#with them utterly content and happy and married with a child on the way

[stardustinthesky]

patrick jane and teresa lisbon ⤻ white orchids

[rainynightwrites]

pretty please - d.m.

cw: 18+ content mdni. cockwarming. pregnant!reader. sub!draco. lactation kink (mentioned in future tense). mommy kink. p in v. dacryphilia. choking. orgasm denial (kinda?). creampie. established relationship (married). not proofread. ᯓᡣ𐭩

wc: 1.4k

masterlists

when you’d first told draco you were pregnant he didn’t believe you, hell it took several of those strange muggle pregnancy stick things and a trip to st. mungo’s and be told by an actual healer that yes, you were indeed pregnant.

you were his girl carrying his baby. his baby… oh god. draco didn’t know the slightest thing about how to be a father, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try his hardest. be the best possible father he could be for you and your child. he never wanted you to worry.

draco couldn’t decide if he wanted to look at the prominent bump now adorning your belly or your full breasts. they’re bigger now. he was happy with the size of them before, he always thought they were perfect. but now they were a little bigger and your nipples had started becoming more pronounced too. they were constantly straining against whatever piece of clothing you had over them, like they were just testing him.

consciously, draco knew that you’d start lactating after you gave birth. he tried not to think much of it because it made him nearly cum at just the thought. he probably would cum in his trousers the first time he sees it.

as your belly grew over the course of the pregnancy you and draco still tried to have an active sex life. it took a while to find what worked and what didn’t, especially with your belly in the way. neither of you dared to do anything too strenuous, though.

eventually you and draco found a position you both liked and that was what you always did, like tonight. it’s easy to do anywhere that draco is sitting.

tonight you two were just planning to watch a movie and that was it… until you reached over him for your water bottle and grazed his crotch with your knuckles. the whimper that filled the air around you was enough to convince you that you needed to hear more. you’ve been teasing him through his boxers for the last half hour.

you wanted to hear those gorgeous whimpers and whines. the pleas and the begging. oh how he begged so prettily. like his life depended on it.

“darling, please, i can’t ah-.” draco’s words were so soft, so shaky. he could barely form a sentence and you hadn’t even got his dick inside you yet— or even properly stroking him for that matter.

“mh what is it you want?” you asked as you let go of his cock in favor of straddling his lap. your panties discarded to the floor. your belly was keeping you from being as close to him as physically possible.

draco whined again as your soaked core hovered just above his aching cock. he swears he could feel the heat emanating from it. his hands were on you in an instant. one cradling the curve of your belly, the other going to gently palm your breast, thumbing over your peaked nipple.

“do you have any idea how beautiful you are? pregnancy is so becoming of you. i didn’t think it were possible for you to be more attractive.” he was utterly mesmerized by you. he always was, but now it had increased tenfold. his lips were parted and his eyebrows creased as he looked you over— as if he doesn’t do it daily. he was concentrating, committing all of you to memory.

you took the time to quickly position the weeping head of his cock at your entrance and you sank down on it fully in one go.

“sweetheart! ah-hah f-fuck!” draco’s eyes snapped up to meet yours and his breathing became erratic. it took every shred of self control not to thrust up into your sweet cunt or cum then and there.

“does that feel good?” you whispered as you scraped your nails down his abs. the way he was panting and looking up at you with tears already shining in the corner of his eyes was so pathetic, but you’d be damned if you didn’t admit you loved it.

“s-so good, darling. nhh- fuck. can i move? please, tell me i can move.”

“no.” your answer was immediate and your tone left no room for argument. “you’re going to sit here and let me just…feel.”

draco mewled in response. you know that was what he didn’t want to hear. but he also couldn’t say no to you. “please, darling i don’t know how long i can last, i’m so wound up ah-“

you tsked as you shook your head, “dray, i said no. you wanna be a good boy for mommy, right?” you rolled your hips as a little torment. you knew you were squeezing his cock impossibly tight, but you wanted to hear him beg, see him break apart for you.

“m-mommy! nghh- please! i-…” he begged as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. gods he was so pretty. so very pathetic, but so fucking pretty.

before you’d married draco he never was submissive and then it was like a switch flipped inside him one day. you weren’t complaining though, because the first time he begged and the pet name ‘mommy’ fell from his lips it was all you could think about. this was how draco let go, it was how he coped, how he dealt with all the craziness in his life. he could just simply be. you loved seeing him this way, and you’d never take such bliss from him.

draco’s hips thrust up one time, and that was all it took for you to become more dominant. your hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed. you didn’t even have a chance to reprimand him before he started apologizing.

“f-fuck. i’m sorry, mommy. i’m s-so sorry. i didn’t mean- you just- nhh. you feel too good.” he babbled like the mess he was. you knew draco hated cockwarming, but he loved pleasing you, and he couldn’t really complain when his cock was buried in your pussy.

“be a good boy and i’ll let you cum soon, ‘kay?” you cooed gently, in a much nicer tone than you’d typically use. this was all a lot nicer than you’d usually be, but with your pregnant belly you didn’t want to chance anything.

draco whimpered and whined. his hands resting on your thighs, his fingers flexing as he willed himself not to dig his fingers into your skin and squeeze. “i’m trying!” his voice was strained with desire, longing. “f-fuck!”

you smirk at the tone of his voice. the whines. the desperation. you lean back a little bit as you let go of his throat, that hand going to rest on your bump. draco was panting, he was helpless, but his eyes zeroed in on your belly again. he still couldn’t believe you were carrying his child. and right now, with how wound he was, his emotions were running high.

you saw more tears gather in his eyes, poor boy. you couldn’t stop the chuckle that left your lips, “you’re so pathetic sometimes, draco, but you look so good like this,” you punctuate your words by clenching purposely around his cock making him keen as several more tears slid down his cheeks.

“please,” he choked out softly, he was utterly gone, such a mess. a beautiful fucking mess. all for you.

you cradled his face in your hands, gently wiping the tears away before leaning in to plant light kisses on the corners of his mouth. “you’re such a good boy. cum, draco. cum for me. let me feel you let go.”

you rolled your hips slowly, but that was all either of you needed. draco came within seconds of your permission. muttering ‘thank yous’ and ‘i love yous’ as he spilled his warm cum deep inside your pussy. your orgasm followed shortly after, massaging his cock throughly as your walls rippled around him.

you both sat there panting, draco looked boneless beneath you, utterly spent from the sheer restraint of not coming the second he was inside you. his hands shakily came to rest on your stomach again, gently rubbing the curve of it with his thumbs. you made no move to get off his lap, or slide his softening cock out of you either.

a few minutes pass and you could see the look in draco’s eyes, it meant he didn’t want to be done, at least, not yet. “‘nother round?” you asked softly.

he nodded almost imperceptibly but one of his hands slid from the curve of your belly down to your soaked cunt and he circled your clit with your thumb.

“mhm, good boy.”

⊹₊⟡⋆ thanks for reading. ⊹₊⟡⋆

tags: @nottsangel @honeyandlore @nanami1slut

© rainynightwrites 2025. please do not copy/repost elsewhere, translate or claim any of my writing.

[lathalea]

Fili-🍒 arranged marriage. Ty for thinking of me for this. I think this will be fun. Lol

Hi @lilith15000 😊 Hope you're well! Here is a little something for you to read during a long shift 💛 Sorry it took me so long - life happened. But now - prepare for a long read!

🍒 - Stuck Together with Fili - Arranged Marriage

Your life in the Iron Hills made you quite content. Working as a healer was exactly what you wanted: helping others to regain their health and seeing smiles on their faces was a reward in itself, even if it often meant spending exhausting, sleepless nights by the bed of a feverish patient or a future mother in labor. This was your true calling and you couldn’t imagine a different life for yourself. 

It all changed when your grandparents, a very influential and revered couple, informed you that they found a perfect husband for you. Yes, you were going to be married. Your parents and all the other members of your family were thrilled, except for you. Marriage was definitely not a part of your plan for the future and you informed everyone very clearly that you weren’t interested in that idea at all. 

Your grandparents reminded you that you were a member of one of the oldest and most respectable dwarven houses of the Iron Hills and your duty was to your family, first and foremost. Being the only child, you had to make sure that your line remained unbroken. As an important member of Dain Ironfoot’s council, your grandmother achieved something nearly impossible: she secured a match with a member of the royal house of Erebor and that meant even more influence and higher status for your family. The King Under the Mountain himself approved of the idea.

You interrupted them, exclaiming that you wouldn’t marry anyone, not even if he was some distant relation of the king of Erebor. You were devoted to your work and wanted to be a healer, not some utterly boring lady wearing fancy and uncomfortable dresses every single day. You were a person, an individual and not a piece of meat to be traded for titles and gold.

That was when your grandfather informed you that he expected you to honor the family tradition. Both his marriage and your parents’ marriage were arranged and both couples found love and respect anyway. Looking at him, you had to admit to yourself that he was right - you adored the way your grandfather cared for your grandmother (and vice versa) and the way your parents liked to hold hands and steal kisses whenever they thought no one was looking, even after all those years of marriage. Your grandfather revealed that you weren’t to marry a distant relation of the king. You were expected to wed the Crown Prince Fili himself, the heir to the throne of the greatest dwarven kingdom on Arda. Erebor. That meant that your children (if Mahal would bless you with them) would become kings or queens. That was something even you hadn’t expected. Becoming the future Queen of Erebor...

You huffed, you groaned, you stomped… and then you walked out of the room, slamming the door behind you. You were not leaving your patients, your family, and your home just because of your grandparents’ ambitions.

Weeks passed and every single day felt like your own personal hell. Every member of your family tried to convince you to change your mind while everyone you knew started congratulating you on your upcoming wedding. Apparently the news somehow spread throughout the Iron Hills (you blamed one of your great-aunts and her talent for gossip). And if it wasn’t bad enough, one day you received a very polite, very formal and very stiff letter from your intended. The Crown Prince Fili wrote how happy he was to see you soon in Erebor after your arrival for the wedding. He wanted you to know how honored he was and how he would be a respectful husband to a great and beautiful lady as you, yadda yadda yadda. You tore his letter into pieces and burned it.

A week later, a second letter came. It was very similar to the first one. Prince Fili expressed his worry because he hadn’t received any reply and assumed his letter had been lost on the way. You left the boring letter on your desk and went to a tavern to have some fun and forget about this whole misery. You met Thorin Stonehelm there, Dain Ironfoot’s son and one of your good friends. After having a few drinks, you started carefully asking him about Fili. They were cousins and knew each other well.  Thorin told you many tales about countless drunk knife throwing contests he had with his cousins every time he visited Erebor and mentioned how the ladies oohed and aahed every time they saw Fili. The rumor had it, he was a great kisser too, as the ladies claimed, your friend said, winking at you with a grin.

“Ye’ll be happy with him, lass, I’m sure!” He added confidently.

You grunted and drank more. No way you were going to marry some amateur of sharp blades, a showoff, a drunk and a skirt chaser. Over your dead body! He was one of those irresponsible people who caused harm to others. Plenty of times you had patients who needed to be stitched because of people waving their weapons around just like the reckless prince.

You woke up with a huge hangover on the next day. It was when your own mother betrayed you, or so you thought. As you lay on your bed, your face green, the room spinning, she brought you a glass of water and some herbs to make you feel better… and then hinted at the letter you received, explaining how important it was that you responded to it. According to her, your future happiness depended on it!  She, of course, felt Prince Fili would be a good match for you. You felt pukish.

In a moment of weakness, you agreed to reply to his letter just to make her stop talking.

Being an obedient daughter, you did as you promised. You replied to that cursed letter and sent it with a raven, grinning as the bird flew off. Your letter was full of thinly veiled insults, rude phrases and venom-infused sentences. You explained to prince Fili that you loved your work as a healer, you didn’t wish to marry him, ordered him to leave you alone, and find himself another wife. Your plan was perfect. As soon as he’d receive the letter, he’d feel deeply offended and break off the engagement immediately.

But it didn’t happen. A reply came from him very soon. Crown Prince Fili wrote in angry words that he didn’t wish to marry either, he had led a happy life until this marriage idea, and a wife was the last thing he needed. A mean termagant like you wasn’t his ideal of a meek, sweet and obedient wife. He wrote that you were free to go into Morgoth’s fires and never come back for all he cared. He’d rather marry some pointy-eared tree-hugger than you!

You were furious. How dare he even compare you to a sickly thin, willowy Elf-maid with a pathetic excuse for hair, not mentioning the lack of sideburns or a proper beard? Disgusting. You were a beautiful, sturdy Dwarf-woman with long, flowing hair and your braids made many a Dwarf of any gender sigh with admiration. You poured all your anger into the letter addressed to that stupid excuse of a prince. Plus, you added that if you ever were to marry (in his dreams!), your husband would be a respectful, honorable and brave warrior who wouldn’t hide behind pieces of parchment, and it certainly would not be a drunk lecher like him.

This exchange of hate mail continued for weeks and the prince didn’t seem to stop writing nor cancelling that stupid idea of a marriage. In the meantime, your grandmother, your mother and your aunts worked on the wedding preparations even though every day you told them to stop because you were not marrying anyone. They just nodded, patted your shoulder and carried on.

You kept repeating that you won’t marry anyone while you mounted your pony and rode with your family to Erebor. You said it again when you arrived at the Lonely Mountain. You. Were. Not. Marrying. Anyone.

And then you saw the prince. Fili. Whoah.

Unfortunately, he was even more handsome than everyone said. What’s worse, you noticed that he had dimples when he smiled. You happened to have a very soft spot for dimples and golden-haired Dwarves… That was so unfair. You were determined to act in the most horrible manner towards him and not ogle him at all. You knew him all to well from your letters.

During the official meetings you had to act like a proper lady, of course. You didn’t want to disgrace your family. But whenever you met Prince Fili alone in the long corridors of Erebor, in passing, you did everything you could to be the meanest termagant he’d ever met, just like he wanted. Unfortunately, you never seemed to manage to annoy him. Whatever stinging remark you fired at him, he would bow, wish you a good day and walk away. What an annoying dwarf! What happened to the rudeness he showed in his letters?

And then your families thought it would be a good idea to make you and Prince Fili meet in private, just the two of you, and know each other a bit better. It was supposed to be a romantic candlelight dinner. You wanted to puke at the thought of spending an evening in the company of this irritating himbo of a Dwarf, but you had to do it, because families, duty, traditions, honor, blah, blah, blah, all the boring stuff. 

As you arrived for the dinner, prince Fili was already there, dressed in very fine clothes (much more comfortable than the very fancy and very uncomfortable dress you we  re forced to wear). A chaperone was present as well, to make sure nothing improper would happen. You ate the dinner in silence, exchanging polite and insincere remarks from time to time. It was one of the most boring and pointless dinners in your life. So what his eyes were like sapphires and his hair glistened like spun gold in candlelight? His looks wouldn’t make him a good husband, and besides you weren’t marrying anyone anyway.

The chaperone had to leave for a moment. As the door closed behind her, you turned to Fili as he drank his wine, offending him left and right, mocking his drinking habit, his showoff attitude at the training grounds when he took part in a warriors’ tournament and happened to win (you told him that he was a pathetic warrior, fighting with double blades and moving swiftly as a lightning, you could bet it was all rehearsed earlier!), and so on, and so forth. In your eyes, he was a pampered, spoiled prince who hadn’t even seen a real battle in his life (not that you did, but that was another matter, you were saving lives, not taking them!).

In return, Fili just looked at you with an intriguing smile on his lips and counterattacked in a surprising way, saying, “Do you know how beautiful you look when you’re angry?”

AAAARGHHHH!!! He was INFURIATING! Impossible! Horrible! And then he dared to wink at you!

You were about to stand up and shout at him, outraged by his behaviour, but then the chaperone returned and so you had to pretend you were a proper lady again. Ugh.

Trying to forget how Fili’s eyes flickered as he thanked you for the evening, wished you sweet dreams, and kissed your hand courteously wasn’t the worst of it all. Your family was invited for a customary tour of Erebor accompanied by Lord Balin and, among other places, you went to see the forges.

The forges of Erebor were a very interesting place. Sweaty, shirtless dwarves, yum! There was one among them who caught your eye. Or rather, his broad, powerful back did, as the Dwarf worked facing his anvil, a large hammer in his hand. His blond hair was gathered in a bun. His muscles played under his glistening tattooed skin.

And then Lord Balin approached him, saying a few words. The Dwarf turned towards you and…

It was Fili. Of course. And his bare chest was even more impressive than his back. And those tattoos! Somehow, you found yourself at a loss for words and quickly turned away so he couldn’t see how you… Nevermind, you weren’t marrying him anyway.

You avoided meeting Fili as much as you could since that day. Just to be on the safe side. It would be best if you could forget the way he looked in those forges or the way he smiled at you mischievously, and those dimples… But somehow you couldn’t.

One evening after a lengthy feast organized to celebrate the upcoming joining of your families (which was NOT going to happen!), during which you tried to ignore Fili as much as you could, you finally returned to your rooms and found a little bouquet of pink, sweet-smelling wildflowers on your desk. In the morning, you thanked the maid for this gesture and complimented the flowers. To your surprise, the maid didn’t know what you were talking about. She swore she hadn’t brought them and didn’t know who did.

It repeated from time to time. Sometimes, you would find these pink flowers by your plate when you arrived at yet another feast. Sometimes, your pony’s mane was adorned with the same flowers when you wanted to go for a ride. Other times, you would find the flowers at your doorstep or in a recently delivered parcel. You did all you could to figure out who was behind it, but you didn’t find any clues, besides your maid giggling every time you found another bouquet of pink flowers from your “secret admirer” as she put it. The notion was ridiculous, of course. As far as you knew, there were no dwarves interested in you and you weren’t interested in anyone. But it felt good to know that there was someone who knew how to treat a lady, unlike that arrogant, cocky prince.

You were so busy trying to find your “secret admirer” that you haven’t noticed that the day of the wedding came. You weren’t marrying anyone, that was out of the question! You wanted to be left alone to do what you wanted in life; helping people. To show that you meant it, you threw a spectacular fake tantrum, chasing away all the maids who tried to soothe “your poor nerves”. That is when your father came to you and had yet another talk with you about duty, honor and tradition, the usual boring stuff. He also said that the marriage contract that you were about to sign contained a certain clause. If it turned out that you and your future husband were too different and unable to live together, the marriage could be annulled. But first, you had to spend six months together, making an effort to live as a married couple. You reluctantly agreed to this condition. It would be an honorable way out for you. It was clear that after you unleashed the full power of your temper on the prince, he’d beg you for a way out of this torment and then you’d be free again.

You questioned your good judgement on your wedding night. As a married couple, you and Fili were given new chambers with several spacious rooms and ONE bedroom with ONE bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed in your sleeping gown, you were waiting for him to come. Your lips still tingled from the feather-like mandatory kiss Fili gave you at the wedding anvil as you became a married couple. But the hour was growing late and he wasn’t coming. Surely, he wasn’t offended by the little monologue you gave him as you left the guests for the night, informing Fili that you never wished for this marriage to succeed and wanted to be done with it quickly so you could return home to your work and do useful things instead of parading in silly dresses.

Fili wasn’t coming. And it was supposed to be your wedding night, he had to be there! Because of the tradition, of course. It was certainly not that you wanted company in that huge, beautifully carved bed. At least, not his company. Your secret admirer surely would know how to fulfil your wishes and make you feel comfortable.

You stormed out of the bedroom, outraged, searching for Fili. He had to at least appear that he spent a night with you, that was the tradition! Yes, exactly. That was what you were after. Tradition. You were just doing what your father asked you to. Nothing more.

You found Fili in his study, sleeping on a settee. He looked so peaceful and relaxed that you stood there for a few moments, looking at his face, a soft smile playing on his lips. He looked so different from the arrogant, spoiled prince you saw every day. But you also noticed the shadows under his eyes. Was he not sleeping well? Was this why he fell asleep so early instead of coming to your shared bedroom? Without a thought, you covered him with a blanket and wanted to leave as quietly as you could, but his eyes suddenly opened, and he grabbed your hand. And his lips were somehow really close to yours. And really inviting.

None of you dared to move. You even didn’t dare to breathe. When your gazes met, it was as if a spark traveled through your body. And then it all got really awkward. You weren’t about to kiss him, were you?!  You mumbled your apologies, he mumbled his apologies, and then you left his study veeeeery quickly. You hid in your own study until the morning, not daring to enter the bedroom and check whether he was there. To be on the safe side, you woke up very early and wanted to leave your study, so no one would suspect you haven’t spent the night together, but your maid was there first and she looked very surprised at you not being in the bedroom with your new husband.

Fili was already there, along with his and your family, and you both were targeted by cheeky remarks about your wedding night and lots of wishes of happiness. You nodded with a fake smile and Fili did the same. Oh, and there were the flowers by your breakfast plate. Your admirer was becoming really bold, you were a married woman now!

After breakfast, Dis, Fili’s mother, wanted to have a word with you. She voiced her concern about you and Fili not spending the night together – the maids were already talking. You expected her to be as rude as her son in his letters, but she actually was… nice and understanding. She told you that she understood that you may have been nervous because she was too before her wedding night, and that she was there for you if you needed her. “Sometimes these things take time,” she said.

You managed to find Fili and have a little chat with him. It was all extremely awkward after last night, but you knew you had to do something. Soon, everyone would start talking about you not sleeping together in the same bedroom as a husband and wife should and the last thing you wanted was anyone to blame you for this marriage’s fiasko. It was Fili who was supposed to get to know you more, hate you, and break it off. This way you and your family could honorably return home.

You agreed to sleep in the same room at nights to stop the gossip and so the next night Fili slept in an armchair by the bed you slept in. Of course you made it clear that he shouldn’t count on anything – it was just for show. There were no thoughts in your brain about how it would feel to sleep in his arms. None whatsoever.

You had problems falling asleep with Fili around and it seemed he felt the same. The snide remarks you threw at each other, blaming each ither for this whole stupid situation, somehow turned into a quiet conversation. It was easier to talk in darkness. Hours passed, you talked, and you started to see that perhaps there is more of Fili beneath his arrogant exterior. You didn’t remember how you fell asleep.

You woke up at dawn, hearing the door creak open. The maid quietly came in to stoke the fire and open the curtains. You had really nice dreams and you wanted to get back to them. You felt so warm and comfortable, and there was a pair of strong arms wrapped around you.

WHAT?! “It is only me,” Fili whispered into your ear. You stiffened but did nothing, waiting for the maid to leave. When she did, he let go of you and explained that he needed to keep the appearances when he heard the maid coming in. If she saw him sleeping in that armchair, the gossip would have continued. You were ready to breathe fire at him and you told him what you thought of embracing women while they slept without their consent, but secretly you had to admit that it was a close call. You didn’t need a scandal. Besides, being embraced by him wasn’t completely awful.

And that’s how the first weeks of your marriage passed. During the day you played the perfect couple, Fili was very courteous and it was very hard to ignore the flips your heart made when he took you arm as you walked together to the throne room or when he gave you compliments where everyone was present. You couldn’t not notice that mysterious glint in his eye as he said them. It was growing more and more difficult to keep your resolve, especially after you agreed that in order to keep up the appearances, it would be best if you actually shared your spacious bed. You saw how uncomfortable sleeping on the armchair must have been to him. Maybe you were a mean termagant, but you weren’t a heartless one. And you we’re only sleeping next to each other, nothing more. Besides, waking up next to him felt rather… nice, even if he snored sometimes. To make yourself feel better, you tried to find reasons to quarrel with Fili whenever you could. You expected him to be tired with you soon and send you back home.

The pink flowers kept on appearing out of nowhere every day, so you decided to investigate the matter. It was difficult to catch the culprit, you tried to find them, but they seemed like a ghost. Once you tried to find how they found their way to your breakfast plate, you snuck out early just to see that they were already there. 

One day you came to the stable a bit earlier than usual, planning to go for a ride and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Fili was there, taking care of your pony and plaiting the pink flowers into its dark mane. What was he doing there?! How dare he! The flowers? Him?! Why?!

You confronted him at once and accused him of playing a long prank on you, making you think that you had a secret admirer! Outrageous! Your shouts were probably heard far away, but you were really angry. It was one thing to imagine you had a secret, shy, and courteous admirer, and completely another to see that it was Fili! Making fun of you! You wanted to throw him into a pile of dung!

And then he took your hands in his and said, “Tell me, how else was I supposed to show the lady who despises me that I admire her?” “But you said I were a mean termagant! And you didn’t want to marry either!” you protested. “This is true, but then I saw you, I got to know you and admire your fierce character,” Fili smiled at you. “Didn’t you say you wanted a meek and obedient wife?” you gasped. “I would die of boredom with one. But with you, every day is a challenge and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you heard Fili say with a sudden softness in his eyes. “I need a feisty wife, if she will have me.”

It took you a while to gather your thoughts, but then you simply said: “Stop talking and kiss me, you arrogant prince!” “You really are a mean termagant, you know that, right?” Fili chuckled. “Shhhh!” you interrupted him and then your lips met, and none of you felt like saying anything for a very long time.

Kissing your husband was definitely going to be one of your favorite pastimes. Perhaps being married wasn’t that bad after all…?

💨💨 Imagine Ask Game rules (asks closed) 💨💨

Tagging @laurfilijames and @guardianofrivendell for Very Important Golden Lion Reasons 💛

[wormstacheangel]

Happy Birthday, Bec ( @chocolatecakecas)! Have some momma Dean and Daddy Cas get together :)

wc: 2.5k

Dean holds the preschool’s scrunched-up flyer in his hand before letting out a heavy sigh. He never thought he would ever celebrate Mother’s Day again, and he especially never thought that he would be the mother who would be celebrated.

He begged Cas not to make him do this, but it wasn’t Cas who he was afraid to disappoint.

Dean stuffed the paper back into his pocket before walking over to the front office to check-in for this Muffin with Mom event. He talked to the school beforehand to check if it was okay for him to show up to this event, but they already knew he was ‘Momma’ to Jack, so they saw it coming. Of course, they did but Dean sure as fuck didn’t.

He walks into the office and follows the signs that lead outside to the big grass area that transformed from a play area to a nicely decorated picnic area. Everything was pink, from the flowers to the plastic table cloths, but it didn’t feel too overwhelming because they were outside. His eyes spotted the small photo op area, and he couldn’t wait to get some cute pictures of him and Jack so Cas can add to his album.

At least that would be worth the embarrassment.

Dean joined some of the familiar faces of the sea of ladies that crowded the classroom doors—waiting for the kids to be let loose and get this party finally started. He smiles and waves at them, knowing them from pick up and playdate parties at their homes.

Dean and Cas know they can never host one at their home in the lakehouse cause while the outside has invisible warding, the inside looked like a crazy person lived in there. It was a heavily warded place that hides them for a good few miles to any supernatural monster— angels included, so it’s a good thing Cas knows how to use google maps or he would always skip their street— but the inside Jack was free to let his wings out and practice his powers.

“Okay!” He looks up to see Jack’s classroom open up. “Go find your Moms!”

He walks closer, seeing little rugrats running past him, and crouches until he meets the gaze of his little angel. “Hiya, bud!”

“Momma!” Jack shouts as he sprints to him and then jumps into Dean’s arms, almost knocking him back with his strength. Jack snuggles into Dean’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around his neck, staying locked in place as Dean stands up.

“Why are you surprised? Told you I was gonna come.” Dean rubs his hand up and down his back as they follow the group of moms to line up for the food. Other classes start to open up, and Dean at least wanted something to damn snack on while he’s here.

“I know.” Jack pulls back and presses Dean’s cheeks together with his little hands, and luckily with none of his strength. “I was just scared.”

“Why?” Dean asks with puckered lips.

“Cause,” Jack sighs before leaning back down to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. His tiny fist is holding the collar of his jacket in a tight grip. “I know you’re not a Momma like the other Momma’s.”

Dean’s stomach drops at the words.

He quickly got out of line and went inside his now empty classroom so they can talk. Dean hates these tiny chairs, but he sat down anyway, hoping it won’t break from under him, before pulling Jack away to face him.

“Jack,” He was stubborn, but a little tickling always did the trick. Dean takes Jack’s face in between his hands so he would look at him. “I am not like the other Momma’s, but I am still yours. That’s why I’m here, right?”

Jack nods, a small smile on his face that was a carbon copy of Cas’s own.

“I better be, cause I heard you owe me a muffin!” Dean leans forward to gently bite Jack’s cheek, who giggles and screams while he pushed Dean away with child strength.

“Stop! Momma!” Jack laughs before Dean showers his face with kisses so that he could see the pout leave and a bright grin appear. One that made Dean love life so much more than he ever thought he could.

“Love you.” Dean places a final kiss on Jack’s nose. Only for Jack to copy him and repeat, “Love you.”

They went back outside and had to go to the back of the line, but with Jack in his arms, he was perfectly content. He loves hearing his little four-year-old ramble on while telling a story.

When they got their food—a muffin and some damn apple juice, he’s going to have to take Jack to lunch after this—they went to sit at a crowded table that was calling for Dean to join them. Usually, everyone enjoys Cas’s company a lot more than his, but right now, they had Dean to play with, and he didn’t mind getting the attention of all the milf’s in school.

He sat down in the middle of the table with Jack on his lap so Dean can make sure his kid at least eats a bit of the muffin before running around with the rest of his friends. The whole mommy and me event just became a big chance for mommy’s to gossip, and he couldn’t help but wanna be a part of it.

They were all talking about a Mom who didn’t show up and instead sent the babysitter when Jack finally got inpatient and ran off to play with his friends. When Jack was out of earshot, all eyes fell on Dean when he stuffed almost half a muffin in his mouth. He looks at them with raised eyebrows, asking them a silent, “What?” as their smiles spelled trouble for Dean.

“We heard from the secretary that you and Castiel aren’t together...together.” Liz whispers the last word as she leaned closer to him.

“That’s not a secret.” Dean swallows the rest of the muffin and finishes off the apple juice. “Cas and me are friends.”

“Really?” Carmen sat back in her chair, looking as if the universe didn’t make sense anymore. All eyes fell on Liz again, as if she was chosen to be the ring leader to ask all these questions.

“But you guys talk about each other like—I was gonna say like I talk about my husband, but that’s not true. I complain more than anything, but you two are always--you’re like a team. Like an actual team! And the way--the way you look at each other!”

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat, feeling his face heat up. “I don’t know what you are getting at, but Cas and I are best friends. We’re just raising his kid together. My brother helps too. It’s not-It’s just not like that with us.”

“But, do you want it to be?” Carmen leans in again, and Dean looks around at the milf’s that thought Cas and him were a married couple. “Cause it kinda looks like you want it to be.”

Dean opened his mouth to answer defensively cause, of course, he didn’t. He was perfectly fine living his domestic life with Cas and Jack. Maybe they were not a traditional family, but there was no damn way they would ever be with ⅔ of the family being celestial beings. Still, going to bed alone was getting harder each night. The longing stares have become heavier, and all the missed opportunities were starting to weigh on him.

He wanted so much more, but how can he ask for that when this is already the happiest he has ever been and the happiest he has ever seen Cas. He can’t risk making it awkward by expressing his feelings that may not be reciprocated. That’s fucking embarrassing for one, but Dean also didn’t want to risk losing the closest thing he has ever gotten to having a family of his own.

“It’s not that simple.” Dean finally groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. “Things are complicated between us.”

“Well, uncomplicate them!” Liz hits his arm to grab Dean’s attention before he falls back into his head.

“Mommy! Come watch me on the swings!” One of the kids call for them, and all the rest of the kids came running over, Jack included. But by the look of Jack’s face, Dean can tell the superhearing was working perfectly fine.

“Come here, bud.” Dean opens his arms, and while the rest of the mothers got up to watch their kid play, Jack stayed curled up in Dean’s arms as they finish their muffins together.

“Momma?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“We’re a real family, right?”

Dean presses a kiss to Jack’s hair. “Course we are, Jack. Me and your Daddy love you.”

“And you love each other?” He looks up at Dean with those same piercing blue eyes and curious look that he found so fond in Cas.

“Always have.” Dean quickly answers as he squeezes his kid. “Now eat so we can take some pictures.”

Dean ends up taking Jack home, with the preschool arts and crafts presents in the passenger seat, because maybe Dean does have to get his head out of his ass. Cause Dean knows Cas loves him. Was it the same kind of love Dean felt? Who knows? But they are going to find out.

“We’re just gonna pick up Daddy and go out to get some real food in you. Got it, bud?” Dean looks over at the rearview mirror to see a thumbs up and an excited grin.

“Got it, Momma!”

When Dean parks the car outside, he told Jack to wait in the car—the kid can turn on the car and play with the radio with his mind, he’ll be fine— while he went inside to tell Cas to get ready.

“I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he was in the house and then hears an “In here!” coming from the bathroom. He walks in to see Cas was under the bathroom sink, all the cleaning products spread around him, probably fixing that leak that was bothering him so much.

“Hey,” Dean kicks him gently to get his attention before crouching beside him. “Go get ready. I have Jack in the car; let’s go have some lunch.”

Cas scooted out from under the sink, and when he sat up, his face was only inches away from Dean’s own. He looked utterly unphased from being so close while Dean’s breath hitched at feeling Cas’s sigh touch his lips.

“I don’t even eat, Dean.” Cas wipes his hands on a towel before pushing himself up to stand. Dean took a shaky breath before he stands up too. “And why did you take Jack from school so early?”

Dean follows Cas out of the bathroom and into Cas’s bedroom, “You eat sometimes and cause I wanted to have some family time.” Dean sits at Cas’s bed as he watches the angel change into a clean shirt, his back muscles as beautiful as usual. “And I just, I think we should talk.”

Cas turns around to look at Dean with a curious head tilt. “About?”

Dean stood up to slowly walk over to Cas, not meeting his eyes, as he whispers, “Us.” Dean can see Cas start to look panic at the word, and before Cas could say anything, Dean leans forward to press his lips at the corner of Cas’s mouth. “I wanna know how you feel about us.”

Cas stood wide-eyed as Dean pulls away. He waits for an answer, but the angel was just staring at him with fingers twitching to reach and hold something. Dean took Cas’s hand and twined their fingers together; hopefully, that is what Cas wanted.

“I know we’re just playing pretend here,” Dean continues as he looks down at their hands. “But I’m tired of playing, Cas. I want, fuck okay, shit, I just-- I want to-I want,”

“Yes?” Cas leans in closer, urging Dean to continue, but Dean wasn’t sure he could, so he looks up to see Cas lick those soft lips.

He knows he wasn’t good at using his words, but he has always been good at showing, doing, so he lets out a quiet, “Fuck it.” Before letting actions speak.

His free hand went to the back of Cas’s neck to hold him as their lips crashed together. Dean knew Cas could pull away whenever he wanted with his angel strength, but he also knew Cas was letting Dean take the lead in this. Letting Dean push him up against the dresser and kiss him with panic but also so much love. Cause he loves him. He loves Cas. He was so fucking in love with him that it drove him crazy at times, but he couldn’t imagine doing this domestic life with anybody else.

“I love you.” Dean finally breaths against Cas’s lips. It overwhelmed him to finally have those words said aloud while Cas’s hands were burning his skin from under his shirt, but it also made him feel lighter. To say the words he wanted to scream. “I love you so much, Cas.”

Cas’s grip loosened for a second before it tightened, and Dean took that opportunity to open his eyes to look at him. To read the unreadable.

He leans back to see Cas’s baby blue’s water.

“Cas?”

Cas responds with a few blinks, tears falling freely now, as his expression softens at his name. “Yes?” One of Cas’s hands reached to slowly caress Dean’s face as if trying to see if this was real. If Dean was real.

“Kinda pouring my heart out here, buddy, maybe wanna respond?” Dean turns his head just enough to press a kiss to Cas’s palm, hearing Cas let out a small gasp.

“I’m confused. This morning you left telling me you were gonna kick my ass for sending you to the preschool, and now,” Cas leans forward, slowly and hesitantly, but Dean didn’t move. He closes his eyes and waits until their lips met again. Feeling his heart pound and breath catch as the kiss was softer this time. His head flooded with so much want, but Cas quickly pulls away as he continued, “And now I can do that.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes flutter open as he clears his throat. “Yeah, Momma had a little push from the milf’s this morning, and I just realized that I want— I want you. I want us to be together like a real family. Cause I love you and-and, it would be nice if you fucking said it back sometime soon.”

Cas laughs a low chuckle that made Dean’s toes curl as he leans forward again to press their noses together. “I love you too, Dean.”

“Took you long enough.” Dean was going in for another kiss, but the car horn made them both jump. “Shit, our kid still in the car.”

Dean leaves a kiss on Cas’s cheek, feeling more intimate than the last few kisses. “Get ready. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Dean didn’t meet Cas’s eyes as his blush rose to his cheeks.

Tag List: hello this is long enough to tag you guys :)

@tearsofgrace @nguyenxtrang @smiledean @chocolatecakecas

@blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @shelikestv @spicyspiess @icefire149

@archervale @starlightcastiel @sierraxnevada

@lexies-obsessions-and-memes @castiel-is-a-cat @slipper007

@belacoded @takemetotheworld @imlivingliferightnow

@celestialcastiel @manifestingdestiel @sinnabonka

@confusedisaster @wikiangela @carryonwaywardsquirrel

@my-people-skillls-are-rusty @thefaeriemagic3 @wigglebox

@im-sam-fucking-winchester @becky-srs @thefantasyfiend

@deanwinchesterstentaclefetish @achillestiel @sarahblakenatural

@likepurplemuses @marichankitty @castielkrushnic @bestiegirlboss

@martymar1963 @destielfactory @mjthehumandisaster

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @destielskygalaxypalace

@trasherasswood @s-r-clowns @eshaninjer

@readeroftheimmortalbooks

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Deception [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Deception Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 4.5k Published: 21 March 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Violet's constant search for a wife for her second eldest son has become too much for Benedict. The only escape he sees is to ask you to pretend to be courting each other. But how long will it work for with your feelings eating you up from the inside. Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​​

Square filled: Fake dating

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

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Benedict Bridgerton was a very capable man. He had a tremendous amount of talent in capturing the real beauty of the world in his drawings. He was confident, but still genuinely kind and caring for his loved ones. He also had a rather playful side to him, a somewhat child-like behaviour, one that the ton would not have appreciated in their society, but Benedict had the privilege to show his real personality to those who loved him, ones that never judged him for who he was.

However, there was one person he felt utterly useless around. When it came to you, he turned into an adorable mess, a clumsy one at that, even stuttering on occasions. Should you have known the reason for his unusual behaviour, it would have brought a rather large smile to your face, but Benedict dared not to reveal his feelings for you.

For someone who has been friends for so long, you both seemed to have found it hard to show your true feelings for one another, as though both of you were clueless. For Benedict it seemed you only spared as much attention to him as a friend would, whilst you thought he was merely looking out for you as a brother figure.

You sat in the ballroom, watching as he grimaced at his mother, who might have slightly forced her second oldest child to dance with one of the many stunning unwed ladies. The one he was forced to dance with however seemed to enjoy Benedict's company. He didn't talk, nor did he look at the woman, still she shined brighter than a diamond in his arms, proud to be so close to such a fine man.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you watched as he held his hand firmly on her back, leading her around the dance floor, making her giggle by just being close to her. Your heart ached at the thought of ever having to give up on him, at the thought of seeing him with another, someone he would choose to love, ignoring to see your longing gazes forgotten on him. How could he have seen, he never dared to look when he felt your eyes on him, nor did you dared to look when he forgot his on you.

Standing up from your chair, you walked towards the terrace, needing fresh air, trying to clear your thoughts as the slightly cool, windy weather stroked your cheeks. You knew you shouldn't have thought of him romantically, but you would have been a fool not to notice the handsome and caring man he has grown into. Watching Lady Bridgerton trying to find a wife to her son hurt both emotionally and physically and you couldn't wait for the season to end, to leave the balls and play-pretend behind you, running away from the inevitable.

"Help me!" you heard his desperate voice, but before you could have turned around, you felt his hand lock around your wrist, gently, but in a haste, dragging you after himself.

"Benedict, what are you doing?" you asked in confusion, trying to understand his chaotic behaviour as he pulled you along, passing corridors by corridors in the gigantic mansion.

"My mother," he sighed as he stopped his steps, breathing heavily. "My mother is becoming—" you waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have been stuck in his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" you asked, frowning at his frozen state, as though he couldn't find the words and his thoughts overruled his actions. You watched his hunched back as he fought to get enough air in his lungs, his eyes focused on a certain point on the marble flooring, completely out of the present. "Benedict!" you called him again, this time firmly, attempting to catch his attention.

"I know it!" he exclaimed, making you jump slightly at his unexpected enthusiasm as a rather wide smile spread across his face.

"What do you know exactly?" you inquired.

"It might sound foolish at first and I do not blame you if you think I have lost my mind, but I need your help," he explained, leaving you even more curious.

"What would I need to help you with?" you asked furrowing at the man as if he has forgotten to include you in his grand idea.

"My mother has been adamant in finding me a wife and there is only so much I can do to prevent her from continuing her crusade. I know I shouldn't ask you such a thing, but I can't possibly think of anyone else who I trust enough," he continued in a secretive manner.

"Benedict, you must be clearer. I don't understand what you wish for me to do," you attempted to push him to finally reveal his idea.

"I need my mother to stop searching for a wife and the only way I can do that is if I already found someone I am interested in," he started. "That is where I would need your help, if you agreed. Should you agree to pretend I am courting you, my mother would surely stop this nonsense and leave me alone," for a mere second you felt overwhelmed by the hope of his interest in you, but that was only until your brain processed his words. "Pretend" being the main focus of your attention, shattering the small shimmering light of hope within you.

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, attempting to hide your disappointment. "Surely you didn't think this through. Your mother isn't a fool, she would see through us immediately. You can't possibly think it's a good idea," you tried to reason with him, but instead of thinking it through again, he quickly shook his head.

"But it is. Think about it. You have said so yourself, you don't want to marry just yet and nor do I. It would be the perfect option for both of us, solving our issues," he added enthusiastically as if his idea was anything, but brilliant. He could clearly see the weary expression across your face as he stepped closer and reached for your hands, engulfing them in his large and warm palms. "We would only have to pretend for a short while, I promise," he tried to reassure you. Whilst you knew it was a foolish idea, the thought of being able to stay close to him even if for a short period of time, seemed to cloud your better judgement.

"For how long?" you asked looking up at him as a mischievous grin spread across his dashingly handsome face. One that you adored so much. "I wouldn't want to be a spinster, Benedict," you sighed heavily.

"I would never let that happen," he shook his head quickly, his previously playful smile long gone from his face. "Let us do it for a few weeks and we will see how my mother reacts. I'm sure if we work well together, you might even catch the attention of some very noble men too," he winked jokingly, trying to lift your dull mood.

You haven't had much time to contemplate, maybe a few seconds until you ran through all the options you have been provided with, which was basically none. You heaved a heavy sigh and shook your head, offering a sceptical look to Benedict. "Fine," you said, earning a surprised expression from him, your answer shocking him for a second, before he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, twirling you around happily.

"You are my saviour," he chuckled as he hinted a small kiss on your forehead, stopping himself as he realised what he had done. "I apologise, I didn't mean to—"

"I understand. You are simply happy I have agreed to such a scandalous idea," you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the happiness you felt. Even if for a short while, Benedict was to belong to you, and it meant more than you could have possibly expressed. You knew you couldn't have him forever but having him for a couple of weeks made you feel like the happiest person alive.

"I owe you! I didn't think you would agree," he grinned happily, a childish warmness radiating from his stance as though he had won a grand prize.

"I still don't understand why I did. Surely, I'm a fool," you added quickly with a silent chuckle.

"We both are," he replied as he started leading you back to the ballroom with your arm linked around his. His gaze focused on the way ahead, but your eyes were rather resting on his attractive features. He was a stunning man, and you were sure if he had turned to look at you, he would have seen the amount of love you were harbouring for him. But as many times before, no one of you has ever turned.

Weeks passed by and if anyone, Violet Bridgerton was the happiest person to see Benedict growing closer to the woman, you, she had envisioned beside her second eldest son. She has made it very clear that a wedding should soon be happening, wanting nothing but a little baby in her arms. You never wanted to crash her dreams but hearing her talking about a future between you and Benedict was beyond painful. The thought of you waking up beside Benedict, his arm resting across your waist, his neck hidden in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin made your heart ache, knowing it was impossible.

You stood in Somerset House, one arm hooked around Benedict's as he watched the paintings, his face focused on one particular art with dark colours and shadings, slightly depressing as if the artist tried to capture a horrible emotion. Art was always something that you found beautiful, but never really understood. When Benedict talked about the meaning behind each piece with a childish happiness across his face, it made you feel content. Although you didn't understand much of what he was saying, the adorable expression he wore was worth each and every moment you spent listening to him.

Looking at his handsome features as they relaxed into a content smile, made you mirror his expression. You couldn't look at him and not smile. As though his mere presence made you feel at ease.

"I feel your eyes on me," he chuckled with a mischievous smile, knowing that you have indeed been staring at him for the longest time.

"I'm sorry," you quickly turned away, feeling your cheeks and ears heat up in embarrassment. "I couldn't stop watching you. You were really focused on that painting and it seemed as though you were here physically, but not mentally. You unintentionally make this face when you enjoy a painting," you smiled shyly.

"A face?" he furrowed, not knowing of his own reaction.

"Yes, as if you were completely captured by the painting. You have a certain content smile across your face and even forget to blink at times," you giggled, placing your hand in front of your mouth, remembering his facial expression.

"Don't hide your smile," he said as he reached for your wrist and gently wrapped his fingers around your arm, pulling your hand away from your lips. "You are even more beautiful when you smile," for a second his words made you hope, as though he meant more than he let on. His eyes seemed as if they could see through you, reading each and every single thought that crossed your mind. For the shortest of time, it felt your feelings weren't as unrequited as you thought. However, you quickly had to remind yourself that your imagination was playing a painful game with you, one that would surely end in a heartbreak.

You quickly turned away, trying to shake those foolish thoughts away, before you decided to dwell on them any longer. Clearing your thoughts, you turned back to him with a phony smile across your face, biting your bottom lip to calm yourself. But his deep frown left you confused. "Are you okay?" you questioned as he tilted his head as if he was studying your face.

"You were biting your lips again," he replied. "You do that when you are nervous or feeling uncomfortable," he added, stunning you. Biting your lips was indeed a nervous habit of yours, one that you couldn't stop as it made you feel slightly at ease when you felt as if even your own thoughts betrayed you. You never thought Benedict even realised those irrelevant, minor details.

"I'm fine, Benedict," you tried to reassure him with a smile that you wore confidently but could not fool Benedict.

"Should you feel the need to talk, I'm here," he said, drawing tiny circles on the back of your arm that he was still securely holding onto, reassuring you that he was by your side whenever you were in need of him.

As happy as it made you, you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment as you thought about the heartbreak when he would finally want to end your foolish little game and find himself a wife that he could cherish forever, leaving you with the most horrible heartache one could cause.

You knew it was inevitable, you knew it would kill you, but you loved Benedict and you would have never forced him to stay beside you for any longer than he wanted to. You were ready to give him up, to be happy even if with someone else. The thought of letting him go hurt, but you weren't sure of your own strength either. Thinking about how long you could stay beside him pretending to be a mere friend left you with just as much pain, if not more. But you were ready to sacrifice your own happiness even if to be able to spend one more second with him.

Days passed by since your slightly awkward encounter in Somerset House. You have pretended to be a couple so in love that you couldn't possibly stay away from each other. Lady Whistledown didn't miss to write a paragraph or two about the two of you, already planning your wedding, one that you found slightly excessive, but dared not to mention to keep your act believable.

As much as you enjoyed the first few weeks of your play-pretend, it was hard to keep it up for long. You loved every minute you spent with Benedict, but the longer you were beside him, the more pain you felt. You wished to make him happy, to continue your act, but you also knew that it wasn't forever, and that tiny little thought suffocated you.

You sat on a bench in the park, right after promenading with Benedict. He joined his brothers whilst your maid brought you a glass of water to refresh yourself. You watched as Benedict laughed with his brothers, a wide, adorable and carefree smile sat across his face. Weeks ago, you would have smiled at his happiness, but then and there, sitting on the bench, watching his happy form, you felt miserable. Each time you looked at him, your stomach jumped nervously, your breath caught in your lungs as he touched your arm. These tiny little details meant nothing to him, but for you they meant the world. He couldn't have known the effects his advances left on you, he couldn't have predicted to hurt you unintentionally, but in the end, he unknowingly caused you pain.

Standing up from the bench, you started walking towards the Bridgerton brothers. Heaving a heavy sight, you lifted your arm and tapped Benedict's shoulder lightly, trying to catch his attention. He turned around with a wide smile, looking at you curiously. However, your face must have forgotten to oblige as his smile quickly disappeared and concern took over him.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he nodded to his brothers and reached for your hand, placing it on his arm, leading you away from his family.

"I must talk to you," you started, your voice unusually grim.

"Go ahead. You are worrying me," he added impatiently. Trying to collect your thoughts, you stopped, halting the man beside you whose worried eyes didn't seem to want to leave you for a mere second. "Talk to me," he attempted to reassure you.

"I am really sorry, but I can't possibly do this anymore," your words earned a confused frown from Benedict, before he finally understood what you meant. "I know I promised to help you and I wish I could have done it longer, but I honestly can't do this anymore," you added as you fought against your tears, trying to keep them in place for as long as you could. You couldn't let yourself cry in front of so many people, you couldn't let that happen. Benedict straightened himself in front of you, trying to hide your face from the curious eyes.

"I understand. I am sorry for forcing you to do this. I never thought it could be this hard on you. I would never hurt you, you know that, right?" he asked, trying to contain himself from wrapping his arms around you, fidgeting with his hands beside his thighs.

"I know and you didn't hurt me, it's not your fault. It has just become rather difficult recently and I don't think I'm capable of pretending anymore," you tried to reassure him, making him feel less guilty. "I'm still your friend and I will always be your friend," you added with a phoney smile. Your own words were a lie. You didn't know how long you could pretend to be his friend, but you knew he needed to hear that, he needed not to blame himself. "I will be going home now, but surely I will see you later," you smiled up at him as you curtsied and nodded towards your maid, ready to head home, completely oblivious to the pained gaze he was watching your slowly disappearing form with.

Whilst you sat in your carriage, letting your tears finally run down your cheeks, leaning on your maid's shoulder, Benedict stood confused between Colin and Anthony, his eyes fixed on the ground, his thoughts filled with you only.

"Brother?" Colin called for him with concern in his eyes. It was unusual to see his brother unresponsive, without a playful smile. "Are you alright?" he asked, earning a frown from Benedict.

"I shouldn't have dragged her into this," he replied, but his words were directed more to himself than his brothers.

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked, seemingly more interested in their conversation.

"It was all a lie," Benedict replied, his gaze still fixed on the carefully cut grass.

"What was a lie?" the eldest Bridgerton brother asked again.

"All along we were pretending to be courting, so mother would stop trying to force me to marry," he scoffed, finally understanding the weight of his idea. "She said she can't do this anymore. That it was too painful to bear," he shook his head, guilt overcoming him.

"You really are a fool," Anthony replied with a sceptical look across his face, earning a confused look from both Colin and Benedict.

"How do you mean? Is it because we have been pretending?" Benedict questioned his brother. "I know it was foolish, but she agreed, I didn't know it would be particularly hard on her," he added with a deep frown.

"Brother, can you not see the way she looks at you? Always trying to make you feel happy, bringing a smile to your face even when she, herself is struggling to do so? Are you really that blind?" Anthony raised a questioning brow, as though he couldn't believe how oblivious his brother was towards your feelings.

"Should I understand?" he asked tilting his head innocently, searching for the right explanation. "We have been friends from a very young age, I am certain we have always tried to make each other smile in a difficult situation," he added, earning an eye roll from the eldest Bridgerton brother, ignoring his manners.

"When you said you were courting her, I thought you finally realised that you weren't the only one with feelings beyond friendship. However, after hearing about this foolish idea of yours, forcing a lady to pretend to love you, when in fact she has feelings for you is beyond stupid, brother, and I'm quite disappointed in you for not realising it yourself," he shook his head disapprovingly.

"Are you telling me she has feelings for me?" Benedict asked in disbelief, his brother's words lighting a weak hope within him.

"Indeed, took you long enough to understand," he scoffed.

"I have to talk to her," Benedict added quickly, heading towards the carriages in haste, carefully planning all he needed to tell you.

The ride didn't take long, 20 minutes at most, before he stood in front of your house, his hands shaking slightly, nervousness running through his whole being. Knocking on the door, a maid opened it for him, asking him to wait to announce his arrival to you.

You laid on your bed, cheeks swollen from crying, bottom lip red as a result of the constant biting of your nervous state. A knock on your door brought you out of your misery as your maid walked into the room.

"Mr. Bridgerton is here to see you," she said with a saddened tone, knowing of the arrangement between the two of you. Your eyes widened in surprise, you weren't ready to see him, especially not in your current, heartbroken state. "Would you like me to ask him to leave?" she questioned, looking at the panicked expression across your face.

"No, it's fine. Please take him to the drawing room," you instructed her and headed to the bathroom to make yourself presentable. Your eyes were bloodshot, your face was slightly swollen, and your clothes were beyond wrinkled. Attempting to straighten your dress, you stroked the material over and over again, but it didn't seem to work, nor did the cold water you washed your face with to remove the evidence of your miserable state. At last, you gave up and walked to the drawing room, knowing you wouldn't be able to do anything else with your appearance.

"We have just parted, Benedict," you said to the man as you stepped inside the room and took a seat across the sofa he occupied.

"I needed to see you," he replied, standing up from his place and taking a seat beside you. "I—, I talked to my brothers after you left," he started, stammering over his words, something he only did in his nervous state. "I am a fool and there is no excuse for that. I can't possibly imagine how hard it must have been for you to pretend—"

"I have told you already, I am completely fine," you tried to reassure him with a faux smile, one that this time Benedict didn't believe to be genuine.

"But are you?" he asked, earning a confused frown from you. "Do you know why I thought this foolish idea to be brilliant in the first place?" he raised a questioning brow, but instead of replying you shook your head. "I wanted to be closer to you. I merely thought it would be my chance to spend more time with you. Surely, I had no intention to marry anyone, and I wished my mother to stop, but my primary concern was you. I wanted to be near you at all times, but I couldn't possibly tell you how I felt, knowing you would only reject me," you couldn't control the surprise sitting across your face, your lips parted in shock, his words seemingly part of your most precious dreams. It seemed surreal.

"You are confusing me, Benedict," you spoke up, trying not to hope once again to then fall painfully.

"I'm saying I love you. I have loved you for so long, I can't remember when it started. I never imagined my feelings could be returned and I turned to foolish ideas to be beside you. I needed my brothers to open my eyes and scold me for being childish, for making me hope that I might have your heart even if only half as much as you have mine," he reached for you hand, gently squeezing it in his hold, reassuring you that he meant every single word of his.

"I love you," you blurted out, astonished by his speech, your own words surprising you.

"You do?" he asked, afraid to believe the words he has longed to hear from you.

"I do," you nodded, this time with more confidence, earning a wholehearted smile from Benedict as he leaned closer and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in his arms.

"I made you cry, didn't I?" he asked as he pulled away slightly, enough for him to be able to look in your eyes as he placed his hands on your cheeks.

"It wasn't you. I was emotional, because I wasn't sure how long I would be able to stay beside you as a friend before it became too much to handle," you giggled awkwardly, feeling as if you have said too much.

"It was still my fault. I didn't consider your feelings," he shook his head, disapproving of his own actions. The tip of his thumb gently brushed across your bottom lip, leaving you with a ticklish feeling. "Have you been biting your lips again?" he asked as his eyes focused on your mouth. His attentiveness, his attention to detail and his closeness made you swallow nervously.

"I might have," you whispered, not daring to raise your voice any louder. Feeling his breath on your lips, the proximity between your faces, his warm palms on your cheeks made you feel intoxicated.

"You shouldn't do that. From now on talk to me when something bothers you," he spoke in a low tone, his voice soothing, making you feel safe. "You are doing it again," he chuckled, his eyes completely captured by the way your teeth bit on your lip, but this time it wasn't nervousness, but excitement. His closeness affected every tiny part of your body. "It really makes me want to kiss you," he breathed, completely mesmerised by your lips, as if an invisible force was pulling him towards you. You felt your heart beating at a dangerous pace, almost as if threatening to escape your chest and you could swear Benedict heard it just as well.

"Hmm," you hummed in a reply, incapable of creating a coherent sentence, before closing the gap between the two of you, a certain confidence rush taking over your actions. Instead of the surprised reaction you expected from Benedict, a playful chuckle left his lungs.

"Impatient, it seems," he added, before he returned your kiss, pulling you closer to himself, enjoying the feeling of your body in his embrace. He has imagined over and over again how it could feel to kiss you, to hold you, but none of those made-up scenarios could ever compete against the reality and the content it filled him with. "I wish to genuinely court you this time," he added as he pulled away from you.

"I very much hope so," you giggled happily, earning a playful eye roll from Benedict, before he captured your lips once again, wrapping his arms around you securely.

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[bokettochild]

We need more Time and Wild bonding

For you, Anon! And also for @1142 who requested the same thing!

Summary: Time sees his family, friends and other loved ones in his boys, but Wild especially is reminding him of himself this morning, and he wants to offer some encouragement to the poor kid.

It's quiet to read alone, listen to this!

Epona’s song drifted through the cool morning air.

The sound brought a smile to Time’s lips as he snuggled closer to the warmth pressed beside him, breathing in the clean morning air and tugging the blanket up higher on his shoulder.

He really didn’t want to wake up.

Although, he didn’t remember opening the bedroom window last-

Wait. They weren’t on the farm! They’d gone to sleep in the forest last night! There was no window to leave open, and no Malon singing or lying beside him. He shoots awake, pulling himself up with the intent of looking around camp, only to have something pull him back down towards the ground.

Looking down, he feels his scarred heart melt. Twilight twitches in his sleep, arms locking around his shoulders, sleepily groans sounding as the lad hangs off him, cold nose pressed to his neck. Tiny, whuffling snores sound from his pup as the younger man nuzzles closer, and he can only chuckle softly and rub his protégé's back lightly as he settled back down to let Twilight sleep.

He is curious who had been singing though.

A single blue eye takes in the camp as he props himself up slightly on his bedroll, careful not to disturb Twilight as he takes in where each of his boys lay.

Legend and Hyrule lay curled into each other, Legend clinging to his protégé while Hyrule’s hands lay buried in his mentor’s silky hair, a smile on the face of the younger and drool on the face of the elder*. Warriors lies close by, sprawled across his bedroll and snoring fit to wake the dead, utterly content and comfortable in the safety of his brothers and proving it with his noise. Opposite the three, Wind and Sky curl close, Sky’s sailcloth and their blankets thrown over the two leaving only Four’s left foot visible from between them.

His pup curls close to his side, one leg thrown over his waist and arms locked tight around his shoulders, holding him in place and preventing him from rising, but the bedroll on his left...

Epona’s song continues to dance through the camp, and Time’s single eye finally falls on Wild, the cook busily scrubbing out his favorite cooking pot on the very edge of camp, the familiar tune dancing off of the young one’s lips, suds rising halfway up his arms and hair thrown back in a messy bun that reminds Time strongly of Lullaby’s own hair when the woman loses patience with it. Decorum be shot, the queen will throw her own hair back with a simple hair tie in front of the whole court, ignoring how it makes her appear and continuing her duties without hair hanging in her face and her neck free from the oppressing heat of its constant curtain.

If ever he doubted that Lullaby and Shiek were the same person, each time he sees his princess behave in such a way, he’s reminded that, different time lines or no, there is still the same fiery spirit and passion for change in his friend that there had always been, and it is something he is happy to see reflected in some of his boys, along with Malon’s stubborn personality and incredible strength and kindness.

Maybe he is looking for the traits of those dearest to his heart in the boys that had pushed their way in. Be it by force or by accident as the hero might be, but it brings him no small joy to see Lullaby in Legend’s sharp glares or in Warriors’ brisk manner when planning. In Hyrule’s swift fingers or Wild’s sharp and calculating eyes. To see her in Four’s dark eyes, always thoughtful, always knowing, or in Sky’s burning passion.

It’s a wonder to see Malon in Wind’s boisterous cheer, and in Twilight’s rolling laughter. To see his wife’s mischief reflected in Wild’s luminescent gaze or her love of life in the way Legend cares for his orchard and animal friends. And the glimpse of unbelievable strength in Four’s easy lifting of weapons as big as himself, or the echo of her in the firm set of Warriors’ shoulders always makes him smile to himself.

There are others at times. Saria in Hyrule’s smile. Kafai in Wild’s laugh. Romani in Wind’s eccentric ideas, Nabooru in Legend’s firm stance and heavily lidded gaze, Navi in Sky’s light scolding and Tatl in Four’s acerbic wit. Glimpses of home and family echo around him, pulling close what reflected it and making them home and safety themselves. And over it all he can hear the winding of tunes that both tore apart and hold together the memories of his youth.

And now, one such tune, one especially close to his heart, one meant only for the Lon family and their famous steeds, dances over the edges of the camp and past the ears of the sleeping heroes as Wild lifts his cooking pot and carries it over to the fire, singing softly with faint and muddled words, many of them wrong, mumbled or tripped over, but sung all the same as food winks into being from the champion’s slate.

“-ne-ver far from home. Epona, Epona, can you hear hmm hmm, singing from in my heart, hmm-hmm-hmm.” Mumbled hums break the words as the champion works over the fire, measuring and stirring. “Something if you’re wandering far away hmm-hmm, listen for this melody calling you! Re-mem-ber that you have something-or-other to complete! I trust hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hm!”

The muddled version of the song makes him chuckle softly, startling the younger hero into spinning around, the spoon that Sky carved him brandished like a weapon as the champion prepares to defend himself against whatever he thinks may have startled him. Face beet red and growing redder.

“You have a nice singing voice.”

Wild looks instants away from combusting on the spot. “hOW- How long were you awake?”  Gone are the stumbling yet melodious trills of the cook’s voice, instead replaced with a panicked squeak only made worse by his age.

It was like the first time he’d successfully startled Shiek, both of them both still so young that their voices broke under pressure, and the thought makes him smile as he meets the startled child’s gaze.

“Long enough.”

Wild’s ears droop, quivering with shame and embarrassment as the kid’s shoulders hunch up to brush against them, eyes darting down and refusing to meet Time’s as boot scuffs the dirt softly. “I thought you guys- that is- I thought it was-” Cornflower blue glances up, meeting his own for only a second before darting away again. “I thought it was safe.”

Safe? What does the cub- Understanding dawns and he finds himself chuckling low and soft. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“It’s not that.” The champion whispers. “I just- I don’t like people...hearing.”

Oh.

Also familiar, also so very familiar. Only this time he doesn’t see his wife or sisters and brothers, or mother or friends in the flushed face of the hero before him.

A squeaky voiced young hero, who’d pulled his cap over his face more times than anyone would guess when looking at his scarred face now, had time and again been encouraged by a darting blue fairy.

“You’ve got a lovely voice Link. No shame, come on!”

Of course, fairies always like hero their Chosen sing, but Time himself had, admittedly, stumbled over notes and keys nearly as badly as his pup still does, but he’d lacked any of Twilight’s playful self-confidence to be able to own up to the harsh squeaks and shrieking chirps that erupted out of him whenever someone else tried to get him to sing, or caught him singing.

He was fine, when Navi was fast asleep or the Kolkiri were half a forest away, or when it had just been himself and Epona, trailing through the dark woods in search of a light he’d have given anything to hear encouraging him to keep trying to raise his voice. It’d been the first time he’d really tried to Sing for his fairy, but it hadn’t done anything but tempt over two fairies who already had their own Chosen, a skullkid who’d pulled him along into a world where his voice had hidden with his face behind mask after mask.

It took Malon catching him singing while at work in the barn before he’d been able to et the guts up to actually try for her, but it’d been worth it when he hadn’t had to fumble with fancy words to ask her to marry him, not when there was a song and a dance just for that that he’d learned for Kafai while in Termina. Malon made his heart sing, but she also made him sing, and while her voice far outdid his own, it always made him happy to hear the two ringing together.

He’d once hoped, once he found out, that he’d one day hear Twilight’s voice rise up with theirs on some starlit evening, but after hearing his pup sing...

He loves Twilight like a son, but heaven forbid he ever force his wife to listen to that tone deaf mess!

Wild though, oh, Malon would love to tempt Wild into singing and guide him along until his voice could ring with hers. The child had the voice of a fairy, ethereal and inhuman, but in a way that made him feel light and airy and almost like he could fly.

“Well...” He wants very much to stand and walk over to Wild, but he was still trapped and Twilight was both a brick and incredibly strong, leaving him trapped until his pup is good and ready to wake up, something he fully believed Wild would prefer to prevent happening for the time being. “I can’t not hear it, Wild.”

“Try?” The kid pleads, eyes wide and face nearly purple from embarrassment.

“It’d be an insult to whoever created the voice to do so!” The words spilled out before he could stop them. He was supposed to reassure the kid, not make him panic more by pressuring him! “That is- Wild, you have the voice of an... I suppose Legend would say “an angel” whatever those really are. To be frank, I wouldn’t choose to forget it if I could.”

“I’m not a good singer.”

“Bullshit.”

The newest hero’s gaze shoots up to meet his own, shock written across scarred features at hearing him swear. “You-”

“Don’t tell Warriors.” He whispers with a wink- blink- whatever, it was meant as a wink, and hopefully Wild would read it as one.

“You swore.” Wild breathes

“And you lied.” He returns. “You’re a good singer. Confident, maybe not, but I thought I heard Maon when I first woke up, and unless you want to tell me that my wife has a poor singing voise-”

“No! Of course not!”

“Settled then.” He smiled. “You’re a good singer.”

The champion stares at him, ears twitching slowly and eyes blinking as he processes the words, before a light scowl pulls at the kid’s scars as he crosses his arms. “It- no!” At the grin he shoots at the kid, Wild whines softly. “Dad!”

Both freeze at that. Or rather, Time blinks repeatedly, shocked, and Wild’s hands fly up to his mouth, eyes wide and horrified.

“I’m sorry!” Wild blurts out, still hiding behind his hands. “I slipped I-”

Laughter, deep and rumbling enough that Twilight is happy grumbling against him in response, sounds through the camp as Time throws his head back. He can’t stop it, but he will embrace it. This is the best morning he’s had in ages and Hylia have him if he doesn’t take a moment to enjoy it! “You’re fine, Cub. I’ve been called much worse than that more than once. Unless of course,” He grins at the young hero, brows pulling down in a mock stare, even if he can’t hold his smile back to be convincing. “You think I’d be a bad one?”

“No! You’re an awesome- You’re going to be-” Wild is somehow redder than he was before and he stomps his foot almost petulantly as he catches on to the laughter that still rumbles in Time’s chest. “Time!”

“I don’t mind.” He rumbles out, and more than anything he wants to walk over and ruffle the kids hair, or wrap him in a hug, but he’s trapped by Twilight, and instead can only lift his free arm in an offer that Wild hesitates to take. He’s almost considering lowering his arm and rescinding his invitation when the champion barrels into his side, face buried in his shoulder as Golden hair fills his vision.

“I hate you.”

“Such disrespect to your father.” Time scolds playfully, gently pinching Wild’s ear and making the champion giggle at the touch. “What will your Mamalon say?”

“Ma-” Wild sits up again, staring down at him in confusion. “Mamalon?”

His lips pull into a smile again, something he’s done more this morning than he has nearly all week. “Something Legend calls her, which I’m stealing because she and I both like it.”

The champion’s eyes trail down to where scarred fingers still tangle into his tunic. “Can I call her that too?”

“Well,” He chuckles. “If I’m your Father Time, I think it’s only fair she’s you Mamalon.” At Wild’s smile he smirks. “Ad she’ll be delighted to learn you already know the family song, if only in part. Her mother wrote that for her you know, and I’m sure she’d love to teach you the rest of it. She taught it to me after all, and I used to sing as poorly as Twilight!”

Wild’s mouth opens and closes a few times as a light blush colors the kid’s cheeks before he shyly nods. “I’d- I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” And breakfast or no, Time thinks the others can wait for a half of a minute to eat after waking up, because if Twilight’s going to pin him down than he’s going to return the favor with his other son.

[sylvie-writes]

Chain of Events

word count: 2500

pairing: andy barber x female reader

warnings: cheating, age gap, some profanity.

request: can i request a andy barber x fem!reader where the reader is his asisstant and his secret mistress (in mid 20s) which she always stick by his side and help him through jacob's trail. after the trail he divorced w laurie and they got marry and have a baby girl please!! thank you!!

a/n: sorry for the wait! i hope you enjoy lovely! ngl this really fueled my love for andy. 

please excuse any mistakes!

It wasn’t something you were proud of. Something that had started off as a night with a few innocent drinks paved the way for a never ending cycle. At times you felt dirty and awful, yet that didn’t stop you from going to see him every other night. Even when you had the slightest feeling that Laurie had a hunch, it didn’t stop you. Especially when things got dark for Andy, you were the one to hold him close and not his wife. It felt so right although extremely wrong all at the same time. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Currently, you were sitting in your apartment bed, spending your Friday night a bit differently than most. Rain gushed from the sky and rhythmically hit your bedroom window which you were spaced out on, many thoughts running through your mind and a glass of wine occasionally hitting your lips. Using your free hand you softly ran your fingers through the mop of hair that belonged to Andy who was passed out in your lap. His breathing was even and it did your heart good to see him so peaceful for once. Just two hours ago, he called you, sounding so broken and vulnerable which was out of the ordinary for Andy. The minute you answered the door, he flung himself at you and held you tight, whispering repeatedly “don’t leave me, please.” 

It absolutely tore you to pieces to hear him say that and you were quick to reassure him that it wasn’t even possible. You then lead him to the bedroom to ask what had happened. 

“Is everything alright? Talk to me, Andy.” You placed a set of his pajamas into his hands but not without a pleading look in your eyes when meeting his own sullen ones.

“Laurie’s adamant it’s him, but (y/n)-” Placing a finger on his lips, you hushed him. 

“I know, I know. You just have to ignore it okay? Laurie is just,” Pausing, you chose your next words wisely, “having a hard time with it all. Everyone copes differently.” 

He sadly nodded before standing to kiss your forehead and make his way to the bathroom to get changed and cleaned up a bit. 

The two of you continued to chat about Jacob’s trial once Andy returned from the bathroom, and he confided in you in many ways more than one. You’d never seen Andy so open, even with yourself, and clearly it helped him quite a bit as he was now relaxed. 

Time had flown and amongst your thoughts, one stood out to you in particular. When would Laurie start to question where he was? Andy always had some bullshit excuse ready to give her and would then tell you that it would be alright. Normally, before you had time to truly convince yourself, Andy’s lips would be on yours or his hands would caress you gently and you’d melt into him as did your cares. Except for now. 

The two had just gotten into a huge fight and you were sure Andy hadn’t even thought twice about telling her where he was going. Even if he did, Laurie would surely be on the lookout for his return. 

Carefully reaching over to your nightstand, you grabbed your phone to check the time and noticed that it was getting late. 

“Andy? My love, when do you have to go home?” You leaned down to whisper to the sleeping man who groaned in return. 

You repeated his name once more, this time slightly shaking his shoulder to which he rolled onto his back, a goofy grin on his lips as he looked up at you. “Well hello, honey.” 

From Andy’s point of view, you peered down at him like a disappointed mother but with a faint smile upon her lips at her child’s goofiness. 

“Nice of you to join me, sleeping beauty. I was wondering what time you had to get home. It’s starting to rain more heavily and Laurie-”

Andy sat up and turned himself so he’d be sitting shoulder to shoulder with you. Silently, he took your empty wine glass from your hand, leaning to place it on your nightstand. As he did so, he didn’t let go of your wrist, which he brought to his lips when he returned to face you. 

Murmuring against your wrist, he started to place soft and delicate kisses to the smooth skin there. “Don’t worry about it. I told her I’d be back tomorrow morning.” 

“But Andy, she knows you don’t have anywhere to stay.” You didn’t want to exactly say “Hey! Andy, you have no friends and your wife knows that!” but it was implied in a kinder way. Andy picked up on this, clearly deflecting when he just nodded in response and started to place more kisses up your forearm. 

Letting out a frustrated “hmph,” you let Andy carry on before he victoriously smiled at you.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The vicious cycle went on throughout the course of Jacob’s trial as things between Andy and his wife got worse. Even though they both lived under the same roof, slept in the same bed, and put on a facade for Jacob, they were practically separated. One night Andy drunkenly showed up on your doorstep, confessing how he had come home to find Laurie with another man. In a fit of rage he let the cat out of the bag that he had been seeing you. Funny how things work. 

You knew they were both wrong, so instead of shaming either one of them, you just let Andy cling to you for comfort. When Andy was drunk, he was like a big child and if the circumstances were different, you’d been laughing, but rather you soothingly rubbed his back and listened as that’s all he needed. Someone who would just listen.

At three in the morning, he most definitely needed you as well when you found his head in the bowl of the toilet and not sleepily nestled in your neck. (Which was ironic as the two of you would be switching places very soon.)

Christmas came quick and along with it, many miracles, one being that Jacob was not convicted.

Just as Andy was in a rush to tell you the news, Laurie was even faster to serve the divorce papers to him. In a relationship, you and your partner are supposed to be able to push through tough times without breaking. With that being said, Andy and Laurie mutually agreed that they had failed and it was time they both quit lying to themselves. It was time for real happiness. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“(y/n) meet me at our favorite restaurant in thirty minutes.”

You were working on some case files for Neil, despite your hatred for him, and tried to tell Andy that you were busy at the moment. He didn’t listen but continued to insist that you meet him there. His tone wasn’t demanding, but it was...excited? Surely, Andy had been excited over things in his life, but you’d never actually heard the usually emotionless man speak with such ardor. 

Setting down the case files, you rushed to put on some real pants and a blouse, but nothing too fancy or flashy as you had no idea what was about to happen. 

When you arrived at the restaurant, Andy happily flagged you over. He wore the biggest smile ever and you were borderline concerned. What could have him this happy? Was he getting back with Laurie? As much as you wanted them to be a functioning family, you weren’t sure if you could deal with such heartbreak because Andy really did feel like the one. 

Ever the gentleman, Andy pulled out your chair and handed you a small bouquet as you sat in the wooden seat. Before he walked away, the man planted a smack of a kiss on your lips and hurried back to his seat since he saw the waiter out of the corner of his eye. As the waiter approached, you were just sitting there, the most shocked expression on your face as it settled within you what Andy had just done. Long ago when this whole fiasco began, you and Andy always kept it professional when out in public because so many people knew him and word could get out easily that he was cheating. 

The minute the waiter left, you were quick to chastise Andy who just laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world which left you a bit angered. 

Since the restaurant was quiet, you extended yourself across the table so Andy could hear your harsh muttering. 

“Do you realize what you just did, Barber?!” Andy shook his head in a content manner and at this point steam was about to emerge from your ears. Before all hell could break loose and you go ballistic, Andy cut in to explain. 

“Jacob, he’s a free man!” Andy looked at you with an awaiting smile and your face immediately softened, but for only a second as that didn’t explain why he was parading your relationship out like this. Didn’t he know what he was risking, not only for himself, but you.

Your counterpart noticed the sudden change of expression on your face and continued, “But among other things, I meant to tell you that Laurie and I got divorced recently.” 

“Oh hon, I am so sorry.” Reaching across the table, you comfortingly ran your thumb over the back of his hand, but he just shook his head in detest.

“No no, it’s not a bad thing because it just opened the gateway for this,” Andy pulled his hand away and went to dig in his coat pocket. You thought to yourself, no he couldn’t be-

“(y/n), I’m gonna make this short, but sweet. You mean the world to me and I could spend all night listing off why I love you, but that will never do justice, so instead, I ask that you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?” 

His cliche, yet utterly adorable speech could make a person’s heart melt and instantly say yes, but you’ve always been a thinker, and maybe Andy had accounted for that a bit in his proposal. 

“Andrew! You just got divorced!” In a semi-whisper slash hiss, you bent over so only he could hear, hiding your words from the prying onlookers as if you had top secret info spilling from your lips. 

“I know, but, (y/n), you are the one.” He looked a bit awkward being on his knee for so long and the ring box still patiently in hand as you processed his question. Nonetheless, Andy continued to hopefully smile at you, ignoring all of the whispers, until you excitedly replied “yes” just a mere second later, though it felt like ages for him. 

This proposal was definitely gonna be a story for generations. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

You and Andy settled for a simple courthouse wedding with just your parents in attendance as witnesses. The two of you were never really used to flaunting your relationship, and even though you could now, it just wasn’t ideal. Besides, you had bigger things to worry about.

For example, when just a few weeks after your short-lived honeymoon, you noticed some changes and came to the conclusion that you were pregnant. 

One night, you casually brought up the idea of more kids to Andy to test the waters. 

“Hey love, you awake?”

Andy lifted his eyes from his book, no longer looking as if he was asleep. He nodded his head and set the book aside giving you his full attention. 

“What’s up, gorgeous?”

“I was thinking… what if we were to have a kid. Would you be opposed to that?”

The reaction on Andy’s face was most definitely not the one in mind and he looked as if you had asked him the most appalling question on earth. 

“(y/n), I love kids,” He chuckled a bit, “I thought I made that clear, you know, by being a dad and all.” 

His lame attempt at making a “joke” eased your nerves and you just came straightforward with the gold. 

“Andy, I think I am pregnant.” 

And faster than a predator can pounce, Andy was on you in seconds, his arms hugging you close as he whispered words of excitement. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Nine months later and that statement was very true as you held a bundle of joy in your arms. Your hours numb in pain couldn't even be compared to the gift that was before you. Andy could hardly keep his hands off your stomach for the past few months and he never failed to speak to your daughter as if she was actually there. Now that her presence was finally in the world, Andy was yet to look away from her small figure and his smile hadn’t withered the slightest. 

The nurse had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving both you and Andy some time and privacy with your newborn. Even though drowsiness overcame your body, you visibly forced yourself awake just to absorb all the time you could with her. Little ones grow up in a flash and you weren't going to miss a second if it was up to you.

Andy joined you in the hospital bed when you silently invited him in with a soft pat to the crinkly sheets. Once he snuggled up against your side, you carefully passed the little baby who was about to have her first contact with her father. 

As Andy played with her mini hands, you sleepily rested your head on his broad shoulder, watching the two and already figuring out that they’d be lifelong friends. 

“They always say with age comes wiseness, but darlin’, your momma gives that phrase a run for its money.”

You giggled at your husband’s words and propped up the little darling the smallest bit so she could “see” you and her dad. 

“Don’t listen to Daddy, munchkin. The grey in his beard says otherwise.” 

“Hey! I’m not that old, I was still able to knock-” Backhanding Andy’s leg caused him to dramatically cut his sentence short. There were plenty of years for him to taint your daughter’s innocence.

 As you observed the two, you noticed Andy gazed at her as if she hung the moon and stars for him, a familiar look he often gave you. Possibly from the lack of energy or just being enamored with the interaction, a sweet tear slipped from your own eye. Upon closer inspection, one could see that a subtle tear fell from the man beside you.

If Andrew Stephen Barber had known all those years ago he’d be here with a second chance at life, he would’ve never even waited another second to be with you. It’s funny how life can send you down the most twisted paths, yet have you come out with the most precious of gifts. 

 taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it​

a/n: what did you guys think? it feels like ages since i’ve written anything, and I am sure you can tell haha

if you are new here, check out my masterlist at the top of my blog for more Andy Barber (and Chris Evans characters) writing. I’d link it but tumblr always tag blocks me :( 

[goldenprincehunter]

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐔

ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ 20 ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴠᴀʀɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴜ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ!

ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴘᴏꜱᴛꜱ (ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ɴᴏ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ), ꜱᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴏɴ.

Belos and his brother were witch hunters from the era of the Salem Witch Trials, they stumbled upon the gateway to the Demon Realm while exploring the woods for food.  Belos has the mentality that witches are evil beings who wish nothing but death and sadness. Philip of course is excited to see how the magic of this realm works, much to the dismay of his brother. This is completely different than what he had expected, and his thoughts of being a witch hunter are quickly dashed. The two separate after a nasty fight about the morality of witches and the Demon Realm as a whole. Belos tries to tell Philip that they’re a danger to society, they need to be eradicated as soon as possible. Philip tries to reason with him, saying they befriended the Indians when they first came to the land, and thought that they were savages at first.  Maybe they could do the same with the witches. Belos doesn’t listen to him, and the brothers go their separate ways, neither talking to the other for the next few years.  Belos eventually finds out about his brother marrying a witch. He goes to where his brother and lover live, and is repelled as he stares down at the child, the pointy ears a sore sight for his eyes. He’s a half-witch.  As he holds the child, he smiles as he realizes that he can use it to his advantage and prove to the people that their magic was wild and dangerous. He’s been trying to tell the people of the Demon Realm that their magic is dangerous and only he can save them.  He looks through many books and spells, trying to find a way to curse the child to further his point. Finally he sees it. A potion to give the child a curse of a beast, which cannot be removed.  Belos quickly makes the potion, and goes over to his brothers’ house, saying that he wants to see his nephew. They are quick to let him in, who immediately slips into Hunters’ room, and makes him drink the potion. It doesn’t seem to do anything, but Belos knows the curse is a part of him now. He leaves the next morning.  He watches Hunter as he grows with his parents, the curse not revealing itself to anybody. There doesn’t seem to be a trigger for the beat to take over Hunters’ mind. Or maybe he wasn’t old enough yet for it to activate?   The witch hunter thinks of a plan to kill his brother and his lover, in hopes that it would activate the curse, and release the beast residing inside Hunter.  He takes Hunter out of town one day, talking to him about magic and whatever was on little Hunters’ mind. He tells his uncle about all the fun things he and his momma and papa have done together. Picnicking, fishing, going to the market. The boy seems to be happy and not have a care in the world. He’s utterly content.   Belos watches as a fire starts to consume where his brother lives, the assassin he hired starting it to make him seem like it wasn’t him. Hunter is quick to notice it, and realizes that it’s his house. The two of them race down to the town, watching as his home goes up in flames. His parents are nowhere to be found.  Belos is certain that his brother and that witch of his are dead by now, burned by the flames. Hunter is completely distraught, and that seems to finally trigger the curse. He starts to transform, screaming bloody murder as he changes into feathers and claws, tears streaming down his face. Belos is a little worried, but not critically so as the townsfolk come to watch him with horror in their eyes.  He transforms fully, his form somewhat resembling that of a white or golden owl, or some other bird-type creature. Hunter’s eyes are pitch black, with no sign of who he was before. The villagers are terrified of his transformation, Belos taking the time to try and convince them that wild magic is dangerous.

[tg-headcanons]

This might be a complicated ask but...Do u have any headcanons on Mirumo's childhood and how it may have affected his marriage and how be raised Shuu.

THE ONE GOOD DAD IN ALL THIS SHIT!

Mirumo did not come from a very loving home. His parents cared about him in the way one would care about a fancy car or house, very important as a status symbol but not something more. The rich need heirs to carry on their names so they had him, but they weren’t cut out to be parents. He was a sweet kid who wanted to get their attention, but they only really spoke to him to ask how his studies are going or when at events. The only family he really felt any love from was his sister Emma, they were close and the only good family they had

He and his sister were mostly raised by nannies and mansion staff. They were all ghouls hired because they were strong enough to protect the household and it’s contents, and they happened to be considered some of the items that needed guarding so at least they weren’t completely alone. They befriended them easily and were close with a nanny and one of the gardeners, and though their parents told them not to associate with staff they never stopped viewing them as family

He was a sick kid. He’s a sick adult now but it was worse when he was younger and didn’t have many people looking out for him and he spent a lot of time alone in his room resting. Because of that he read a lot, it offered a nice escape from being trapped in his bed and it was that way he found his love of language. He studied languages for fun, and bonded with his closest nanny when he asked her to teach him her first language, which happened to be French

When he was 17 he had the luck of being allowed to join his parents on their trips abroad, sometimes for business and sometimes for opulent events, but it gave him a taste of the exoticism he dreamt of as a child studying language in his books. When they ended up in France, he was taken off guard after a party when his mother told him they had struck a deal with a family there and he was to be betrothed to their daughter, two years older than him and a complete stranger. He couldn’t refuse, this is just what nobles do, and didn’t get the chance to meet her until his wedding day. He actually saw her first trying hurriedly to fix her makeup in the reflection of a window after it got smudged a few minutes before the ceremony, and he went over to her and helped her fix it since he’s gotten very good at using foundation to cover up how inhumanly pallid he gets when he’s sick for too long and spared no detail about how gross he looks like that. He had to run off once it was done to get on the altar, and was utterly taken aback to see the woman he found cursing at her reflection and promptly relayed his story of being a gross sick child to is his future wife. But when she gave him an amused smile when he lifted the veil he knew that things would be good with her

Mirumo was in love with her, sure he had to get to know her after already being married, but they were truly happy together. He saw how distant his parents were not just from him, but from one another, and was sure never to let her feel like he isn’t there. He would always find time in the day to sit with her and talk or read or share a meal, and he made a game of tracking her Down whenever she went on a business trip to have flowers delivered no matter how far her sleeping arrangements are

When shuu was born, both he and his mother were ill. It was a rough birth, ghouls are built to give birth quickly and heal after from whatever damage it causes, but much like Mirumo, his wife was too “purebred” to heal as well as she’s meant to, and Shuu was a tiny baby far too small and born a little too soon. There were a lot of doctors working on keeping his wife and son alive and growing until they were sure they’d be okay, and he stayed there the whole time. He had subordinates stand in for him at events for the first year of his life so he could stay with him them. Mirumo never acted particularly ghoulish until he then, but he got into the habit of growling at people who came near his family

Sadly, his wife only got more ill since then, and passed away a little bit before shuu turned two. He was absolutely devastated, and it took him a long time to be able to function like he used to without her. She was his everything, and the world was duller without her. The only reason he didn’t try to follow after her was his son. Shuu got better, he started eating well and growing right, and though he’ll always struggle with illness like any Tsukiyama, he will live a happy life, and Mirumo will be there for it

He was there for everything. He spent any time he could with his boy, he taught him how to use his kagune when he developed it for the first time, and when Shuu got sickness flare ups he would sit in his bed with him and read to him. They were inseparable for years, and even as his son grew he would always come to see his dad and tell him about everything he did or liked. Even when Mirumo was having an illness flare up, the family doctors knew to expect that his son would crawl in his bed with him and talk since his dad always did the same for him

He’s decided that the one constant in life is that horrible things are inevitable and he can’t save everyone, but he can do everything he can to keep a few people as save and loved as possible. When he got the call from a surviving servant that his sister and her family were slaughtered leaving only a single child, he was quick to take them in. He had to falsify papers saying the servant was Kanae’s real mother and officially portray them as his servants, but really the boy is there as family. He raised Kanae like another child, and was happy to give his son someone close to his age to be friend with. He’s happy to make his family bigger, and to share love with any he can. He knows what it’s like to be raised isolated and to feel unwanted, and he will never allow either of his boys to feel that way

[arvinsescape]

The Princess and the Guard.

A/N: I am so sorry that this took me so long to update, I promise I will update more regularly from now on!! I hope you all enjoy!

This series is not historically accurate and is not intended to be so please bare that in mind when you are reading, I am no real expert on how royalty works (even if I am from England).

This series will contain misogynistic language and views, violence, death and nsfw content. I will always put the relevant warnings into each chapter!

Teaser, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, bad relationship with mum (abusive).

W/C: 2.7K

Chapter four:

You’d felt Tom leave the bed an hour prior, the exhaustion from the day before still weighed heavy as you felt him give you a swift kiss before leaving the room. You’d fallen back into a deep sleep when your brother came through the door.

“Mother has chosen someone.” He said in a panic. You jolted from your spot in bed, eyes blown wide at the wakeup call.

“What? No, that’s too fast. How has she chosen someone already?” You ranted.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He smiled sadly at you and your stomach turned.

“Who?” You asked, deep down you knew the answer.

“The Duke, Oliver.” You knew he was going to say it, but the news still upset you, still made your stomach drop somewhere into the centre of the Earth. You felt a few tears spring to your eyes, this was already moving too fast. “I’m sorry.” Harrison sighed, the sad smile still prominent.

**

Annie was getting you ready for the ridiculous meeting you were to have with your mother and the duke.

“Do you ever wish you could have a different life?” You asked as she brushed through your hair, her eyes met yours in the mirror for a short time.

“Sometimes,” she sighed.

“I do,” you said confidently, as she put the brush down as she looked at you. “I hate this life. I wish I was free to marry who I wanted, not have the expectation of carrying on the family name.” You huffed.

“You don’t want children?” She asked shocked, she always thought you did, ever since you were little when you had the dreams of a small princess and a perfect life.

“I do. I don’t know, I just don’t want my children to grow up not knowing what love is.” You answered honestly. “I don’t want them to grow up looking at their parents, who don’t love each other, and think that’s love.” You’d always wondered whether or not your parents shared the bond of love, you were never sure. You wanted your children to grow up without that doubt.

**

You sat there in the meeting room, your groom to be sat across from you as you looked at each other, you barely knew the man. Yet you were supposed to marry him. He slid a box across the table at you, you picked it up, opening it.

“I brought you a ring.” He said, you studied it. It was possibly the most hideously loud ring you’d ever seen. You caught your mother’s eye, and she gave you a stern look.

“Thank you, it’s lovely.” You deserved an award for that lie.

“So, I was thinking of a short engagement. Maybe a wedding by the end of the summer.” Your mother spoke and you had to stop your jaw from dropping, your stomach turning for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“That’s a month away.” You almost whispered.

“Yes, well, like I said a short engagement.” Your mother said almost mockingly, she was doing this on purpose.

“That sounds good to me.” Oliver said, smug look on his face. Of course he was going to have a smug look on his face, he was to become a Prince by the end of next month.

“Perfect.” Your mother spoke before you could open your mouth. You felt bored again, zoning out of the conversation. You tried to make it look like you were interested but you weren’t doing a great job, your mother had caught your eye a few times, shooting you a look.

“Now all we need to do is sign the papers.” Your mother said, pulling you from your thoughts. Your head snapping to hers.

“What? Why?” You asked in a rush.

“The contract. There’s no going back from this.” Your mother said, smug look on her face. She was very much doing this on purpose you realised.

“Mother, may I speak with you for a moment?” You asked, eyes shooting to Oliver, begging him to leave the room, he seemingly got the message as he stood, taking a bow before exiting the room. “You have no right to decide my future like this.” You snapped at your mother, she furrowed her brows, it was a look you were so familiar with. She was angry.

“Your future was decided long before you were born. You have no choice in the matter, we gave you the choice and instead you behaved like a child.” She said, her tone was firm, she was refraining from shouting you could tell. Your anger had matched hers by this point.

“Why? Because I do not love any of them? I can barely stand the men you have made me choose from.”

“You have a duty, we have been over this.”

“Why does duty have to mean marriage? Why can I not marry someone that I love? What difference will it make? I’ll never be queen.” You said as you went to stand, your mother’s hand shot out, firmly grasping your own, making you sit. Her grip was like a viper’s, it hurt, you felt tears spring to your eyes as she dug her nails into the skin on the back of your hand.

“You will do as you are told. You will stop questioning me. You are an ungrateful little brat, most women would kill to be who you are. Now, I have had enough, you will take that pen and you will sign your name.” She said, firm grip still on your hand, you felt the skin break as a tear slipped from your cheek.

She used her free hand to pass you the pen, you took it into your own free hand and signed the papers.

“May I be excused?” You asked firmly, voice not faltering as you imagined it would.

“Yes. Now clean yourself up and learn to behave. Do not cross me again.” She hissed out as she let go of your hand, you stood, hastily making your way out of the room. As soon as you got out, you let all the tears fall, your hand was in an incredible amount of pain as you examined the damage. It was bleeding slightly, small marks that resembled your mother’s fingernails had made a home on the back of your hand.

You made your way into your bedroom, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed on the bed. Annie instantly rushing to your side.

“Princess? What happened?” She asked as she encouraged you to sit on the edge of the bed with her. “Who did this?” She asked frantically as she examined your hand. She didn’t give you any chance to respond as she disappeared to fetch some alcohol and rags. “Here, let me fix that before it gets infected.” She said as you placed your hand in hers.

You watched as she cleared the blood, wincing slightly as the alcohol made its way into your cuts.

“I hate her. I hate all of this.” You whimpered out, a fresh wave of tears making their way down your face. Annie had wrapped your hand up by this point as she looked at you. “My mother was never the loving type.” You sniffled as you held your injured hand up to her.

“Should I call for your brother?” She asked. You felt lost, felt like you didn’t know what to do, you’d just signed your life away, in one meeting, you’d signed away any chance of happiness you could ever have.

“No,” you said weakly. “I should not bother him with this. I’m sorry.” You whimpered again as the tears returned, you couldn’t help them as they cascaded down your face like a waterfall. Your sobs became ugly as you let out all of your frustrations. You felt Annie wrap her arms around you, she seemingly didn’t know what else to do. This shocked her, she’d never seen you cry like this, even as a child.

You stayed like that for a while as she stroked your back, it was comforting, she’d always been such a good friend and you were happy that you would always have her. For as long as she wanted to work for you, you’d have her. You heard your bedroom door open and snapped your head up, your father stood there as he took in the sight before him.

“Thank you Annie.” Your father said as he dismissed her from the room. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed, taking your injured hand in his own, he sighed. “Your mother is upset with you.” He smiled sadly as you sniffled, tears dying down.

“I just don’t understand!” You let out frustratedly. “You are the King, can you not do something?”

“Like you,” he sighed, “I have a lot expected of me.”

“I don’t want to marry him.” You’d always found your father the more loving parent, when in private he never expected you to speak properly, he was always the more gentle of the two. You never doubted his love for you.

“I know my love, but we can’t have everything we want. Not when we’re born into this.” He said sadly, dropping your hand.

“Mother talks as if it’s some sort of blessing.” You said bitterly.

“Do you know who you remind me of?” He smiled and you furrowed your brows in response. “Me. I never wanted this either.” He admitted, you’d always been honest with each other, but this was the first time you’d ever had a conversation about the life you were born into. The answer shocked you, he’d been brought up knowing he was going to be King.

“What?” You asked, utterly confused.

“Harrison was luckier than you and I will ever be.” He said as he played with his wedding ring.

“You mean?” You asked as you trailed off.

“Yes. I married your mother because it was expected of me. I’d never even met her until the day I married her.” He admitted, sad smile on his face and you felt bad for him, he had been put in the same position you had, and you wondered if it was your father that had been the reason you didn’t marry at eighteen, your mother had wanted you to. You wondered if he’d held off as long as he could, he never forced it on Harrison, he was just lucky to have found someone he loved in time.

“Have you ever been in love?” You asked. Now you knew the answer to the question you’d wondered for years. Your parents didn’t love each other, as you’d suspected but you wondered if he’d ever found love.

“Yes. There was a woman many years ago, a maid. I loved her. Sadly, she passed though.” He said, sad smile on his face. You were shocked by the answer, he’d been seeing someone in private for years and never been caught.

“Did mother ever…” You trailed off, your mother surely would have said something had she known.

“Neither of us have been faithful.” He sadly admitted. “Do you understand what it is I’m trying to tell you?” He asked and you thought for a minute before you answered.

“As long as the public think I’m doing the right thing, it doesn’t matter what I do in private?” You asked and he nodded as he reached out and flicked your nose, just like he did when you were a child. It pulled a smile from you.

“There we go. You and your brother are the only happy thing to come from my marriage to your mother.”

“If you could, would you let me marry someone I loved?” You asked, you had to know.

“Of course I would. I’ve always hoped that you’d be smarter than I was. I’ve always hoped you’d be the one to find a way around it.” He said and you smiled sadly at him.

“The contract is signed, it’s too late.” You huffed out.

“It’s never too late.” He said and you looked at him, you truly loved your father, he was the only parent you’d ever had a close bond with and looking at him now, listening to what he’d just said, you realised just how much you loved your father, just how good of a man he truly was.

“What if I’ve found the man I love? The one I want to risk it all for?” You asked, you weren’t going to tell your father about Tom, but you had to ask.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He teased and your heart froze. He knew. You panicked for a moment, what did this mean for Tom? Was he going to be punished?

“What? How?” You stumbled out in your shock.

“I’m not as oblivious as your mother. I am no fool. I’ve seen how the looks between you have changed over the last couple of months. Be careful, your mother can never know.” He said sternly and you nodded as you hugged him.

You felt hopeful again, more determined as you watched him leave the room. He was saying that you had more control than you thought. As long as you did what was expected of you and was careful behind closed doors you could have what you wanted. You realised that you’d have to let your head lead for a while so you could fill the needs of your heart, you could still have Tom, it didn’t mean it had to end, just that you’d have to be more careful. You wanted to give Tom something that couldn’t be decided for you, something that was his.

**

“You have the night off.” You said to Annie, a bright smile on your face.

“I’m supposed to be working tonight.” She said shyly.

“I’m giving you the night off, go and do something fun, please.” You insisted and she smiled as she nodded. “Before you do go please can you do me one final job?”

“Anything Princess.”

“Please can you summon my brother?”

She did as you asked and within minutes your brother was at your bedroom door, you ushered him inside.

“What on earth could you want so late in the evening?” He asked.

“Where there many guards on your way here?” You asked.

“No. They’ve all been reassigned to help get Oliver’s room ready.” He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Can you please send Tom?” You asked and your brother laughed.

“You need to be more careful.” He teased.

“Harrison, please?” You sighed. “I just want to see him, I’ve had a trying day.” You said and Harrison smiled before kissing your cheek.

“Of course little sister.”

Within ten minutes you heard a knock at your door, you opened it, hastily pulling Tom by the arm into the room, he completely baffled at your action as you shut the door before locking it.

“Princess?” He said with raised brows, and you turned to look at him. Your nerves had set in, your palms becoming sweaty. He took note of the look in your eyes and took your hands in his, furrowing his eyes as he saw the bandage. “What happened?” He asked, eyes snapping to your own.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said as you pulled your hand from his. “Tom, I want to give you something, something that’s been yours for a long time.” You spoke more confidently than you felt. His brows furrowed in response.

“Princess, you don’t have to give me anything.” He said, he had no idea what you were talking about.

“I do. I want you to have it, I want it to be you.”

“Want what to be me? Princess you aren’t making much sense.” He said as he cupped your cheek, taking in the frantic look in your eye. “Calm down. It’s just me.” He reassured as he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead. You breathed in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you spoke.

“Tom, I want it to be you that takes my virginity. It’s yours, I want you to have it.”

**

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[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi!

I've been reading your posts about Rosalie because I love her, and I was wondering if or how you would see her healing from her past/becoming more content with her vampirism.

She doesn't seem happy with the Cullens, as you have written about, but I they provide structure and "humanity" for her. However if she didn't have Emmett as a mate/admirer, she may be able to grow and not rely on her looks in regards to her feelings of safety and control.

I would love to know what you think! I admire all your work :)

So, some thoughts on Rosalie and on Rosalie's happiness vs. staying with the Cullens.

And ooof, I think it’s a long road to recovery. Not impossible but... hard, and certainly by Twilight, Rosalie isn’t anywhere close to being there yet. It’s a bit like curing Marcus of depression, it could happen, but there’s reasons we don’t see it in canon.

Where is Rosalie in Canon and What’s Up With the Cullens?

Rosalie’s relationship to the family is complicated but I do think she’s far better off with them than she would be on her own or with another coven.

Rosalie adores her family and does view them as primarily that, a family. She’s specifically close with Carlisle, but even those like Alice she’s fond of though knows Alice isn’t all that fond of her. She has her spats with Edward but ultimately loves him and likely doesn’t realize quite how low his opinion of her really is.

However, Edward disparages her constantly, bringing up things like her rape as insults and humiliating her in front of the entire family for something she’s genuinely struggling with. Emmett notably never stands up for Rosalie, at least, not beyond “Yeah, she’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch.” And even decades later still struggles notably with the trauma of her rape, her murder, and her inhumanity.

However, as you note, the Cullens provide her human life and human structure. This is the closest Rosalie can get to truly being human, the furthest from being a demon, and she lives this life in a seemingly meaningful way for the betterment of mankind. She’s able to pursue opportunities she never could as a human and marries a man, who does love her for all his faults, that she never would have otherwise.

Rosalie, in other words, is functioning.

She could be better and accept herself, what happened to her, and truly move forward. She could also be much worse.

And that’s the trouble, she’s hit this comfortable plateau, to get beyond this she has to want to change and change must be thrust upon her.

And I don’t think Rosalie wants to change.

Rosalie and the Past

Part of Rosalie’s issue is she both clings to and romanticizes the past as well as humanity itself.

What happened to her was awful and I think part of the way she’s coped with it is imagining what might have been. It’s not even that, really, but this pleasant fantasy of the life she could have lived.

Rosalie could have been human. She could have been a human mother, had a child, she could have married a human Emmett and lived a simple, good, life.

When Rosalie talks to Bella about what she’s going to lose, what Rosalie feels so strongly about, she never truly acknowledges that this wasn’t a life Rosalie Hale was going to have.

Rosalie’s parents were social climbers, Rosalie knew that they were using her beauty and her charm to marry her into money. Royce was utterly irresistible to them, though they didn’t know what he truly was. Even had it not been Royce, I imagine Rosalie may very well have ended up with someone similar.

And if she did not, she would almost certainly have been regulated to the role of a rich man’s wife. Her children go to boarding school, she barely sees them, she has tea with ladies but is unable to interact with business or a man’s world.

That idyllic country dream with Emmett: that was never her life.

And that’s what human life is. It’s hard, it’s not fair, and so often we do not get what we want based on arbitrary circumstances we’re born into. Rosalie has painted that away.

I think to heal, Rosalie would have to admit that humanity is not what she thinks it is. It’s not this golden idea. It’s nothing bad either. It just is, it’s a different state of being that, in and of itself, could not guarantee her happiness.

Happiness is for Rosalie to grab, not for humanity to thrust upon her.

Rosalie and Her Loss of Fertility and Identity

Being infertile left a large, traumatizing, mark on Rosalie. Women (still are but especially then) were defined by their ability to bear children. To be barren or to not have children was a mark against you: you have in some manner failed as a woman.

In losing her ability to have children all of this is stripped from Rosalie. She will never be a mother, will forever be something like a girl, and she loses much of her sense of personhood in that.

And this... This might even be harder than coming to terms with her rape. This is painful. Rosalie will have to confront the deepest, most gruesome, hurts within her and take a good long look at them.

She’ll have to let go of both her fantasies, the society she came from and what it expected of her, and the hypothetical child she will never have.

Many people do not get over this and... To be honest, I don’t know how Rosalie would either. It’s not something I see her wanting to face about herself.

Perhaps, in helping to raise Renesmee, this will lessen. Except Renesmee is not her child, looks very much like a mixture of Bella and Edward. And Renesmee is also... Renesmee, she’s a very alien inhuman child who is bound to only become stranger with aid.

Perhaps, in realizing Renesmee is not what she pictured, Rosalie will be able to confront this and let her longing for a child go. She could just as easily cling to it with all of her might.

Rosalie Doesn’t Want to Change

Perhaps the most damning is that Rosalie is comfortable as of canon. She could be better, she could be worse, but she doesn’t seem to want to change. Would she want to be human? Yes. But she can’t, and she’s settled for what she has.

Bella Swan was the biggest catalyst her family has seen in a long time.

Bella forced Rosalie to confront the worst aspects of herself: all those open wounds related to her death, her vampirism, and what she lost.

Bella throws everything Rosalie ever wanted out the window without a care in the world (and somehow gets the child anyway). Bella pursues a man who is anything but human to live this empty shell of a life.

Bella is the thing that should have had Rosalie taking a deep, long, look at herself and realizing what she needs to to get better and move on.

The catalyst was there, the pieces were set, and yet Rosalie doesn’t.

Rosalie doesn’t heal because she does not wish to. Because it’s hard, it’s painful, it’s extremely unpleasant. So she interacts with this woman who is so unlike her, who doesn’t share any values with her at all, but she does not reflect upon herself.

The prime opportunity slips her by.

Okay But How Would She Heal?

I think Bella, in many ways, was her best chance. Bella was the ultimate foil for Rosalie, representing everything Rosalie would not do while still being very human. More, (at least at this point), Rosalie sees Edward and Bella find happiness in each other with inhumanity. Bella doesn’t sacrifice her humanity for this, she gladly trades it away.

And that could have been enough for Rosalie to realize that, perhaps, she is not damned. Perhaps, she too, can find peace and happiness with who and what she is.

Well, that ship sailed.

Her next options are much harder.

The Cullens fall apart or Renesmee leaves on a journey of self discovery.

In the first case, Rosalie’s crutch of humanity is gone, the family is gone. This will be devestating for all involved but especially her. She’ll have to reevaluate her entire life, who she is, and what she wants to do. She could heal from this. She could also become very codependent on Emmett. It could go either way.

As for Renesmee leaving, if this is before the family split, that will be a huge blow to Rosalie. It’s Renesmee as Bella 2.0, rejecting everything Rosalie believes in, the Cullen family and way of life, because it’s not enough for her. Rosalie will have to reflect on her relationship with Renesmee, with the family at large, and with vampirism in search for answers. This will be painful but could be a healing process for her.

But I don’t think the road to Rosalie’s recovery will be a pleasant one. If it was pleasant, she’d be further along than we see her in canon.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Love, fear, peace.

My Masterlist  

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: “I wanted to request an imagine where the reader and Ivar have a 4-5 year old daughter. And while Ivar is usually very cruel, he'll do anything for his little princess. And she asks to paint his nails and have him join her for a tea party, so he does, as long as it's a secret between them but the reader ends up seeing them and her thoughts on it? I'm in a big mood to read Ivar fluff”

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A lil bit of angst, my best attempt at fluff, just soft stuff all around, probably ooc

A/N: My friends, may I interest you in an AU where all five sons of Ragnar are alive and happy? We call it ‘denial’ where I’m from, but yeah, in this universe they’re all alive, Sigurd married off to some Saxon Princess, Ubbe in Dublin, Ivar King of Kattegat and Hvitserk with him with a family of his own goddamit, Björn fuck-knows-where avoiding commitment like he was born to do, and that’s it. Ta-da.

Ástríðr is a name derived from the Old Norse elements áss "god" and fríðr "beautiful, beloved"

Taglist: (If you wanna be added or removed lemme know!) @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @1950schick​ @ietss​   @peachyboneless​ @encounterthepast​ @maggiescarborough​   @chibisgotovalhalla​ @receptionistfromhell​​ 

Hvitserk greets you with a kiss on your cheek, and you thank the gesture with a smile, though your eyes are scanning the main hall.

“Where’s Ivar?” You ask as he walks at your side, greeting a few people with false smiles and courteous nods.

Hvitserk only shrugs, “I thought he was with you.”

“No, we were supposed to talk with one of the earls about the effect of a high tide, but he wasn’t there.”

“And how was it?”

“Dull,” You reply sincerely, “But I have an idea of where my husband is.”

The other man betrays a smile, “Can you blame him? It is hard to say no to her.”

Oh, you know that. She has him -and you- powerless to deny her anything since she first came to this world.

Try as he might to deny it, to keep the idea of the ruthless king that loves nothing alive, to mantain the façade of how nothing makes Ivar the Boneless falter; your daughter is an adorable force to be reckoned with, capable of making even the King of Kattegat surrender.

It is no secret, for you or any soul that encounters your husband, that Ivar loves his family, his wife and daughter, like nothing else.

The world will never forget the battles he’s won and lost, the wars he started, the kingdoms he reduced to ash, the lands he conquered. The world will never forget of all he did in the name of his ambition, in the name of his fame.

But the world will never forget what he did in the name of love either. Countless deals made, countless fights, countless plans devised and even more sacrifices made so that he could grant his daughter the safeties she deserved; so that he can give her the world and, when time comes, have her step sure, knowing the very earth and the very skies are hers.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you blink past the sleep that weighs on your lids. You find yourself as you were, resting comfortably on a seat that has progressively become just a pile of pillows and furs since the start of winter.

You still feel the comfortable weight of Ivar’s head on your lap, and you can make out his voice speaking quietly. Looking down you find him talking to the small bump on your stomach, the evidence of your child growing inside of you.

At the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, Ivar looks up and offers you a smile, before scooting even closer to your stomach.

“Tell your mother to go back to sleep. You and I aren’t done talking, Princess.”

A part of you is tempted to taunt him about how the might Ivar the Boneless is so smitten by a child not even born yet, but you choose instead to bask in the softness in his expression, in the happiness that curves his mouth.

Still, after a few moments, you offer, “They could be a Prince. Ivarsson.”

Your husband hums, presses a kiss against your stomach and settles again on his back with his head on your lap.

“We will have sons, I know,” He tells you, smile faint as he closes his eyes, “But first, we will have a daughter.

He speaks with such certainty that you cannot help but huff a laugh. Still, it is a nice thought, to have a Princess to call your own, a little girl, blessed by the Gods.

“She will be just like her mother, and she will be ours to spoil and take care of.”

“You speak as if you wouldn’t spoil our sons, Ivar. Someone else might believe that lie, but not me.” You tease, eyebrows lifted.

“Mhm, but a father grows jealous of his sons, and their fame, their triumphs.”

“No daughter of mine, or of yours, will be content without her own triumphs and conquests.”

“I know,” He replies without hesitation, proud smile widening and eyes opening to gaze up at you, “Like I said, she’ll be just like her mother.”

It was never a secret, a surprise, for you to witness Ivar love your child before she was even born; to feel his joy and his anticipation and his love in the way he spoke of that daughter you’d have, and all the sons and daughters that would come after.

You learned to love him years ago, and found beneath the cruelty and venom and bloodthirst a man that loves intensely, that willingly gave his heart to you to keep safe the day he made you his wife. So his love doesn’t surprise you, his devotion to his family doesn’t make you falter.

There were still many things that made you falter, that made you see everything with new eyes, during those months while you carried Ástríðr and in the years you’ve been fortunate enough to have her.

One of them was how the sons of Aslaug, much to your surprise and despite all their other failings, had been raised to be utterly devoted to their families. Hvitserk was almost giddy at the possibility of a niece or nephew that he could keep close to him, unlike Ubbe’s children all the way in Dublin. Ubbe, always the father figure, visited more than once and kept watchful eyes not only on you and his brother, but on everything, as if from Dublin he could look over all of you like he did while growing up. To your surprise, even Sigurd, past the animosity between him and Ivar -and all the disagreements he has had with you over the years, of course- sent word from Northumbria wishing you three the protection of the Gods.

Another of those discoveries, sadly not as heartwarming, was to witness the burden your husband carried and not being able to do anything about it. The more easily-soothed fears, like what your daughter would think of him, or whether she would be born healthy, were quietened by your voice promising him over and over that any child of yours would love him like no other, or by the soft kicks of your daughter against where his palm rested on your stomach, making tears shine in Ivar’s eyes every time.

There were deeper fears, and fears that plagued you too, that you couldn’t so easily soothe. The whisper in the back of his mind that happiness is nothing, that everything you love eventually you lose, that all his cruel ways and his mistakes would one day cost him what he holds dear. The blue eyes of the man you love, so used to seeing what others cannot, so used to planning ahead and seeing the world like his enemy does, seeing a world where at any time his fame and his conquests could cost him your life or your daughter’s.

For a man as cruel and vicious as Ivar, it is easy to forget he is not something otherworldly, some demon like the Christians say, some beast like your own countrymen claim. Sometimes, in all his rage and all his chaos, it is easy to forget he is a husband, a father, a man.

And like any man with a beating heart, especially a heart so wholly owned by his wife and daughter; Ivar fears.

Ástríðr blinks big and strikingly blue eyes, and you smile widely, unable to keep yourself from bringing your daughter closer and pressing a kiss on her head, delighting yourself in the familiar and comforting smell of your baby.

“Good morning, little one.” You whisper, and she coos in response, as if she understands.

“Is she…is she alright?” Ivar asks, moving closer to you and looking at her over your shoulder.

“Of course she is,” You smile down at your daughter, your finger tapping the tip of her tiny nose. “Our beautiful girl, she’s more than alright. She’s perfect.”

“She was…coughing.”

“That’s something babies do, Ivar, she’s fine.” You reassure him, only slightly bothered by the fact that he woke you up because your daughter coughed. You adjust your grip on Ástríðr, let her nuzzle against the column of your throat and find her sleep again.

Ivar drops his head to your shoulder, sighing against your skin and laying quite a bit of his weight on you. You sit there, your daughter against you and your husband letting you hold him up as he releases a tension you didn’t realize was there, and feel a pang of something in your heart.

After a few moments, you hold back a sigh, you try biting back your worry, and whisper, “You should sleep, love.”

“Mhm,” Ivar mumbles, but it is an argument, even if he doesn’t find the words to voice it yet. “Later.”

He has taken the awful habit of not sleeping at night. Each night when you settle in bed with Ástríðr nestled close to you, and Ivar holds you both close in his embrace; he remains awake, vigilant and expectant, watching the shadows for ghosts and enemies. You’ve noticed him faltering during the day, worsening his pain by not letting himself rest like should.

And it has only been worse since Hvitserk has been gone.

You know there are few people Ivar trusts fully, even fewer he entrusts the safety of his wife and daughter to. With just being here, Hvitserk granted his brother a peace nothing else can, a certainty that there was someone’s back to lean his own against, a promise that he could lower his guard and rest assured he wasn’t alone.

It is just a matter of days before Hvitserk returns, but you refuse to let Ivar run himself ragged.

So, you use your and not holding Ástrídr to wrap around his waist, and slowly move the three of you, as well as you can manage, back to lay on the bed.

With a slightly startled breath Ivar opens his eyes, focuses almost frantically on you and Ástríðr. You sigh again, but make use of the loss of his weight against you to settle against the pillows, holding your daughter better against your chest, your hand covering her back and holding her gently.

When you’re certain she’s comfortable, you lift your free arm and run your fingers through Ivar’s hair.

“You’ll rest.” You order, your eyes on your husband’s. He wants to argue, you know he does, a war between exhaustion and stubbornness, but it seems the pull is strong enough to even make him cave.

Ivar settles on your opposite shoulder from your daughter, his hand warm and rough as it settles over yours on her back. You chase tension off his back by running your hand up and down his back, and as both he and your daughter sleep safe and warm against you, you allow yourself a whisper of gratitude to the Gods.

You never knew what the Seer had meant when he told you so many years ago that ‘he can only use one hand and chooses to hold the sword, and for that you’ll need to hold the shield’, but now, as you hold your world close against you, you dare think that you understand the Ancient One’s words.

Eventually, the fear of something stealing her in the middle of the night passes. It always returns, that irrational fear he has that he will lose it all, that frantic paranoia that if he doesn’t plan, if he doesn’t prepare, they will take you both from him.

But as Ástríðr grows healthy and lively, the fears dwindle, or maybe they just change. And for a man that scorned the very uttering of the word, Ivar finds peace.

Through the halls, you follow the familiar sound of Ivar’s war cry, though quieter, and the adorable giggles of your daughter. Walking into your rooms, you make sure to remain hidden as you watch Ivar on the floor, holding himself up on his arms, mocking a taunt towards your daughter, daring the little shieldmaiden to attack.

A part of you is glad that this is a secret, a side of your husband, of your family, that the world will never know of. The world needn’t know of how easily Ástríðr makes her mother and father cave to her every wish, the world needn’t know of how fiercely and uncondicionally she is loved; only she needs to know of it, andn you and Ivar have made sure she lives a life knowing how loved she is.

You lean your shoulder on a pillar near the door, arms crossed over your chest but still betraying a smile.

Ástríðr brandishes a wooden sword at her father, big eyes strikingly alike Ivar’s when she focuses and finds her determination.

“I will defeat you!” She exclaims, the seriousness in her expression making your chest warm.

“You’re just a shieldmaiden, you can’t defeat me!” Ivar replies without missing a beat, faking a monster’s swipe with a hand that tries grabbing at her small foot.

Your daughter jumps out of the way with a squeal, but quickly furrows her brow adorably and lifts her chin, stubborn and arrogant.

Gods, Ivar is right, she looks so much like you.

“I am Ástríðr Ivarsdottir, I’ll always win!”

“Ah, you will, won’t you?” Ivar teases, letting go of the role of whatever beast he was supposed to be, grabbing onto your daughter and falling on his back with her in his arms, lifting the girl up and making her giggle. “Mighty shieldmaiden you’ll be, my sweet.”

“I know.” She replies without hesitation, startling a laugh out of you.

Two pairs of blue eyes turn to you, and Ástríðr wastes no time in calling out for you, squirming her way out of her father’s grasp and skipping towards you.

You kneel on the ground and welcome your daughter’s enthusiastic embrace, even if it was only this morning you last saw her.

“Did you defeat him, little one?” You ask her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Of course I did, mama.” She replies, almost offended. Of course, look whose daughter you’re asking about a victory in battle, imaginary or not.

You catch Ivar’s eyes and whatever intent you had on chastising him for leaving you to deal with the earl alone vanishes at the softness in his gaze at he looks at you both.

Not many know of Ivar the Boneless’ love. Even fewer know of his fear.

But there’s only a few lucky ones that have seen his happiness, his peace.

You two share a look, a look that speaks not only of gratefulness for one another, but of gratefulness for this perfect blend of the two of you, of your stubbornness and his drive, of his eyes and your hair.

Ivar betrays a small smile and his eyes go to the discarded wooden sword at his side.

“Oi, shieldmaiden!” He calls out, and Ástríðr turns to him without hesitation. “You never leave your weapon behind. It is the one thing, besides your mother and me, that you can trust blindly in this world.”

Ivar motions for the sword, and your daughter dutifully goes to pick it up, only to be ambushed on the way, Ivar’s eyes trapping her to his chest.

She is startled, and lets out a loud and adorable laugh as her father once again drops to the furs at his back, his smile blinding.

“You see? If you’d had your sword, no monster would have gotten you.”

Ástríðr grumbles an argument, but Ivar only snorts a laugh. His eyes lift to yours, and he lifts his hand, calling for the touch of yours, calling for you to join them.

You sigh, but still walk to them and stretch on the furs near the fire, accepting the embrace Ivar offers you when he lifts his free arm.

You nuzzle your nose against his throat, reaching with your hand and taming Ástríðr’s wild hair.

“Do you think one day I could defeat a dragon, like the warriors you tell me about?”

“Mhm, of course. You’ll be the most famous shieldmaiden who has ever lived.” He promises her, pressing a kiss against her hair, his arm tightening and trying to bring you closer even if it is impossible.

___

I struggled a lot writing this, I don’t really know why bc it was a lovely request. I tried my best :)

I hope you liked this, lovely anon! And I’m sorry it took me so long to get it done! I love you!!

[zaikaglow]

Umbrageous

Pairing: Erwin x Reader (eventually Reader x Eren, Reader x Levi, Reader x Hange maybe more)

Summary: Your mom has married the ever handsome Erwin Smith but the two of you have started an illicit affair under her nose. As you become more jealous of being the other women you start to engage in office affairs to try and force Erwin’s hand.

Content Warnings: Step dad! Erwin, alcoholism, size kink, cheating, pseudoincest, unprotected sex

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“So I basically make copies, paginate those copies, go on coffee runs. I’m the office bitch basically��� Eren says rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other resting on the table on the stack of copies he was previously holding now resting on the table. While the office area where clients would come was nicely furnished and brightly light with floor to ceiling windows this backroom filled with equipment was dimly light with no windows and a disgustingly 70’s style wall color. “They also stuck you back in the worst part of the building, I kinda figured the whole building would have been nice” you say. “Oh well out front where Mr.Smith and Mr.Ackerman have their offices are nice for the clients but back where the paralegals and interns are it's pretty groody huh?” he gives a slight chuckle looking up just enough to meet your eyes. “So Eren what are you up to tonight” you say, cocking your head to the side and biting your bottom lip. You wanted to make sure he got the hint loud and clear, it seemed like a great form of revenge, you fucking Erwin’s little intern. It would be an utterly appropriate relationship that would raise red flags if he dared object to it and the best part was that he’d have to see this boy everyday knowing he violated his little princess. Would it make Eren’s life harder? Probably but you really didn’t care that much, you could only think about how smug you’d feel seeing Erwin ticked off at the boy. The boy's eyes widened and you could tell he was trying to suppress a smile “uh I uh, you know I wasn't actually doing anything” he breaks eye contact to look at the ceiling “but if you want maybe you and me, we could do something. Together” he looks back to meet your eyes looking nervous as hell. He’s desperately hoping that's what you wanted to hear, that you weren't just trying to make polite small talk. You stand up from the doorway you had been leaning on to and grab a piece of paper out of the recycling pile and pluck the pen that had been sitting behind Erens ear and begin to scrawl. “Here’s my address, pick me up at 7” you flash him a smile before leaving making sure to not give him the chance to ask for your number. That was intentional just giving him the address so that way he’d have to come to the door, no ‘i'm outside texts', you wanted to rub it in Erwin's face.

Later that night you were sitting at your vanity putting the final touches on your makeup for the night when there was a knock at the door “come in”. You already knew who it was by the heavy footsteps as he was coming up the stairs, but you still couldn't help but to smirk when Erwin opened the door, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He came up behind you and placed his large hands on your bare shoulders feeling the warmth radiating down. “Who are you getting all dolled up for” comes out in a cold monotone voice, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. You finish wiping the sticky pink lipgloss on and reply in a condescending tone “Oh didn't I tell you”? A devious smile spreads across your face “that handsome intern asked me on a date”. Erwin clenches his jaw, grip on your shoulders tightening “ y/n I know you're mad at me about today” he exhales “but this is just childish”. “Aww daddy don't tell me you're jealous of the little Jager boy”. “I'm not jealous of a child like him, and put a jacket or something on that's barely a shirt” he removes his hands from your shoulders and briskly walks out the door.

Erwin is sitting down in the living room with your mom reading the paper when the doorbell rings. He puts down the paper and goes to open the door, “Mr.Smith, kinda weird to see you outside of work i'm here to pick up y/n”. Without breaking eye contact with Eren, Erwin shouts up the stairs “y/n, the Jager boy is here”. As you start to come down the stairs your mom gets up to go check out the new visitor “oh y/n he is handsome, good choice” Eren blushes “uh thanks Mrs.Smith”. You practically skip down the stairs and give Eren a hug at the door, Erwin can see you listened when he told you to put on a jacket over that black halter crop top but you also went ahead and changed out your jeans for a skirt. He knows that he can't say anything right now, not with your mom standing beside him, but he’s jealous. The way you have your arm wrapped around the Jager boy’s waist knowing that he’ll put his filthy hands on his little princess putting his cock where it doesn't belong. The only thing he can think to say is “have her back by 10”.

Eren’s car isn't anywhere as nice as Erwin’s but it's not like you expected it to be. Erwin is a wealthy big shot lawyer and Eren is a college intern but it feels almost weird to be so low to the ground in a car. You're parked at a scenic pull out overlooking the city. There are some picnic tables in the nearby trees but it's not the right season so you two are utterly alone in this small dirt parking lot. Eren is tapping the steering wheel nervously and stealing the occasional glance in your direction “so y/n are you sure you don't want to go and do something? We could go bowling or there's some 24 hour diners nearby”. You prop up one of your feet on the seat below you causing your skirt to ride up your thigh, Eren steals another glance this time lingering on your exposed thigh “I’m perfectly happy right here Eren” you say tilting your head in his direction. “Y/n..I dont want you to feel like i'm trying to take advantage of you” comes out in a low husky voice. You get up, placing your knees underneath you on the seat and place your hand on Eren’s arm as you slowly start to move up towards his face till your fingers grasp his jaw and turn his face towards yours “you're not taking advantage of me Eren”. You pull him into a kiss, it's different from how Erwin’s is. With Erwin it's firm and there's this sense of urgency of “don't get caught” of “this is wrong, we shouldnt do this” but Eren is gentle and warm and kisses you like it's right. His fingers nervously brush against your jaw like he’s afraid you'll break if he touches you too hard “Why don't we move to the back seat” you whisper brushing your fingers into his hair causing him to lean into your touch and eyelids shut “okay” he replies.

Eren’s shirt is off and he’s leaning over your fingers in your hair, and things feel nice of course you can feel the arousal pooling in your panties but this is no way to make a point. You move one of your hands up to his jaw pushing his head up and tilting his jaw down to look at you while the other goes to palm him through his jeans. He’s so beautiful the way the loose tendrils of hair fall against his forehead, his green eyes lids heavy with lust. Maybe you could be happy with him, you could stop fucking your stepdad and be happy having a normal relationship with an age approrait boy. But unfortunately you're a little too twisted to give up on Erwin, you know fucking someone like Eren would amount to the thrill of fucking the one man you were never supposed to touch. Your mind was made up “Eren, I want you to be rough with me” his eyes go wide “o-okay I can do that” he says. His lips meet yours again though this time rougher, he places a peck on the corner of your mouth before starting to trail down to your neck, finally about to give you what you really want “I want you to mark me Eren” you can feel his cock twitch in his pants at the words as he latches on tighter to your neck leaving wet spots that begin to darken. His hands lift off your top, breasts bouncing after being freed from the tight shirt’s confines. He gives them a squeeze before placing his mouth on the right nipple and his delicate fingers roll the left. “If you only do my neck my tits are going to feel left out Eren” he glances up before moving his mouth higher on your breast to start leaving more hickies. Your thighs are squeezing together and you can't take it anymore going to unbutton his jeans and slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers pulling both down freeing his cock to slap against his stomach. His cock was much smaller than Erwin's, not tiny by any means, just not as massive, but it was pretty and veiny and the head was starting to leak. Eren’s hands move down first pulling off your skirt but then pauses to look at your grey panties and how he can see how soaked they are from your arousal. He runs his middle finger over your chlothed slit “hmm is that all for me”. “Of course who else would it be for?” you hook your thumbs under the waistband before Eren’s places his hands over yours “I wanna be the one to do it” he starts to drag them down going slowly so he can see how your arousal sticks to the undergarments before breaking. You take your hard and use your thumb to rub a bead of precum over the head. “Y/n i'm sorry I honestly didn't expect this tonight I don't have any condoms”   

“Hmm its okay im on birth control” you say as you guide him by his cock to your entrance. When he makes contact he puts his arms under yours hands gripping your shoulders and burying his face in your neck as he bottoms out. His hips start to move in and out and you can feel the way the head of his dick brushes up against your sweet spot. Eren starts to pull out a little only fucking you with the first few inches stimulating your enough but leaving you begging for him to fill you up and then when you least expect it he pushes in with his full length repeating this process a few more times before you finally feel his warm cum painting your insides. Eren brings his head up and gives your cheek a wet kiss “you didnt cum did you”? “No but that's okay I still enjoyed it”. He rubs his nose against your check and whispers “nuh uh I want to make you cum too, come here”. He pulls out and sits back against the door of the car and gestures for you to come sit in between his legs. You comply leaning your head back in the crook of his neck as he places one hand on your breast and the other starts to circle your clit fingers dipping into the mess from earlier to lube up his finger “how does that feel” he whispers “i-its good” you whimper back. He has two fingers gently pumping in and out and his thumb circling around your swollen bud and your grip his thighs as you feel the tension in your stomach start to reach its breaking point before you release on his fingers adding to the wetness between your thighs. Eren wraps his arms around you and whispers “that a good girl”

It’s 10:15pm when Eren drops you back off making jokes about Erwin firing him every minute it passed 10pm and nervously glancing at the hickeys littering your neck. Before you got out he had said “I hope that wasn't just a one time thing y/n, I think I actually really like you” and you had assured him that this wasn't a one night stand and that you'd see him again. When you finally walk in Erwin was sitting in his reading chair by the door, you walk in and head right up the stairs pretending he wasn't even there. In your room you start to undress when the door opens no knocking. “What the hell did he do to you?” Erwin says grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. He places his fingers over the dark hickies, a look that's a mix of hurt and disgust coming over his face. “Oh come on daddy you know it would be weirder if I didn't go out with your handsome little intern, and I know how you like keeping up your appearances” you smile sweetly at him. You're thinking you finally did it, you got under his skin and you were about to get what you wanted, him all to yourself when suddenly his face goes back to an almost blank expression. “You know what y/n you're right it would be strange if a girl as pretty as you were to remain single the whole time, I think this is actually a good idea”. Erwin takes his hands and brushes your hair back behind your ears and gives you a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room “goodnight princess”. You're so angry he was okay with this, with another man marking you up? It would apparently take a lot more to get under Erwin Smith's skin, you think slamming your hands down on the vanity in frustration.

Two weeks later you're with Eren in his room, him laying his head on your lap talking away while you play with his hair. “Your dad must be pretty protective of you because I swear he’s been crazy rough on me ever since I took you out that first night. I mean I thought he liked me enough since Mr.Ackerman gave me his recommendation and you know how those guys are like best buds” you start to listen more intensely than you had before “Really? My dad doesn't like to talk about work stuff that much around me I haven't heard about Mr.Ackerman”. Eren shifts up a little bit seemingly more curious “Seriously he never mentioned him? Those guys are like crazy close there was even a rumor that they were in a secret relationship but then he married your mom and Mr.Smith just really doesnt seem like the guy to fuck around on his wife” he continues “I actully really like Mr.Ackerman too he’s my sisters cousin, shes adopted so he’s not my cousin but Ive known him a while and I owe him a lot I used to make some bad choices but he kinda kicked my ass into gear and got me on the path I am now, thats why im pre-law and he even helped me get this internship”. The way Eren is looking up at you is just so sweet and filled with love and the way he’s so comfortable just telling you all this makes you feel really bad. Because while Eren’s a nice guy and all it seems like the best way to finally truly get under Erwin’s skin, enough to get what you want is to fuck this Mr.Ackerman.

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

NETHERFIELD PARK, LET AT LAST! (I)

“James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Stark!Reader - PRIDE AND PREJUDICE AU

Summary: The Stark family, consisting of Mrs. Pepper Stark, Mr. Anthony Stark, and their five daughters, Natalie, Y/N, Jane, Carol, and Wanda. On one sunny summer day, the news reached the Stark family home; Longbourn, that Netherfield Park, the most spacious and grand estate in all of England, was let at last!

Only, it was by a certain Mr. Steve Rogers, and his rather...grim and stern-looking (for lack of better words) companion and best friend, a James Buchanan  Barnes,  and Mr. Rogers’ rather notorious sister, Sarah.

As tensions rise between between Mr. Barnes and Y/N Stark, will they be able to overcome their own pride and get along?

a/n: pepper is out of character?? i wrote her to fit the 2005 version of Mrs. Bennet.

tags: @cherryblossomskye​

“Haven’t you heard, Mr. Stark? Netherfield Park is let at last! Do you not wish to know who has taken it?”

“As you wish to tell me, my dear; I fear I have no choice in the matter.”

You see, dear reader, the Lady of Longbourn House, Pepper Stark, had made it her business all her adult life to know absolutely everything about anyone and everyone. Including visitors. 

The sound of the horrible playing of the pianoforte fades out as Y/N walks in to the house, only for Natalia nowhere to be found, with Carol and Wanda listening to their parents’ conversation to their hearts content. 

“Carol, Wanda! What’ve I told you both about listening at the door! It’s unnecessary and rude!” Y/N scolded her sisters, in both hushed tone and manner. 

“Hush, Y/N! Nevermind that! It’s Mr. Rogers coming down from the North with  £5,000 a year!” Carol scolded back. 

“ £5,000!” Y/N gaped, with her jaw practically hitting the floor. 

“And he’s single!” Carol and Wanda squealed in unison.

“Who’s single?” asked Natalia, finishing her trip down the stairs and taking a place with her sisters in front of the door. 

Now now, dear reader. It might do well by my part to let you know that Mr. and Mrs. Stark have five daughters. Their oldest, Natalia is 21, followed by Y/N, 20, then Jane, 18, followed by Carol, 17, while their youngest, Wanda, is 15. Mrs. Bennet loved all her daughters to the death, but with an aging father such as theirs, they would not inherit anything; shall he die an untimely death. Of course, any death is untimely on anyone’s part, but that’s not the present matter. 

“Mr. Rogers, apparently.  £5,000 a year and has rented out the Netherfield.” Y/N whispered to her sister. 

“I don’t believe it, Y/N.  £5,000? Lord help us all.” Natalia answers. 

“And how could that possibly affect our girls?” Mr. Stark teased his wife, who very clearly seemed to be in distress. 

“Oh, Mr. Stark! How could you be so tiresome? You know he must marry one of them!” Mrs. Stark looked as if she was about to faint from nerves.

Carol and Wanda proceed to let out a rather loud giggle at their mother’s plea, as the observant Mrs.’ eye. And with this, Mr. Stark proceeds to open the door, only to, no surprise, find his daughters listening in on the conversation with his wife. 

“Good heavens! The lot of you. Excuse me, girls!” Mr. Stark passed his girls, moving into the sitting room. Despite Mr. Stark clearly wanting to end this conversation, his lady chases behind. 

“But we shall not visit if you do not, so you must call for him!” Pepper pleaded. 

Turning to his family in the doorway of the sitting room, he finally let out the news he had been holding in for so long. “There’s no need darlings. I already have.”

“Oh- oh! How could you tease me so, Mr. Stark? You know about my nerves.”

“Of course I know about your nerves, my dear. They have been my constant companions these past 22 years.” Mr. Stark settled in the armchair, prepared for questions for all the questions he was sure his daughters had. 

“Oh dear! Is he handsome?” Wanda asked. 

“It doesn’t matter is he’s handsome, Wanda. He’s rich!” Carol exclaimed, grabbing he sister’s hands. Natalia joins Y/N on the sofa as she says “For  £5,000 a year, I it wouldn’t matter if he had three warts and a gray tooth!” Y/N snorts out in a laugh, and Natalia hushes her.

“Hush now, Y/N. I’m sure he’s lovely.” 

“Who’s got three warts and a gray tooth?” Jane now asked shyly from the doorway her father had stood in mere moments before. But no one paid her any mind. 

You see, reader. All the Stark sisters with the exception of our dear Jane, are rather outgoing. While Jane, instead of pretty dresses and social balls, opted for a plainer look compared to the rest of her sisters, thereon and therefore staying in the shadows more often than seen by society. Poor girl. 

“Well, well. Shall any of you fall in love with the man, I will give my hearty and happy consent to marry any of his choice.” The man says. He hesitates for a slight moment. “The ball at Meryton tomorrow shall be rather splendid indeed.” 

“Will he be there tomorrow, papa?” Wanda asks. 

A pregnant pause fills the room. “I do believe so.” He finally says, stoking his chin.

Inaudible squeals of joy and excitement fill the room. Carol and Wanda immediately started bothering and pestering Natalia about their bonnets, their shoes, their mending, whatever came to their minds the second dear old father said the words ‘Mr. Rogers’ , ‘Ball’ and ‘Tomorrow’. 

Y/N, however, remained on the couch, looking at her sisters with a grin on her own face. Excited as she may be for social gatherings and balls, Y/N had never bothered to look for a husband. Her sisters, although loving her very much, have always teased her about becoming a spinster. In a lighthearted manner, of course. Always.

 It was a different story for her mother; Pepper actively hunted for husbands for her girls, but has proven unsuccessful, because since her oldest have come of age, only Natalia had come close. 

And so, Mrs. Stark hoped to try her luck.

Dear Reader, this would soon prove to be more successful than you think at this very moment in time.

~~~~~~

The array of colorful dresses and all the gentlemen in dashing suits and the loud sounds of music, stomping, and clapping and the taste of the seasons’ best wine is nothing new to the Stark sisters, but they always tried to enjoy it to the maximum, nevertheless.

At these balls often hosted my one family or the next, dancing was often enjoyed. But one factor that ruled quite a few people out of the activity was the fact that the women, more often than not,  the women out numbered the men. This meant that every young lady, including Y/N, had to wait their turn.

But Y/N felt no less bitter than any other girl in the room, as she laughed with a dear friend Darcy, who, despite being a few years older than her, had remained one of her closest friends since youth, and Natalia on her right. 

“You know, Natalia; if every man in this ballroom does not end up utterly and foolishly, head-over-heels in love with you, I am to be no judge of your beauty.” Y/N told her sister rather loudly, trying to get heard over the music that filled the Meryton Townhall. 

“All men, Y/N?” she inquires.

“Please, Natalia. They’re all humorless.”

“You better shut your mouth. One of these days someone is catch your eye and you’ll have to be more careful.” 

“I hate to betray you like this dear friend, but I’m afraid your sister’s right on this one.” Darcy said from beside her. 

Ms. Darcy Lewis, despite being a 4 years older than Y/N, had been close to her and her family since they could crawl. By Mrs. Stark’s standards, Darcy must, and I quote dear reader, “find a husband and give birth already”. Despite still having some time before society called her an old maid. 

“Oh dear friend, how you humor me.” Falling on Darcy’s shoulder, she feigns hurt, putting a hand over her heart. “Oh dear, oh dear! How you betray me!”

“Hush now, look who’s arrived!” Natalia and Darcy both whispered, shaking her arms. 

The rather loud dancing and joyful music had come to a screeching halt. The partygoers have parted a path for the three people standing at the door, as if they were Moses parting the red sea. 

Their eyes scan the room, like a mother inspecting a child’s bedroom. Right away, Y/N knew who they must be. Leaning over to Darcy, she whispered in her friend’s ear “Which one of these painted peacocks is our Mr. Rogers?” 

“The blond one to your left. To the right, his sister, Sarah.” she answers, clutching Y/N’s hands.

“And the man with the quizzical brow?” 

“That would be his friend, Mr. Barnes. He apparently owns Pemberley Estate and half of the Derbyshire.”

“Oh how miserable he looks, Darcy! Look at him!”

“Miserable-looking he may be, Y/N, but poor, he is not. His prospects earn him a steady income upwards of  £10,000 a year.”

“My, my. How very interesting.” 

The trio makes their way on to the back of the room. Mr. Barnes was not one for dancing and Ms. Rogers looked as if she had a permanent look of distaste etched on her fair face. The partygoers continue their fun. 

Mr. Rogers, however, was a different tale altogether, dear reader. He was like sunshine in a bottle, or a child opening his or her eyes for the first time. A child-like wonder, some may even say. 

His younger sister, Sarah, has, to put it quite bluntly, the reputation the devil himself, more or less. Known for sabotaging her brother’s relationships and being rather promiscuous. Oh my. 

His friend, Mr. Barnes, was quite the interesting character. He seemed to be pleased to be in such an environment, but at the same time looks like he rather be anywhere else. 

Mrs. Stark does not let the three of them rest, and immediately reaches for those of her daughters who are not dancing on the floor with a partner. In her mind, it was imperative that her girls marry rich, whether it be for her sole benefit or the family’s benefit, we might never know. 

With know Natalia, Y/N and Jane, with Darcy too, of course, at her side, they were introduced to the three by Mr. Lewis himself. 

“Mr. Rogers; My eldest daughter Darcy Lewis, Mrs. Stark, Ms. Natalia Stark, Ms. Y/N Stark and Ms. Jane Stark. And of course, Mr. Stark.”

“A pleasure to meet all of you! I have two other daughters who I might introduce you two, if they ever keep their feet off the dance floor!”

“Let them dance! I’ll pay the matter no mind. Although it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Mr. Lewis speaks up again. “And may I introduce Mr. Barnes of Pemberley and Derbyshire.”

The girls bow once again. The air was surprisingly tense, even if the words they had exchanged were merely just and introduction. But Mr. Barnes paid the tension no mind. 

Unsuprisingly, Natalia had soon managed to drag Mr. Rogers away for some light conversation, being joined by Y/N. 

“And are you enjoying here in Hartfordshire, Mr. Rogers?” Natalia asks shyly, wringing her hands. 

“Very much, Ms. Bennet.” he answers her with a smile.

Oh, dear reader. He was smitten! A match made in heaven.

In a very clear attempt to rescue her sister from such a silence, Y/N proceeded to ask Mr. Rogers “The Library! At Netherfield! I hear it is one of the very best in the country.”

“Oh, yes!” he chuckles. “Although I’m not a big reader, you see. I very much prefer being outdoors.”

A smile came upon Natalia’s face. “That’s what I always tell her! How can one sit inside, completely still, when there is so much to do outside!”

Mr. Rogers’ eyes seem to be overcome with a certain infatuation not even the biggest matchmaker could define. “Ms. Bennet, would you do me the honor of joining me for the next dance?” he asks happily with a smile, holding his hand out. 

One can feel Mrs. Stark’s eyes on her eldest daughter from across the room. Natalia, however, doesn’t give the subject matter a second thought and takes his hand and he escorts her out to the floor. 

“And how are you this evening?” Y/N hears from behind her. Whipping her head around, only to find - Mr. Barnes. 

“I’m doing just fine, thank you sir.” She gives him a curtsy. “I trust you had a tolerable trip?”

“Oh yes, Ms. Bennet, I do hope you trust me when I say we did. Although Sarah- I shall not talk much about her. I’m sure you know her nature.”

“And do you not care to dance, Mr. Barnes?”

“Please, call me James. And no, I only dance when obligated to.”

“Looks like I’ll have to do that myself.” Y/N says, perfectly in time with the previous dance that just ended. She holds out her hand to him, which he seems to accept after a second’s hesitation. 

But to him, dear reader, it fell like his entire world was hit by a ray of pure sunshine and all his problems were somewhat solved. Or so I’m told. 

But Mr. Barnes feels a sharp glare looking at him from across the room. 

Sarah. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, Ms. Bennet, goodbye.” he says, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. 

And so, our heroine is left alone on the floor, embarrassed until Darcy comes to her rescue. “Oh, I watched all of it unfold, dear friend! How rude of him!” her friend cries. “Come along!”

Darcy takes her hand and walks behind the seating area, where the pair would have more privacy to talk. “I’m sure you’d like to spare me the details, I will not want to hear of such an act on his part, and as I know you wouldn’t speak a word of it either.” 

Y/N holds her friend’s hands in her own. “Oh, how you understand me! If only we could live together as old maids instead!”

This sends Darcy into and uncontrollable fit of laughter, which stops as soon as she hears the conversation of Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes walking bye. She ushers Y/N to listen.

“Natalia is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, James. Although, if she were not to have me, I’m sure I would be happy with her sister Y/N, too.”

Mr. Barnes shoots his friend a cold glare, clenching his jaw. “Then you must’ve spent the evening with the only handsome girl in the room, because I only found Y/N to be nothing but agreeable.”

Y/N swore she could hear a part of her heart chip away.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Y/N! If the miserable man liked you, you’d have to talk to him! Imagine! Darcy says, noticing the state of her friend. 

“You’re right! I wouldn’t have him for all of Derbyshire, let alone the miserable half!” Now this sends both friends into a bigger fit of laughter than before.

“There you are! Where have you been?” Mrs. Stark shrieks from where she was situated now, besides them. 

“Mother, I was just-”

“I’ll hear none of it! Do come along now, Y/N! Natalia is back from her dances with Mr. Rogers! Oh. My apologies, Ms. Lewis, I’ll have to steal my daughter away.”

“It won’t matter, Mrs. Stark. I had a gentleman already lined up for this song! Heavens, I better find him.” Darcy runs off. 

Mrs. Stark drags Y/N by the wrist, all the way to were Natalia, Mr. Rogers and oh. Him. And suddenly, Y/N doesn’t know what he is to her. 

And for a while, they engage in conversation about poetry, the country, music, and more. 

But what Y/N doesn’t realize, dear reader, is that our dear Mr. Barnes - ehem- James. Couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Nonetheless, that is a story for another time. 

“You do know, Mr. Rogers, my Natalia was and is still considered the beauty of the county.” Mrs. Stark says, hoping to prompt the man to do something, anything.

“Mother!” both Natalia and Y/N scold at the same time. They couldn’t believe their eyes.

“Hush! A couple of years ago, a nice young man did write her some pretty verses, and I was sure he would make her an offer.” 

“Well, um, frankly, Mrs. Stark, I-” no one would’ve ever thought that they would see Mr. Rogers like this. 

Y/N on the other hand, chuckles. “Who would have ever thought poetry would the food of driving away love?”

Mr. Barnes gives her a stern glare. “I thought poetry was the food of love.” 

“Possibly. I personally have thought of it not as a promise, but a solicitation of sorts.” He gives her another glare.

“Ms. Stark I pray that when one is completely, utterly, and foolishly in love, they do not solicit, they give.”

“My, my. Who would've thought? While I do respect your opinion, not everyone is the same. Just like you seem to not even solicit a slight politeness to those you’ve just met!”

“Ms. Stark!”

“Goodbye, Mr. Barnes, you have been lovely company.”

~~~~~~

LATER THAT NIGHT

After lighting the last candle in the room, Y/N blew out the match in her fingers and joined her sister in their shared bed for the night. Natalia smiles at her.

“Mr. Rogers is exactly what every man ought to be.” She whispers, faintly. If Y/N hadn’t been there, she might have missed it.

“As well as handsome, tall, and conveniently rich?” Y/N asks, in a teasing tone. 

“Oh hush! You know I don’t look for that!”

“But it doesn’t bother one now does it?”

Natalia blurts into a fit of giggles. “I guess not.”

~~~~~~

THE NEXT MORNING

This morning in the Stark household is like any other. Chickens clucking, the cow is mooing, as well as the breakfast sausages sizzling can be heard from, the kitchen, where the staff is preparing the first meal of the day for the family. 

And most definitely NOT out of the normal is the girls talking about the previous night’s ball, which could only be described in an array of words, like wonderful and exciting from Wanda and Carol, boring yet thrilling from Jane, and a bumble of words from Jane and Carol. 

“Ms. Bennet! Ms. Bennet!” Jarvis, one of the servants, runs to the table quickly, with a paper in hand. “Letter for you, Ms. Bennet. From Netherfield, the letter is!”

Silence falls upon the dining room as the words fly out of his mouth. 

“Well open it, Natalia! Don’t keep us waiting!” Mrs. Stark pleads with the daughter.

“Yea open it, Natalia!” Wanda says in a teasing tone.

“Oh hush, you! I’m going, I’m going!”  Natalia, says, waiting no more time before opening the letter. She skims over it, before looking back up.

“Well tell us, dear. What does he say?” Mr. Starks says form his end of the table.

“Her, momma, her. Sarah Rogers... has invited me to dine with her.

Oh dear.

[soft-din]

sfw alphabet for din djarin

summary: Pretty much exactly what the title says. A safe-for-work alphabet for our favorite tin can man.

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

warnings: Just fluff as usual.

word count: 2.8k

ao3 | masterlist

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Din is usually only openly affectionate with you (or Grogu) when the three of you are alone. When others are around, he doesn’t want his love to be used as leverage against any of you. This is why the end of the day is always your favorite time - it’s when you can lie in bed with him and talk about anything you need to or even just admire the face you love but don’t see nearly enough until you fall asleep. However, there are ways Din shows affection when you’re not alone. It’s in how he keeps a protective hand on the small of your back as you’re walking, or never hesitates to make sure you’re doing okay. All in all, he is a pretty affectionate person, but he has to be in a very specific environment in order to allow himself to show it. He loves resting your foreheads together, with or without the helmet, and his heart always leaps a little when you hold hands (especially without the gloves - skin to skin contact is something he doesn’t experience very often, so it means a lot).

B: Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He is literally such a good friend. Once he makes that initial connection with a person, he’s pretty much ride-or-die. Din takes friendship very seriously, and you can count on him asking you for help whenever he needs it. The friendship would start when you first meet, when he sees you working at a cantina and notices how well you interact with Grogu. He had been looking for someone to help with the kid for a while, and so works up the nerve to ask if you’d be willing to be that person. After you say yes, the friendship just evolves from there.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Din does like to cuddle, after you’ve been together for a while. When the baby has been put to bed and it’s just the two of you awake in the Razor Crest, cuddling is something he likes doing. It’s comforting to him after a long day. He’s never really cuddled with someone before though, so it’s sort of new to him, but there’s nothing quite like lying in his bed after it’s dark or when you’re in hyperspace. He’ll hold you close to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, running his fingers through your hair and whispering words softly in Basic and Mando’a.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He definitely wants to settle down with you eventually. It’s always been a secret dream of his that he’d find a special person to share a home with, and he’s so glad that that person is you. Din may not be used to the whole domestic thing, but he catches on very quickly. He’s surprisingly decent at cooking and cleaning, once he gets used to it. Seeing him working in the kitchen making you and Grogu a meal, his helmet off and a content smile on his face, is a sight you’ll always treasure.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Din would be very gentle about the whole situation. Once he realized that he wanted/needed to break up with you, he knew that he couldn’t lead you on; it would bring him too much guilt. So, he tells you as soon as he can, even though he feels terrible about it. He tries his best not to hold on to any anger he might have towards you or the circumstances.

F: Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As I mentioned before, he definitely wants to commit eventually. He knows that he wants to marry you not long after you become official, but waits at least a year to pop the question. Getting married is a very important step in Mandalorian culture, so Din’s proposal is a very special moment for both of you. When you say yes (of course), he asks if you want to say the short vows right then and there. You laugh and tell him that it might be a good idea to have a ceremony, just so other people can witness the union. He admits that you have a fair point.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Din is so, so gentle with you. You’ve seen him handle bounties and enemies roughly, but he’s not that way with you at all. He’s the type to rub circles over your thumb absentmindedly and look away blushing when you notice and grin up at him. He’s the type to brush a stray hair behind your ear and chuckle when you get flustered because of it. Din is also very gentle emotionally; he’ll never, ever manipulate you in a harmful way or anything like that, and he always apologizes when he makes mistakes.

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Oh boy. His hugs are literally God-tier level, y’all. The first time you hug Din it's with his full beskar on, but his arms are very comforting and strong. After that, the hugging becomes more frequent, and you enjoy it every time (especially when the armor is off). You feel at peace when he’s holding you like that, as if nothing could ever harm you as long as he’s there. Sometimes he lets out a sigh of contentment and relief once he has you there against his chest, because he  knows that’s where you feel the most protected.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes a while, but when he does, it just sort of slips out. Din had known that he was in love with you for some time now, but had never actually said the three words. But then one day he came home from a hunt, all bloodied up and in need of your help. You were cleaning his wounds in the ‘fresher, muttering to him about how he needed to be more careful next time, and he just said it without thinking. You looked up from your work, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, and said, “I love you too Din Djarin, you stupid Mandalorian.”

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Din can get jealous, but he usually doesn’t let the feeling get too out of control. When he sees you with someone else and they appear to be flirting with you, he tries to handle the situation calmly by approaching you and the other person and casually taking your hand or something of the sort to show that you’re together. A lot of any jealousy he might have stems from insecurity - he barely has anything to give you, after all. Just a broken man and his basically broken ship and tiny green kid. Little does he know that that’s more than enough for you.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

L: Little ones (How are they around children?)

His kisses are like a luxury for you, since you can’t exactly do that as much as most couples can. When you’re alone after a hard day and he takes off the armor and helmet, he’ll just kiss you and kiss you as you’re lying in his bed or watching the sunset or making dinner, and it takes your breath away. Besides the lips, Din likes to kiss you on the nose, because it always makes you giggle and he loves that sound more than anything. He likes it when you kiss his hands; the feel of your soft lips against the rougher skin just does things to him.

As we all know, Din is the Ultimate Dad. He really enjoys spending time with kids, especially after taking in Grogu, and sometimes he likes to imagine what it would be like to see you with his own child in your arms. Children love him and are much less wary of him than most adults would be - they love trying to climb his armor like it’s a jungle gym and your heart always swells as Din interacts with them, chuckling and genuinely happy.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Din are second only to evenings with him. He’ll always stay in bed as long as he can before he has to get up, and waking up to his lazy kisses is your favorite thing. When you’re the one that wakes up first, however, watching him sleep always makes your chest constrict with love. The sunlight pouring through the window bathes him in a heavenly glow, as if he were blessed by the Maker themself, and it makes you feel so lucky that you can admire him like this.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He will often be tired when he gets back home to the Crest, wanting nothing more than just to relax in your presence. Din will take care of anything he needs to, then greet you and Grogu before resting for a while. Sometimes you’ll bathe him or give him a massage before you start making dinner, wanting to lavish him with your affection because he is so utterly deserving of it. The three of you will eat dinner together, and play with the kid for a while before heading to bed. When he pulls you close to him in the dark and whispers “Sweet dreams” in that sleepy voice, you have never felt more content.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Din starts revealing things about himself not too long after you join his crew. Once he knows he can trust you, it’s much easier to tell you about his past (especially about his parents and his droid-related trauma). He may be quiet or emotionally closed off at first, but ultimately Din wants you to trust him and so doesn’t have much issue talking to you about more sensitive topics.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He usually has quite a bit of patience and doesn’t lash out, but if someone or something threatens you or Grogu it can turn into a different story really quickly. It takes a lot for Din to get seriously annoyed at his clan though, and when he does he always tries to communicate with you before things get too out of hand.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Din has a pretty good memory actually, especially when it comes to you. That’s not to say that he’ll remember everything, but ultimately he’s not going to forget important things that you open up about. He usually remembers anniversaries, birthdays, and things of the like, and tries to make sure he doesn’t forget them.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment is when you saw his face for the first time. He had been thinking about this for a long time, worrying if it meant he wasn’t Mandalorian or if you would think he wasn’t attractive enough. But then it finally happened after you had known of your feelings for each other for a while, and it went so much better than he was expecting. You had both cried, and you had assured Din that it didn’t matter what he looked like (but that, for the record, you found him perfectly handsome).

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Oh, Din is very protective. He’s always nervous when you go with him on hunts, so you usually stay at the Crest with the kid while he does his job. You have gone with him on occasion, however, and those times were certainly an experience. One time the quarry looked at you weird and you had to calm Din down and tell him that you weren’t offended. The way that you protect him, however, is in a different way. You protect him in the middle of the night, when he wakes from dreams - nightmares - about his past or losing you or any number of terrible things. You’ll run your hands down his back comfortingly, whispering words of affirmation and just holding him until he dozes off again. It means everything to Din that you protect him just as much as he does you, albeit in your individual ways.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He definitely tries. His love language is acts of service, so Din will always work hard to make sure you’re happy. You’re an artist and you need some new pencils? Great, he’s going to the nearest town to get you some. Grogu needs to be taken care of in the middle of the night? He’s letting you sleep. He puts a lot of effort into being your partner, because he’s not used to having a significant other and he wants to get it right.

U: Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Din tries to understand your emotions. He really does. But sometimes he just doesn’t get why you’re feeling a certain way, especially when you’re mad at him. Usually in these scenarios, you have to just sit him down and tell him why you’re upset. He feels his emotions very deeply, but he’s used to bottling them up and literally hiding them behind a mask. Having you around being much more open about what you’re feeling takes some getting used to.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He is literally 0% concerned. No one seeing your face for years on end will do that to a person. At first Din was worried about how you would react to seeing him, but that wasn’t really out of vanity. He has a bad case of helmet hair? Eh. He hasn’t shaved in a week? Things could be worse. He does like it when you praise him though, calling him beautiful and handsome. It’s something he wishes he could believe, if he’s being completely honest with himself.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. You’re part of his clan, after all, and when Din is out on a job and can’t see you for several days it’s very hard for him. When this pain becomes almost unbearable, he just tells himself that he needs to get done as soon as possible and stay safe so he can come back to you. Seeing your smiling face after so long away from you always makes him feel like the last puzzle piece is finally connecting.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Din loves to talk. Most people don’t know this about him, but when it’s just you, Din, and the kid, he’ll talk a lot more than he would around anyone else. When the two of you are lying alone in the dark before you sleep, he’ll ramble on and on and you love it. The sound of his voice, especially unmodulated, is probably your favorite sound in the galaxy, so you’ll just listen to him until you doze off, a slight smile on your face.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like being away from you and Grogu for long periods of time, or spending excessive time around droids (the whole experience with IG-11 helped, a lot actually, but it can still trigger him from time to time). In a partner, it’s important to Din that they respect his Creed. He’s already sort of on thin ice about it, and he wants to be able to work it all out for himself without having somebody influencing him. Asking genuine questions is fine, but blatant disrespect for it is something he won’t go for.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleeping habit of theirs?)

Din will work himself to the bone all day without hardly any time for rest, so sometimes when he gets home he is out and there is no way you’re waking him up. He’ll usually make it to the bed but sometimes he’ll just end up on the floor, completely exhausted. You take off the bulkiest parts of his armor before letting him sleep, knowing that what time he’ll allow himself to get is important. 

[lisinfleur]

MOTHERFUCKER

The request:

Author’s Notes | When I first wrote "Hey Daddy" for you, I remember I did the best I could to create the sweetest environment and the cutest scenes with Hvitserk and the child of that fiction, trying as much as I could to avoid the Reader showing any kind of love involvement with Hvitserk exactly because I wanted that to be a paternal/parental fiction as you asked me to. I even included a love relationship for him with Thora, a child to come, a great friendship... I wanted to portray the most familiar scene I could.

And I did it all because I remember I felt your sadness with his deployment. I felt the weight of your heart and I wanted with all my soul to soothe your pain.

Then he comes and ruins it. Then he comes and steps over it.

I feel like someone who cared so much for a flower just to see a bastard running over it with a car. And this fiction is the reflection of what I wanted to do with your bastard of a husband for what he did to my precious flower.

However, even crushed, it is still my flower. Even hurt, it is still my flower. And I know it's strong enough to grow back. I know you are strong enough to surpass this, love. I know, with the time and the right amount of care and love, you will bloom again. I believe in you, my sweet sweetheart. And I'll be here whenever you need, for anything I can.

I love you with all my heart. And I'll be praying to the gods to make you happy and avoiding myself from praying Thor to smite him dead!

Special thanks to @honestsycrets for helping me with the editing (and having my back during a breakdown over my English skills. You’re my everything, babe!)

Universe |Vikings

Pairing | Sigurd x Reader (implicit)

Info |Viking Age AU, requested by anon

Words | 4471

⁑ Warnings: This is part two of the fiction "Hey Daddy". If you liked the environment of the last part, I strongly suggest you stop there. This fiction will ruin the beautiful picture its previous part built AS FUCK, but reality sucks sometimes. And I'm glad we have fiction as a safe space to give some motherfuckers what they deserve (without going to jail for it).

ANGST, Betrayal, Cheating Husband, cursing, tw: homophobic/offensive slang use, mentions to violence, blood, and wounds. Caution is required: the following content may be triggering!

"Hey, dada! Lovu!"

When did everything turn that way?

A few months ago, Hvitserk was in your yard, your little girl beside him, both waving at your husband on Hvitserk's cell phone. Now, the sudden distance between the two of you completely ruined his plans of seeing your children growing together.

He never thought you would break apart from him like that, but the safety about the strength of your friendship simply vanished since your husband came home. Buying a house beside yours now sounded like a silly idea...

First, it was completely acceptable in his mind: you spent a lot of time away from your husband. It was evident that the two of you would want some privacy to share the moments you didn't have. Also, your husband would wish to properly know and try to approach his little girl. It was not his place to come and teach everything about your daughter to your husband, and Hvitserk knew that.

But the distance remained... And it was starting to bother him.

When his boy came into this world, you were there, but you were strange. Even your smiles weren't the same! You were happy for him, but it was easy to see you were hiding something Hvitserk couldn't avoid noticing under your mask of a tired mother.

"I just came to visit. I'm fine, Hvitserk! Don't worry! You know: just the terrible two..."

Hvitserk didn't buy that bullshit.

After months without a single manifestation of yours, Hvitserk started thinking your husband could've fallen for the rumors spread about the two of you. So, he decided to go to your house; but not to speak to you.

"Hvitserk?"

You opened just a breach of your door, for his major surprise: you'd never left him outside of your house before.

"Y/N? Are you ok?"

"Yes, yes I'm... I'm ok... What do you need?"

There it was... The distance. The fake smiles. You were skinnier, eyes marked by the lack of sleep. That wasn't the work of a toddler. Hvitserk could see you were hiding something, but he tried to keep the masks for you.

"Y/H/N is home?" he asked, smiling at you.

"I... I'll call him," you trembled when the voice of your daughter sounded out loud in a scream of visible annoyance.

It didn't take too long for your husband to come, seeming to be as annoyed as the little girl clearly screaming "OUT" out loud inside the door he closed behind his back, giggling at Hvitserk.

"Hey bro... Children, uh? Get yourself prepared, my man! You're gonna have some troubles at the two."

Hvitserk smiled, shaking his hand, but he didn't let pass that your husband was way better than you.

Way better...

"I was thinking about calling you for a beer, bro. So we could..."

Your husband didn't even let him finish.

"Right now. Fucking please!"

"Won't you warn Y/N?" Hvitserk asked as your husband just checked if his wallet was in his pocket before starting to walk away from the house.

"Pff... Let's go. She'll make good use of some time away from me."

Yeah. Something was terribly wrong. Hvitserk could see it screaming in every detail.

He followed your husband to the bar where they paid two beers for themselves. Hvitserk watched as your husband swallowed his beer like water, asking for another cup to the waitress with a satisfied smile.

"Fuck, bro... I was needing this. War is hella easier than being home with a two years old, uh?"

What-the-fuck-was-that? Hvitserk could barely answer with more than a speechless giggle.

"She used to love you, dada..." he said, remembering your husband of the videos they used to do for him. "What has changed?"

"Every-fucking-thing," your husband answered, tired. "Well, Y/N has her part in this too. I miss those videos, man... I wish we didn't end like this."

End like this?

"Like what?" Hvitserk asked, sipping from his cup.

Trying to understand what was happening.

"Oh, brother, you have no idea of the fucking tsunami that washed that house. Damn, bro... Keep yourself home as much as you can and don't you DARE to think about doing anything for yourself in a whole year out of anything familiar to you, dude, or they come from princesses to bitches in a second! I mean..." your husband started, catching Hvitserk's attention for the fact that he was talking about you.

You.

The sweetest woman in this world!

Your husband was speaking about you like that...

Hvitserk was starting to feel unsettled as your husband continued speaking like a radio forgotten on.

"Ok, we are married, I get it. She waited for me, I get it too, fine, ok. She's a woman, man. With a child to keep her mind occupied. I was a god's damn soldier, bro! In the fucking middle of nowhere! For a whole year, Hvitserk... Fuck, man, we have our needs!"

Hvitserk's fingers got tighter on his cup. The more he was hearing, the more he could understand what happened to you. However, he chose to keep himself silent. His mind was floating in memories from the day when Sigurd tried to make you feel better about your husband's absence. His little brother offered you an innocent hug, and you utterly refused it, almost shoving Sigurd away. It could be an innocent hug in his little brother's eyes, but you knew Sigurd had feelings for you. You didn't want to end up feeding false hopes into his heart. You kept yourself faithful to your marriage vows until the end.

"I found somebody to fuck. What's the matter? I wanted to release my balls, nothing too big. The problem is that I got the bitch knocked and now Y/N is freaking out!" he sighed as if he was the biggest victim of that whole situation.

"Hnn..." Hvitserk hummed just to get him speaking.

One of his hands on his phone texting Sigurd.

"Go to Y/N's house, tell her to pack her things, and take her out of that place. Tell her I sent you there. Call Ivar, tell him to help her with the divorce papers. Y/H/N has been cheating on her and I'm about to smack a bitch, brother..."

Your husband was still talking when Hvitserk started slowly drinking his beer. He wouldn't waste good beer... But in his mind, Sigurd had until that beer was over in his cup to get you out of that place before he could fuck your husband's life.

In the meantime,  Sigurd didn't even argue. After that message came, he took his phone and called Ivar immediately.

"What the fuck do you..."

"Call our lawyers, Ivar. And tell them to prepare Y/N's divorce. Hvitserk just told me Y/H/N has been cheating on her and I'm taking her out of that house now."

"He's been what?"

Ivar's voice was never that loud. Sigurd didn't even have to keep holding his phone to hear his little brother's exclamation as he was turning on his car.

"You've heard me, Y/N's is..."

It was Ivar's time to cut him with an answer.

"Moving. And divorced. I'll call you back later."

"Fine," Sigurd answered, driving towards your house.

His knocks on your door mixing with the sound of your daughter crying once again.

"Just a second!" you asked.

But the door was opened minutes later, visibly after you cleaned your face from the tears you thought you could hide from whoever was your visitor.

"Sigurd?"

Hvitserk's brother at your door confused you at the same time it threw your mind into memories.

You should've accepted him. You should've left your husband months ago... Sigurd was such a sweet man! You were sure he would never do such a thing as your husband did. But you just smiled, trying to keep up your fading mask.

"What's happening? How can I..."

"I know everything," he said, directly.

Shattering your disguise in a million pieces with his blues so deep inside your eyes.

"I know what he's done to you, I know you're suffering... Hvitserk sent me here to take you and your daughter away from his reach."

You didn't want to keep playing your husband's game. You were traumatized, scared, sad, hurt, angry... You didn't want your marriage to end like that!

But was it your fault?

How long could you handle your daughter's cries begging you to send him away?

She hated him after learning he had another child. She hated the idea of him having someone else when she knew the two of you were waiting for him. She was little, but she understood what her father had done. Even a toddler knew it was wrong!

It broke your heart when Sigurd extended his hand towards you.

"Please, Y/N... Let us help you."

Along with your heart, the dam in your eyes broke down, releasing the cry of despair and disappointment you were never able to put out. Not with your husband forcing you into that play-house game you couldn't handle any longer.

"Take me outta here... Please, Sigurd, take me anywhere... I can't handle this anymore. I can't!" you crumbled, feeling Sigurd's hands embracing you when you finally opened your door for someone else that wasn't your husband.

Upon your shoulders, Sigurd could see how messy your life was: your house was a jumble of beer cans, male shoes, childish toys everywhere... Your sink was full - something he knew you utterly hated! Your daughter was sitting alone in the living room, still sobbing while watching the cartoons you always said you would never use for moments of peace to yourself.

Your dream was shattered inside that house, and you were living a nightmare.

"Make it stop... Please make it stop..." You begged, feeling Sigurd’s embrace becoming slightly tighter.

"It's over now, love. We'll take you out of this place with your child. Ivar will help you to get rid of his name and we'll set you free."

Not a single mention to his long-time wish to take your husband's place inside your heart. Not a single sign of the feelings you knew Sigurd had silenced into his heart when you chose Y/H/N.

Your heart clenched inside your chest.

"I should've married you," you mumbled, lifting your eyes to feel Sigurd's thumb caressing your face.

"You followed your heart. You did the right thing. He's wrong, Y/N. Don't blame yourself, babe. First, we save you and your child from this nightmare. Then... Then we see. Uh?" he said, tender.

You knew he was respecting your moment. Sigurd knew it wasn't time for his feelings now. He was a good man.

And he was right.

"I'll pack my things," you said.

Sigurd nodded in agreement.

"Don't mind the extra. Take your little doll's toys and clothes, your clothes, and documents. We'll help you with everything, sweetheart." he granted.

Waking your daughter to his presence when his voice echoed louder than the cartoon.

"Uncle Sigs!" she yelled, running to throw herself into his arms.

Sigurd winked at you, silently saying he would distract her so you would have time to pack everything.

You packed what was needed and Sigurd took you and your daughter "for a ride," you said - avoiding scaring the little girl. She was super excited when the two of you left home, but within the trip in his car, she fell asleep in your arms and you allowed yourself to cry silently, lulling your child.

"Don't worry," Sigurd's firm voice said when he stopped the car near the building where you knew he, Ivar, and Ubbe had some apartments. "Everything will be fine."

You nodded, allowing yourself to find some hope in his eyes.

"She's out."

It was everything Hvitserk needed to read on his cell phone for his smile to disappear from his face.

"Got yourself a troubled witch too, brother?"

Your husband was high already. Hvitserk didn't smile at his stupid jokes anymore. He just got up, drinking the rest of his beer and throwing money on the table enough to pay for the whole bill.

"Enjoy it, Y/H/N. That's the last fucking time I'm paying your ass anything."

"What? Whoa... Where the hell did it come from, brother? What..." your husband said, surprised.

Hvitserk's eyes landed on his figure with the weight of years of friendship betrayed by your husband's actions. Y/H/N didn't have cheated on you only. He'd broken Hvitserk's trust and the brotherhood he'd shared with you and your husband for years, and Hvitserk couldn't forget him for doing this.

"Don't call me brother, you motherfucker!" he said, splatting his hands on the table before pointing at your husband with his index. "Men don't have needs, Y/H/N. True men have the responsibility to deal with their dick's dryness and keep themselves faithful to the women they leave home waiting for them! You have two fucking working hands, asshole! There were plenty of things you could have done instead of cheating on the woman I saw waiting for you to come home since you were sent away, cradling your child while crying your absence! I was fucking there, you scoundrel! I saw every battle Y/N had to fight alone! I helped her! I filmed and photographed your daughter, and helped your wife to pay her fucking bills, so she could have an internet connection for you not to be alone! For you not to be away from them! And while I was watching Y/N's struggles with your daughter's sleepless nights, you were there, fucking another, making a second child while I was trying to convince your little girl her father didn't abandon her on purpose!"

Hvitserk was furious! His tone started attracting other angry faces towards your husband. The clearer it was for the people around what was that arguing about, the more ashamed your husband was with all the judgemental eyes on him.

"Fuck, man, stop yelling..." he tried.

His words just made Hvitserk louder...

"Why? Don't you like to boast around your conquers, brother?" he mocked the word for years used to put your husband in a position he clearly wasn't occupying in Hvitserk's life anymore. "Let's boast around about the bastard you are, Y/H/N! Boast around the pussy you fucked, the woman you got knocked out of your marriage while your wife was fucking crying her eyes out because you lost your child's birth! Were you there for the second one, or was it another child you left behind without even looking back, uh? You're a motherfucking asshole! And I'm ashamed of being your friend for so long! I should've kicked your balls and punched your face the first time you got close to our circle to court Y/N!"

"So what?" Your husband finally got up, reacting to Hvitserk's offensive. "So your brother could fuck her in my place, Hvitserk?"

Y/H/N's military posture wasn't enough to prevent Hvitserk from towering upon him with fierce green eyes swallowing your husband's in anger.

"Yes, Y/H/N. So my brother could've loved her, married her, and gave her what she deserves instead of the crumbs you left behind to the woman you lost."

"Well, guess what? Little Sigurd can fuck his hands, cause my wife is mine and I won't give up on her just because of one or two fights!" Y/H/N spat back, arrogant.

Hvitserk just straightened his clothes, sighing and looking back at him with contempt in his eyes.

"Y/N is not an object for you to possess! She's a free woman, and we'll grant her freedom! She's no longer in your house, she won't go back, and I won't tell you where she is now. You'll be receiving the divorce papers soon, and I suggest you sign them peacefully, my man. At this moment, my brother Ivar is reuniting everything necessary to ruin your career, and we'll put everything on your superior's table if you dare to cause Y/N any more problems! With my father's lawyer's best recommendations to kick you out for good! I can ruin your life, Y/H/N, and I will if I see you close to Y/N ever again!"

The floor disappeared under your husband's feet, and he punched the table furiously. The waitress picked up the phone to call the police, but Hvitserk lifted his hand to stop her, calm.

"Don't worry, we're leaving now. And this distinct motherfucker will remember how to behave like a gentleman and leave with me. After all, he doesn't want to get me truly angry. He never saw me truly angry.”

A warning implicit in Hvitserk's words: it was only the beginning of his possibilities to ruin your husband's life.

"Fuck it! You are all insane! She's fucking overreacting, and you're falling for this shit as if you didn't have your head sunk in the middle of dozens of legs around, you asshole! I know you, Hvitserk Ragnarsson! You're a womanizer! You always were! You know exactly how much it hurts to stay without it for too long, and I hope you have the same shitty time away from your pretty wife for you to know what I'm talking about!"

"You said it wrong, Y/H/N. I was like this. I really had my head in the middle of several legs. You're right! But I'm a married man now, and I chose to honor the wife I chose and the children she's bearing for me!That's the difference between us: I can handle one whole year with my dick dry cause I love the woman I have by my side! I'm not an irrational animal that will fuck whatever moves in front of me just because. Grow the fuck up, dude! Stop shaming yourself!"

Your soon-to-be-ex couldn't handle anymore. Hvitserk's contempt was too much for him, and he got up, throwing his hands to catch Hvitserk's collar with a violent pull that stumbled him closer. The people around squealed or took some distance in fear, and the waitress shrunk behind one of the tables wanting to call the police again.

"You listen to me closely, you little son of a bitch! I don't fucking care about what you think or what the fuck did you drink, smell, or have been injecting yourself with, but if you think you'll take my wife away from me, you are completely..."

Your husband's voice was cut by a growl of pain when Hvitserk kicked his balls as strong as he could, straightening his clothes one more time and lifting his sleeves as your husband was nursing his pained jewels. Then, a second strike came: a right hook from under your husband's chin, throwing him flat to the ground, dizzy and shrinking himself in pain; his tongue bleeding after being bitten when his teeth were violently hit against each other.

"Still wanting to play the macho-man around, brother? Uh? Get the fuck up and put yourself together! Know your crime, pay your price, you asshole! And one more thing," Hvitserk said, pulling your husband up by his collar and forcing him to stand. "Touch me again, and I'll get your life crushed! Approach Y/N once again, and I'll get your life crushed! Do anything I dislike, and I'll get your fucking life crushed! Did you listen to me well, Y/H/N??"

Hvitserk pushed Y/H/N back, releasing his collar. And your husband spat some blood on the ground, looking at Hvitserk with rage in his eyes but silent. He knew there was nothing he could do against the power of Hvitserk's family. You were lost for him, but he didn't want to give up so easily.

"That little girl is my daughter! You faggot of a brother can do whatever he wants: she'll always be my seed, and no one will take her away from me!" he tried.

"Watch me, my friend!" Hvitserk mocked, ironic. "Now get the hell out of my face! My biggest shame in life was to promise your daughter you would be the father of her dreams! But don't worry. She won't have her father to shame her with his actions, but she'll have a bunch of good uncles disposed to make her life the dream she deserves! And to turn your life into a real nightmare if you ever try to hurt her mother again. Fuck off and disappear! Or do better... Learn from your mistakes and go play the good father to the second child you found a way to produce, you piece of shit!"

Hvitserk spat near your husband's feet, disgusted. And once again, he opened his wallet, leaving some more money over the table near the frightened waitress.

"I'm truly sorry for this pitiful show. Here, for the damage, and thank you for your service," he said, leaving towards his car.

Leaving your husband behind, yelling at everyone as if the crowd didn't have a bunch of good reasons to look at him with disgust on their faces.

"What? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? FUCK OFF!"

Hvitserk just ignored the yelling, driving away. He was ready to really ruin your husband's career and his life if it was necessary, but now it was time to take care of what was really important.

When you arrived at the apartment, Thora was there with Hvitserk's boy, waiting for you. The little one was sleeping inside a basket so was your daughter in your arms. Sigurd entered, carrying your bags, and Thora received you with her doughy and pleasant voice, filling your heart with relief.

"Oh, thank the gods, you're here! I thought it would be harder. Are you ok, Y/N? How is this poor sweet princess?" she mumbled, caressing your daughter's back.

"She's fine, I... I'm still shocked," you answered.

"Come with me, I prepared the room for you to put your little girl to sleep. Then we can talk, love."

She was always so sweet! You couldn't thank more for the fact that she and Hvitserk crossed each other’s paths. He always deserved exactly what Thora was, and you were happy they were together.

If only your marriage was like theirs as you imagined it would be...

When your daughter was sleeping comfortably in the room, Thora took you back to the living room, and you noticed your bags weren't there anymore.

"I took everything to your room. It is right beside hers, so you don't have to worry. You can set everything tomorrow, sweetheart."

Sigurd was smiling at you, and it was so comfortable, so familiar. You smiled back at him: your first smile since your husband came back home.

But you weren't whole. Your eyes filled with tears as Thora was speaking, and she was the first one to notice it.

"I made you some food. I thought you could be hungry and... Oh, love! Don't cry!" she said, embracing you when you broke into heavy sobs once again.

"What have I done wrong?" you asked, feeling Thora's arms around you as she conducted you to the couch.

Sigurd brought you a cup of fresh water and held your free hand as you drank it slowly, trying to calm your sobs.

"You did nothing, Y/N," Sigurd answered. "You were the perfect wife, the perfect mother, and any man would be lucky to be the chosen one of your heart. Y/H/N was lucky! But he didn't know how to give you the proper value. Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." he said.

"What will I tell my daughter now?" you mumbled the question that was tearing your heart apart.

How could you explain that whole situation to your child without breaking her image of what love should be?

"Tell her the truth," Thora said, caressing your hair slowly. "Gently tell her that life changes, and nothing lasts forever. But also tell her that you can rebuild your life, even when everything is crumbling, love. Tell her that you can be strong by yourself. Show her that you can do it, and she will grow to be an independent woman, strong and self-aware as you are. And if something like this ever happens to her, then she will know she can kick the asshole's ass and move on with her life without fear. She'll know she's enough to herself and needs no one else to build herself a good life."

Her words sounded full of hope to you, soothing the pain in your heart and the doubts of your mind.

"People may be bad sometimes. They commit mistakes and break other's trust sometimes. Your experience will serve to show her she must be prepared to have her trust broken once in a while, but she can surpass it like her mother is doing," Sigurd completed.

Your lips rehearsed a small smile.

"Thank you," you mumbled right before the door opened behind you.

Hvitserk getting in, a little misaligned.

"You're welcome," he smiled.

You got up quickly, throwing yourself into his arms, embracing your friend as tight as you remembered loving so bad and missing so hard.

"I missed you so much!" you said, feeling his arms around you tight.

"Don't you ever leave me out of your life again, sister!" he said. "You're my best friend, Y/N. I'll always be there for you."

Inside his arms, you felt the last drop of fear melting in your heart.

You were safe, and they would help you to rebuild your life.

That man you once thought was the love of your life could go and lick his wounds wherever he wanted! You would start over without him and make everything better for you, your daughter, and that beautiful family your friends were for you.

My dear LMAnon,

I'm not Hvitserk, nor Ivar, nor Sigurd, nor Thora...

I have no money or resources to move you from the situation you are in, nor the strong fists I wish I had to punch your bastard of a husband as much as I think he deserves.

But I have faith.

I have faith the gods will open the doors for you to leave this awful situation.

I have faith you'll find the help you need.

I have faith you'll find your strength, your identity, your self-confidence, and rebuild everything he broke with your trust and the dream you had for the two of you.

I have faith in you.

Call me whenever you need to talk. And if there is something I can do for you, anything, tell me.

Until there, I'll be here praying to the gods to fill you with strength so you can surpass this awful moment in your life and build yourself a path you will, one day, look back to be proud of.

There is no good that never ends, nor evil that lasts forever.

This will pass. And one day, he'll be nothing but a bad memory you'll see long gone in your life.

All the love and my best wishes!

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