#toddler!skid

[hyuckmov]

himbo haechan pt.2

first part here wc: 12.9k (!!!) genre: fluff, smut, a little angst if u squint warnings: shower sex, unprotected sex, masturbating, just the tip (!), handjobs, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, fingering, softdom/sub dynamics (haechan doing both), being ignored during sex (!!!), aftercare, creampie a/n: thank u for loving himbo haech and thank you for being patient with me :) this fic took me so long because i originally wasn't going to have a plot, but piecing together scenes didn't feel like it was a sincere effort for how much i loved himbo haech so i tried my best to do more <3 this MIGHT be the tamest thing i've written, if you followed me for filth i promise i will make it up to you in another fic LOL let me know what u think, i hope this is hot, and i really hope you like this !!!

haechan thinks he'll never forget the first time he meets you. 

for him, time slowed and there was no other explanation. his heartbeat rushed loud in his ears, a warm glow spread all throughout his body to the tips of his fingers. you had walked into the living room of the house party, angrily mouthing off someone who had spilled his drink on your sleeve, your voice traveling over to him over the undercurrent of the music blasting from the speakers, and he loved it. the sting of your tone, the way your chest rose and fell, the flush in your cheeks. 

he wanted to stand by you as close as he could and watch each shade of emotion flicker in your eyes, he wanted to hear the ring of your voice through your chest, he wanted every bit of your attention directed at him. for once in his life, he didn't just want to touch — he wanted to hold. 

"renjun…" he whispered, voice reverent and hushed like he was in a church. "i'm in love."  

"um…renjun left an hour ago…?" jaemin shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, leaning over haechan and waving his hand in front of his face. "i've been talking to you for the past 10 minutes about next week's hockey game…" 

absentmindedly, haechan grabs jaemin's wrist and pulls his hand away from his face, eyes still focused on the way you storm towards the kitchen. "okay renjun." 

he sees you walk out, a fresh drink in one hand, the other arm hooked around some guy who he's now forced to acknowledge. but he's nothing compared to haechan, and haechan knows if he tries, if he could just walk over to you, talk to you, get to know you… 

"haechan, no." and now mark has swooped into his vision, what was he doing here? grabbing him by the shoulders, mark speaks loudly and slowly to haechan, as if he was scolding a very small toddler. "she has a boyfriend." 

who? "um…" his brain skids through potential responses, but he can't make sense of anything mark is saying. "sorry to hear that…" he mumbles. 

"this is not the time to be snarky." 

where were you now? eyes searching for you over mark's shoulders, he tries to keep up with the conversation. "if you say so, mark."

"jaemin, what's wrong with him? is he drunk?" 

"i'm fine, mark–" impassioned, he grabs mark by the forearms, catching him off guard. haechan stumbles to his feet, patting his pockets for his phone, so he can save your number when he gets it, eyes sweeping the room again and finally spotting you as you step into a corridor leading off from the living room. even though his legs just aren't moving, his heart thunders in his chest in a way it hadn't for a long time, a thrum he couldn't keep up with. 

his stomach twists when he realises there’s only one explanation for how he feels towards you, as if he was on a rollercoaster about to tip over — a messy tangle of nerves and excitement all at once. 

"mark, i think i've found the one." 

x

"i can't believe i really get to hold you like this…" he murmured, in awe. 

haechan said something along these lines practically every time you cuddled in the evenings, and the words never faded in their sweetness. lost in his own thoughts, he stroked your hair with slightly shaky hands, and placed a gentle kiss to your temple. "i keep thinking i'm going to blink, and then the next second you'll be yelling at me again…" 

you feel a twinge of guilt, and you're just about to apologize when —

"…but also, i kind of miss that too…" 

there it was.

"do you want me to pretend to get mad at you?" you suggest, smiling a little as you climb on top of him. there's something reverent in the way he tilts his head up, never breaking eye contact as his hands instinctively come up to grip your waist and steady you. "or you could make me mad on purpose?"

"wouldn't be the first time…" he mumbles, the familiar cloudy look making its way into his irises, his gaze now unfocused and dazed as his eyes flick up and down your body. 

"really?" 

he nods. "never actually deleted our project, didn't actually submit a draft for the final assignment, didn't really lose your underwear…" 

a laugh rises up in your throat, half part incredulous and the other hopelessly endeared. 

"if you want me to be rough with you, next time, just ask me," you promise him, patting him on the chest lightly. 

"i mean…i keep thinking i want you to get mad at me, so we can fuck like we used to…" he scrunches his nose in thought, lowering his gaze. “but i just… there’s just…”

"but…?" 

"but also i really like making love to you," he whispers. "i love it so much, and i feel like, because we're at the start of our relationship it means more.” holding your hands in his now, he gives them a light squeeze. “and i don’t want to ruin that, you know?”

 your breath hitches in your throat, and all of a sudden you don’t know what to say. 

"does that make sense?" he asks, softly. "did i say something wrong?" 

“haechan….” you’re convinced your heart has melted in your chest, tears threatening to fall from your lashes from how raw and intimate he could be with his words. love was so easy to him, and he showed you time and time again that he wouldn’t change. “i love you so-”

“- so should we try shower sex?” 

you're speechless.

"from your lack of response, i'm guessing no… but-!" eagerly, he picks up his laptop from the side table, and holds it up so you can see the screen, covering his face all except for the puppy-eyes he's giving you. "look! having shower sex twice a week can reduce the risk of heart diseases by 50%!"

"haechan…"

"we have to do it!" he's so excited he drops his laptop on the bed to hold your hands in his, rubbing your fingers gently as he bounces with excitement. "so we don't get heart disease!"

"i don't think…"

"it also increases mindfulness because it engages all 5 of your senses…" he continues, words coming out in a rehearsed rush, and you can tell he's been researching this topic for a while. "didn't you tell me i should try being more mindful?" 

"i kind of meant it more like mindful of your surroundings…" you frown a little. "you still bump into people almost every time we turn a corner on the street…" 

"see, we just said the exact same thing," he breathes. "please?" 

and although you think you should be desensitized to him already, it still catches you off guard when he sits up to lean in closer. the swell of his lips, the flush shining on the tip of his nose and dusting his cheeks whenever he got excited. it shouldn't affect you, the lights reflected in his eyes, the way they're misty for god knows what reason, and the knowledge that if you asked why, his answer would be that it's because he loves you, so so much.  

"haechan…"

"i'll be really gentle…" he says, softly. rubbing hesitant circles on your bare waist with his thumb, he dips his head a little to hold your gaze. "i promise. i'll take care of you."

the words go straight to your gut, a sharp sting ringing high in your nose bridge as you feel a slight prickle of tears in your eyes. he's still looking at you with those eyes you fell for, gentle and patient, the same voice that always soothed and comforted you, with an undertone of fierce devotion that you craved.

melting into his arms, you tuck your head into the curve of his neck. your voice is shaky when you speak. "i'm about to cry," you grumble. "and we're just talking about shower sex." 

his laugh vibrates against your chest — the sound is warm, and it feels like home. "i'll take care of you," he repeats in a whisper, lips pressed against your hair. 

x

it really is every bit as sweet as he promised, when you find yourself pressed against the shower wall, strong arms lifting you up as he kisses you fiercely. 

"is this okay?" he murmurs, rutting against your core in rough pulses. "this way you don't have to focus on not slipping…" 

"yeah…" you gasp as he pushes you against the wall again, adjusting his grip on your thighs. the muscles in his arms tense, and the veins leading down to his fingertips are prominent under his skin. it's so unbelievably hot, the way his chest heaves with need, the soft whine in his breath as the tip of his cock catches against your entrance. 

"i can't wait," he blurts out, forehead pressing against yours as he rubs his cock against your wetness again, the blunt tip nudging against your clit and making you cling onto him tighter. "do you want me to prep you some more or… or can i…" 

you shake your head. "want you now," you tilt your head to kiss him and he surges towards you eagerly, suckling on your bottom lip hard, desperation heavy in the way he licks into your mouth. 

"i'm sorry, i love you, i'm sorry, you're so good to me…" he murmurs, pushing into you with a stretch that makes you tense. his hand soothes down your back, and he shifts you against the wall again. "fuck, i'm sorry baby, just a bit more…" your walls are tight and warm around him, sucking him in as he tries not to buck his hips into you, trying to be as gentle as he promised, mumbling apologies into your skin. 

the steam of the shower coiling around your skin and the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriend was almost too much to bear. thighs clamping around him, your mouth falls open as you grip onto his neck for support, fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck. and now he's whimpering, his hips jerking forward and suddenly you're taking all of him, filled to the brim by his thick cock. 

murmuring another apology, he licks shyly at your neck and presses a kiss to your sweet spot, marking your skin. his nose bumping against the curve of your neck making your heartbeat race, a sweetness you can't quite explain. 

"haechan, please move-" 

"i…" he swallows, lifting his head to face you. his pupils are blown out, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers tentatively stroke the side of your thigh. "fuck, baby, you have to relax." 

"i can't if you don't move-"

"i'm gonna cum if you keep squeezing around me like this," he admits, a small whimper escaping from the back of his throat when you only clench around him harder from his words. "please…" he freckles kisses down your throat, hand rubbing soothingly up your lower back as he pins you to the wall with his hips. slowly, you begin to relax into your position, his touch comforting you and slowing your heart rate down. 

"good girl," he praises, softly, with a kiss on your nose. 

your heart soars. 

he pushes forward, slowly setting a rhythm as he angles his hips deeper, closing his eyes as he melts into the feeling. his tip presses against a spot which makes you whimper, each vein and ridge of his length dragging against your walls and pushing you closer to the edge. your clit aches at the feeling of being stretched out, and you reluctantly take one hand off his shoulders to rub yourself with careful fingers. his hips stutter as you tighten around him again with your own movements, and it only spurs him on to chase both your highs faster. 

you start sliding down the wall, smooth tiles warm against your back from the water, but he's too far gone to care – shoving you carelessly higher as he thrusts harshly into you, eyes fluttering open to see the way your tits bounce from his movements, water droplets running down your curves and almost bringing tears to his eyes. 

"i wanna touch," his sounds rising in pitch, scratchy moans broken up by jumbled words and curses. "more, want more…" he jerks away one of his hands holding you up to palm at your chest, but you start to slip and he's forced to hold you up again. he's so frustrated he's half groaning, half begging. "please cum, want you to cum on me…"

you can't help the laugh that bubbles from your throat. "are you begging?" 

"YES-" he moans, loudly, the sound echoing through the bathroom, booming against the backdrop of running water. 

you laugh again, the hand slick at your clit sliding over to his mouth, tips of your fingers brushing his soft lips, and then he's cumming, warm and hot inside you, hips relentless as he all but fucks you into the wall, hands cushioning your hips yet gripping you in a way that would leave bruises of their own. the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you making you cum as well, thighs wrapping around his waist like a vice, body hypersensitive, feeling every single rivulet of water running down your skin. 

it's a while before you both drift back to the present moment, as he seems frozen in his position, chest heaving and eyes unfocused. 

as he lets you slide down to stand on your own two feet, his arms still holding you slumped against him, he groans low in his chest. 

"next time, we're doing this in the tub." 

x

part of being with haechan is getting to know his friends, which is why you're currently sitting in between haechan's legs, in a circle with them around a monopoly board as renjun complains about for what feels like the thousandth time. 

"this is so unfair," renjun grumbles, as he shoves a few paper bills in haechan's direction, crumpling them in the process. 

"the rent is $200. you only gave me $10." 

"i don't HAVE $200–" 

"then drink." haechan pushes the bottle towards him. "one shot for every $50 you owe me," he reminds him, smiling triumphantly. 

it was something jaemin and haechan had thought up together. a drinking game infused with monopoly, where no players would ever go bankrupt, as long as they kept drinking for the money they owed. 

as well as a shot whenever you passed go, whenever you bought a property, and a dozen other random rules designed to make everyone pass out before the night ended.

"haechan always wins," renjun jabs a finger at him accusatorily. "because he always gets y/n's help when the game starts —" 

"how is it my fault for having a smart girlfriend?" 

"if anything," jaemin chimes in, more for the fun of it than the actual argument. "you should pass her around each round, so we all get one chance at winning." 

haechan narrows his eyes, brows furrowed in suspicion. "is that a double entrée?"

"you mean double entendre," you mutter. 

"yeah, what she said." 

"you two need to relax," jaemin waves a hand in the air, dismissively. "no one wants to fuck your girlfriend." 

"why not?" 

"you're impossible." 

"but –" renjun hiccups, finishing the last of the soju. "it's also unfair that the more haechan drinks, the more rational he becomes. why do we still play drinking games with him? if we played monopoly sober—" 

haechan boos him vehemently, and jaemin joins in happily, switching sides in a heartbeat. 

"- haechan wouldn't stand a chance. he'd still be asking me what direction you went in on the board–" 

"that was my first time," he mumbles, self-consciously. you pat him on the shoulder, soothingly, and he takes the opportunity of renjun now yelling at jaemin, to study your face, brushing your hair away from your eyes. 

"are you okay? do you want some water?" 

your pause before answering is all he needs. truthfully, you tapped out after the third time haechan passed go, letting him take the reins as the excessive alcohol miraculously cleared his head. the more you drank, the more you craved skin-on-skin contact with him, getting spacey and quiet. haechan loved it, feeling you pliant and a little needy in his arms, but it worried him just as much when you couldn't bicker back and forth with him. 

helping you to your feet, he hooks his arm in yours and shuffles towards the kitchen, not even bothering to wave to jaemin and renjun, who were at that point heatedly dividing their assets over the game board. 

haechan pours a cup of water for you, his hands moving sure and steady under the fluorescent lights as he holds it up to your lips. you reach out to hold it yourself, but he stops you with a hum, tilting it up to your lips.

"i don't want you to drop it," he says, fondly. "take a sip?" 

feeling shy under his gaze, you drink carefully, dribbling some onto your chin when he lifts the cup too early. 

"messy baby," he teases, softly, his thumb brushing your lips as he wipes your chin carefully. 

 now you're sure the feeling in your stomach is not nausea from the alcohol, but the need to have your boyfriend pressed up against you right that second. a whine rises from the back of your throat – a habit you'd picked up from him, and you bury your face in his chest, making him laugh. the sound is deeper and warmer than you'd ever heard it, buzzing against your ear and making your chest fill with butterflies. you've never seen him like this. something authoritative in the way he guides you towards the kitchen counter, coaxing you to take another sip of water as he looks at you lovingly. 

"you should go to bed soon." sliding his phone out from his back pocket, he flashes his lockscreen at you – a photo of the two of you, taken on jaemin's film camera. 

distracted, you blink up at him. "why?" 

"you have that essay due tomorrow?" mindlessly drawing circles on your waist, he looks deep into your eyes, hoping you're really listening. "you told me you were almost done, but i know you always manage to find some way to make it more complicated…and your proofreading always takes hours…" 

it's a little hot, how clear-headed and coherent he was being, in the dead of night after rounds and rounds of drinks. fuck that, it was making you feel dizzy, the way he slid his palm onto your forehead to check your temperature when you don't respond.

"baby? are you with me?"

"renjun was right…this is so unfair," you mumble. "did you secretly stay sober or something?" 

"i'm hammered, actually." smiling, he takes his own sip of water from the cup. "can't you tell?" there's something tender in that moment, as the tip of his nose brushes against yours, as he pulls you closer and you can smell his fabric softener on the oversized shirt he's wearing. the faint perfume he wears fills your senses, and he smells so good, and his arms are so firm around you…

"haechan," you're a little breathless. "i need you." 

"what?" 

your hands fumble with his shirt, sliding underneath it to touch the bare skin of his waist, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

"fuck." he lowers his head, eyes closing as he takes a shuddering breath. "not right now, baby." 

"i know, i mean when they leave –" 

"i mean not today. not while you're this drunk, i'm sorry –" at the look on your face, he presses a quick kiss to both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and finally your mouth. "i'm sorry," he repeats, softly. "it doesn't feel right." 

"i thought you wanted –"

"trust me, i do…" he bites his lip, and now he takes a step away from you, trying not to let the feeling of you in his arms affect his judgement.  "you have no idea how much i want to." 

"so –" 

"but not like this," he says, firmly. "i don't think we're ready for it right now. hey –" you're pulling away from him too, now trying to leave the kitchen. "i'm still going to help you take off your makeup and get undressed —" 

"yeah?" 

"and then we're going to go to bed." he pleads with you with his eyes. "i'll do everything with you in the morning, after you're done with your assignment, okay?" 

a beat. 

"y/n…" sternly, he tilts your chin up to look him in the eye, and it makes you shrink a little, but god it makes you want him more. "okay?" 

sullen, you nod. 

"use your words." 

fuck. "okay," you breathe, meekly, even though every impulse in your body is making you want to pull his body into yours. somewhere in the haze of your mind, you still can't shake the way his broad shoulders look under the light as he guides you out of the kitchen, your hand held tightly in his. 

x

the gentle morning light and the silence of your apartment is comforting, as you sip your drink and wait for the pain in your head to subside. 

after haechan had rejected you, he had kicked out renjun and jaemin, bringing you to bed immediately. wiping your skin with makeup wipes, and kissing you to ward you off as your hands kept wandering to him was probably the most torture you had ever put him through. you almost felt bad when you realised you truly couldn't spend time with him today either, your mind clearing and focusing on the assignment that haechan rightly pointed out you still had to complete. 

so when he slinks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, you lean into his touch instinctively, curving your body into his. 

it's also why his sudden gasp makes you jump. 

"what–" 

"angel…" he's starry-eyed, voice hushed and reverent as he gently brushes the underside of your boobs with his fingers. "are you not wearing anything under this shirt?" 

it was as if the him from last night had completely evaporated. "um, yeah…" 

"did i do something good?" his big hands shamelessly cup your breasts, squeezing them together as he sighs. "is this a reward?" 

"i mean…you were really responsible last night…" 

hopping up happily against the kitchen counter and sandwiching you between his legs, he kisses you on the mouth sweetly, barely able to contain his smile. "i love you," he whispers against your lips, hands roaming up your shirt and teasing over your nipples. "we're going to have so much fun today." 

"about that…" you place your hands over his own through your shirt, halting his movements. "you can't fuck me today, i'm sorry." 

he lets out a dramatic, betrayed gasp, heart-shaped lips parting and eyes glistening with hurt. "why would you say that?" 

you blink. "because it's true…?" 

"are you…are you finally sick of me…?" his hands drop from under your shirt, tracing a sad circle with his fingertip on his toned thighs. "of my cock?" 

"haechan, it's 8 in the morning." 

"is it your vibrator? has it replaced me?" 

"this has nothing to do with you —" 

"YOU'RE FUCKING RENJUN?" 

you wind your fingers into his hair and tug, harshly. 

it's not your favorite trick, you admit, because the reaction was always 50/50. he would get either even more distracted, or focus up and listen to you — even if for the purpose of discerning when you would be down to fuck next. 

today he lets out a quiet moan, head falling to your shoulder as his hands find your chest again.

"first the shirt, now this —" he mumbles, gloomily. "you're evil." 

"i'm busy." you push at his shoulders so he'll straighten up and face you, but his face is still resolutely nuzzled against your neck. 

"you're always busy," he bites back, frustrated. "last week, and the week before that, and the week before that." 

"yeah, because i go to college?" you remind him. "and you do too?"

"but can you really not spare 20 minutes?" he whines, lifting his head to look at you with hurt eyes. 

there's a pause, as he takes a deep breath. 

"i'm sorry —" 

"no, it's okay," he mumbles. "i shouldn't be pressuring you." biting his lip, he leans in again, resting his weight on yours. 

"how long will you be gone today?" he asks, quietly. 

"i'll be staying at home," you comfort him. 

"i can keep you company," he says, quickly. 

"haechan –" 

"i won't even distract you," he continues, his words a sharp contrast from how his pouty lips brushed your skin, casually starting to pepper kisses under your jaw. his voice dips low when he adds, "i can be good." 

"right." your focus has been ripped to shreds as his movements grow more needy, his touches on your chest making you arch into him for more. when his thumb circles your nipple, teeth biting down gently on the sweet spot on your neck, you can't help letting out a whimper, slumping against him just slightly as your knees start to feel weak. 

he laughs at that, finally straightening and pulling away from you. 

"yeah," he says, proudly. "there's no way you're sick of me and my cock."

x

a few hours later, all his bravado had completely melted away, the signature whine coming back to his voice.

"not done? still?"

"you're stressing me out." 

behind you, the boy lets out a wounded sound. "but i even got you those resources from the library…" 

"those were really helpful," you concede. you didn't know he had it in him, but apparently all the sessions you'd spent together in the library really paid off. "i just have a bit more to write."

the first hour, he'd been content with lying on the bed and watching you work at your desk. the second hour, he moved the whole desk closer to the bed, – almost breaking a lamp in the process –, so he could hold your hand and play with your fingers when you were scrolling through research articles. 

he dozed off when you had to type – a hand splayed firmly on your thigh, and when he woke up, eagerly pulling you towards the bed and hands already teasing under your waistband, you had quickly asked him if he could go to the library to get you a book that could help. 

which led you to where you sat now, between his spread legs in front of the coffee table, his hands holding your boobs as you struggled through your last few paragraphs.

"i'll wait," he says, softly, arms now falling to your waist as he pulls you in for a hug. you lean back on his chest, but you're surprised when he starts to stand, untangling himself from you and gently placing a pillow behind your back for support. 

you feel a little pathetic when you ask, "where are you going…?"

"i don't want to distract you, baby." he squats down and places a kiss on your cheek, his other hand caressing your face. "i'll wait for you in our room, okay?"

"okay…" you say, watching him shuffle to the bedroom, feeling that the room lost a bit of its energy. 

without haechan, you can focus a lot better, and you almost guiltily speed past the rest of your project, feeling bad for neglecting him. you don't even bother to check your writing again as you're submitting it, all your thoughts now concentrated on your boyfriend, alone in his room, waiting patiently for you to spend time with him. 

placing your laptop on the table, you make your way down the hallway, thinking about maybe being extra sweet to haechan as a thank you for being so supportive today, when your footsteps falter and you stop just outside your bedroom. 

because seeping out of the door are sounds of crying, choked sobs and whimpers of your name muffled but unmistakable. 

was he that upset? the forlorn expression on his face resurfaces his mind, the way his voice went quiet, how he begged that he could be good for you. maybe it wouldn't have hurt to indulge him a little in the morning — judging from the time now, you still probably would have made your deadline. 

"haechan?" you knock, hesitantly, but there's no reply, only a low, pained sound of…frustration? sadness? it worries you, so you push open the door gently, eyes immediately darting to the bed where he lays on the sheets.

and you freeze. 

because unlike the weepy, sad, haechan you had imagined, you're faced with something completely different – haechan, shirtless, leaning against the headboard, his legs twitching on the bed as he strokes his cock fast, hips bucking up into his fist as he throws his head back and moans loudly, cum splattered over his bare torso telling you he was overstimulating himself, again.

for how well you know him, you really should have seen this coming.

"i'm sorry, baby," he whimpers, hand still moving slowly despite being caught, and you can see how red he is all over — flushed cheeks and ears, the tip of his cock peeking out from his hand. "i wanted to be good for you, but i just- couldn't- wait…" 

crossing over to the bed, you sit by his side and look him in the eyes, his hand speeding up as he pants, looking back at you. 

"you like me that much? that you could cum just from thinking about me?" 

"yeah," he moans, his other hand now teasing his own nipple, pinching it and rolling it with his fingers. "c-can cum just from, looking at you, even if you're not d-doing anything…" 

"then you don't need me now, right?" 

"no –!" his clean hand darts out to grab onto your wrist, his other halting and squeezing the base of his cock, trying not to cum. "please, i need you so bad, want you to help me…" 

you sigh, pulling away from him. "i don't know, i'm not really in the mood right now," you lie. 

"please," he begs, trying to shuffle closer to you, but you back away. "i need to be inside you right now…" 

"but i'm still sore from last time. it hurts." you try to act like none of this is getting to you, but it's way too difficult, especially when haechan finally manages to kiss your neck, shuddering against you as his other hand gives a careful stroke. 

"what about just the tip?" he pleads, voice small. 

you roll your eyes. "as if you could be satisfied with just the tip –" 

"i'll be good…" he whines, softly. "just the tip, okay? just really need to feel you right now…it'll just be a bit of a stretch…" 

"you won't bottom out?" 

"no," he shifts uncomfortably, his hand squeezing tighter around the base as the thought of being in you, even just the tip, brings him closer to cumming than he would like. "i'll fuck you with just the tip, i promise." 

you barely give him the okay before he's tugging impatiently at the waistband of your barely-there shorts and panties, groaning loudly when his fingers drag through your folds. 

"you're killing me," he pants, shaky fingers rubbing your clit. "i'm gonna make you cum first, okay?" 

"just-" you try to keep your voice level, but when he slips a finger into your hole, your body crumples against his. "just make me cum on your cock –" 

"baby, i want to…" his lips are soft against yours, as he consoles you with short kisses. "but i might cum way too fast if i fuck you right now." 

"with just the tip," you remind him, biting back a moan when he slips in a second finger and starts making scissoring motions. 

"yeah, you want to be stretched out, hm?" he smiles when he feels you clench tighter around his fingers. "you don't mind if i don't fill you up?" 

internally, you start to curse yourself, because fuck you do want him to fill you up. "i don't mind…" you say, weakly, focusing instead on the way he was circling your clit as he crooks his fingers against your walls. 

"so warm and tight," he groans. "you're close, right?" 

"yes–" 

his movements on your clit speed up and your hips buck into his hand, grinding against his fingers. "fuck, that's so hot." his lips wrap around your nipple through your shirt, and you moan as he sucks wetly, lips brushing your chest as he speaks. "you look so pretty riding my fingers, baby." 

you tumble headfirst into your orgasm, body shuddering against his when he applies a sinful pressure against your clit, the way he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes too much to bear. he pulls his fingers out from between your legs, immediately sticking them in his mouth and sighing at the taste, his other hand caressing your hip soothingly. 

"lay down for me," he coaxes, touch gentle as he maneuvers your legs around his waist. running the tip of his cock through your soaked cunt, he lets out a shaky moan, tones rising dizzyingly higher as he presses against your entrance. 

"haechan…" you plead, as he nudges your clit with his cock, making your hips jolt.

he reaches out to squeeze your hand. "i'm right here," he murmurs, kissing your fingertips lightly as he brushes your hole with the pink head of his cock. his words make your chest flutter in a way that has nothing to do with the ache between your legs. "i'm here," he repeats, softly, as he slowly slips the bulbous tip of his cock into you, and you can feel yourself clench tight around him, sucking him in further despite his efforts to pull out. 

"can you cum like this?" his tone is still soft as he reaches to rub your clit, applying light pressure, fingers slipping from how wet you were. "because, i think i can cum like this, feels so sensitive…" he wags his hips a few times, feeling the head of his cock move inside you, and he moans weakly. "is this what you wanted, baby?" 

your legs clamp tight around his waist, trying not to move your own hips, focusing on his shallow thrusts and the slight pain of the stretch. in truth, you wanted him to push deeper into you, craving both the way his thick cock always made you feel full, and the feeling of him pressing you into the bed under his weight. you just had to hold out until he started begging for more. 

"feels so good, haechan," you praise, and he flushes, rubbing your clit even faster as he moves against you. 

"you don't-" he pants. "are you sure you don't want more? you're okay with this?" his voice sounds almost hopeful.

you nod again, tugging him towards you for a kiss, the slight shift in his position making his cock slide deeper into you. he moans low against your lips, breaking away quickly and pulling out entirely. "fuck, sorry–" 

but then he's shoving himself back into you roughly, going past the tip and sinking deep into your cunt as he lets out a satisfied groan, and you can feel his hips flush against yours as he covers you with his body. kissing you harshly, his tongue strokes the roof of your mouth as he moans again, hips now thrusting fast into yours, wet sounds filling the room as he pushes deep into you each time. 

"haechan!" 

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he gasps, although his hips are relentless against yours, hands pushing your thighs up so he can reach deeper into you, "i couldn't, you're so fucking wet and tight and warm –" you can feel him throb inside you as he fucks you, riled up by his own thoughts. "wanted to feel you all over me…" 

his angles his hips again, searching for your soft spot, holding your body tight against his. when he feels you tighten around him, back arching and nipples brushing against his in a way that makes electricity run down his spine, he bucks into you, your sounds in his ear telling him you were reaching your high. 

after being teased with his tip, you much appreciated the feeling of him being sheathed deep inside you, his cock nudging your sweet spot and making you clench harder around him each time. when his fingers find your clit again, it only takes a few seconds before you're cumming hard around him, feeling slick on your thighs with the force of your orgasm. seeing your cum form rings of white on his cock makes him whimper, and your lips brushing against his skin is all it takes for him to cum too, soaking your walls and making you hiss at the sensitivity. 

you lie there for a moment, basking in the feeling of him lying against you, feeling too tired and filthy to move. stroking his back tenderly, you notice his breathing doesn't even out as it usually does, and when you feel hot tears on your shoulder you jolt, alarmed. 

"haechan, what's wrong?" 

"did i hurt you?" he sniffles, lifting his weight off of you so he could check on your body. "i'm sorry, i know i promised just the tip, you said you were sore…" 

your heart flutters in your chest as he pulls out, wiping between your legs gently with his shirt even as tears run down his cheeks. "i d-didn't mean to hurt you…" he breathes. he closes your legs carefully, before running his hands over your thighs. "are you okay? please say you're okay…" 

"haechan, i'm fine, really,"  you sit up to reach him, but he quickly stops you, laying a hand on your shoulder.

"you should rest-" 

"haechan i was just…" you place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers in a reassuring manner. "i was just teasing. i wasn't actually sore." 

a sniffle. "really?" 

"yes, of course –" you squeeze his hand. "thank you for taking care of me." 

it takes a little more reassurance and a lot of kissing to get him to smile, as he prepares a hot bath for you, skidding off to the kitchen to make something for dinner. you eat dinner while cuddling with him in front of the television, your legs in his lap as he pours wine for the both of you, the glasses he bought to 'look smarter when i'm with you' slipping down his nose as he focuses his gaze on your lips for a little too long, watching your tongue dart out as you taste the wine. 

it's times like these – with his arms around your waist and his eyes never leaving yours as you tell him the most trivial thing about your day, — where you cannot imagine ever living a life before you were loved by him, and the very thought of a universe where the two of you couldn't speak to each other was enough to make your breath catch in your throat, and make your chest feel tight. 

"you okay?" he takes the wine glass from your hand, brushing his lips against yours softly. only haechan would think that kissing you would be a way to get you to focus.

"i'm thinking too much," you admit, leaning into him and pressing your cheek against his. 

"about…?" a kiss on your nose. 

when you looked at him again, your worries did seem to fall away. it didn't ever seem possible that he would fall out of love with you, or even think about replacing you, what with the way he was holding you so carefully, eyes doing that deep dive into your own that always left you feeling naked and vulnerable.

"i hate it when i can't read your mind," he murmurs, a little sadly. "i wish i had some way of knowing the right thing to do, all the time, whenever it comes to you." 

"i think you do," you say, softly, meaning every syllable of it. 

"okay…." he tilts his head to the side, thinking hard, lips jutting out into a sweet pout. "i think the right thing to do now…because you're overthinking things…"

you encourage him with a hum. "maybe we can make some tea –" 

" — i think i should fuck you stupid." 

a pause. 

"haechan…" 

"yeah i know, my idea is better." 

and scooping you up into his arms, he carries you, laughing, all the way to the bedroom, and you can admit that after that things do start to get a little blurry, your mind filled with nothing but him, and him, and him.

x

but haechan makes you feel so loved, that you almost forget the whole world is in love with him too. 

it's equal parts of annoyance and jealousy that stings at your chest when you see haechan surrounded at the back of the lecture hall, a group of girls forming a circle around him as he sits on the table, showing them something on his phone and kicking his feet restlessly like a little kid. was he giving them his number? 

"it's been like this every time i've picked him up from this lecture this past two weeks," you mutter to renjun. 

"ooh, i wonder how many of them he's slept with…" he muses at your side, his tone way too cheery. he had followed you as you made your way to pick haechan up from class, wanting to ask him something about the party happening that evening. "i think i recognise a few of them…" 

"renjun, i hope you know that i don't trust you. at all." 

"but i'm his best friend-" 

"you told me to pull on his hair to shut him up and he moaned-" 

"and look where you are now," he folds his arms triumphantly, a smug smile on his face. "happily celebrating your 2nd month with him." 

"to think that all i asked for was advice on how to shut him up," you mumble, but you still feel a warm glow in the tips of your fingers anyway. you always do, when you're reminded of how far you've come with haechan. 

a loud chorus of cooing and giggling comes from the corner of the hall, and you're sharply brought back to the present moment. 

"renjun…" you hesitate, wondering if it's exactly right to be asking this. "has haechan really…um…" 

"fucked a lot of girls?" renjun finishes your question. "how else do you think he gets so good at it?" 

your skin feels hot. "oh." 

renjun looks at you knowingly. "don't compare yourself to them, you know he doesn't do that." 

"doesn't he…?" you wonder out loud. the girls surrounding haechan were in a league of their own, pretty and confident in all the ways you weren't. you had never quite been with someone like haechan before, someone so well-known on campus, and in turn knew everyone's names and faces. you wanted to believe your differences were something sweet, an opposites attract situation where you always brought the balance he needed and could feel safe in, but a part of you would always wonder about whether he would ever get tired of it. 

"he hasn't talked about any other girl, past or present, since he's met you," renjun reassures, softly. "he really thinks you're the one." 

you think about haechan now, and you try to imagine how it would be like with someone else — his world revolving around them, the look of adoration in his eyes. it gives you a bitter taste in your mouth with how easy it is to imagine. "has he really never thought that about anyone else before?" 

renjun takes a moment to think. "if he has, he hasn't told us." 

and if you were honest with yourself, you don't know if that's enough to ease your mind. 

x

"well, i was thinking i would get this…" 

a loud chorus of nos erupts all around him, and he furrows his brow, a pout forming on his lips. 

"why not?" 

"it's a bracelet that's meant to lock in your love," karina warns. 

"so?" 

"it's possessive and claiming," karina advises, and the girls around her nod in agreement. "it's like a message saying – 'you're going to be with me forever-'"

"but i am going to be with her forever…" he protests, and a wave of awws coo all around him. forlorn, he looks back down at the photo of the cartier love bracelet he has saved in an album of gifts he was thinking of buying you. he hadn't even gotten to ask the girls about which color would match your skin tone before they had collectively agreed the bracelet wasn't a good idea. 

"haechan, it's 7 thousand dollars…" 

"she's worth it," he mumbles, the answer coming to him like it was common sense. "i'll get a job…i can always earn it back…"

"why don't you get her something she's mentioned?" giselle suggests. "like perfume she likes, or a book, or…" 

"i don't want to just get her…a book," he huffs. "i want to get her something she can wear all the time, and everytime she looks at it she'll think of me." 

"really?" she presses. "or do you just want her to show everyone she's yours?" 

"i mean, yeah-" he runs his hand through his hair, shaking it roughly to clear his head. "i mean, maybe? i don't know…" 

another round of cooing starts up, as the girls lean in a little closer, patting him on the back or placing a comforting hand on his arm. 

"i guess i've been feeling like i want her attention…maybe…" he kicks his feet in the air frustratedly. 

"you should talk to her," winter suggests. "aren't you the one who's always talking about open communication?" 

"i love communication," he mopes. "but when i'm with her i get scared…i get so scared of losing her i don't know what to say…"

some of the girls clutch at their hearts, others pulling him into hugs. 

"thank you guys…" he says, earnestly. "i'll think about your advice…" 

"ready to go?"

he jolts at your voice, back straightening and head whipping around to face you. 

"hi!" he blurts out, a little flustered and giddy. "yeah, i'm ready…" he grabs a bunch of papers from beside him and shoves them into his bag haphazardly, slinging one strap over his shoulder as he plucks your laptop from your hands, carrying it for you like he always does. 

"say goodbye to everyone, haechan." he thinks he catches something in your tone – you're trying to keep it light, but something sounds off. 

"byebye girls-" he mumbles, obediently, hopping off the table and standing next to you. when the chorus of goodbyes echoes back, he thinks you walk just a little bit faster, making it harder for him to loop his free arm around your shoulder…

it worries him. 

"you're coming to the party later right?" 

you push open the door with a bit too much force, and he shouldn't be distracted, shouldn't be deterred from his mission to find you the perfect gift and figure out why you were upset, but his thoughts flood with the image of you pushing him around too — and it's like he can feel your touch, the way he imagines it, heavy and warm against his chest. 

it's like he's underwater, as you reply a curt "yes" to his question, because he wants you to shove him against a wall and push him, hard, until he's breathless. you're walking, back to your apartment he presumes, eyes fixed on the road ahead and the way you're blatantly ignoring him also makes his heart hammer fast. he wonders what things he can get away with as you ignore him, wonders if you'll ever let him touch you while you're on your phone, or-

"- get ready at my place?" 

what?

you've stopped walking. your hands are crossed over your chest.

"so? do you want to come?" 

cum? 

"yes please," he breathes. "i mean, if you want me to, but i also want you to cum…" 

"come where?" 

cum where? holy fuck. 

"on my face" he answers, eagerly. "we haven't done that in ages —" 

his face falls when it registers that the groan you let out is out of frustration, and not the sound he usually hears ringing in his ears when he curls his fingers just right. 

"haechan, focus." you grip him by the shoulders, choosing to ignore the fact that giving him commands was always a surefire way to get him to lose focus. "do you want to come home with me as i get ready for the party? or do you want to go help your friends set up?" 

"with you," he says, quickly. 

"the party starts in 30 minutes, i don't think we'll have time to do…" you wave your hand haphazardly. "whatever you're thinking of." 

"sit on my face?" 

"yeah, that." 

whining, he links his arm into yours as you cross the street together. "is this becoming a theme in our relationship? you telling me we don't have time and us just fucking anyway?" 

"uh…"

"is it like…your kink? because it's really annoying," he fishes out the keycard to your apartment complex, clumsily tapping it against the sensor and failing to unlock the door in his frustration, shoving against it far too hard and making the glass shake. "ah, fuck–" 

"i'll do it," you brush past him, taking the keycard from his hand. "calm down, please, haechan." 

"it's not just about fucking," his voice is rough. "okay, well, this thing with you ignoring me, it's growing on me i'll admit. i can see us doing something with that in the future –" he's talking way too loudly about this in the lift lobby, urgency in his tone making his voice ring in the space. "but i also need to feel like you want me around, you know?" 

"of course i want you around." you blink, surprised. your voice softens when you cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at your face. "are you serious? is that what you really think?"

"i dunno…" the question 'do you just want to show everyone she's yours?' echoes around in his head, and he winces at the thought of it, possessive and needy. he tries to backtrack, mumbling out, "i don't know why i said that." 

you bite your lip. something was off with him. you were both worried about things you couldn't articulate quite yet, and you knew everything would work out if you just talked about it and came up with ways to reassure each other. 

and usually he was the first one to sit you down and get you talking about what was on your mind (like the time you were upset he kept staying up gaming), or communicate his own thoughts no matter how jumbled (like the time he was convinced your ex was cursing your relationship with 'bad vibes'). 

but today he's quiet all of a sudden, wide-eyes staring up at yours hesitantly, and it hurts. 

"okay," you say, softly, letting go of his face. 

"what?" 

"okay," you repeat, stepping into the elevator. "when you're ready to talk about it, you can let me know." holding open the elevator doors with one hand, you're even more confused when haechan takes a step back, hands shoved deeply into his pockets as he looks up at you. 

"i'll go help set up the party…" he watches your brow furrow, and hastens to add, "if that's okay?" 

and even though all your instincts are telling you to coddle him, to beg him to tell you what's wrong and to kiss the pout off his face, you nod and step back into the lift. 

"yeah, i'll see you later." 

it's pathetic how much you miss him once the lift doors close. 

x

when you arrive at the party, haechan is nowhere to be seen, something renjun is very angry about. you end on the balcony with jaemin, half part ensuring he doesn't do anything impulsive, and the other part…

"so you're jealous because haechan knows many beautiful, confident, and smart women who he could easily replace you with?" 

jaemin was just coherent enough to give sound advice, and just tipsy enough to be very blunt about it. 

"so you think it's a valid concern?" you press. 

"you know what, when he gets here…" jaemin pauses, swishing the contents around in his cup contemplatively. "ask him to take you upstairs." 

"to do what?" 

"fuck, obviously," he looks at you, disgusted. "is this your first day dating him?" 

"why would i do that?" 

"just trust me on this." he takes another sip. "do you think he'll say yes?"

"of course," you roll your eyes. "is this your first day knowing him? we were just fighting about it-" you break off, realizing you said it was a fight. 

"you guys had a fight?" now jaemin sits up, interested. 

"not really, i mean…" was it a fight? "something slipped out about me not spending enough time with him." 

"i can see that," jaemin muses, brown hair falling over his eyes as he tilts his head this way and that. "he's always liked attention." 

"but he usually loves to talk things out…today he just walked away." your voice is small, missing him again as you thought about him. 

jaemin smiles, knowingly. "he's just scared." 

"really?" 

"yeah, i remember when he first met you –" he stops abruptly. "oh, he's here." 

your head snaps up as you look through the glass doors of the balcony, and sure enough, haechan had shuffled into the living room, eyes scanning the room, before disappearing behind a crowd of people.

"what did you say to him?" jaemin marvels. "he looks so defeated." 

"i didn't say anything," you mumble, guilt once again crashing through you. "i'm gonna go now, okay?" 

not listening out for a reply, you slide open the doors hastily, doing a quick survey of the living room to see if he was there. your heart stops when you see him standing in a corridor off the living room, leaning against the wall in the leather jacket he knew you liked. his eyes meet yours, hesitance written all over his features, but also a kind of tenderness and warmth that was so familiar. 

you make your way to him, watching as he straightens, hands reaching out for you before you've even reached the corridor, and the first thing he does is envelop you in a hug. his arms wrap around you and squeeze you tight against his chest as he rests his chin on your head, cradling you in his touch as he sways slightly. 

he doesn't say a word as he gently breaks the embrace to kiss you, holding your face tenderly in his hands, palms sliding around to the back of your neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. his tongue slides against yours, and his fingertips tremble just a bit against your skin. 

even when you break apart, he still doesn't speak just yet, eyes staring closely at yours, and you held the eye contact, feeling like he was reaching his hands into your heart as he pulls you a little closer. 

"i'm sorry," he begins. "i shouldn't have walked off. i wanted to talk to you but i was afraid i would say something wrong." 

"it's okay–" 

"wait." he exhales. "i rehearsed this on the way here, could you forgive me a bit later?" 

you feel yourself smile as you pull him into another hug, which he returns. 

"now i'm just thinking about how good you smell," he mumbles into your hair, a little begrudgingly. 

"it's okay if it's not rehearsed," you tell him, softly. 

"but i don't want you to misunderstand," he insists. "i think recently i've been feeling like you don't really have time for me…or that i have to earn your attention…" 

"haechan–" 

"and it's hot sometimes," he emphasises. "but other times…" 

"i'll get better at balancing things," you promise. "i miss you too, you know. when i'm always stuck at the library." he's looking at you with that starry-eyed expression again, and you wish you had just told him all of this sooner. 

"is that what was bothering you?" he asks, gently. 

you could just end the whole thing now, brush past the sick flutter inside your chest and tell him there was nothing else. but the thought of stepping out into the corridor and losing him to the crowd was too much to bear. 

jaemin's advice flits into your head, and you grasp at it like a lifeline. 

"haechan, if i asked you to go upstairs with me now, what would you say?" 

"to do what?" he asks, curiosity making his eyes widen. 

"you know…" feeling a little stupid, why hadn't you pressed for more information from jaemin?, you looped your fingers around his belt loops and tugged him a little closer. "so i can pay attention to you?" 

"um…are you really distracted right now…?" 

"to fuck, haechan." 

his jaw drops and he freezes, melodramatically, for a split second. 

"haechan?" 

spluttering back to life, he grips onto your arms. "is everything okay?" a hand comes up and brushes your forehead, feeling for your temperature. "are you sick? do you want me to take you home?" 

"haechan," exasperated, you roll your eyes and shove him a little so he backs away from you. he's still peering at you with disbelief, eyes scanning your frame, and you just know he's trying to see if your face is flushed, or if you're drunk. "stop looking at me like that," you mumble. "why are you so surprised? as if you've never fucked anyone upstairs at a party before –"

"i mean, yeah," he chokes. "but that's…that's just for fun." 

"so we can't have fun?" 

"no!" he screws his face up in concentration. "that's not what i mean." 

"so…you don't want to take me upstairs?" 

he shakes his head, firmly. 

"...but you were fine with taking girls upstairs in the past?"

he exhales frustratedly, rubbing his temples, words swallowed by his pouty lips as he tries to explain. "you're… you're different to me."

"what-"

"i want everything to be perfect," he says, softly. "i can't do that in some random guy's bedroom. i want to take my time with you, and i want you to know i love you." he takes a deep breath, and his voice drops an octave when he next opens his mouth. 

"i can't do that upstairs, and i've never done it with anyone else before." looking up at you through his lashes, there's a small smile on his face as his hands reach out to hold yours. "that's what you're worried about, right?" 

"when did you get so eloquent?" you ask, quietly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks and light up your body with warmth. 

doe eyes look at you, fascinated. "what does eloquent mean?" and then, eagerness rising in his voice, "does it mean hot? do you want me to take us home now?" 

you push forward and kiss him on the lips, hands squeezing his waist and drawing a whimper from the back of his throat. working your way down to his throat, you suckle on the mole that lies just under his jaw, working your way down and drawing another choked sound from him as he realises what you're doing. he scrabbles at his shirt desperately, unbuttoning the top buttons with clumsy hands just as you finish marking his throat.

"here," he whispers, tapping at the mole on his chest, and you smile, kissing it gently. "and here –" he unbuttons his shirt a bit more, tugging at the sleeve so you can see another mole under his ribcage. "one more –" 

"baby, are you going to take off all your clothes in the middle of this corridor?" 

"if you kiss all of them, i will." he says, determined, hands now going to his belt buckle. 

"let's just go home." when he starts to splutter in protest, hands now pulling the belt off his belt loops, you hastily take his hands in yours to stop him. "so i can see them better, okay? it's too dark here." 

flushed, he nods quickly, bouncing on his toes as he does up his belt again. 

"just so you can see better," he echoes, shyly. 

x

you wake up when haechan gets back into bed. 

he's washed his face and brushed his teeth, you can smell mint on his breath and freshly applied perfume when he presses a light kiss to your cheek, watching him out of your barely-open eyes. it's endlessly endearing that he cares about how he tastes and smells to you, even after months of being together.

"baby," he whispers, the familiar excitement in his tone. hands roaming your skin, he drags down the collar of your shirt with a fingertip, pressing a kiss low on your collarbone, the other rubbing indulgently over your bare stomach. "baby, are you up?"

it had been about a week since the party, and haechan and you had promised to make time for each other in the mornings, waking up a little earlier every day. sometimes you lay and talked about the day ahead, sometimes you would both agree to sleep in. and other times… 

his hand slides into yours, as he presses a few more sloppy kisses to your neck, flicking his tongue against your jaw. he was extra touchy whenever he just woke, seeking your warmth under his palms and tangling his legs in yours. "baby…i need you." 

lying still, you shut your eyes firmly, slowing down your breaths as if you were asleep. it's a moment before haechan gives up, placing one last kiss on your shoulder before you feel him sigh against your skin. opening your eyes just slightly, you see him lying on his back — staring at the ceiling with a pout on his face, one hand rubbing absentmindedly on your hip. 

a week ago it would have been too soon, but now's the perfect time to try it as you slide your hand over to his shorts, feeling the silky smooth skin of his upper thighs as you lightly drag the fabric up. 

his breath hitches. "y/n?" 

keeping your eyes shut and your head turned towards the sheets, you ghost your hand over the front of his shorts, the fabric stretched around his length. tracing over the outline of his cock, you squeeze him lightly, drawing an achy moan. 

"baby…" his voice is hesitant. "what are you doing?" 

you resist the urge to respond, his voice and his heavy breathing the only sounds in the room, amplified in the cold morning. you hear him take another shaky breath when you slide your hand under his waistband, skin hot to touch, and grip the base of his hard cock, feeling it twitch slightly under your touch. his legs slide restlessly against the sheets, hips shifting, trying to get you to move your hand. 

"y/n?" he tries again, before letting out a hiss as your fingers move up to his dripping tip, rubbing at his slit gently. "fuck, okay," he pants, cutting himself off with a shaky moan as you pump his thick length with your fist, fingers barely forming a complete ring. he was leaking so much precum, more than you've ever felt before, cock throbbing and twitching heavily against your palm, making you press your thighs tightly together, trying to focus. his hips buck up into your hand sporadically as he loses control of his movements, and you indulge him by keeping a steady grip, letting him fuck your fist. 

you hear a familiar choke, and you open your eyes wider by just a sliver, to see tears running down his cheeks, the tip of his nose red. his mouth hangs open, lips wet with saliva and tears, drooling slightly from the corners of his mouth. he's been moving his head this way and that on his pillow, his hair mussed up and falling over his eyes, a complete wreck from you fulfilling his fantasy. 

slowly, you open your eyes as you release him, bringing your slick covered hand up to his face and wiping his tears and drool away as best you could. his head snaps in your direction, panting heavily and eyes half-lidded with lust, searching for yours. 

"please don't stop," he begs. "please, i wanna cum–" 

you close your eyes, hand falling to the sheets next to you as you pretend to settle in again, pulling the thin blanket over you. the only sound in the room is haechan's small, achy voice, whimpering "please, please, please" over and over again, punctuated by sniffles. 

and then, you feel your covers being lifted, heavy hands landing on your waist. 

"let's see if you can ignore me through this, angel." haechan's voice is dark, as he tugs down your shorts and panties with an urgency and desperation you know well. you feel the sting of cold air as your thighs, wet with slick, are held open by his arms, a groan rumbling low from his throat as he takes in the sight of your wet core. "look at me," he demands, making his tongue lie flat and wide as he licks up the arousal leaking onto your thighs and the outside of your core. 

with your eyes closed, each press of his tongue on your skin is magnified by the thousands. you've never felt so sensitive, and you swear you could cum just from the way he kitten licks at your clit, breathing heavily against your sopping heat. but you couldn't look. 

"stubborn baby," he mouths against your folds, tongue dipping into your hole and letting out a satisfied hum at the taste. "you look so pretty, pressed up to my face like this," he praises, one hand releasing your thigh and sliding a finger into you. "you're so tight..." he slides his finger in deeper, pressing against your spongy walls. smiling, he presses his tongue onto your clit, applying a pressure that made you clench even harder around him. "always so tight for me, i don't fuck you enough, hm? squeezing around my tip –" he strokes your walls with the tip of his finger, feeling you pulse. "just like that," he mumbles. 

haechan rarely talked so much while he was eating you out, but now he just couldn't seem to stop, loving the way his voice filled the room, covering your little choked whimpers and moans that you tried to bite back. 

"could play with you for hours," he groans, adding another finger. "you look so cute stretched out over my fingers." he curls his fingers towards the front of your walls, brushing past a spot that makes your hips jerk up, and a moan slip past your lips. "you like that?" 

but then he's withdrawing his fingers entirely, smearing your arousal messily around your folds before circling up to your clit, fingers slipping as he rubs the sensitive nub. "you're dripping," he breathes, dipping back to your entrance, laughing cruelly when he feels your hole clench around nothing. "when you wake up…" he says, sarcastically, and the tone makes your stomach twist. where did he learn all this? "you can beg me to fill you up. are you having a nice dream, baby?" 

you feel him sink down to the bed again, his hair tickling your inner thighs as his mouth attaches to your core, messily frenching your folds. "so swollen," he mumbles, now circling your clit and flicking it lightly with the tip of his tongue, a stinging pressure. "i wish i knew what you needed, sweetheart," his voice is sad, and you just know that if you opened your eyes you would see his own, blinking back at yours innocently. "do you need me here?" he presses your clit the way he knew you craved, mimicking a vibrating motion with his wrist. "or here?" three fingers shove deep into your cunt, and your back arches. "both? or…" you feel him rise, hands guiding your knees to your chest, and you finally, finally open your eyes. 

the sunrise is beautiful against his golden skin, stinging at your eyes as you blink back tears fogging your vision. his face is tear-streaked, hair still a mess, your eyes tracing the light illuminating the moles on his neck, his chest, his torso, his thighs. he lines himself up to your entrance, kissing the side of your knee lovingly. 

"good morning, baby," he smiles, eyes crinkling. "i'm going to fuck you now." 

"haechan-" your voice is hoarse from lack of use. "do you want to try it from the back?" 

there's a pause.

"fuck yes," he groans, his hands moving you effortlessly, helping you get on all fours. you arch your back, pressing your face against the sheets as you wiggle your hips in the air, hearing a moan rise from his throat as he fists his length urgently. 

"hurry up," you whine. 

"hurry up…" he mocks, giggling as he runs his hands down your spine. "you're so spoiled, princess." his hands grasp at your hips, and you feel something heavy push between your legs, his tip pushing into you, the initial stretch making you tense.

"fuck…ah–" he bottoms out, feeling your walls pulse around him, holding still so you can adjust. "you're so tight like this, fuck." when you let out another whimper, he starts to pull out, body stiffening. "are you okay? can i –" 

"please move," you whimper, hips jolting as you start fucking yourself on his length, need surging through your body. his hips snap against yours, wet sounds filling the room as skin meets skin. his hand comes around to touch your clit, rubbing it harshly, and you cum instantly, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak. 

"just a bit more, baby," he whimpers, speeding up to chase his high. "you want me to fill you up? fuck you so full of my cum you can't ignore it?" pulling you up, he grasps at your breasts, kneading the soft mounds in his hands and pinching at a hard nipple. the moan you let out pushes him over the edge as he cums, hard, warmth shooting into you and coating your walls as you milk him dry, sensitivity making you clench around him again.

"i love you," he whispers, kissing you sweetly on the nape of your neck before pulling out, wincing at the feeling. you lie back on the sheets, winded, as he gets a towel from the bedside cabinet and wipes your thighs dry, purposefully pushing some of the cum leaking out of your entrance back in with a gentle finger, your thighs shaking at the feeling. you make grabby hands at him and he smiles, putting down the towel before all but jumping into your arms, kissing you again on the neck and nuzzling against your shoulder. 

"so?" he raises his eyebrows. 

"so what?" 

"it's hot, right?" he gushes, eyes sparkling. "the ignoring thing? fuck, when i kept calling for you and you closed your eyes…" he sighs. "you're my dream girl," he says, sincerely. "do you know that?"

"i'm your dream girl because i ignore you?" 

"we should only do this once in a while…" he's lost in his own world, brows furrowing as he chews on his cheek in thought. "i miss hearing your pretty sounds…" 

"or maybe you could ignore me," you suggest, sleepiness taking over your body again as you curl up closer to him.

"you really are my dream girl," he marvels, planting a light kiss on your forehead as you drift off, safe in his arms.

x

"we have a problem." 

"the problem we have," you correct him, as he locks the bathroom door behind you. "is we should stop coming to these parties."

"he keeps looking at you," haechan huffs, his eyes trained on your body. "and i get it, because i look at you and i want you now but –" frustrated, he tugs a little at the hem of your dress, which was currently riding high on your thighs as you sat on the bathroom sink. "but you're mine." 

"be honest, do you wish you bought me that $7000 bracelet now?" you tease. 

at haechan's encouragement, you had started to befriend karina and her friends, finding their confidence and enthusiasm infectious and endearingly reminiscent of your boyfriend. they had told you that he spent weeks meeting them after lectures, asking for advice on the littlest things – like how to be there for you on your period, how to help you pick out an outfit, and how to choose gifts.

"very much so," he groans, and you pull him towards you, giving him a kiss. it's when he's kissing down your neck, your breaths becoming shallow, hands pawing absentmindedly at his chest, when he suddenly freezes, an idea forming in his mind. 

"do you think i can spell my name on your neck in hickeys?" tracing the letters with his fingertips, he furrows his brow, mumbling to himself. "maybe just the initials? or one letter. or a symbol…" 

"you're so stupid-" you cut yourself off, slotting your lips with his again. when you break apart, there's a softness in his eyes, his tone low and hesitant. 

"you like it…" he runs his tongue over his lower lip, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "right?" 

"haechan…" you wrap your arms around him, feeling him relax into your hold. "i love you," you say, softly, in his ear. you feel him smile against your neck, murmuring back a soft i love you too, the fact that he never let it go unanswered making you feel giddy and lovestruck all over again. 

"i know what to do," he beams, pushing you gently against the wall and letting his body cage you in — and when he starts sucking a mark onto your skin, you have a vague idea of what it's going to be. 

x

when you rejoin the party, the music is still blasting loud as if you've never left, the energy feeds into haechan's enthusiasm as he taps, or rather, hits the shoulder of the first person he sees coming out of the bathroom, who happens to be jaemin. 

"JAEMIN." 

"shut the fuck- oh." jaemin turns, raising his eyebrows when he sees the two of you. "going home?" 

"just bear with it," you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up as haechan puffs his chest out proudly, clearing his throat to speak. "he's doing a thing." 

"she's mine," he crows, proudly. tracing one of the marks on your neck, he beams up at jaemin with starry eyes. "i did this to her." 

"cool." the boy flashes him a thumbs up, which haechan returns enthusiastically. voice dropping low, jaemin leans in. "is he going to repeat this to everyone you bump into on the way out?" 

you see haechan waving at renjun, signaling that you were about to be tugged over. "i think so." 

jaemin nods slowly, lips stretching into a smile. "you're a lucky girl, y/n." 

you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. you take in the glow of your skin, the hickeys scattered across your neck and collarbones, your styled hair completely messed up around your face. you take in the arms around your waist, the man next to you peeking at you from the corner of his eye as if he couldn't believe you were there pressed against him, his own hair tousled and wild. 

and you feel yourself smile. 

x

bonus: 

"mark, i think i've found the one." 

"and i told you, she's with someone–" 

"leave it." jaemin murmurs. "he's haechan. she'll probably leave whoever she's with because of him." 

"haechan," but mark's voice is insistent on pinning him to reality as he puts both hands on haechan's cheeks, forcing his head to turn so he's looking him in the eyes. "if you're not serious about it…" 

"but i am." haechan is a little breathless as he sways on the spot, eyes finally focused on mark's. "i really want to talk to her…"

"that's not-" 

"but i don't want to mess up." swallowing, haechan runs his hand through his hair. "what if i say the wrong thing, what if she thinks i'm stupid." his eyes search the crowd for you again, before settling back on mark's round ones. "mark…" his voice is soft, and just a little bit scared. 

"what if she doesn't like me?" 

mark's hands fall away as he takes in the little bit of wild sincerity in haechan's eyes, and the hesitance he hadn't quite seen before. 

it takes a lot of encouragement, to finally persuade haechan to meander his way over into the corridor he's sure you haven't stepped out of. even then, his steps are unsure and faltering, panicked eyes finding mark and jaemin's in the crowd seeking reassurance, and mark thinks when he finally meets you he isn't going to make the best first impression at all. 

haechan was someone who dove into things, who felt emotions as hard as he possibly could, running headfirst into everything in life without knowledge or fear of consequence. 

maybe there was some credit to his the one theory, mark thinks, because you were the one thing haechan couldn't even start to walk towards for fear of losing in the crowd. 

mark had a good feeling about this — something told him that it would all work out eventually. 

taglist: @luafvr @liliansun @hotmessexpress35 @ery-noice @tddyhyck @xenkimmie @ofjunemoment @neochan @acidwon @babyjenono @kittydollzz @smwhrinthehaze

#haechan smut #fic: himbo haechan #donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan x reader #haechan au #nct smut #nct fluff

[ameliathornromance]

“It’ll be fine.” You reassured him, holding your Orc Boyfriends hand. You gave it a comforting squeeze. “She doesn’t bite.”

“But she’s a little girl.” Your Orc answered. He’d stopped just before your front door. “Look at me,” your Orc Boyfriend let go of your hand and gestured to his figure. Tall, green and muscular, he pointed at the door. “Your child is going to go running for the hills once she sees me.”

"I've already told her you're an Orc." You tell him.

"Telling someone about an Orc and seeing an Orc are two different things, hun."

At that, you roll your eyes.

Your ex, had gone out to go and chop firewood and never returned. Since you lived very far away from the nearest village, it was rare you heard news. After your ex hadn’t returned the next morning, you went into the village, crying, pleading and begging for people to help look for him.

But unfortunately, no one had seen him. And two days turned into a week… which turned into three weeks… and then a month. Around the two month mark, you got a letter from your ex, saying that he had been having an affair with the milk maid and they had eloped.

Your daughter, who was only a toddler at the time, did not understand what it meant when you cried so much you gagged or when you randomly burst into tears when you saw newly weds passing by in a heavily decorated carriage.

The only thing that held you together, was your child. While you still wondered what you did wrong and conjured up daydreams of keeping your husband here, your daughter made those vanish in an instant. Just hearing even a small giggle, was more than enough to drown out those thoughts… for a little while at least.

Around your daughters sixth birthday, you had met your Orc. You had been in town, looking for cake ingredients when the Orc offered to help you carry your many bags. From that point onwards, the two of you were always in contact… And it became romantic.

Once you told him you had a daughter and told him of the betrayal from your ex, your Orc snorted. “What a pathetic man. You and your daughter are better off without him.” He had let a grin cross his face, “and now you have me. And I won’t leave you.”

When he told you that, you had stared at him, hardly daring to believe it. The internal doubt was blown away by his words, you had to hide your face from him as you wiped your nose and dried your eyes.

“Oh, hun I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he comforted, “c’mere.” You had spent the rest of your date in his arms.

Hearing his reassurance only solidified your resolution: Your daughter would have to meet your Orc Boyfriend.

But your Orc – who was usually so boastful and confident – was now reduced down to a bundle of nerves. It was sweet, how he braided and re-braided his hair over and over again, asking: “does this look alright?”

And now, as your Orc looked down at you, with your pleading eyes and sighed. He knew how important this was to you, your daughter was worth more than gold. “You’re sure she’s not going to be afraid of me?”

You gave a reassuring smile, “one hundred percent.”

Sucking in a deep breath, and exhaling, your Orc Boyfriend nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

The two of you marched forward. As the two of you got closer, you heard a loud giggle come from inside the house.

Your smile only grew wider as you opened the front door and out running, came a flurry of (H/C) locks that headed straight for your Orc.

Your daughter skidded to a halt in front of your Orc and pointed, looking between you and your boyfriend. “Mama, you were right!” She grinned widely. “He’s is super tall!”

“Honey,” You kneeled down to her height, “c’mon, be polite.”

“Oh, right.” Your little girl covered her large grin and stepped back a few paces. She stuck her hand out to your Orc, “I’m (D/N), it’s nice to meet you.”

Your Orc looked between you and the tiny child, who still held her tiny hand out to him, waiting for him to shake it. After your encouraging smile, your Orc uncertainly took her hand in his own and shook it. “Um, it’s nice to meet you too. I’m (O/B).”

“Come inside! I wanna show you the drawing I did of the birds earlier!” Not letting your Orcs hand go, your daughter proceeded to drag him inside the house.

As you watched them pass the threshold, your Orc couldn’t help a smile of relief wash over his face.

“I told you you’d be fine.” You whispered to him as your daughter thundered up the stairs to go and get her drawings.

“Why are you telling me that? I wasn’t nervous at all.” your Orc bluffed. He laid back into your sofa, his old confident smile returning.

The day went smoothly after that, your daughter held your boyfriends undivided attention for hours as she explained the fictional drama between her stuffed animals, Mr Blake, the Shopkeep and Mother Goose.

“No!” Your Orc’s jaw dropped when your daughter announced that the Shopkeep had been giving Mother Goose chicken instead of ham like she asked.

By the end of the day, your daughter was practically falling asleep in your boyfriends arms, eyes flitting closed and snapping open whenever the two of you spoke.

Once you’d put her to bed, you found your Orc sitting on the sofa, grinning. You return his smile, confused. “What?”

“You get up everyday and handle that kid.” He said, not taking his eyes off you. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, crashing next to him on the sofa, “she’s a handful, but I love her.” you yawned. “It is a lot to do on my own, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“She’s got me now too.” Your Orc Boyfriend snuggled closer to you. Heart swelling, you threw your arm across his torso and you let your eyes slide closed. And the two of you fell asleep, basking in the domestic bliss.

#monster x female #monster lover #orc fiction #monster romance #orc boyfriend #monster x you #orc x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #orc romance #monster boyfriend #orc x reader fluff #monster romance fluff #orc x human #orc x female!reader #orc x human reader

[cheriladycl01]

Could you fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader? They're on vacation during the winter and she's cold, so she take a water bottle and cradle it. Nando saw it and felt jelly and left out🤭 I don't know if it make sense. Add something else to it if it's not right. Thanks!! :))

Finland Freeze - Fernando Alonso x WifeReader

Plot: Fernando decided to take you on a ski trip, however after testing out the bunny slopes and multiple falls you need to go back to the log cabin for some warmth, however Fernando feels as though he should be that warmth instead!

Credit to the-offside-rule for the GIF

"Come on. It's not that hard!" your husband Fernando laughed from the bottom of the small hill. You look down at him, from up here the slope looked huge.

There was multiple kids going past you, throwing themselves into the activity while you stayed there apprehensively.

"Come on mi amor!" he shouts up to you. You take a few more seconds before starting pushing yourself down the slope on the ski's. You start to speed up and you try leaning into the turn but end up just plopping down into the icy slope. You look up, pulling your goggles up seeing your husband laughing at you with his hands on his knees.

A dad laugh.

You got up quickly rubbing the snow away from your now probably bruised bum. You start up again, taking the turns a little slower and manage to get down to your husband with only 2 more slip ups.

As you neared him, he opened his arms wide as if you were a toddler coming towards him. You however didn't fully slow to a stop, and end up falling in between his legs taking him down with you.

"Offph, I know when i married you I said till death do us part... but your taking that very seriously!" he jokes looking over you before helping you up from the snowy floor.

"Your the one who got me to come to Finland with you! I would have happily spent my winter in Dubai, or Australia!" you comment, pulling him into a hug.

The next few times and he comes down the hill with you, holding your hand and making sure to balance you back out when you start to skid.

After a few more hours, your getting too cold, your cheeks fully red and not enjoying the dropping temperatures. You say that you'll go back to the cabin on the ski resort to warm up while Fernando goes on the big slopes with his personal trainer.

You get in, changing from the damp skiing gear you were sporting and wrapping a dressing gown around you while you shove it all in the washing machine.

You quickly make your way over to the bathroom getting in the warm shower and rinsing of your body, keeping it on a warm temperature to try and warm up the furthest bits of your body.

You stayed there for at least 45 minutes, where you fingers slowly started to resemble prunes. You put on joggers and a hoodie of your husbands and some big fluffy socks. You make you way down to the living area turning the kettle on immediately. You grab the matches and light the wood inside the fireplace that Fernando had put there the previous night when you both realized you'd used most of it up.

Once the kettle has boiled you split the water, most of it going into the pink fluffy hot water bottle you'd conveniently taken with you, even though you'd been told you wouldn't need it. The other goes into making yourself a tea, using the last of the milk you guys had brought for the cup, noting you'd have to go to the little shop on the lodge sight later tonight.

You grab multiple unhealthy snacks that Fernando always held a grudge when he saw you lazing around on the sofa and his cheat day foods in hand on a random Wednesday.

You set yourself up on the sofa under a white fluffy blanket, nesting yourself down in between the large pillows. You hug the hot water bottle and turn on a new crappy rom-com in the Netflix recommended.

Fernando walks in the door, snow in his hair from the growing snow storm outside making you chuckle at his gruff entrance despite his small stature.

He walk over to you and leans down kissing your lips making you recoil away and bury down into your blankets more due to the coldness he brought.

"No kisses?" he asks looking at you with a tilted head and puppy dog eyes.

"You're cold hermoso" you smile shyly, not wanting to be rude but also wanting to keep warm.

"Hmmmm, i'll get changed and then you've got to let me in that bundle of warmth!" he exclaims before crossing over to the bedroom.

He comes back in a pair of shorts and t-shirt the outfit making your eyes widen shocked that he could even possibly be warm in that outfit. He starts to climb into your nest you've created pulling a random wrapper off you and into the little bin behind you both before he starts to undo all your hard work of keeping the warmth in.

"Mmmmm no please!" you complain hugging the water bottle closer trying to keep the warmth.

"I'm hurt mi amor! This bottle is a better source of heat than me? Your husband?" he asks looking over you and you want to nod you really do but his expression makes you just stay still as he starts to pull the blanket away from you. He lays down, re-wrapping the blanket around himself when he pulls your hot water bottle away.

You groan out a complain.

"Mmmm I'm better than this stupid bottle!" he says before snaking his hands up under your hoodie making you shiver and whine from how cold his hands are.

"Fernando!" you gasp when he fully flattens his hands on your back.

"We'll warm up soon" he smiles fully laying on your and hugging your body into his.

"I was warm until you showed up" you sigh starting to play with his hair that was under the blanket so your finger tips didnt get too cold.

Eventually the fire really kicked in and your body heats started to regulate meaning you were both warming each other up nicely now, to the point where you both fell asleep in your little nest of the sofa hugging each other with the soft voices from the next movie that had automatically played on in the back ground.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fanfic #fa14 #fa14 x reader #fa14 imagine

[corroded-hellfire]

Ok I feel like As You Wish!Eddie would be obsessed with that part in Enter Sandman where like he says the lines like “Now I lay me down to sleep” just to have his kids or reader repeat them back in like the innocent voice

Eddie lives his life by Metallica songs and teaches his children to do the same

Words: 1.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Alright pipsqueak,” Eddie says, gently tugging on the toe of Eliza’s purple footie pajamas as he passes where she sits between her brothers on the couch. “Bedtime.”

“No!” Eliza says, quickly rolling over a hundred eighty degrees so she’s laying on her tummy and buries her face in the couch cushion. 

“Yes,” Eddie says. He scoops the remote up from the coffee table and presses the off button, effectively ending Shrek 2. “Come on. Go brush your teeth, little girl.”

Luke stares at his father and gestures to the television, as if to say we were watching that too, man. Rolling his eyes, Eddie tosses the remote into his younger son’s lap.

“Eliza Marie Munson,” Eddie says.

With a huff to show her father her displeasure, the three-year-old pushes herself off the couch and disappears down the hallway. Luke flicks the television back on and the last thing Eddie hears as he follows his daughter down the hallway is his teenage sons laughing at Puss in Boots coughing up a hairball. 

“Ah, ah, with the toothpaste.” Your voice floats out of the bathroom into the hallway, making Eddie chuckle as he passes and keeps walking into Eliza’s room. 

Deciding to mess with the feisty little firecracker, Eddie snatches up her favorite stuffed pig and lounges on his daughter’s too-short bed. It’s only a few minutes later that Eliza’s heavy tread can be heard coming down the hallway, the heavy footsteps baffling for such a small girl. The moment she crosses the threshold into her room, Eliza’s face scrunches up and her tiny shoulders rise up toward her ears.

“Hey!”

“Is for horses,” Eddie answers.

You’re two steps behind Eliza and the moment you see Eddie on the bed you chuckle to yourself. The Little Terror is about to be unleashed. 

“My bed!” Eliza launches herself up on top of her father, causing him to let out an oof as she lands on his stomach. “My Penelope!” Small hands go to grab the stuffed pig but Eddie’s quicker, moving the plush animal behind his head to use as a pillow.

“Wow, kid, you really need to learn to share,” Eddie says.

A long exhale blows from Eliza’s nose, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a growl. Scooting her body up Eddie’s chest, your daughter rests her forehead against her father’s, giving him the most intimidating look she can manage. She probably doesn’t realize that to Eddie it now just looks like she has one giant eye, though. Hardly intimidating–even for the toddler. 

“Did you give night-night kisses?” Eddie asks.

“Penelope,” is Eliza’s only reply.

“I’ll give you Penelope the Pig back once you give everyone goodnight kisses.”

Sitting up straight, Eliza eyes her father skeptically. When he raises his eyebrows at her, she must decide to believe him because she slides from his chest and lands on her carpet with a thud. 

“Ryaaaaaan! Luuuuuuke!” Her calls echo down the hall as she runs, the shouts accompanied by the loud thumping of her feet as she picks up speed. 

“And you wonder why she’s a menace,” you say to your husband, tilting your head at him as you lean against the door jamb. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re implying,” your husband answers, giving you the most innocent doe eyes he can manage. 

Before you can come up with a response, Eliza rushes past you, back into the room. She skids to a stop and spins on her covered feet to face you.

“Kiss, Mama!”

Happy to oblige her, you scoop her up in your arms and press kisses all over her face. Her giggles are infectious as she tries to dodge your lips, protesting that this is an overload of kisses. She gives you a quick squeeze around the neck and you can’t help but notice how she’s feeling heavier in your arms these days. It makes a part of you sad, remembering when she was small enough to lay in the crook of your elbow. 

Eliza wriggles out of your grip and makes her way back over to her bed. Her lower lip juts out in a pout and she bats her dark eyelashes at her dad. 

“Can I have Penelope now pleeeeease?” she asks in her sweetest voice.

“I guess so.” 

Eddie pushes himself off the child’s bed and hands his daughter the stuffed pig. He presses a kiss to her head and tucks her in as she snuggles beneath her blankets. 

“Okay, ready for prayers?” Eddie asks.

“Ready.” Eliza snuggles back against her pillow, clasps her hands together in front of her, and closes her eyes.

“Now, I lay me down to sleep.”

“Now, I lay me down to sleep,” your daughter repeats, making you smile.

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Good job.” Eddie leans down and kisses her. “Goodnight, Sweet Pea.”

“Nighty night, Daddy.”

Quietly, you slip from the room, Eddie right behind you. He flips the light switch, turning off her overhead light and activating her Mulan nightlight. Gently, he closes the door behind him, and the two of you pad down the hall towards your room.

“You think Wayne will ever catch on that’s from a Metallica song and not your devotion to God?” you ask, a smirk dancing on your lips. 

“Not if someone keeps her mouth shut,” Eddie says, grabbing your sides and digging his fingers into them. Giggles erupt from you as you push his hands away and stumble into your shared room.

“Hush little baby, don't say a word,” you recite the next line of the song, walking backwards towards your bed. “And never mind that noise you heard.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at you as he slowly saunters forward, coming closer to you.

“It's just the beasts under your bed,” you continue. “In your closet, in your head.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie says, smirk on his face growing, “you’re about to have a beast in your bed.”

A soft yelp shoots out of you with a bout of laughter as Eddie tackles you down on the bed. He climbs on top of you and presses kisses all over your face, just like you’d done to Eliza. 

“Oof, she’s right,” you say. “Too much.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie teases. He scoffs and pretends to climb off of you. 

With a roll of your eyes, your fingers grip into the front of his t-shirt and you pull him back down on top of you.

“Get back here, altar boy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

[sleepyangelkami]

BLOODY NOSE s.harrington

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.6K

STEVE HARRINGTON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - your clumsy self was used to running into things and hurting yourself, so much so that you practically couldn't even feel the pain anymore. however, a little blood was enough to scare you. thankfully, steve is there to clean your bloody mess up.

 ☆ WARNINGS - blood, kinda gorey, clumsy!reader, ditzy!reader, crybaby!reader (the reader's a lot of things, okay??), worrying, anxiety, mention of knife?, attentive!steve, pre-established relationship, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

clumsy was your middle name, at least it should be.

you can't recall the last time you'd gone a full week without falling over and skidding your knee or banging your head into the pole you were walking towards. something about hurting yourself came so easy to you. perhaps it was because you were a buzzing ball of energy and no cones would stand in your way.

and steve harrington couldn't have you any other way.

allthough, he'd love if you'd actually look where you were going, he didn't really mind shutting the cupboards after you to make sure you didn't hit your head or switch off the gas when you were finished baking so you didn't light the house on fire, or even snatching your arm and forcing you to one side of the street so you didn't walk straight into the pole right in front of you.

however, sometimes he truly did wish you wouldn't be so clumsy.

as cute as it was, he couldn't deny that he was a worrier. a worrier until his last breath. your every move had him on his tip toes, making him turn grey in his prime and forcing the wrinkled lines on his forehead.

there was no denying that steve was sort of alike a mother to everyone he let into his life. a father? no, no. a mother. which was sort of odd, seeing as he was also your boyfriend.

often times you were strolling into family video with another bruise or scratch. you didn't mind though, because there was no blood. truthfully, steve was always much more worried than you were, trying to hold your leg still as he patched a plaster on it.

you were always swinging your dangling legs across those tables.

as time progressed, so did your relationship.

steve supposed that he never stopped being worried, he just began being prepared. plasters in his pockets, always watching you with a close eye.

until he wasn't.

it was late in the afternoon, a chopping knife in your hand. you were cutting up some fruits, wooden chopping board soaked in many different colours due to the juices that fell from them. steve knew how you loved your snacks in the evening, especially fruit, you had this awful craving for them. perhaps it was due to the dehydration you had when you constantly forgot to drink water. usually, steve had to follow you around with a water bottle.

usually, this was steve's task.

he didn't often leave you alone with a knife. actually, come to think about it he never left you alone with a knife. he knew that the outcome would not be as blissful as one would imagine.

even now, after you'd begged to cut up your own fruit. you'd told him that you were a lady, not a toddler. he had to agree. and as nervous as he was, he sat by the counter. his eyes were strained on your hands, chopping up the fruit.

the knife slid from each piece of fruit, you grasping the little chunks and tossing them in a bowl. "you want any?" you questioned, back sort of turned to him as you sliced the pear.

"no, honey, i'm okay―" smiling at you before realising he was smiling at you meaning your face was turned away from the fruit. "eyes on the fruit, sweetheart." though there was obvious worry laced in his tone, his own throat clenching at the mere thought of you practically slicing your hand off.

honestly? it wasn't too far fetched with what you'd done in the past.

steve watched as you dropped the knife a little too carelessly onto the chopping board before sweeping the bowl into your hands. he'd breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful the worrying and bubbling anxiety of you slicing a limb off was over.

unfortunately, that feeling of relief? yeah, it didn't last too long.

"See that wasn't so hard―" before he could so much as utter out a word of caution, much too wrapped up in the whole knife business, the open cabinet drawer was hitting you right in the face, a loud "ow!" falling from your lips.

"shit." instantly standing from his seat, making his way over towards you.

holding your hand up to your face, you uttered the muffled words. "'m okay, i jus―" turning to place the bowl of fruit onto the counter before "ow!" slapping your face against the same cabinet drawer.

"jesus christ." panic evident in his voice. "just―just don't move, okay?" perhaps that was the best idea, seeing as you moving would possibly result in loosing some form of a limb.

truthfully, it didn't hurt that much.

there was a stinging pain in your nose but you'd felt that familliar feeling many times before. it was almost as if your body had grown numb to the pain. perhaps that was why it was so easy to keep repeating the same mistakes, your body simply didn't care enough to stop.

you said ow due to the pressure though also because you deemed it was sort of necessary. you hit something, you shout "ow" right?

you felt him before you could hear him. "you okay? c'mere, baby, show me a look." the bowl of fruit was discarded on the counter top while one of hands moved to shove the cupboard press closed so you were in a safe proximity, tossing the end of the knife over and tipping it into the sink, out of reach.

finally, his hands came down to your own wrists, gently maneuvering them away from your face so he could take a look at your nose. "'m okay." you quickly quipped, knowing you'd endured much worse than a little bang against some wood. "really, it doesn't hurt that bad." did it even hurt at all? perhaps the feeling of hurt hadn't truly settled in.

steve didn't listen, tipping your head back by his finger against your chin. "doesn't hurt that bad?" you nodded though your head stung a little just by doing so. "yeah, well you're bleeding."

he should have known not to utter those words.

almost instantly, he turned to grab some of the kitchen paper that had been placed on the table, using the roll to grab a couple sheets, knowing you were too far from the bathroom.

bleeding?

the word kept repeating in your head and suddenly you felt dizzy. perhaps it was the hit of the cabinet drawer against your head or maybe it was the way you pushed your hand up to your nose, gazing down at the red crimson that painted your delicate skin.

why did your nose suddenly hurt so bad?

perhaps it was the anxiety building up in your cluttered chest. whatever it was, you could feel stinging in your eyes now, not from any physical pain but instead the pretty silhouette of tears that danced in your waterline, all glossy.

steve took notice of your glassy eyes before you could utter a word. "hey, hey, wh's wrong? does it hurt?" you nodded your head in agreement, despite the dizziness, despite the fact that you didn't know if it was all that entirely true.

he placed the kitchen paper against your nose ever so gently, featherlight. "i didn't... i didn't mean to." your voice came out breathless, sort of wobbly as if you really were going to cry.

steve felt his heart ache a little at that. "no, no, i know you didn't, hey." his large hand moved it's way towards your waist, soothing the skin gently. however, he was suddenly aware of your glance cast down on your hand, covered in a little of the blood from your nose. "hey, c'mon, pretty girl, 's just a little blood, no biggie, okay?"

once again, you nodded as a response, sniffing slightly.

"stupid." you mumbled through the tissue held against your nose, stumping the bleeding. it caused the word to come out muffled, practically unheard.

"you're not stupid." he gushed. "it was an accident, it happens."

however this time, you shook your head. "no, not me." his brows pinched together a little, taking the napkin from your nose, dried blood at the base of your nose. "the stupid cabinet door." grouching like a child.

he couldn't help but grin at you, wiping the dried blood from the bottom of your nose. "yeah, stupid cabinet door." he agreed, thankful your fear of blood didn't last too long.

you see, if it was any other situation, you probably would have cried.

but when steve stood so close to you, the scent of him enveloping you, arms practically encaging you. there was something about it that made the world stop, that made you realise a little blood wasn't all that bad. hey, you got attention from the world's best boyfriend, right?

surely, that had to count for something.

half an hour passed, you laid on the couch with a pack of frozen peas against your already bruising nose while leaning against steve's arm. he used his other one to hold a fork, feeding you the chopped up fruit. "better?" he mumbled, unable to catch your eye when you were so engrossed in the tv in front of you.

practically dazed by the animation, you managed to nod your head. "better." mumbling back, barely uttering the whole word.

steve couldn't help but roll his eyes upon realising how much special treatment he was giving you. truthfully, he was thankful you were okay but there was only one thing on his mind. "never lettin' you cut fruit again." murmuring practically to himself.

however, you heard. you snapped your head up, dodging the strawberry with a shocked look on your face. "what why?" he stared at you with a little shock. "i didn't even get cut!"

he rolled his eyes, shoving the strawberry through your lips. "just eat your fruit."

main masterlist/steve's masterlist

#steve #harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #steve harrington au #steveharrington #steve harrington headcannon #steve harrington fanfiction #sleepyangelkami

[kinkandkreep]

Can I get a spiderman 2099x spider person reader:

where the reader is a spider woman babysitting her niece and Miguel doesn’t know how to react to the reader’s niece acting like a spider baby towards him ….?

im sorry but that image of Miguel holding baby mayday with a straight face from the screenshot is my everything 💗

Friendly Neighborhood Babysitter

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝙾'𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♡︎ 𝙲𝚆: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 (𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 🙃)

♡︎ "__" 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

♡︎ 𝙰/𝙽: 𝙷𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗! 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚒𝚝. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛. 😭

“Roman Arabelle! Will you please get over here and sit down?”

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day, exasperated by your hyperactive niece’s antics. 

Don’t mistake, you love your little niece to pieces, and you were more than willing to babysit her for your brother and sister-in-law. 

You just had an expectation about how long you’d be watching your niece for, and when that time was exceeded, due to an emergency on your brother’s part, you found that both Roman and yourself were becoming more than a little antsy. 

In the present moment, the little toddler only giggled and continued running around, chasing excitedly after your year old Samoyed pup Kia. The dog seemed very content to have a playmate, and seemingly encouraged Roman’s behavior by playing a version of hide and seek with her. 

Throwing your head back, finally having relented and deciding that no, Roman would not be getting over to the couch and sitting down, you shut your eyes momentarily, before opening them when the doorbell sounds. 

“Tee tee __, someone’s here!” Roman temporarily pauses from where she’s rubbing the upturned Kia’s stomach.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back.” Pushing yourself up from the couch, you yell out a quick “here I come” before dragging your slipper clad feet up to the front door. Looking through the peephole, you restrain an excited little squeal upon seeing who stands on the other side of the door. 

It’s your boyfriend Miguel, and he appears to be holding some grocery bags. 

Quickly throwing the door open, you greet him with a jovial shout of “Gigi!” before ushering him into the foyer. 

The larger man smiles happily, bending down to offer you a quick peck on the lips.

“Hello, mi amor. I know you’ve been watching your sobrina and probably haven’t eaten yet, so I figured I’d bring over the ingredients for lasagna. I know you said it’s one of her favorites.”

You cooed internally, so endeared you were by your man’s thoughtfulness. You were preparing to respond, when Roman and Kia came bounding around the corner, skidding to a halt upon seeing Miguel. 

“Uncle Gigi’s here!” Roman yells, excitedly bouncing on her heels. Beside her, Kia barks a single time in happy acknowledgement of the familiar man’s arrival.

“Roman, I told you to stay put.” You level the girl with a slight glare, hands propped up in fists on your hips. 

Instead of heeding your words, the little girl giggles playfully, taking off into the apartment again, Kia hot on her tail.

By your side, Miguel chuckles, beginning to walk further into the apartment with you following closely behind

“Seems like you’ve been having fun,” he says once you’ve reached the kitchen. You sigh again, beginning to unpack everything from the bags Miguel brought as he grabs the utensils and things you’ll need to begin cooking. 

“Yep, been havin’ a grand ole time.” The words come out sarcastic and dry, causing Miguel to laugh again. 

“Normally you're ecstatic at the prospect of watching your niece. What happened this time?”

“I’ve had her for a lot longer than I usually do and I guess I’m just a little worn out. My brother’s had an emergency and said he’d be a few hours late picking her up, and I think the extra waiting time is making the both of us a little restless.” 

Seemingly on cue, you felt the telltale tingling at the base of your skull, guiding you to face your little niece.

She was teetering precariously on the edge of your coffee table, Kia oddly silent and watching almost expectantly. 

“Roman!” Your shout startled the girl, and she began to topple over onto Kia. You were especially thankful in that moment for your enhanced senses and speed, which allowed you to very quickly, and safely in your hurry, maneuver around your furniture and catch your niece before she crushed your pup.

“Little girl, you are going to be the death of me.” You breathed a sigh of relief, shaking your head as Roman screeched, clapping excitedly. 

“Again again,” she cheered, pouting when you instead placed her on the couch. 

“No, not again. Never again hopefully. Now,” you crouched, poking Roman’s chubby cheek. “If you can sit here and behave, Uncle Gigi and I will make you some lasagna. Would you like that?”

Roman cheered again, stout little arms raised high in celebration. 

“Yay, sa’na!” You chuckled at her attempt to say the word. 

Taking the remote, you queued up some Dora for her and made your way back into the kitchen, Kia hopping up to curl up next to your niece on the couch. 

“Crisis averted?” Miguel inquired, having already begun browning the ground beef and chopping the onions. 

“Crisis averted,” you replied, hoping that at least now you and Miguel could finish cooking in relative peace. 

Thankfully, your hope wasn’t for naught, as for the next 10 minutes or so, you and Gigi held very pleasant conversation as you prepared your meal, the two of you moving around each other and about the kitchen effortlessly. 

But, the bliss didn’t last much longer, as when you happened to glance up to check on Roman, you found the little girl to be missing. 

“Good Lord, Roman!” You immediately called out for her, beginning to move away from the kitchen when you noticed something in your peripheral. 

A muted shape was moving about Miguel’s body, and he apparently either didn’t notice or wasn’t bothered by it. 

Turning fully, you found that the blob was actually your niece. 

Your niece…was crawling over your mountain of a boyfriend like he was a jungle gym, and he seemed rather unfazed. 

“Roman! Girl, get down.” You quickly moved to lift her off of him, pointedly ignoring his little chuckle. 

“Roman Arabelle, you cannot climb on people, that’s rude.”

“Is it? But you climb on me all the time, muñeca.” Miguel smirked at you from over his shoulder, and despite the feeling of heat blooming in your chest, you threw him an annoyed glare. 

“Shut your face O’Hara.” 

The man chuckled in response, turning back to his task. 

“What that mean,” your niece inquired, staring up at you quizzically as you shushed her and quickly brought her back over to the sofa. 

“Nothing, just ignore Uncle Gigi.” 

You made sure Dora was still on and firmly told Roman to be still, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to come over to your house anymore. 

She frowned, insisting that she would be good. 

Nodding, you made your way back to Miguel, the two of you speedily wrapping up your meal preparations and heading over to join Roman in the living room. 

The three of you contentedly watched Dora for the 45 minutes it took the lasagna to finish cooking, Miguel and Roman actively participating with the show the entire time. It was surprising, but Miguel seemed a natural at interacting with little Roman, helping her solve the puzzles in the show, and even posing his own questions periodically.

You couldn’t help but smile at the cute scene, and you briefly imagined Miguel as a father, preferably to your own child. 

The thought caused a different, giddy sort of warmth to fill your chest, and when Miguel caught you staring, he threw you a knowing wink. 

After a while, the lasagna and garlic toast was ready, and you, Miguel and Roman all headed over to the dining table, happily enjoying your food, laughing and chatting all the while. 

Not long after, Roman’s parents arrived, taking the tuckered-out tot and offering you many thanks, waving goodbye as they departed. 

“Bye bye Tee Tee __,” Roman sleepily waved, curly haired head slotted against her mother’s neck.

“Bye bye Roman. I’ll see you later.” You waved back until the trio was gone, shutting the door and releasing a breath of relief. 

Now, it was just you and “Uncle Gigi.”

When you re-entered the living room, the man was laid out on the couch, a different show having been queued up. 

He smiled as you approached, making room for you to slot yourself against him. 

“Slick talk earlier, O’Hara,” you pouted, playfully pinching his cheek. 

“Oh come on, you walked right into that one,” he laughed, placing a teasing kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“Yeah, whatever. Just not around my baby niece, got it?”

“Got it,” he replied, though you had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t heed your words. 

The two of you continued watching the television in silence for a few minutes more, before a question from earlier popped into your mind. 

“Hey Gigi, can I ask you something?”

Pausing the tv, Miguel hummed. 

“Of course. Ask me anything.”

You suddenly felt a little silly, and considered just not saying anything until you looked into Miguel’s eyes. 

They held a softness and vulnerability reserved only for you, and you could tell he meant it when he said you could ask him anything. 

Taking a deep breath, you finally decided to speak. 

“H-have you ever…thought about having kids?”

It was silent for a moment, before Miguel broke out into loud laughter. 

“H-hey! It’s not funny! You know, forget I even asked.”

With a huff, you threw the blanket you’d been covered in off of yourself, fully intending to stomp away from Miguel and into your bedroom. 

You were stopped by a hand wrapping itself around your wrist, effectively halting your movements.

“Wait wait, __. I’m sorry for laughing, ok?” Miguel stifled his remaining chuckles, instead standing to his full height and pulling you into a tight hug. 

“Now, you want to know if I’ve ever thought about having children? Well, to answer your question, I think about it often.”

You perked up at that, raising your head to meet Miguel’s eyes. 

“Really? You do?”

“I do. Especially after seeing you interact with little Roman. The desire is amplified quite a bit then.”

Miguel smiled down at you, and you could feel your heart rate increase. 

“W-well, that’s good to know.” You tried not to expose how flustered you were, but Miguel’s senses weren’t so keen for no reason.

“Aw, does mi bebé want a little mini me? Fret not,” Miguel leaned forward and down, lifting your chin with his fingers, a seductive smirk playing across his lips. 

“Daddy can certainly provide.” 

(And if you and Miguel spent the rest of the night trying to make that very thing happen, well, it was no one’s business but yours.)

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕' 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛. 🤭 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍! 😁

Buy me a Kofi?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider person!reader

[marlynnofmany]

How I Became the Token Human

The sign said “Earthling Wanted” in large print, and I, a perfectly eligible Earthling, said “Heck yeah.” Busy space station life bustled around me as I stepped close to read the details on the holoboard. Other ads were for the usual range of odd jobs and social events, but this one was specific.

And it couldn’t have been more perfect for me. A courier ship was contracted to deliver someone’s pet cat to them in deep space (I guessed that a breakup had happened while the owner was away, or their temporary job had turned into a permanent one) and while the couriers were perfectly capable of getting the cat there, this was several days of travel, and they hadn’t the first idea of how to care for an Earth animal.

Well, I thought with no small amount of smugness, They just got themselves an expert. I copied the holo ad onto my phone, then found a vaguely-private corner of a public seating area and activated the call. I stood up straight and professional, as if I was meeting a wealthy new client with an ailing Samoyed. Would they want a detailed resume? A rundown of the places I’d worked and trained, my range of expertise on animals big and small? Or perhaps a description of what I would do in various unexpected scenarios?

Nope. The octopuslike alien who popped into view — deep green, harried, and female unless I missed my guess — only had two questions for me.

“Great, you look like an Earthling,” she said. “How experienced are you in caring for cats?”

“Very,” I said, ready to add more.

“Good. Can you leave immediately?”

“Yes,” I decided, thinking quickly. “I just have to grab my things. Where’s your ship?”

“Meet us at the semiaquatic spaceport before the shadow covers it.” She glanced at something offscreen. “We leave before the solar sails have to fold. Be quick.” With that, the call ended.

I blinked once, then shoved the phone into my pocket and sprinted down the corridor. Passersby stepped aside and gave me disapproving looks, especially the group of red-pink bugfolk who chattered after me in their own language, but I dodged through the loose crowd without hitting anyone. Nearly tripped over a smaller-than-average Waterwill, which could have been disastrous given their “column of jello” consistency, but I hopped on by with a quick apology.

Are Waterwills really that fragile? I wondered as I ran. My biological studies had all been Earth-based. I knew the best way to hold a chameleon, pet a cat, and catch a chicken, but I hadn’t the foggiest idea how the friendly blobmonsters worked.

Well, maybe I’d find out.

I skidded into my small room and threw things into the suitcase. There wasn’t much to pack, since this was a temporary stop. Five minutes ago I’d been planning to trudge back to Earth and look for a new job. My old workplace was under new management and doing a reshuffling that made for a perfect time to take a quick lap around the galaxy, something I’d always wanted to do. It had been a great vacation. But there wasn’t much call for a veterinarian in space. Or so I’d thought.

One more jaunt, I told myself. It pays well enough to be worth it. And they clearly need my help. With a look about the room for anything I’d missed, I zipped the suitcase and shouldered my backpack, then cancelled the rest of my reservation at the control panel by the door.

A few more button presses, and the door wooshed open to let me dash off through the residential area, towing my suitcase on its repulsor plate behind me. That bag was much better than my old wheelie-case, which was always tipping over when I turned quickly. This one did have a tendency to slide around like a toddler on ice, but I was an old hand now at pulling the strap just right to keep it from taking anybody out at the knees. And honestly, I usually walked at a more reasonable pace than this. But time was short.

I glanced at a multiclock as I passed an elevator hub; sunset was coming for this side of the station. I wondered who had decided to make the station rotate in orbit instead of keeping one side facing the sun, but that was beyond my pay grade. Maybe it got too hot otherwise.

Long lines at the food court made me slow down, edging past a variety of body types before I reached a clear area and picked up speed again.

Success, I thought. Didn’t even bump into a scaly tail. This door? That door!

I found the dry-air-breather’s access port and hurried into the airlocks where steeply angled sunlight was streaming in. I only stopped once, to swipe my ID in exchange for a cheapo force-field exo suit. Just in case the separation of dry air, wet air, and water left anything to be desired. I’d made that mistake once. One experience of scrambling for the emergency cutoff switch in an airlock rapidly filling with water was enough.

Those octopeople breathe dry air, right? I fretted while I retrieved the exo disk. I think so. They just like more baths and moisturizers than I do. I’ll be fine on a ship made for them. Assuming the one I talked to doesn’t live in a scuba suit while onboard. But surely they would have said. Probably.

With my ID back in my pocket and the control disk stuck to my chest (using technology that was basically the inverse of my suitcase), I shoved out into the spaceport in a cloud of my own air. I was greeted by more air, rows of parked ships under a glittering force field between us and the stars, and an impatient-looking green tentacle alien waiting in view of the airlocks. She waved me toward her ship as soon as she saw me.

Strongarms, that’s what they’re called, I remembered. I guess I’ll get a name for this one once we’re on the way. With golden solar sails spread wide, the little round ship looked like a cartoon bat, or maybe a lemon that wanted to be a pirate ship when it grew up. The epitome of dignity either way. I made a note to say nothing about that either.

“Right this way; stand back while the door shuts; the animal is in the cargo bay with more food and junk than any sane creature could eat in the time we’ve got; I’ll introduce you after takeoff.” The green Strongarm didn’t give me a chance to do more than nod as she spoke. “For now, come grab a crash seat in the cabin. I’ll introduce you to the crew after takeoff too.” She sped down the narrow corridor with a quiet slapping of tentacles on the shiny blue floor.

I did my best to keep up, despite having to bend over as I walked. This ship was not designed for a tall species. At least the walls and ceiling were a clean white, not one of those squishy organic ships that made my skin crawl.

“Got the human,” she announced as the door to the cabin spiraled open. She waved several tentacles back at me, one pointing at a chair near the wall that had a fighting chance of fitting me. “Quick-quick.”

I ducked through the sphincter-door (also gross, but less so), waved at the dozen or so random aliens, then shoved my suitcase behind the chair and sat. The chair was cup-shaped and way too small, but at least the back was flexible. I could feel a localized gravity field in place of a seat belt.

These folks have a lot of faith in their ship’s power source, I thought as I lifted my backpack to where it would give me neck support. Here’s hoping we don’t crash. For lots of reasons.

The crew were mostly ignoring me, though in a polite way. Strongarms, Frillians, and a few Heatseekers. Octopeople, colorful fin-covered bipeds who looked like tropical fish that had learned to walk, and little lizardy folks. All air breathers, though two out of three had aquatic origins. As the engine hummed to life, I shut off my exo field.

Damp air caressed my face like someone breathing on me from uncomfortably close. Great. But it was breathable and wouldn’t damage my stuff, and we were already in space, judging by the viewscreen that had just registered some very quick movement. Only stars and a few distant ships were in front of us now.

“All right, introductions!” announced the green Strongarm. “You can call me Kamm. What’s your name, human?”

“Robin Bennett,” I said, sitting up straight. “Earth animal expert at your service.”

Kamm accepted that and rattled off the names of everyone else in the room, then gave a quick rundown of the journey we could expect. Three standard days, no wormholes planned, no asteroid showers or other hoo-ha expected.

And now that we were clear of the space station’s shipping lanes, we could make good time and move about the ship.

Kamm hopped out of her seat and hit the floor with a wet smack. “This way, animal expert. Let’s show you to your charge and your room.”

I grabbed my suitcase and followed, trying to be graceful while simultaneously ducking and high-stepping through the door. It was like walking around in a kids’ playhouse.

At least the cargo bay had a properly high ceiling. It also had many boxes of cargo, and one metal cage with a very distressed cat. The I-don’t-want-to-be-here yodel echoed off every wall.

“Well, there it is,” said Kamm with a wince. “It’s been this loud the whole time. I hope that’s not a cause for alarm?”

“Not the sound alone, no,” I said. “Let me take a quick look. Hey, kitty.” I approached with a gentle voice and quiet footsteps.

The tone of the cat’s yowling changed when it saw me, aiming for pity over volume. Poor little gray tabby sounded very lonely. A nameplate with paragraphs of contact information said “PICKLE” in all caps.

“Hello, Pickle. There there, kitty; it’s okay.” I greeted the cat with a soothing babble of syllables, letting it sniff my fingers through the bars, only noticing once it quieted that Kamm had stayed by the door.

“Oh good,” the alien said. “It likes you. Will you want the whole crate in your quarters, I hope? There’s enough room.”

“Yes, definitely,” I said, standing back up. The cat mewed in protest.

“Great. All the food and whatever should fit too. Grab a sled.”

At Kamm’s directions, I helped maneuver a hoversled under the cage, then down the hall. She led the way with a different sled full of airtight cases covered in labels. Her cart was the more rattletrap of the two, which I appreciated; the supplies wouldn’t be bothered by any jolts in height, but an anxious cat sure would.

Pickle yowled all the way to my quarters. Our quarters, rather. Kamm was eager to rush off once I said I had everything in hand, and I couldn’t blame her. But the noise stopped as soon as the door shut.

“Mew?”

“All right, kitty,” I said as I took off my backpack. “That door seems solid, so you probably won’t run off and get stuck under the brake pedal, or however they fly this ship. Do you want to come out?”

Pickle didn’t, when I opened the door, but I made myself comfortable on the floor by the cage and read through the info packet that had popped up on my phone. Pickle was a girl cat, five years old, spayed, fond of cheese and toys that crinkled.

Eventually she crept out to accept some gentle scritches and a warm lap. I was considering moving to the giant squishy cushion that passed for a bed when the door chimed.

“Ow!” Those claws were sharp when Pickle launched off me to hide in the carrier. I got to my feet painfully, shut the small door, then opened the big one. The ceiling was low in here too.

A maroon-and-teal Frillian stood there, just barely short enough to stand normally in the hallway. “Did you bring food, or would you like to join us for a meal?”

I looked back at the quiet cat. “I do have some ration bars, but I wouldn’t mind meeting everyone properly. Let me dig out some food for my charge here, then I’ll be there. Which way…?”

The Frillian gave me directions, then scooted off. I turned to the multiple boxes labeled “food,” and checked the info packet. Pickle had preferences.

But of course she was too scared to eat. I left the tray of high-quality wet food inside the cage alongside a dish of water and a well-chewed toy mouse that promised to have familiar smells. Then I gave her some quiet time.

And I got some fun time! The crew turned out to be outgoing and friendly, with many a joke ready about the types of food that my species was known to eat. They were mostly a carnivorous set, of one kind or another (fish, bugs, rodents; not a T-bone steak among the lot). They weren’t phased by any kind of plant food, but the existence of dairy products as a whole was soundly denounced as vile weirdness.

“Honestly, it makes sense,” I laughed. “Milk is the first food we eat when we’re born, then we found ways to make it into a bunch of other fancy things.”

“Yes, but why?” asked a bright red Heatseeker, his lizardy face intent. “Organic drippings sound like the absolute last choice of edible foods.”

“Spoken by someone who has never tasted ice cream,” I told him. “Or pizza! Those are some of the best foods out there.”

“I’ve heard humans mention pizza before,” said a large gray Strongarm. He gestured with something that looked like an uncut sushi roll. “What actually is it?”

I happily explained, then had to go on a tangent about bread, since that was apparently a weird human thing too.

“Really? None of you folks have food made of processed grains?” I asked, to a row of blank stares. “Guess not, but okay: it’s crushed grain and water with yeast — those are little microscopic creatures that help turn it into proper food — as I understand it, the air bubbles in the finished bread are their farts — I’m not doing a good job of selling this, am I? I swear it tastes good!”

The big Strongarm laughed loudest. “No, but keep going! You were going to circle back to ‘cheese’ and why it’s not rotten.”

I did my best, eventually giving up while insisting that they would probably like at least some of my species’ barbaric dishes if they ever got a chance to try them. It was a fun conversation. And the food was all right too. A bit fishy, but I’d had worse.

I was sad to see the meal end, with everyone scattering off to their various tasks, some of which might have been fun to help with: untangling cords or organizing cases or deciphering random space messages. But my duty was with the cat.

Pickle was caterwauling loud enough to be heard from the end of the hallway. I hurried in and comforted her again, opening the cage and settling in to rest on the cushion-bed with her snuggled next to me.

With nothing else to do, I drifted off into a nap that was more restful than expected, given the alien bed. I woke, braved the alien bathroom, then went back to sleep. Even after the vacation I’d been taking, it was a bizarre luxury to have no demands on my time. I didn’t even know what kind of day/night cycle this ship was on.

And it didn’t matter. I slept as much as I needed to, ate a couple ration bars, fed and played with Pickle, and I read a book I’d been meaning to get around to. It was nice.

Crew members showed up occasionally to invite me to meals, but otherwise I spent the whole trip in my quarters. And as much as I enjoyed the camaraderie of dinnertime, the guilt I felt every time I returned to piteous meows kept me from staying out longer.

I really would have liked to, though. They even had a music night with instruments I’d never heard of. There were spares that I was welcome to try.

But Pickle had been scratching at the cage the last time I returned, and if she tore a claw because I wanted to know what an alien trumpet sounded like, then I would have failed in my duty.

So I stayed with the cat who purred like an outboard motor, and I did some more reading. It was still nice. Peaceful. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to take a turn at the radio station, listening for gossip and distress calls and triple-encoded secret messages.

The end of the trip caught me off guard. Kamm showed up with a ten-minute warning before the time we needed to have the crate stowed in the cargo bay, and me seated in the cabin.

“Already?” I blurted. “Right, I’ll be packed up in a jiff. Got the sleds?”

In the rush of gathering things, ushering Pickle back into the carrier, and hurrying to the cargo bay, I didn’t really have time to Feel Things about the trip ending.

But I felt them anyway. I’d miss my little snuggle buddy. I hoped she had a good life ahead of her.

The man waiting at the spaceport a few minutes later, as close to the landing pad as he was allowed, was a grizzled old space marine type. Stereotypes said he would have been more at home with some vicious beast as a pet, but I’d seen enough mismatched owners in my time to just smile at how eagerly he waited. And the way his face lit up at the sight of his cat was heartwarming.

Pickle’s distressed meows turned to welcoming mews when her human scritched her through the bars. I didn’t have to remind him that he owed money before he could take her away; he was on top of that. Though I’m sure Kamm would have made sure if necessary. The two of them handled the transaction with speed. Then to my surprise, he opened the cage there on the landing pad.

Pickle clawed her way up his thick jacket to settle purring onto his shoulders, like this was where she was meant to be. Maybe it was.

“Thanks so much for bringing her to me,” the man said to Kamm, with a nod to me as well. “Gonna introduce her to the new family; now everyone I love is in one place.”

Kamm said a polite goodbye while I gave him a warm smile and wiggled my fingers at Pickle. The cat gave me a slow blink, purring hard and nuzzling his chin. Then the pair of them walked off to the rest of their lives.

“Come grab your stuff,” Kamm told me. “He left a big tip, which I’ll pass over to you. No way we could have done a thing to calm that creature ourselves.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It was my pleasure.” It really had been; going home seemed anticlimactic now. It was just a pity I hadn’t been able to socialize with the crew more. They were good people.

I followed Kamm back into the ship for the last time — or so I thought, until a pair of crew members called from the radio station about a message from their sister ship.

“They had a fuel leak, and only managed to coast into orbit of a moon four days out,” said the small Frillian. “They need fuel, repair supplies, and extra food for their cargo.” He looked from Kamm to me. “I don’t know what planet the cargo is from, but if you don’t have to be anywhere just yet…?”

I grinned. “I don’t, as a matter of fact. I’ll happily come along if you’ll have me.”

Kamm flipped a tentacle in what was probably a shrug. “Why not? It worked out well just now. And I want to see if you can play a flange horn.”

“Me too!” I said. “Let me just grab some provisions before we go. At least one of you folks has to try pizza.”

This was years ago now. I never did get a regular job back on Earth, and I don’t regret it one bit.

(A couple crewmates did regret the pizza, but at least it was funny.)

~~~

This is official backstory connecting these comics with this novel. Robin has had a lot of adventures, and is about to have more!

#the Token Human #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is a deathworld #haso #hfy #earth is space australia #eiad #writeblr #my writing #humans #aliens #cats #in spaaace #Robin Bennett #the spacefaring veterinarian and human-at-large #once again explaining cheese to nonhumans #always a fun conversation

[devils-dares]

Could I request Matt Murdock x wife!reader, just something with them, they have a toddler aged child (named after Matt’s dad). Maybe hurt/comfort. Thank you

wordcount: 1383

warnings: assault, bit of blood, daredevil is daredevilin', hospital

-----

“C’mon buddy, let’s get home.” You felt bad, almost dragging Jack home from urgent care. He’d been steadily getting more and more sick, so you’d decided to take him tonight. One hand gripped his little hand and the other scrunched the brown bag with his prescription inside. You’d made him some soup earlier, and wanted nothing more than to give him a bath and put him to bed, and then fall into your husband’s arms to sleep.

“Care to help me out, Miss?” You hear a voice call out, presumably to you, but you keep on walking. You could hear the man grumble and the jingle of the coins in the can quieten, but you thought nothing of it as you slightly quickened your pace, deciding your best bet would be to pick Jack up as he was struggling to keep up with you.

“Mommy?” He whined, presumably upset with the pace you were keeping, bouncing him up and down on your hip with the speed.

“I know honey, but we gotta make it home. Don’t you wanna surprise Daddy before he gets home?” He nods enthusiastically, hiding his face in your neck.

“Mommy, that man is catching up with us.” Jack says, his dad having taught him about being vigilant of his surroundings.

“Yeah, bug?” You say, trying your best not to sound nervous, trying to dig into your pockets to find your phone and dial Matt.

You never made the call.

The man had grabbed you by the waist, practically throwing you into the alley next to you. Jack had landed safely, but you landed on your back. Sitting uo, vision blurry, you reach a hand to the back of your head where it had made contact with the ground, warm blood seeping onto your fingers. Your phone had skidded away from you, the cracked screen tauntingly displaying your husband’s picture and phone number.

“What’s in the bag?” He asks, gesturing a knife wildly to the prescription bag on the floor.

“Sir, please-” You try to reason with him.

“I asked you a question!”

“It’s flu medication! Flu medication for my son, please there’s nothing of worth in there.” He dumps out the bag on the ground, a bottle of medication rattling on impact. He picks it up and checks the label, and he must have realized that it was no worth to him as he threw it on the ground. You gesture to Jack, and he makes a mad dash to position himself behind you.

“You’ve gotta have somethin’ of worth on you, lady.” He turns the knife towards you, but before he can make impact, a sickening crunch of bones interrupts him, landing him against the ground in a rough fashion.

“Leave them be.” A voice rang out, one that sent chills down your spin as well as a feeling of warmth and comfort. The man foolishly takes a swing at Matt, and his actions are met with yet another hard impact.

You pull Jack into your lap, covering his eyes and ears so he doesn’t have to witness his father’s other personality. Matt pulls the other man up by the collar of his shirt, pushing him up against the bricks and throwing his fist, not stopping until you mutter his name under your breath.

“Get lost,” he says, “I don’t even want to find you messing with anyone else.” The man nods, sprinting away with gashes across his face to escape Matt.

“Daddy!” Jack runs over to Matt as he kneels down, burying his head in Matt’s shoulder.

“Hi buddy.” His voice is still hoarse from the grunting and the adrenaline running through his veins.

“Can you grab your medicine and Mommy’s bag while I check on her?” Jack nods and Matt plants a kiss on his head before getting up to check on you.

“Where’s the blood coming from?” He asks, voice softening with use.

“My head, back of my head.” He takes his glove off, gingerly weaving his fingers through your strands of hair, stopping when he feels the warmth of blood and your quiet whimper.

“You’ll have to go to the hospital for this,” he says, “they have to make sure it isn’t a concussion.”

“Can you come with?” You ask.

“Course I can. I just gotta run home to change. Is it alright if I drop you off there?” You nod. He stands, reaching his hands out to take yours and help you stand. He turns to Jack.

“Can you hand Mommy her purse?” He nods, your purse almost dragging on the floor because of how small your son is.

“Matty, what-”

“Don’t worry your head about that. I’ll drop you off, take him home, and then change and meet you at the hospital.” He presses a kiss to your lips, and then leans down to carry Jack on his back.

“Are you holding on tight?” He asks, and Jack hums his agreement.

“I can walk on my own,” you say, Matt immediately taking a defensive stance, “I can make it, it’s only a few blocks.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I can make it. Keep Jack safe and make sure he takes his meds, I’ll see you when you put on appropriate clothes.” He shakes his head.

“Fine, but I’m following you all the way.”

“Okay.”

He’d called Claire while following you, asking her to take care of you. She agreed, and was there to bring you in from the door. Your cracked phone buzzed a few minutes later, a message appearing from Matt saying he and Jack had made it home.

“Is it throbbing?” Claire asks.

“Starting to.”

“Hm, that’s the adrenaline wearing off.” She separates your hair, cleaning off the sticky blood with alcohol wipes to make sure the bleeding has stopped. She does her assessment, diagnosing you with a concussion, and keeps you there for monitoring.

“Matt’s here,” she says after about twenty minutes, “he brought the kid.” Sure enough, you hear the stomping of little shoes running down the hallway towards your room, little four-year-old sneezing and sniffling Jack pushing himself up onto your bed.

“Mommy!” He shouts, nuzzling up to you. You laugh, watching him burrow his way into your blankets. Claire pats Matt on the shoulder, and he turns his attention towards you once she steps out.

“Hey,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “how are you feeling?”

“Head’s throbbing, but I’ve got Doctor Jack,” you tickle his sides and he giggles, “to take care of me.” Matt smiles down at the two of you, reaching up to remove his glasses.

“I was telling Daddy, he went ‘boom!’ and ‘pow!’ and he scared that man off, Mommy! Did you see? Daddy looked so cool!” Jack excitedly babbles.

“I did see, bug, but you gotta keep that a secret, okay?” You say.

“Daredevil is my favorite superhero.” He says, and Matt grins widely.

“Okay, buddy. Let’s get on this couch and let Mommy get some sleep, okay?” He nods, reaching his arms up towards Matt, who takes him and lays him on top of his chest.

“Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy.” He says, voice still nasally but sounding just a bit brighter.

“Goodnight, Jack, we love you.” You say, turning over and letting sleep take you.

Matt stays awake, the background noise of the hospital too loud to rest. Jack is mouth breathing on his chest, and he can’t get mad at the kid either, he’s getting over a nasty flu, and the patient in the room next door has a wheezing issue. His head aches.

“Matt?” He hears your voice call out.

“What is it? Are you in pain?” He whispers back.

“No, but I can hear you thinking.”

“It’s just loud,” he sighs, “struggling to rest.” He hears you sit up, rummaging around somewhere.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Here, catch.” You toss him a small container.

“What’s this?”

“Earplugs. Just enough to block out most of the sound, but not enough to block out what’s near you.”

“You didn’t have to.” He says, slipping them in. Sure enough he can still hear your’s and Jack’s heart beats, but not the wheezing next door anymore, or the beeping a few floors away.

“How’s that feel?” You ask.

“It feels amazing, thank you.”

“Love you, Matty.”

“Love you too.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock request #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x wife!reader #matt murdock x wife reader #dad matt murdock #dad!matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil

[mochegato]

If You Bring a Friend to Dinner...

Kon eyed the multiple laptops Tim had scattered around himself as he lounged on the couch in the manor’s living room, not as hard as he was side eying Tim’s outfit, but he was still eying the technology situation hard.  “Why are you researching this today?  And why aren’t we doing this in the cave?”

“I’m bored and you know Bruce’s rule about suits in the cave,” Tim answered without taking his eyes off his screen except to switch to looking at a different laptop’s screen.  “Also, I’m not changing.”  He motioned to his quite comfy, oversized, fluffy dark hoodie, which gave the impression of an adult version of a toddler’s bear coat.  The only thing it was missing was little ears on the hood.

“Lazy,” Kon scoffed and collapsed onto the opposite couch, feet hanging over the arm.

“Comfortable,” Tim corrected, now looking at the third laptop.

“You look ridiculous. You should be embarrassed,” Kon grumbled.

This finally made Tim stop and look up.  “Of all the things I’ve done, this is what you think I should be embarrassed about?  Buddy, this isn’t even in the top hundred this year alone,” Tim scoffed.  “Besides, I'm not going to see anyone but you and my family today and I don’t care what any of you guys think.”

Kon opened his mouth to tell him that was probably a good thing because what he thought was that Tim look like a spoiled, sorority girl going through a bad breakup.  But instead of passing on this vital knowledge, he snapped his mouth shut and lifted his head to angle it toward the rest of the manor.  “No way,” he muttered under his breath.

Tim sat up straight, immediately switching to mission mode and scouring the Watchtower’s feed scanning for any crises popping up anywhere in the world.  “What is it?” he demanded, his blood pressure steadily increasing with each negative result.

“No way,” Kon repeated again.  He bolted up off the couch and flew out the door toward the west wing, moving so quickly, it was close to being literal.  Tim rushed after him with absolutely no hope of catching him even if he hadn’t taken a few extra seconds to carefully displace his laptops.

Kon skidded to a stop at the end of the west wing’s hallway barely missing colliding into the two figures that had stopped in the middle of the hallway, the woman clearly didn’t let her significantly smaller stature hold her back as she stood staring up the other man, hands on her hips with a cocky smirk on her lips while the man didn’t look chastened in the least.  The woman eeped and jumped back at the sudden intrusion while the man sighed heavily, the amused uptick to his lips dropping instantly.  “What are you doing here?” he glowered.

“And good to see you too, Damian,” Kon grinned.  He took a step to the side just in time to avoid Tim bowling into him as he rounded the corner but grabbed his arm to help him skid to a stop before running into the other two.

Damian leaned back and crossed his arms as he glowered at their dumbfounded stares.  “Oh good, the peanut gallery.”

Tim and Kon would have responded any other time, heartily dished back the attitude Damian was giving them, but they were too dumbfounded at seeing Damian with a friend other than Jon, a female, non-hero friend, to really register his words.

The woman waited a few beats, looking back and forth between them before deciding to take matters into her own hands.  She grinned at them and held out her hand.  “Hi!  I’m Marinette.”

Tim stared at the hand, still too dumbfounded to register what was going on.  He leaned back closer to Kon, “What the fuck is happening right now?”  He meant to whisper, and technically, he did, but it was still loud enough to travel crystal clear to both Marinette and Damian.

“It’s a hand… you shake it as a greeting,” she explained slowly.

Tim blinked a few times before he reached out and shook her hand woodenly.  He looked over at Damian while still holding her hand, eyes wide in shock.  “You brought someone home.”  He didn’t realize he was still holding her hand until she chortled quietly at his astonished tone, only then letting go of her hand and offering her a sheepish smile.

“Obviously,” Damian retorted.  He pretended to flinch when the woman elbowed him in the ribs and sighed dramatically.  “This is my friend Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette, this is…”

“She’s a gir…” Kon cut in.  His eyes darted to Damian for just a second before returning to the woman in front of him.  “You're a girl,” Kon stated to her, meeting her eyes with an incredulous stare as though she should understand why that was so problematic to his world view.

She straightened instantly and her eyes hardened.  “Yeah, well spotted.  Good job.  Now do something impressive, like figure out what you are.  I'm guessing cryptid,” she snapped with a coldness he hadn’t anticipated from someone dressed in so many pastels.

He blinked like he was really seeing her for the first time and leaned back to better view her with an assessing once over and raised an amused eyebrow as his lips curled up in a smile, “Nah, that's usually Tim.  He dresses for it and everything,” he motioned toward Tim’s hoodie.  “I’m a different type of legendary beast.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.  “I’m more one of the tall, sexy creatures that visit maiden’s dreams.”

“No, you aren’t,” Damian declared.

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, her eyes narrowing.  “Like a Liderc maybe,” she scoffed. 

Kon hummed in mock consideration and took a step closer to her.  “Is a Liric…”

“Liderc,” she corrected.

“… tall and sexy?” he finished leaning closer to her.

She pushed him back with a smirk and a finger to his chest.  “Not exactly… more like a little superhuman…”

“Supernatural,” Damian corrected quickly.  He shook his head curtly for Tim without bothering to look over and see the questioning glance he knew must be on his face.

“…creature,” she continued without acknowledging Damian’s interruption with a nonchalance indicative of well-established prior experience, “hatched out of a pod…”  Her smug expression dropped and her eyes unfocused for just a second before she turned to Damian, missing the way Kon’s face froze, “pod?”

“Egg,” Damian answered.  He waited until she’d turned back to Kon before meeting Tim’s eye this time and curtly shaking his head.  Tim raised his eyebrows higher and bobbed his head incredulously.  Damian subtly shrugged then nodded.  Tim’s face stretched in an impressed glower as he returned his attention to the conversation between Marinette and Kon with a renewed interest.

“…egg…” she continued oblivious to the silent conversation behind her, her smug expression fully back in place.

“Pod was more accurate,” Tim snickered just loudly enough for Kon to hear.  Kon huffed and shoved his head away.

“…that flies around and attaches itself to single women,” she finished.

Tim doubled over, the sound of his roaring laughter echoing down the long hallway.  Even Damian grinned at her description and Kon’s flabbergasted expression.  “I thought…” Tim stopped to gasp for breath and grabbed onto Kon’s shoulder for support, “I thought you hadn’t met her yet.  She seems to know you pretty well.”  Kon scowled and shoved his hand off his shoulder, taking a small measure of enjoyment from Tim almost falling over with the loss of support.

“It also helps form the Hungarian word for nightmare,” Damian added with a smirk.

“See, there you go, she thinks you’ll visit her dreams,” Tim chortled and patted Kon’s chest.  “Sounds like you were right after all.”

Damian’s smirk quickly dropped.  “There will be no dream guest appearance except between us,” Damian insisted.  He tugged Marinette a bit closer and into his side, moving her further away from Kon.  “Let me know when Jon arrives.”  Marinette glared at him pointedly.  “I will not say ‘please’ no matter how hard you stare,” he stated, deftly avoiding her eyes and starting to move them out of the hallway.

“I’m not your assistant,” Tim growled.  Damian stopped and raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.  “You got something to say?” Tim asked sharply.

“Oh, I finally get to meet Jon?” Marinette asked, a bit louder than necessary for their proximity, and moved between the two, directly into Damian’s line of sight.

“Yes,” he confirmed as he finally lowered his eyes from the broken staring contest.  His face softened as he continued moving them out of the hallway again.  “He will be here in a little bit.  He said he had something to do first, then he’ll be over and will stay until the New Year’s party tomorrow.  He was quite excited to meet you as well.”

She quirked her head to the side slightly.  “Will he be here in time to…”

“He will indeed,” he cut in sharply.  He frog marched her away from the bedroom wing and toward the east wing before she could ask anymore questions.

“Wait!  Damian, you haven’t introduced us!” Marinette objected and tried to turn around toward the men but had to settle for vaguely motioning over her shoulder.  “I don’t even know their names.”

“Yes, good observation,” he praised with only a hint of condescension in his voice and a bit more force in his hands.

“Damian!” she tried to twist to smack his chest but his hands were unyielding.  “That’s rude.  I don’t want to start out by being rude to your family.”

“First, they are not both family,” he scoffed.  “Second, you called one of them a Lidrerc and I’m being rude?”

“Yes!  That’s different.  And you know it,” she huffed.

He eyed her skeptically but shook it off.  “Third, I tried and they interrupted.  It is their fault if they did not get a proper introduction.  Fourth, and most importantly, they are a waste of our time and attention, and I assure you they will not think of this as a reflection on you.”

“Damian!” She gasped and succeeded this time in twisting under his arm to confront him.

The only concession Damian was willing to give to indicate how impressed he was with her ability to break free from his grasp was a raised eyebrow.  The rest of his face remained stoic, if a little exasperated.  “I’ve known them for almost 10 years now.  I stand by my evaluation,” he intoned as he turned her around again and continued to push her down the hallway.

“I’m so sorry,” she called over her shoulder as she attempted to give them a parting bright smile and wave.

“I’m not,” Damian called just as loudly but without taking his eyes off the path ahead of him.

Tim scoffed and shook his head at their retreating backs.  “He brought someone home… a girl… and she seems…nice… and normal… and nice,” he murmured incredulously.

“Oh, she seems very nice,” Kon agreed, watching just as intently, but focusing considerably more on one of them in particular.

Tim smacked him in the chest.  “No,” he ordered sternly.

“What?” he asked in mock innocence that he couldn’t have pulled off even fresh out of the pod.

“Damian’s friend… well, friend.  You know, I’m not sure what that is,” he motioned vaguely toward the east wing, “but you will not interfere.  Damian doesn’t make friends.  This is big.”

“I haven’t done anything… yet.”  He winked at Tim and started back toward the living room.

“Kon…” Tim started warningly.

“Come on, I’m not going to intentionally hurt him no matter how much of an ass he usually is.”  He grinned devilishly back at Tim.  “Tell you what, you go start the research on her we both know you’re going to do, and I’ll grab some food from somewhere.  I can tell you what I heard them talking about when I get back and why he brought her.”

Tim sighed and jogged to catch up with him, smacking him upside the head as soon as he did.  “Stop listening in on people’s conversations outside of missions.  It’s creepy.”  They made it all the way back to the living room before he broke.  “But since you heard it already, tell me everything when you get back.”

Kon grinned and shrugged on his jacket.  “I’ll bring back Batburger.  That feels like a spilling the tea kind of food.”

><><><><><><><><>< 

“I know where the art room is, you know.  I don’t need an escort,” Jon pointed out as he followed closely behind Kon and Tim on their way down the east wing’s hallway.

“Oh, we’re not escorting you,” Tim corrected.  He met Jon’s eyes over his shoulder with a look that did not comfort Jon at all.

“We’re tagging along,” Kon clarified, giving Jon the same look, which was considerably more concerning for Jon when coming from Kon.

Jon eyed them suspiciously.  “Why?”

“Curiosity,” Tim answered at the same time Kon said, “Interest.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed further.  “Uh huh.  That’s not fishy at all.  I’m not remotely concerned now,” he grumbled.

“Nah, I researched her,” Tim assured him.  He moved to the side and slowed his pace just a fraction to match Jon’s.  “She’s clean.  Seems like a good kid.  Might even be good for Damian.”

Jon nodded unsure how to respond to Tim’s candor.  “Good, well, that’s… that’s good.”  He started to say more, to compliment Tim on looking out for his brother but before he could figure out how to form the words, Kon snorted.

Tim raised an eyebrow.  “What?”

Kon waved him off like it was nothing, but the tightening of his jaw indicated otherwise.  “Nothing.  She's just complementing the composition and contrasts of his art and how talented,” he spit the word out like it personally offended him,“and he is absolutely preening at it.”

Jon smiled.  “It’s good to know she’s supporting him.  He really likes her, which of course he won’t say, but he talks about her a lot.”

“Really?  I hadn’t heard anything until today,” Tim noted curiously.

“Not too surprising,” Jon shrugged.  “Doesn’t really tell you anything about his life, does he?  Dick maybe, but you…”  He let the sentence trail off.  They both knew what Tim and Damian’s relationship was.

Tim grunted a sound similar to an agreement but suddenly smacked Kon upside the head.  “And stop listening in on other people's conversations.  It's creepy.”  They took a few steps before he leaned slightly toward Kon and lowered his voice as though Jon couldn't still hear him and said, “But let me know if he does anything embarrassing.”

Kon grinned and nodded at him with a wink, but his face quickly dropped into a pout as he scowled at the door just a few steps down from them.  Tim looked from Kon to the door slowly, suspicion permeating his expression as he slowly opened the art room door, fully expecting the worst, which is why the fluffy sight in front of him was such a relief.

Damian and Marinette were standing in front of one of his paintings, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist whispering to each other as she pointed to different points in the painting.  Tim looked back at Kon as he stepped into the room and snorted at his deepened scowl at the sweet sight.

The noise knocked the two out of their little bubble, seemingly affecting Damian more than Marinette based on the speed at which he dropped his hand and jumped away from her, causing her to almost fall.  He reached out to push her back into balance but instantly returned his hand behind his back and straightened up to his full height before them.

“Jon, it is good to see you.  Glad you could make it,” Damian welcomed.

“Of course,” Jon said warmly and hugged Damian, which Damian allowed to happen, but didn’t return.  “I’m here for you.”

“We didn’t get that greeting,” Kon chortled.

“No, we did not,” Tim agreed.  “It’s almost like he doesn’t want us here.”

Damian glared at them over Jon’s shoulder.  “It’s not almost like it,” he corrected curtly.  He returned his attention to Jon and continued before they, or Marinette, could respond to or chastise him.  “Jon, this is my friend Marinette.  Marinette, this is my friend Jon.”

Marinette smiled brilliantly, lighting up the entire room, and hugged him.  She backed away just far enough to not share breath.  “It’s so good to meet you!  I feel like I know you already.  Damian talks about you all the time.”

Jon blushed deeply and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away sheepishly.  “Thanks.  It’s really good to finally meet you, too.  He talks about you all the time, too.  Like non-stop.  I can’t wait to spend time with you and get to know you better.”

Marinette, whose smile couldn’t get any bigger, got warmer instead.  “Absolutely.”  She kept his gaze for a few moments before shifting it over his shoulder to the two figures standing behind him and waved.  “Hey again!  Sorry we didn’t get to meet earlier, because Damian is rude,” she added pointedly with a glare to Damian added in, to which Damian shrugged unashamedly, “and didn’t introduce us.  “I’m Marinette.  I believe I heard your name is Tim?” she asked uncertainly, waiting until he nodded before continuing.  “So, you must be Tim Drake, yes?”

“I am” he grinned and ventured further into Damian’s art room than he had ever been allowed to venture before to shake her hand.  “Nice to meet you… officially.”  As soon as she turned her attention to Kon, he smirked at Damian, fully enjoying the glare Damian was shooting him.

Marinette stepped closer to Kon and held her hand out.  “And based on the leather jacket, that would make you Jason Todd?”

Kon sputtered and Tim burst out laughing.  “Uh… no, not Jason,” Kon corrected.

Marinette’s face dropped almost as fast as her hand.  “I am so sorry.  It is nice to meet you...”

Kon stepped forward with a small smile and opened his mouth but before he could comfort her Damian pulled her back closer to him and tried to physically angle her toward Jon and main part of the room.  “His name is unimportant,” he stated firmly, making no doubt that the conversation was over.

Jon shook his head, exasperation bleeding from his expression and tone.  “It’s the holidays.  Be nice, Dame.”

“I don’t see how the time of year should affect my behavior,” Damian sniffed.

Marinette dropped her head into her hands and let out an exasperated sigh.  “Damian…”

Damian sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  That is Jon's brother.”  He tried to angle her toward the room again, but Kon took her hand before he could, moving so quickly, it was dangerously close to exposing his identity.

“Kon.  My name is Kon.  And it is really nice to meet you, Marinette.”

She raised her head slightly and looked up at him, causing her to look through her lashes to meet his eyes, unintentionally taking his breath away.  “Nice to meet you, Kon.”

“No, it’s not,” Damian grumbled and pulled her away from Kon, settling her on his other side next to Jon instead.  He turned to face Kon full on standing between him and Marinette.  “We were in the middle of something.”

“We were just about to go play a game,” Marinette added, popping up over his shoulder.

“We were not.”

“I’d love to play a game,” Jon cheered.  Marinette grinned brilliantly at him and clapped like the decision was made.

Damian groaned dramatically and motioned toward the hallway.  “Fine.  The game room is down the hallway.”

Marinette nodded and started toward the hallway but froze mid-step.  “You have a room just for games?”

Kon chuckled, taking more pleasure than he should from the fact that she’d stopped directly in front of him.  “Rich people,” he shrugged.

She nodded contemplatively like that explained everything but suddenly popped up.  “Oh!  I know!  Do you have Candyland?”  She looked back to Tim and Kon with a wicked grin.  “I get the feeling that's a game Damian would absolutely hate.”  She made a noise somewhere between a squeal and exclamation and twirled in excitement at the prospect of Damian playing the game, heading out the door in full confidence he would follow her.

“It's pure luck!” Damian exclaimed following after her as expected.  “There is no skill involved at all!”

“That's the point,” Jon chuckled.  He jogged up to them and slung his arms over both their shoulders.

“What's the point if you can't win through your skills,” Damian grumbled.

“It's just supposed to be for fun,” Marinette chided.

“That does not sound fun,” he huffed petulantly.  “It sounds like a children’s game.”

“It is a children’s game,” Jon laughed.

Damian stared at him incredulously.  “Then why are we playing?”

“Because you’re just a big kid,” Marinette snarked, her smirk only growing in response to Damian’s aghast look.  She turned back toward Tim and Kon who had stayed next to the art room door watching their interactions in wonder.  “Did you guys want to join?

“They are far too busy,” Damian assured her hastily and loudly.

“Nah, we’re completely open,” Kon grinned.  “And I’ve never even heard of Candyland.”

Marinette gasped loud enough Kon didn’t need to use his superhearing to detect it even from down the hall.  She tried to turn back to them but Damian reached around Jon to keep her facing forward.  “Damian, he’s never even heard of it!  We have to let him play now.”

“We do not.”

“Oh, come on, Dame, it will make it more fun,” Jon insisted.  His voice and eyes were filled with an excitement that Marinette seemed to feed off of, her own smile growing at Jon’s response.

Damian looked between them, his petulant frown staying firmly in place, but he let go of Marinette’s arm and continued forward, knowing full well she and Jon would take it as an agreement.  “Including Drake has never made anything more enjoyable.”

“Come on,” Tim snickered.  “Now I have to play.  Plus, I bet she's right about Candyland and I want to see Damian restraining himself from ripping the board in half as he pretends to be normal for her.”

><><><><><><><><>< 

As it turns out, Marinette was, in fact, correct.  Damian absolutely hated the game.  If he had laser vision, the ice cream turrets on the Candy Castle would have been eviscerated.  “This is stupid,” he groused as Marinette’s piece landed on the final rainbow square.  He punctuated his displeasure by crossing his arms and pushing away from the table.  He could have handled Marinette winning once, but three times was uncalled for.

“Cheer up, Damian,” she tried consolingly.  “It’s just for fun.  It has nothing to do with your skills.”

“It’s a game of luck, remember,” Jon chimed in, which was easy for him as his pieces were usually not far behind Marinette’s while Damian kept getting picture cards that inevitably sent him back toward the beginning of the board.

“Yeah,” Damian glared at Kon, “luck.”

Kon looked to the ceiling innocently and mimed whistling.  At the same time, Marinette reached up to touch her earrings guiltily, “and I do tend to be a bit lucky.  Sorry.”

Kon opened his mouth to ask if meeting him was an example of getting lucky, but before he could say the line that would definitely end in him getting hit with kryptonite-laced brass knuckles, Dick bounded into the room.

“There you guys are!”  He smiled at all of them, but his eyes kept darting back to Marinette.  He couldn’t stop moving, shifting from foot to foot and rubbing his hands as he waited exceptionally impatiently for her to be introduced.

Damian finally stepped up for the task, standing tall in front of Dick and motioning toward her.  “Marinette, this is my brother Richard Grayson.  Richard, this is my friend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Marinette, it is nice to meet you,” Dick grinned, his grin widening as he looked between her and Damian.  He took her hand with both of his to shake it, pumping it so hard in his excitement he was almost lifting her off the ground.  “Please call me Dick.”

“And you,” she agreed breathlessly.  It took a few moments after she reclaimed her hand before she could speak again.  “He speaks very highly of you.”

Dick’s eyes sparkled as he watched Damian sidle closer to Marinette, dipping his head just slightly to catch her eye, raising an inquisitive eyebrow and only looking away again once she nodded back to him, but made sure to put his arm around her again.  “He speaks of you at all,” Dick grinned, “so I know you must be important to him.”

Marinette blinked and plastered on a smile.  “Thank you.”  She waited until he’d dropped her hand before adding a quiet, “I think.”

Kon joined her on her other side and smirked.  “Don’t worry, when Damian is involved, that’s a compliment.”  Marinette pursed her lips and bobbed her head to the side nodding after a moment in agreement.

“Now, the reason I was really sent in, not that meeting you wasn’t absolutely at the top of my list,” he added to Marinette.  “Dinner is about to be served.  Alfred would like us to start getting seated.”  He glanced over at Kon and eyed him for a second before adding, “you should lose the jacket before Alfred sees it at his table.”

Kon glanced down and looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, but finally nodded.  “Right.  Be right back.”

“Take your time,” Dick called as he replaced him by Marinette’s side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put the game away,” Tim called after them.

“Thank you!” Dick called back to him.  “So, you’ll get to meet almost the entire family.  Cass and Stephanie are living in Hong Kong, but we hope they’ll make it for tomorrow.  Hey!” he called out after a large man shoulder-checked him.  “And that is Jason.”

Jason turned around and did a double take at Damian’s arm around Marinette’s shoulders.  He looked up from the display to look between them.  “What in the fuck knuckles…”

“Dude…” another man mumbled as he shook his head.  He sighed and looked back up with a strained smile.  “Sorry about him.  Hi, I’m Duke.”

Marinette grinned at him and reached out to shake his hand.  “It’s okay.  I’m Marinette and I do like Pink and making pies, so…” she shrugged then snickered at Damian’s bewildered look.  “But there is an important difference,” she met Jason’s eyes pointedly but not unkindly.  “We are just friends.”

Jason raised an eyebrow but nodded and moved to take a seat on the far side of the table.  “Impressed.  Honestly did not think you’d know that one.”

She scoffed.  “I have some pretty depraved friends.”

Jason mock gasped, drawing his hand to his chest to accentuate the scandal of the situation.  “Depraved!  Depraved?  Liking that movie makes you depraved?”

Duke patted him on the shoulder as he took a seat next to him.  “Sounds fair.”

“Oof,” Kon grunted as he walked in.  “Hate to think what that says about me.”

“Probably something pretty accurate,” Damian clipped.  “Marinette, you remember my father.”

Marinette straightened instantly at the figure walking in from the opposite side of the room.  “Of course.  Nice to see you again, M. Wayne.”

“And you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.  Welcome to our home.  I hope your showing went well,” he answered warmly.

“It did, thank you,” she smiled back.

“Are you an artist?” Dick asked as he took his seat next to Duke, to the left of the head of the table.

“A designer, actually,” Marinette offered.

“A brilliant designer,” Bruce corrected.  “I was quite impressed,” he assured Marinette firmly as he took his seat as well.

“I’d love to see it sometime,” Tim smiled.

Marinette blushed brightly but nodded with more confidence than she felt.  “Okay.”

She eyed where Tim had sat, two seats away from M. Wayne, and Kon making his way to sit between him and M. Wayne, and knocked her arm into Damian, looking pointedly at the last seat next to Bruce.  Damian nodded and cut in front of Kon to take the seat.  Kon blinked at him but quickly changed course to sit on the other side.  Jon stepped up next to Marinette and looked between the two remaining seats, one next to Kon and one next to Jason.  He looked at Marinette questioningly.  She shrugged and took the seat closest to her, next to Kon.  Jon nodded and sat next to Jason.

Tim leaned around Kon to verify that was really where Marinette had sat.  He was about to offer to switch spots with her so she could sit next to Damian, but Alfred entered at that moment and started serving the food.  As it turned out, she was fine where she was.  Marinette integrated with the family easily, laughing and joking with all of them.  It may have worked out better that way anyway as it gave her the chance to chat with Jon and Kon about Metropolis and get more information on the city before she decided if she wanted to move there after graduation.

The dinner was going amazingly so naturally it had to get cut short.  Everyone in the family knew something was wrong the moment Alfred entered mid-course.  “Sorry to interrupt, sir.  But there appears to have been an incident at Wayne Enterprises.”  Alfred leaned over and whispered in Bruce’s ear.  Whatever he said must have been really bad because he immediately stiffened, but in the blink of an eye, it was gone.  He gave Dick a pointed look.  He nodded at him, then bumped Duke and nodded to Jason.

Bruce stood up quickly, dabbing his mouth with his napkin, quickly followed by the other three men, although they didn’t bother to wipe their mouths.  “So sorry for the interruption, Marinette.  Please continue your night.  It was very nice to see you again.”  He was gone before Marinette could say goodbye.

Damain stood and moved over to Marinette whispering in her ear too low for anyone but Kon and Jon to hear.  She squealed and hugged him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he straightened up.  Jon rounded the table to clap him on the back as well.  Damian nodded to the two of them then followed the others as they made their way out the door at a considerably slower pace than Bruce.

“You don’t have to come, Dame,” Dick whispered just outside the door.  “We have four people, we’re good.  If we need another, we can call for Tim.  Stay and keep your friend company.”

Damian glanced back into the room.  Marinette was smiling at something Jon was saying, which apparently required him to use both hands in uncoordinated movements.  He snickered at the scene.  “No, she will be okay where she is.  I won’t ignore my duty.”

Duke shook his head.  “We really need to work on your skills, man.”

Damian looked at him affronted.  “My skills are impeccable.  It’s your skills that need honing.”

Duke opened his mouth to respond but shut it and shook his head instead.

><><><><><><><><>< 

The mission had taken considerably longer than the family had anticipated, but seeing as it was a rogue team up, it wasn’t entirely surprising.  The only thing that was surprising, was the fact that Damian wasn’t acting like more of a constipated gremlin.  In fact, he was positively beaming, well, not glowering, which for Damian was roughly the equivalent of beaming.

Nobody knew what to make of it.  The mission had taken him away from his friend for almost the entire night and he seemed… happy about it.  Nobody who had seen them together earlier doubted he cared about her, so the fact that he was so blasé about having left her behind for so long, even to do something he valued so thoroughly, was confusing.  Even now as they walked into the living room, he wasn’t leading the pack to get to her sooner.

Which was a small mercy because it meant he didn’t have to be the first to see what they were seeing.  “What the hell is going on!” Dick roared.

Marinette’s head jerked away from Kon, their lips separating with a pop.  She eeped and tried to jump away from Kon, but he held her tight against him, allowing her to bury her face in his chest to hide her bright crimson cheeks.

“Oh damn,” Duke mumbled, eyes wide in surprise.

Kon kept one arm right around her and waved with the other.  “Hey guys.  You’re back early.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Jason hissed.

Kon scrunched his face slightly and looked to Dick for a clue, but his expression was just as thunderous.  He quickly shifted to Tim who shrugged, just as confused about the reaction as Kon.  “Uh… sorry I didn’t help?” he offered.

“Oh, no, its okay, you were too busy helping yourself,” Dick seethed.

“Helping my…” Kon trailed off.  He gaped at Dick and opened and closed his mouth a few times but before he could formulate how to respond Damian finally came in, his eyes down as he focused on dusting off his shirt, missing the way the entire room had stopped to watch him.

It took several more steps before he finally sensed the hostile atmosphere of the room.  He froze mid-brush and slowly lifted his head to take in the scene, just as slowly panning across the room until it settled on Kon’s arms around Marinette.  He lifted his eyes up, pausing momentarily at her hands on his chest.  His eyes snapped to hers.  “What are you doing!  How could you do this to me?” he yelled.  Marinettes eyes widened in shock and confusion while the rest of the room except Kon moved to comfort Damian.  “That is the wrong brother!”

“Excuse me?” Conner growled.

“Uh… what?” Duke asked uncertainly.

“You were supposed to end up with Jon not him!” he growled, moving in Marinette’s face and motioning harshly toward Kon.

Dick’s hands that were still perched from having been rubbing circles on Damian’s back slowly retracted.  “Wait.  I thought... why would you want that?”

Damian huffed and crossed his arms over his chest again, evoking the image of a child throwing a temper tantrum.  “Because it would be extremely convenient for me if my two best friends were dating.”  Tim had the misfortune of snorting when everyone else in the room had gone frighteningly quiet.  Damian’s eyes shot to him.  He pointed at Tim accusingly.  “She was supposed to end up with my idiot not your idiot.”

“That's why you brought me?”  Marinette asked.  “You said you wanted me to be here to support you while you spoke with your father because I made you feel better.  But you were just trying to pimp me out?”  Kon’s grip on her tightened at the hurt lacing her voice.  Damian’s eyes zeroed in on the movement and Dick had to adjust to holding him back instead of comforting him.

“I was not pimping you out!” Damian objected more annoyed than concerned.  “There was no payment involved and sex was entirely up to you.”

Marinette stared at him incredulously.  “Oh, thank you for that,” she snapped.

“You’re welcome,” he nodded, seemingly satisfied with her gratitude.

“She's not... isn't she here with you?” Jason asked carefully.

“Yes, she is here with me as my friend.  I brought her here so she could meet Jon and start dating him,” Damian gritted out.

“So... you two aren't dating or pre-dating?” Dick asked again, hoping Damians answers this time would somehow make more sense.  He had been so absolutely confident that they were just dancing on the edge of dating.

“Obviously.”

Dick stared at Damian, his answer not making the situation make more sense.  The room was completely still for a few moments before Duke finally broke the silence.  “What is pre-dating?”

Dick blinked at him.  “It’s when… it’s like before you’re dating.”

Duke shot him the flattest look he could manage.  “Yeah, thanks, got that from the ‘pre’ part.  I know how the English language works.”

“It’s when you’re laying the groundwork.  You haven’t actually asked them out yet but you both know it’s just a matter of time,” Dick clarified, his hands waving around in a pattern that seemed to accentuate his point in his mind but seemed completely non-sensical to everyone else.

Duke studied him.  “Do you both have to know?  What if it’s a surprise to the other when the one asks them out?”

“Still counts,” Dick answered at the same time Jason said, “That’s one-sided pining,” and Tim said “That’s just real life.”  They stared at each other in confusion.

“Hold up!” Kon cut in.  “I’m not an idiot.”

Damian scoffed.  “Based on how long it took you to figure out I’d insulted you; you appear to be mistaken.”

“You thought I was dating him?” Marinette asked, finally breaking away from Kon’s chest, though his arms were still resting lightly on his waist to direct the question to the rest of his family.  “We said we were just friends… multiple times.”

“Yeah,” Dick started slowly, “but I thought... right.  No, we knew that,” he finished as casually as he could manage.

She wiggled out of Kon’s embrace, much to his enjoyment, so she could step closer to Damian and smack him on the chest.  “I told you they would think we were dating no matter what we said.”

Damian rolled his eyes.  “And I told you they would figure it out.”  He motioned vaguely toward the rest of the room without taking his eyes off her. “Look at that they have.”

“Hey guys!” Jon greeted everyone as he tucked his phone in his back pocket.  “Welcome back.  Oh hey, you two finally separated.  Nice.  Perfect timing.”

Damian stared at him for a few seconds before rounding on Marinette.  “You've ruined the entire plan,” he growled at her.  “You were supposed to be here not separating from him!”  He motioned toward Jon.

“Well, you didn't tell me the plan, did you?” she hissed back.  “It helps to have collaboration on a plan when you INFORM YOUR COHORTS WHAT THE PLAN IS.”

“Yeah, Damian,” Jon added.  "It wouldn't have worked anyway.  I'm dating someone else."

“What?” Damian exclaimed, rounding on Jon.  “When did that happen?”

“A few weeks ago.  I was going to introduce you at the party tomorrow.  I just got off the phone with him,” he motioned toward his pocket.

“You cannot be dating someone,” Damian scoffed.  “I didn't approve of anyone.  I haven't done research on them.”

Jon and Mari let out matching scoffs.  "I don't need your approval to date someone," Jon reminded him.

"We are not chess pieces you can move around at your will to suit your whims," Marinette chided. Damian glared at her, a calculating look in his eyes.

"She was not issuing a challenge," Jon cut in before Damian could make any plans.

Damian huffed and rolled his eyes.  "You're more like checker pieces anyway.  Maybe even Candyland."

“So... you're not mad about...”  Dick motioned between Mari and Kon.

“Furious,” Damian huffed.

Mari rolled her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.  The fact that he didn’t shrug her off signaled to the rest of the family more about his state of mind than any words either Marinette or Damian had said up until that point.  “But he'll get over it.  Are you guys going to join us for the movie marathon now?”

“You just missed Trading Places,” Jon nodded.

“We missed Trading Places?” Jason gasped.

“I mean, they pretty much did too,” Jon grinned, looking pointedly at Marinette and Kon.

Marinette batted at him, her cheeks blushing profusely, but Kon grinned proudly.  “He’s not wrong.  So, I’m okay with putting it on again.”

“Mon Dieu,” Marinette whimpered.  Kon wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed the crown of her head.  But Damian pushed the two apart with a harumph.

“We will get popcorn while you guys get things set up,” he announced as he pulled her out of the room.  Marinette grabbed Jon’s hand and pulled him along with them.

“So... you and Marinette…” Dick started carefully.

“Yeah…” Kon hedged nervously.

“Congrats,” Duke cut in before Dick could say anything.

“She seems like a good kid,” Jason agreed.

“She's our age,” Kon grumbled.

“But Damian's friend, so a kid,” Tim grinned.

“No.  I'm dating her so we won't be calling her a kid.  No matter what Tim says, I’m not creepy, and that would definitely be creepy,” Kon ordered, voice firm.  He looked between Jason and Tim to make sure they heard him then narrowed his eyes at them.  “But what is creepy?  You two agreeing.”

Dick chuckled and popped up between Tim and Jason, throwing his arms over their shoulders.  “Fair.  Now come on, we need to get the room set up.  Jason, get out the blankets.  Duke, you’re on pillows.  Tim, Kon, and I will work on a plan to keep Damian from killing Kon.”

“I appreciate that,” Kon nodded.

“We got your back,” Jason nodded.

“If only to keep Damian from stabbing you in it,” Duke grinned.

Kon’s appreciative gaze turned flat.  “Thanks.”  Duke snickered as he dropped more pillows on the couches and chairs.  “Come on,” Kon implored, “he brought a beautiful, brilliant, creative, kind woman he wasn’t interested in dating home for the holidays.  He should have known something would happen.  You guys don’t bring people home because of that, right?”

Dick scoffed and threw a pillow at Jason who ducked easily under it before dumping his blankets on one of the chairs.  “I just assume he’ll go after them after we’ve broken up.”

“Hey,” Jason objected.  He threw one of the blankets at Dick.  “I only did that once… that you know of,” he added under his breath.

“What was that?” Dick asked, eyes narrowed.

“Nothing,” Jason said innocently.

“I don’t think we have the same taste,” Tim shrugged.

“I don’t bring anyone around for entirely different reasons,” Duke snorted.

“What reason is that?” Jon asked with a knowing grin.

Marinette and Damian followed closely behind carrying trays.  “We come bearing popcorn!” she cheered, holding up her tray with several bowls of popcorn.

“And candy,” Jon joined in, holding up his own tray with bowls of candy.  “And drinks.”  He motioned with his elbow to the tray in Damian’s hands, who grumbled and rolled his eyes rather than holding up his tray.

“Oh, this looks great!” Marinette squealed and started distributing the blankets.  Jon and Damian angled one of the couches toward the television before plopping down on it.  Marinette was slower to move, her eyes darting to Kon who grinned at her attention.  He reached out to pull her over to the couch he and Tim had just angled toward the television as well, but before he could Damian yanked Marinette down onto the couch with him.

Kon huffed but Marinette broke down in giggles.  When she finally stopped, she scooted closer to Damian and looked pointedly at the space next to her she’d just left free, a space just big enough for someone to fit in snugly.  “Let’s get started,” Damian huffed.

“Can’t wait,” Marinette agreed quietly, her attention squarely pointed away from the television and on the man next to her.

Kon grinned and threw his arm over her shoulders.  “Me either,” he agreed.

Damian made a retching sound and turned his whole body toward the television.  “Disgusting.  Never bringing a friend home again.”

#maribat #marikon #konnette #platonic damianette

[drivinmeinsane]

Snowstorm ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Ten ※ Colt Seavers / Reader

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: You and Colt discover that some gambles don't pay off.

※ Rating: No mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Cuddling for Warmth, Ill-advised Winter Safety Practices, Fluff/Humor

※ Word count: 1998

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

Despite your layers, you’re shivering enough that your teeth feel like they’re going to rattle right out of your skull. It’s hard to imagine that the weather is going to take a turn for the worse when it’s already cold enough in the warehouse that everyone’s breath is visible in front of their faces. This far north by the Great Lakes is always a gamble this time of year. This movie production is certainly not winning the lottery. 

“Alright crew, let's wrap this up,” calls the team lead. 

Everyone picks up speed, finishing their tasks so they can separate into pairs and small groups to carpool back to their temporary housing. Automatically, you gravitate towards Colt. The two of you have been working off and on together for years on various movie sets. Being around him comes as easily and naturally as breathing. It was a massive relief when you were assigned to share an airbnb for the couple months you’re going to be spending here. 

“This sucks, huh?” You comment, helping him to roll up an impact mat. 

He laughs, breath clouding the air. “Yeah, it super sucks.”

The rest of the crew files out while the two of you work, alternating between sweating and freezing. Securing all the impact mats for storage is a miserable task, but it gets done. The building is empty aside from Colt and you. 

The stunt guy straightens up, groaning as his back loudly pops. “Ready to bounce on outta here?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

At the door, the two of you take the time to adjust your layers. Colt wraps your scarf around your head teasingly after offering to help you put it on. You give him a scathing look between the layers of material before you break and the two of you start laughing. Colt is wiping at his eyes, still chuckling a little, when you shove the door open. 

The cold air immediately tears right through your clothes. The hollow thud and click of the door closing and locking behind you both sounds ominous. Colt offers his arm to you and you take it, resigning yourself to the weather conditions. The snow is coming down heavily, making it difficult to see across the sprawling parking. 

Your Lord of the Rings worthy journey to Colt’s truck starts out easily enough, until you wipe out on a snow-covered patch of ice. If it wasn’t for the death grip you have on each other's arms, you would bust your ass right then and there. Instead, you and Colt end up doing a weird dance to try to stay upright. 

“Maybe we should consider a career in couples ice skating. Maybe retire from the stunts biz.” Colt suggests, breathing heavily from the unexpected exertion.

“Toddler level, maybe,” you grumble back, foot skidding again. You hate the fact that the stunt crew has to park clear out of the way on the very fringes of the parking lot. 

You risk a glance at your coworker. His gaze is focused intently on the ground. Snowflakes are collecting in his beard and in his shaggy hair, making his blue eyes appear even bluer. After what feels like an age of taking minuscule steps across a frozen wasteland, you finally spot his garishly colored truck through the snow. You’ve never been happier to see the yellow and brown eyesore. 

Colt helps you up into the passenger seat. Once you're settled, he pushes his tuck keys into your hand. You pass him the windshield scraper in return. It was a new purchase after having to use the airbnb’s dustpan the first morning the two of you had walked out to the vehicle to find it under a thick layer of snow. 

“Start her for me?”

Mumbling an affirmative, you lean over and slot the key into the ignition switch and twist. The truck sparks to life with a smooth rumble. Meanwhile, Colt skirts around the edge of the vehicle. He’s scraping at the windshield, chiseling the packed snow in sheets. He suddenly slips, hitting his sternum on the truck’s grille guard. Upon seeing your horrified expression through the cleared glass, he flashes you a thumbs up and a grimace. You give him the same in return.

Working faster now, he finishes the windshield and makes sure that the side windows and mirrors are clear. He knocks the scraper clean before opening the door and heaving himself into the truck. The stunt man tosses it at your feet onto the already cluttered floorboard. The cold air that followed him into the cab does neither of you any favors.

“You think we’re good, Colt?” You ask, watching him pull off his gloves and tuck them into his sun visor for safekeeping.

“Hope so. If it doesn't get worse we should be fine,” he says with a shrug only to yelp when his bare hands come in contact with the steering wheel. “Shit, that’s cold!”

With the heat on full blast, Colt backs out of the parking lot and then you’re off to the airbnb. He handles the truck expertly. While not used to driving in what is essentially a blizzard, the man has done enough crazy stunts to keep from skidding all over the road. That and his monstrosity of a vehicle with its sizable off-roading tires makes the trip go a little easier. 

“Colt…” You say, worried. The weather is getting worse, much worse. The truck is struggling to maintain traction.

“Yeah, I know, sweetheart.” Both of you are so glued to the increasingly limited visibility and heavier snowfall that neither of you acknowledge the unintentional endearment Colt lets slip.

Spotting a ihop coming up, he makes the choice to pull into the empty lot. There’s no way he’s going to be able to push through. The weather is just too bad for his vehicle. The restaurant is clearly closed. This isn’t the southern part of the United States where there’s a Waffle House around to keep its doors open no matter the situation.

“There’s no way a tow truck is going to be able to get out here, is there?” You comment rhetorically. 

Beside you, Colt groans when he can’t get reception on his cell phone. “Looks like we’re going to be here until the plows come through. Might be in the morning.”

You sigh and settle into your seat. Both of your phone batteries are too low to risk running them down by idly scrolling through old saved pictures. It’s going to be a long night. 

To pass the time, you decide to lean over and rummage through the pile of trash and receipts on the floorboard. Like his apartment, he does not keep his truck clean or organized. You spend the next couple hours going through his receipts and judging him for his purchases. It’s mostly “Another Bonsai tree?” and “Just how much do you love this fast food place?” while your best friend does his damndest to defend himself as though he’s in front of an imaginary jury. 

Eventually, the light fades too much to see the small text. Colt has long since turned off the truck. As the sun dips below the horizon, it gets colder in the cab. 

You shiver and Colt notices. “C’mere.”

You slide across the bench seat and underneath his offered arm. He’s warm but the meager contact is too scant to do much. You seem to take turns shivering against one another. 

“It’s a shame we don’t have a tauntaun,” he says suddenly. 

You turn your face into the side of his chest to smother a groan at the reference. “I’d give anything for a hot drink right now.”

Colt makes a sound in agreement and slides down in his seat, struggling to get comfortable. His knee hits the steering wheel and you feel his pained exhale. “Yeah, I would too.”

A particularly vicious wind tears over the truck. It feels like it bypasses the layers of barely insulated metal entirely. The two of you clutch at each other in response. The lack of light isn’t helping it feel any warmer or cozier. Snow has entirely covered the windshield and the windows are fogged up from your breath and body heat. 

“I’ll turn on the truck for a sec to run the heater, but then I guess we oughta try to get some sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You don’t separate when Colt turns the key. The warm air is luxurious against your cold face. You nearly shove your fingers into the vent. He turns the truck off once you’re both sufficiently warmed. Now comes the difficult part, navigating where to put your bodies for sleep. The temperature has ruined any semblance of personal space. 

“Wanna be on top?” 

“If you insist on bottoming, stunt guy.”

“Oh, I always insist.”

Nearly hitting your head on the cab’s roof, you manage to shove yourself off of the bench seat enough for Colt to wedge himself into the short space. You can barely make out his shape. His hands find you and he guides you on top of himself. He hisses sharply and puts a hand over your kneecap when you graze it dangerously close to his crotch. 

“I don't have plans for kids any time soon, but I’d like to keep my options open,” he jokes.

Finally, you are settled on top of him. It’s incredibly uncomfortable for both of you. He’s got his knees drawn up, shins against the door. Your left knee is wedged between his hip and the seat as you lay with your cheek on his shoulder. His arms are up and around you. Yours are tucked alongside his torso with your hands under his shoulders. You feel like a pair of pretzels.

You lay in silence, listening to the winter storm outside. Both of you start to shiver again.

“I know it’s silly but-”

“This sucks so-” you accidentally start at the same time. “Go ahead,” you encourage. 

You hear him swallow. He seems stiff, nervous all of a sudden. “I know it’s silly, but uh… skin to skin contact works. With us both wearing jackets we can’t share body heat as well. So maybe if we… Wow, I promise I’m not trying to come onto you.”

“Okay.” You say gently.  

Sitting up in his lap, his hands fall from your back to the sides of your hips. You unzip your jacket. You’re instantly colder. Underneath you, you feel Colt’s breath hitch and pick up the pace. You put your hands on his amble chest and find his coat zipper and tug it down. His fingers twitch, but they don’t make any move to stop you. You push his shirt up over his pectorals, all the way to his neck. You don’t touch his bare skin with your fingers. His hands find the hem of your shirt and together you draw it up to your collarbone. Both of you are bared in the truck cabin. 

The man leaves you holding your shirt in place while his hands move to your back. He guides you into laying down on top of him. Your friend sucks in a breath and exhales slowly as inch by inch you make contact. Your bare skin colliding is sinfully warm. 

You sigh into his neck, resisting the urge to press a kiss against it even as the stubble of his jaw grazes your face. He pulls his jacket up and over you as much as he can. His hold on you is tight, comforting. The direct contact of his body provides much more heat than between the layers. You’re not as cold as you were before. 

“Heck of a holiday season, huh?” You mumble, already beginning to drift off.

Colt hums in agreement. Before you slip entirely under into the oblivion of sleep, you swear you feel a kiss pressed to your forehead and a low “Sweet dreams.” that rumbles against your chest.

#12 days of goosemas #the fall guy (2024) #the fall guy #the fall guy fanfiction #colt seavers #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers fanfiction #ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling fanfiction #.my work #.my posts

[violetsandfluff]

Sugar Cookies & Santa Hats

a/n: it’s been forever since I wrote for tumblr, so go easy on me! 😂 I will probably be less and less active in coming weeks, but I wanted to let you all know how much I love and appreciate you. happy holidays!!

wc: 1.5k

summary: girl dad!Harry sets out to convince his crestfallen daughter that Santa is real.

TW: …”Santa”

:readmore:

“Who wants to make some cookies for Santa Claus?” Harry asked and his suggestion was greeted by a shrill shriek of excitement from two-, nearly three-year-old Penny, who was standing on her tiptoes to peer inside her stocking, which hung from a coat hook near the front door. 

“Santa Claus!” she repeated, throwing her hands in the air and spinning around herself until she grew dizzy and came to an abrupt stop on the ground. 

The family cat, Agnes, eyed her through the corners of her unamused eyes before turning back to the crackling fire to continue licking her jet-black paws. 

Penny raced Harry to the kitchen, her bubbly giggles filling the room behind her as she ran. “I win!” she panted as she skidded to a stop before the refrigerator, followed by a triumphant, “I beat Daddy!”

Removing the family’s matching aprons from the pantry, you helped Penny into hers and handed her one to bestow upon Harry before donning your own. 

Contrary to her younger sister’s enthusiasm, Ruby stayed on the stairs and somberly watched her family disappear into the kitchen. 

“Come on, Rubes!” you called, hoisting Penny up to the sink to wash her tiny hands. “We need our master baker to show us how it’s done.” 

Ruby let out a soft sigh, refusing to respond. After a moment, Harry poked his head out of the kitchen, making eye contact with his eldest daughter, his brow furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?” he questioned, but his toddler’s joyous shrieks drowned out his voice. He placed Ruby’s folded apron into her hands, but she thrust it back at him. 

“I don’t think I should make cookies for Santa,” she said after a moment, her green-gray eyes welling up with tears. 

“Why not?” asked Harry incredulously. “I thought you loved to bake cookies!”

“I do,” Ruby began, shaking her head, “but I don’t think Santa…needs them.”

“Of course he does,” laughed Harry. “Cookies keep him awake so he can bring us presents, you know!” 

Ruby shook her head once again, her ashamed eyes darting from her father to the Christmas tree and back. “Daddy,” she whispered earnestly, lowering her voice so Penny couldn’t overhear. “Santa Claus isn’t real.” 

Shocked, Harry’s eyes dropped. He heard Penny in the kitchen, cheerfully singing, “Jingle bells! Jingle bells!” paired with the crackling of the fire. He felt his cheeks grow warm as he looked from his daughter’s tearful eyes to his fidgeting hands, and back. 

“Who told you that, Ruby Doo?” he murmured softly as she began to cry. 

“People in my class,” she sniffled, looking up at him with round, glassy eyes. 

“Do you know what, bug?” Harry asked, lowering his eyes to a whisper. “When I was your age, kids at school told me the same. But do you know what happened?”

Ruby shook her head, wiping her nose on the back of her hand and listening intently. 

“On Christmas Eve, I went to bed sad, but right at midnight, I heard jingle bells and hoofbeats on the roof.”

The six-year-old’s eyes lit up. “Reindeer?” she asked, and Harry nodded. 

“When I poked my head out of my bedroom, I saw Santa arranging our presents under the tree.” 

“Really?” Ruby asked, her eyes wide as saucers. “Did he see you?” 

“He didn’t,” Harry replied, feeling the pit in his stomach disappear at his daughter’s budding excitement. “When I woke up in the morning, he had eaten all of the cookies and milk and fed the carrots to his reindeer. He even left me a special note in my stocking.”

“What did it say?” breathed Ruby and Harry gave her an impish smirk. 

“That’s between me and Santa Claus. Now. I’m guessing it’s about time to cut out the cookies.” 

Before he had time to rise to his feet, Ruby sprang off of the stairs and donned her apron as quickly as she could. She sprinted into the bathroom to wash her hands before meeting the remainder of her family in the kitchen. 

“Just in time to help us roll out the dough!” you exclaimed, casting Harry a secretive smile as you pulled a step stool up to the counter for Ruby. 

“We’re making cookies for Santa!” cheered Penny, bouncing on her toes in excitement. 

Ruby held the handles of the rolling pin tightly and you placed yours over hers, guiding their movement over the dough. When the sheet sprawled across the counter, flat and smooth, you retrieved a bag of cookie cutters from the cupboard opposite where you were standing. 

“I want to make Santas!” shouted Penny, reaching for the bag as you set it on the counter before her. 

“I want to make trees and snowflakes and snowmen!” exclaimed Ruby, reaching for the bag. “I think Santa likes snowmen the best.”

“I want to make snowmen, too!” said Penny decisively. 

While the girls distributed the cookie cutters, Harry pulled you aside. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he lowered his lips to your ear and whispered a secret plan into it before returning his attention to his girls. 

“I’m making snowmen, Santas, bells, and reindeers!” Penny cried out joyfully as Ruby helped her press the cookie cutters into the sweet, malleable dough. 

You and Harry helped them make the most out of the sheet of dough, resulting in two pans of warm sugar cookies less than an hour later. While Harry and the girls were infatuated by a rerun of the Polar Express, you placed the cookies on cooling racks and mixed food coloring into small tubs of frosting.

“Are you ready to decorate?” you called into the darkened living room and Penny squealed excitedly. 

“We have a surprise for you, mama!” Harry called back. He, Ruby, and Penny appeared in the doorway, decked out in matching pajamas, aprons, light-up necklaces, and antler headbands.

Giving you a kiss on the cheek, he slipped a necklace on over your head and perched a Santa hat on your head. Whinnying, Penny galloped to your side, climbing onto the step stool and peering into the bowls of colored frosting. 

“Red, white, green, pink, blue…” she named the colors, accidentally poking her finger into the blue. She licked the frosting from her fingertip and would have been successful in going back for more had you not stopped her. 

“Now you’ve got to rewash your hands,” you chided, hoisting her up to clean her hands again. 

Necklace flashing merrily,  Ruby stepped onto the stool and reached for a cookie to begin icing. 

Presently, Penny sidled up next to her and selected a snowflake. The girls contentedly smeared frosting onto their cookies until their arms grew tired and their bedtimes encroached. 

They selected the cookies they saw most fit for Santa Claus and arranged them nicely on a plate with a handful of baby carrots and a glass of water (because milk would spoil if left out overnight.)

You and Harry perched on the edges of their beds--you on Penny’s and Harry on Ruby’s-- and read aloud as many stories as it took for them to drift off, dreaming excitedly of Christmas morning. 

Once they were asleep, you and Harry slipped into your own bed to discuss your midnight plan. 

“Ruby didn’t want to ruin Santa for me,” Harry smiled, just enough to make his dimple apparent. “So I told her about my experience with Santa when I was her age.” 

“When your mom was--”

Harry nodded, propping his head up on his elbow. “We should do the same. Be up by midnight?” 

~~~

Harry roused you five minutes before midnight. 

You awoke to a white, curly synthetic beard against your face. When you opened your eyes, you could distinctly make out the silhouette of your husband, decked out in a complete Santa suit, holding an armful of gifts and stocking stuffers. 

With a charming smile, Harry extended a hand to you, helping you out of bed, but nearly losing a few boxes in the process. 

You helped him steady his load before creeping silently downstairs to arrange the gifts beneath the elaborate tree. 

Once the living room was finished, lit only by the tree, which was just bright enough to see the presents stacked beneath it and the empty plate beside it, you crept up the stairs and knocked lightly on your daughters’ bedroom door. Knowing Penny was a sound sleeper, you didn’t worry about awakening her. 

Ruby, who was drifting in and out of a restless sleep, sat up immediately at the sound. Tiptoeing so as not to wake her younger sister, she let herself out of the bedroom and peered down the stairs. The sight her awestruck eyes beheld was one she would never forget. She clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent a delighted squeal from escaping, lest she blow her cover. Silently, she watched the man in the red suit distribute presents beneath the tree and slip some candy canes into the stockings. 

After a few minutes of baffled silence on her part, the six-year-old began tiptoeing back to her room. She let herself in silently and slipped back into bed with a new kind of warmth and assurance brewing in her core. What a story she would have to tell her children one day.  ~~~

Taglist: @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @groovychaosavenue @madybeth21 @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @daisyharry @madeintheniamh and I think that’s it? I could very well be mistaken as I’m doing this from memory. thanks for everything ❤️🎄

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #dadrry #Girl dad Harry #Christmas au #christmas #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot

[seat-safety-switch]

Those of you who are attractive, well-accustomed human beings have a glorious life ahead of you. Doors will open that you aren’t even aware of, and you will be lifted by an army of unseen helpers to a life of satisfaction. For the rest of us, especially those of us who are best described as “whew,” there’s still race car helmets.

Putting on a full-face racing helmet makes you look super badass. You don’t even need to talk, just focus your steely competition-hardened gaze on whoever is talking, judging them in silence. It’s better than a pair of sunglasses, and with today’s increase in sunglasses cost, cheaper too. Even when you’re required not to wear the helmet, such as being at work, you can put it on the edge of your desk. In this way, your coworkers know that, as soon as the whistle blows, you’ll be popping skids through the parking lot on your way to set the fastest time of the day at some sanctioned racing event.

Even those of us who are misshapen lumps in general benefit from this standard held by society. Tired of people judging your outdated, thrift-store clothes? Nomex race suits come in about seven different colours, and that’s all the choice you get. Each and every one of them makes you look like you could catch fire performing a heroically dangerous motorsport at any second. If you buy a genuine suit instead of some AliExpress cosplay special, you’ll probably even survive the fire, stumbling out of your stricken car aflame for a bad-ass splash photo on some regular person’s magazine article about the race. That could be useful office wear as well, if your coworkers are as bad at operating the toaster oven as mine.

Perhaps the most attractive quality of wearing a full race suit during your daily activities is the increased confidence it will give you. No longer will you have to worry about other human beings seeing the pallor of your skin, or your heinous facial structure. You can swagger directly into a bank, or mall, or toddler playdate and let your counterparty – no, your opponent – watch themselves for flaws in your immaculate, mirrored visor. If that isn’t a good use of several thousand dollars, I don’t know what is.

[leaderpinhead]

Leona - The Kingscholar Men

Leona wanted to squeeze that big head full of even bigger orange hair between his palms like an actual orange. 

And no, he wasn’t talking about his brat of a nephew. He wished he was talking about his nephew. The sheer stupidity he was having to deal with would have made more sense coming from a child. Not a full grown, adult king nearly ten years his senior! 

He skidded around one corner of the hallway, ignoring the servants who gave him dirty looks when his shoes left noticeable marks on the floor. He caught sight of the wild bush Falena called a mane slip around the corner at the far end of the hallway. With a snarl, he took off down the hallway like he was on the Spelldrive field intersecting a win-or-lose disc heading towards his team’s goal. 

He barely registered the orange furball when he sprinted past one of the archways. His ears twitched from Cheka’s high-pitched voice. “Mama? Wha’s Unca Leona and daddy doing?” 

Sade’s loud sigh was both dramatic and amused. “Cheka, dear. This is why mommy makes you go to daycare. So you can learn how to communicate your feelings with others like a normal, healthy person.” 

“I like playing with Timmy and Pupa!” 

Leona clicked his tongue and ignored his sister-in-law. Sitting on a comfy throne all day had created a larger gap in their stamina because Falena was tiring out a lot quicker than Leona. Leona could already hear his brother huffing with exertion while he was barely winded. It only took a few more turns for Leona to fully catch up to him. 

With a tackle that would have made Vargas obnoxiously caw with muscle praise, Leona took Falena to the ground. While Falena whined, Leona wrangled his brother into a chokehold. He snapped his teeth in his brother’s ear. “Give it back now.” 

Despite his chokehold, Falena somehow managed to huff out a chuckle. “I don’t know what you mean!” 

Leona flexed the arm around Falena’s neck, digging the bend of his elbow deeper into his brother’s Adam’s apple. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I get notifications for messages on my tablet.” 

Falena huffed another laugh, tempting Leona to completely cut off his airflow. “Sade told me about Cheka’s new pen pal.” 

Now Leona really did cut off Falena’s windpipe. “Don’t say another word.” 

But Falena did. “The Kingscholars are naturally virile—.” 

His voice cut off with a satisfying croak. Leona kept pressure on Falena’s throat. “Long live the king.” 

Falena quickly tapped his wrist. “Leona, I can’t breathe!” 

“You’re a fool to think that’s not the point.” 

Falena bucked up against him. Leona was quickly reminded that even though he was clearly the lither of the two, Falena still had a good bit of muscle on him. After a quick round of hissing and spitting, it wasn’t too difficult for Falena to reverse their positions. His brother boisterously laughed the moment he could breathe again, and Leona was subjected to a rough noogie between the ears. “There’s no reason to be so shy! It’s about time you showed interest in someone.” 

Leona glowered at the guards who had finally caught up to them, embarrassingly gasping for breath. “You’re already growing senile in your old age.” 

“When do you plan to bring her here to meet me?” 

“Now you’re just being obnoxiously full of yourself.” 

“We have to introduce her to Kafaji and Baraka!” 

Leona’s snarl was punctuated by a loud chime. With one arm still wrapped around Leona’s shoulders, Falena used his free hand to pull Leona’s phone from his pocket. Leona glowered at the screen, kicking himself in the rear for disabling his passcode to make it easier for Ruggie to use his phone. It allowed his brother to easily swipe the phone unlocked and gain access to his messages. 

The picture Falena had sent to the prefect—one of Leona grinning up at the camera as a toddler—took up most of the space on the screen. The only text bubble on the screen was her new response below it: Cute! You and Cheka have the same nose! 

Falena chuckled and showed Leona the screen like he had something to be proud about. “She likes kids. That’s a good sign!” 

Leona snorted and ignored his brother rambling on in his ear. He was enabling the passcode on all of his devices again even if it meant having to hear Ruggie whine when he couldn’t use it for coupons or something. Anything was better than having to listen to Falena plan out some delusional “five-year engagement plan” like an old spinster. 

And everyone wondered why he occasionally dreamed of pushing his brother off a cliff into a herd of stampeding wildebeests. 

#twisted wonderland #twstober #leona kingscholar #falena kingscholar #they're just two brothers who have no idea how to talk to one another #and Falena's wife knows it #day 4 chase

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

WHOLESOME SONIC & TAILS WEDNESDAY BABYYY!!!

Short fic I whipped up today-- I know it's probably been done before, but I wanted a "Sonic's learning how to care for a toddler + hearing each other talk for the first time + Sonic naming him" all in one and haven't found all that in one fic yet so here we are!!

Looking after a toddler was harder than it sounded.

Especially when said toddler needed to be watched by the fastest thing alive, who was used to racing through everything with absolutely nothing holding him back.

Sonic studied the little two-tailed fox kit at his feet, trying to figure him out. Technically, no one had assigned him to watch this little one, but he'd found the poor thing getting bullied by some jerks. He'd taken care of the bullies, and the next thing he'd known, the little fox was flying after him. Yes, flying, using his twin tails as a helicopter of sorts.

That was all it took for Sonic to feel like the little kit was now his responsibility.

They hadn't actually spoken. Sonic wasn't sure if the fox kit could even talk yet, and he didn't see the use in trying to communicate with him vocally.

It was harder to keep on running when he now had to make sure the kit was safe. He hadn't realized how many needs one had until he needed to think of two mouths to feed, two places to sleep, etc.

It wasn't necessarily hard. It just took some getting used to. Nothing Sonic the Hedgehog couldn't handle!

He looked up and scanned their surroundings. They'd stopped for a break in a small, sparse forest. The fox kit was going back and forth from looking around nervously to gazing up at Sonic with owlish eyes. He stood not even a foot away from the hedgehog, clearly trusting him to protect him from any more danger.

Sonic waved a little to get the kit's attention, then pointed onward to the path they'd been following. The little one nodded vigorously, then spun his tails and hovered into the air. Sonic gave a single, firm nod, then took off down the trail.

As they sped along the way (the kit was able to keep up fairly easily, it was cool how flight seemed to automatically enhance speed), Sonic snuck a tiny glance back at his tiny friend. The fluffy little fox continued flying, unaware of Sonic's curious gaze.

Sonic still didn't know his name. Sure, he'd only been taking care of him for a week or so, but he learned the names of most folks he met the same day he met them. Granted, most folks he met weren't neglected orphan (?) toddlers.

Sonic had all but decided to adopt him at this point, despite not having known him for long. So would that leave the naming process up to him?

He smiled a little to himself as he continued running. Sounded good.

The thing was, though, he hadn't actually ever named someone before. Heck, he wasn't even yet twelve years old himself.

What kind of name would fit the little fox? He was small, still had all his baby-fluff, was a brownish-gold color, had big, bright, sky-blue eyes, with white fur across his stomach and muzzle (and obviously the tips of his twin tails).

An idea of a name, or nickname, was just on the tip of his tongue when suddenly the sound of robots, a lot of them, creaked up ahead over the hill. It was followed by maniacal laughter, and Sonic skidded to a halt and rolled his eyes with a scoff. He'd know that laugh anywhere by now.

Excited by the idea of a fight, Sonic was just revving up to spindash over the hill into the battle, but a squeak of fear suddenly made his heart lurch, and he almost fell over himself trying to stop.

The fox kit.

He was a literal toddler. He seemed about three years old, nowhere near old enough to fight or defend himself. Sonic couldn't just expect him to follow him into the battle and manage to avoid all the lasers and claws and spikes. He would get hurt too easily.

But . . . Sonic never ran from a fight.

He crossed his arms and frowned in frustration at the grassy ground, tapping his foot impatiently as he tried to figure out what to do. He wanted to fight, he had to fight. He didn't know what Eggman was up to. For all he knew, the crazed scientist was planning something big and dangerous, and might carry it to fruition if Sonic didn't stop him now.

But he also had to keep the fox kit safe.

An idea hit him, and before he'd given himself the chance to think it through, he spun around, scooped up the little fox into his arms, and took off back into the forest-- just not quite at his normal speed so the sonic boom wouldn't give him away to Eggman.

As soon as Sonic had found a safe-looking hiding place-- a hollowed-out nook beneath some tree roots-- he knelt down and gently tucked the fox kit into the little space. Just for extra security, he scooped up some big chunks of moss and tucked it around his friend's body. He held up his hands in a "stay" gesture, but a part of him worried that the little one wouldn't understand fully what was going on.

"Stay here," he said aloud, trying to look both gentle and stern, and the kit's eyes grew wide. "I'm just going to fight off the scary robots. I'll come back for you."

He waited till he got a nod from the fox kit, whose mouth was agape and eyes were still huge. The moment he'd gotten the acknowledgement, he spun around and blasted back towards where he'd seen Eggman and his robots.

The fight was quick and easy, routine at this point for him. Eggman yelled insults at him, he smashed through the bots, waited for the mad scientist to fly away in his orb-like flying thing (all the while shouting more threats at him) but for once Sonic skipped the stupid taunts and banter from his own end. He needed to get back to the fox kit.

When he skidded to a halt back at the hollow, his shoulders slumped in relief to see that his tiny friend had obeyed and was still huddled in the space. He was also still gaping at him in amazement.

Sonic grinned and flashed him a thumbs-up, then his own jaw went slack when the kit exclaimed happily, "You talk!" in the sweetest little toddler voice he'd ever heard.

"You talk?!" he exclaimed back, holding out his arms in excitement. "Buddy! Why didn't you say something before?!"

"You were quiet," the kit pointed out, his voice and words choppy and hesitant, making it evident that while he could talk, it was just barely. "I ph'ot I should be quiet too."

"Buddy," Sonic chuckled. "I just thought ya couldn't talk yet. That's all."

"'Course I can talk!" the fox chirped, sounding both indignant and proud.

Sonic snickered. "'Course you can talk," he echoed back teasingly. "Well then, what's your name, kid?"

The kit made a face. "Promise not to tell anyone?" He glanced around a few times before he added, still looking sour, "It's Miles."

Sonic tilted his head. "Miles? You don't look like a Miles to me."

The fox kit's annoyance at the sound of his own name was almost startling, he clearly didn't like it at all. The idea of not liking one's own name wasn't rare, but it seemed odd for a fox as young as this one to feel such a way.

But that meant Sonic could still name him. He grinned and winked at his new little pal, remembering the name he'd been thinking of earlier. "Okay. I'll call you Tails."

Barely a second after hearing his new name, the fox kit-- Tails-- lit up like it was the most exciting thing he'd experienced. Maybe it was.

"Yes! Yes, yes!" he exclaimed happily, jumping out of the hollow to fly around in a circle. "Tails! I'm Tails!"

And Sonic merely smiled. It seemed like he had a new baby brother.

(thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! This will be posted on Wattpad soon - my user is Chaton15 there - and this has made me want to write a ton more so I'll just post it as the first of a bunch of Sonic one-shots. 🤩)

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #happy wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #they're brothers your honor #tails and sonic #sonic and tails one shot #wholesome sonic and tails Wednesday fic #fic #sonic and tails fic #idk if this has already been done exactly #either way i had a ton of fun with this #this is actually my first sonic fanfic #ive seen similar content and had to do something of my own #they're so precious #brothers forever #sonic and tails brothers #unbreakable bond

[thehusbandoden]

The Twins -Dabi x Reader

Fluff, maybe a teensy bit of angst? | 681 words | First person | unedited per usual, my apologies | there's gonna be a part two cause it'd be too long if not.. idk. I'll post part 2 asap!!

(Edit): To sum it up I just added more to the story. Oh my freaking goodness. I've had a writing block for what seems like forever now. I went to try and write more and came to a blank. I added a teensy bit to a "part 2" and yk what- that'll just have to sum up the thingy thing (I cannot think for the life of me rn). I'm sorry, I'll hopefully be motivated soon.

You and Dabi have a very close, and very steady relationship. That, and being in your prime has you in a baby fever. Due to you and Dabi both being villains, you've never tried, nor even talked about it. Well~ on a mission you find a pair of abandoned twins.. and what were you supposed to do?? Leave them?! Nah, you evade pursuing heroes and bring the little angels to the League.

(V/n)- villain name

I huffed as I sprinted towards an abandoned building. Swerving my head around, I dashed inside when I didn't see the heroes that were previously chasing me.

Crouching behind a collapsed structure, I struggled to catch my breath, wondering what to do next. As my breathing evened out I pulled out the cellphone Shigaraki had given me.

About to dial Kurogiri, I stopped as I heard distant cries. Pausing, I identified the cries of a distressed child. Pouting, I ran toward the sound instinctually.

I've been dreaming of kids recently, and being in my prime, plus being in a long, and very close relationship has gotten my mama instincts all riled up. Though, we've never tried due to the both of us being well known villains.

Skidding to a halt, my heart dropped as I met eyes with two small children, both looking around the age of two. They were curled inside a blanket, sitting on a piece of cardboard.

From the little I could see, there was one boy, and one girl. The boy was a little bigger, and had blonde hair, which fell to below his ears, and the girl had jet-black hair to below her shoulders, and pink eyes.

Immediately falling in love, I took a step towards the pair, which brought the boy's attention to me, revealing a matching pair of pink eyes.

"Hi.. where are your parents bubbas?" I ask, hesitantly walking towards them. As the girl watched me, her cries worsened, while the boy's subsided.

"Hey, hey! It's okay!" I soothe, swooping the girl into my arms. At first she freaked out, but after I rocked her back and forth and patted her back she calmed down.

Shifting her into my left arm, I picked up her brother as well. Judging by their sizes and identical appearance, I would guess that they were twins. As the boy settled in my arms, my heart melted as he wrapped his tiny arms around my neck.

Cooing, I stared at the toddlers in awe, already feeling very protective over the two. Just as I started to leave, I mentally cursed as I heard the heroes calling to one another, exclaiming that they heard a child cry where I was assumed to be near.

Sprinting, I made my way back to the bar, twins protectively secured in my arms. "THERE! GET HER!" A hero yelled, making his way toward me. Panicking, I tried to find a place to quickly call Kurogiri. After a few minutes of evading the heroes, I dashed into an empty alleyway, and hid behind a large dumpster.

Setting the boy on my knee, I bounced him up and down to keep him happy as I pulled out the cellphone, quickly dialing Kurogiri.

"(V/n)." Kurogiri greeted, waiting for me to continue. "I- I need a portal.. quickly." After giving him a rough location, he quickly sent a portal my way, telling me exactly where it was and how long he'd keep it up.

Thanking him, I quickly ended the call before picking the boy back up, sneaking out of the alleyway quickly. I jogged as I kept an eye out for the heroes, desperately clinging to walls as I searched for the portal.

After a while of searching, I found it with only a minute or so to spare. Sprinting toward it, my heart sped up as I heard the heroes pursuing me. Jumping into the portal, I sighed as Kurogiri closed it just in time.

"Really (v/n)?" He asked, eyes locked onto the now sobbing twins. "I couldn't just leave them!" I spit, moving toward my shared room while desperately trying to soothe the twins.

As I shut the door, I collapsed onto the bed, gently, petting the toddlers heads while whispering sweet things to them. It wasn't long until they both fell asleep, pitifully clinging onto me as they slept, like they were begging me to stay.

Smiling, I kissed both of their heads before falling asleep as well, imagining how my sweet Dabi would react to the new addition to our tiny family.

I awoke to a familiarly warm hand placed on my exposed shoulder. Blinking my eyes open, I grinned as I saw Dabi, his turquoise eyes focused on the sleeping toddlers that were comfortably cozied up in what he deemed, "his spot".

"(Y/n).. what are these things, and what are they doing here?" Dabi asked, moving his hand down to my thigh, grasping it affectionately.

"Baby.. I found these two little angels on my mission. They were abandoned, lonely, terrified, and most likely starving. I took them back here.. and I really wanna keep em." I beg, pleading eyes bleeding into Dabi's unamused ones.

"(Y/n). We're villains."

"And they don't have a home! Besides, we're already attached so~."

"What are their names?" Dabi sighed, sitting down next to me. "I don't know.. I was gonna have you help me with that."

"Okay.. well what are we supposed to do with em?"

"Umm they're gonna wake up hungry.. so why don't you get some food? Nothing too hard to chew though. We don't want our children to choke." At that, Dabi just gave me a soft smile before going to find some substantial food.

Masterlist | Requesting Rules (requests open and appreciated)

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #mha dabi #dabi #mha x reader #dabi x reader #fluff #mha fluff #dabi fluff #dabi x reader fluff #mha x reader fluff #baby fever

[echantedtoon]

In The Moon's Shadow (Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch16 Epilogue

Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Koyoharu Gotouge for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.

EDIT: This lady chapter might be really short so apologies for that.)

The earth was a beautiful thing if you needed it to be, or if you wanted to make it become that way. And in a way, it was both to you in the end. The sweet smells of flowers and grass encouraging your lungs. Combined with the warmth of the sunlight warming your muscles and urging them on. Both made you feel as light as a feather on your mere feet and the ground felt soft under you. You were smiling. Arms out splayed against the wind blowing around your hair like crazy and cooling your body against the warm sunlight beaming down on you. The warm breeze soothing over the trees swaying branches and rustling leaves on the warm summer's day.

A soft coo gurgled out. Wide purple eyes blinked in awe at the world above them. The beautiful leaves rustling catching attention of the big sparkling dark eyes. A gift of mahogany hair poking out from a bundle of sheets laid upon a soft patch of grass and flowers. Little hands reached out towards the air as a few leaves fell from the branches above them. 

"Hey." A smiling face and soft turquoise eyes peered down at the baby. "Did you wake up from your nap?"

As soon as the baby saw their brother they squealed out. Kicking little legs and waving their arms until they were picked up and held by the teenager who smiled at them softly.

"Muichiro, you're holding them wrong!", another teenager identical to the first frowned. 

"I am not! I'm holding them just fine!" Muichiro frowned back and turned slightly with the baby in his arms. "And keep your voice down! We're supposed to helping Father take care of our siblings today so Mother can have a break!"

"Fine. Then let me hold them." Yuichiro held out his hands expecting his twin to hand over their baby sibling. "It's my turn to hold them anyways."

Muichiro frowned and turned further away. "No! You got to hold them all day and rocked them to sleep! It's my turn!"

"I'm the oldest! Which makes me more responsible than you! Hand them over!"

"We're the same age which makes me as equally responsible!"

The twins continued bickering on much to the amusement of the baby in Muichiro's arms that giggled at their older brothers. You smiled amused at the sight of three of your children. Now..where was the forth?

"I DON'T WANNA BATH!!"

Your head turned as a black haired blue approached. Two pairs of footsteps quickly approaching before the door slammed open and a small figure ran out heading right towards you. Behind the blur was an annoyed looking man.

"You will come here at once!"

"NO!!"

You could only smiled amused as your four year old toddler came running across the yard and towards you with an annoyed demon hot on his tail. The black haired boy bolting out of the house arms outstretched before he skidded to a stop right next to you and dove behind your legs. Amused you looked behind you as the little boy scowled from behind your legs at his father who stopped in front of you looking annoyed at the game of chase. 

"You come out from behind your mother this instant," he demanded firmly pointing at the pouting toddler.

"NO!!"

"Respect your father!"

"NO!!"

He turned to grab the child only for them to duck the other way and attempt to run around you and get away. Unfortunately the demon was faster and in the blink of an eye snatched the toddler up with one hand. The boy squealed out kicking and pushing at the large hands holding him.

"No, Daddy! No!" He furiously pushed against the older man cheeks puffed out in a pout. "I don't wanna bath!!"

The demon only groaned face completely deadpanned and holding up his squirming son. A tired sigh leaving his mouth but snapped quickly to annoyance at your giggling. You couldn't help it. Seeing your husband parent his sons was quite the experience.

"It seems you're getting the hang of parenting toddlers."

"You are lucky I don't have you try to bath him yourself."

"Today's my day off." You stared matter of factly crossing your arms. "But it's fun watching you handle two teenagers, a toddler, and baby all at once. I'd even say you're doing a great job."

He sighed again adjusting his hold on the pouting child. "It's a learning process throughout but it is hard to manage sometimes."

"You're the one who wanted more children, Michikatsu," you pointed out to him. "Remember? After you married me and begged for a bigger family."

He huffed. "Of course you would remind me. Although.." He smiled. "I do not regret that choice. My brother sent me a message the other day. He wants me to bring my entire family to visit his "

"I think it would be better if he came to visit us instead. I don't feel like going back there."

"I understand. I wouldn't want anymore suiters near you.  After all.."

You blinked as he leaned over. A kiss placed gently to your forehead making your four year old stick out his tongue. "Ew! Cooties!"

"You are mine. These children are mine. My family is my own and I will not have lose their love again."

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu gakuen #Kny #yandere kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny kokushibo #kokushibo #kokushibou #yandere kokushibo #yandere michikatsu x reader #yandere michikatsu tsugikuni #demon slayer michikatsu #michikatsu x reader #kny michikatsu #michikatsu tsugikuni #yandere kokushibo x reader #in the moon's shadow