as she liked to say) the time was now. 

She could feel how hard he was when she pressed her palm to the landing zone of the diaper, holding it down so she could grip the tapes with her fingers and pull them off one by one. 

1…

2…

3…

4…

The front of the diaper flapped about once the fasteners were freed. Marianne gripped the front, then felt a hand to her shoulder. 

“We’re here with you,” Claire smiled reassuringly , “now take a deep breath, and open it up.”

Marianne smiled, happy to have the other girls around even for this moment that would otherwise be intimate. There would be plenty of time for that to happen between just her and Jack in the future. For now, it was time. 

She peeled the front of the diaper open. It wasn’t quite as horrific as she’d imagined, but it wasn’t exactly a pocket full of posies either. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if they didn’t make him mush it around with his humping, but it was still doable. The smell punched her square in the face, she had to clamp her watering eyes shut and turn her head to catch some fresh air and keep herself from gagging. 

Brooke handed her the package of wipes. Marianne pulled out several, then several more. It was probably going to take even more than that to get the job done. 

“Use the front of the diaper to clean the majority of the mess,” Savannah said helpfully. 

Right. She knew that. She’d changed many-a-diapers before, just not one so big and defiled. Pulling the front flap of the diaper, Marianne pressed down and worked much of the mush down his bits and crack to the bottom of the diaper. That took care of most of it, now she would only need a few wiped for the cleanup.  The girls on either side of Jack’s legs grabbed his calves and lifted them up to her so that his ankles locked together in her palm. She raised his legs so that she had an easier access to his crack, which she cleaned with a few wipes as well as other areas that got a little messy. By then, she was more or less nose-blind to the smell. Overall, it wasn’t too unpleasant of an experience, but not exactly her idea of a picnic either. She pulled the soiled diaper out from beneath him, rolled it into a ball, taped it up, and set it to the side. She immediately wanted to wash her hands, but Val already had a tube of sanitizer ready to go. 

“I know how it is,” she said with a shrug and a grin before squirting a healthy dollop of the liquid into Marianne’s palm. 

“Okay,” Marianne sighed, clapping her palms back and forth triumphantly, “that wasn’t too bad!”

Jack and all the girls smiled. The latter gave her a proud little clap. 

“You did so good!”

“Great job!”

“I almost puked my first time!”

“It only gets easier!”

Marianne was so flattered by their words of encouragement that she almost forgot what she was doing. Luckily, the girls were there to save the day again, handing her a fresh diaper, powder, lotion, and all the other essentials. 

“Wait!” Savannah exclaimed once Marianne had the new diaper splayed out beneath Jack’s bottom. “Are we gonna…practice first?” She asked suggestively, then shrugged when the other girls eyed her. “What? It’s part of why we came here isn’t it? The exam isn’t just written, it’s practical too, we’re going to have to demonstrate that we know what we’re do—“

“But we can’t do that if Marianne doesn’t feel comfortable.” Brooke interjected. 

“No,” Marianne said, silencing the room, “No…it’s…fine.” she sighed, “It’s why you all came here in the first place, right?”

The girls collectively shrugged, not wanting to impose, but also a bit stressed for the test. Marianne smiled in hopes of giving them some relief. “Worry not, dears! He’s all yours! Savannah? You’re up first!”

Even though Marianne had reservations about letting other people touch her husband, being able to be a strong leader for other people was always a strong passion of hers. It was hard for her to not have a matronly affection for this group of budding women. She wanted to see them succeed just as much as she did her own. 

Savannah quickly switched places, looking more than a bit nervous. Marianne was happy to see someone else be the center of attention (other than a naked Jack) for a change. 

“Gloves,” Marianne reminded her, handing her a set. Savannah smiled, accepting the nitrile gloves and putting them on her hands ever so slowly. Jack quivered on the floor, the diaper beneath him crinkling, he looked so scared and helpless, but his dick betrayed him. It was sticking straight up in the air, twitching and bobbing back and forth with a hefty amount of leakage. The girls, including Savannah and Marianne especially, cackled in amusement.

“I grew up in a very conservative family,” Savannah explained as she squeezed a dollop of lotion onto two of her fingers. “I didn’t even know about the prostate and the supposed ‘p-spot’. Hell, they wouldn’t even tell me about the female G-spot! So imagine my surprise when I found out men could cum this way!!” She brought her hand downwards between Jack’s crack, poked around for a bit, leaned down to check to make sure she’d found his hole, checked again, then pressed inward. 

Jack immediately clenched, arms and legs splaying upward as Savannah entered him. The other girls, including Marianne, immediately gripped a wrist or ankle and pressed it back down to the floor, holding him still. 

“Shhhh!! Just relax little Jackie!” Brooke cooed. 

“It’ll be okay!”

“Just a little poke!”

Val looked to Savannah. “Did you find it?”

“I’m not sure…” Savannah said, screwing up her face and looking up at the ceiling with concentration as she prodded around inside Jack’s rectum. 

“Up and back,” Trinity explained helpfully.

“Behind his wiener.”

“Give the ‘come hither’ motion.”

“I’m trying…” Savannah said, “but I just can’t–”

Unnghhh!!

It was Jack. He’d let out the most pathetic, high-pitched squeal.

“Oh!” Savannah smiled salaciously, “Well I guess that’s the spot then, huh?”

She spent several seconds working her finger in and out of Jack’s hole. Practicing finding it again and again until she was sure she had it down. When she was satisfied, she pulled off the gloves and set them next to his rolled up dirty diaper, leaving Jack a heaving mess on the floor.

Brooke picked up the next set of gloves, despite being one of the more experienced ones in the group. “Doesn’t hurt to practice, does it?” She shrugged with a smile.

From there, it was a merry-go-round of the different girls snapping on the medical gloves and probing Jack’s asshole like they were looking for buried treasure. Some of them worked it more than others. Val specifically seemed to get enjoyment out of how much leakage she could force out of Jack’s cock without him having a full-on orgasm. 

While the other girls were waiting, someone suggested they give Jack a makeover.

“He’d look sooo much cuter as a baby girl!!” They cooed.

Marianne was reluctant at first, but once they all started painting the nails of whichever extremity of Jack’s they were holding, she had to admit it was quite fun, and he did look rather cute with what was left of his graying hair tied up in a little fountain pigtail at the top of his head. Brooke even had a ruffly pink croptop to put him in. “Always bring extra outfits in your diaper bag, I always say!” she toted over the hysterical laughter of the other girls. 

“It’s back to you, Marianne.” Trinity said while applying mascara to Jack’s lashes. Val hardly needed to apply any blush to his already rosy cheeks, but she did it anyway.

“Well I think we’ve all got it down now, don’t we?” Marianne asked the room, they collectively nodded, feeling pretty confident. “So if that’s the case, I don’t see why we need to go any further with–”

“M-mommy?”

It was the softest of voices. The circle of girls all looked down to the center, where the helpless man in his 50’s was squirming with his made-up face all scrunched up in desperation. 

Marianne eyed the rest of the girls, then her husband, “What is it, dear?”

It was Jack’s eyes that danced around now, side to side, his squirming intensified. He tried to bring a hand up to his face, to do literally anything with his hands, but Trinity gave it a sharp slap so he didn’t ruin his make-up.

“Use your words!” she barked sternly.

It was like watching someone try to speak for the first time. Jack mewed and cooed but no discernible words came out. Until he finally found his voice and said “C-can I cum?”

The girls, including Marianne, roared with laughter. 

“Awww!! Wittle baybee wants to make cummies!!”

“Is somewon fwustwated??”

“Poor wittle guy!!”

“Don’t you mean gurl?? Hahaha!!”

When the laughter died down, Marianne spoke with her leadership voice. “Hmm…watta you think girls? Should my hubby here get to cum?”

The room seemed entirely against it, but Claire at least seemed to consider. “Maybe if he begs…”

“Ooh! I like that!”

“Yea! Let’s hear the wittle baybee say pweez!”

“Use the magic word!!”

“Beg little bitch boi!” Trinity immediately caught her breath at using such language, turning to Marianne, but she immediately shook it off as nothing.

“Go on,” she nodded at her husband.

Jack’s powdered face turned scarlet, but he’d already come this far, he just had yet to cum…despite being fingered, teased and tortured by a bunch of beautiful college girls.

“P-please Goddesses…” he said in the highest tone he could muster, “C-can I pweez make cummies?”

The question hung in the air for several seconds, drawing out his desperation.

“I didn’t hear him…” Claire finally said, “Did you hear him?”

“Nope…” the girls shook their head in unison. “Maybe he needs to say it louder…”

“PWEEZ can I make cummieeeessss” Jack whined desperately.

“Tell us you’re a princess!”

“A pamper princess!”

“Suck your thumb!”

“Wiggle your hips!”

“Shake that clitty!”

It was a pitiful sight. Jack with his thumb planted between his glossy lips, swishing around in his new pink top, whimpering and whining and pleading for pleasure while he smacked his throbbing, leaking cock to and fro from thigh to thigh.

“Watta you say girls?” Marianne asked again, “Do you think he’s earned it?”

This time they nodded, some having to wipe away tears from how hard they were laughing. 

“How should we have him do it?” Brooke asked, always the planner. They looked to Marianne expectantly, but she just shrugged, unsure.

“Humpies?”

“Na, too boring.”

“Let him stroke it?”

“Even more boring!”

“I know!” Claire exclaimed, quieting the room. They all leaned in intently. “I heard…that for last year’s final exam, they had to make a mannekin cum without any penile or anal stimulation. Maybe we could work on that!”

“So, you mean, just make him…cum himself? Without touching him at all?”

“You can touch them.” Claire clarified, “Just not on their naughty bits.”

They all exchanged glances. “Sounds impossible.” Trinity scoffed.

“Yea, no way.” 

“I’ve made them cum in cages,” Val shrugged, “But I always use plugs or vibrators. We can’t use those either?”

“Nope.”

They all bit their bottom lips in thought, contemplating. 

Finally, Marianne broke the silence: “Well…we can always try. And if we don’t get it, no harm no foul, right? I’m sure Jack can wait for another time!”

He didn’t seem thrilled about that at all, but he also liked the idea of them trying to make him cum, so his frazzled brain just sat there drooling instead of making up its mind on how it felt about the situation.

“Soo…” Brooke intoned, “how should we start?”

******

Jack was a mess of panic and excitement. He quivered like a cornered puppy within the circle of six women. Marianne found herself surprisingly aroused by how helpless and exhilarated he seemed.  She could feel the pheromones radiating off of him. 

“It’s okay Jack,” she said softly, running her hand affectionately up his leg, “we’re going to take good care of you…”

The girls giggled and hummed, like they were all in a cleansing ritual of some kind. Their hands traced the skin of whatever body part was closest to them, arms, legs, neck, chest, ears and feet. The pressed their perfect, perky tits out and into his line of sight, bouncing them, squeezing them together, bringing them centimeters from his face only to bounce them away again.

Marianne continued to move her hands over his legs, up and down, up and down, feeling his body tense and relax rhythmically. His cock was standing straight up in the air, bouncing and bobbing as he clenched, pre-cum raining out and down his shaft. It was working.

Jack’s eyes closed and rolled backward, Trinity didn’t seem satisfied enough with that, though, pulling a blindfold out and placing it over his balding head, depriving the one sense so as to intensify the rest. 

Brooke took a pacifier out and brought it to his lips, gently running it over and around them. Jack opened his mouth to receive it, breath catching and releasing desperately. Soft, squeaky moans creaking from his throat. He tried to reach blindly for the rubber nipple with his mouth, but Brooke deftly pulled it away each time, making him even more whiny and desperate.

Savannah ran her nails along the ruffles of his princess shirt, tweaking his nipples until he let out a gasp, then a bit harder until he yelped, but he didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, it made his dick swell and twitch even more.

Marianne didn’t think she’d ever seen her husband so turned on. She used her finger to circle around his pubic region, making sure not to touch any of his private parts, even though she wanted to. She knew if she could just wrap a hand (or even two fingers) around his pulsing shaft, it would all be over in seconds. He raised his hips and wriggled desperately over his diaper, searching for her hand, trying to get any sort of stimulation to his cock that he could, but Marianne just smiled and dodged it easily. 

Val brought Jack’s hand close to her breast, looking to Marianne for approval. She gave a definitive nod. Jack would be eternally grateful to her for this experience, and he would be thanking her in plenty of ways later. He gently squeezed Valencia’s boobs, and Savannah’s too.

“Squeeze his thighs,” Claire whispered in Marianne’s ear to where Jack couldn’t hear, “I do it when I give my boyfriend a blowjob and it drives him crazy.”

Marianne obliged, gripping his inner legs while he gripped the girls’ boobs. His breathing intensified, his thighs shook beneath her grasp. Trinity and Brooke were whispering and nibbling at his ears, breathing down his neck, Brooke still dangling the pacifier ever so slightly away from his puckering lips.

Jack was getting stimulated in every single one of his erogenous zones and then some, with the exception, of course, of his penis. His groans were gutteral, then high-pitched and needy all at the same time. Six pairs of hands circled his skin, rubbing, poking, pinching, scratching, tapping. Jolts of electricity coursing through him. Marianne had never seen him so turned on, she didn’t think she had ever been so turned on, just by seeing her husband turned into a pitiful, whimpering, whining puddle right before her eyes. 

“You’re gonna be our little fairy boi” Trinity whispered in his ear.

“Our little loser we’ll parade around town” Brooke continued.

Jack shook his head back and forth, as if trying to block out the sounds that were making him so incredibly aroused.

“We’ll make you our little bitch!” Val said, joining in.

“Everyone’s gonna know how pathetic you are.” Savannah intoned.

His breathing got louder, crescendoing. His body tensed, spasming. He humped the air, rubbed his ass over the diaper below, making it crinkle. Brooke shoved the pacifier in his mouth, he sucked it like it contained the nectar of the gods. Marianne squeezed his thighs, forcing him down. So did the other girls on his extremities, pinning him down like they were worried their little ritual was going to make him levitate up to the ceiling. 

Marianne smiled, they had him, he just needed one last little push. She leaned over so that her mouth was inches away from his dick, to where he could only feel her hot breath upon it: “...and all of it while you are wearing a big, fat, diaper.”

Then, to all of their surprise, with one last, powerful grunt, his dick started erupting. A huge shot of semen soared through the air, then another, and another. Marianne backed away as soon as she saw it go off but, being between his legs, caught the most of the onslaught. Sticky juices rained out of her husband’s penis, showering the front of her shirt. The girls continued to pin him down while he spasmed and suckled his pacifier, air whistling through his nose as he had one of the most powerful orgasms any of them had ever witnessed.

All of them were wide-eyed, exchanging glances, like they could not possibly believe what they just saw. Jack’s jism was everywhere, he just came a gallon’s worth–and they didn’t even touch him. The girls checked their arms and legs to make sure none of it got on them, then they erupted in genuine, surprised laughter. 

“I can’t believe he did it!”

“We did it!”

“I didn’t think it was possible.”

“If we can make a creepy old man do that, imagine how easy a horned-up college boy will be!”

The girls released Jack, who was still panting on the floor, eyes glazed from his orgasm. Marianne returned to the task at hand, bringing the diaper upward. She didn’t bother cleaning up his goo goo, the diaper would absorb it, and he’d probably be wetting it soon anyway. Speaking of wet, a slight shifting of Marianne’s thighs told her she had enjoyed that little ritual too. Why had such a scene been such a turn on? And why was she starting to come up with more ways to degrade and humiliate her husband? She was enjoying all of this quite a bit more than she ever would have thought.

To Be Continued

I just released Chapter 6 - Diapers and Dommes - on my Substar!! I'm pretty proud of it, so I hope you'll decide to join and read it. Your support goes a long way to continue to keep a roof over my head, and provide electricity to write more! ALL of my stories are available to Bronze subscribers and up!

[penny00dreadful]

Eddie would sing Fat Bottomed Girls to Steve every chance he got.

On stage in front of thousands with grabby hands.

In the kitchen when Steve was "just trying to cook, Eds, for Christ's sake" giving his ass a few taps in time to his singing just to see it jiggle.

In the car where Steve had literally no escape and had to put up with it with a little frowny frown because he was trying so hard not to smile.

And when Robin had suspiciously been trying to keep his attention away from the stage at their wedding, Steve knew something was coming.

Steve had been expecting something to happen because Eddie was nothing if not a performer and to have an event centred around the two of them with their closest here to celebrate, he'd be more surprised if nothing happened.

But when whatever had been playing in the background faded out and he heard Eddie's voice boom out through the speakers-

Are you gonna take me home tonight?

Steve's eyes and Robin's grin grew wide at the same time.

Oh, down beside that red firelight

He hid his face in his hands, there were already whoops and wolf whistles from their gathered guests in his direction.

Are you gonna let it all hang out?

"Oh, don't pretend to be going bashful." Robin shouted at him, to be heard over Eddie's singing. "I've had to listen to too many horny thoughts from you about this song, you're so fucking in love right now, aren't you?"

Fat bottomed girls

You make the rockin' world go 'round

Steve lifted his face, unable to hide his huge smile any longer. Robin gave him a shove in the direction of the dance floor where the crowd parted for him with nudges and slaps on the shoulder.

Hey, I was just a skinny lad

Never knew no good from bad

But I knew life before I left my nursery, huh

Eddie was in his fucking element, bouncing around the small stage like it was Madison Square Garden.

He finally caught sight of Steve, who was red faced but couldn't stop grinning as he watched his now husband wave one hand down like he was mapping out curves.

Left alone with big fat Fanny

She was such a naughty nanny

Hey, big woman

You made a bad boy out of me

He fought the urge to hide his face again, especially when he remembered just who was here.

Hopper, Joyce, Mrs. Henderson, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair, fucking Wayne was here watching him getting sexually serenaded.

Eddie continued to sing while the Corroded Coffin boys played through with matching exasperated but delighted grins, obviously having a great time simultaneously playing and embarrassing the shit out of Steve.

He was drawn to Eddie like a magnet. He didn't even remember stepping closer but next thing he knew he was in front of the stage, a one man recipient to a show just for him.

Eddie reached out and for one terrifying moment, Steve thought he was going to touch his hair.

He did not spend hours on it this morning only for it to be messed up before one of them got to be bent over their honeymoon suite bed later that night.

Eddie seemed to have realised that too, at the last second redirecting his hand to stroke over Steve's cheek.

Oh, but I still get my pleasure

Still got my greatest treasure

Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man of me

The stage was low and it wasn't huge so Steve was only really at chest height, but he could tell in that moment and with those lyrics, all Eddie wanted to do was thrust his pelvis in Steve's face but thankfully he kept himself on a leash even though everyone behind Steve was still whooping and hollaring.

When the song finally closed out, Eddie threw the mic behind him, not much caring where it landed. Luckily for everyone's eardrums Grant managed to snatch it up with a scowl before it clattered to the ground.

Eddie wasn't paying attention though. He'd planted one hand on either of Steve's shoulders and jumped down from the stage, trusting that he'd be caught.

Which he was.

Eddie wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and Steve had to try very hard to not let his hands wander, so instead he locked his wrists under Eddie's thighs, maybe, just maybe getting away with a little pinch to the ass that only the Corroded Coffin boys could see.

They were extremely unbothered. They'd seen it all before. They'd seen much worse before.

"You're a menace." Steve grumbled, still unable to keep his smile away.

Eddie hummed in agreement, looking down on him from his higher position. "Your menace."

"My menace."

[morganbritton132]

would steve ever insist that eddie comes to basketball games with him just so they have an excuse to get those good seats right at the court that famous people and celebrities usually get?

Eddie is not Steve’s go-to person if he wants basketball tickets.

He goes to Lucas because every doctor knows a doctor that knows someone with season tickets they never use. And also, Steve kinda wants to go to the game with someone who, you know, will actually enjoy being there.

Eddie’s undying hatred of all things sports is, well…undying.

But Steve’s been a Pacers’ fan since the first time his dad shoved a basketball in his hands and taught him how to shoot. He has watched them lose in the playoffs every year that they make it to it, but he’s convinced. 2014 was going to be different.

He just can’t get tickets. He spent all day trying to buy them online and failed, and all the resale tickets are for seats that suck or way over his paygrade. Him and Eddie pay for their own hobbies out of their separate bank accounts, and Steve can’t afford the absolutely ridiculous price that’s being asked so…

“Please?” Steve asked, big puppy eyes and adorable little pout. He knew what he was doing and so did Eddie. “Pretty please? I never ask you for anything, Ed…Okay, fine, except for all the stuff I ask you for, but this is different. It’s a small price to pay to see my team win.”

“Your team that has literally never won in the history of all time?”

“How many championships does Leg-less the loser elf have?” Steve asked.

“…It’s Legolas,” Eddie said. “And he was a part of the fellowship that kinda saved the world.”

“So was I,” Steve pointed out. “And I deserve this.”

Steve didn’t ask for courtside seats. He didn’t ask to be sat among the rich and famous. Hell, he didn’t even ask Eddie to go with him. He just wanted to see if Eddie had a connection that could get him a ticket for a seat that wasn’t in the nosebleeds.

Steve doesn’t really believe that the tickets Eddie showed him are real until they are sitting in their seats – their seats that are courtside and five feet away from Paul George warming up. Steve is so excited to be there that he pretty much misses Eddie shaking someone’s hand right in front of him until he’s nudged in the shoulder, “Babe, you know, Sandy, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says absently, sparing a glance in the direction Eddie was gesturing before looking back out at the court. It takes him a second for his brain to register who he was just looking at and then, “Holy shit, you’re Sandra Bullock.”

She is just as beautiful and as nice as Steve has always thought she was, and she’s amused by him which makes Steve blush. She holds out her hand to him, “And you are…”

“I’m…” Steve trails off, only picking back up his train of thought when Eddie laughs loudly beside him. “Steve. I’m Steve. Uh, Harrington. Eddie’s – I’m – we’re together, by law.”

“We’re married,” Eddie grinned, throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder, and wiggling his wedding ring at her. “Still working on how to tell people, obviously.”

She congratulates them and talks to them a bit about the game (bring Steve out of his starstruck stupor), and even buys them champagne as a late little wedding gift. It’s a blast.

Eddie spends half the game flinching every time the ball bounces a little too close or a player nearly ends up in their lap, but Steve is loving all of it. The other half of the time, Eddie is having Steve explain what’s going on and who the players are, or he’s talking to the guy next to him.

It’s some square jawed model type that Steve doesn’t recognize and also, doesn’t like. He’s a little too friendly with his husband, especially when he curled a piece of Eddie’s hair around his finger. When the two of them end up on the kiss cam together, Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to register it before Steve pulls him nearly out of the camera frame and kisses him.

Later, fans will make jokes about the pictures of that night because it’s very clear that Steve and Eddie switched seats.

[mellowswriting]

i work this weekend so i’m sending this in early but; Soap with a breeding kink 😩 he wants a huge family idc

babe. you are so right. don’t even get me started on how crazy he would be when you’re actually pregnant 😩

sinful sunday

Johnny talks about it constantly. He muses about what life would look like with a few little ones running amok; a full house, the sound of little feet stampeding through the halls, raising little warriors that look like the two of you. He doesn’t push or pressure you, of course. He’s more than willing to wait until you’re ready - but that doesn’t stop him from waxing poetic about how amazing it will be. The moment you tell him you’re ready to start trying, his brain bluescreens from the rush of different emotions. 

“Dinnae say that to me, hen.” He whispers, eyes wide. “Not unless you really mean it.” 

“Well, I stopped taking the pill and I saw my doctor.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you settle in his lap. He looks at you like you’re blowing his mind and giving him the entire universe all at once. His hands come to rest at your waist, his touch gentle and reverent. “Plus, both my calendar and the test I just took say I’m ovulating.” 

John blinks up at you, still buffering as he processes. “So… you really mean it?” 

“Yeah, you dork. I really mean it.” 

Your over-preparedness was a necessity because you knew for a fact that the moment you told him, he would not rest until he knocked you up. Getting everything squared away meant all that pent-up eagerness would be put to good use - and boy, does John really use it. 

It’s been at least thirty-six hours since you’ve seen anything besides the four walls of the bedroom you share with your baby fever stricken husband. You feel hot, your body wracked with trembles as his softening cock slips out of your well-fucked pussy. Fuck, you never knew it was possible to feel so empty yet so full at the same time. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, how many orgasms he’s pulled from your strung out body, how many times he’s buried himself deep and filled you with his seed. 

“There you go, that’s my girl.” Johnny sighs, honeyed reverence dripping from his lips. His big, warm palms slide up your thighs and squeeze gently, tenderly helping you come down from the rigorous way he’s worked you over. His eyes are bright with affection as he looks over you for even the slightest sign of pain or discomfort. “You look so pretty full of my cum. Gonna look even prettier with my baby in your belly.”

“Fuck, John…” The roughness of your voice makes him smile. He’s always had a thing about this - you all sweaty and fucked out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name, your body prone and trembling beneath him. John thrives on being a good husband and right now, that means knocking up his pretty little wife. His cock twitches, already half hard and nudging your thigh. You give him an incredulous look and huff out a disbelieving laugh. “How are you still hard?”

“Can ya blame me?” John’s eyes trail down your body and he shakes his head. “I mean, look at you… my gorgeous wife, all fucked full a’ me…” 

His praise sends you flush with warmth, stokes the flames of arousal in your belly. The effect he has on you is intoxicating. Your body aches with overstimulation yet John gives you that appreciative look, his eyes bright with desire, and you ache for more. His hand slips down to trace the mess he’s made of you and you concede to him, spread your thighs and welcome the pleasure-pain of his touch. 

“Just one more, hen. One more and I’ll let ya rest. Gotta make sure it takes, don’t we?” He babbles as he presses close and hooks your legs around his waist. The kiss he drags you into is messy, all spit and tongue and desperation. He drinks in the sound of your cry as he slides into your abused pussy, meeting no resistance as his cum leaks out around his cock. “ I’ll do all the work, you just lay back and let me make you feel good, yeah?  That’s it, good girl…” 

[vamossainz55]

toy swords - carlos sainz jr.

summary: family antics on a summer vacation, or a really quick drabble inspired by @scuderiasundays insta au 'holiday, celebrate' a/n: very short drabble (600 words) but thought it was so much fun. we need more dad!carlos fics. yes this is my cry for help. enjoy xoxo.

“I leave for five minutes. Five minutes- and this is what you decide to do?”

Carlos is grinning from ear to ear, arms crossed with a satisfied look on his face as he watches the three little rebels run around the square. It’s a normal sight really, they loved entertaining each other. The only difference this time though, are the plastic swords that were being waved in the air.

“I thought we said no more toys?” You ask, sitting down on the metal chair next to your husband. He looks over at you innocently, with wide doe eyes and a small pout on his lips.

His hand snakes to your knee, giving it a squeeze. “Sorry?” He says, smiling when he receives a gentle peck on the lips in return. You let the kiss linger before pulling away, just enough to let Carlos think he’s off the hook. When you catch him smiling victoriously you pinch his side, earning a yelped out ay that has you snickering. 

“Come on, you know the puppy dog eyes stopped working as soon as Riley learned how to do it better.” You tease, laughing when he groans and throws his head back dramatically. 

Your attention is ripped away from him at the sound of Celia’s shriek and for a second your heart leaps. Your eyes search for her as Carlos nods to their direction, this time giving your hand a squeeze instead. 

“No pasa nada,” It’s fine. He says just as you spot them. To nobody’s surprise, you find her being chased around this time, Riley and Sam following her with the swords. You can’t help but soften at the sight of Celia running, much smaller legs struggling to keep away from her brothers. 

“They’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You breathe out, shaking your head as your heart rate slows down again. Carlos hums, intertwining your fingers with his before looking over at you. 

“What?” You ask after a few seconds, eyes drifting from the kids to him. 

“Tengo muchísima suerte.” I am so lucky he murmurs, sneaking a kiss to your cheek. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to hide the smile threatening to creep on your lips, but you can’t do anything about the blush forming on your cheeks. 

“Te estas poniendo roja!” You’re getting red, Carlos grins in triumph and you poke his side just as the waiter comes with your drinks and the gelato you had ordered for everyone. 

“Chicos!” Kids, Carlos calls out. The sight of ice cream is enough to have all three running to the table, all of them soon fighting to climb into their chairs. 

The gelato is gone in mere minutes and you question whether giving already hyperactive kids sugar was the best idea. 

Riley and Sam share looks before grabbing their swords. You watch them in curiosity as they stand up, going to their father. Your brows raise as soon as they point the swords towards him. 

Celia giggles, climbing onto your lap. 

“Ogre! Surrender the princesses!”  Carlos scowls at the name to which you hold back a laugh. 

“How are you going to get out of this one hm? Big guy?” You tease Carlos as he lifts his hands up. You barely catch the smirk on his face though as he leans down to grab something. 

It takes you a moment to realise what it is and you can’t help but grin, shaking your head. Of course he did. 

Because there he was, a plastic sword in his right arm and a plastic shield on his left. He gets up and steals a glance towards you, and no matter how hard you try to keep a serious face you can’t. 

“If you want the princesses, you have to get through me."

[midniiights-garden]

A Porcelain Doll and a Blade [3] - Mizu x Fem!Reader

Summary: The bar keeper crossed the line. The Beauty has finally decided to commit a murder and the Beast is simply shocked.

Possible TWs!!!: Canon typical violence, blood and gore, period typical sexisim, swearing

After the little scuffle you decide to just keep silent, preparing for the day without turning to the stranger. However, Mizu keeps glancing at you. You can feel her sharp eyes on your back, her gaze digging into your skin as if trying to pierce straight through you.

Getting fed up with her continued gaze you decide to speak.

"...what's your name?" You finally ask.

"It's Mizu," the stranger replies, now attempting to make eye contact with you to no avail.

Mizu. Hm. You think the name suits them. In exchange you tell her your name, still not making eye contact with her. Are you still a little bit miffed from the fight? Yes.

Mizu merely nods as you tell her your name. Of course, neither of you are aware that your stories are inevitably intertwined from this point onwards. The minute the both of you decided to squabble the fates set in, tying you together.

The two of you head down together, still not talking. It was a bit awkward. What is one supposed to say after a fight, after all? You had already apologized as well, there was nothing more to it, right?

At the counter, the bar keeper raises his gaze, a soft snort leaving his chapped lips. The man sneers, looking pointedly between the two of us.

"Better not have stained my sheets," he says.

You are instantly offended all over again. Mizu, on the other hand, just looks mildly irritated. Unfortunately for the both of us, the man can't seem to take a hint and continued to speak.

"Looks like we know why you don't have a husband, huh?" The bar keeper says snidely. "Can't keep your legs shut."

You finally had enough.

Without another word you swing at the man, hitting him square in the jaw with a sickening crack. The man screams, blood pouring out his nose and mouth. You, however, do not relent. Without giving him the time to recover you backhand him. Now his face was bruised and purple, the area of his jaw where you had initially punched him was swollen and most likely broken. His lip was broken, his nose bent to the side.

One last hit. You decide to uppercut him, successfully making the bar keeper pass out, his maggot like body hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Throughout this Mizu just stared in shock. What was she supposed to do anyways? She had never seen another woman besides herself be this upfront or aggressive. She had never seen any woman actually unafraid. But there you were, very much unafraid but very much angry. Like those stories of haunted dolls who killed their owners. Once the man was knocked out all Mizu could was stare. She was both impressed, terrified and annoyed. If someone had heard the man scream the both of them would be in big trouble.

Luckily, it seems no one had. Mizu continues to stare as you simply wipe your hands off with a rag before grabbing some bread and trotting over to a secluded corner to eat. Your anger had subsided once you had knocked some sense into the man and you were now the calmest you had been since arriving.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts Mizu followed you. Why? She didn't actually know herself. But something drew her to you. Perhaps it was because you were beautiful. Or perhaps it was the fact that you just took down a nearly two meter tall man with ease. Who knew? But all Mizu knew was that you'd be useful to her. Or at least, that's how she justified her interest.

"You can fight," she notes.

You raise your eyebrow. "Yes," you reply. "If you're about to insult me then I can show you just how well I am able to."

Mizu merely snorts, amused at your continued stubbornness and fiery spirit. It was... refreshing.

"No need. We already fought earlier, remember?"

At her recollection of your earlier squabble you huff, clearly irritated.

"That doesn't count. I just woke up."

Mizu rolls her eyes, simply taking a sip of the tea she had taken before following after you.

"Sure," she replies dryly.

You can sense she's just trying to rile you up. So you take a deep breath, calming yourself once more.

"Believe what you want," you respond coldly. "I do not need your approval."

Amused yet again, Mizu leans closer, her blue eyes piercing you once again.

"Hm. Interesting. I wonder how you would react..."

Of course, Mizu was thinking about how you react to seeing her eyes. Most people would run, look horrified or disgusted. But you had proven time and time again to be... odd. Whether that was a positive or negative she had no clue yet. But she decided to take a chance. If worst came to worst, Mizu could always silence you with her blade as she had done to countless people before.

With that she takes her orange tinted glasses off, waiting for your reaction.

(A/N: LMAO SORRY Y'ALL CLIFFHANGER :p.)

[amymbona]

Pls make a blurb about Reader forcing Patrick to help build a house for calico critters made with real wood and anything and this big man with big hands is just sewing tiny curtains, it sounds tew cute 🥹

It's not you who forces him but your baby girl Eleanor who doesn't like any of the houses displayed on the website. She has this particular idea about a princess looking three storey house with flowers and hearts, having provided Patrick with multiple sketches and thorough instructions on where the furtniture must be located.

"She's gonna be the death of me, I swear. Are you sure we can't find anything like this online?" Patrick mutters in partial annoyance, that is present mainly to find his distress, because - apart from tennis - he's not used to working with his hands at all.

You have a hard time focusing, unable to tear your eyes away from the typical dad stance - feet apart, balled fists resting on his hips - a belt with all the necessary tools ha going loosely around Patrick's hips. Damn, he looks really hot.

You rub his exposed arm, glad for the summer heat that made Patrick wear one of his sleeveless tops, and you thank god that Eleanor has currently gone to the local swimming pool with Lily and the Donaldsons. At least you don't have to control your primal urges.

"Oh, don't be so fussy babe. You're gonna nail it," you coo, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The sight is a mix of both arousing and comical. Patrick's muscles flex as he cuts the wood planks with a hand saw, the motion reminding you of multiple different things. He's grunting and mumbling under his breath - Why did I agree to this? Goddamn, this is ridiculous. - eyes rolling onto the back of his head when he sees that one piece is smaller than the remaining three.

"Are you having any issues, darling?" you mock with a laugh from where you're sitting in the garden chair, legs crossed comfortably, glancing up from your book. His reaction makes you giggle.

Patrick shoots you a glance, brows furrowed, and a drop of sweat rolls down his cheek. "You wanna try it yourself, sweetheart?"

This is the peak dad performance in your eyes, with you lounging under the sun while your gorgeous husband looks absolutely stunning, sweat covered, with little insults leaving his mouth. He manages to get all the essential pieces before putting them all together, drilling screws into the wood to form the main box shape, and finally putting in the planks make for the storeys.

When the outline is finally done and painted all white, Patrick lets it dry outside and moves into the living now, now fighting with your sewing machine. Unfortunately, the little windows must have curtains.

"This is fucking devil's work. How do you even use that?" he's sitting there like a school boy about to cry over his math homework, completely lost.

You lean over him, your arms on either side of his head as you take one of the pink fabric squares. Patrick's breath hirches completely as you begin explaining the basics. "It's easy, just work slowly. First, you took the thread - yup, here - then just place it there, under the needle."

Your husband has a fucking hard time focusing on the instructions, lips parting hungrily as the soft inside of your arm brushes over his cheek. He really can't resist, pressing a few kisses to your soft skin, for which he earns a gentle slap on the back of his head.

"Focus," you command, earning a sigh in response. He really just wanted to kiss you, to feel you. "Foot on the pedal - good - it begins moving when you step on it. Just let the fabric run through the whole way, and be careful about your fingers. C'mon, try it."

It takes Patrick a few tries - okay, a bit more than just a few - but eventually, he ends up with four squares that resemble curtains at least a bit. That is, unfortunately, all he can deliver. Being a good wife, you do the rest for him, sewing little beddings for the beds, a table cloth and the two remaining curtains.

The rest of the afternoon consists of Patrick painting messy details on the wooden walls and bringing some boxes from your old home down from the attic - thank god you kept all of your Barbie house equipment - and attempting to fit the pieces into the wooden house. He steals a few mint leaves from the garden and makes tiny makeshift house flowers with them, knowing he'd have to swap those every two or three days, but whatever makes his darling daughter happy, right?

And when Eleanor comes back home, her hair damp and a thin layer of sunburn on her freckled cheeks, she can't contain her excitement.

"Daddy!" she squeaks, throwing her short arms around your husband's neck. He picks her up, literally blushing when she peppers his fave with sloppy baby kisses.

"D'you like it, princess?" he asks with excitement shining in his own eyes. He'd be really fucking disappointed if she didn't.

And she nods eagerly, immediately squirming to hop down and examine the small house thoroughly. "It's so cute daddy, they're all gonna fit rhere! The bed's too big but that's okay. They can have a sleepover!"

Later that day, when Eleanor is playing in her room and moving the animal figures into their new accomodation, you take Patrick in your arms. He seems to be exhausted, even though this whole process can't come even close to what he experiences on court, but he's more than happy to snuggle in your arms.

"She really loves it," you whispers, gently threading fingers through his curly hair. Patrick hums in response, digging his face deeper into your chest. "I'm so lucky to have such a handy husband at home. All for me."

At that, Patrick perks up, lifting himself on his elbows to hover over you, mischief glowing in his eyes. "Yeah?

You nod, humming as you begin rubbing his arms, gently squeezing the muscles that flex as Patrick's holds his weight above you. God, you could bite into that flesh. "Yeah. And he's really fucking hot as well."

"Is he?" Patrick echoes, leaning closer to nudge your nose with his own, chuckling at your smugness. You're so pretty.

And you nod again, now wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him in for a kiss. His caloused palms move under your shoulders to scoop you into him, fully settling between your legs and pushing you into the mattress. You're so warm and soft for him, a perfect pillow to rest on, cheeky and smug when you compliment him. He supposes that's good enough of a reward for his hard work.

But unfortunately, a high pitched daddy! fills the house before he could move further, and all the appetite is lost when Eleanor asks for yet another home made house.

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Hay It's Getting Cold Out

“The fuck?” Ian’s words stumbled from his lips as he walked into the apartment to find straw littering all over the kitchen floor.

Mickey’s head peeked up from behind the kitchen island and he ducked back down.

“Mickey why does our apartment look like a barn?” Ian walked over to the kitchen island and found Mickey on his knees surrounded by straw and plastic storage bins.

“I’ll clean it up.” Mickey muttered as he picked a knife up and jammed it into the bin, sawing a square into it before punching it through.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked trying not to sound accusatory but not being sure if he was succeeding.

Mickey paused and looked up at Ian, “It’s getting cold out, it's going to get colder this weekend, like below twenty degrees out.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, and we live in Chicago, this happens a lot in the fall and winter.” 

“Well, I wanted to do something for Clawdia, but everything I was looking at was super expensive. But then I found this do it yourself thing and it would only cost about ten bucks.”

“Claudia?” 

Mickey grimaced, “Clawdia, the cat that has the missing leg that hangs out around the pool in the summer.”

“You named her Clawdia?”

Mickey groaned, “Yes I named her, yes I’ve been feeding her, and no I don’t want her to get cold this winter, so I’m making her this cat house. But when I went to ordered the straw to get delivered I thought a bale was only like a pound or two, turns out it’s a fuckton. So I’m making more than one for any of Clawdia’s friends that get cold this winter and want a nice warm box.”

Ian felt his lips curve up in a smile, “That’s so s-”

“Fuck off Gallagher.” Mickey huffed sinking back down to keep sawing at the plastic bin.

“You know if you wanted a cat-”

Mickey groaned, “Fuck OFF.” 

Ian looked at the mess and shook his head, he went to the bedroom and put his phone on the charger before digging into the closet and grabbing another knife from the closet.

He came back into the kitchen and sunk onto the floor across from Mickey.

Mickey eyed him as he grabbed another one of the storage bins and stabbed the knife into the side before sawing a line into it.

Ian glanced up at Mickey and grinned as he sawed the square out of the bin and punched it through.

Together they made six cat shelters, even with each one stuffed full of hay they still had a good amount left over.

“How about we go to the hardware store and get some wood? Make a big shelter for the rest of the hay?” Ian suggested when they finished sweeping and bagging the remainder of the straw up from the kitchen floor.

“I didn’t want to make it a big project.” Mickey sighed tying the bag up and shoving it aside.

“I know, but I’m sure we can budget it enough to make it work, besides what else would we use the hay for?” Ian asked with a laugh.

Mickey smirked, “Well, there is that fantasy about doing it in the loft of a barn in the hay.”

Ian’s laugh slipped from his face and he looked at his husband sternly, “We are NOT putting that hay in our bed.”

Mickey laughed reaching up and cupping Ian’s face with his hands, “C’mon Carrot Farmer, you know you need to make sure the stable hand is doing the chores.” 

Ian let Mickey pull him into a kiss before gripping his wrists gently, “No way. Now let’s get these ones out to Clawdia before it does get cold out.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Spoil sport.”

“Well we couldn’t have done that at a better time.” Ian muttered as he looked at the picture Mickey had sent him.

Clawdia the three legged cat in one of the shelter boxes with four little puffy kittens around her.

“You know, that extra room we have would make a good nursery.” Mickey mused over the phone.

“No way.” Ian’s voice was firm, but when he looked at that photo again he felt his heart melting.

“Only Clawdia, and only her kittens. And once they’re all old enough we’re getting them all fixed.”

“Glad you’re agreeable because I already brought them inside. And since we still had that hay I took out the drawers of the dresser and put some in each.”

[leos-regression-cove]

could I maybe ask for a Cg!Frank Castle and Cg!Matt Murdock with little reader? I love them both so much and my poly heart thinks they would be such great cgs- and little me does too lol. If thats okay?

Bedtime!

CG!Frank Castle x CG!Matt Murdock x GNLittle!reader

Rating: Gen

Summary: It's bedtime for little reader so Dada Matt Murdock and Papa Frank Castle help them get ready for bed.

Word Count: 409

Warnings: confirmed romantic relationship, bottles, non-sexual un/redressing, baby/toddler reader headspace, kissing, non-sexual tickling

A/N: Sorry such a short story took so long! I watched some of the show but not the whole thing so it may not be perfect. Thank you for the request anon! This was fun to write. :D

Support me on AO3!

You laid on your tummy on the floor while Matt sat next to you. “Dada! Dis’ one! Do dis one, kay?” you asked, handing him a star shaped block. 

He ran his hands over it. “It’s not a circle… Is it a square?” he joked. 

“No!” you giggled. 

“Not a hexagon…”

“No,” you hinted again. 

“Oh! Okay, I know, now. It’s a triangle, right?!”

You erupted with laughter. “Es a star dada!” you told him. 

He smiled and put the star in the right hole of the box as your papa, Frank, stepped into the room.

“Hey kiddo, it’s bedtime,” he said in his quiet, low voice, leaning over the couch. He then came over to help dada Matt up, offering his hand to him, before picking you up, too. 

“Bed-time,” you repeated. 

“Yeah. We gotta brush your teeth, put on your pajamas,” he listed in a calming voice, hugging you to him, making you feel all warm. 

Dada usually helped you brush your teeth when you were this little, but tonight papa did, keeping you in his arms he handed you the toothbrush and timed you before giving you a stiff pat on the back to spit and rinse. 

Then, he set you down on the big bed, right in dada’s lap! “I’m gonna go make sweetpea a bottle. You’re on pajama duty,” he said to dada, before kissing him on the cheek. 

“Ew!” you squealed in mock disgust. 

“Is kissing so gross?” Matt asked with a grin. 

“Yeah!” you replied. 

He rolled up your shirt to plant kisses on your tummy, which quickly devolved into tickling you as he got your day clothes off and put your cozy, footie pajamas on. 

Then, he suddenly stopped. 

Opening your eyes, you realized he had crawled up onto his side of the bed and was about to pick you up to be put in his lap. “It sounds like Frank’s all done with your bottle,” he whispered. 

Sure enough, he was right and papa returned, shaking the bottle up as he handed it over to his husband to give you and selected a story out of your bookshelf. 

Many of them were in braille, but there were a couple that had been printed as well. He took down a simple one and started to read, petting your legs that spread across his lap.

You were half asleep so quickly. All you felt after shutting your eyes was the replacement of your bottle with your pacifier and your caregivers shifting closer to one another.