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imtryingbuck · 5 months

Text

His Flower.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/n have known each other since they were babies, they love each other but don’t say anything until Bucky goes to war.

Word count: 11,963

Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of cheating (not Bucky) mentions of domestic abuse. Swearing. Steve never visits Peggy when she’s old. Bucky knew about Steve getting the serum. Pregnancy. Sad Bucky (that’s a warning in itself) Bucky was accused of the bombing in Vienna in 2015 in this. Blip happens but none of the avengers get blipped nor do any of them die. There’s a lot…so if I’ve missed anything please let me know

Masterlist

May 21st 1922

“Y/n stop running!”

“No”

“Why?”

“You have the lurgy”

Winnie and Y/m/n was standing in the shared courtyard laughing at the two five year olds as James ran after Y/n, the latter running as fast as her little legs could move.

The two women became friends rather quickly after Y/n, her mom and dad moved in next door just when Y/n was a year old. Baby James and Y/n spent everyday since they were introduced to each other, together.

“Those two…” Winnie laughed with a shake of her head as James finally grabs ahold of Y/n, her screams of laughter makes both mothers laugh along.

That was until the screams of laughter turns in to screams of pain.

James tripped over a loose concrete slab, in turn knocking into Y/n causing her to fall face first on the ground. Smacking her face and cracking her tooth.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry Y/n I’m sorry” James cried backing up as their mothers came rushing over. His tiny hands shook as tears streamed down his puffy cheeks, he could see the blood flowing from her lips when her mom picked her up.

“Mo-momma it wa-was acciden-t I promise”

“I know sweetie, it’s okay” Winnie said after she helped her friend. Seeing her son shaking and crying as he backs up to the wall furthest away from them broke her heart, she and Y/m/n knew it was an accident and they both knew that James would never hurt his friend.

“I-it was accident” he hiccuped.

“Wan’ Jamie, mama wan’ Jamie”

Hearing her teary voice he pushed himself off the wall and ran around his ma going straight to Y/n. “I got you” whispering in to her hair as he wraps his arms around her.

December 24th 1922

As the fire crackled next to James and Y/n as they played with his toy trains and cars Y/n’s parents argued in the kitchen, from what Y/n could tell from this latest argument was that her dad had been fucking another woman. Again.

“Jamie what fucking mean?”

“I don’t know. I think it makes you cry”

“Mama always cries when dada fucking other women”

James shrugs, honestly feeling a little bit scared because of the raised voices and things being slammed down on the counters though he was just five years old he was trying to be brave in front of his friend.

The voices got louder as Y/n’s mom was pushing her dad into the hallway, screaming at him that this was the last time and for him to never come back. A photo frame that hung up on the wall falls and smashes loudly on the floor causing James to flinch, Y/n notices and takes his hand in hers smiling - she’s grown accustomed to the bangs, screaming matches and things being broken that it doesn’t bother her anymore.

James flinched once again when the front door opens and slams shut with a deafening bang. His scared wide eyes looked at Y/n’s, she gets up and moves to sit next to him as her mom screams once more and stomps up the stairs no doubt to chuck all of her fathers clothes out of the window.

“I got you”

She promised as she wraps her small arms around his body.

March 10th 1923

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIE”

Y/n screamed as she ran over to him, she was so excited for his birthday she had made him a card and got him a new wooden train.

“Ahhh who are you little monster?” He screamed when she jumped on his back.

“‘M not a monster”

“You are”

“Not”

“Are”

“Kids stop arguing, you’re both monsters” Winnie laughed hugging Y/m/n.

“It’s my birthday Flower”

“No it’s my birthday”

“No it isn’t”

Both moms roll their eyes as the kids continue to argue, heading into the kitchen leaving both of them to stand in the hallway arguing.

Y/m/n was sipping the coffee that Winnie had made her, Winnie expressed how happy she was for her friend for not taking back her husband, though finding it sad that he hadn’t been around to see Y/n. Luckily George stepped up and had even brought the five year old a present for Christmas.

“Mama where is present?” Y/n asked running up to her mom.

“Here sweetie and here’s the card you made” handing over the present and card, Y/n smiled and thanked her.

“Here you go Jamie. I made the card all by myself!”

“Thank you Flower” opening the card he smiles at her messy handwriting and the drawing of him and her that she drew. James gave her a kiss on her cheek before handing the card over to Winnie, then he opened the brown paper wrapping. “Flower…”

“It’s a train Jamie”

“I-thank you so much!” James had his other one stolen from Jimmy who lived across the street, mean kid who loved to bully younger kids.

“It’s okay. Do you like it?”

“I love it Flower”

June 2nd 1930

James and Y/n were walking down the street talking about how school went when James grabbed her hand causing her to pull it away and blush, giggling when he tried to grab her again.

“Flower stop, listen do you hear that?”

“No-wait now I do, what is it? Do you think it’s an animal? Can we keep it?”

“Yeah because animals can speak” he rolls his eyes, moving towards the entrance of the alleyway where the noise was coming from he turned to Y/n “stay here-“

“No I’m coming with you!”

“No you’re not. Just stay here”

Nodding in defeat Y/n watched him walk down the alleyway, a few minutes later she sees Jimmy and his goons running out and down the street. Running in the direction that James went she came to a halt when she saw him picking up a guy who was a lot smaller than him.

“Jamie who’s that?”

“Flower I told you stay where I told you to”

“Who is that?”

“M-my names Steve” the blonde said fixing his shirt.

“Hello Steve my names Y/n and this is James” moving closer to them she held her hand out to the blonde, turning to James “can we keep him?”

“Y/n he’s not an animal”

“But can we? We can be best friends forever and ever and ever and-“

“I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit excited sometimes” James said to Steve both watching Y/n go bright red as she continued to say ‘and ever’. “Flower breath”

“And ever and ever, please Jamie can we keep him I’ll be good forever and ever and ever-“

“Do you want to be our friend? Please say yes just to shut this one up”

Steve looked at both of them debating whether or not this was a prank, he’d gotten so use to being alone that the prospect of having two new friends scared him. But he could see the hopeful look in Y/n’s and James’s eyes, maybe just maybe this wasn’t a prank and maybe they genuinely want to be his friend.

“So…” Y/n asked getting impatient.

“O-ok, yes I’ll be your friend”

“Amazing! Come on we’re going to Mollys to get a burger-“

“And a milkshake! Have you ever been to Mollys? They make the best milkshake ever don’t they Jamie, they do so Stevie I swear”

“I apologise for her” James started.

Steve just smiled and shook his head “it’s okay bu-but I don’t have any money so I can’t come with you”

“Don’t worry about it Stevie I’ll pay for you. My father’s dead so we got money” Steve’s eyes went wide at how nonchalantly Y/n said that her father was dead.

“I-I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be I didn’t like him, so what milkshake do you want? They have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. My favourite is strawberry and chocolate and Jamies is chocolate”

“Oh I-I’ve never had-“

James rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming. Steve looked at him wondering what he had said wrong when Y/n loudly gasped and threw herself on the ground.

“Flower-“

“He. Has. Never. Had. Milkshake. Before. Jamie”

“I know-“

“I-how, how does this even happen?”

“You going to get off the floor?”

“I can’t”

James leans over to take her hand in his and helped her stand. “Next time don’t throw yourself on the ground, your ma will get mad at you for ruining your skirt again”

“Come on Steve I’m going to blow your mind with the best milkshake in the world” ignoring James’s words she grabbed Steve’s hand and started to drag him to Mollys.

“Flower stop dragging him and be careful!”

To be truthful Steve didn’t honestly mind that she was dragging him along the pavement, he was quite excited about trying something new.

“Sooo whatcha think?” Y/n asked as soon as the glass was put in front of him.

“Flower he hasn’t even tried it yet” James laughed though he did have to admit that he was also wondering what his new friend was going to think of the drink.

Taking the straw in his mouth he took slow sips, liking the way it tasted straight away. “It’s good, I like it”

“Yes!” Y/n screamed causing some of the customers to look at her, not like she cared.

Luanne came over to serve them, she was an older lady who had grown use to the antics that James and Y/n liked to cause. As soon as she saw the two coming down the street she always had their milkshakes at the ready, knowing that on Monday, Tuesday and Friday Y/n had strawberry and the other days chocolate.

“Your usual darlings?”

“Yes please, Stevie what do you want?”

“I-I don’t have mo-“

“It’s on me I told you. We get burger and fries and they are the best”

“I-are you sure?”

“The best ever I promise”

“N-no about buying me food…you’ve already brought me a drink”

“Don’t be silly, do you want the same at us?”

“Okay, thank you”

Luanne smiled and walked away back to behind the counter. Steve watched as James or Bucky as he told him to call him, put his arm around Y/n’s shoulder and point at someone walking down the street. He couldn’t help but smile when Y/n laughed at whatever Bucky had said.

The food had come and true to her word it was amazing, Luanne came back over to hand them new drinks winking at Y/n who winked back, he found out that the second milkshakes were free. For the first time in Steve’s life he laughed and smiled genuinely, he had no idea that being beat up in some dingy alleyway would lead him to be making two new friends who actually seemed like they cared about him already.

Steve knew he had made two friends for life.

14th February 1931

“Hey Stevie” Y/n sang as she skipped up to him.

“Hey Y/n/n you still doing that?” Referring to her skipping, it was a new phase she was going through. Every where she went she skipped.

“Of course” she giggled.

“Where’s Bucky?”

“With his girlfriend” she grumbled. Poor James thought his best friend liked his girlfriend but Steve observant as always knew that this was indeed not the case.

“Yo-you still don’t like her I guess?”

“No. Are you okay? Is your eczema play-“

“Asthma, Y/n I have asthma”

“Oh yeah ah, is it playing up today?” Receiving a nod she nods too. “How about we walk super slow so you can catch your breath”

“I-I need to g-get back to home, n-need to help ma cle-clean up”

“That’s okay I’ll help you and your mom I don’t mind”

“A-ar-are you sure?”

“Of course, plus I’ve missed your mom”

Arriving at the Rogers’s residence Sarah greeted Y/n with a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek happy to see the young girl again. Ten minutes into cleaning Y/n told Steve to sit down as his asthma was getting worse, Sarah tried to help out but Y/n just shook her head and told her that it was fine.

She truly didn’t mind helping in cleaning up, she had grown use to having to do it at home since her mom was always working and her step father was too lazy and drunk most of the time to do it.

A year after kicking her father out of the house for the last time her mom got divorced from him as he was wanting to marry the woman he had been cheating on her with. Unfortunately her mom married another lazy man who only thought of himself.

But her mom was happy so Y/n was happy for her.

When her father died for some reason her mom received all his money. Which it had annoyed his new wife tremendously.

“It’s getting late darling, you should head home-oh just before you go here’s some mon-“

“No need to Mrs Sarah, I’ll see you tomorrow Stevie”

Waving goodbye and leaving the house before Sarah could argue about giving her money, skipping down the street she didn’t realise how dark it was when she was in the warm home that belonged to the Rogers.

As she got closer to home she came to a stop when she heard strange noises come from an alleyway, choosing to inspect the sounds she crept down the dark path, furrowing her eyebrows at hearing two different voices she was about to pop her head around before freezing.

“Oh Bucky” a girl moaned.

Slapping her hand across her mouth she started to stumble back. Of course she knew that James was going to be having sex, he was handsome and every girl wanted him, and of course she knew what they was doing she wasn’t stupid but hearing what followed after the girl moaned broke her heart.

He called his girlfriend Flower.

The name that he had always called her he was now calling someone else it. It was her nickname that he gave her since they was four and now he was calling some girl he had been dating for two months her name.

It broke her heart.

For three weeks she had managed to successfully avoid James she knew it was silly for not talking to her best friend over a nickname that he had every right to call someone else but she just couldn’t help but feel down knowing that she wasn’t his flower anymore.

“Y/n, Bucky and Steve’s here for you” her mom shouted from the door, she could hear her talking to them from where she was stood at from the top of the stairs.

Her heart dropped when her mom told both boys just to head up to her room. Scrambling and knocking over her little brother she ran into her room, shutting the door quietly before jumping on the springy mattress causing the metal bed frame to squeak loudly.

“Knock knock little monster” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Come in” and she also knew that he would be frowning at her response, it wasn’t the usual one she gave him.

“Hi Flower” if he noticed her tensing he didn’t say anything about it.

“Hi Y/n/n”

“Hi boys. What are you doing here?”

“Missed you, you haven’t been around much” James said watching her reaction.

“I’ve been busy” she shrugged. It wasn’t a total lie but wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Doing?” James knew that she was lying, whenever she did she could never look him in the eyes.

“Things”

“What kind of things?”

“Things James! I do not understand why you are so nosey”

“Because I miss my Flower” stating it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He frowned when she flinched at his nickname for her. “W-what was that for? Why did you flinch”

“I-I don’t know what your talking about”

“You flinched when I called you Flower”

“You did Y/n” Steve interrupted, he did hate having to come in between his best friends but he knew that if he didn’t it would probably go on and on.

“I-“ sighing with a huff she shrugged her shoulders. She knew James better than anyone she knew he wasn’t going to give up any time soon. “I heard you”

“Heard me? What are you talking about?”

“Calling your girlfriend Flower”

“I-I’ve never-”

“In the alleyway when you were having sex”

Steve shifted awkwardly on his feet whilst James stood still like a statue. He couldn’t understand what the problem was, so what he was having sex at least it was with his girlfriend, why would his best friend be upset about that?

“You called her Flower James.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“I-you-it-“

“Whatever it’s just a nickname right? I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you in weeks but it hurt Jamie, but she’s your girlfriend-“

“I broke up with her”

“Right…so can we be friends again?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I broke up with her?”

“No. I just want to be your flower again”

“You’ve always have been Y/n, nobody will take that away from you”

Sliding off the bed she jumped on James, wrapping her arms and legs around him hugging him like she had never done before.

Yes it hurt because he had called someone else the name he had given her but she realised she was being silly for not talking to him over it, he was her best friend as well as Steve and that’s all that mattered.

December 10th 1941

The Second World War had been going on for three years and now America was getting involved after the attack on Pearl Harbour, it’s all everyone spoke about, before there was young men leaving their homes and families to go over to Britain to help fight, a fight they had no reason to be apart off other than to help beat the bad guys, now no one had a choice but to fight.

When James told Y/n that he too enlisted in the army it crushed her heart, she knew he was doing it to help defend his country but that didn’t stop her from being scared. Scared of losing him.

“I can do this all day” Steve panted as the guy tried to get closer to him and Y/n. Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Steve’s confidence, she knew that he could not in fact do this all day. His asthma was getting the better of him.

Just as Steve was about to leap forward to defend himself and Y/n the guy was pulled away by the scruff of his jacket.

“Pick on someone your own size” James kicked the guy away, watching as the bully scramble away.

Y/n and Steve stood there frozen on the spot at seeing James dressed in his uniform.

It was really happening. She was going to lose her best friend.

“Why are you wearing that?”

“Because I’m a pirate. I’ve been recruited Flower, I ship out tomorrow” though James had a smile on his face his stomach churned at reminding himself of when he was going to fight, churned at not knowing when he was going to see his Flower or Steve again or if he ever would.

“Tomorrow? T-that’s not enough time-no Jamie you can’t-“

“I have to Y/n-“

“Tell them no.”

“You want me to tell the US Army no?”

“Yes”

“Flower”

“Or I’ll do it if your to chicken”

“Chicken? Really?”

“Guys stop arguing.” Steve tried to intervene but it was too late. He watched as his two best friends argued back and forth, feeling annoyed at the fact that he had been rejected once again no matter what name he used or what area he said he was from. And yet his best friend had been accepted by the Army and was allowed to go and fight against the bad guys.

“Anyway come on, we’re going to the Stark Expo”

What James failed to mention to the pair that he had a date with Connie or was it Bonnie? He couldn’t actually remember but whoever he was going on a date with the other girl was for Steve, he felt slightly bad that Y/n would have to be fifth wheeling even if he knew that she would end up leaving under the arm of some guy.

“-so I told him that he had to look after his own children you know? And guess what he said to me-Stevie? Ste-not again” Y/n muttered when she realised that not only had she been talking to herself for god knows how long, but when she turned around she saw the small frame of her best friend going into a recruiting tent that was set up at the Expo.

Following after him she watched as he went into a small makeshift room, entering she laughed when Steve tried to cover his naked chest.

“Steve seriously? You can’t keep doing this-“

“Why not? I can fight, just because I’m smaller then everyone including you doesn’t mean that I can’t help“

“You’d be killed straight away Steven!”

“So what?”

“So what? Steve-“

“I’ve agreed to be part of a science project for a doctor-“

“A science project? Steve what the hell are you talking about?”

“I-it doesn’t matter what does matter is that I’ve been accepted and I’m going to war”

“No. I forbid you from going”

“Forbid me?” Steve scoffed finding her behaviour stupid. He wanted to do that right thing and she was forbidding it. Ridiculous. “You can’t stop me Y/n”

“I-I don’t want to lose you too”

“What are you talking about? Buck will be fine”

“He might not Steve you don’t know this. I can’t-don’t want to lose my best friends please just stay with me here an-and wait for Ja-“

“No Y/n I’m doing this! Stop being selfish”

Being called selfish had whatever response she was going to reply back with to die on her tongue. Y/n was called selfish time and time again by her step father when she wouldn’t look after her siblings, his children. She had grown to detest that word, hated to be called it which James and Steve knew.

Steve instantly knew that he had messed up but before he could apologise he watched his best friend nod, spin on her heels and walked out.

James looked around with a smile on his lips when the flying car got higher off the ground frowning when he didn’t see Flower or Steve, his eyes darted around to find them, his left eye twitched slightly when he saw Y/n coming out of the recruiting tent he knew she had probably tried to talk to Steve out of signing up.

Ever since the war was declared Steve had become slightly obsessed with going on the front lines along with the rest of the hero’s and fight. James and Y/n took it in turns to get Steve away from the recruiting centres, took it in turns comforting him when he got turned down because of his health problems.

Leaving the girls where they were he went to find Steve to see what had happened. “Steve seriously man just give up”

“Don’t start Buck I’ve had enough of Y/n trying to stop me.” Steve told Bucky how Dr Erskine had given him the opportunity of joining the war to the whole conversation between him and Y/n, he quietly told his best friend that he had called their friend selfish.

“You called her selfish? Steve!”

“I know okay I know I messed up but-“

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No, I thought she was going to find you”

Bucky goes to reply when he gets interrupted by the two girls that he and Steve were meant to be on a date with, asking if they were still going dancing, James sighed before telling them no he had other plans. The girls wasn’t happy but James didn’t care, he needed to find his Flower.

Saying his goodbyes to Steve he turned on his heels to go to Y/n’s house.

Knocking on the door he waited patiently for someone to open, Y/n’s little sister opened and smiled instantly showing Bucky her missing front teeth. “Y/ns in her room”

“Thanks little one”

“‘M not little anymore!” She pouted, the same pout that reminded him of Y/n’s when she was younger.

“No, no you’re not” ruffling her hair he laughed when she tried to hit him, he’s always had a habit of winding up their younger siblings.

Bounding up the stairs nearly tripping over the toy train that belonged to her younger brother he turned the corner and knocked on Y/n’s bedroom door.

“Go away”

“Wow that’s rude Flower”

“Jamie?”

“Who else is calling you flower?”

“No one”

“Are you going let me in or we going to keep talking with a door in between us?”

“You may enter”

Entering her bedroom his heart clenched in his chest at seeing her eyes and cheeks red, tear strained track marks on her puffy cheeks. Ever since they were young he’s always hated seeing her cry.

His stomach dropping when he sees the photograph in her hands, knowing exactly which one it was. James had dragged Y/n and Steve to Coney Island for the day, James made Steve go on the Cyclone which was absolutely terrifying yet amazing at the same time. Steve didn’t quite enjoy it like Bucky or Y/n as he vomited pretty much everywhere.

Winnie, had taken the photo that morning they were standing outside the home James grew up in, smiling at the camera. Y/n in the middle of the two guys, Bucky had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around Steve.

It was the only photo she had of the three of them.

“Flower…”

“He’s leaving me too, a doctor-a scientist has told him that he can join if he takes part in an experiment James. I-I don’t want to lose you both Jamie”

“Hey-hey your not losing either one of us doll-“

“But I am. This war is dangerous and if I lose either one of you I-I-“

“I promise you that I’ll come back-“

“You can’t promise me that Buck”

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, you know this. And I’ll always come back to you Y/n, always. Especially if you let me make an honest woman out of you” his voice went quieter, serious, hopeful that she would hear the genuine words that he spoke.

“You…want to-after going on a date with someone else on your last night of freedom-want to make an honest woman out of me?”

“I, yes. Y/n flower it’s always been you”

“I should be the one making an honest woman out of you-wait-what?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her facial expression when she finally registers his words “I’ve been in love with you for so long Y/n”

“And you’re telling me this the night before you ship off to god knows where?”

“You know me Flower, I’ve always been good with timing”

“You really aren’t” she laughed.

“Am too. But what do you say? When I get back I’ll marry you, get us a nice house maybe on a farm? We can have all the animals you want-yes even a dinosaur even though they don’t exist-and we’ll have children, and we can be happy forever”

“Y-you really want that with me?”

“There’s no one else in this world that I want that life with Flower”

Instead of verbally answering she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding so fast Bucky thought her head might fall off. Bucky held her face in between his hands just staring at her, he knew that she would never see herself in the same way he has always seen her, he lent in pressing his lips to hers hopefully being able to show her how much he loved her without saying those words out loud.

That night they slept arm in arm with one another both equally dreading for the sun to come up.

When the sun finally made an appearance, he left with the promise that he would be back in an hour so that their families could walk him to the docks, and not without stealing another kiss from her.

Hand in hand an hour later with Winnie, Rebecca, Y/m/n, Y/n’s stepdad and siblings met up with Steve who was waiting outside Mollys with three milkshakes. Everyone walked ahead whilst the three best friends walked slowly behind them, wanting to try and delay the inevitable.

“My promise still stands Flower, I’ll come home and we’ll have the perfect life together. I promise”

“You best come home to me then Jamie or I’ll beat you up”

“Wouldn’t doubt that for a second” he chuckled, everyone else joins in. “I promise to be safe and come home to you Flower. And I’ll write to you when I can okay?”

“I’ll write back to you I promise.”

When the last signal called for all soldiers to get on the ship, Bucky swallowed the sob that tried to make its way out of his plumb lips. Hugging his ma and sister one last time, and his best friends mom and siblings before making his way to Steve, hugging Steve he asked the blonde to look after Y/n which Steve promised he would. Standing in front of Y/n he smiled sadly and wiped her tears away before kissing her one last time, he’d already grown addicted to the way she tasted and the way her lips fit perfectly against his.

He couldn’t wait until he got back so he could spend the rest of his life kissing her.

March 15th 1942

“Y/n there’s a letter here for you!” Her little sister shouted from the bottom of the stairs, there was only one person that would be writing to her, hearing her sister she fell out of the bed with how fast she was trying to get out of it, running down the stairs she grabbed the letter out of her sisters hand.

“Y/n slow down” her mom tried to warn her but it was no use she was already running back upstairs. The excitement getting the better of her. Ripping open the envelope she settled back on her bed.

***

Dear Flower,

It’s been three months since I last saw you and I’m missing you more and more everyday, how are you? Have you been missing me? How’s Steve been? I’ve wrote to him too but I know you’ll tell me the truth.

I’m still holding on to my promise I made so don’t be finding any other man, please.

I’m sorry it’s not the longest letter but I don’t have much time, I’m sorry.

I love you Flower, I should have told you that the last time I saw you but just know I do with all my heart, I’ll see you soon.

All my love

Your Jamie.

***

“So…what did he say?” Y/n was so engrossed in the letter she didn’t hear her bedroom door squeak open or see her mom and sister standing in the doorway.

“H-he said he loves me, momma he loves me”

“Have you only just noticed?”

“What?”

“That boy has been in love with you for as long as I can recall” her mom said as matter of factly.

“I-I need paper a-an-and a pen I need to tell him that I love him too”

Her mom smiled before handing her a piece of paper and a pen that she hid behind her back, she even gave her money so she could get a stamp to put on the letter.

***

Dear Jamie,

I love you.

I’ve been doing good, helping down at the factory with the rest of the women it’s good, I’ve made a friend her names Dot her husband is also fighting, she’s got two kids and Jamie they are the cutest little kids I’ve seen! Of course I have been missing you Jamie! Steve’s doing okay, he’s got a crush on a British woman names Peggy (but don’t tell him I told you that) she’s pretty, smart and really nice. I think she likes him too!

No other man will take me away from you Jamie I promise, I can’t wait to marry you and be able to wind you up for the rest of our lives together, I’m joking. Or am I?

Don’t apologise for your letter being short, anything is better than not having any from you, as long as you are okay and safe that’s all that matters to me.

I love you with all my heart to Jamie, honestly and truly.

Be safe and come home to me.

All my love

Your Flower.

***

Folding the letter and sliding it in an envelope her mom had given her when she was writing, she slipped her letter into the envelope sealing it off she ran downstairs slipping her shoes on she ran out of the house and down the street to the post office.

“A-a s-stamp pl-please” she panted at the worker.

The second the stamp was sealed securely on her envelope she posted it. Her heart raising rapidly, the temptation to just stand there and wait for the mailman to collect all the letters was there until someone cleared their throat from behind her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” she muttered before leaving, now she just had to wait now until Bucky wrote her back. Shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully.

June 21st 1943

She last received a letter from James three months ago, he told her where he was and how he was doing, told her all about his comrades, told her that he’d come back to her. Ended that letter like the rest, with him telling her how much he loved her. Writing back as quickly as possible she told him how things were going, telling him about her news friends from the factory, and like all the others she ended it with telling him how much she loved him.

Everyday for three months she waited patiently for a letter to come, sighing deeply when she never received one. She was starting to get nervous at the prospect of something bad happening to him, but she kept pushing that thought away as she saw Rebecca everyday at the factory and she hadn’t said anything to her.

Six months after James left for war Y/n moved to a small apartment above the post office, it was small but enough for just her. One night after finishing her shift at the factory, Mary who worked at the post office came running out to her handing her a letter, Y/n ran up the stairs struggled to open her front door like always before she managed to get it to open, quickly closing and locking the door - keeping her promise to James who had made her promise to keep her front door locked at all times.

***

Dear Flower,

I’ve missed you terribly. How are you? I hope you’re okay and safe.

How’s Steve doing? He’s not been really responding to my letters. I’m a bit worried about him.

I’m sorry my letters are getting shorter, it’s just things have been hectic lately.

You’re in my thoughts and prayers every day and night, I’ll come home soon and I’m all yours forever I promise.

I love you more than anything Y/n.

All my love

Your Jamie.

***

Wiping her tears she moved to get her paper and pen, settling on her couch she started to write.

***

Dear Jamie,

I’m missing you more and more every day, I’m doing okay and I’m safe, you do not need to worry about me just as long as you are safe and sound that’s all that matters to me.

Steve will be getting the serum tomorrow (22nd June) I’m scared for him but Peggy has told me that everything will be okay. She’s even said I can come along too, Rebecca has said she will cover my shift because she’s an angel. Steve’s been busy but he’s okay I promise, oh…he jumped on a grenade BUT don’t worry it wasn’t a real one! I screamed and cried when Peggy told me, then I smacked Steve…he deserved it.

I’ve already told you not to worry about the shortness of your letters, I reread every single one of them over and over again.

You’re in my thoughts and prayers day in and day out.

I love you more and more than you’ll ever know.

All my love

Your Flower.

***

Sealing the letter in the envelope she unlocked the door and skipped downstairs where Mary unlocked the door and handed her a stamp, Mary knew the routine that Y/n had every time she got a letter that she waited long after closing so her new friend could post it that same day.

“Thanks Mary”

“Don’t need to thank me, how is he?”

“He didn’t say…but he said he misses me, it’s hectic over there so”

“It’s understandable, are you meeting Steve and that Brit tomorrow?”

“Peggy-“ Y/n laughed “-and yes, it’s a very big day tomorrow”

“What’s happened again?”

“H-he has a special operation and I’m just going for emotional support” she smiled, Peggy told her not to say anything to anyone but Mary had overheard Y/n talking to Steve about it. So she told her Mary that it was an operation he was having.

“Well I hope it goes well. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight darling”

The next morning Y/n waited outside for Steve and Peggy to show up, nearly ten minutes later a sleek black car pulled up and Peggy got out greeting her. Instantly regretting sitting in the middle of two people who were flirting, made worse by Steve as he didn’t realise that Peggy was in fact flirting.

Just like the car ride Y/n blanked out most of what Dr Erskine was waffling on about, her eyes kept going to the bed where Steve lay strapped in to Howard Stark, still slightly star struck.

Everything happened next was lost on her. Her heart raced when she heard Steve screaming in the chamber, a beast of a man was released from said chamber it looked like Steve, her best friend Stevie but this guy was huge. Strong. Muscly. Taller.

Before Steve had to look up to her and now it was the other way around. He said her name and smiled, he pulled her into his arms as she gaped at her best friend’s transformation. Steve released her to look at Peggy as she moved closer.

The unmistakable bang of a gun firing sounded in the room, Steve wasted no time in knocking Y/n on the ground covering her body with his. Dr Erskine had been shot, Steve took off barefoot after the gunman, Y/n’s hands were drenched in blood as she tried to put pressure on the wound, Howard Stark helping her by covering his hands over hers.

It all happened in a blur.

It all happened to fast.

She didn’t like it, she was scared.

She wanted Jamie.

She was always safe with her Jamie.

“Y/n? Y/n look at me love, it’s Peggy. I need you to concentrate”

But she couldn’t. There was too much blood. There was chaos in the background and the only thing she could focus on was the shaking of her hands covered in someone else’s blood.

“Y/n please darling snap out of it” that sounded a lot like Howard she thought to herself.

She could hear them talking then she saw Howard standing and moving away slowly. Then everything came into focus. The look of distress in Peggy’s eyes, the destruction of the room, the white sheet covering a body.

“S-Steve?”

“He’s, he’s okay. We need to go love”

“I-I-I want Jamie”

“I know but he isn’t here right now an-and he will be rather mad at me if I don’t get you out of here, so please follow me”

Despite the blood on Y/n’s hands Peggy still took them in hers and helped her stand, although Peggy didn’t really know Y/n all that well she knew that Steve cared deeply for her, making her care about the woman. Her main focus was getting Y/n to safety and then she could worry about everything else.

December 10th 1944

It’s been well over a year since Y/n watched Dr Erskine get shot and killed, in that year she went back to work in the factory. Nothing really changed for her in that year that had gone by, months would go by without a letter from Bucky she knew that he was still alive as his family wasn’t informed to state that he was dead.

It brought her some relief. But that didn’t stop the sadness from sinking in when she didn’t get a letter.

Steve had become a circus monkey for America, gaining himself the name Captain America. When she saw one of his shows for the very first time she couldn’t stop laughing. The outfit. The way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable. The music. The acting. It was laughable.

“Stop laughing Y/n” Steve said walking into the tent as she followed behind him.

“I-god you look ridiculous Stevie”

“Stop laughing!” He tried to act mad but her laugh had his lips turning upwards. For Steve it had been a long time since he heard her laugh like that. He missed it.

In October of 1943 Steve showed up at her apartment acting different, he was quieter, avoided talking about Bucky. Y/n had asked him if there was something wrong but all he did was give her a tight lipped smile and shook his head.

He wanted to tell her that he was told that Bucky and his unit had been captured as POWs, he wanted to reassure her that he was going to do everything in his power to get him back, to bring him home to her so they could get the life he’s knows they’ve always wanted with each other.

But he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to say them words and see her smile fade, tears gather in her eyes so he remained silent and listened to her rambling about something one of the girls said at work.

He couldn’t fail her, he was going to bring Bucky back no matter what it took.

Unbeknownst to Y/n not only was Bucky captured and then saved by their once scrawny little friend but that in ten minutes there was going to be a knock at the door and she’d be taken by two soldiers to go somewhere.

“It’s like I’m invisible” Bucky mutters when Peggy doesn’t even give him a second glance, he found it funny that Peggy had to practically spell it out for the blonde to understand what she was trying to hint. He knew that if Y/n was here and saw the exchange she would have been smiling so wide with her hands clasped together against her heart.

A small smile made its way to his lips as he thought about Y/n, his Flower. As soon as he got back to camp from being saved by Steve he went straight to his tent and wrote a letter to her, sealing it up in an envelope he got from one of the soldiers, giving it to the person he needed to for it to be sent off. Already excited for her letter. He missed her more than anything.

“You thinking about her Buck?” Steve’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Of course, she’s always on my mind-what?”

“Who’s always on your mind?”

“Ms Potts from down the street-“ he rolled his eyes “-Y/n, you’re an idiot sometimes Steve I swear”

“I’m always on your mind Jamie?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide looking Steve in the eyes, the blonde just smiled at him. Slowly turning around, his heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing in his ears he turned to find the source of the voice he has missed hearing.

Well aware that his unit, his team, strangers that became friends were standing around, he didn’t care if they saw their Sergeant with tears gathering in his eyes.

He didn’t care about anything other than Y/n who was currently standing in front of him. Her flower print dress fit perfectly, lightly moving as she stands there. Her eyes focused on him as he took her in, god she was so beautiful.

“F-Flower?”

“Hi Jamie”

“Wha-how-your really here? I’m not dreaming again am I?”

“No” she giggled, the sound making his heart tingle.

“If you don’t kiss her I will” Dum Dum shouted making everyone laugh. But not Bucky. No it made him move quicker than he’d ever moved before, cupping her face in his hands he smiled before placing his lips to hers. Steve joined in with everyone else as they cheered and clapped.

“You’re really here” Bucky whispered against her lips, resting his forehead against hers breathing in her scent.

“I’m really here”

That night he took her to his hotel room that they had been allowed to stay at, and made love to her for the first time. Three times that night. One more time before they had to say goodbye to each other again.

Just as she was about to get into the car Bucky kissed her one last time, and got down on one knee, proposing to her with a metal nut - that he had found in the room they shared - asking her to marry him before she could answer he promised that once he was back he’d buy her a ring.

Kissing him she held out her hand for him to slid the nut onto her finger.

“I’m getting married to my Flower” he said as the car that carried his love away. Steve smiled at his best friend’s happiness.

January 28th 1945

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dot asked Y/n as she threw up for the second time that day.

“I’m okay. Must have been something I ate”

“You sure? Didn’t you say you saw James last month?”

“Yes…why?”

“Did you two…you know”

“Wha-oh, yes, a few times” she admitted, her cheeks going bright red.

“Do you think? Maybe? Right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You might be pregnant” Dot whispered.

Her head spun as the words from her friend settled in. She hadn’t had her period she realised. No. Surely not, right?

“Go and see the doctor after your shift and check” Dot continued.

“I have half an hour off before I start back up again”

“I’ll cover you”

“You’ve got kids you need to-“

“My mom’s here to help me, I’ll be fine”

“But-“

“No buts missy, you need to find out if you are.”

After twenty minutes of arguing back and forth with Dot, Y/n finally caved. Going to the hospital she waited patiently for her bloods to be taken. Completely unaware that across town two families were receiving the worst news.

Getting her keys out of her bag she froze when she saw Steve standing outside her apartment dressed in civilian clothing as Bucky called it now.

“Steve? Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Y/n, I need to talk to you”

“Is it Jamie? Steve? Where’s Bucky?”

But Steve didn’t answer instead he took her keys from her shaking hands and unlocked the door, pushing it open he turned to grasp her arm and guided her in to her apartment. His heart sinking further into his stomach than it already was before coming to her apartment, when he saw the metal nut still sitting on her finger.

“Steve…”

“I failed you Y/n/n I-I’m so sorry”

“He’s okay. He is. I know it”

Shaking his head the scene replying over and over in his head like it had for the past week since he watched his best friend fall to his death “H-he-he’s gone Y/n, I’m so-sorry” He jumps up just in time to catch her as she falls to her knees, a painful sob leaving her lips.

Sadly Steve wasn’t done.

“Y/n…there’s something else, Michael…he’s been killed”

Michael was her half brother. She was close with him, closer to him than she was with her younger siblings. Michael never failed to make her laugh, he always acted like he was the oldest one of the two though there was eight years between them. Y/n was the first person he told when he got his orders from the Army, she hugged him as he cried. It’s not that he didn’t want to fight and help it was that he was terrified.

“No! No you’re lying.”

Helping her stand he took her home where her mom’s screams and cries could be heard from outside the home. Watching as mom and daughter cling together from the doorway Steve let a few tears fall.

Two days after finding out that her best friend turned fiancé and her sweet younger brother were killed Y/n found out she was pregnant. A few weeks later they buried Michael.

On the second of March 1945 Peggy arrived at Y/n’s apartment, eyes red and swollen. They held each other as they cried. Y/n gathered that Steve never got his letter to let him know he was going to be an uncle.

When Peggy noticed the small prodding bump her heart ached. She knew she had to keep the promise that she gave Steve, that she would look after Y/n. Steve had told Peggy that just before Bucky fell he told the blonde to look after his fiancée, the two best friend’s last thoughts were on their best friend and fiancée. Neither one knowing that she pregnant.

A month later Y/n and her family, Winnie and Rebecca were at the cemetery, she smiled sadly when she felt her baby kick for the first time when the preacher said James Buchanan Barnes, they watched as two empty coffins were put into the ground.

She knew that the baby she was growing inside of her would have been so loved and spoiled by its father and uncle Stevie, it broke her heart knowing that her unborn baby would never meet the two greatest men she had ever known.

Five years passed after she lost three men closest to her. After she gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby girl that she named Hope Jamie Barnes, she moved out of the tiny little apartment she had and moved into a farm house that had acres of land.

Just because her Jamie wasn’t with her anymore didn’t mean she was going to give up on the life that he had planned for them. She still wore that metal nut, everyone thought it was strange but luckily for her they never asked about it. However it no longer sat on her finger but around her neck on a silver chain.

A wedding ring sat there now instead.

Two years after Hope was born her mom made her get married. “You’re twenty nine now Y/n you need a husband” her mom told her, reluctantly she agreed and married a man named Frank. At first Frank was okay, nice even but things changed only after a few months of marriage. It started with small things such as telling her what to wear, how to act. Then it turned nasty, the abuse was mental, verbal and physical.

Three years into their marriage she had become numb and use to it all. Became use to the women talking and giggling like school girls when they saw her in the store or on the streets, the same women who were sleeping with her husband. It didn’t bother her anymore that her husband was cheating on her, the more women he had to satisfy him the more he was away from her home, the less she got beaten and berated.

It didn’t even bother her that he had gotten one of his mistresses pregnant or when the mistress’s husband found out and beat Frank to within an inch of his life. In fact she smiled.

Y/n and Peggy’s friendship became non existent after Y/n got married and Peggy married Daniel Sousa, when Peggy and Daniel started dating Peggy had asked Y/n if she was wrong for it but Y/n told her that she deserved to be happy and if he gave that to her then she should have that happiness.

Peggy worried if Steve would have been mad, Y/n had to remind her that he wouldn’t have wanted her to live a life of loneliness.

When Hope was five she was wise for her age, she knew Frank wasn’t her father, she knew her daddy had passed away when he protected the country from the bad guys. Hope enjoyed her nighttime stories where her mama would tell her all about her father, hearing about how funny, kind and loving her father was always made the little girl smile. One night Y/n showed Hope the few photographs she had of James, Hope giggled and pointed at her eyes and then at James’s “same mommy same”. It was true, Hope had the same colour eyes as Bucky and like Bucky’s eyes they changed lighter when she was happy or giggling, turned darker when she was sad or when she was poorly.

Every Sunday Y/n and Hope had a routine, they would go to the cemetery to put flowers down on the graves of James and Steve. They would sit on a blanket and eat the sandwiches that Y/n would take with them, they would sit, eat and talk for hours - depending on the weather. Hope would show the headstones all her drawings and tell them all about her schooling and friends, told them her favourite colour - the rainbow that’s her favourite colour.

Y/n knew that there was no bodies in the coffins but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t sit there with her daughter in her lap and tell the two empty graves that she loved and missed them. Every time.

It was still a tradition that they both did even as Y/n got older and weaker.

In 1970 her husband was killed, Franks brother Robert was arrested and charged with his murder. Robert found out that his wife was having an affair with his brother. Y/n went to see him in prison after Robert sent her a letter begging her to see him, he swore that he didn’t do it. That it was a man with a silver arm. Y/n believed him when he said he didn’t do it, he was with his sister, her husband and their children, along with Robert’s children. But she didn’t believe him about a man with a silver arm, that was a bit far fetched.

At Franks funeral Y/n stood there with Hope on her left side and the nine children he had with nine different women. She tried to comfort the children he had with the women he had cheated on her with, they allowed it until everyone left and it was just them standing at the grave. His oldest started laughing causing the others to join in, Hope looked at her mom with a raised eyebrow that reminded her so much of Bucky, she just shrugged.

They told Y/n that they were happy he was finally gone. Told her that they hated him and was glad he was dead.

It surprised her but they were at the age where they realised that their parents marriages broke up when their mom cheated on their dad, or when they saw Frank hit their mom. It was nine teenagers/young adults who knew that what the preacher was saying as the coffin was lowered in the ground that it was all lies, he wasn’t a good man, he wasn’t a good husband or father, he was everything they hated. He was everything the five boys had promised that they would never turn in to. He was everything the four girls promised that they would never end up with.

They all kept in touch throughout the years, it was nice. And through them years all nine of his offspring kept their promises.

As the years went on Y/n became more and more proud of Hope and the woman she had become. Hope got married and had children, her first born son was named James, her second son was named Steve.

“M-mom there’s someone here to see you” Hope stuttered from the doorway.

“W-who i-is it darling?”

“I-he-hold on”

Hope appeared at the door with a nervous smile on her face, her fingers twisting together as a man walked slowly towards her. His eyes going to the woman and then to the man behind him, he was scared.

“Hope?”

“Mom-“

Y/n slowly turned to face the doorway, her eyes widening as she sees the ghost of her best friend towering over her daughter.

“S-Stevie? You’ve come to take me to Jamie?”

Steve frowned looking at the woman who was the last person on his mind before the plane crashed in to the water, his best friend who had aged yet her eyes remained the same. Then he looked at Hope confusion written on his face, she looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“Mom I’m just going to get you a drink.” Nodding her head to Steve and Sam to follow her she went into the kitchen. “She thinks your taking her to heaven to see my dad”

“Dad?”

“James? He’s my father”

Steve’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. When Hope answered the door telling him that she was Y/n’s daughter he assumed that she had married and had children, he did not expect the woman in front of him to be the daughter of his best friend who he watched fall to his death.

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes is my father…you’re my uncle, well that’s what my mom always called you.”

“Oh. Now I see it, it’s your eyes”

“Mom always said I had the same eyes as him” she laughed.

Steve goes to open his mouth when there’s a sound of a cane hitting the floor, all three turn to face the doorway where Y/n stood.

“Are you re-really alive and not just m-my imagination?”

“I’m really here Y/n/n”

“H-how?”

“When I crashed the plane-ow stop hitting me” he cries out when she hits him with her walking cane, Sam and Hope laugh.

“Still mad at you for crashing that plane”

“I’m sorry. I was frozen and they found me a few years ago” Steve finished his explanation. Y/n nodded and sat down, being ninety five years old her legs weren’t as strong as they once were.

“This is my daughter, she’s beautiful isn’t she?”

“She is, she’s got Bucky’s eyes”

“Yes she has. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Sam, he’s the one that helped me track you down”

“I-it’s nice to meet you Sam.” When Y/n reached out to shake Sam’s hand Steve noticed a glint of a necklace. He watched as her free hand went to the necklace and started lightly tugging on it, he wasn’t the only one.

“Mom? Mom your alright, your safe don’t worry” Hope says softly, moving closer slowly. Sam looked at Steve worriedly.

“I-I don’t-don’t let him hurt me anymore”

“Mom he’s dead, he can’t hurt you anymore I promise” Hope helped pull the necklace out, handing her the thing she knew her mom was trying to hold.

Steve’s breath get caught in his throat at seeing the metal nut Bucky gave her all those years ago.

“S-Steve? Your dead. Hope wh-who is he? I-it’s not Stevie, he’s dead”

“It’s okay mom, he’s a friend. Let’s get you back to bed okay?” Turning to Steve and Sam telling them she’d be back in a few, they both nod.

Waiting patiently in the kitchen Steve can hear Hope calm Y/n down, his heart breaking when Y/n asks for Jamie. When Hope comes downstairs she offers the two a drink, both declines politely.

“Mom keeps forgetting things, she’s been like this for a while now.”

“The thing on her necklace, what is it?” Though he knew he just couldn’t see it lasting this long or that she even kept it.

“My dad proposed to her with it, it’s a nut. She’s kept it on her chain ever since-well, she’s wore it since he gave it her”

“Did she ever marry? Have other kids?”

“Yes, he died in 1970 and no I’m her only child”

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t apologise, bastard deserved it”

After an hour or so the men take their leave, the blonde asking if he was able to come back and see Y/n again, Hope said yes.

The year was now 2016, Y/n’s health declining as she was nearing one hundred. The doctors told Hope that it would be better to keep her in hospital for the rest of her time on earth, Hope told them that, that wasn’t going to happen. Y/n had told Hope that when she was going to die that she wanted to go when she was at home. No matter what.

Steve had showed up one day to talk to Hope, to tell her that her father was alive after all this time. Hope begged him not to tell Y/n. Y/n struggled to understand and come to terms with the fact that Steve was alive, she had grown so confused that she started to tug on her necklace. Hope didn’t want to imagine how her mom would react to the news that the love of her life was alive, not when she spent so long mourning him.

At first Steve was confused but understood at the same time. He told Hope that he and Bucky fought and the only way he could get him to snap out of whatever Hydra had done to him was by saying Y/ns name, Hope smiled at that. Hope asked Steve if he had told James all about her and how her mom was still alive, Steve said no but with her permission he would. And he did.

After seventy years of going without a father it was strange when she met Bucky for the first time, a man who didn’t look a day over thirty was her father when she looked like his mother, it was strange.

Bucky cried. Cried for never knowing Y/n was pregnant in the first place. Cried for never being there throughout Hope growing in her mother’s stomach. Cried for never being there for either one of them for nearly seventy years. Hugging his daughter for the first time ever Bucky crumbled.

Hope was very honest about hers and Y/n’s life, told Bucky how Y/n’s husband was a cheating abusive arsehole. Both Bucky and Steve clenched their fists at hearing that. Shocked when Hope told them that apparently a man with a silver arm had killed Frank, and because Bucky had his arm covered and gloves on Hope didn’t realise that it was her father that did it.

Bucky was open and honest about what had happened to him, expecting his daughter to look at him differently so when she threw her arms around him and cried he was shocked.

It took Bucky exactly twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds for him to ask when he could see Y/n. Having to think it over she agreed but on the condition that she was the one that would tell Y/n the truth.

Telling her mom that the man she had still been in love with after all those years since she had lost him, that he was still alive was the hardest conversation she had to have with her mom. Y/n didn’t believe her, of course she didn’t she’s spent seventy years mourning him. Seventy years wishing she saw him again, hoping and praying that he would still love her the way she still loved him.

Hope told Y/n that she had met him, hugged him, laughed with him but she still didn’t believe her.

A week after telling Y/n that Bucky was still alive her health deteriorated. Hope had to tell Bucky and Steve that Y/n didn’t have long left. Bucky was determined to see his love for the last time.

James stood in front of the house that Y/n had made a home since she left Brooklyn, the two floored farm house stood proudly in front of acres of land, due to his enhanced senses he could smell the lingering smell of animal food and waste. Hope had told him all about the animals Y/n rescued over the years, told him that when she was seven they had three horses, cows and goats, that in recent years Y/n had been rescuing cats and dogs from the streets or abusive homes rehoming them to those she trusted. Bucky smiled at hearing that she had lived the life he wanted for the both of them, smiled at hearing that Y/n’s kindness and love for animals never stopped.

Checking his hair was fine for the umpteenth time in the two hours it took them to get there he turned to face Steve.

“You ready Buck?”

“Y-yeah” Steve knocks on the door and they both wait patiently for Hope to answer.

“Hi, come on in-oh”

“T-they wanted to come, hope that’s okay” Bucky explained. Behind him and Steve stood the rest of the Avengers.

“We’ve heard all about your mom ever since blondie came out of ice, wanted to meet her” Tony spoke leaning in between the two super soldiers to hold his hand out.

“Oh right, come in.” Leading them all upstairs where Y/n was, Bucky’s nerves sky rocketed the closer he got to the bedroom. “You ready?” Hope asked.

“Yeah. She knows I’m here right?”

“She does, if it helps she’s nervous too”

Nodding his head he watched with a steady breath as his daughter - which he still found weird saying - twisted the door knob and opened the door.

Though older and frail Bucky thought she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes stayed on her face as he moved closer, with every step he took his heart started to beat slower.

“J-Jamie?”

Wetting his lips and gulping he nodded “hi Flower”

“Took you long enough to come and get me”

“I know my love b-but I’m here now”

“Are we going to see Stevie?”

“Stevie’s right here darling”

“Is my mama going to be there too?”

Frowning he looked back to Hope as she stands at the doorway with everyone behind her. Hope shook her head and mouthed “she thinks you’re taking her to heaven”. His frown deepened, looking back at Y/n whose eyes didn’t move away from him.

“I’ve missed you Flower”

“I’ve missed you too Jamie. Ha-have you met Hope? She’s your daughter Jamie”

“I have met her, beautiful isn’t she?”

“She is. The best thing I’ve ever done”

“I’m so proud of you, you’ve raised our daughter amazingly”

“Sit down silly” sitting on bed next to her he took his gloves off and held both her hands when she reached for him. Y/n didn’t flinch when his silver hand touched her. “Don’t let Frank hurt Hope okay? Y-you have to promise me Jamie th-that you’ll lo-look after her”

“Doll he’s-I promise that no one will ever hurt her”

“Good. He’s mean. He hurts me Jamie”

“I know doll I know, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from him”

“Not your fa-wh-who are they Jamie?”

“They’re Stevies friends Flower”

Hope nudged Steve further into the room and nods to the others letting them know it’s okay for them to go in too. Steve says hello and introduces the team to her, each giving her a smile.

For three hours Steve and Y/n talked about growing up together and all the things they use to get up to, everyone laughed and asked Y/n questions about the two super soldiers, she answered them as best as she could sometimes she repeated herself or looked panicked when she saw strangers standing in her room.

Bucky though held her hand with the both of his, his eyes on her the whole time. Tracing over each line with his eyes, his heart clenching when he saw the unmistakable sight of a scar that ran down the side of her face.

His breath got caught in his throat when she took out the metal nut around the necklace. “Y-you kept it?” He asked interrupting when Sam was talking about.

“My Jamie gave it me during the war, he proposed to me” she smiled “you look like him”

“Do I?”

“Yes, but my Jamie was more handsome”

“Was he now?”

“Oh yes-“ a yawn cuts her off. Hope tells everyone that it was best if they left now so she could get some rest, and they do. Each say their goodbyes and waits for Steve and Bucky downstairs.

“We’ll come and see you tomorrow okay?” Steve says after he pulls away from giving her a hug and a kiss to her forehead. Y/n nods and smiles. “I’ll wait for downstairs Buck”

Bucky nods, then looks at Hope who understands without being verbally told that Bucky wanted a few minutes alone, she follows behind Steve.

“I have always loved you, you know? I still love you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home to you when I promised you over and over that I would, I’m sorry I let you down Flower”

“Y-you didn’t let me down Jamie, never.”

Bucky smiles softly at her, watching as her eyes start to droop. “I’ll let you get some rest my love. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise”

“O-okay Jamie. S-see you tom-tomorrow” Giving her a kiss to her forehead he stands and moves to the door, taking one last look at his first and only love.

“Thank you for the best years of my life”

He says before shutting the door and heads slowly down the stairs.

After Hope says her goodbyes and gives her dad a hug she busies herself cleaning the kitchen, she smiles happily to herself seeing her parents together something she had always wanted to experience.

She doesn’t know that her mom is in her bed with her hand wrapped around the piece of metal that she had wore and cherished from the moment James gave it her, she doesn’t know her mom is thinking about meeting her Jamie again.

She doesn’t know that her mom takes her last breath with a small smile on her lips.

A year after loosing the love of his life Bucky had to bury his only daughter, heart attack took her. In 2023 Tony had perfected his father’s Time Machine with the help from Bruce. Steve was going to be returning the stones, they all gathered together in the empty space and watched as Steve vanished.

“4…3…2…1” Bruce counted down for Steve’s arrival.

Once the smoke cleared Bucky had his eyes down as he knew that Steve wasn’t going to be coming back, he knew he was going to go back to live a life with Peggy. His head snapped up when he heard the voice that he always heard in his sleep.

There stood on the platform was Steve, Y/n and a two year old Hope.

“Fl-Flower”

“You died Jamie. You promised me you would be safe but-“

Bucky cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers, holding both of his flowers tightly.

One month after Steve brought Y/n and Hope to the future, Bucky and Y/n got married. A month after that she finds out that baby Barnes number two would be arriving.

“I love you Flower”

“I love you Jamie”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

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sttoru · 1 year

Note

toji x nympho reader 🤭

⟣ tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut. overstimulation, creampies, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, daddy kink, slight slapping, cum play, blowjobs, thigh riding, fingering, positions mentioned; cowgirl, doggy. he’s mean sometimes teehee. reader gets called ‘doll & princess’. separate headcanons + small drabbles under cut.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was sure of it; no woman could ever keep up with his stamina or libido. he was surprisingly proven wrong when he met you—your sexual desires were almost too much to keep up with. that last statement goes for the average man, at least.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was no regular man at all. in many ways. and especially when it comes to sex and all that it comes with. with all his experience, he knew just the right techniques to satisfy a woman and keep her entertained for a long time. plus, his stamina and size were no joke due to his constant training and bulky physique.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 never misses on the opportunity of satisfying your needs. you could wake him up at 3 a.m with the question if he could help with you with a certain ‘problem’ and he’ll grunt—surely—but doesn’t hesitate to roll over on his back and let you pull his boxers down whilst encouraging you to ride him in an exhausted manner.

“c’mon, weren’t you the one asking if you could fuck y’rself on my cock? ya either do it right or get off.” mean as always. but somehow, it increased the pleasure you were feeling already—that hoarse, raspy morning voice of toji’s echoes in your ear with each sentence uttered. it was even hotter when he’d grunt or groan under his breath. toji had one hand on your ass, squeezing or lazily spanking it whenever your hips slammed down on his. his other arm was draped over his eyes, keeping them closed since he was in the mood to continue sleeping—basically half-asleep, in contrast to your energy filled body which was riding his cock continuously. “mhmm, jus’ like that. fuck y’rself dumb on my dick, princess.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 knows you get turned on very easily just from him doing the most simplest of things. what really gets you going is his body—the way his big, masculine hands knead at the flesh on your waist whenever he hugs you from behind, the veins running through them making your pussy tingle. . or when he stretches and warms up in your bedroom before going on a mission—that makes you rub your thighs together. and you make it known that you’re turned on by him just by looking at him with those seductive eyes.

and 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 can’t deny that your horniness awakens his.

ass up, face down—your body was getting pounded into the bed by none other than toji, who was fed up with the constant lustful looks you gave him whilst he worked out. it made him lose all concentration, which wasn’t good, since he needed to prepare for a bounty he was going to take on that night. thus, toji took out his frustrations on you and your greedy cunt; “ya hear that? y’re fuckin’ dripping for this cock to fill ya up—yeah? wan’ me to fuck some of my cum into y’r cunt before i go?” you whine and nod whilst your noises were muffled by the pillow. your body ached for toji and you were desperate to get anything from him, any sensual touches would do—your pussy was sensitive and needed its release. toji knew that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just one round, however, so he was determined to go make it a challenge: fuck you until you’re leaking his cum from all your holes and passed out from exhaustion.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 loves it when you shamelessly or shyly beg him to suck his dick. you do it most of the time when he’s manspreading on the couch, just chilling and looking bored whilst watching a dumb show on the television. next thing he knows your head appears between his legs and his fingers are tangled in your hair, pushing your head down on him. sometimes it even happens in public; he’ll be sitting there on a chair or bench, a protective hand on your waist and your eyes would be directly on his crotch. he doesn’t even have to be hard—there’s always that massive bulge hiding under his pants, reminding you of what he’s packing down there.

“fuck. . doll—y’re gnna make me cum before i get a taste of that pretty pussy.” toji grumbles quietly, half closed eyes staring down at your kneeling form. you were sucking and drooling all over his cock, sometimes gagging when the tip hit the far back of your throat, though that only spurred the man before you on. his hips buck up into your mouth, your hands automatically clenching into fists, putting your thumb under your other fingers to stop your gag reflex from activating—desperate to give toji that pleasure he longed for. the man was surely enjoying every second of it. he kept you quiet (except for the faint wet, slurping sounds from your warm mouth as his cock slid in and out of it), his lips curled into an amused smirk, “tha’s my girl—taking all of it in her mouth. what a good little thing.” toji made sure to whisper those words, not caring if somebody heard what was happening from outside the department store’s bathroom stall, but still wanting to avoid any unnecessary trouble. he was actually holding himself back from ravaging your cunt instead—though he settles for shooting ropes of cum down your throat.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, who gets off from eating you out. he loves to have your cunt full out on his face—adores the way you squirm when he’s pushing your thighs and hips down on his face to get a proper taste of your slick—enjoys when he’s just relaxing with his mouth and nose stuffed between your folds, giving absent licks whilst simply enjoying your scent. he especially loves eating your cunt out when you’re begging for his cock instead. he always shows you just what he can do with that tongue of his—bringing you a different type of pleasure than his dick could do.

one moment you were reading something on your phone, and in the other your man’s face was buried into your wet cunt. you were moaning and writhing on the bed sheets, trying to grind against his mouth. toji was taking his sweet time with you, “mmnh, so fuckin’ good. give me one more, yeah? one more orgasm f’me, princess.” that was what he said minutes ago and you were already on your third climax. you loved this—absolutely relinquished in the feeling of his tongue lapping your juices up, his lips that sucked on your clit every couple seconds, nose buried between your folds. “nghhh,, wan’ you so bad, daddy! wan’ you to fuck me, please!” toji chuckles drlyly, the vibrations hitting your cunt. two slaps were brought down upon your thighs; “i’ll fuck y’r needy self when i wanna, ya hear? now cum on my tongue or i’ll force it outta ya, princess.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, who loves to finger you or let you ride his thigh when he’s busy but still wants to keep you satisfied. you’d be whining for his attention, pouting and slightly frustrated when all you want toji’s attention. and his touch, naturally. sometimes you’d go as far as stroking yourself in front of him to show your desperation— which he finds to be the hottest thing ever; you being so needy that you’ll thrust a few fingers inside your cunt and moan for him to come fuck you properly. works every time. but when toji’s a bit too busy to do anything (or too tired / lazy), he gets you off with his thigh or fingers.

“i need to call shiu for info on that one bounty. .” toji recalls and grabs his phone, one hand on his mobile whilst the other was slowly cupping your pussy, thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit, index rubbing your labia. you whine as his hand there disappears, “gimme a minute, sweet thing.” toji licks his index finger whilst pressing some buttons on his phone, head leaning against the headboard of the bed as he watches you impatiently grind against his muscular thigh. he lets you do as you please and watches your ass and hips as they move in front of him. toji tenses the muscles in his leg whenever your clothed pussy slides alongside his skin, bouncing his thigh whenever you’d rest and take a break from grinding—keeping the stimulation going— “giving me a good show, huh? keep at it. might reward ya after my phone call.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #toji x you

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wileys-russo · 22 days

Text

two wheels II l.williamson

"-so this time, i'm gonna let go." you warned as leah tensed, knuckles turning white as she gripped the handlebars like they could fall off at any second. "no you're not." the blonde shook her head frantically as you bit back a smile.

"yes lee, I am."

the two of you stood together in a vacant lot behind the adidas training centre, leah only agreeing to the lessons so long as no one would be able to see her.

you knew she’d copped a lot of schtick after the last bike incident and as much as she brushed it off and laughed and joked, you knew it got to her.

which is what lead to these little private lessons so that you could help her build up her confidence while not making it obvious she was lacking in any. your girlfriend was an incredibly proud and stubborn woman wether she wanted to admit to it or not, so you knew the only way she’d agree would be if these were kept a secret from everyone else.

there was a thin dirt road that lead in and out of the tennis courts from the rest of the complex, but most of your team mates tended to use the main paths out front so it was unlikely anyone would come through and interrupt the two of you this time of day.

the private lessons also meant leah had to skip afternoon tea which you knew she was not happy about, but none the less she’d begrudgingly agreed. even if it had also meant the entire team assuming the two of you had snuck away for some ‘private time’ but those jokes rolled over the two of you like water, you’d been together for years and leah had no issue discussing just how much she adored you.

"leah. my love you're going to be fine, you've got this alright? just pedal." you affirmed calmly, sounding leagues more confident in her than leah actually felt. her knees began to knock and her forehead was prickled with sweat, her brows knitted together in a frown of grave concern.

all the flashbacks of what happened in america were flipping through her head like an old movie she couldn’t turn off, but leah did her best to just zone in on you and your voice and block everything else out.

so finally getting the older girls cautious nod of approval you began to run, hands wrapped tightly on the cool metal of the bike as leah started to pedal furiously.

"okay lee, go!" you shouted, releasing your grip on both leah and the bike, lips curling into a smile as leah relentlessly pumped her legs.

"baby you're doing it!" you cheered proudly, launching your fists into air with a yell of approval. leahs laughter echoing around the air at the surprise that she was actually riding a bike.

the defenders face spread into a shit eating grin as she sped up, heading away hard and fast from the place you’d started in.

sprinting off after her your own laughter echoed around, bouncing off the trees and raining down around leah as a smile built on the older girls face, reality whizzing past her in a chaotic blur of greens, blues and browns as she ventured further out into the complex.

"go on, you're really doing it! you're riding a bike again lee!" you hopped onto a nearby bench and cupped your hands over your mouth, yelling out proudly after your girlfriend, who made the unfortunate mistake of glancing over her shoulder with a wolfish grin at your encouragement.

the blonde suddenly careered left toppling over at high speed, both her body and the bike skidding sideways along the road before coming to an abrupt halt.

"oh shit she's not doing it!" your eyes widened at the crash before scrambling off of the fence post you'd climbed onto and racing over.

"love are you okay?" you asked breathlessly, eyes wide with worry as you dropped to her knees beside her. "fucking hell that hurt." leah managed to groan out, pushing the bike off of her and slowly sitting up.

"well, you were riding a bike." you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, biting down on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.

"don't." leah warned seriously, face twisted into a grimace of pain, holding her leg where a large gash had opened, training sweats ripped in bloodied tatters around her right knee.

"i'm not." you lied, cheeks sucked in to hold back your amusement as even leah's own lips began to twinge into a ghost of a smile, and with one shared look both your resolves cracked.

your combined laughter encompassing the space around you you fell onto your back, holding your stomach which was beginning to hurt from laughing so hard. leah laid down beside you laughing just as much, both of you reaching out to find one anothers hands.

"oh baby you were going so well!" you managed to get out as your chest heaved, taking shallow breaths to try and control your amusement.

"yeah till my fucking body and the ground decided to become acquainted." leah groaned out, holding her sides which burned both from the fall and her laughter. your bodies still vibrating with amusement you heaved yourself onto your stomach, crawling over to her and picking the leaves from her hair.

"i love you." you smiled, laughter ceasing into small giggles as you ducked down and feverishly kissed her, leahs hands wrapping around your back and holding you tightly.

"most of the time you would use your brakes to stop though, not your body." you pulled away and corrected seriously, leah throwing her head back with a bark of laughter and a groan as you pulled a twig off her training top.

"oh god babe please stop making me laugh, it hurts!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

before anyone sends me asks about it yes this is an edited/updated repost of mine! no it’s not plagiarised unless i’m stealing from myself

#leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months

Text

The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader

Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.

Warnings: violence, swearing, blood

Wc: 1,347

A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)

Divider by @pommecita

"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.

Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.

"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.

He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.

"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.

He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.

"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.

Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.

At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.

Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.

From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.

You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.

He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"

He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.

"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.

"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.

Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”

You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.

You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.

Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.

Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.

"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.

"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.

"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.

"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney #billy the kid x you #william h. bonney #tom blyth x you #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas #tbosas imagine #william h bonney x reader #kid antrim #tom blyth fanfiction

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blush-pedri · 2 months

Text

fans are assholes | r. dias

summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.

notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3

IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.

you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.

yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.

all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.

“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.

“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.

your sweet boy, elias, didn’t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.

you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.

“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.

you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.

you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.

eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.

being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.

with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”

traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”

“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.

“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”

she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”

you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically – you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.

how?! 😭❤️

life’s not fair!!!! 😫

what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼

but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.

fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣

who is that??

🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮

a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.

when it was women on the other hand . . .

“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.

“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.

the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.

you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.

“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.

the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”

“me too, let’s go!”

perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.

walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.

eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.

“thank you so much!”

“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.

“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.

“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.

“matt!”

the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”

you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.

“—not the best one though.”

“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”

i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.

you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.

you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.

“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”

“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”

their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.

“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”

“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”

“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”

“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.

“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”

you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”

“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.

for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.

“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”

“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”

“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.

“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”

you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.

it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”

“how far along are you?” her friend asked.

“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.

“oh wow!”

“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?

“is it twins or just the one?”

you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.

“oh my! you’re so big!”

“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.

“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”

“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.

“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.

your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”

and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.

“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”

you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”

“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.

you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.

the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.

it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:

look at the size of her!

sasha would have a cute bump.

you’re so big!

you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.

instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?

you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.

“meu amor?”

“in here champ,”

something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.

“what’s what?”

“that.” he nodded to your plate.

you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”

“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.

your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.

“yeah.”

to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”

“is his room.”

“he had salad too?”

“he had pasta and garlic bread.”

now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?

someone had said something to you.

he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”

“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”

“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”

he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”

and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.

the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.

your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.

but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.

ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?

the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”

“what?”

“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.

“a smoothie?”

“for breakfast?”

“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”

“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”

“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.

overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”

“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”

he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”

you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.

you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.

and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.

yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!

you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!

. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!

. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.

you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.

oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.

he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.

you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.

so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.

you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.

you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!

scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”

“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”

“why do you think?” you laughed.

“girl are you crying again?!”

and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.

“–what did rúben say?”

“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“he won’t!”

“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”

“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”

he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.

but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.

as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.

“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”

he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.

“well the wag world does!”

“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”

“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.

“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”

it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!

“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”

a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”

you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!

“listen—”

“french models?! french models, y/n.”

“rúben, it’s not in context—”

“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.

“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”

“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”

“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”

now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.

“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.

“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”

and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.

rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”

“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”

“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”

your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”

you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”

“rúbennn . .”

“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.

you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.

his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”

“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”

“y/n—”

“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”

“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.

now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”

“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.

he was so right. what were you thinking?

“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.

“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.

“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”

his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”

you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”

“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.

sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.

“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”

you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.

one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.

“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”

“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.

“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”

you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.

“and eli?”

“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.

“hmm. ok.”

“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.

your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”

“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”

you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”

your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.

— but you were even luckier he was your husband.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #rúben dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x you #ruben dias oneshot #dad!ruben #football imagine #footballer fanfic #football fanfic #footballer imagine #footballer oneshot #man city #manchester city

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feyascorner · 9 months

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jealousy looks good on you

summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.

warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. I love morons in love,,

You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.

You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.

You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.

But now here you were, not watching him, but her.

Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.

You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.

She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—

Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?

You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.

You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.

A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-

The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.

You should trust him, you think.

He's had more experience in this than anyone else.

You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.

“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”

He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.

“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”

Somehow, your face gets hotter.

Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.

“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”

Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”

“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”

“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”

“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”

“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.

Dusting her off.

And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”

He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”

“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”

“Charming.”

You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”

“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”

“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”

“Why? This feels horrible.”

“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”

“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”

Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.

The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”

“Silly darling.”

You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #fluff #jealousy #astarion

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livebeforeyoulearn · 15 days

Text

Kiss It Off Me

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Alexia kisses away your insecurities.

The bathroom is still, the air cool against your skin, the mirror reflecting your bare body back at you in quiet scrutiny. Every line, every curve, every imperfection is laid out in front of you, stark and unfiltered. You find yourself standing there longer than you intended, your eyes tracing the familiar shape of your waist, the gentle swell of your hips, the fullness of your chest. In the privacy of this moment, there's no one to judge but yourself, but that’s the hardest part.

Your body is ordinary, a normal woman’s body – there’s nothing wrong with it. But the longer you look, the more you find yourself nitpicking. The soft flesh of your stomach, the way your thighs touch, the slight roundness that clings to your form. It’s not that you hate your body. You’ve lived in it, loved it at times, but tonight, it feels… inadequate.

And then the comparisons creep in, uninvited but persistent. Alexia – she’s built differently. Her body, honed from years of training and discipline, is strong, defined in ways yours could never be. You’ve seen her in moments of vulnerability, caught glimpses of her when she wasn’t thinking about how her body looked. The firmness of her abs, the sleek power in her thighs, the sculpted muscles in her arms that ripple under her skin when she moves so effortlessly. She’s athletic, a picture of strength and control, and suddenly you can’t help but wonder: what if your softness doesn’t appeal to her?

The thought sends a tightness curling in your stomach. What if she wants someone more toned, more disciplined? Someone whose body reflects the same kind of rigorous care and precision she pours into her own? What if she looks at you and wishes for something more – more muscle, a slimmer waist, more definition? The thoughts twist and coil, each one gnawing at your sense of self until you're left feeling small, insecure, vulnerable.

The weight of it presses down on you, heavy and suffocating, until you hear footsteps, soft but distinct, approaching the bathroom door. Alexia. Her presence is immediately recognisable, even in the muted sound of her movements. She stops just outside, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. For a moment, there’s silence, and then a gentle knock on the door.

"Hey... are you okay in there?" Her voice is warm, tinged with a hint of concern, as though she can already sense that something isn’t right. She must have noticed the lack of sound – the water isn’t running, and there’s no sign of you moving around.

Your heart lurches, panic bubbling up alongside the insecurity. You’re not ready for her to see you like this. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready. You force yourself to respond, but your voice betrays you – shaky, uncertain.

"Yeah, everything’s fine."

The words come out unconvincing, hollow. There’s a pause on the other side of the door, and you can almost hear her thinking, weighing whether or not to push further. Her hesitation is brief before she speaks again, this time softer, more tentative.

"Can I come in?"

Your pulse quickens at the question, panic now seeping into your chest. You glance around, your mind scrambling for an excuse, something – anything – that will explain why you can’t let her in. But nothing comes to mind. The only thing you can think of is that you’re naked. Completely, utterly exposed.

"I– " You begin, your words faltering. “I’m naked.”

Before you can protest further, you hear it – a soft, muffled chuckle from the other side of the door, warm and affectionate, as though she’s amused by your hesitation.

"It’s fine," she reassures, her voice light, gentle. "I don’t mind."

Of course she doesn’t mind. Why would she? You’ve seen parts of each other before, shared moments of intimacy that, while tender, had never escalated to this. But this is different. This is full exposure, in every sense of the word.

You swallow hard, feeling the lump in your throat grow as your hand reaches for the lock, trembling slightly. There’s a moment of hesitation as you grip the cool metal, your body tense with anticipation, before you finally, reluctantly, turn it. The lock clicks softly, and you step back, your heart racing in your chest.

The door creaks open, slowly at first, as if even Alexia is aware of the tension that hangs in the air. When she steps inside, her eyes find yours immediately, her expression soft and curious. She takes in the sight of you standing there, arms crossed over your chest in a vain attempt to shield yourself from her gaze. Her eyes, warm and filled with affection, sweep over you with a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch.

She smiles gently, her head tilting slightly as she looks at you, her voice a soft murmur. "Why do you look so nervous?"

The question is simple, but it catches you off guard. How can you explain the tangle of thoughts swirling in your head? The insecurities that have crept up on you, uninvited and unwelcome? You try to speak, but your words come out in fragments, stammering and uncertain.

"I just… I don’t know," you mutter, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Alexia’s gaze lingers on you, her eyes narrowing slightly, not in frustration but in understanding. She steps closer, her presence comforting yet powerful, and reaches out for your arms. When her hands gently rest on yours, coaxing them away from your chest, you hesitate for a moment before allowing her to take them in her grip.

"You don’t need to hide from me," she whispers, her thumbs brushing small, soothing circles on the backs of your hands. "You’re beautiful."

The words are simple, yet they strike you deeply. You want to believe her. You want to take comfort in her reassurances, but the weight of your own doubts is heavy. You lower your gaze, unable to meet her eyes as the words slip out before you can stop them.

"I just feel… insecure," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "You’re perfect, and I’m just… me."

There’s a brief silence, and then a soft, almost resigned sigh escapes Alexia. When you glance up at her, you’re met with a smile – soft, understanding, and full of something deeper, something that makes your heart ache in your chest.

"And I love you being just you," she says, her voice steady and sure. "That’s what I’m drawn to. That’s what makes you… you."

Her words settle around you like a comforting blanket, and when she cups your chin gently in her hand, tilting your face up to meet hers, you feel the tension in your body start to melt away, slowly but surely. Her eyes search yours, and then, without another word, she leans in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that is soft and tender, yet filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.

The kiss deepens, her lips moulding perfectly against yours, and you let yourself sink into it, into the warmth of her touch. When she pulls back, her lips still hovering just above yours, her breath mingling with yours, she whispers, her voice low and intimate.

"Can I show you how much I love you? For you, not just for what you look like?"

Your heart skips a beat at the question, the vulnerability in her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You nod, a small, tentative movement, and her smile returns, soft and full of adoration. She leans in to kiss you again, this time slower, more deliberate, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten.

Her kisses trail away from your lips, moving across your face, each one more gentle than the last. She kisses the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids, your forehead, her lips brushing against your skin with reverence. Each kiss is like a promise, a quiet reassurance that she sees you – truly sees you – and loves every part of you.

When her lips reach the curve of your neck, you feel a shiver run down your spine. Her breath is warm against your skin, and the soft press of her lips sends a wave of warmth through your body. She lingers there for a moment, her lips moving slowly, tenderly, before she continues downward, her hands sliding over your hips, guiding you gently back against the cool counter.

Her lips trail lower, over your collarbone, her kisses becoming more insistent, more purposeful. Your breath hitches as her mouth finds your chest, her lips pressing softly against the sensitive skin. When she kisses the swell of your breasts, her touch is filled with such reverence, such care, that it makes your stomach flutter.

Your heart races as her kisses continue, each one sending a spark of warmth through your body. Her hands, steady and sure, glide down your sides, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist. You gasp softly when her mouth moves lower, her kisses now trailing down your stomach, each one making your skin tingle in anticipation.

When her lips reach the heat between your thighs, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The look she gives you is one of pure adoration, her gaze soft but intense, and when you part your legs for her, her smile widens ever so slightly. She leans in, placing a soft, lingering kiss just above your core, her breath warm against your skin.

The first touch of her tongue is gentle, exploratory, as if she’s savouring the moment. You gasp, your hands flying to the counter beneath you, gripping the edge as your body tenses in response to the intimate contact. Alexia’s hands are steady on your hips, her fingers firm yet gentle as she holds you in place. Her touch is confident, reassuring, a grounding presence against the building storm of sensation.

Her tongue moves slowly at first, teasing, tracing a path through your folds with a softness that makes your breath stutter. It’s almost too much, the intensity of the moment, the intimacy of it, but then she quickens the pace, her movements becoming more deliberate, more focused. Each flick of her tongue sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, her lips pressing firmly against your most sensitive places. Your legs tremble involuntarily, and you have to fight to keep yourself standing upright, leaning heavily against the counter for support.

Alexia seems to sense this, and her hands tighten around your hips, anchoring you, holding you steady as her tongue delves deeper. The way she moves is both precise and passionate, as though she’s fully absorbed in the act of pleasing you. There’s a rhythm to it now – her mouth working expertly, her tongue gliding over your core in a way that makes your entire body hum with pleasure.

A soft moan escapes your lips, unbidden, and you feel your knees begin to weaken. The sensations are overwhelming, building higher and higher with each stroke of her tongue, with every tender kiss she presses against you. It’s as though she’s everywhere at once – her mouth, her hands, her breath – and it’s consuming, intoxicating.

You can feel yourself nearing the edge, your body tightening in response to the growing pressure. Alexia’s mouth works faster now, her tongue moving with more intensity, and you can’t hold back the sounds that escape you. Your fingers dig into the counter, your knuckles turning white as your body begins to tremble under the force of the pleasure she’s giving you.

Her grip on your hips is strong, steady, as she holds you in place, her tongue never faltering. She knows exactly how to unravel you, exactly where to touch, exactly how to bring you to the brink. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your body trembling, and you feel the tension coil tighter and tighter inside you until it snaps.

Your release washes over you in waves, intense and powerful, and you cry out, your body shaking with the force of it. Alexia doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up. She continues, her tongue still moving, her mouth still working against you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from your body. You can feel yourself tightening around her, the pleasure cresting again and again, until finally, you have to reach down, your fingers threading through her hair, pulling her back gently as the sensation becomes too much.

She looks up at you, her lips glistening, her face flushed with warmth and satisfaction. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s something almost reverent in the way she looks at you, as if she’s in awe of you, of this moment. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips before she stands, her hands sliding up your body as she rises.

When she reaches your face, her fingers cup your cheeks gently, and she leans in, pressing her lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips, the warmth of her mouth mingling with your own, and the intimacy of it sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re perfect,” she whispers against your lips, her voice soft but full of conviction. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted… and more.”

Her words wrap around you, comforting, soothing the last remnants of insecurity that linger in your mind. You feel the weight of her love in every word, in every kiss, in every touch, and for the first time in what feels like hours, you allow yourself to believe her.

Alexia smiles again, her hands still cradling your face, and you can’t help but smile back. It’s a small smile at first, tentative, but it grows as she presses her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“I find you so beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost a whisper. “Every single part of you.”

Your chest tightens at her words, a wave of emotion rising up inside you. You don’t know how to respond, how to express the gratitude, the love you feel in this moment, so you do the only thing you can – you kiss her. It’s a soft, lingering kiss, filled with all the emotion you can’t put into words, and when you pull back, you see the warmth in her eyes, the love shining in her gaze.

She pulls you into her arms, holding you close, her body warm and solid against yours. You rest your head on her shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, the reassuring beat of her heart. Her fingers trace soothing patterns on your back, and you close your eyes, letting yourself relax fully into her embrace.

All your insecurities, all your doubts seem to fade away, replaced by the overwhelming certainty that Alexia loves you – not just for how you look, but for who you are. And that’s all that matters.

You stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the bathroom forgotten. The quiet intimacy of the moment lingers, a sense of peace settling over you both as the warmth of her love surrounds you.

And in that silence, you finally feel free. Free to be yourself, free to love and be loved, just as you are.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #woso x reader #woso blurbs #woso one shot #woso smut #woso #barca femini x reader #barca femeni #woso fanfics

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yummymitzy · 2 months

Text

What is your problem?

Summary: Reader had recently settled in the Avengers Tower to be with her brother, Tony. What if a certain redhead expresses a form of hatred towards the new Avenger? Or was it really hate?

WC: 2,494

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

————♡ ————

Taking a step back, you admire your handiwork of your new room in the compound. The room was simple, not too much where it was plain, but just enough so it would feel comfortable. You didn’t feel like going all out on decorations, finding it easier to buy or collect them as time goes on.

A knock on the door sounded through the room, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turn to head to the door. To your dismay it was Tony, one hand on the handle of the door, the other holding a takeout box with shawarma.

“You do know that we had shawarma last night right?”You asked, leaning on the door while raising an eyebrow at Tony. His obsession with shawarma was honestly outrageous.

“Yeah, but it’s shawarma. Now hurry it up, it’s going to get cold.” He says trying to move past you into your room until you grab him by his shoulders and turn him around to face the door.

“Oh no, we are not eating in my room. You eat like a damn pig.” You laugh as he huffs before speeding out your door, rushing you.

“Just speed it up, i’m hungry and you’re not making it any better by standing around.” He rolls his eyes, practically rushing the both of you to the kitchen before he instantly unpacks the food and grubbing.

You were barely one bite into your food before a redheaded woman with slightly wavy hair passed by in a hoodie and jeans, getting a glass of water. The woman looked familiar but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

The most embarrassing part was that you remember people by their faces, usually not their names, so this wasn’t really a bright moment for you.

“Y/n, you’re staring, and the foods getting cold, you better start eating before your food becomes mine.” Tony says in a hushed whisper, pointing a fork in your direction, before he starts digging back in his food. Either he noticed you looking at her and didn’t say anything, or he just wants your food.

The redhead hears the mention of your name and looks over at the both of you briefly, before leaving the room with the cup of water in her hand. You on the other hand picked at your food for a few minutes before starting to eat.

You honestly don’t know how you finished your food before Tony, you know maybe he could be savoring it? Who knows? Obviously you wouldn’t, the rest of the time you and Tony were in the kitchen, the redhead was stuck on your mind. Was it bad that you desperately wanted to bump into her again?

————♡————

Soon enough you find yourself waking up from your nap. You wonder if Tony had put something in the shawarma because you knocked out not too long after you two ate and played games.

“Oh shit.” You mumble, completely remembering that you and Tony were supposed to be training at 3, and it was 5 minutes to three. Jumping up from your bed, you run over to your closet and pull out grey sweats and a tanktop.

As soon as you get changed you grab your phone and rush out the door. Once you turn the corner to the elevator, you bump into something and red covers your view. Taking a good look at the person you bumped into, your eyes widen a fraction.

It had been the same redheaded woman from the kitchen. Had somebody heard your prayers of seeing her again? You really did hope so.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you, was kind of in a rush.” You say after a few seconds of silence between you two.

“Just watch where you’re going next time.” She scowls, making you raise your eyebrows slightly at the hostility. You may have deserved it but that shit was honestly rude, how would you have known somebody else would be down the hall?

“Yeah. Forsure.” You say in a bitter tone. Had she been this irritating with Tony or everybody else? You brush it off as you push past her, everything but stomping your way to the training room as you see Tony on one of the benches, making you calm down slightly.

As you and him finish wrapping your hands, you both head inside the ring to spar. As you throw a fake left hook, you send your right fist into his stomach, ducking under his arm and kicking his feet from under him.

“Tony do you know who the red head is?” You question as you hold out a hand for Tony, lifting him up in the process.

“Yeah, that’s Natasha. Why? Did you already meet her?” Goddamnit, that was Natasha Romanoff! At least you had a name to put to the face but holy shit she was rude. You were going to let it slide anyway, since you did deserve a little of it, right?

“Yes, right when I was headed here, I bumped into her by accident. And she just gave me hell of an attitude.” You grumble, the emotions from earlier rising, before you shrug it off.

You and Tony get into position again and circle around each other in the ring. He starts talking soon enough which makes your eyes roll. He just had to talk while either one of you were going to punch each other? “Just shrug it off. Romanoff’s been like that, it’s cause you’re new.”

You side-step Tony as he throws a punch towards you, you instantly turn. Grabbing the nape of his neck and kicking his feet from under him again, you pin hin down on the mat, your knee in the middle of his back.

“Just forget it. It ain’t my problem, she wanna be like that towards me then fine.” You and him go a few rounds more until you step out. As you hell him up and walk out the ring, straight towards the benches as you grab your water bottle. Shit you forgot to refill it on the way here.

“I’ll be back, my waters out, have to go refill it.” You yell as you’re already a foot out the door. As you turn to the hallway to the right of the door, you notice Natasha approaching. Your face hardens slightly as you don’t acknowledge her.

From your peripheral you can see confusion plastered on her face. Serves her right, You mean like she asked you to watch where you go, but when you do, she all confused? Which is it then?

————♡————

-One week Later-

Training was easy as fuck, you couldn’t tell if it was just easy or Tony made it easy by simply sparring with you. You were back in your room, just lounging in for a while before you decide to get up and probably go look for Peter.

You and Peter had always got along, once Tony introduced you to him, he soon became one of your closest friends, but definitely below Tony. “Hey Friday, do you know where Peter is?”

“Mr. Parker is currently in the living room, Ms. Stark.”

“Thanks Friday” As you take the elevator down to the living room. The thing is, once the doors open to the living room, one thing Friday forgot to mention was that Natasha was there with him. Great.

You sigh as you walk towards the couch, lightly slapping the back of Peter’s neck as you jump over the back of the couch onto the cushions next to him. “Hey Pete!”

“What the hell was that for?” He grumbles rubbing the back of his neck. Natasha glancing at you from across the couch before turning back to the bond movie that’s playing.

“Just wanted to fuck with you. You wanna play Mario Kart?” You ask, waving the game in your hand as he thinks about his answer.

“Go easy on me!” Peter says as he snatches the game from your hand, causing you to dramatically scoff and putting your hand on your chest before turning your attention to Natasha.

“Hey, Natasha, you want to play with us?” You ask, trying to lighten up the air between you two. You both may not have gotten a good impression on each other but you still wanted to ease that up, not wanting to be mean with somebody you just met.

Natasha stays quiet but she switches seats, moving to the same couch you and Peter were sat on but kept a slight distance between you and her. That’s fine, at least it was some progress, right? As you hold out a controller for her to take, she snatches it. Well nevermind.

You brush it off as Peter starts off the game immediately, but you were going to have a talk with her once you all were done.

As soon as the game started, you caught up with ease, leaving Natasha and Peter in the back as you race through the streets of Toad Harbor. You can hear Peter mumbling cuss words next to you as he gets hit with numerous shells, while Natasha is quiet on your other side.

Starting your third lap, Peter was in the middle of his second lap, while Natasha was catching up to you at the end of her second lap. You couldn’t even deny it, she was pretty good at Mario kart, could make you believe that she could beat Tony at it.

You’re halfway to the finish line and you relax in the couch, leaning back into the cushions as your confidence grows. Until your character gets hit with a shell. A blue shell.

Thinking it was another player, you realize it was Natasha who passed by you as you get stunned. You cursed under your breath as you sat up on the couch, accelerating the speed of your character.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha smirking as she remained ahead of you. But your hope increases by the second as you grab another item box, receiving bullet bill.

You grin as you equip bullet bill, so incredibly grateful that you got the item as it turns your character into a bullet, flying past Natasha’s character and stunning her as you flew into the finish line.

“Ahah!” You laugh, setting down the controller on the table as you stand. Peter slouches back into the couch as he pout, while Natasha sets down her controller too and just stares ahead with an expressionless face.

“You said you’d go easy!” Peter whined as he kept complaining about his loss, crossing his arms.

“I did no such thing as agreeing though.” You shrug, proud of my accomplishment. Before remember earlier incident with Natasha, as you turn to her.

“Hey Natasha, can I speak to you alone?” You ask in a gentle tone, trying to be nice but it just didn’t seem to work out as she looks up to you with a scowl planted on her face, before leaving to the kitchen. You took that as a yes and followed her there.

“What the hell is your problem, Natasha? I’m trying to be nice here but you always just have the need to lash out at me.” You narrow your eyes at her, trying to understand her as you cross your arms across your chest.

“I don’t have a problem with you.” She huffs as she mimics you, crossing her arms too.

“That! That right there! Thats exactly what I’m talking about, you’re always huffing and puffing at me whenever I try to be nice to you or invite you into something with other people.” You exclaim as your eyebrows furrow, starting to get more irritated by the second by this.

Something flickers in Natasha’s eyes briefly as her face falters for a split second before it immediately snaps back, her eyebrows furrowing. “What if maybe I don’t want anything to do with you.” She hisses, making your eyebrows raise in shock as she turns her back to you.

She’s only one step away from you as you grab her wrist, swiftly turning her around to face you once more. “You aren’t leaving this room until you tell me why the hell you’re acting like this towards me. Is it because I’m related to Tony, cause I can’t do anything to change the fact that I’m his sister.”

Natasha’s face quickly turns into one of shock as she feels something in the pit of her stomach, was it guilt? She wasn’t sure. “No!” She coughs trying to cover up how loud she was when she said that. “No. It never was about how you’re related to Tony, why would you think that? I…I just….”

You raise an eyebrow towards her, unfolding your arms to rest them at your sides as you calm down slightly. Natasha seemed different than how she acted before, it couldn’t be guilt, what was it? “You just?” You said in a more gentler tone, deciding that you should be more patient with her.

“I just.. It’s hard coming to terms with my emotions. It’s all I’m familiar with, I always just react before I even put any thought into it…I don’t actually hate you, Y/n.”

Your eyes flicker between all the features of her face, trying to get a read on her, understand her. Natasha was opening up to you? Hell you were sure nobody ever saw her this vulnerable, obviously other than Clint, but you understood though. It was hard managing emotions, especially for you, you and Tony both harbored terrible anger issues and anxiety.

“Then why were you so hostile with me, Natasha?” You weren’t even sure if your tone could get any softer than it is now.

“I just thought that if I distanced myself from you and never interacted with you that it could… stop whatever the hell i’m feeling.” She whispered during the last six words, but you still managed to hear it due to your close proximity. Something you never realized until now.

You were face to face, your breaths practically mixing in together with how close you two were. As you processed her words one by one, you smiled softly, leaning in to the point your noses were slightly brushing.

“And what is it you’re feeling, Tasha?” Gently pushing her to say it as you look down at her. You didn’t know it, but the change from her full name to a nickname sent butterflies in her stomach, she never knew how good it sounded with the nickname falling through your lips.

“I may have taken a liking to you, Y/l/n.” She muttered, her confidence coming back to her at full speed as she smirked up at you through her eyelashes with her gorgeous emerald eyes. You grinned as you hear her say those words, resulting you to lean in impossibly closer.

“I like you too, Romanoff.” You mutter against her lips as you give her a sweet kiss. The kiss was slow and full of love, there wasn’t any rush between you as she moves her hands to cup your jaw, yours moving down to her waist and pulling her into your body, the kiss becoming more passionate the more you both continue.

You could honestly get used to this.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #the avengers #marvel #mcu #black widow x reader #black widow #natalia romanova

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arabellasleopardcoat · 2 months

Text

Daedalus (Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: On the eve of Aegon’s coronation, both of you disappear. Your mother imagines a thousand scenarios. But were you really abducted by him or is it a simple coincidence?

Warnings: Pretty mild. Aegon. Some mentions of marital rape (Viserys, we are looking at you) Mature language. Infidelity (Poor Helaena) Fluff.

A/N: My first Aegon fic! Whoever manages to catch all my Greek mythology references will get a gift ;) Try to claim it in the asks, replies or reblogs.

“THE INVENTOR IS trapped.” Helaena says, sitting down by your side with her doll. She drops it to the floor as if it means nothing, and you hurry to pick the babe up. You cradle the doll in your arms and give it a toothy smile.

Your Lady Mother sighs. It’s a long-suffering sound. You are too young to understand the why, but she is looking at Helaena in a weird way.

“Why don’t you go get dressed and ask your maids to take you to the courtyard?” She asks, tapping your head with a gentle finger. You jump up, overjoyed. You have been begging your Lady Mother to go out for ages! Your twin, Aemond, is always allowed out of the nursery, but for you, it’s a rare luxury.

In your excitement about finally going to see what he does when he is not visiting, you forget about Helaena’s words.

The maids pick a pretty green dress, that looks like a miniature of the ones your mother wears. You feel really pretty in it, so you give a few spins, shrieking with laughter at how the silk skirt opens up like a flower in full bloom.

Helaena blinks from her place on the floor.

“I am scared.” She says, tugging on your mother’s skirts. “There is a beast beneath the floorboards.”

Your mother’s gaze shift from you towards Helaena. Her face twists.

“It’s fine. There is nothing there.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror, and pretend you are a Queen, too. You puff up your small chest, and push your shoulders back.

“I want to see my knight.” You say, placing your hand inside one of the hand of the maid. The woman smiles, indulgently.

Your mother laughs.

“Of course.” She gives her blessing, carefully tracing the Seven Pointed Star on your forehead. “Aemond and you are just like your uncle Gwayne and I used to be.”

“Why is he not here?” You ask her, full of youthful impertinence. You cannot fathom why your Uncle Gwayne is apart from Mother, if they are like you and Aemond. Your twin and you can never be parted, for you are two halves of a whole.

“Because, sometimes, girls are sent away from their families, to start a family of their own.” She explains, brushing your hair back.

“I will not! I will stay with Aemond.”

Your mother sighs. She looks between Helaena and you.

“The maiden will be taken.” Helaena mutters, a chubby fist coming to grasp your skirt. You pull away.

“Run off!” Your mother orders. “Before I regret it.”

So you do. Your maid takes you to the courtyard, where Aemond is training. She gestures to Ser Cole, to notify him of your arrival, and the knight bows his head in acknowledgement. You change hands as fluidly as silver dragons do.

Ser Criston is careful to prop you up a set of stairs, from where you can safely observe what your twin is doing. At eight summers, you are a quiet but cheerful girl, who doesn’t dare stray from what she knows.

The trips outside the nursery are novelties for you. As you grow old, you will come to realize your mother was frightened by Helaena’s odd behavior, and didn’t want to let you out of her sight for very long in case you turned out like her. But unlike your siblings, you are no dreamer and you are no dragonrider.

You will build wings of your own, one day. But you do not yet know that, do you?

Currently, you do not dare stray away from the perch the ever watchful Ser Criston has placed you in. You like Ser Criston. He is a knight, and wears your mother’s favor each time there is a tournament. You find him very handsome, and like the idea of your mother having a protector on him.

Your own protector is Aemond. He says one day he will grow into a knight and slay all those that mock you for not having a dragon. You love your brother. He has kind eyes, and steady hands. He never minds playing dolls with you.

He is now busy playing with his own dolls, though. You feel a bit confused because you would never treat yours like that. He hacks at them with his sword, whacking them so hard some straw starts to come out of them. You frown.

Aemond will later tell you these are not dolls, but rather practice opponents, filled with the righteous fury boys get when accused of acting like girls. You do not know what is so shameful about it.

As you watch him, oblivious to the rest of the world, a heavy hand falls on your shoulder, making you jump.

“So mother finally left you out of the nursery, huh?” A boy, older than you and Aemond, ruffles your hair. You squeak, trying to get away. You had sat still for nearly an hour for the maids to braid you a crown like the ones your mother wore. He isn’t going to ruin it.

You take pride in imitating mother. You wear her slippers, sometimes, and practice your curtsies until they look just like the graceful drop she does when you see the King. One day, you will perfect them, but for now, your tiny knees and short legs don’t quite allow it.

“Prince Aegon!” Ser Criston interrupts, rescuing you from the older boy. “Leave the Princess alone! Come, you and the other… Princes are late.”

You stare at the boy with interest. So this is Aegon. Your older brother, the one that never bothers with visiting the nursery. Your mother and grandsire speak of him in hushed tones, and Aemond is much more open about his disdain. He is meant to be a rowdy boy, forever teasing him.

You get the feeling he might be one of the boys that Aemond intends to slay when you are older. You are not too sure why Aegon would mock him for not having a dragon. No one mocks you, and you don’t have one either.

“Is Helaena coming too?” Aegon drawls. He doesn’t seem much enthused by the prospect. Probably because he thinks girls are icky. Aemond has told you so, especially when you want to cuddle.

You pout. No one is paying attention to you, Aemond too focused on his exercises and Aegon and Ser Criston carrying a whole conversation over your head.

“No, Princess Helaena is…” But whatever Ser Criston is about to say is interrupted because two brown haired boys are running in, carrying their swords. His face sours, twisting in the same way mother’s does when Helaena says something strange. “You are late.”

“Hello!” The bigger boy says, stopping in front of you. He has dark eyes and hair, so different from your siblings and Ser Criston. He looks a bit like mother, actually, and it makes you jealous. “You are Aemond’s twin?”

The mention of your beloved brother brings you out of your sulk.

“I am!” You are proud of your older brother. So much, you do not even mind being known as his twin. He is an accomplished prince, and very nice to you.

“She does have a name.” Aemond steps in, setting down his sword. Always your protector. “And it should be Princess to you.”

“I am a Prince too!” The boy is very cheerful. The notion makes you frown. You do not know a Prince or King with dark hair, but you have heard in Dorne there is a royal family who has it, so maybe he is from there. “Will you stay to watch us train?”

“I came to see Aemond.” You explain, meeting his eyes over this other prince's head. Your brother gives a smug little smile. “I’ll stay if he does.”

“In that case, can I have your favor, my Princess?” The other prince asks you, face serious. Ser Criston looks like he is tasting something bitter. You aren’t too sure why.

“This is not a tournament. Now, if we may begin…”

“Oh, Cole, let the boys have their fun.” The tallest, hugest man you have ever seen, says. He appears to have just entered the courtyard, and you watch, amazed, as he squats next to you. “Aren’t you going to be a little heartbreaker when you grow up?”

He boops your nose, making you giggle. You find you like his eyes.

“Of course you are here, Strong. Late, too.” Ser Criston looks even more annoyed. Aegon giggles. Aemond continues hacking at the doll. You wonder if you asked, they would let you try. “I am not bringing the Princess to practice again if the boys can’t focus.”

That makes you sad. You wish to come back, especially because you had never thought the world outside your nursery could be so fascinating. There are foreign princes, and giants, and knights, and Aemond. You have to know more.

“It’s not her fault.” The giant defends you. You decide that you like him already. “Prince Jacaerys is just curious. Let’s indulge him. You favor, little lady, to your knight?”

You giggle. The thought of giving your favor is an exciting one. You will be just like mother with Ser Criston, even if this is no real tourney!

“Are you serious?” Aegon asks, to no one in particular. “This is foolish.”

You check your pockets, but you have nothing beyond a few dust bunnies.

“I don’t have a ribbon. Or a handkerchief.”

“Here.” The giant says, and very delicately cuts a strip off your sleeve. You watch in amazement as he twists it and turns it into a ribbon. He presents it to you with a flourish.

“You cannot do that to the Princess!” Ser Criston intercedes, picking you up. He places you against the wall. His face is angry. “Enough!”

Suddenly, a guilty thought strikes you. Aemond is still hacking at his doll, shoulders set in a tense line. You came to watch him, not this boy. You have to support your twin.

“Ser Criston?” Your voice is small. You fear upsetting the knight further. “Can we give half my favor to Aemond?”

Aegon looks at you. He steps closer, and examines your face as if you are a particularly interesting creature.

“Why would you want to give your favor to him?” He complains. “He doesn’t even have a dragon, and he is at most four feet. Not much for a knight, is he?”

It angers you, how he dares make fun of your twin. Aemond suffers deeply the lack of a dragon, just as you do. Your jaw clenches, baby teeth clanking together with how hard you grit them.

“He is mine.” You turn towards Aegon, words failing you to convey exactly how much you support and root for your brother. “I am sure he will win.”

Something passes in Aegon’s eyes. Something like the look Aemond gets when there are talks of dragons, or the one you used to get when thinking of spending time outside the nursery and lessons. But it only lasts a second, and then he is tugging on the strip of cloth that has been cut from your dress.

“One for me, too. Wish me luck, sweet sister.”

“THE CITY HAS been turned upside down, my Queen.” Ser Criston says, frowning. “There is no sign of them.”

Alicent collapses in her loveseat, her knees falling to hold her. Her poor, precious girl. The one more like her, the kindest one. The perfect half and companion to Aemond.

Aegon had taken you, in an unexpected show of wickedness. Oh, that devious Aegon. She would say the crown had gone to his head, but he had barely had time to learn of his father’s death before fleeing the Red Keep.

It was all her fault. If Alicent had been firmer, if she had put a stop to his transgression earlier, he would not have dared abduct you. But she had been too lenient, excusing his deviance in his Targaryen blood, and refused to act when she found him touching himself in windows, or fondling the serving girls.

Oh, but to take such liberties with one’s sister! Oh! He would have never dared, had she not encouraged the match with Helaena. It was no wonder he had turned towards you, and thought himself with the right to take. Alicent herself was to blame. She should have never allowed it.

She lifts her hands to her temples, massaging them.

“Good Gods, what will we do?”

Where are you? Where has he taken you? Some coin is missing, and so are some of your cloaks and dresses. Your wretched brother, impulsive as he was, had planned this to the detail.

The clothes suggested something long term. Permanent. Alicent can’t bear the thought. What depravities does he plan to subject you to? Is he beating you? Threatening you? Keeping you bound? Her mind is driving her mad, imagining scenarios upon scenarios, each worse than the last.

“I think we should inform the Lord Hand.” Ser Criston hesitates. Alicent understands it all too well. Her first instinct had been running to her father. With his resources, he was bound to find you faster than the ragtag team of Ser Criston, Aemond and her. But then, she had thought of what he would do when he had his hands on you.

What is a Princess to a King? What is a girl to the Iron Throne? Her father had already answered that question once, and Alicent had suffered greatly for it. He had been willing to risk her honor to place her sons on the throne. He would torch yours if it meant sitting Aegon in that ugly chair.

She had always thought she was sparing you, by keeping you unmarried. After seeing Helaena’s misery in her marriage to Aegon, and her own torture at Viserys’ hands, she had hoped to save you from that same fate. Things would have been so different if she had married you off.

You would be safe. Either in a castle far away from King’s Landing, or under your twin’s watchful eye. Aemond had grown into a violent man, a terrifying one, but remained loving towards his sisters. Aegon would have had better luck stealing you from the Cannibal than from under his vigilance.

It was all her fault. If she had married you to him, you would be here, with her. If she closes her eyes, Alicent can see you still. Sitting on the windowsill, humming a catchy tune from Volantis. Mending your brother’s shirts alongside her. Laying with your head on her lap, talking about the latest developments of the Citadel.

But instead, you are the Seven know where, being brutalized by your older brother. On your hands and knees, or with your head shoved in a pillow, crying as he does as he pleases with your body and unable to run back home.

“Has Aemond found out anything?” Alicent asks Criston, as he offers her a handkerchief. She had not realized tears were leaking down her cheeks. Embarrassed by her display, she wipes them angrily.

“The Prince… The King is not at his usual haunts. Prince Aemond offered to scour Essos, but I fear…” The knight looks clearly uncomfortable at the thought. Alicent understands. If Vhagar is seen over Essos, both continents will know something is amiss. Not to mention, the essosi won’t take kindly to dragons in their sky. Some wounds are too fresh to be truly forgotten.

“We won’t be able to keep it concealed if we do.” Alicent purses her lips, trying to find a suitable solution. When she comes up blank, she decides she has no other choice. They are wasting precious hours already, precious hours Aegon might be using to brutalize you, or to take you further away from House Targaryen’s influence. “Inform the Lord Hand. Tell him the King has taken his sister, and that both Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena will scour Essos.”

“But that means leaving the Red Keep unprotected!” Ser Criston protests. Alicent stares at him. She had known that the succession issue might turn into war for quite some time, but she cannot bring herself to care about it now. The threat of Rhaenyra seems far away, not quite real. A villain from a storybook. It’s much different from the actual threat on your life. Aegon.

Alicent had never thought she would have to fight her son to spare the rest of you. You, from dishonor. Helaena, from the embarrassment and shame. Her grandsons, from the rumors that will sure surface.

But it has come to this. And let it be known that when Alicent Hightower goes to war, she does so in bright-green flames. There is no hiding, no pretense. She will send her best soldier, and sniff Aegon out like the dog he is.

“If Dreamfyre is left behind, it’s the same as if she goes. My daughter is no warrior.” She is referring to Helaena, but deep in her heart, she knows neither of you are. Alicent is frightened by the thought of you breaking and her finding you too late to stop it. “Perhaps, both dragons will find them faster.”

“The Lord Hand will not…” Ser Criston says, uncomfortable. Alicent shakes her head. Despite his help all these years, he is no parent. If he were, he would realize that it doesn’t matter, whether Rhaenyra decides to burn Westeros to the ground or take the Red Keep. Alicent only cares about her children’s safety.

“I do not care. We will bring them back.”

Ser Criston makes a face.

“Perhaps it would be unwise to say that the King took his sister. We do not know if she…”

Alicent sees red. Does he dare deny it? Does he dare place the blame on your shoulders?

“The King took his sister. My daughter is a dutiful young woman, just like her twin. I will not have you drag her name through the mud!” She shrieks, slamming her hand down on the table. “How dare you!”

It’s a universal truth. Kings are born with grasping hands, and the thought that everything is theirs to take. And when you are a woman, no matter how modest, you cannot escape their attention once you are set in their sights. Alicent had tried once, to escape a King’s notice. But his hands had been too big, and she so small, and he had grasped at her, squeezing until she was unable to move.

Ser Criston looks concerned. He takes the verbal lashing without complaint, even if his eyes tell her he disagrees. But Alicent knows the truth, and it is enough. He is not a woman. He is not a mother. His opinion doesn’t matter.

“Of course.” Ser Criston bows his head, and begins to exit the rooms. “I’ll inform the Lord Hand, my Queen.”

The platitude sounds empty in her ears. Man that he is, he is no longer concerned with your honor but Aegon’s. Your grandfather will be the same. They will destroy your reputation only to save his.

It won’t happen again. Alicent thinks of Viserys’ hands, grasping her hips. Of how she had cried, forced to engage in acts no maiden should be exposed to. Of how she had to keep quiet, carry this great shame of hers because it was her King who ordered it.

But Viserys is dead. Alicent won’t be silent any longer. She grasps a lantern, and her sturdiest boots, and begins to patrol King’s Landing herself.

They will say later that the Queen dowager walked a thousand days and a thousand nights, searching for her daughter. And that she never stopped lighting the candles on your windowsill, not even when Queen Rhaenyra took the Red Keep, not even when the Prince Aemond was vanished after telling her upsetting news. When asked why, her words were simple.

“So she can always know her path home.”

THE WEDDING FEAST is not as grand as the one celebrated when your older sister married, but it is to be expected. Aegon is not heir to anything, regardless of your mother and grandsire say.

You had watched the whole ceremony from one of the benches inside the City’s Sept. Aemond had sat by you, tenderly holding a few handkerchiefs, just in case you started bawling. Most of them have been used by your mother, but you thank his gesture regardless.

There is not much to cry about, truly. Aegon and Helaena are nothing like the pictures of happiness mother described to you when talking of newlyweds. In fact, as Aegon changed Helaena’s cloak, she looked ready to bolt. And he looked miserable.

“Do you think we will marry too?” You ask Aemond, quietly. Ever since he has claimed Vhagar, he has grown more serious and brooding, shedding the last of his childhood innocence. He is a bit terrifying, now, which you think is wicked.

Your Strong nephews no longer mock him so easily. You are all the more glad for it. He would make a worthy husband, capable of protecting you. Or so mother says.

“If we are ordered to.” He answers, squeezing your hand. His face contorts into a strange mix of unbearable fondness and disgust. “Is it such a bad prospect? I heard talk of betrothing you to a Lannister.”

That had been your grandsire’s suggestion. Pawning you off for gold. Literally. At ten and two years of age, you were considered a comely maiden, with the regal Targaryen hair and none of the strange habits of your older sisters. It made you quite a commodity.

“Better a dragon riding husband than a lion of the Rock.” You smirk at Aemond, voice pitched low enough no one can hear you. “We could ride on Vhagar and find out if the world is flat or a sphere, as some Maesters say.”

The thought is enticing to you. A life spent learning the mysteries and secrets of the world that surrounds you. Getting to see far beyond the walls of the Red Keep.

Once, your prison had been a nursery. Now, it was a labyrinth made from red stone.

“I want more glory for my life than being a traveler. I want to leave fame and memory when I die.” Aemond complains. “Besides, the Lannister marriage may do you some good. You would be a Queen in everything but name. A much more secure….”

You shush him before he can say it. Your mother sits on his other side, absorbed by the wedding taking place, and ridding Aemond of the handkerchiefs he had brought for you. It would do no good to point out her failures when she is already that emotional.

Still, Aemond’s words linger around the two of you, silence charged. Marrying a Lannister would be a more secure position than the one afforded to Helaena.

“I like you better.” You finally say, before your mother can notice the lapse in conversation between the two of you.

“I suppose, if I had to… I rather it be you.” Aemond sounds still a bit disgusted by the notion. You know it has less to do with you, and much more to do with his inability to admit he has emotions. Knowing that trying to wrangle an admission of fondness out of him is useless, you decide to focus on the new couple.

“They don’t seem as comforted.” You point out, watching them exit the Sept hand in hand. Helaena is deadly pale, probably at the thought of consummation. You think if it were you marrying Aemond, you wouldn’t be as worried as she is. Being a twin means your built is pretty similar, so he cannot make cruel jokes about your appearance without insulting himself.

Aegon, though, seems much more cruel.

“Yet again, they are not us. We are closer.” Aemond takes your hand and helps you get up from the bench. The two of you wait patiently for the Sept to empty a bit before trying to make your exit. If you have one thing in common, it is that you both despise crowds.

“Wouldn’t that make it harder?” Because you think of having to muster up arousal to bed Aemond, and suddenly, the thought of marrying him doesn’t seem as palatable.

But before Aemond can answer you, probably making a mockery of your sentimentality and your inattention to your lessons, your grandsire interrupts you. He waves a hand to both of you, enthusiastically, as if you were about to run off.

Aemond and you exchange a glance. Your mother stops sniffling.

“What are you two youngsters up to?” He asks, as he reaches you. He gives each a little shove, and you grit your teeth not to let your annoyance show. “Come, to the carriages. You must attend the feast.”

“We know, grandfather. Aemond was escorting me.”

“Of course, young Aemond, ever the dutiful brother.” Your grandsire claps his hand on Aemond’s shoulder. “And you, my dear, the spitting image of your mother. Some could learn from you.”

He gives a glance to the entrance of the Sept, but the couple has already departed. You eye him in suspicion. Otto Hightower never says things without a reason. He must want something.

“Well, it is no matter. You should sit at the newlyweds' side tonight. Perhaps you might curb your siblings' impulses.” And there it is. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. It would be unladylike.

“It shall be done as you say.” Aemond says, and begins leading you to a carriage. He helps you up, careful not to let your puffy green skirts track into the mud. You are wearing a new dress, cut similarly to the ones your mother wears. You have recently flowered, and are enjoying the novelty of wearing grown up styles. The two of you settle across your mother and grandsire.

The night goes downhill from there. Aemond ends up seated next to Helaena, his intimidating figure helping ensure she doesn’t run and no one tries anything funny during the bedding. You end up next to Aegon, with the difficult task of stopping him from getting drunk.

You had heard once a story about a man condemned to roll a giant rock up a mountain, only for it to fall back down when he was reaching the top. The memory feels fitting. You imagine he must have been as miserable as you are. As soon as you snatch a goblet from Aegon’s hand, he is reaching for another.

The mummers are boring, the same old spectacle seen in all Westerosi weddings. A play about the Conquest, with a man who looks nothing like the Conqueror as the male lead. With how loud the musical parts are, you cannot even converse with Aegon.

So when you are at the edge of your wits when it comes to methods to stop him, you gesture for a servant to bring you parchment and a quill. Aegon pauses his drinking, if only to observe what are you trying to write during a wedding.

The note is simple, and prompts a scowl out of him.

Stop drinking. You are embarrassing Helaena.

For a second, it seems like he is going to ignore you. Then, he yanks the quill out of your hand, and messily scribbles.

Mother, you mean.

You have to lean in to write on the parchment, since he is childishly refusing to let go of it. Your eyes meet his. It strikes you, then, how young he looks, despite being the eldest. He has one of those faces, round and sweet, just like your mother’s. When he smiles, half drunk, he reminds you of a deviant cherub.

In a year’s time, you could be welcoming your first nephew. Aegon looks barely out of childhood himself. Even Aemond looks more grown up.

Her, too.

Aegon notices you are studying him, and looks away, uncomfortable. He still replies.

Why do you think I do it?

There is no longer any space in the parchment, so you take out a fresh one. You pen with careful letters, trying not to waste as much space as you did with the previous one.

Do you ever feel like you need to run away from everything?

All the time, sweet sister.

You stare at the words, feeling like you have discovered something you cannot yet name. But before you can match the intuition to an actual concept, someone is calling for the bedding, and Aegon stands up, mask firmly on. He makes a show of it, leering and hooting, much to Helaena’s discomfort.

The moment of vulnerability is lost, and all that is left is the note you hold inside your clenched fist.

AEMOND IS TASKED with finding you, a task that enrages him and fills him with pride in equal parts. He is torn between the hash feeling of your betrayal, of your abandonment, and the fact that he has been tasked with something of such importance. Finally, time for him to prove his worth.

But oh, your betrayal stings. It’s not like he is surprised, having known that you intended to travel the known world, but he is bothered that you didn’t seem fit to inform him. Aemond is the other half of your soul, after all.

At least you had taken Aegon with you, removing an obstacle for his path to the Iron Throne. When he caught up with you, he might forgive you only for that. He had the best motive, after all. Protecting his sister was an honorable excuse to save him from the title of Kinslayer.

With Aegon dead, he would force you to wed him, saving you from dishonor. It would be your punishment for leaving. Aemond would enjoy your enraged face as you were forced to sit with him on the Iron Throne. Unlike Aegon, he didn’t want to bed you, but he enjoyed annoying you for sport. Nothing would annoy you more than being forced to be Queen.

His sweet sister. His milk and cream sister. Aemond had been so worried at first. He had bought on Mother’s crazy theories, thinking you were abducted against your will or whisked to a pillow house in Lys, like it had happened to that Swann lady a few years back.

Then, he realized the absurdity of it all. He had checked the dragonpit first when sent to pursue you. Sunfyre was gone, and Aemond had known this had been your plan all along.

Truly. How foolish Mother was, to think you, Aemond’s other half, could be subdued by Aegon. You were not Helaena. You were made of sterner stuff. Pure Valyrian steel.

Besides, he had heard all about how you needed a dragonrider to take you around the world during your childhood. You had proposed it to Aemond plenty of times. If anyone was abducted, it was probably Aegon. In a strike of brilliance, you had strengthened your beloved twin position and got to take the vacation you had been moaning about ever since you knew how to talk.

His biggest clue about it had been the lack of clues left in your wake. The escape had been too well planned to be born out of Aegon’s head. No dragonkeeper recalled unchaining Sunfyre, yet it was clear someone did because dragons don’t take flight on their own while chained.

No key was missing. No one saw anything the night the two of you vanished. Aemond decides to check Flea Bottom, but he already knows that no trace of you will be found there. This has your fingertips all over it, and even if it didn’t, Aegon was too devoted to you to take you there. He was no Daemon Targaryen, no matter what your mother thought.

This is how he knows it: A secret he has kept for years because it had suited him to do so.

When both of you had been four and ten, your mother had taken you to visit Daeron in Oldtown. Since neither you nor her were dragonriders, Vhagar had been left behind. The journey had taken weeks, almost an entire moon. And there was, of course, the three moons you had spent there, exploring your mother’s childhood home.

The months of the road had changed both of you. During that time, Aemond had actually needed to begin shaving, if he didn’t want to walk around with three miserable hairs on his chin. He had also hit a growth spurt, shooting up like a weed, and his shoulders filled.

In contrast, your changes had been much more dignified. You had stayed the same height, a fact he had used to mock you for ages. Your hips had filled, and you had suddenly grown teats.

The night of your arrival, you had been upset. There had been a mix-up, and the dress commissioned for you to wear on the welcome feast had been made to your old measurements. You had not been able to squeeze into it, and had cried ugly tears in Aemond’s bedroom, refusing to leave because you had gotten fat.

Your mother had solved the problem, of course. She had dug out one of her old dresses, belonging to her mother before her. It was a black one, sequined and embroidered in such a manner it emulated the flames of Hightower. You were enchanted. Called it a priceless heirloom, and danced the night away.

The dress had elicited mixed reactions. Your father and grandfather had both stumbled, as they were seeing a ghost. But Aegon? Aegon loved it.

You had turned into a woman, and looked and behaved so much like mother….

He had been unable to keep his eyes from you during dinner, salivating over you despite having his lady wife next to him. Helaena had been uncaring, not particularly interested in what Aegon did. She had done her duty, having birthed him babes already.

Helaena had been happy to see you, and told you all about the collection of bug-embroidered napkins she had been making for you in the meanwhile. Perhaps your excitement over getting a gift from your sister, prompting you to chatter endlessly with the couple, had been what confused Aegon.

Aemond had kept a careful watch on his brother, noticing that for once, he seemed to be drinking little. A measly two goblets, when usually, he took four. Instead of gorging himself on the drink, he had been gorging himself in you.

His eyes wandered all night. Drinking in your new teats, still blossoming for you were just a girl. Your pretty arse, thanks to the days spent riding horses to get back home. And he had thought himself entitled enough to do the unspeakable.

You had gotten up so you could pass the bread to your mother, when Aegon glanced at your prone form, and gave you a hearty slap on the arse.

The noise had resonated in the hall, making everyone freeze. You had started crying immediately, embarrassed, while Mother berated Aegon. Helaena and Aemond had exchanged a look, both too stunned by the display to speak.

The rest of the guests watched, before laughter rang across the silent hall. It was Daemon, lifting a cup to Aegon. The other guests followed in the merriment, laughing at the fondling you had just received.

Your face had crumpled. More tears fell, face red from public humiliation. It was a feeling Aemond was intimately familiar with, and couldn’t stand to see in his beloved twin’s face. You gathered your skirts and fled the hall, your perfect night ruined.

Aemond had lunged then, grabbing his brother by the collar.

“How dare you dishonor our sisters so!”

But Aegon was standing already, and running after you. He was a tad uncoordinated from the wine, but managed to catch up, Aemond hot on his heels.

Oh, when he got his hands on him, he was going to kill him, Aemond had thought. Daring to pursue you to humiliate you further!

You were huddled in an alcove, hands pressed to your mouth to muffle your cries. At the sight of you, Aegon had looked like someone had struck him.

“I… Apologies, sweet sister… I…” Aemond had never heard him stammer such, much less apologizing for his deviant behavior. He had even leered at Helaena during his own bedding, by the Seven! “I confused you with a serving girl and I…”

You had looked at him, eyes full of betrayal. It was how Aemond imagined he must have looked just before he had lost his eye. You had not spoken a word, shoving both of them in favor of running off again.

Aegon had never touched another girl after that. No longer servants were being dismissed from the Red Keep, with small cups of Moon Tea. No longer Helaena cried because he had visited her drunk. Even the whoring had gone down to reasonable levels.

It was why Aemond doubted you were in as much danger as your mother thought.

YOU BEGIN TO spend more time around Aegon. After that upsetting night, you had chosen to believe in his apology. It hadn’t been as bad, really. Just a spank, that had blown out of proportion when your uncle had laughed.

Your mother had noticed that Aegon had reacted to your consternation in a manner he had not to her scoldings over the years, so she had asked you to keep an eye on him. You find out it is no hardship. He cannot anticipate your every thought like Aemond, but it is expected. He is not your twin.

He is much more fun, willing to engage in any silly games you come up with. Aemond no longer has the patience for them, but Aegon does. Or perhaps he is just feeling guilty. You do not particularly care, as long as you get a companion.

You sit next to him at meals, and ask him to join you for tea in the gardens daily. He stops complaining about there not being any wine after the first moon of your routine. Exercise and sunlight do wonders for his mood, too.

Your newest game consists on slipping him notes during the day, exchanging them in the corridors as you bump shoulders and pretend not to know each other, or tucking them in the pockets of his doublets. Aegon even slips you some back, into the pockets of your cloaks.

You love it. You feel like you are partaking in some sort of courtly intrigue. Exchanging secrets while no one looks, carrying a conversation no one is privy to. You should burn them afterwards, Aegon says, to make it more real, but you find yourself holding on to the notes and saving them.

You will show them to Jaehera and Jaehaerys when they are older. Perhaps the twins will develop a secret language of their own, like Aegon and you. Or perhaps they will become more like Aemond and you, twisted mirrors of each other. Whichever they are, you are sure they will be great. The coin flipped right with them, you can feel it.

Aegon waits patiently for you to tire of playing spies, like you do from all else. You do not have a good track record, with a short attention span and an overeager imagination. You have ceased in your attempts to learn to play Cyvasse, invent a card game, and implement a new communication method using kittens. You had even attempted once to train a bird, but had grown frightened when it started bringing you rats as presents. This, too, shall pass.

He is mistaken. Three moons go by, and you are still at it.

“Isn’t it a bit silly?” He asks you, when it's clear you weren’t going to tire of the game soon. “Passing me messages as if we are spies, when you could just speak to me?”

You cannot explain to him the secret thrill you get every time you see him, the swooping feeling in your stomach when he appears in the hallways and calls you his sweet sister. Much less, how at night you lay in bed, and hold the notes tight against your chest, close to your heart.

How you reread the jokes and the compliments, and imagine him next to you, speaking them into your ear.

It's wrong. Aegon is a married man. And yet… Yet. You have always been the perfect daughter, mirror to Aemond in your dutifulness. A pious lady, respectful of the Seven and her elders. You can have this small thing, surely.

You cannot voice it. He would find it odd, he would no longer want your company. So instead, you give him a secret, coquettish smile. It’s an expression you have seen on your half sister’s lovely mouth, when she bends men to her will. You have stolen it, sharpened, made it deadly.

“Indulge me, brother.”

And Aegon looks at you, and his breath catches. It’s only for a second, but it feels like an eternity. You hear it, the pause of his even breaths, his pulse quickening. You would know him by heartbeat alone, this brother of yours.

“You are a child.” Aegon complains, after clearing his throat.

“Yes. And so are you.” You poke him in the ribs, forcing him to jump to avoid you. It makes you laugh.

“I am a man grown.” Aegon argues, trying to sound dignified.

You pause. You remember your mother’s words, asking you to guide him onto the right path. He is just a boy, underneath it all. Young, foolish and hurting. No one has ever paid him attention, so he acts out to obtain it.

Aemond and you resort to other, more unconventional methods. Both of you do everything right, and pretend not to need anyone.

To this day, your father hasn’t noticed either of you.

But perhaps, you can help him. Give him what he requires and help your mother too.

“I will believe you when I see it. Whoring, drinking. That is not what men do.” You scold, softly.

“Daemon does.” Aegon’s brows furrow, as if sensing a reprimand. You can tell that if you do not hurry, he will sour to you as he has to your mother.

“Does father? Grandsire?” You challenge.

“I do not want to be like them.” He confesses. You take his hands in yours.

“Neither do I. But if we wish to be different, we need to be sober.” And while Aegon looks unhappy, he still squeezes your hands back. “I need you to be.”

He has to do it for himself one day, but for now, he can do it for you.

HELAENA AND AEMOND give chase for days. Their mother sends them in the same direction, but with opposite instructions. While Helaena is not supposed to venture too deep into Essos, Aemond is supposed to scour the farthest Free Cities.

Their meeting date is two weeks into their travels, in the last of Helaena’s destinations. Volantis is as colorful as it is beautiful, and Aemond finds himself fascinated by the sights. He has to agree with you, the world is full of wonderful places just begging to be seen.

Helaena has stationed Dreamfyre at the edge of the city. She comes with a few trusted guards, while Aemond travels alone. He doesn’t need protection when he has Vhagar.

“No success?” He asks her, as he dismounts. They do not dare go further on dragonback, as to not upset the citizens. Starting a war with the Free Cities is the last thing they need right now.

“I heard a rumor.” Helaena says, sliding off Dreamfyre’s back as if it were nothing. Aemond marvels at it. Despite being so ungraceful on land, Helaena looks like a true queen on dragonback. Like she belongs here, and not like she walks a path between realms that would be unfathomable for any man. “About a silver girl and her gold dragon.”

“What do you make of it?” Aemond asks her, hoping she will speak plainly. He also hopes she is not hurt by the news. He was never good at comforting people.

Helaena isn’t the most affectionate of his siblings, but she loves in her own way. Aegon is the father of her children. Some love might be there. Any woman would be furious to hear her husband has run off with her sister. It’s an insult so low, Aemond wonders how she is keeping herself together.

“The rats won’t come for us now.” She answers him, cryptically. Her expression is calm. If she is bothered by what her siblings have done, Helaena doesn’t show it. “Best to keep them there. They can’t touch them there.”

“Who is they, Helaena?” He prods, gently. His sister doesn’t answer. She pets Dreamfyre and gets that faraway look she sometimes wears, when a picture it’s forming in her mind and she can’t quite express it.

Aemond remembers a story about a seer, cursed to walk the earth sprouting prophecies no one believed in but that always ran true. He wonders if dragon dreams are a curse of their own, making those who see the future unable to communicate it.

“I want to find them.” He pleads, holding her by the shoulders. “Please, Hel, this is important.”

Helaena looks at him. Or through him. Aemond doesn’t know. What does she see when she stares at his features? What threads of fate do the Seven weave for him? Helaena can probably read his tapestry, but she would never tell him.

She takes her time, examining his features in search of something. Her shoulders slump under his hold.

“Spare them their chains, Aemond.”

So Helaena knows where you are. They. Aegon and you. But this time, it is not that she cannot tell him. It’s that she won’t.

“Just to see them.” He lets go of her shoulders to grab her hands instead. Helaena’s hands are cold and clammy under his. Aemond knows physical contact bothers her, but he cannot help himself. He needs to know. There is a hunger in him, gnawing at his bones, consuming his flesh. It might devour him alive, if he doesn’t make sure you left willingly. “Will I succeed?”

“The maiden no longer walks alone. The King has taken her. Now she is a Queen, and feasts in a garden full of delights.” Helaena squeezes his hands. Do you understand? Her eyes seem to say, do you understand what I am telling you?

Solve my riddle. Figure it out. For I cannot, I will not tell you more.

Aemond knows this story too. About an older man, who nobody loved, who takes a younger woman and makes her his Queen.

“Did she go willingly?” Aemond asks her because the versions of the story vary, and he doesn’t exactly know which one she is referencing.

Helaena smiles at him, full of pity. Poor man, who understands nothing.

“You may walk out of the Seven Hells, after seeing the one you love. But you will turn back.”

Aemond stares. Helaena climbs back up on Dreamfyre and departs, leaving him standing there.

YOU LAY IN the gardens, feeling sun drunk. Your cheeks are red from the heat. The grass is staining your dress, but you do not care. The warmth feels so good against you, so nice and inviting. Your eyelids drop. Resting your eyes for a few minutes can’t hurt, right?

“Again?” An amused voice says. You open your eyes to look at Aegon. He carries two goblets in his hands.

“It’s so warm.” You mutter. You don’t question how he has found you. Earlier this morning, when you slipped him a note, you mentioned you would be in the gardens. In the Red Keep, immense as it is, that could mean anywhere. But you always find yourself under the same trees.

Your spot, as Aegon calls it. You like it because the trees are positioned just so as to protect your eyes from sunlight, but not the rest of your body. You can read without being blinded, but also nap in the sun.

“Mother says princesses shouldn’t tan.” He sits beside you, handing you a goblet. It’s full of cold water. “You are not some commoner working the fields.”

“Mm.” You mutter, still sleepy. You understand cats so well, sleeping under the sun rays. You wish you were a cat to nap all day in a windowsill and be hand-fed morsels. That sounds like a great life.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Aegon sounds amused, and it’s then you realize you didn’t share those thoughts with him. Did you spoke them aloud? “Yes, you did. Get up, you are getting heat stroke. Drink your water.”

You obey him, sipping at your goblet. The coldness from the water helps you clear your head, and notice that your face feels hot, and your chest is red.

“Not again.” You complain, tucking yourself more into the shadow the tree produces. Aegon simply watches you, a smirk on his lips. “Mother will murder me.”

“I warned you.” He laughs at your expression, a petulant mix of a pout and a scowl. “Drink. I want to teach you a card game while you cool down enough to be presentable.”

Aegon aids you drink from your goblet, careful to not let the water spill. He tucks your sweaty hair behind your ears. Meanwhile, you marvel at how much he has changed, during these years.

He is still undeniably fun, much more than Aemond or you. But he is no longer drunk all the time, and spends his time trying to get you to lighten up and learn new diversions. You like this version of Aegon, who calls you his sweet sister still, but whose face has lost the bloated look alcoholics have. He looks healthier, hair thicker, dark circles less pronounced.

You have been trying to make him work on his tan. He refuses. Your serious nature has not rubbed on him, but he is healthier and treats you with the utmost kindness.

“I would like to learn how to bet.” You tell him, confidently. Truth is, you want to go for another ride on Sunfyre. He has grown just enough to carry two riders, and you miss flying. Aemond no longer takes you in Vhagar, more focused on martial exercises.

If you manage to win a bet, perhaps you can claim a ride on Sunfyre as your prize. Aegon is wary of taking you again because last time, mother had caught you and scolded you until your ears were ringing.

“Betting, sweet sister…” Aegon sips from his goblet, giving you a half smile. “It’s an art one cannot learn in one afternoon. Depends on the game you are playing.”

“An art? By the Seven, I never knew Flea Bottom was full of artists! Someone should tell Daemon, for he has been a real patron of the arts and never knew.” You say, tone flat.

Aegon snorts so hard, the water comes out through his nose. You laugh.

“As I was saying, depends on the game. With cards, you look at them, but if there are cocks involved…” His tone turns lecherous. You gasp, outraged. You are not a prude, but dirty jokes still embarrass you. Were it not by how sunburned you are, you are sure a blush would already be present on your face.

“Um, hello, as in the animal!” Aegon tells you, as if it were obvious. There is a telling little dimple in his face, though, one he gets when he is fighting laughter. “Get your mind off the gutter. What would mother say?”

“Oh.” You say, eloquently. Is he being serious? He has not burst out laughing yet, so he might be, and his amusement could be out of your dirty thoughts. You feel even worse. Perhaps your mind is really in the gutter.

“Those, you choose carefully. Look for the bigger. The girthier…” You shriek in indignation, not allowing him to keep speaking. You hate being so gullible. He always gets you.

“Shut up! I thought you were being serious!” You tackle him, beginning to tickle his sides. When the two of you stop laughing, Aegon places his arm for you to use as a pillow and you curl into him. The two of you nap under the trees the rest of the day.

He has found out a better way to get drunk by the end of the afternoon.

ALICENT IS AT the end of her tether. She hasn’t slept in days. Every time she lays down, she imagines the terrible violations you must be being subjected to. Her poor girl, forced to submit to her deviant brother’s whims.

The pictures in her head won’t let her sleep. They remind her of another young girl, barely of age, taken by a Targaryen King. Being summoned, asked to lay still and spread her legs. To bear it with a grin. To sacrifice herself for the good of the realm, for her family.

Her honor, broken. Her sister believing her a whore. Warming the bed where another bleed.

A dutiful daughter. A dutiful wife. A dutiful whore. Nursing him by day, working over him at night, until her thighs hurt, and she thought, is this what being a Queen is like? She had not felt Queen of anything, except the Seven Hells.

Whore, mother, daughter, wife. It makes no difference. Girls, all over the world, were just vessels for men. Even Princesses, even Queens.

Despite Aemond’s reassurances that you are probably fine, and that Aegon would never hurt you, Alicent cannot stop herself from worrying. Aemond doesn’t know what she does, after all.

Deep within her heart, to take to her grave, she carries a secret. A dark secret. One Aemond is not privy to. Alicent doesn’t dare tell him, either. It would mean further stain on your honor, and more anguish to your twin.

It’s better only she knows. This way, it’s her burden alone. It will not drag you down, or worry your siblings. Safe within the confines of her mind, the secret cannot hurt anyone.

Inside Oldtown, there is the Hightower. In the highest tower there is, next to the powder used to change the color of the flames atop the beacon, is another box. The box has three locks, and a chain wrapped around it, for good measure. It’s made of pure valyrian steel.

Inside the box, Alicent keeps the secret: She had caught Aegon kissing you once.

It had been shortly before your father’s death. You had been helping with the preparations for receiving Rhaenyra and her sons, overseeing the cleaning of the locked rooms. Alicent had tasked you with the responsibility, and you, her brilliant, dutiful girl, had not disappointed.

She doesn’t remember why she had been looking for you. Perhaps, to ask you about where you intended to place the babes, if in the old nursery or in the rooms set aside for their parents. She does remember it had been early afternoon.

The door had been open, so Alicent had not knocked. Alicent had entered Rhaenyra’s old chambers to find your brother crowding you against a wall. Aegon held you in a passionate embrace, his hands helping themselves to your hips and buttocks.

Your dress was bunched up around your waist, and your hips darted nervously from side to side, surely trying to avoid his touch. You were yowling like a kitten, hands pushing on his shoulders.

Alicent heard your distressed cries, your twitchy little movements, and saw red.

“How dare you!” She screamed, uncaring if someone else heard her. Aegon jumped away from you as if your touch burned you.

You had wiped your mouth, face red.

“Mother… I… I am so sorry…” You were so ashamed, so small, and you had reminded her so much of herself it hurt her. The nights where her father ordered her to go to the King, and she couldn’t refuse. How she had been told fighting wasn’t ladylike, that she had to submit to men, let them throw her around as if she were a thing and not a person.

It filled her with rage. It made her want to scratch Aegon’s eyes off with her own nails. Throw herself to the floor, and scream loud and never stop.

“Don’t say a word, my love! Aegon, how could you!”

It was anger, and pain, but also guilt. Guilt, because she knew what Aegon had been up to with the serving girls. Because Alicent had encouraged him to see his sister as a woman, and not a simple sibling. Because she had taught you the same things that she had been taught, that you weren’t to resist or fight, that you were to bear it all with a grin.

Her poor, poor girl. If she had given you a sword, would you have defended yourself? Screamed? Pushed him off?

But instead of a shield and a sword against the world, she had handed you a mirror and forced to make your peace with it. Only Alicent was to blame.

“Mother…” You tried again, tears coming to your eyes.

“Go to Aemond. Now.” Alicent had ordered. She had then berated Aegon until he confessed everything was his fault, and slapped him for his attempt on his sister’s virtue.

She wished she had gelded him, then. A King with no heirs would have been one of the usual tragedies, just like girls being hurt were. None would have merited more than a footnote in the history of Westeros.

YOU ARE COMING of age, and the whole realm is celebrating. Twins are unusual, and the royal family being blessed with two pairs in two generations merits some celebration.

Both Aemond and you have managed to survive until adulthood, a marvel on itself. Sometimes, it felt as if you wouldn’t make it. Especially Aemond, after claiming the biggest dragon in Westeros and losing his eye. You worried about your twin, sometimes.

As always, you embrace the frivolity with gusto. You commission a gown for the occasion, and dance with every single person attending the feast. Not even your father had been spared, holding you close and swaying to the music before growing too weak.

Your grandsire, despite his objections, had been dragged into the merriment too. As had Daemon, your nephews, your twin, your brothers, your friends, and your sister. Twirling in the makeshift dance floor, you had been the life of the feast, allowing Aemond to quietly brood.

Everyone was enchanted by the beautiful princess, and her joyful manners. There was already talk of how lovely a bride you would make, and how happy your future Lord Husband would be with you by his side.

But you wanted none of it. You had started to develop conflicting feelings for Aegon, and wished to untangle them first, before thinking of marriage.

In truth, you didn’t imagine a life outside the Red Keep, one where you had children and stayed in the same place forever, even in death.

When you dared to dream, you always saw yourself on dragonback.

When Ser Martyn Reyne asks you for a dance, you do not hesitate. You agree to let him twirl you between the tables because he is a friend of Aegon. Even if you do not like the way he smiles at you, like he wants to eat you whole.

It is then you hear it and your smile freezes.

After you dance, you go get a refreshment, and noticing you haven’t danced with Aegon yet, you approach the group he is with. Ser Martyn is also there, well on the way to being drunk.

“And I swear, your sister has the prettiest teats in the Seven Kingdoms!” He bellows, before burping.

You cannot see Aegon’s expression from where you stand. His back is turned to you. The other men have not noticed you yet, so you creep closer. Has he gone back to his old ways? Your heart feels like it’s breaking, but you need to know. Especially if these new feelings are what you think they are.

He had started kissing you, recently. But you cannot tell if this is just a game to him or if it is more. You cannot risk it. You have to know. Your childhood infatuation with him has grown teeth, nails, and become a monster that threatens to devour you. He is a married man, but the heart doesn’t know of vows or Septons. It only knows of want.

“Bet she is a little freak, just like your brother. I know her cunt must be so sweet, too. Princesses are meant to be.” This is Eddard Waters. You know he is one of your brother’s friends, and even more boisterous than the others.

“And you intend to sample her, then?” Ser Martyn asks him. You make a face. As if you would let any of these fools between your legs.

“You know what they say… The wettest the cunt, the…” But whatever rude thing Water was going to say is lost because Aegon punches him in the face.

It’s glorious. It’s ridiculous. Your brother fights like a commoner, slamming the wine jug on his friend’s head. A brawl breaks out around you, more people jumping in trying to separate the Prince from the knights, as he screams, bites and trashes.

“My sister is off limits!” He screams, fiercely. Aemond materializes by your side, tugging you away from the fight that has ruined your nameday feast, but you stay there.

Even as he throws you over his shoulder, and gets you out, not hesitating to unsheat his sword to get you to safety, you stay there.

Looking at Aegon holding his knuckles, probably having broken them. He has never been good at fighting.

Looking at Aegon, standing up to his friends for the first time in years. For you.

It strikes you then, standing in the middle of the Hall, as if it were lighting. You love him. You love him.

Love. You love him, and it changes everything.

How can people speak of love as a choice, when in reality it is an arrow that strikes you, lighting hitting you in the middle of a storm? When it roots you to a spot, and shatters all your bones? Choice. As if. You do not choose Jaehaerys, you do not choose your Daemon. You do not choose the rain that will soak you to the bone as you leave the hall.

WHEN AEMOND FINALLY finds you, you are holding to Aegon’s hand as the two of you stroll through a market in Braavos. There, your features aren’t as recognizable.

He sees it, then. Not with his eye, but with his heart. Out of all the possibilities, he had been right.

The silver girl, with her golden dragon. Spurring him up, higher, faster, further. And while wax melts, dragons do not burn.

You look happy. There is a playful smile on your face, when you tug on Aegon’s hand and force him to run, Aemond hot on your heels.

He vows to remember you as you are, his fierce, brave twin. Your ferocious grin as you disappeared into an alleyway, twisted towards a gate, whistled loudly.

“Tell mother I chose to run. Not Aegon.”

And then you are running towards Sunfyre, Aegon helping you mount. Aemond, having not dared bring Vhagar inside the city, doesn't follow.

He has to inform his mother. She refuses to believe in his words, thinking he is doing her a kindness, fabricating the story of a couple in love, of a runaway Princess.

But with the clarity of death, she decides to visit your rooms one last time. Despite her aches and pains, and the recommendations of the Maesters.

The eve before Queen Alicent’s death, something compels her to get out of her bed and search your old rooms. The pain doesn’t let her sleep, tortures her at night. Her own mind is a labyrinth that traps her, filled with monsters that will kill her.

The first one reads:

Everything is as you had left it. In this place, no time has passed. And beneath the bed, in a box, she finds it. The tale of your romance.

Do you ever feel like you need to run away from everything?

Underneath your elegant scrawl, Aegon’s chicken-like letters answer,

They say she died of a broken heart, in her old age. But perhaps, and just perhaps, knowing the truth set her free.

All the time, sweet sister.

514 notes · View notes

specshroom · 9 months

Text

•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(CW: It's smut bro. Sukuna has two dicks, pp in vagina, pp in ass, They fuck in the curse blood bath, cunnilingus, fingering, cervix fucking? Idk. )

The Queen of Curses tries her best to be as nonchalant as possible as she's being escorted to the curse blood bath meant to reguvinate her body to it's full strength. Anybody would struggle to stay nonchalant if they could feel the gaze of the King of Curses trained on their body. She's surprised he can't smell the need flowing off her from where he walks, a few feet behind her. Uraume definitely can with the way the woman's perked nipple presses into the sorcerer's arm and the way her flushed skin radiates heat.

As they reach their destination a few steps above the giant pool, the woman turns to her husband and bows dramatically.

"Please you first, My king" she says with a grin.

Sukuna scoffs at his wife's antics, crossing two arms over his chest as the other two go to undo the string keeping his baggy white pants up. The article drops to the floor and his wife isn't bashful about taking in all her husband has to offer as he walks past her into the huge pool of dark liquid.

She looks to her subordinate who is already kneeling on the ground folding up Sukuna's forgotten pants. Taking the opportunity she steps towards them and says.

"Uraume, would you mind helping me undress?"

Uraume stands up without a word. When they stand to full height their head only comes up to their masters cleavage, something that was always very amusing to the woman.

Uraume's delicate fingers go to the knot tying their masters kimono around her body. They gently loosen the knot until it unwraps and the loosened clothing exposes her whole front to them. Uraume isn't surprised at all by the fact that their master isn't wearing anything under her kimono.

"AY, hurry it up!"

Sukuna yells from where he sits in the waist high blood. The woman clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes.

"So impatient."

she scoffs to Uraume before shrugging the kimono off her shoulders till it falls to the ground. She walks down the steps towards the pool as Uraume kneels again to fold the long silky piece of fabric. They know that neither of their masters will need their garments any time soon.

Sukuna stands up as his wife steps into the pool, dark droplets falling from his sculpted frame. Where Uraume only makes it up to their masters breasts, she barely makes it to Sukuna's shoulders.

She looks up at him through her lashes as she gets closer, so close her tits graze against his crossed arms.

She slowly reaches out to caress the skin of her lover, following the inked lines up his waist. She keeps following the dark lines until she gets to the pair of crossed arms, encourage them to uncross and bringing them to her waist. Sukuna starts rubbing his fingers into her lower back just the way she likes. She traces the black patterns higher up his chest, along his neck until she cups both sides of his face.

She delicately runs her fingers against the deformed side of his face, caressing the massive beast as if he's made of porcelain. He grasps the wrist of the hand that so gently touches him, holding it still as he leans into her palm. The two hands on her waist pull her body closer, he closes his eyes and breaths her in.

"why so soft all of a sudden?"

he mumbles against her tattooed wrist, it didn't sound as teasing as he wanted it to.

She smiles at him.

"Because I'm your wife."

She says lowly, half lidded eyes staring into his soul... If he has one. The curse king stares back with just as much reverence, they move closer until their noses are touching, breaths mixing.

She suddenly pushes him away hard enough to make him lose balance and fall ass first into the thigh deep blood they're standing in. When his head resurfaces he sees his wife doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach.

The man growls in anger. Why must the woman he loves be so irritating?

"Hahahaha! Uraume did you see tha- ah!"

Sukuna grabs his wife while she's gloating, pulling her closer to him by her thighs. One hand on the upper thigh, one on her ass, one on the other knee, pulling it over his shoulder and the last one around her ankle holding her in place. Finally his face is exactly where he's wanted it to be for a thousand years now, just a few inches away from her warm cunt.

He looks up at her with four angry eyes.

"You play around too much, woman."

She looks down at him from between her breasts which move up and down with her short breaths. Having him so close to where she needs him the most is making something in her stomach heat up.

"You think I can't tell how much you want me right now? You think I don't know you crave me just as much as I crave you?"

She grabs at his hair and shuffles in his hold. She can feel his breaths on her cunt, her need is overwhelming. She tries pushing his head to finally make contact with her needy pussy but he doesn't budge, grinning up at her while he nuzzles the side of his face into the flesh of her thigh.

"Mhm. I can be a tease too, baby."

She lets out an irritated huff.

"Ryo, if you don't eat me out right now I swear-"

She pauses, not knowing what to say while her husband looks at her with a shit eating grin, cocking his eyebrows up for her to continue.

"I won't suck either of your dicks."

She says with finality as if she didn't just come up with that on the spot. She crosses her arms over her tits, all proud of herself.

Sukuna chuckles, she can feel the breathy laugh on her cunt. She involuntarily clenches around nothing and her posture hunches a little.

"Well damn baby, that's all you had to say."

He says before finally. Finally. diving his head in between her plush thighs. Licking one big stripe up her cunt to her clit before settling on a rhythm of eager lapping and sucking. The pleasure is instant as she hunches over and curls her fingers in his short fluffy hair.

The groan she lets out is so gutteral it makes him moan into her pussy. Safe to say, even after so many years he hasn't lost his touch. He keeps going at it as she grinds back into his mouth. The hard malformed part of his face scrapes against her thigh but she's always liked it. It reminded her exactly who was making her feel so good.

"Ahh, Ryo" She groans into the night air as her husband holds up her whole body without any struggle, getting perfect full access so he can get his tongue as deep inside her as possible. She places a foot on his shoulder granting him even easier access, hands still tugging his hair.

He squeezes her ass and gropes at her thigh pulling her impossibly closer like he can never get enough of her. By the higher pitched noises she's making and the way her thighs tense up around his head, he can tell she's already on the edge of orgasm, about to reach her peak.

He suddenly unlatches her legs from his shoulders and reaches up, grabbing her by the neck to pull her down into a harsh kiss. Her entire body gets pulled down so that she's straddling him now, blood coming up to just under her breasts. She struggles in the kiss, kicking at him and reeling from her ruined orgasm while Sukuna grins into the kiss.

She bites at his lips and he just kisses back with equal intensity. When her animalistic growls give way to a pitiful whine, he releases her from the kiss. Her nails dig into the wrist of the hand still around her throat. Drawing blood that drips down and mixes with the blood of hunreds of other curses.

"You fucking bastard."

She snarls at her supposed lover. He chuckles menacingly at her, very much enjoying the rageful passion she spits at him. That part of her is what made him fall in love with her in the first place after all.

"Aww, poor baby."

Sukuna coos in the most patronising manner possible. The look of absolute rage on his wife's face makes him surprised the blood around them isn't at boiling point. She thrashes around in his grip, grunting, pushing, splashing, fighting against her horrible husband's hold. Sukuna just holds onto her tighter, never holding up, like she's his life force and if he lets go he'll die.

She yells out in frustration and anger which is when Sukuna thinks it's the perfect time for the fat toungue of the mouth on his stomach to lick a hard long strip up her whole pussy. She instantly stills as her breath hitches.

Sukuna brings his hand to her jaw making her look him in the eyes again as he thrusts the large tongue into her. The stretch makes her hiss and tense up. The initial sting quickly grows into euphoria, the feeling of the huge tongue moving against her walls is a pleasure that is indescribable.

As her moans get louder and her eyes roll back, she almost loses herself again in the feeling but quickly shakes her head and looks at her husband with an intense glare.

"You better make me cum this time, Ryo"

She says in a raspy voice, the man in question grins as if he's innocent and replies back.

"Of course, anything for My Queen."

She groans, not appreciating his teasing at all.

"I'm serious, I'll kill you. I'll kill you if you do that again-"

Her ernest death threats are rudely interrupted by Sukuna shoving two of his fingers in her mouth. The other hand holds her jaw up for better access. Her dark eyes still trained on his, fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"I said I will."

He says, the teasing tone replaced with something deep and honest like a promise to her.

The Queen takes a moment to admire her devoted partner before she allows herself to lose her mind on his tongue.

Sukuna slowly thrusts his two fingers into his wife's mouth, loving the way her tongue flattens out to lick his fingers as he thrusts. He brings his other hand that's not holding her down on his tongue to press gently into her unoccupied hole.

She groans at the new sensation of having her ass played with as Sukuna slowly moves to thrust a finger inside. He lowers the hand on her jaw to fondle and squeeze at her tits.

The woman is in absolute euphoria, her eyes flutter shut as her tongue lols out, spit messing down Sukuna's wrist and her chin. So many different places being stimulated. So many areas of pleasure. It's so overwhelming, it's no wonder she's already almost there again.

She opens her eyes to stare at her husband, they always liked looking into eachothers eyes when they cum. She only gets louder and needier as Sukuna uses multiple hands to dutifully work her up to her climax. Sukuna brings two hands to her hips and thrusts her down hard on his tongue right as he thrusts it up so deep into her. She uncontrollably clenches hard as she comes undone on his massive tongue, loving every second he gives her.

Sukuna takes his fingers out of her mouth to kiss her sloppily as she rides out the high. It takes a while for her to come down but once she does she's wrapping her arms around her husbands neck, pushing her body as close to him as it can be while kissing his neck.

"I missed you."

she whispers in between the soft kisses. Sukuna feels his heart and dicks pulse.

"I noticed."

He grins cockily, the expected response from a bastard like him.

"Yeah? Well I missed them too."

She murmured against his lips, shuffling her leg so that it grazes the two hard shafts below her. The King grins at her and waists no time hauling her up, pressing her close to his chest. He walks towards the edge of the giant pool and rests her down on the edge.

She leans back on her hands, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them. She admires her husband's imposing frame as he admires how she openly flaunts her body to him.

Sukuna then holds both her legs right under the knee and brings them to either side of her chest so that his pretty wife is bent in half for him. Said wife lightly moans at the position he's chosen, shes basically presenting her pussy to him. She lets out another louder moan when she feels his two heavy cocks graze against her wet puffy pussy. Sukuna brings his face close to hers so he can see her face clearly as he rubs his cocks up and down her cunt.

"You ready?"

He asks, knowing full well that she most definitely is with how slick her hole is. She nods looking into his eyes.

"Put it in then"

He says lowly, it was meant to be an order but there's just a hint of a plead in there. She reaches down between them to line up his two cocks to their respective holes. She holds them there so that Sukuna can slowly tease them into each entrance. Once the mushroom heads pop in, they both weakly moan. She moves her hand to grab his waist to ease him forward, gradually burying his cocks deeper into her. Once he's halfway in she presses on his waist to make him still, letting herself adjust.

"Cmon, ease up baby." He mumbles, caressing her hips, waist and thighs soothing her body so that she's not so tense. He gives her neck kisses and eventually she eases up enough, pulling him forward again by the waist. Both of his fat cocks bottom out and the two lovers are in absolute euphoria. Chest to chest, arms clutching around eachother. They sit there for a minute, foreheads touching so they can stare into eachothers eyes. Neither of them meant for this to be so sincere but they truly just missed eachother so damn much and it's overwhelming.

Sukuna adjusts, getting in a better position where his knees are bent and his whole body is hunched over his wife's in a mating press like position. This gives him much better leverage to slowly pull out, indulging in his wife's cute whines before he slides a pair of hands around her lower back and slams right back into her.

The hands under her back lift her hips up slightly and it's such a perfect angle, allowing him to go as deep as possible. Feeling every inch of him in both her holes is making her go crazy. They both are so loud when they fuck, the sounds of their moans and the fast plap plap plap of their skin echos through the otherwise silent atmosphere.

"Ah! Squeezing me so tight, you're already gonna cum? Fuck!"

Sukuna tries to sound cocky but miserably fails. She can't even respond, she's been lost in the pleasure since he started thrusting. His grip on her thighs and waist tighten as she tightens around both of his cocks, so close to release. He has no idea how he hasn't cum yet but he's getting so desperate humping into her almost like a dog. The clenching and shaking is too much for him, he's gonna-

"Fill me up, Ryo."

She whispers to him, tired eyes still looking up at him. With that, he cums hard and fast, shooting strong ropes of cum into her pussy and ass. Her eyes squeeze shut as the feeling of being filled up so well in both holes roughly pushes her over the edge. It's a feeling she'll never get used to.

It takes a while for her to come down from the high, her fingers ease the grip she had on his newly bruised skin. Sukuna is lazily sucking on her neck, licking at the sweaty skin. Hes laying all his weight ontop of her, good thing she isn't a mortal woman or she'd be crushed under his monster weight. She feels him soften inside her and grins, a devious plan cooking up in her evil brain.

"Hmm, Ryo?"

"Hmmm"

His head doesn't leave the crook of her neck as she rubs his back.

"Do you think I can still fit both of them in my pussy?"

He halts. She's built up enough energy to roll the tired man onto his back and sit up in a single quick motion, dicks still inside her. Feet planted on the floor on either side of his waist she places both hands on his chest for balance and lifts herself off his cocks, making them both groan at the loss. He only watches, enamored by the sheer amount of cum that drips from her holes onto his abs.

She adjusts to balance on the front part of her feet, spreading her legs wide as she manoeuvres her pussy over his two spent cocks. She takes both of them in hand, looking at his face to watch his reactions to her touch on his sensitive members. His eyebrows scrunch but he doesn't waver, lifting himself slightly on two elbows. She holds her pussy open with two fingers and brings herself down slowly, slightly taking in both heads. They both watch where the two heads disappear inside her dripping cunt. She stills and just when Sukuna opens his mouth to complain she quickly drops herself down, taking both cocks inside her in a rapid motion. Both of them let out something between a moan and a scream at the sudden stimulation of both Sukuna's thick cocks being forced so deeply inside such a tight space.

"Fucking crazy woman."

He struggles out. The stretch feels so devine as she clenches and moans. Her head tilted up to the stars in the sky with a dreamy look on her face. She brings her hand to caress her tummy and grins when she feels it, the bump in her stomach right where his two cocks inside her are. She looks down at it which makes Sukuna look too and the man curses, tipping his head back, absolutely enamoured with his perfect wife.

She pulls his hand from her hip to her stomach to hold it over the bulge there. They both moan at the feeling as she starts grinding back and forth in slow circles.

"You got another one for me, Honey?"

She asks snarkily, as if she doesn't know how many rounds her husband is capable of, he just huffs and smirks. She raises herself up on her feet, until both dicks are juuust about to pop out and rams back down letting out a gutteral sound as they reach the deepest parts of her pussy. She continues with these hard long thrusts, moving her whole body up and down his lengths. Sukuna just let's his wife do her magic, occasionally clutching into her thighs and hips. Sukuna knows he'll never be allowed into heaven but the feeling of his two cocks rubbing up against one another inside his wife's pretty cunt is the closest thing to heaven he'll ever need.

As she gets closer and moves faster the overstimulation starts getting to her and her full body thrusts get sloppier. Her body can't keep up with her need and she frantically tells her husband.

"Ah, fuck me, Ryo please!"

Sukuna waists no time following his wife's orders and reaches under her legs to grab her waist with two hands. Her legs are pressed against her chest and he sits up before lifting her body up and pounding her even deeper than before. She clutches his biceps for some stability as she gets her cervix fucked by her insanely big husband.

The position, the depth, the speed, the strength it's all too much for Sukuna as she clenches impossibly tighter. Before he can even register it, his balls clench and his dicks twitch until he's cumming hard for her. He hisses and lets out a long groan, pulling her close to him as he bottoms out so he can shoot his cum as deep inside her as possible. She can barely handle the amount of cum that gets pumped into her. Nothing in the world can compare to the feeling of being filled to the brim by her lover, its no time before she's cumming with him. Her pussy milking his two cocks for all they have.

They stay dead still like that for a solid minute until Sukuna falls onto his back bringing his wife with him, still clutching her tightly to his chest. They both breathe ragged breaths, bathing in the sweaty after glow.

"Wow." She chuckles in exhaustion lifting her head from where it rested on his chest to rest her hand on her chin and smile dazedly at him. He lazily grins back from the hard ground while his hands stroke up and down her thighs and back, one arm resting under his head.

She slowly pushed herself up more with her hands on his chest before she gradually pulled his softened dicks out of her now fill cunt. She's surprised her belly didn't expand with all the cum inside her at this point.

She stands up, feet on either side of her husband's waist. The copious amount of cum that leaks out of her is so lewd it would make a pornstar blush. He curls a hand around her ankle, his eyes not leaving the leaking pussy infront of him. She places her hands on her hips and puffs out her chest, standing there like some lewd naked superhero. She clears her throat to get his attention and his eyes flick up to her very smug face.

"I win."

She says simply. His dazed grin falls comically fast.

"What?"

"I made you come first, both times we fucked."

She holds out her hand, presenting two fingers. Sukuna is dumbfounded to say the least.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I made you cum first on my tongue."

He retorts, holding up one finger.

"Nuh uh, that doesn't count."

He's getting angry now and she knows it. He lifts himself up on his elbows.

"What the fuck do you mean it doesn't count?"

She stretches her arms above her head stepping over him to walk away.

"Doesn't count. Better luck next time, My Love"

He grabs at her ankle.

"Hey! You promised me you'd suck my dick if I made you cum, remember?"

She pretends to think for a second.

"Huh, I did say that."

she pauses before shrugging,

"Well, I'm hungry now. Uraumeee!"

She dashes out of his grip but he anticipates it and stands up to grab her around the waist.

"You will make good on your promise." He growls into her hair slightly grinding his bare cocks into her ass.

She's unfazed as she turns in his hold and says sternly.

"I know you know what it's like to not eat a single thing for ONE THOUSAND YEARS!"

Sukuna groans in exasperation, tipping his head up to the sky.

"You got to eat plenty of innocents already! I've not had a single mortal and might I remind you who's fault all this was in the first-"

"You called master?“

Uraume suddenly appears bowing behind the woman, interrupting her tangent which Sukuna is relieved about. The woman turns with a gleeful look in her eyes.

"Uraume~ Darling, I'm starving."

"I've already prepared you both a few meals and clean clothing."

The Queen practically vibrates with happiness. She reaches out to bring the sorcerer into a sweaty hug.

"Oh Uraume, what would I do without you?"

Just like that the Queen of Curses is back to cooing over her favourite sorcerer, clinging onto them as they lead her to the meal they prepared.

Sukuna just stands there for a minute, contemplating his entire marriage to this point as he watches the two scale up the stares. He peers a bit lower to the absolutely drenched state of her thighs as his multiple loads leak from her filled pussy, walking just a little wobbly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. As much as he wants to complain and act like he hates it, he knows he's absolutely pussy whipped.

#This is my Christmas present lmao enjoy <3 #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk sukuna #uraume #Uraume x reader #queen of curses

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