#i also set out the carrier in the living room so he knows that someone is going somewhere tomorrow...

[gastlygallows]

When your cat has a vet appointment tomorrow morning which means no more food tonight so you eat your lunch early to be hungry later in solidarity with him 🐈

[mayearies]

CATS ALIKE .. miles g. morales ⟡

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 miles g. morales x fem! reader , fluff , no disclaimer

𐦍༘⋆ SYNOPSIS; you wanted a cat. miles did not. he made this pretty clear. he ignored, dismissed, and persuaded you to stop asking for a while. however, it came back again and again and again. guess how he caved.

WC; 728

𐦍༘⋆ NOTES; old fic i wrote also test for engagement i guess

౨ৎ

he purposely avoided your eyes for a while now. a little bit too long for both of your liking. he flipped through thr channels on the tv as he held you in his lap and you kissed him all over his face, muttering the word ‘please’ without break.

miles grumbled, knowing he would cave pretty soon. he had a sweet tooth for those chocolate lips of yours. he sighed loudly, throwing his head back on the arm of the sofa before looking at you with an annoyed expression. “if i do this for you, promise me you’ll shut up about it.” you nodded in glee.

you knew how to hold your end of the bargain, just one small favor. one small thing couldnt hurt his cold and stoic soul. he took you to the nearest petshop on the block since you wanted this more than ever. a cat.

miles didn’t like the idea. he was away most nights and didnt want something there to create more of a mess than you already did of his room (he would scold you but you knew he didnt really care that much). he could think of a million reasons why this was a bad idea. the only plus was that it was cute.

“which one you want, ma?” he followed you down the isle of cages and cries of the kittens, “preferably not the ones that shed a lot.” his voice sounded uneasy and skeptical. he knew how bad you wanted this.

“relax a little. these little things are so cute, how could you not want one?” 

he crossed his arms and watched as you stuck your hands into the bars to pet each one of them, to which some would hiss and deny. “maybe because i dont like cats,” he hissed. “their fur gets everywhere.”

“i say it’s worth it,” you replied sassily to match his tone.

“of course you do.”

you saw one in particular that caught your attention. a black cat that was missing an eye. the shopkeeper said he was born that way and that nothing was wrong with him. he was adorable, just as fiesty too. it didnt let you touch it until it smelled your hand. even then it was still ready to fight. reminds you of someone else you know. “i want this one.”

“the things i do for you.”

you laughed under your breath, “you say it like it’s a bad thing.”

that night, you were so excited to play with the little guy. miles however, could care less. he didnt want much to do with it. well, it may not come off as that because he bought the most expensive bed and cat litter for it, despite it being no older than a few weeks. 

you wanted to play with it first, but where’s the fun in that? “how about, i set up the cat litter and stuff and you get to know our new friend together?” miles raised an eyebrow as he set down the carrier. “is this some typa excuse?”

“no! just spend some time with it. last thing i ask, i promise.”

miles sighed and agreed. so much for promises. he opened the cage and waited for it to crawl out, but it didn’t. the sudden change in enviornment and scent must’ve been just kicking in. he reached his finger into the cage and felt the ends of the whiskers ticking it. then, it licked him. he wasn’t taken aback by it but it felt odd.

you finished installing the cat litter box and started walking towards the living room once you heard the tv on again, “so, how’d it-“ and the last thing you thought you’d see tonight just laid in front of you. miles was watching the screen as the little furball wrapped around itself on his chest. it was purring and by the torn fabric in his hood, you could tell it was kneading him.

“well, look who got along,” miles glared at you for that as you walked over to lay down behind him. “still don’t like cats?”

he playfully scoffed and rolled his eyes, his fingers drifting and gazling along the fur of its tail. “im still wondering why you chose that name for him.”

“whats wrong with it?” 

“who names their cat ‘meows morales?’”

@ MAYEARIES ‘23

[theoceanoasis]

While on a date both Soundwave and Roddy are walking down a street after they had dinner at a restaurant. On their walk back home they hear what sounds like crying coming from an ally which sounds like a sparkling.

Wasting no time Rodimus quickly heads down the ally quickly followed by Soundwave who stays on alert just in case this a trap set by muggers. However instead of muggers they find a young sparkling hiding in a box fort while crying for their creators. Knowing he can't argue against his conjunx Soundwave allows Rodimus to scoup the bittie up and take them home, once settled Roddy gives the sparkling a bath and warm energon while Soundwave sends Ravage and Lazerbeak out to search for the bittie's parents. In the meantime Wave simply watches in awe as his conjunx cares for the bittie and simply falls in love all over again.

"That was nice."

Soundwave nodded and pulled him closer. He leaned against him enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Soundwave leaned down whispering into his audio about his plans for him once they got home.

He shivered a blush appearing on his face. However he was distracted by what sounded like crying.

"Do you hear that?"

He pulled away slightly and Soundwave frowned behind his mask.

"I hear crying."

"It could be a wild animal."

"It sounds like a sparkling."

Concerned he followed the sound ignoring Soundwave's protests.

"It could be a trap set by muggers."

Soundwave looked around wearily, scanning the alley for danger. He didn't notice. Too busy following the noise, which led to a cardboard box. Peaking inside he gasped and pulled out a crying sparkling. Soundwave also looked shocked as the little bittie whimpered.

He looked the sparkling over worried he was injured.

"Let's take him home. It's not safe out here."

Soundwave helped him stand and the two walked home. He held the sparkling close whispering soothing words which calmed the sparkling down enough that they stopped crying.

Before going back home Soundwave stopped at a small grocery store. He gave Soundwave a confused look, wondering what could be so important that he needed to stop there, right at this moment.

"I'll be right back I promise."

He reluctantly nodded holding the tired sparkling closer. They'd begun to fall asleep in his arms now that they were no longer crying.

In no time at all Soundwave left the store with formula in hand.

"We'll need this for the sparkling."

He blushed following Soundwave home. He still hasn't told him that he was a carrier and could produce his own energon.

Even though he loved Soundwave and trusted him he was still scared. He'd been trained since he was a child never to tell anyone or else he could be killed. It was hard breaking out of that mindset and every time he tried telling him he had a panic attack and found himself unable to speak. He tried not to focus on that and instead focused on the sparkling in his arms.

When they got home Soundwave made the sparkling some food and he gave him a quick bath.

"Feeling better?"

He snuggled the sparkling while walking back into he living room. He found Soundwave talking to Ravage and Laserbeak.

"Find the parents. I want to know if they are alive and if they abandoned their sparkling."

The two casseticons left and he walked over taking the warm bottle of energon.

The sparkling cooed hungrily and he smiled while feeding the little one. Noticing someone watching him he looked over to find Soundwave watching in awe. He blushed and looked back at the sparkling feeling his spark soften.

[tgmsunmontue]

Short Hangster mini-fic set post-mission on the carrier.

                He’s not asleep. Lying in his rack and trying to calm his mind. He took another life today. He’d do it again. In a heartbeat, but it doesn’t make it weigh any lighter inside his heart or mind. Doesn’t help sleep come and quiet his mind any faster. He hears the three taps on his wall and pulls back the little curtain, half-expecting Javy to be standing there, it’s not. Instead it’s Rooster, looking tired but so alive he feels a welling-up of just sheer relief that he saved his life. He did a good job today even if he had to kill someone else to do it.

                “Hey Hangman…”

                “Rooster. You allowed out of medical?”

                Rooster shrugs which Jake is going to take as a very firm no. He raises an eyebrow.

                “Mav’s snoring. Keeping me awake.”

                Jake huffs in amusement, wonders if he should get up. He can’t sit up, there’s not enough room. His three bunkmates are all fast asleep, everyone more than capable of sleeping through everything once you’ve had your first deployment on a carrier.

                “Did you want something?” Jake asks, because he will get up if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. Wants to at least pretend he’s been able to sleep tomorrow morning when everyone wakes up.

                “How do you… uh… You’ve killed someone before. And again today.”

                Jake clenches his jaw, wonders if Bradshaw is going to make fun of him for it, or tell him he did a good job or some other type of bullshit.

                “How do you deal with it? The guilt?”

                Fuck. That’s a hundred times worse than anything he could have predicted.

                “Jesus Rooster, you think I’ve got answers? There’s a reason I’m not asleep either…”

                “Oh.”

                “Yeah. Oh.”

                “You’re admitting to not knowing something? Is that a first? Do I need to mark it down as a red-letter day or something?”

                “Yeah yeah, laugh it up. But… I don’t like that I’ve had to kill someone. Two someone’s. But I’d make the same choice over and over. Every time. Deciding between saving you and Maverick and killing someone I don’t know? Easy choice. Not one I wish I had to make, but I made it, and I will live with it. And I’ll continue to make that choice, and also understand that some days I am that someone that my enemy doesn’t know…”

                “The risks of the job.”

                “Yeah. Kill or be killed. Pretty high stakes.”

                “Yeah. God.”

                “Fuck, come on. Get in here. It’ll be tight but I don’t think either of us wants to be alone right now. Plus I don’t snore and you’re definitely meant to be sleeping.”

                “We can’t both fit in a rack.”

                “We can if we’re determined and don’t need to move. Come on.”

                It’s proof that Rooster is tired and likely concussed that he simply agrees, folds himself down until he’s pressing his back against Jake’s front and he lets himself rest an arm over him, shifting his head so they can share the pillow.

                “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

                “Not like you can get out without waking me up anyway.”

                “Shh… sleep.”

                He hadn’t thought that being squished tight into his bunk, holding Rooster tight to him, would have aided his sleep at all but he wakes later to a dead arm, Rooster still firmly under his arm and held tight like he’s afraid to let him go. Blinking at him in disbelief is Javy who is silently mouthing what he suspects is what the fuck? at him. He shrugs and reaches for the curtain and pulls it closed. He could do with a bit more sleep.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Can’t remember if i already sent asks so i’ll just throw another one on the pile 😊

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

This one for small baby stresses! Also I noticed there’s no set chapter count for the buddieshannon fic, do you have an estimate of how long it’s going to be? Or is it a secret 🤔🤫?

HEY! You can send as often as you want anyway, so no worries!

And not a secret - I don't have my outline broken down by chapter for this one. So I don't have a total count. Kind of like TWATYTK. It won't be THAT long though. I know where I want to stop and things I need to happen.

48 for 🔼:

---

He needs to talk to her about it. Even if she still doesn’t want to talk. 

Eddie parks the truck behind Shannon’s car. He grabs Jane in her carseat from the back, and heads into the house. His brain is completely preoccupied with what he’s going to say to Shannon. He misses the black sedan parked on the street in front of the house. Why would he even pay attention to it? People park there all the time. 

“Hey, Shan?” He calls when he opens the front door. “We’re home!” 

He kicks off his shoes, not wanting to put down the baby carrier. There’s a weird sort of hush over the house, a staleness that wasn’t here when he left.

“Shannon?” He tries again.

She steps out of the kitchen into the living room, so he can see her. Her hair is damp and curling a little, like she didn’t blow dry it. The way she always insists on doing. Her body language is tense. Nervous. Is she angry with him?

“Eddie-”

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says. “I… Sometimes we’re just going to need-”

“Eddie.” 

He shuts his mouth as his parents step out into the living room with Shannon. His parents. His mother and father. Why… Why the hell are they here? With Shannon. Who they have never been fans of. Oh god. Poor Shannon.

“Is that our granddaughter?” His mother coos brightly.

Eddie swallows as she starts to stride across the room towards him. His father trails behind her. 

“Mom, Dad,” Eddie says. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well,” Helena says, breathily, bending over Jane’s carrier. “You never told us when we could come meet her. So we asked your

---

48 for ⚡️:

---

“Over… Over what? Are you arguing with a seven-day old?” Buck asks, bewildered. 

“No, these are future concerns,” Eddie waves it off.

Buck looks confused, but rolls with it.

When they reach the bedroom, Buck pauses in the doorway, looking at Chris sitting in the bed, holding his sister. His eyes get big and he pouts a little.

Chris looks at him.  “Oh, Buck. You’re not going to cry are you?”

Buck’s pout turns into a frown. “So what if I do? This is so cute.”

Chris sighs. “You’re both really emotional lately.”

Buck blinks and rubs his eyes. “We’re not operating at full capacity, bud.”

Chris snorts. “That’s obvious.”

🗲🗲🗲

Despite a sort of tiredness he’s never actually known until now, Buck loves having a baby. His baby. 

For one thing, she’s so flipping cute. Like, the cutest. Somehow someone let Buck and Eddie take the most beautiful baby in the world, which is insane luck, because they already had the best kid. He should start doing scratch tickets. 

On top of that, it’s insanely cool. She’s different almost every day. Growing at an exponential and fascinating rate. She starts smiling right around a month old. Just one day, out of the blue. He picks her up and she starts smiling at him. And there it is. That’s her smile. The one she’s going to have for the rest of her life, but with baby fat and no teeth. A week later, as they’re packing her up to go to Bobby’s for Thanksgiving, she makes what can only be construed as the babiest form of a laugh. Eddie nearly cries. Chris spends the drive trying to get her to do it again. Within another two weeks, she’s laughing all the time. Like everything on earth is funny. And no one makes her laugh more than Bobby. A fact that makes Buck feel warm all over. 

By Christmas, her little personality has just exploded. Obviously she doesn’t talk, but she makes so much noise. Not crying. Just… Noise. 

[fodt-omori-au]

Chapter 8- Comfort:

The move in went pretty smooth, Polly came by to help out however she could and was quite surprised at the living conditions, even moreso when she found out none of these kids attended school anymore. She knew exactly what the Hooligans were like, she'd seen them harm people with her own two eyes, but she was seeing a different side to them now.

The way they joked with each other, the laughing and smiles, the comfort they provided each other, they were a family.

And they'd welcomed Basil into that family.

Sure, she was worried how Basil would react to what the group truly did, but she was content knowing for now at least he was safe and loved by someone other than herself.

It had been years since anyone cared to stop by to check on Basil anyways.

Aubrey was the only one who actually tried to come by, she gave up after 2 years of constantly trying, but Polly knew Basil still kept every little trinket Aubrey would bring him during that time.

Kel did try to stop by a few times, but she noticed Sunny seemed to pull his attention away overtime.

She can't really blame him, the poor kid lost his sister and was probably just desperate for someone to love him.

Desperate like Basil was.

Desperate like Aubrey mustve been.

A thought rushed through her mind suddenly

Who cared for Aubrey over those first 2 years?

She grimaced at the thought, Basil had previously told her stories of how awful Aubrey's home life was. And seeing as the teens were living alone, she doesn't think her parents were around anymore. She didn't know how long Aubrey had been alone for, but she knew that it took at least 2 years for the hooligans to welcome her in. 

She shook that from her head and sighed before smiling again.

That all changed today.

These kids deserved the happiness and care of an adult and she was determined to provide that. A small voice cut her off mid thought,

"Excuse me miss.. c-could you help me quickly?" The tallest of the group, a girl with long dark brown hair and a purple sweater, stood behind her shyly. Instantly, Polly nodded and asked what she needed help with as the girl held up a carrier with a pure white rabbit inside. The rabbit seemed to be curled up peacefully as she smiled more.

"Who's this little cutie?", asked Polly as she gently pet the fluffy ball through the crate door.

"T-this is Aubrey's bunny, she named him BunBun. Where can I put him miss?", the girl's voice was barely above a whisper, an underlying stutter making her speech a bit slow. Polly led her to a corner of the much more spacious living room where there was enough area to set up an enclosure for the small animal. Before opening the crate door, she set up small black fencing her and Basil used in the garden (well, she did the gardening but Basil had built it before the incident) to keep the wild rabbits out of the flowers. 

"There, now the little guy can stretch out however much he'd like! Also, you don't have to call me miss sweetheart! You and the others can feel free to call me Polly! What's your name hun?", Polly tilted her head curiously at the tall girl and smiled softly to hopefully not seem intimidating. The girl offered a shy smile in return,

"My name is Charlie. Is there anything I can do to help you miss Polly?" She smiled more and nodded, thinking that Charlie must like to be able to help out, and led her to the kitchen as the others continued to get everything set up in the house. Once the teens had been fully moved in, Polly whispered something to Basil who nodded and then ran upstairs while his caretaker and Charlie finished up in the kitchen. The other teens sat by the couch, realizing that apart from Aubrey and Charlie, Polly didn't know any of their names. As the two came out with the cookies, and Basil brought down many blankets, Polly smiled warmly.

"You kids feel free to stay up tonight ok? I know starting to live in a brand new house can be scary, so don't hesitate to come get me if you need! Ah! Before I go, may I ask your names?", her voice was soothing and warm, the usually rambunctious teens feeling at ease and relaxed as they all gave their names. Polly noticed when Kim went to speak, Aubrey gave her hand a small squeeze and a smile formed on Kim's face. She brushed that aside for now and gave the kids the treats, making sure to compliment Charlie for all her help (which the young girl both appreciated and was a bit embarrassed by). 

Hours past as the teens watched a bunch of old movies that Basil had collected over the years, a surprising amount being horror movies. All of them were huddled under blankets together. Vance motioned to Basil to take a photo (he had shown them the old photo album he had of when he and Aubrey were children) as Kim and Aubrey had fallen asleep holding hands, Kim's head leaned on Aubrey's shoulder and Aubrey's head leaned on top of Kim's. The others took notice as well, Angel going to speak but being quietly hushed by The Maverick to not risk waking the two.

Aubrey awoke once again in headspace, although it had shifted. Mari still stood waiting by the door, but not nearly as overwhelming as before. She had a soft smile on her face, her hand reaching out and caressing Aubrey's cheek lovingly.

"You came back for him. You forgave Basil. I'm so proud of you Aubrey."

[musyroom599]

Hey guys at the end of the chapter there's a IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.

Lost kitten p8

You where in a cat carrier or at least that's what eraserhead called it. Apparently he was dropping you off at hizashi's house for the weekend.

Apparently he had some important hero stuff to attend to in another city and Eri would be staying with someone named Mirio.

Eraserhead picked up the cat carrier as he got out of his car and walked towards a town house. He walked towards the town house and knocked on the door.

The loud man known as Hizashi opened the door. "Sho Hey! Long time no see!" The blonde says excitedly and eraserhead sighs.

"we saw each other like two hours ago", Eraserhead rolls his eyes as he walks into the town house.

"still to long to be apart from my best friend!!" The blonde playfully hits eraserhead on the back and you hiss violently.

"hey it's okay calm down" eraser head says sitting down the cat carrier on the floor and opening the cage door.

You glare at Hizashi as you jump into eraserheads arms. "You'll be staying with Hizashi for the next three days. And I need you to behave okay?" He says not expecting a response.

After eraserhead give about a thirty minute long run down on how to take care of you he walks out the door.

Leaving you and Hizashi alone. You both stare at each other and Hizashi smiles. "Well it's just me and you kitty" he smiles and goes to pet you.

You back up and hiss slightly. "Okay okay I get it you don't like me but I'm sure we can get to know each other."

And that's how your three day long turture started.

--★day 1★--

you woke up to an obnoxious alarm blaring from hizashi's room. if you weren't trying to hide your human form you'd hit Hizashi for having an obnoxious alarm.

Luckily for you Eraserhead didn't need an alarm and just got up the same time every day. And if he didn't you had his back.

You sit on hizashi's couch and watch him come out of his room wall across his room and into his bathroom. You continuously watch him as he goes about his morning routine.

After about ten minutes of him getting dressed and all that human junk. He walks into the living room and almost screams when he sees you.

"omg I am so sorry I forgot you where my temporary roommate." He laughs slightly and you continue to glare at him.

Hizashi sets down your water and food bowl and your water bowl. And pauses before putting anything in them.

"how much did sho say to give you for breakfast?" He looks at you then at the food and water bowl.

You internally roll your eyes and hope on top of the counter. And you pick up the half a cup of scoop and hand it to him.

He looks at you suspiciously. "Did you just understand me?" he questions and you start getting nervous.

"guess cats are smarter then I thought" he laughs and fills your food and water bowl.

You stare at him wondering if he was joking or if he knew and was now telling you or what the heck just happened

After a while he leaves for his pro hero work you decide to do some snooping.

You shift into your human form and shake off and walk around. You go into his room and look around.

You see a picture of what seems to be Hizashi and eraserhead they where younger but what is strange to you is there's a blue haired boy also in the picture.

You look at the picture curiously. "Who come Eraserhead never told me about this boy...I want to meet him..I hopes he's not as loud as Hizashi." You smile to yourself and continue your search.

You find nothing of significance. And plop down on his couch. You shift to your human form and fall asleep in the sunlight.

A while later you wake to Hizashi coming in the door. You stare at him as he pours some cat food into your dish and fills your water bowl.

He goes into his room and let down his hair and changes into a band tee and jeans.

He comes out and sits on the couch watching TV. Around this time you Eraserhead and sometimes Eri would watch TV and cuddle. And you personally didn't want ruin your schedule.

You hopped into hizashi's lap and curled into a ball. "Kitty what are you doing?" Hizashi chuckles a bit as he scratches right behind your ear.

You start purring and head but his hand wanting more pets. And he gives in and pets you more.

__★day 2★__

Not much of anything different happened in the morning expect Hizashi slept through his alarm clock which was annoying cuz you had to wake him up to turn it off.

Apparently Hizashi had a talkshow or something that he runs. And he apparently was supposed to do that today and he brought you along as your 'special guest'.

Most of the time was mostly him talking to random people he didn't know one the phone and at one point he had you answer a call which didn't go well.

When he brought you home for the day he texted Eraserhead telling him about the fact you mad an appearance on his podcast.

After Hizashi texted him that they had a long talk over the phone about Hizashi asking for eraserheads permission before dragging me into his junk.

__★ day 3__

The last day of this little adventure and you where happy about it. Not that you disliked Hizashi. Or you didn't anymore he was nice and okay. But you wanted to get back to your peaceful life with eraserhead.

After Hizashi left for work which he strangely didn't but on a hero custom to do you went and layed down on his bed in your human form.

You hear something move from the door way to hizashi's room and you look up to see him standing there confused but ready to fight.

"who are you what are you doing in my house and where's kitty!" He yells all these questions that it makes your head hurt.

"I..um.. potato?" You curse yourself eternally for saying the first thing that came to your head.

"potato? That's the best you got?" Hizashi questions and you sigh.

"um I can answer your questions..but please don't get made..mad whatever you do don't tell eraserhead!" You feel panic rising in your chest.

"why would I tell sho that some random lady with cat ear and a cat....." He pauses and seems to connect all the dots in his mind.

"....you kitty!?!" He yells surprised and stunned. Your breath quickens and tears fall from your eyes afraid he was going to be mad and hit you like your last owners.

"are you crying?.. don't cry" Hizashi cups your face in his hands and smiles.

"I'm not mad just... confused." He sighs.

After you stop crying you sit down and explain everything to Hizashi.

"so even sho dosn't know about this?" You nod. "Please don't tell him." You look down. "Okay but..do you plan on keeping this a secret forever?" He waits patiently for your response and you sigh.

"well...that was the plan." You sigh nervously.

"Hmm.. I don't think that's going to work." He chuckles slightly.

"please I'll tell him eventually but ....just for now can you keep my secret?" You look at him with pleading eyes.

"fine but you gotta tell sho eventually." He says smiling.

"thank you so much...also I have a question..what is earserheads name?...cuz a police officer called him Eraserhead and you call him sho...but Eri calls him dad...but i think the last one is just a title. He just laughs at the question.

"his real names shota but my nickname for him is sho. And eraserhead is his hero name."

You sit there stunned and look. Back up at him. "...oh...thats complicated" Hizashi just laughs.

After that you guys hang out like normal people which is nice for you. You'd never had a normal human interaction and it was amazing. You ever got to eat pizza!

You eventually fell asleep which caused you to turn back into your cat form.

When you woke up it was to shota's gruff gentle voice. "kitty it's time to go" he says quietly why he pets you.

He stands up picking you up and grabbing a duffle bag with your stuff in it.

Before you guys leave you hop out of shota's arms and rub against hizashi's legs happily.

"looks like guys are on friendly terms now" shota remarks and you hop back into his arms purring.

You guys head home and soon shota leaves to pick up Eri.

___♥️___

Important announcement

Hey guys sorry I haven't been posting but I got Wattpad and I'v been posting on there so I've been debating on posting lost kitten on there. It would be a lot more..formal?....or well written I suppose.

But my account on there is mushyroom599 the same name it is on here 🙄 (i like the name)

Anyway I'd still post lost kitten on here but not as often and it's be better written out on Wattpad. I don't know if I am going to do that or not but you guys get to help me decide. (No guarantee I'll go exactly by the results but whatever

(also in the Wattpad version there will probably be some language but it'll be more detailed and better in my opinio)

So go check out my wattpad...if you want

[ophelia-jones]

September 2009

(6 months before the discovery of the wildfire Virus)

It was a rare and momentous occasion; Adalia had the evening off and all to herself. She had a long luxurious bath, now she was about to sit in front of the tv and watch whatever the hell she wanted. She was scrolling her options when her phone buzzed. She picked the phone up to check the text, and when she saw it her body reacted like a teenager meeting their favorite member of a boy band.

DD: You working?

Adalia smiled and bit her lip. No, she wasn't working but for Daryl, she'd stop in on her night off.

A: Nope, night off. I might stop in there later.

She tried not to stare at the phone. She didn't do well.

DD: you live close?

Was he thinking of coming here? No, Adalia told herself. He's just going to say she shouldn't come in if it were an inconvenience.

A: About a mile and a half, right down the same road the bar is on.

DD: Which direction?

Holy shit. Adalia began to panic, looking around at the place in horror. As much as she wanted the chance to share a bed with Daryl, she was also not proud of the run-down modular home she was renting. In the end, the desire to see him won out.

A: East

Waiting this time was absolute torture. She was ready to spring if he said he was coming over, but she didn't want to go to the trouble of donning lingerie just to be disappointed.

DD: headed that way on foot

Adalia sprung up and dashed into her room, frantically searching for something sexy to put on. In the end, she found a pretty lemon-yellow lace thong and bra set she'd bought to celebrate her freedom from her ex. She'd never worn it before.

Over that, she put on a black tank top and then slid into her Daisy Duke jean shorts, which she never wore in public. She put on a little makeup and brushed out her hair, then went to sit on the steps to her front door. She lit a cigarette and tried not to stare in the direction of the bar.

When she saw him, that walk of his - no one else walked like that - her mouth reflexively smiled. She kept her head pointed forward and took the opportunity to stare at him from the corners of her eyes.

He was just all-around trouble - he might as well have a sign over his head that said as much. But that was what she liked, wasn't it? That was how she'd ended up in the middle of nowhere redneck Georgia in the first place, hiding from an abusive husband. She didn't even dare serve him with divorce papers for fear he'd find out where they were.

"You probably shouldn't invite men you barely know into your house," Daryl told her with a smile as he approached the driveway. Even the way the damned gravel sounded under his motorcycle boots turned her on. He carried a six-pack in one hand and held a lit cigarette in the other.

"Chere, everyone is a stranger - some you've just known longer than others," she told him, releasing a long smokey breath and stunning out her cigarette.

"Alright, Confucius," he laughed. He pinched the cigarette between his lips and pulled a beer out of its cardboard carrier, twisted the top off, and handed it to her. Adalia accepted it with a smile.

"You're already drunk as a skunk, Shug," she told him. It made more sense now, that he had been so bold as to invite himself to her house.

"Shove over," Daryl said, nudging Adalia to the edge of the step so he could sit beside her. "And yeah, I got shit-faced waiting for you to show up at the bar," he admitted with a chuckle.

"You forget you had my number?" she asked, soaking up the heat that radiated from him.

"Naw, but we didn't know we were gonna end up here today. Just kinda happened," he told her, stubbing his cigarette out with the toe of his boot. He took her by surprise then, turning to face her and kissing her. It wasn't a lusty, heated kiss - which was the only kind she had ever shared with him - but a soft slow kiss, lips barely parted. The kind of kiss you share with someone dear to you.

"Well, what good fortune brought you this way?" she asked, trying not to let her voice shake after that kiss.

"Demolition job nearby. It's damned dirty work, but it's good money. Some friends of Merle's own construction business, took on too much. Sometimes they throw us a job like this," he replied, opening his beer and taking a long drink. She smiled and sipped at hers. Drunk Daryl was far chattier than any side of him she had seen before.

"Oh yeah? That means you'll be sticking around for a bit?" she asked, trying her best not to sound too interested.

"Yeah, at least a week or two," he replied, nodding his head and turning to look at her. His blue eyes searched her face and she looked right back at him, her breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say so she simply nodded her head at him, slapping away a mosquito from her shoulder. Daryl stared at her a little longer before looking down at his hands with that shy smile of his.

"Want to come in? Get away from the mosquitos?" Adalia offered, and Daryl grunted his agreement, letting her lead the way. "It's not much," she said.

"Better'n what I got," Daryl told her sincerely. She smiled when she felt his arm snake around her waist. They were in more familiar territory now. He brushed her hair aside with one hand while holding her right against himself with the other. He began to trace a line along the side of her neck with the tip of his tongue, up to her earlobe. She shivered and he nipped her earlobe between his teeth before kissing back down her neck to where it curved into her shoulder, and he bit her hard enough to take her knees out from under her and elicit a surprised yelp.

He chuckled against her skin as he went back to sucking on her neck like a teenager. He was going to leave hickies behind this time but fuck it felt good. When he bit her again she moaned, sparks shooting throughout her body from the wounded skin.

Daryl's other hand cupped her ass, holding the curve of bare skin that showed, then his hand was between her legs, finding the seam and applying pressure to it until she rocked her hips into the sensation.

"You got a bed, Adalia?" he murmured in her ear. Was this the first time he'd spoken her name? It sure seemed like she'd remember the way hearing his voice around her name made her feel.

"No, I sleep in the bathtub," she replied.

"Alright, smartass," he slid of his big hands up under her tank top to squeeze her breasts, finding her nipples and teasing them with his thumbs. "Which door?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder, his cheek pressed to hers.

"That one there," she pointed to her bedroom. Before she had the word 'there' spoken, Daryl bent and took her legs out from under her and picked her up over his shoulders in a fireman's hold.

"Daryl Dixon, you're gonna kill me! You are too drunk to carry my fat ass!" she laughed. She was still laughing as he turned and fell back against the bed. He sat up and looked down at her disbelievingly.

"Why'd you say that?" he demanded, suddenly serious.

"Say what?" Adalia asked, genuinely confused.

"Don't call yourself names," he slurred. He lay one hand on her stomach, and looked at her in a way only a drunken person can - somehow earnest and full of compassion. "You're the sexiest woman I know."

"Where the hell did they make you, Daryl?" she said, stroking his cheek. "Because you're made from different stuff than any man I have ever known."

Daryl caught her hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm. Then he looked up at her without lifting his head. Daryl the kid was back. He was SO drunk, Adalia thought. Maybe she'd get away with saying that sort of thing if he was drunk enough to forget it.

Then he licked the palm of her hand with the width of his big tongue, causing a fit of giggles as did. He smiled at her and lay down beside her, kissing her slowly again.

"I gotta idea," he whispered in her ear as if it were a secret, wobbling a bit on his elbows.

"What?" Adalia whispered back.

"I think I should fuck you now," he told her, kissing along her neck again. She gasped again when he bit her, but she loved it. Daryl tugged at her shirt until Adalia sat and let him slide it off over her head.

"Damn, girl," he growled as he saw the all lace bra that clung to her generous bust. He ran his hands down from her shoulders, stopping on her breasts for a long moment and then moving down her stomach, out over her hips and then under the outsides of her thighs. He lifted her left leg and began to suck, lick and bite at it, working his way up to the tiny bit of denim that cover her eager pussy. Then he lifted the other leg and did the same. This time when he reached the denim he opened his mouth wide and bit her cunt through the jeans. It didn't come close to hurting her but it did make all the muscles inside her pussy clench pleasantly as she reacted to the bite. She bellowed with laughter and devolved into a fit of giggles. Daryl was smiling happily, too, as he sat up to slide his t-shirt off then the reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his pocket knife.

"This one seems like an awful shame to cut up…" he told her as he moved toward her bra strap.

"No you don't!" she told him, reaching to the back of the pretty lingerie and releasing herself from it's hold. She slid the shoulder straps off and tossed it aside. Daryl flung his pocket knife as well, and set to massaging and kissing her breasts. Then he licked down along her belly, opened her shorts and yanked them down. He got them to her knees where they twisted and wouldn't budge. After tugging on it twice he started looking away to where he'd tossed his knife earlier.

"Where's mah knife?" he slurred, and Adalia once again finished the task herself, no pocket knife required.

"Here shug, you lay down baby," Adalia guided Daryl onto his back and started sliding his pants off. He pushed himself up onto his elbows to watch her, so as she climbed back onto the bed on all fours she made it a show worth watching. Daryl had his cock in hand, stroking slowly as he watched her. Adalia paused and sucked just the tip into her mouth and released it before moving to straddle him.

Daryl growled at her teasing, but moaned as he watched her use her fingers to get herself ready.

"Don't get too excited yet," she told him, I need you to hold out… a… little… longer… fuck you feel good!" she told Daryl as she lowered herself onto him until their wasn't a millimeter left to see between them.

"You're really fucking good at that," Daryl slurred. His eyes couldn't decide where to look, her face as she began to ride him slowly - she bit her lip and looked down on him with those green eyes of hers; but he did love her tits, he lowered his eyes to them as Adalia took both of his hands in hers. Their fingers interlocked and made their bodies a complete circuit. She used his hands to help her stay upright and have the right leverage to keep them locked in this perfect position.

Then Daryl lowered his eyes to where their bodies were joined and bucked up against her as she lowered herself - earning a cry of pleasure as he did. So he did it again, and again, his breath loud and fast with effort. He grunted and groaned and strained to keep it up.

"That good?" he asked breathlessly.

"Fuck yes!" Adalia managed to reply. "Don't stop, don't stop, just like that, please…" she ran her words together until it sounded like one long word. Her head moved from side to side, her face flush and drawn with concentration. Then she settled against the length of him again and cried out his name as she came around him.

"ah, Jesus…" Daryl gasped, his shoulders lifting off the bed and his mouth open in the throes of his orgasm. Adalia moved over to lie beside him. He turned to smile at her and grace her with one more of those kisses.

"I'm going to get you some water and aspirin," Adalia told him once the afterglow began to wear off. "You'll thank me in the morning." By the time she returned, however, Daryl was sound asleep.

She sat the pills and the glass on the nightstand and climbed back into bed. She was rewarded for the decision to join him again when he wrapped an arm around her and drew her close. Adalia lay there with her ear against his heart and was lulled to sleep herself.

Daryl woke first in the morning, slipping out of bed quietly so he didn't disturb her. He spotted the aspirin and water and downed them gratefully. Once he'd pulled his wrinkled clothes on he stumbled to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen for something more to drink that might ease his headache.

He was drinking orange juice from the carton when the side door swung open and a young boy, followed by a younger girl who could only be his sister, entered noisily. They were both dark-haired and attractive like their mother.

"Who the fuck are you?" the young man bellowed, dropping the duffel bag he had been carrying and rushing up to Daryl with his chest puffed up, ready to throw hands.

"Remy! Stop!" Adalia's voice came from her room, and Remy took one step back but continued to give Daryl the evil eye.

"Mom?" the girl called out, full of trepidation. Daryl stared the boy down; if he looked away the kid might go for a sucker punch.

"What are you two doing home so early?" Adalia asked, smoothing her hair down nervously.

"It's noon, just like we planned," Remy told her dryly.

"Don't be a smartass to your mom," Daryl snapped.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" the young man took a swing, which Daryl easily ducked. Adalia put herself between the two of them.

"He's my friend, and you are acting like your father!" Adalia scolded the boy. He looked abashed by her shaming and turned away but did not apologize.

"I'm Jenna," the thirteen year old girl said awkwardly to break the tension. It was one of the first things she'd learned in her home back in New Orleans. How to break thick tensions between the adults.

"Daryl," he replied, nodding at the kid.

"You two make yourself some lunch or something, ok?" and she went back into her room, with Daryl right behind her.

"You have kids," he said.

"I know," she tried to laugh off the fact that she hadn't told him about them.

"You ever plan on mentioning them?" he asked as he found his socks and pocket knife on her floor.

"Well, in the middle of sex is not really the place I would choose to mention my children," she replied defensively. He stood silently starting for a long moment before nodding as if deciding this was an acceptable reason.

"Right," he said, back to the Daryl she was most familiar with.

"Where do you need to go? I've got the car back now, I can drive you," she told him.

"Just back to the bar. I left my bike there," he told her.

"Good choice," she quipped. He smiled sheepishly. As they walked back through the house, Remy could be heard talking to a friend in his phone.

"Dude it's so fucked up to have to see your mom do the walk of shame," he said. , When they turned to frown at him, the boy met Daryl's eyes, daring him to try and do something about it. Adalia took Daryl's hand in hers and led him outside quickly. Once they were in the car, Daryl lit two cigarettes and handed her one.

"Thanks, shug," she said. They smoked silently for the short drive. Once they arrived at the bar, Daryl got out and closed the door behind himself.

"Well, I'll never see him again," Adalia thought, closing her eyes. Then she heard his knuckles rap against her window. She rolled it down, and he leaned against the door, his arms holding his weight up.

"I saw there was some things that needed doing around your place," he said coolly. "I'll come by in a few days, see what I can get done for you."

Adalia still could not form words when he covered her mouth with a quick kiss before turning and heading over to his motorcycle. What the hell just happened? She sat in the parking lot trying to make sense of it all. How did they go from being practically strangers - just ships in the night - to him kissing her goodbye and volunteering to help repair her house?

Oh my God, was Daryl Dixon her boyfriend?

[mango-bango-bby]

As someone that wants kids, having someone as Kirishima as a baby daddy would be a dream (big protector himbo). I can see him painting the babys room and is like the 2 month. If you not bussy, you may writte that please?

♡ Nursery ♡

(A/N: I’ve had such baby fever recently so this came in at the right time!! I definitely see Eijiro as a girl dad like I think he would only have daughters 🤔🤔 Anyways I totally understand what you mean, I hope you like this!!)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, pregnancy, babies, stalking, possible manipulation, just fluff 💖

Summary: Eijiro paints the nursery for the baby while insisting you rest (Yan!Kirishima x AFAB!Reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Eijiro was an incredibly caring person, you knew this. So it really should be no surprise to you that he refused to let you do anything while you were pregnant. He just needed to do everything for you!

Even if you were only three months pregnant. Really, the only things you could feel were some slight muscle pain and you were slightly more hungry than usual. However he treated you like glass and like you would give birth any minute.

“But what if she grows up and doesn’t like the color, baby?” Eijiro worries looking at the half finished wall. You two had picked out a light pink color for the walls of the nursery. You two had also recently found out the sex of your baby, finding out you were having a girl. “Well, then we’ll just repaint it if she doesn’t like it” You say, currently sitting in the rocking chair he had already set up.

Even though you were three months pregnant, Eijiro insisted you two started in the nursery now. Even if it was incredibly early.

“Oh! And I was thinking I should get us a baby carrier so I can carry her with me everywhere” Eijiro says, not seeing the way you smile. Honestly you were a little worried, it was quite early on in you twos relationship even if he acted like he knew you for so so long. Unknown to you he kind of had known you for a while, having stalked you.

You were nervous but you knew Eijiro was going to be a good father. “That could be nice, I was also wondering if you were thinking of a white crib or a brown crib” you ask flipping through the magazine you hold that is full of different baby products. “Sweetie, definitely a white crib” he says dramatically pausing as if he was offended you didn’t know which he’d prefer.

Eijiro could not be happier that you’re pregnant. It’s exactly what he wanted with you. You were his, you loved him back. You two would live the life he only fantasied about living with you.

You two will get married, in the spring time preferably, after you first child. You two would have three children at the maximum as well as a dog. Then you two live out your lives with him providing for you and loving you like you deserve!

Eijiro wanted you for so long so it’s no surprise that every time he looked at you, with your pregnancy slightly visible wearing his sweatshirt that was to big for you, that you took his breath away.

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” You ask, giggling slightly at the lovesick look on his face.

“Nothing, you’re just so pretty~”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[dccomicsimagines]

Baby’s First Christmas - Batfamily Imagine

Warning - Babies and mention of breastfeeding

Requested by Anon -  Saw that requests were open and I thought of a cute batfam imagine. Reader is a single mom with a newborn baby girl and surprises the boys by coming home for Christmas and Alfred helped decorate the living room and reader helped cook and basically spend her baby's first Christmas with her family and Bruce and the boys get all emotional or something💝 also Happy Christmas!🥰

Author’s Note - This request came in on Christmas Day, so I thought I’d squeeze it in. Sorry, it’s late.

***

Alfred smiled, watching the boys and Cass set up the living room for the holidays. He didn’t get to decorating himself this year, but it was a good activity to keep the rest of the family busy and out of the kitchen while he prepared Christmas Eve dinner. 

When he passed Bruce’s office, he paused to see Bruce inside with his face in his hands. He was holding the photo of you and your newborn baby girl that you had posted on social media a few days ago. It was a joyous occasion, the birth of his first grandchild. Of course instead of being happy, Bruce chose to sulk at the fact he didn’t even know you were pregnant. He also started investigating to find out who the father was when he found out you were going to be a single mother. 

Alfred shook his head and kept walking toward the kitchen. He hoped Master Bruce didn’t ruin this new peace between you and the family. The phone rang once he was inside the kitchen. He picked it up quickly, smiling as he knew who it was. “Hello, Wayne residence?” 

“Alfred, it’s me.” He smiled at the sound of your voice. “I was wondering if you could send someone to get us. My car broke down and now we’re at a gas station where we got towed to.” You sighed. Alfred frowned at the strain in your voice. “I know me showing up was supposed to be surprise, but I...well...I can’t really afford a ride there.” 

“Of course, Miss (Y/N). What is the address?” He picked up a pen, writing it down as you told him. “Are you in a warm and safe place?”

The baby fussed softly on your end. “Yeah, we’re fine. I’m inside the gas station with a cup of hot chocolate.” You laughed softly. “Thank you, Alfred. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, Miss (Y/N). I’ll have one of the boys there soon.” He hung up the phone and left the kitchen to go the the main family room. The tree was up, and most were decorating the tree. Jason was sitting on the couch, watching them. Alfred smiled, coming over to place a hand on Jason’s shoulder. Jason tensed, sensing he was just volunteered for something. “Master Jason, come with me please.”

The others laughed. “Shut up.” Jason growled, getting to his feet and following Alfred out of the room. “What’s up, Alfie? Need my help in the kitchen?”

“No, Master Jason.” Alfred handed Jason the address. “Take one of the cars, go to this address and pick up something for me.”

Jason frowned, eyeing the address. “Okay? Can I take any car?”

“Anything is fine. Be back in an hour at the most.” Alfred shooed Jason away. “Call me if you have any questions.” 

“Right.” Jason left. Alfred smiled before going into the kitchen. They’ll still be surprised, even if it wasn’t the way you and he originally planned.

***

Jason pulled into the gas station. He checked his phone on the dashboard. The address was right, but what did Alfred need from a gas station?

He parked the Audi in one of the parking spots outside and grabbed his phone. Frowning, he got out to look around.

“Jason?” He tensed, spinning to find you standing in the doorway of the gas station with a big smile on your face. “Hi.”

“(Y/N)?” A wave of pure joy washed over him as he ran to hug you. He spun you around, making you laugh. “Why are you here? Where’s my niece?”

“She’s inside.” You sighed once he set you down. “I was coming today as a surprise, but then my car broke down and we got stuck here.” He led you back inside when you shivered. Your baby was in her carrier, still fast asleep on the table you were sitting at while you waited. 

Jason peeked inside at her. “Look at you, princess.” He whispered softly, touching her cheek. She turned her head, opening her mouth to try to find something to suck on. He chuckled. “She’s beautiful, (Y/N).”

“Thank you.” You glanced between them, sneaking a photo of the two with your phone. 

Jason pulled himself away from her. “Give me your keys. I’ll move your stuff into my car while you two stay in here and keep warm.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, handing him your keys when he didn’t relent. “Thanks Jay. I honestly had no idea what we were going to do.”

“I got this.” He kissed your cheek. “I’ll come get you when I’m ready.” Jason was about to head out when you grab his hand. He turned to look, noting the panic, strained look in your eye. He knew that look well. “What?”

“There’s going to be a lot of stuff.” You blushed, your eyes on his forehead. “Just don’t judge me, okay?”

Jason snorted. “I’d never judge you.” He leaned over to kiss your cheek, squeezed your arm with his hand. “I got you now. Everything will be fine.”

“Thanks Jay.” You relaxed slightly. Jason led you over to take a seat before heading out to your car. It was an old, rusted piece of crap. He wondered how you even got this far in it. Inside was suitcases, boxes, and garbage bags. He sensed you coming for the holidays might be more than just a visit. Taking a deep breath, Jason pushed aside his curiosity and began to move your things into the Audi.

***

“Al, did you throw Jason out or something? I can’t find him,” Tim asked, poking his head into the kitchen. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the delicious smells from inside. 

“Master Jason is running an errand for me.” Alfred basted the turkey again and closed the oven. “He should be back in the next half an hour or so.” 

Tim hummed, stepping inside the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, taking a carrot from the serving tray Alfred had out for them to snack on. “Bruce is still brooding.”

“He’ll snap out of it soon.” Alfred smiled when his back was turned to Tim. 

“I don’t know if he will. He’s bothered by the fact (Y/N) had a baby by herself on top of trying to live on her own. I’m worried about her too.” Tim munched on another carrot. “I kept tabs on her. Her finances are in shambles.”

Alfred’s mouth went dry. Suddenly, it made sense. Maybe that’s why you reached out after three years of almost silence? Desperation. “Well, I imagine we’ll have to see for ourselves after the holidays.”

“I’m worried about the baby too. Bruce paid off her hospital bills, didn’t he? I heard he sent the hospital a check when he saw the photo on (Y/N)’s Instagram.” Tim took yet another carrot. Alfred turned. Tim had a furrow in his brow. “I’m scared for her, Alfred. It’s hard to be a single mother especially now days.”

Alfred reached over to pat Tim’s hand. “We’ll help her as much as we can.” He smiled when he heard Jason shouting that he was home with a Christmas present for everyone. “I believe Master Jason is home.” 

Tim grinned, getting to his feet and jogging out of the room. Alfred paused to wash his hands. He frowned slightly as he wondered if what Tim had said was true. The few emails and calls you made to him over the years did sound like you were struggling slightly. Troublesome living situations, having multiple jobs at the same time. He did send you money a few times as well especially when you found out you were pregnant.  

Alfred dried his hands and followed the noise to the main entryway. You were being hugged by Dick while Jason held your baby. Cass and Tim were peeking at her, cooing softly. Damian stood back with a scowl. “Miss (Y/N), I’m glad you made it.” Alfred opened his arms for you. Dick let you go and you ran to Alfred.

“I’m so happy to see you.” You held him tight, hiding your face in his shoulder like you used to do when you were younger. “Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome, Miss (Y/N), but you don’t need to thank us.” Alfred rubbed your back, feeling his shoulder dampen from your tears. “Collect yourself, Miss (Y/N).”

You sniffled, pulling away from him to wipe a few tears with your sleeve. “Sorry.” You smiled. “Do you want to meet your great-granddaughter?” You turned, taking your baby from Jason. The others followed you, still waiting to get a good look at her. Alfred took the baby into his arms, sighing at how beautiful she was. 

“She looks so much like you, Miss (Y/N).” Alfred chuckled, rocking her gently.

“TT, she’s a Wayne. Of course, she looks like her.” Damian crossed his arms. You blinked at him before ruffling Damian’s hair. He gasped, batting your hand away. However, a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. 

The baby slowly opened her eyes. Alfred smiled, seeing how beautiful they were. A little hand came out of the blanket she was wrapped in. Perfect little fingers and delicate fingernails. “Is Dad here?” you asked, wringing your hands.

“He’s in the study, brooding.” Dick chuckled, nudging your side as Cass gave you a hug. “You should probably go let him know you’re here. Otherwise, he’ll never come out.” 

“Cool.” You bit your lip. 

“I’ll watch over your daughter. Go talk to Master Bruce.” Alfred smiled, knowing you would be the only one to get Bruce out of the office and to join the rest of the family. 

“Thanks Alfred.” You shared a look with your siblings. “If I’m not out in twenty minutes, send Titus to save me.” You winked at Damian before slipping out of the room.

“May I?” Cass held out her arms for the baby. Alfred smiled and handed her over. Cass gasped at her niece. cooing at her softly. Alfred glanced toward the direction you went, hoping your conversation with Bruce would go well.

***

You knocked on Bruce’s office door. Nerves ate at your stomach. Shame made you feel hollow inside. You never planned to have to come back to your father like this, but life happened. 

“I’m not in the mood to be lectured, Alfred,” Bruce said inside. 

You smiled sadly before opening the door. “It’s not Alfred.” You almost laughed when Bruce fell out of his chair at the sight of you. The one and only time you surprised him. “Hi Dad.”

“(Y/N).” Bruce got to his feet, staring at you in disbelief and worry. “How...why are you here?”

You bit your lip. Your heart pounded like a jackhammer. “I came for Christmas. Alfred said I’m always invited and I figured I should since I wanted everyone to meet my daughter.” You swallowed the rest of the reason. The fact you needed money and you were homeless. That you wanted your daughter’s first Christmas to be somewhere warm and safe with people that loved her.

Bruce’s lips twitched. You tensed, knowing you probably didn’t hide it as well as you thought. “I’m glad you’re here.” He slowly came to you, opening his arms. You felt a tear slid down your cheek as you ran into his arms. He hugged you tight and for the first time in a long time, you felt secure. 

A sob slipped out of you. You buried your face in his shoulder. Bruce rubbed your back, humming to soothe you. “You’re okay. I’m here now,” he mumbled, rocking you gently. 

“I’m so sorry.” You gasped, letting out all the stress and tears you held in for so long. “I didn’t mean what I said when I ran away.”

“I know.” Bruce kissed the top of your head. You sobbed hard, your entire body shaking. “I’m proud of you. You made your way on your own like you swore to me you would.”

A lump formed in your throat. “No, I didn’t.” You sniffled, looking up at you as you felt another wave of tears come. “I had to work three different jobs just to stay in a small room in a house with five roommates. Even then, I was barely making it. Then I made a mistake and got pregnant. They kicked me out of the house after she was born and I had to live in my car.” You pulled away from him to rub your eyes with your sleeves. “Then when I came here, my car broke down and I was so scared that someone would find out and take my baby away.”

Bruce blinked. “We’ll figure that out now.” He took your hand and led you to sit down on the couch. “You’re not in this alone, (Y/N). You never were.”

“I said I didn’t need you. That I wished you weren’t my father,” you coughed, choking slightly on your tears. “How could I dare come back to ask for something?”

Bruce hummed as he handed you a tissue. “Sweetheart, did you honestly think I wouldn’t help you? I’ve kept tabs on you, even paid off your hospital bill.” You flinched in surprise. Now it made sense why they haven’t called you about your first payment yet. A weight lifted off your back at the thought.

A loud cry came from somewhere in the house. You got to your feet. “I think she’s hungry. I better go.” Bruce stood with you. 

“I’ll come with you. I’d like to meet my first grandchild.” He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You can stay here as long as you like, (Y/N). We have more than enough room.”

Fresh tears came to your eyes. Your hormones were still out of whack. “Thanks Dad.” The two of you left to follow the sound of your daughter’s cry. 

***

“(Y/N), your stocking is still in here too,” Tim said, holding up the stocking you had since you were little. You smiled as you adjusted your daughter under the breastfeeding cover. The whole family was in the living room, snacking on cookies and veggies. Bruce sat on the couch with you, waiting for your daughter to finish eating so he could hold her again. 

“Wow, I guess Alfred never did throw things away.” You laughed. Tim hung up your stocking on the mantle with the rest of the family’s. 

Alfred clicked his tongue. “I guess we’re missing one member of the family now.” He reached into a bag and removed a brand new stocking with your daughter’s name on it. You gasped, tears filling your eyes again.

“Aww, thank you, Alfred.” You swallowed hard, glancing down at your daughter. She fell asleep with your nipple in her mouth. You moved her gently out from the cover and handed her to Bruce while you covered yourself.

“Cute.” Cass took it and hung it up with the rest. “Whole family.” 

You smiled, glancing at Bruce to see him cooing softly to your daughter as he rocked her. Alfred secretly took a picture. You knew you would find it framed somewhere. “Alfred, can I help in the kitchen?” you asked when you saw him hand the camera to Tim to take more secretive pictures. 

“Of course, Miss (Y/N).” Alfred nodded, gesturing for you to follow him. 

“You got her, Dad?” you asked, glancing back at Bruce who’s eyes were only on his little granddaughter.

“I’m good.” Bruce looked back at you. “Don’t worry.” You nodded and left the room.

“Miss (Y/N), if you could start on the pie filling for my special blueberry pie.” Alfred moved to check the turkey in the oven again. You grinned, finding the bowls where they have always been. 

It brought back memories of other Christmases where you and Alfred made blueberry pies. You were the only one to know the recipe since the others were always too busy to learn. “Of course.” 

Alfred turned on the radio and the two of you worked silently. You finished the pie, sliding it into the oven as Alfred took the turkey out. “Can I help?” Dick asked as he peeked around the corner of the doorway.

“Set the table, Master Dick. Dinner should almost be ready,” Alfred said with a smile. You peeked at the turkey, the smell making your mouth water. It was a long way from the cans of cold beans you had been eating the last few days. 

Alfred handed you a bowl of steamed vegetables. You smiled, going to join Dick in the dining room. “Hey sis.” Dick smirked at you as he carefully set plate mats down.

“Hey yourself.” You rolled your eyes as you set the vegetables down and moved to help him. “How have you been?”

“Good, considering.” Dick bit his lip, eyeing you. “I wish you would have called me if you were in so much trouble.” 

You frowned, pausing with a stack of plates in your arms. Jason must have mention it to him. “I was trying to do it on my own, Dick. You know about that.”

“Yeah.” Dick gave you a half-smile. “But we made a pact to always look out for each other.”

You snorted. “That was when you were eleven and I was ten.” 

“Still applies.” He reached over to squeeze your elbow. “Just remember I’m always a call away.”

You rolled your eyes, heart warmed by his words. “This goes both ways, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

Dick nodded, letting his hair fall into his eyes. You set the plates down to brush it away. “For example, if I want cuddles from my niece, you better be there.”

“I’m sure I can make that work for you.” You laughed, hugging him tight. Dick hugged you back, lifting you up. “I missed you, Dick.”

“I missed you too.” You buried your face into his shoulder. “You guys have to stop making me cry.” 

Dick laughed, spinning you around. “Can’t help that.” 

“Careful with the dishes,” Alfred scolded with a smile as he came in with the bowl of mashed potatoes. You and Dick laughed, spinning faster. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so much.

***

Once dinner was done, most of the family left to go out into the city on patrol. You, Alfred, and Damian were the only ones left. Alfred and you wrapped presents on the living room floor while Damian stared at your daughter who was fast sleep in a portable sleeper Alfred had dug out of somewhere. 

Alfred nudged your arm, nodding over to Damian. You smirked over at him. Everyone thought it was odd that Damian didn’t go on patrol with them. You sensed what he stayed for. “Damian, did you want to hold her?” You got to your feet and went over to sit next to him.

“TT,” he huffed, blushing slightly. You picked her up. She whined slightly before settling back down. 

“Hold your arms like mine.” Damian copied you, sitting flat on the floor. “You have to support her head, and hold her close to your chest.” You handed Damian your daughter. He tensed when he felt the little life in his arms. 

“I can feel her heartbeat.” Damian had a shadow of a smile on his lips. 

You smiled and moved back to wrap another present. Damian held her stiffly for a while until eventually he started to rock her. Alfred sneaked a photo of the two. You shared a smile with him, pretending not to watch them. Damian held her until she woke up crying for another meal.

***

You headed upstairs with your daughter in your arms. “I have your old bedroom opened,” Alfred said, following you. 

“Thanks Alfred,” you whispered as you walked down the hall toward your bedroom. It was next to Dick’s old room and across from Bruce’s. Inside was almost untouched except for the fresh sheets and the bassinet in the corner. “Wow, you left it the same.” 

“Well except for a few additions.” Alfred moved over to the bassinet. You went over and gently laid your daughter down inside. “I’ll need more time to open up the nursery.”

“You don’t need to do that, Alfred.” You bit your lip. Guilt haunted you. Everyone was making such an effort for you. “This is enough.”

Alfred took your shoulders and turned you to face him. “Miss (Y/N), let us help you. This is your home. It is open to both of you.” Your lips trembled. Alfred pulled away before you cried again. Stupid hormones. “Now go to sleep.”

“Good night, Alfred.” You watched him go with a stray tear running down your cheek. The relief you felt was endless. No matter what your daughter was going to be taken care of in the best way possible. 

***

“Wake up, (Y/N),” Jason whispered in your ear. You moaned, opening one eye to see your brother smirking at you in the bright morning light. “Breakfast is ready and there are presents downstairs.”

You turned to bury your face into your pillow. “Jay, my daughter was up three times last night, please let me sleep.” 

Suddenly, your blankets were gone and you were scooped up into Jason’s arms. You shrieked, smacking his shoulder. Jason just laughed and carried you out the door. “Wait, my baby.” You reached back toward the room. 

“Cass has her. She picked her up before I woke you up.” Jason carried you downstairs. You relaxed, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Then I forgive you.” You kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“Merry Christmas, sis.” Jason brought you to the kitchen and sat you down at the breakfast table where the rest of the family was waiting. You searched for your daughter, relaxing when you saw Tim had her. “Can we eat now?” Jason asked, taking the seat next to you.

“Now we may.” Alfred set a giant plate of waffles in the center of the table. “Merry Christmas.”

Everyone dug in. You filled your plate and looked around the table. It felt so strange to be home, surrounded by family. You glanced at your daughter who was passed back to Bruce. He rocked her and met your eye. You smiled back at him, glad you took that chance to reconnect with him. Taking a bite from your plate, you sighed and were thankful for everything this family could give you and your daughter. 

[anneimaginesundertale]

Chickin’ Up on Everybody

Farmtale Bros’ Introduction

Mornings were always a rush in Anne’s house. Skeletons hurried everywhere trying to get breakfast, get dressed, get ready for work, get out of the house! In the middle of the chaos, someone rang the doorbell.

“Somebody get that, please!” Anne called, trapped in the middle of making her lunch in the kitchen.

“Got it!” Captain called and Anne heard running feet heading for the front. There was a brief collision, a cry of “Sorry, brother!” and then the door opened. Amid the rest of the noise in the house, Anne clearly heard a cry of delight. “You’re back!!!!”

“We brought presents!” a new voice said. It sounded kind of like a Papyrus, but not one she’d heard before.

Curiosity overcame her and Anne hastily packed her half-made sandwich into her lunchbox and hurried to get to the door. She pushed past several other interested skeletons to Captain’s side. There on the porch were two skeletons wearing overalls, flannel shirts, and big grins. The Sans of the pair clutched a basket of various vegetables to his chest. The Papyrus held two carriers, each containing a chicken. When they saw her, they both grinned even wider.

“You must be Anne!” the Papyrus cried, setting his chickens down on the porch so he could reach out to shake her hand. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“I haven’t heard anything about you,” Anne said, a bit flabbergasted. “Where did you two come from?”

“Technically, right now, somewhere in Kansas,” the Sans said, “but if you mean what universe, we been callin’ it Farmtale.”

“Of course. Well, um… don’t just stand there on the porch. You might as well come on in.”

“Yes, yes, come in!” Captain agreed. He and Comet stepped aside to let the newcomers inside.

It took a while, but eventually Anne got the new lads to sit in the living room (with the chickens still in their carriers, happily clucking away) and she fished some answers out of them. Their names were Sunny and Pumpkin. They came from a world where monsters had never been underground. Monsters and humans had a tentative peace and most monsters were happy to live among humans. They were peaceful folk, mostly working on farms. This particular pair had come through the machine back in the scattered days and had set up a homestead in Kansas. They worked hard to grow their own food and raise animals. Sunny was mostly in charge of the crops and Pumpkin the animals.

They’d come to visit once before (“you were visiting your parents”, Comet explained) and they’d really bonded with the Outertale boys, and the Horror boys. (Sansy and Sweets had left for the day already but the FT boys said they’d stay until dinner to see them.)

They’d come now to check in, share their fall harvest, and also set their “cousins” up with a few chickens of their own. That absolutely delighted Sweets, when he came home. He immediately began drawing up plans for an Epic Henhouse! Chickens meant eggs and, if the FT boys brought a rooster along, more chicks eventually. All of that meant food.

Sunny and Pumpkin said they’d bring a whole set of eggs to hatch in the spring and then the household could keep a rooster and another hen or two if you wanted. Sunny and Comet spent a lot of time in the garden and the greenhouse, talking plants, seeds, and growing methods. Pumpkin chatted with Sweets and Captain about his animals and everything to know about raising chickens.

Eventually the Farmtale boys did have to head home. It was only a shortcut away, though, and they promised they’d come back to visit again soon. “Y’all take care now,” Sunny said with a wave.

“It was real good to meet ya, Miss Anne,” Pumpkin added, giving her a hug before he headed down the steps. “Maybe one day you and all our kinfolk can come down and see the farm.”

“I think we can find a time to do that,” Anne agreed. She liked these lads! They were both so sweet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaaah! The Farmtale Boys are here! They are official!

Sunny and Pumpkin are happy to visit any time. They have to stay down at their farm, but they’ll come by to hang out and y’all are welcome to visit with them too! I’m working on some more details about them but I wanted to write a drabble to give them an official introduction!

[dokifluffs]

Dada’s Home | Kenma, Iwaizumi

Pairings: Kenma X Reader (female), Iwaizumi X Reader (female) 

Genre: softest haikyuu domestic fluff omg 

Author’s Note: get fed BUT also, kenma’s isn’t really him coming home from somewhere unlike the other’s so- 

Dada’s Home | Ushijima, Tsukishima // Dada’s Home | Oikawa, Atsumu 

Warnings! All post time skip! Spoilers to manga end for Iwa! and also they have kids 

Kenma:

Confetti and a bright fanfare sounded into his headset as he yawned as bright light graphics strobed into his eyes 

Kenma let out a deep sigh as he leaned back into his game chair, thankful he figured out the ideal design for Bouncing Ball to sell

He read through the comments, quietly reading out the donations and comments from his viewers for his twenty four hour charity event 

so many told him to sleep with a mix of others with the same typical comments about saying hi to wherever they were from 

“Uh,” he squeezed his eyes shut before rubbing them back open as he reached to the side for his glasses. “Thanks onigiriman45 for the $100 donation, that’s very generous of you. He wrote: ��It looks like there’s a little someone behind you trying to join your stream, also great games man, been watching you since the beginning, keep it up. I love watching after a long day,” he read 

“Ah, thanks for watching man, really appreciate it,” he smiled. 

“Little someone?” He turned in his seat as he looked back, the back area of his gaming room dark with LEDs strung up, lining the corners of the vast room 

you were fast asleep on the couch bed set in here for the nights you didn’t want to sleep alone in bed but you were cuddled into the blanket which covered your face 

but there his sub was right 

there was a little someone who sat on the bed who sat up with a little drool on her chin as she looked tiredly to her dad 

“Aw, D/N,” he didn’t miss a beat as he slipped off his cat headphones as he shuffled from his seat. “what’re you doing up, kitten?” he lifted her up just the slightest bit above his head as he stretched himself out 

“You need to sleep,” he said ironically as he sat her on his forearm as he made his way back, sure to leave you undisturbed

“Actually wait,” he paused as he stepped out of frame with his daughter in arm, the sound of the door sounding onto the stream 

there was a pause on the stream as a few new viewers joined the stream, asking where he went and whatnot

more donations and subs and gifts being given 

“Alrighty,” Kenma stepped into frame as he sat down, putting his headphones back on 

He scrolled up a bit through the comments, adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen into his face before his chat blew up once again 

“It seems you all noticed that I have a guest joining me,” he smiled as he glanced down to his baby girl cuddled against his chest in her carrier 

“Alright, let’s keep this train going,” he clicked to the next game, preparing the next hour or so for among us games 

The chat adored this new side of the Kodzuken 

his little girl leaned into him as he sat leaned back in his chair, easily playing the game whether he was doing tasks or pretending to be the impostor 

he every now and then looked down, adoring her sleepy little face, cheek pressed against his shirt, her small hands clinging onto him 

“good luck kiss,” he whispered, pecking her a small kiss to her cheek or beanie before he started the next game

Iwaizumi: 

He hauled his luggage through the door in a swift motion as he stepped in, his entire body exhausted and jet lagged yet to his surprise, he found the kitchen lights on while the living room lights were dimmed

He let out a low groan as he stretched, loosening his stiff muscles after a twelve-hour plane ride and then an hour and a half shuttle/ taxi ride home

But this was what he had to do as a trainer for the Japanese olympic team

The house was still and quiet with the lights on, giving him the illusion that you were awake but as he walked quietly over the carpeted floor

And there you two were

The stars of his life

You slept comfortably, fast asleep wearing one of his hoodies, laid on your back

On top of you, your baby girl as she laid on her tummy, cheek pressed on your stomach with your hands resting on top of her lower half

With her little mouth agape, her chubby cheeks squished on your stomach, she looked so precious to iwaizumi, his heart melted seeing her after so long

Her dark hair that matched his own was growing out, still very short but it was getting there

He knelt down beside the couch, resting his chin on his arm, tilting his head to the side to take a closer look at her

She was so small

He reached up with his other hand, nuzzling her plush, rosy cheek with the back of his index finger, the entire room silent

But being this close, he could hear her little breaths as she slept on you, as still as a log

Seeing her sleeping this close, it occurred to him he hadn’t seen her like this ever since she was born

He could remember that night so vividly as it it was only about a couple weeks ago

Yet a few months had already passed

A natural smile pulled on his lips, a rosy blush tinting his cheeks as he leaned even closer, his nose inches away from his

He closed the distance, rubbing his nose to hers, waking her from her sleep

But instead of normal cries from a child, her eyes slowly peeked open, a yawn escaping her as her hands closed around the fabric of the hoodie of his you wore

“Hey, baby,” his voice was low from his own sleepiness, the familiar sound even waking you too

His baby girl’s eyes pulled into thin lines as she smiled, cooing seeing her dad

“Sorry for waking you,” he knelt closer to you, pressing soft kisses to your cheek, mumbling repeatedly how much he missed the two of you into your skin

You brushed your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck, smiling as he pecked repeated small kisses to your lips

But as he did this, there were clear objections

“Don’t worry, dada’s gonna show you some love too,” he scooped his little girl into his hold, supporting her with his arm beneath her, the other resting on her back as he peppered small kisses all over her face, amusing her

“Let’s go up and sleep, hm?’ He glanced back to you as your daughter’s gaze was locked on her father’s, one small hand over her mouth, the other holding onto his shoulder

“Okay,” you let out a deep breath, your voice barely audible as he pulled you up, carrying his daughter securely in his arm

You couldn’t have asked for a better life than this one with Hajime. “Welcome home,” you snaked your hand around his waist as the two of you went up, leaving behind the dark ground level

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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[mhysa-leesi]

му вℓσσ∂у ναℓєηтιηє

{Gif Source} {Gif Source 2}

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers 𝒳 (femme) Reader 🩸.

Summary: "Steve Rogers is madly in love with you and he'll do anything for you to see that--no matter who gets in his way."

Word Count: 4,765 (Sorry, this is a long one!)

TW‼: Non-Con, Smut, Stalking, Yandere Themes, Murder (Description of Side-Character Death), Blood, Description of Gore, and Strong Language. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI‼

AN: This story contains adult and dark themes, please do not proceed if you are under the age of 18 or if ANY of these warnings upset you! I am not responsible for your media consumption–you and only you are. Also, I used one of the prompts from (@the-modern-typewriter) to describe a character's death, ALL CREDIT GOES TO THEM. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

AN Cont.: If you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual violence, please reach out for help. I do not condone ANY of the actions described in this story, this is merely a work of FICTION.

The first love letter was delivered on a gloomy Friday afternoon. The clouds above the city were dark and full of frigid torrents of rainfall. Gold and scarlet autumn leaves whispered against the chilly winds as acorns scattered about; rolling and cracking underfoot as you made your everyday walk to work. You had chosen to stray from your usual route that day, deciding on a new corner coffee shop instead of your normal stop.

You remembered that day clearly, as if it had happened just yesterday. The new coffee shop was a small, hole in the wall with plastic vines of ivy and fairylights rimming the framework of the inside. You ordered rich and dark coffees, with creamy oat milk for you and your coworkers, and an apple pecan oatmeal cookie for yourself.

Your workday was seemingly the same as any other. Pam was gossiping with Susan, and Scott was hiding from Mark, your manager, in the breakroom. You remember you were seated at your cubicle when things turned, staring at the rain against the window, and tapping your pen against your notepad, when you were startled by the mail carrier. He handed you a single, pink envelope with a heart stamp on its flap and left with a mumbled “you’re welcome”. You frowned as there was no return address or other name besides yours. You had opened it anyway.

You remembered how your frown had deepened as your stomach dropped. The paper trembled in your hands as you stared at the small heart sketched at the bottom. You frantically looked around the office for any sign of a joke, hoping to see one of your coworkers giggling at your shocked reaction. But everyone had their noses deep into their screens, typing away at their work. You turned the letter over, looking for a name or a clue as to who had sent it. But it was blank.

And you remembered how you had crumpled up the letter and tossed it as you refocused and finished the rest of that workday.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks passed before you got another mysterious love letter delivered to your desk, a small bouquet of roses and baby’s-breath with it. And again, you crumpled it up and threw it away; leaving the flowers in the breakroom. You had made a mental note that day to talk to the mailman about the delivery of these letters.

For a time they stopped and you thought you were out of the woods or thought your secret admirer had lost interest at the very least. But you were wrong. Your third envelope had been waiting for you in your mailbox when you had gotten home from work one Monday evening. You didn’t bother opening it as you sent it straight to the garbage.

You were growing paranoid and antsy as you constantly looked over your shoulder. You’d freeze every time you came across an envelope, even if it was just your monthly rent notice or bank statement. You had refused to live like this, in a constant state of anxiety and fear, so, that’s how you found yourself moving into a new apartment across town.

You were met with months of peace, you were finally readjusting to life before the letters. You had even moved in with someone you had been seeing from your new job, Chris. He was perfect, someone straight from a romance novel; tall, dark, and handsome, with a taste for adventure and romance. You were happy with him--you were in love and had long since decided that if Chris were to ask you to marry him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today was your anniversary with Chris, and the two of you had an entire evening planned. Dinner at your favorite restaurant, a surprise showing of your favorite movie at the corner cinema, and then home, where you’d give him his gift. A red lacy lingerie set with fuzzy handcuffs, and a silk blindfold to match.

Your heart skipped and your stomach alighted with butterflies as you touched up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. The evening had been absolutely perfect and it was about to get even better. You stepped out into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but red lace and a bathrobe. A spritz of perfume here and a mint there, and you were ready to go surprise your man.

You walked out into the living room and seductively leaned against the wall, watching as he poured two glasses of red wine. He turned and froze, swallowing hard as he abandoned the drinks on the kitchen counter. You smirked as he pulled you to him by your hips, instantly locking his lips to yours. He looked down at you through his eyelashes, his deep brown eyes darkened with lust, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips once more.

Your eyes closed and moaned as he peppered kisses along the curve of your neck, tilting your head back to give him better access. His hands roamed your body hotly, squeezing and caressing your dips and curves. Chris entangled his hands in your hair as he moved you to the counter, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. He pushed your robe down your shoulders to reveal the red lace hidden underneath, and with a groan, he bent to trace the rosette lacework that covered your breasts with his tongue. You hummed and wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands running down his back to toy with the bottom hem.

Chris gently pushed you down to an angle as he kissed down your body, stopping just below your navel to wink up at you. You bit back a laugh as you wiggled your hips impatiently as you leaned back on your hands. With your fingers splayed against the wooden countertop, your touch met something smooth and waxy--like the waxy seal of an envelope. You reached behind you and grabbed a pink envelope, with a wax stamp of a heart on its flap. Your heart seemed to stop as you stared at the envelope in your hands.

You vaguely felt Chris’s lips on your inner thighs, kissing and nipping at your skin. When he heard no reaction from you, he looked up, his brows furrowed and eyes full of questions.

“What’s that?” he asked, “You wrote me a love letter, too?” he winked as he reached for it.

You jerked it away from his grasp, your heart hammering in your chest as you ripped open the flap; ripping the waxy heart in half.

P.S. You should really lock your windows, doll. You jumped off the counter and ran to the windows, each one was locked--except for one. You locked it and double-checked its strength, fighting against the lock as you tried to open it.

“Babe? (Y/N),” Chris said sternly, snapping you out of your trance.

You looked at him now. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t think of how to form the words. You wanted to say everything was fine and okay, but it wasn’t--it was far from it. Whoever had been writing and sending you these knew where you lived now, and that scared you. After months of trying so hard to move on from this, you felt as if you were right back at square one again.

The rest of the night was unclear to you. You moved like a zombie, your brain on autopilot as you crawled into bed to hide under the covers until the morning sun rose. Chris asked questions, of course. But you had no answers for him. You had no idea who had been writing them and had absolutely no clue how they had found you again.

Chris had suggested going to the police, but what could they do? No one had physically harassed you, and although creepy, the letters weren’t threatening. And not to mention, you had thrown away most of your evidence. You were at a loss. Chris was supportive, always there to comfort you during the night when you were restless, but that never kept you from feeling alone.

Your paranoia increased tenfold by the end of that week. You changed your daily routine every few days, hoping that’d throw your stalker off your trail, but it never did. They always seemed ten steps ahead of you, whereas you struggled to even think to keep up with them. Your breaking point was reached on Sunday evening as you met with one of your old friends from high school for breakfast-dinner--an old tradition you two had decided to revive for the night.

Things were going good, and you even dared to forget about your own issues as you cut into your syrup-soaked pancakes. Madison was telling you about her newest fling and how good he was in the sack, and you genuinely found yourself happy to listen to the vulgar details. After painting you a vivid picture of her sex life, Madison excused herself to the restroom; leaving you alone with your pancakes and empty cup of iced coffee.

You saw a head of electric blue hair and you perked up. Your waitress came with a smile and handed you a paper cup of steaming coffee and a single napkin.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you said with a polite smile.

“A gentleman ordered this for you,” she winked before walking away.

You frowned as you looked at the writing on the napkin. Refusing to even acknowledge the cup of coffee in front of you.

Your mouth went dry as you stared at the familiar handwriting. Brown dress, he knew what you were wearing--he was here. You shot to your feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, as you looked around frantically, ignoring all of the judgemental looks and hushed whispers you were getting.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” asked Madison, her brows knitted in concern.

“Yeah,” you lied, “I just… I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you later, Mads.”

You dug through your wallet and gave a twenty to your waitress on your way out, only stopping to yell over your shoulder for her to keep the change. You practically ran home from the restaurant as your anxiety started to settle in your bones, making you heavy with unease. You called Chris, but were only met with his voicemail. The elevator ride up to your floor was tortuous as you watched the floor numbers slowly light up one by one until finally, they stopped at your floor. You panted as you slammed the door shut behind you, sliding the lock and chain in place as you dropped your head to rest against the wooden frame.

You sniffled as the words from his letter were seared into your eyelids. You just wanted him to leave you alone, you didn’t know what you did to catch his eye, and worst of all, you didn’t know how to make it stop. You choked on your hiccupped breaths as tears streaked down your cheeks. When you finally calmed down you switched on the lights and finally turned around…

You stared at Chris in horror. Blood drenched the entire living room, his corpse sat limp in a chair like a broken, bloody doll. His throat and wrists had been slashed. You tried to hold your hand over the open wounds as you screamed for help, but no matter the pressure you applied, the blood still gushed and seeped through your fingers, oozing down your arm, and dripping from your elbow. The gore of it all brought waves of nausea that went beyond physical retching, the sickness you felt was indescribable. But the smell, the smell was something much worse. Metallic, iron, copper… Your ears started to ring. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. You could only stare at the bloodstain on your hands and scream.

You left that following weekend, abandoning the big city to move back in with your parents and younger sister. You spent most of your days locked in your room, hiding from the world under the comfort of your blanket and drawn curtains. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. You’d look at yourself in the mirror and cry as you no longer recognized yourself as the woman you once were. You knew it was time to move on, but you couldn’t, not when you’d see Chris’s bloodied body every time you’d close your eyes.

You started small by taking baby steps toward your recovery. It started with family meals, then a cashier job at your local supermarket, shopping trips with your mother and sister. Then you eventually graduated to therapy, where you’d stare at a forest green ceiling as you reclined on the chaise longue. Therapy helped and it was admittedly one of the better moments of your monotonous days, you felt heard, seen, as you walked through your own thoughts and nightmares. Your appointments even inspired you to reach out to Chris’s parents for closure, to go with them to visit their son’s grave. It was bittersweet, leaving behind a bouquet of roses for the man you had loved so deeply instead of a kiss goodbye; but it was something you knew you’d have to come to terms with. It wasn’t your fault, that was the mantra you’d tell yourself when you’d catch glimpses of his blood on your hands.

Before you knew it a year had passed since the incident, and in that year, you had not received one letter. You had made a resolution for the first time that New Year’s Eve as you waited for the midnight ball to drop. You told yourself you’d forget, to start fresh, and become an even better version of yourself. You were a flower that was fighting against all odds to blossom.

You cut your hair, got bangs and highlights. Saved up for a brand new, off-the-lot car. And moved into a cozy apartment with your sister. Things were looking up for you and you truly believed that you had finally found your way out of the woods. But life had a habit of playing cruel tricks on those who were naive enough to believe such a thing.

It was mid-February, just a few days before Valentine’s Day, when things started to go to shit. You had just come back from the gym with your sister when you saw it. A pink envelope with no return address or any other name besides yours, with a wax seal in the shape of a heart on the back flap, sat on your pillow. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as you held it in your hands. You debated on throwing it away, on pretending you never received it. But you wanted to know what more this twisted bastard could have to say. You ripped it open and read.

You didn’t hesitate as you ripped the letter to shreds, throwing the pieces into the garbage with an angry grunt. Delusional piece of deranged shit, you thought. You raked through your brain for the millionth time since your first letter, trying to figure out who the fuck could possibly be the sender, but you came to the same conclusion you had been coming to for years--nothing. It was agonizing, not knowing who your torturer was. It was your shadow, how could you not know who was living in it? But, no matter how hard you thought, you kept drawing blank after blank.

Your sister comforted you with a glass of wine and dumplings from the takeout place up the street. She was going out tonight, but offered to stay home with you instead.

“No,” you shooed, “I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl.”

“You sure?” she frowned, “It’s no big deal, Girls Night is every Friday night, I can always go next week.”

“I’m fine. Go and have fun for the both of us,” you said as you waved her away.

She left a few minutes later, dressed in heels and a short skirt. You ate the rest of the dumplings and finished the bottle of wine before calling it a night. You undressed down to your underwear and threw on an oversized t-shirt and plopped down onto the bed with an unceremonious bounce. The wine coursing through your system made it easier than usual to fall asleep, and the next thing you knew, you were in a deep sleep, dreaming of a life with Chris--of a life without the letters. It was one of those good dreams you wished you’d never wake from.

Which was why you were so annoyed when a loud noise startled you awake. You looked at your phone and the time read “1:00 AM”, you frowned, it was too early for your sister to be back already. You padded along the hallway, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you called out for her, worried she might’ve passed out drunk on the floor or something. You stopped as you reached the front room--the very empty front room. Your heart started to pound as you stood frozen, staring at the empty room before you. A shuffling from behind caught your attention, then. And against your better instincts, you turned around slowly to see a shadowed silhouette of a man standing at the end of the hallway.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, just staring dumbstruck at the man. With every step he took toward you, you took one back. Inching closer and closer to the front door with every backward step.

“Doll, don’t,” he warned, his voice striking you with fear like a bolt of lightning.

Without a second thought, you ran toward the door, fumbling stupidly with the locks in your panicked state of mind. The man was on you in a flash, easily dragging you away from your pathetic attempt at escape. His arms slithered around you like snakes, their hold constricting as he locked an arm firmly around your neck, silencing your screams as you struggled to breathe. You slapped and clawed at his forearm as he pulled you back to your bedroom.

“Please be a good girl for me, (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he said against your hair.

With his arm still wrapped around your neck, he threw you down onto the bed, quickly straddling you before you could scramble to your feet. He pinned your arms above your head with one hand and forced you to look at him with the other. His face was illuminated by the moonlight. The silver shine highlighting his familiar eyes through the holes of his helmet. You froze as he pulled off his blue cowl.

You were beyond confused, to say the least. You stared up at Captain America, your brain working overtime to try and put the puzzle pieces together. What was Captain America doing in your apartment? And why had he called you “baby”? What the fuck was going on? Were you lucid dreaming? You must’ve looked as confused as you felt because he smiled down at you, gently promising you answers to the questions that you hadn’t yet asked.

“You’re even more beautiful up-close, doll,” he said as he brushed away hairs that fell in your face from your struggle.

Your eyes widened. Doll. The nickname sent chills down your spine as the word flashed against the pink color of the envelopes, against the red of spilled blood.

“You…”

He ran a finger down your cheek and nodded, “Me.”

You paled under him, your bottom lip trembling as you shook your head in disbelief. He frowned and hushed you, caressing your cheek and wiping away the tears that fell.

“Shh… Don’t cry, baby,” he cooed, “I’ll take good care of you, you don’t need to cry.”

“W–Why?” you hiccupped through your sobs, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, (Y/N),” your stomach dropped as he answered you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, “No. No! You’re Captain America. You’re supposed to be a hero!”

You fought against his grip, flailing and kicking wildly as you tried in vain to get away from him. You trashed against him, kicking against his thighs with all of your strength, but it was nothing to him--nothing but an annoying inconvenience.

“Stop,” he said, his jaw ticking with simmering anger.

But you refused to stop. You whined and fought against him.

“Stop,” he repeated, his anger coming to a rolling boil.

You shot up and headbutted him. He reeled back and glowered down at you, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared.

“I said stop,” he shouted as he finally stilled you with a sharp slap.

The sound was as sharp as the feel of it. You sobbed as the pain stung your skin, the right side of your face becoming numb from the harsh impact of it.

“Why are you doing this, Steve?” you asked again.

“Because I love you,” he answered again, “I know you love me, too, (Y/N).”

“No,” you exclaimed, “I don’t love you! I don’t love you! I don’t love you!” you sobbed.

“You will,” Something seemed to change within his eyes. No longer were there hints of green in his blue eyes, but something much darker… Something more sinister. You swallowed as you shrunk under his intense glare.

You exclaimed as he forced his lips against yours. Squeezing your jaw until he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You pushed against him, beating on his shoulders as he shoved his tongue further down your throat. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, a ghost of a content smile on his face. You gasped and tried to wiggle away once more, rolling onto your stomach as you did so. A yelp escapes you as you feel him grab your hips, pulling you back under him.

Steve puts his weight on you, trapping you underneath him as he begins to undress you. You try to roll onto your back, but his knee keeps you in place. You fight to keep your shirt on, knowing you wore nothing but your panties underneath it. But you were fighting blind. You kicked up, the heels of your feet hitting the backs of Steve’s strong thighs. He manhandles you easily as he rolls you onto your back, finally ridding you of your cotton shield.

Your hands went to your chest before he could. He pried your arms away, baring your breasts to him with a jerked jiggle. He licked his lips as he cupped and squeezed your breast. You flinched as if his touch had burned you, and in some sense, it had. Your eyes widened in shame as Steve blew on your nipples, the skin hardening into pointed peaks. He brings his lips to them, circling them with his tongue. Sucking, licking, pinching. You press your lips together to keep you from whimpering, and you close your eyes in hopes you can will him away. But your feeble defense attempts don’t last long.

Your eyes snap open as you feel his lips leave your breasts to trail kisses down to your navel, stopping at the band of your underwear.

“Please…” you beg. You bite your lip to keep it from trembling as fresh tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes.

Steve smiles against your skin, “I’m going to make you mine, (Y/N). ‘M gonna make you feel so good, doll.”

You stifle a sob as you feel him slide your panties off past your ankles, his fingers scorching your skin as they explore back up between your thighs. Instinctively, you try to close your legs around his hands. But he doesn’t stop. Steve digs his fingers into the soft skin of your inner thighs as he forcefully spreads you wide. Your pussy on full display to him. You stiffen under his gaze, your face burning with shame as he stares in awe at your spread folds. He runs a finger from your clit to your entrance, dipping knuckle-deep into your channel. Your thighs flex as your body tenses at the intrusion. He adds another and languidly pumps them in and out, curling and scissoring them. You fight against the blossoming heat within your belly. Your shame grows as you hear the squelch of your wetness around his pumping fingers.

Steve presses a firm thumb to your clit and you cry out before you can stop yourself. He pumps his fingers into you harder, faster, as he pulls more moans and cries from your lips. You sob as you feel that coil deep within your belly begin to unravel with every stroke and pump. You fight against your own body as you keep yourself from teetering over the edge of pleasure, refusing to let yourself submit to him. But Steve had other plans for you. Suddenly, before you could register his movements, you felt his tongue against your most intimate area. You mewled and curled your toes as he fucked you with his tongue, his thumb never stopping their firm and fast circles against your clit. You sobbed as your body convulsed with white-hot pleasure, and before you could stop yourself, you came on his tongue with a loud, dragged out moan.

You sniffled as you cried, but whether it was from the intensity of your orgasm or your shame and fear, you didn’t know. The lines were starting to blur for you.

Steve gently kissed around your folds before crawling up over you. He held your face and forced your lips to his once more before he began to undress, leaving the taste of yourself on your tongue as he pulled away with a wet smack. He unclothed himself, then. Stripping himself of his spangled-stars and red and white stripes. He looked down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes, and a breathless quirk of his lips.

You were limp as he folded you to his needs. Bringing your bent and spread knees to your chest as he took himself in his hands. His length stood tall and proud, the tip swollen and leaking down this thick shaft with anticipation. Your legs flinched as they tried to close on their own. You choked on a sob as he wrenched them apart. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him tap your pussy with his cock, running the tip up and down your folds as he wet himself with your soaking arousal until finally, he pressed himself into your entrance. You let out a strained whine as he slammed into you.

Steve’s eyes were shut and mouth slightly agape as he hisses at your tightness. His hips thrust in excitement as you clench around him. You whimper again as he slides out, just to slam himself back in. Your body jolts with every lust-driven thrust. He slides his hands under you and brings them to hold onto your shoulders, bringing you down to meet his every forceful thrust. The sound of skin slapping and lewd moans fill your bedroom, your sweat sheen bodies glowing under the moonlight. Steve speeds up, mercilessly hammering that hidden sweet spot that makes you scream and clench around his cock. You spasm and shake as Steve forces another orgasm from you.

“Tell me you love me,” he pants.

You shake your head, pushing on his shoulders as the realization of your situation comes crashing back into you.

His hand wraps around your throat as he pounds into you harder than before, “Say it, (Y/N).”

You scratch at his hand as your vision begins to dot and blacken, “I–I love you…”

“Louder,” he demands, “‘I love you, Steve’, say it, doll, I wanna hear you say it.” he moans.

“I love you, Steve,” you choke out.

He releases his grip on you then, and you cough and gasp for air. His rhythm becomes erratic as his hips drive into you with renewed vigor, “Again.”

“I love you, Steve,” you moan.

His body jerks as his hips stutter to a stop. Steve comes with your name on his lips, and you whined as you felt his warmth flood inside of you. He panted above you, his hips languidly thrusting as his abdomen clenched with his drawn out release. He pulled out of you and collected the spunk that leaked from your weeping cunt on his fingers. He brought them to your lips and forced you to suck them clean.

“I love you, too, doll. Forever and ever,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*тαgℓιѕт*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧: @hoosier-daddi

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 2 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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As it turned out, 'secluded cabin' was a pretty accurate statement.

Hawks had arranged for a very discreet hero taxi service to drive you the 5-hour trip from Musutafu to a quaint mountainous village that was so small and quiet, you almost doubted it was even on the map.

Past the snowy village, through the winding roads and towering trees, over a bridge, past a frozen lake, and then some miles off the main road, tucked away in a small clearing, was a beautiful cabin.

While the days were steadily growing warmer as spring rapidly approached, it still snowed at night. The snow had melted off the trees from the warmth of the midday sun; but, there was still a light blanket of white on the rooftop and across the surrounding grounds.

There were no poles lining the street, nothing that could bring electricity to the house; however, you could see what was likely a generator tucked away in the back. Someone had propped the cover off and cleaned out the snow.

At that sight, it became obvious that Hawks had beat you here. He already taken to clearing the snow out of the entry way as well, exposing a beautiful cobblestone pathway.

You exited the vehicle and retrieved your bags from the trunk. The very second you closed the hatch, the driver made a speedy exit, wheels skidding in the snow as they backed out before doing a sharp U-turn and barreling down the road.

Luckily, the entrance to the cabin opened before you could worry that you had just been abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Sure enough, Hawks stepped out, wild blonde locks brushed back, a little fluffier than usual due to the change in humidity.

Despite how cold it was, he was wearing a black tank top and loose, light grey sweat pants. He even stepped out onto the cold stone pathway with bare feet. Yet, with a light flush to his skin, he didn't look cold at all.

You had been making a face when he approached, and he offered an explanation, uttering, "I told 'em not to linger. It's suspicious."

Some large plumes departed his wingspan and grabbed at your luggage, one even pulling your shoulder bag off your back. They whipped away, bags in tow, and zipped past Hawks and through the doorway, disappearing into the cabin.

The winged hero didn't immediately usher you inside, as he usually did in these types of situations, but arched over you suddenly, arms bringing you into a tight embrace while his lips captured yours.

The sudden closeness forced your back to arch. Unconsciously, your hands fell onto his barely clothed shoulders, and you felt how warm he was. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he was running a fever.

The kiss was brief, but uncharacteristically messy, not that you were complaining. It was a kiss of longing, like he had missed you dearly, as if it had been months and not a day and a half.

He pulled back, a distant, albeit blissful, look on his face. His eyelids sagged as if he was tired, but the gold of his iris was bright and his pupils were focused.

"I didn't get to clean yet, but - ugh - do you wanna see inside?" he asked, some slight nervousness to his tone.

"Yeah," you breathed.

Hawks stepped aside and you gently brushed past him and stepped inside. The wood floors creaked softly beneath your feet as you crossed the threshold. Immediately, you were hit with a wonderful scent, earthy, like tree bark, but sweet, like raw honey.

It was a decent sized cabin, spacious and not heavily furnished. The kitchen was on the small side, but seemingly to accommodate a larger living room.

As Hawks had warned, there was a thin layer of dust all across the wood floors. The furniture was covered by clear tarps, shielding them from the debris.

The dining area tucked away in the corner had a chabudai in place of a western style table. It was small and clearly only intended for two people. You had a feeling it was new, considering how spotless it looked compared to the rest of the cabin.

A huge, stone fireplace rested against the north wall, surrounded by large windows that gave a beautiful view of the outside. They were adorned with heavy curtains, pulled back to let the sunlight in.

Hawks was lingering, following close, staring down at you as you walked around and took in the sight of the place. When your eyes landed on him, and you caught his unblinking stare, you realized he was awaiting feedback.

It startled you a little, for Hawks wasn't the kind to fuss over these sorts of things; but, you had a decent enough understanding of what a rut was to know what was going through his head.

"Relax, birdbrain," you cooed, reaching up to tap gently at his cheek with a closed palm. That seemed to knock him out of his stupor, for he blinked and suddenly looked sheepish. He flickered his gold eyes away, as if to give you space.

"I love it," you praised, looking back into the living area. "Cozy, and smells nice."

You heard him exhale a relieved sigh through his nostrils.

"We should get to work. Where's the cleaning stuff?" you asked, peeling your jacket off.

"Oh. I'll-" he began.

"You'll let me help," you interrupted him gently.

When you turned back to face him, and saw the bewildered expression he was wearing, you wondered if maybe that wasn't the right thing to fit with his current state.

"Unless that's... bad?" you offered uncertainly, shoulders sagging.

Hawks laughed suddenly at the sunken expression on your face, as if the joyous sound came sputtering out against his will.

"No," he answered softly, leaning in suddenly for another kiss, as if he couldn't help it. You didn't get a chance to kiss back before he was retreating.

"Don't change," he sighed. "I want you as you, not as my..."

"-subservient housewife?" you offered, just a little teasing.

He chuckled softly, breathing out a harsh, "fuck, no."

Hawks maneuvered around you and headed for what you guessed was a supply closet. Inside, the cleaning gear was also neatly packaged in containers and safe from dust.

It made sense, how neatly arranged everything was. Hawks was a fairly neat person; but, it was also clear that he had this whole thing down, neatly tuned and properly sorted out. He had been coming here for years, after all.

This place was special to him. That much was clear.

The two of you started to dusting and sweeping, followed by a diligent mopping, with the two of you working in tandem.

Hawks was fairly quiet during the whole ordeal, seemingly focused sternly on the task at hand. It had been his nest for years. This was hardly anything new; but, it was now going to be yours, too.

He didn't tell you that he had been worried he would react negatively to your presence. He didn't always react rationally during this time. Seemingly average things would sometimes irritate him, and a part of the possessive onslaught included this abode.

Fortunately, that hadn't been the case. Cleaning the cabin with you was soothing. He wasn't unaware of the obvious implication: that you were preparing a nest together, your shared nest. He didn't say it aloud, but you had come to that realization, as well.

It had actually calmed him quite a bit. He had been on edge before you arrived, skin prickled with heat and sweating unreasonably considering the cold. Those weren't abnormal during his ruts; but, it felt intensified with that knowledge that you were going to be here.

Darkness swept across the forest as the hours dragged on. Luckily, you were just about finished by the time it got dark.

There was a neat stack of firewood arranged on a carrier near the fireplace, making you wonder if that was what he had worked on before your arrival. The logs looked freshly cut and heavy.

Crimson feathers delivered logs to the hearth. Hawks retrieved a set of matches from a cubby near the carrier and then kneeled before the hearth. He set one of the matches ablaze and carefully ignited the firewood arranged in the pit.

Warmth and light flooded the cabinet. Plumes gathered along the edges of the curtains and pulled them back, covering the windows. When they returned to his wingspan, he stepped back and monitored the fire briefly.

While cleaning, you had learned there was a cellar and partial second story, as well as an indoor bathroom. It seemed that the main use of the generator was to power the water heater and indoor plumbing.

The cellar was small, down a short flight of stairs, with concrete floors and walls, the perfect size for containing a month's worth of food and supplies, far more than was necessary for just a week.

The second story was a loft that oversaw the living room, giving a great view of the fireplace. There was no safety railing on the upstairs, likely for the very obvious fact that Hawks could fly. There was, at least, a staircase.

Upstairs, there was a large bed frame with a plush mattress, wrapped up tight to protect from dust, a large chest pressed up against the wall, and a desk without a chair.

After he removed the bed cover, you watched Hawks pull neatly folded blankets and pillow cases out the chest. It was fascinating to see someone, who normally slept wherever his body landed, so meticulously prepare the bedding: layers and layers of blankets, followed by dressing the pillows and laying them out.

It was especially perplexing because of the intense, concentrated look on his face. He had been so focused that he hadn't even realized that you had paused what you were doing to watch him.

Luckily, you caught yourself staring before he did, and shuffled back downstairs before he could notice.

A sudden howling had startled you, before a sharp wind rattled against the shutters. Something was thumping gently against the roof and when the wind picked up, you could almost hear the trees shuddering outside.

"It's snowing," Hawks observed, suddenly at your side.

You could see a glimpse of crimson in the corner of your eye, and realized he had a wing fanned out around you, not quite close enough to touch, but hovering. Maybe, he hadn't even realized he was doing that.

"Oh," you answered quietly.

Together, you prepared dinner, settling for a classic favorite of his: yakitori chicken and stir fry noodles.

Eating dinner together, and talking about nothing, made you realize, it had been the first time in a long time, if ever, that you hadn't discussed work: nothing about the agency, nothing about heroes or villains, nothing about police business or missions.

It was just senseless conversations that amounted to nothing.

The dining table was small and the floor was cold; but, your hands brushed constantly due to the lack of space. It made you realize that you had longed to have this type of moment with him, something so utterly domestic.

"I know it's not super late," Hawks began, on his way to the kitchen with the dirty plates. "But, I'm gonna wake you up early; so, let's get to bed, okay?"

His voice was soft, surprisingly drowsy, you realized, and he continued, "it's - well, there's something I wanna show you, and it looks best in the sunrise."

He had started the dishes before you could; so, you stepped in close, deciding to tease him a little.

"I bet you do look best in the sunrise," you uttered, leaning against the counter top near the sink, where he had busied his hands. He was looking away from you; but, you could see his lip twitch into a faint smile.

Hawks laughed, a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest. "Not me," he replied softly. Yet, he found himself feeling enamored with the knowledge that that was where your mind had wandered first.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" you offered, standing upright and shifting away from the counter.

"Nah," he replied simply. "I'll join ya' in a bit."

You changed into your pajamas, brushed your teeth and pulled your hair back, before heading upstairs. Blankets and pillows were stacked high on top of the mattress, making the bedframe disappear beneath it.

It not only looked incredibly warm, but incredibly soft, and an inspection with your hand, smoothing over the surface, confirmed that. There were several pillows pressed against the headboard and even more at the foot of the bed.

If you hadn't seen him arrange it, you would have doubted it was even Hawks' bed. From the glimpses you had seen into his life, he was a minimalist.

His office at the agency was fairly large, but looked almost comical with the lack of furniture in it. He wasn't one to buy much of anything outside of perishables.

"Take those off."

You had heard that commanding tone many times before; but, in the peace and serenity of this cabin, it startled you. Your shoulders twitched a little and you turned to face him, having not heard Hawks approach.

His gold eyes were glaring at your body, shifting up to meet your gaze when you turned to face him.

You gawked back at him, dumbfounded by his boldness, and a little intrigued, if you were being honest. He had warned you about this, and you were about to comply when his dark expression suddenly softened.

"Oh fuck," Hawks blurted, embarrassment washing over his face. The intensity of the moment dissipated and you found yourself unable to hold back a faint smile at the way his face so rapidly changed from anger to shame.

"Shit - I - sorry - ugh," he stammered, some redness tinting the tops of his ears. His dominant hand came up and ruffled his hair. "That was messed up. Ah - what I mean is, can we sleep naked?"

It was clear he wasn't embarrassed about the request, but the way that he had asked. You couldn't hold back a soft chuckle at his frazzled state.

"Of course," you uttered, and began shedding your clothes.

He was staring at your nudity as if it wasn't something he had seen many times before, as if his hands and mouth hadn't explored every inch of skin, hadn't touched and claimed parts of you your own hands couldn't reach.

It made you feel powerful, beautiful.

"Did you brush your teeth?" you asked, knocking him out of his stupor.

He didn't respond, but made a face that gave you your answer. He turned away then, and hopped over the edge of the loft, floating down into the lower floor, and scurried off to the bathroom.

Promptly, you disappeared beneath the blankets, shivering from the cold, skin prickled with goosebumps. You were about to scold yourself for complying with him so eagerly, without demanding a compromise, mainly that you expected him to warm you up.

Luckily, it didn't take him long to join you, and you suddenly felt a very warm, and very naked, body slot into the space behind you, wiggling beneath the blankets. It was almost concerning how warm he was, like he had just flung himself into the hearth before running back over here.

You rolled onto your back to greet him and Hawks wasted no time slotting over you, tangling legs, arms falling on either side of your head. Wispy bangs fell over his forehead, longer strands catching on his eyebrows.

Your eyes peered over his shoulders, where you could see his wings were fanned out above him, plumes stretched wide, looming possessively. When your gaze shifted to his face, your breath hitched.

His stare was hypnotizing, as if he couldn't believe you were here, gold eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit loft.

It made you sad to think just your presence alone had pleased him so much, whereas nothing else had yet to occur. It made you think of all the years he had to endure this alone, the loneliness far more straining than the lack of a pliant body.

"Hey," he began, voice hoarse, distant.

His dominant hand shifted from the bed to cup your cheek, thumb gently prodding at your cheek bone. Just like the rest of his body, his hand was so warm.

"I know I said I wouldn't let you leave," he explained, fingers sliding carefully across your temple. "But, if you want to, at any time, I'll call the taxi and-"

You leaned up, taking his lips in a gentle kiss to silence him. He moaned into the kiss, clearly surprised by your interruption. His hand departed your face, lowering to caress the side of your neck.

When you pulled back, he chased, not letting you depart from him quite so quickly. The kiss carried on for a short while, Hawks only leaning back when he was satisfied.

"No," you disagreed in a soft hum, hands rising to push strands of his hair out of his face. "I'm not leaving. We're going through this together. Okay?"

He let out a sigh that fluttered across your cheeks. "Okay," he agreed, as if he couldn't believe it.

Hawks shifted until he was lying beside you, one arm loose around your waist. You turned a little to lay on your side and lean into him, cheek falling comfortably into the pillow beneath your head, and felt him nuzzle into your back, bringing you as close as he could without ruining your comfort.

One of his wings folded carefully over you while the other sprawled out across the bed. The light from the fire just barely reached the loft, an amber glow that flickered with the dancing flames.

The sounds of the gentle snowfall outside was a little louder upstairs. One of the nearby windows rattled softly, trembling weakly from the breeze that shook the shutters. The rafters above creaked occasionally in melodic hums.

Behind you, Hawks' chest undulated with his breathing, moving against the skin of your back. His wings shifted ever so slightly in harmony with the expansion and shrinking of his lungs. The longer plumes on the ends twitched occasionally.

"Keigo?" you whispered.

He didn't answer. Judging by the way his arm had slackened where it rested over your waist, you figured he had fallen asleep already.

The bedding was soft, and you had no doubt that he had washed them diligently; yet, mingled with the earthy tones of the cabin, they smelt like him. The hearth crackled distantly, the sound a faint echo through the cabin.

It didn't take long to slip away.

• • •

• • •

Sometime in the middle of the night, you were woken by a strange sound. In your groggy state, it sounded like a distant animal cooing into the night.

Once you properly came to, you realized the warmth against your back had retreated. The blanket had been partially ripped away in the process, leaving the skin of your back exposed to the cold air of the cabin.

What had sounded far away you now realized was coming from right behind you, pained little noises and harsh wheezing. You rolled over to take in the sight of Hawks, blindly reaching for him in a moment of panic.

Worry struck you when your skin touched his. He had already been warm to the touch before; but now, his skin felt scorching, sticky with sweat. Your hand had landed on his chest, where you could feel his muscles rapidly rising and falling with each staggering breath.

The noise that had woken you became obvious then; he was panting, sharp and labored breaths that whooshed in and out of him, occasionally accompanied with a quiet, pained sound.

He had shoved the blankets away and was laying on his back, wings tucked in uncomfortably tight beneath him. Through the faint glow of warm light from the fireplace, you could see his chest raising and falling rapidly, head tossed back, face contorted in pain. Some strands of blonde locks were clinging to the sweat soaked skin on his face.

"Keigo - Keigo," you called to him, hands rising to his shoulders so you could shake him.

It wasn't until he jerked suddenly, eyes opening and head whipping towards you, that you realized he had been sleeping. His labored breathing intensified, but only for a second, before he started to calm down.

His gold eyes were glossy for a second, staring at you blindly, before he started to wake properly. His lips were parted, sharp breaths still escaping him in harsh wisps.

"Are you okay?" you whispered harshly. "Are you sick? You look-..."

You could see a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Now, with him leaning up a little, you could see the flush of red tinting his skin, all down his chest and across his cheeks. His shoulder muscles were tight and his wings twitched helplessly beneath him.

"I'm f-fine," Hawks answered, voice low and hoarse. He swallowed roughly. "It's - it's a n-normal side effect."

"You're burning up," you hissed, hands touching his skin so carefully, like you would hurt him if you were too rough. "Are you sure you're okay?" you insisted.

"Just need-" he growled, cutting off as he tried to sit up.

His movement had repositioned your hands, causing them to drag from his shoulders to his chest, less you lose stability and collapse on top of him.

It was a familiar touch, a place you had touched him many times before; yet, he froze suddenly, gaze shifting down to your hands as if they were grounding him to this plane of existence.

Hawks' gold eyes fluttered shut and his pained expression softened. He flopped back on the bed, giving up his attempt to sit up as if he had suddenly lost all strength in his body.

Catching on, you uttered into the cold air, "is that what you need? Keigo, do you want me to-"

"Yes," he answered sharply, hissing through the cold, chilled air. He sounded relieved, thankful that you had offered before he had to ask.

"God, fuck - I - I need you, need to - to - be inside you-"

His babbling briefly ceased when you pushed the blankets off yourself and rolled on top of him, a gesture you had done many times before, now a nearly perfect art.

You watched, hypnotized as Hawks arched his back off the bed and flexed his wings until they were sprawled out on either side of him. The beautiful crimson plumes stretched out across the sheets, shuddering in faint waves that matched his heavy breathings.

In the shift, his cock became pinned against your inner thigh. If you didn't known any better, you would have thought he was prodding you with an iron rod pulled straight from the fires of a forge.

It was unbearably hot, hard as steel and painfully poking against your flesh. You could feel his heartbeat through his cock, throbbing against you as if pleading to be touched.

Arousal had never struck you this hard before, with enough force that it made your never regions throb and chest tighten. Blood rushed to your face so quickly, you briefly feared you would pass out.

Now, hovering, looking down at him, it was almost unbearable. It was clear that Hawks was in pain, and you felt a tinge of guilt at the realization that his state had aroused you.

But, the truth was, he looked stunning.

Maybe it was the red flush staining his skin, or the glisten of sweat, shiny with the reflection of the fire burning in the hearth. Maybe it was the way his gold eyes practically glowed through the darkness, staring up at you like a starving predator, glaring with dangerous intent.

Some sort of inhuman growl escaped him and Hawks grabbed at your meaty hips, roughly pulling you forward. It didn't take you long to figure out what he was doing; but, your attempts to aid were waisted, for he simply dragged you down to his liking, until the heat of your sex collided with his face ungracefully.

The first thing you registered was his mouth kissing sloppily at your sex. His tongue followed, lapping at your folds impatiently before breaching your heat. Hawks was always the kind to give sloppy oral; but, this was something else entirely.

He moaned shamelessly when his tongue registered your taste, hips rising off the bed as if attempting to chase a sensation that wasn't there.

Your hands fall onto the wall, and you tried to keep yourself up; but, he wasn't having it, growling and pulling you back down. It was difficult to not go dead weight when his tongue was lapping at your walls, mouth suctioned around your entrance like he was trying to suck juices from a ripe fruit.

One of your hands weaved through his hair, gently massaging his scalp in a praising gesture. It was difficult to get out sensible words. Instead, you moaned broken pieces of his name, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

You had no idea how much time had passed before he seemed satisfied and finally lifted you up enough to remove his mouth. The wet gasp that escaped him, suggesting he had been holding his breath, riddled you with shameful lust.

"You made a mess," Hawks observed deliriously.

He sounded immensely pleased with himself and even leaned in to take another taste, this time honing in on your pearl. You felt more than heard his pleased chuckle when you whined at the sudden touch.

This time, when he pulled away, he let you retreat. As you shimmied down his body, you caught him wiping your essence off his face with a careful finger before popping it in his mouth.

Hawks' skin was still flushed red, all the way up to his ears; but, now, he looked damn smug to top it all off. You couldn't see the look you were wearing, but you knew by the heat on your face that it was lewd.

The cold of the cabin had been lost to you, especially when you positioned your hips over his and felt the head of his cock nuzzle at your entrance, threatening to breach your core.

Hawks' head fell back into the sheets with a whine, eyes squeezing shut. Tantalized by the sight, you intended to tease him a little; however, he nudged his hips forward with a sudden jerk, effortlessly impaling you on his cock, and taking that opportunity away.

"Ohhh, fuck!" Hawks shouted before sucking his bottom lip beneath his teeth. He released it after letting out a low hiss.

You closed your own eyes for a moment, adjusting to the sudden intrusion of his impressive girth, and felt his hands slowly slide up your thighs into the dips of your hips, slotting over a spot he had practically engraved for himself ever since this began.

When your eyes opened, you looked down and took in the deliriously beautiful look on his face. His thumbs nudged your hip bones pleadingly and his eyes opened, peering up at you through dark lashes.

Forgoing any thoughts about teasing, you planted your hands on his chest and rolled your hips. The motion punched a whine out of him. The sound drawled out into a growl when you kept the rhythm, chasing your own pleasure.

"Yeah," he hummed encouragingly. "Come on. Use me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Just like - ahh - fuck..."

You hardly needed the encouragement; but, the dirty words spewing from his lips further ignited the heat in your belly, and you whined in response.

He could have easily pulled your hips down to intensify the moment. Instead, he lifted his hips off the bed to meet yours, effortlessly matching your movement and chasing the delicious warmth and wetness of your core, while letting his hands hold you gently.

"Baby, do you feel good?" Hawks uttered lowly, his pleading question gently breaking through the moment.

"Y-ye-s, Kei - go," you sobbed, stuttering out your response and groaning halfway through his name.

It was always good; but, something about this moment made it more intense than ever before. You could already feel the sensation rising, thighs trembling every time his cock slid back inside, hitting the perfect spot again and again.

"Yeah?" he hummed, sounding so breathless and fucked out, despite you having just barely begun. "You feel good, so fucking good," he praised between labored pants and low moans.

"You're so fucking good to me," Hawks babbled on, head falling back into the sheets, where he closed his eyes. You watched his adam's apple bob, noticed how tight his jaw was clenched.

A growl vibrated through his chest, followed by a breathless sympathy of curses, "oh fuck - oh fuck. Come on, fuck my cock - yeah - ahhh. Ya' hear that? Those sounds. God, you're so f-fucking perfect."

Your union was loud, skin slapping together and wet, fleshy sounds echoing between the two of you.

His dominant hand released your hip and slid around, thumb prodding between your folds and seeking out your pearl. You were already so sensitive, feeling him so deep, teetering on the edge. When his calloused skin touched that spot, you let out a cry.

"Come on this cock," Hawks groaned. "Sooo close - f-fuck. Come on. Come for me. Fucking come. Gonna fill you up. You want that? My seed. Yeah you fucking d-hnn-"

His babbling ceased when your orgasm took you, the sudden spasms and fluttering of your walls making all sensible thoughts drain from his mind.

His hand returned to your hip, fingers gripping your waist, and he started roughly dragging you up and down to meet his thrusts. You went limp, letting him bounce you on his cock to your liking. Your hands slipped off his chest and you fell onto him, forehead knocking gently against his cheek.

You could hear him huffing and grunting, the occasional growl seeping through, right into your ear as he fucked you through your orgasm, and continued on, chasing his end.

His cock throbbed, firmly enough that you felt it and the sensation startled you a little; but, that thought was lost when he let out an uncharacteristically loud shout, crying out in ecstasy.

Hawks had always been loud; but, this was something else entirely, and the moans and growls didn't stop, along with his undulating hips, for what felt like an eternity.

To top it all off, you could feel it, spurts of his seed, burning hot as it filled you. In the corner of your eye, you could make out his feathers, each and every one trembling beneath him.

Then, finally, he went still.

Hawks' panting filled the room, almost loud enough to drown out the crackling of the fireplace. Even after his panting died down, he let out quiet groans, his orgasm having not yet waned in full.

Eventually, he turned his head and pressed a wet kiss against your cheek. You turned your head to meet him, at first catching the corner of his mouth before he angled his head to kiss you properly.

You could practically feel the praises behind each kiss, thank you's and love pouring from his mouth to yours in a nonverbal gesture. His hands ran up and down your back, massaging your skin but also ensuring that you didn't move and he remained deep inside you.

When he finally released your lips, you busied your hands with his wild mane, gently pushing strands away from his face. He seemed to like the preening, letting his eyes flutter shut and head fall back.

You didn't have to ask if he was feeling better. His all-body, harsh red blush had mellowed out and he wasn't panting like a parched dog.

You hadn't realized you were still trembling until he uttered, "it's okay," in a soothing, worried voice.

His hands shifted to your thighs, where he carefully pushed them back and rolled you onto your side, keeping his cock nuzzled deep. His arms wound around your back, bringing you into an embrace while his wings stretched out behind him before sagging comfortably to the bed.

You realized, as he brought you in, that you were still shaking a little. The worry was evident in his eyes, like he had done something wrong.

"D-do you want me to pull out?" he offered in a weak voice.

"It's not that," you replied softly. "That was... intense."

When your eyes locked with his gold orbs, and he took in the sight of your expression, it seemed to steadily become clear to him, what you were feeling. His lips sought our your skin, senselessly kissing whatever he could reach, all over your cheeks, down your chin and along the expansion of your throat.

Hawks’ head fell onto the pillow and his wispy blonde hair tangled with yours. The unease began to fade away as he held you close, bringing the blanket back over your forms when his intense heat finally started to wane. So did the spell, and something concerning struck him.

"Please, tell me if it gets too intense," Hawks uttered, breath fluttering out against your temple. “I’ll-...”

He cut himself because he wasn’t quite what he would do, what he could do. Could he stop? In this moment of clear thoughts, he sure hoped so. But, part of him feared that wasn’t true, and the last thing he wanted was to lie to you about what he was capable of.

You had figured that he had yet to hit the apex of his rut. Yet, his warnings hadn't frightened you in the slightest, especially after what had just occurred. If anything, you were enticed by it. Maybe, in some strange way, it was affecting you to.

"I can handle you," you promised.

You felt more so than heard the uneasy breath that stuttered out his nostrils. Your words stirred something deep in his gut, overcoming the fear, burning arousal and adoration.

[citrinesparkles]

cat part three.

jason todd x gender neutral, cat lover (or tolerater) reader. 1,066 words. notes: part one here, part two here! (edit: part four here) brief snippets of cat life. warnings: food is discussed, animal illness (but everything ends up fine, i promise)

it was nearly four in the morning when you finally heard the window slide open.

unfortunately, it was accompanied by the sound of him moving- which usually meant he was hurt, too hurt to move silently.

so you set your phone down, climbing out of bed and making your way into the dim living room just in time to see him close the window and- hear his jacket start yelling?

interesting.

"so," you started casually, not bothering to hide your amusement when he stiffened, "your jacket meows now?"

"oh, why aren't you asleep?" he all but whined- which, filtered through his helmet, was not only adorable but also hilarious- falling forwards to gently thump his head against the wall.

"my boyfriend ran late at the office," you teased. "you know how it is."

the jacket meowed again, and he just groaned.

"are you going to introduce me to your guest, or should i pretend i didn't notice?"

he took a deep, slow breath. "fine." he pushed back from the wall, turning to flick on the nearby lamp.

now, you could see the obnoxious bag covered in cartoon pineapples and flamingos slung over his shoulder and his signature leather jacket wiggling slightly in his arms.

he gently shifted the jacket, revealing a tiny, sleepy face.

one that immediately meowed again.

"this is cat," jason said, exhaustion lacing his voice. "a friend asked me to take care of it until it's well enough to go back out into the world."

"cat? really?"

"please don't start."

-

you took cat, setting its litter box up in the corner of the living room while jason took a shower.

cat was tiny and friendly, running its head into your ankles and purring whenever you acknowledged it.

the meowing, loud and persistent, began again as soon as you opened a can from the ugly beach bag.

cat was in desperate need of a bath and a careful brushing, you realized as it ate, but both could wait for the morning. for now, you did your best to make a bed out of spare blankets and get it to drink some water.

-

soon after, jason found you on the living room floor and all but fell into the space next to you.

cat immediately stood up from its makeshift bed and climbed up into his lap.

"i'm not keeping it," he said firmly, dropping his head to your shoulder.

you hummed quietly, watching as he scratched the cat's chin. "so what's the plan?"

"vet tomorrow-" he yawned- "find out what its deal is, get it healthy, figure out somewhere it can comfortably live out the rest of its days." he paused, and the sound of cat's purring filled the space between you. "sorry for springing this on you."

"a warning would have been nice, yeah, but it kinda looked like your hands were full."

"it just wouldn't. stop. meowing." he squished its cheek gently, making you laugh and cat look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "yeah, you. you just don't know how to shut up, do you?"

it meowed.

-

he took cat to the vet that morning, and came back with it- her, you learned- in an actual carrier, along with a bottle of pills and a bag of pill pockets.

"antibiotics," he explained as he opened the carrier and released her into the living room. "she's got some kind of infection. vet said to give her one of these-" a shake of the bottle- "with dinner for two weeks and make sure she drinks lots of water."

two weeks.

yeah, no way he'll ever get attached in two weeks, you thought, watching her jump up onto the couch to glare at him and the carrier.

-

you came home the next day to an obviously recently-deserted living room.

jason's favorite blanket (which, 'coincidentally', cat had also taken a real shining to) was tossed haphazardly over the arm of the couch; a bowl of half-eaten popcorn rested on the coffee table; and a young mark hamill was on tv, frozen in an unflattering pause.

"c'mon, chewie," you heard jason grunt, dragging your attention to the other end of the apartment. "no- ugh, come here already!"

you followed his voice curiously to find him- or, more accurately, his legs- on the bedroom floor.

as soon as you stepped through the doorway, he froze and swore quietly.

"does that mean you named the cat?"

"no, she named herself," he grumbled from under the bed. "kept meowing every time chewbacca started talking- talking, roaring, whatever."

"oh, of course, my bad." you leaned against the doorframe with a smile, arms crossed over your chest. "so where is chewie, honey?"

"hyperspace, last i checked."

"right, right," you nodded, fighting back a laugh. "so what're you doing down there?"

"hopefully avoiding this conversation."

"jason. is the cat under the bed?"

"...maybe."

"and why is that an issue?"

he sighed. "she stole the remote, okay?"

this time, the laugh won.

-

you woke up to an empty bed, jason's quiet voice floating down the hall.

"that's right."

"mrow."

"uh huh."

"mrow."

"you're a genius, truly."

"mrow!" you heard chewie hit the ground, presumably jumping down off of the back of the couch again.

"tuna for lunch. of course. i've never heard a better idea."

you smiled, rolling over and going back to sleep.

-

this time, you came home to a quick note on the counter. it said that jason had run to the store but would be back to make dinner, and there was a small pizza slice doodled in the corner.

it made a little burst of warmth flood your chest, and you plucked the note up to put away for a rainy day.

on the way, you caught sight of his jacket on the couch.

that was interesting. when he wasn't wearing it, it was always hung up carefully, tucked away with the rest of his gear where it wouldn't be stumbled upon unless someone was really looking.

you quickly got an explanation as chewie, curled up into a content donut shape on the sleeve, peaked one smug eye open at you and purred.

interesting, indeed.

you were dating a giant sucker.

[dubersbutt]

Take a Bow (4) - Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,

Warnings: Babies, anxiety/feelings of heightened anxiety, smut

It’s not that Connor hates kids. They just make him uncomfortable.

Like when his aunt had a baby when he was 13 his mom asked if Connor wanted to hold him. Connor was fine when his mom gently placed the baby in his arms. Up until his mom told her to be super careful with his head or else he could snap his neck and kill him. Or if Connor accidently pressed his soft spot it could severely detriment his brain development. It was too much responsibility.

At least that’s what he used to think.

He fell in love with Emilia the minute you walked through the front door with her in the baby carrier. The dogs were excited by the tiny squirming arms inside the carrier, he had to hold Lenny back so he didn’t crush her.

“This is going to sound super cliche,” Connor says as he coos into the carrier where Emilia is trying to open her tiny eyes, “but she is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s a lot cuter now that her head is a normal shape,” you joke, munching on a cookie Connor had set out for you.

“Can you stop making fun of our daughter’s cone head?” Leon rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t see it, it was terrifying.”

(Connor googles a picture of it later. Babies are fucking weird.)

He helps you up the stairs to the waiting cup of tea on the mug warmer in your bedroom. He lets you get settled, handing you the TV remote and giving you a kiss on the forehead before going back downstairs to meet his daughter (step-daughter? Connor didn’t really know).

“Can I hold her?” Connor asks when he finds Leon and Emilia in the living room.

“What happened to the three month rule?” He raises an amused eyebrow.

Connor had created it after the incident. He didn’t hold a baby that was younger than 3 months.

“I’m feeling brave.”

Leon scooches over so Connor has room to sit comfortably. Leon gently places Emilia in his arms, and gives Connor a pillow to prop his arm on. Emilia’s blinks at him before squirming and stretching her little arms over her head. Connor feels all warm and fuzzy in his chest.

“Hello, Emilia,” he says, with a smile on his face, “I’m your other dad.”

~~~

Connor’s not inherently a jealous person.

Or at least he thought he was. But ever since Emilia came home he’s been feeling it. He loves Emilia, don’t get him wrong. Well, actually, he should backpedal for a second.

Connor is still annoyed at Leon.

He knows he should probably bring this up (because look what happened last time) but he hasn’t because Leon was trying to make things right with you. He obviously was trying with Connor as well, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was an afterthought. Some days were better than others, but everytime Connor thought about how he woke up and couldn’t find Leon in the penthouse he felt like puking.

Emilia eases the pain. He truly does love her like his own. The only time he uses the “she’s your kid” card is when it's 2 am and he’s too tired to get up. But he rarely even does that because Connor’s always been the heaviest sleeper out of the three of you. But other than that, he volunteers for bathtime, plays with her while you’re in the shower, he doesn’t even hate changing diapers that much.The puppies love her too, they’ve transitioned from napping on the dog beds in the living room to the spot on the couch closest to the bassinet to keep an eye on them. He regularly has to stop Lenny from trying to jump in and crush Emilia.

Back to Leon (Connor tends to get side tracked when talking about Emilia). Connor’s still annoyed and he’s been working up to talking about it. But it never seems like a good time. First you were pregnant, and Connor didn’t want to upset either of you. Then it was playoffs and Connor didn’t have any time to think about anything else. Then they got swept and Connor did nothing but eat ice cream for a week like he just had his first heartbreak. And after that…well, he just hates confrontation.

He keeps telling himself that he’ll get around to it, that he just wants to gather his thoughts but he knows he’s stalling at this point. Mostly because -

“So did you do what we talked about last session?” Sophie, his therapist, asks him at the beginning of his appointment.

-his therapist calls him on his bulshit. And he realizes that’s the whole reason he pays her, but it’s still rude.

“About that…” Connor trails off.

She gives him an amused smile, “Connor, you know I don’t like telling you what to do but I strongly suggest you talk to Leon.”

“Sophie, my girlfriend gave birth, we started playoffs and got swept all in the last two weeks,” he says with an exasperated sigh, “I deserve a little time for myself. Isn’t that what you told me last week?”

“I was getting to that,” she says.

Connor almost didn’t show up to his first session. He spent the whole ride over that he his therapist would be a quiet homophobe and who’d sell his story to the presses and ruin his life.

But then he went in and saw the framed photo of Sophie and her wife and their twins. He let out a sigh of relief and felt more comfortable telling her about his life. She didn’t even really watch hockey and she told him that he thought he was a “good player” for his age. Connor always has to stop himself from laughing whenever she tries to compliment his playing style. She’s adorable.

“And what about  (Y?N)? Have you thought about what you were going to say to her?”

He knows. He just doesn’t know if you’ll want the same thing.

“I have, a little bit.”

“And would you like to share what you’ve been thinking about?”

“I-uh,” he swallows, “I want another baby?”

“Is that a question?”

“I don’t think so.”

Sophie sends him home with the same homework he had last week: try to slowly figure out what he wants to say when he’s eventually ready to have a talk.

When he comes home, Leon’s standing in the kitchen by Emillia’s bottle warmer. He looks stupid hot holding a baby and Connor’s only mildly annotated about it.

“Hey,” he flashes Connor a bright smile when he notices Connor’s presence, “Can you hold her while I make her a bottle?”

“Sure,” He takes Emilia from Leon before sliding the dimmer down on the light switch. Her eyes slowly open in the dim light and her gumless smile warms Connor’s heart.

“Hello sweet girl,” he coos, watching as she somehow wiggles an arm loose from her blanket, “I love you. I hope you had a good morning.”

He doesn’t expect her to answer, obviously, but she does start to open and close her mouth, indicating she's hungry.

“Leo, you’re too slow,” he taunts playfully, watching as Leon carefully measures out the formula, “she’s starving over here.”

“I can only move so fast,” he laughs.

When Leon finally gets Emilia her bottle Connor relaxes into the dining room chair as she eats her lunch.

“How was therapy?”

Connor told you and Leon that he started going when he came home from his session. Connor didn’t divulge everything that happened in his sessions but it felt nice to have someone ask.

“It was good,” he says, leaning over and resting his head on Leon’s shoulder, “I only cried a little this time.”

Leon chuckles, “Does that mean therapy’s working?”

“Probably.”

~~~

Connor can’t help but laugh when he rewatches the interview of Leon talking about Emilia. He manages to somehow be adorable and sarcastic at the same time. You’re settled against his chest with your ipad resting on your lap and he can feel your giggles as Leon gives his short, glib answers to the journalists' annoying questions.

(Congratulations, she’s very cute.

“I know. She is my daughter after all.”

Your girlfriend’s not going to get mad about that comment?

“She’s gonna get mad if you keep asking questions about her newborn.”)

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen this yet,” Connor says as he runs his fingers through your hair.”

“Neither can I,” you giggle as Leon looks into the camera like he’s on the Office.

Leon rolls his eyes as he emerges from the bathroom, now freshly shaven.

“It’s not that funny,” he says.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Leo,” Connor says, gently hooking his fingers in Leon’s chain to pull him down for a kiss, “You’re very funny.”

“Why did you shave?” you say as Leon turns to give you a kiss, “Your beard looked so good.”

“It was also getting super scratchy,” Connor says.

Leon gets under the covers on Connor’s otherside, “Yeah Emilia’s been distracting me from the beard routine.”

You scoff, “the scratch is the best part, Con.”

“Tell that to the scratch marks on my ass,” Connor says without thinking, and then immediately blushes.

You groan, “Don’t talk about anything remotely sexy when my poor vagina is still healing from pushing out a whole watermelon.”

Leon laughs, “Don’t worry, baby, the beard will be back by the time you get your 6 week all clear.”

~~~

(5 weeks later - after your 6 week all appointment)

“Guess what bitches,” you shout as you enter the kitchen, “I can finally have sex again.”

“Mhm,” Leon hums, feigning disinterest, “And what would you like me to do about that?”

“You’re mean and not funny,” you say lightly hip-checking him, “Besides I have two boyfriends for a reason.”

“Yeah about that,” Connor stretches and yawns, “Emilia kept me up last night so I was gonna take a nap.”

You blink, “I will go to Whyte Av and find some rando to screw in a coat closet, don’t fucking test me.”

Leon grabs your hips and pulls you against his body so your back is flush against his chest before walking forward and pressing your hips into the kitchen counter.

“As if I could pass up the opportunity to fuck this sweet little pussy,” he grinds his hips, pushing your hips further into the counter.

“What have you been cleared for?”

“L-light, non-strenous sex.”

Connor laughs, “Boring, but better than nothing.”

“Davo, take her upstairs,” Leon commands so Connor scoops you up and carries you bridal style to the bedroom.

“Wait wait,” you say when they reach the top, “Where’s Emilia.”

“She’s napping in her crib,” Connor says as he drops you onto the bed, “Leo’s gonna check on her before he comes. So you can turn your brain off for a little bit.”

Connor doesn’t wait to hear your answer, just presses his lips to yours. He fels you moan against him. Connor’s hands slide under your shirt, slowly exposing skin. When he gets it over your head he trails his kisses down your body, unhooking your bra as he does. His kisses move in between your breasts to your belly.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as he kisses your belly button, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

He hooks his fingers on your shorts, pulling them down your legs. He settles himself on the bed as he spreads your legs to press kisses to your inner thigh.

“Perfect,” Connor says, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin.

The tiny hitch of your breath causes all of his blood to rush straight to his dick, but he can’t bring himself to care. He takes his time, warming you up with kisses to your inner thighs, gently scraping his teeth against the skin. He kisses your pussy before running his tongue through your folds. His tongue gently caresses your clit with his tongue. Your hand comes down in his hair when he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your hips start to move against his face, grinding down to give yourself more friction.

“So impatient,” he hums, fucking one finger in you.

“It’s been six whole weeks,” you say,  “I haven’t gone six weeks without sex since I was a virgin.”

Connor chuckles, “Easy baby, we’ll get there.”

~~~

Connor can’t help himself when he sees you changing Emilia’s onesie in her nursery. He walks up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “And good morning to the world’s most adorable baby.”

Emilia gurgles but doesn’t retort. Smh, someone needs to teach her how to be humble.

“Morning,” you reply, buttoning up her fresh onesie, “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he responds with another kiss, “Except when you kicked me in my ribs.”

“I take offense to that,” you raise an eyebrow, “I am an angel in bed. And, yes, pun intended.”

Connor snorts, “We both know that's a lie.”

Both Connor and Leon have been victims of your aggressive sleeping style. One of these days he’s gonna tie all your limbs down, and not in a sexy way. But not in a murderous way either, let’s make that clear. In a Connor-wants-one-singular-night-to-not-get-punched-in-his-sleep way.

Oh god, his brain is rambling. Oh god, he does not want to do this.

“(Y/N),” he says before he can talk himself out of it, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

“About what?” you ask, holding Emilia close as you sit down in the rocking chair.

“I…” Connor has never been this sweaty in his life, “I want another baby.”

“Oh,” you say, indifferent, “Congratulations.”

His brow furrows, “what?”

“On growing a uterus,” you arch an eyebrow, “Because I sure as hell am not using mine again for like 3 years.”

Connor laughs, “I wasn’t saying right away. But, I just want to know if it’s something on the table.”

“I want another baby,” you say, “And as long as you’re willing to wait, I don’t see why it would be an issue.”

~~~

And Connor definitely feels lighter after his talk with you. And he even impresses Sophie by actually doing his homework for once:

“So did you talk to Leon yet?” She asks after he’s finished giving his rundown of his week.

“No,” he says sheepishly, “But I did talk to (Y/N) about having another baby.”

She has the professionalism to not look shocked, but Connor is getting a little better at reading her. Or at least he thinks he is. He still gets anxious whenever she writes things on her notepad, “and how did that go?”

“Honestly, it was better than I expected.”

“How so?”

He shrugs, “I guess I was just expecting the worst?”

“And why is that?”

He shrugs again, “Isn’t that something that you’re supposed to figure out when you psychoanalyze me at the beginning of every session?”

Sophie throws her head back in laughter, “You do know I can’t read your mind right.”

It sure feels like she can sometimes. Which is why he pays her but still, it’s rude. ~~~

Connor thought he was sweaty and anxious before talking to you. However, when it comes time to talk to Leon he also feels nauseous. Like, he might throw up in the kitchen sink again nauseously. But he’s been sitting on this for a few months now - but what if Leon hates him. What if he doesn't want to be with Connor anymore. What if he asks for a trade?

No, Connor’s spiraling. Leon’s a rational person; he's not gonna hate Connor for talking about his feelings, something Leon encourages because Connor tends to bottle things up until he explodes.

But what if-

No. No spiraling, yet.

“Leo,” Leon hums against Connors chest from his spot on the couch next to him, “You still awake?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, “But I was thinking about going upstairs soon.”

Connor shuts the TV off, “Um, actually before that can we...talk?”

Leon sits up and stretches, “What about?”

Connor takes a deep breath, “I think - I think I’m mad at you?”

Leon looks a little confused, and Connor can’t say he blames him, “You think you’re mad at me?”

“I-yeah,” he takes another breath, “I know you’ve been trying really hard to reconcile with (Y/N), and that’s great, and I’m definitely not trying to say I take priority over her, but it kind of feels like you’ve put me on the backburner a bit.”

Leon nods, “How so?”

Connor shrugs, “I mean, when you came back and you apologized it was definitely pointed towards her. And it’s the little things, like you always make what (Y/N) wants for dinner and not me. It feels a little bit like there’s a hierarchy here.”

“Do you...feel this way with (Y/N) too?”

“A little bit,” he says, “But mostly with things concerning Emilia, so it’s not as big of an issue.”

Connor realized he feels a bit…scorned, for lack of a better word. Connor was with you first, and that’s not something he feels jealous about but now it’s all coming up. Connor never left you, Connor was the one who held back your hair and wiped your tears when Leon was MIA. Connor was there, Leon left.

...maybe he did need to talk to you some more.

~~~

Connor and Leon spend a long time talking on the couch before they join you in bed. Eventually, Leon puts his head in Connor’s lap as the conversation turns mundane and they just enjoy each other’s presence. It’s been a while since they’ve done that. They end the night with a little make out session that doesn’t lead anywhere more. It was nice.

The next morning Connor’s on baby duty. Not that he minds, it’s always nice to start his day with a smile from Emilia. He changes her diaper and puts a fresh sleeper on her, listening to the little baby noises she makes. When he’s finished he takes her downstairs to the kitchen where you and Leon are making breakfast.

“Good morning, babe,” Leon says when Connor turns the corner, “Do you want strawberries or blueberries on your french toast?”

Leon was making his favourite breakfast. Connor can’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“And how’s my favourite girl?” he asks, giving Emilia a little kiss on her forehead.

“A pooping machine,” Connor responds to her, and Emilia laughs at him.

“Did she just-?” you get from your spot on the barstool and run to Connor’s side.

“Her first laugh?” Connor says, “Yeah.”

He tickles her belly in an effort to get her to keep laughing, but she chooses that moment to be a stubborn newborn and frowns instead.

He looks at Leon, “She is absolutely your baby.”

“I smiled when I was a baby!”

“No, Leo he’s got a point,” you say in between funny faces, “your mom said she has one baby photo of you smiling because you would refuse to smile for the camera.”

“I was shy.”

“You’re a robot,” Connor says.

“Like you’re one to talk,” you scoff.

~~~

“Connor please,” you pant, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

Connor holds back a laugh, watching the sweat drip down your face, “I thought this is what you wanted?”

“Leo!,” you yell, catching his attention from across the room, “Tell Connor he’s being an ass.”

Leon does not hold back his laugh, “He’s got a point.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting bullied right now.”

Connor wraps his arms around you and pulls you close into his body, “It’s just some squats, baby, it’s not the end of the world.”

“It is when you keep adding weight!”

“Because you’re stronger.”

You just stare at him and, honestly, Connor feels a little scared.

“Tell you what,” he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “If you make it through your sets, without complaining, Leo and I will take turns eating you out tears run down your pretty little face.”

“Promise?” you hold out your pinky.

Emilia’s being babysat by her grandparents so Connor feels no qualms when he links his pinky with yours, “Promise.”

“Promise what?” Leon pipes up from his place on the leg press.

“Connor offered up your body in exchange for squats,” you say, shouldering the bar once more.

“And what did Connor say I would do?”

“You’ll find out,” Connor says, waving a hand at Leon nonchalantly.

“I don’t even get to know how I’m being used as a bargaining chip?”

“Nope,” Connor says with a smile, popping the ‘p’.

~~~

Leon learns what the exact terms and conditions are of the agreement about an hour later. And, just like Connor expected, he does not complain.

He even has the audacity to wink at Connor as he’s tongue-deep in pussy. Ugh, he forgot what the butterflies in his stomach felt like when he’s not constantly annoyed with Leon. He can’t help himself, he gets up from where he was giving his jaw a break, and slides his fingers over Leon’s hole. Leon tenses up ever so slightly, he breaks the momentum he had on you, evident by how hard your ankles are digging into Leon’s shoulders.

“Don’t stop,” Connor grunts, slipping one digit past the rim, “You don’t cum until she does.”

He slides his finger all the way before uncapping the lube and lathering his fingers up and adding a second. Connor knows when he hits Leon’s prostate when He lets out a low groan into your cunt.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you whine, writhing against the sheets.

Leon pushes back on Connor’s fingers at the same time your hips start to grind down feverishly on Leon’s face.

“Make her cum, Leo,” Connor says, removing his fingers from Leon’s ass and teasing his hole once more.

Leon’s focus changes completely. His fingers dig into your hipbones, pulling you closer to him so he has a better angle. Your chest is rising and falling quickly, heaving off the bed when Leon finally sucks your clit. You cum with a shout, tumbling over the edge, pussy clenching around Leon’s tongue.

Connor wastes no time, grabbing Leon’s hips to steady him before spreading Leon's cheeks and swiping his tongue in long, broad strokes. Connor’s not the biggest fan of rimming, but Leon loves it. Leon groans as Connor teases him, starts to rut against the bed when Connor’s tongue dips into his hole, loses it when Connor starts to fuck him open with his tongue. He reaches over to jack Leon off, pumping him as he continues to take him apart. Leon goes limp beneath him, reduced to nothing but moans. Connor speeds up his ministries, revealing in the way Connor’s name falls weakly from Leon’s mouth. Leon bucks hard against the bed, cums with a shudder. Connor takes his hand off Leon's cock, and places it on his own but doesn’t quite relent on his tongue, working Leon through the aftershocks' pleasure. It doesn’t take very long for Connor to cum, finally letting up on Leon and effectively ruining his boxers.

“Aw Leo,” Connor says once he can catch his breath, “We have to watch the duvet cover now.”

~~~

“Where is my baby?” Connor teases playfully when you walk through the door, baby carrier in hand.

“Calm your tits,” you say, placing the carrier on the kitchen counter and allowing Connor to take her out, “She’s home, and just woke up from a nap.”

“I wish I took a nap today,” Connor says as he rocks Emilia in his arms. She gives Connor a toothless smile and Connor just wants to smoosh her.

“Has anyone ever told you, you look really good holding a baby?” Leon says, giving Connor a quick peck on the cheek.

“Good enough to have another baby?” Connor asks.

You roll your eyes, “Two years, Con.”

“I’m just teasing.”

And, yeah, Connor finally starts to feel like he’s home again.