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yuujispinkhair · 1 day

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Sukuna showing you his love and appreciation on Mother's Day

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). fluff + smut. wc 2k

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), creampie, praise, pregnancy. Reader and Sukuna already have a daughter together, and reader is pregnant with Sukuna's second baby. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear + @/qqmaiztwsse. This story can be read as part 2 of this baby daddy Sukuna story, but you don't have to read the first part.

You wake up to the mattress shifting under Sukuna's weight, as he is carefully untangling himself from you, trying not to wake you up. You blink sleepily and watch your husband get up, unable to tear your gaze away from Sukuna's broad, tattooed back and the way his buff muscles move when he stretches.

Of course, he catches you checking him out and smirks that typical charming smirk at you as you are about to sit up. But Sukuna is quicker. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and pushes you gently back down on the pillow,

"Uh uh, no getting up yet. I still need time to prepare some things. Go back to sleep, darling. Happy Mother's Day."

You smile and snuggle back into your blanket, watching Sukuna getting dressed before he leaves the bedroom with one last look over his broad shoulder and an amused wink.

When you wake up the second time that morning, the lovely scent of coffee and freshly baked muffins drifts to your nose. And the loud chatter of your little daughter and Sukuna. You grin to yourself as you hear them in front of the bedroom door, arguing over who gets to wake you up.

"She is my mommy and not yours!"

"But she is my wife!"

"Oh, Daddy, don't be stupid! It's called Mother's Day, not Wife's Day!"

You hear Sukuna sigh dramatically, and you can practically see his amused grin and the way he rolls his beautiful maroon eyes in mock exasperation.

"Ok, ok, I will let you wake her up, princess. Do you have your present?"

The answer seems to be yes because a second later, the door gets pushed open, and your daughter runs over to the bed and jumps onto it, pushing the gift she made for you in kindergarten in your face: A painting with a heart and flowers and four figures, you, her, and Sukuna, and in your tummy little baby number two.

You thank her profusely, hugging her and letting her explain the painting to you when Sukuna joins you on the bed with a beautiful rose bouquet in his arms and a little gift bag from your favorite skincare brand.

You smile at your little princess and your husband, thanking them for the gifts and marveling at how similar they look. She has your eyes, but you can see her father's features in her pretty face, and when her lips lift in a grin, it is a 100% match to the grin that you love so much on Sukuna's face.

You lift your head to look at Sukuna, realizing that he is watching you and your daughter too. There is an unguarded, soft expression on his beautiful, tattooed face. An expression that makes your heart fill with tenderness for this tough man who is so good to you and your daughter.

A strong arm wraps around your waist at that moment, and Sukuna pulls you closer to him. And you cup his cheek and smile at him as he closes the small distance between you to kiss you, but not before he whispers, "Thank you."

The breakfast table is overflowing with things. The coffee and homemade muffins you already smelled, but also various sweet and savory treats from the bakery down the street. And flowers that your daughter picked this morning with her daddy in the park.

You smile as you imagine big, tall Sukuna with his intimidating tattoos and arrogant smirk, picking pretty flowers with his little daughter and the looks the two of them must have received from the grandmas taking their morning walk in the park.

You get up to help with the dishes after you're finished eating, but Sukuna sends a stern look your way, shaking his head,

"What do you think you are doing? Sit back down."

He points at his daughter,

"You stay here and make sure your mommy doesn't lift a single finger."

You laugh and lean back in your chair, taking another sip from the orange juice as you watch Sukuna do the dishes and clean the kitchen.

The three of you spend the rest of the day together, going on a long walk in the park. Your little one is running ahead while you and Sukuna stroll leisurely side by side, with his arm around your waist or you leaning against his side and holding onto his biceps.

You make a stop at an ice cream parlor, eat ice cream, and drink coffee afterward while your daughter plays on the playground in front of the little shop.

Before you know it, Sukuna has pulled you onto his lap. He holds you with one arm while he sips his coffee with the other and grins that boyish grin at you that always makes your pulse flutter, no matter how often you see it.

Sukuna's large hand is sprawled over your belly, where the swell of your baby bump is already visible. He caresses it absentmindedly, making you smile because you know how proud he is that you are pregnant with his second baby.

And right at that moment, a soft kiss lands on your shoulder, and Sukuna murmurs in a sexy low voice, only for you to hear,

"You are so beautiful, mommy."

When it's time to go home, your daughter, of course, complains loudly that she doesn't want to leave yet, but Sukuna just jogs over to her with a smirk, plucks her off the jungle gym with ease, and casually throws her over one shoulder.

You laugh when you see her kick her little legs and scream, only to realize a minute later that it's very comfortable to get carried by her daddy, and she stops struggling and instead slumps lazily onto her father's broad shoulder.

Sukuna's low laugh joins yours,

"You are acting like a sack of rice. Be careful I don't mix things up and accidentally make dinner out of you."

"Oh yeah? And you look like a strawberry with your pink hair. Be careful I don't make dessert out of you, Daddy!"

"Well, I would definitely make a great dessert! But I have to inform you that I am actually a full-course meal, young lady."

You burst out laughing again, affectionately ruffling your daughters and Sukuna's hair, thinking how similar they are not just in looks but also in their personalities.

Your daughter still refuses to walk on her own, but luckily, Sukuna is strong and doesn't even break a sweat while carrying her all the way home to your apartment. And you grin to yourself, knowing how loving Sukuna is when it comes to his little family. A strong and protective man who would do anything for you and your babies. Your little daughter has calmed down again, too, and snuggles against Sukuna, hugging his neck and almost falling asleep right there on her father's shoulder.

A few hours later, your apartment is quiet, with your daughter fast asleep in her room, and the lights dimmed.

And Sukuna and you have some time only for each other.

He pulls you into his strong arms, pressing his tall, firm body against yours, and kisses you thoroughly. Tender and deep kisses that make your knees weak.

And when your lips part, there is this tender expression on Sukuna's face that is only reserved for you.

"Thank you for all the love you give our little brat. And all the love you give me. Thank you for making this apartment a home. I never thought I would have a real home or a real family. But you gave me all that and I am so grateful for you. I love you, darling."

Sukuna swoops you up in his strong arms and carries you to your bedroom while you smile at him with tears in your eyes, telling him that you love him too, while you caress the short hair of his undercut, your heart feeling so full.

You lock the bedroom door and immediately begin to undress each other on your way over to the large bed. You moan at the feel of Sukuna's buff muscles under your hands, and he groans when he places you on the bed and lets his hungry gaze travel slowly over your naked body.

There were times when you felt insecure and ashamed at the thought of being so exposed to someone's gaze. But not anymore. With Sukuna, you feel desired, loved, and your body reacts to his loving gaze, your nipples hardening and your pussy wet and yearning for Sukuna's cock.

He leans over you, so tall and big but so loving. Sukuna always spoils you in bed, but especially tonight, on Mother's Day, the day that exists to show you his appreciation.

You are drowning in bliss as Sukuna's lips and tongue wander down your body slowly, loving you, worshipping the body of the woman he loves, the body of the mother of his children. He makes you feel sexy like no other man before him did, even with the changes your body went through after the first pregnancy and your current pregnancy.

You mewl softly when Sukuna plays with your sensitive breasts, which are already filling out more again due to the pregnancy hormones, cupping them with his large hands and sucking gently on your stiff nipples. His mouth wanders to your swollen belly, trailing kisses over the bump where his baby number two is growing.

Your hips buck needily when Sukuna pushes your legs apart and trails tender kisses over your inner thighs before he reaches his goal and slowly makes out with your swollen clit. Your heart is racing, your mind hazy as you give yourself to your husband completely, letting him pamper you and show you how grateful he is for you.

Your first orgasm that night is on Sukuna's tongue. Hot pleasure explodes inside you while your fingers twist in his pink hair and tug on it as you throw your head back and moan his name softly, shuddering on his velvety mouth as he licks and kisses you through your high.

The second one is on Sukuna's cock when he takes you with slow but deep thrusts while you lie on your side so it's comfortable for you with your baby bump. And Sukuna is behind you, his strong muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you while he rolls his hips against you, fucking his long and thick cock deep into you.

Sukuna's face is buried in your neck, and you get blessed with hearing his sexy, low moans. One of his large hands is on your pregnant belly, while the other is between your legs, caressing tender circles around your clit. His lips brush over your neck, kissing you, moaning softly in utter bliss and devotion, and whispering to you how beautiful you are, how sexy, murmuring his praise and love to you in that sexy, hoarse voice that drives you crazy.

Sukuna's hand clamps over your mouth just in time for your orgasm, and you squeal into his large hand as you cum on his cock, twitching and clenching on him, milking his hot, sticky seed out of him, that he spills into you with a low, guttural moan.

You stay in that position afterward, cuddling while lying on your side, Sukuna hugging you tightly from behind, his thick cock still deep inside you.

You lazily trace the tattoos on Sukuna's wrists with one hand while your other hand reaches behind to tangle in Sukuna's soft pink hair as you turn your head to let him kiss you tenderly.

"You are so fucking beautiful. I might just make you a mommy again."

"I imagine that to be a bit hard when I am already very pregnant with your baby, Kuna."

And he laughs and kisses your shoulder, his smile evident in his voice,

"Doesn't mean I can't try."

HE IS SO 💗💗 Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed your time with Daddy Sukuna ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #tw pregnancy

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starliteonearth · 2 days

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I feel like the sentiment that shipping Lucy with Cooper/The Ghoul replaces Barb as his canonical love interest ignores the fact that Cooper and Barb already had their time in the sun. They had a great, long relationship. They had a daughter and a family together. It was a good marriage. And then it ENDED. Not because of the bombs dropping but because they got DIVORCED. Cooper divorced her after finding out the truth (which is something a lot of viewers seemed to have missed apparently). There maybe plenty of things unresolved between them but the relationship was over, a long, long time before Lucy comes along.

#if anything i think she would be replacing janey #if you put them in the father-daughter dynamic #kinda like how ellie replaced sarah in joel's mind #except in this case janey may still be alive and cooper is actively searching for her #but let me not stir the pot #lemme not lol #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #lucy x cooper #lucy x the ghoul #cooper x barb #lucy maclean #the ghoul #cooper howard #barb howard #fallout #fallout show #fallout tv series

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lemongrace · 2 days

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Seralune for @bellamina

#world of warcraft #warcraft #my art #night elf #artists on tumblr #digital art #friend's oc #seralune #and ed's lost daughter no less!! what a good father he is #she deserves better look at her. she's baby

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empiresofstorm · 3 days

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(what if?) all i need is you

azriel x fem!reader

summary Your first fae cycle is awful. Azriel just wants to help.

word count 3.9K

warnings Hurt/comfort, mild angst (mostly fluff), brief mentions of parents passing away and canon-typical violence, loverboy Az <3

notes I am aware that there are already a million period fics but I’m on my period so here is my (very self-indulgent) contribution <3

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You hadn't expected your first cycle as High Fae to feel so different.

The fatigue, the cramping in your stomach, and the migraines had all been mild at first - isolated enough that you hadn't expected your biannual cycle to be the cause, least of all so soon after being turned fae.

Azriel had noted the signs too. His presence, though not constant, had been a comforting sort of consistent, ever since you'd met in the human lands.

It had been an unnervingly quiet afternoon at Beddor Apothecary. Though, you supposed it was a relief that no villagers had knocked on the doors today with unnerving cuts and bruises.

The shop had been left to you in their will after the Beddors had passed. Not your family by blood, but in a way that perhaps mattered more. Their death had killed a part of your soul, one more difficult to patch than. A well-loved family, healing patients in the village for generations. Killed in a seemingly random fire. It hadn't made sense.

Their daughter, Clare, had been younger than you, far too young to leave so soon. Even as a child, she’d always hung around the shop while you worked, offering tools and cheeky smiles, eyes twinkling with mischief that had remained even as she grew into adulthood.

You’d heard that the fire took mere minutes to consume the house. But you knew that no human flame burned so rapidly.

Lost in thought, you’d jumped at the knock on the door. Patients rarely knocked, knowing the door to be unlocked. Instantly on alert, you’d grabbed the pointed steel spatula near your fingertips, before walking to the door and yanking it open.

Azriel had heard your hammering heart as you walked the short distance to your door, immediately feeling guilty as you eyed him warily. He stood preternaturally still as you quickly scanned over his frame, the distrust in your eyes slowly dissipating as you registered his wings, the siphons on his hands, before you'd craned your neck up to meet his gaze.

The tension had left your shoulders, then.

Feyre had written a few weeks ago, her most recent letter explaining the chronic pain suffered by her friend Azriel, who she’d previously described as “classically handsome” and something about “wingspan” that had flown over your head. Feyre had asked if you’d make a healing salve for him, like you made for her father. You’d readily agreed, looking forward to meeting a new patient, keeping busy to keep your wind from wandering to less-than pleasant thoughts.

This must be him, you’d thought.

In front of you, the large male smiled softly, his voice gentle as he said, “Hello. I’m Azriel, Feyre’s friend.”

He'd left later that evening, holding a generously filled tin that you'd refused payment for. And every two weeks, he returned for a new tin of salve.

Every two weeks, Azriel sat on a wooden stool beside your bench, transfixed as he watched your brilliant mind make the smallest modifications to the formula after asking for feedback.

“May I try something, Azriel?” you'd asked gently, a few visits in. Your hand had hovered above his own as you looked up at him, eyes patient, soft. “The application of the salve makes a difference too. I think that you should be more gentle with yourself,” you’d said, words deliberate.

Their double meaning hadn’t been lost on Azriel. For a moment, he’d considered, before nodding. Azriel’s eyes had snapped shut as he slowly swallowed, throat bobbing. But then, his gaze met yours again, face more open, trusting, as he flipped his hand and lightly pressed his palm on the table. “Please, go ahead.”

He’d watched as you gently pressed the cream into his scars, movements professional but tender, somehow. You’d taken your time, working systematically over the expanse of his hands, explaining your motions as you went, explaining the research with an endearing passion that had Azriel’s lips curving into a small smile, mind nearly forgetting that someone was touching his hands.

Once you'd finished, you’d scanned his face, almost nervous, only to find some emotion swimming in his eyes you hadn't been able to name.

And you’d let the words pour from your heart before you could second-guess them.

“You are brave, Azriel. And there is no shame in feeling pain, in being gentle with yourself.”

He’d stayed longer than usual that night, pressing soft lips to your forehead softly at the threshold. He’d promised to be back in two weeks.

The next time you saw him had been on the battlefield, and everything had changed.

“Here, let me.” A warm palm covered your left hand, wrapping around the knife that you gripped loosely, foggy mind not understanding why the fillet wasn't splitting into pieces.

You nodded distractedly, still glaring at the offending piece of steak on your plate. Your right hand reluctantly slipped out from under Azriel’s, the soothing heat of his palm feeling.With precise, even strokes, Azriel quickly had your meal in bite-sized pieces. You snorted quietly, watching him work. The throbbing at your temple wasn’t so awful that you didn’t register the irony of the Spymaster of the Night Court using his knife skills, honed through centuries of training and battle, to slice meat for his temporarily incapacitated friend.

Lips quirking up, he pushed the plate back toward you, eyes shining with poorly disguised concern.

Azriel knew you were so used to looking out for others that you sometimes struggled to do the same for yourself. Independent, perhaps to a fault.

But the knowledge didn't quell the urge to feed you himself, to look after you the way you deserved. Even if Azriel wasn't sure he deserved the honour of doing so.

“Thanks, Az,”you mumbled, slowly lifting your fork to your mouth.

“Of course,” he replied, voice soft in the way it always seemed to be when he spoke to you.

You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously as you chewed slowly.

Eyes already on you, Azriel scanned your features worriedly.

“I'm okay, Az. I promise. Just not hungry.” You finally swallowed, fork quietly clattering back onto the plate.

“A few more bites, and then you can stop. Please - you need the iron."

You didn't understand why.

“I can't, it-” you stopped suddenly, pushing your chair back, “excuse me.”

Azriel watched you hurry to his bedroom, to the ensuite inside. He hesitated only a moment before he followed after you. If you asked him to, truly wanted him to, he would leave, even if it would kill him.

He found you, forehead leaning against the ceramic basin as you took exhausted, heaving breaths. His shadows swarmed forward, lifting your hair off your overheated neck. A moment later he crouched down, hand moving down your back in broad, sweeping strokes.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, you concentrated on the feeling of his calloused hands against the thin fabric of your shirt. Familiar. Safe.

“I don't understand why I can't eat. I love your steak,” you mumbled defeatedly, voice breaking in frustration.

“I know, Y/n,” he soothed, “you’re not well, sweetheart.” Azriel's voice was gentle, patient as he explained.

“Hmm. I don't feel well.”

“It's your cycle, angel. You've been more tired this week, not just from the training. The migraines, and now the nausea.” Azriel paused, voice somehow even softer, “it’s all normal. Awful but normal."

A black shadowy tendril darted forward, brushing your neck, providing cooling relief to the hot skin.

You exhaled. “Okay. Thank you, Az.” Turning to him, you added with the most convincing smile you could muster, “you can leave now.”

Azriel's brows furrowed. In your delirium, you reached out a thumb to smooth away the crease.

You rarely touched Azriel’s face. Azriel was your friend; tender face-touching wasn’t really something that friends did. The realisation took a second to register, and you startled, quickly retracting your hand and letting it fall to your lap.

Azriel’s hand engulfed yours a second later, squeezing reassuringly. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked, honestly.

You looked up to his earnest face, hazel eyes patient as ever. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. The last man I was with-” you winced, quickly shaking your head. “It doesn't matter,” you trailed off, cheeks heating with embarrassment.

Azriel looked appalled. “He was truly pathetic, then,” he bit out, eyes burning with fury. More calmly, he continued, “you didn't do anything wrong, angel. It’s natural for your body to do this. I hate that you’re in pain, but I’m not uncomfortable. Not at all.”

You smiled at him gratefully, chest feeling lighter.

He reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You fought the urge to cringe - it was drenched with sweat, clinging to your face by your eye. But Azriel seemed unfazed, his touch reverent.

Strange.

“Can I take you to bed?”

You opened your mouth to reply, just as a sharp pain tore through your abdomen. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips.

Just then, Azriel looked pained, too. You wondered why. Was he injured somewhere, too?

“I know it hurts, sweetheart. I'm sorry,” Azriel said, voice sympathetic as his thumb brushed your cheek.

You shifted your focus back to Azriel’'s hand on your back, still moving soothingly along your spine, on taking even breaths. But once the haze cleared, your senses narrowed on the faint metallic tang of blood permeating the air between you.

“Oh. This is-” your voice broke, tears finally slipping out, “you shouldn't be here. You can’t be here, Az.”

At your panicked tone, Azriel pulled away, quickly - reluctantly - giving you space. You averted your gaze, but he nodded, reassuring. “I can go, sweetheart. I will go if you truly want me to.”

You didn't want that, not even a little. But how could you ask him to stay? It was a miracle that he hadn’t already left, given how many times you’d asked, albeit half-heartedly. He rivalled you in sheer stubbornness, though this fact had never made your chest ache in the way it now did.

“But, you once told me there was no shame in feeling pain. That there was no shame in being gentle with yourself,” he paused meaningfully, “there is no shame in asking for help when you need it either, sweetheart. You were the one who helped me learn that.”

You looked up at that, meeting his eyes. Tears were falling in earnest now and you opened your arms, reaching out, voice cracking in a small sob.

You weren’t sure who moved closer first, but you were instantly bundled in Azriel’s arms, sitting across his lap as he held you close. His wings came to wrap around you in a protective embrace, the cool membrane impossibly soothing against the overheated skin of your arms.

Azriel weathered all of it, holding you close as the waves of pain continued piercing through you. His arms around you were firm, steadfast, and Azriel rested his cheek on top of your head, utterly content to hold you like this as long as you needed. He did not falter for a moment as you cried into the soft cotton of his shirt.

As your heaving breaths began to slow, sobs finally growing quieter. you wondered how everything could feel so easy with him. How you could feel so safe. It was rare - you would never be able to find anything like this again.

And that thought had the tears falling fast once again.

Azriel’s arms around you tightened further in response. It should have been impossible.He remained quiet; nothing needed to be said between you, anyway.

In the time you’d known him, you’d quickly learned Azriel wasn't chatty. Yet when he did speak, it was always what you needed to hear, uncomfortable truths or otherwise. But the silences were equally comfortable. Azriel was steady, enduring. You wouldn’t change a thing.

Ear against Azriel’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart, you were vaguely aware that time continued to pass. If that fact weighed on Azriel, if his legs had numbed from your weight pressing into them, he certainly didn’t let on.

But you couldn't hide from reality forever. And the blood that you now felt starting to soak through your leggings was a harsh reckoning.

You pulled away, sliding off Azriel's lap as his wings eased from around you, arms following suit.

He smiled at you softly. “Better?”

“Better,” you murmured. You’d let yourself indulge today, but didn’t deserve him. Not even for a moment.

Azriel stood slowly, beginning to walk away from where you sat on the tiled floor.

He’d realised the same.

He was leaving.

It was hard to quell the disappointment beginning to churn through your stomach. You didn’t have the right to be disappointed. Azriel was your friend, and your pain was not his responsibility.

You were not his.

The realisation was a punch to your gut, the hurt somehow feeling more debilitating than the cramping sensations that continued to flood your abdomen.

But you’d lived more than two decades of your life without depending on him, on anyone, really. You could learn to do it again, however painful it would be.

Self-aware to a fault, you recognised that you weren’t easy to be with. Least of all, your breakdown today was a glaring indication. And Azriel had endured a difficult childhood, and overcome so much. His life was still complicated, busy, and he deserved someone easier.

You didn’t have a home - your parents passed young and the Beddors had been the closest thing you’d had to a family before they suffered the same fate. And once you’d finally begun to process everything, to tread water, you’d nearly drowned in the cauldron, and turned fae.

Lost in thought, it felt like your other senses had halted, too. It was no wonder you didn't register the familiar baritone cutting through the silence - not the first time, nor the second. Maybe not even the third.

“Y/n?” Azriel tried again, voice gentle. His gaze was worried as you finally heard him and met his eyes.

Azriel was by the door, leaning down and reaching into the top drawer under the large sink countertop.

He’d gotten up, but he hadn’t left.

Your vision became blurry again. Distantly, you registered Azriel moving towards you, carrying something in his hands.

Moving to crouch in front of you, Azriel’s brows furrowed, again.

“I thought you might want to wear a pad,” Azriel explained, unravelling the outer fabric wrapping to reveal a cloth pad inside. Your heart squeezed. “It’s cotton, not hemp. I know you’re allergic,” he added quietly.

It was so matter-of-fact, an explanation rather than an invitation for gratitude. You felt it, anyway.

You’d mentioned your allergy once, months and months ago, when you were still human. Azriel had come in the afternoon, earlier than usual, nearby due to a Spring Court visit. He’d grinned, explaining Cassian’s seasonal allergies and you’d laughed hard before telling Azriel about the time you’d made porridge with hemp seed instead of oatmeal and broken out in hives. Very alarmed at first, he’d eventually chuckled at the sound of your contagious laughter.

It had been a tongue-in-cheek comment, completely insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

A few more tears fell from your eyes.

“Oh no, please don't cry, Y/n. I’m sorry.” Large thumbs moved to swipe under your eyes with a heartbreaking tenderness that had you wanting to cry all over again. You squeezed your eyelids shut.

“Fool. Why are you sorry?” you sniffled exasperatedly. It was misplaced frustration, the true culprit being your own lack of emotional regulation. “You're an angel, Az. Truly.” Under your breath, you mumbled, “your girl will be the luckiest faerie in Prythian.”

Azriel broke out into a wide smile bringing out his dimples, eyes bright and twinkling. He looked at you, gaze knowing in a way that you couldn't even begin to unpack in your current state, lest you come up with a truly delusional answer.

“You deserve to have someone who cares about you as deeply as you do for others. More,” he said easily, eyes sincere.

Flustered, you had averted your gaze. You focused on keeping your hands by your sides and not raising your cold palms to your rapidly overheating face.

“I’m honoured that you trust me enough to care for you like this. Especially after everything,” he said, voice quiet. After Hybern.

“That isn't on you, Azriel. Do not think for one moment that you are responsible, because you are not. I most certainly do not hold you responsible for Hybern’s actions,” you said fiercely.

Azriel’s free hand hung limply by his side. You reached forward holding it between both of your own.

“Despite everything that has changed in my life, I will always be grateful that you are in it.” Perhaps for the first time today, your voice did not waver. The only thing you were truly sure about.

“Thank you,” Azriel said, voice hoarse. “Tell me you know that I feel the same.”

“I do know, Az,” you assured gently. It was true. He had shown you countless times before today, too.

A pause. Then, “do you want me to run you a bath?” Azriel’s eyes searched your face.

“Yes, please. In all honesty, I’m ready for a nap but it would be nice to feel clean,” you mused. Another cramp tore through your stomach, and you winced. Azriel frowned, looking so deeply distressed that you had to laugh. “I’m sure the warm water will help too,” you grinned wryly.

Azriel smiled then. “Good idea.” He walked to the large tub, twisting both bronze taps, testing the temperature with a finger under the faucet, before adjusting again, testing the temperature, repeat.

You watched Azriel fuss over the bath, feeling your heart grow another ten sizes.

When he returned to your side, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing into his chest. He returned the embrace, folding you in his arms. You grinned.

Azriel felt your smile through his thin cotton shirt and chuckled. “Should I get your clothes?” Azriel asked, before adding, almost shyly, “or you can wear some of mine. If you'd like.”

“Thanks, Az. I’ll wear your cobalt blue henley. If that's okay?"

“My blue... what?”

“Henley,” you repeat, slowly, drawing out both syllables. You pulled back, relaxing your hold to stare at him.

Azriel’s quizzical expression didn’t shift. “I have no clue what that is.”

You burst out laughing, pulling away at last. You reached for his hand, and Azriel swiftly laced your fingers. “Let me show you.”

Leading him from the room, you walked to his large dresser, reaching on tiptoes for the top drawer. Hand on the bronze knob, you pulled the drawer open with a small huff, the contents heavy.

You turned back to look at Azriel with jokingly narrowed eyes, “you own way too many clothes.”

He huffed a silent laugh, hand gesturing to his dresser, curious to see how exactly you would pick out this “blue henley” when you couldn’t actually see the clothes inside.

Your smile became smug, following his train of thought. Maintaining eye contact, you felt around the drawer with your hands, sifting through layers of folded garments with practised ease, before gently pulling out the shirt in question.

You held it up for him, grin unfaltering.

Azriel’s jaw fell open, expression now awed. “How did you know?” he asked quietly, eyes soft.

Smile shrinking, you fought the urge to shirk away from his fond gaze. Your cheeks heated before you admitted, “I… wear it sometimes when Rhys sends you away for longer missions.”

Azriel broke into a broad smile, so bright and radiant that you quickly decided the mild humiliation you felt was worth it. He didn’t say anything, just smiling at you with dimples and sparkling eyes. Looking so handsome that you didn't know what to do with yourself.

So, you kept talking.

“I worry sometimes. Often. I know you are over five hundred years old and you have been doing this job for a long time. But you have all said that we face bigger threats than Hybern. And I know you can handle yourself, Az, but your self-sacrificing tendencies really freak me out,” you say quickly, before pausing for breath.

The exact combination of emotions swirling in his irises was difficult to pinpoint. But his gaze remained warm, safe. It gave you the courage to continue. “Somehow, that shirt always smells like you. Even after I wash it. I wear it to bed sometimes because it just feels like... you’re not as far away,” you finished with a shy smile.

Azriel's gaze did not falter from your face, the love radiating so brightly from him that no creature in Prythian, blind or otherwise, could deny that he regarded you with a reverence unrivalled by even the suns that orbited the galaxy. He closed the gap between you in a single step pulling you to him so fast you stumbled into his chest with a small, startled huff. You quickly braced your palms on his shoulders, balancing yourself.

Azriel pulled back slightly, soft lips placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before he pulled you close once again, sighing contentedly. “I know my job has its risks, and you have every right to worry. But I promise that I will do everything in my power to come back home to you, angel. Always.” He added, less serious, “I am sure Rhys or Cass or Mor or Amren can confirm that I have been much less self-sacrificing since you came into the picture.”

“Oh?”

“You can ask them yourself,” Azriel confirmed. Later, he’d also tell you about the preservation charm he suspected Rhys had placed on that shirt. Reluctantly, Azriel pulled back, but interlaced your hands as he added, “bath first, though. It'll help.”

“Cassian was right. You really are a mother hen,” you grinned, allowing him to lead you back to the bathroom nonetheless.

“Cassian is my biggest hater,” Azriel groaned. “Worst wingman ever,” he mumbled under his breath.

You laughed. “Please. You have never needed a wingman, Azriel. Don’t even pretend like your shadows don't tell you what all the ladies of Prythian think about your wingspan.”

Azriel choked. Then, quickly recovering, "and how would you know?"

“...Guilty.”

Entering the bathroom, Azriel led you to the tub, swarmed by shadowy tendrils. Two distinct black shapes swirled around the taps, twisting them off.

“Thank you,” you whispered, smiling as they swirled happily in response.

A larger cluster of shadows gathered at the tiled surrounds on the opposite end of the tub, swirling around a small wooden tray of small vials. The water itself was now filled with warm and lots of bubbles. You grinned.

A tiny shadow lifted a small brown bottle with a purple label, while its friend twisted off the stopper.

You watched as a few drops of the pale yellow liquid fell into the tub.

“Is that lavender?” you asked, turning to Azriel.

“Yes. Essential oils. I wish I could take credit, but the idea was entirely theirs.” His eyes twinkled as they met yours.

You burst out laughing.

Azriel’s eyes crinkled, the melodic tones of his laughter filling the space, combining with your own, echoing through the chamber. As the tangerine neon light of the sunset poured in through the window, illuminating his beautiful face, you knew this was all you needed.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Thank you for reading 🩷

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadow singer #azriel spymaster #acotar

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pinkhoodi · 2 days

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bat dads or girl dads ? girl dads !

✎ᝰ — bat boys as girl dads !

♡⃕ — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd x reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff + children ??

♡⃕ — a/n: dick as a father would make me- nvm that !

꒰ BRUCE WAYNE ꒱

Ꮺ “no” rarely exists and he realized that a while ago. when his beautiful daughter was first born, he would be stern (still loving) and make sure to deny any of his daughter’s requests. as years go and his daughter gets older, it becomes harder to say no to his precious child

Ꮺ he won’t admit it but it’s something about her adorable features that make it harder and harder to say no. even if it’s the most wildest request, he’ll try to accomplish it or tell her “I’ll think about it”. the cute pout, the ways her eyes widen, and her adorable going please please please dad. how can he say no :(

Ꮺ BUT if he can’t obtain that request, his favorite excuse is “I’ll think about it”. even when his daughter catches onto his games, he’ll continue use it and just throw on an extra lie to help out

Ꮺ bruce is the dilf that everyone flirts with and it’s exhausting for him. he tries to avoid pta meetings at all costs but can’t cause his daughter loves those meetings. while the women flirt, the daughter gets free cookies ;p

Ꮺ this man bruce is studying long and gruesome hours on how to raise a girl. raising his eldest son at ten years old is the closest thing he had and it wasn’t helping. prepare yourself for the “am I doing this right?” “is this good for her?” “are you sure this is what we should give her?”

Ꮺ surprisingly, he became quickly accustomed to his bat cave and his office being glittered and glammed. the buttons on the monitor have stickers and his batmobile having a bow on it

Ꮺ learning from his mistakes from his other children, he will try to leave little to no detail about his night activities to his daughter. she knows about the bat cave (due to exploring and being bored in the mansion) but he refuses to take her on missions and don’t allow her to be in the bat cave if the mission is extremely dangerous

Ꮺ daddy-daughter days is something bruce prioritizes! he doesn’t care what is planned before or after that, he’ll make one day every month to spend time with his daughter. whether it be going to the mall, the movies, spending the day at a kids play center, or even napping. that day in his calendar is meant for his daughter and his daughter only

꒰ JASON TODD ꒱

Ꮺ the most laidback father you could ever meet BUT he knows when it’s time to be concerning and when it’s time to be the fun dad

Ꮺ the man almost passed out when his gorgeous daughter was born. he couldn’t take how adorable his lil girl was in the room, he had to step out and started crying. he couldn’t believe he’s a father now :(

Ꮺ it does take jason time to adjust being a father. his patience isn’t the best but he is learning ! he tries as much as he can to unpack all his bad qualities and become better for his daughter before she was born

Ꮺ as much as he is laidback, he is also very cautious and makes sure to have all his weapons away and locked up from his daughter. he refuses to let ANY incident happen just cause he was being careless

Ꮺ he is one to always allow his daughter to decorate his face, no matter how ridiculous he looks. he’ll gladly pose with stickers on his eyelids, three bows on his head and one tied on his wrist, and heart glasses on if it makes his daughter happy

Ꮺ his daughter is lowkey his mood maker. he won’t admit but however his daughter feels is how HE feels. but he won’t take it out on her, absolutely not ! if she’s grumpy, he’s grumpy with her. she’s hungry ? he’s hungry as well. even if he’s feeling fine, he’ll play along with her so she can get what she want from YOU (mischievous mfs mmcht)

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱

Ꮺ the most girliest dads of all girl dads <333. he’s there for any and everything and is NEVER one to say no to his dad. though sometimes he doesn’t realize when to be a disciplined dad and a fun dad

Ꮺ he’ll make sure to never, and I mean never, have his daughter follow into the life that he is in. as much he enjoys saving gotham and bludhaven, he refuses to let his daughter lead into a life of danger and being unsure of whether or not he’ll be home soon

Ꮺ he has an endless amount of pics of him and his daughter. his lockscreen is you and him holding her at six months old, his homescreen being his daughter at one years old, and even his voicemail is him and his daughter saying hi and sorry to miss your call

Ꮺ being a dad is something dick cherishes so much and he’ll gift everything his child wants and more. he’ll do any and everything to have his daughter be happy, even if he can’t get it

Ꮺ between him and his daughter, the exchanges of “I love you dad” and “I love you more” happen more on his side. many “I love yous” as the two of them giggle and he kisses her forehead. they’re so cute :(

Ꮺ unlike bruce, he loves going to pta meetings. he does get uncomfortable with the flirting from other moms but he’s really only there for the free treats and how to better improve his daughter’s education

Ꮺ the biggest gift giving dad as well ! he likes coming home with a surprise in his hand and hearing his daughter gasp and smile at the gift in his hand. it warms his heart when she says thank you and hugs his leg tightly, nearly squeezing it with the gift in her hand

Ꮺ the two nap a lot together. it’s one of dick’s favorite pastime when he’s relaxing with crime fighting

♡⃕ the bat boys as girl dads ☹️🫶🏽. it would be uber cute seeing jason walk into his helmet decorated in barbie stickers

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: 2 thessalonians 3:3

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pinkflower2003 · 2 days

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STAY

Max Verstappen x Horner!Reader

Warnings : Angst, walking out on pregnant girlfriend? idk, dick Max? (honestly idk why i thought of this the thing just came into my head) Girlies i’m so sorry if this is shit this is my first time writing for someone if F1, this is just fiction idk all the facts.

Summary : As Christian Horners daughter, you were bound to meet Max Verstappen. What happens when you get pregnant when he is on the verge of becoming world champion and he doesn’t want to become a father? What happens when 3 years later after leaving each other’s lives, you get invited to the Grand Prix and he sees you again, this time with a little boy who looks just like him?

This is my first ever imagine on here so it’s probably really bad but i’m trying yall, we’re gonna work on it.

When you first met Max, you were both 18, he had started driving for red bull and you had started going to your dad’s, Christian Horner’s, work for some experience.

Racing wasn’t something you were exactly into, but it was practically your families life, so you grew up on it. At 18, you had decided to have a go at working in PR & media, and the RedBull F1 company was the perfect place to do that. Then you met Max, and your whole experience there changed.

Up until that point, you had never met a boy like him, he was so different, so passionate about the sport and you had to admit to yourself that you liked being around him, and he liked being around you.

And a relationship started around a year after you first met, a whole year of shy smiles to each other, hugs in excitement when he won, ones that lasted slightly longer than they should have. A year after you met was when Max finally had the guts to ask you out, and you, privately, got giddy with excitement.

He was your first everything. Your first date, your first kiss, your first boyfriend, and the first one you had sex with.

You couldn’t get enough of each other, you were utterly in love with him and everyone could see it. Max was never very good at showing his emotions, until it came to you, that’s when he completely changed.

Then one day, 3 years into your relationship, two pink lines turned up on a stick. You and Max had always been careful, a baby wasn’t what was wanted or needed at the time, you both knew that, Max was focusing on his racing career, he was determined to be the very best he could without letting anything getting in his way, and becoming at father at 21 would do just that.

But he deserved to know, and in your heart you hoped that the love the two of you shared would make everything okay, that it would all work out. But it didn’t.

Max freaked out, saying he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be a father, he wouldn’t be a father. He struggled with his relationship with his father growing up, he had barely gotten over that, and now his own child? No, he refused. And so you left, saying goodbye to him, you left.

And so you went back home to England, leaving Max behind, starting a new life with your baby. It wasn’t until 3 years later that Max would finally see your baby.

Otto had just turned 3, and he was the light of your world, his baby blue eyes and light blonde hair in slight curls was the thing that got you through each day.

Dropping Otto off at nursery, you got a phone-call from your dad.

“Hey sweetheart,”

“Hey dad, everything okay?”

“Listen, i know you’re probably going to say no, and that’s fine, but how about you and Otto coming to the Grand Prix this year? I know how much he likes cars, maybe he’d like to come and see them. He always go on about it, I thought it might be a nice idea to bring him out.”

You sighed, you knew how much your dad wanted to involve his grandson in the sport. Christian would always sit and watch the races reruns with him on tv when he got home, and played Disney’s cars with him when they saw each other. You knew your dad just wanted to do something special for Otto, but was it really worth the risk of seeing Max again, going through all the heartache again.

“I don’t know dad-“

“Max won’t be anywhere near you guys Y/N, I promise, you won’t have to see him, he won’t even know you guys are there.” You sighed again, know your dad was really wanting you to do this.

“You promise?” you asked, almost like a child.

“I promise.”

“I’ll think about it.”

And so you thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it until it kept you up at night.

It was only 48 before the Grand Prix that you had decided to go, and it was a tough decision, but for the sake of your son’s happiness, you gave in.

Getting there, you were greeted by your dad and his wife, Geri, who both immediately pulled you and your son into a hug. Geri looked at your son, “he’s gotten so big! I remember the day he was born, it seems like just yesterday.”

You smiled at her, it was true, the first 3 years of his life flew by in the blink of an eye, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest, not only for yourself, but for Max who never got to witness it. He would never get to see his first steps, his first smile, all because he didn’t want to. Everything in you said to be angry at Max, and while you were, you felt sad for him, because how sad that he would never get to see how amazing your son was.

Your dad took Otto out of your arms, cuddling his grandson who had a lightening mcqueen backpack on and a redbull baseball cap on. “Ready Ottie? We’re gonna go and see some cars, you excited?”

Otto squealed in delight, he fist pumped the air. “Yeah! Cars that go zoom?” He asked, in his sweet little voice.

“Cars that go very zoom,” Christian replied to him.

Running into Max almost seemed inevitable, even when your dad had promised you that he would be no where near you or Otto, but you hadn’t expected it to be because of your son running up to him.

Before the race began, before Max got into his car, before he would even be able to realise you were there, your dad had taken you and Otto to see the car, knowing your little boy would love it. Christian had promised you Max wouldn’t be there, he would be off getting ready for the race and doing some media responsibilities.

And he was, you and your little boy were enjoying yourselves, Otto go the chance to sit in the car, you and your dad got photos with him, he was giggling none stop, and you couldn’t help but feel this is how it could’ve been, just with Max being the one to show his little boy around.

Taking Otto out the car, your dad put him on the ground, holding his hand to keep him there. You and your dad talked more about the car, admiring it. You both hadn’t notice that the door had opened, and Otto had run straight towards the person that had opened it.

“Y/N?” the voice said, causing you to turn around, going pale.

Max was stood there, your little boy at his feet, his little baseball cap falling slightly over his eyes from the impact of running into Max’s legs.

You stood there speechless, not sure what to say after all these years. Your dad ran to get Otto, who giggled as his grandad picked him up, while Max just stared at him.

“He-Is that?” Max said, breathless pointing to your child, but you just stood there, heart beating out of your chest.

Otto made grabbing hands towards you, trying to get out of his grandad’s arms, “mummy!” He screeched, and you took his out of your dad’s hands, gathering his things in your hands, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“I’m sorry, coming here was a mistake.” You said quietly, trying to walk out the door where Max was stood.

“No wait!” Max said, not wanting you to leave, but you were now angry. He didn’t want you to leave now, but it was okay three years ago? Your heart had shattered when he wanted nothing to do with your baby, and it seemed to have shattered all over seeing him once again. “What’s his name?” He asked, staring at your little boy, who had the same eyes as him.

“Otto Max Horner.”

You could see Max trying to calm his breathing, his hands slightly shaking. Otto looked at Max, giving him a goofy smile, not understanding what was happening.

“Stay,” Max said to the both of you. “Just stay under after the race. Please just let me talk to you, let me talk to him, just stay for the race.”

You just smiled at him, sadly.

“You should have asked me to stay three years ago Max, it’s too late for that now.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #red bull racing #max verstappen x reader #x reader #imagine #red bull f1

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spencereid-reads · 3 days

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the whole world | s. reid

wc: 3.4k words // warnings: english isn't my first language! soooo much fluuuuuffinessss, swear words maybe? NOT proofread as you can see., a kid, spencer being cute, aaah idk what else, i think this sucks but it's mother's day today where i live and for some reason i couldn't stop thinking about dad!spence so this was born. (ha, that was unintentional)

dad!spence x mom!fem!reader

you’re not really sure what wakes you up.

if it’s the change of temperature in the bed, a sign that spencer had recently gotten up and started his day. or if it’s the small, soft footsteps running around the house.

you know it’s taking everything in your little hazel not to spoil the mother’s day surprise she’s been working on at school. one of the many features she and her father share is their fascination to talk and talk about anything and everything, and more often than not, you are the person they tell everything to. so your daughter had been in a bit of a predicament since you first picked her up from school on a monday afternoon.

“had fun today, haze?” you asked, buckling her into her seat in the back of your car.

“yeah,” she nodded, kicking her legs in the air.

“what did you do?” it was the same routine every day, and she was ready to begin telling you all about the new special project they started working on when suddenly she heard her teacher’s voice in her head.

‘it’s a surprise for mommy! you all have to try and keep it a secret!’

“can’t say.”

“what?” you asked, leaning back a little, letting her bag drop below her feet.

“miss tate said we can only tell daddy! mommy can’t know until it's mommy day.” she explained.

“ohhh, you’re working on something for mother’s day, lovey?” you smiled as you caressed her cheek, cupping her face with your hand, she leaned into it instinctively.

“...maybe.” she grinned at you.

“okay, honey. you know you can tell me if you want to talk about it, okay? i know you must be so excited, and i promise you i’m not going to be mad, i’m going to love it no matter what it is, got it?” you pressed a few kisses all over her face, your heart melting at the sound of her giggles. “or you can tell daddy when he comes home, he’s good at keeping secrets, you know?”

“yeah! i tell daddy”

and every day leading up to mother’s day, she tried to skip the subject about what she did at school, and as much as you loved that panicked expression on her face, the way her hazel eyes widened and cheeks blushed you decided not to torture her anymore.

she’s so easy to read. just like her father.

her perfect, loving father. who told you to take a day all to yourself that friday leading up to mother’s day, it was also the day when the kids were sent home with the project, so it would also give spence and hazel the chance to hide it and perfect it.

while you enjoyed a day at a spa, filled with massages and pampering, your little loves were at the mall looking for a gift.

“what would you like to give her, haze?” spence asked, looking at his daughter through the rearview mirror. “what do you think mommy would like?”

“well, green is her favorite color. so, green?”

“something green, that sounds nice,” he nodded, his chest nearly trembling as he stole glances at his daughter. five years in and he still found it hard to believe he had a daughter. a child. a perfect, beautiful, smart and kind daughter. who looked so much like him and so much like you at the same time. “i heard her tell auntie em she needed a new handbag.” he suggested,

“we can buy her a green handbag!”

“i think that’s an excellent idea, hazey.” spencer smiled, holding the steering wheel with one hand, the other stretched out towards his child. “high-five,” he said, and felt her tiny hand smack against his, “good girl,” he smiled proudly.

since hazel was still in your womb, you knew she’d be a tall girl. i mean, look at her dad! but at five years old, whilst hazel is tall compared to children her age, she looks tiny when standing next to spencer. her head reached just below his waist, and her arm hurt whenever she walking alongside him because spencer pulled her little hand up to meet his, but she had to stretch so far up and it was just the sweetest sight in the world.

it’s late when you got home that night, thirty minutes past hazel’s bedtime, yet the moment you stepped in you heard the sounds of her favorite cartoon coming from the tv.

blossom instructs her two sisters in a plan to defeat that day’s monster, and you expected to find your own little powerpuff girl running around the living room, but other than the tv, the rest of the house was silent. you kicked off your shoes, walking to the coffee table to turn the tv off when you saw them.

spencer with his back on the couch, somehow his legs bent but still managed to stay upright, and your daughter resting against his chest, his arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

and you took a second or two to soak in the view. spencer’s head was to the side, and hazel was pressed so far into his neck that it’s hard to point out where his curls end and hers begin.

you walked to them, your hand reaching to play with hazel’s hair as you leaned to press a kiss to spencer’s forehead. it’s scary how quickly they capture your undivided attention, just the sight of either of them was enough to make you drop whatever it was you were doing.

“hey,” spencer’s voice was groggy, sleep evident in it and in the way he struggled to peel his eyes open, like his eyelids were begging to stay shut.

“it’s okay, go back to sleep. i’ll take her,” you said, but felt a light tug on your wrist.

“c’mere,” he mumbled, scooting to the back of the couch and making space for you. you gave in, squeezing your way in and adjusting hazel on top of you so you don’t choke with her hair against your mouth. “had fun?” you felt spencer’s hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, sneaking under your shirt.

“yeah. thank you, needed it,” you don’t know if it’s the busy day you had, or just the sight of your two loves sleeping that made you feel tired, too. you covered a yawn with the back of your hand. “you?”

“mhm,” he hummed in agreement, “hazey couldn’t decide on one thing. said you’d loved so many things. got you everything.”

“spence-” you scolded lightly.

“i know. but you should’ve seen her. too cute. too much like you.”

“like you, you mean.”

“hmm,” he opened one eye, pulling you closer, being careful with your girl on top of you. “like us. she’s got the best of us.”

and she does.

she’s funny and smart like spencer, kind and caring like you.

you don’t know where the sassiness came from, though.

(kidding, it’s all spencer, he wouldn't admit it)

“daddy, can i put a candle?” hazel asks, she’s done with placing the grapes into a bowl and looking for something else to add to your ‘mother’s day pavaganza’, a phrase she’d picked up from hearing auntie penny ask about your spa day, and had repeated to her spencer, who didn't have the heart to correct her when she sounded so adorable.

“i just know those little geniuses have a big mother’s day extravaganza planned for you,” she’d said, just as hazel entered the kitchen.

“on the pancakes?” spencer asks, she nods. “sure,”

the drawer slams a little louder than she’d intended, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes widen in shock.

“sorry, daddy!” she runs to him, one hand on the stool she’s currently trying to climb, the other fisting spencer’s pajama pants. “here,” she hands him the pink birthday candle you’d used for her birthday cake.

“thank you, hazey,”

you chuckle as you listen to them, you can’t hear all of it, but you can tell she’s getting louder the more excited she gets. it’s only a matter of minutes before the chaos that had been in the kitchen joins you in your bedroom. you pretend to sleep, curling into spencer’s side of the bed, and closing your eyes.

“she’s asleep! daddy, can i wake her?” you hear her laughing when you fake snore.

“go ahead, haze, gentle,” he reminded her, even though he knew you were awake.

“mommy,” you hear her running to the other side of the bed, “mama,” she climbs in next to you, lying next to you, you feel her breath on your face. then she presses wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek, and you swoon.

“hmm, who's giving me such sweet kisses?” you ask, being met with a grinning hazel as you open your eyes.

“it's mommy day!” she exclaims, arms looping around your neck with a strength you hadn't expected, “love you mommy,”

“i love you too, my angel, so, so, so much,” you wrap your arms around your little girl and hug her tight, setting your back against the mattress. you kiss all over her face and head, her little hands sticky and stained in maple syrup and jam.

“made you mommy day food,” she laughed as you tickled her sides. “daddy!”

spencer has taken residence by the end of the bed, the tray filled with breakfast set carefully on his lap.

“happy mother's day, honey,” he whispered against your lips, once the tray has been set in front of hazel, who can't help but pick a few slices of fruit to help herself.

“thank you, love you,” you kissed him once more, running a hand through his hair as you turn to look at your girl. “is it yummy?” you ask her as she pops a grape in her mouth, she nods, “i bet it's cause you and your daddy made it.”

it's a few hours later, after you're all showered and dressed, that you go downstairs and find the living room all decorated, with balloons and strings and three pieces of paper stuck to the wall that read ‘happy’, ‘mommy’, ‘day’ in spencer’s handwriting, but drawings made by hazel surrounding the words.

“mommy close your eyes,” you're sitting on the couch, all the gifts that hazel couldn't choose from are now open and on the coffee table. turns out the other gifts had just been little trinkets, a headband, a small bracelet, a keychain. “it's time for the surprise!”

“what surprise? i didn't know there would be a surprise!” your heart melted at her laughter.

“daddy cover her eyes,” she orders, and spencer makes his way around the sofa, standing behind you, he leans down, tilting your head back and pressing his lips on your temple.

“i’ve got it, hazey,” he nearly purrs against your skin, and as spencer continues his soft attack on your face, you hear hazel running through the house, “we hid it in my office,” he pulls back a little, staring at you with so much love.

“thank you for today,” you whisper, your cheeks were now hurting from the permanent smile that had been on your face the entire day.

“it's nothing, you deserve the world, honey.” and he means it. when he was young he'd pushed the idea of love to the side, with his job and his lack of social skills it was hard to picture a future with a family, but here he was. thanks to you. “i love you so much, you've got no idea,” he leaned down again, this time kissing your lips, accomplishing two things at once.

kissing you, and getting you to close your eyes.

“ready mommy?” you'd been so wrapped up in your husband that you missed your daughter walking back to you.

you looked down to see a scrapbook (just a few colored paper sheets binded by ribbon), a picture of you and hazel on the cover, in the middle.

“angel, this is beautiful,” you coo through teary eyes, embracing her fully before you even looked at the rest of the book.

the three of you settled on the sofa, with hazel between you two as she explained why she picked the pictures, something she'd done with spencer’s help. the pages were decorated with crayon drawings, glitter hearts, and stickers.

the last picture brought even more tears to your eyes, you were sitting in a hospital bed, with spencer by your side, his hand wrapped around your back, the both of you staring down at the new little baby that had just been born.

hazel’s first ever picture.

“look at this, hazey, you were so tiny,” you swallowed a lump in your throat, “and look at you now, you're so big, my sweet girl.”

“daddy said this is the day you became a mommy,"

“technically i was a mommy when you were in my belly,” you patted your stomach, “but my entire life was changed the minute you were born, i loved you before i even knew you, and i didn't know i could feel that much love for someone so little. hazey-” you said, shuffling her around so she was sitting on your lap, spencer pressed your back against his chest. you looked back at him, kissing his cheek.

“your daddy and i love you so much. it's an honor being your parents. every day i thank the stars that you're our little baby, that we get to raise you and see you grow. thank you for making me your mommy,”

“love you, mommy,” she nestled against your neck, “love you, daddy,” she reached up, puckered lips against spencer's other cheek.

“love you, hazey, you're my wish come true,” spencer placed a kiss on the top of her head.

that night, as you get ready for bed, feeling tired from all the emotions of the day, you snuggle against spencer's side.

“thank you for today. for helping haze,”

“of course, sweet, i told you, you deserve the world,” his lips meet yours in a gentle, slow kiss.

“i already have my whole world with me,” you tell him, voice full of sleep and love. “thank you for giving me my world.”

and if spencer had a time travel machine he would tell his younger self to not lose hope. the best years of his life were yet to come, his world wouldn't end when members of his chosen family left the team, his whole world and family were on the way.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid fluff #x reader #criminal minds imagine

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eraenaa · 2 days

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Loathe to Love

Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader

Synopsis: Seeking forgiveness is not a thing Aemond bothers himself with, but that quickly changes when he deeply offended you.

Warnings: ¿Softer Aemond?, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Targcest, Not Proofread

Word Count: 6,411

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, who, like her brothers, doesn't have Valyrian characteristics. A scene like at dinner, in which Aemond accuses his nephews of being strong and, consequently, his wife too." (!Not related to the past two fics that were Aemond x Reader Wife!)

A blessing or a curse? Neither of you knew how to take and label this marriage devised by your grandsire. It was a final plea to unite your estranged family, offering you as Aemond’s bride because the King’s fading mind was still set on how you and Aemond were entirely fond of each other in childhood. However, that sentiment had completely changed during the fateful night in Driftmark. Whatever fondness you and your uncle had in childhood had rolled away with the tides in your supposed father’s home. Affection turned into animosity, and animosity quickly turned into resentment.

However, with the marriage you and Aemond were succumbed to, you both tried your most ardent effort to work through past differences. And with half a year since your union, you and Aemond had almost fully buried the grievances you harbored against each other. Gone now was the reluctant prince who stood by the end of Sept waiting for his bride, who was practically dragged down the aisle. Looks of unbridled hatred had faded and turned to looks of passion and longing. Deep-rooted loathing was slowly fading into love that both of you had yet to admit to the other.

You broke fast in the gardens with your husband, a daily tradition that you and him established since the first days of your marriage. Most of the time, it would be just the two of you, but on some days, you two would be joined by his siblings and his mother, who surprisingly did not hold such great bitterness for you when compared to other members of your kin. And on a day such as this, you were joined by the queen and her only daughter, Helaena. “I saw the maids preparing some of the guest chambers. Are we to host a lord and their house, my Queen?” You asked your mother through marriage with a tilt of your head, your hand intertwined with your husband’s under a table, hidden from anyone’s view.

Aemond raised his eye from the book he was reading and placed it on his mother. “Not particularly guests… your mother and your brothers are set to visit,” She replied, and your brows shot up in surprise. Aemond turned to you, plush lips agape in shock. “Did you not know?” The queen asked, and you shook your head. “No… they had not written to me about such matters,” You said, your lips twitching into a smile of excitement as you had terribly missed our family. You turned to your husband; whatever reaction he had was hidden behind his ever-stoic expression. However, you did feel his hold on your hand grow tighter. Though his animosity towards you had died with every kiss shared and every hour spent in each other’s arms, you could not say that that would be the case for the other members of your family. You could practically feel the tantalizing anger within radiating off him.

“I’m going to the tiltyard,” Aemond suddenly announced and abruptly stood up, making you sigh. His mother and sister nodded, but before his departure from breakfast, you felt him place a chaste kiss on your temple before walking off. Leaving you wide-eyed and blushing before his kin for neither of you had displayed such affections so openly. The touches and kisses and pleasures you shared were saved for the privacy of your marital chambers, and to have him do such an affectionate action in front of others was completely uncharacteristic of him. You lower your head as you feel your cheeks burn red, but if you had kept your head held up high, you would see a small smile on the queen’s lips, for she too was shocked and amused by her son’s actions. Never had she imagined for her favored son to find a wife that would bring out the warmth and tenderness in him that everyone believed to be lost the day his eye was taken by your younger brother.

For the rest of the day, you were busied with your engagements with the other ladies of the court to the point that the day had faded into the night. It was past the usual time of your supper, and you were certain your husband was preparing himself for bed, which is why it was a surprise when you entered your marital chambers with Aemond seated by the table where a meal for both of you lay, untouched. “You still have not eaten?” You asked as you stood behind your seat that was across your husband’s. “I was waiting for you,” Was all he said, as he motioned for you to sit. You blinked at him; the warm, flickering light of the fire illuminated his silver locks that were unique to your house but you had not inherited. The silhouette cast made his angular, Valyrian features more prominent, and you could not help but feel a small pang of jealousy, for you were never blessed with such acclaimed features that your house was celebrated for.

You licked your lips and removed your gaze from your husband’s lilac eye. You took your seat and quietly watched him as he placed items of food onto your plate. “You should have eaten earlier,” you said quietly, knowing that Aemond’s last meal was the one you shared in the morning, for your husband did not eat luncheon nor any other small meal to aid him between the morning and the evening. “Like I’ve said, I was waiting for you,” He said as he poured wine into your chalice. You flashed him a small smile of gratitude, and like always, he gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment. “How was your day?” You asked before taking a bit of the temped meal that had been waiting for you along with your husband. “Fine. I trained, I read, and then accompanied my grandsire with business,” he said and took a sip of wine. “And yours?” He asked, and you smiled as you began to recall your day.

Aemond nodded along as he ate, and you went on to tell him about your day. He had no intention of telling you, but this was his second-most favorite time of each day. He quickly had gotten used to listening to you babble and tell him about the ventures you had just hours before. He had no particular care about the subjects of which you spoke of; all he cared about was hearing you speak. Watching you as you would reenact your encounters or how your expression would change when you told him about the latest gossip in court. He would always note how your voice would grow an octave higher when you spoke of an event you found most entertaining or exciting, and he loved gazing into your beguiling, brown eyes that would twinkle in the candlelight.

“Will you accompany me tomorrow?” You asked as you had finished retelling your day to your husband. “To where?” Aemond asked as he was slightly disappointed that you did not have many anecdotes to share that night; you would usually have prolonged stories that Aemond would listen attentively to until he had fished his meal. “To welcome my mother, father, and brothers by the pits when they arrive,” You say and play with the peas on your plate. Aemond was silent for a moment; you took in a deep breath and thought that perhaps your request was a bit much for him. Though you expected him to act civilly with your kin, wanting him to join you in welcoming them was perhaps a bit much. “Nevermind… I ca—“ Your husband interrupted your sentence. “I shall join you,” he said, and your lips agape in shock once more.

Aemond bit his tongue to hinder himself from smiling widely at the expression that flashed before your pretty face. His urges announced himself as his eye caught your plump lips parted; amusement and arousal swirling within him. “You will?” You asked, making certain you had heard no false agreement. “My lady wife had made a simple request; of course, I shall oblige it,” He answered and felt his heart flutter as a beaming smile spread to your lips. Aemond felt fire in his veins as you stood from your seat and went to him to place a supposed chaste kiss on his lips, but Aemond wanted more. You gasped as you were pulled to sit on his lap, your kiss deepening with each moment and your body aching with need as Aemond’s hands were holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek. You feel your husband’s need through his trousers and through your dress.

You moaned at the taste of wine on his tongue. His hand traveled toward your bosom, cupping your tit through the bodice of your dress, his fingers undoing the laces of your gown but the two of you never parted your intertwined lips. Aemond groaned as you accidentally bit his lip, but you would take it that he liked the occurrence as you felt his hips buck upwards and seek friction. Aemond reluctantly parted your lips to gasp for air; he watched you pant, eyes filled with longing and lust, lips swollen and shined with a glossy shine of him.

You yelped as your husband punched you on the table, sweeping away the meal you two had just shared, the plates and cutlery falling onto the floor with a loud noise, but neither of you heard as you two were completely lost and dazed with want for each other. You pulled Aemond towards you as you wanted to feel his lips once more. Aemond had fully undone the laces of your gown, and you felt the sleeves of it draping off and the hem of it being risen by your husband. You hummed in question as you felt Aemond push you to lie down on the wooden table. You propped yourself by your elbows to see what he was doing. Your eyes locked with his lone one as he sank to his knees. The hem of your dress had bundled up to your waist, and Aemond placed his cold hands at each of your thighs.

You bit harshly at your lower lip as he placed kisses on each side of your thighs, nipping the soft skin making you whimper at the stinging pain that he would immediately soothe with his tongue. “Aemond,” you called as he continued to tease you, his tongue licking strips upward to your needing heart but would abruptly stop before inching closer towards the place you need his tongue most. “Yes, wife?” He hummed, and you huffed as you sensed tease in his voice. “Please,” You pleaded in ancient tongue, and there was a long pause before he obliged your request. You breathed heavily as Aemond sucked on your delicate pearl, him humming in delight as he tasted your essence and as well to add to your pleasure.

Your moans accompanied the crackle of the fire as Aemond inserted two of his fingers, him curling the calloused digits and spurring you quickly to your peak. You could not understand how he was so skilled in such endeavors, able to make you quickly come undone even though he confessed himself that before you, he had only laid with a woman once, on the behest of his older brother.

Aemond smirked as he gazed at you laying on the table you two had your meals on, your pretty face that everyone tried to sell as plain still contorted in pleasure that he was the cause of. Aemond brought his fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean, his other hand undoing the laces of his trousers as his cock painfully sought to be inside you. Aemond had always believed himself to be indifferent to the acts of intimacy, but he quickly learned that that sentiment was completely false when it came to you. On the night after your marriage, he had no plan to partake in the marital act, ready to cut his palm and pretend he beaded you so the court would not have a new gossip piece in the morning. However, that plan was quickly forgotten by just the sight of you undressing behind a divider. The candlelight illuminated your form and created a silhouette of your frame undressing and caused Aemond to need greatly. And ever since that night, the pleasures of the flesh he always thought he was indifferent to quickly turned, and he now harbored the same needing patterns he saw in his brother that he used to frown upon.

Aemond locked your lips and assisted you off the table, you had thought he would lead you towards your bed, but you frowned through your kiss as he turned you around in his arms, your back resting against his chest, his pulsating length resting against your still hiked up gown. You feel Aemond’s lips move from your lip to your neck, his cold hands forcing your gown downwards and letting it pool at your feet, leaving you exposed. You whispered as his hands made their way to cup and squeeze your breast. The sensitive buds grew taut at the coldness of touch. You hear Aemond take in a deep breath of your scent, and you let out a bubbling moan as his length is placed in the crevice of your bottom, Aemond letting it glide in between your bum.

You gasped in shock as you felt Aemond push you down onto the table, bending you over the sturdy wood and abruptly entering you without warning. You let out a wry moan as you did not know if you should focus on the pain or pleasure he gave. Aemond bit harshly at his lip as he was incredibly pleasured by the new angle he was taking you in, as well as the sight of you bent over the wooden table. He bundled your dark hair into his hands, feeling the soft silky waves and pulling on it and earning a moan from your lips and caused a further tightening in your cunt. “It would seem that my wife likes to be fucked like a common whore,” He gritted in between thrusts. Aemond knew he pleasured you well, but with this new position, your moans had only grown louder than the past times you had laid. Your cunt grew tighter and more wet, and you were quicker to come undone once more.

“Yes… yes, Aemond! Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” You cried as he pounded at you from behind. Aemond griped the plump flesh of your behind, watching as the skin grew red from his hold; he moved his hands to your waist as he felt the urge of release coming to him as well. Your moans rang louder in his ears, his name slipping from your lips, urging him to come quickly than past nights. He groaned out your name as he spilled his seed deep inside you, hoping that his seed would finally take as he was already zealous with the thought of you swole with his child. Your dazed mind could barely comprehend Aemond assisting you up from your bent position because all your body could focus on was the peak you had reached and his lips against yours once more. You let your husband carry you to bed, him tucking you in his arms like always, and you drifted to sleep wholly satisfied.

Aemond placed his gaze upon you, who was practically bouncing in excitement at your spot next to him. You two stood by the pits as a welcoming party for your kin. Aemond placed great restrain upon himself to not let his animosity show when he spotted your brothers landing your little dragons. “Sister!” He heard the boy who took his eye scream, and Aemond felt you let go of his hand to run to your brother. He did not want to entertain the small pang in his heart as you readily let go of his hold to run and warmly embrace the boy who had maimed him beyond repair, but he knew that with your marriage, whatever fondness and understanding you and Aemond had and will develop will be divided with your love for your true family.

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” You gushed and kissed Lucerys’ cheek; you smiled widely that even though your brother was on the cusp of adolescence, he melted of talc and your mother’s oils. “Your favoritism is showing, sister,” You hear Jacaerys tease, and you sigh in amusement, letting go of Lucerys and moving to embrace your older brother.

Aemond watched you as you greeted your family with such open warmth and love that he and his kin were never accustomed to. Aemond shifted his gaze to your younger brother, who had a wary look in his oak eyes. Aemond bit his cheeks as he stared down the boy who cowardly shifted his gaze and went closer to you, like a little scared pup hiding behind Aemond’s wife.

“Where are Baela and Rheana?” You asked as you let go of your embrace of Jacaerys, looking around the pits. “They went on the ship along with Joffery and the babes. They shall reach by nightfall,” he answered, and you nodded. Your brother’s gaze shifted between you and your husband, who stood by the side, “How… how are you, sister? Is…” He trailed as Aemond challenged his gaze. You gave him a small smile, “I’m fine, Jacaerys, perfectly fine, better now that you are all here.” You said, and Jacaerys hesitantly nodded, not completely believing your sentiments. “Tala,” You hear yourself being called by your stepfather, who stands beside your mother, and you hurriedly go in their direction. “My sweet girl!” Your mother smiled and kissed your cheek as you went to embrace her. “You look more cheery since we left you. Are they treating you well? Or do I have to behead that cunt of a husband that you have?” Daemon asked, and your smile faltered at his words. “Father,” You warned, and you heard him sigh. “They are treating me perfectly well,” You said, and just like Jacaerys, Daemond gave an unconvinced nod.

You turn to Aemond, who still stands idly by the side; you make hastened steps towards your husband as members of your family remove their riding gear. “Do you wish to return to the keep?” You asked, learning he had grown bored and impatient. He turned his body to face you, his brow raised in question. “I could ride with them in the wheelhouse; you can return to your training if you wish,” You smiled. Aemond studied your eyes; he knew that the words you uttered were for his benefit, but he could not help but think it was you driving him away as you would rather spend time with your family than him.

“It is not that I wish for you to leave, but if you would rather return to your training or reading, I would completely understand,” You added, and Aemond froze at your words; it was as if you could read his mind. He did not know how you did it, but you had this ability to know things about him without him even saying them out loud. He was quick to learn that you could see past his hardened exterior and see the intent and thoughts he kept to himself. You were the only person who knew him with such a deep level of understanding. “It is fine. I shall wait for you, and we could ride back together to the keep,” He said, and his cold heart ran warm as you flashed him with your beaming smile.

“What did they do to her?” Jacaerys asked as he stood near his brother and parents. “That last time we were here, she was completely ready to sail off to Essos just to escape him,” he added, and Daemon shook his head, removing himself from the conversation as he, too, was perplexed at how you completely turned your views towards this marriage. “I believe that is what love does,” Rhaenyra sighed, and Daemon scoffed in ridicule from a distance, and Jacaerys quickly shook his head. “Love? You practically had to drag her down the aisle! That is not love… that is some work by a potion slipped into her wine!” Jacaerys disagreed, and your mother breathed out a laugh. “Believe what you want, but your sister is stronger than to let a potion alter her emotions; that affection is brought by love,” She sighed as she, too, was surprised by the outcome of this marriage but was entirely pleased to learn that you found love in a person that all believed had none.

When all of you returned to the castle, your husband went straight to the tiltyard whilst your parents set off to visit your grandsire. You, however, accompanied your brothers as they wanted to tour around the keep that was once their home. Throughout your whole tour, you could not help but grow curious at the curious and prying glances thrown at the three of you that had faded during the moons of your return to the Red Keep. “They keep staring at us,” You hear Lucerys whisper to Jacareys, who still kept his head held high despite being in the den of vipers.

“Ignore them,” You whispered to your younger brother. You smile as Jacaeyrs pulls Lucerys towards the tiltyard, hurriedly going down the steps to explore the place they used to frequent as children. You stood by the railings, your eyes catching the flutter of silver hair, your husband training with his sword along with Ser Criston, whom he battled with. You stood steady by your spot by the balcony that overlooks the tiltyard, leaning in on the railing as you watched Aemond impressively train with his sword. It was truly a wonder to watch Aemond with his sword; he was able to command the room with each swing and movement he did. Captivating everyone as he simulated the battlefield, even your brothers stopped their reminiscing to watch him train. Far was he from the little boy he tripped over his wooden sword and struggled to even keep it upright.

“Well done, my prince, you will be winning tourneys at no time,” You hear Ser Kristen compliment the prince he had molded into a warrior as the tip of Aemond’s sword placed at the knight’s neck. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” You hear your husband reply as you descended down the stairs, making your way to your brothers. “Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked as you paused behind Lucerys and Jacaerys. Aemond’s challenging gaze turned to you, who announced her presence. You stared into his lilac eye and saw it somewhat softened. Aemond clenched his jaw and lowered his sword as the crowd that surrounded him began to dissolve. A clear path leading to you was made, and Aemond crossed it, forgetting about his want to challenge his nephews.

“You were most impressive with your sword,” You complimented lowly as you felt Aemond guide you to the side, and he placed his hand on your lower back. “I am glad that you found that impressive, little wife,” He hummed and wiped his sword, ignoring the stares of your brothers who stood by the side. “Perhaps I should wonder more often to the tiltyard; I would not want to miss an opportunity to watch my husband best the most acclaimed knights of the realm.” You feel your heart flutter as Aemond’s lips twitch into a small smirk. “Perhaps you should,” He said, unable to control the amusement that laced his voice and shinned brightly in his eye.

“Do you believe what Mother says? That they are in love?” Jacaerys whispered to Lucerys, who looked at you smiling upon your husband, “I… I do not know, perhaps,” he whispered as he noted that the smile on your lips was no pretense nor was it forced. And the gleam in your eyes could only be translated into love. Lucerys shifted his gaze back to his brother as you walked off and Aemond returned to training. “But how? How could our sister love someone like him?” Jacaerys asked incredulously, his voice growing a bit louder.

Aemond clenched his jaw as he heard your brother’s words. It was a danger to all that rage was quickly bubbling inside him, and he had a weapon in his hold. The one-eyed prince took in deep breaths to calm himself, reminding himself that you were just by the side waiting and watching him.

But a gnawing feeling in his gut had settled, and he too started to wonder as to how you could ever love someone like him. It is no secret that you and he were raised with opposing views of the world and even clashing families as well. His mother never approved of how your mother had raised you; everything about yours and your brother’s conception and upbringing had brought shame upon the Targaryen name and reputation. And the years before were nothing short of hatred. Yes, the both of you were fond of each other in childhood, but is that enough to undo the following years of animosity and contempt? Will these past moons that were filled with shared understanding and longing be enough to undo the resentment of the past?

It was enough for him. You were enough of a reason for him to let go of the grudges and grievances harbored. By some divine, paradoxical power, your blessed touch was the only touch that could tend and stitch Aemond’s broken past created by your own kin. Even with all the traditions and honor that were desecrated by your mere birth, Aemond could not help but love you, even if he had not said it out loud. No matter your differences, no matter the truth of your illegitimacy, he loved you truly.

However, that overflowing affection he had towards you was for you and you alone. The civility he knew that he should display was slipping out from his hold as old hatred for your brothers was starting to wake, and Aemond was not entirely certain if he could control the burning rage in his veins once more.

You sat next to your husband for a rare family dinner; it was the first time the whole of your clan had been together since your and Aemond’s wedding. You smiled fondly as Baela and Rhaena had already arrived along with your youngest brothers, who were now fast asleep in the nursery. You kept your secret hold on Aemond’s hand as the dinner proceeded, your heart full of joy as you wanted to erase the emotions you were feeling the last time the whole of the family was together with something more pleasant. Gone now was the hatred and agony you felt in your heart as your grandsire ordered your marriage with Aemond. The only thing you now felt for your husband was love. It could be considered ridiculous that with just half a year of marriage, all the deep-rooted anger and ire from the past had completely decimated and turned into blooming love, but that was the truth of it.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table.” The king said “The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.” His final plea for peace was supposed to be yours and Aemond’s marriage, but that seemed to do little for the others to bury the grievances made years before. Your hold on Aemond’s hand tightened as you Grandsire removed his mask and exposed his decaying face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king… But your father.” He said and turned to his children, “Your brother,” the king turned to Daemon. “Your husband,” he said to the queen. “And your grandsire.” He finished turning to you and your siblings. “Who may not, it seems…walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts.” He ended.

You were so entrapped by the speech given by your grandsire that you had not even realized that in the midst of that heartfelt moment, your husband was having a contest of stares amongst your brothers. Not a word by the king affected nor lessened the hatred in their hearts for each other.

You watched and listened intently as toast from both sides of your families started to circulate to the table, obliging the king’s request for civility and the possibility of unification for your house. By the end of the toasts, the intimate feast once more commenced, and your smile only grew with each passing moment of peace. However, it was quickly taken from you as a roasted pig was placed in front of you and Aemond, our gaze flying to your younger brother, who snickered as he recalled the cruel jest they made at Aemond’s expense years before. “Lucerys,” you hissed sharply in warning. Your heart skipped a beat as your husband let go of your hold and slammed his clenched fist on the table, rendering the room silent. “Final tribute,” He announced, the attention of the entire room upon him.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace… Luc… and Joffery,” He began, and you felt your hands grow cold at his words, already knowing where this would lead. “Each of them handsome, wise…” He trailed, catching your eyes that pleaded for him to stop and not speak of offense. He, however, ignored your pleas. “Strong,” He ended, and you feel your heart painfully pit in your chest. Your gaze flew to your lap, and you softly shook your head in disappointment, for you had foolishly believed that your husband would at least grow somewhat sensitive at the matter of you and your brother’s true paternity. “Come. Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys!” He announced, and you felt a painful twist in your stomach.

The peaceful meal between your kin that you had longed for had turned ugly and violent; you shook your head as your husband and his brother, along with your brothers, waltzed back into old patterns and began to brawl and fight each other. You shook your head and stood from your seat, quietly exiting the room and leaving the fight that the other tried to break up. Aemond watched your departing figure, disappointment oozing off your frame as you exited the hall. He turned to your brothers' red and angered faces, and it only dawned upon him the severity of his offense. He was ready to go after you, but his mother pulling on his arm hindered him, the queen scolding her grown son as if he were a boy.

Moments after, Aemond rushed to your chambers in dire need to speak with you, but you were not there. Aemond walked the darkened corridors of the keep, searching every spot you would frequent but to no avail. Aemond halted in his steps as he heard footsteps and voices approaching. “I’ve told you that they were not suited for each other,” Aemond heard your stepfather say, voice enraged. “You saw how openly he disparaged and humiliated her and her siblings— what more if they were behind closed doors?” Daemon seethed, him having half the mind to march to the king and demand an annulment of your marriage with Aemond.

Aemond clenched his fists in anger as he heard how low the opinion of your stepfather had of him, but that anger was being overpowered by guilt as he recalled your pleading face earlier as you quietly begged him not to speak offense. But Aemond could no longer control himself as being in the presence of your brothers brought back the uninhibited rage he genuinely thought he could control for your sake. Aemond took in a deep breath and stomped off, determined to find you. He scoured the entirety of the keep in search of you, with each passing moment that you were not found added to his guilt and the pang in his chest. It was nearing the hour of the wolf, and Aemond still had not found you. Aemond rarely felt fear; he refused to be in fear of anything, but just by just the mere hours of your absence had him drowning in dread and despair.

Aemond thought of retiring back to your chambers and perhaps try to find you when the sun had risen, but his body could not physically rest without your presence. Aemond found him straying towards the gardens, his feet carrying him towards the weirwood tree that you two had often frequented in childhood. He halted in his steps as he heard quiet sobs and sniffling, his knees growing weak at the sight of your body curled upon the trunk of the tree, your face in your hands as you tried to stifle your sobs. Aemond made cautious steps towards you, swallowing thickly as he had never succumbed to such guilt and pain before; it was unbearable to see you cry— more so for he knew that the reason for your tears was him.

Aemond felt his breathing caught in his throat as you lifted your gaze, and your bloodshot eyes met his. “Why?” You managed to ask, your voice hoarse and filled with emotion. It was too much; Aemond wanted to fall to his knees and ask for your forgiveness; he could not take the way you stared up at him with such great sadness. “Why… why would you do such a thing? Why could you not l…” You could not even make yourself finish your words as a bubbling sob of angered sadness took over you. You tightly shut your eyes as Aemond fell on his knees before you, trying to take hold of your hand, but you over away from his touch.

“I know of the resentment you have for my siblings— for me because we are bastards and because Lucerys had taken your eye. It was foolish for me to think that with our marriage, perhaps that enmity in you would lessen or at least be concealed enough that you would not seek out revenge so… so openly and as well as disparage me and my honor,” You say, your voice shaking as you try to take hold of your cries. “I did not mean to offend you; that was not aimed toward you,” Aemond said, and you shook your head. “They are my brothers, Aemond. Questioning their paternity means to question mine as well. Wounding them would be wounding me as well,” You countered and shook your head as Aemond moved to take hold of your hands.

“I… I know it is difficult for you to be subjected to a room with my kin— especially my brothers, but could you not have let this one-night slide past peacefully? I am not seeking out your forgiveness; I was just hoping for something that resembled peace, just for one night,” You said lowly, voice trembling with your sobs and the cool night air that gusted around the gardens. Aemond sighed and rested his head against your clasped hands, still on his knees as you sat before him dejectedly. “I’m… I’m sorry, my love,” He whispered, and you froze, trying to decipher if you had heard him correctly. Never once had you heard him apologize nor use such an endearment.

“I apologize. I was consumed by my anger, and I could not control my rage. I should have kept my composure,” He said and looked up at your face, tear-stained cheeks flushed with sadness, bloodshot eyes in question, and pink lips agape in mystification. “I’m sorry,” Aemond said once more and placed a kiss on your knuckles. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but at the same time, it rolled effortlessly as he knew it would be his saving grace not to lose you. You sat quietly, uncertain what to reply, though you had been enveloped in rage and sorrow, by Aemond’s actions, it somehow miraculously faded by his words and touch.

“You called me ‘love’,” was all you could manage to say, the word still ringing in your ears even though you knew you should focus on the other matter. Aemond scrunched his brows as he gazed at your face, “I… I suppose I did,” He said, not even realizing the word slipped out his lips. He had been wanting to call you that endearment for weeks now, but he thought you would not take it well or that the softness and affection of it would lessen his stoic exterior. “Do you love me?” You could not help but ask, preparing yourself for the blow if it proves that your judgment was false. Aemond’s cold hands turned a degree colder as you asked the question. With each moment of silence, you feel your heart pit further, your mind scolding you for asking such a query. After another moment of prolonged silence, you sighed and were ready to stand, ready to mourn a different type of sadness.

“Of course I do,” Aemond finally spoke, “I love you,” He added, determined for you to believe his words. You were stunned at his confession that words eluded you, and all you could do was pull him close and kiss his lips. “I do not care about your paternity. I don’t think I ever truly did… I only acted as such to appease my mother and her father. And I know I have played the part well, acting as if I harbor loathing for you ever since childhood, but I could never resent you, not truly.” Aemond sighed as your lips parted, and you smiled widely against his lips. Tears of melancholy turned into tears of glee.

“You love me,” You mused as you cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing the raised skin of his scar. “I love you.” Aemond confirmed, and he hummed as you kissed his lips once more. The events at supper were long forgotten as you and he finally shared the affection you both harbored long ago but were just too afraid to say out loud.

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 3 days

Text

It’s your turn (Baby Daddy Au: Husband Miguel sequels)

Baby Daddy Masterlist

First night’s sleep home from the hospital :3

Not proofread.

Word count:300

—

“Mmm… Mig.” You called out I’m a whisper, hand reaching out to find your husband in the darkness. Hearing the mattress creak under him as he stirs awake. “Miguel…”

“Mm?”

“The baby’s crying.” You point out, like your younger daughter's cries couldn’t be heard from the other side of the room. Mind not fully awake as you sat the obvious.

“Mm…” Still half asleep, Miguel’s arm finds its way around your waist and pulls you closer into his chest. Making an annoyed whine leave your throat.

“It’s your turn to put her back to sleep. Get up please.”

“Mkay give me a second…” He mutters, before a silence falls over you both, figuring he probably needs a minute to get himself mentally prepared to get out of bed first. That thought quickly vanished when you began to hear his snoring under the baby’s crying.

“Miguel.” You called out again, slightly more irritated. Your hand removing his arm from you.

“Huh?”

“Miguel O’Hara wake up and put the baby back to sleep.” If it wasn’t so dark in the room, he’d see the light glare you gave him.

“Okay okay, I’m going.” He sighed, the bed creaking as he finally got up and turned on the hello kitty night light that was placed by her crib, the night light used to be Gabriela’s before when she was scared of the dark.

“Don’t take too long, I get cold when you're not in bed.”

“No promises, she’s a cry baby just like her mom.” He remarked playing as he gently picked up your youngest, Bianca. Her crying almost instantly dying down when she felt her fathers touch. Ironic considering his words.

“If you weren’t holding our baby I’d throw a pillow at you.” You said, fighting back the tired smile as you turned to look at the pair.

“Love you too babe.”

—

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho

@yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker

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#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #bd!miguel #baby daddy!miguel #husband miguel sequels #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara blurb #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel ohara spiderman

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souliebird · 3 days

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 20]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

ao3 link

Pain radiates through your body as you begin to regain consciousness. There are two points that are throbbing and parts of you want to slip back down into the darkness until the aches are gone, but the rest of your body doesn’t like that plan.

Slowly, the switches in your mind are flipped to ‘on’ and you become more aware of what is happening around you. There are two people talking near you - a man and a woman whose words you cannot yet process, but the deeper voice sounds so very familiar and comforting. It takes a few moments or hours - you cannot tell - for you to give a name to who is speaking, but when you finally figure it out, your mouth speaks his name.

“Matt…?”

Your name is said, then something is touching your face. Your instinct tells you to pull away, so you try to, but there is a gentle pressure keeping you in place.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just me, sweetheart. It’s just me.”

Forcing your eyes open takes a few tries and you have to blink multiple times to get anything into focus. Slowly, Matt’s face forms in your vision, looking so, so haggard. His hair is fluffed up like he’s been messing with it and he’s got a frown that is so out of place on him. He should be smiling or laughing. That is how you always picture him in your mind - warm and happy.

You realize it is his hand that is cupped along your jaw and press into it, letting your eyes close again. His thumb begins to rub along your cheek and you want to melt into it and allow yourself to drift back into the nothingness where there is no pain. Matt, however, has other ideas.

“I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

You do not want to do that, but since he is asking, your eyes open again. Your brain feels like sludge, but it is your knees that are screaming at you to not move.

You are startled into being more aware of your surroundings when a feminine voice speaks from above you.

“Matt, you need to move if you want me to do anything.”

He seems to hesitate, his face screwing up into something clearly unhappy before he finally pulls away from you. He doesn’t go far, though, stepping only a foot away. Only once your vision isn’t filled with a handsome-exhausted lawyer do you process that you are laying on your couch. You have no idea what is going on, why you are in pain, or how you got to this position, but part of you feels at ease because Matt is there with you.

You trust he won't let things go badly for you.

A beautiful, but tired, woman steps into your view, a pen light ready in her hand. She has an air of authority about her that has you not questioning why she is in your living room.

“My name is Claire, I’m a nurse,” she tells you and you introduce yourself. “You passed out. I'm going to check your eyes and ask you a few questions to make sure you don't have a concussion.”

“Okay.” You don't remember passing out, but it would explain a few things. Your anxiety-people-pleasing mind pushes your confusion down and wanting the examination to be easier for Claire, ask, “Do you want me to sit up?”

“Do you feel like you can?” She counters and you don’t really know the answer, so you try. Your head throbs as you do and your knees are not happy about bending, but you get yourself into sitting. More pieces are added to the puzzle of what is going on, but none of them make any sense.

You couldn’t tell before, but Matt is wearing a dark red jumpsuit that reminds you of Captain America’s armor. There had been a news segment where they had brought out a replica to talk about the design and the function and all you can think is Matt somehow got his own copy and customized it. For whatever reason. You certainly don’t know all of his hobbies - it could be a cosplay thing for all you know - or some kink - or both.

You are in no position to judge.

The other puzzle piece is Karen’s boyfriend, sitting at your kitchen table looking at his phone, with your daughter in his lap. She is splayed against him in her bright pink jammies and her sleep headband, and you can only guess how deep into dreamland she is. But why is she out here, being held by a near-stranger, and not in her bed?

You don’t get to ask that question - Claire is back in front of you with her penlight, shining it directly into your eyes. As she does, she fires questions at you.

What is your name? Birthday?

Where are you and who is the current president?

What is twenty divided by four?

You pass the concussion test and are rewarded with two of the biggest ibuprofens you have ever seen. You take them, chasing them down with water from your sticker-decorated water bottle, as Claire tells you what is what.

“You have a decent sized cut on your forehead. It needed three stitches - and those will dissolve on their own, so you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll give you some of these higher milligram pills for the headache you’ll have, but a good night’s rest will have you up on your feet again. Do you need instructions on how to clean the cut?”

You take in the information at face value, still unsure why you are being examined and cared for in your living room as opposed to a hospital. Everyone else seems so sure of what is happening and completely fine with it, so you simply shake your head.

“Um, no, I know how to take care of it.”

“Perfect,” she turns away and begins to pack up a backpack on the coffee table you did not even notice. “If you start getting nauseous, head to the ER. Now,” she turns to stare down Matt, “If my delicate hands are no longer needed, I’m going back to bed so I am well rested for the job I actually get paid for.”

“Thank you, Claire. I appreciate it,” he says in a soft voice, but there is a layer of gravel in it you aren’t used to.

The nurse finishes her packing, then looks to you with a small smile, “it is nice to finally meet you, I’m sorry it was like this. Late night calls have gone down since he told me about you.”

“Nice to meet you?” You say to her as she leaves your apartment, completely unsure of who you just met and what her connection to Matt is.

As you continue you try to comprehend what is going on, Matt moves towards you. He cups your jaw with both hands, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks, “what were you thinking?”

You frown at not only the rougher tone he is using, but the question, “Matt, I don’t know what is going on. I don’t…”

You trail off and finally mentally address what you have been ignoring.

Your hand creeps up to your face and you feel the edges of the band aid covering up the cut on your forehead. How did you even manage to do that? Claire said you passed out - but how? And why? And why are Matt and Frank here?

Did Minnie call them like she did with Foggy when you were sick?

You don’t know those answers, so you switch to things you can figure out. You search your mind, trying to recall what you were doing before you apparently passed out. You remember cleaning the bathroom, then Minnie coming in and throwing up.

As those memories surface, the rest rush you - you took Mouse to the bodega and on the way home, some man attacked you. You remember struggling and fighting then…then there is nothing.

The fear you felt then tickles back into your throat and you can feel tears starting to form.

“We were attacked,” you breathe out and almost instantly, Matt is pulling you to him, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you as the reality of what happened hits you. You cling back, burying your face into the rough material covering his shoulder, and try to not break down.

You’d been slapped a few times - but no one has ever tried to physically hurt you to that extent before. You had never felt so helpless - so useless - before. You hadn’t been able to protect your daughter.

Hands had been around your throat and in your hair and you had flopped around like a fish.

He could have killed you.

He could have killed Minnie.

Matt gently rocks you as you process what happened to you. You try to not cry, but you can’t stop it when some tears do start to fall.

“Why were you out so late?” he asks into your hair and the guilt pools in your belly. You were so stupid to go out.

“Minnie was sick,” you mumble against Matt’s shoulder. “Her stomach was upset, and we didn’t have Pedialyte. We had to go get some.”

You can feel him frowning into your hair and it just makes you feel that much worse about everything.

“It couldn’t have waited until morning?”

“No.”

It’s not you that responds - it's the man across the room you completely forgot about. You lift up your head to look at Frank, confused why he is speaking up for you. Matt partially turns, pulling you along, and angles his head towards the other man.

“No?” He questions, not sounding pleased at all that someone else is chiming in.

“No,” Frank repeats firmly. “That’s bein’ a parent, Red. Your kid needs something in the middle of the night, you go out and get it. That’s how it is - there ain’t no waiting until morning when they are sick. That’s how they get dehydrated. She didn’t do anything different than any other mother in the city.”

Matt’s lip twitches and you have the feeling he is trying to not scowl or snap. You can tell he is just worried and upset over what happened, but you’d never seen him like this before.

But Frank is right - there was no scenario in which you did not go to get Minnie what she needed when she was sick.

You look to your baby, and you need her in your arms. You pull away from Matt, wiping at your eyes as you do, and make your way to your small dining room. You feel more than see Matt follow you - practically becoming your shadow until you are in front of Frank. Once you stop walking, he is against you again, his chest to your back and his hand on your hip.

Your daughter is dead weight as she is passed to you and you cradle her to your chest, giving her hair a kiss before asking, “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay,” Frank assures, and you feel like he is speaking to both you and Matt. “Probably going to have some nightmares and be clingy, but you’ve got one brave and smart little girl.” You smile a bit at the praise, because you like to think the same thing about Mouse - brave and smart - your perfect little angel.

“Gave her some of that Pedialyte,” he adds, “and she drank it all, so hoping whatever made her sick will be gone.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. You feel like he is a father and that is why Minnie seems comfortable with him, but he has an air about him that makes you not want to ask.

You rock your daughter in your arms, feeling so grateful that she doesn’t have a scratch on her. You have no idea what you would have done if she had been hurt in any way.

You can feel yourself starting to calm - your tears are slowing as you accept and process things and part of you just wants to curl up in bed with your family and sleep for twelve hours.

Unfortunately, that is not in the cards for you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Matt’s head jerk towards the main door, and you can’t help but tense up. His vibe since you have woken up has been on edge and you're surprised he hasn’t snapped or something, yet. He pulls away from you to stalk towards the hallway and you hold Minnie just a bit closer to you, unsure what he could have heard.

He swings the door open and there is a woman with thick jet black hair and bored looking expression. She pushes past Matt without care and enters into your apartment.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”

“What happened?” Matt asks.

“Well, he’s not dead, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon. I even got you a report number, so you can follow up,” the woman says, and you realize they are talking about the man who attacked you. That makes your heart start beating a little harder and your mouth feel dry.

“Did they say where they were taking him?”

You tune out of the conversation and instead focus on holding Minnie. You press your lips to her hair and avert your eyes away from Matt and the woman. You look briefly to Frank, who is back on his phone, then let your eyes wander elsewhere. Minnie’s sippy cup is sitting on the dining table, so you decide you can at least clean that up.

As you move around the table, something else catches your attention.

There’s a large black bullet proof vest sitting on one of the dining chairs, with a distinctive looking skull spray painted on it.

You’ve seen that skull before - it’s a common thing to see spray painted on a wall or post box around Manhattan. It’s a symbol everyone in the city knows just as well as Spider-man’s emblem or Captain America’s shield - it’s the Punisher’s logo.

The Punisher - whose real name is Frank Castle, who, if you recall correctly, looks strikingly similar to the man sitting at your dining table.

For some reason you do not understand, you do not panic. You simply stare at the vest, all the connections flying around in your brain, and mentally go ‘Well, that makes sense.’

The Punisher is here because he was with Matt.

Matt’s dark red jumpsuit isn’t a cosplay or a kink thing - it’s armor.

It’s armor because he is Daredevil - the protector of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt is Daredevil.

Daredevil is Minnie’s Dad.

That’s why he sometimes has bruises and cuts you don’t ask about. That’s why his knuckles are scarred.

That’s why he is in your apartment tonight - Daredevil stops people from being mugged.

You were being mugged and he came and rescued you. He called his Superhero Doctor to come make sure you were okay so you wouldn’t have to go to the hospital and explain how a blind man stopped the attack.

“You okay?”

You look to Frank, and you expect to see blood and guns and mayhem, but all you see is the man who brought you soup. You see Matt’s friend and Karen’s boyfriend - who are two of the kindest people you have ever met in your life. They have treated you better than anyone ever has in your life. They care about you.

You flash back to your very first encounter with Frank and you recall how you were scared of him, but Minnie wasn’t. Minnie - who is unsure about everyone new. You trusted her instincts even before you knew about her gifts - you’d once heard you can tell a person’s intentions by how toddlers and dogs react to them, and you’ve always found it to be true.

So, you decide to trust Minnie as well as your initial reaction - it may possibly be because of a concussion but you would actually like to sit and think about what you just learned rather than react blindly.

“I’m okay,” you say slowly, sticking with how you feel in that exact moment, and not how your night is going. “I think I’m going to go lay her down.” You hesitate, then decide you still need to be a good host, since this is your apartment, ask, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” he says, his lips turning up into a small smile. “Think it’s time for me to head out - leave you and Red to have a talk.”

Your cheeks heat up and you know he knows you have figured out who he is. You hold Minnie even tighter and look down to your feet, your anxiety over being perceived starting to spike.

But you know better than to be rude and Frank has always been kind to you and Mouse.

“Thank you, Frank. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

You do not flee, but you do walk a little faster than normal to carry Minnie to bed. You oh so carefully place her down and tuck her in, making sure Pig is right there with her. Scooby must be out in the living room, and you’ll need to grab him when you finally are able to lay down.

You stare down at your daughter, who is sleeping so peacefully, and let everything wash over you again. You cover your mouth to try to repress a sob, but you know it doesn’t matter - Matt will still hear it.

Everything is changing so much and so fast and you don’t know how to deal with it.

First, you finally find Minnie’s father, then you find out he has super senses and your daughter inherited them, and now you learn he is a superhero.

You don’t know how to even begin to process this development. There is no guide for this and you aren’t even sure how you even feel.

You can’t be angry at Matt - you don’t know how he got into crime fighting, but you know how passionate he is about being a lawyer and helping people. You know he loves Hell’s Kitchen deeply and you can’t imagine having to hear every little crime that goes on.

You don’t know much about Daredevil. You know he sticks to Hell’s Kitchen and he’s made the area safer. He stops muggings and break-ins, and he’s cleared out various gangs. You know the community likes him for the most part - there is actually a mural of him in an alleyway near the diner.

But what does it mean for you and Minnie?

How does Matt being Daredevil work with him being a father? If you look back over the last few weeks, you haven’t really noticed anything off.

But what if he gets into a fight he can’t handle?

Or some bad guy learns who he is and comes after Minnie to get to him? You know that happens to politicians and cops and such, so it would be no different for a vigilante.

What secrets will you need to keep?

Do you need to learn more than basic first aid - like how to stitch someone up?

How will you explain this to Minnie?

Does he know Spider-man? Captain America?

Does he kill?

There are so many questions ping-ponging around in your mind you don’t notice when Matt enters the bedroom.

He comes up behind you and says your name in a soft voice before wrapping his arms around your waist. He holds you to his chest, chin dropping over your shoulder, and to your surprise, you find yourself leaning into his hold.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he tells you and you close your eyes at his words, letting his voice wash over you and corral your thoughts into something quiet. “I had a plan to tell you - to explain everything. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to hide anything from you.”

You believe him.

You wish you would have known sooner, but you also understand why he didn’t tell you. It’s not just something you tell someone, and Matt has proven that his intentions have always been good.

“Am I going to get another binder?” you ask, sniffling a little as you do to stop more tears from coming.

“If you want one, I’ll make you one,” he instantly replies, “just please don’t take Minnie away. I beg of you.”

You can hear the fear and pain in his voice, and you know exactly how he feels. You remember how scared you were that he would take Minnie away.

You turn in his arms - looping yours around his middle and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that. Not unless she is put into danger.”

“I would never.”

Again, you believe him.

His arms tighten around you until you're snuggly pressed into him and you can feel armor and buckles pressing against you. You squeeze him back, needing the comfort and needing something to ground you.

You need to feel safe.

Matt makes you feel safe. He made you feel safe before you knew what he did in the night and now it’s just amplified.

“Did you stop him?” You ask in a whisper. “The man who attacked us?”

“I did,” he responds. “I’ll stop anyone who dares to try to hurt my family.”

You shakily nod against him, then ask the question you fear, “Did…did she see?”

He doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, the guilt is palpable, “No. Frank made sure she didn’t see anything.”

That eases your anxiety a fraction. You will need to talk with Minnie about what happened, and you already fear that conversation. She has never seen anything so violent before and you are surprised she isn’t already having bad dreams. You have no idea how she’s going to react in the morning.

You have no idea how you will react in the morning.

You press your face into the crook of Matt’s neck, where there’s some type of rough black fabric. He begins to rub his hand up and down your back - you don’t think it will be soothing, but you don’t want him to stop.

You want him to stay and hold you.

You want him to keep you safe.

So, you tell him.

“Stay the night,” you mumble against him, and he nods into your hair.

Neither of you move to pull away - you stay holding each other in front of your daughter and you wonder if he needs the comfort as much as you do.

It feels like time crawls by and your knees, which you must have banged up in the attack, start to make it known that you need to stop standing. Matt must sense something, as he nuzzles into your hair and whispers, “We can talk more in the morning. Let's get you to bed.”

You hum in agreement, then slowly bring your arms around to Matt’s front so you can place your hands on his chest, “I need to change. I’ll grab you some sweatpants and a shirt.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

It still takes you a minute to finally step away and when you do, his hands drop from you. As you go to dig for clean sleep clothes, Matt begins to undress. You try to not turn to look - you are curious about how the suit is put together and how he gets in and out. You didn’t see any zippers or other clasps, but you suppose he wouldn’t want those out in the open if he’s fighting someone.

You find two sets of sweats, one large enough for Matt. You hesitate to start changing, but then remind yourself that not only is he blind, but you’ve slept together, so you have no reason to be shy. So, you strip and pull on your new pajamas.

Matt is still working on his boots when you turn back around, so you set his clothes on the bed. You remember then you are missing a member of the sleep squad.

“Do you know where Scooby is?”

To his credit, Matt doesn’t look confused. You wait patiently as he uses his abilities, then smile when he tells you the toy is under the coffee table. You go to fetch him, and finally drop Minnie’s sippy cup in the sink, and when you return, Matt has finished changing.

You hold out Scooby to him with a small smile, “Do you want to tuck him in?”

Matt’s solemn face lights up and he takes the dog. You watch, with a strange lightness coming over your heart, as he places Scooby beside Pig. He places the tenderest of kisses to your daughter’s temple, and you can see him move his lips, but are unsure what he actually says.

You let him have his moment before taking his hand and tugging him towards your bed. He won’t be sleeping on the couch tonight and both of you know it. You lay down first, then he does, stretching out on his back.

“Come here,” he breathes, and you obey. You roll so you can curl into his side, resting your head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. His arm wraps around you and you feel Safe.

Your body and mind feel so heavy as you close your eyes, and you hope you can sleep as peacefully as Minnie.

The two of you lay in silence and when you finally succumb to your exhaustion, as the darkness takes you, you once again hear Matt’s soft voice.

“I love you.”

AN: Its not mentioned bc Reader missed it but it is very important to me that everyone know Jess brought Matt his gloves as well.

Also new header :3C

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

@anehkael

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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multi-fandom-imagine · 23 hours

Text

➤Happy Mother's Day.

↳ Husk || Alastor || Lucifer Morningstar || Adam

•Husk•

"Ah! Shit" gritting his teeth, Husk felt Marylin sink her teeth into one of his ears as Coltrane and Harry watched their father grip the tray of food for you, the man nearly dropping it. "Marylin careful!"

Hearing her father, Marylin snuggled into his fur as he then nodded to his two son's. "Alright, come on you two. Let's go surprise mommy."

Ear's poking up, Henry and Coltrane jumped onto his shoulders. Satisfied, he gripped the tray full of food he cooked for you. Making his way to the bedroom then kicking the door open. The triplet's flew towards you, little chirps leaving their chests as they snuggled into you.

"Happy mother's day beautiful." Husk placed the tray down as he gave your head a kiss.

Biting back a yawn you smiled letting your children snuggle into you. "You didn't have to do this Husk."

Scoffing, Husk sat on the edge of the bed as he rolled his shoulders."nonsense...this day is about you beautiful. Now just tell me what you want and it's granted."

"I just want to spend a day with you all." You smiled taking a bite of the food.

Leaning in, Husk gave you a grin. "Granted."

•Alastor•

"Today is mother's day! So that means it is about your mother girls! Which means we are going to take care of a the little nasty's that hurt and bother your mother." Alastor smiled down at the twins as the little girls smiled up at their father.

"Yes papa!" "Yes papa!"

"Perfect!" Alastor straightened his form as he patted his daughter's head. "Good girls."

Mary and Kathryn rush away from their father know just the person to bother, the very asshole that has been harassing you from the start.

Following after his girls, Alastor wanted to make sure the girls didn't maim the bastard too much. This day was about you after all.

"How was your sleep darlin?" Alastor pulled out a chair to the table for you.

Smiling you gave Alastor a grateful smile. "It was amazing, I really needed it."

"Happy mother's day mama!" The twins rushing over to you. The little girls giving you a hug as they nuzzle their faces into your neck.

•Lucifer Morningstar•

"All most done annnd perfect!" Lucifer stuck out his tongue setting up the decorations for you. He wanted everything to be perfect when you arrived back home with Edna and Charlie.

He wanted this day to be perfect, it has to be perfect since you were the one that gave him a second chance, you gave him Edna, you gave him Damian.

Turning to face his son, the King of hell placed his hands on his hips beaming. "What do ya think."

Squealing, the baby clapped his hands together just happy to be with his father.

Hearing the door open, along with the voices of his girls. The man scooped up his son quickly making his way towards you. "Happy mother's day! How was the girls night out!"

Smiling, you turned to face Lucifer. Edna rushing to her father. "We had lots of fun daddy! But sissy Charlie is taking us out again...but baby brother are coming."

Blinking, Lucifer turned his attention to Charlie in confusion. "What?!"

Shrugging her shoulders, Charlie took her brother from his arms. "I figured you and mom could use the break."

Not getting a chance to reply, Lucifer watched Charlie leave with Edna and Damian. Shaking his head, he wrapped his arms around your waist tugging you in close. "Happy mother's day beautiful."

Retuning the smile, you nuzzled your face into his chest. "Thank you Lucifer."

•Adam•

You should have been expecting this, the man has been doing something like this ever since Celeste was born.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!" Adam shouted at anyone that stepped foot near you. Little Celeste marching in front of her tossing flower petals.

"Ya outta our way! It's mama's special day!" Celeste yelled at anyone that would dare to step a foot near you.

Dropping your shoulders, you gave everyone a weak smile mouthing sorry every now and then. While the two may go over the top each year you were grateful each year.

Adam turning to face you, mask off. Lifting up his little girl into his arms he then tugged you close as he nuzzled his cheek against your own. "Happy mother's day to the sexiest woman in heaven." His voice dipping as he gave you a knowing grin.

"I got somethin planed for us." His voice dipped.

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julesinsummer · 3 days

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I loved your fic about Theo getting upset because the readers' parents said they couldn't go to Italy for the summer. I was wondering if you could do something similar. The reader says she's not allowed to stay with him for the summer, but theo trys to convince readers mom to let them go to Italy, but he finds out that her parents said she could go. And Theo confronts the reader.

I don't know. I thought it could be a cute angst/fluff fic I've never requested before, but I love your writing, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Thanks:)

Little Lies (Theodore Nott x Reader)

angst&fluff, happy ending | requested!

"Theo, they said no, I really can't argue with that," y/n sighed as she closed the book she was reading.

Theo groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Let me talk to them, then," he tried, "they love me! They'll listen to me, won't they?"

Panic surged through y/n's body at the mention of Theo talking to her parents. "It'll just make them mad at me! It's just not happening, I'm sorry my love."

The truth lay beneath her panic-stricken words: she hadn't even asked her parents. Truth be told, they'd say yes immediately if she had asked. It was no secret that y/n's parents adored Theo and would do anything if it meant that the two would stay together long enough to breach the topic of marriage.

y/n hadn't mentioned going to Italy for the summer with Theodore for one simple reason: Theodore Nott Sr.

Nott Sr. was an imposing man with strict ideals and rules and little to no morality. He scared everyone that he came in contact with, especially his only son and heir's girlfriend. He was often controlling and angry, with yelling and cursing being his most used vocabulary. Theo loved to hate his father and hated to love him, but by way of only having a father his teenage life, he'd come to respect him for what he could do.

y/n was not so lucky. She was a stranger to the violence that unfolded in Nott Manor, to the hurt that a father could cause his only son. It was impossible to watch when Theo would appear perfectly groomed and poised, all the while hiding the bruises and scars that lay just below his collar. It broke y/n's heart to pieces, and she refused to house herself under that roof for an entire summer's break.

But she couldn't tell Theo that. Perfect, poised, handsome, loving Theo who only wanted her, his source of comfort, to be with him in a picturesque setting.

So instead, she lied. And as everyone says, lies cannot be kept forever.

y/n's parents had invited Theo for dinner the next night at their manor, reveling in the laughter that ensued from his witty jokes and ignoring his blatant hand on their daughter's thigh.

"I did want to ask you something, Mr. l/n," Theo said softly as dinner winded down. A sick feeling invaded y/n's stomach, with its only visible traces being the red color that latched itself onto her neck.

The older man nodded, "Anything, my boy. What is it?"

Theo shot Mr. l/n a smile, one that he'd learned almost exclusively from the business dealings of his father. "My father and I would be overjoyed if y/n could join us this summer at our home in Italy. It's in Rome, near the city center. He wanted me to extend the invitation to her. Would that be alright?"

Time seemed to slow to a grinding halt. y/n was sweating, her hands shaking as she clasped her glass and avoided the eyes of her parents.

"Of course, of course!" Mrs. l/n replied for her husband, grinning widely at Theo. "I'm sure she'd love to as well, wouldn't you dear? And that just means that we can have a child-free summer of our own!"

Theo's eyes dropped onto y/n with such sadness and frustration that it made her skin crawl. She saw the disappointment under his features, trying desperately to escape his gaze. She only managed a nod.

With a few more pleasantries, dinner concluded and y/n and Theo were free to escape to her bedroom. Once the door had closed, Theo scoffed loudly.

"What was that all about?" he asked angrily, his face turning a pinker hue than normal. He was angry, that much was clear.

"I... I'm sorry," y/n managed, dropping her head low. She fidgeted with the rings on her hand, half of which Theo had gifted her.

Theo scoffed again. "You're sorry? I didn't ask for an apology, I asked for an explanation! You told me they said no!"

y/n sighed loudly, dropping to sit on her bed with her head in her hands. "I never asked," she admitted softly.

"You never asked?" Theo had begun to yell, quickly casting a muffliato charm on the room. "y/n, I asked you about this months ago and you said they told you no! Why did you lie to me?"

"I had a good reason, Theo! Okay?" y/n shouted back, tears springing from her eyes. She and Theo never argued, but when they did, it was awful and hurtful.

"Oh good, I'd love to hear what a good fucking reason you have for making me look like an idiot with your parents! Or for lying straight to my face for months!" He was screaming now, fisting at his hair and coming closer to y/n.

She flinched a little at the action, staring up at Theo intensely. "You'll just get mad at me again if I tell you, so what's the point? I'll go, okay! I'll spend the whole summer with you and your asshole father and be uncomfortable for months!"

Theo paused at that, the room going deathly silent. "Uncomfortable? You're uncomfortable spending your summer with your boyfriend who has told you so many times that he wants to fucking marry you? What, are you going to be so uncomfortable at the thought of spending time with me that you'll tell me no?" His tone got angrier with every word.

"I'm not uncomfortable because of you, you asshole!" y/n shouted, standing up suddenly. She and Theo were close and the anger radiating off of them was palpable. "I'm uncomfortable because your dad is a fucking sadist and wants everyone around him to hurt! I don't want to watch you get beaten for existing for months, Teddy! I can't do that! And if you don't understand that or if you don't think it's a good reason to say no, then I don't know what planet you live on."

They were close, close enough to make one wrong move and end up completely engulfed with one another. Theo was the first to speak.

"And you couldn't have told me that in the first place instead of lying to my face, y/n/n?" he asked softly, his anger dissipating by the second. "You don't think you can talk to me about that?"

y/n let the tears fall freely down her cheeks. "You wouldn't have listened to me, just like you're not listening now! I'm sorry I lied to you, honey, I am. But you never listen when I tell you that I hate your father."

Theo stayed silent for a while, his eyes indicating that he was lost inside his own head. He finally moved after what seemed like an eternity, wiping the tears off of y/n's cheeks with a soft brush of his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, amore mio," he apologized softly, moving his hands to tangle in her hair. "I... I didn't think about it."

y/n sobbed a little, nuzzling into his touch. "You never do."

Theo nodded sadly, resting his forehead on hers. "You don't have to come," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "I should've thought of you first."

y/n shook her head slightly, sniffling. "I just don't want to see you hurt or getting hurt or anything but happy. He makes you miserable."

"I'll figure it out," Theo replied softly, kissing y/n's head. "I'll figure it out."

"He sucks, you know that?" y/n asked with a small, humorless laugh. "If he wasn't there, I'd go. If he wasn't involved, I'd go anywhere you asked me to."

Theo nodded, looking into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered, meeting their lips into a passionate, emotional kiss. "I'll figure it out, I promise. I'm sorry for yelling at you."

y/n pulled him into a tight embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's okay. I shouldn't have lied to you."

"If I can convince him to not go... would you come?" Theo asked, hugging her tighter. "I can figure it out."

y/n nodded, pulling back just enough to see his face. He had that determined look that he sported on occasion, like when he played quidditch, or when he was working on an assignment. "I'd go anywhere with you and only you."

Theo nodded silently, kissing y/n again, this time as a promise. "It'll be done. And no more little lies."

"No more little lies," y/n agreed, pulling them both down on her bed.

i hope you liked it!! as always, requests are open!

#theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine

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feltit-wroteit · 3 days

Text

The Nanny Diaries

Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader x Tashi Duncan/Donaldson

The nanny contract you had signed had never mentioned you falling in love with the parents of the child nor them reciprocating the feeling. But, here you were...

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her 20s), nanny!reader, hurt/comfort, poly!relationship, body guard doing his job "badly", intrusive fans

*Yes the title is inspired by a movie♡*

"Lily... Lily, wake up sunshine." You played gently in her hair and whispered ever so slightly in order for her to not wake up in a bad mood. Today was a big day. You were finally going to bring Lily watch her father's match. Something that you had always waited for. Tashi was also excited but was too worried about Art actually performing to get over the moon about it. Art was more than excited to show his little girl how good he could play. It was a motivation that was needed for him.

You had seen him play once or twice before becoming the nanny to his child. That's how you had met them both. Somehow, hanging out in a place full of rich married couples could lend you a well paid job... You had accepted their offer and were now travelling all around the country with the couple and their amazing daughter Lily. She was a sweetheart and loved you to death. While taking care of her, you had fallen in love with her parents. Let's admit it, they were so kind to you and extremely attractive.

Nothing had prepared you for that one night where you were leaving for a week to go see your family for Christmas.

They had let you have a week off and you were packing your things in the bedroom that was reserved to you in their mansion. Suddenly, they both came in without knocking. "Y/n?" You turned around slightly surprised that they were both in your room and smiled at them. "You scared me." You giggled. They smiled and motioned for you to sit down. "Have a seat." You were confused. Why did they want to talk to you right now? "Is something wrong? Did Lily wake up? I can go put her back to sleep if you both want..." They got closer to your bed on which you were sitting and shook their head no at the same time. They were so captivating.

"No... We wanted to ask you something. But, we don't want it to change anything about this nanny contract. Lily values you too much for that." Tashi said while holding Art's hand. "Of course, ask me anything. Did I do something wrong?" You asked them, starting to worry. "No. God, everything except that, Y/n!" Art exclaimed. You looked in his eyes and was reassured by his sincere gaze.

"Do you know what polyamory is?" Tashi asked you and sat down to your right. Your eyes grew wider. "Yeah..." you felt exposed somehow. What were they thinking? "Do you like us Y/n?" Art then asked while sitting to your left. You nodded shyly. "Use your words, sweetie." Tashi said and gently rubbed your thigh. "Yeah." "Both of us? You like both of us the same?" Art started to rub your left thigh and it was all overwhelming. You got up and away from them. "Yes and I'm sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me. You two are married it's wrong of me. I'll be more subtle I swear! Just... please don't fire me. I need this job." They were now looking at you attentively while you shed some tears. "Baby... don't appologize. We're not mad, we just wanted to make sure. Because, we like you too..." Art admitted and got up closer to you to offer you comfort.

"What?" You were now very much confused and mixed up. "Y/n, we took some time to talk and we came to the realization that we want to try something out with you. We would be happy to add a beautiful and amazing woman to our relationship. If you want to try it out that is?" Tashi elaborated and you once again nodded to which the couple laughed softly. "Uh, yeah my words... sorry. Of course I would. Are you sure? When will we start? Does something like this even start?-" You were rambling again until Art put his hand on your right forearm. "When you come back from your Christmas break, we would love to take you on a date. Would you want that, sweetie?" Tashi offered and you smiled brightly. "I would love that." You aknowledged and they both wrapped you in their arms at the same time. "It's a date then." Art pointed out and kissed your cheek. You blushed and hummed yes.

The rest was history.

You had started dating them 1 year ago but it was all a secret to the media. People wouldn't understand and you were not pressed for them to do so. You were happy being their lover and being apart of this incredible family officially.

Lily had finally woken up and smiled at you. "Y/n/n?" Lily knew you were dating her parents. When she learned it five months after you started dating, she wrapped you in her arms and said thank you to her parents which made the three of you tear up. "Yes, Lil?" You took her in your arms and brought her to the bathroom to start the day. "Is dad going to win?" She asked you with worried little eyebrows while you made her sat on the sink counter. "I don't know, Lily. It never is a sure game. Especially the final match." She frowned while you handed her her toothbrush and motioned for her to brush her teeth. "But... I personnaly think he will beat the other guy. But don't say to anyone I said that. Okay?" You whispered and she finally smiled. She nodded excitedly and put her little hand on her heart. "Pinky swear?" You asked her while extending your pinky to her. She lifted hers up and you crossed them together.

When she was done in the bathroom, you helped her get dressed and got dressed yourself. Tashi had bought Lily a cute little, white tennis dress from Tommy Hilfiger that matched hers. You were wearing a pair of beige trousers, a white blouse and some loafers from Tommy too that you had picked up in the store with the help of your two partners. You took Lily's hand and left the hotel to drive up to the tournament.

When you both arrived there, there was no place to walk, litterally. Everybody was screaming and fighting their way to maybe have an autograph of the players. You took Lily in your arms and held her closely to make sure she didn't get hurt. "Y/n/n?" The girl asked for you in a tiny voice. "Yes, Lil?" You rubbed her back with your hand and tried to push through the crowd to get where the security was. "I'm scared..." Lily announced, which broke you're heart. "It's okay sweetie. I've got you, I promise. We're almost there."

When you got to the security you realized that you had forgotten your VIP pass and cursed to yourself making sure Lily didn't hear you. "Hey, I'm sorry?" You said to a guard that had his back facing you. He turned around and looked at you unimpressed. "Hi, sorry. I am VIP but I forgot my pass. Do you maybe have a list with names? I'm on there, I swear." You tried to explain but he was unfazed. "No pass, no entry." He went to turn around but you pleaded. "Please, I am with a child here..." "And what does that do? We've had this a lot. Please just wait like everyone else and don't make me use force." He answered and you groaned after Lily sobbed harder as the fans shouted more. "I'm begging of you, this child is about to have a panic attack. You do not want Art Donaldson and Tashi Donaldson's daughter having a panic attack because of you, trust me."

The guard looked you up and down and sighed. "Call them." He told you coldly. "What?" You asked bewildered. "If they asnwer, then they can prove that they know you. Otherwise..." He tsked at you and you pulled out your phone with difficulty having Lily in your arms. The phone rang and rang and Tashi didn't pick up. Fuck... "You can wait like the rest." Th bodyguard turned around after seeing your exposed face. "No wait-" You were about to make another compromise when you realised it was no use. He wasn't going to listen to you anymore.

That's when you heard it. A fan... "Omg look! That's the Donaldson's daughter!" The girl shreaked and pointed towards Lily in your arms. Then, a plethora of fans made their way towards you two and you held Lily closer. "Can we get a picture?" One boy asked to which you shook your head. "No, I'm sorry but that's a no." The fan's face changed quickly and he frowned. "Who even are you?" He asked and a lot of fans around agreed to his question and you knew it would turn bad.

"Please, I'm her Nanny... She is very anxious right now, it's not the time to cause a scene." You tried to reason with them only for a girl to scream from your left. Lily' sobs were louder and you rubbed her back soothingly trying to keep yourself calm too. "She's kidnapping the Donaldson's daughter! Stop her!" Your eyes blew wide as they all approached you dangerously with death glares.

"Y/n?" A tiny voice whispered afraid in your ears and a tear fell down your face. "I'm so sorry, Lily" While they got closer, you closed your eyes and kept Lily close in your arms.

"Get the fuck away from them!" You heard a familiar voice thunder from behind you. You didn't dare open your eyes afraid you had been dreaming it. You heard footsteps gather away from you and you finally opened your eyes. The fans had gotten away and were looking behind you with scared eyes. You turned around and were met with two sets of eyes. Art and Tashi. You had been right. It had been Tashi ordering them away. They saw your tear streaked face and hurried closer to you.

When Tashi had returned your call from earlier only for it to go to voicemail, she decided that she would come find you. Art had tagged along since his match was only in an hour.

"Y/n?" Art called you while looking at you worried. "Come on let's go..." He whispered when he put his hand on your back. Tashi got closer too and analysed you and her daughter. "Take Lily from my arms, please..." Your voice sounded weak to them and they looked at you turn by turn. Art had a worried expression on his face and Tashi looked more angry. Art took Lily in his left arm and put his right hand on the small of your back from your left. Tashi pur her left hand on top of his and guided you towards the same guard line as before. "Did you try to get through?" She softened her tone for you. You nodded and sighed. "But I forgot my pass at the hotel. I'm so sorry. It's my fault and-" You were explaining when she rubbed your back to reassure you. "Did you try to explain to a guard your situation?" You nodded once more and her jaw ticked. "Okay... let's get you two safe for now." Art proposed when he saw how pissed his wife was.

He lead you four to his locker room and as soon as you were behind closed doors, you broke down in full tears from it all. Art sat down with Lily in his arms that was now asleep from exhaustion from crying so much and Tashi was comforting you. "I'm sorry. I thought I could keep her safe. She could've been hurt." You hiccuped while looking at Lily and sobbing harder. "But she didn't because of you sweetie." Art said and locked eyes with you. You could sense he was getting mad. He had every right to be. Who would forget such an important thing like a pass? "Don't do this. Don't stay in your head... Talk to us?" Tashi asked of you when she started to notice you overthinking. "I know you're both mad at me. I would be too! I put Lily in danger-" Art cut you off at that. "Wow, wow, wow... we're not mad at you!" He was quick to explain.

You now had a confused look and Tashi kissed your lips quickly. "You thought we were mad at you, baby?" You nodded and she giggled to lighten the mood. "Oh god no! We're mad at the stupid guard and crazy fans. Come here!" She opened her arms and you sighed in relief. "Okay now, let's all relax a little before my match and then we can head to the field and have a great time. Yeah?" Art said while rubbing Lily's back and smiling at the two of you. You nodded and sat down with Tashi in front of him. She held you closely while you steadied your breathing.

The match had went well. Lily had woken up and was smiling from ear to ear while her dad made points. It was funny seeing her little frown, looking like her mom's, when the other player made his points. In the end, Art had won and you three cheered from the sideline while he was taking his winning pictures.

That night, at the hotel, Tashi put Lily to bed while you were cuddling with Art in yours. He was peppering mindless kisses all across your forehead and whispering sweet nothings. "I love you, Y/n/n. You know that we love you right? Today I got scared. I was mad, not because of you, but because I didn't know how to help you see that it wasn't your fault. I could never be mad at you, sweetie." He explained while locking his gaze with yours. "I know... I love you more though." You tried to admit while Tashi entered the room in her black babydoll. "Now, what has you lying like that?" She smiled mischeviously at you and got on the bed behind you.

This had always been how you all slept. You in the middle, Art to your left and Tashi to your right. Of course, sometimes that arrangement changed... But primarily, that was the one. "I'm not lying." You said with a smile yourself while getting on your knees to face them easily on the bed. "No... I think you're a little liar." Art said while sitting up and putting his hand on your right knee. He looked at you with desire and your mouth opened slightly. "Don't you think so too, Babe?" He asked Tashi who was also sitting up now and held your left knee. "Oh I think she is..."

Art got closer to your face and kissed your lips harshly. He held the back of your neck with his free hand and Tashi caressed your upper left leg while looking at the both of you. "We don't like liars..." She whispered in your ear and you shivered.

What had you done?

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