#did she feel it the moment he was born? when he first opened his eyes? when he took his first steps? when he spoke his first words?

[cutieeva]

Forget-me-not

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

Female reader

Warnings : Violence. Murders. Mention of rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

His mind does not recalls well, or should he say not at all hence he is bearing hard time figuring who this woman is, poking and prodding, leaving subtle impressions on his daily routine, altered his dishes only to gain his attention however never did he thought the answer lay hidden in the very faculty that failed him— his memory.

A odd curious question slit in her mind. How does it feel to be inside a demon's stomach alive ? Odd, she knows that even to bear such thought in her mind is strange itself. However none could blame—no actually many could blame her that she should scream, plead, cry or at least have flashes of joyful times at her last moment.

However how can she ? When life had all the once colorful joy into colorless and bitter, even at the slightest thought of her parents does not fail to earn to scowl. She wonder at the early sunrise tomorrow when they will be present with her lifeless body or unfortunate enough news of her missing would they shed tears ? Even acknowledge her as a being that were once their daughter ? Born from their bond and flesh and blood ?

Hopefully they feel every single pain and misery she lives on with every day until this monster stood in front of her, blood dripping from her mouth and hunger in her eyes shone. And rather fighting, she close her eyes and welcome the sorrowful death at the tender age of twenty-two. How pitiful, despite wanting to cry, tears were dry and fear left numb behind.

A animalistic growl come from the monster and her running, jumping on her is all sensed until she could not. Not anymore only the cool breeze of spring night caress her along the sound the wind crafts. Her eyes flutter open by sensing presence of someone else and an pair of numb mirroring hers, turquoise eyes met.

A man. Who holds the sliver sword taint by the monster's blood, her sight follows the drop of crimson on the ground where the demon's behead rest, it seem pause in time, the eyes wide open, mouth agap. Oh how she envy's that creatures pause of time—not death. Merely because she welcomes it does not equal to her wants.

"Are you well ?" (E/C) eyes stare up, startle by his standing few steps apart, his feets were silence or either she was too lost in thoughts to hear.

"Are you well ?" Her mind thought of the question again, when was the last time did someone ask her ? Of her well-being ?

"No". The honesty pass on it's own.

"Oh". His expression unchange, now at the moonlight illuminating his appearance and her vision sober, he looks quite dead. From inside as if his soul had died with someone else long time ago than his own mind could recall. He reminds her of her own death of soul when her hand was given to a unknown man in name of marriage when in disguise it was a trade.

She wait for him to say however he did not, staring not quite at her rather at nothing. Like he was lost and she rip her lips open that stick together due to the cold air. "Thank you for saving me".

He nods and walk away.

That was her first meeting the soul less man.

☯

Stench of blood surround her and blood shatter everywhere the inn, painting the grey walls of inn crimson, how cruel. Two demons clashing the soul less man who is her savior, his sword far crimson from piercing their skines that regrow like a lizard's tail, only faster. The other people in chaos, running to be safe and some running to save their precious.

One man even push her to the ground in haste yet she can not help watch the sword man fight despite sweat dripping from his body, demons bruising his pale skin, no sense of pain or panic in his face, only strangled voice and groans. He looks uncaring, almost in trance of blood thirst that he does not care if he die in process.

THUD ! Scream screech from others as the pair of demons head cut from their body at the same time. And when it did, her eyes wide watching in slow motion how it fell pausing and imprinting their last expression for eternal. The green eyed monster feast on her heart again she brush off, sight follow the man huffing and falling on his knees to the ground. She notice. His entirety trembling yet tightly gripping the sword and eyes on the floor.

She stand up, dusting the dirt from her plain kimono and walk towards him, bending to his visage and palm slip inside her cloth to attend the cream she keeps always for her own pains because no one else cares and her hand about to touch his face.

Sharp edge of blade an inch away from slicing her skin of wrist he wield. She swallow and look at his blank turquoise eyes staring into hers. "Fear not, for I do not intend to inflict harm. I am here to amend you". His gaze fell to the medicine and at her again. "Consider it a token of gratitude, a debt for saving me".

His dull eyes soften. "I saved you ? Who are you ?" (Y/N) tilts her head.

"Have I faded so readily from your memory, when but seven days ago our paths converged ?" The information dawn in his mind.

"Oh". She tend to him as she could. That was her second meeting, unaware they will meet again.

☯

"Hello again". (Y/N) greet him, welcoming to the noodle shop she has taken work at after the inn was destroyed and the sword man stare at her.

"Do I know you ?" His question earn a uncertain smile out of her and she shake her head.

"You do not". Then she question his want to fill his stomach to which he answer and she was lost in thoughts, learnt one thing about him is that he forgets easily.

"(Y/N) ! Order from table 12". Hastily she hold the edge of table of noodle soup and stand before his table, serving the bowl of noodle in one hand that it tremble, slipping a little burning soup above her hand escaping a low wince however she smile presenting on the table and about to leave.

"Wait". The man called, brushing soothing white cloth to her injured hand. She unconsciously recoiled and the man pause. Oh, she realize and took the cloth on her another hand. "Beware of excessive heat". She gaze at him for his words and nod realizing not everyone bears ill intention, drowning herself into the work, feeling his heat of gaze on her yet not once did she return it.

☯

"Welcome". (Y/N) greet again after seven days or two, she stopped counting and eyes stare at the sword man, not alone as she thought rather with people mirroring his weapons and uniforms she found odd however not voice it.

Her fellow worker return with their orders and she deliver it to their table, ignoring that man's certain gaze and proceed to others.

"You woman !" (Y/N) flinch at the angry voice of a man.

"Yes, sir". Calmly she answer only for his face twist more in rage and he throw the dish on the ground, earning whispers and grasp from other tables.

"What utter rubbish are you serving me, when I am paying such an exorbitant sum ? Huh ? You useless woman". He click his tongue. "That's why women should stay inside the home, warming bed for men". (Y/N) avert her gaze at the last sentence and thought why venting at her when none fault lies on her. She is neither the owner or cook.

"I will call the owner". Saying she about to step however his harsh touch pull her wrist, twisting a little. She hiss and the man about to comment when a sword put on his neck.

"Asshole kindly, behave yourself and let her hand go". A man with scar across his face and white hair glare at him causing the man to retreat his hand and for some reason her eyes went behind the unfamiliar man to the soul less man who in peace continue eat his dish.

"Thank you". Out of gratitude she bow to the white hair man who, he hum in respond before sitting to finish his dish and she continue to her work, hand touching the little red wrist sometimes.

When the people along the soul less man are paying, his turn, he stare at her for a second and utter. "Beware of men". Before she could a response he left.

That kindness. That warning. It's been a long time she hears and she could not help however smile and tilt her head. Did he remember her ?

☯

That answer was never met however it will answer if he recalls her at their fourth meeting at the same noodle shop. Her, as a worker and him, as a customer.

This time when she went to ask to his order, he again did not spared a glance and she knew, he does not recall her and smoothly in between the work he slip her mind that she did not even thought once. "Please, side". Mind troubled with ingredients she needs to buy that walking to the door, she did not look around, brushing against a stranger and twisting her ankle in process and about to fall down, in instinct her fingers grip the man that caught her around her waist.

Grasping in realization and heart racing, she halt. "Are you well ?" Her (E/C) eyes narrow. That question and that haunting voice. Lifting, she saw indeed that man, so close their faces inch apart.

"No". For some reason only honesty flee from her and she stand up. "Oh ! Thank you. And I am sorry, I shall take my leave—". Want to leave, her sentence cut off with pain at the ankle and eyes watery.

"Are you well ?" He question again and when she could not answer, his lips thin and hold her waist surprising her and carry her for few moments to sit her on a wooden chair. "Shinobu-san, I beg of you, spare but a moment of your attention." (Y/N) watched a beautiful woman wore similar uniform like him however butterfly hairpin behind her head.

She tune out their conversation only staring at the man, why is he so concerned about her ? Is it because he believes the mistake is his fault ? despite he forgets her. So, he is kind to all. The woman gave her some pills for her pain and she watch them leave, oddly thinking when they will return again ? Despite their visit frequent, it's always on long terms gap.

"Oh ! Did the Butterfly Demon Slayer bestow something upon you?" Her colleague ask, eyes peering curious on the pill (Y/N) swallowed.

"They are all demon slayers ?" The woman nod. Demon slayer ? So, the creatures she encounter was demons and her savior reveal to be not merely a sword man rather a slayer of such creatures that hold power to destroy him. He taken oath to death itself, no wonder he looked so uncare.

Deep inside in her, something wish for him to return alive.

And it was granted clearly when he returned again, as soul less and blank. A relieve feel her she could not find word to describe. Yes, those moments she share were meaningless and nothing yet the gestures and questions to her were something.

Finally a urge dawn at her that she wishes to be remembered by him. She does not if it is a impulse or a passing thought, she listened, along uttering their order to the chef.

"Four extra eggs". She added on his plate, easier for him to notice and when she delivery them.

He look down at his plate, furrowing. "I do not recall ordering any eggs ?" Those turquoise eyes look at her and a sense of familiarity fill him however not enough to fill her name or who she even mean to him.

A smile bloom on her lips. "Consider it a token of gratitude". She turn her heels to leave.

"Of what ?" It came eager for some reason and she look at him.

"For....". She tail off. "Just". And walk away leaving him in the dark. Muichiro stay at that position, unable to take his eyes off her before eating his food.

☯

"Cold noodles". She said his order, glancing at him and continue. "Five eggs". Finished for the cook to hand her and she deliver the dish.

Muichiro Furrow. "I do not recall ordering any eggs ?" The way those words roll down his tongue felt familiar yet he ask.

"Consider it a token of gratitude". The unknown woman smile enigmatically, leaving him in the dark.

"For what ?" Remain unspoken.

Eventually he turn to enjoy the dish. Despite the eggs he did not order, the taste was further delicious.

☯

"Omurice—". (Y/N) add. "And Katsu". Like a game it turn to her and happily she present to him, watching the uncaring face, wrinkle in confusion.

"I do not recall ordering a Katsu". He stare at him, that sense of familiar come back like he had said it few times, even the glint in her eyes speak of something he is foreign to.

"Consider it a token of gratitude". His ears ring like he had known these words very much, his eyes stay at her back, noticing a hint of smile and his eyes only darken.

"It would be wise to seek an explanation from her, at a more opportune moment, regarding the motivations behind her repeated actions." His fellow demon slayer, Tanjiro advise. Yet what caught his attention.

"Repeated ?" Tanjiro nod.

"She has been doing this for quite sometimes". Usually that answer is enough for Muichiro to forget and lean at his work however something pull him towards her thus he finds himself compelled to wait for her. The dawn set for the night to spread blanket of stars in dark and that woman to come outside, eyes meeting the demon slayer waiting.

Her breath hitch, surprise greet her in form of him. "Who are you ?" He ask. "Why do you persist in subjecting me to this meaningless thing time and time again?" Excitement bubble in her stomach.

"You remember ?" Her smile almost to spread when he frown at the question to which she feel her heart clench. Does he not ? Then ?

"I have been informed by another that this is not the first instance of your actions towards me." Her hope dim a little. He notice it.

"What is it that you desire of me?" (Y/N) sigh and about to explain however, her gaze drifted toward the nearby empty road, where a distressing spectacle unfolded, A married couple, their countenances twisted in discord, caught her attention. The man, his face reddened with rage, grasped the woman's arm, dragging her along as he shouted vociferously. The woman, her eyes flashing with defiance, pushed against his chest, struggling to break free.

The louder the man roar, the further (Y/N) flinch, tuning out the demon repeat question.

"Miss, yo—". His turquoise eyes caught at her clearly distress visage as her nails peeling off her skin and his words left unspoken, watching the woman scratching her skin.

Harder. Harder. Harder.

Just as her tender flesh trembled on the cusp of yielding to her inner turmoil, his wrist, moved on it's own, encircled hers. "What has possessed you for peeling your skin off ?" His tone harsh and (Y/N)'s mind snap. Reeling mind bring in the present.

"Right. He is not here". Her quivering pupils boring into her and his question repeat in her mind.

Why ? Why ? Why ? Why does she so desperately wants him to remember her ? What is he to her apart from a kind man ?

"Because I want you remember me". Muichiro believes this her answer to his previous question. "I want you to know me".

"Why ?" His whisper louder in the silence. Even overshadowing the fight.

"I do not know myself". He appear dissatisfied. "Perhaps because of your kind question of are you well, or perhaps the hope that someone might recall me, might ask after me, might truly know me." The haunting cries of the nearby woman, mingling with the man's gruff protests, pierced the air and her thoughts. "I want someone to care about me. Even if it's out of pure goodness or meaningless in passing, I still want someone to ask me my well-being. My happiness. My desires". Their voices straining and her mind aching.

"I simply want someone to cry about me !" Her desperation bewildered Muichiro as she grip his hand and tears spilling along the woman's "I wish someone to know if I ever die and care that I went missing at the least. And you awoke the hope of knowing me. I really really really yearn someone to care about me". Her sobs swelled, as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder, releasing a cascade of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Why me ?" He question. Why choose a man who has no recall of his own origin and reason of hatred towards demons and forgets her.

(Y/N) sniff, loosening her grip on his hand and lift her head, staring at him. "It is solely due to your gentle inquiry". He stare at the sorrowful eyes, red rim on the edge. "An inquiry you have repeatedly posed to me, despite your own memory's frailty."

"Are you well ?" She nod. "What do you answer then ?"

"No". His finger on it's own wipe her tears and she close her eyes on the touch.

"What do I response ?" It's strange, how this woman crafting him to question of his own self he can not recognize.

"You simply walk away". Thus, she desire for him to ask—

"Why ?" Her eyes sparkle, so beautifully he almost fell under her spell.

"Because my life is no more mine. However someone else's and I desperately wish someone to see how in pain and unjustice it has been. Running and stealing my own life". Spilling the bottled words. "I am not well, I am rather far from it and I want to say that". She finished. She does not wish to lie, or plaster a smile painting the truth invisible.

Muichiro nod, listening with his heart to this unknown woman and his heart clench at unhappiness how one could be so cruel. He really wants to cut the heads of bringing misery to the same  people the demon slayer corps pouring their blood and sweat to protect by signing their lives away.

They deserve no life.

"Thank you for listening". Her whisper brought him back and his eyes glance at the direction of hers is, the street are empty now.

"You are welcome".

☯

His stomach was not empty rather full and his hands are tied by work however his feet walk towards the noodle shop they usually goes, informed by his confidants and the reason lies on the face he can not erase from his memory no matter what. Not from training, sleep or any other plans. Her nightingale voice lure him here and heart brimming to see her thus he listen.

Standing in the shop with none sight of her.

While (Y/N) rest in the pond, hands splashing the cold water happily from the off duty and listening to the chirp of bird when crunches of shoes turn her head.

Never did she expect the demon slayer to be here. Staring at him. "Did he forget—".

"If you are wondering. I have not thus I find myself here. Wishing to see you". A shy smile craft her way on the pink lips his eyes drawn to.

Finally she accomplish what she intend. Muichiro intently watch the woman's movement, how she turn away, hand circling waves in the water and smile serenely in the peace. Completely different from him.

Chaotic and peace. They are suppose to be apart paths never crossing one another. Yet here he is closing the gap between them and standing beside her, his reflection on the water and hers appear more beautiful than he seen anything.

"What is your name ?" His voice tender.

"(L/N) (Y/N)". The name ring inside his head and indeed it's a pleasant name, it sounds just like her.

"What is your name ?" She question, glancing at the aloof man.

"Tokito Muichiro". He says. "I am a demon slayer". She nods, flutter knowing it from himself. "I have no memories of my past and to this day, even at age of twenty-two. My mind often forgets than not regarding most matters". He lay bare to all the known matters his mind knows.

"I am sharing such information because I wish you to remember me too". She glup, and watch him from the glistening water reflection. "I want to know you too". Something inside compelles him to do so. Know this woman and he is unaware to the reason. Her heart skip a beat to that.

They stay in the silence. Two strangers lingering at each other, unaware the next moment they would entwine paths again.

"I shall take my leave because I have undone work regarding demons". He utters, stepping back to leave when she hold his sleeve.

"Wait". His eyes followed her with rapt attention, mesmerized by every gesture, as she plucked a delicate bloom and presented it to him. The flower's gentle hue, a soft sky blue, seemed to hold a whispered promise."The name of the flower is forget-me-not". His gaze rest on her face. "I implore you, remember this flower, gifted by my hand or, at the very least, may its beauty evoke the memory of me".

☯

Something is missing.

Something is missing.

Something is missing.

Something is missing.

Muichiro's mind is mush and tangled because he is seeming like he is forgetting something and he can not recall it no matter how he press his memories, nothing. The outcome is frustrating. Heaven ! He have no clue why is he searching in the first place ? Why ? What ? Or in his mind, who ?

Was it something important ? Someone important ? His palm even seem lack of something, perhaps itching for the sword he slide to draw when something soft brushes his finger pads and he open his palm, finding a blue flower resting. Forget-me-not flower precisely. Why is he carrying a flower ? And forget-me-not specifically ? His heart restless and this flower must have link. It was someone. He is searching for someone correct ?

"Muichiro-San !" A scream turn his head, turquoise eyes wide at the sight of a large demon attacking. Tanjiro yelling his name and his sister out sensing danger. Even the swordsmans are out.

While (Y/N) is growing restless, a ominous feeling swirling inside her. "(L/N) ! Appear at the front door at once". Heard her name from the thin wall, she stood up and walk towards the entrance, growing more and more nervous. Her nail digging at her skin, tries to divert her mind to somewhere else.

Muichiro's sword, once a gleaming mirror to his unyielding spirit, now wore a crimson stain, seemed to drink in the filth of demon. Blood drip from his mouth from the attack on his stomach, coughs of blood pour out his mouth and, veins threat to rip within his skin yet his grip on his sword tighten only, keeping the monster at bay.

In hasty to reach her destination did a sliver ring spill from her cloth, rolling down the ground, if not for the click noise on the silence she could not care yet she did and bend down holding a band of her cruel reality, a reality where she is married to a stranger. And her sight glide her empty ring finger despite free from the chain of that man, does not change in eyes of law she belongs to him.

Muichiro's sword slipped from his grasp, and he crumpled to his knee, his battered form barely clinging to life. His skin was a canvas of purple and blue bruises, lacerations etched across his body like gruesome calligraphy and more coughs curse though his mouth, even vomit of blood spill down. The demon's triumphant laughter echoed through the air, its hand raised to deliver the final, fatal blow however, as a swift rock hurled by the demon slayer struck the demon's eyes, eliciting an agonized scream. Seizing the moment, Muichiro summoned his last vestiges of strength, does he then get a grip of his thrown sword and just in moment the it's hand pierce his heart, it's head fall to the ground. Cut from the nichirin Swords

(Y/N)'s finger curl the ring and breath. "I have ran away from him. He is not not here". Swallowing fear, she stood up, walking to the door and when she reached, few officers were standing. Her heart pound as a thought invade her mind. Are they here for her ?

Finally he fall to the dusty ground, puff of breathing escape his lips for his lungs and his fading vision saw a blue flower. He blink once, twice and clearly that forget-me-not is laying on the ground innocently. Muichiro groan when a whisper caress his skin.

"I implore you, remember this flower, gifted by my hand or, at the very least, may its beauty evoke the memory of me".

His eyes wide open and a gush of breath hitched. "(Y/N)". (Y/N), that woman from the noodle shop is who, he tries to recall. The sorrowful woman. She wants someone to remember her and he recall.

"(Y/N)". He mutter under his breath, trying to stand up.

"(Y/N)". An overwhelming desire of seeing her is tearing his inside.

"(Y/N)". He repeated, to not forget. To remember.

"(Y/N)". He says again, Tanjiro and Nezuko come to his side, picking him. "(Y/N). I need to see her". Trying to stand on his feet, he cough blood.

"You are in no shape to !" Tanjiro scream, breathing heavily too.

"(Y/N)". He repeats and holds the flower tight, blood smearing the stem yet he does not care, he needs the flower. This flower, bestowed upon him by her gracious hand, has become an obsession, a tangible thread connecting him to that woman whose presence had awakened an unexplainable longing within. He desperately wants her.

Why she held such sway over him, he could not fathom, yet he was irretrievably enthralled. His heart yearned for her with an intensity that defied reason.

"(Y/N)" he murmured again, the syllables a soothing balm to his battered soul, clinging to the sole remembrance of her.

In that fleeting instant, her name became his lifeline, his sanctuary, and his guiding sun.

"Yes. You called me ?" (Y/N) asks, shown herself to the officers and eyes searching for that figure, that nightmare of her, that man her parents sold to because they told her— A girl is always a man's property. When she is a child, she is her father's burden and marries to a man to become his. Her own needs, wants has no life. Her mother was the same and she wishes the same fate for her daughter thus she was dressed in white as a bride to bear her husband's color and be raped at the nights until strength of running away awoken within her and she ran, ran as far as she could at the first night of spring.

The officers's attention fall on her and suddenly her ears notice how deafening the silence was yet she smiles lovely as men desire and one of them said. "Have you heard this woman name Suzuki Himari ? She has gone missing, and her family is frantically seeking her." A sigh of relieve fill her that they were not after her and she shake her head, genuinely unaware of the poor woman.

"Your cooperation is greatly appreciated" the officer said, tipping his hat. "Should you hear or lay eyes on Suzuki Himari, we implore you to notify the authorities forthwith." (Y/N) nod again, not relaxing until they are out of sight.

"You may go back to your duty". She nod at the owner about to return when her eyes fell on the customers. It's been a month since he had not returned and her mind imagine will he ever again ? Then she pause. Why is she waiting for another man when one has already craft a personal hell for her ?

It was laughable. How could she betray herself for the loneliness surrounding her ? He is nothing but, a stranger. However deep down she knows that is further from the truth. He is more to her.

☯

His feet run, at the reckless abandon at the night, the favored time for demons to haunt yet he needs to meet her, the moment he opens his eyes, one word slip his lips. "(Y/N)". His body knew her before his mind could grasp leading him to that shop, two days prior was that fight and if not now, he does not when to see her. His body has recover and gain the strength it needs to travel long hours and one thing ring inside his mind is. 

"You have not know, how much in your dreams were you calling this mystic woman". Shinobu said, with a smile on her lips he does not want to acknowledge.

Crowds of people swing beside each others, some escaping to the festival from their mundane life, others simply enjoying the present time while others forced and Muichiro is none of them. He has no desire to partaken nor linger, he is only walking beside to reach the other side where (Y/N) rests.

And when his eyes saw the close sign on the shop, his heart race griping more fear than he fight demons to death. Yet he desperately walks to the other way, tries to find a way to be inside. When the pond comes to his mind and he walks to the path.

"(Y/N)". He chant her name like a religion and walk to a place, he remembers suddenly as if even destiny lending a hand because his breath taken away by simple sight of her sitting, her hair descend, braiding them mindless, wore a lose kimono, a goddess she appears in his view and his heart skip beats.

The feeling dawn at him. A feeling where one is utterly captivated and a fool. In love is what he heard has happen to him. He has fallen in love.

"(Y/N)". He slice though the breeze and (Y/N) look up, lips part and eyes wide for more than one reason.

First is his sudden appearance and second is his face, oh heaven, his face, a smile spread ear to ear in bliss of utter happiness along the blush, born not of breeze's chill nor exertion's flush, but of ardent devotion, suffused his cheeks and those usual devoid of emotions turquoise eyes are shining, bearing her reflection, as if she has pour soul into those very same soul less ones. The way they glow is breathtaking and (Y/N) can not deny the sentiment of his awaiting is because she is in love too.

She stand in the dirt bare feet and within seconds was she envelope into pair of arms she was not familiar yet only feel safe. "(Y/N)". She chuckle, he remembers her name. Her name that never sounds sweet, ring like it was meant to. And she knows why, because it's his voice that holds the magic.

"I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you so much I was afraid my heart would die out of aching". He passionately says, tighten around the first body of a woman he desires however all he felt is like they were connecting one anther like gaps of fingers in the palm. Meant to be together.

"I love you, (Y/N)". He confess and (Y/N) happiness dissolved at that moment. Her world pause and smile crease. She does not deserve his love, she does not deserve to have this sinful love reciprocate.

She push him a little. He let her, staring at her face when a lone tear roll down he wipe in seconds, "Why are you crying ?" His mind ringing of the cause of her sadness.

Who ? Who is the culprit ? Demon or human ? Man or woman ? Does not matter if he can cut them all, if it means she won't tear anymore. Happiness suits her.

"I can not return your love". She push him away like she is to his love and if he knew heartbreak has a voice, it will be wrap in her sentence because Muichiro can not wrap his head around.

"Why ?" An edge to his voice. "Why ? D-do you not love me ?" His eyes widening and hands desperately pull her closer. She avert those beautiful eyes away.

"I do". His heart amend a little at the same breath, skip too. "I am wed". Huh ? What is she uttering ? Muichiro refuse to believe the blunt lie. Or look at her sorrow face, a truth ?

"To be wed ?" It will be alright if he kill her betroth ? Correct ? However her shake of head prove him wrong.

"I am married. To someone else". His face twist in sadness and utter hopeless, how ? When ? Who had her before him ? And— questions bubble in his face and all were bleak, replacing sorrow with envy and hopeless with rage.

(Y/N) as if read those words surface in his mind utter. "I was forced to. My parents wed me to a man I had not known, even at the fact I was getting married had kept from me until in white dress I appear did I discover I was being hand to a man I did not love, even share a connection at all. It was too late to run away. They caught me, drag me and sat me to slide the ring and his surname beside my name". Tears swell in her eyes, throat dry and irritated at the haunting memories. "And his touch was that killed me, suffocating my soul with each cruel caress, ravaged me, day after day, using my body as a canvas for his twisted desires. I was a rag doll, a vessel for his depravity. Finally my sanity broke and I fled, from that hell that had consumed me". Her end of the voice crack and the demon slayer's hatred to this man only grew further, lamented not having found her sooner, not being able to shield her from the horrors she endured.

"Until I stumbling across you one day". She smile like a bacon of light reached out to her that day and perhaps to him too he does not recall. He returns the smile, kissing her forehead to which she close her eyes in bliss not fear.

"What if the man is cut from your life ?" He says her dream of every night and her lips part.

"Can you ?" Muichiro nod, leaning to her lips and she close her eyes again, becoming one with the man she loves and choose for herself.

☯

Rage curse through his veins of still no clue of his ran away wife. "Just wait once I will find you ! I will tear you apart !" Horrors of punishment circle his mind already if finds her to bestow, standing beside his study as the moon shone at him.

"That—". A whistle pass his ears, perking his attention. A stillness lay around him. The man dawn at how silent the nature was until this— again the whistle come from his behind. He turn his around. No one, the light of the candle shush and the whistle pass right near his ear, turning his heels behind. Heart rattling against his chest and fear high.

"Who are you !?" The words tumbled from his lips, his bravado crumbling like fragile stone beneath the tremulous edge of his voice.

"Your death." A low, ominous voice seemed to seal his fate. Before comprehension could grasp the threat, the door slid open with a dreadful screech. A stranger emerged, hurling a demon from its metal cage. The creature burst forth, its eyes aglow with ravenous hunger.

No scream escaped his lips, only strangled, terror-stricken whispers.

His voice was distorted, frozen in horror as the demon's jaws tore into his flesh. He stared, paralyzed, as the creature devoured his living being, its teeth ripping apart the very fabric of his existence. The agony was a living thing, consuming him from the inside out. As his vision waned, a fleeting glimpse seared itself into his mind: a sword, its blade etched with an otherworldly glow, slicing through his ring finger with merciless precision. A shriek of agony echoed through his mind as the stranger forced the severed digit into his mouth, compelling him to swallow. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the stench of violation, a gruesome sacrament sealing his fate.

Muichiro took great pleasure watching the man wither before beheading the demon himself after he satisfy this wretched creature by feeding three humans. The first pair was of her parents, who fortune enough was alive for him to be the judge of their death.

☯

Finally the ring that kept her from happy was finally leaving from her life along the surname of his and glancing at it for last time she for the first time smile knowing how he would never be able to find her let alone torment her at all.

"(Y/N) !" The gentle invocation of her name, uttered in that familiar, melodious voice, suffused her countenance with an even greater radiance. Her smile, a vision of joy, expanded, as if beckoned by the tender cadence. Upon turning her head met with those soulful mirroring her, eyes left her breathless of how depths, a window to his very essence, shone with an ardor.

Her fingers released the ring, permitting it to slip beneath the rippling waters to sink alike her first marriage as the token of her past towards her new one where she is engulfed by Muichiro, a realm of no bound of their love. "(Y/N)". Her name he utter are more intimate than those love are because of how much he repeats to directly soften her heart.

Language of love she heard, one of them were if she recall correctly were words of affirmation and if it exit then it bound to belongs to her lover. Who's favorite word is her name.

"Muichiro". And hers is his and never had he known such unalloyed joy when her lips shaped his name, the sound unfolding like a rose in bloom. In that fleeting instant, his existence was transcendent.

FIN

𝐀���𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◸◜𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ◞◿

[legokingfisher]

How must Misako have felt when she realized that the best chance she had of keeping her family together was to tear them further apart first?

[flowersforbucky]

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

[idksmtms]

To Love, What A Curse (Aegon II x Little Sister!reader, Unrequited!Aemond x Little Sister!reader)

A/N: It’s taken me a week to get over Aemond’s betrayal but this was written at the height of my pain. 

Summary: (S2 episode 4 spoilers) You watch from a distance as Aemond and Vhagar send your husband and his dragon tumbling to the Earth. You land in the newly created clearing to find Aemond intent on murdering your beloved. 

Word count: 3,880

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap between reader and siblings because I needed it for a part of the plotline but I didn’t specify it, slightly obsessive reader, ig toxic codependency between reader and Aegon, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, believing that a main character has died, Aemond Targaryen slander, (isn’t Aemond himself a warning??), SPOILERS: S2 Ep4, kinda smut? Like I describe the female body from a sexual male gaze, probs typos  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Even as a child, Aemond sometimes believed himself incapable of love. Not in a bad way, he did not feel he lost much without it, simply that he was incapable of it. Alicent, in the rare moment she chose to spend her time with her children, would read a story all about love, and he would find he could not understand it. He simply couldn’t relate. He had warm feelings for Alicent, a certain care for Helaena to be sure, but it was always belied by a certain numbness in his heart. 

And then suddenly… there you were. In his mind you appeared out of the fire. Like a dragon rising out of the ashes it created. In reality, you had been born just as he was reaching maturity, the age when you finally started remembering things for the rest of your lifetime. He had stood outside of Alicent’s birthing chambers, anxiously waiting for her to come out and tell him everything was fine. He could hear her screams, guttural and animalistic. He had only ever heard the dragons make such sounds. And then there was silence, a long moment of silence he would never forget because he knew not whether Alicent was dead, the child dead, everyone dead but him. Then the cry of a child, loud and shrill and rather annoying. 

He had pressed his ear to the door to try and listen, but all he got was cooing and hushing and the clatter of tools and the sloshing of water. It was but ten minutes later he almost fell forward into the room when someone opened the door. Alicent lay on the bed, shining with sweat, her beautiful red hair spread out all over the pillows and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths. A nursemaid on the side beckoned him inside as she gently swayed with a bundle of cloth wrapped in her arms. He wasn’t sure who to go to at first, Alicent or the short chubby woman with red cheeks who smiled warmer than Alicent ever had. He chose the latter, his intense curiosity to see the child surely contained in the bundle of cloth in her arms far outweighing the concern he had once held for Alicent. 

The nurse maid simply handed a young Aemond a little bundle of blankets with your little baby face peeking out of it. He stared at the pinched little face, this wriggling creature that was red all over. He believed that that was the first time in his life he had felt real love. Oh, and when you grasped onto his finger with your little hand, he felt he had been placed in a hot pan to gently heat up from the inside-out. From that moment on he had loved you. He had loved you so dearly that sometimes he snuck into the nursery just to watch you sleep. 

You were small, innocent, like a fresh snowflake fallen into the palm of his hand. You were to be protected at all costs, for the rest of his life. He willingly took up the challenge. Your entire childhood seemed a collection of memories of Aemond. Aemond cheering you on as you called ‘dracarys!’ for the first time. Aemond chasing you around the halls of the red keep when you wanted to play. Aemond distracting you when Alicent couldn’t be bothered to be your mother…  

Though it began as something innocent, something brotherly and sweet, it seemed the Targaryen curse for it to grow out of control. Suddenly a few years passed and you had become a woman. And suddenly he could not keep his eyes off of you no matter how hard he tried. One night, some moons after your eighteenth nameday, he had come to your quarters to return a book he had stolen at some point during the day. Not realising that you had had a rather difficult day, that you had wished to bathe in peace, you had sent all your maids away. He had walked in on you rising from your bath. No one had been there to stop him or usher him out, and he had stood there, frozen, watching you jump and try to cover yourself with your hands before grabbing the robe left on one of the tables beside the bathtub. He had dropped his head, his remaining eye shuttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly. A short and quick ‘my apologies’ left his mouth and he walked back out. But the image came with him. 

You, shiny and wet, glistening in the light of the fire. The sound of the water dripping off of you and back into the bathtub, little plink plink plink sounds as they hit the edges. Your hair, darkened at the edges and sticking haphazardly to the skin of your shoulders. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. The space between them that was just shadowed enough that he could only see the top where your lips began to separate… He could not sleep for days for fear of encountering the image again behind closed eyes, in the free land of his dreams.  

You were sweet, and kind, a bit of a miracle considering the situation you had been raised in, and it suddenly seemed an unfair expectation for him not to fall in love with you. Had you not been made for him? Crafted by the same womb to be his for eternity? You defied everyone with your kindness devoted to him. You made him smile with your smile, made him dance as you danced. You sang little songs you made up in your head and cuddled into his side so he could read to you in High Valyrian. You seemed just as attached to him as he was to you. You were perfect… except for one thing. What he considered your fatal flaw. Your unending, almost obsessive devotion to Aegon. 

Mayhaps you had had the same effect on Aegon as you had had with him. Maybe it was simply that you had slowly made Aegon partial to you by being that sweet creature that you were. Though he believed anything possible when it came to you, he was never quite sure how you had changed Aegon. If not for everyone, but at least for you. It was obvious to the eyes of those who could view into House Targaryen that Aegon, described by his closest family as a hedonistic wastrel, cared for you, took care of you, hid from you all the deficiencies of his character. No one could make head or tail of it. How did you differ from Helaena or Aemond or even distant Daeron? You, conceived exactly the same way as the others, related to him exactly the same way as the others, were no different to the siblings he already had. But he thought Helaena weird, thought Aemond a rather pathetic and easy target, didn’t think of Daeron at all, and viewed the rest of his life as an excuse to get drunk. Aemond believed it to be your kindness that, if capable of piercing his own stony disposition, could easily curl up around Aegon’s fragile heart and devote him to you.  

In truth, out of all of his siblings, you had simply been the one to truly love Aegon, whether he wanted it or not. You seemed to make up for all the love he lacked from every other person in his life. You saw him as the eldest, the one to look up to, the one to lavish with love and devotion in your position as the youngest. He would be the one to protect you, the one to treat you as his littlest and most loved one. Wishful or not, all the stories told you that this was his position. Though Aemond spent most of his time looking after you, being the protector, you did not seem to hold him in esteem for it. He was simply there. 

At first, Aegon had failed in these expectations of yours. He had not bothered to spend time with you, not bothered to indulge in the love you so freely offered him. He believed you were just another creature created by Alicent to look down upon him. Another person to disappoint with his shortcomings. He later considered those his lowest moments. But then he had seen the way your face fell when he had shooed you away, saw the way tears collected at the corners of your eyes when you offered him a flower and he had barely turned. Slowly, he began to humour you, smiling widely when you offered him the flower once more. Not shooing you away anymore, but simply telling you that he would come find you when he was available to do it. He pressed kisses to your little cheeks and tickled your stomach. And with this care returned, your devotion grew. 

He remembered vividly the first time he had truly noticed not only how much he cared for you, but how much you seemed to care for him in return. He had taken the blame for you once, when Alicent had walked into her living quarters and found a jug of wine spilled all over the floor. You had dropped it in your bid to reach up and grab it, hoping to sip from the jug though you weren’t allowed wine yet. Aegon had claimed it was him, that he was too drunk to see properly (when in fact he had been sober for the first time in a long time). He had been sent to bed without being allowed any dinner, and Alicent had raged at him for twenty minutes about his lack of duty, respect, propriety. But then you had snuck to his room after everyone had gone to bed with two plates filled to the brim with food. He felt he had never eaten better in his entire life. You had sat with him, giggling then shushing yourself as you looked up at him starry eyed. You seemed to give him all the kindness and love you possessed in your body, and he was ready to take. Frankly, he had nowhere else to get it from anyway. 

Maybe some part of you had always believed that you and Aegon were meant for each other, but you truly seemed to realise it the night Aemond read you the Targaryen histories. He had started at the beginning, telling you all about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives. You had sat up on his bed, pulling out from under his arm and turning to face him as you listened, enraptured. As Aemond spoke of the love Aegon bestowed upon Rhaenys, you thought of your Aegon. Of course, it all made sense now, you were destined. He was Aegon, and you would be his sister-wife, his Rhaenys, meant to be as it was in the greatest of histories. 

When your dragons mated, your beauty and his Sunfyre, it felt cemented into fate. It would have to be so. The gods had deemed it. When Otto and the council began clamouring for the children to be married, particularly Aegon, Alicent had gone to pray every day in the sept for a fortnight before allowing your betrothal. You secretly believed that she was praying for the gods to intervene somehow but you knew they were the ones that had chosen this. 

When your betrothal was announced, it was the first time neither you nor he had complained about a decision made by Alicent or the council. Alicent had called all of you to her chambers, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and you, to announce it, and neither you nor Aegon had a word to say in dissent. You had simply turned to each other and nodded, little hidden smiles only visible in the dancing of your eyes. Of course neither of you noticed the way Aemond clenched his fists behind his back, or the stony glare he switched between Alicent and Aegon. He had come over, kissed you on the cheek and whispered his congratulations as you hugged him animatedly.  

Aegon had even kissed you for the first time the night of your betrothal ball, hidden in an alcove at the darkest part of the night, hands buried in your hair, tilting your head back and pressing his mouth to yours as if he wanted to devour you starting at the lips. He had whispered ‘I love you’s’ in your ear the entire evening and you danced with no one else. 

Aemond was not sure when you broke his heart the most. When you had gushed to him all evening about your elation at being betrothed to Aegon, when you had seemingly forgotten his existence the night of your betrothal ball, or the evening you announced you were pregnant with Jahaerys and Jahaera. 

People seemed to tread carefully around you after Jahaerys’s death. You believed this to be the reason you found out too late that Aegon had taken off to Rook’s Rest. 

Every day, at some random point in the day, you would seek out Aegon, and the both of you would sit curled up together eating biscuits, drinking wine, and comforting each other. In the aftermath of Jahaerys’s death you had thought that was a necessity lest he try and run from you in his grief. Though he had still bludgeoned the man to death, had still had all the ratcatchers hanged, you were simply happy that he did not hide from you. 

In that spirit, you had gone in search of him, only to find out he had left an hour ago to chase down the battle after conversing with Alicent. You were forced to waste a little more time to change into your riding clothes as your beauty was saddled, though you had abandoned the attempts of your ladies maids trying to pull an extra blouse over your head. You wore only a simple tunic over your chemise and ran for the dragonpit. 

You weren’t quite sure why the gods wanted to punish you so. Your baby, little Jahaerys, was his death not enough? You were late, but not late enough to be spared the vision from a distance of Aemond commanding Vhagar to attack Sunfyre and Aegon. Your heart was in your throat, choking you. Your grip on the reins loosened, and as you watched Sunfyre tumble down from the sky, your dragon shrieked and began flying even faster. You heard the crash, even from how far you were. Your hands were sweaty and cold, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be off the dragon. You began unclipping yourself from the saddle, ready to slip off and plummet to the ground. Your mind was running so fast you couldn’t grasp a thought, only saw what you saw, heard what you heard, and felt what you felt. There were no words. But you stopped yourself, clipped yourself back in, and let yourself be brought ever closer to Aegon in whatever condition you would find him. 

Aemond watched the forest floor burn around Aegon without a single feeling. He watched the embers on Aegon’s body, sizzling away at his hair and skin. He watched the soot gather on Aegon’s armour, watched Sunfyre huff and writhe in pain as the fire continued its relentless assault all over their bodies. He did not feel anything. No remorse, no fear, no sadness. There was no happiness either, no joy or elation. There was simply nothing. 

His sword was in his hand, pulled mostly out of the scabbard, when he heard rustling behind him. He turned slightly, just enough so his remaining eye could gaze on the intruder, and he saw you. At first he blinked, once and then twice to be sure you were there and not a mirage in the heat. But then he saw the way you were looking at him, the creases around your eyes and mouth as you gasped, mouth agape in pain. Your breaths were ragged, and you were still mostly hidden in the brush, but he could see your face so clearly, as if you had been outlined against the shrubbery. The face that he had watched grow out of its baby fat and into the shape of the young woman that you were. The face that had once smiled brightly in his direction and sought him out for comfort. The face that he had loved so dearly. The face that now burned with rage. 

“You-you traitor! You coward! You have no loyalty, no respect!” You sounded almost hysterical as you spoke, clambering over shrubbery and shattered branches. Aemond stared at you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, each word laced with the deepest pain one could possibly experience, a half-sob half-choking sound. Your cheeks were bright red and shiny with sweat, you had shed your riding coat and your grey pants were covered in sap from clambering over a tree trunk. Aemond thought you had never looked more beautiful. “You truly are self-serving, and-and cruel.” Each word hit him in the chest as if Vhagar was breathing fire directly at him. He would not care if it had not been you saying these words. His grip on his sword tightened as he watched you begin to shed tears (though you already had dried tracks down your cheeks), hurrying around and looking for a way through the circle of fire around Aegon and Vhagar. You turned to him for a moment, a singular moment, and his heart stopped dead at the way your face was contorted in pain and anger and pure hatred. Your eyebrows knitted by a crease above your nose bridge, your mouth pulling back at the corners and your eyes burning like wildfire. “You’re a monster.” 

The word seemed to echo in the forest, even above the sound of the fire. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths heaving as he stared at you with a sense of his body crumbling. Not once in the entire battle had he felt this close to devastation. Not once in his life. Even in the darkest nightmares he experienced, not once did he ever imagine you saying these words to him, to look at him so… 

Aemond had not once cared about Aegon’s wellbeing in his entire life. Even now, he did not care about it. If Aegon died he would not shed a tear. In all honesty, he would be more inclined to smile, but watching you walk through fire to get to that manic drunk’s body sent a spear through his heart. Why? Why were you so willing to succumb to your own death for that fool? Why, throughout your entire lives have you always chosen Aegon, when he was standing right here, ready, rather, impatient, to love you? He would have raised his sword and begun walking again, a certain defiance suddenly filling him to the brim, had it not been for the way you began to wail at the sight of Aegon. 

It was a wail of death. He did not think a person was capable of this sound. Around him in the forest, another high keening sound began. It was your dragon, head raised to the sky, mouth open and roaring like the pain was within her. Then, behind him, with the very ground rumbling as she rose, Vhagar raised her head to the sky and roared so loud that legend states it was heard from the Wall to the southernmost tip of Dorne. Even Sunfyre, with his last breaths, keened in pain and joined the cacophony. Aemond pressed his hands to his ears and waited for it to cease. A war was being waged on him, inside and out. 

He closed his eyes, trying to forget you, forget the pain you inflicted on him simply by being in pain, but the gods would not let him. 

You were on the floor now, hands shaking as you reached out to pull Aegon’s half-singed body onto your lap. You were caressing his hair, rocking back and forth and crying salty tears directly onto his wounds. Aemond could not move. However much he wanted to walk toward you, wanted to walk away from you, the gods had set him to his place. You turned your head up to look at him through the fire, shaking and hiccuping. Your eyes were so full with tears that he could only see light reflected in them. 

“What did you hope to get out of this?!” You sobbed, almost screaming with the pain. It was minutes before you could even speak again.“Did you expect I would suddenly love you? Did you think you could buy me with a crown?” 

There it was, finally out in the open. The truth both of you had danced around since you had become of marrying age. You had known, of course you had known, though he had never been overly blatant about it, it was obvious that he had favoured you. The night your betrothal to Aegon had been announced, Aemond had gone to Alicent to beg her to change it, to offer Aegon Helaena's hand instead. But she had been adamant. His grandsire and Viserys had stated that it would be best for Aegon to marry a sister, prattle about emulating Aegon the Conqueror and preserving the purity of the King’s bloodline. It made sense to marry him to the youngest. Helaena could still be used to marry for advantage, a second child but first daughter held more sway. 

He could see that secretly his mother was happy to betroth Aegon to you. She didn’t want her youngest daughter to leave. She was by far more attached to you than any of her other children, and if you hadn’t married Aegon you would’ve been sent off. One marriage between siblings was enough, the rest were simply assets in a bigger game. 

Now, as Aemond looked at you, he could see none of the love you had once bestowed on him. The face he had once longed to caress, the lips he had once wished to kiss, all appalled at the sight of him. You had never sneered at him this way before, never even turned your face or voice to him in a negative way before. Maybe this was a nightmare, and soon he would wake up, sweating and panting and looking around with fright, before seeking you out, happy to discover that you were still unmarried, and ready to cuddle him to sleep.

You clung to Aegon even tighter as you glared at Aemond through your tears, just a blurry black spot in a sea of green. “If I was even capable of loving a creature like you before you did this,” you spat with such venomous rage that even Vhagar bristled behind Aemond. “I am incapable of it now.” You turned your head back down to Aegoon, and seemed to curl your body around him like a dragon curling over her eggs. The edges of your dress caught fire and slowly began to burn but you let it, not even feeling the heat. 

Ser Criston found the three of you like that, as if suspended in time. 

Taglist: @summerposie, @izuoyarmin 

A/n: Tell me. Was Aemond or Reader right about why Alicent didn’t refuse the betrothal between reader and Aegon? 

[deanscherrypie69]

Girl dad Logan🩷

Pairings; Logan Howlett x F!malereader Warnings; fluff, just logan and his girls!

A/n, I’m gonna try to turn this into a series. So lmk if yall enjoy this ! Cause I loved writing it!!!

🩷🩷🩷

You don’t t know what time you’d woken up, but you reach out to feel the side of the bed where your husband had laid. But it was cold.

Opening your eyes, you see that the covers had been thrown back. Huffing you throw the blankets off your body. You sit at the side of the bed and run a hand down your face. To wake yourself up.

“Logan?” You say with a raspy voice.

When he doesn’t answer back you manage to get up from the bed.

“Okay come on girl.” You say rubbing your swollen belly. You’d been pregnant for almost seven months. It was your second baby. A girl.

Logan was over the moon. He couldn’t wait to have another girl.

Your first daughter ivy was attached to Logan’s hip since the day she was born.

They did everything together.

It was adorable. It was Logan who insisted on having another baby. You couldnt say no. You were right there with him. You wanted to expand the family.

“Lo?” You hum as you reach the living room. There was no one in there.

Your head whips over to the sound of a shrieking laugh.

Furrowing your eyebrows you make your way over to ivy’s room.

The door had been open a crack. Through the crack you see Logan sitting as ivy’s tea table. With a tiara on.

“Here you go daddy.” Ivy says giving Logan a plastic tea cup.

“Thanks bub.” Logan took the plastic cup. You watched as he bought it up to his mouth and took a sip.

You couldn’t help but awe at the moment that was unfolding right in front of you.

Without saying a word you fully open the door.

Logan lifted his head up and smiled when he saw you.

His smile was big. He was glad to see you.

“Mommy!” Ivy shrieks and grabs your leg.

“Good morning!” You say ruffling her long brown hair.

Logan clears his throat. Causing your gaze to be on him.

“It’s actually the afternoon.”

You gasp and look at ivy’s clock that had been sitting. On her dresser. “Why didn’t you wake me? Did she eat did you give her a bat-“

“She’s fine-“ Logan cuts you off with a chuckle. “I figured I just let me two girls sleep. How is she doing today anyways.”

Ivy gives your leg one more squeeze, then goes back to her tea set.

“Come here.” Logan reaches out his hands of you to take.

You stand in front of him. He’d still been sitting down. He puts his hands into your belly.

“How’s my beautiful girl.” He kisses your belly. It’d been covered by his t-shirt. You’d used them as nightgowns.

Logan looks up at you.

“How are you?” He hums rubbing a hand over your belly.

“M’kay just tired.” You say with a big yawn.

“That’s why I let you sleep, I figured you needed it. And plus she woke me up at 9:30 this morning wanting to play princess tea party.”

He motions to ivy, who was feeling her stuffed bear a cookie.

You chuckle. You bring your hand down tj his hair and run your fingers through it. “You’re a great dad Logan.”

You hum. You feel tears begin to spill from your eyes.

When Logan notices he quickly gets up. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” He hums flicking the tears away.

“She’s lucky to have you.”

Logan pulls you into a hug, his chin resting on your head. "And she's lucky to have you, you're a great mom." Logan places a kiss onto your forehead.

He wipes the tears off your face. "I love you."

"I love you more." You hum.

"Mommy!" Ivy squeaks, "Play princess tea party with me and daddy!" She was jumping up and down with excitement.

"Okay okay." You giggle pulling away from logan.

Logan couldn't help but take in the sight that unfolded in front of him, he was happy. And he wanted it to stay like this forever.

Just Logan and his girls.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #37

Progenitor

Imagine dis…

I saw a TikTok about this and some A03 fics inspired me as well.

It is about the eldest daughter being parentified by her parents towards her younger siblings.

Many fics portray Danny as much closer to Jazz as she is the one who raised him since their parents are so focused on their ghostly research, and even during crucial days like holidays are filled with arguments.

There are very few where I saw Jazz feeling motherly love towards Danny, doing things only a mother would dare to do for the sake of her child.

…

Danny was originally born as Danyal Al Ghul, the lesser twin of him and his older brother, Damian Al Ghul. Danyal has the softness that no Al Ghul should have, the innocence that seems to bloom within his heart that seemed impossible to grow under the harsh desert sand and discipline within their grandfather’s rule. He tried to open up to his twin, after all, they came together, so there must be something to be linked between the two brothers.

Yet it was naive thinking of him, it had met him a deep scar on his right cheek for such an act.

He also tried to reach out to his mother, surely the woman with whom he shared a connection both blood and flesh, and the woman who had carried him and his brother within her womb instead of the artificial womb that grandfather insisted for their development for future advantage.

He received nothing but a slap and an hour under intense torture that no toddler should ever experience.

He also tried to reach out to their guard, the guard with hazed eyes. Damian had immediately lost interest in their supposed guard but he stayed. He observed the guard found little things that he quite enjoyed with the guard, the nameless guard would hold the book as if reading but now actual movement reading, so he would occasionally sit on his lap and let him read a book and read it out loud, sometimes he would see him nod along or a slight twitch of his fingers or face.

He got attached to his guard, and despite being catatonic he still had the moves of a deadly fighter so Danyal began copying him, learning from him, every time he got as much as a scrape his guard would kneel and stare at the wound as if he could stare the injury away. It made Danyal smile as he knew that his guard was trying to make it better but knew nothing of how.

Under those glazed eyes Danyal heard him speak for the first and last time. It was another day for Danyal and his guard yet when he entered his chamber he was gone, leaving Danyal to care for his heart that had been broken for another time.

Slowly but surely he made a wall around his heart, he loved so much, he loved so much yet no one stayed for him. No one gave their love and devotion back to him. So he put up walls, so that his fragile heart that had been torn into pieces by those he gave his heart to, would never further break.

It was a normal day really, a small time group of assassins that had been absorbed by the League a long time ago held loyalty to their former leader who had been executed by Ra. In an act of revenge, the remaining assassins poisoned the two heirs of the Demon head and immediately killed themselves.

As Danyal lays down on the cold floor of their private chambers with Damian already unconscious he begins to wish, from the books he manages to read with his guard he learns of a legend, wish upon a star tell no one and your wish will come true, he began to wish for his next life for someone to love him with all his heart.

…

He was reborn, the moment he blinked his eyes he noticed that had regressed into a mere baby. He was born into a family of scientists, if he can call them that, ever spent most of their time tinkering away and discussing their l; latest project. It did not bother Danyal Daniel much as he had experienced firsthand how to be compared and be ignored in favor of your much in favor of brother.

But this time it was different, instead of being left behind by the older sibling she stayed. Jasmine or Jazz as she preferred, stayed and looked after him, which confused him for a bit, being the more favored sibling both by their parents and the desolate town around them, she could left him to fend for himself, but still, she stayed.

She read so many books that reached passed her height, about parenting and how to take care of a baby. It was all new to him that he didn’t know what to do with all of the attention and love that seem to radiant from his sister to him.

He saw some of his age group civilians see how they look at their guardians and parents and how said guardians/ parents would act towards them and made a realization that he finally found the one, the one where he could lower his walls and give his entire heart to, mother? Or father? Titles that whispered inside his head. Whenever he needed help she was there, whenever he was in distress she was there to comfort her. Each time she was there, both mother and father she had filled both roles despite having the opportunity to go away and be great using her intellect and own means she stayed just for him.

He physically fumbled and tripped at what to do with the amount of love that he could ever wish to have, not only that 2 more joined in loving and caring for him. Samantha Ingrid "Sam" Manson and Tucker Foley are friends who are with him through thick and thin, even at the moment of his death they were there.

To get back to them forever loving him, he defended the town where his precious people lived.

Ellie was a surprise he sometimes wished to have a younger sibling to care for, it may started rough but both are going somewhere. Then there is his older self from the future, he saw himself if he managed to lose the most important people in his life. Dan knew both in and out the things he kept secret and every thought he made, both made a slow and shaking bond but when something clicked within them, it was there to acknowledge.

It had been perfect, Daniel Danny’s life had been, a family that loved him it was all he ever wished for. If only Maddie and Jack never did discover who he was, being cut open and witnessing how your very insides move and twitch made even the hardened soldiers faint. Jazz’s scream echoed the deep lab that coated his blood at every nook and cranny.

The moment he woke up he felt nothing but dread, he was back….

Deep within the walls of the League, a lone boy let out a silent scream to the skies.

…

Danyal woke up three days after Damian woke up, He could not get into his head, he still retained the memories of when he was Danny, some scars that only Danny ever had yet it all felt like a dream, a haze and illusion that his mind had made. From that day on he began moving through the motion, without putting any life or force in each swing, being the good little soldier that all wanted. Slowly the light in his eyes was lost and if you were to observe him from afar you’d see an asset, not a boy walking through the motions of the day.

Ra was pleased, the tool that he had seen but a dull knife was slowly sharpening itself, while both Damian and Talia remained indifferent.

…

The twins were 10 when they were sent off to their father in Gotham.

Richard “Dick” Grayson immediately took a liking to Damian as he not only saw Jason in him but also a child that needed guidance, which was cemented when they all thought that Bruce had died, it was right then that moment when Dick ensured to be the guidance that Damian needed, all while leaving Danyal.

Jason tried to be closer to the demon brat but whenever he tried to initiate some of his old habits back when he was in the League and back when his mind was still hazy he was met with a sword in his face he thought that he was shy and kept on trying to connect with said baby brother, all while leaving Danyal.

Tim is reserved and becomes guarded when Dmain threatens him and cuts off his line, he also sets up expectations towards the silent twin who seems to be a wallflower most of the time but that doesn’t deter him, so when Tim and Damian begins working on a relationship, they just didn’t see the other twin that had been left behind again.

Bruce has many regrets in his life and when his biological kids appeared he swore to be there for them, it was when he was lost in the time stream that he promised himself to be more involved in all of his kid's lives, from Dick’s job as a cop in Bludhaven to Damian’s artwork at school. He made sure that he had the time for all of them, never repeating his mistakes, yet he also left Danyal behind.

…

Constantine is sweating, as much as he rather summon another bloody demon to deal with the problem at hand, he knows that even the strongest demons he could call forth could not defeat a denizen of the Realms. He already explained to the rest of the JL that only a denizen that is either equal or greater power can defeat whomever it is making the citizens of Metropolis depressed and being murdered left and right. As he drew the summoning circle to summon the strongest that could catch this call, he just hoped it was something he or the JL could pay.

As he activated the circle, large blue flames began to surround the entire JL base that are both cold and hot. He closed his eyes shit at the sheer intensity of this being’s raw power to the point every JL member from both Dark and Maine is pushed 5 feet back at the intense power when he opened his eyes to look at what kind of being he just summoned he immediately paled to the color of paper.

There she is, in all her glory, blue flames that flow down to her back, standing 8 feet tall carrying a javelin, she wears a stunning navy blue gown that combines elegance with a militaristic edge. The sculpted shoulders, embellished with gold-embroidered epaulets, gave her a commanding presence, while the fitted bodice embraced her figure with effortless grace. A satin belt with a gold buckle tightened her waist, and the A-line skirt fell just past the knee. Subtle gold accents traced the seams, giving the clothing a regal appearance. The garment, worn with tailored slacks underneath, gave her freedom of movement evoking the authority of an empress.

He just summoned the bloody Mother of the Infinite Realms, the mother of the prince of the Infinite Realms that defeated the tyrant Pariah Dark. He immediately prostates himself alongside the rest of the JL Dark realizing whom John Constantine just summoned.

…

The rest of the JL that remained standing looked in awe and caution at the being that Constantine managed to summon, as well as the rest of the JL Dark’s behavior towards the being. All sweaty and bowing in reverence. In the most polite tone they ever heard from the con artist he asked for their assistance in containing a rouge denizen and their payment for such an endeavor.

The being looked at each of them slowly, feeling their very instincts to bow at least at the being when they felt their eyes on them and ultimately paused on Batman. She pointed her weapon at the Bat cladded hero and asked him for him as payment, not anything that Constantine was thinking but hearing his skill as a great detective their payment was for Batman to look for her treasure that she had lost and at moment she had felt the moment they stepped into this universe. Batman agreed after they had smoothed over the details of said contract. The empress, Nightigale, summoned her knight and told him to deal with their denizen and toss them back into Walker’s prison.

Looking blankly at Batman, he had no choice but to let Empress Nightingale follow him back to the cave for her to foresee the investigation of her treasure and to ensure he fulfilled his end of the deal.

…

The moment Bruce stepped inside the cave he noticed Empress Nightgale had also stopped dead in her tracks and looked intently at his youngest, Danyal, who had been training at one of the cave’s training mats. What’s more interesting is that Danyal also stopped and stared at the visitor that Bruce brought along. Just as he was about the introduce the two, he saw Danyal the ever-quiet child sprung into life and tackled the empress, while Nightgale herself had her long arms wrapped around Danyal.

Bruce saw Danyal’s eyes spring into life, tears welled up in his eyes and a pure smile stretched across his youngest face. Suddenly Bruce felt Bane had punched him again, he had never seen his youngest so happy, so full of life ever since he met him. He always thought that his youngest was independent, so quiet that he had left him with his devices, somewhere within Bruce’s mind whispered that he was too late once again.

…

News about Danyal’s sudden change of attitude had reached all of the members, even in the deep corner of space.

Dick, Jason, and Tim are now seething with rage and disappointed at themselves for the wasted time they wasted in being Danyal’s life. Who has now an older sibling that despite his menacing appearance adored and teased Dnayal in a way that erupted laughs and giggles from the boy?

Dick forgetting that they were twins, Dick kept reassuring himself that he was too busy but with each memory that he visited Danyal is always right behind them looking at them with lifeless eyes, as if he had just made a different choice back then.

Jason for forgetting his ward that had adopted when he was in the League, probably the only thing that kept him sane as the green clouded in his mind when he was dunked in the pit was the fact his little chick was within the walls and the thought that he might hurt him halted his massacre.

Tim who had now noticed the small notes scattered on his desk that were not the handwriting of anyone he knew yet the initial DW, always assumed that it was Damian who was quietly helping him in cases but the revelation that it had been Danyal made him want to turn back time. He had noticed early on that Danyal wanted to be closer to him, but pushed the boy away for expecting to be like Damian.

Damian is seething with jealousy as he notices that Danyal begins spending most of his time outside with the demon that stole his brother. He kept bringing up to his father that the being that Constantine summoned was a demon already mind-controlled Danyal. But even though he cannot stop and drink in the joyful face that Danyal has whenever he is with Nightgale, he keeps remembering the time Danyal acted this way towards him.

Talia is also seething beneath her mask of indifference how dare this thing claim to be her son’s parent? It is not she who had given birth nor she is the one who ensured they both survive, but the fact that thing gifted Danyal the head of the Joker and her father’s head after revealing to her son her own father’s plan that even she is not privy on made her want to revive her father herself and be the one to end his pathetic life, how dare his father plan that horrendous ritual behind her back.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: An inspiration bug bit me and would not let me rest until I finish this.

PPS: Got too long for my liking again.

[benjinotes]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - prologue

next.

( benjicot blackwood x daella velaryon )

don’t translate.

Rain pattered against the window of the young princess' chambers, its steady rhythm echoing Daella's growing unease. Seated by the fireplace, the warmth of the flames should have comforted her, yet her mind remained unsettled, thoughts swirling like the storm outside.

The book on her lap had been forgotten for quite some time; the only indication of its existence was her index finger absentmindedly massaging its leather spine.

The crackle of burning logs mingled with the distant rumble of thunder and the patter of rain outside, creating a slightly foreboding symphony. Daella's gaze shifted from the flames to the window, where raindrops raced across the pane. The Dragonstone Castle, usually bustling with life, now rested eerily quiet under the veil of night.

Suddenly, a strange noise caught her attention. Observing from afar, she saw a crow perched in the window, its black feathers glistening in the occasional flash of lightning. The bird watched her with intelligent, penetrating eyes, as if carrying an unknown omen.

However, what caught her attention the most was the red beak that the bird had, which seemed to stand out against its black features and, for some reason, brought her comfort.

Deep down, she knew that this was the maximum comfort she could get at that moment and for the next few days, since her mother's throne had just been usurped and her brothers had gone in search of allies to fight in a war that was to come.

Remembering that Jacaerys and Lucerys were alone out there in search of allies made Daella's heart come to her throat and made her feel a little guilty for not having followed them in search of more support for reclaiming the throne. Yet she couldn't go, not when her combat skills were almost nonexistent and not when Rhaenyra was mourning Visenya, who had died during birth.

To say Daella was her mother's shadow was an understatement. The princess was like her mother's shadow from the day she was born, following in her footsteps in almost every aspect of life. The connection between them was so deep that Daella seemed to reflect her mother's essence and values in almost everything she did.

She would do anything for her mother, and that's why she decided to stay to help her, because in addition to loving her unconditionally, she knew her; she knew that Rhaenyra was suffering, and she knew that sometimes she was too proud to admit it. That was one of the things they had in common.

"Princess Daella?!" A man's deep voice woke her from her thoughts, and she jumped a little, startled by the sudden noise that came from behind the oak door. "Princess, are you there?" The man asked again, and she recognized it as Sir Duman's voice, one of her mother's most faithful guards.

Regained her composure, Daella took a deep breath, and hurried to the door of her chambers, both worried and curious about the late-night interruption.

The first thing she saw when she opened the letter was Sir Duman's worried face. The flickering torchlight in the hallway cast shadows across his features, highlighting the urgency in his eyes.

Lifting her chin and stretching her back, Daella couldn't help but feel worry wash over her, but still, her voice didn't waver as she began to speak. "Yes, Sir Duman, I'm here. What happened?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The old man's expression returned to normal, and the girl couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when she noticed his expression soften.

That meant he didn't bring bad news, right?

"Queen Rhaenyra is waiting for you in the great hall, my princess; she wishes to speak with you." Sir. Duman began, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the castle. "A raven has arrived with news." At those words, the Velaryom girl furrowed her eyebrows in question, curiosity falling over her once again.

"Oh." Daella said, and she bit her tongue when she realized her short and stupid answer. "Then let's go; we can't keep our grace waiting." At Daella's words, the man nodded and waited for the princess to lead the way, giving a small bow when she passed in front of him.

Even as she tried to maintain a confident posture while making her way towards the great hall, the Velaryon girl couldn't help but let some of her other concerns creep back into her mind, and the speculations of what could have happened seized her brain in such a ravenous way that she felt like she might vomit at any moment.

The queen had never summoned her at such a late hour, so the matter must be urgent.

Upon arriving at the great hall, Daella carefully opened the door, finding her mother and stepfather, Deamon, standing in front of the stone table. Strangely, none of them seemed to notice her presence there.

"Your grace." The princess spoke in a loud voice, hearing the wooden door behind her slam as she spoke. "Did you request my presence?" The girl said that, although it came out more as a questioning tone, she couldn't help but smile when she noticed her mother's violet eyes looking at her with so much love.

Without hesitation, Rhaenyra approached her daughter, a smile on her face but a tired look that made Daella's heart sink. Losing Viserys had been difficult for her mother, but losing Visenya had caused her mother heartbreak that she had never felt before.

She knew she probably couldn't endure a loss like that as well as her mother did, which only deepened her admiration for her.

"My sweet girl." The queen greeted her sweetly, and Daella couldn't help but let her smile widen when she realized that she wanted to have a conversation as a mother and not as a queen.

"Yes, māzma?" Daella questioned with curiosity shining in her eyes and got a little closer to her mother, managing to get a clearer view of her stepfather, who was currently reading a letter with an annoyed expression. The coat of arms of House Blackwood was visible on the envelope he had in his another hand. (mom)

Rhaenyra sighed softly, and when the princess saw her exchanging meaningful glances with Daemon, their eyebrows drew together in confusion. "You know we sent letters to some noble houses seeking support for the war, right?" The queen asked rhetorically and gave another sigh when she saw her daughter nodding her head hesitantly.

Daemon got a little closer to them.

For some reason, Daella's heart began to beat heavily, and she couldn't help but bite her lip, anxious for the next words the white-haired woman was going to say to her.

"The good news is that most houses have decided to join us." Daemon spoke up for the first time, sensing his wife's hesitation in bringing up the subject. He just wanted to finish this conversation.

"But?" Daella asked when she noticed the hesitation and the hesitant exchange of glances. Her head was racing. They should be happy to have such strong allies, but yet they seemed worried, and the fact that none of them told her what was happening was starting to make her upset.

"The Blackwoods have agreed to support our cause." This time, Rhaenyra spoke and placed a hand on her belly. "But they have one condition." The woman's words faded off, and Daella turned to her stepfather for an explanation.

Daemon moved a little closer and looked at his wife for permission before speaking. "They want a marriage alliance between you and Benjicot Blackwood." He explained carefully, and the princess looked at the two in shock.

The revelation hit Daella like a wave, causing her to step back in shock. She had always known a political marriage was inevitable, but now that the reality had dawned on her, she felt dazed and even a bit unwell.

"What? Why?" She asked, distressed, her heart pounding and her hands sweating as she walked backward down the hall. Rhaenyra glanced at her worried daughter before turning back to her husband and giving him a nod.

Daemon massaged his forehead, starting to get irritated. "House Bracken and House Blackwood have always been at odds." The man began to explain and once again looked at his wife for permission to continue. "Upon discovering that the Branckens were our allies, Lord Blackwood made the marriage request in exchange for his troops and services." He finished, and the princess couldn't help but give a disbelieving nasal laugh, her hand out of a simple rivalry. It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.

Noticing Daella's expression, Rhaenyra approached her daughter again, this time more carefully. "I know it's a lot to process. But it's your decision; if you don't want to get married, Daemon and I will refuse the proposal." She said, while putting her hand on Daella's face, who bit her lower lip.

She harbored an intense desire to express her refusal, to vocalize her frustration, but remained unable to do so, aware of the imminent threat of war, the critical need for allies, and her support for her mother and brothers during the approaching storm.

"The House Blackwood is important?" Daella asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, and the two adults in the room exchanged a solemn nod. Too much important.

"It's better to have them on our side than on the opposite side." Her stepfather reacted with an impatient gaze, and she couldn't help but sighed.

"I understand, I will do it." Daella said quietly, her voice steady as she accepted the reality before her, and with a deep breath, she straightened her posture.

There was no turning back now.

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged glances, a mixture of pride and concern evident in their eyes, knowing the weight of the sacrifice that the only daughter of the heir to the Iron Throne was making at this moment.

"I'm immensely proud of you, thank you." The queen whispered, planting a tender kiss on her daughter's cheek. The princess visibly softened, reassured by her mother's affectionate gesture amidst the swirling emotions.

"I will promptly dispatch a raven to Lord Blackwood." Damon interrupted , his tone brooking no delay, and Rhaenyra shot him a stern look at his brusqueness, while Daella sighed anxiously in silent agreement beside them.

She was doing this for her mother.

— i don't know how to feel about this, but i hope you like it. <3 normally my chapters tend to be bigger, but as this is just the prologue i decided to make it smaller, and this is my first hotd storie so i'm kinda scared.

— benji soon, promise. 😔

ALSO: please make me requests for: reader x character.

wattpad.

tag: @marytvirgin

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine

Chapter 4

A/n: love this series, fem reader, yandere themes, platonic yandere Batfamily

Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs @starsdotalk @ghostdoodlen @nickey-diano @76lonelyspoons @m3vl0vesu @uknowimdumb

"What's this about Gordon?" Damian asks after arriving in the dining room, he was perplexed by her message, what on earth would they need to speak about you of all people?

"(Y/n) moved out." Barbara says biting the bullet.

There was a moment of silence as her words registered before chaos broke out.

"What do you mean moved out?" Dick asks putting down the bagel he was eating his eyes held disbelief, "I mean I just checked her room and she's gone." Barbara says making his stomach lurch.

"We missed her birthday." Tim speaks suddenly realizing, his mind working a mile a minute. Jason curses under his breath at the revelation, how could he be such an idiot?

"You're wrong she wouldn't leave like that." Dick shook his head, the thought of you simply disappearing sent a wave of deep-seated unease through the family, and something else, something much darker had been born in that moment within each of them.

"Alfred confirmed it." Barbara says softly trying not to upset Dick further than he was.

Cass stood still before signing, "How could we not have noticed?"

Damian having enough of the conversation pulled out his phone calling your number, only to be met with the same answer Barbara got when she tried, his brows furrowed as the automated voice told him the number was disconnected. "Her phone's off." He speaks a pit forming in his stomach,

The Manor was quieter than usual.

That's the first thing Bruce notices when he wakes up that morning, an almost empty quiet filled the halls as he went from his bedroom to the study, he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly and this bothered him to no end.

Alfred stood diligently by the marble counter top waiting for Bruce's instructions, "Good morning Alfred."

"Master Bruce." Alfred greeted him simply, rather curt for the old man, and Bruce notices this immediately, his mind racing on what he could have done to upset the man. "Is something wrong Alfred?"

"To be the world's greatest detective you can be incredibly dense." Alfred served him his coffee without another word and made Bruce feel like a child being scolded for something.

It wasn't until he walked by your room did his senses go off, it was much too quiet in there, knocking softly he found the door opening from the slightest touch. Alarm bells immediately start going off at just how empty it is, how void of life. He rushed downstairs, searching for Alfred to question him, when he saw his whole family gathered in the dining room.

They stare at him, all with that deer in a headlight look, "What?" He asks knowing something was up.

"(Y/n)'s gone." Dick speaks up, biting at his thumb, "And we missed her birthday." Jason adds on his guilt making his shoulders slump inward.

Bruce looks over to Alfred as if to confirm what he was told, the older man simply nods.

Meanwhile on the other side of Gotham, you're completely unaware of the chaos your absence is causing. Too busy enjoying your new life.

Bruce went to the cave immediately, checking the cameras for your form, he searched through a week of footage before he saw your graceful exit from the manor. A week. A fucking week you'd been gone and your own father hadn't noticed.

Bruce had felt like a true failure only a handful of times in his life, losing Jason, and now, you.

Only this time there was no Joker to blame, it was him. His fault his daughter felt the need to disappear without so much as a goodbye. The years of ignoring your presence simply because you were his 'easy child' the one he never had to worry about, the one who never made waves, come crashing down upon him, he rests his head on his hands, eyes never leaving the screen. "What have I done?" He speaks lowly, mind reeling from the shame of his inaction.

His blue eyes hardened at the sight of you on the screen, he could fix this, couldn't he? He just needed a second chance, he'd show you the love you deserved, the nurturing you needed, he didn't care that you were a legal adult now, (he winces at the thought of forgetting such an important birthday, he'd throw you the party of all parties once he got you home, he swore it.) you were his daughter, his youngest daughter, and you needed him no matter what you thought.

Dick Grayson prided himself on many things, one of which being his bond with his family, so to be faced with the reality that he wasn't the best big brother around, kind of shatters him. He refused to accept the fact that his, along with everyone else's actions, lead to your choice to abandon them, instead he reasoned, you were feeling rebellious, youthful energy and all that, he was sure once you got this out of your system you'd be right back where you belonged. Where he could keep an eye on you, a proper eye this time.

Jason fumes silent, pacing the kitchen, he feels like a cat is clawing at his skin from the inside, unable to do anything with his pent up frustration he grips the counter top hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He hated himself right now, hated how garbage he felt, you were only eighteen, all on your lonesome in a city like Gotham? It was enough to set the hairs on his neck on edge.

Tim was busy on his tablet, he was already searching the city's CCTV cameras for any trace of you, his fingers working so fast they cramped, sweat drips down his brow as he searched, unable to tear himself away from his task. He felt maybe just maybe if he found you, he could begin to make up for how shitty he'd treated you, begin to open up to you in the way you'd always wanted. He needed to find you, and based on the usually composed family's obvious panic, it needed to be fast.

Barbara busied herself with rummaging through your empty room for anything she could use to find you, if she just had the chance to explain herself, she's sure you'd understand, sure you'd look at her with that expression you had when you were younger, like she was your personal hero.

Cassandra finds herself staring out at the distant view of Gotham, her hands twitching at her sides as she struggles not to take action, sure she didn't have a bond with you like she did with the others but she still cared for you, from a distance, she felt it was safer as you were the only civilian in the family. A choice she thinks now was a mistake. Maybe if she'd let her walls down a little more, you'd have confided in her instead of leaving.

Damian, in his rage, wasted no time heading to the cave to suit up, there he found his Father, still leaning over the computer table. "What are you doing?" Bruce asks barley looking away from the screen. "What do you think? Going to find that idiot before she gets herself killed." He seethes yanking on his tactical gloves.

"Damian -"

"How dare she leave us- we are a family." He spits the word out like it's a curse, "You don't leave your family." He reiterates slamming his hands into the table holding various gadgets. "I'm going to find that fool and drag her back here." He promised.

"Just hold on for a moment." Bruce stands walking over to his son to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "We have no idea where she is, let us do some recon. Tim will find her address in no time, if she's still in Gotham we'll find her within the week."

Damian hesitantly agreed to his father's reasoning.

It takes them a week to find you, you were very good at hiding your tracks, using only cash, staying in shady areas because they weren't monitored, it's only when you post a selfie with some new friends do they lock your location down.

Tim took five minutes to himself to stare at the photo before alerting the family, he found it after all, he felt entitled to it, to the joy on your face, the other people in the picture made it easier to find you, first he found their names, then their addresses and used that along with the small bits of background he could see to triangulate your new address.

He'd never seen that look on your face, it was a casual cocky sort of grin, one that said you were genuinely enjoying yourself. He couldn't fathom how you were so happy without them, it sort of hurt his feelings, but at the same time he needed to see more of that smile, see what other expressions you made, he'd only ever seen that sad dejected look on your face, he huffs to himself, saving the picture for himself before sending the info to the group chat.

Bruce decided to let one of his kids do the interacting with you, feeling too ashamed to face you yet, he sends Dick, knowing you once looked up to him.

You're three hours into a horror movie marathon, courtesy of the box TV you stole off the back of a moving truck, when someone knocks at your door.

You don't pause the movie, using it as cover to tip toe towards the door, sure it was still early in the night, but everything was dangerous in Gotham.

You don't say a word, sneakily looking through the grimey peephole all you can make out is a tall dark haired man.

He knocks again causing you to flinch. Swiping knife out the drawer, you hide it behind your back before swinging open the door expecting the people you'd stolen the TV from or maybe one of the thugs you'd beaten black and blue, not Dick Grayson.

"Hey little bird." He greets like an old time friend, not the man who'd ignored you your entire relationship.

"How the fuck- what are you doing here?" You sigh revealing the knife as you rest your hand on your hip, exasperated by his mere presence. He eyes the knife before laughing, "I like the energy, good call living in this neighborhood." He invites himself inside, scrutinizing your apartment, a deep sigh leaving his lips, "You shouldn't be living like this-"

"Hold the fuck on." You point the knife at him accusingly, "You didn't know I existed a week ago, now you barge into my home," you emphasize with another point, "shit all over it and start lecturing me about how I should live?" You stare at him like he's grown another head before laughing, he friend stepping closer, "I'm ...I'm sorry, I know I forgot your birthday - we forgot, but you didn't need to run away-"

"I didn't run from shit." Crossing your arms, "I'm an adult, I moved out." You say pointedly.

"Be that as it may- you should have said something, do you have any idea how worried we've been?" He pleads, brows furrowed, "I know you're mad, you've every right to be, but this isn't safe." He gestures to your apartment. "I walked past a drug deal on the way up here ya know." He chides like he's scolding s child.

"Come back to the manor." He says softly, stepping closer once more, until he could touch your shoulder, "no need to leave the nest so soon." You stare at his hand, then him, before pointing the knife at him, your hand steady,

"Get the fuck outta my house."

Dick leaves reluctantly, he was determined to bring you home, thought you'd jump in his arms for a hug once he showed up, but you didn't, you looked at him with disgust, anger, and a hint of fear, he hated it. He wanted you to look up at him like the big brother he was, not like your enemy.

You're panting after the encounter, knife clattering to the ground, you follow shortly after, collapsing as your mind tried to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

It was a storm, so you latched on to the one feeling that would anchor you, rage.

You don't sleep that night. And it's a good thing because Damian is breaking through your window lock like it was the easiest thing, he enters your home, face deadset in a glare. "You left the manor for this shit hole?" He almost laughs, his hand on his sword makes you incredibly nervous. "What's it matter to you? Thought you'd be thrilled." You roll your eyes, too exhausted to deal with another one of them in such a short time period.

"You've disrupted the natural flow in the manor with this little stunt." He seethes, "I'm going to restore it." He states as if speaking a fact. "How prey tell do you intend on doing that, you massive twat?" He simply smirks before looking behind you, you turn around and see Jason leaning against the wall, his red hood mask on, obstructing his facial expression, making him all the more unnerving.

"You're a long way from home." Jason says kicking off the wall, moving to hover behind you, "Why are you here?! Okay I'm officially over this reunion, out." You point to the window they entered from.

"Oh we're leaving, just not without you." Jason chimes up his hand hovering over his guns, fingers twitching.

To your defense, you did try and run, but it was no use, they were on you faster than you could process, a sweet smelling cloth is pressed to your mouth, and as much as you fight it, eventually you need to breathe, it takes one good inhale for the chloroform to kick in, you slump in someone's hold you're unsure of which one and your world fades to black.

I

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

The Lost Condom

Synopsis: You were in the middle of a spicy time with your boyfriend, when something odd happened: the condom disappeared. Inside. Of. You.

The solution? Go to the hospital.

The problem? Your family didn't know about your relationship.

Pairing: Jon Kent X Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Only mention and slight description of genitals and sex, but nothing too explicit; All characters are aged up of course; English isn't my 1st language.

Word count: 1,8k.

Requested? Nah.

Extra notes: This isn't an original idea of mine, it's based on a real life story someone told me. Also the family finding out scene was inspired by this fanfic from @dccomicsimagines and this scene from Megamind. Also, eventually I will work on the asks waiting for me I swear 😭

General masterlist

So… You were in the middle of… Having fun… With your boyfriend… When suddenly, he said something that really confused you.

— Hmm… Babe… Where’s the condom? — Your head snapped back to look at him, since you were on all fours.

— Where's the ‘what’? — Your eyes were wide, unconsciously. Jon was blushing intensely, looking from your eyes to your entrance. He didn't know how to explain.

— I-I-I put it inside with the condom on, but now it's… Gone! — You narrowed your eyes. You watched him wrap and then enter you, you didn't feel him pull out at any moment, and even if he did, why would he tell you that he pulled out, took the condom off and then put it inside again secretly while you were still going at it?

You were both silent for a few seconds.

— Search for it! — You practically yelled at him, making him scramble to get off of you. You laid with your back down and legs open, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm down and not feel embarrassed. You felt him entering you with his fingers and searching around for minutes, grumbling and getting frustrated. The sensation was good… But you had bigger priorities at hand!

You huffed and changed positions a few times. A pillow underneath your butt, legs up, on all fours. Nothing worked. You even searched around the room and the bed, just to be sure. At some point, you both defeatedly decided it was best you go to the hospital.

The thing is, your relationship was still new, and no one in your family was aware. Lois and Clark already knew and approved, and you thought Cass suspected you were seeing someone, but you hadn't told them yet.

Especially Damian.

You and Jon knew each other years before Damian was even part of the family, since Bruce raised you since your birth — you were the product of one of his affairs, your biological mother didn't want to raise you, but she also didn't want to abort, so she and Bruce agreed that he would have you as soon as you were born — and he's best friend was Clark. Although, you didn't see each other much back then. It was after the Supersons became a team and besties that he started frequenting the manor more. You always had a childhood crush on each other — Jon thought you were beautiful and nice, and you thought he was cute and sweet, very different from the gross and rude boys from your school. —. Until you were each other's first kiss, then years later, first relationship, and first time. Of course, all in secret from Damian. The older family members only knew about your crush because of your physical language, but since you grew older and learned to hide, they assumed it was just a childish crush from the past.

Lois and Clark knew and approved, but they also always reminded you that you needed to tell Bruce soon, or at least Alfred, especially after you started being sexually active.

Unfortunately, the day came. Yes, you and Jon were old enough to have sex, but too young to be mature and brave enough to go to the hospital by yourselves. Lois was in another country for work, Clark was in the Watchtower in a League meeting, your dad was there too. Leaving the 2nd best option: Alfred — the best would be Lois, then Alfred, Clark, Cass, and then you would have to discuss which one of your other family members would it be.

Since you were in Metropolis — again, no one knew. More privacy wink wink —, Jon flew you back to Gotham, and you both almost cheered when you realized you were completely home alone, except for Alfred, of course.

Poor Alfred knew something was up when you suddenly were back from your “shopping trip”, with messy hair and clothes, red face and Superboy looking almost sick. He released a long sigh.

— Mx/Miss/Master (Y/N). Young Mr. Kent… — You cleared your throat.

— Alfred… We need help…

After you explained everything, Alfred looked ten years older. He didn't comment on anything, but his face showed how unimpressed he was. He just gestured for you to follow him to the garage, took the keys and started driving.

— Let me warn Master Bruce while we are-

— NO! — You yelled, started. He looked at you through the rearview mirror disapprovingly.

— Should I remind you that he will see the hospital bill and go after the truth? — You bit your lip.

— No, I know that. Just… Can't we pay on cash? — You smiled at him hopefully and nervously, but it was more like a grimace. Alfred was silent. You groaned. — I will tell him okay! Tonight! — Jon’s eyes snapped to yours, wide. — Relax! You're not gonna die!

— Yeah, until Damian whips out a kryptonite sword… — He groaned, hiding his burning face in your neck. You huffed, now wasn't time for him to be adorable.

— He doesn't have a kryptonite sword. Dad didn't let him do it. He would have to build it first. That would give him enough time to calm down. — Jon looked at you, indignant. Alfred cleared his throat.

— While we're there, I can't make any promises that if your father asks, I will hide the truth. He will know. — You and your boyfriend groaned, rubbing your faces with your hands.

— Yes, Alfred, I know…

Two hours later, you were finally laid down in position for the doctor to begin the procedure. Since if wasn't anything serious, you were on the emergency and there was only a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients outside. Alfred was sitting just outside, waiting, while Jon was standing by your side, holding your hand, as if you were about to give birth. The doctor was amused by your story, and her jokes helped you calm down.

She searched around you for a few minutes, the instrument she was using inside you being a little uncomfortable. Jon was silently horrified when he saw, you were startled too, but maintained the composure.

— AHA! Found it! It was really deep inside, almost on your cervix! — When she pulled out the condom, you both let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding.

You quickly put your clothes on again, you and Jon chatting as everything seemed lighter, and then left.

What you didn't know was that when Bruce got home and you and Alfred weren't there, it made him call, finding out just that you were in the hospital. Alfred refused to say much more than reassure him that it wasn't urgent and that he would soon know, thus he didn't have to crazily drive all the way there. That didn't stop him from alerting all your siblings.

When you got home, your whole family was there.

— Jon?! What're you doing here? — Alfred kept a straight face. Wow, he really wasn't going to help.

— Hmmm... — Jon subtly and subconsciously hid behind you. You shifted from one foot to another. Damian got up with a threatening scowl. You just came from the hospital. With a kryptonian.

— Kent! If you hurt my sibling I will-

— I didn't! — Jon almost yelled, then covered his face with his hands.

— Then, what is happenning here? — Bruce got up with a raised brow, analyzing the situation.

You thought for a moment. You either told them now and made things easier, or you spent all the way to dinner with them bothering you to tell. You could take it, Jon couldn't.

You took a deep breath.

— JonandIwerehavingsexwhenthecondomdisappearedinsideofmewecouldn'tfinditanywheresoweaskedAlfredforhelpandwenttothehospital.

They blinked.

— … What?

You huffed.

— Jon and I were having sex, when the condom disappeared inside of me. We couldn't find it anywhere, so we asked Alfred for help and went to the hospital. — You said, slower this time, although uma lower, more abashed tone.

Silence.

— … But… It was stuck inside? Weren't you wet, though…? — Tim's analysis broke the silence.

— SEX?! — Dick and Jason exclaimed.

— YOU WERE HAVING SEX WITH MY SIBLING?!

— Knew it. — Cass smiled and nodded, proud of herself.

Bruce heaved a sigh and sat down again.

— I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS! — Damian threw Tim's coffee mug in your direction and Jon zoomed in front of you. The mug broke. Jon had a sheepish expression.

— Tim, go grab kryptonite. — Jason ordered and got up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the shelf where he kept his guns. Dick held him back while Damian threw a flower vase at Jon.

— No! Don't do that, Tim. — Dick ordered back. Tim shook his head.

— I wasn't going to anyway… — He mumbled. Damian threw the center table.

— YOU ACTED BEHIND MY BACK! YOU TRAITOR! YOU- OUCH! PENNYWORTH STOP! — Alfred tutted, pinching his ear.

— I'm sure civilized conversations don't involve breaking the forniture. — Alfred shot a pointed look at Bruce. — Master Bruce! Say something! — Your dad just kept gazing at you and your boyfriend.

Cass sighed, stepping toward Bruce and sitting beside him.

— (Y/N)’s happy. He’s good. They're careful. — Bruce nodded, finally showing some reaction and looking pleased. Jason stopped struggling against Dick and looked at you.

— I don't care. I'm going to kill him. — Damian growled, starting to pace around the room in anger. Jon silently sighed in relief that Damian kept his distance by being on the other side of the room, the couch and the whole family serving as a barrier. You stepped forward.

— It's not casual. We've been together for almost two months now. — Everyone but Alfred and Cass gasped. Damian burned holes in Jon’s head with his eyes and your dad looked at you, masking his mix of emotions.

Cass tsk.

— So clueless. Many signs. — She shook her head.

— (Y/N), why didn't you tell us before? — Dick asked carefully, walking in your direction and stopping in front of you. Jon fiddled behind you. You shrugged.

— Didn't want to deal with you all while we were just starting things. Especially if it didn't work out.

— When were you planning to tell us? — You pouted.

— I don't know… In a month or two? You guys probably would find out by yourselves. — You shrugged.

— You've been sneaking out a lot… — Tim spoke up for the second time, catching everyone’s attention. He was fiddling with his laptop, likely doing his own investigation. The ones closest to Tim looked from the monitor to you again.

— When did you go to Metropolis?! — Jason exclaimed, indignantly.

— Hehe…

Damian growled.

— So that's why you've been ditching me?! — Damian pointed a finger at Jon, who scratched the back of his head.

— Surprise...? — Jon weakly sang the word.

Bruce cleared his throat.

— So that's why Clark’s been acting like he was happy he knew something I didn't… — He got up and pointed at you. — No more sneaking out. Ask permission before going anywhere. — You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. — Either that or you're grounded. — You pursed your lips and nodded in defeat. — Now we will talk about birth control…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's patience pays off in the form of finally getting to be intimate with his wife. Neither of you quite know how to handle Rose's first day of daycare, and a simple email reminds him of something long forgotten.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When Bradley set the alarm on his phone for exactly six weeks after Rose was born, he meant it as a joke more than anything else. There wasn't a day where the two of you weren't both up between midnight and one in the morning, feeding and burping the baby so she could make it through the rest of the night. You were just pulling an old tee shirt over your lovely tits and getting back in bed when the alarm started blaring. 

"Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley held his phone up for you to take a look. The alarm was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum. You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. 

"It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

Bradley held out his arm so you could get cozy and curl up on his chest, and you were there in an instant. But your hand was resting lower on his abs than usual. His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

Your words were accompanied by your hand sliding lower, and Bradley grunted your name. "Are you serious?" It was late, but he was already in the mood, cock getting hard as you nudged him with your knee. "Please be serious." 

He swore your voice was the hottest thing he'd ever heard as you whispered, "I'm serious," before slipping your hand inside his boxer briefs. He was bouncing against your palm, eager for your touch, and of course you didn't disappoint. Your fingers wrapped around his cock as you gasped. "You're really ready to go."

Six weeks didn't seem so bad in theory. He'd been separated from you for longer lengths of time for deployments in the past, but this had been so much worse. You were always right in front of him in various states of undress with milk dripping from your tits. How was he supposed to be normal now?

He was sweating as he whispered, "I'm always ready to go for you." You met his gaze, licked your lips and leaned down to suck on his cock, but he had to stop you. He wouldn't last ten seconds in this state. "No, no, no, please," he rasped, tugging on you gently until you were straddling his waist and your lips were hovering over his. "I really want to feel your pussy."

Your lips brushed against his as you said, "Whatever you want, Roo," while his cock hung out of his underwear and tapped against your core. You ducked your head and rubbed your wetness against his tip as you murmured, "I just hope this still feels good for you."

Before he could respond, you guided yourself down around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, colors dancing behind his eyelids. You bottomed out with your soft hands braced against his chest, and he had to hold you in place by your hips as he panted, "Holy shit." He opened his eyes to find you perched atop him with an apprehensive look on your face while his cock was buried deep in your pussy. "There's a strong possibility I'm going to finish in less than a minute. Just putting that out there right now."

You shrugged and asked, "But does it feel good?"

God, he wanted to reassure you that you were still the only thing he needed, but all he could do was guide you along slowly with his hands gripping your hips and moan, "Your pussy feels like heaven." Instantly, your mouth was on his neck, sucking a mark into his skin as you bounced up and down on his cock. "Oh, fuck!"

"I don't care how fast you cum," you whispered before licking his ear. "I just want it to be good for you."

The thing was, the worst day with you was still better than any day with anyone else, and sex was the same way. It was never not good. It was always what he wanted.

Just as he got one big hand on your ass and managed to roll you onto your back, he realized it was pretty much all over. He also reminded himself that a creampie was completely out of the question right now as he held your ankles up in the air and watched his cock slip in and out of your pussy while you giggled and moaned.

"Roo," you crooned softly, pulling that tee shirt up to reveal your enlarged tits, and Bradley had to yank himself free of your body with a snap of his hips. Barely in time, he jerked off onto your belly, and then you guided him closer by his shoulders and kissed him. "Wow. That was fast. You're never like this after a long deployment."

He knew he was blushing as he grunted, "I tried to warn you. Deployments are different somehow." 

You kissed him between his sentences and played with his hair. "How are they different?"

He ran his nose along your cheek and whispered, "It's like, I've got some residual anger in my veins when I return home after they kept me away from you for so long. But after Rosie was born, it was all pure happiness. Nothing was going to hold back that orgasm, no matter what I did. You've been here with me the whole time, tempting me with little snacks like blowjobs and riding my leg, but I couldn't have the whole fucking meal until now."

"You're ridiculous," you giggled as he moved lower down your body, smiling at his cum on your rooster tattoo.

"I actually thought that was a pretty good analogy," he whispered before kissing your clit, and your giggles immediately faded into a whimper. "Now let me have dessert."

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

"Should we buy condoms?" you asked, making a shopping list on Sunday morning while Bradley flew Rose around the island like she was a fighter jet. You were heading back to work tomorrow, and Rose was starting daycare, and you wanted to have everything you'd need for the next week so you didn't have to keep running to the store.

Bradley paused and gave you a disgusted look. "Sweetheart. We don't use condoms. We used a condom exactly one time. The very first time we had sex. Since then, we haven't used condoms. Ever."

"It was just a suggestion," you said, holding up your hands in surrender.

"I don't want us to use condoms."

"I hear you, loud and clear," you told him, crossing that item off the shopping list immediately. "Then I guess I should fill my prescription for birth control."

Bradley lifted Rose a little higher and zoomed her around again before he said, "Only if you want to."

Now you were giving him a concerned look. "If you don't want to use condoms, then we need to do something."

He dipped Rose down almost to the floor before lifting her back up again and kissing her cheek. "We had sex about ten times in the past two days. I can just keep pulling out." Your silence eventually had him turning to look at you as he cradled the baby against his chest. "What?"

"That's just a ticking time bomb, Bradley. I'll pick up the pill tomorrow after work."

Then you spent the rest of the evening pumping and nursing Rose until it felt like your breasts were going to fall off. Bradley put her down in her crib while you packed two work lunches for the first time in what felt like ages. You got everything lined up on the counter for the morning, already a little antsy about running late for your first day back.

"You coming?"

Bradley was reaching for your hand as you plugged the iPad in on the counter so your parents could look at Rose essentially doing nothing and yet freak out about it over FaceTime for an hour tomorrow night.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

You thought he meant he was ready for bed, but he lured you into the bathroom where the tub was full and there were candles lit on the vanity.

"I thought we could take a bath together," he murmured, and you immediately started to undress. You hadn't taken a bath in months, and Bradley laughed as you practically dove into the water. He eased himself down into the tub with you, and you wrapped yourself around him. "So this was a good idea then?"

"The best idea," you sighed. "I missed this."

You could feel his lips on your forehead and hair as he stroked his rough fingers down your back beneath the water. "Are you excited to go back to work?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "Kind of missed Bickel and the lab, and I think I left a mess of folders on my desk that I forgot to clean up."

He was silent for a few seconds, the only sound was Tramp's claws tapping the tile as he walked around. "I'm a little nervous about Rose being in daycare."

"She'll be with Jeremiah," you reminded him. "I've heard so many good things about the daycare, Roo." You kissed along his Adam's apple and whispered, "But I love that you're nervous. You're such a good dad."

He groaned softly. "Just want my girls safe and happy."

"I just want my husband safe and happy."

Bradley tilted his head back and looked at you through narrowed eyes. He had his hands on your waist as he said, "I feel pretty safe right now. Happy, too. But you know what would make me even happier?"

Slowly, you eased your body away from his and straddled his hips beneath the water. "I think I do know," you whispered, reaching for his hands and guiding them up to your breasts. You were tired and sore, but his eyes positively lit up as he gave you a little squeeze.

A droplet of milk formed on your nipple as Bradley moaned, "You're too good to me." Then his lips met your nipple, swirling around as he sucked on you. 

Maybe he wasn't the only one with the lactation kink. You threaded your fingers in his hair, tugging softly and whispering, "You're such a good daddy," until you were aching with need as his mouth grew more demanding. You held out as long as you could while he drained you, but eventually you whimpered his name, and he met your gaze.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you started to stand, licking your lips.

All you told him was, "Get ready to pull out again," before the two of you ended up fucking on the bath mat on the floor.

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

"Jesus," Bradley groaned when he climbed out of bed the next morning. His knees and back felt like he got hit by a bus as he watched you prance across the room as Rose started crying down the hall. "Fuck."

You straightened your glasses and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm almost thirty-eight," he replied, voice raspy from sleep. "I'm definitely too old to be having sex on the bathroom floor."

"You didn't complain about it at all last night when it was happening."

He watched you walk out of the room as he stretched. "Well, you got me there," he muttered to himself. A minute later, he wandered into the nursery where you were already feeding Rose, and he gave you both a kiss before going to the kitchen to start the coffee. He made you some avocado toast and inhaled a bowl of cereal, and then he burped the baby and got her dressed so you could eat.

"You're just so fucking cute," he whispered, kissing her bare belly as she cooed. "My god, you're adorable. You better behave for your first day of daycare. No flirting with all the little boys."

Then it really hit him that his daughter would be in daycare all day instead of with you. Once she was dressed, he picked her up and snuggled her against his chest as tears burned his eyes. Maybe it would be better if he called in sick today instead of having her start daycare the same day you went back to your lab. He felt strangely guilty about someone else playing with her all day.

"Bradley? You're not dressed yet."

You were standing in the doorway when he turned, and he was actually relieved to see you weren't wearing the maternity tent. "You look hot," he whispered, eyeing up your snug pants as you tucked your shirt in.

You groaned. "I need to lose like fifteen pounds. It looks lumpy." He wanted to argue with you, but you immediately said, "Get dressed so we aren't late."

Rose was just snuggling up for her post breakfast nap as he said, "I'm thinking about staying home today."

"No," you said, voice firm. "I knew you were going to do this, and I love you very much for it, but we need to get into our new work routine, and that includes daycare for Rose."

Bradley pouted as you pried the baby out of his hands and pushed him with your knee until he left the room. He got dressed and carried all of Rose's gear out to the red Bronco while you buckled her in. Then he buckled you in as well, and the three of you were on your way to base.

"I hate this," he muttered. "I should probably just retire."

"You can't," you told him calmly as he approached the guard gates. "You need another four years and two months to get your pension."

But you were all talk, because when the time came to actually leave Rose, you had tears in your eyes and one tracking along your cheek as you kissed her. Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug as you whispered, "Okay. I think you should retire, Roo."

He sighed and rubbed soft circles against your back as you finally let one of the daycare instructors take Rose, and then he silently walked you to your office door where you hugged him until he would almost certainly be late getting to the tower.

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

"You're back," Cat said, voice laced with relief as you walked into the lab with your computer. 

"I'm back," you sighed. "Rose is in daycare."

To your extreme embarrassment, you started sobbing with your laptop slipping from your fingers. Cat took it and set it down on the counter and collected you in a hug, and you let yourself cry on her shoulder.

"I don't even know why I'm sad," you gasped. "I was looking forward to coming back to work."

"Mom hormones are stupid," Cat whispered. "And unpredictable. Just go with it."

So you did. You let yourself feel guilty and angry and confused until your tears tapered off. At least Bradley was feeling similarly today, and you knew it. Eventually you wiped at your cheeks on your own, but your breasts were already hurting again which made you realize Rose would need a bottle soon. You were sad you weren't the one who would be feeding her. You were going to have to pump in your office alone, and that made you even sadder.

"If there's an issue, someone from the daycare will call you," Cat said smoothly. "And you can always stop by at lunchtime to check on her."

You nodded and finally turned your computer on. "I know. It's just weird to be here when she's not."

"Try to enjoy the baby phase. Pretty soon you'll be looking for a reliable babysitter for nights and weekends just like I am," Cat murmured, sitting down next to you at her computer.

"Nope. I'm never going out again," you said, making her laugh. "What do you need a sitter for?"

She was silent for a few seconds, and you knew her well enough now to know you shouldn't press. You waited her out while you wiped your final stray tears away and entered your credentials into your computer. "I need someone to watch Jer for my promotion ceremony."

You gasped. "Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yeah. This Saturday."

"Why didn't you text me? We can watch him!"

"Well... I need a sitter for some additional evenings, too." Her dark eyes were more vulnerable than usual. "Jer and I are moving in with Jake. And I need time to pack our things. I just decided yesterday."

You had to stifle a scream as you gaped at her, wide eyed. This is exactly what Jake wanted, but you'd been afraid he'd never get it. He wanted the marriage, the step-dad duties, all of it, and this seemed like a step in that direction. But Cat was so stubborn, you forced yourself to remain calm right now. 

"Well, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Bradley and I are available if you'd like to drop Jeremiah off at our house on Saturday."

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered, typing away on her computer with a smile on her face.

By lunchtime, you were so antsy to see what Rose was up to, you were practically running toward the daycare building with your sandwich in your hands. If you ate while you checked on her, you'd be able to make it back in time for your group meeting. But someone else was rushing for the double doors at the same time, and you bumped into a firm body.

"I'm so sorry," you said, looking up at him before bursting into laughter when you recognized your own husband.

"You couldn't wait until the end of the day either?" he asked, ushering you inside, slightly out of breath.

"No," you confirmed, "I couldn't. Like I can't stop wondering what she's doing? And did she finish her bottles? Is she still hungry? Did she nap?"

Bradley groaned before kissing you hard on the lips. "That's exactly how I've been feeling all day."

When one of the daycare teachers opened the door and asked if she could help you with something, both of you blurted out at the same time, "We want to see our daughter."

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

Bradley thought you both did pretty well today. You and he made it almost four hours before having to run over to check on Rose, and now he was taking the fastest shower he could in the locker room so he could go back and pick her up for the evening.

"There's my Nugget," he said with a sigh as soon as he picked her up from the play mat where she was having tummy time. He swore she smiled as soon as he kissed her soft cheek, and he snuggled her against his chest.

"Do you want to put her in the stroller?" the woman who ran the program asked him, but he shook his head.

"I like holding her," he whispered, giving Rose one more kiss before picking up the diaper bag and stroller in his free hand. You told him you'd meet him at the Bronco, so he very carefully made his way there with his daughter cradled in one arm. The parking garage was clearing out, and he set everything on the asphalt so he could unlock the doors.

He looked up when he heard your voice, only to find you running down the aisle toward Jake's car where the other man was also unlocking his doors. You threw your arms around him, and Jake caught you in his embrace. Bradley was not even slightly concerned at the high pitched screech you let out as he buckled Rose carefully into her car seat, wrapping his fingers around her tiny hand and giving her a little kiss.

Then he tossed everything else into the back and waited for you while he checked the messages on his phone. Most of the emails were just junk, but he did see an ad for Mother's Day.

"Oh. Shit." He hadn't celebrated that holiday since he was in high school. Other than signing whichever card you picked out for your own mom before you mailed it, he hadn't given the holiday any thought at all. And that was sad, because it was an important one. "Rosie, we need to do something special for Mommy," he muttered. "We can talk about it later, okay? Shh, here she comes."

"Roo!" you gasped, running for his arms the way you had Jake's, but unlike Jake, he got a kiss. "Guess what Cat told me today."

He leaned down for another kiss, making you smile before he said, "She and Jeremiah came to their senses, and they're leaving Jake?"

"No! They're moving in with him!"

"That poor woman," Bradley muttered, wrapping his arms around you just as Jake drove past, flipping him off before waving. "She could do so much better."

"Be nice, Bradley."

But he wasn't really listening any longer as you ran your hand down along his abs and patted the top of his gym shorts. Then suddenly your hand was gone as you climbed in the backseat with Rose and said, "I think I'll ride back here with her."

He took the seat belt from your hand and frowned. "Who's going to keep me company then?" But you ignored him in favor of the baby, and he couldn't blame you one bit.

"I missed you today," you told her, tickling her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her forehead, and Bradley buckled your seatbelt. When he started driving, you said, "Don't forget to stop at the pharmacy so I can pick up my birth control."

"Absolutely," he replied, relieved you seemed to have dropped the condom conversation. "And when we get home, we can test it out before I make dinner."

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

He gets a max score for being eager, but he loses points for thinking he could handle the bathroom floor. I need him to make Mother's Day so special in the next chapter. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 21

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[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟵 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N's and Matt's babies are finally born after 9 long months of waiting; OR, where Matt is finally a dad.

WARNING: Pregnancy, crying, mentions of labor, pain.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I cried while writing this one, it totally melted my heart 🥺

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The contractions hit Y/N like a tidal wave, her breath catching in her throat as she gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, her knuckles turning white. The pain radiated from her lower back, wrapping around to her abdomen in tight, relentless waves. She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

They had been waiting for this moment for nine long months, and yet, now that it was here, the reality of it was almost overwhelming. She tried to call out for Matt, her voice wavering, but the pain was so intense that it felt as if it was squeezing the sound right out of her.

Matt was in the living room, his eyes glued to his laptop as he reviewed some emails. It had been a busy few weeks leading up to the due date, and he was trying to get ahead of things before the twins arrived.

The sound of Y/N’s voice, strained and filled with pain, cut through his concentration like a knife. His head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. He leaped from the couch, knocking his laptop to the floor, and sprinted into the kitchen, his heart racing with panic.

"Honey? What’s wrong? Is it- oh God, it’s happening, isn't it?" Matt’s voice was a mixture of excitement and sheer panic as he reached her side. He placed a gentle but trembling hand on her back, his eyes wide with concern as he watched her struggle to breathe through the contraction. "Breathe, baby, breathe. Do you need water? No, wait- sit down. Should you sit? Or should you lie down? Oh my God, I should call 911!"

Y/N squeezed his hand, her face scrunched up in pain, but she managed a breathless laugh.

"Matt, relax... it’s okay. Just-" She interrupted her own sentence when a new wave of pain invaded her whole body.

"Come here, sweetheart." Matt gently guided Y/N to the edge of the kitchen chair, his expression shifting from sheer panic to a momentary calmness, trying to ground himself in the situation.

He knelt down in front of her, his hands trembling slightly as he placed them on her knees. His eyes, wide with worry, locked onto hers as he tried to steady his breathing.

"How long has this been going on?" His voice held a perfect mix of calmness and nerves, the gravity of the situation starting to dawn on him. He reached out instinctively, his hand gently resting on her stomach, feeling the tension in her muscles.

"Oh God, I don’t know." Y/N replied, wincing as another contraction hit, this one even stronger. She grasped Matt's hand tightly, her grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers. "Maybe an hour or so... but it’s so much worse right now."

Matt’s eyes widened, the shock and concern evident in his expression. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

"Okay, okay, don’t panic." His voice was a bit firmer now, though a subtle tremble betrayed his nerves. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring as he looked deeply into her eyes. "We need to time these contractions, okay? See if they’re far apart or getting closer together..."

Y/N nodded weakly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to focus on his words. Matt quickly grabbed his phone, fumbling with it slightly as he opened the timer app. He sat back on his heels, his eyes darting between the screen and Y/N's face, waiting for the next contraction to hit.

When it did, she squeezed his hand again, and he hit the timer. They both watched the seconds tick by, the silence in the room only broken by Y/N's labored breathing. The contraction passed, and Matt stopped the timer, noting the time with a furrowed brow.

"Okay, that was... three minutes." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. "We’re close, Y/N. We need to get you to the hospital now."

He helped her to her feet, moving with a newfound urgency but still managing to maintain a steady calmness, knowing he had to be strong for her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they made their way out to the car, his determination stronger than ever.

He opened the passenger door of their car, gently easing her into the seat before rushing to the driver’s side.

"Matt, the... the bag."

"Right! The bag!" Matt practically yelled as if suddenly remembering the concept of bag. "I'm gonna be right back, baby!"

He darted back to the house, running around the kitchen like a man possessed, searching for the hospital bag they had packed weeks ago. He spotted it by the door and grabbed it, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to get back to Y/N.

"Here, I’ve got the bag! And... what else? Do we need snacks? Maybe you want something to eat before we go?"

Y/N's response was a groan as another contraction hit, stronger this time.

"Okay, no snacks, got it. We’re going to the hospital now, I promise. I’ll get you there, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to you or the babies, okay?"

As he started the car, his mind raced. He had planned for this moment, had rehearsed it in his head a thousand times, but now that it was happening, he felt completely unprepared. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and he glanced over at Y/N, who was trying to remain calm despite the pain.

Matt hated seeing her in so much pain, his heart aching with every sharp intake of breath she made.

"Okay, okay, we’re going. We’re going." He muttered to himself as he pulled out of the driveway, his voice a mix of determination and barely contained panic. The streets of Los Angeles blurred past them as he sped toward the hospital, his mind racing with all the things he needed to do.

"Siri!" He suddenly barked at the car’s dashboard, his voice urgent. "Send a text to Chris and Nick."

"What would you like to say?" Siri responded in its calm, robotic tone.

"Um... Uh..." Matt hesitated, trying to form a coherent sentence as he glanced nervously at Y/N, who was breathing heavily beside him. "Tell them... we’re on our way to the hospital. Y/N's in labor. Get there by tomorrow morning. And don’t panic like I am because... just get there!"

"Sending message to Chris and Nick." Siri confirmed, and Matt let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he continued driving.

Y/N chuckled softly, despite the pain, and Matt shot her a quick, incredulous look.

"What? What's funny?"

"You are." She managed to say between contractions. "You're... adorable when you're freaking out."

Matt’s face flushed as he gave her a sheepish grin.

"I'm just trying to keep it together here, baby. You’re the one doing all the hard work."

"Trust me... I know." She replied, wincing as another contraction rolled through her.

Finally, they pulled up to the hospital entrance, and Matt jumped out of the car, nearly forgetting to put it in park in his haste to get to Y/N's side. He waved frantically at a nurse standing nearby, who immediately came over with a wheelchair.

"She's in labor! It's happening! We need to- she needs- help!" Matt's words tumbled out in a rush as he helped Y/N into the wheelchair, his voice rising in pitch with every word.

The nurse smiled reassuringly, clearly used to panicked fathers-to-be, and guided them inside.

"Don’t worry, we'll take good care of her. Just follow me."

As they were whisked away to the delivery room, Matt's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of what was about to happen. He couldn't believe that in just a few hours, they would finally meet their babies.

Once in the right room, Y/N was settled onto the bed, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts as the contractions intensified. Matt stayed by her side, clutching her hand as if it was his only lifeline. He leaned in close, his voice trembling but filled with love as he whispered,

"You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes locking onto his.

"I need you to stay calm, okay? We've got this... together."

Matt nodded, swallowing hard as he brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"Together. I’m right here with you, every step of the way."

The room buzzed with activity, doctors and nurses moving around with practiced efficiency, but all Matt could focus on was Y/N’s face, her eyes squeezed shut as she battled through another contraction.

Time seemed to warp in the delivery room. Minutes stretched into hours, the pain of each contraction relentless, only broken by brief moments of respite. Matt stayed by Y/N’s side, his voice soft and steady as he encouraged her, even though his own nerves were frayed to the core. He watched the monitors anxiously, every beep and flicker, causing his heart to jump.

"Matt." Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion as another contraction hit. "I can’t... I don’t know if I can do this."

Matt’s heart broke at the sight of her so vulnerable, so exhausted. He took a deep breath, brushing a few strands of hair away from her sweaty forehead and leaning in close, his lips brushing her temple.

"You’re the strongest person I know." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You’ve got this, baby. I’m right here with you. And in the end, everything will be worth it, yeah?"

Hours later, after what felt like a lifetime of labor, the doctor finally said the words they had been waiting to hear.

"It's time to push."

Y/N gritted her teeth, her entire body trembling with the effort as she bore down, Matt’s hand in hers, his words of encouragement a constant in the whirlwind of pain and exhaustion. The room seemed to close in around them, everything else fading away as they focused on bringing their babies into the world.

"Breath." Matt murmured, his hand gently rubbing her tense shoulders. "Just focus on your breathing. In and out, slow and steady. You got this, sweet girl. It's almost ending."

The first cry shattered the tension in the room, a tiny wail that echoed in Matt’s ears like the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He watched in awe as the doctor carefully lifted their first baby - a tiny, wriggling girl - into the air.

Time seemed to freeze as the nurse quickly wrapped her in a blanket and handed her to Y/N. Matt felt tears well up in his eyes as he looked down at his daughter for the first time. She was perfect, with a shock of dark hair and rosy cheeks, her eyes squeezed shut as she continued to cry.

"She’s beautiful." Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face as she cradled their daughter against her chest, gluing her small head to her chin. Matt leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, his own tears finally spilling over.

But the moment was short-lived as Y/N was hit with another wave of contractions. The doctor quickly reminded them that there was still one more baby to bring into the world, taking their daughter away from them so Y/N could concentrate.

"One more, honey. Just one more. You can do this. You're so strong, I know you can." Y/N, though exhausted, steeled herself for the final round, and with Matt’s unwavering support, she pushed again.

Minutes later, another cry filled the room, this one just as heart-wrenching and beautiful as the first. Their son was born, his tiny fists clenched as he wailed with the full force of his little lungs.

"I don't... I don't know how to hold- Oh, okay." The nurse placed him in Matt’s arms, ignoring his sentence. He stared down at his son in awe, his arms trembling with fear of holding him in the wrong way, or worse, dropping him.

The baby boy was the spitting image of his sister, with the same dark hair and tiny features, though his cries were slightly less intense.

"He's... he's so small." Matt whispered in awe.

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he carried his son over to Y/N - who was already holding their girl again -, his heart swelling with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. He gently placed their son in Y/N’s free arm, and for the first time, they looked down at their twins together, their hearts filled with an indescribable mixture of joy, relief, and pure, unconditional love.

"We did it." Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she looked up at Matt, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They’re here, and they’re perfect."

Matt could only nod, his throat too tight with emotion to speak. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his daughter’s tiny forehead, then his son’s, feeling the warmth of their little bodies against his skin. They were so small, so fragile, and yet so full of life.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over the quiet scene. Y/N was resting peacefully, her exhaustion from the previous night’s labor evident in the serene expression on her face as she slept. The twins were nestled in their bassinets beside the bed, their tiny chests rising and falling in a synchronized rhythm, the only sounds in the room being their soft breathing.

Matt sat in the armchair near the window, his eyes moving between Y/N and their newborns, a small smile playing on his lips. He had hardly slept, but he didn’t mind. He was too filled with wonder, still wrapping his mind around the fact that he was now a father to two perfect little beings. The magnitude of the moment wasn’t lost on him, and every time he looked at his family, his heart swelled with a mixture of pride and overwhelming love.

Just then, a soft knock on the door drew Matt’s attention. He stood up quickly, careful not to disturb Y/N, and opened the door to find Nick and Chris standing in the hallway. Both of his brothers looked a little disheveled, their hair slightly messy from a night of restless sleep. Chris held a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and Nick had a stuffed animal - a small bear with a yellow bow - tucked under his arm. The moment they saw Matt, their faces broke into wide grins.

"Hey, Dad." Nick joked softly, giving Matt a one-armed hug while still holding the bear. "How’s it feel?"

Matt chuckled, the sound low and full of affection.

"Surreal." He admitted, stepping back to let them in. "Come on, they’re right over here."

Chris was the first to approach the bassinets, his breath catching as he looked down at the sleeping twins. He placed the bouquet on a nearby table, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out, but then hesitated, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful scene. Nick followed, standing beside him, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of his new niece and nephew.

"They’re so tiny." Chris whispered, his voice cracking as he looked over at Matt, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Oh, my God, Matt... they’re so small."

Nick nodded, his usual bravado momentarily stripping away as he gazed at the twins.

"Yeah." He added, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "How is this possible?"

Matt felt a lump form in his throat, seeing the raw emotion on his brothers’ faces. He watched as Chris finally let out a shaky breath and reached down, his fingers gently brushing against his niece’s tiny hand. The touch seemed to undo him completely, and within seconds, tears spilled over, streaming down his cheeks.

"Chris." Matt said softly, his voice full of understanding as he placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. "It’s okay, man."

But Chris couldn’t find the words to respond. Instead, he just nodded, tears continuing to fall as he stood there, overwhelmed by the sight of his niece and nephew. He had always been the emotional one, the heart-on-his-sleeve brother, and in this moment, he felt everything with an intensity that was impossible to contain.

Nick, on the other hand, was struggling to maintain his composure. He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. He wanted to be strong, to keep it together, but seeing Chris break down and knowing just how much this moment meant, even he couldn’t hold back completely. He let out a shaky breath, wiping his eyes quickly.

Matt noticed Nick’s struggle and gave him a reassuring smile.

"It’s okay to cry, you know." He said quietly, his own eyes misting over. "They’re your niece and nephew. This is a big moment."

Nick managed a small, watery laugh, shaking his head.

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

Matt grinned, pulling both of his brothers into a tight hug. The three of them stood there for a moment, embracing each other, their silent bond stronger than ever before. When they finally pulled away, Chris wiped at his eyes, sniffling a little as he turned back to the twins.

"Can we hold them?" Chris asked, his voice still shaky but filled with awe.

"Of course." Matt replied, his heart warming at the thought of his brothers meeting their niece and nephew properly. He carefully lifted his son from the bassinet, gently cradling the tiny bundle before handing him to Chris. "This is your nephew." He said, watching as Chris took the baby with the utmost care, as if he were the most delicate thing in the world.

Chris’s breath hitched as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

"Hey, little guy." He whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m your Uncle Chris. You’re going to be so loved, I promise."

Nick took his niece from Matt, holding her close, his eyes wide with wonder as he gazed at her tiny features.

"Hi, princess." He murmured, his voice soft. "I’m your Uncle Nick. And don’t worry, I’ll always have your back. You’re in good hands."

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, but when the little girl's tiny hand grasped his finger, Nick’s composure slipped. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears, but a few escaped, trailing down his cheeks.

"They're perfect... You and Y/N did good, Matt."

Matt felt his own eyes sting with tears as he watched his brothers, their love for his children evident in every trembling breath, every tear they tried to hold back.

"They really are." He whispered, his voice filled with pride as he watched his brothers bond with their niece and nephew.

The soft rustling of sheets drew Matt’s attention back to the bed, and he saw Y/N slowly stirring, her eyes fluttering open. She looked groggy, her movements sluggish as she tried to orient herself.

"Matt?" She called out, her voice hoarse and weak, a faint frown creasing her brow as she tried to sit up.

Matt was by her side in an instant, his hand gently brushing her hair back.

"I'm here, baby." He said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "The babies are right here, and Nick and Chris are with us."

Y/N’s gaze shifted to where Nick and Chris stood, each cradling a baby in their arms. Her eyes softened, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips as she saw them.

"Hey, guys." She murmured, her voice raspy but filled with warmth.

"Hey, Y/N." Chris replied, his voice thick with emotion as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the baby boy close to his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I’ve been hit by a truck." Y/N joked weakly, managing a small laugh despite her exhaustion. She reached out for Matt, her eyes pleading for his help. "Can you help me sit up? I want to hold them."

"Of course." Matt said, his voice tender as he gently supported her back, helping her sit up against the pillows. He adjusted the bed to make her more comfortable, his movements careful and precise, always mindful of her comfort.

Once she was settled, Y/N looked at her babies, a rush of love flooding her system. Chris carefully handed her their son, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he watched Y/N cradle the tiny bundle in her arms. The baby boy squirmed slightly, his little face scrunching up as he nestled into Y/N’s embrace, and Y/N felt her heart melt at the sight.

"Hi, sweet boy." Y/N whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks as she pressed a soft kiss to her son's forehead. "Mommy’s here."

Nick, still holding their daughter, hesitated for a moment before offering her to Matt, a silent question in his eyes. Matt nodded, and Nick carefully placed the baby girl into his brother’s arms. The little girl yawned, her tiny fist curling up near her face, and Matt felt his heart swell with a fierce, protective love as he looked down at his daughter.

"She's got your eyes." Nick teased softly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"And her nose." Chris added, his voice still wavering with emotion.

Y/N smiled, looking at Matt, who was gazing down at their daughter with such love and awe that it made her heart ache in the best way. She could see the tears in his eyes, the overwhelming emotion that he was trying so hard to keep in check, and it made her love him even more.

"It's like I've waited my whole life for this moment."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Ready?" Matt asked, his voice soft as he looked over at Y/N, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she gazed back at him.

"Ready." She whispered, her voice steady, filled with a quiet determination.

They walked up the path of their house together, Matt balancing his baby boy in one arm while Y/N held onto his other arm. The front door, painted in a cheerful shade of brown, seemed to welcome them home as they stepped inside. The familiar scent of home - fresh linen, a hint of lavender, and the comforting smell of wood - washed over them as they crossed the threshold.

Matt paused in the entryway, taking a deep breath as he looked around. Everything was exactly as they had left it, but now it felt different, infused with the anticipation of this new chapter.

"Welcome home, little lovies." Y/N whispered, leaning down and brushing her lips against her daughter’s small head covered by her light pink beanie.

Matt led the way, his steps slow and deliberate as he carried their son into the living room. He paused in the center of the room, turning in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Look, little guy, this is where we'll spend most of our time together." He said softly, his voice taking on a warm, inviting tone as if he were talking directly to the babies. "Right here, in this room. We'll have family movie nights, and you’ll play with your many toys on the rug... and when you’re a little bigger, we’ll build forts with blankets and cushions."

Y/N followed him, her heart swelling with love as she listened to him talk. She could see it all so clearly in her mind; tiny feet pattering across the hardwood floor, peals of laughter filling the air as they chased each other around the coffee table, and sleepy cuddles on the couch after a long day of playing. It was the life they had dreamed of, and now it was finally real.

"And this." Matt continued softly, leading Y/N out of the living room and down the hallway to the master bedroom. "Is Mama and Dada's room."

He pushed the white door open, revealing the room they had shared for a year now - after they moved in to their own shared house -, now feeling so much more significant with the addition of their new roles as parents. The bed was neatly made, the pillows fluffed and arranged just the way Y/N liked them, and the soft curtains billowed slightly in the breeze from the open window.

"This is where you’ll come when you need comfort." Matt said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at their son, still cradled in his arms. "Where you'll crawl into bed with us on stormy nights, or just because you want to be close. And we'll always be here, waiting to hold you, to keep you safe."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Matt, her heart overflowing with love for him, for their children, for the life they were building together.

"They’re so lucky to have you as their dad." She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I’m so lucky to have you as my partner in this."

Matt’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes filled with the depth of his love.

"I'm the lucky one." He murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I get to spend my life with you and our beautiful babies. I don’t think I could ever ask for more."

Leaving the bedroom, Matt led them to the one right by the side, stopping in front of a door that had been carefully painted in soft pastels. He pushed it open gently, revealing the nursery inside. The room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, and the soft colors of the walls and furniture created a peaceful, serene atmosphere.

"Now, this is your room." Matt said softly, his voice full of pride and love as he stepped inside.

He carefully set the bag that was held by his free arm down on the plush rug in the center of the room, turning to Y/N as she entered behind him.

"We've spent so much time getting it ready for you." Y/N muttered, her eyes shining as she looked around the room.

"That's right. This is where you'll sleep, where you'll have sweet dreams and where we'll sing you lullabies every night. Also, where your mama is going to read all those cute little stories every day."

Y/N carefully placed their daughter in the crib, brushing her fingers over the soft white blankets they had chosen with so much care. She looked around the room, her heart swelling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of love.

"It’s so beautiful." She whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she looked up at Matt, her eyes lowering to her baby boy still on his arms, his big blue eyes now appearing smaller with the heaviness of sleep that dominated them. "They’re going to be so happy here."

Matt’s hand found hers, their fingers intertwining as they stood together, looking down at their tiny daughter, who was already drifting off to sleep in the crib.

"We all are."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

I also wrote it while listening to a really beautiful brazilian song about pregnancy. I'm gonna let it right below so yall can listen to it and see the translation through Spotify! 🩷

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zainabthescientist @littlemisswhore

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[someonexsomeone]

Sweetness

Title: Sweetness

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans

Summary: The Marauders LOVED to watch you with Remus.

Authors Note: this was actually born from another fic i was writing that i hated scrapped and kept one sentence from lmao

“What are you idiots up to now?” 

There was very little that could rattle Lily Evans. Her sister, Severus Snape, and, as reluctant as she wanted to admit it, James Potter, were just a few people, not to mention the very Gryffindor nature she adopted over the years making her susceptible to reckless actions, but she was getting the hang of it, honest! It was just that stupid Potter that set her on edge without having to do anything, and then he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at her and--

Ugh. Thinking about him made her feel nauseous.

She’d done her best to avoid Potter as much as possible, not that Dumbledore made it any easier assigning them as Head Girl and Boy (despite her many protests), but he seemed adamant on sticking by her side. Or, as Marlene suggested, not that Lily believed it anyway, that Potter was simply going about his day to day life and they just happened to share a few classes together and of course he would sit near her in the Great Hall since it was practically commonplace to sit near your yearmates, and why was she paying so close attention to him anyway?

“Because he’s so annoying it's impossible to ignore. Like a moldy cheese, his stink of annoyance just fills a room.”

“You know, Lily,” Marlene teased, drawing out every word. “Some people think smelly cheese is irresistible.”

She stormed away before she could think that her red face was attributed to anything but anger.

So, imagine her surprise when, the very person she was trying to avoid, was acting more a fool than usual, his butt hanging out of a classroom door with none of the decorum required of a Head Boy. Though, she mused, why did she expect anything different from him, even if he’d been acting more mature this term.

His goofy shocked face caused her heart to flutter, another symptom of her annoyance.

“Lily!” Potter whisper-shouted, somehow being incapable of speaking quietly even when it was so obvious he was trying. Sirius Black, used to his antics, knocked a knobby elbow into his side from his position on the floor, playful glare on his face as he shushed his better half.

“Quiet!” Black hissed, voice just as loud. Potter didn’t seem to notice, sending him a sheeping smile.

“Sorry!” he said, though his voice was only lower in pitch, not volume. Lily rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were studying with Marlene?”

“Stalking me now, Potter?” She was shocked, however, when Potter flushed red instead of his flirty remark.

“I-I would never! You know that, don’t you?” And then, as if he realized how pathetic he sounded, his mouth twitched into a grimace. “Unless, you--…you want me to?”

“Oh Merlin,” Black sighed, shaking his head, voice exasperated. “Marlene told us in case Dorcas finished her meeting with Professor Gropmorph early.”

This time, it was Lily who flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Remus took the perfect moment to open the door to the classroom, unamusement clear, even as Potter and Black toppled like dominoes face first onto Remus’s shoes.

“What are you idiots doing now?” Lily felt her chest swell in kinship, even as Remus’s face dropped in shock at spotting her standing there. “Lily?”

“I promise,” she said quickly, “I have nothing to do with this!”

“What…what are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?”

“Well, you see--!” Black scrambled to his feet, knocking James over in his attempt to get up faster. “I was just--...we were just--...”

“Rounds!” James shouted, gracelessly, despite his usual athleticism, using the door frame to pull himself up. Once he was on his feet, he swung an arm around Lily. When she tried to sidestep away from him, he kept his arm firm, and she pretended to hate it. “We were just doing rounds, right, Evans?”

It was a miracle these marauders didn’t get into more trouble if this is what they were like when they were lying. James was staring down at her with his big brown eyes, twinkling with hope. Black was making a subtle motion to play along, though it was in clear view of Remus, who eyed them suspiciously.

Why me?, she thought, miserably.

“...Yeah,” she finally said, though the moment had stretched on for far too long to be convincing. Black face palmed.

“Rounds? But it’s not even dinner yet?”

James cursed under his breath. Lily rolled her eyes. How could he forget his best friend was a prefect?

“It’s those new Head rounds, right?” Black provided. James slumped in relief, immediately nodding along.

“Yep! Yeah, new rounds for Head Girl and Boy. Wouldn’t have taken the job if I knew there was so much to do!” James laughed too loud, then abruptly stopped, whipping his head down to look at Lily. “Not that I’m not responsible! I agreed, so I’ll follow through. Promise!”

“...okay,” Remus agreed, drawing out the sound to fill the sudden awkward silence. He eyes Black, almost looking like he was going to ask what he was doing there, then decided better and kept the question to himself. Lily didn’t blame him. “Well, have fun…?”

“Yes, yes! You as well, whatever mysterious thing you’re doing in there!” Black babbled, practically pushing Remus back into the room, throwing a glare over his shoulder. 

Just before the door shut, Lily swore she saw a familiar silhouette.

With the door now closed, and Black assured that Remus was far enough away, he whipped around, voice exasperated as he said, “Way to go, Prongs.”

“What?” Lily shrugged off Potter’s arm, and he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh, sorry. I panicked.”

“I could tell.” She made a show of whipping off her shoulder, but made no move to walk away. “What were you even doing?”

Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Black launched himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Potter's eyes widened, grabbing Black’s arms to push him away.

“Why are you curious? We’re not breaking any rules,” Black said suspiciously, voice trembling as he held his hands still. Lily eyed the two, Potter obviously not putting all his strength into the fight, then looked at the door.

“Remus is allowed to be in there,” she said instead of responding. She turned to Black, crossing her arms and standing her ground. “You, however, are being incredibly rude by spying on him.”

“He’s our friend,” Black argued, as if that justified his actions.

“Friends don’t spy on each other.”

“Friends don’t keep secret lovers.”

Immediately, the two looked at each other in equal shock, eyes widening in unison. Potter used the distraction to finally free his mouth, playfully spitting on the floor.

“Ugh, wash your hands, Pads.”

Lily blinked owlishly at Black, who looked horrified at what he revealed.

“Remus is dating--”

“We don’t know for sure,” James said before she could continue, warily glancing at the closed door. Deciding it would be best to move away, he nodded his head at Black, then gestured Lily down the hall, an illusion of privacy she found she appreciated. Once they were a good ways down, where the door all but disappeared into the lopsided cobbled wall, James continued, “It’s just a hunch we’ve had.”

“A hunch?” 

“Our Moony is very protective of his pack--” Potter coughed pointedly at Black, who just rolled his eyes, “--of friends.”

“What he means,” James cut in, “is that Moony is very selective of who he gets close to. Childhood trauma and all that. He just hasn’t gotten around to introducing us yet.”

Lily thought they were being very nonchalant for discussing childhood trauma, but she shrugged it off, reminding herself these were the boys who thought dungbombs were funny because they smelled like farts.

“And you were…what, trying to find a good time to introduce yourselves?” Potter turned sheepish while Black laughed.

“Not…not exactly.”

“Not that you would know, dear Evans, but our Moony is quite the romantic.”

“Remus? Remus Lupin?” Lily conjured the shy Remus she knew, the one who stuttered the first time they interacted, who she recalled being too quiet to stand up to his friends’ wrongdoings, but helped in every other instance. Remus, who she rarely saw with anyone but his roommates, despite the countless people throwing themselves at his feet for a date.

Black nodded, long hair swinging around his shoulders.

“The most. Would put Calyna Ollapianne to shame.” Although Lily was lost, no doubt one of many pop culture wizards she hadn’t had the time to discover, the way Potter was nodding his head made her inclined to believe it was a good thing. Maybe Mary would know, she wondered to herself, she’s always been into wizarding things.

“And, you see, he’s shy.” To this, Lily nodded. “So, when he does fancy someone, he doesn’t always have the courage to say something.”

“Except!” Black’s mischievous smile made her nervous. “Our dear Moony, who usually runs away tail between his legs when a pretty thing walks by, is currently locked in a room, far from other students or distractions, supposedly tutoring a very pretty thing.”

Lily stopped, her two companions falling in line to look at her, identical smiles on their faces. If she didn’t know Black had been staying with the Potter’s, she might have been weirded out. Instead, she only felt confusion, looking back over her shoulder to the hallway they just abandoned. Black was practically bouncing on his feet as he waited for her response.

“So…”

“Yes?”

“Remus is currently tutoring a fellow classmate and your…disrupting him?” Black sighed dramatically, obviously not what he was expecting to hear from her.

“Come on, Evans. You’re not the littlest bit curious?” He gestured down the hall. “We just let you in on one of our biggest secrets and you can’t even give me a dramatic gasp?”

“One of--?”

“We don’t bother them,” Potter reassured before she could continue, giving her a softer smile, one that relaxed her nerves, as much as she hated to admit it. “We just…want to make sure he’s doing alright. Provide emotional support, or whatever.”

Lily looked, really looked, at James as he stuttered over his words, pointedly avoiding her eyes. Even with his tanned skin, she could see the beginnings of a flush creeping up his neck, painting the tips of his ears rosy. The more she looked, the more he stammered, hands waving wildly, knocking into Black, though neither of them really acknowledged it, too busy studying her or too used to it, she didn’t know. She tucked away the knowledge that her stare made him stumble over her words.

By the time his voice was getting shrill, pathetically forming messy sentences that somehow implicated him and Black in a torrid affair with Remus, a familiar boy rounded the corner.

“Hey! Sorry, am I late?” Pettegrew called, face red and sweaty from no doubt running to meet up with his friends. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Though Remus was by far her favorite Seventh Year boy, Peter Pettigrew was high on her list, thanks to his inability to talk without his friends nearby. Lily hadn’t had many interactions with him, beyond the odd Gryffindor camaraderie at matches and being paired up in class, but there was something about the way he followed along behind his friends, as if he was completely spineless, set her on edge. Pathetic, she hated to admit, was one of the few words she associated with him, and she felt bad enough about it that she often went out of her way to be extra kind to him. Like now, as she gave him a small smile. Pettigrew gave her a toothy one in return when he spotted her.

“Oh, Evans! I didn’t know you liked watching Moony too!”

“Watching…?”

“Yeah!” He laughed, setting Black and Potter on edge. “These two are obsessed with watching Moony get all lovey--”

“You’re such a snitch!” Black yelped before he could continue, locking Pettigrew’s head in the crook of his arm, pushing his fist into the top of his head and rubbing until both of their hair was askew.

“I thought you were there to provide ‘moral support’?” Lily questioned, side eyeing Potter, who started to stutter again. 

It should have been obvious, she mused, that they were lying about being there for his friend. As long as she’s known them, they were always up to something. Niceties hiding deception, innocence hiding trickery. Even if he’d matured in the past term, actually being a good Head Boy despite her reluctance to admit it, old habits die hard.

“We really are! It’s just--...It’s just…” Potter’s stutter, despite usually making her want to roll her eyes, made her feel a little bad. After all, they were a collection of contradictions. Who's to say he couldn't be spying for good and bad reasons? She nearly pinched herself at the thought.

Black, noticing his friend's dilemma, loosened his hold to step closer. Pettigrew used the distraction to pull his head away, surprisingly knocking a leg out to trip Black, sending him tumbling into Potter, and both of them onto the floor.

“They're looney,” Pettegrew rushed out, a mischievous smile on his face. Potter and Black wiggled against each other on the floor, untangling limbs to stop their friend from saying more. “Obsessed with how Moony gets all soft. Did they tell you their favorite thing is when he stands behind to guide wand movement with his whole body? ‘Oh, Prongs, hold me like Moony does!’, ‘Pads, Pads! Do you think they’ll kiss later?’!”

“Snitch!” Potter shouted this time, launching himself across the floor towards Pettigrew’s knees, knocking them down. The two grappled on the floor, Pettigrew laughing while Potter stuttered apologies towards Lily, swearing they weren’t creeps, while Black rose beside her, cackling and cheering them on, an annoying ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ that brought on a migraine she did not need to deal with right now. 

“What are you doing?” All four of them froze, the unexpected stern voice rattling them to their bones. 

Lily was the first to turn, wince pulling her eyebrows to her nose as she watched Remus hurry down the hall, obvious exasperation on his face. She felt even worse as she spotted you trailing behind him. It was obvious they weren’t as quiet as they hoped, pulling you from the tutoring session Remus had gone through the trouble of renting a room for.

“Lily?” You called, evidently more confused to see her than the two locked in a wrestle on the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“I was--...I was just--…” She felt foolish stumbling over her words like that. It was a public hallway, she had every right to be here just as the others did, and she wasn’t one of the bubbling fools getting their uniforms dirty while they rolled on the floor. Well, she wasn’t one of the fools, but she had to admit she was very much bumbling.

“Why are you two always on the floor?” Remus said, exasperated. He reached down, hauling Pettigrew to his feet, much to Potter’s dismay, who had to rise on his own, Black still too busy eyeing you up. She could have sworn she saw Remus send a sharp glare in Black’s direction, but the harshness completely vanished as he looked at you again. Instead of the mean look he reserved for his friends, his eyebrows relaxed, face going rosy as he apologized. “I’m sorry, we’re meant to be studying.”

“Yeah, studying…” Black murmured under his breath, much too loud to be a private thought. Lily stomped on his foot not too discreetly in retaliation. “Merlin’s beard--!”

She turned to stick her tongue out at him, a very irresponsible thing to do as Head Girl but there was something about these troublemakers that made her feel like a little kid again, but before she could do more, Potter elbowed her harshly in the side. When she whipped toward him, he had an embarrassed flush on his face, evidently not meaning to hit her so hard, but he gestured quickly back to you. Only curiosity had her pulling her eyes away from him.

“It’s alright, Rem.” Lily watched as Remus all but melted at the nickname, easily dodging around the group to return to your side. His hand hovered over your shoulder, then dropped, either too nervous or too aware of the watching eyes to actually touch you. It didn’t stop his fingers, however, from twitching towards you as you gave him a smile. “It’s getting close to dinner anyway.”

“Sorry about them.” 

Black wiggled his eyebrows at Lily as Remus’s voice dropped to something sickly sweet, lower and smoother than she was used to hearing. However, as he flicked his eyes towards his friends, all in unison the boys whipped their heads away, whistling or otherwise pretending to not be paying attention. Lily flushed, then looked to her feet, disbelieving that she was following along. But, she hated to admit, this was much too good to walk away from.

“They're fun. And, we can always pick up where we left off tomorrow. No big deal.” You seemed to have no qualms touching him, your hand reaching out to squeeze one of his in reassurance. Lily lifted her eyes just in time to watch a scattering of goosebumps litter the back of his neck, just above the collar of his messy button up. “Same time?”

“Yeah, same time.” She could almost hear the sadness in his voice, easily picturing puppy ears sprouting from his head at how downtrodden he was at leaving you. You seemed to agree, laughing, and then reaching out to gently pat his face. “Have fun at dinner.”

“You could always join us, you know!” Black called out when you pulled away, surprising everyone by daring to speak out and break the gentle atmosphere that surrounded you two. Remus whipped his head around to glare, though he failed as his eyes widened in shock, motioning to cut it out. Potter hissed under his breath in tandem with Lily’s pinch to his side, but Black simply let a smooth smirk pull across his lips, ignoring everyone’s not so subtle hints. “Remus always talks about how much he misses you--”

In perfect unison, Lily stepped out of the way, latching onto your arm to pull you away, while James slapped one of his big hands across Black’s mouth, giving you a bright smile.

“--your tutoring lessons!” he gasped out, glancing at Remus quickly before returning his smile to you. “Loves--likes what a good student you are! Best one he’s ever had!”

“Potter was just telling me how good Remus was. Tell me about it?” Lily suggested, piggybacking off Potter’s obvious lie, tugging you down the hallway. You looked at her quizzically, obviously wondering why she suddenly was all buddy-buddy with you when you two hadn’t shared so much as a whole conversation before, but you didn’t press.

“Alright?” She felt giddy as a soft smile stretched across your lips, neck craned awkwardly so you could turn to look back at Remus, waving your hand. “Bye, Remus. Thanks again.”

“Yeah! Yes! Anytime!” Lily giggled to herself at the fumble, his hand waving a bit too frantically to be casual, but it seemed to only endear you more, nearly tripping over your feet so you could continue to look at him.

The two of you barely managed to round the corner before Black’s obnoxious voice rang out, “Way to go, Moony! You sly wolf!”

Yes, it seemed those marauding boys had a hobby of watching your interactions with Remus, somehow managing to do it in the creepiest, most intrusive way possible. But, she thought as you laughed, wistfully looking over your shoulder, she saw the appeal. 

And, if she found herself in this hallway again tomorrow, now, that was surely just a coincidence.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l hogwarts masterlist

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst

Series masterlist

The afternoon sun filtered through the living room window and cast a swath of gold over Noah's house. You were sitting crossed-legged on the couch, watching Luna play silently, her small hands precisely set her favorite toys in a small, neat row, where Mr. Flop, her favorite bunny, had proudly taken the central point, guiding whatever game was in her head.

You smiled at her concentration, something warm blooming in your chest.

She was a perfect blend of Noah's features, a mirror image of him in her own way. She had his warm, deep brown eyes with his same subtle almond shape, dark hair, with a way chubbier face.

Noah leaned against the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Some brown locks fell over his eyes as they darted between you and his daughter in quiet contemplation and hesitation.

You could tell something was on his mind. It had been incredible between you and Noah in the past few months, but there was one part of his life he'd held carefully at arm's length: Luna.

That wasn't because he didn't trust you, you knew that. It was deeper than that, more complicated. He was protective of her in a way hard to explain unless you knew the full story, which he had only recently begun sharing with you.

It had been late one night, just the two of you curled up on his couch after Luna had gone to bed, when Noah first opened up about the relationship with his ex. In the beginning, it had been passionate-whirlwind-type love, felt like the kind that could move mountains.

But once Luna was born, everything shifted. She was never ready for the reality of being a mother, and slowly but surely, it dawned on him that with each passing day, she actually resented it. Noah tried to understand her, tried to support her in whatever way he could, but nothing seemed to help. The more he tried, the more she pulled away.

One night, Noah had come home to an empty house. No note, no explanation, just Luna, not even a year old yet, lying in her crib, and complete silence in every room. His ex was gone, had walked out on both of them, and though Noah tried to reach out, tried to get her to come back, she never did.

From that moment on, he'd vowed to protect Luna from anything or anyone that might hurt her. Or perhaps that was his way to protect himself, too.

You both were up late, the only sound in his living room coming from a small lamp in the corner of the room, its dim light.

Noah was sitting next to you on the couch, his back hunched and his elbows to his knees as he stared into the floor for thought collection. You knew he had been carrying something heavy in his head for quite some time.

"I never thought that I'd ever be a single parent," he said gruffly, as though the words hurt him to utter. "But then again, after what happened …I don't really see my life in any other way anymore. She is everything to me."

He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face, and in those eyes you could almost see his tiredness, not physical, but an emotional toll, when one carries so much on his shoulders alone. You said nothing, just let him work through the words at his own pace. You could feel his vulnerability hang between you like some fragile thing he was just willing to show you.

"I didn't have time to process what happened," Noah whispered. "One day I'm in this relationship and we're trying to make it work for Luna, and the next… she's gone. Just like that. I came home and she'd left. No explanation. No good-bye."

Your heart ached with the pain in his tone, even now raw with emotion.

“I didn’t know what the hell I was doing,”, he admitted, shaking his head. Just like that, it was him and Luna against the world.

"I was fucking terrified" he said, the corner of his lip curling up in a self-deprecating smile. "I had to figure out how to be a dad by myself, how to balance that with the band, how to be there for her when I was barely holding it together myself."

He glanced up at you then, his eyes warm with appreciation and a little fear. "She's the reason I'm so careful, you know? With relationships, with people in general. I don't ever want to bring someone into her life unless I am really sure."

He paused, his throat swallowing hard as his eyes drop once again to the floor. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but it was hard for him to speak.

"I'm scared that…," he started, then had to force himself to continue, his voice faltering. "I'm scared that you're mad at me. Or disappointed, maybe. That I'm taking things too slow with you. That I haven't fully… let you in yet. It's not because I don't care about you, because I do. A lot. It's just—"

"Noah," you said softly, leaning in closer to him. "I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I get it, why you want to be careful. It's okay."

His eyes finally met yours, surprise flickering in them. He had been so consumed by his fear of messing things up that it hadn't occurred to him you might actually understand where he was coming from.

"You've been through much," you went on, your voice soft but clear. "And I get why you'd want to protect Luna. I'd be more concerned if you were being anything less than careful, honestly. It says how much you love her, and how much you want to do right by her. And I respect that, Noah. I'm not going anywhere."

He blinked, like he was trying to absorb what you were saying, his shoulders loosening as your words soaked in. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. His hand closed around yours, clasping at it like he was holding onto something solid for the first time in a long while.

"I can wait," you said with an even voice. "You need more time, I'm waiting. I do care for you, for both of you. And I don't want to make anything if you are not ready yet. What matters to me is that we're moving forward, even if it's slow."

Noah's breath slightly caught, emotion swelling up in his eyes as he continued to carry that weight for such a long time, terrified that by taking things slow, he was pushing you away, when all you wanted was to meet him where he was.

"I don't know how to do that," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been so scared of screwing this up, of screwing us up. But you… you've just been there."

You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You've been hurt, Noah. And it takes time to heal from that. I'm not here to hurry you or push you into something that you're not ready for. I am here because I care about you. And I care about Luna. I want you only to know that I'm in this for the long haul whenever you're ready."

He breathed shakily, his forehead leaning forward to rest against yours while his hand remained tightly wrapped around yours. You could feel the tension start to seep from him, replaced by a silent sort of relief that he didn't have to bear the burden of his fears alone anymore.

"Thank you." he whispered, his voice full of gratitude. "For understanding. For being… you."

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, silently communicating that he had nothing to thank you for, that this was where you wished to be.

You saw Noah in all his completeness: a good father, a man who had been wounded but kept trying, learning how to trust once more. You were more than ready to wait for him to fully open up that part of his heart.

You sat in that silence, the weight of the past there still, yet lighter now. You knew Noah still had a really long way to go before letting go of all the pain he had been carrying with him, but you knew he was on his way. You would be here every step of the way, to build something real, something lasting, with him and with Luna.

Now, months after you and Noah had started dating, you were sitting in the middle of that guarded space he had created around her.

Now you knew why he was being so careful, why he had not pushed for more interaction between you and Luna.

She meant the world to him, and after all she had been through, he would never risk anything that could disrupt her life. But still, you waited. You had cared for Noah, and by that extension already cared for Luna, too. So you gave him the time he needed to let you in.

Today, though, there was something different in the air, something to let you know Noah was about to take a step forward.

"Hey," Noah finally said, breaking the comfortable silence that had overcome the room. He set his coffee cup down and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous quirk you'd come to know well. "Can I ask you a favor?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What's up?"

He turned to Luna, still deep in her toys, and back to you again. He paused a beat, you basically saw the cogs turning as he picked his words with all care.

"The band's got a thing later today, just some planning stuff for the new album. I was supposed to go meet the guys, but…" He trailed off, gesturing toward Luna with a helpless look. "Usually, I ask one of them, but they are all busy today."

You chuckled softly at that, imagining Luna in the hands of Noah’s bandmates. As much as they loved her, you knew they weren’t exactly all equipped for child care even if you were sure they all deeply cared about her.

"So… you want me to stay with her?"

Noah nodded, his expression softening as he met your gaze. "Yeah. If you're okay with it. I mean, I know it's last minute and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but—"

"Noah," you interrupted softly, standing up and walking over to him. You reached out, resting your hand on his arm. "It's okay. I'd love to stay with her."

He exhaled, the relief washing over his features, but there was still that damned hesitation in his eyes. You knew how big of a deal this was for him, trusting someone with Luna, especially after everything he'd been through.

"Are you sure?" he asked more quietly now. "I mean, she's really shy, with most people and with you too, and I don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable."

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. She just needs time, that's all. And I think she got her shyness from her dad."

Noah closed his eyes for a second, his head slightly leaned into your touch before pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were different, warm and a deep well of silent appreciation.

"Thank you," he whispered. "This… this means so much."

Now, you were sitting on the floor, after Noah had gone off to his band meeting. At first, Luna had been quiet, keeping to herself to play with her toys, but bit by bit, she'd started to warm up toward you, like you'd wanted.

You leaned forward for Mr. Flop, the stuffed bunny, and held him out to her with a playing grin. "You think Mr. Flop needs some tea?"

Luna's eyes sparkled, a shy smile overspreading her face as she nodded vigorously. "Yes! He is very thirsty."

You laughed softly, watching her scurry over to her tiny plastic tea set. She first poured an imaginary cup of tea for Mr. Flop and then one for you. As she handed you the pretend tea, your heart swelled with affection for this little girl who was letting you into her world slowly, piece by piece.

"Thanks, Luna," he said, making a big show of taking a sip. "This is the best tea I've ever had."

She giggled, her cheeks blushing with pride. For several moments, the two of you played in comfortable silence, with her showing you through the rules of the tea party.

"You think Mr. Flop would like to go on an adventure?" you asked after some time, breaking the silence as Luna finished pouring more imaginary tea.

With eyes aglow with excitement, she said, "Yes! He loves adventures!"

"Okay, where shall we go?" you asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Luna tapped her chin, and then a huge grin spread over her face. "The jungle! I love jungle! Dad loves jungle too! We have to find the lost treasure!"

You gasped melodramatically. "The jungle? Wait. Noah made you listen...nevermind. That does sound dangerous! You think we can make it?"

She laughed again, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "We can do it! Mr. Flop is very brave."

And then you both launched into your make-believe jungle adventure. The shyness had left Luna by now, replaced by a bubbly, fearless energy that took your heart soaring.

The front door creaked open a couple of hours later when Noah returned home, but you didn't notice him first, too caught up in the game with Luna sitting next to you on the floor.

Noah stood in the doorway, watching the both of you, and his heart swelled in his chest. He had always known you were special, knew from the moment he met you that there was something different about you, but seeing you now, playing with Luna, made him feel something he hadn't felt in years.

Love, not just for you, but for the idea of you becoming a part of him and Luna's lives in a deeper way.

When you finally saw him standing there, you smiled. "Hey, you're back!" you said. Noah nodded, stepping closer, his eyes soft. "Yeah, I'm back."

Luna ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs as he scooped her up, holding her close to his chest for a moment before turning back to you. "You two seemed to have fun."

Noah had Luna in his arms, babbly excitedly about some "jungle adventure" and lost treasure. He listened intently, though his eyes never left you. There was something there in his gaze, something so raw and deep, that made your heart go racing. It wasn't the usual softness, the usual affection, it was heavier, like something nestled between you when nothing was said.

"We did," you said, smiling at Luna as she continued her excited recount of the day. "We found the lost treasure, and Mr. Flop was the hero of the day."

Luna giggled, snuggling into Noah's chest as she added her own details. "We were very brave, Daddy! Mr. Flop was so good at being quiet, and we didn't get eaten!"

Noah chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Sounds like you had quite the adventure."

"Yes! We had a lot of fun. And your friend is amazing. I want to play with her again. I think she is my friend too now."

Noah smiled, his brown eyes full of affection for the both of you. "I'm glad you made a new friend. We'll ask her again, okay?"

Luna nodded, her eyelids drooping as the excitement of the day finally started to catch up with her and she rested her head against the soft fabric of his dad's hoodie. Noah glanced at you over her head, a soft smile tugging at his lips once again.

"Would you like to help me get her ready for bed?" he whispered, and with Luna nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder, half-asleep.

You nodded, and your heart fluttered with the thought. This felt like some sort of minor but meaningful step in being included in the nighttime routine, part of something as personal and intimate as this.

All three went into Luna's room together. It was not a big room, but it was cozy with soft toys, bookshelves, and a little carpet that glittered from strings of tiny fairy lights.

Noah was soon to gently lay Luna down into her bed, and you sat down beside him, watching as he tucked her in, his hands moving with the sort of practiced ease that came from more than two years of being a single parent. You leaned over, setting Mr. Flop down beside Luna, who smiled sleepily as she cuddled the bunny close.

Noah leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss against her forehead with tenderness that would ache your chest. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Goodnight, daddy," she muttered the tone in her voice drowsy. Then her tiny eyes flickered open just enough to glance at you. "Goodnight Y/N."

You smiled warmly, your heart swelling in the simplest of words. "Goodnight, Luna."

After several minutes of quiet whispers and soothing reassurances, she fell asleep, her breathing evening into the quiet rhythm of her sleep. Noah leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to her forehead before he eased himself up, motioning you to follow him from the room.

As the door is shut quietly behind you, he let out a very, very long breath, running his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall.

"Thanks," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "For sticking with her. For being so… incredible with her."

You shrugged. "She's a pretty amazing kid. It wasn't hard."

Noah turned fully toward you now, his eyes searching yours with a sort of intensity that hitched your breath. His hand rose and delicately swept a strand of hair back behind your ear, where it lingered on the side of your face. His thumb tracing the line of your jaw sent you leaning into his touch, your heart beating with each passed second a little faster.

"I never knew whether I would find anybody that could fit in this part of my life," he whispered, his voice not a decibel over a whisper. "With Luna, after what happened… I felt I needed to keep her world small, you know? Keep it safe. I didn't want to bring someone in that might hurt her."

His eyes welled with that same vulnerability you had seen before, and you knew how hard this was for him, to open up, to let you into this part of his life he had guarded so much.

"You don't have to worry about that," you said softly, laying your hand over his. "I would never hurt her. Or you."

Noe's thumb stroked over your cheek, his eyes sealing to yours in an tight seriousness, as if you were the only person existing. "I know. That's why I love you."

The words hung between you and him, heavy with tension. You couldn't breathe for a second, heart pounding in your chest as you tried processing what he just said. He loved you.

You hadn't expected it, not so soon, not in that moment, but the way he looked at you, the way he had been with Luna, it made sense. It wasn't just the two of them anymore; it was all three, the small family that had formed.

A soft smile overspreads your face as you looked up at him, your hand clenching a little tighter around his. "I love you too, Noah."

The relief in his expression was genuine, and for him at least, it was as though the weight had finally been pulled off his shoulders. He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped yours around him, holding close as he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he couldn’t believe you were real.

And for a long time, neither of them said anything. They only stood there with each other, wrapped in their own warmth, and the silence just told it all.

Then Noah leaned back, just a little, just enough to look down at you. And then his eyes were deeper and surer.

"I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met you," he whispered huskily. "I don't think I even knew how much I needed someone like you, not just for me but for Luna, too."

You reached up and brushed a thumb over his cheek. "You're an amazing dad, Noah. You've done everything right for her. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, like almost to let your words sink in. Opening them a second later, there was something soft, something vulnerable, that made you want to pull him closer still.

"I don't want to do it alone anymore," he whispered with his forehead against yours. "I want this. Us. You and me, and Luna. I want a family."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "Me too."

Noah's arms tugged closer, his lips finding yours in a gentle unhurried kiss that felt almost like a vow, like a start, the type of kiss that spoke of love, of trust, of a future that finally was starting to feel real.

He drew back and his eyes shone bright now with a happiness in them that hadn't been there before. He reached down, took your hand in his, and guided you back onto the couch. You sat together in the quiet glow of the livingroom.

You knew you would have one of those movie nights where you definitely fall asleep in his arms on the couch.

Noah for once in a long while felt something he hadn't dared to believe in, peace. Peace in knowing that he didn't have to protect himself and Luna anymore. Peace in knowing he was finally able to let you in, fully without any fear.

You sat there, his arm around you, knowing this was only the beginning of something beautiful: a life no more his or yours, but one which both of you had started building together.

hello friends in my phone! would you like more parts of this? (｡◕‿◕｡)

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe

[andy-15-07]

Our joy

masterlist ! pairing: Corionalus Snow x reader

SUMMARY :During the nights spent in the office and with the obligations of the president of Panem, when he gets home he goes where he needs to, to his wife and daughter.

GENRE: fluff, loveeee , dad!Corionalus

Opening the door to the bedroom he shares with his beautiful wife, Y/n. They knew each other since they were little, through their parents, and since then they remained best friends, but during the Academy, Coryo confessed his love for Y/n.

Through what they went through together, their relationship remained close and loving even during the period when Coriolanus was away in District 12 as a peacekeeper. They always found methods of communication, on the phone, letters.

Coryo scans the bedroom for the other person who makes him smile even in the hardest moments, his beautiful daughter, Athena Snow.

He changes his mind and decides to go see what his treasure is doing and there he finds his beautiful daughter, who is 3 months old.

When I open my eyes, I look at the clock and notice that it's past midnight, turning to the side where Coryo sleeps next to me, with his arms around me but I meet his side is empty.

I decided to go see what my daughter is doing, if she needs anything. Putting my robe and slippers on me, coordinate my way out of te room in the dark , walking down the hallway right to Athena's room . I see some dim light coming from inside and now I'm sure Coriolanus is in there , but arriving I am welcomed by the sweetest and most innocent picture.

My husband sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, only in his pajama pants , with our daughter in his arms, her head resting on his bare chest, her tiny hands pressed against his skin, sleeping peacefully, as if she had no reason to take care in the whole world. Well, she really doesn't have it when she has her father to take care of her.

Standing at the door, I take a moment to admire this beautiful view. I knew that my dear husband is an amazing father, even before Athena was born.

Coriolanus was attentive to his little girl who was sleeping so beautifully in his arms, that he did not see me standing in the doorway.

"Hello love, I hope we didn't disturb you." Coryo says to me and extends his hand towards me, a sign that he makes for me to go next to him, which I accept and sit next to him.

"Hello, you didn't disturb me. Did Athena start crying? I didn't hear her."

"She wasn't. I came home, so I came to check up on her and she was up, so I thought I would try to put her to sleep before she starts the usual show."

He slowly stood up, careful not to wake Athena, but as long as she is on his chest, I know she won't be fussing anytime soon. I watch him put her back into the crib, pulling her little blanket over her.

"She grew up so fast. I feel like it was just yesterday when you told me you were pregnant" says Coryo and examines our daughter.

"She is very beautiful, she has your eyes, your curly hair, maybe when she grows up she will also have your initiative. She is our girl, Coryo." The two of you stand at the crib, staring down at the tiny sleeping girl in awe , I'll never get enough of her. I snake my arms around Coriolanus's waist and he pulls me close to him, kissing the top of my head.

"Y/n thank you for everything you did for me, you gave me a daughter. You make me the happiest man in all of Panem" he says and pulls me closer to him and kisses me.

"Coryo, I thank you for everything."

"Y/n Snow I love you so much that I would do anything for you. And I love you too my little Athena."

"I love you too Coriolanus Snow."

With all that happened in the past, but from now on we will focus on our future, our daughter's and the future of Panem. With Coriolanus as President and me as First Lady, everything will be fine.

[orionremastered]

Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

CW: Poisoning, respiratory failure (just another Tuesday in Gotham)

When you were born, your parents were eager to see the first words of your soulmate written on your left forearm. You were woken from your sleep, wrapped in a soft blanket, when your mother gently took out your arm from the fluffy fabric.

Yet when she saw the words- no, word, singular- she paled. Your father leaned over and froze to a statue. Written on your wrist was;

Poison.

Yet your family's reaction wasn't even comparable to the confusion felt by the Al Ghul's in Nanda Parbat. When Talia read the words on her son's forearm, she could feel her heart stop for a moment.

You need to breathe.

The first words that the soulmate of Damian- the next Demon Head, next leader of the League of Assassins and the most intimidating and highly-trained man on Earth- would ever say to him shook Talia and Ra's to their core.

And once Damian was old enough to know what it meant, it shook him too.

Twenty Two Years Later...

The day started out as normal; you say hello to Harper, your partner in your ambulance unit, handing him a coffee before getting into the ambulance for a long twelve hour day shift, the day after Halloween.

"I don't want to be here," Harper says immediately.

"Neither," you reply before you pull out of the station and out into the street.

Not two seconds later, a beep sounds and Harper reads from the computer beside him; "Twenty-two year old male has collapsed and is struggling to breathe. Wayne Tower building on the top floor- that elevator better be in service or you're crashing this ambulance into a brick wall."

You snort, flicking on lights and sirens due to the nature of the incident and speed off towards the tower. You don't even need directions; the building looms over the entire city like a god and is a beacon of wealth- something two underpaid paramedics definitely do not have.

Arriving on scene and parking the ambulance hastily so that the back doors opened right next to the entrance, the two of you pull out the stretcher and rush into the building, many thoughts filling your mind as you reach the elevator- luckily in service- and hit the button for the top floor.

What could it be? Countless nights spent studying rather than sleeping fill your head as you sort through knowledge.

The elevator seemed to take forever, and maybe it did- this tower is extremely tall after all. You and Harper exchange glances just before the doors open.

Moving swiftly to the meeting room, full of businessmen in suits, your gazes are immediately drawn to the man on the floor.

Damian Wayne. Probably one of the few people who never needs to introduce himself.

He's not just struggling to breathe; you reckon he's paralyzed, too. Something sours in your gut as you crouch behind his head, Harper at his feet.

The Wayne's eyes lock onto yours as he takes in a raspy breath. "Poison," he chokes out. The words don't register just yet as the two of you lift him up from the floor and onto the stretcher.

"You need to breathe," you chide, and swear his eyes widen the slightest fraction. Harper straps him to the stretcher before giving you a nod. The only other person more famous than Damian follows you when you and Harper walk out with the stretcher. Bruce Wayne.

The elevator ride seems even slower going down. Bruce grips the side of the stretcher, knuckles white as Damian fights for each breath he wishes to take. But every second or so, Bruce's gaze flicks to you and makes you prickle with unease. Soon you realise Harper is doing the same thing.

Why- It hits you like a semi truck hitting a motorcyclist without a helmet on a highway. Damian Wayne's first word to you was 'poison', the same as it is written on your forearm.

The elevator dings and the door slides open. When you finally get him into the ambulance, Harper tosses you the keys without a word and settles beside the stretcher in the back, Bruce beside him.

You'll thank Harper later; right now, you need to get your soulmate to hospital.

"You should go check on him," Harper says at the end of your shift after handing the keys to the next crew. The two of you walk to the parking lot, tired and still processing the things you've seen. "Like, now. You've been angsty all shift."

"How can I not be?" you sigh. "Yeah, I guess I will, then. See you in two days."

Getting in your car, you pull out the parking lot and out into Gotham. The sky's getting dark- or darker- and the traffic is thinning. No one wants to be out at night, especially first responders. Yet instead of going straight home like normal, you drive to Gotham General Hospital.

The lady at the front desk frowns slightly when you ask for Damian Wayne. It's understandable; you're practically a nobody yet you're one of the most important people in the city.

"You are not immediate family or friends," the nurse says after a long back and forth. You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything you'll regret, but then again, she's a nurse. Nurses and paramedics don't get along.

"She's allowed," a low voice says from the hallway. Bruce Wayne, now changed into more comfortable clothing, looks almost as tired as you. Almost. He beckons for you to follow, leaving the nurse at the front desk flustered.

Damian's ward is private and more... luxury, if that's even a word used in the sense of hospitals. He's still asleep, and you find yourself checking his vitals with a glance. Not too bad, all things considered. He's definitely breathing better.

A weight lifts from you chest as you take a seat beside his bed. Bruce sits beside you in almost a casual way, yet you couldn't be further apart.

"What was it?" you say after a long moment of silence.

"Pardon?"

"The poison. He said it was poison."

"... right. It was curare," Bruce responds, rubbing his eyes. "Someone poisoned him with curare."

The only question left to answer now was who.

~~~

Masterlist

[spellboundstarlet]

KATE MARTIN X WIFE READER - pt one is here.

authors note; comments + reblogs are always better than likes!! i loveeeee feedback!

request; “i loved your pregnancy hcs with kate, could you do some of after the baby is born? like taking turns with the baby, meeting the team etc? love your writing!” — first off, thank you so much angel 💕 i hope this was good!!

word count; 640 words

— kate sat next to you with fear in her eyes as she watched your body be taken over by tremors. the poor girl hadn’t even heard of “the shakes” until the nurse explained how, and why this was happening to your body during labor and that it might possibly happen after birth aswell. for you, it was also quite frightening, the feeling drowning out all other senses besides the pain of your contractions. despite trying her best to stay strong for you, the sight of you lying there, broke her heart. there was nothing she could do besides hold your hand.

— as soon as the two of you find a quiet moment together with your baby resting peacefully in his bassinet, kate lovingly positions herself next to you, gently pressing her lips against your knuckles. her voice when she spoke was all that could be heard in the room, besides the baby’s unlabeled breathing, “you did so good, baby.”

— your wife and you had both had agreed that there were to be no visitors allowed until after the three of you had safely returned home. every family member who asked, was told the same. after the two days you spent in the hospital, then you’d open your home for only close family on both sides. under the condition that nobody was ill at the time of their visit. the two of you stayed focused on your little family and creating a sense of privacy during your time together, making sure that your experience remained undisturbed and cherished.

— during your entire time postpartum, she was your rock. physically, mentally, and emotionally. from the minute you brought the baby into the world, she is there to provide nothing but her love and support. whether that be feeding the baby in the middle of the night while you slept, or listening to you as you ranted. no matter what, kate was there.

— most nights, you’d open your eyes, the sound of the baby's cries gently nudging you awake, making you to rise sleepily and shift your weight to the edge of the bed. you’d yawned and drag your feet over to the bassinet, barely a couple of steps away, kate would get up aswell. the blonde’s hair was tousled from sleep, but she still remained gorgeous. your wife was a bit groggy, but determined to tend to the baby. 

"hey, baby, you should rest. i’ll handle him for now," kate whispered to you softly, before kissing your forehead and sending you back into bed.

— on the phone with your overly persistent mother, she begged and pleaded to come see her grandbaby. but, with her living out of state, you didn’t want to risk the baby getting something she caught on the plane over. so you told her “no”, over and over.

“i don’t want to sound mean, mom —“ but you were cut off by kate, who was usually the sweet one in the relationship, “i don’t mind being mean. you can wait. he’s not going anywhere.”

— around a month and a half later, you’d decided the baby was in a place where he could meet extended family or friends. kate’s teammates began coming over. first it was kelsey and a’ja, then the others followed suit. eventually, caitlin and her girlfriend flew down aswell. the amount of flower bouquets you had by now was insane, and you finally had to ask people to stop bringing them, just in fear that they’d take over your whole home. 

— you and kate often took turns. whenever something needed done, you’d just hand the baby off to the other one. your favorite moments were when all three of you cuddled together or when you’d wake up to kate and the baby sitting in the rocking chair in his nursery.

taglist; @bveckers @kmoneymartini @cosmopretty @charlottehughess @aubreygriffin @favreader23 , divs by @/anitalenia