#chubby cheeked pretty sister of my lady

[from1837to1945]

Marguerite Marsh Loveridge in The Phantom Honeymoon (1919)

[hearts4joon]

00. the end. NEVER TEAR US APART.

summary. waking up 300 years later, you're thrusted into the modern world - one where the loves of your life no longer know who you are, and despite being one of the most powerful witches in your decade, you're no match to the newest forces fighting to tear you apart, leaving the men with the familiar faces to care for the weird witch.

pairing. ot7 x reader

warnings. harassment, fighting, blood, violence, g*ns, death!!!!, lots of talks of lack of rights, mentions of sex.

word count. 10.1k

authors note. super important!!! all the members have a different name for this chapter but they’re quite similar to their rela names! just incase, here’s a little guide.

namjoon: hajoon, seokjin: seokjoon, yoongi: yeong, hoseok: hyon-seok, jimin: mi-jin, taehyung: jaehyung, jungkook: jung-hwa.

You run down the dark forest, jumping over every tiny bump in the place you find huge comfort in. The floor is soft, dirt still seeped with water from the last time it had poured, which was just the night before. The air was cold, whipping against your slightly chubby cheeks, numb from the gusts of wind. Your dress was wet from its bottom edges as well and you were sure you would never hear the end of it from your mother, but you were too entranced in winning the race.

“You’re cheating!” Jung-hwa yells out to your laughing form.

“I am not!” You call back out, the huge smile on your face not leaving for a second.

“You’re using your powers! I just know it!”

“Am not!” You gasp out, the two of you slipping as you try and stop your fast bodies from colliding into the others. A pair of arms grab onto you before you get the chance to fall, clinging on them as you meet their touch.

“You can’t blame my wins on my power, Jungie.” You call out to him, panting from the run.

“I-it’s only because you do use them.” He waves you off, bending over, leaning his strong arms against his knees.

You scoff, turning to the man that had managed to grab you. There’s a bright smile decorated on his pretty face, dimples prominent. “Hello, pretty.” Ha-joon coos, leaning his forehead against yours. You can’t help the happy giggle that erupts as he holds you closer to his body.

You’re pulled out of the guys embrace and into another warm pair of arms. They’re not as big as Ha-joon’s and for that, you can easily tell it’s Yeong. You lay your head against his chest, content as he holds the back of your head gently. “I was beginning to get worried.” He sighs, “you and that dimwit took far too long.”

“Hey, we would have been sooner if this lady would just stop fixing her hair.”

“A lady needs to look beautiful.” You scoff under Yeong’s embrace.

“It didn’t matter in the end! Look at your locks now!”

“They’re fine now, my love.” Yeong assured you, patting down the last piece of baby hairs.

You turn about your hiding spot, only spotting Mi-jin, Seokjoon and Hyon-seok, missing Jae-hyung. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion, putting a bit of distance between you and your gummy-smile lover. “Where’s Jae?”

“Not sure,” Mi-jin answers, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “He had to watch his little sister for a while.”

“He’ll just be a little late.” Hyon-seok assures you, taking you into his arms. You laugh out loud wrapping your legs around his waist as he lightly spins you. “I promised I’d give you extra kisses for him.”

“Is that so?” You joke right back, puckering your lips out for him. He doesn’t waste a second, pressing his lips against yours. The swarm of butterflies that swarm in your tummy makes you smile in-between the lip-lock. The man pulls away, foreheads touching as he smiles down at you, a sweet look on his face. “I don’t think it was enough.” You shake your head, a feigned look of hurt sprawled on your features. “I need a bit more to make up for it.”

“I’ll give you all the kisses in the world when we head inside, alright?” He promises, putting you down, legs finally touching the floor. You don’t hesitate to take Ha-joon and Hyon-seok’s hands on your way to the cave you all had found.

It was dark and cold at first, but with materials from Seok-joon’s fathers shop, he got to put up a few posts for torches, and you often used your own gift to light up the place, which they loved to watch. In the end, the eight of you spruced the place up, creating a safe space. No one knew of the place, no one but the eight lovers of course. It was their safe haven from the cruel world they were made to live in. A place where you could be yourself and practice the gift given to you.

You skip into the cave, heading deep into your shared space. Yeong from behind you lit up his torch, lighting the rest as he made his way in. Instantly, the cave begins to warm up, the flames dancing around the place.

“Seokjoon, pull the blankets out, will you?” Hyon-seok calls out to the oldest guy. He nods, doing exactly as asked, wrapping one of the bigger pieces around your shaking body.

“Is my baby warm enough?” Seokjoon coos, wrapping you up in a big hug. You shiver in his hold as he places warm kisses around your face. “My baby, I always warn you to wear your warmest clothes.”

“I lent them to Jack.” You mention your youngest brother who had wanted to play with some kids. Your mother wouldn’t let him because she had yet to save up enough and buy him the warmest cloth you could find in your village. You quickly offered up your own jacket and wraps, to which he gave you a huge kiss on the cheek before he left in an excited flurry.

“Hmm, you sure are a nice sister.” Jung-hwa pulls you from his partner’s hold, dragging you to sit in the middle of the cave like he liked. He sits across from you, pulling your hands out. “Show me again.” He urges, eyes sparkling with excitement.

You laugh at his excited demeanor, pushing the blanket off of your shoulders. You hold your hands out further, eyes on Jung-hwa to catch every muscle movement on his face. You can feel the other’s eyes on you, also ecstatic to watch the way your fingers conjured something out of thin air.

Softly, you begin, “Post tenebras spero lucem.” And just like that, a ball of light is hovering over the palm of your hands. Jung-hwa is in complete awe, looking at it from every angle possible, eyes bright. “Want to see something I’ve been practicing with Jack?” The guy nods excitedly, looking up at you in awe.

“Hold your hands out.” You usher him, and he does as told, cupping his hands out like you were doing. You don’t let your mind drift from the ball of light as your wrists move upwards, letting the tiny power of light flutter into Jung-hwa’s hold. The giggles he lets out are heartwarming, making you and the others giggle with him as he twists and turns his arms to get the ball to move with him.

“How is this possible?” He squeals out, the light illuminating his face beautifully.

“It’s just a small induction of power.” You shrug, swiping at the ball, your mind releasing the ball. It disappears from his rough hands, but he’s not upset like you thought he’d be, rather, he’s on a high. “It’s easier on my body to do it with another witch but it’s still pretty cool, huh?”

“I wouldn’t know what to do if I had that power.” Mi-jin takes a seat beside you, laying his head on your shoulder. You chuckle at his words, patting down on his brown locks, they were fluffy and long, overdue for a haircut.

“Well… you don’t really do much with it to begin with.” You begin. “It’s just there…”

“But you do practice it, don’t you?” Ha-joon questions, taking his own place in your huddled circle.

“We do. But it’s just to control them, we are not supposed to use them outside of repressing them.”

“Supposed to.” Yeong chuckles, taking his own spot. “That doesn’t stop you does it?”

A cheeky smile erupts on your face. “I just think we shouldn’t hold a single part of ourselves hidden.”

“Even if it’s the best course of action for your kind?” Seokjoon questions, a brow up quizzically.

You shrug, dismissing the same argument you had with your mother. “Just because we embrace it doesn’t necessarily mean we’d share it with normal folk.”

“Would that not be a part of embracing it?”

“It shouldn’t have to be.” You can feel your excitement building at the plans you had shared with your mother. “There’s a huge number in our community and I think it would benefit to have us all live alongside one another. Have our own land, our own laws, our own schools — a nook in the world where we can be ourselves.”

Seokjoon smiles as he listens to you go on and on about your plans for the future of you and your people. You spoke animatedly, arms thrashing around to get your point across, all loving faces directed at you.

“I’ll help.” Jung-hwa is the first to offer. “I can help build these schools.”

You coo at his cute words, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. He blushes bright at your antic, lathering in your touch. “I need my strong man to help me.”

“Men.” Yeong corrects, “your strong men. We’ll all help.”

You laugh at his possessiveness. “Of course, Yeongie.” You assure him with a nod. “You all can help.”

“We’ll make it the safest place.” Ha-joon agrees, placing a sweet and chaste kiss on your temple.

“I’m holding you all to that.” You stare at them seriously. “So we can live in harmony.”

“Promise.” Mi-jin’s sweet smile is enough to settle your twinges of doubt. You place a warm kiss to his plump lips, only pulling apart when you hear the sound of steps. Turning, you watch the dark path worriedly, the other’s sharing the same look of worry.

Relief wafts through your body at the sight of Jae-hyung. You smile bright, love swarming through your body once more at your last love. “Jae,” you rise from your spot, ignoring how dirty your skirt now was. You rush to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he welcomes your touch. His hold is strong, bringing you as close to him as possible. That makes you giggle, even more so when he inhales your scent shakily. “Are you alright, Jae?” You question, fingers gliding through his thick hair.

He nods against you. “I’m fine, beautiful.” But he doesn’t let you go, the others sharing a concerned look. “Just missed you is all.”

“I missed you too.” You rub at his back soothingly. While you were unsure what it could be, he was shaky and tense. Perhaps it was how busy his job could get ontop of taking care of his younger sister, so you shrugged it off. It wasn’t anything you and the boys couldn’t help him out with.

“You know I love you, right?” His sudden question doesn’t shock you, rather, it concerns you.

“Of course,” you pull away from him, arms settling on his waist as you look up into his deep brown eyes. “I love you too. But what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

He nods, that boxy smile of his directed at you now. It settles your nerves, assuring you all is fine with him. “Okay… I showed the others this cool trick, come, let me show you.”

—

You held onto your basket of herbs tight in your hands, legs moving fast to evade the man following you.

“____!” Baekhyun calls out to you, an obnoxious mustache on his upper lip. “I just want to talk!”

“My father has declined the proposal. It’s best you leave me and my sisters.” You call out to him, annoyance evident.

You feel a tug on your long skirt, a gasp erupting from your mouth. You pull away from his hold, your dark purple skirt swinging in the air as you look over at him, eyes wide. “You are not to touch me!”

“You are not to raise your voice at me!” He hits back, just as enraged. “You and your pathetic little family have no right to treat me this way.”

“We are not treating you in any unfair way.” You scoff, glaring up at the man. “You harass me and my eldest at every hour of the day — this treatment is only the cause of your own actions.”

“She will marry me.” He seethes.

“She's far too good for a ridiculous man like you!” You raise your voice, anger finally getting the best of you. “My sister will never marry someone as dim-witted as you—” your body falls to the side as his big hand collides against your cheek. You feel the small pebbles on the dirt path ingrain into the palm of your hands, cheek stinging, a metal taste in your mouth.

“You make sure you know where you stand!” He spits at your shaking form. “Your family may play a huge hand in the village but you are still a vile and filthy woman!”

You don’t respond, tears brimming your eyes. Not for the pain. Not for his comments. You’re crying in anger, knowing he’s right. Despite holding the upper hand from the mere mortal, you have no authority and no power. You hated feeling powerless when you held more magic in the tip of your finger than anyone known to mankind. You were a woman. A woman whose family and long line of witches and warlocks have been hidden in the shadows, learning to hide the biggest part of themselves.

And so with one last sneer and a glob of spit thrown into your basket, you’re left to cry on the empty dirt road.

—

Your younger sister prances about the room as the oldest helps her finish packing up her remaining clothing. It wasn’t much but your youngest wasn’t the type of person to fold her own clothes, leaving the others to do such a thing for her.

“What if I meet my prince?” Julie swoons, stomping her feet gently with an excited giggle.

“You’re fifteen years old, you are finding no one but your way to the shop.” Imelda scoffs, finishing up with the last piece of clothing.

You make sure to stay out of their way though, the two falling into arguments often. Mother tried to calm the two but it was no use, the twenty-six year old would never share a single thing in common with the fifteen year old.

Grace nudges you, head nodding to Olive who stared out of the window wistfully. Turning back to Grace, you shrug, unsure what’s going on in your other sister's mind. But Grace nudges you once more, making you sigh softly before scampering up off the cold and dark wood, heading straight towards Olive.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Olive’s attention is brought onto you, a small smile gracing her beautiful features. Out of all the siblings, you and her shared the most similarities, almost a spitting image of you.

“I don’t want to leave.” Olive huffs out, her eyes watering instantly. It makes you feel panicked, taking a quick seat across from her, your soft hands on her cheeks.

“I know, Liv, I’m sorry.” You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for. Maybe it’s for the guilt of staying back while her young self has to work away from her family.

The girl wasn’t too young than you, just a year and a half separating the two, but her sensitivity and tendency to cry at any minor inconvenience made her seem years younger. Your father loved her for feeling so much, swore it would make her the best person she could be but it was in complete contrast from your mother’s lessons. Which wasn’t a surprise, despite being the woman in charge of your education in all aspects, she raised such different daughters, neither of them ever really following her word.

“What if I can not make a single friend? What if the job is harder than I thought?”

You send her a small and comforting look, “what could possibly be harder than running back and forth in this cold forest for a gallon of water?”

She lets out a small snort of laughter, sniffling softly. “It’s not the same.”

“Is it not?” You hum gently, dabbing the last of her tears before pulling away. “You have the type of energy that everyone loves. I can assure you, no matter where you are, people will love you.”

“Wanna swap spots?” It’s a joke but you can’t help the sad smile as you coo at her.

“I would give up everything to switch, you know that.”

“But that would mean giving up on mom and dad.” She finishes for you. You nod softly, looking out the window with her.

“You’re going to do wonderfully, Olive.” You assure her.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a few seconds. The silence is gone when Olive begins, “I… I can’t help but feel like something bad is going to happen.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her words. “What do you mean?” You question.

She shrugs, suddenly embarrassed at her random admittance. “I’m not sure. You know that feeling before a huge spell?”

“The chest burns.” You nod, understanding her completely.

“I can’t shake the feeling away and it just doesn’t feel right.”

Getting up from your spot you take a seat next to her, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “Everything will be fine, Olive. I promise.”

She sighs shakily, nodding against you. “Okay… everything will be fine.” She repeats, but it’s clear she’s not sure of herself.

“Olive!” Imelda screeches at the sight of her sister still not dressed for the trip. “This is the third time, go and get ready!”

Olive scoffs, rolling her eyes at the eldest. “And you,” Imelda’s eyes fall onto you. Almost on instinct, you pull away from Olive and scamper back to Grace before she scolds you any further. “I can feel the grey hairs growing.” Imelda scoffs, strutting out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

That ushers Julie to jump up from her seat and chase after the oldest head on, “don’t go slamming doors! We did nothing wrong!” Her voice begins to fade as she walks off.

“Julie, stop!” It’s Olive’s turn to rush out of the room, ready to stop the fight if it worsened.

“Girls, enough!” Your mother yells as you and Grace rush to watch the scene unfold. “I understand tensions are high but we all need to act like respectable women.”

“Neither of you have ever been such a thing.” Jack snorts, your father and him sharing a high-five.

“Ugh,” Imelda scoffs. “And there go the men, without a worry in the world!”

“Imelda, do not speak to your brother like that!” Your mother gasps as if she had never heard such a disrespectful tone.

“She has a point.” You shrug, which once more, earns a small nudge from Grace.

“Would you like me to rush you off to the city, young girl?” Your mother glared at your figure. Mockingly, you give her a graceful bow, picking up your skirt at its sides.

“I would like to volunteer as tribute.” Grace lifts her arm up excitedly.

“Since when have you wanted to head into the city?” Your father questions the girl, thick eyebrows furrowed.

“Since Harriet told me of the handsome and courteous men she met.” Grace swoons at the tales a neighbor had told the family.

“Maybe she should go.” Olive agrees, “it will help her marry quicker and let us stick it to Baekhyun.”

“No one is sticking it to anyone.” Mother scoffs.

“We should.” Julie nods in agreement. “Imagine the victory.”

“It does sound nice.” Jack hops right back in, “can't wait until I’m taller to beat him up.”

Imelda and Julie fall into fits of laughter at his words, “you’re never getting taller.” Julie cackles out.

“Dad says it’s coming!” Jack yells defensively. “Right, dad?”

Your father stays quiet, looking off into the distance. You can’t help but laugh loudly at your brother’s sullen face.

“Come on, don’t be mean!” Grace coos, rushing to the small boy and wrapping her arms around him. He fights in her hold but she doesn’t give up. “He just wants to stand up for his dear sisters.”

“I can take a bulky man better than this twig.”

“Mom!”

“No more teasing your brother,” but it seems your mother is just as amused. “He’s going to be the man of the house one day.”

“Man of the house.” Imelda scoffs, Julie giggling next to her. “Let’s talk about more important things.”

“Like what?” You ask the girl with a bored expression.

“Like your own marriage prospects.” She hits back making you roll your eyes.

“What about yours?” You throw back. “I don’t see you in any rush to marry.”

“That’s because I’m far too busy taking care of scoundrels like you all.” She turns to mother as she speaks her next words. “She came home covered in dirt and sweat just a few nights ago!”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell!” You gasp with embarrassment as you feel your parents' eyes on you. “I hate you!” Like a child, you continue to argue with your family, oddly relishing in the last time you’d all be in the same room together.

—

“What is the prettiest girl in the entire-whole-wide world, up to?” Seokjoon’s voice makes you look up from the small cluster of growing flowers.

“Seok—”

“What the hell happened?” His long strides pull him towards you, holding your face as gently as he could. He winces as you do, a look of fury in his eyes. “Who did this?”

“It’s fine,” you send him a reassuring smile. “my father already helped—”

“Who did this to you?” His words are a lot rougher, something you didn’t get often from your eldest lover.

“Baekhyun.” You blurt out, feeling nervous under his strong gaze. You turn your head away, gnawing at your inner lip.

He lets out a shaky sigh, pulling your face to look back up at him. His soft features stare down at you, beautiful looks making him look as graceful as ever. There wasn’t a single maiden in your village that didn’t go after him — often leading to your blowouts of jealousy. But alas, there was nothing you could do but make sure he knew who he belonged to behind closed doors.

“And your father? Has he spoken to his father?”

You nod, a soft sigh coming from you, shoulders slumping. “He has. He is also persistent in getting my sister's hand in marriage.”

“Scum.” Seokjoon scoffs. “I will happily do something about him.”

You roll your eyes, “yeah? And what will you do?”

“Make Jung-hwa go after him, of course.” It earns a laugh from you, the thought of the youngest of the bunch going after the imbecile.

“Jung-hwa can not get into any more trouble.” You scold, poking at his shoulder lightly. “His mother will send him with his father out to sea.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it to see Baekhyun finally put in his place?”

“No!” You shake your head fervently. “I need him with me!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs as he takes a hold of your half full basket. “I promise I won’t speak of it to Jung-hwa.”

“It’s only for the best.” You agree, watching as the older man bends down, picking at a few flowers. The weakest ones, letting the others continue to flourish as they should. “Have you seen Jae-hyung?” You question, thinking back to one of the youngest men.

“Not in a while.” He shakes his head, getting back and leading you to another bed of flowers. “Last I heard, he was preparing his sister's departure.”

“Right…” you nod, “she will be heading into the city. I haven’t heard from him a while.”

“The others haven’t either.” He shrugs. “I’m sure he’s fine. You know how he gets with these things, he’s the head of his family. He’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

“I know.” It makes your heart ache to think of the pressure he’s under, unable to do much about it.

A soft pair of arms wrap around your figure, making you giggle as big hands lay on your stomach. “We are going to be spotted, Kim Seokjoon!” It doesn’t stop him from holding you tight, hands dancing about your abdomen.

“Let them,” he hums, placing a sweet kiss at the top of your head. “Then I’ll be the one to marry you, have the others hide their affection for you.”

“You are pure evil.” You laugh, slapping at his hands.

—

“I’m so bored.” Mi-jin extends his words as he lays his head on your thighs. He had been staring up at you for a while, but you were quick to place a hand over his eyes, his look making you nervous. He gave up soon after, simply playing with own hands or with a loose thread of your clothing, but he voiced his thoughts often. “Let’s go to the cave.”

You shake your head no, fingers running through his hair, other hand carrying the book of spells you and your siblings were taught. Before you had requested to keep the incantations written down, only one witch had done it prior. Spells and rituals were lost along the way of the suppression, but little by little, you and your siblings were working up with a true witch's book. That, of course, wasn’t easy. There was a scarce amount of equipment to do such a thing, and you kept it hidden from your parents which was a feat in itself. It was worth it if it meant your future and your peoples future was secure.

“We are supposed to be doing something fun.” Mi-jin pouts, a whine to his voice. Pulling the book from your face, you look down at the beautiful man. His luscious hair curved at the front, creating a stunning swoop across his face. “This is not fun. In any sort of way. I’m actually very bored — the exact opposite of fun!”

You can’t help but laugh at the exasperation of his voice. “I have to gather at the very least two more spells before I get to run off with you.”

Mi-jin scoffs, “I hate these rules.”

“Aw, come on,” you coo, tapping his chubby cheek with your index finger. “You know this is for my survival. Be happy for me.” It’s mostly a joke, but it makes the man’s face fall, and you’re quick to notice how serious he’s taking your words.

“We shall keep going!” He hops up from his position, taking a close seat beside you. You find yourself squished up against the wall of your room, the cold wall making you shiver slightly. “Let us up the pace here! Your precious survival depends on this!”

A snort of laughter comes from your mouth as you turn to look up at him, “I can feel the love!”

He giggles, placing a soft and chaste kiss to your lips. “I would do anything to keep you and your people alive.”

You hum against his lips, a faint smile on your own lips. “My guardian angel.” You put the book to the side, turning your spot to sit over his lap. “You know… good Samaritans deserve nice gifts.”

He places his smaller hands against your hips, looking up at you with those shiny eyes adorned with the love he holds for you. “And what should my gift be?”

You trail wet kisses down his jaw, his form slightly tense under you, holding you tight. “You can pick.”

—

“I do not like this game.” You cringe as you look down at the lake, Yeong and Hyonseok beside you.

“Jung-hwa would not stop boasting about his jump,” Yeong scoffs, shivering as the wind blew against his shirtless figure. “I want to see what it is all about.”

“And I always tag along with him.” Hyonseok smiles bright at you.

You send him a feigned smile, “what a true friend! It seems I am not one of those because I am leaving.” You’re ready to turn and leave but Yeong holds you back, making you groan with displeasure. “Yeong! This is a death wish!”

“A death wish is hearing Jung-hwa bravely talking about this… all. the. time.”

“I can handle his boasting,” you claim, trying to shrug away from his tight hold. “I’ve dealt with it for years, I can handle a few more.”

“A few? You’re spending a lifetime with him,” Hyonseok laughs. “So you might want to rethink jumping.”

You stand still, looking down the edge of the cliff once more. There were small ripples from the wind that was picking up as the sun set, but the water was a deep blue. Darker in the middle, which gave it an eerie feeling but it didn’t stop you from seeing the tiny fish swimming through the lighter sides. “A lifetime?” You question, eyes not once leaving the water.

Unbeknownst to you, Yeong and Hyonseok share an accomplished look, pounding fists at their win. No one, not even you, could handle Jung-hwa’s tales of bravery. It was cute at times, watching him spew on about his latest conquest, but it would fall into smug words, making you all want to… well, making you want to jump off the edge of the cliff and dive straight into the lake.

“Whoever hits the water last owes me a slice of sweet bread.” Is the last thing you say as you hop over the cliff, catapulting straight into the water.

Your body only tenses up for a second, but the water hugging your figure relaxes you. Despite how scary it looked up on the cliff, the inner lake was beautiful. It was clean, beautiful rocks coloring the bottom, a few of the fish from the shore not too far, swimming about the cooler place. Bubbles flew out of your mouth, hair flowing around you in such a serene way, leaving the men stunned from your beauty.

You send them a smile before paddling to the surface, ready to fill your lungs once more. You gasp when you resurface, hands pulling your hair away from your face and eyes. The two others follow after you, whisking their own wet locks to further show off their beautiful faces.

“I clearly won, right?” You can’t help but taunt them with a laugh.

“Hyonseok lost.” Yeong swims over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, the both of you looking out at the sore loser. “He owes us sweet bread.”

Hyonseok scoffs, the pout leaving his face as he watches you two in disbelief. “You two jumped far too quickly! Rematch!”

“No, no way!” Yeong shakes his head, pulling you with him as he swims back, further away from Hyonseok. “We won, stop being a baby.”

“You should have at least counted to three! You jumped like maniacs!”

“These maniacs won, so…” there’s a taunting to his voice, making Hyonseok snap.

“Oh, you’re so getting it!” Hyonseok begins to make his way towards the laughing man as he pulls away from you.

You let the two chase after one another, laughing when Hyonseok swims beneath and pulls Yeong under. You cheer for both of them, making them both pout when you refuse to pick a side.

In the end, the three of you hastily put your clothes back on after laps of swimming. Still wet beyond belief, you all race back to the cave, laughter filling the air, the eyes on you going unnoticed.

—

“Show me another one!” Jung-hwa calls excitedly across from you.

You sat cross legged, a long skirt covering you up completely. It was warm, despite that, Junghwa wrapped you in his jacket, the same one his mother sewed for him a while back. He treasured it completely and it meant a great deal to have you wear such a priceless valuable. But he made you promise a few spells for his warmth and you would be a fool to pass such a thing up.

“Fine… but it’s the last time.”

“I promise!” He stands the candle back up between you. It was old and small, because despite how he loved to watch you work, he knew the strain it caused on your body to speak such heavy spells. If it were any other circumstance, you’d be fine, but with money lacking in your home, you weren’t as nourished as you should be.

Holding your hands out, you speak the simple phrase, “Ascendo.” A gasp erupts from the man’s mouth as the object begins to ascend, spinning when you twirl your finger.

“Ascendo.” He repeats, eyes not once leaving the candle, entranced. His big eyes are full of curiosity and excitement. He holds his own hands out, as if he were the one working the spell, making you smile bright.

Your lovers never treated you differently because of the blood you bore, it was a part as to why you fell for every single one of them. There were times when the eldest two and the second youngest of the bunch felt slightly uncomfortable, but they never outright detested you. It was mostly fear, fear that you’d be caught and hung for what most considered sins.

But Jungkook was never afraid. He stood tall, he spoke with authority, and he made sure to take in every inch of you. He loved watching your face of concentration when writing a new spell down, or the smile that graced your lips when you successfully worked through a tough spell. He loved that the hands he loved to hold in his, could conjure up the most magnificent of things. God, was he completely enamored with you.

“You think I can be a warlock in my next life?” Junghwa’s question takes you for a loop, but the hopeful look on his face makes you pause.

“You will be a warlock in your next life, I promise.” It’s silly to make such a promise, the knowledge of the afterlife was unknown to everyone, even the supernatural. That, of course, didn’t stop your beliefs. Reincarnation was a strong belief of yours and the witches around you. There was no certainty he would become one, or know whatever life he will get next, but it’s enough to make him happy, bunny teeth out on display.

“I hope you’re a witch in your next life too.” He reveals, taking a hold of your hand, letting the candle clutter onto the floor. “We can be together forever.”

You can’t help but laugh, your face feeling hot at his sweet words. “We’ll be together forever despite what or who we are next.”

“You really think that?”

“Of course!” You nod with fervor. “If we’re rocks? We’ll be on the same path. Trees? Our roots will be intertwined. Witch? Human? Well, I’m working on our future, but we’ll always be.”

“I can’t cry.” The man groans, covering his face with his arm. He sniffles softly, cheeks wet with tears. “My mother says it’s not very manly… but I can’t stop.”

You tsk, crawling to him, holding him in your arms. “You cry whenever you want with me. No manly crap in my arms, just us two, okay?”

“I’m crying even more now!”

“I’m sorry!”

—

“How are you so slow?” You huff out, the dirt path ahead of you soft and gooey from the rain pouring down on your village.

“You know I can’t run well! Much less in the rain!” Hajoon yells back out, careful with his steps. His arms were out, as if balancing him out. It’s a silly view, such a big man trying to slide through the storm with ease. But there was nothing easy to walking in a storm.

You aren’t actually annoyed when you stomp over to him, but he still sent you a sheepish smile. “Here,” you take his hands in yours. “Hold onto me.”

“No way,” he tries to pull away. “I’ll end up tumbling to the ground with you.”

You don’t let him go though, instead dragging him through the cold forest. “No need to argue, this is what I say, so it goes!” The rain only begins to pelt down harder, tingling against your skin.

“It’s too intense!” He yells over the pouring rain. “We have to take cover!”

“We’re almost there!” You shake your head, determined to meet Jaehyung in the cave. It had been too long since you had seen him and you felt your soul yearning for him.

“We can’t,” he begins walking down a more open trail, rushing for the empty openings sprawled around. “There’s a small space over th—” he lets out a yelp when he slips on his bum. Your own feet slip beneath you as you try and keep him from hurting himself, your white skirt covered in a hideous brown.

“Oh no, are you okay?!”

The loud sound of your laughter is enough response. He was completely covered in mud now, crawling over to you in a panic, and he looked so silly. It takes him a second to register what’s going on, but he falls into laughter with you when he spots your own body covered in the mud.

The rain only settled a bit, but you were still being pelted, giving you the perfect idea. “I can’t head home like this! My mother will forbid me from leaving the house!”

“And what are you proposing?” His eyebrow lifts when he catches sight of your mischievous smile.

“I think we should go for a wash.”

“A wash?”

“The lake isn’t far from here.”

“But the winds are crazy!”

“I need to wash!”

“Wash in the rain!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” The man helps you, holding your hand tight in his. Even with his protests, he can’t find it in him to say no to you, so he rushes the both of you off to the lake. Instead of being daring like your other lovers, he decides it’s best to walk down the path and simply dip in, which you aren’t opposed to.

Once there, you happily drag him to the lake, the two of you hopping in. You drench your bodies only for a second before coming back up and swimming further into the lake. The water is rippling with the drops of water falling majestically from the sky.

All the beauty around you, all you can focus on is Hajoon and how happy he looks to be swimming in the rain with you.

—

It was an overall tense situation you caught yourself in.

Baekhyun came to your home to be a bothersome person once more, father and crew by his side. The men waited outside, alerting you and your remaining family. It had been a week since your father and mother decided to move your sisters to the city, as a way to help make means or even marry for money. It was empty now, but sitting with the man you detested, it made you feel a bit more at ease.

He stood tall and cocky, as if he knew something neither of you did. He settled you and your family down first, around your table, where he sat with confidence.

“I’m here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” He prompts for the hundredth time.

You have to hold your scoff back as your father turns him down once more, your sister sitting angrily beside you, one of the only girls who had refused to leave, staying to care for the youngest and only boy. “It’s a nice offer,” your father announces at the mention of what they would give up for her. “But my daughter is not for sale.”

“You, of course, can decline the possessions we’re offering.” Baekhyun speaks smugly, staring your sister down.

“I’m declining the entire proposition.” Your father is getting angrier by the second and your mother takes notice of this, placing a hand on his arm. She knows her place though, unable to speak around powerful men. It settles him down, turning back to the man with a bored expression.

Baekhyun sighs, fixing his shirt up nonchalantly. That makes your eyebrows rise in suspicion, glancing out your window to see the men all tightening their holds on their weapons. “That’s a shame, really.” He clicks his tongue in an obnoxious manner, eyes falling on you. It makes you shiver, the evil look in his eye as he refuses to let your eyes go. “You all would have lived for much, much longer if you simply accepted my father and I.”

“Is that a threat?” Your father lifts himself up from his seat, protectiveness settling in. The chair scampers behind him, making your little brother flinch. That urges your sister to hop up from her own seat and push the little boy behind her.

“No, no.” Baekhyun laughs, carefully sitting up from his seat. He fixes his shirt once more, looking up at your father. “Threats are usually empty. This… this is a… a follow through to a threat.”

Your father grips the smaller man’s shirt, tossing him aside to fall onto the ground as soon as the door to your home bursts open. The men Baekhyun had dragged along clicked their weapons, pointing them at you and your parents. You take notice that your sister and brother are no longer there, having fled in the midst of the fighting.

“And what will you do?” Your father scoffs, refusing to move an inch towards the men at their weapons. “Kill us without a reason? That’ll get you all hung and you know it.”

Baekhyun flinches out a laugh as he rises back to his feet, the palm of his hands scraped at the strength of the shove. “I heard of a few hangings down south, a few women. Witches.” You freeze at the word, looking straight up at him. And his eyes are already on you. “I thought it was a bunch of foolery. Witches? If witches were real, why would God will it upon women? And I truly would have kept believing it to be fake if it were not for your daughter here!”

Both your parents turn to your frozen body. But there was no way. You were careful, absolutely careful with every move you took. And if you ever found yourself slipping, the men you associate yourself with caught you. There was simply no way.

“Grab her.” A strong hand grips onto your hair, making you yell out in pain. They drag you out of your home, stumbling down the steps and onto the street of your village. “___, ___, ___!” The man taunts from behind you as you shakily turn to look up at him. The loudness of his voice dragged others' attention, watching the scene unfold. “You’re the person I hate the most in the godforsaken village! Always walking around the place acting… acting like a man!”

You scoff, “I’m simply smarter than you. Does that hurt your ego?”

“___.” Your mother scolds you from her position, a gun held to her temple. “Stop talking.”

“Yes, ___, stop talking!” Baekhyun laughs, turning to the crowd that gathered. “The witchery hit our village, everyone!” There were gasps coming from all around, watching as your family got gunned down. They wouldn’t make a move before the news, much less would do now. “The pure evil the sacred word tells us about everyday is here! Living within these filthy creatures!”

The whispering begins, pointing at your shaking figure. Your anger was rising with every second, watching as the people you grew up with completely believed his words.

“And what evidence do you have to support such a ridiculous claim?” It’s Seokjoon that speaks, making you turn to look at him. He doesn’t bat an eye, instead, tackling the man head on with questions.

“Good question, good sir!” It’s a mock, but Seokjoon doesn’t let it deter him. “What better source than my own two eyes? Why, her lover, of course!” That brings a new onslaught of whispers and questions. “She whored herself off to the wrong man!” He laughs, pointing at his man to make a move for him.

Your eyes trail the mans body, your heart faltering when he grabs Jaehyung’s arm. You had been so stuck with your parents safety, you hadn’t taken notice of Jaehyung who was shoved to the side, beaten horribly. There were trails of blood cascading down his sweet face, one eye shut from the hits poured on him.

It’s then that you see Jung-hwa running up to the scene, Hyonseok following after him. They’re both looking down at you and back at Jaehyung with heavy breaths from their running and complete fear.

“Just a few towns over did this disease hit!” Baekhyun yells back out. “And us two, we’ve both seen it firsthand!”

“You’re lying!” Jung-hwa yells out, angrily. His eyes are wide, nostrils flaring as he worriedly watches the scene. “There is no such thing!”

Baekhyun shrugs, moving Jaehyung’s tired and aching body around in his hold. “Why don’t we ask the man she’s been spending her nights with? Tell them.” All eyes fall onto the beaten man. He hesitates, refusing to look down at your shaking figure, taking a few gulps before speaking.

“He’s right.”

“You scum!” It’s Mi-jin who yells now, running toward Jaehyung and tackling him. The crowd falls into a panic, women and children running into their homes and men staying behind to deal with you and your parents. No amount of times you spoke, or how many days you spent running around the village full of laughter and life, none of it mattered any longer. “How. Dare. You!” You can hear Mi-jin repeatedly bashing his fist into Jaehyung.

“Mi-jin!” You yell out, a loud sob racking your body as you get pulled up from the floor. “Stop! You’re going to kill him! Stop!” Hajoon runs to the man, pulling him off as best as he could, watching as a bloody Jaehyung coughs from his spot.

“Quiet!” The end of their gun is smacked up against your head, making you tumble to the ground once more, a nauseating feeling wafting through you. “I’ll deal with you last.” Baekhyun grips the back of your head with a fistful of hair, forcing you to look up at your parents. “For now, I’m going to make you watch them blow your parents fucking brains out.”

“No, no, no!” You try and pull from the man’s hold with cries. “Let them go! Please, please! Stop this!”

“I will, I will,” he tries to shush you gently but it doesn’t work. “Show these men what you can do and I’ll let them go.”

Your mother shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t. Remember, ___. Suppress yourself, don’t let them be right.”

“Wrong answer.”

A loud yell comes from your mouth as a bullet makes its way into your mother’s head. You thrash in his hold, in complete pain at the sight of your dear mother’s body falling onto the floor. Horrendous sobs rack from your body, not faltering for a second, even when a body tackles one of the men to the ground, another body following right after.

Your father gets lost in the fighting, barely getting a word in before slamming a body. And then he’s gone, a bullet hole straight in his head, a few feet away from your mother. Your chest tightens, all the air around you suddenly gone. The panic is setting and you’re so lost in grief you barely take notice of the way Baekhyun lets you drop yourself onto the ground, numb from watching such horrible deaths. You miss the way more bullets echo through the small village, sitting empty between it all. It’s not until you feel an arm lift you that you’re brought back to earth. Yeong is holding you, a gun in his hand and face splattered with droplets of blood.

“We need to get you out of here.” Is all he says as he leaves behind the others to fend for you and themselves.

“W-wait,” you pull from his grasp, rushing to Jaehyung who still laid deliriously on the floor. “We need to help him. They… th-they’ll kill him.”

“He got your parents killed!” Yeong yells out to you, full of anger. It’s evident it’s directed to the man holding onto life on a thread, but his worry makes it transcend to you. “He outed you!”

You shake your head with persistence, taking a kneel beside him and gently holding his face in the palm of your hand. Your hand is wet with his blood and you assume the blood from Mi-jin’s own hand, but it doesn’t make you pull back. “Jae. Jae, come-come on. We’ve got to go.”

He groans as he shakes his head, “g-go.” He coughs, blood coming from his mouth. “Yo-your…” he huffs, using every last ounce of energy he had to speak to you. “Your si-sister.”

“Wh-where’d she go?” You question frantically.

“L-left.”

“We need to go.” Yeong pulls you up, not giving you the chance to protest, dragging you down the dark forest you love to run around in.

The sun is beginning to hide, its last remnants creating a beautiful color between the trees. A huge contrast from the wave of terrified feelings you wore, but the world would never accommodate you.

“Our best hope is to just leave this place.” Yeong tells you, making you stop in your step. He stops as well, turning to you with a worried look. “What? Is something wrong?”

“I’m supposed to leave?” The fear is evident in your voice as it wavers. “And do what? Hide for the rest of my life? Live a lonely life?”

“I’m going with you.”

“And the others? They’re out there risking their lives for me! I can't leave them!”

“You can’t do anything to help, ___!”

“I can—”

“You’re not using your powers!”

You scoff, sniffling. “And why not? It’ll help us stop more lives being lost!”

“Because you can’t prove them right! You heard your mother! They won’t ever stop, all you can do is go. Go and live that long life you want!”

You shake your head, “I can’t… I can’t lose you guys too, please, let’s go back. I-I can stop them. I can.”

Yeong sighs, holding your face gently. “I can’t let you go back. We… We made a pact.”

You pull away from his soft hold, confused. “What?”

“We promised… we promised that we’d get you away if it ever got out. We’d fight until we can’t anymore and we keep you safe.”

“No, wait, no.” You’re frantic as you try to rush back to the scene, only to get pushed up against a tree, a hand covering your mouth.

Yeong stares down at you, wide eyed and a finger over his mouth. It’s enough to tell you that they’re around, the detested men who wanted to see you choke to reach a breath.

“I’m going to shoot,” Yeong whispers and you shake your head against his hold. He ignores you, your warm tears falling over his hand, going unbothered by him. “And you’re going to run, okay? Run as fast as you can. Don’t stop. Not for anyone.”

You shake your head again, urging him to stop but he simply counts down to three, pushing you aside as he blasts his weapon. But you do as told, running off in the distance, every sound of the weapon blasting made you flinch, more tears falling down your battered face. You trip over roots, over stumps, but you don’t stop, not until you’re sure they’re no longer on your trail.

Collapsing onto the floor, you let your aching body succumb to its wish, darkness flooding your every sense.

You awaken with a yell, loud enough to make the few birds in the sky scatter. The sky is dark, only the light of the moon and stars creating a small hue, but you don’t dwell on it. You scamper to your feet, mind muddled with the thought of your lovers, the men who often fought for your affection, finding middle ground for one thing: saving you.

The walk is long, the sun beginning to peak out, the sky decorated with a pretty hue of pink that fades into the soft blue you loved. You’re still far from the village, deciding to stop at the spot you had last seen Yeong. The intense man who had a passion for the arts that his father made and sold for the village.

Your heart breaks for the umpteenth time as you fall to your knees.

Right in front of you laid Yeong, lifeless and cold. The soft nose of his that turned pink in the colder weather was pale, and his usual rising chest was completely still. Around him laid the men he managed to kill for you. He had laid his life down for you and you didn’t do a single thing.

It’s then you decide to do the one thing your mother and father made you resist.

Walking into the quiet village, you take notice of the complete bloodshed. Jaehyung had been repositioned, sitting up against a wall, lifeless like your deceased lover in the woods. Surrounding him were a few men, a gun at his side, telling you he fought up until his very last moment.

His corpse sends a bigger wave of fury throughout you.

“___?” You’re pulled from your thoughts as a soft voice calls out to you. Turning, you meet Hajoon’s eyes. He looks tired, holding onto his stomach, flinching with every movement he makes. The blood surrounding him isn’t the bad mens, it’s his, pooling out from his open wound.

Running, you collapse right next to him, hands shaking, unsure of what to do with his gaping wound and slowly fading life. “I-I… there’s no healing spells. I don’t- I can’t. Hajoon, what do I do? I need- I can’t do this.” You sob, watching him smile softly at you.

“I-I know. I’ve,” he coughs out, “I’ve read that book of yours so many times.”

“Th-there’s a… another one.” You ignore his words, “here, I’ll, I’m going to try, okay? Stay still for me.”

“No, ___-”

“Asinta mulaf hinto, sho bala.” Your hands are shaking as you hold your hands over his wound, which he had let go of, far too weak to hold them up.

“That- ___, that’s not for healing.”

“Asinta mulaf hinto, sho bala.” You ignore him again, “Asinta mulaf hinto, sho bala.”

“That’s to take away- away pain.” He shakily breathes out.

“Don’t leave me.” You sob, but neither of you can do anything to help. He can’t make a single move, life leaves him with every second, and no amount of power in the world can reverse his dying body.

Your last seconds with him are him assuring you he’ll be fine, leaving you behind with a trail of bodies. The rest of them weren’t any of the men you loved, and you guessed they managed to slip out. You weren’t sure how far though, surely there were still others chasing them.

You spend the next few minutes cursing yourself and the universe. Cursing yourself for listening to your parents' horrible advice. For having such a strength and leaving the mere humans to fight for you. The universe for granting you such amazing people and yanking them from you with no second thought.

Your face falls into Ha-joon’s chest with loud sobs racking your body. You feel as if your soul is dying along with them. The men you loved were tethered to you in every way and little by little were they leaving you behind in this sad and cruel world.

The humans you had come to trust, the ones you grew up with, the ones who danced with you during festivals, the ones you told fake scary stories to during bonfires — they had betrayed you. Their evil souls, tainted with so much fear they couldn’t see the damage they brought onto his world. They took away some of the kindest and smartest beings you had the pleasure of knowing and loving.

Unforgiving humans with their petty prejudices. Unforgivable Baekhyun, who emerges from the darkness of the woods.

He looks beat. His face is covered with dry blood, lip completely busted to match his slashed eyebrow. His right eye is unbelievably puffy, a purple hue all around it. He looks as gross as he always did. And he doesn’t seem to notice you as he looks at his men and neighbors sprawled around the town.

With a shaky breath, you pull yourself off of Ha-joon, face cold from your tears. With a stumble, you make yourself known to the bane of your existence. The true evil your parents always warned you about. The loving parents who died protecting the family secrets, the ones who died by his hand.

It seems even a war can’t deter his horrible behavior. He scoffs loudly when his eyes fall on your bloodied body. None of the blood on your dress and arms is yours, but of the man you had to watch die slowly. He takes notice of your distressed state and he only pushes further.

“He,” he laughs with a wince. “He wouldn’t quit it.” The way he looks at Jae-hyung leaves you unsettled, nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. “Begged and begged to not do a thing to harm you. Quite an honorable man, truly. The only thing that made him snap was to threaten his—”

And that was your snap. Your long awaited breaking point.

It doesn’t take much for your power to surge throughout your aching body and out onto the devil himself. His body lifts off the floor, six feet up in the air, hands grasping at his straining neck. He tries to take big gulps of air, kicking around as if it would help him even an ounce.

All you see is red as he struggles for air, his eyes falling onto yours, pleading to be released. His begging look makes you laugh loud, right at him for thinking you’d do something so ridiculous like letting him go.

“Every life you live will be one of misery.” Your voice doesn’t shake despite the condition you’re in. “Every person you love will never hold the same sort of affection you hold for them. You’re going to beg and plead to any God out there to help you, to help ease the seething pain you’re in but everyone and everything will turn a blind eye.”

His face is red, sweat dripping down his face. The complete look of terror in his eyes makes you feel good. Good to see him the same way he let your loved ones feel before dying horrible and unjustifiable deaths.

“Your soul will be haunted until the end of time for what you’ve done here, Baekhyun, but know that not even hundreds of lives trying to make up for this disaster will ever be enough.”

With a quick flick of your head, his entire being is gone. His body falls lank onto the hard ground, every bone on his body snapped into pieces beyond help.

It’s scary how invigorating it is to finally end him. But it doesn’t help soothe your anger, and it’s evident with the way the trees around you wisp harder than they should for a day with no harsh winds. The panic of your lost loves is catching up to you, finally giving you the chance to look away from what you’ve done, frantic to find the others. It only worsens the way the earth is shaking around you, your entire world blurring.

It’s hard to see much of anything as the wind picks up, swirling around the land polluted with the foulest of energy. Your dress whisks around with the other objects picked up, hair going crazy with it. The little things only anger you further, mind in a haze.

“____!” The voice sounds familiar but it’s not enough to calm you. “Stop! ___, stop this!” They beg and plead but getting through to you is impossible when you’re this deep into your powers.

The bubbling inside of you is at its highest point, ready to spill out into the world. But after your surge, it wouldn’t be contained like those other times you practiced in the woods with your family.

You’re about to let loose, arms out beside you, chest ready to let go and release the most gruesome yell. But it doesn’t come. The earth stops and your mind is shut off as you fall to the floor, completely gone.

taglist. @singukieee

[aemma-velaryon]

The Seashell Drabbles Pt. 2

~~~

"She's beautiful," Laena beamed as she held the babe.

Laena and her parents were at the Red Keep, visiting Laenor, Rhaenyra and baby Aemma.

Her mother spent time with Rhaenyra and the babe while her father congratulated Laenor on 'doing his duty.'

"Thank you sister. I fear that she may be too pretty," Laenor admitted.

"Most people love having pretty daughters. It's easier to marry them off," Laena pointed out.

"Perhaps but with the situation here... I am worried. For my Aemma."

Laena understood why Laenor was worried. The tension between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra was palpable. And their mother was concerned about the political situation with the succession, as Rhaenyra had two brothers. [1]

"Maybe the Realm would accept Rhaenyra and Aemma..."

Laenor gave her a tired look; they both knew that she was lying.

"Anyways, what is it that I hear about you and Prince Daemon?" Laenor looked concerned.

Laena blushed, "Nothing. We hit it off at the wedding."

"Be careful with that man. He's dangerous, Laena."

"Don't worry about me, Laenor. Worry about your life. You are to be King Consort." Laena rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Laena." Laenor's voice lowered to a whisper. "He killed his lady wife-"

"Those are rumors, brother. Don't believe it."

Laenor sighed, knowing that he couldn't get through to his sister. She was smitten with that man.

Little Aemma woke up and looked at her father and aunt curiously.

Laenor smiled happily and took the babe from Laena's arms.

"My little sea dragon. Are you hungry?" Laenor cooed.

Little Aemma smiled happily, making cute noises.

"She looks like Mother." Laena commented, touching the baby's chubby cheek.

"No. I think she looks like you."

"Really?" Laena looked flattered.

"Yes."

~~~

Rhaenys was worried.

Rhaenyra and Laenor had their first heir but there was still the issue with the succession. Her cousin, the King, wanted Rhaenyra to be his heir but Rhaenyra had two healthy trueborn brothers: Aegon and Aemond.

If Rhaenyra tries to ascend the Throne, there would be a blood bath. Knives would come for Rhaenyra, Laenor and now Aemma. Rhaenys knew that the Queen and Rhaenyra were not on the good terms and it's very likely that the Queen would work to usurp Rhaenyra's (and Aemma's) claim, and put her son Aegon on the Throne.

Despite her concerns, Corlys was all for Rhaenyra's ascension to the Throne, despite the danger her son and her granddaughter were in.

Rhaenys had no choice but to look out for her family.

~~~

Author's Note: [1] - Alicent and Viserys' third son Daeron Targaryen isn't born yet.

[butterflypeatea3456]

Rhaenyra x Reader | Berries and Dragonfire | Chapter 3

Summary: New to Westeros as a diplomat, you find a friend in the princess of the realm. POC-coded reader, purposely vague about some details, self-insert away!

Once again you found yourself in the garden, for no particular reason you told yourself. After all your younger sister, Zolia. Was fond of all the pretty colors that the flowers produced. “Sister! Look this one is bigger than my hand!” She gleefully pointed out. You smiled and gently hushed her before anyone started to stare.

“I know everything here is new and fun, but we must stay composed” You gently reminded her. Zolia pouted her chubby cheeks as you patted her head amused. “Lovely morning, is it not?” A familiar voice approached.

“It truly is your majesty” You politely agreed, as the Queen approached with surrounding servants. She looked around your age, dressed in fine material all in Targaryen red and black. Zolia shyly stared up at her as well. “I do hope your stay has been pleasant, Lady L/n” Queen Alicent said. You gave her a small grin “It’s been quite nice, the people of King’s Landing have been kind, especially Princess Rhaenrya”

Her eyes perked at the mention of the Princess. “I see, the King and your Grandsire seem to have a good relationship” She continued. “I hope we could as well” You nodded, as Alicent gently nodded back. You wondered if she had been a shy girl, before becoming Queen.

“The babies are holding flowers” Your sister pointed out with a giggle. Alicent smiled at the young girl. One of the babes was holding a small daisy in the servant’s arms. “Are you fond of flowers?” Alicent asked while Zolia grabbed your hand nodding.

“You and your sister seem close, I hope Helaena and I will be the same” Alicent said. Looking back to the servant you assumed the younger babe must be her daughter.

Later in the day, it was decided that you would join a meeting as a cupbearer. “My girl, under no circumstances can you spill any of the wine” Your grandsire stressed. “I don’t even spill things that often, and the last time wasn’t my fault I tripped on the dress” You protested. He simply shook his head in response.

“Hello again” Rhaenrya greeted entering the hallway. “Pleasure to see you again Princess” You smiled. “My Father told me you would also be cup-bearing during your stay” She said. “I’m surprised my Grandsire pushed for it, given he doesn’t trust me not to spill the whole bottle” You jested.

Rhaenrya snickers in response, it appeared that you both would be spending more time together. Not that she minded it had been a while since she had another female companion. You were something different, a person she could further relate to in the Castle.

The both of you chatted while waiting for the council to meet. “What is it like to be bonded to such a powerful creature?” You asked the question lingering in your mind since you came to Westeros. She turned her head thoughtfully before responding. “It’s unlike any other relationship there is, Styrax and I have had one another since I was seven” Rhaenrya said.

Your eyes widened at her words. “Seven?! You must have been a wondrously bold child” You giggled. Not being able to imagine your little siblings claiming a dragon at such a young age. Though something told you that your brother, Omar would absolutely try.

“Have you ever been in the presence of a dragon?” Rhaenyra asked curiously. You shook your head. “Well perhaps you could accompany me to the dragon pit after this” She asked with a mischievous grin.

[mingyooed]

MINA || BABY

Mingyu was lounging in the living room sofa, legs crossed and his iPad on his lap with an old video of Seventeen playing when a little head popped on his line of view. He smiled and set his device aside to give his 100% attention to the pretty lady waiting for him to acknowledge her.

"Hey, my love. What's up?" Mina, your 4-year old daughter, beamed and slowly tried to climb up her dad's lap. "I have a question, daddy. I have a question." Every little thing she does sends Mingyu on a meltdown and this is no exception. Everything about Mina is adorable for him. Her small hands grabbed his hands and he helped her up. "Yes, what is it?"

After pondering for a few seconds, she looked up at him with the most adorable serious look on her face and shot Mingyu a question that made his mind go blank. He frantically looked for you and gave Mina a nervous laugh when she whined and pulled his shirt down.

"Can I get a baby sister, too?" She asked again and Mingyu tried to compose himself. "I think we should ask mom?"

Mina blinked at him and frowned. "But mommy said I should ask you."

Your giggles went unheard as Mingyu whipped his head towards you. With a pleading look on his face, you walk towards the two and sat beside them.

"Should we get a baby, Mina? Do you want one?" The little girl beamed and nodded her head. Mingyu laughed and nudged you as he held the happily jumping girl on his lap. "Where did she get the idea of getting a baby sister?" You shook your head and scooted closer to your husband. "I am not quite sure but just one day, she won't stop babbling about it."

Mingyu laughed and kissed your head before turning his attention to his little girl. "Mina, should we get a baby?" With sparkling eyes and a fit of giggles, she bounced up and down and nodded her head. "Can we buy one now?"

Not expecting her answer, you gently caressed her chubby cheeks and explained that you cannot buy a baby. She blinked at you, then looked at her dad, then back at you.

"But Jennie bought a baby yesterday at the mall. She also bought clothes and milk."

Then it clicked to you. She wanted a doll, not a real baby sister. Upon realization, you couldn't help but to laugh and you could sense Mingyu staring at you asking for an explanation. After composing yourself, you nodded at Mina and gently placed her on your lap. "If you will be a good girl and eat your veggies today, we will get you a baby sister, okay?"

Mina squealed and wiggled her way down your legs and ran to the dining table. "I will eat a lot of veggiebles today, mommy!"

You felt Mingyu wrap his arms around you and nuzzled his face on your neck. "So, I'm guessing she's not asking for a real baby, hm?" Nodding, you told him about the recent baby doll that's taking the toddler world by storm and he chuckled. "Let's get her that baby doll then before she starts asking for a real one."

[llycaons]

ep9: dafan wens my friends the dafan wens

imo this is def the weakest arc in the show. this episode was fun but whew, I think ep8 might have been my least favorite and we're still getting out of it

he asks this question way later in eps 20 and 43 or something and each time lwj is like 'we just gotta rush them' king of rigid problem-solving and only having one solution to any problem <3

threatening jc with lwj is kind of funny but on a rewatch it's like. ah

credit where it is due. jc almost expressed concern here for wwx

wwx defending lwj for zero reason and then turning and giving him such a sweet smile. bud you are so far gone <3

NOW IT'S DAYTIME?? not even dawn but BROAD daylight. mama mia

yeah, I feel like putting the zombied people in the cage would have been safer than putting the healthy ones in

IS HE. HMM

god this is so sad. look how miserable wq looks to see her popo like this

I don't like any of the surreal, drawn-out, misty sequences interspersed with fight scenes. I mean the waterborne abyss. I mean this forest fight. I mean a chunk of yi city. I mean the maze forest. I just hate the hazy atmosphere and there's usually no good character moments and there's a ton of worldbuilding magic that I can't follow very well and don't rly care for

this fight isn't bad tho! there's some fun banter and some cool angles, like the one above

ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT STRANGLING WWX. WHEN WILL HE CATCH A BREAK. this is the first of...four? jc, wrh, and jgy way later...let wwx breathe 2k23

also this is a VERY funny thing to worry about. lwj is very good at going Heady Empty (meditation) but wwx found it challenging due to having so many thoughts

I SEE BABY A-YUAN!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!

as much as I complain about him as a character I was THRILLED to see this little guy. I LOVE baby a-yuan and I think he's just precious. his survival was one of the things I needed to be spoiled for in order to watch the show without significant distress

though given the timeline this can't be a-yuan...he'd be way too old by the time the post-sunshot timeline rolls around. that's at least two years later. so I guess this is his older sister who looks the same as him. god but that's a cute little actor. love him and his big chubby cheeks and his little fingers and his baby wig

GREAT choice for little wn and wq too. they look just like their adult versions. actually I think the casting for all the kids versions of the adult characters was perfect except for a-yuan doesn't look a great deal like lsz imo

HA. wrh may be power-hungry and getting more unhinged by the day with the magic of the yin iron but he's still a more savvy political actor than his stupid fucking son. 'of course wen qing is going to intervene if you mess with her family, you fuckhead' lmao

SUCH a pretty shot I love how saturated the colors are for their outfits and headpieces

literally such a fucking funny scene. well-dressed young nobles hunting in the woods for a chicken. and wwx being so clever and getting wq alone so he and lwj can question her in private. curious how quick he was to cut nhs and jc out. nhs isn't from either of their sects, but jc should theoretically be trustworthy. except! wwx doesn't trust him. hmmm. even this early, he and lwj act as a unit. lwj's entirely given up trying to go it alone and now they work together nearly seamlessly

literally seconds apart. I fucking give up. and I don't think it's the translations because this has been a consistent issue in all the versions I've watched. it's 10! wq and wn are clearly around the age of the others so it's not 20

remember that post that's like 'jc: lady wen may I rub thine shoulders? massage your feet? feed you grapes? vs. wwx and wq doing a six-step handshake and laughing together' that NAILED it. jc trying to be attentive and gentlemanly bc he views her as a Woman and he's trying to fulfill the role he understands to be expected of him, as a man, in society ( to Intervene and Protect). meanwhile wwx views her as an independent actor in this shitty situation they're in. dgmw wwx is also sexist but he treats women more like human people than jc does, esp wq. he also thinks out of the box and isn't afraid to challenge social norms, unlike jc who's guided by social expectations because his parents haven't given him strong positive role modeling and he doesn't have strong instincts on how to behave outside of what he's been taught by society in general

but like I said. still sexist. it's not like being a creative and original thinker can save him from Living In A Society

lwj is very polite to wq, as he appears to be to all women, but I don't think he'd get close with any women because he doesn't get close with anyone at all. also I don't think he meets many women so he doesn't have much interaction with them outside of professional and impersonal settings so they've been at an arm's length from him since he mama died

jc is consistently so unpleasant to wwx. like would it kill you to be supportive of your brother when he's trying to solve a mystery. for ONCE

I like this waiter <3

be nice to the waiter my GOD jc. chill out. he's just telling a story

ohhh cinematic parallels to post-sunshot hmm 👀

overall the yin iron plot is overly complex, kind of silly, and imo feels extraneous, and I can def tell why novel fans dislike it. but it did give the boys and girl some quality time together and an excuse for exposition/backstory development and really, that's all the purpose it needed to serve before its bigger role later. now if only jyl was on more of these trips :( I miss my girl. I love wq but jyl is probably my favorite female character

personal highlights

wwx's cute little smile directed at lwj for no other reason than that he likes him

wwx finding it hard to concentrate in the woods because he just has too many thoughts, which he interprets are being so so smart (and he IS I love you wei wuxian)

nhs and jc going chicken-hunting in the woods

BABY A-YUAN DEBUT!!!!!

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Headcanons for the Dimitrescu girls with a chubby nonbinary s/o who loves food but gets super flustered over being handfed and/or groped?

Okayyy,... so I know you asked for headcanons, but I immediately got this scene in my head and I had to write it!  Also this ask was so cute and endearing and 🥺 dkjfkfjdkjf... Now i kinda wanna write more for this specific reader 🥺 aaaa.. Enjoy the utter fluff, my dears!  ♥️

****

You walked quietly as three sets of glowing eyes watched you closely. Each Dimitrescu daughter’s full attention on you as you took your seat at the table. You had been invited to dinner by the women of the house four times now, and each time you were more surprised than the last. 

‘Mother! Tell Bela it’s my turn to sit next to them!” 

“You literally just sat next to them last time, Dani.” Bela quickly replied.

“But we only ate soup that night! It shouldn’t count!” 

“I mean.. I’m sure if our guest has anything to say about it, they’d rather have me at their side.” 

You watched as Bela and Daniela turned to Cass, both giving her an exasperated look. 

‘Yeah, OKAY, Cass.” 

You chuckled as Daniela rolled her eyes, earning you a small wink from the red head.

“Daughters… behave.” 

The Lady of the house massaged the small space between her eyes before greeting you with a curious gaze. An instant flush rising to your cheeks.

“Keep all of this arguing up and I’ll have your guest escorted straight back to the servant’s quarters. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Mother. Sorry, Mother.” All three daughters replied in unison.  

“Very well. Now.. for today, how about we ask them who they’d rather sit next to.”

You blushed even harder as all four women looked at you, audible sounds of defeat coming from Bela and Cass as your eyes fell to Daniela, immediately biting your lip. 

“Ugh. Fine. But I get the next time.” 

It was the only time you had ever seen Bela pout - huffing as she took her seat next to Lady Dimitrescu. 

“Of course, my darling.”

“And then me.” Cassandra interjected.

“Yes, yes.. You will all get your turn, dears.”

You didn’t think you could blush any harder, completely disarmed by how enamored they had all become with you. And still - you weren’t entirely sure why. You knew you were kinder than most of the maids there. That you allowed your genuine interest in them to show, and that you had never once been afraid of being in their presence. Maybe it was because a part of you had always felt so safe there - nestled securely deep within the castle walls, away from the judgmental eyes of the townspeople. Not a single member of the House Dimitrescu had even batted an eyelash when you asked to be addressed as they/them. 

“Well, I’m glad to see someone in this castle has some taste.”

Daniela smirked as she took the next to you, swiftly turning her back to the rest of her family to give you her full attention.

“Heh.. glad you approve, Miss.”

She scooted her chair a little closer, stopping just short of touching you as Lady Dimitrescu cleared her throat.

“Daniela.. you will still be expected to follow proper table manners. Don’t make me say it again.”

“Fineee.. yes, Mother.” 

She gave you another wink as she turned her attention forward, forcing a swift blush to sweep across your cheeks. The food smelt as delicious as ever. Steam swirling deliciously around your slightly flushed skin as you took the food that was handed to you. And though you were entirely aware that the Dimitrescu’s plates all had an added ingredient or two, the courses were always impeccably made  (And of course they were, you knew how much hard work had gone into each and every one). 

“Psst… hey, sweets… wanna see a trick?’

You chuckled as Daniela took one of her meatballs, balancing it perfectly on the tip of her fork before spinning it flawlessly on the prongs. A smug look across her face as she gave you a smirk, popping the meatball straight into her mouth. 

“Impressive, Miss.” 

“Oh, I got a lot more tricks up my sleeves than that, my sweet.” 

You blushed fiercely at her insinuation, at her fingers that traced down your arms and over you curves. A slight whimper when she reached your inner thigh. She gave you a warm smile, raising a fork of meticulously spun noodles to your mouth. 

‘You’re so cute when you’re flustered.. you know that?” 

Your eyes immediately shifted nervously to the Lady of the house, breathing in relief as you found her in deep conversation with her handservant - paying neither of you any mind. 

“Is.. is that why you and your sisters enjoy my presence so much?” You asked nervously, bringing your eyes back to hers.

“Among other things…”

“... Other things? Miss?”

Daniela chuckled as she leaned in a little further, the warmth of her breath skating over your ear. 

“You’re also quite delicious…  your supple flesh… the way your cheeks flush ever so slightly at just the sight of us.“ She ran the tip of her nose up and over your temple, breathing you in. “And you smell… well.. I think any of us would be more than happy to feast upon you for a night or two.” 

“I.. I see.. thank you, Miss.”

“Mhm.. now… eat up.”

You took the food from her fork, blushing fiercely under her gaze. Daniela’s hand still resting on your thigh as she massaged it lightly. It was no surprise to you that the girls enjoyed flustering you. They had made that pretty clear fairly early on after your arrival, even asking for your consent before doing so. And how could you say no? Unlike many of the others in service to the Dimitrescus, you had always been well aware of your attraction to women, and you certainly weren’t one to say no when ones as beautiful as these wanted your attention. 

“Thank you, Miss.” Your voice was barely above a whisper - blushing even harder as she placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

You spent the remainder of the evening completely enveloped in Daniela’s unwavering attention. The eyes of the other sisters occasionally lingering over you, compelling a deep warmth to spill over your body, filling your heart. In all of your days living in the village - with its ugly glares and whispered hate that echoed through the muddied streets - you never once thought you would ever find a place that made you truly feel like you were home. But as the youngest daughter's fingers gently stroked over your cheek. A soft laugh escaping her lips with each noodle that you jokingly slurped. The fond looks that would paint over Bela and Cass’s faces every time that you caught their eye. And when the smallest of smiles that seemed to find it's way across the great Lady Dimitrescu’s lips - it seemed like maybe, just maybe, you had finally found that place.

[immersed-in-mischief]

To Have & To Hold (Loki x OFC) Chapter 17

Chapter 17

A few hours later, Jessica woke up with a new sense of purpose. Part of her still worried that she had opened up too much to Frigga this morning but in a few short hours, her daughter would be back in her arms. She would be to see her smile and hear her laugh again. The excitement only seemed to build as she thought about seeing the wonders of Asgard through Maddie’s eyes.

Nearly an eternity later, she heard another knock on her door and wanted to bolt out of the bed. Jessica had never been more excited to see Thor in her life. The grin on his face was contagious as he stuck his head around the door.

“Hello dear sister. I have someone out here who would very much like to see you if you are feeling well.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at how formal he still was with her sometimes.

“Thor! Just give me my baby already!”

As the door opened and Maddie walked into the room, Jessica felt like her heart was going to stop as the sobs let loose again. This time they were the happiest tears she had cried in a very long time. Her daughter curiously looked around the room as she held onto one of her uncle’s fingers with her entire little hand. When she saw her Mama, a screech exploded from her lungs as she ran up to the side of the bed with both arms up. Before she could move to reach her, Thor was already behind her and lifted her up onto the bed and into Jessica’s arms. It was truly one of the happiest moments of her life.

A few minutes later, the news had spread of the arrival of the “little princess” as she was already being fondly called. Annika quickly brought supplies that Jessica had requested that she would need to take care of Madison. Luckily she was able to find pretty much everything on the list so Thor only had to bring a small back of the necessities with him. Jessica also had the chance to meet the chambermaids that would be staying in one of the guest rooms in her chambers to help take of Maddie full time while she was still on bedrest. Soon after, Frigga arrived to welcome her granddaughter back to Asgard. Maddie had only been a few months old when Loki brought her and Jessica for a visit on one of his short trips back to handle the various business that was required of him. She couldn’t help but briefly smile at their happier memories together until her eyes scanned the room. Loki must know by now that Madison was here and even if they weren’t in a good place right now, Jessica couldn’t deny the love he held for their daughter,r so it genuinely surprised her that he wasn’t here as well. Frigga gave her a knowing smile before she went back to helping Annika and the other ladies set up various cribs and other items for their daughter.

Time flew by as Frigga and Thor said their goodbyes when dinner arrived for Jessica and Maddie. She was so happy for the extra help when it came time to get both her and Maddie both bathed and ready for bed. It didn’t take the tired little one very long to fall asleep in bed next to her mother. While Jessica promised she would call one of the girls in to carry her off to her crib that was set up in the next room, she was enjoying watching her daughter sleep. She couldn’t help but lay there and lightly trace her chubby cheeks and her little curls. How could her love for her child physically hurt her heart because it was so full? Staring at the face of their little girl that looked so much like her daddy made it impossible for Loki to leave her thoughts. He had never shown up to see Madison. Jessica tried to tell herself that Thor must have made a stop to see him first. The thought that he would stay away from their daughter as well just didn’t feel right. She was brought back from her thoughts by the feeling that they were being watched. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Loki’s figure in the shadows at the end of the bed but turned to find nobody there. If she was so tired she was seeing things, it was probably time to let them take Maddie off to bed and get some sleep herself. She would need her energy once that little girl opened her eyes in the morning.

Across the palace, Loki returned to his own chambers after making sure that Madison and Jessica were both safely asleep in their beds. After transporting directly back into his room from hers, the sound of movement behind him made him reach for his dagger until he recognized her magic.

“Mother. You know better than to sneak up on me.”

He didn’t have to turn around to know she was unhappy with him, so he made himself a drink before sitting across from her on the couch she had appeared on.

“Oh Loki, tell me it isn’t true.”

He took a long swig from the Asgardian liquor in his hand. His eyes focused on the liquid swirling in his glass instead of looking up at her.

“What exactly do you believe to be true, Mother?”

Frigga was now directly in front of him and lifted his chin towards her as she spoke, forcing his gaze onto her as it respectfully should be.

“Please tell me you aren’t cloaking your presence with seidr to visit your wife and daughter without having to actually face them. I know you haven’t spoken to the mother of your children in days, my son. It was impossible to miss the way you properly addressed your mother this morning but refused to gaze upon your own wife. We both know you wouldn’t avoid her chambers for four days after you just refused to leave her side when she was at death’s door. My suspicions were confirmed this evening when I felt your energy when I came to greet your daughter. How long had you already been there before I arrived?”

Loki turned his head away from her and got up to pace the room. She was the one person who could see through the illusions he had in place to hide his true state. They did no good against the one who trained him and since they were in the privacy of his chambers, he let them fall completely. His groomed and kept appearance shifted to the way he felt inside. His curls were now unruly and tangled. The actual armor he wore had been discarded days ago and all that remained was his worn in leather pants and wrinkled undershirt. Frigga approached her son and studied his face. The pain in his eyes broke her to the core. His bright green eyes had dulled in color as if the light inside him had gone out. They were now red and puffy and seemed to be continually filled with tears. The dark circles underneath them showed the toll so many sleepless nights had taken on his body and his spirit. With a sigh, he gave her the answers she came for.

“I had Heimdall alert me the second they arrived from the bifrost. Madison looked so small next to Thor and her eyes took in every single detail as they made through way through the palace halls. I returned to Jessica’s chambers just as they approached. I’ve never seen her so antsy in her life. Mother, the way both of their faces lit up when they saw each other again breathed life into my soul.”

Frigga returned to her spot across from him and watched as the memory of their reunion brought a light back to him.

“Then why not share that moment with them both, Loki?”

His gaze returned to the floor as he finished off the glass in his hand.

“Did you know that Jessica cries herself back to sleep after you and Thor leave from your visits? She tries so hard to make you both think that she is happy here and that she is happy with me, but the second you turn your backs, she sobs and wails into her pillow until she falls asleep from exhaustion. For the first time since she woke up the other day, she was actually happy. There were no tears tonight, mother. Just peace. Madison was able to give her that when I couldn’t. They both deserve so much better than me. I devoted my life to help her become a mother and now Madison and our twins can give her the unconditional love she deserves that she can’t get from me.”

“Loki, were you there for our conversation after your visit this morning?”

Frigga watched as he briefly met her gaze again before shaking his head.

“Son, your wife’s tears aren’t a result of your presence in her life but of your absence. She isn’t aware of the way you watch over her. In her eyes, she feels trapped and isolated here in Asgard with a distant husband she truly believes no longer holds love in his heart for her. We both know that it isn’t the truth, but Loki, that is Jessica’s truth.”

The tears in her son’s eyes spilled over as he returned to his seat across from her.

“Mother…”

“My Child. Please hear my words. Don’t shut her out like you have done to the rest of us. I know you may not consider us your real family anymore but that broken woman in there is your true family. You chose to eternally bind your life with hers and those beautiful little ones are a product of your love for her and the bond you share. If you continue to starve her of love out of your own fears and doubts instead of nurture and heal her spirit, you are going to lose her and the family you have built as well. I don’t know what happened between the two of you to cause such a vast distance between your hearts, but you almost lost her and those babies all in one moment and Valhalla has given you both a second chance to fix this. Do you really want to waste such a precious gift?”

Neither of them said a word as Frigga rested a hand on his shoulder before leaving him alone with his thoughts. Was it truly possible that he had misinterpreted Jessica’s pain? Maybe it really was his own fears and doubts that were standing in the way of their happiness. Nothing was going to get resolved tonight so Loki did what he had done for so many nights since he first arrived back in Asgard at her request, he drank until sleep came for him. It seemed to be the only thing that kept the demons at bay.

TH&TH:

@howdidurhammergrowchris @thedistractedagglomeration @hayden429 @ihavebeenfallingfor30min @ravenclawmarvel

@lady--lynn

@lokissidepeice

@queenofshinigamis

@emcsquared314

@lokis-little-love

@ladymischief11

All posts:

@youlightmeupfinn @salempoe @lokiprompts @dryyoursaltyoceantears @tgaylorxoxo @queenofallhobos @deanaddicted2 @vampire7595 @lokiswildheartcantbebroken

@pakalanalei

@joyful-enchantress @asgardianprincess1050 @donttouchmylaevateinn @dangertoozmanykids101 @morganmofresh @mad4marvelloki @huntress-artemiss @sititran

@mochie85 @themorningsunshine @mm2305

@sophiaedits @christineblood @meyocoko

@naturalavenger

@sleutherclaw

@muchadowriting

@fangirl1399

@howdidurhammergrowchris

@last-saturday-night

@apine7

[mariesdeluluworld]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙍𝙤𝙨𝙚

Chapter Three:

The time for (Y/n) to leave Highgarden and travel to Casterly Rock had arrived. She was all packed and ready to leave her homeland and family, wearing a smile full of sorrow. Though she didn’t want to leave, she wanted to stay at her home with her family. All she wanted was to stay and sit with her grandmother and drink tea and gossip. She wanted to stay and sew with her cousins and little sister. She wanted to stay and help the children of the many orphanages she and her family were involved in. She didn’t want to leave the summery breezes and sun in the Reach and trade it for the dry heat of the Westerlands.

“Oh, my little rose,” The Queen of Thorn’s placed her hand on her granddaughter’s cheeks, rubbing the smooth skin with her thumb. “I wish you well,” a sad smile found its way across her cheeks. “Take care of Margie, Grandmother.” (Y/n) shed a few tears and Olenna nodded. “I will. I promise, my love.” She pulled away from her grandmother and turned to look at her mother and father.

Mace and Alerie gave their daughter a willful smile. “Good luck, daughter,” said Mace, his voice gruff with emotion and strength. “Be safe and watchful, my dear,” Alerie kissed her daughter’s forehead. (Y/n) nodded her head. “I will mother, father, I promise.” She moved onto her siblings. Little Margaery stood in her pretty green gown holding Garlan’s hand as her bottom lip quivered.

“Oh, Margie,” (Y/n) hugged her sister tightly, as Margaery sniffled and cried into her shoulder. “I do not want you to go!!” she sobbed. (Y/n) pressed her lips together in a thin line and held her. “I know, dearest, I know. I too wish I did not have to leave, but I must.” She pulled back and gave her a small smile, wiping the six-year-old’s tears. “I promise to be back as soon as I can. We’ll have a garden party for my return and you and I can wear the matching dresses Beth made for us,”

“You promise?” Margaery sniffled and looked at her older sister with her doe eyes. “I promise, dearest,” (Y/n) brought her lips to her forehead and kissed her gently. Next to Margaery, Loras approached her, wearing his silks and his hair in golden curls.

“Oh Loras, my brave knight,” (Y/n) smiled at her little brother and brought him into her arms. Though Loras was not openly crying like his little sister, (Y/n) could see his bottom lip quiver and tremble as he was fighting the tears. Loras’s little arms wrapped around her neck and he buried his face in her shoulder. Loras was very fond of his older sister and loved her very much. She’d never been away from him so long before, and he did not wish to part with her. He wanted to hold her close and stay there until the end of his days. But alas, (Y/n) pulled away from their hug and she gave him her most charming smile.

“Chin up, little knight.” She placed her index finger under his chin and lifted it.

Next was Garlan — who stood tall, and put on his “manly” face, and gave (Y/n) a smile. “Farewell, sister! I wish you safe travels.” His older sister gave him a smile and brought him into her arms. Hugging his chubby body to hers as she said her goodbyes.

When she got to Willas, she was having a hard time keeping the tears from slipping from her eyes. Willas was her twin. He was always by her side. He knew her like the back of his hand. He was her best friend. And she was leaving him. Trading him for dry heat and a ball.

“Oh Willas,” Tears flowed freely as she ignored his outstretched hand and pulled him in for a hug, making him stumbled a bit before he regained his footing and hugged his twin closely. She buried her face in his velvet-clad shoulder, breathing in his scent, as tears dripped into the velvet.

“Farewell, sister,” he whispered into her ear. She pulled away and brushed a few tears away, smiling sadly. “Farewell, dear brother,” Willas brought her head towards his lips and kissed her hair. She closed her eyes and enjoyed her brother’s embrace before she pulled away.

“My Lady, it is time to go, the wheelhouse is ready,” (Y/n) took a deep breath before answering her driver. “Thank you, Victor,” The man nodded and stood waiting for her by the door of the wheelhouse her family prepared for her.

(Y/n) took one last look at Highgarden, memorizing the walls, the gardens, the guards and servants, her family, before she sighed and walked down the marble steps to the gravel. Victor lent her his hand and helped her up into the wheelhouse. Once she settled in, Victor closed the door and left her alone in the silence. Soon the wheelhouse started moving and (Y/n) looked out the window of where she sat and waved goodbye at her family. She continued to stare out the window until the wheelhouse road out of the gates of Highgarden and Highgarden itself became small and distant.

She exhaled and sighed before she looked around and smiled. The interior was white with green and gold accents with light blue carpet. A small table sat next to the long cushioned bench that had a fresh vase of flowers from the gardens. (Y/n) sighed and leaned back against the bench, closing her eyes as she sat deep in thought.

This is going to be an endless journey.

Tyrion glared at his father. His mismatched eyes were narrowed dangerously as he watched his Lord father eat his dinner. His fists were clenched and his upper lip twitched with every minute that passed by. His Aunt Genna sat across from Tyrion, and even she was looking nervous with her gaunt skeleton of a husband sitting next to her. His Uncle Gerion could also feel the tension in the room and for once did not try to make jests and kept quiet — something that was so unlike him and his outspoken character.

Finally, Tyrion had enough. He slammed his fist on the table, making the silver jump, drawing everyone’s attention, including his Lord father.

Lord Tywin raised a brow at his son’s outburst and narrowed his own cold green eyes at him.

“What’s the matter now? Need to complain or make another impropriety jest?”

“How could you have not told me? Why was I the last to know?” Tyrion snarled, his voice rising high. “How could you have not asked me if I even wished for a blasted name-day ball?!”

Tywin’s own upper lip twitched as he glared at Tyrion. “You are my son, --” Tyrion scoffed and leaned back in his chair. “And you are the heir to Casterly Rock, whether or not I want you to. It is the law, and so before I hand down my title as Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock I wish to see you married to a High-born Lady who’ll give you the sons you need to pass down the family name. To ensure the legacy of House Lannister.” Tyrion tried to contain his anger and but it was overwhelming him in waves he admired and watched from a distance of the Sunset Sea.

“So you wish to subject me to torture and scrutinizing me by parading me around as if I was my brother Jamie. Do you not see its cruelty??” Genna spoke up, trying to clear the air between father and son.

“Tyrion, my dear, if a woman does not see you for who you are and only your stature as a dwarf, then she is not worthy of your hand or love,” she gave him a comforting smile, but Tyrion ignored it and laughed dryly.

“Oh, you are mistaken, beloved Aunt Genna, for no woman shall ever look upon me and see me without seeing me for who I truly am. A dwarf who’s cursed to be laughed at. A twisted demon monkey. Lord Tywin’s doom!” A humorless smirk spread across his face as Tywin stood up, fury in his eyes.

“If you wish to wallow in your own self-pity, I suggest you do it elsewhere. You are a Lannister--”

“Am I though? Am I truly a Lannister?” Tyrion cut in, his tongue sharp as a blade. Though he could not wield one as his brother Jamie can, Tyrion carried his own blade, his sharp tongue.

Lord Tywin simply stared at him, his calculating eyes studying Tyrion, from his mismatched eyes to his twisted limbs.

“Go,” Tywin nodded his head towards the doors to the Great Hall. “Leave my sight,” Tyrion pushed out from his chair and stormed out of the Hall, leaving his unfinished dinner behind.

He walked through the dim-lit corridors of Casterly Rock, passing paintings and portraits of the previous Lord Lannisters as he made his way to his room. He slammed the door hard once he arrived — throwing his shoes off and tossing his tunic to the floor in anger. He waddled to his bookshelf and pulled a book his Uncle Gerion got for him when he visited Essos.

Instead of focusing on the words before him, all Tyrion could focus on was the anger he felt towards his father, aunt, and mother.

He understood why his sister and father hated him so because, at that moment, he, too, hated himself. From the moment he drew breath in this world, his mother left it giving birth to a creature like him. He wished he could speak to her. Feel her warmth and love a mother always had for their children. He’d never felt in all his life, for not even his wet nurse loved him. Feeding him was a chore, and she did not wish to feed him. She would rather let him starve than have him suckle at her own breasts.

Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he cried. How could his father and aunt be so cruel? For even at ten and six name days, he knew, no woman would want him. The only women he could get were whores. No woman would care for him or love him. No woman would kiss him as if he was her knight or her Florian.

And so, Tyrion mourned the non-existence of love for himself. He wept for his doomed existence and for the ladies who’d have to endure him for a single night of torture. He cried and sobbed at the realization of his painful existence. For no one could ever love him. No one could love a twisted man like him. His sister was right, he was a little beast. And no woman in her right mind would ever love a beast.

[icequeenbae]

Daddy’s Struggles (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Dad!Baek, domestic au, established relationship (duh), a slice of life, fluff, a lil smutty(!)

Warnings: some friskiness between mom and dad if you know what I mean, mentions of teenagers watching porn (I’m not promoting it, you guys lol), also this gets fluffin’ sweet get a bucket in advance

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Baekhyun overhears your teenage daughter watching porn. You have to handle a small crisis.

Event: the BBH day @supermwritersnet​

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s Note: This… came out of nowhere:D I blame my dear beta @baekshoney​​ – we'd once discussed the idea of Baek being a teenager’s parent (in relation to a different story). Don’t we all love dilf Baek though? lol Anyways, this is a tiny glimpse into his future as a cute af father and husband <3 Let’s name him puppydad!Baek 😊 I hope this lifts your mood a little on a day like this!

On that note – happy birthday to our genius idol (aka mochi-cheeked hyperactive puppy), I wish that he stays healthy and happy and on the radar throughout the next 2 years (and forever)!! Don’t be too sad, guys, he’s hopefully going to finally lead a somewhat normal life for a bit 💞 Ok, I’ll let you get to it already~

A yawn.

You rubbed your tired eyes and dictated a reminder for tomorrow morning to your AI assistant. It was pretty late and you had your hands full all day with your kids. And while family time was always great, there hadn’t been a spare moment for you to tend to your own business. But two decades of dealing with your hyperactive yet loveable children (and husband) taught you to make the most out of what you got. So you were doing just that, organizing your errands and sorting important emails after everyone had scurried off to their rooms, and your husband — to the shower.

Baekhyun was quite exhausted himself, so you realized he must’ve gotten in the common bathroom by the time you exited the one in your bedroom. He did that sometimes when you locked the door out of habit. Not that he couldn’t come in, it was just… You used to scold him pretty badly for breaking into the bathroom. Picking locks wasn’t something you wanted your juniors to acquire as a habit. They had enough of their daddy’s traits as it was.

The thought made you chuckle. Your eldest son had already outgrown his father by at least five and a half – gotta be precise here! – centimeters (which made daddy very proud, but also a teeny tiny bit jealous). Despite his height, which, you were sure, was going to break the golden 180cm in the next few months, your boy’s build was exactly the same as Baekhyun’s. His shoulders were broad, his hips wide, and his waist was naturally narrow. Legs long and lean, and eyes always mischievous. He was eighteen and already seemed more like Baekhyun’s best friend rather than his child. Being both the hyung and the oppa of the household, he was the most mature out of the bunch, and always a big help to his parents.

Your middle child, your precious daughter, resembled you a lot. Her wavy hair and her big eyes with the longest eyelashes either of you’d ever witnessed. Seriously, that was the first thing Baekhyun’s friends had commented on when they came by to meet your new baby. ‘Is this even normal? Can she see through those? That’s one pretty baby!’ She was even prettier now, at her sweet sixteen, cheeks still a bit chubby, which – just as her button nose – were definitely an homage to her dad. Not to mention her hands that were even more delicate and exquisite than his.

The youngest, your six-year-old son, was a blessing. You weren’t planning to have more children after the first two until you suddenly thought… why not? Cannot say that you weren’t a little bit under the influence at the time. It was one of those rare weekends when your kids had a sleepover at their grandparents’, so you had the whole house to yourself. Deciding to have a domestic date and enjoy shameless daytime drinking, you indulged in a whole glass of wine before both of you were tipsy and giggling, then you added one more to the mix. At that point, all kinds of crazy things were brought up.

‘We should do this more often…’ You informed your partner. ‘This is exciting! We can walk around naked the way we used to before we had teenagers in the house!’

‘I miss our naked Saturdays…’ Baekhyun whined, almost spilling his wine while trying to sip it gracefully. ‘Now I barely even see you naked with your shower locking obsession!’

Pursing your lips, you dismissed his complaint.

‘After that incident… You cannot blame me for my caution.’

The incident was, well, your son needing to use the bathroom while his sister was taking too long and heading to the one in your bedroom. He nearly walked in on… an adult scene.

‘He didn’t even see anything, Y/N-ah,’ your husband grumbled, but you waved him off, downing your drink as if it was a shot of tequila rather than a glass of wine.

‘I don’t see a problem though,’ he blinked at you, not following. ‘We’re alone. Why not… See each other naked again?’

‘Right. We can also- Y/N-ah!’

‘What?’ You eyed his suddenly enthusiastic form with nothing but suspicion.

‘We can create a distraction!’

‘Hm?’

‘A distraction for them. So that they’d be busy with something else while we’re away.’

‘Hmm?’ You still couldn’t locate the source of his excitement.

‘Lemme show you,’ he slurred, tugging on your wrist to get you up and dragging you to the bedroom.

Let’s have another baby – that was his brilliant idea. Had you both not been such poor drinkers, one of you would’ve thought this through.

Nevertheless, you were glad that you didn’t. Because your little angel, who could sometimes be more of a tiny demon, to be frank, was the single sweetest thing to ever exist on planet Earth. He had his entire family wrapped around his little finger, and you – most of all. How could anyone blame you? That troublemaker was the spitting image of his dad and had a personality to match — just as playful and affectionate.

The chill spring breeze from the window licked at the bare skin of your arm, causing you to shiver slightly, coming back from the land of reminiscing. You stretched on the bed, noticing how protruding your nipples became from the cold even while hidden by the gentle fabric of your nightgown. Pulling the covers up, you grunted under your breath, wondering what was taking Baekhyun so long.

Just as you did, the door cracked open, and your husband sauntered into the room.

‘Ah finally, I thought I needed to go rescue you again,’ you chuckled.

That had happened before. He once used the common bathroom to shower before bed and ended up captured by your daughter, who was around six or seven at the time, in the hallway. She then demanded cuddles, knowing that her father was too weak to turn his precious girl down and send her back to bed. You found them both huddled up asleep on the couch, with your husband’s head tilted dangerously to the side. Terrible sleeping postures always had consequences, so you spared him the agony of the next morning, waking him up mercifully and helping to get your little girl to her bed. This was only one of many occasions – Baekhyun was a softie.

This time, however, he was a bit stupefied.

He didn’t react to your remark and seemed like he was going on autopilot when he came closer and sat on the bed.

You lifted the covers, inviting him to join you, and he followed your lead, still staring at the wall across the room.

‘Yeobo,’ you called, getting slightly alarmed. ‘Are you okay?’

He blinked, the stupor breaking, and looked at you with astounded eyes.

‘I- I think,’ he began, making you shift to face him properly. ‘I think I just overheard our daughter watching porn!’

His voice lowered to a whisper by the end of that sentence.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered back. ‘How do you figure?’

‘I was walking down the hallway, and I thought I heard something from her room. I didn’t fully register what it was, but now that it processed… It was definitely porn!’

The signs of distress on his face almost caused you to break down in a fit of laughter. You held it in with all you got. Fathers and daughters, the eternal struggle.

‘First of all, ew. Aren’t you even a little bit ashamed to be eavesdropping on your kids like that?’ You didn’t let him protest. ‘Also, how do you even know it was porn, you know she sometimes mumbles and whimpers in her sleep. Like someone else we know…’

Giving him a pointed look, you leaned over his chest to turn the lights to the lowest mode, leaving the room dimly lit. It was always effective when you wanted to help him relax.

‘I wasn’t ea- And you think I can’t tell what porn sounds like? There are some generic… sounds. That give it away.’

‘When was the last time you watched it?’ You murmured, eyeing him curiously.

Of all people, you knew best how short his attention span was. Sometimes it could work to your advantage. Like right now, when you needed to de-escalate this before you could reason with him.

‘I- wh- I don’t know, probably when you were pregnant,’ he recalled. ‘The third one was somehow the toughest on me. You looked way too attractive for a heavily pregnant lady, let me tell you.’

‘Heavily pregnant??’ You scoffed, softening right after. ‘Well, you have a point, he was pretty huge. I swear, if he doesn’t grow up to be taller than Chanyeol, I’d be offended. That boy’s giant head prolonged my healing by at least a month.’

Baekhyun sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to that time.

‘He was the only one who caused you to tear, right?’

‘Yeah. Which is weird, considering that he was my third one. Ah well, I guess I’m not getting any younger…’

‘Aren’t you though? I’m constantly being asked about my pretty young wife,’ Baekhyun smiled at you charmingly. ‘And you only became prettier after the third pregnancy. I say it’s the hormones.’

Your cunning little plan was working. He was incredibly easy to distract.

‘Tell me the truth, was it the boobs? Or my butt? I did gain the most weight with the little daredevil, that’s for sure.’

‘It was all of you. You always looked so sexy when pregnant, I just wanted to have you all to myself,’ he cooed at you. ‘To feed you handpicked strawberries. And smother you with kisses. My beautiful young wife.’

At some point during this conversation, you shuffled closer to each other, now cuddled up snugly on the bed. Your finger slowly traced abstract patterns on his chest, happily exploiting the access to his skin where his pajama shirt was unbuttoned.

‘Ah, you’re just saying that to get under my nightgown,’ you batted your eyelashes at him, and he shook his head.

‘Maybe a little, but that’s true. And it’s not surprising that people are noticing – you are younger than me.’

‘A couple of years is nothing at our age,’ you murmured, bending your knee and moving your leg slightly up his to get cozy.

‘Well, you know what people say… Small kids make parents younger. Wanna have another one?’ He nudged you gently and laughed at the dirty look you gave him.

‘Yeobo- please don’t make jokes like this. I’d rather look for other elixirs of youth than go through that entire ordeal again.’

You knew that he was kidding, but the thought made you shiver.

‘I know, honey, I know. Like I said, you’re not in need of any elixirs.’

At this you relaxed, melting into his shoulder, and guiding his arm to wrap around you, warming your exposed shoulders.

‘Well, Mr Byun, same to you. Still as charming as two decades ago.’

‘Hey, I’d like to think that I’m more charming now. The experience and all.’

‘Who helped you gain all that experience though?’ You poked him lightly, and a low chesty laugh escaped his lips.

‘Of course, it was my one and only, my young, and beautiful, and smart and sexy little wife,’ he punctuated each compliment with a chaste kiss to your cheeks, nose, lips, and neck.

You squirmed in his arms.

‘Ah, you make a woman go mad,’ you purred into his lips mockingly.

He snickered softly, ready to lean in, but then stopped abruptly.

‘Wait a second- What about-’

‘Baekhyun…’ You murmured as he fussed on the bed.

‘I should probably go in there, and-’

‘And what? Embarrass your daughter?’ You held him down. ‘She’s sixteen, honey, it’s just the hormones. We’ve both been there. Let her be.’ You nuzzled his neck, pressing your lips to his sensitive skin lazily.

His mind was growing cloudy again since your hand was now caressing his inner thigh foxily. He’d probably realized what you were doing by now, but you were right, so he allowed you to sway him into giving the idea of an immediate intervention up.

‘Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t be nearly as appalled if that was our eldest,’ you scoffed and added in an exaggerated tone. ‘Never took you for a sexist.’

‘But- he’s eighteen, and she- she’s my little girl…’ He mumbled in a small voice, hazed further by your not-so-subtle seduction. ‘I can’t let her- watch that-’

‘Don’t worry, yeobo,’ you whispered soothingly in his ear, slipping your hand into his loose pants. ‘I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Without you. No need to traumatize the poor girl, that’s how daddy issues develop.’

‘You should know,’ he bit back meekly, sighing when you finally wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length.

‘The sass! It’s almost like you still got it, Mr Byun. Care to impress that young wife of yours?’

‘I sure will, you cunning woman,’ he growled playfully, completely giving in to it and attacking your laughing mouth as he lifted the covers over your head.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As usual, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments/ asks, and if you’re new – check out my Masterlist ^^

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Felton - Baby on the Brain

A/N - First request! I hope this is what you wanted, I really like this idea. I don’t know Tom, nor do I claim to, and the other characters are fictional figments. To celebrate 100 followers, I'm uploading this early. Thank you!

Warnings - overloads of fluff, mentions of baby sick, mild language, slight angst, hints to a breeding kink whoops, lightly implied smut.

Summary - Visiting Tom’s brother and his new baby should be a walk in the park, really, but some unwitting truths come to ahead that you can’t refute. You’ve always wanted a family, but does Tom? (Request for Tom Felton: you guys meet his brother's new baby and then decide to have your own.)

Tom’s bruised knuckles rap thrice against the oak wood of his brother's front door, squeezing your smaller, trembling hand in his, running his fingers over the band of the ring in pride of place. Taking a deep breath in sync with yours, he turns his twinkling blue eyes towards you, lending you a twitch of a reassuring smile.

“Why are you so nervous? It’s only my brother,” he says, his voice gruff following the cigarette he smoked in the car.

“It’s the baby I wanna see,” you breathe, “less nervous, more jittery.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone for tea this morning instead of a double shot coffee.”

You nudge his ribs with your elbow, and then his overly sensitive hip bone with yours, coaxing a gentle chuckle from his lips, “Maybe I wouldn’t have needed it if you hadn’t kept me up so late.”

The devilish, shit-eating grin creeping onto his lips tells you that he feels no remorse, but then again, you’d take tiredness and a night like that over anything. His fingers twine tighter around yours as footsteps begin to shuffle behind the door, followed by an ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech, absolutely unholy.

“See he’s having fun with the kid, then?” you begin to whisper, but your words trail off as Tom’s very exhausted looking brother appears in the doorway, feeding bottle in hand, burping rag over his shoulder, deep purple bags beneath his eyes.

“Alright mate?” Tom greets, stepping one loafer-clad foot over the threshold, offering his brother a man hug.

“Tired, yeah. How you doing, man?” he responds warmly, patting Tom’s back.

“I’m good, I’m good, Jon.” Tom says, though you can feel him almost imperceptibly tense beside you.

Turning ever so slightly, all eyes are cast on you. Naturally, you offer Tom’s brother your warmest smile, teeth and all, sympathy welling both in your eyes and your heart. Kids must be tough if he looks like this with a three-week old.

“And who’s this?” Jonathan asks, sweetly, inquisitive more than anything, though he does look at you a bit peculiarly, scrutinising you, perhaps your outfit, the mom jeans you paired with a cropped cardigan perhaps not his style.

“This is my fiancée, Y/N.” Tom says, his words holding an inflection or pride perhaps, but whatever it is, it sends a pang of excitement shooting down your spine, a smirk creeping its way onto your lips, one you have to bite back, “I’m sorry I haven’t bought her over before, but you know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, course. Nice to meet you.”

“And you! Where’s the baby?”

Tom chuckles softly, and he curls his arm around your body, hip to hip. “She loves kids.”

Jonathan stands aside, a welcoming hand to beckon you into his home, the laminate floors covered in baby commodities, pastel blankets strewn everywhere, but other than, surprisingly clean considering Tom mentioned his brother was a hoarder and was always the most untidy of the bunch all throughout their youth. Considering how bad Tom is and how often you’re stuck cleaning away his dirty dishes and putting his laundry on, you were expecting far worse, but maybe Tom was the worst of them all along.

He tickles between your ribs as you wander through the halls, greeted in the back room by a tiny blonde headed baby, cradled in two arms of a just as exhausted looking lady donning a kind smile, stars dancing in her eyes as she stares down at her temporarily placated child. Tufts of blonde hair pair with enamoured hazel eyes to compliment the soft yellow of their clothes and the rosiness of their chubby cheeks. The hair, the nose, the tiny dimples; this baby looks just like Tom - and all his brothers - did when they were little dots themselves. The same little treasures. You, however, were an unattractive baby compared to this ball of sunshine.

“This is Ainsley.” Tom’s sister in law says lazily, her words falling off as she gapes in adoration at the gurgling blob of joy in her embrace. “And I’m Zara.”

“I’m Y/N.” you smile widely.

Should he not know better, Tom would quite possibly think you’re going to either collapse of hyperventilate, judging by the flush of your cheeks, your elevated pulse, heart beating out of your chest, the tiny, delightful, desperate whimpering noises from the back of your throat, elicited from a single glance into the babies eyes.

Said baby begins to make some indistinguishable noises and flails its arms around faintly, feebly, in your general direction. You’d be lying if your heart didn’t do a somersault in your chest.

“M- may I hold Ainsley?” you stammer out, extending your covered arms in a similar cradle to that of Ainsley’s mother.

“God, you’d be doing me a right favour,” she retorts, her accent broad, Geordie.

She shuffles softly down the pale green sofa, so perfectly complimenting the oak floors, to make a room for you that you take gratefully, and position yourself astutely against the back of the sofa. Before retrieving the baby, though, Tom grasps for a muslin cloth and affectionately drapes it over you, affectionate in the manner that he does it with such care, grazing his thumbs over your collarbones as he goes, ever so gently, barely even a touch, but enough to let you know he’s there. He holds your gaze for a moment, his lips twitching into a smile. This alone sends butterflies to your stomach and sets a sheen of fog about your head, taking you even more by surprise when the baby is laid in your arms, writhing and smiling and blinking so sweetly.

“Hiya darling,” you coo, “aren’t you just the most precious thing.”

“Gender neutral name and clothing...” Tom interjects, sidling up on the arm of the sofa beside you, “may I ask their sex and the pronouns you’re using?”

“Male, but we’re trying to be as gender neutral as possible so they can grow up not feeling pressured.”

You can’t wipe the beam from your face, or prevent the small ‘awwh!’ from escaping under your breath, curling the cloth slightly around the child, “That’s a wonderful attitude. Tommy, would you fetch my bag from the car, please?”

In a second, he’s bouncing up, his hand thrust deep in his chinos to fish for the car key. “You asked me to grab it before we got out as well, sorry sweetheart. Back in a minute.” With a nod to his brother, he’s racing out the door, his footsteps thundering through the house. Your attention, however, remains glued to the baby.

“Would you like me to set them down for tummy time afterwards, or is he going back to sleep?” You ponder aloud, eyes glued to the wry tufts of hair so soft and silky between your fingers.

“If he falls asleep in your arms, that’s fab. We’re just livin’ minute by minute.”

You release a small laugh, “Fair enough.”

Jon sits beside you tentatively, between yourself and his wife, his arm wrapping around her as she leans her body weight against him, her hair--held in a bun before, now just kind of flopping into her eyeline--tickling her shoulder and causing him to wince a little.

“How do you know so much about babies?”

The sigh you don’t mean to release is wistful at best, plain pining at worst--and probably most obvious. “I’ve always wanted them, kids, but Tommy’s the first guy I’ve settled down with, but despite being engaged, we’re still taking things slowly.”-- You shrug, as best as you can with the baby in hold, and cock your head to the side to peer down better at every tiny freckle on Ainsley’s skin.--“I love him to bits, but he wants to wait, and I’m still young, a good chunk younger than he is.”

“If it helps,” he starts, “I’ve never seen Tom as in love with someone as he is you. He’s besotted. You say the word, he’ll do it.”

“I know. I just don’t want to make him do anything unless he’s 100% sure.”

“And that’s what makes you his perfect girl.”

Your heart swells. There’s a beat, a pause of silence, filled only with the zapping of the car outside, no more than a couple of seconds before Jon’s wife speaks again.

“Enough of that. Show us the ring!”

If they’re all this excitable at something as simple as your engagement ring, perhaps you’ll fit in with his family better than you anticipated. ** Certainly, if their amiable gasps are anything to go by as you display your hand to them, your ring finger held out, supporting Ainsley’s head in the crook of your elbow as they gawk at the diamond glistening in the sunlight streaming in from their floor-to-ceiling patio doors. You have to admit it’s a pretty damn beautiful ring, the one you always dreamed of. An oval cut 0.5ct diamond held in place by a delicate split-shank 18ct gold band. It glows ethereally in whatever light there is, but most spectacularly in Tom’s eyes.

“It’s the most gorgeous ring,” she gushes, “apart from mine.”

A smile creeps its way in. You’re not entirely sure what the hell you’ve done right in your life to deserve this incredible, expensive ring, or even Tom for that reason. This is the life you’ve always dreamed of, the one that Tom’s brother has, and if you’re even half as happy as they are after being married for 5 years then you’ll consider your life to be a great success. You always wanted the quiet family life in the suburbs, with a lovely house and a nice garden and a couple of kids, working a part time job that pays well and allows you time for your children and your husband… then you fell in love with him. Loving Tom, though, that’s the true gift in your life, and you’d take him over that life any day. He’s the best, truly.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, since Tom comes puffing into the room, his heavy footsteps coming to a halt in the doorway as he hands over your abnormally large handbag.

“Here,” he gasps, but turns his gaze upon your hand, witnessing their marvelling at the rock he put there, “it is a pretty boss ring, isn’t it? Worth every penny.”

He bends down to ghost a kiss over your lips, his slightly long dark-blonde hair tickling your cheeks, smiling warmly down at you before deciding to sidle up next to you in the small gap between you and the arm of the sofa. However, half way down, his hip bones are digging in, and he winces up like he’s just been shocked. You know how sensitive his hip bones are, a fat you use against him incredibly often for all the best reasons, but today, he’s been so good, and you shan’t make him sit uncomfortably.

Keeping your hold on Ainsley--who’s almost asleep already, quieter than he was before with only faint gurgles escaping, their eyes droopy--steady, you begin to stand, and shuffle yourself up a bit, allowing Tom to take your previous seat, before placing yourself back down with as little ‘umph’ as you can manage, hooking your thigh over tom’s in the process. He knows what to do, it’s always been your calling card at home or at a party: as soon as you sling your leg over his, he pulls you into his lap eerie time, and today is no different. Well, perhaps it is, as he furrows his dark eyebrows inquisitively, gazing adoringly at you and the child in your arms, waiting for your nod okay before he hitches his arms around your waist and tugs you, as gently as he possibly can with his delicate grip, into his lap, giving you both ample space.

“Babe,” you whisper, “can you fetch the gift out of my bag?”

He’s instantly ferreting around until he finds the presents you neatly wrapped in polka dot paper, and hands them to Jonathan. Eagerly, they're unwrapped, and it seems that your many arguments over what to get Tom’s niece or nephew were worth it, considering the fact their eyes begin to brim with tears.

A soft grey elephant plush, holding a yellow heart, embellished with ‘Ainsley Felton, love Uncle Tom’, and a Peter Rabbit china crockery set for when they’re older.

“Thank you,” Zara exclaims, the way only a mother can, in gracious relief, “they’re adorable, so perfect.”

And before you know it, both you and Tom are being embraced wholeheartedly, as though you’re already their family. It’s been a life since anyone besides Tom hugged you, but this, this is nice.

“Well, lunch?”

Said lunch is a tumultuous affair, with a delivery pizza being ordered from the local dominoes, but with Ainsley so comfortable and calm in your arms, it was an elected decision not to move him, and instead, Tom fed you your pizza. It isn’t the first time, his love language seems to be feeding you things, but normally it's strawberries or chocolate truffles. Never before have you covered an entire medium pizza being fed to you while trying to avoid dropping any toppings or tomato sauce onto a peaceful baby, but that is just an indicator for the rest of the afternoon, Tom’s hands or eyes never once leaving you.

Completely accidentally, Jonathan and his wife drift off to sleep. You smile sadly at the sight, unable to blame them, they must be knackered, the problem simply lies in the fact that Ainsley begins to stir just as they drift off.

“See if there’s any milk in the fridge, please, I think they’re using formula.” you hiss to Tom, standing up cautiously.

Aghast, he grapples for words, “I-I’m sorry, what?!”

“Forget it,” you sigh, “take the baby and change him, please.”

“Change him?!” Again, that same tone of staggered surprise. “I don’t know how!”

“You have four nieces and nephews already, yes you do. He’s going to start screaming in a minute and wake your very tired, very groggy brother. Change the baby.”

When your eyes begin to thin, nostrils flaring, eyebrows raising, he knows not to mess with you, so he swallows thickly, his throat bobbing up and down, and scoops a crying Ainsley from your arms. As he treads upstairs, you find your way back into the kitchen, and find on the counter the bottles done with their sterilisation. This is okay, this is great, you know how to do this, and years of babysitting taught you exactly how to do this. It’s almost like that scene from Outnumbered, assembling the bottle with your eyes closed, muscle memory taking over from your brain. When your eyes flutter open, you almost let out a little squeal at your achievement. If only you could learn this all over again, have this life with a little child of your own, with Tom being as good a dad as he’s acting right now. When you handed him the baby, though, you couldn’t help but notice the fear that flashed over his face, paling him a shade, his pupils dilating to erase the blue. You wish he wasn’t so scared…

A few minutes later, with the kettle boiled and the formula made, you appear in the front room where Tom is swaddling Ainsley, holding the bean against his beating heart, making only the very slightest movements to entertain them.

“Give him a bit of tummy time while the milk cools, do you want to feed him?” you offer, stepping over the threshold .

“N-no,” he exhales slowly, “I think you’d best do that. Can I just put them down?”

“I’ll grab the mat from the corner”--you spied it as you walked in, a colourful crinkle mat rolled up and tucked away from view against the cream walls, behind the flat-screen on its grand stand--“and then yeah.”

Even as he puts Ainsley down, stomach first, onto the playmat, he looks petrified. Taking a seat on the floor to watch over them, you tug on Tom’s tan trouser leg. Indecisiveness gnaws at him, tugging him away from you, but he concedes to your widened puppy eyes, and tumbles onto the shag pile rug next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders like its second nature.

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, course. You?”

“Yeah.”

You let your head fall to his arm, a blissful smile creeping its way onto your lips when Ainsley looks you dead in the eye, hazel orbs twinkling, full of hope.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he hums, “I love you too.”

“Then why are you being so… prickly with me today?”

He shifts away from you the most miniscule amount, “I’m not.”

“We’ve been together for years, Tom. I know when you’re bloody lying.” you lower your voice for the final words, “now tell me why you’re being such a pouty puss.”

You mimic his frown, knowing full well that he hates it when you do so. He hates seeing you sad, even if it's just pretend, so makes a swooping move to kiss the frown away.

“Would you leave me if I said I didn’t want kids?” his voice breaks on the final word, little more than a whisper, but his next move is so animated that it almost startles you with the bottle in hand. “I mean, you know I want them. I love kids, I want us to have a family, but…”

“Nothing would ever make me leave you, Tom. You couldn’t do anything that’d cause me to fall out of love with you.”

The pain in your statement sends a shock through you, singing your heart, poisoning your mind, sending a sour bile running up your throat. No matter how many daggers shoot at your heart, it remains to be true. You’d do anything for him. If, tomorrow, he turned around and said he wanted the two of you to stay together but never marry and never have children, you wouldn’t back down without a fight, but you’d accept it. Despite all your lifelong hopes, nothing trumps Tom.

“I’m gonna feed Ainsley now.”

Picking the baby up from the rug, you put a bib around his neck, and throw another cloth around you, taking a seat in the corner chair to feed him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” he says, and walks out, shoulders slumped.

You watch him wistfully as he leaves the room, and even when he returns--refusing to look at you--your gaze is still trained on his every move, slumping into the shag pile rug to watch the TV on a low volume. You can feel his eyes on you, that burning pair of eyes that follow you everywhere, your every movement, his ears honed, trained to your every shift and whisper. The second you turn upon him though, he’s looking away.

“I’ll put Ainsley down now,” you announce after burping him, “we need to leave soon if we want to make it home before dark.”

He doesn’t even bat an eye as you sashay past him, Ainsley’s cries muffled by a dummy, but the second he hears your footsteps heading back downstairs, his own begin to thunder, pounding against the stairs to meet you halfway.

“Wait,” he whispers, “come on, sit down, talk to me. I love you.”

A sigh heaves your chest, “I love you too. Talk about what?”

“You’re being arsey with me.”

“Because you said you don’t want kids!”

“Well I didn’t mean it, I’m just”--he pinches the bridge of his nose, and ushers you up on the stairs, your calves hitting the carpet--“there’s a lot to think about. We just met the kid, and I saw how your face lit up when you held him.”

“You know I want kids, Tom.”

“I know, but can we not talk about kids for a second? I want to talk about you. You’re my fiancée, I want to make you my wife. I’m just scared.”

“What of? You have nothing to be scared of. I’ll be here no matter what.”

“That’s why I’m scared!” he exasperates, flailing his arms about, “I don’t want you to senselessly follow me and love me if I can’t give you what you want. I’m scared of fucking this up, fucking you up. I’m scared of this going wrong, with children or marriage or saying something wrong, because I can’t lose you.”

“Tom,” you murmur.

Your hand flies up to cup his jaw, grazing your thumb over the stubble growing there, the faintest shadow.

“I love you. I- I need you. Y/N, sweetheart, please. I just wanna stay how we are, just stay this way for a bit, slow down because the world is moving too fast, and I’m gonna fall, but I can’t drag you down with me.” he croaks, cradling your neck with trembling, callused hands. “Can we stay how we are? Just us? Just you and me?”

“Babe you aren’t gonna lose me. Everything else off the table, we’ve got this, we’ve got us. We can stop the world and get off if that's what you want. Nothing is immediate, everything can wait.” you promise, your eyes boring into his.

All at once, his lips come crashing down onto yours, swallowing any inhibitions with his lavishing tongue, his hot breath slanting and fanning over your lips, leaving innocent adoration in their wake. Until a piercing scream resounds.

“Except maybe that.”

You duck from his grip skilfully, and slip into Ainsley’s room, two fingers reaching out to tickle their stomach, causing the scream to hiccup in their throat momentarily. Then, as if wondering what to do next, he just stares up at you imploringly, questioningly.

“Come on Ainsley, I just set you down to sleep. Be good and let mummy and daddy sleep too, okay?” you coo, tucking his blanket back up to his neck, slipping his cuddly toy closer, “go back to sleep.”

This child is already one with an attitude, you can tell that by the vehemence with which he yells out. You don’t even have to think twice before you’re stooping into the cot, swathing him in blankets, and lifting him to your bosom, where his screams fall to mere gurgles.

“Do you think he’s sleeping in the bed with them?” you ask Tom, keeping your voice at a steady whisper even with the slight bounces you’re offering the baby, “because I think that causes parental problems above all else because they’re being kicked in the back all night. Still, decreases the risk of SIDS. Why do they have a cot up if they are? He can’t sleep without contact…”

You don’t even realise you’re thinking aloud until Tom presses his thumbs into your shoulders, buckling your whole body. It’s the instant tension reliever, truly, and your shoulders do seem tighter today, perhaps from all the baby wrangling.

“Lets just sit, shall we?”

You do, taking up refuge in the front room once again, with an extra blanket of his, as well as a supply of cuddly toys, rattles, and dummies. Tom watches you with fascination for the rest of the afternoon, everything you do drawing his full attention; enticing, entrapping. His heart swells at the sight of you bouncing Ainsley around to make him laugh, cooing and giggling with him to coax a smile back after a wail that you hushed down, holding him so closely as he sleeps. He’s finally seeing it, after all these years, you, in your true home habitat, caring for a child, so kindly, so motherly, so naturally. Everything you do instantly seems to set the infant at ease. He knows it should be him, Ainsley is his nephew, but… you’re just better.

In fact, before he even realises it, he’s craving what he doesn’t have. Not that he can’t have it -- you’ve been together for a long time, you’ve discussed a future with children more times than he can count, and of course he wants it. Tom, he’s always wanted to be a dad, to read his kids books and sing them lullabies and show them what daddy did for work… but it's always been a pipe dream. Your wishes of a family have never come to fruition, and all because of his selfish fears.

The world can’t stop turning just because he’s getting cold feet and wants to climb off for a minute to catch his breath. That’s not how life works. If you want something, you’ve gotta grab it by the balls, because the opportunity will be gone before you know it. And with Tom? He won’t lose you because he won’t take a chance to make you happy and give you what you want. If anything, seeing the crestfallen look that settles between your brows when you actually have to give Ainsley back to their parents just further instils and confirms the idea in his head. There’s his future, in his mind's eye, as clear as day. This is what he needs to do, but better still, this is what he wants.

The drive back to your home is spent in relative silence, and a pensive one at that. You know like instinct that Tom is replaying your final conversation with Jonathan and his wife the same way you are. After all, the simple words did put a dampener on your reconciliation. Your hand is on the gearstick the whole way, though, your fingers entwined with his, the simple contact enough for you. You were right at lunch: all day it's been his hands or his eyes on you: you like it when it's both simultaneously, the way it was when you said your goodbyes.

Tom’s hands settled on your hips, his chin atop your head, and you just fell into his enveloping warmth, smiling lazily at the couple you rescued for the afternoon.

“Thanks so much, we owe you one.” Jonathan said, giving Tom another one of those manly hugs as you stand in the dusk-darkened wooden porch.

“Really,” Zara chimed in, her feet shuffling on the tiled floor as she held her husband's hand, “you’re welcome to have him any time. That is, of course, if you don’t have a little one of your own by the time you’ve recovered from that blighter.”

You forced a dry chuckle at her words, an awkward sound, but you seemed to recover well enough, “Well Ainsley’s been a pleasure, and I’m glad we could give you some respite. Take care.”

“And you. Drive safe.”

“We will,” Tom said, offering them a smile, flashing his keys, keeping his grip on you resolute, “thanks for having us.”

Their words still loom over you like a dark cloud. It was a throwaway comment, one they’d have thought nothing of, and most people, and even you on a good day, but you’d had that… spat earlier on that changed everything. Dredging it up would just put an even further dampener on your mood, though, and with a drive home in the semi-darkness already hanging over you like a massive impending storm cloud of fear, that’s definitely not ideal.

“Nice baby, Ainsley,” Tom mentions, turning his indicator on to pull off the dual carriageway.

“Yeah, and he’s cute.”

“Nice eyes.”

And a couple more comments like those are the only conversation you share as the journey goes by, but soon enough, you’re on the home stretch, and your street rolls into view. With your head comfortably rolled back against the headrest, your eyes shut from a tiring day of exertion and childminding , you don’t notice Tom stepping out the car and unravelling his grip from you. Only does it become apparent when he opens your door and unclips your seat belt, kissing your lips tenderly, the chapped skin arising you from whatever zoned out, thoughtful state you were in before.

“Come on, let's get you inside sweetheart.” he murmurs, taking your hands in his as he helps you out the car, His chivalry never fails to astound you--he even carries your bag.

“Thanks darlin’.”

You follow him inside, kicking off your shoes routinely, shrugging off your coat to hang on the peg with your name etched above it. What happens next, though, is what shocks you the most: this isn’t part of your normal ‘returning home’ routine, not if you’ve had a day as tiring as this one. You’re neither complaining nor disappointed, though. How can you be when Tom’s lips latch onto your pulse point and he has you writhing in seconds, only his arm around the small of your back there to support you.

In one fell swoop, he has you spun around and pinned to the wall, his figure with lust-blown eyes hovering above you, every line in his face so loving, even the subtle part of his lips. They only do that when he’s so desperate to kiss you he can barely breathe, when he’s so eager to confess his love again and again that all other words are inconsequential. This is your Tom.

“Let’s try for a baby.” he says, completely resolutely, no trace of hesitation anywhere in his perfectly, delectably gruff tone. “I want one, I want us, and I don’t wanna wait to build a family with you.”

You can feel tears begin to form in the corners of your shock-widened eyes. This… this is- What changed his mind? Just hours ago, he was hell bent against the idea, but now? His cheeks are glowing at the mere prospect. Courtesy and patience be damned, that is if you can get the words out with how choked up you are…

“Really? Y-you mean it?”

His faint smile widens into a full blown grin, one that confirms everything for you. This is it, this is the Tom you agreed to marry, the happy Tom, the smiley Tom, the one who can barely contain his excitement even as he nods, a stray lock of dark blonde hair falling into his eyes as he does so.

Reasonably, you can’t be expected to hold back, and when his hair gets long enough that it falls into his eyeline? That’s your main weakness, so who can blame you when you catapult yourself up onto him, your legs joining around his wait, your arms settling around his neck. He holds you right back, catches you like he was already waiting, and pins you against the wall again. Perhaps the serotonin is too much as you both grin into a searing kiss, the every press of his lips against yours holding more passion than you can fathom a cohesive thought about. He’s… incredible.

And besides, with this enthusiasm, his kiss alone leaving you gasping and clutching onto his hair for some kind of grounding, perhaps it’ll be the first time lucky…

[avintagekiss24]

CALIFORNIA KING || CHUBBY!BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Chubby!Sheriff!Bucky Barnes x black!reader || word count: 6,429 || warnings: smut, sex, vaginal fingering, hand job, bad language words

authors note: here we are! chubs is finally here! we’re set back in Virginia in the 60s in this one, but we’re not acknowledging the bullshit of the time period. i write to get away from real world issues, and i like the clothes in this decade. you will also notice a few characters from a certain show called Lovecraft Country, because, well, I like them a lot too. please enjoy.

line divider by, you guessed it, @firefly-graphics​ (they’re all so pretty)

Virginia, 1964

Your heels click along the pavement as you move towards the small diner in the middle of town. The sun is high and hot, the beams beating down on your bare shoulders as you adjust your yellow rimmed sunglasses over your face. Your white purse swings off the tips of your fingers, your bracelet, a present from Bucky, clinking softly against your watch, (another present from Bucky), as you move with confidence.

Your sister Ruby moves quietly behind you, her eyes out in front, scanning the sidewalk and street as the two of you go, “You shouldn’t come out dressed like that.” She huffs in your direction as she catches the eye of two older white women moving in your direction.

You turn your head towards her and then glance at the women walking past you, their eyes dropping down to your slightly exposed midriff, then your high waisted, navy blue shorts. You push your sunglasses down your nose and maintain eye contact with them as the two women move by.

“I’m not worried about these small town hicks.” You answer loudly, turning around to walk backward so you can keep your eyes on them, “I am free to dress how I please, thank you.”

Ruby shakes her head as she laughs sarcastically, “You never did know how to act.”

“It is 1964. They just need to get the fuck over it - we are here. This is just as much our town as it is theirs.” You spit, tossing your short hair slightly, “Plus, not everybody here is like them.”

Ruby closes her eyes and holds up her hands, completely uninterested in what you’re about to say, “You are playing with fire with that sheriff,” she hisses quietly, “And I don’t want to hear about it.”

You shrug defiantly, “Fine, then don’t. Let’s just get our rootbeer floats and not argue for once, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.” You seethe, flicking your wrist towards her, ending the quick squabble. You grab the door handle and pull open the door to the diner, stepping to the side to allow your sister to pass, “After you.”

Ruby cuts her eyes towards you and smirks unenthusiastically before she crosses through the threshold. You roll your eyes and follow in behind her, removing your sunglasses and shoving them in your purse as you follow her to the front counter. The two of you sit side by side, Ruby smoothing her hands over her green, pleated swing dress, you waving down the young waiter.

“Afternoon ladies, it’s a hot one, huh?” he asks nicely, smiling at the two of you as he slides menus in your direction.

“It is, thank you,” you start, glancing over the menu, “I think I’m going to have a burger and fries, with a rootbeer float.”

“Great choice, and you, Ruby?”

She smiles, handing her menu back to him, “An olive loaf sandwich please. Potato chips, and a rootbeer float as well.”

“I’ll have it right up ladies.”

He disappears into the back and you and Ruby fall into your usual rhythm, practically ignoring each other. The front door chimes as a group of women move inside, their giggles filling the relatively quiet diner. You eye them as they move by, catching the glance of one Dottie Bodecker, your arch nemesis since grade school. Her blonde hair swings back and forth behind her head as she smiles at you, wiggling her manicured fingers as her group moves to the end of the long bar, taking up four seats.

“So Dottie,” you hear one of the brunettes start, “Do you think tonight’s the night? You think Sheriff Barnes is going to ask you to go with him to his re-election fundraiser?”

You flick your eyes towards them, drawing in a deep breath at the sound of his name. Dottie turns her head towards you, her blue eyes linking with yours where she smiles quickly before turning back to her friends, “I think so.” She answers cheerfully, another giggle escaping her lips, “We have been getting so close lately. I really think he’s gonna ask me to start going steady.”

You scoff loudly before laughter falls from your lips. Ruby hits your leg underneath the counter as you pull out a cigarette and place it between your lips, lighting it. You feel their eyes on you as you flick the butt of the cigarette, ridding it of the ash that’s built up and take another slow drag. You keep your eyes forward, not wanting to engage because you know if you engage -

“Here we go ladies,” the waiter says, cutting through your thoughts, “A burger and fries, an olive loaf with potato chips, and two rootbeer floats. Enjoy.”

Heat blooms across your skin as anger starts to brim just below the surface. You and Dottie have had the same common goal for almost six months - Sheriff James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. The anger in you makes you start to wonder why the two of you are warring over him in the first place. He’s ten years older than the both of you, has a nasty divorce behind him, and by the sight of his tummy, he’s enjoyed one too many slices of Ambrosia cake. To you and Dottie though, he might as well be Marlon Brando.

It’s the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles. The way his nose scrunches when he smiles really big. It’s the softness in his voice when he says your name. The shyness that controls him whenever he’s come to bring you a flower. It’s the way he’s a dreamer - how he promises you a little house out in the middle of nowhere, complete with a white picket fence and a golden retriever. A couple of kids. A big old bed where he promises to always keep you pleased.

He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen - the softest and the sweetest too.

“Just relax and eat your food.” Ruby whispers, squeezing your knee, “She’s just trying to get your goat.”

You flick the butt of your cigarette again, “Well, she fucking got it.” You sigh, grabbing a french fry and biting it angrily.

Dottie continues to gab to her friends loudly, Bucky and I this, Bucky and I that - deep down you know it’s bullshit. He spends too much time sniffing around you to give her the type of attention she’s trying to convince her friends of, but it still gets under your skin. You eat slowly, your lips pursed, your eyes staring a hole into the wall in front of you, your hearing absolutely piqued.

“Did I tell you he drove me home from work the other day?” Dottie says, running her hand over her ponytail as her lips curl into another smile behind her red painted lips, “He even stayed for dinner.”

“Well, your meatloaf is to die for, Dottie. He would have been crazy not to stay!”

You cut your eyes over towards them again just as Dottie leans into her friends, glancing around to see if anyone is listening (as if she honestly cares), “Did I also mention that he stayed the night?”

You slam your balled fist onto the counter, rattling the plates and cups and silverware that sit on the bar. All four heads of Dottie’s group snap towards you, Ruby’s eyes going wide as her mouth drops open.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Dottie asks sweetly, venom dripping from every word.

You lift your hand and plaster a fake smile on your face, scrunching your nose as you shrug, “I’m quite alright, Dottie. Just um, dropped my fork is all.”

“Oh,” she laughs a little, placing her gloved hand to her chest, “That must be a heavy fork.”

“Not as heavy as my fist will be against your -”

“We’re fine,” Ruby cuts in, a bright smile on her face as she nods towards Dottie, “Thank you for askin’, Dottie.”

Dottie smiles again as she tips her head towards Ruby, “You are very welcome, Miss Ruby.”

“Fake ass bitch.” You growl under your breath, prompting a hard pinch on your thigh,”Ow!”

“Just,” Ruby starts, widening her eyes at you, “Eat. Your. Food.”

You take another angry bite of your french fry and cut your eyes towards the glass door, staring out onto the street as you flick your cigarette again. Sheriff James Buchanan Barnes has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

-----

You sway your hips back and forth as your hair falls into your face. The music is loud, thumping even, as Ruby and her band plays up on the stage. An arm is thrown around your waist, pulling your closer as the two of you dance - chest to back, hips tucked into your behind. You laugh as you throw your arm around his neck and dip down low, a wider smile breaking onto your face as he moves with you.

The two of you push back up where you spin around to face him, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up on your thighs as you continue to shake your hips. You throw the material of your expensive, new dress, and then swish it around, before you drop it to raise your hands in the air and spin back around.

That’s when you see them.

Those eyes.

Those deep set, deep blue orbs that always seem to find you when in the middle of a crowd. His lips are set in a hard line, his cheeks red, his jaw tight. He sucks his teeth as he leans his elbow on the bar. He blinks, slowly, cutting his eyes towards the bartender just long enough to grab the shot that’s handed to him before they are back on you, watching you grind against the stranger behind you.

Too damn bad for him.

You grab the man’s hand and pull it tighter around your waist, keeping your smaller hand on top of his as you dip slowly down to the floor again - your eyes never leaving the sheriff’s. You break the eye contact with him to glance over your shoulder as a devilish smile curls onto your painted lips as the two of you dance, your lips dangerously close to his. You push your behind into his hips and laugh when the man hoots and hollers before clapping his hands to the beat of the music.

You flick your eyes back to the sheriff’s just as he downs the brown liquid in the small glass in his hands and slams it on the counter, immediately asking for another. You smirk and wink at him before you turn in the man’s hands that are currently around your waist and away from the hard, angry eyes bearing into you.

“Boo!”

You spin to the side when a finger presses into your side and shriek when you come face to face with your little sister, “Leti!” You shout, wrapping your arms around her neck and swaying her back and forth, “I thought y’all said you wouldn’t be back from Chicago until next week! Tic! Come here!”

You release her to throw your arms around Leti’s boyfriend, Atticus Freeman’s neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to hug him tightly as he chuckles in your ear, “We just decided to cut it short, that’s all.” He answers.

“Yeah, right,” you smile, slapping him gently on his shoulder, “You two got into some trouble up there, didn’t you?”

“Never!” Leti exclaims as she smiles mischievously, holding up her hand, “And that’s scouts honor. Listen,” she says, glancing over her shoulder back towards the bar, “I’ve heard from a few people already. They’re saying that the sheriff is asking about you at the bar.”

“Well,” You wave her off, “You can tell them to tell him to mind his goddamn business.”

“Girl, you’ve got that man seething over there!” Tic laughs, “Askin’ how you know this fool,” he says, pointing towards your dancing partner, “What his name is, when he got into town, how long you been here tonight…”

You shrug defiantly, batting your eyes at the pair of people in front of you, “Not my problem.”

“You’ve got your nerve!” Leti laughs, “Who in their right mind antagonizes the goddamn sheriff?”

“The very same one who dates the goddamn sheriff.” Tic says, shaking his head, “Y’all’s mama gave y’all balls of steel.”

Leti rolls her eyes but smiles widely, grabbing your wrists and pulling you deeper into the mass of people. The three of you dance the hours away as Ruby keeps the small club rocking. You’re covered in a thin sheen of sweat, out of cigarettes, and slightly tipsy when Tic wants to get you and Leti home, so you relent without a fight.

You push out into the night air, the breeze instantly cooling your balmy skin. You giggle as Leti mumbles in your ear and take a few steps into the alley before you stop dead in your tracks. Sheriff Bucky leans against the brick building, his head turned towards the street but snapping back to you when he hears your familiar laughter. He pushes away from the wall and places his hands on his hips and utility belt where he taps his nervous, angry fingers.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, pushing it out of his nostrils harshly as he turns his head towards the building again, trying and failing to maintain a calm demeanor, “Tic, I wasn’t um, I wasn’t aware you were back in town. Welcome home, soldier.”

Tic shifts his eyes to you before he nods towards Bucky and takes his extended hand, “Thank you sheriff, that’s uh, that’s mighty kind of you.”

“You’re a brave man, fighting for this country. You let me know if anybody gives you any trouble, you hear? Ms. Lewis, how are you this evening?”

“Mighty fine, sheriff. Thanks for askin’.” Leti answers, offering him a soft smile. She knows what it’s like to be on the ass end of one of your fits.

You stare at him as he nods slowly, clearing his throat again before he shifts his eyes back to you. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head as you blink at him slowly and let out a hard breath. He drops his eyes down your body, then snaps them back up to yours, his lip slightly snarled the entire time.

He points at you quickly, before he drops his hand back to his belt and glances back at the building, “May I speak to you, please?” he asks, clearing his throat again.

“What for?”

He chuckles lightly, widening his eyes as he drops them to your feet, “You know what for.” he snaps, still tapping his fingers against his hips, “Please.”

You glance at Leti and Tic, whose eyes have settled on you after the quick tennis match between you and Bucky. You sigh again, “I’ll meet you guys at home, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Leti whispers, pushing up closer to you, “He looks mad.”

You roll your eyes, “I can handle him. I’ll be fine.”

Leti grabs Tic’s hand and moves past Bucky, “Have a good night, sheriff.”

“You as well, Ms. Lewis.” He glances over his shoulder as Tic and Leti move down the alley, and only turns back to face you once they’ve turned the corner, “You stood me up.” He spits angrily, pointing at you again.

You shrug, indifference written on your face, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean!” he hisses, taking a few steps towards you, “Damn it, I waited forty five minutes for you.”

“You get out of my face.” you scoff, pushing his shoulders roughly.

“So I spend all day worrying about you, only to find you here with some jerk’s hands all over you!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “Spent all day worrying about me, did you? That’s rich.”

“Okay,” he barks, nodding quickly as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “What is it? Huh? What did I do now?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t know! Please! Enlighten me.”

You cross your arms over your chest again, staring down the alley. You feel his eyes staring into the side of your face, waiting for you to speak.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Why don’t you ask Dottie Bodecker what you did wrong?” you hiss, snapping your head back to face him.

His face contorts in confusion, his shoulders slumping slightly, “Dottie Bodecker? The fuck she have to do with anything?”

“Her meatloaf is to die for, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up dramatically, turning and taking a few steps away from you. He spins back around seconds later, shaking his head, “If you don’t start saying what you mean, girl!”

“You slept with Dottie Bodecker a few nights back and I’m done letting you make a fool a’ me!” you scream as your eyes squint hard.

You brush past him, bumping his shoulder as you start down the alley, walking fast as you huff, the anger bubbling. You hear his heavy feet behind you, his keys jingling as he wraps his fingers around your bicep. You shrug away from him and whirl around, pointing your thin finger in his face, “Don’t you touch me.”

“I did not sleep with Dottie Bodecker!” He hisses, “Where are you getting that load of shit from?”

“From Dottie herself. She told the entire diner this afternoon!”

“Well she’s full of it!” He shouts back, “I didn’t touch that woman!”

“But you drove her home from work?” You ask, antagonizing him, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips again, “Yes. I drove her home. She flagged me down -” You start walking again, completely uninterested in hearing his sorry ass story, “Goddamn it. Listen to me!” He shouts, grabbing your arm again, “I did not touch that woman. I have never touched her. I promise you.”

“And why should I believe you? Huh?” You ask, breathing hard, your eyes wide and bouncing between his, “Tell me!”

“Because I love you!” He shouts loudly - so loudly that it makes you slam your mouth shut, “Goddamn it!”

You watch as he starts to pace, dragging his hand through his short, dark hair angrily before he drops it to his side. Because I love you! The words bounce around your brain as he places his hands back on his hips.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That’s the first time he’s said it.

He loves you.

“You know what?” he says after a moment, turning back to face you again, “You want to continue to play games with Dottie, you go right ahead, but you leave me out of it. I have been nothing but good to you, nothing but open, nothing but doting… I’m done, you hear me? Done. Keep playin’ your little goddamn games!”

You click your tongue and roll your eyes again as he walks off, tugging at the leather jacket covering his torso. He can barely zip the damn thing. You sigh and tilt your head as he turns around the front of the building as embarrassment starts to flood through you. Your skin heats up again, but this time from the feeling of turning out to be the asshole, which doesn't happen very often (it probably should.)

The sound of your heels clicking against the concrete bounces off the buildings as you move to the end of the alley, peaking around the corner to find his police car still sitting at the curb. You spot his head resting back on the seat and put your hands behind your back as you walk slowly towards the passenger side. You lean over and glance in the window, finding his eyes closed and his hands on the wheel as he breathes in and out, in and out, in and out.

You glance up and down the street before you knock on the window, “Can I get in?”

“No.”

You click your tongue and let your shoulders slump, “Come on, sheriff.”

You watch as he exhales hard and you have to drop your head so that he can’t see the smile that forms on your lips. He reaches over and pops open the door before he straightens up in the seat, keeping his eyes forward as you slide in next to him. You chew on your lip as you blink over at him, your eyes trailing down his bicep and forearm before you start playing with your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, your voice small and slightly playful.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He answers quick, holding up his hand.

You laugh a little but cover your mouth quickly with your thin fingers as he cuts his eyes towards you. He huffs again and you start to whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards the roof, “Sheriff, look at me.”

“No.”

“Come on,” You laugh, “I said I was sorry.”

“And that’s just supposed to make this all better? Right? Just because you said you’re sorry?” he asks softly, turning to face you.

You shrug, dropping your eyes to your fingers again, “Yeah?”

He laughs earnestly at your sheer audacity. You smile, biting down into your bottom lip as you send your eyes toward him, your smile softening at the sight of him. The crinkles are back. His nose is scrunched, his eyes turned into slits as he laughs. You glance down between the two of you and see a bouquet of flowers on the floorboard.

His laughter dies down and he shakes his head as he lets out a sigh, “You are such a stubborn ass.”

“But that’s why you like me, right?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving around your face, “Maybe.” He answers softly.

You grab his hand and place it in your lap, your thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles. You blink at each other, all of the anger and agitation bleeding out of you both like it wasn’t even there to begin with. He squeezes your hand and rubs the tips of your fingers with his thumb before he leans over to kiss you softly.

You moan, your eyes closing instinctively as his pillow soft lips hit yours for the first time that day. Relief and calm washes through you as he massages your lips with his and loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You're soon pressed up against his wide chest and body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and to his back. You hug him tightly to you as the intensity builds quickly, his stomach pushing over his belt and pressing into yours. You hum as his thick fingers skip up your thigh, palming your flesh softly.

His lips fall to your neck, his head nudging yours upward to gain full access to your sensitive skin. He sucks lightly, making you tense and moan as a jolt of sensation shoots straight to your sex. You grip his shoulder softly as that wandering hand moves further up your thigh - right into your dress, where his fingertips brush against your warm, tingly sex.

“Sheriff,” You breathe, spreading your legs and pushing your hips forward as you rub his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am?” He answers, his voice low and heady.

“Take me home and take advantage of me, please.”

His chuckle vibrates through your flesh. He nips at your neck, his teeth dragging along your skin, “As much as I’d love to darlin’, I’m on duty.” You groan in dissatisfaction, making him laugh again, “You shouldn’t have blown me off earlier, I could have taken care of you then.”

He pushes your panties to the side and brushes his fingers over your soft skin, where you shiver instantly. He pulls back so that he can watch your face as he pushes between your folds, stroking your slit gently, teasing you with just the tips of his fingers. You hiss and squeeze your legs together, jutting your hips forward to try and coax him inside.

He doesn’t take the bait.

But he wants to.

He glances over his shoulder behind the car and then out in front, finding the streets bare. He can hear the muffled sounds of Ruby’s band still going strong inside the small club. There’s been no calls over the radio in over an hour. He’s got time. He kisses your mouth quickly and pulls his hand from out of your dress to turn the key, bringing the loud engine to life, filling the silent night air with noise.

You push up onto your knees as he pulls away from the curb and throw your arms around his neck, your tongue sneaking out to lick just under his ear. You smile when you feel him shiver from the contact. You plant kisses on the side of his face and along his jaw before you blow softly into his ear, making him jump in his seat. You grab his earlobe with your teeth and pull softly as you drag your hand down his chest and over his soft stomach where you start to fumble with his belt.

The car speeds up suddenly as he jams his foot on the accelerator when your hand slithers into his pants. You laugh when expletives fall from his lips, the car swerving as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on the road in front of you. Pumping him slowly, you grab your bottom lip between your teeth again and rest your forehead against his temple. You breathe heavily into his ear, humming and moaning as you stroke him quickly, your thumb brushing over his sensitive tip.

Bucky weaves you through the empty town and finally pulls up behind the police station, blending in with the small fleet of exactly two other police cars. He loops his arm around your waist again, pulling you closer - sitting you down on the seat. He grabs your calves and throws them over his thighs and rucks your dress up around your waist. He slips his fingers underneath the band of your panties and pulls roughly, slipping them right down your legs and over your heels to throw them into the backseat.

You squeak when his thick digits push into you, his thumb flattening against your clit. He starts to pump, slow and deep, his blue eyes scanning your face as he drags in air through his open mouth. You roll your hips into his hand as he strokes your walls and teases your clit, you hooking your arm around his neck. You sit up straighter and push your chest into his side, keeping one leg thrown over his thigh, and placing the other on the floorboard - leaving you spread open.

He kisses you quickly, moaning and then hissing as your hand continues to push along his shaft. He brushes his nose against yours, his warm breath washing over your face as you nuzzle right back into him, your mouth falling open as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“God, sheriff,” You rasp, your hand halting as he strokes your insides.

“What was that, darlin’?” He whispers, his words full but languid, “What’s my name, sweetheart?”

You tense, pushing your body up the back of the seat as you squeak again, his fingers pushing deeper and harder. You buck your hips into his hand, throwing your head back, your hair tickling the exposed skin of your back, “Oh, sheriff.” you pant.

“That’s right, you sweet little thing,” He coos, “You fuck my fingers, sweetheart.”

You hum before licking your lips slowly, “I want more than your fingers, sheriff,” you say, your words rushed and hot. You lean forward and kiss him hard, placing your hands on either side of his full face, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks.

You pull away after only a few seconds, dragging in ragged breaths, your chest heaving hard. Reaching behind your back, you pull on the zipper of your dress, the material falling away from your body - leaving you naked.

Bucky inhales sharply.

You lay back on the seat, wrapping your legs around his waist as he twists and leans over you. He reaches out and places his hand in the center of your chest, right between your breasts and just leaves it there for a second as he blinks. You arch your back, rolling your shoulders and head when he sweeps his fingers down your sternum, stopping at your belly button. You grab his hand and bring it to your right breast, cupping your supple flesh as you force your back away from the seat again and suck the tip of his index finger into your mouth.

He pulls his hand away reluctantly - but keeps his eyes on you as he shrugs out of his leather jacket. He blinks slowly, pulling his eyes down your smooth, brown skin as his fingers work out the knot of his tie. He loosens it quickly and pulls off the thin clip before he yanks the tie over his head and discards it to the floor. He flattens his palm on the inside of your thigh and pushes it down to your sex, massaging you again as his free hand pops the buttons of his shirt.

Your mouth drops open as you purr at the sensations rippling through you as he touches you, his fingers soft and slow, “Bucky,” you keen.

He hears the desperation - the ache - the trembling need in your voice. He wants to satisfy it. All of it. All of you. He pushes his pants low on his hips, down to his knees before he adjusts his position between your legs, leaning over you further. You grip his sides as his stomach rests against yours, his cock pushing at your entrance.

His eyes wander again, away from your face and down your virtuous body, knowing he and he alone has been the only man to boast its yield, “You’re beautiful.” The words slip off his tongue like silk. He means it.

“You’re beautiful.” You return quickly, running your hands down his soft, wide chest.

You know he doesn’t believe it when you say it. Out loud, in this vulnerable position. All of him on display. Every little roll and crevasse for you to see - he isn’t Tic. He isn’t six foot something, with cannons for arms and a washboard stomach. He’s just a man, a simple man, in love with a beautiful, bold, mischievous woman.

You dig your fingers into his flesh as he enters you, spreading you. You thrust your chest towards his as you slam your eyes closed, gasping at the fullness - the completeness - you feel. Your body starts to lunge upward, your breasts pushing with the movement. His weight leaves you as he sits back on his knees, his hips still prodding as he draws your leg up onto his chest and shoulder, dropping kisses on your ankle.

There’s fingers around your throat, squeezing gently before they venture up your chin and into your mouth. You accept them willingly as he flattens his free hand to your chest again. You stretch your arm forward, slinking your thin digits up his arm to his bicep as his hips push, push, push into yours. Soft. Deliberate. Slow. Ravishing you in the only way you know - the only way you want.  

The pressure builds in your stomach, steady and purposed. He knows it - he knows you. So, he grabs your hips, pulls them closer, your legs falling over his thighs, your feet sliding along the old leather seat as he fucks you. He leans over you again, knowing you like his weight on you. He digs his hips into yours - his cock plunging into your soft, accepting cunt as he watches you. Mouth hanging. Lips red. Breath heavy.

It’s a rhythm. An intricate dance the two of you have perfected over time. Pushing and pulling. Giving and taking. The windows are foggy with the heat your bodies have created - your skin damp; balmy. Little droplets of sweat beading between your breasts. His tongue is quick to rid you of them, the droplets, pushing out from behind his lips to lap at your skin. He’d do anything to please you.

Fingers tweak your thick nipples. Rough palms grip your hips. Deep groans, low hisses fill your ears. Soft words, pretty designations falling from his lips. Affirmations of love.

“I love you,” you pant, your words shuddering with each breath, “Bucky, I-”

“I know it, doll. I know it.”

You choke suddenly as the fire spreads without warning. Your orgasm rushes through you, burning a familiar path through your wilderness. Bucky fucks harder as you come - the sound of his skin slapping against yours growing louder, his grip on your hips harder.

He loves to hear you. Crying, screeching, mewling, howling as his body peels you apart, layer by layer. He loves to watch you - shuddering and trembling, hips jerking, toes curling. It’s all he needs, all he wants. He wraps his fingers loosely around your throat again and lets himself go, strained grunts accompanying your ungodly sounds as he starts to spurt over and over.

You flatten your feet against the seat and push your hips upward - still gasping, still jerking uncontrolled as the synapses continue to fire. The additional warmth he provides as he spills into you electrifies you. No other man will know the depths of you, will fill you with his seed. You’re ruined - and you like it that way.

He collapses on top of you when he can’t hold himself up any longer. Soft skin against soft skin. You instantly corral him in your arms, pushing your dainty fingers into his soft, brown hair as he nuzzles into your neck. Breath still hard and hot. You're sticky and he’s sticky, a satisfied haze drifting into your eyes and brain, lulling you.

He pulls you up with him seconds later, his eyes darting around the empty, quiet parking lot, glancing out the back before he scans through the windshield. He pulls his pants back up over his hips and reaches into the backseat to grab the blanket he keeps stowed away, wrapping it around you. He pulls you close, slinking that long arm around your shoulder and pushing his nose against yours as a lazy smile covers his face.

You hum happily as you rest your hand on his stomach, rubbing his full tummy softly with your finger tips, “Tell me about that big ol’ bed again,” you whisper, nuzzling into his face and nose with yours.

“Mmm,” he hums, smiling softly, “It’s called a California King. They make ‘em for all those stars out there in Hollywood.” You giggle, and his smile broadens, “I’m gonna get you one of those beds, I promise you.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Although,”

“Although, what?”

“I don’t want you drivin’ Dottie anywhere anymore.”

He chuckles. The tips of his fingers brush over your naked shoulder and then dance down your arm, “She just wants what she can’t have. She’s jealous a’ you.”

“I know it.”

“Then don’t pay her no mind, girl. I mean it.” A silence drops over the two of you for a few minutes before he says, “I won’t drive her anywhere without tellin’ you. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’m sorry.”

You smile as you rest your head against his, letting your eyes close as sleep starts to pull you in. You feel him grab your fingers, pulling them away from his body as he starts to fumble around, slipping his arms back into his uniform. Once he’s dressed, you fall back into him. He wraps his arm around your neck. You place your hand back on his soft, round stomach. He rolls down the window, allowing the warm breeze to caress your skin. Nights like this are the best. You don’t know how you could be so stupid. You know he loves you.

You’ve always known.

“I’ma get you that little house over there on Pleasant drive, you know it?” he asks, daydreaming again, “We’ll get married -” You scoff, “What?”

“Married?” You ask skeptically, rolling your head on his shoulder as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes. Married.”

“How are you going to be the law in this town if you’re steady breaking it?”

He chuckles, “You don’t listen to the news?”

“No,” You say softly, squeezing him tighter as you let out a breath, “Too depressin’.”

“Well,” He starts, dropping kisses to the top of your head, “Richard and Mildred Loving are fighting hard for people like you and me.” You open your eyes and blink slowly, watching as the wind plays the branches of the trees across the street as he continues, “They’ll overturn those bullshit laws - just you watch. I’ll marry you the very next day, right here in the middle of town.”

“You think?”

“I think, what?”

“They’ll overturn ‘em?”

“They have to. The world’s too big for that small minded, backwoods bullshit now.”

“And then you’ll buy me that house over there on Pleasant Drive?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And then get me one of those big old beds, what you call it?”

“A California King.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sure will.”

“And then?”

He takes a breath before he sweeps his nose along yours again, brushing the tips together, “And then we’ll be together until we grow old and grey. I’ll probably be four hundred pounds by then, but.”

He chuckles as you pinch him, making him squirm from the sharp pain, “Stop it.” You warn.

“Look at me now! I’m well on my way.”

“I like you just how you are.” You say simply.

“I suppose you do.”

“I do.”

You barely have to push in to grab his lips as the two of you are already so close. You moan softly when they meet. That arm around your neck tightens, keeping you close - oh so close. You don’t tell him right away, but you like those daydreams of his. The house on Pleasant Drive, the big old bed, the wedding in the middle of town. You dream about them every night and wake up with them every morning. You don’t ever tell him though, because you’re the practical one. He’s the dreamer - and you like it that way.

You still don’t even tell him on the day he makes them all come true. How much you like those dreams of his.

[shingia]

Hiii!!!

I don’t know if we can request more than one for the weekly prompt. But if we can, can I get another iwazumi with 🦿? I’m really interested to see what you come up with.

Also, how are you?

hiii !! you sure can ! thanks for the request btw, it took me some time to come up with an idea but i think i’m satisfied with it (hope you’ll be too !) <3 and i’m doing good thx, my sister’s coming home tomorrow and i haven’t seen her in two months so that’s pretty cool :) how about you ? <3

-> ladies, gents and non binary friends, have some dad! iwaizumi being a finding nemo enthusiast

-> timeskip! iwaizumi x f!reader | mainly fluff | also, dad iwa <3 | word count : 0.7K

there was absolutely nothing in this world that could not be cured by the heavenly sight you came home to every evening after a long and exhausting day of work. a moody boss, grumpy clients, a broken coffee machine… it all disappeared the moment your eyes laid on the tiny hand of your daughter gripping your husband’s pinky, her two pigtails tickling the hollow of his neck.

it was an immutable ritual, as established as the earth rotating around the sun, your daughter’s evenings were all spent snuggled up against iwa’s chest. you were actually starting to fear the day this habit would have to be broken.

but she was only three - and time flowed so quickly that you did not have much time to be nervous about the future.

bag dropped to the floor, you hurried to the living room where you were greeted by one sleepy smile and one bright grin. « i think daddy’s falling asleep » you chuckled, pressing a loud kiss on your daughter’s chubby cheeks before doing the same on iwa’s forehead. « no he’s not » he corrected you with a poorly convincing frown, his hand reaching for your cheek to pull you in for another kiss. a real one this time. behind you, the tv was loud - louder than you would have wanted it to be - and it only took you a few seconds to recognize what movie was playing.

« haji. again ? it’s the fourth time this week ! » you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the screen where nemo’s dad was frantically looking for his son on the screen.

hearing your words, your daughter outstretched her short arm towards you, her hand wide open as she uttered a slurred « f-five ».

you didn’t know what was the most surprising, the fact that your 30 year-old husband was willingly watching ‘finding nemo’ for the fifth time this week, or the fact that your three-year-old daughter had actually kept count.

« what ? you’re gonna sue me for liking this fuc- this stupid fish ? » he dramatically sighed, bringing her closer like they were an exclusive club you were obviously not part of. and she did not seem to mind it, imitating her father’s loud sigh with her high-pitched voice.

amused at the thought that you had really made a carbon copy of your husband, you headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. watching them from afar, you took a few seconds to properly appreciate the blessed sight of your two stubborn hotheads, both getting soft in front of a clownfish on his first day of school. but the smile on your lips had a bittersweet taste, because the reason behind iwa’s choice of movie was very clear to you, and it brought an unwanted twinge to your heart.

as lighthearted as it was, the story of a fish with an atrophied fin sounded a bit too familiar to your family for his choice to be a coincidence. because under the blanket they were both tucked in was hiding what had been - and would probably always be - your daughter’s biggest insecurity. indeed, resting on iwa’s thighs was not only her sweet and plump figure, but also the cold metal of the artificial leg she still had to get used to.

maybe this movie was his way of coping, all while showing her that, if anything, being different was a strength more than a weakness. but you were not worried about your daughter at all, because whoever was raised by iwaizumi hajime was destined to reach their goals. it was a fact, even more established than their daily father-daughter routine, which was no small thing to say.

whatever support she lacked, her father was here to make up for it, lifting her a bit higher every day until she’d learn to walk alone. he probably thought that he still had a long way to go, but you knew from the way she immediately called for him in the morning that he was already the greatest hero of her life - and yours.

[imagine-organization-xiii]

If the members had a little sister, who would be the best big brother/sister and why?

Luxord's is inspired by me tbh. My grandma taught me how to play poker when I was like five or six and I would end up at her poker nights and hustle all of the old ladies out of their money. Fun times.

Not Roxas and Xion because they ARE the babies

-

Xemnas - Not the best, I would say. Doesn't really know how to be a sibling, more of a lone wolf than anything else. He's distant at best, completely horrific at worst. Cares, doesn't know how to show it. Demanding and ruthless, expects the best from you because he knows you're intelligent and powerful, doesn't deal with any slacking.

Xigbar - took care of you after your parents died, more like a fun uncle than a brother or a parent. The epitome of that guy who, after you get your heart broken, is like "time will heal your heart but not that asshole's window" and then throws a brick through the person's bedroom window. Pretty cool and laid back. "If you're gonna drink I'd rather you do it in the house" type of guy.

Xaldin - the guy who gets the cookie jar down from the top of the shelf when you can't reach it and doesn't tell your parents if you break something. Took him a while to get used to having you around because he was an only child for a long time, but he loves you dearly. (He probably won't show it, though, but rest assured that he does care.)

Vexen - there's a bit of an age gap between the two of you so he's less of a sibling and more of a guardian and father figure. Your wellbeing goes before your happiness - always makes sure that you are healthy and safe and well-educated.

Lexaeus - The one you can rely on for literally almost anything. Got your heart broken? He's there with ice cream and your favorite movie. Need help burying a body? He'll bring two shovels and some water so you don't get dehydrated while digging.

Zexion - the smallest age gap between you, the two of you basically grew up in the same generation. Your relationship varies - sometimes he's your best friend and you do everything together, other times he's your worst memory and you would sell him to Satan for one potato chip. Depends on the day.

Saix - he was a jealous sibling, annoyed that you got more attention than him and you were apparently the favorite since your parents always wanted a girl. There's a little resentment there that never goes away, unfortunately, but he gets over the initial derision, especially when your parents gradually pull away from both of you once you reach your early teens.

Axel - He's a good older sibling even though he would have preferred to have a younger brother (which is why he was so close to Roxas.) He cares about you, though! He just has to learn how to interact with you. After that, he's basically your partner in crime. Tries his best.

Demyx - like literally amazing??? one of the best big brothers in the world. Always wanted and never wanted to stop holding you when you were a baby. Happy to do whatever you want to do. Willing to do your nails and let you do his, will let you braid his hair, up for tea parties and will even bring pastries for you. The sweetest.

Luxord - taught you how to hustle like nobody's business. They would take one look at your bright eyes and chubby, innocent cheeks, and lower their guards so you would take them for all of their money.

Marluxia - You were the baby of the family and Marluxia already had one sister so he was prepared. He's the one who taught you how to do your hair, who helped you with makeup and nail polish, and who gave you the confidence to unapologetically be yourself when you were growing up. Gave you the tools you need to stand on your own.

Larxene - an amazing older sister overall. She would absolutely kill for you. "The strong must protect the sweet." Knows how hard it is to be a girl in a man's world sometimes, so she would be a staunch defender of any sisters she had.

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.34

A Little Spell

07/20/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,799

Warnings: smut, language, FLUFF, cute babies, slight angst

A/N: Enjoy! I’ve had fun with this one. As always if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work.

Tags are CLOSED!

Please do not REPOST my work on any other sites or blogs. REBLOGS are welcome!

Spring has awoken in Broklin. The sky is blue once more. Small tufts of cotton clouds fly by overhead as you walk with Maggie in your arms. She’s little, only three months, and aging with the peony blossoms in your gardens.

She wears one in her soft hay colored hair, carefully pinned by her Godmother Natasha this morning.

As she gawks at a flying bird, her chubby baby arms stretched out as if to touch it, your mind has a fleeting thought as you think about Nat, as it does every time you think of her.

What is he not telling me?

You remember it like it were only last night, Steve and Sam racing from your bedroom with a scroll crushed in Steve’s right hand.

He’d come back hours later looking tired and worried for only a moment as he walked into the room and then he’d smiled at you as you sat up, your little girl pressed to your breast as she fed.

He’d laid down beside you and kissed Maggie’s little feet just to hear her fuss a little and then laid with his eyes shut. Thinking things that you wanted but couldn’t know. Wouldn’t know. Still don’t know.

You’d known better at the time than to ask him what all of his rushing around had been about and instead settled Maggie between the two of you after she’d fed and only after he was asleep had you moved her into her cradle.

Steve had wrapped his arms around you in his sleep as you’d moved closer to him and it had chased away any fretting you’d had at the prospect of more trouble.

Despite the fear that had begun to grow in your mind, your worries seem to be unfounded as nothing has happened to alarm you or, really, anyone in the Kingdom.

“Sister!”

The call shatters your thoughts back to this blissful spring day and you turn to see Morgana moving quickly towards you, one hand holding up her pale green dress. The little vines etched along her collar and sleeves stand out in dark green and earthy brown.

“Morgana, your Majesty.” Peter states, moving towards Morgana and give her a quick bow while she too stops to greet him.

“Hello, Peter!” She smiles, then hurries back to you while Peter leaves you two to wait by the garden entrance.

You inspect your work—her dress—worried about the state of the stitching as she flounces about, but it’s holding up very well.

“Morgana, I thought you were in your lessons until the afternoon?” You chastise, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Maggie gasps in excitement, coos, and kicks her legs so quickly that you have to adjust her dress around her little feet. She’s a vision in pale blue to compliment the rosy pink peony in her hair.

Your own dress a stunning yellow, and a ribbon around your waist to match the color of Maggie’s dress.

With a little one, you have had to learn to keep your hair up or tied back. Grandmother had insisted on a braid this morning. Long with peonies also wound through to match your daughter.

For the most part, you don’t understand the fuss everyone has been making over the two of you looking so coordinated but apparently it is a tradition of the kingdom for a Queen and her child to set an example of “unity” . How exactly clothes show this, you have no idea.

“Hello little Maggie.” Morgana gushes then opens her arms to take her.

Handing your daughter over, you adjust her dress as Morgana gets her comfortable.

“Don’t ignore me, Morgana.” You warn her, with love of course.

“I’m not ignoring you.” She huffs. “I’m merely using my beautiful niece to avoid answering the question.”

You laugh. A confession you had not been expecting.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, still chuckling as the two of you resume your walk through the winding hedges of your now wild garden.

All these flowers once grouped with their own species and rigorously kept apart before were now in a truly wild blend of organized chaos.

“I finished early and the Master asked if I would like to proceed to the next lesson or spend the day on my own…” She begins.

“And naturally you decide that the day is better spent with Maggie and I?”

“Of course!” Morgana smiles, tickling Maggie’s little tummy. “Isn’t that right, Princess?”

“You should have gotten a head start on your lessons.” You reason.

“And miss out on this beautiful day? I don’t think so. Besides, my brother-in-law would like to see you. It looks like a meeting.” Morgana says, knowing that you will know what she means. “He sent me down to fetch you, and to take little Maggie back upstairs for her nap.”

“Has something happened?” You panic, stopping to look at her with wide eyes.

Maybe you were getting too comfortable too soon?

“I don’t know.” She laughs. “Father tells me nothing and mother insists that I stay out of all Avenging business.”

“They’re right, Morgana…I’m so glad that you weren’t anywhere near during the battle.” You worry. “Or Shuri. I’m glad she and her brother had to go back home before anything could happen.”

“They could have helped. The Black Panther is very skilled. And powerful.” Morgana reasons.

“He is.” You nod. “But I would have everyone be safe rather than risk the dangers of the castle that night.”

“You make it sound so terrifying.” She tells you, not realizing that you’d left out a chunk of compelling story when you’d recounted the events of the night.

“It was.” You assure her.

“Sister, even if it was scary, don’t you think that all of the Avengers fought for a reason? They all want to protect you. And my brother-in-law fights for more than just you and Maggie. He fights for the freedom of his kingdom.”

She thinks a moment, and smiles. “But mostly for you. You should see the way he watches you and Maggie. There’s a fear in his expression that I don’t understand. Almost a yearning. Even Nat says that she does not remember him ever looking at anyone so.”

“I don’t want anyone fighting for me, Morgana. I want everyone to be safe.”

There must be something in your eyes as you insist because she nods, understanding.

“Where were they?” You move on, eager to forget the night of Maggie’s birth.

“It’s only Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha.” She informs you, making sure you know it isn’t the entire team. “They’re waiting for you in Steve’s den.”

“Can you manage Margaret?” You wonder, waiting to see what she’ll say.

Morgana rolls her eyes, “Of course, I can! Now go.”

With a bite to your bottom lip you quickly lean in and press a kiss to Maggie’s cheek.

She turns towards you as you pull away. Eyes wide and hands and feet flailing and kicking in excitement.

“I’ll see you shortly my pretty girl.” You coo at her then head towards the castle at a hastened pace.

As you pass the gate you move to Peter’s side with a pleading look.

“Will you stay and watch over her?” You fuss, worried about leaving Morgana alone with Maggie. Not that you don’t trust her, but you’re a little more wary now after so many close calls.

“I-” Peter begins, ready to defy you in favor of protecting you. He’s your personal guard!

“Please, Peter. I need to know that I can trust you to protect her if I cannot be around.” You plead.

Peter watches your expression then glances behind you towards Maggie and Morgana.

“Of course, your Majesty. I will protect them both with my life.” He promises, easing the worries in your heart.

You hurry on, but just as you reach the door you look back at your daughter once more and find Morgana helping her wave her tiny clenched fist as she mouths Bye-bye momma! Peter joining them with a small jog.

As he stops beside them, Morgana’s gaze is diverted, and her cheeks fill with a rosy tint.

You return their small wave and allow your feet to carry you faster through the castle towards Steve’s den.

On the second floor you pass Sharon nestled into a small library with her nose in a book.

You stop, warring with your two halves. The one side of you is eager to greet her and ask her to accompany you to this new meeting that you’ve suddenly been summoned for when you’re so often left in the dark about Avengers matters. You’re grateful to her for saving your life and the life of your little girl.

Then there’s the second half. The wife half. The woman within you that remembers the sight of her nestled in against Steve’s chest. The stern set of her jaw when you staked your claim for him and then the feeble attempt at an apology that so clearly had meant nothing at the time.

Your jealousy is moderate now. It doesn’t rear its head like a starving monster anymore, but it’s still there. You are Steve’s and he belongs to you. You’ve rarely felt the need to make it clear that you belong to each other. When you see Sharon being one of those occasions.

With a quick breath, cut short by a determined huff from your gnawed-on lips, you stifle the urge to claim and instead allow the friendlier side to move you into the room.

“Sharon?”

Sharon blinks, searching for you with wide eyes still dazed by her book.

“Oh,” She smiles, rising as she sets her books aside.

She curtsies as you stop before her, hands placed gently at your front as you try to stand the way Nat has taught you. Regal. Or as close to it as you can manage. You’re still unconvinced that you can pull this royalty business off.

You know you’re Queen and you make no arguments about it, but you’re fairly certain that Sharon—and other women like her, Nat included—will always look more the part of nobility than you do.

“Your Majesty, good morning.” Sharon greets, rising and matching your pose but clearly more relaxed.

“Good morning. I hope you’re well?” You begin, hoping the pleasantries aren’t unwelcomed.

“I’m very well, my lady. Thank you for asking.” She smiles again, a bit softer.

“I was wondering, why aren’t you with the others in Steve’s office?”

“I, my lady?” Sharon asks, genuinely confused as she presses her hand to her chest. The pale silk orange dress is elegant but fitting of the weather. The dark purple roses that flow upwards into a cluster in the pattern draw the eye to her bust, just as her hand does.

“I was sent for by Steve just now.” You explain.

“I-I’ve been in here all morning. All night even. It might be possible that they sent for me, but no one knows where I am. This has always been a good place to hide.” She confesses and her smile widens.

“Well, why don’t you accompany me? Whatever schemes they have you will no doubt be an asset. Indeed, I don’t know why they’ve sent for me. I’m…I couldn’t possibly be of much help.” You shake your head, relaxing a little more with every word you speak.

“I think it likely that his Majesty wants to keep you apprised of the events in the Kingdom.” Sharon ponders. “After what happened at King Anthony’s castle, he’d be a fool to keep you in the dark.”

You hadn’t though of that. Steve is summoning you to keep you informed? He never has before.

Once again, your mind is dragged back to the day of Thor’s visit and Sam’s urgent scroll.

You must have gone into a daze while your mind ran with thoughts because Sharon clears her throat, pulling you from your own ponderings.

“Your Majesty?” She checks, wary.

“Sorry.” You smile again. “I’m sorry. Will you come?”

Gesturing towards the door you take a tentative step as you await her choice.

“Of course!” She exclaims, rushing to open the door fully for you.

“You don’t have to-”

“Please.” She states simply, and you don’t refuse her.

The two of you walk together, Sharon a half step behind you—as she should be with you as Queen—in surprisingly comfortable silence.

When you reach the wing that you and Steve live in, you clear your throat, walking a little slower with his den visible at the end of the hall.

“I’m glad you decided to stay a little longer with us.” You tell her quietly.

“As am I, your Majesty.” She smiles. “Seeing you run the castle and the introductions with the court and the people…I hope Maggie won’t turn in her grave, but you do this job better than she ever did.”

“Oh?” You’re not exactly surprised by her statement. Steve has often told you this himself, but to hear it come from two people who loved Margaret the most and knew her the best really speaks volumes.

“Maggie was always focused on the world. It’s good to see someone care about just this Kingdom. It wasn’t in ruins or anything when she was in rule, but it has truly prospered under your care. And your attentions to its people force Steve to also consider those closer to home.

“There will always be an evil out there for us to fight. I think he used to forget those that depend on him waiting right here.” Sharon ponders, not really asking any questions just making observations.

“You’re too kind.” You smile. “It has truly been my honor to serve. To help.”

“Serve?” She asks, confused.

“Isn’t that what we do? Steve and I?” You think aloud. “We are here to provide a service. That service is indispensable. We provide stability and structure to the lives of everyone in Broklin. We were placed here to not only rule, but to help and to take care of those who need us. We are called to serve our people in the best ways we are able.

“There can be no service more important to perform in all the world.” You shrug, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

Sharon huffs a small laugh, not in sarcasm, but surprise.

“What?” You stop, turning to look at her with your hands carefully placed at your front. “What have I said?”

“You truly put us all to shame, your Majesty.” She states, looking into your eyes with a sparkle of sincerity. “There are sovereigns that would say the exact opposite. That it is the duty of the people to serve their King and Queen.”

“And it is.” You agree. “We are a carriage wheel, the people and us. In order for us to carry forward, we all must do our parts. It’s why I chose to marry Steve despite never having known him.

“I love him now, but when I agreed to marry him, I had no idea who he was. My father needed me to be dutiful and I was.” You smile. “We serve the people and they serve us in turn. We cannot have one without the other. Kingdoms fall every day to famine, disease, discontent among the people…one cannot expect to take and take without giving something in return.”

“Yes.” Sharon nods, “I see that now. And I’m sure Steve has seen it too. You’re teaching him well.”

You laugh, finding it silly that you could teach Steve anything that he doesn’t already know.

“Come on, before they grow impatient.”

As the two of you approach the door, you spot Grandmother leaning against the wall just outside the door, her hand on her chest and her eyes shut tight as if she’s struggling with a pain of some kind.

“Your Majesty?” Sharon probes as you slow just outside the door.

“Go on in.” You tell her, “I’ll be right in.”

Sharon nods and joins the others while you approach grandmother, a sudden realization fills you with dread.

Grandmother is old. And as much as you’ve grown used to her care, she will not always be with you.

“Grandmother? Are you alright?” You check, easing closer before placing your hand on her back carefully.

She’s lost so much weight recently that her dresses have begun to fit her loose. You’ll have more made for her.

“Shall I send for a doctor?” You ask, ear growing.

“No.” She says, withered voice shaking with a trembling breath.

“What’s the matter?” You wonder, placing reassuring hands on the sides of her arms.

She looks up at you, her eyes boring into your own and you can see it all in the reflection.

She’s terrified. This old woman, fearless in the face of a full on battle, is scared.

“Will you not confide in me?” You fret.

“No.” She says, eyes narrowed as she considers you and her legs grow stronger. “Not until I see it all.”

You’re confused by her words but try not to dwell on them.

“Let me at least get you a glass of water.” You insist.

“I said no, girl. Get back to your duties and leave me be.” She grumbles and pushes around you, muttering something under her breath as she reaches into one of her hidden pockets and pulls from within it a small vial of glittering powder.

You watch her until she’s out of sight, your mind trying to make sense of what little she said, but you can’t. You never could with Grandmother. Why was she out here to begin with? Had she been part of the meeting up until now?

Inside Steve’s den, you find Natasha sitting on one of the plain seats by his desk, Bucky beside her, arms crossed as he stares at a map spread out across Steve’s desk.

Sam is leaning against the desk, one hand along the edge while he points at a cluster of black iron houses near the corner. Sharon, sits in the chair beside Nat giving the impression that Sam must have given the seat up for her when she entered.

Your husband sits in his large chair behind the desk, his elbow on the wooden arm. His right hand covers his mouth while he taps a finger on the other deep in thought.

All of them turn to look at you as you enter. Sam straightens up, Natasha and Sharon both rise to their feet, and Bucky drops his arms. Steve however is transfixed on the map, eyes blazing with storm clouds as his mind fixates on whatever problem has gathered them all into this room.

“No, please…” You tell the others and they relax, taking up their previous positions.

You edge your way over to Steve and almost on instinct he opens his left arm to greet you beside him, turning his chair before he pulls you into his lap without sparing you a glance.

Normally you might protest the open affection in front of your closest friends but as you sit and he wraps his arm around your waist, there’s a needy weight to his embrace that tells you in this moment he must feel you there with him.

You recognize it and it makes you nervous. Fearful of what is troubling him.

“Is it bad?” You ask, looking only at him.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it slowly but doesn’t utter a word.

“Bucky?” You turn to him and wait as he shakes his head then nods to Sam.

“They’re here.” Sam says, leaning over the map again to point at the same cluster of black iron houses. “In this village. Abandoned long ago. All of the structures are crumbling. Decayed. If they’re not overgrown with vegetation, they’re soggy with mold and moss. Thor says there are at least three dozen soldiers left.”

“Hydra?” You ask, surprised you could find the breath in your body to do so.

“We thought that Captain Danvers had killed Rumlow, but it appears that he escaped before she could finish the job. He’s taken what’s left of their numbers here to regroup and rebuild.” Sam explains.

“Then we go after them.” Sharon says passionately.

“Thor says that rushing in would be reckless.” Bucky says. “They have something there. A weapon unlike any he’s ever seen before. It turns men into mindless slaves with a single touch. It shoots out an energy that he has never seen.

“And there’s no way to guarantee that they would still be there, even if we went now.”

“Where is Thor?” You wonder, looking around as if he might appear form the shadows.

“Searching.” Nat says. “For information on the power they possess.”

“We have to do this carefully. I won’t risk open war. Not with these villages here surrounding them on all three sides and the border on their back. They could slip into the Kingdom to the south and start a war between our kingdoms.” Steve shakes his head. “We’ll take a day, come up with a few strategies. We must move but we must do so correctly.”

“I thought they were gone.” You lament, starting at the cluster of houses.

Your tone finally brings Steve’s gaze to you and he wraps his arm around you more tightly.

“And they are.” He assures you. “This is what’s left of them. They’re weakened and if we do this properly, we might finally be able to eradicate the world of Hydra.”

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” Bucky says solemnly drawing everyone’s eye.

Steve is frowning, his hands gripping the fabrics of your dress above your thigh as he considers his childhood friend.

“Then we’ll rip out their hearts.” He declares before immediately stifling the rage that filled his chest. “We need to take that weapon away from them and then we can kill them once and for all. We can’t wait for Thor.”

Nat gets to her feet and Bucky drops his arms. “We should at least give him a week to return before we attack. We need to know what we’re facing.”

Steve considers this, “I’ll give him three days. It’s all we can afford. Any more time and we may as well send them the numbers to withstand us.

“You and Nat take the rest of the day for yourselves, enjoy each other and tomorrow begin recruiting amongst the guard. Anyone skilled in deceit. They should also be able to hold their own against either of you.”

Nat nods and heads for the door. Bucky hesitates but quickly follows his wife out, leaving the door open.

“Sam, ride for Malibia and see if Tony can come back and whether Lord and Lady Lang are still present at his castle.” Sam nods, then leaves too.

“Shall I reach out to Fury?” Sharon wonders, pushing herself to the edge of her seat.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “They’re racing after a separate faction of Hydra supporters. We’ll let them do their work. I want you to go to the East tower.”

“Wanda?” She asks, curious but unsurprised. “You want me to train her?”

“I want you to question her.” Steve clarifies. “She and her brother were part of Hydra. They were created by Hydra. If anyone might know what this mystery weapon is, it will be them.”

Sharon rises and rushes out with a curtsy leaving you and Steve alone in his office.

Your eyes dance around the now empty room, stopping on the curtained off corner that had been Margaret’s reading nook.

The jealousy you feel is almost imperceptible. He’s had it sectioned off for so long that you’re certain he did it to either keep you out or shield it from view so that he might move on without being reminded of his first love.

“Are you worried?” He asks, drawing your gaze back down to meet his own.

“Only because I wish this were over.” You shake your head, reaching up to trace the shape of his cheek and then slide your hands into his soft and slightly unwashed golden head of hair. “But it will never be over, will it?”

Steve’s face is serious, pained in a way, but only because he can see your distress. “No.”

His agreement weighs your heart down and you settle into his arms a little sadly.

He wraps you up in them, pulling you so close that you might as well be fused with how he’s got you tucked in against his chest. You shut your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder, tucking it underneath his chin when he adjusts it to rest it against your head.

“Oh, my sweet flower.” He whispers. “I’m sorry that I cannot be normal for you.”

His lament gives you pause, making your heart ache for an entirely different reason.

“Steve…” You push yourself back up, searching for his storm blue eyes which you find full of sorrow. “…I would not want you to be anyone but who you are.”

He considers your words for a few moments while you renew the caress to his head.

“Wouldn’t you prefer it if I were a normal king? No Avengers? No strange enemies with strange abilities?” He wonders. “I know that even my own abilities might be a little troublesome. I know that I can be a little heavy handed.”

“Steve,” You stop him, taking his face in both your hands and turn him to face you. “I would not change one single thing about you. Not your strange addiction to salted pork with that cherry glaze Cook makes. Not the wrinkles around your eyes when you laugh. Not the strength in your body or the smiles that greet me in the morning. Not the love you will always hold for Margaret, despite your declarations to the opposite.”

You drop your voice so that it is low and only for his ears, even though you’re very much alone.

“And most definitely not those heavy hands that pin me to our bed.”

His cheeks flush pink and it makes you so proud to make him blush that you chuckle once.

“I love every inch of you. Yes, I worry but only because I’ve seen you beaten and bloody. I’ve tended your wounds and watched you flinch. I’ve waited at your bedside in fear that you would never wake. I’m afraid that someone will take you from me and I’m not sorry for that. I can’t pretend that this life is not without risk and that very risk might one day take you from me and Maggie. I would wipe the world of evil if I could, but I know that I cannot so, I will worry every day for the rest of my life because I love you.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

Steve sighs heavily, hating your words. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your chest as his hands trace the shape of your back, rubbing it to give you comfort.

“I wish I could give you a life without strife.” He cries, voice muffled against your breast.

“Oh, my darling, there is no woman, no wife or mother in this world that lives without strife. Perhaps mine is a little more elevated with so much hanging in the balance, as Queen and also the wife of the Captain, but I do not regret my choices. I would gladly marry you and endure all of my hardships over and over again if it meant that I could have this moment. Our daughter safe with her Aunt and you with your arms around me.”

Steve smiles at you, sappy and pure.

“I’ll be careful.” He promises.

You throw your head back and laugh, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep from falling off his lap.

“What?” He asks in humored shock. “What’s humorous in my promise?”

“Just swear to me that you will return to me in a somewhat decent state. One which I can nurse you through and I will gladly wait forever for you.” You can’t expect him to make promises he can’t keep and for him to be careful…well, you know better.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice deep and low.

His sudden declaration sends massive butterflies into the pit of your belly and your heart does a dance. It robs you of breath and you lick your lips and swallow the lump forming.

“Even after seeing me as I gave birth to Maggie? You love me after that?” You wonder, knowing the sight it must have been.

“No woman on this world is stronger or more capable than you, my petal. I could not have done what you did to bring her into being and I will worship at your feet for sacrificing so much to bring her to us.” He gushes, genuine and intense in his expression despite the lovesick flow of his words.

How long will this last? How long will he really love you in this way?

You know it all fades eventually. You’re not a fool. You’ll be glad if you and Steve love each other half as well as Tony and Pepper when you two have been married as long.

He pulls you down to kiss him and you give him what he needs and what you so desperately want. You think back to every time he pulled away from you, despising you for touching him just after you were married. You remember the way he forced himself to consummate, the way he’d drowned out your cries for relief because he wanted to get it over with.

He wanted to be done with you and never could you have imagined that he would hold you so dearly. His lips wrapping themselves along yours, tongue softly probing for entry which you swiftly allow.

“Do you have to get back to work?” You whisper between a kiss, lips wet, eyes hazy with desire.

Steve pulls back to see your eyes and he shakes his head, leaning back in. He runs his tongue along your open mouth as he pushes you up onto your feet only to reach down and hike up the front of your skirt.

He pulls you towards him, hands hooking behind your thighs as he guides you back onto his lap but leaves you standing over him.

His hands disappear underneath the folds of your dress, but you can hear the swish of his pants as he braces himself on the arms of his chair and pushes his trousers down a bit.

His hands caress the length of your leg, from behind your knee to thigh before finding your hip. With one hand he leads you and with the other he lines himself up, the heat of his cock pressing against the soft wet folds of your cunt.

You shiver.

“Tell me you love me.” He begs, needy.

“I love you.” You answer, a breathy whisper as he impales you slowly.

“My sweet…” He groans, yanking you down to kiss him in a fevered passion that you hope he will never forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to go check on Grandmother.” Your eyes are fixated on the shielded corner of Steve’s den.

You’re not really looking at it, but it’s in your line of sight.

Steve groans, tracing the skin of your bum where you sit, still resting on his lap. Your head is on his chest, your body still wrapped around his. Still full of him though he’s spent after three rounds. You will both be sleeping soundly tonight, so long as Maggie will allow you to do so.

It’s not the custom for you to watch her at night but you insisted and as Queen no one will argue. Especially when Steve is so eager to support you in building a new way of life in the castle.

“She’s ill.” You reason with him, “I found her outside your door nearly fainted. With her age, I’d hate for us to be careless with her heath.”

“Shall I send for a doctor?” Steve asks, hands stopped on your bottom.

“Not yet. I’ll check with her first and then send for someone if needed.” You sit up and make to rise.

Steve’s hands suddenly grasp your bottom tight, fingers digging into your flesh. There’s a worry in it and it makes you look at him in search of what it might be.

“Do you want to see?” He asks you.

You’re at a loss as to what he means, and it must show on your face.

“Behind the curtains.” He explains, then gestures at the spot with a nod. “You were curious once before.”

You look at the spot and try not to feel too hurt or sound wounded by the memory of that day.

“And you were angry with me for it.” You remember.

“No.” Steve says, voice stern and certain. “No, my love, I-I was angry but not because you tried to look at her spot. I was angry because I thought you’d read my book.”

He sits up a bit more, arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place as he reaches with the other one to grab the red book with the large A embossed on the cover.

“This book holds every account of every mission that we have ever run as a team. It holds details of enemies and their abilities or their motives. It has everything.

“When I walked in that day, I saw you with your hand on it. I saw you reading it.” Steve hurries to explain. “My heart dropped when I realized what it was you were looking at and I lashed out. It wasn’t right of me to do so, but the last thing that I wanted was to have you involved in that world.”

“Oh.” You realize, staring at the book in his hand. “I thought-”

“I will not lie and say that it didn’t have a little to do with Margaret and her space in my den, but mostly I-I was already in love with you and the thought of you and all your purity and goodness, all of your vulnerability exposed to the violence of the world I lived in filled me with a fear that I have never known.

“Even now, only the thought of our little Maggie in danger compares to the terror that fills me when I think of you at the mercy of Pierce’s sword.” He brings his hands up, one on your cheek and the other on the back of your neck. “I would have gone mad if he’d taken you both from me.”

You can’t blame him for the fear. You’d felt it too. Still feel it when you imagine your little one, protected only with your body and you with no way to fight Pierce off.

“We owe Sharon so much.” You tell Steve and he nods.

“I can never repay her for being there when I could not be.” Steve agrees.

Several moments pass in silence as the two of you reflect on what could have been and relish in each other’s presence, bodies pressed so close still, in gratitude for the reality of the outcome.

“So?” Steve continues. “Would you like to see?”

He tosses the red book back onto his desk and carefully helps you up. He pulls your skirts down, helping you fluff them out as they should be before tying the string of his trousers and adjusting his shirt.

With the soft hiss of skin on skin, he takes your hand and pulls you around his desk towards the corner.

He releases your hand and reaches up to unhook the heavy curtains.

As they fall away, it reveals not a reading corner but a remade space with a new seat by the window. A bench with a plush pink cushion, darker pink peonies in the fabric. The dark woods compliment the lighter colors. Around that seat is indeed a bookcase but it’s much smaller than the ones that surrounded it before.

There is also a spinning wheel, a basket of what you can only assume is everything you will need to make your own yarn. There are several small round containers that you recognize as sewing kits. In one sitting open you can see a pair of iron scissors, thick and heavy. A leather pouch, spools of already woven yarn, and a collection of cutting knives for leather should you decide to work with it. There’s a small table against the other wall where a large bookcase had sat before, piled with patches of fabrics for embroidery and a few samples of tapestry fabrics that excite you as you’ve never worked on a tapestry before.

Near that table along the floor is a plump yellow cushion. The design is also feminine but only just with silver and baby blue butterflies. A small pillow, a doll made of rags and another out of wood tells you that this spot is for your little one.

Steve offers his hand once more and you take it, in awe of his reveal.

“I know you like to read so I had some books brought for you, but I wanted this space to be yours and yours alone. Well, until three months ago when Maggie was born, and I had that small space added for her. Do you…like it?” He wonders, watching you as you let his hand go and move to trace the smooth lines of your spinning wheel.

“Like it?” You gasp. “Oh, Steve…”

You burst into tear and cover your face. Why must you be so emotional right now? You want to show him how happy you are!

“Oh, no. Please do not cry.” He pleads, moving to wipe your tears away.

“I c-can’t help it. I’m sorry.” You weep. “I’m just so-so happy.”

Steve laughs, an easy chuckle as he pulls you against his chest.

“Thank goodness.” He kisses your head and holds you until you stop crying.

The walk to grandmother’s is a happy one. You’re excited to spend time in Steve’s den. Not only because he’s given you so many new tools to really make some high-quality products but because this means that you’re officially part of his life. He wants you near him when he works. He’s opened his space up for you and is welcoming you so openly.

After so long spent wondering whether you belonged here at all, you finally have your place. Truly this is where you belong.

A keening cry pierces the cool spring air. The shade of the trees that surround Grandmother’s cottage suddenly seem looming with the clear sound of an animal crying out in protest is cut abruptly cut off.

You stop walking and wait a moment to see if you might hear anything else but when you don’t, you race towards the cottage, in fear for Grandmother’s life.

As you shove the door open, you expect to find the old woman clutching her heart again, on her knees in a heap on the floor.

What you do not expect to find is the old woman in the middle of a large circle drawn onto her floor.

Even now, a strange purple light fades from the circle leaving behind the sight of Grandmother on her knees, a slaughtered mess of black fur in front of her and her hands bathed in blood as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Grandmother?!” You race towards her, stepping into the circle as the light fades completely.

She turns towards you, watching you with pure white eyes. Although she looks at you, her eyes see beyond you. They watch something you cannot see, and you begin to realize that everything that everyone said about Grandmother being a witch had been completely correct and not at all because of her old age and her hermit behavior.

“Grandmother are you alright?” You ask in a panic, realizing her true self while trying to make sense of it with the old woman who just delivered your daughter.

When she speaks, she breathes inward. Her voice escapes as a gasp.

Breathing in. “The worst is yet to come.”

Breathing out. “There will be a power much darker than this world has ever seen.”

Breathing in. “Six are sought by the one who shall wield them. Half will die.”

Breathing out. “Already he makes his move.”

“Grandmother?”

With her eyes still bone white, she seems to finally see you and grasps the top of your arms with such strength that you’re sure her fingers will leave a bruise.

“He will fight harder than he has ever fought before. He will protect them all with his life.”

He? Steve?

“And he will fall.”

[ciggylungz]

Miss Ginger

Miss ginger

Blurb night- 2.5k

(request: can you plz do something about Harry being all soft with his kids?)

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Harry had always been a family man. Ever since he was a little boy he dreamed of having his own family, couple of kids, a nice family home with a big back garden for the little ones to run around in and him and his wife to attempt to grow some fruits and veg and maybe a few sunflowers or daisies. Simple, modest, pure and quaint but most of all, happy.

The day Harry met Y/n he knew she was special. She had this aura that he wanted to wrap himself in like a blanket. A laugh as pretty as song birds in the morning, a heart of gold, quick wit and full of talent. He knew she was going to be his wife someday, and he swears the day she said yes when he got down on one knee his heart grew 3 times its size.

The pair planned their wedding to be an intimate, beautiful event and with the help of Harry’s lovely mother Anne and Y/n’s combined work they were able to pull it off. They had decided to invite their parents and siblings, their closest friends- which included Harry’s former bandmates who made sure to embarrass the newly wed man during their best man speech- and all of Harry’s god children as well as their parents.

Harry wasn’t shy about crying when he saw his bride walk down the isle towards him, her dress was a simple silk fitted gown with delicate trimming of lace. Y/n chose to wear the same pearl earrings her mother had worn at her own wedding and a diamond necklace Anne had gifted her for the occasion. He really couldn’t help the waterworks making their way down his face as he took in her beauty, he stayed weepy through the entirety of their vows a huge smile across his dimpled face when he finally lifted the vail over her head giving her the first kiss as a married couple. She was his, and he was hers and the pair couldn’t be more smitten for each other even as they stand where they are now nearly 4 years into their marriage.

Over the last 4 glorious, joyful years of being fully committed to each other, sharing a surname and living as a unite the pair had welcomed 2 beautiful children into the world. Alfie who was nearly 3, he was conceived only around 6 months into their marriage yet they couldn’t have been more elated to find out they were expecting. The second was their little girl Rosana that they affectionally called by her nickname ‘Rosie’ and she was now coming up on 10 months old, she was starting to become increasingly mobile already such a bubbly happy little girl who had her dad wrapped around her tiny chubby finger.

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Harry was currently on a break, just finishing his first solo tour finally getting some downtime to be home with his family and he couldn’t be happier. He loved every part of fatherhood, he enjoyed getting up in the morning and starting the little ones routines. First Harry would go downstairs, putting a kettle on while taking some breastmilk y/n had pumped from the fridge to warm up, when both of those were taken care of he’d migrate back upstairs into his sons room where he’d usually find his little guy sitting up in his new big boy toddler bed playing with one of the various stuffed toys on his bed as he waited patiently to be gotten up. Harry adored the way his son would perk up when he walked in, opening the toddlers curtains to let the sunshine in giving him a nice morning cuddle before taking him to the bathroom to change out of his pullup into his new big boy underwear since y/n and Harry are finally reaching the tail end of potty training their first born. It had been a struggle, yet every time their little boy danced around with a sticker on his shirt for going on the potty it was worth every bed wetting incident, and all the terrible two’s tears that came with the teaching. After he had him changed, he tried his best to tame the boys hair. The little tyke inherited his fathers chocolate curls unlike his sister who wore a head full of ginger ringlets.

After all of the hygiene tasks were complete, he’d serve the boy his breakfast, steeping his wife and him a cup of tea using the remaining warm water to heat the breastmilk in for when Rosie decided to greet the day. Harry didn’t mind giving his girl a bottle feed so his wife could get a little extra sleep in the mornings, opting to nurse during the day and before bed pumping whatever’s left to hold Rosie over till her mother wakes up.

Unlike some people, when Harry heard the baby monitor start to go off with the cries Rosie gives when she first wakes up he smiles instead of groans. He didn’t get angry when his kids cried, he was actually good at reading the cry’s instead of getting frustrated which always helped calm it down quickly and his little girl would always have a little cry when she’d wake up and think she’s all alone.

As soon as her daddy opened her nursery door the little girl stood up in her cot, balancing herself by gripping the railing to get a good look at who was coming towards her. once the morning light was shining in from Harry opening her curtains the tears stopped and a sniffling nose and big gummy grin was shining on her face, a contagious smile at that.

“Good morning sunshine!” the man raised his voice a few octaves, a big grin on his face as he picked her up from her bed giving her a nice hug as he swayed back and forth. “Did yeh have a good sleep, miss ginger? You look very beautiful this morning my girl, always take your shirt off when yeh sleep don’t ya’ silly girl? I get it girlfriend, sometimes you gotta let it breathe babe. C’mon think it’s time for a nappy change and a bottle hmm?” the little girl giggled at her father, bouncing in his arms and babbling incoherently whilst her dad cleaned her up and got her ready for her morning feed.

Harry set the baby in her bouncer, putting the milk into her bottle checking the temperature on his wrist before giving it to the still topless baby. It was easier to just leave it off during the morning snack, she was a rather messy little girl since she always wanted to hold her own bottle now often letting it dribble onto her tummy as she removed the nipple from her mouth to babble at her father. She always had a lot to say, even if no one but her knew what she was on about, no one had created a baby talk translation app yet so until then her passionate rants wouldn’t be understood.

Alfie was at an age where he wanted to be independent more, he reminds everyone how he’s a big boy, whenever he puts his own dish in the washer or screws the top onto his sippy cup by himself. Both his parents found it absolutely adorable and humorous as well.

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When Harry heard the pitter patter of his wife coming down the stairs around 45 minutes after he’d got the kids up, a soft smile etched itself onto his face. He swears every time he sees her, no matter what state she’s in he still finds her breathtakingly gorgeous. Angelic even. Even when he had pulled Alfie out of her as she pushed, he still found her beautiful. Nothing would ever change the love and attraction he felt for his wife.

“Mornin’ love, sleep well?” the man brought his wife into his arms, giving her a warm hug and a kiss on the crown of her head. “Mhm, thank you for gettin’ up with the kids so I could get a few extra minutes of rest. Love yeh h.” she stood on her toes to peck his lips, this far into a relationship and being parents a slightly morning breathy kiss didn’t bother them in the slightest. After you’ve changed some ungodly diapers, smells don’t affect you the same anymore.

“no problem, had an easy morning Alfie was good about brushing his teeth and me and Rosie had a nice cuddle. She woke up shirtless again, I’m starting to get her vibe think I might start just being half naked all the time.” Y/n chuckled at her husband, sipping her tea slowly before responding. “At least it was just her top this time, last week when I got her up she had taken everything off. Had to do an extra load of wash after that one. Silly little girl.”

The couple could fawn over their kids for an infinite amount of time, but a thud from the living room disrupted their banter. The two wore matching raised eyebrows while venturing into the room, being met with the sight of Rosie’s bottle tossed at the wall and the girl herself holding her feet up with her little hands in a split position while still strapped into her bouncer chair.

“Hey missy, throwing things isn’t nice. C’mon time to get dressed, can’t have nakey babies crawling in the garden can we? Neighbors might think we aren’t watchin’ after yeh well enough.” Her mother unstrapped her, bringing her to her chest to kiss her cheeks, her father deciding to chime in, “I think with that chubby tummy and those chunky thighs they’ll know our girl is more than taken care of.”

y/n bounced the baby in her arms, cooing at her and mocking Harry’s words with a baby voiced ‘is that true?! Rosie are you a chunky lady?’ which got them a chorus of baby laughs from the infant.

 Once y/n got both of her little ones changed as well as herself cleaned up and changed for the day, she took them back downstairs where their father was sitting on the couch glancing between his phone and the tv screen as he shoveled some cereal into his mouth.

Alfie made a b-line for his dad, excited to show him the outfit his mother had dressed him in for the day.

“Daddy! Daddy look! I got clothes on, mummy says I look handsome! Look I got turtles on my socks, daddy look!”  the little boy was over the moon about his clothes. Y/n had chosen some toddler size sweatpants, Alfies favorite t-shirt- a Gucci one Harry had got him which his wife thought was insane to dress a messy 3 year old in a 250 pound shirt, but their son loved it because his father wore the same brand- and some socks with little turtles as the print on them. It was going to be a pretty chill day at home so there was no need for fancy clothes.

“Oh my gosh! Bud you look very handsome, look at my dapper boy! Gimme five, big guy” Harry held his palm in the air, his son jumping to smack his much smaller one to his fathers, beaming from all the praise he’d gotten from his doting parents.

When Harry looked over at his wife holding his daughter his smile got even bigger. There stood his beautiful bride, clad in a pair of his black socks she liked to steal, some comfy adidas sweats and a t-shirt Harry had given her years ago. Her hair was in a sloppy bun, lips slightly shiny with some lip balm and only one earring in since Rosie had snatched the other stud from her right ear and tossed it somewhere Y/n too caught up in her children to even remember to take the second one out even after 2 weeks going by now.

His daughter was in a yellow polka dot onesie and her hair was in a little whale spout on the top of her head. His girl’s looked stunning in even the simplest of clothes, they were his angels and he adored them.

“And look at you girls! Little red head, you look dashing in that onesie! Red carpet ready my girl. And you miss yummy mummy, are stunning today. C’mere I want kisses from my ladies don’t be stingy.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at her husband, even when she looked like she lived in a alley behind a gas station he still made a point to make her feel beautiful. Of course, she adored the way her husband talked to their baby girl too, they had a long talk while she was pregnant with her where Harry vowed to always build up their daughter from infancy till the day he died. No matter how old she is, what she was wearing, if she was covered in gunk from the sandbox or in her future prom dress, he promised to always let her know she was beautiful and loved. Harry never wanted his kids to feel any less than supported, validated and loved.

 It was around 1 in the afternoon when Rosie woke up from her first nap, nursing while Y/n and Harry sat together on the couch playing with Alfie and his blocks. The family had a quick bite to eat, hanging out just enjoying each other’s company. Y/n handed their daughter to Harry for him to burp her so she could refill Alfie’s sippy cup and grab both her and Harry some water.

After distributing the beverages she sat on the floor, playing with both her kids and holding Rosie up by her hands so she could dance around in her mothers grip. She loved to dance, she was always on the move crawling full speed everywhere and always squirming whenever she heard her fathers music.

Today the little girl had more in store for her parents, taking them both of them by surprise when she hoisted herself up to cruse holding onto the couch before looking right at her mother suddenly taking her first steps towards her.

Harry and Y/n both gasped, eyes wide and mouths showing huge grins while starting to cheer their baby on waving their hands and praising her whilst the baby took wobbly steps to her mom flopping into her chest before she was lifted in the air and spun around, excited cheers from the entire family as they celebrated her milestone.

“You’re walkin’ now Rosie! My big girl! Oh my gosh I’m so proud of you princess!”

Y/n tossed her into the air gently, catching her then setting her back on her feet letting her walk to her dad who was now in full blown celebration mode hands waving in the air while he cheered. His little girl toddled towards him, squealing as he scooped her up and kissed all over her face.

These were the moments he dreamed about his whole life, and he swears the dream didn’t even compare to the reality now. He’s never been happier.