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#why is she so upset about her daughter when no one is around if later we're going to find out that she hated the girl since she stole her?
perfectsunlight · 3 days
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[25] TRENDING
warnings: arguments, major angst, public pressure, panic attack
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"why did you have to make it a big deal?” ivory groaned as jennie dragged her through the crowd, frustration boiling over. she yanked her arm out of her mother’s grip, glaring at her. “it was just one night! one drink!”
jennie spun around, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. “one drink? is that what you think this is about? ivory, there were cameras! people were recording! do you have any idea what could happen if that video gets out?”
ivory crossed her arms, defiant. “i can deal with my own issues, you don’t need to control everything around me.” the younger girl protested, still clearly visibly upset.
“i’m not trying to control you,” jennie replied, her voice strained and pointed, “i’m trying to protect you! this isn’t just about you having a good time. do you know what it’s like to have your every move scrutinized? how one wrong step can ruin you? i lived through it, it destroyed me, and i’m not going to let that happen to you!” 
“i’m not you!” ivory shot back, her voice rising. even in the dark, jennie could see the emotions painted on her daughter’s face. “i’m not going to make the same mistakes you did. you didn’t even raise me!”
jennie froze at her words, the accusation knocking the wind out of her lungs. her breath caught in her throat, but she quickly masked the hurt with a sharp inhale. she kept her composure, but her eyes flickered with an emotion jane hadn’t seen before—something raw, something deeply buried that her daughter had just unwittingly unearthed.
and truth be told, ivory regretted saying those words the moment they left her mouth.
“i tried,” jennie finally responded, her voice quieter now, laced with a trembling vulnerability. “i did everything i could to make sure you didn’t have to grow up thinking you weren’t loved. i did what i could.”
the younger idol clenched her fists, her own anger mixing with guilt, but she couldn’t back down. “you don’t get to use that as an excuse every time you screw up! you weren’t there when i needed you. you were always off somewhere—on tour, in another country, doing fucking photoshoots—while grandma raised me.”
her maternal heart twisted painfully at jane’s words. she knew there was truth in them, but hearing it out loud from her daughter felt unbearable. her voice faltered, but she tried to steady it. “you think i didn’t want to be there? you think it didn’t kill me every time i had to leave you behind? i did it all for you, ivory.”
“yeah, well, i didn’t ask for that!” ivory shouted, her frustration spilling over. “i didn’t ask for you to sacrifice everything for me. i just wanted you! not the fame, not the money, not the gifts—just my mom.”
jennie’s jaw tightened, her emotions swirling just beneath the surface. she wanted to argue back, to defend herself, but she couldn’t. the truth was, there were times when she’d chosen her career over being present, and she knew she couldn’t change the past.
but it still hurt her knowing how much she had failed as a mother.
“we can discuss this later.” jennie’s voice was firm, her words cutting through the noise around them as she reached for her daughter’s arm, pulling her closer. the chaos of the club, the loud music, and the flashing lights all faded into the background as her focus narrowed to one thing: getting ivory out of there before things got worse.
her eyes scanned the crowd around them, trying to find that camera from earlier. but ivory quickly pulled away, her eyes flashing with anger. “no! i’m not leaving just because you say so.” her voice was defiant, sharp with the kind of stubbornness that jennie recognized all too well.
it was like looking into a mirror of her younger self. 
“you will leave. now. let’s go.” the older kim hissed in an icy tone, already getting near the end of her rope. “if that video gets around—”
“let them!” ivory snapped, cutting her mother off. “i don’t care what people think! and i could care less about your reputation.”
finally, her mother felt her frustration boil over at her daughter's dismissive attitude. “you think this is about my reputation?” she demanded, her voice rising in the crowded club, drawing unwanted attention. “this is about you, ivory! about your future! do you have any idea how damaging this could be?”
jane crossed her arms defiantly, her expression a mix of anger and stubbornness. “just because you couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean i can’t!” the words flew out of her mouth before she could think them through, fueled by a rush of adrenaline and resentment.
“really? you want to live your life? like this?” jennie gestured around them at the throng of partygoers, the flashing lights, and the chaos that felt so far removed from what she envisioned for her daughter. “you think this is living?”
but jane was done listening. she pulled away, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for a way to escape. “i’m not going anywhere with you. you always think you know what’s best, but you don’t. you’re just scared, and you’re trying to make me scared too.”
jennie noticed a few heads turning toward them, whispers circulating through the crowd. people had started to gather, a few phones in hand, potentially recording their fight. panic surged through jennie, urging her to act.
“please, valentine, let’s just go,” jennie pleaded, her voice lowering in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “we can talk about this later. just come with me—”
“no!” ivory shouted again, her voice ringing out against the booming music. “i don’t care what you say. i’m staying, and you can’t force me to leave. maybe i’ll stay right here and let them all see what a bad mother you are!”
the weight of her words felt like a slap, and jennie closed her eyes for a brief moment, willing herself to stay calm. jennie knew she was a bad mother, it was something she had come to accept years ago. hearing it from her own daughter didn’t make it hurt any less, though.
“honey, you’re not thinking clearly. we can’t have this fight here, not like this. please.”
but her daughter shook her head vehemently, a sense of defiance boiling over as she threw her arms up in frustration. maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the years of pent up emotions finally boiling through the surface. either way, the angry soul in front of jennie looked nothing like her daughter.
and for the first time in 18 years, jennie felt as if she was looking in a mirror. except it wasn’t her own reflection, it was his.
“i wish i was never your daughter.” ivory spat, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. the crowd around them murmured, and jennie felt a knot form in her stomach. “so stop acting like my mom because we both know you don’t deserve that title.”
time seemed to freeze as ivory’s declaration reverberated in jennie’s ears, the world around them fading into the background. for a moment, all jennie could see was the hurt radiating from her daughter, and for the first time, she recognized the echo of her own past mistakes in ivory’s anger.
“you don’t mean it.” her mother immediately replied, eyes steeled and hardened against any more words her daughter would throw at her face. but ivory’s face twisted with raw emotion, and her voice was firm. her chest rose and fell harshly, clearly still worked up with emotion. before she brushed past her mother, snapping one final time at her before disappearing into the crowd.
“leave. me. alone.”
the video went viral in less than 24 hours. media outlets spread and circulated rumors and interpretations of it in every country and every language. everyone was asking the same thing: is jennie kim a mother?
jennie’s heart raced as her management team formed a protective barrier around her, pushing her toward the gate amidst the chaos. reporters shouted questions from all directions, their cameras flashing like strobe lights.
“jennie! is it true you have a daughter?” one reporter yelled, shoving a microphone in her face. “can you confirm the fight from last night?” another pressed, the crowd surging closer. “where is ivory?” a voice cut through the noise, and jennie felt her stomach drop. the constant barrage of questions felt like an insurmountable weight, pressing down on her while she fought to keep her composure.
jennie could feel panic setting in quickly as she tried to keep moving forward. she could see the gate ahead, but the closer she got, the more overwhelming the situation became. her team urged her on, their voices calm yet insistent, “keep moving, jennie. just keep walking.”
but her thoughts were racing in a different direction. where was ivory? the panic clawed at her insides as she scanned the crowd, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her daughter’s familiar figure. each face in the throng blurred together, and the noise grew deafening.
“miss kim, please! can you comment on the video?”
“is it true you’re estranged from your daughter?”
“jennie, do your members know about any of this?”
she felt like she was suffocating, each question a reminder of the distance that had grown between her and ivory. “i can’t—i have to go back!” she managed to shout, but her management was relentless, practically pushing her through the throng as the gate loomed closer.
“no! we’re almost there,” one of her managers urged, keeping his hand firmly on her back. but with every step, the weight of worry grew heavier, anchoring her down. she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was abandoning her daughter, leaving her behind in a city that felt so foreign and chaotic.
“come on, just a few more steps!” another voice chimed in, but all she could think about was how she hadn’t been there for ivory when it mattered most.
they finally reached the gate, and as her team ushered her through the boarding process, she felt a swell of frustration. she wanted to turn back, to break free and search for ivory. but as they pushed her into the plane, she realized she was trapped—both physically and emotionally.
the flight attendants closed the door behind her, and as she settled into her seat, jennie buried her face in her hands, a wave of despair crashing over her. she felt completely helpless, torn between the world’s scrutiny and her desperate need to find her daughter. 
however, what jennie kim didn’t know was that ivory had taken an earlier flight right after leaving her mother in the club. and what the older idol also didn’t know was the mob waiting to crucify her daughter once she touched down in seoul.
ivory stood frozen, panic rising like a tide as the crowd surged forward. shouts and jeers rained down, and it felt as if the world had conspired against her. “holy shit,” the teenager muttered under her breath, pulling her cap below her eyes even further. it looked like a light show with how many cameras were going off. 
“form a wall!” one of her managers shouted, urgency lacing their voice. they quickly moved to surround her, creating a protective barrier against the hostile crowd. the team linked arms, shielding ivory from the hateful words and agitated crowd that sought to tear her down.
“back off! give her space!” another manager yelled, pushing back against the onslaught of reporters and fans. the team worked in unison, their presence a solid wall that blocked the chaos, but jane could still hear the shouts cutting through the air.
“why are you hiding behind your mother’s fame?” someone yelled, and it pierced through the clamor, sinking into ivory's chest like a dagger. “fucking brat, you don’t deserve jennie as a mother!”
with her heart racing and breath coming in jagged gasps, ivory felt the walls of her makeshift fortress closing in around her. the air felt heavy, and the shouting, combined with the crushing pressure of the crowd, sent her spiraling further into panic. the team’s efforts to protect her felt futile against the overwhelming tide of animosity.
“i can’t breathe,” she thought to herself, struggling against the tightness in her chest. she dug her nails into her palms, trying to steady herself as her management continued to shout for order. but their voices faded into a blur, the crowd's noise morphing into a deafening roar.
a few objects went flying over her head, thankfully missing her as the management team tightened their formation, creating a more impenetrable barrier around her. ivory’s heart raced as she felt the tension in the air escalate, the crowd growing more volatile with each passing moment. the sound of her own heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else.
“i can’t do this,” she thought again, feeling utterly lost. the noise felt like it was suffocating her, each shout morphing into a mocking echo of her own insecurities. “why did i do that?”
as the objects continued to sail over her head, she flinched at the sound of something glass shattering nearby. the world felt chaotic and terrifying, and in that moment, the isolation of her panic attack set in. it was as if a spotlight was focused solely on her, and every eye in the crowd bore witness to her unraveling.
“stay with us, ivory! you’re okay!” one of her managers urged, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, grounding her in reality. their presence was a lifeline, but the overwhelming emotions were threatening to pull her under again.
she wanted to scream, to lash out and throw things back at the reporters and people who tried to harm her. instead, she forced herself to breathe, to take in small gasps of air that felt sharp and painful against her chest. “just breathe, just breathe,” she repeated in her mind, willing herself to find some semblance of calm.
but the crowd wasn’t done. “is jennie your mother? are you ashamed of her?” came another shout, and ivory’s heart sank further. she felt the weight of that question, an accusation that cut deeper than any object thrown her way. 
did they think she was ashamed? did they think she wanted this?
tears streamed down her cheeks as she wrestled with the conflicting emotions inside her. it wasn’t shame she felt, but anger at how everything had spiraled out of control. she was overwhelmed, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.
and whether or not she wanted to admit it or not, part of her even wanted her mother.
“listen to me, ivory! focus on my voice!” another manager shouted, pushing through the chaos to keep her attention. the urgency in their tone cut through her panic, grounding her even more. “there’s the door right there. the car is already out front!”
the brunette nodded, though the tears continued to flow as they began to guide her toward the exit. the crowd was still shouting, a cacophony of harsh words and intrusive questions. she felt a wave of shame wash over her, but she forced herself to keep moving, her management creating a protective wall around her as they rushed toward the car.
as soon as they reached the vehicle, her body sagged against the cool metal of the door, and she let out a shaky breath. the moment they closed the door behind her, the noise from the outside world faded to a muffled echo, leaving only the sound of her own ragged breathing.
but the reprieve was short-lived. as soon as the car pulled away, the floodgates opened. the panic that had held her captive in the airport spilled over, and ivory broke down, sobs wracking her body. the emotional turmoil she had bottled up exploded in a torrent of grief, regret, and frustration.
and a few short hours later, once jennie touched down in korea, she felt a different type of anger and pain watching the videos of her daughter’s arrival. the phone shook in her hand, her free one holding her pant leg in a vice-like grip. with knuckles of ivory, she immediately called her company while waiting to be let off the plane. the dial tone rang for a few seconds before the other line picked up.
"sue them all. every single one of them."
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lewisvinga · 3 months
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my special girls | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; one of the greatest days in lewis’ life, his 104th win and the birth of his daughter.
warnings; mentions of pregnancy/labor, probs labor inaccuracies
word count; 1.4k
all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts
note; i need to see more lewis fics after 104th🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️BUT ALZKLALSSM 104TH THATS MY GOATTTT THATS WHY HE’S THE GOATT😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
masterlist !
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
The Mercedes garage was tense, more tense than usual. The final laps of the British Grand Prix made everyone nervous and anxious. Lewis was just laps away from his 104th win.
Both George, who unfortunately had to retire due to issues with his car, and Carmen stood by a very anxious 9-month pregnant Y/n Hamilton. Although Lewis advised his wife to stay home due to how far along she was in her pregnancy despite it being his home race, she refused.
Carmen held onto her hand, their eyes focused on the screen as the final lap began. Although she was also upset with what happened to George, the couple couldn’t help but feel happy for the 7x world champion.
Time seemed to pass by slowly as Lewis drove around the final corners. Y/n didn’t notice anything happening around her, her focus completely on the screen.
‘Lewis Hamilton wins the 2024 British Grand Prix.’
Those 8 words the married couple longed to hear were finally being said. Y/n carefully but quickly jumped up from her seat, cheering loudly as her husband passed the checked flag. With one hand around her pregnant stomach and the other being thrown in the air while crying, she didn’t even notice the faint cramping in her abdomen.
The team rushed to meet up with Lewis, Carmen staying behind to help Y/n who slowly waddled behind the rushing team. She couldn’t hold back her tears as she watched her husband hugging his father in tears.
She stayed with the Spanish girl, not wanting to be within the grand crowd for safety reasons. Her vision was cloudy from tears. There were black smudges around her eyes as she carefully wiped her eyes to not mess up her cheeks.
Through her teary eyes, she could see the deep brown eyes she fell in love with years ago right in front of her.
Lewis carefully wrapped his arms around her, keeping a hand on her stomach. “My loves.” He whispered, pressing a kiss against her plump lips. “You both okay?
Y/n reaches up to carefully wipe the stray tears on his cheek. “Worrying about me after winning?” She teases through tears. “We’re fine and we’re so proud of you.” She cradled his face in her hands.
Only she knew how much Lewis had truly struggled after that day in 2021. She knew the mental anguish he went through whenever a race went poorly, so desperate to prove to others he was still as good as he was in his prime. She knew how hurt he had been with what was happening with Mercedes, wanting to spend his last season with the German team in a good way.
It seemed everything he had been through was worth it when Y/n revealed she was pregnant. Suddenly, everything didn’t matter. He just wanted to be there for his wife and child.
9 months later, he was washed over with a large wave of emotions as he passed the checkered flag knowing his pregnant wife was in the crowd.
“Gotta make sure my girls are okay,” Lewis mumbled, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Her long nails gently scratched his scalp. She hummed as she felt him press a kiss on her shoulder. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” Y/n whispered back as he lifted his head from her hold. She gestured toward where the reporter was waiting for a quick post-race interview before the podium. “Go, my love, we’ll be waiting for you after you’re all done.”
With one last kiss, Lewis left her to do his post-race interview. She left with Carmen to slowly waddle walk back to the garage. She didn’t feel quite comfortable being part of the crowd during the podium celebration so she opted to watch from the TV in the garage.
They had barely made it back when Y/n suddenly felt another sharp pain in her abdomen. She felt a small puddle of liquid by her feet. Carmen and her look down at the puddle before making eye contact.
“The baby?” The Spanish girl questioned, trailing off when the pregnant woman nodded.
“Is coming.”
Lewis’s mother, Carmen, had kept a close eye on her daughter-in-law the entire day. She noticed the panicked look on both of the girls’ faces and rushed over to them. “Is everything alright, dear?”
“Her water broke.” The Spanish girl explained, keeping her hand interlocked with the laboring woman.
“Don’t tell Lewis yet. I want him to enjoy this day.” Y/n said in between deep breaths. Before either woman could protest, she added, “Do not test me right now. The contractions aren’t bad yet and I don’t want to go to the hospital until there are a few minutes in between.”
“Let’s take you to his driver's room then, dear.” The elder Carmen says, taking her daughter-in-law in her arms and helping her. The younger Carmen followed behind due to the two becoming quite close.
Time had passed and Lewis was finishing up all his media duties. He wanted nothing more than to be in the embrace of his wife on such a special day. His eyebrows furrowed up when he couldn’t find her in the garage. He looked around confused until he saw Carmen appear out of his motor room looking distressed as she spoke with George who was waiting outside.
“What's going on?” Lewis asked confused, feeling a surge of worry running through his veins.
“Y/n, her water broke earlier and we wanted to get you but she refused! Your mom only let her refuse because her contractions weren’t too bad yet,” The Spanish girl explained to Y/n’s worried husband. “But they’re getting closer now so I came to get you and-“
Lewis didn’t let her finish before rushing into his motorhome. He spotted Y/n leaning against the wall with his mother supporting her by her arm. “My love, why’d you wait this long?” He softly says, quietly thanking his mother before taking her place with his wife.
“Wanted you to enjoy this day and your win-“
“But you’re pregnant and in labor. This is far more important and urgent.”
“So does that mean we can go to the hospital now?”
Lewis sighed, shaking his head as a smile crept up on his lips. He turned to his mom before grabbing Y/n’s bag, “I’ll take her now. I’ll keep you updated.”
His mother simply nodded and gave her son a kiss on his cheek. She gives Y/n an encouraging smile before whispering, “If your daughter is anything like my son, it’ll be a fast delivery.”
Y/n chuckled at her words before waving goodbye to her. Lewis sighed as he easily scooped her up in his arms. Fortunately, George had called an ambulance which was waiting by the entrance of the paddock just in time.
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Although winning after so long at home was so special to Lewis, he knew nothing could beat what he currently felt as he cradled the tiny baby in his arms.
Hours before he held the golden trophy signifying he won his 104th race. Now, he’s holding one of the most important girls in his life.
Just like her father, little Ophelia came out fast. Y/n was only in the hospital for an hour or so before it was time for her to push. Tears hadn’t stopped flowing from their faces from the moment Lewis won to even after Ophelia’s birth.
“What a day.” Y/n sleepily chuckled, waking up from a nap that had been knocked out for a while. Lewis turned around with a sleeping Ophelia still in his arms. “You win a race and you get a daughter who is identical to you even if I carried her for 9 months?”
“How are you feeling?” He asked his wife who scooted over to the side, signaling for him to sit next to her.
“Tired. Happy, but tired.” She immediately melted into his side.
She gently runs her finger over Ophelia’s cheek. The newborn was still in deep sleep, clearly exhausted after being born just a few hours earlier.
Lewis couldn’t help but admire the two. June 7th was undoubtedly one of the happiest days of his life. He’s won many times before. He’s won trophies and world championships. Winning at home after 3 years was something special. But winning in life with his wife by his side and his daughter in his arms was something unexplainable.
He leaned down to press a kiss on Ophelia’s forehead before pressing a kiss against Y/n’s lips. “Don’t know what I’d do without you two. My special girls.”
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girlgenius1111 · 1 month
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casts, broken arms, & snuggles
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alexia putellas x reader - part of the mila verse :)
an accident at the park pulls alexia from training and to the hospital, where she finds both her girls not doing their best. everyone is very overwhelmed with their feelings, and maybe don't handle it the way they should. basically, protective panicked alexia and insecure reader. a bit of angst / injuries / concussions symptoms, mostly fluff.
------
You knew Alexia would panic. There wasn’t much you could do about that. Especially not when the only way you had to reach her was through the staff. It was somewhat of a bad omen within the team, having a staff member walk outside with a phone call for you. It only happened in an emergency, and unfortunately, this definitely counted as an emergency. When one of the assistant coaches, Xavi, answered the phone, he seemed to be on the same page as you. 
“Try to act calm, otherwise she’ll just freak out.” 
“I am not sure there is much I can do to avoid her having a nervous breakdown.” Xavi stated. You heard him call Alexia over, and tried to shush the very upset almost 3 year old in your arms. 
“Amor, what is wrong?”Alexia asked, practically tearing the phone out of Xavi’s hand as soon as she heard who was calling. 
“Everything is fine, okay? There was just a little accident.” You began, speaking in a soothing, calming tone, the same one you’d been using on the baby. 
“What kind of accident?” 
“Meels fell at the park-” 
“¡AY DIOS MIO!” Alexia shouted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 
“Ale, breathe. She fell off the slide and I think her arm might be broken. She won’t let me touch it and she hasn’t stopped crying.”
“Broken?!” Alexia squeaked. 
“Ow.” Mila whimpered, frowning unhappily at her arm from where she sat in your lap. “Hurts, Mama.” 
“I know, baby.” You told her. “Ale, the ambulance is here to take us to the hospital do you-” 
“What were you doing? Were you not watching her? Why weren't you watching her, why did she fall?” Alexia snapped. 
You bit back the retort you had ready, knowing this was just a result of her fear for Mila. You weren’t happy with what she’d said, but that could be dealt with later. “We’re leaving now for the hospital. Meet us there.” You said coldly, before hanging up the phone without saying anything else. Alright, you were pretty upset, and you let it show. You had already been beating yourself up for what had happened, thinking the things that Alexia had said. 
As you and Mila got loaded into the ambulance, you realized you hadn’t mentioned something important to your wife. No doubt, she was hauling ass to the hospital, so she’d find out soon enough.
-------
Alexia burst into the room in a flutter of chaos, throwing the curtain aside and looking around frantically. Mila was sitting in your lap, holding her arm awkwardly away from her body, while you ran your fingers through her wavy brown hair and tried to keep her calm. Both of you looked at Alexia when she walked in, her panic clear on her face. She was sweaty, still in her training kit, and her eyes were only on her daughter.
“Mila, mi bebé,” she said gently, moving closer to the bed. 
“Mami!” Mila cried, a pout on her small face, holding her arm out for Alexia to see. She squirmed in your lap, trying to get closer to your wife, but you both made sure she stayed carefully where she was. 
“Pobrecita,” Alexia murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing repeated kisses to her baby’s head. She stared hard at Mila’s already swollen arm, trying to stifle her own tears. You weren’t pleased with Alexia, but you weren’t particularly upset that she hadn’t even glanced at you, her attention fully on Mila. “What happened?” 
Mila’s voice wobbled as she began to talk, reaching out with her good hand to grip onto a few of Alexia’s fingers.. “Fell! Off the slide. Mama tried to catch me, but now she has an ouchie too.” 
Alexia’s eyes flew to you, seeing for the first time the towel and large ice pack pressed to the back of your head. Her heart sank. She knew before that she would have to apologize for what she had said, and now she knew she’d have to do even more groveling. Especially if the hurt look on your face was any indication. 
“Amor,” she sighed, reaching for your hand. You pulled it away, refusing to make eye contact with her. 
“I’m fine.” You dismissed. “Mila’s got a basic fracture, just a month or so in a cast to fix it. They’ll be in to put it on soon.” 
“Mama needs stitches.” Mila whispered conspiratorially to her Mami. 
Alexia’s face grew, somehow, even more upset. “What happened, mi amor?” 
Still avoiding her eyes, you spoke quietly. “I was going to catch her at the bottom of the slide, but she stood up at the top and fell off the side.” 
“And your head?” Alexia asked, leaning closer to try and inspect your injury. Mila looked up at you with concern, her expression matching her Mami’s almost exactly. Where Alexia’s fingers were gentle as they cradled your head, Mila’s were clumsy and clunky as she tried to run her fingers through your hair. It was something you did to make her feel better, and she thought that maybe it would make your frown go away, too. 
“I tried to catch her in time, but I slipped and hit my head on the edge of the slide. And I didn’t really catch her.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed at that fact. Alexia would have caught Mila, you were sure. 
“It’s okay, Mama, you tried your best!” Mila said encouragingly, parroting back something you and Alexia must have told her a hundred times. Her arm temporarily forgotten, Mila shifted so she could lean up and press a kiss to your cheek, before she snuggled closer to your chest. 
Your wife’s eyes were stuck on your daughter, practically turning into hearts as she took in how sweet and caring her baby was. You couldn’t blame her; you felt the same. That you had created such a perfect little person would never cease to amaze you. 
“Thank you, my baby.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you shifted, trying to keep Mila’s arm in a safe position. Every movement of your upper body sent waves of pain through your head, but you didn’t want Mila to know how upset you were. 
“Mi amor, I-”
Whatever Alexia was about to say was cut off completely as the doctor entered the room, introducing herself to your wife, and beginning to talk Mila through the process of getting the cast put on. There were some tears, wiped away quickly by her Mami, as they began to wrap up her arm. 
Once the nurses had taken over, and began adding the colored plaster to the cast, and Mila was suitably distracted, the doctor regarded you. 
“Alright, let’s get that head wound taken care of.” She said kindly, motioning you over to a chair in the corner of the room. She stood by your head, beginning to clean the wound and prepare to stitch it up.
You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep your wincing to a minimum. Alexia watched on worriedly from her spot next to Mila, knowing how much you hated needles. The midfielder so wanted to comfort you through this, but she also didn’t want to leave Mila alone if she was still upset. So, she did what you’d spent many years helping her do, and communicated. 
“Milabear? Can I go hold your Mama’s hand while she gets her stitches?” She whispered, heart melting at how Mila looked over at you, and nodded enthusiastically. 
“Go help Mama.” She said bravely, feeling much better now that she had her red cast on her arm, and that the nurse had given her some goldfish. Mila munched away happily, her eyes trained on the TV hanging on the wall, and Alexia had never been more grateful for having such an independent and resilient child than she was in that moment. 
Your eyes were still shut, a few tears escaping as you tried very hard to act like the adult you were. You startled a bit when Alexia crouched in front of you and took your hand. Opening your eyes, you tried to breathe deeply, feeling the doctor begin to thread the needle through the skin of your scalp. A small, rather pathetic whimper fell from your lips, and Alexia brought your hand to her lips, pressing kisses to the back of it. Her adoring gaze only made more tears fall, and you felt completely ridiculous. 
“You are okay, amor. It will be over soon.” 
Every tear that fell was gently swiped away by your wife. The doctor worked as carefully as she could, but there were still tugs on your skin that had shivers running down your spine, and your stomach churning. There was only so much Alexia could do to help, but luckily, it wasn’t a very large wound, and the doctor was done within a few minutes, cutting the excess thread and reaching for a white bandage. She wrapped that around your head, holding a piece of gauze in place, which really felt like overkill. 
“Okay, done.” The doctor announced, removing her gloves and stepping away from your chair. Alexia’s earlier words forgotten, you stood shakily to your feet, allowing yourself to fall into your wife’s open arms. 
“You did so good.” She whispered, smiling despite herself at the bandage wrapped around your head. You looked adorable, frowning up at her with tears in your eyes, looking somewhat like a disgruntled mummy. 
“Mama?” Mila called from her spot on the bed. 
You wiped at your eyes quickly, plastering a smile on your face as you walked over to your daughter. “Hi Meels.” 
“All better, Mama?” She asked, reaching both of her arms out for you to pick her up, which you did easily.
“All better.” You confirmed, holding her as close as you could. 
“Almost all better.” The doctor smiled, turning to your wife. “She has a mild concussion with the impact on the ground, so she’s going to need to take it easy for a few days. I am assuming you know concussion protocol, Ms. Putellas?” 
“Yes, yes of course.” Alexia said, her eyes squinting with concern as she studied you. “I will take good care of her.” 
“Me too!” Mila added, squirming in your hold until she could loop her arms around Alexia’s neck and shift over into her arms. 
Your wife very hesitantly pulled you into her as the doctor left the room. You tilted your head to make eye contact with her, still with a small frown on your face. It was clear that you were still upset with your wife, but the determination in her eyes told you she’d do anything to fix it. 
------
Apparently, anything consisted of making you sit on the couch next to Mila, holding an ice pack to your head, and not daring to move. Your wife went from room to room, collecting anything she had determined you or Mila might need. It was endearing, but also somewhat frustrating when she’d appear to hand you something, and go flitting off before you could just ask her for what you really wanted: for her to sit on the couch with the two of you, and relax. 
Stressed Alexia made you stressed, but you knew this was just how she was coping with what had happened today. Alexia always held a lot of guilt for the little moments she missed while at work; any milestone that Mila achieved while Alexia wasn’t around was downright painful for your wife. She was a protective person, and you knew she was even more bothered because both you and Mila were hurt, and she hadn’t been there to help either of you. 
You and Mila sat side by side, heads moving back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. In fact, you were just watching Alexia disappear and reappear with Mila’s favorite toy, a blanket, your favorite sweatshirt, a snack, some water, more ice, more painkillers and 6 different pillows for Mila to rest her cast on. You were exhausted just watching her. 
She appeared back in the living room like a ghost the minute you stood up, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders and gently pushing you back down onto the couch. 
“Ale, just let me-”
“No! Sit.” Alexia insisted, ignoring the small giggle from her daughter. 
You rolled your eyes, shrugging out from under her grip and standing anyway. “Alexia, I have to go to the bathroom. You can’t do that for me.” 
Alexia had the decency to blush, at least. “Okay. I’ll walk you there.” She decided, grabbing your hand and beginning to escort you to the bathroom. Honestly. 
Always her mother’s shadow, Mila got up too, and grabbed your other hand. “Mami I can-”
“No. Sit!” Alexia repeated, though with a small smile as she regarded her daughter. “Mila, you stay there. I can take care of everything.” 
“But Mami-”
“No! I can help Mama, you need to rest.” Your wife said, ignoring the amused look you were giving her, too focused on the attitude suddenly radiating off your daughter. 
“Mami. I have to go potty too.” Mila said exasperatedly. Ale blushed further, nodding as she allowed Mila to accompany you both towards the bathroom. You turned your snort of laughter into a fake cough, knowing that Alexia could be sensitive to being teased about her over protectiveness. And, well… it seemed Mila was holding her own in showing her Mami how ridiculous she was being. 
Once you’d arrived at the bathroom door, which took significantly longer than was necessary due to your wife and her mini-me insisting on walking slowly so as to not aggravate your head wound. You indulged them, only putting your foot down when both of them began to follow you into the bathroom. 
“No. Enough. I can do this myself.” You sighed, looking between both Alexia and Mila’s skeptical expressions. 
“But what if-”
“Mama, I can-”
You interrupted both of them by shutting the door and letting out a deep sigh. If you didn’t have a scar across your abdomen that told you that you’d birthed Mila, you’d be sure she was Alexia’s genetic clone. 
------
The rest of the night consisted of overwhelming amounts of hovering, from your wife and daughter both. Alexia took turns fussing over you, and fussing over Mila, until you were sure you were going to make her sleep on the couch or something, before she suggested waking you up every 20 minutes and performing a cognitive test. 
Alexia had just barely put Mila down in her toddler bed when she heard you call for her. There was urgency in your voice, but it was still obvious that you were trying to keep your voice down for Mila’s benefit. It had been hard enough to get the toddler to sleep; she had become suddenly very tearful once it was time for bed, because her favorite pajama shirt didn’t fit over her cast. It had taken one of Alexia’s t-shirts, around 45 minutes of cuddles, and 4 different stories, for her to finally settle. 
“Alexia,” you whisper yelled, shutting your eyes as the dizziness got worse. You heard Alexia rush down the hall towards you and willed yourself to hold on just a moment longer. 
Alexia ran into the room, seeing you with your head in your hands, sitting up in the bed. “What is it, amor?” 
“I’m gonna be sick,” you managed, pressing a hand to your mouth as Alexia sprung into action. 
“Okay, okay, just hold on one second.” 
Just in time, Alexia thrust the bedroom trash can in front of you. You were sick, retching into the trash can uncomfortably. Your wife pulled your hair back, being careful to not jostle the skin around your stitches, tying it into a very loose bun. She rubbed your back soothingly, pressing kisses into the side of your head until you were done. 
“Oh, amor, I am so sorry.” She murmured, taking the trash can from you once you were done. She was going to take it out of the room, but then she noticed the tears in your eyes, and decided that could wait until later. 
You curled into her when she sat by your legs and pulled you into her arms. Within a second, you were sobbing brokenly into her shirt, incapable of resisting how comforted you felt when she held you. 
Alexia whispered soft reassurances into your hair, beginning to think you were upset about more than just feeling so unwell. “Amor, is it your head? Or something else?” 
You shook your head weakly into her chest, sucking in a few breaths before you tried to respond. “Meels broke her arm and it’s all my fault.” You said miserably. 
“No no no, do not say that. It was not your fault, you did the best you could.” Alexia rushed to make you feel better, but that’s all it felt like; something she was saying just to make you feel better.
“You would have caught her.” 
Alexia’s chest squeezed uncomfortably, knowing that she was partially at fault for how guilty you felt right now. Even if what she’d said had been in the heat of the moment, and it was just a reflection of how upset she was, of course you’d taken it to heart. 
“It was an accident, mi amor. It is no one’s fault. Sometimes kids fall, sometimes they get hurt. It happens.”
“But Ale, it wouldn’t have happened if you had been with her. You’re just… so much better at this than I am.” You mumbled, refusing to untuck your face from Alexia’s shirt, even as she tried to get you to. 
“That is so not true.” Alexia insisted. “You cracked your head open trying to make sure Mila didn’t get hurt. That is not something a bad mother does.” 
You ignored her logic, wiping a tear away with that back of your hand. “You were right earlier. I should have been watching closer.”
Alexia shook her head again. “No. I was-“
“You blamed me then, what’s changed?” You snapped, not quite sure where all of these negative emotions were coming from, or why your mood was changing at the drop of a hat. Sad and guilty one second, angry the next. It wasn’t fair to Alexia, who was just trying to make you feel better, but there wasn’t any room for rationality in your jumbled head. 
Luckily, your wife didn’t seem to take your words or your tone personally. Instead, she tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead, showing more patience than you were sure you deserved.
“I don’t blame you. I was terrified earlier, but that is no excuse. This was not your fault and I’m sorry I made you feel like it was. So sorry, amor.” Her voice was sweet and you could feel how sincere she was, just from the way her hand gently cradled your cheek. 
Nodding shakily, you took a deep breath, suddenly feeling more than a little exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ale, I just-”
Alexia cut you off, though, placing her index finger over your lips. She looked stern again, like she had before when she was making sure you stayed on the couch and didn’t move. “It’s okay. No apologies. You are overwhelmed and hurt and exhausted. You need rest, we can talk about this more tomorrow if we need to.” 
You nodded your agreement, shifting uncomfortably as you glared down at your pillows. Your head absolutely throbbed, and you hadn’t even tried to rest it on the pillow yet. 
“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep.” You mumbled, brow furrowing in confusion when Alexia smiled cheekily at you.
“I do!” She said enthusiastically, quickly tucking herself under the covers and pulling you to lay on her chest. Your head was completely safe from any contact with anything, and you found so much peace in the steady thump of Alexia’s heartbeat in your ear. 
She was a miracle worker, Alexia. Just when you thought you were going to explode with the amount of thoughts swirling around in your head, she quieted your brain with a few words and a few kisses. 
Unfortunately, as comfortable as you were, sleep did not seem to be in the cards for either of you. At least, not yet. No sooner than your eyes had fallen shut, and Alexia had settled comfortably into the pillows did you both hear the creak of Mila’s door opening. 
You exchanged a glance with your wife, keeping completely silent, knowing that sometimes Mila would come check on you both during the night, before heading back to her room. You heard her little steps padding down the hall, a small gasp, and then a loud thump. 
Alexia was out of bed before Mila could even cry out. “Stay there!” She threw over her shoulder, causing you to sit back down on the bed with a grumble. You were glad Alexia hadn’t turned the light off earlier, as she sprinted carelessly out of the room towards your daughter. 
“Mama!” Mila sobbed, her little voice breaking your heart. She wanted you, and it took everything in you to not go to her in that moment, knowing that Alexia would bring her to you. 
“It’s okay, cariño, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, Mila’s cries becoming muffled by her Mami’s shirt. 
Still, you could make out her next words very clearly. “I want Mama,” Mila demanded. 
Alexia just shushed her, a few seconds passing before they both appeared in the doorway. Mila’s face was red and stained with tears, her cast cradled to her chest. She reached for you as soon as she saw you, and Alexia wasted no time in bringing her over. 
“Careful, Milabear,” she reminded softly, handing the toddler over to you. Mila curled up against your chest, and you rubbed her back soothingly, exchanging a worried glance with your wife. 
Mila was a rough and tumble kid; she fell often, and really only cried if she was actually hurt. Sometimes, not even then. She was like her Mami in that way, so her inconsolable tears now terrified you. 
“I think she tripped over my shirt.” Alexia murmured, running her hands through her daughter’s hair. Dressed in one of Alexia’s old warm up shirts, Mila surely had tripped over the hem of it. You could see this information really sinking into your wife’s head, as she began to gnaw on her bottom lip, worry and guilt clouding her face.  
“Baby, did you trip?” You asked, easing Mila away from your body so you could get a good look at her face. She nodded, looking between you and your wife, her bottom lip jutting out adorably. 
“Woke up and my arm hurt, and I wanted to sleep in here but I couldn’t see and I fell.” Mila said. “Mama’s shirt is too big.” She continued forlornly, as if just now realizing this piece of information. 
Alexia looked truly distressed, opening her mouth to apologize for allowing Mila to sleep in her shirt, even though you knew the toddler had cried and cried until Alexia had finally given in to what she wanted, if only so she could sleep. You spoke before Alexia could, though, pushing a lock of hair out of your baby’s face. 
“Did you bump your arm when you fell?” You asked. Mila nodded, sniffling sadly. “Does it hurt a lot more or just a little bit more?” 
“A lot at first. Just a little bit now.” Mila said bravely, peeking at her Mami out of the corner of her eye. She loved to act tough, your little girl, but she was only three, and broken bones hurt. 
Alexia still hovered on your side of the bed, looking like she wanted to cry. 
“Alright, Mami will go get you some ice, and you can sleep in here with us tonight. Deal?” 
Mila nodded, flopping forward again to rest on your chest. The fact that her mood didn’t even really lift when you told her she could sleep with the two of you told you that she was really hurting. 
Without a word, only a soft kiss placed on Mila’s forehead, Alexia headed for the freezer. She walked calmly out of the room, but both you and Mila heard the unmistakable sound of her running her way to the kitchen, and running back. 
“Mami’s running.” Mila said, a small smile adorning her face. You laughed quietly, doing your best to keep your smile in check as Alexia slowed to a walk just before walking through the bedroom door, acting as though she’d walked the whole way. 
The blonde had returned with the biggest ice pack you had, the one that she’d used on her knee. She wrapped it meticulously around Mila’s arm, handed her a small sippy cup [of what looked suspiciously like juice, even though Mila was only supposed to have water this late at night], and some children’s pain medicine. 
It was only when Alexia slipped back into bed that she spoke, addressing her daughter with a deep sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry about your shirt, cariño, I shouldn’t have let you wear it.” 
Mila gave her a strange look, scooting out of your lap to lay directly on top of your wife. Her little fingers grabbed onto her Mami’s shirt, even the one’s restrained by her cast twisting into the fabric. “It’s okay, Mami. Was an accident.” 
You smiled at your girls, watching Alexia’s face melt from guilt into adoration as she leaned down to kiss all over Mila’s face. Your daughter giggled, and your heart soared at the sound, more than happy that she had stopped crying and cheered up. 
Mila settled back down against her Mami, reaching one hand out to latch onto your shirt and attempt to pull you closer. “Mama, closer.” She complained, huffing when you didn’t budge. 
Alexia frowned, worried you would put yourself into an uncomfortable position with your head in order to make Mila happy, but luckily, your daughter seemed to have the same thought. 
“Not on your back Mama! You gotta lay on your front. Here, lay on Mami.” Mila offered, whacking Alexia in the face with her cast as she struggled to move over. You snorted at the disgruntled look on your wife’s face, ignoring the fake glare she sent back your way.
It took some maneuvering from everyone involved before Mila was curled up against one side of Alexia’s chest, and you were resting with your cheek pressed into on the other side. Only once you and Mila were both comfy did Alexia kiss Mila on the forehead, and you chastly on the lips. 
And it was only when Mila had drifted off, soft puffs of air leaving her as she gripped onto both you and your wife, that you relaxed. Alexia gave you a knowing smile, well aware that your daughter's insistence that you hold her when she’d gotten hurt, and that you be included in the bedtime snuggles, had put to rest your worries that you’d failed her today. 
It all evened out, in parenthood. You couldn’t forget that. Tomorrow, when Alexia would turn away for a split second too long during breakfast and Mila would end up with syrup in her hair, you’d be even more sure of that. Mistakes didn’t change how much you or Alexia loved Mila, or how much she loved both of you. 
Mila didn’t keep score. She just loved you both, and that was that. 
-----
this has been in my drafts for genuienly several months so i apologize if it doesn't feel very cohesive. hope you enjoy anyway 🙂🫶🏻 thanks for reading 🫡🥰
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darkpoisonouslove · 2 years
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This scene is emotionally touching but narratively it's absolutely atrocious.
#erda#og post#character: actual devil woman#why is she so upset about her daughter when no one is around if later we're going to find out that she hated the girl since she stole her?#make it make sense#why pretend if no one will see?#i do feel like they were initially intending to make her somewhat more complex and human but then they gave up#or more likely they were trying to give a fake reason to the viewers about why she's going to hate this new woman in her son-in-law's life#they wanted the viewers to think that she misses her daughter and doesn't want her to be replaced so that the reveal later#would be shocking when it turned out that she actually hates this new woman because on some level she can feel it's the girl she stole#that's probably why they're really playing up the angle of everyone thinking the mc is this other woman everyone is looking for#because they want you to think it's her and not the mc#but the thing is that the bulgarian dub has changed the title of the show - subtly but significantly - and it was clear from the start#what the twist is so to me this feels unnecessary#but i can see the writers going “hehehe we're gonna make everyone think the male lead is falling for the woman who kind of killed his wife”#“only to then turn around and reveal that she IS his wife”#but that effect was totally lost on me and the rest of the bulgarian audience bc they used the identity switch to market the thing here#lmao they said “the author is dead and there's enough other shit going on here to keep people interested even if we spoil the main twist”#anyway the scene in question still doesn't make sense bc there is no reason for the actual devil woman to pretend to be upset
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hadersversion · 1 month
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yet another drabble about dad!logan because i’m watching the wolverine and love sick over this man!
obviously logan is a girl dad…as we seen many many many times. i can definitely see him wanting a BIG family, once you got him started and he’s seen you pregnant with HIS child? oh, that motherfucker will BECOME a mother fucker. he’s like a rabbit with you, constantly on you.
the one thing i keep picturing is the two of you setting up the nursery together. he obviously did the heavy lifting and painting, which cause a fight between the two of you constantly. “im pregnant, lo. i can do somethings, ya know?” “i know, bub, why don’t ya set up the library while i finish putting the dresser together?” it’s all about compromise…in some way? but the two of you spend hours in there together, trying your hardest not to lose your mind over ikea’s confusing directions and the missing screw that fell somewhere in the room. logan is trying not to lose his cool in front of you, mumbling under his breathe. but you know once you leave the room, he shouts swears and knocks the boxes over. it makes you laugh as you grab waters in the kitchen. but once the nursery is done, you two are so exhausted you fall asleep on the floor using the baby’s new pillows. though it was sort of uncomfortable, you two felt content knowing that the room was done and your baby would be here soon.
but your first kid is a girl, his heart swells when he sees you holding this perfect bundle of joy that’s a perfect combination of the two of you. but you swear a tear leaves his eye when that beautiful baby girl opens her eyes and they look exactly like yours…logan never had a favorite color before until he looked into your eyes. and now he gets to see it even more through your daughter. you knew logan was protective over you, that was a given. especially since you were pregnant but once the second his daughter came into the world, you could’ve swore he took over the role of mama bear. he would hover over ANYONE that touched them, made sure they washed and sanitized their hands multiple times, he would even ask people if they were feeling sick before they even entered the room. you had to convince him people didn’t need to wear a mask and gloves in the hospital room. but once the team met baby wolvie, he felt at ease. a little prideful showing off your guys’ daughter, actually showing off his smile to show just how happy he is.
he’s definitely going 10 mph on the drive home, cursing under his breathe at people beeping and swerving around him, not wanting to yell in front of the baby. “logan, you can speed up a little bit. she’s not going to fly out of her car seat.” “stop being a backseat driver, would ya hun? i got this.” “whatever you say old man.”
the first night was obviously tough with the baby crying and making a fuss over everything. you cried, logan held you, you both were frustrated and upset. it was tough, you knew it wasn’t easy but holy hell this was shit. but you had that support system, the man you loved helping and comforting you. but once that sweet baby girl settled in your arms and finally slept longer for an hour, you both gave each other a tired smile as he kissed your head. “you’re glowing, mama. absolutely gorgeous.” “shut up, i know i look like shit.” “shut the hell up, why would you say that?” “because you look like shit, papa.” you both laugh and pass out on the couch, receiving the best sleep ever in each others arms. until the baby monitor goes off less than two hours later.
🎀🦢💓kaila🎀🦢💓
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shockercoco · 2 months
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Excuse Me?
Benny Cross x reader
Warnings - just fluff, dad!benny, some swear words
Word count - 2105
a/n - read the full request here - this was supposed to be posted a couple days after I got the request, but my headaches decided to come back, so here we are 2 weeks later lol. I hope you enjoy :)
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“Sweetheart, you can’t just grab everything you see and throw it into the basket,” Benny sighs as he looks down at his daughter.
Little Violet was standing on her tippy toes trying to put a bag of chips inside the basket Benny was holding, but she froze at the sound of Benny’s voice. She drops her hands to her sides before pouting up at Benny. 
“Don’t give me that look. Mommy gave us a list and told us to only buy what we need. We don’t wanna make mommy upset do we?” Benny gives Violet a look, causing her to stomp back down the aisle to put the chip bag on the shelf. 
Benny held in his laugh because he knew it would only upset Violet more. 
Before you left for work that morning, you had looked through the pantry to see what you needed to buy from the store on your way home. The grocery store was right next to the cosmetics store where you worked, so you didn’t mind stopping by after.
Benny thought it would be a good idea to get some fresh air with Violet, so he offered to go shopping for you — this way, he could kill two birds with one stone and also give you a ride home. 
You were hesitant at first because Benny wasn’t the best at picking out the correct items, and you knew Violet would give Benny a hard time and beg him to buy anything that looked interesting to her four-year-old eyes. Since you were running late and didn’t have the time to mull it over, you agreed and quickly jotted down everything you needed on a piece of paper.
So now here the troublesome pair was in the store making their way down the list and the aisles. 
“Do you wanna help daddy finish the list?” Benny asks Violet, trying to cheer her up.
She was still pouting, but now she had her arms crossed as she walked alongside her father. Violet shook her head at Benny and kept looking down at the ground.
It’s obvious where Violet gets her stubbornness from..
Benny rolls his eyes as he bends down to Violet’s eye level. “You know it’s not nice to ignore someone, we’ve talked about this,” Benny says, but Violet still doesn’t look up at him.
Then he gets an idea.
“Okay, how about this. You help me, and I’ll let you pick out something for yourself before we leave,” Benny tells her, and that catches Violet’s attention.
Violet looks at him for a second, before holding out one her hands and offering Benny her pinky. 
Benny smiles as he wraps his own pinky around his daughter’s. “I pinky promise.”
The rest of the grocery list gets crossed off easily — with Violet’s help — and as promised, Benny lets Violet roam the aisles to try and figure out what she wants. He thought it would be a quick thing, but Violet has been walking around for at least ten minutes.
“Sweetheart, it’s not that hard to make a decision,” Benny tells her as he glances down at his watch.
“I’m thinking!” she huffs. Benny throws his hands up in defense.
“What about the chips I told you to put back earlier, why don’t you just get those?” he suggests, growing impatient.
“No,” she glares up at him, before continuing down the aisle. Benny runs a hand down his face as he reluctantly follows her.
Finally, after a long process of elimination, Violet settles on a bag of candy. When Benny offers to hold it for her, she quickly draws her hand back, wanting to hold it herself.
“Okay miss independent,” Benny mumbles, but ignores her and heads towards the check out line.
Violet proudly hands the cashier her candy, which the girl gladly scans before handing it back to Violet with a smile.
“What do you say?” Benny asks Violet as he pulls out his wallet to pay.
“Thank you,” Violet smiles up at the cashier.
“Well, you are most welcome,” the cashier gushes at her, before looking back at Benny, “She is so cute.”
Benny quickly thanks her as he hands her cash for the groceries.
The cashier takes the money and counts it, and just as she begins to give Benny his change back she innocently asks, “Where’s her mother, is she around?” 
Benny was grossed out — one: because the girl looked kike she was in high school, and two: because the girl had the audacity to ask a question like that.
“Yeah,” he curtly says as he tucks the change back in his wallet. 
The girl seemed disappointed at Benny’s answer, but Benny didn’t care. He grabs Violet’s hand in one of his and grabs the grocery bags in the other before heading out the store.
“Why did she ask about mommy?” Violet asks, looking up at Benny.
“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, it’s not important,” Benny shakes his head. He’s glad when Violet quickly dismisses it and directs her attention to a tiny dog in some lady’s purse walking past them. The lady sees Violet eyeing the dog and stops to let her pet it.
After putting the groceries in the car and prying Violet away from the dog, Benny motions for Violet to hold his hand so they could start walking to your job and wait for your shift to finish.
 “Daddy, can we get a dog?” Violet asks as they walk, her bag of candy still in her other hand.
Benny’s about to respond and tell her no when a middle aged woman steps into his path. The lady had a couple bags of groceries in one of her hands and one hand on her hip, an unpleasant look on her face. Benny goes to step around her, but the lady quickly blocks him. 
When she opens her mouth, Benny expects her to address him, but instead the lady bends down to become eye level with his daughter. His grip tightens on Violet’s hand, but doesn’t make a move to do anything else, wanting to see what the woman has to say since it’s clearly important to her.
“Hey, sweetie, where’s your mother?” the woman asks Violet and Benny’s face contorts in frustration.
“What is up with these women today?” he thinks.
Violet opens her mouth to answer, but before she could get a word out, Benny speaks up. “Violet, we don’t talk to strangers, remember?”
Violet looks up and gives him a nod, quickly closing her mouth.
“Is there somethin’ I can help you with, ma’am?” Benny asks, trying to keep his tone pleasant in front of his daughter.
“Yeah, is this little girl yours?” she glares, standing back up to look at Benny.
What the fuck?
“What does it matter to you?” Benny asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I just want to know what someone like you is doing with a child,” the woman says.
“What? Do I know you or somethin’,” Benny questions.
“No, but I know all about you Vandals, and I know that you guys are nothing but trouble with all your motorcycles and drinking. Riding a bike is too important to you guys, making it impossible for you men to care about anything else, let alone a family.”
Benny wasn’t even wearing his colors today. After Violet was born, he stopped being so reckless and decided to stop riding so much. He didn’t want to be thrown in jail and have his daughter start her life without a father, not to mention the fact that he would be missing out on the beginning of her life.  
He rarely wears his colors or any type of leather in public anymore, so Benny’s confused on how this lady knows who he is. Then again, he used to cause a lot of trouble back then to the point where everyone knew who he was as soon as he stepped foot inside of a bar or restaurant. That was a long time ago, though, and Benny isn’t that lost soul anymore.
“Listen lady, you have no idea what you’re talking about, so if you’d please move out of the way, I’ll go about my day,” Benny says. He doesn’t wait for her to answer and tries to walk around her once again, but of course, she stops him.  Benny clenches his jaw.
“You’re not going anywhere until I know that this child is yours,” she folds her arms.
A few people stare at them as they walk by or get into their cars. 
“That’s none of your business,” Benny scoffs.
“It is when I’m concerned for this child’s wellbeing,” the lady states matter-of-factly, pointing down at Violet.
Violet looks up at her father in confusion. She’s not sure what’s going on, but since it’s obvious that Benny doesn’t like the lady in front of her, she decides that she shouldn’t like her either.
Benny lets out a frustrated sigh and looks at Violet to ask, “Violet, do you feel safe with me?”
Violet just nods, moving closer to Benny’s leg.
“See,” Benny says to the woman, “she’s fine.”
“That doesn’t mean anything at all,” the lady says.
“Listen, I don’t have time for this. Please move,” Benny tells her through gritted teeth. His patience is wearing thin.
But the lady doesn’t move, and instead continues to stare Benny down.
“What’s going on here?” you ask as you walk up behind the lady.
Benny and Violet were so occupied with the woman, that neither of them realized you were walking toward them. 
“Thank god, someone else is concerned,” the lady mumbles before turning to face you. “I just want to make sure that this little girl belongs to this man, but he’s being difficult.”
“The little girl looks fine to me,” you tell her, giving Violet a smile to which she happily returns.
“But you can’t be too sure of that, the man is practically squeezing this little girl’s arm to keep her next to him,” the lady says.
Your eyebrows furrow and you look over at Benny in confusion. Benny just shrugs and rolls his eyes.
“Well, I think it’s obvious that nothing strange is going on here, so why don’t you go,” you try to reassure the woman.
“I’m not going anywhere until I’m certain, I’ll call the police if I have to.”
“What’s your name?” you ask the lady, taking a couple steps closer to her.
“Cheryl,” she answers. 
“Listen, Cheryl, I don’t know why you think you’re trying to do, but it’s time for you to walk away. That man is my husband, and the child is mine. If that’s not enough for you, I don’t care. You clearly need attention so go find it from someone else, or better yet, get a life,” you say, walking past the lady to go stand next to Benny.
Cheryl’s mouth parts in disbelief as she looks between you and Benny.
“Is there anything else you’d like to say? Did you want to bitch and complain some more?” you ask. Benny's eyes widen in surprise, you rarely swear. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling.
Cheryl holds her head up high and clears her throat to reply, “I’ll be on my way.”
“Good. Go play vigilante somewhere else, bitch,” you roll your eyes.
The lady looks like wants to say something else, but she doesn’t. You watch her let out an annoyed breath before turning around and walking away.
When she’s out of earshot, you look up at Benny. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. She knew I was Vandal and just assumed the worst. It doesn’t really matter anymore,” Benny answers, watching the woman walk away.
“Looks like your past is coming up to you,” you let out a laugh resulting in Benny sending you a playful glare.
As you all start walking back to the car, Violet comes to your side and tugs your hand for you to look down at her. Benny watches as Violet holds her bag of candy up for you to see. 
“Uh oh,” he mumbles and pretends to be distracted by the keys in his hand.
“A whole bag, Benny? You couldn’t have just bought her a lollipop or something?” you look over at him and wait for him to look back at you.
“Well what was I supposed to do, say no?” he throws his hands up.
“Yeah, I do it all the time,” you nod.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d actually like to stay on her good side,” Benny says, placing his hand on top of Violet's head.
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luveline · 3 months
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kbd —your youngest daughter’s second birthday is hectic but perfect. dad!steve x mom!reader, 1.7k
“It’s crazy that she won’t remember.” 
“I know, but they remember all the love, right?” you say, stretching the neck of a balloon before attaching it to the hand-pump. “That’s what makes them happy kids. They were happy babies.”
Steve glances around the living room. There are shining cellophane banners on every wall, streamers in the eaves, bunting across the stairs and now balloons to be taped to the windows and hung from the ceiling. It’s five in the morning, and while you and Steve are both a tad slow with the clinging dregs of fatigue, neither of you are grumpy. It’s hardly much earlier than you wake up most days.
“I guess so,” Steve says, stretching his own balloon. 
“Even if she doesn’t remember, we’ll still remember,” you say with a shrug. “Don’t you remember Avery’s second birthday?” 
Steve remembers every birthday, and he gets your point. He wasn’t suggesting you make less effort and you know that, but it really freaks him out sometimes that the girls won’t remember their childhoods like he does. He’s telling you because he tells you everything.
“We got her a purple puppy teddy with those weird glass eyes and she accidentally hit you in the face really hard,” he says.
Steve remembers you pretending it didn’t hurt, and wiping the instinctive wetness from your eyes. You hadn’t been upset, but injuries near the sinuses make everybody cry. He’d wiped your tears away and he’d been deadly concerned; that was at a time where he was still marginally insecure about being a family, scared you’d one day realise you didn’t want it with him, that it was too hard and he was doing too little, every gentle caress of his thumb pleading with you not to hate him for it. 
But that was dramatic, in hindsight. When Avery noticed you were upset and began to cry too, you’d ducked away from Steve’s touch to pick her up and soothe her. You love Steve like breathing and Avery ten times as much. Your tears really were because you couldn’t help them.
“Ouch,” you say, slipping the balloon from the pump to tie around your two fingers. “I’m glad they don’t like Beanie Babies. That puppy almost took my teeth out.” 
He gives you a long look. “You’d still be cute without teeth, probably.” 
“Thank you.” 
You overestimate how much time you need to finish decorating. At 6AM you’re done, and at 7AM you’re napping, you and Steve with your heads pressed together on the couch, your snores blending into one sound. 
It’s Beth who wakes first sometime around 7:30. She doesn’t disturb you, only laughs at all the balloons and your strange predicament as she drags herself up the leather couch. It’s cracking now, you’ve had the same couch since she was born, but her dad always raves about it because he can wipe it clean with a clorox wipe. She avoids the spiky skin of it and curls up gently against Steve’s chest. She sniffs his shirt, and usually he senses someone’s close by to wrap an arm around them, but it’s you who feels her and covers her tummy with your hand. 
Upstairs, barely twenty minutes later, Dove wakes. She’s trapped in her cot and furious about it, whining behind a closed door, but luckily her best big sister Avery is waking up too. 
“Hi, Dove,” she says, beaming at her frowny sister, “it’s your birthday, did you know? Happy birthday!” Avery reaches arms just long enough to help Dove over the crib and onto the floor. “Wanna hol’ my hand?” 
“Okay.” 
Happier to be released, Dove and Avery backtrack to your bedroom and find it empty. “They must be downstairs,” Avery assumes. “Do you want socks?” 
Avery outfits them both in socks. You and Steve would be sorry you missed it if you knew it happened, Avery at her most gentle as she slips a pair of her socks over Dove’s tiny feet, and then her own. “Warm toes,” Avery says, “why does the floor get cold at night time?” 
Dove doesn’t know. She holds her hands out and Avery shakes her head. “Dad said I can’t carry you on the stairs. Come on, let’s go see what’s for breakfast. It’s your birthday so you can probably get to pick.” 
“Toast?” Dove asks. 
“Sure, Dove, I like toast. French toast? With cinnamon sugar?” 
They make it to the bottom of the stairs unharmed and find a hallway turned to a dreamscape. “Wow!” Avery says, pointing at the balloons. They’ve been taped into a rainbow arch around the door to the living room, and there are streamers hanging down as a curtain to walk through. 
Dove is pleasantly startled, her giggle one of promised excitement. “Wow!” she says. 
On the couch, Steve snorts awake. 
He blinks dry eyes, arms instinctively squeezing the small mass at his chest, worried he’s grabbed a kid and forgotten and the poor girls about to fall. After a second he gets his wits back and realises it’s only a dozing Beth, your hand sandwiched under his arm. 
He blows out a breath and finds the source of the commotion; Avery and Dove stands giggling in the doorway, the pink paper streamers kissing their faces as they look up at them. 
“Good morning!” he says, giving you a little nudge. “Dove, baby, it’s your birthday! Happy birthday! Can you see, the decorating fairies came when you were sleeping.” 
“Happy birthday!” you croak agreeably. 
“Thanks,” Beth says, rubbing her nose against his chest. 
“Not yours, sweetheart,” Steve says. 
“Okay.” She settles with a good pat on the back. 
For breakfast, Dove indeed wants French toast with ‘minnamin’, and you couldn’t be happier to make it. You sit her in her high chair with a pillow behind her back, you and Steve performing something of a dance as you rush to feed three hungry girls while satiating the birthday girl's demands. “You can have anything you want,” Steve promised. Why would he do that? Now Dove wants a kiss, and the bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, and another kiss, and Mommy, can we have cocoa? 
It’s hectic, but it’s fine. If she wants some hot cocoa of course she can have it, it’s just a lot to happen all at once. 
“Careful,” you say, lifting Steve’s arm away from the burner. He’s shifted the pan off of the heat and forgotten about it. “Ooh, saved your arm hair.” 
“Jesus,” he says, yanking his arm out of your touch, but more importantly, away from the heat. “Shit, sorry.” 
“Mom, can I have water please?” Beth asks. 
You lean up into the big cabinet full of glasses for her favourite plastic cup and rinse it out. You fill it from the jug in the fridge and put it down in front of her with a big kiss pressed to the back of her head. “Okay?” you ask. 
“Thank you.” 
“Avery, what are you gonna have to drink?” 
“Coffee.” 
“I don’t think so, little miss. Coffee isn’t very good for you, and it tastes strong.” 
Avery tries to stop you from walking away, so you stay, despite Steve’s scary-looking cooking. He’s dangerous about the heat. 
“What?” you ask, looking down at her. 
“Are you gonna give Dove the presents after breakfast?” she whispers. 
“Yeh, bub. Don’t worry, I wrapped yours last night.” 
She beams at you. She’d stuck up in bed like a dagger when she remembered she hadn’t wrapped it, but you promised to do it if only to get her to go to sleep. 
She hums as you tip her head back and tap your noses together, upside down.
“And… ta da!” Steve puts a plate of chopped up French toast and sugar soaked fruits in front of the birthday girl. The toast is thick and browned, but cut into little squares so she can’t choke. “Birthday breakfast for my beautiful girl.” He kisses her chubby cheek. 
“Who’s next?” he asks, pulling up. “Bethie, you want French toast too?” 
“Yes, please.” 
“You want to help me make it?” 
“I can?” she asks, propping herself with two hands on the table. 
“Steve, please be careful,” you beg. 
“What, like I’m gonna let her get burned?” 
He scoops Beth up. You wrap your arms in front of Avery with your chin atop her head, two girly shields to protect you from the oncoming argument. 
In her high chair, Dove laughs around a mouthful of raspberries and bread. “Dad, stop frowning!” she demands. Frowning sounds like ‘fwoming’ and raspberry juice stains her chin, but it is her birthday, so you and Steve leave your playful arguing for another time. 
“You’re on my list,” he whispers threateningly. 
You pull up a seat between Dove and Avey to make sure Dove doesn’t hurt herself in her greed. “You’re on my list.” 
Dove doesn’t need help eating anymore, but she seems to enjoy the attention, so you begin feeding her one forkful of yummy sugary breakfast at a time. “Want maple syrup?” you ask her. 
Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Yes!” 
“Okay, baby. Dad, can we get some syrup over here?” 
“Lazy, awful woman. What happened to her legs?” he asks Beth, who giggles like she knows she shouldn’t laugh. 
Dove smiles. She looks as happy as she ever has, with her slept-in pyjamas and her bed head, pink on her lips, brown sugar dusting the front of her nose. “I can’t believe you’re already two,” you say, wiping her nose gently. “Is that yummy?” 
“Yummy,” she says agreeably, lips parting the second you raise her fork. 
You got a present for each of the girls, though it isn’t their day, because you didn’t want them to feel left out, but honestly they don’t seem like they’ll need any extra spoiling. Bethie’s laughing sitting on the counter as Steve lets egg drip on her knee, squeamish giggling that in turn makes Avery laugh and attempt to join them. Steve grabs her under the arms and puts her right next to Beth. 
“Two assistants!” he says. “I’m spoiled. Which one of you wants to find the maple syrup? It’s somewhere in all that mess.” 
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Aemond x Baratheon daughter!reader. They are planning teh wedding and reader hears that there will be a bedding ceremony on the night of their marriage. She talks to the queen about it but she can’t do shit. She gets anxious and Aemond notices it so he ask why and she tells him that she’s uncomfortable about the bedding ceremony so Aemond personally asks Viserys to not have one
Warnings: arranged marriage, mention of bedding ceremony
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When the prince Aemond set foot in Storm's End and offered to take one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters in a marriage pact in exchange for swords and banners alongside the Greens, you didn’t know a bedding ceremony would be part of the pact. You had been flattered when the prince chose you over your sisters. The idea of being ‘sold’ to another Lord in marriage always made you uneasy, but the prince was tall, handsome, and kind to you. 
Moons later, as you were discussing the preparations of your and Aemond’s wedding, you found yourself wishing he had taken one of your four sisters.  
‘’A bedding ceremony?!’’ you repeated, feeling your stomach churn at the thought of having intercourse with spectators watching. 
You tried to not think too much about it, telling yourself that if you closed your eyes during it, it would pass fast. But come the week of the wedding, it was all you could think about. 
Shortly after your arrival in King’s Landing, you requested to speak to the Queen. Mayhaps she could do something about it?
‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I do not wish to do…that, your Grace.’’
If you had voiced your complaint to your father, you doubted he would have cared. A bedding ceremony was not embarrassing for the man. Quite the contrary, he was praised during the act. But the Queen was a woman. You hoped she would understand you, or at least have some compassion. 
The Queen sighed as she sat on the camel-back couch before you, knowing the mortifying experience that is the bedding ceremony. Especially for a woman. ‘’Unfortunately, it is a Westerosi wedding tradition. I’m afraid I cannot do anything about it, sweetie.’’ 
‘’A perverted tradition...’’ you whispered, not thinking she would hear you.
‘’I agree,’’ she said softly, her eyes filled with empathy. ‘’Unfortunately, we must submit to men's perversion.’’ Her words hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth that neither of you could escape.
A public defloration was something that — some — people enjoyed. Including your father. Lord Borros needed proof that the marriage had been consummated before sending his men to the Greens. He didn’t want to give them his men and get tricked in return. 
The evidence of the growing affection between you and Aemond wasn’t sufficient.  
Speaking of Aemond, he came knocking on your door after his afternoon duties. 
‘’Come in.’’ 
Usually, seeing him put a smile on your face, but today, you didn’t bother to open the door. You stayed sitting by the large window giving on the gardens, your eyes casted on your lap as you fidgeted with a thread from your dress. 
Stepping inside, Aemond frowned, seeing you sitting by yourself. ‘’I apologize for not coming to greet you sooner. I was held back,’’ he explained briefly, not wanting to bore you with the details of his duties.
‘’All is good, my Prince,’’ you said flatly.  
Aemond walked over to you, suspecting by your tone that something was upsetting you. He sat beside you and gently, he covered your hands with his, stopping your anxious play with the thread. ‘’What is it that is upsetting you, my love? Is it the wedding?’’ he asked, noticing the tension that seemed to wrap around you like a suffocating cloak. 
You shook your head. The wedding itself was a moment you were looking forward to — truly. It was the hours that followed that made your anxiety spike to unbearable levels. 
All these pairs of eyes on your naked body, observing — and judging. It made you sick. 
‘’It’s about the bedding ceremony. I…I’m already scared of the bedding itself,’’ you confess, your voice small and insecure. ‘’I do not want to make my first time a spectacle.’’ 
Aemond nodded, understanding. ‘’I’m not comfortable about this either. But it is part of my duty as husband.’’ 
‘’I spoke to your mother about it. Her Grace said there is no possibility of getting out of it…’’ A single tear slipped down your face, the sight pinching at Aemond’s heart. 
‘’Have you spoken to your father? Mayhaps he—’’ 
‘’My father requests it.’’ 
Aemond brought your hands to his lips, kissing them. ‘’I’ll speak to mine. Not to compare, but he holds more power than yours.’’
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aemnd · 4 months
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ʚ gif credit. ɞ
𝒶.targaryen. ┆ it's a craving, not a crush.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ jus' a lil' smutty n fluffy aemond drabble. !!! 🧸♡ྀི
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jus' imagining prince regent!aemond coming into your shared martial chambers, all irritated, furious, and aggressive-- startling your sensitive heart slightly, so unlike the stoic yet kind, brooding yet a complete gentleman whenever he was in your company—his sweet, darling little wife—quiet yet cannot help himself by always whispering sweet nothings into your ear, enjoying the way you're always so shy and get so easily flustered around him still, even after many moons of marriage already.
still, the aemond in your martial chambers right now seemed different, not like his usual self-- or rather, not like when he was with you; a gentleman, but always ravenous for you, well-mannered for a targaryen prince of the royal blood, yet dangerous and cruel to anyone else who wasn't you, his mother or his sweet, beloved older sister, helaena.
overall, the aemond standing before you now, it was a totally different side to him, standing there with his large fists curled tightly, white knuckled and glaring into the void with that one-eye of his-- and it hits you right there and then, you have never seen aemond upset, much less so furious, nor had aemond allowed himself for you to come to know or see him when he's like this, not wanting to frighten you away, especially during your courtship days.
aemond always knew you’d be his lady wife someday, it just took some… persuasive words from the young prince, which was said in his usual soft, velvety drawl, nearly sounding bored as he spoke to your oafish father while you were off dancing with your sisters a few steps in front of aemond, having him order you to stay close by to him that entire evening, and of course, you obeyed so prettily, like the precious princess he knew you were born to be.
yet, the threat in his words were clear and final that night at aegon and helaena’s wedding celebration—your daughter is mine, she always has been mine, wed her to me and mayhaps i won't burn the entirety of your house down to ashes by dawn, hm?
"my love? are you quite alright?" you question sweetly, so innocent and with the purest, gentlest of intentions, and that is why not even a full two minutes later, you find yourself with your knees pressed up against your heaving breasts, stripped completely nude, with your beloved husband on top of you, pounding into your sopping, quivering little cunt, fucking you over and over and over again.
"fuck," aemond grits out, his narrow hips snapping into the backs of your smooth, plush thighs, that were lathered with a sweet vanilla oil that had your husband go nearly feral every time you pass by him, or when you're hanging off of his arm during court in the afternoons and banquets like the beautiful, sweet little doll that you're.
"tightest fuckin' cunt-- by the gods, woman..! you will be the end of me," he says through his panting, chasing his high and yours, needing his release that he's been craving all day, instead of having his mother yapping in his ear about politics and the like, but all he could focus on was you-- and stuffing his face in between the softness of your gorgeous thighs, to taste the sweet nectar that lies between, just begging to be kissed and licked and fucked full of his cock until your tiny cunt is gaping and your womb is full with his seed.
"doing s'good for me, sweetling," aemond coos into your ear hotly, panting harshly and dripping with sweat, his skin fiery to the touch-- and oh, how you loved getting burned by him.
blood of the dragon, indeed.
you whimper meekly, looking up at your husband all weepy and cross-eyed, pleasure consuming you whole, overwhelming emotions clouding your already hazy mind, making you babble mindlessly, deliriously moaning like a silk street whore.
"soon... soon, you'll give me an heir," aemond husks breathlessly, making your cunt clench erratically, which earned you a crazed chuckle from aemond, watching as he threw his head back in pure bliss, high off of your willingness to be his perfect little wife, all obedient and ready to receive her husband's seed.
"yes, i know, my love... i know, you just want to be a sweet, obedient little wife for your husband, don't you?" he taunts, a mocking yet amused smile curling upon his curved lips, which he then bends down again, focusing most of his attention all over your bare bosom, your breasts heaving and little nipples hardened from your arousal-- but aemond doesn't mind, immediately suckling on one of your puffy nipples, making it nice and wet and swollen, creating claiming marks all over your breasts as his hips continue to brutally snap into you, rutting and bucking into your wildly, making you wail girlishly and squirm beneath your husband.
"a-aemond...! please, p-please, i am about to−" aemond clicks his tongue, stopping your speech and tutting with disapproval shining in his amethyst eye, the sparkling sapphire gem that was stuffed into his left eye socket shining maliciously, a warning to tread carefully for what you're about to say.
"does my wife wish to come on her husband's cock?" aemond purrs, now rolling his hips every time he enters you, making tears fall from your pretty, doe-like and lustful eyes, all misty and dreamy with desire and love for your sweet, beloved aemond.
"please, aemond-- i want to come on your cock, please," you beg with a small whine, desperate and needy to reach your own release already, especially with aemond having edged you by eating your sweet little cunny out for nearly an hour before finally fucking you with his cock, after you had begged and pleaded him to.
continuing to listen to your sweet, desperate pleading, aemond smirks, before swallowing your loud, feminine moans into his mouth, devouring you and tasting you, thrusting his hips into you faster, faster, faster-- signaling for you to reach your peak as he fucks you even harder and even more mean than before, giving your overstimulated clit a few harsh slaps with one of his big hands, and perhaps your husband was a bit too cruel, or just obsessed with making you his, but you're too delirious to notice as he finally leans down and quietly gives you his permission for you to come for him.
"come for your husband, now," he whispers deeply, possessively, making you cry out and cling to him like a newborn babe as you finally get to lose yourself in your ecstasy.
aemond targaryen was many things, most of them cruel… a kinslayer, some common folks say a madman, many say a cold-blooded killer, a man with a blackened heart and a hunger for blood and violence-- however, aemond one-eye was never one to deny his wife anything, no matter the consequences.
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tired-teacher-blog · 4 months
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You coax your six year old daughter into telling her father about the bigger-than-herself crush she's been harboring for the cute little boy who sits next to her in class, just so you could see the mortified look on your husband's face as he struggled to control his temper while listening to his girl's sweet voice bashfully recounting the story of how they exchanged their first love notes today..
And he's now thinking of a proper plan to intimidate the poor boy and keep him away from his little angel, and probably even make him switch schools.
_ "Come on Shouta, something like that is bound to happen sooner or later." your giggles fill the air as you strive to smooth out the frown plastered across his face with gentle pecks and touches.
_ "Yeah! When she's like thirty or something, not now!" his grip on the thick book tightens as his frustration grows, and you ignore him for a second to try steadying your legs on each side of his waist, "I don't understand why you're not more upset about this, she's your daughter too." and he carries on complaining when you fail to respond.
You sigh contentedly after settling on his lap, snatching the book away from his grasp and reaching out to set it on your nightstand, " well I think it's cute that she's exploring some new emotions, don't you remember when we first met? We weren't much older than her."
His scowl deepens at your words and his stare shifts to the side in contemplation, he does not seem to care for the reminder as it only worries him further.
You bite down on your lip in a futile attempt to swallow your giggles, pushing his soft locks back to carefully remove his glasses and trail soft kisses on the scars adding to his beauty.
_ "That's not comforting you know?" he groans in protest against your statement and holds you closer to himself, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and allowing you to kiss him as you please, "I don't want her developing romantic feelings for anyone, not now not ever, she just needs to be my little girl."
Your heart swells with adoration for your man, the same person who used to dislike the idea of having kids of his own, saying that all he ever wanted was to settle down with you and you alone, to have a little peace of mind after his early retirement, away from the troubles bound to come with children.
However, all of it has changed the moment you were greeted with a lovely surprise that you both shared its creation.. your little angel and source of happiness.
_ "She'll always be our little girl." you murmur against his cheek and kiss him there again, "but if you want, we can always have another." you sit back and watch the expression on his face slowly switching to an amused one as he presses you down on his bulge.
_ "Yeah, and maybe this time we'll have a boy."
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xoxochb · 1 month
Note
could you write abt a daughter of hecate reader shipped with luke castellan? except that it’s before he turned evil, and it’s very very cutesy - sneaking out at 3am to meet, holding hands under the table, laughing as they spar etc etc. i don’t have anything particular in mind, but i would love to see this (also you asked for reqs sooo 🥰
-🔮
⋆·˚ ༘ * sweet peace
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warnings: established relationship, pre tlt so reader stays in hermes cabin pairing: luke castellan x daughter of hecate a/n: I needed to get my mind of all this crazy shit so I decided to finish this up
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i. sneaking out
you were woken from your peaceful slumber when a hand shakes your shoulder and your name repeatedly being whispered. you groan into your pillow but the culprit doesn’t stop, instead flipping you over on your back. your eyes flutter open to admittedly- your favorite sight. now not so much ‘favorite’
“what do you want, luke?”
he cracks a grin when your eyes open. “I want to go out”
your brows furrow. “go out? It’s the middle of the night!”
“exactly!”
you pout and sit up, facing luke. “nights are for sleeping. I’m not sure if you knew that”
luke’s grin turns into a smirk. you don’t know if you want to kiss him or hit him. “you’ve told me a few times”
an angry glare appears on your face. luke laughs
“I am not ‘going out’ in the middle of the night just because you want to”
“I’ll get you a few extra strawberries at breakfast”
you sigh and throw your hands up dramatically. “okay, fine. let me get a sweatshirt”
luke holds a hand out for you to take, which you do gratefully. you lean into luke, lips almost touching but you whisper an ‘I will remember that offer’ before walking away to search for one of your luke’s sweatshirts
ੈ✩‧₊˚
you arrive minutes later at your destination: a secluded area near the lake. you recognize this location as the place where you and luke first met. you had just gotten claimed by your mother, upset because she didn’t have a cabin for her demigod offsprings. luke found you skipping rocks and sat beside you as you informed him as to why you were in the disappointed mood
he listening attentively as you ranted about the situation and he spoke comforting words to help you overcome your struggles. you were thankful to have him by your side as you were still new to camp. and you later had him confess he was following you like a creep
luke guides you back against a tree, kissing you once almost eagerly before you place a hand to his chest and pull away
“if you dragged me out here just to make out I’m going to kill you and bury your body under this very ground we stand on”
“you’d miss me”
you shrug. “I’d visit you”
“then when I don’t respond?”
you frown. “then maybe I’d miss you”
luke smiles and kisses you again. once, and then twice before he pulls back. a soft smile appears on your face at luke’s look of tenderness. you cup his face and run your thumb over his scar before leaving gentle kisses along it. you feel his face heat up at the action. you pull back and luke takes this moment to bury his face in your neck, arms around your waist, yours around his shoulders
this was definitely better than sleeping
ii. breakfast
although your lack of sleep the previous night was disappointing you couldn’t help the bright smile on your face. a plate full of strawberries in front of you, an absolute dream in your eyes. luke watched lovingly as you ate each red berry, not understanding how it was humanly possible for you to eat sixteen of them in under five minutes
“I’m starting to think you like those strawberries more than me” luke jokes
“maybe. maybe not” you shrug
“should I be worried?”
you purse your lips before biting another berry. “strawberries are inanimate, therefore they can’t kiss me back”
“what’re you saying?”
“I’m saying I would chose you over strawberries. although they do come close to first”
“are you saying you love me, moonbeam?”
you sigh. “I’m saying I like kissing you”
luke frowns. “you hurt my heart”
“you should visit the infirmary then, they’ll fix you right up”
“I love you too”
luke takes your hand underneath the table intertwining them and giving it a gentle squeeze, causing a grin to form on your lips. you run your thumb over his knuckles as a reciprocation
he was definitely better than strawberries
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copper-16 · 7 months
Text
Why Would She Say That?
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Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter calling the Norwegian by her name for the first time
(a/n: hi guys! So a few people have been asking for a kid fic with Mapi and Ingrid, and to be honest I came up with a ton of ideas so I decided to just post little chapters as I write them instead of compiling them all into one big fic! I used the same character from an old kid fic I wrote about these two back a few months ago. I hope everyone enjoys! :)
Elena was just a little under a year old when it happened. She hadn’t properly started talking yet, had only babbled in the way that all babies did. It was one of Mapi’s favorite activities, to sit there with her and pretend that she understood what her daughter was saying. They would have whole conversations, Elena perched on her lap and just talking away at the Spaniard, who appeared to be hanging off her every word despite not understanding an ounce of what she was saying.
Ingrid, personally, found it incredibly adorable if not a little frustrating at times. She loved Elena very much, but when the little girl was upset sometimes there wasn’t much that could be conveyed through the pointing of her chubby fingers.
Which was why the Norwegian was elated when Elena began speaking, real, whole words.
She had tried not to be too discouraged by the fact that her daughter’s first word was “Mami,” the name they had very clearly picked out for Mapi to be called. Mapi was “Mami” and Ingrid was “Mama” they had decided, figuring that would be easy enough for a baby to understand while still being able to delineate between the two of them.
“Princesa, can you grab me Elena’s bag?” Mapi called out from her spot near the apartment entrance, with their daughter settled comfortably on her hip. The sandy blonde little girl eagerly pulled at her mothers hair, and Mapi winced slightly before gently pulling her chubby hand away, shaking her head at the baby despite the fact that she was smiling down at her.
But Elena just smiled back at her with delight, clapping her hands together as the brunette bounced her lightly, waiting for her wife to bring the bag they needed before leaving the house.
“Ma-ma-ma, pra-pra-pra, buh-buh-buh,” Elena puffed out softly, and Mapi nodded her head as she smoothed down the mess of sandy blonde curls atop her head.
Ingrid came around the corner with the bag in just a few seconds, smiling widely at her two girls, depositing a kiss on each of their cheeks as she passed the bag to Mapi.
“Elena, can you say bye-bye to Mama?” Mapi prompted, doubting that the baby would actually do it but still trying to get her to say the M-word, either way. But Elena just smiled up at the Norwegian without saying a peep, instead waving her hand goodbye. Ingrid allowed herself to lean into the laughter that tumbled from her mouth, tickling her daughter's belly slightly before she kissed Mapi softly in parting.
“Bye princesa,” Mapi mumbled against the Norwegian’s lips before she slipped out the door with their baby.
When the center back arrived back home just a few hours later, Ingrid was waiting at the door with anticipation.
“Elena!” The dark haired woman cooed in excitement, having missed the baby despite the small amount of time that had elapsed since they had last seen each other. And to her credit, her daughter was equally excited to see her, reaching for the Norwegian easily and allowing for her Mami to facilitate a quick trade off.
Ingrid covered the little girl's face in kisses before she turned her attention to her wife, who was gazing fondly at the two as they greeted one another.
“How was the doctor?” The taller woman asked, referencing the check up that Mapi had taken Elena to.
“Everything looks good. She’s in the 52th percentile for weight and the 45th for height, and everything looks healthy according to her doctor,” Mapi parroted, and Ingrid couldn’t help but nod in relief. When she had been pregnant with Elena, nobody had really warned her about the pre and post-partum anxiety she would feel. And while it had gotten better as Elena had gotten older, occasionally it still held her tightly for the most random of things, like a routine doctor's visit.
But Elena was fine, and Mapi was smiling at her brightly, and everything was okay.
After the three of them had dinner, they migrated to the living room to settle in for the night. Mapi was curled on the couch as Ingrid sat on the floor with Elena, playing with her blocks while she babbled away.
“Yes, this one is yellow,” Ingrid explained as the little girl held up a yellow block, watching as Elena dissolved into giggles and reached for another one, holding it up to her mother expectantly.
“That is purple,” Ingrid supplied easily, and instead of laughter Elena looked down at the purple block with confusion, her little brows knitted together in clear skepticism.
“Do you not like purple?” Ingrid asked, looking up at Mapi with an equally confused expression. Elena looked up at her Mama just as Mapi replied, also a little lost on what was going on.
“Mami!” Elena cried out gently as she looked back at Mapi, before looking at Ingrid again, the block still in hand.
“Maybe she just does not like that purple block, princesa,” Mapi tried, unsure of what was going on inside her daughter's little mind.
But just as Mapi finished her sentence, Elena dropped the purple block and reached for Ingrid insistently. The Norwegian easily reached for her daughter, pulling Elena into her with a gentle hug. Her daughter's little body melted into her completely, letting out a relieved little sigh.
When the dark haired woman pulled her daughter back, Elena smiled at her brightly.
“Prin-prin-prin,” Elena pushed out very insistently, as though she was trying to tell her mother something, and it was Ingrid’s turn to furrow her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly.
“Hm?” She asked the baby softly, not really expecting an answer but trying to mirror what her wife did with the little girl when they spoke.
“Princess!” Elena finally giggled out triumphantly, pointing at Ingrid with one of her chubby little baby fingers.
Mapi pitched forward with surprise from her spot on the couch as Ingrid nearly dropped her daughter from complete surprise, and for a moment both of them were completely still and silent as they looked from each other to their baby, back and forth.
“What did she just say?” Ingrid squeaked out, her voice an octave higher than it usually was. Mapi had slapped her hand over her mouth, and she was trying desperately to keep from laughing.
“María, what did she just say?” Ingrid repeated, staring at Elena with wide eyes. Her daughter was staring back at her with big eyes, confused as to why her mother was acting so strangely.
“She said princesa, I believe,” Mapi said from her spot on the couch, a smirk dancing across her lips. Ingrid looked over at her with huge eyes, more than a little shocked.
“Why would she say that! That’s not my name!” Ingrid exclaimed, but Mapi just raised a brow at her, unimpressed.
“Is it? It’s not like I haven’t been calling you that for years, princesa,” the Spaniard points out, emphasizing her last word heavily.
“Princesa!” Elena repeats happily, reaching forward to place her hand on Ingrid’s cheek as if to prove her point.
Ingrid looked from her wife back to their baby, who was staring at her with big eyes, as if she was the only thing in the whole world that mattered. She had never expected to have loved such a small human so much, and yet here she was. Completely and utterly head over heels in love with someone so tiny.
“Yes, that’s right, that’s me,” Ingrid whispers, her voice choked up as she struggles to get words out over her impending tears. The Norwegian pulls their daughter back into her, and Elena settles into her chest easily, her whole body pressed flush against Ingrid.
“You know who I am,” Ingrid murmurs into the little girl's sandy blonde hair, her words just barely audible. Tears are slipping down her cheek of their own volition, falling onto the carpet as Elena snuggles into her, and her wife finally moves from her position on the couch to join them on the floor.
She wraps her arms around Ingrid, allowing the Norwegian to press her face into her neck as she still cradles Elena close to her, the brunette bringing her hands up to gently rub at Ingrid’s back soothingly.
“She always knew who you were, you know that, right?” Mapi murmurs softly, trying to reassure the Norwegian that just because her daughter hadn’t said her name, didn’t mean that she loved the dark haired woman any less. Ingrid nodded into her neck, gathering herself for a moment before she leaned back, rocking Elena back and forth as she sniffled lightly.
She knew, but it was still something else entirely to hear her daughter say something that signified her, out loud.
Mapi reached forward to wipe the remaining tears from her cheeks, given that her wifes hands were relatively full at the moment. When Ingrid pulls Elena back slightly, the little girl seems concerned, looking up at the Norwegian with worry in her eyes. Ingrid can probably guess that she’s clocking the redness and blotchiness of her face from her crying.
“Mama?” Elena asks gently, and Ingrid feels her jaw fall open again as her face lights up, and she looks from their daughter to Mapi, who is looking back at her with excitement.
“That’s right, Mama! Mama is alright, mi sol,” Mapi reassures the little girl, but her words are twinged with excitement for her wife, and Elena giggles at them both before she reaches for the Spaniard, allowing Ingrid to safely transfer her from one parent to the other.
Mapi smothers the small girl with kisses before she looks back up at Ingrid, only to find her with more tears in her eyes.
“Are you crying again?” Mapi asks with a laugh as the Norwegian fixes her with a glare, but the intensity of it is lost as a tear rolls down her face.
“Ti stille,” Ingrid snaps, telling her wife to shut up though there is little bite to it, and the Spaniard simply chuckles in response as she bounces their daughter a few times before depositing her back to the Norwegian.
“Gosh - what a day! Ingrid…I think we might have the smartest baby ever,” Mapi decides with complete and utter seriousness, and Ingrid rolls her eyes slightly at the hyperbole, but she finds herself agreeing rather easily either way.
“I think you might be onto something there,” Ingrid decides as she cuddles her daughter close, the little girl giggling at all of the excitement as she tries to pull on some of Ingrid’s long dark hair.
“Ow, Elena!”
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anonymousbardd · 7 months
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Character Headcanons
꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: How You Met
↳ Various x FemReader
- The following characters are: Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, and Gongseob Ji.
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ʚɞ ┊: Gun Park
↳ Gun isn't typically a lady's man, he prefers to get stronger and earn more money than ever, he'd do anything just for money, that's why he agreed to join forces in the first place.
Though when chairman Choi suggested marrying the young daughter of the alliance company, he wasn't exactly too thrilled.
When he first met (F/n), they didn't exactly get along, both had different views of the world and both had different priorities.
(F/n)'s priority was to give and to help, while Gun's were to kill just to get.
After some time, both alliances tried to set multiple dates for the two, though they weren't of consent, (F/n) and Gun were civil and handled it maturely.
Eventually, they grew quite fond of eachother, though they don't admit it.
(F/n) would constantly look out for Gun, she would treat his wounds and scold him for smoking and what not, Gun on the other hand brushed her off.
After all, their engagement were just of convenience, there was no point in trying to get attached.
Although, the changes in Gun was slightly noticeable, when confronted about it, he denies all accusations and gets frustrated.
So what if he doesn't smoke as often as he used to? Everybody knows that smoking is a bad habit.
So what if he starts to take care of himself? He needs to do so in order to fight better.
So what if he bought himself a small keychain that reminded him of his Fiancé? It was just a reminder of the contract he has to respect.
And so what if he found himself thinking about the young woman every night before he goes to bed? Though their soon to be marriage is only of convenience, it doesn't mean that he should treat her less.
After all, (F/n) is his wife to be.
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ʚɞ ┊: Goo Kim
↳ Much like Gun, he prefers money over women, he also has a bit of a habit of spending a shit tone when he's upset, he doesn't care, he's got more money than he could count.
In a spectacular day, he found himself roaming around in an anime convention, he only had one goal, and that is to get as much Katanas he could.
He looked around and enjoyed himself, taking pictures with a few cosplayers, getting a bit of keychains and what not.
The moment he laid eyes on a man cosplaying one of his favourite characters, he immediately went by to say hi, the man was handsome looking, pale skin, sharp eyes and tall.
He was surprised to learn that it was actually a woman.
Goo couldn't believe his eyes that a woman is able to pull such a masculine cosplay, when the cosplayer asked him about the huge Katana haul, he excitedly explained that it was one of his favourite weapons.
The two talked for a bit and took a picture together, the cosplayer left Goo a small custom keychain and headed off.
A few days later, Goo found himself saving a young woman who was dresses up as a video game character from a group of perverts.
He was surprised when the cosplayer recognised him, and he was even more surprised when he found out that it was the same cosplayer he met a few days ago.
The cosplayer wanted to thank Goo so she ended up showing him her collections of swords, katanas and other weapons, Goo was over the moon and kept on drooling over the displays.
The cosplayer was kind enough to give Goo two weapons.
Goo never forget about it and has those two weapons displayed in his home, he also kept in contact with the cosplayer and goes out for coffee whenever he's free.
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ʚɞ ┊: Samuel Seo
↳ It was a long night, Samuel's original plan was to drink the night away, he wasn't at all expecting to meet a talented woman.
He met (F/n) at a bar, she was singing a song, she was a stage performer.
After her performance, she tumbled upon Samuel, they noticed each other's presence but didn't speak.
What lead to them was the bartender, both of them had ordered the same drink and when the bartender placed down the fixated alcohol, Samuel and (F/n) reached out to grab it.
(F/n) was first to apologize, she claimed that she didn't know it was his, Samuel was already a bit tipsy by that point and thought about having a bit of fun.
The two of them ended up sharing the drink, they ordered a couple more as they continued to speak to each other.
It was the typical "fuck I fell in love in a one night stand".
Now Samuel bothers (F/n) in any chance he could.
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ʚɞ ┊: Jake Kim
↳ Sinu tried to set up his dear Jake and his dear sister in law, Jake was of course not ideally please with the idea.
Although, he did end up agreeing due to Sinu's persistent PESTERING.
They ended up talking in a café, it went smoothly, it was a slow burn trope for the two, it took them a year and a half to actually admit they had feelings for eachother. — (Speaking from soon to be experience hehe).
Sinu was proud of himself being the source of the newly blossomed relationship.
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ʚɞ ┊: Gongseob Ji
↳ (F/n) was unfortunate enough to found herself in a club with Gongseob Ji, she was only there because of her friends, Gongseob was there to pickup girls.
And sadly, (F/n) was the one he took interest in the most.
Once he found out that the two of them went to the same highschool, he began to attend school just to see her everyday.
Gongseob didn't really want anything else other than a sweet relief, but as he continued to appear any place (F/n) was, his friends started to tease him.
That's when he slowly questioned his feelings, and that's when he found out he actually liked her.
He wasn't discreet about it, he told her as soon as he found out.
It took a while but he was able to take her out to dinner after saving her from a group of delinquents.
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༝༚༝༚𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚍
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heisenberg-simp257 · 1 year
Note
I saw the Requests open so, yeahhhhh
The 4 lords (separate) with a crush!reader who's, yes have a crush on
Who's really, really, really, oblivious, like a lot, that they can't even take one small Hint,
And the 4 lords (separate) Finally confessed, The confession took 4 hours to understand the reader.
Thank you for reading!
I think I understand! Hope you enjoy! 💖 Sorry if it's wrong anywhere!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Four Lords with an Oblivious Crush!Reader
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Alcina Dimitrescu
-When it comes to having a crush on someone, Alcina is usually very patient. She's not one to get giddy or overly excited, but she does feel a sense of pleasantness when around her crush. That being said, it's very hard for said person to realize her fondness because she is very subtle about it.
-Especially when that someone is as oblivious as you are.
-You don't recognize anything as flirtatious, which upsets her because Alcina always believes that her subtle hints were brilliantly thought out, and then you don't even see it. She tends to sulk a bit afterwards, and you have to pry her on why. Which sucks because Alcina gives up on telling you the exact reason.
-Her daughters try to help in any way they can because their mother has ranted about your oblivious behavior to them, but even those three can't get through to you. They won't tell you about Alcina's feelings out of respect, but they sure as hell give hints.
-One day she can't take it anymore and prepares some wine to tell you about how she feels. Knowing Alcina, it was very dramatic and a lot of words were used. But still, to anyone else, it would have been very straightforward. Except for you, who kept thinking she was talking about friendship.
-It only took four grueling hours for you to get what she was talking about.
-You confessed that you never realized what she was trying to get across and apologized profusely for it. She was a bit strained during this whole exchange but was relieved that it was over and you returned her feelings for you. Now you'll recognize all her gestures were coming from love.
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Donna Beneviento (and Angie)
-Donna is extremely shy when it comes to having a crush on someone and it all stems back to her insecurities. She never feels like she's good enough for someone to love, but Donna is trying to push herself to express her feelings to that person she likes. But she is very very subtle about it, which doesn't help anyone.
-Especially you, who can never recognize a hint.
-And it's not always your fault because Donna isn't even the best at giving hints. Everything she does would be considered friendly, even by a person who isn't as oblivious as you. She would make you things, fix things for you, and make you all this tea. You interpret it a lot differently than how she's trying to display it as. Every time after, she would go to her room and just stare out the window.
-Angie is way more upfront about the whole situation, but the funny part is that she never brings up Donna's feelings. The doll just gets angry at you for "not getting it", which you don't understand in the slightest. Donna has to come and apologize with a red and flustered face.
-It takes Donna literal months before she realizes that this isn't going to work and she needs to just make the first move, which honestly scares her even more. She just wants to do it fast like ripping off a band-aid. It would be just Donna's luck that she would have to explain herself over and over again because you didn't understand what she was trying to say (due to her mumbling and your obliviousness).
-Four hours later and she's an emotional puddle on the floor.
-You were embarrassed for her and yourself as well for not noticing her advances (which weren't too much to be honest). Now you both were being kind of awkward as you tried to explain your own feelings for her. Each time she does something for you now, you pay extra close attention to it because you want her to know you understand now.
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Salvatore Moreau
-Moreau is a big bundle of love when it comes to having a crush on somebody. Not only that, but he gets a crush quite easily. All it takes is a smile or a laugh before his attention is just on you. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he's not one to give up when it comes to giving signs. Moreau is oddly patient which is good because it's going to take him a while to get the message across.
-You were a very oblivious person when it came to things like this.
-However, sometimes Moreau doesn't even realize that you didn't understand what his little gestures meant. He's so excited to give you more affection that he didn't know it went over your head. In your eyes, he was just being really nice to you since adjusting to life in this area had been hard. You didn't even realize that his affections go much farther than that.
-Eventually though, Moreau recognizes that his gestures aren't doing anything. He isn't stupid no matter what Heisenberg says. He starts to realize that he's going to have to take another approach. Unlike the other lords, he doesn't get nervous or embarrassed when it comes to things like this.
-It was easy for him to sit with you and explain his growing feelings outright. Moreau was direct and concise, probably adding more words than needed, but he was just that kind of guy. He thought was easily getting the point across and that it was going to end well. Moreau didn't expect you to be as dense as you are, no offense.
-It took him a whopping four hours for you to realize his crush.
-At this point, he was beyond exhausted yet relieved that you finally knew. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to explain all this just for you to understand how he feels. With that in mind, you were a little flustered as well. But you were grateful. Now, things can have a more special meaning.
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Karl Heisenberg
-If Moreau is a ball of love, then Heisenberg is a vacant field of isolation. He's never had a "crush" on anyone or he might just crush himself. To him, love is a weakness that needs to be eradicated. And perhaps that view of thinking stems from the fact that he didn't know or understand any form of real love. But when he gets a crush on you, he's in for a ride.
-Because you are the densest and most oblivious person he knows, and it kills him.
-Heisenberg didn't know how to give hints about how he feels towards you because he's never experienced this before. To be honest, your obliviousness was most likely also due to his inexperience. Still, it gets him frustrated that his little acts of kindness go unnoticed because that's just how Heisenberg is when it comes to things not going his way.
-The more this goes on, the more Heisenberg fears that he will have to speak up about it otherwise it was going to drive him nuts. He can't handle his emotions very well, so sometimes his aggression is directed from his inability to handle how he feels about you. He'll also self-isolate which also gives you the wrong impression. But it's the sit down with him that's kind of scary for you.
-Because of the obliviousness, he has to sit with you face to face in order to get the message across. Not only that, but you have no clue what he's about to discuss with you because you never recognized the signs he was giving. Frankly, it was because he also didn't hand out many signs. Heisenberg was stubborn, stuttering, and overall nervous as he told you how he felt. Which also didn't work in his favor.
-This led to four hours of him having to repeat and explain himself.
-He thought his face was going to melt from how hot it was. Congratulations, you have finally broken Lord Heisenberg's walls and turned him into a puddle of mush. He sincerely hopes you return the feelings for him otherwise he will just combust and probably smush himself under a piece of scrap metal. You were probably just as flushed as he was about the realization, promising to be better about it from now on. Give him a hug and he will explode.
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hellaversity · 6 months
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See, this is what happens when people don't count important details in storytelling just because it's not being said outright, but rather shown through character expressions without dialogue. There were hints from the beginning that Stella was always meant to be a bad person and an obstacle to Stolas' feelings for Blitzø.
Don't believe me? Watch Loo Loo Land again with more open ears and eyes. Stella is shown throwing stuff at Stolas, including his sentient plants which he values highly and she was likely aware of that. That imp butler she threw at him means she not only abuses Stolas, but her own servants too, especially those of a particular lower class race.
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Octavia's expressions here imply that this isn't an isolated incident either. That's the look of a girl who's heard this same type of arguing from her parents everyday. With how annoyed she looks, Stolas and Stella might as well have been fighting like this for years. It'd be more surprising if they didn't.
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Octavia's lack of a reaction to her mom throwing a plant that almost hit her implies that this is far from the first time Stella has thrown things around the house. That is a concerning thing to get used to. Stella is also heard yelling about Stolas sleeping with an IMP, in THEIR bed. Notice the emphasis on "imp" and "our" bed. Even Stolas' only response to that is "I didn't have time to go to a motel!" It's pretty clear here that Stella is more concerned about about Stolas cheating on her with an imp specifically and ruining her reputation than the fact that he cheated at all.
If she was truly upset about the cheating itself, she would've said something more along the lines of "I can't believe you slept with someone else!" or something like that. Throwing their imp butler and him saying "You wanna fuck this one too?" and calling Stolas "pathetic, imp-sucking face" is all you need to know that Stella is making it more about WHO Stolas cheated on her with than the fact that he cheated. Keep in mind that this argument was going on right in front of Via, who didn't even say anything or try to stop it.
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Octavia here says "You two done screaming for the day?" with little emotion, and Stolas' reply basically amounts to "Yup" without hesitation. More and more proof that his marriage with Stella was NEVER happy and never something that he wanted.
Later in the episode, Via does say that her parents used to love each other, even though we as the audience know it's not true. Stolas even tries to explain to her that he and Stella were never in love to begin with, but he didn't have the words. Because how exactly can you explain to your daughter that you and your wife were in an arranged marriage since you guys were kids for the sole purpose of producing a child, without offending her and making her think she was only born for one purpose? Or better yet, what reason is there to assume that she'd actually believe you?
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People have looked at this picture on the wall and somehow came to the conclusion that Stolas and Stella used to be in a happy, loving relationship based on this picture alone, just because Stella is smiling in it. But if you look cloesly, you'll see that smile on Stella is barely there. She's very obviously faking it to keep up an image. She's forcing it so people won't get suspicious. This is the vision of Stella that Octavia remembers from her youth, which is exactly why she was naive enough to believe that her parents genuinely loved each other before Blitzø came along for a one night stand in hopes of getting the grimoire. Sure, she had seen them arguing and fighting with each other before that, but that's mainly because most if not all parents have gotten into nasty arguments at some point that their children were more likely than not to witness.
Stella is barely looking at Stolas there, clearly rolling her eyes and just wanting the picture to be overwith already. Stolas is genuinely happy there, but that's because his "little owlette" is there with him. He's not looking at Stella at all. Another picture in their house with just Stolas and Stella together has both of them frowning and looking at the camera, not each other. Octavia is the only thing to come out of Stolas' marriage that ever gave him any real happiness. She was the only reason he stayed at that house.
That scene where Stella ignores Octavia's cry for help when she's having a nightmare and tells Stolas to go check on her instead is more evidence that Stella had never been a nice person or a good mother. You could argue that she was just too tired to do anything about it, but look again. Stolas was just as tired as she was, yet he still went out of way to comfort his "little Starfire" when she was having a bad dream. Octavia may have called for both of her parents, but she said she had a bad dream about her father disappearing. Not her parents, just her father.
Also notice the drawings in Octavia's bedroom when she's a child. Look at how many of them are of her and Stolas together, but Stella is nowhere to be found in those drawings. That shows how close Via is to her father, especially when she was a little girl, but was never really close to her mother at all. Sure, those drawings are no longer in Via's room when she's a teen in the present, but remember that her and Stolas gradually got less close to each other as the years went by and their relationship got more flawed, to the point that Via questions if her dad even loves her anymore and literally listens to music about hating dads. But the fact remains that there were never any drawings of Stella in her daughter's room and there still isn't now is pretty telling that Stella was never a good mom, still isn't now and likely never will be.
Now look at The Harvest Moon Festival. If Loo Loo Land didn't convince you that Stella was a bitch, then this episode sure will. Stella's only scene in the episode is her screaming into a phone while she's talking to Striker about wanting Stolas dead. Right in front of him and Octavia. While Via is listening to music that's too loud for her to have even heard the screaming, Stolas heard it pretty clearly. But he had no reaction to his own wife screeching about hiring an assassin to kill him. Him being completely unphased by something like that is surely a sign that Stella had always hated his guts and he knew about it. He likely heard her shouting at the top of her lungs about wanting to murder him with her own bare hands. If he's not reacting to Stella talking to Striker on the phone about planning his death in front of him, he might as well have been hearing shit like that from her for years.
Not counting the pilot, those are the only two scenes with Stella in season 1. Both scenes depicted her in the same light. A loud, violent bitch in a loveless marriage. Therefore, her reveal in The Circus about always hating Stolas from the get go is not a retcon. Not that there was even much known about her character for there to be retconned in the first place, but her few scenes before that episode showed her doing and saying nothing BUT horrible things.
As for Stolitz, Blitzø is more than once implied to return Stolas' feelings for him. He just never said it out loud and is in denial about his own feelings. He's not even aware that Stolas' love for him is genuine because between their reuniting at the Not Divorce Party and their fumbled fake date at Ozzie's, Stolas has only ever talked to Blitzø with sexual innuendos. So Blitzø had no reason to assume that Stolas was legitimately in love with him and didn't just want him for sexy times, because Stolas hadn't really been helping his case. Blitzø ranted to Fizzarolli about Stolas "acting" like he cared about him outside of sex.
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Everytime Blitzø talks about Stolas treating him like his own personal fuck toy, he looks and sounds pretty upset about it. I doubt he'd care all that much about his relationship with Stolas being transactional fucking if he didn't like him back. Right after the fake date gone wrong at Ozzie's, Blitzø is looking at several pictures saved in his phone, one of them being a photo of him Stolas laying together in bed. Blitzø looks genuinely happy in that photo, he's even smiling. He DOES enjoy being around Stolas. When Loona comforts him after Bee's party, he can be heard whispering the names of all the people he cares about and is close to. Those people being Loona, Moxxie, Millie and.... Stolas.
In Seeing Stars, Blitzø blushes when seeing Stolas in his human form and you can see his pupils dialating for a few seconds before he changes for a few seconds. I don't know about you, but I don't blush at anyone i'm not in love with when they get a new look. Pupils dialating are also a commom indication that you're looking at something you love. Later in that episode, Blitzo nervously sweats when Stolas whispers into his ear with a seductive voice, smiles at Stolas specifically when he causes the whole audience to laugh, and holds his hand while they run out of the burning building. Blitzø did not need to hold Stolas' hand. He could've just said "Hey, let's get the fuck outta here," and Stolas wouldn't have hesitated. On top of that, they are still shown holding hands long after they escaped and only let go once they see their daughters.
Now, onto the most complicated scene involving the Stolitz relationship, during Blitzø's ball tripping hallucination where he sees Stolas on top of a staircase and is being pulled towards him with chains. Already not a good sign. But Blitzø was already climbing the staircase before the chains appeared. Even when he saw Stolas above him, he didn't run away. He briefly walked towards him before being dragged towards him. He's seen blushing once he reaches the top and Stolas caresses his face. Also notice how the art style in Blitzø's ball trip sequence was completely different from how the show normally looks, but the moment he saw Stolas the art style changed back to normal. Meaning that Blitzø feels the most like himself when he's around Stolas.
He just wants to be in a legit, healthy relationship with Stolas out of love, not the transactional fuck buddy situation he's in right now. He wishes that Stolas would stop calling him degrading nicknames like "impish little plaything" and is bothered by the power imbalance between the two of them.
"Show, don't tell" is an important writing tool that isn't respected these days. If a story isn't being anvilicious and spoonfeeding you information with heavy-handed exposition and infodumps left and right, then foreshadowing details get dismissed and ignored, with some people straight up saying they don't count because it's not being spelled out to them every 5 seconds. This is why some people still insist that Stella's villainy was retconned and that Blitzø has no interest in Stolas despite evidence to the contrary. They were paying more attention to their headcanons than what the show actually presented, and got mad when their headcanons were contradicted by canon.
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rrickgrrimes8 · 1 year
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Ho, can i just day i love your works! May i request an ellie x miller reader where maybe ellie and the reader get into an argument on the way to jackson and reader is giving ellie the silent treatment. Joel tried to help then resolve it but it doesnt work until they get ambushed by clickers and reader gets lost for a few days or sum. Then ellie and reader make up and kiss!!! Pretty pls
Never Again
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summary: what makes a better lovestory than jealousy, clickers and mourning?
Ellie Williams x miller!reader (aged up) — she/her reader. Joel Miller x daughter!reader
warnings: infected, angst, fluff, making out, fluff, arguments, Dina, minor injury, happy ending
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request guidelines (new)
requests are open
thanks for the request! hope this was what you wanted! ;)
word count: 1.3k
You didn’t know how you even got here.
A small fire dwindled in front of you. Your arms wrapped around your chest, sinking into the feeling your own comfort gave you.
How did this happen?
You were just with them, with Ellie and now this… Now you were on your own, again. You wished you could take it back and you were sure, wherever Ellie was, she would agree too.
How could you let this happen?
“You’re not listening to a word I say,” You hissed, trekking, and struggling up a long flight of stairs.
Joel rolled his eyes, a little further up then the two of you for once – the wish to escape this situation outweighing the ache in his knees.
Ellie scoffed, “I listen! I am listening! You’re not even telling me what I did wrong!”
“Christ, Ellie, that’s the problem,” You huffed, turning to face her, “You don’t understand why I’m upset with you.”
The girl’s eyes soften, frowning when she saw your tears, “Tell me then.”
You shook your head, biting your lip, “You flinched, Ellie.”
“What?” She almost laughed.
Joel looked back at this point, stopping to catch his breath but instead getting a front row view of your argument. “Back in Jackson… you and Dina were talking. I came up to you. I held your hand and you fucking flinch.”
“So?” She rolled her eyes, “What does that even matter?”
“It matters b-because of her,” You spat, “Its always her, Ellie.”
Ellie huffed a laugh, shooting a look at Joel, who was not impressed, “Can you believe this? She’s fucking jealous.”
“Ellie,” He warned.
“I’m not jealous, Ellie,” You defended weakly, “I shouldn’t have to be! You’re my girlfriend, not D-Dina’s.”
“I know!” She yelled, patient growing thin, “I know! Christ…”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” You suppressed your tears.
“Get what?” She chortled, “That you’re jealous? And acting ridiculous?”
“Ridiculous?” You repeated, “You think I’m being ridiculous?”
“Yes!” Her eyes blew wide, hands emphasizing her anger.
You gulped, “Maybe if I’m being so ‘ridiculous’ you can got stay with Dina when we get back. What about that, huh? How’s that for ridiculous?”
“What?” She glanced at Joel again, this time more for help than out of amusement, “That’s not what I want.”
“Oh really?” You ignored your father, who warned you to stop, “Because that sounds like exactly what you want! You fucking flinched, Ellie!”
“So what?” She screamed, hands running over her tied back hair.
“So what?!” You exasperated, “You’re my girlfriend and all I can think about is how you want to be hers. And I mean why wouldn’t you want to be… I’m fucked. And don’t deny it, Ellie, I know, my dad knows. And one day, sooner or later you’re going to know. And you’ll end up with her... It will always be her…”
Ellie sucked in a harsh breath; you name falling from her cracked lips.
“Leave it,” You mumbled, pushing passed your dad, who watched you carefully and with concern, “Let’s just get on with it.”
Joel cursed as you stormed ahead of them, turning to Ellie with a scolding look, “Fix it.”
 Ellie nodded, shakily, guilt forming in her gut, “How?”
But Joel didn’t have time to respond. Your scream echoed down the stairwell. The pair yelled your name but all they were met with was infected, clickers, dozens, and dozens of them. They lost sight of you entirely – fearing the worst.
The rest was a blur, you thought. You couldn’t remember how many you killed or how you got out of the building, how you even survived. But you ended up here, uninjured, cold, and alone.
You cursed yourself. Because it was your fault. You picked the fight. You let your jealousy get the better of you. You ran ahead.
And now Ellie and your dad, well, they could be anywhere.
That was the scariest feeling in the whole world.
x
“She’s not here.” Tommy’s words echoed around Ellies mind.
Her and Joel, somehow, had gotten back her in one piece. Maybe because they had tricked themselves into thinking you would’ve beaten them back – that fueling their energy. But you hadn’t.
“She’s not here.”
Joel’s face switched. His eyes felt so far away. Unshed tears lining them. He looked at Ellie as if she was a stranger. Like it was her fault.
Ellie broke down straight away. She wanted to feel embarrassed about it, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be.
You weren’t here. You weren’t home. You weren’t anywhere.
Joel refused to leave the wall. He told them that they didn’t know anything, that they didn’t know you. That you would be back, you always did. You were Joel Miller’s girl after all.
Ellie locked herself into the room you shared. She hugged your pillow to her chest, her aching burning chest.
This wasn’t right.
First her mom.
Then Riley.
Then Tess.
Sam.
Henry.
Not you. Never you.
This couldn’t be how she lost you. You had been through too much for it just to amount to this. For it to amount to nothing.
She couldn’t stop crying. She feared she never would.
All she needed was you.
x
It took you three days to get back to Jackson. The weather, the infected and a hurt ankle that you had gotten on the way slowed you down tremendously.
You almost cried as you saw the gates. You picked up your speed, sprinting back home now, neglecting your limp.
A horse met you halfway. Joel cried when he saw you, alive. He knew it. He goddamn knew it.
He had never moved so fast in his life. He dismounted the horse and sprinted the short distance to you.
“Babygirl,” He pulled you into his chest, holding you like a porcelain doll.
“Dad,” You beamed, wrapping your arms around him.
“I knew it, baby, I knew you’d make it back,” Joel told you.
You nodded against him, tiredly.
“You okay?”
You pulled away from him, “Fine, jus’ my ankle.” He stared down at it, blood soaking through a makeshift bandage you had tied.
“It’s not-“
“No,” You calmed him, “Snagged it on some barbed wire – wasn’t looking where I was going.”
He nodded, taking in your features, your everything and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “C’mon… someone owes you an apology.”
You chuckled, accepting his help getting on the horse, “She okay?”
He scoffed, “Without you, no.”
Yours and Ellies door was closed when you got back home. You never thought it would look so daunting, until now. A closed door with you on the other side, with Ellie feeling so far away.
You slowed your breathing, limping until you were face-to-face with it. A sighed escaped your lips as you shakily knocked. No movement, no noise. Complete silence.
You frowned, knocking again, harder. You were met with the same.
Your hand found its way to the handle, hating how grating the noise it made was.
Ellie was motionless on the bed. Her body was molded around your pillow, tear stains becoming at once its new style. “E-Ellie,” You breathed out.
She jumped, head shooting up in your direction. Ellie cried out your name, urging you to rush to her. Her arms abandoned your pillow and made their home back on your body, on your skin.
“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” She sobbed, grip tightening, “I love you. I’m sorry.”
You smiled, kissing her shaking hands sweetly, “Its okay, Ellie. I’m sorry too.”
She shook her head, pulling you closer, as if that was possible, “You were gone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I heard your scream,” She croaked, “I thought… not you. Not you…”
“I’m here,” You whispered, kissing up her neck, “I’m here, baby.” Ellie nodded at your words, accepting your love graciously.
Kissing along her jaw, you finally found her lips. They moved in sync, performing a dance you both knew well but at the same time the tone was different.
Ellie was more desperate. Angrier. Sadder.
You kissed her, nevertheless. Hoping to fight away those feelings.
Ellie smiled against your lips, pulling apart hesitantly. “Never go again,” She whispered, forehead falling against you, “I couldn’t bear it.”
“Never,” You told her, “Never again.”  
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