would you kill for them? | c.s
⤑ contains: hypothetical violence, cursing, protective/possesive chris, and more..
⤑ in which .. your husband casually threatens violence on national media in defense of your children
This isn't the first time chris has gone viral before, but it’s the first time it’s made your chest burn like this.
You’re in the laundry room folding tiny sweatpants when your phone buzzes with a dozen messages at once. The group chat is blowing up. Tilly’s kindergarten mom friends, your sister, even Matt sent you a TikTok link with just:
You sigh and tap it open, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he caused this time.
It’s a clip from some podcast. The boys are seated across from a host, laughing, joking, mugs of water on the table. Chris looks good—white tee, that silver bracelet you bought him last Father’s Day, curls tucked under a backwards cap. You’d recognize the curve of his jaw with your eyes closed.
Then the host leans in and grins: “Would you kill for your kids?”
It’s meant to be playful. Light and funny. But Chris—your sweet, goofy, patient husband who reads Llama Llama Red Pajama and The Very Hungry Caterpillar in a different voice every night—does not laugh. Instead, his jaw tightens and smile fades.
“I would skin a man alive and leave him to bleed dry if he ever laid a hand on my fucking children.”
The room goes dead silent. Nick coughs. Matt chokes on a sip of water. The host blinks like he’s not sure if he should be afraid or impressed. Chris just shrugs.
“You asked,” he adds, voice low. “Don’t mess with my family. That’s it.”
Your heart doesn’t just skip—it climbs out of your body. You drop the baby sock in your hand. Just stand there frozen in the middle of the laundry, the tumble dryer humming beside you while the weight of his words crack you open.
Because he meant it. Every word.
That’s not performative. That’s not for show. That’s Chris—the man who lets your daughter paint his nails with glitter polish and holds your newborn against his bare chest just to regulate her temperature better. The same Chris who once stepped between you and a speeding car with zero hesitation. The man who looked at you in a hospital bed and whispered, “You’re incredible. You’re everything. I’ve got you—always.”
You watch the clip again.. and again. Then text him.
So when you say “skin a man alive”… like how fast are we talking? Because I got full-body chills and I think I’m in love with you all over again?
He doesn’t reply right away. But when he gets home—arms full of groceries, Junie strapped to his chest in the baby carrier—he gives you that look.
The you saw it, didn’t you look. You nod silently, eyes already glassy.
Chris sets everything down. Unbuckles Junie gently and hands her to you with soft kisses to her curls. Then he straightens, closes the gap between you, and says, just under his breath: “I meant it.”
You don’t need to ask what. You just nod, holding your daughter tighter.
“I know,” you whisper. “God, I know.”
His arms wrap around you both, warm and steady, like a wall. Like a shield.. like a promise carved into his bones.
“No one touches what’s mine,” he murmurs at your temple. “Not you. Not Tilly. Not Junie. Not any baby we have next. I’ll ruin someone for even trying.”
You smile, teary and overwhelmed and very, very much in love. “You realize that clip’s gonna haunt you forever, right?”
He just smirks. “Good. Let it.”
Later that night, after the girls are asleep and the monitor is quiet, you climb onto his lap with your fingers tangled in his curls.
“You still thinking about it?” he murmurs against your throat.
You nod. “Still kind of want you to skin someone. Just for me.”
He laughs, low and warm. “I’ll start with your enemies list. Alphabetical?”
And when he kisses you, slow, deep, reverent—you don’t doubt for a second that he’d burn the whole world down to keep you safe.
immaqulate's notes ✎ᝰ.ᐟ.. ty anon for requesting!! i always love writing for domestic dad! chris or matt :) my requests for this trope or anything else are always open!
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