#she’s called me her step daughter a few times and her grandchild like once

[theemporium]

🧸 le monagasque x reader’s daughter taking her first steps inside charles’ childhood home

☕️

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

edit: I’m a dumbass who only realised now you said daughter😭I’m so sorry

.

It had just been like every other Sunday brunch. 

With so many Sundays robbed from his family due to the race season, it became something like an unspoken tradition for the Leclerc family to spend non-race weekend Sundays together. Something lighthearted and sweet. Something that helped him put his family first, no matter what was happening on the race track or in the garage.

Once upon a time, it was just Charles and his brothers making their way to their childhood home. Each boy would have their own role to help their mother. Each boy would laugh and smile and bask in something as simple as a meal shared together which wasn’t as easy when they were all around the world.

And in more recent years, there had been a few additions to the Leclerc Family Brunch.

“He looks just like you.”

Charles lifted his head to see his mother standing by the doorway, a warm and kind smile on the older woman’s face as she watched the sight in front of her. Her son sat on the floor of the living room, an array of toys around him and her grandchild crawling around as he happily babbled. 

“Really?” Charles asked, a little bashful as his mother’s grin widened. 

“It makes me feel twenty years younger,” Pascale joked, a look of adoration on her face as little Adrien Leclerc garbled happily on the floor before tilting his head up to look at her. “He even has your smile. Different eyes though.”

“He has his mother’s perfect eyes,” Charles cooed as he grinned down at his son.

Though you had been more than welcome at the Leclerc household for their Sunday brunches, Charles also knew that you liked to give him some time with his family regardless of what he said. After many weeks of trying to tempt you early on in your relationship, he finally relented and made his own Sunday tradition with you. It started of as a day to just treat yourself at the expense of his card, but soon became your day away from him and Adrien. 

Just a day for you to take a breather from the Leclerc men in your life.

“Ah, Maman, look what I taught him,” Charles announced suddenly as he shuffled back until his back was pressed against the couch. “We’ve been practising.”

“Charles,” his mother scolded softly. “He’s your son, not a dog.”

“But he’s so obedient,” he teased playfully before turning his focus back to his son. He spread his legs open and patted the floor in front of him as he called his son’s name. “Adrien, box box!”

Adrien’s head snapped towards his father and he let out a happy giggle like he seemed to realise what was happening. He began to crawl towards his father, a wide and toothless smile spread across his face.

“My smart boy!” Charles praised as his son continued to crawl across the carpet towards him.

“Oh Adrien,” Pascale cheered with a clap. However, her smile faltered slightly when he started to slow down. 

Charles' brows furrowed together. “Adrien, come on. Box, box.” 

Adrien looked at his father before he stopped fully. But before Charles could even say anything, he was sitting back on the carpet before he began to slowly push himself up onto his feet with the help of the table beside him.

“Maman,” Charles murmured breathlessly, excitement mixed with tears shining in his eyes as he watched his son stare determinedly towards him. Later on, he would be grateful his mother had half the sense to take her phone out while he was so focused on young Adrien.

Charles could only let out a choked, wet laugh as he watched his son take one step and then another and another, and eventually letting go of the table as he took shaky steps towards his father. He could only let an array of mumbled French as his son fell into his arms, quickly hugging the young boy to his chest as he pressed kisses all over his face.

“My smart boy. My smart, smart prince,” he continued to mumble against his chubby cheeks as Adrien squirmed and squealed in his father’s arms. “Oh, I can’t wait to show Mama what you can do, hm? Gonna be a good boy and show her what a smart boy you are? She’s gonna be so excited.”

And truth be told, Charles cried when Adrien walked in front of you too when he caught a glance at your glossy eyes. But he wasn’t ashamed to be emotional about his family.

.

#cece's slumblurb party #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[starogeorgina]

Violent delights

Warnings: blood, swearing

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x oc

Notes: Jacaerys is older in this fic than he is in the show/book

1.02

Sensing danger Viserion dips down, trying to get you to safety on Dragonstone quickly, but your uncle was relentless, and Vhagar was getting closer and closer to you. Please gods. You didn’t care about the blood dripping down your legs or the horrible cramping in your lower abdomen. All you cared about was getting your daughter somewhere safe. But it seems the gods were listening to your silent prayers; tears of relief slipped down your cheeks as a second shadow flew over you.

Caraxes.

With your stepfather looming over you both, Aemond orders Vhagar to turn back instead of confronting Daemon and his dragon head-on.

The next few moments pass in a blur as Viserion flies down to the beach below. By the time he lands on the damp sand, Daemon is already waiting for you. Most people would be too afraid to come so close to a dragon, but Viserion wasn’t different from the rest. The majority of Viserion's scales are light pink; his horns, wing bones, and spinal crest are silver. His coloring and placid nature gave him the nickname gentle giant.

Your legs give way as you climb down, but Daemon catches you before you fall to the ground. Once you are steady, he gives you a horrifying look as he notices the newborn strapped to your chest. “Please take her,” you beg. “Take her to my mother.”

He takes the baby from your chest and hands her to one of the guards, who held her as if she were glass. In one swift movement, Daemon lifted you up, wrapping one arm behind your back and the other behind your knees. Fury flickers behind his eyes as the prince keeps his tone neutral to not worry you further. “Dearest girl, We should never have let you marry that drunken—”

“Her name is Aemma.”

“Save your strength—”

Seeing the blood trail you left behind you, you interrupted him again, scared you were running out of time. “The greens will come for her. I disobeyed the queen, and they will want me to pay for that.”

—

The first thing you see when your eyes flutter open is your mother. Delicately, she brushes hair out of your face, “my sweet girl. You had us worried.”

Like a child, you cling to her side, “mother.”

You had been in and out of consciousness while your stepfather carried you inside. He called for the maesters immediately, and upon inspection they discovered you had a birthing tear, which required stitches. The maesters shared their concerns that you’d not been treated properly within the keep; they couldn’t understand why you didn’t receive medical care after giving birth, and they also pointed out how thin you were for someone who has just delivered twins.

Your mother comforts you as you finally let out all your built-up emotions. Thinking of Rhaegar made you miserable; you missed the son you never met to the point it caused you physical pain. When you finally stopped crying, you explained everything that had happened, and I could have sworn I saw flickers of red behind her eyes. “I can never thank Prince Daemon enough for coming when I needed him most. I can’t imagine what would have happened if Vhagar—”

“Lyarra, my love, please don’t think of such things; it will only cause you distress. Arrangements are being made so that the greens will have no excuses to step foot on Dragonstone.”

You nod, glad to hear that they won’t ever come near your daughter. You suddenly sit upright when you realize that your baby is nowhere in sight. “Aemma! Where is she?”

“Aemma is asleep,” your mother smiles at you. “I’m so proud of you, my darling. My perfect grandchild is currently asleep in the cot I have set up for your future sibling. I didn’t know what sleeping arrangements you would want to have.”

“I want her in here with me.”

You watch as your mother rubs her swollen stomach, the velvety fabric of her dress clinging to her bump. She always looked so elegant and beautiful while pregnant, unlike you, who looked a day away from death.

“I will have that organized," she squeezes your hand. “Joffrey is desperate to see you; he’s missed you deeply. Jace and Luke are out dragon riding; when they return, I will let them know you are back and tell them what has happened. For now, I need you to rest; I will watch over Aemma until the morrow.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me; you are my child.”

Your mother stays with you until you fall into a deep slumber. You were truly thankful that she was kind hearted, and you hoped to be as good a mother as she is.

—

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against the back of the tub. For the first time in many moons, you felt a slither of your old self coming back. When you woke up in the morning, your new handmaiden Clara had prepared a bath for you, brought you fresh clothes, a mixture of fruits, and jugs of water.

Due to your tenderness, Clara helped you into the bath, and once she did, you dismissed her. insisting that you’d be fine on your own.

Just as you feel the built-up tension in your body realizing this, the smell of lavender oil reaches your nose and the doors to your chambers are swung open.

“Lyarra!”

“Sister!”

Your body flushes with embarrassment as your three brothers sprint into the room, eager to see you. “Gods!” You struggle to cover your bare chest, wrapping one arm around your top half and the other below. “This is why people knock!”

Lucerys quickly covers his and Joffrey’s eyes while turning to face the other way. Jacaerys averts his eyes while handing you a towel to cover yourself with. You let out a grumbled thank you. If you weren’t mortified, it would have been comical to see them all blush with embarrassment.

“Mother told us we had to wait until morning to see you,” Luke huffs.

“I’m very glad to see you all, but get out so I can get changed.”

When your brothers were completely out of sight, you stood, letting out a loud whine as you did. Hearing footsteps, you grab the towel, which is now soaking from being dropped in the water, to cover yourself. “Jace, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you. Jace’s eyes were glued to the ground as he grabbed a blanket from your bed and walked over to you. Without giving you a chance to protest, he wraps the blanket around you to keep you dignified before lifting you out of the bath. Despite how humiliating it was to need assistance from your brother, you felt so safe in his arms; they were so comforting. “You shouldn’t have dismissed your handmaiden. You would have been stuck in the bath until the water turned freezing cold.”

You roll your eyes. Jacaerys, being your only older brother, was often protective of you. “How did you know I dismissed her?”

“Lucky guess. I have sent Luke to ask her to come back.”

“I would have asked for help if I needed it, just not from my brother,” you pout.

When your feet touch the cold floor, you look up at Jace, who is trying to stop himself from smiling. “Forgive me, it is not funny... I've just missed your moodiness,” he teases. “I’m glad you decided to come back home.”

“I’m glad to be back.”

—

After having your hair braided and changing into a light purple gown, you immediately went to see Aemma.

“My precious girl,” you hum before kissing her on the cheek. Smiling, you walk through the hallways towards your mother's chambers. “You will love growing up here; I know I did.”

You look over your shoulder to see Jacaerys exiting his own room; his face lights up when he claps eyes on Aemma for the first time. He opens his door again, saying, “Come, I have something I want to show you.”

Curious, you follow, “What is it you’d like to show us?”

He leads you to the fireplace and points at the red and gold dragon egg sitting on top of it. Unlike your brothers, your egg never hatched in the cradle, and you spent many years heartbroken until you bonded with Viserion. Gently you run your fingers along its hardened scales, “I can’t believe you kept it.”

“You used to take it with you everywhere,” he smiles. “After you left for King's Landing, I snuck into the dragon pit and retrieved it. I know Luke chose eggs for you, but since you couldn’t bring them, I thought Aemma could have that one.”

Since there is no time frame on a dragon hatching, it was possible the dragon inside could bond with your daughter. “Thank you,” you kiss Jace on the cheek. “I will put it in the cradle with her tonight.”

He strokes the top of Aemma’s head, but hesitation fills up behind his eyes. “Did mother send for you?”

“She did, and I’m guessing it’s something important.”

“We should…” he trails off, watching as Aemma’s eyes slowly close.

“Do you want to hold her?”

Jace looks petrified as you place the newborn in his arms. After shifting positions a few times, he relaxes a little and says, “We should go before Mother sends a search party.”

—

Once you were seated around a small table, you noticed how worried your mother looked. Your attention was drawn from her when Daemon tossed a letter into the fireplace. He chuckles, “Lyarra, did you say, ‘next time you attempt to put your fucking hands on me, I’ll feed you to Viserion’ to Ser Criston?”

“Yes.”

Daemon laughs as your mother rubs her forehead and says, “This isn’t a joking matter. What did he do to you?”

“He tried to grab my shoulder to stop me from leaving and told me I’d need to ask for the queen's forgiveness when I returned.”

The laughter abruptly stops, with Daemon’s tone becoming a lot more serious than before. “One of the knights who is under my command witnessed you leaving and Aemond leaving mere moments later on Vhagar. They don’t believe he was advised to do it.”

Jace clenches his jaw, and holding Aemma seems to be the only thing keeping him calm.

You frowned; this meant Aemond had taken it upon himself to chase you through the sky. “Is that what the letter you burned said?”

“No, that was from that cunt Otto Hightower,” he hisses. “The queen requests your return so you can discuss the terms of your annulment.”

“Annulment?” When your mother said arrangements were being made, you never imagined the faith or the Queen would allow your marriage to Aegon to end. You push back the lump forming in your throat and ask, “When do I need to go?”

Your mother caresses the back of your hand and says, “Alicent has requested you meet with her tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! Do I need to go?”

“I’m afraid so, sweet girl, but you won’t be alone. Daemon is going with you.”

Seeing the pained expression on your mother's face, there was no getting around this: you need to meet with Alicent one last time before she hopefully agrees to end your torment. Your mind goes to your poor dragon, whose straps and saddle you have yet to have removed or checked for any new damage since leaving in such a rush.

“Okay, I will make sure Viserion is ready to fly by morning.”

Daemon looks deep in thought as he clicks his tongue. “Given what happened, it would be much safer for Jacaerys to fly you on Vermax.”

Your mother lets out a deep sigh; she didn’t seem impressed by the idea but said nothing. You were sure the presence of Caraxes would allow you to fly safely on your own, but Daemon always has his own reasons for doing things; you just hoped Jacaerys wouldn’t mind.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon/you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #violent delights #Jacaerys Velaryon #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #Jacaerys Velaryon x oc #Jacaerys Velaryon x fem oc #Jacaerys Velaryon/oc #jace velaryon fanfic #Jace Velaryon x oc #jace velaryon fanfiction

[kindred-sims]

Part 1/2

TW: Emotional abuse, verbal abuse

"Josephine dear, so good to see you again!"

It was Cora who spoke first, plastering on that same fake, saccharine smile that Jo had become so accustomed to seeing in the little amount of time she'd spent in her father's home. As for her father himself, he wore that typical disapproving look, looking at his daughter with feigned interest.

"My goodness, it certainly has been a while," Cora chirped on, as Jo continued to stand there in shock. "And just look at you, all flushed with motherly glow! How have you been, dear?"

"I--I'm fine?" Jo tried not to stumble over her words, but it wasn't exactly easy, especially with Papa standing right there. As expected, he scoffed at her and her few words, placing both hands on his hips.

"Fine? Is that all you have to say for yourself, young lady?" he scolded. "After your step-mother and I came all this way too, I must say I expected better from you."

"Oh--no, no I'm sorry--" Jo felt herself shrink, as if she were five years old again and being reprimanded for accidentally spilling her milk at the dinner table.

"I just--I wasn't expecting you, either of you--please, won't you come inside?"

It wasn't what she wanted to say nor offer, but it was what was expected of her. Much as she was unprepared for this sudden visit, it wasn't in her nature to turn away guests, no matter who they were. Grandmother had always said to be charitable to everyone, even if you didn't think they deserved it.

Fortunately, Jo found a brief escape in excusing herself to make dinner, leaving Cora and Papa to settle in the parlor. Caleb had come in a few minutes later and while just as surprised, had been his natural, welcoming self, trying to make small talk and the like.

He'd tried to carry it over to the dinner table, but Jo made no such efforts. She remained mostly quiet as she picked at her food, content to let Caleb do all the talking.

"I do apologize for us dropping in unannounced like this," Papa's harsh demeanor had dropped since they'd all sat down, and he sounded quite casual as he spoke. All a ruse, Jo knew him better than that.

"We meant to pen a response to your letter, but as soon as we found out about the baby, I'm afraid we couldn't quite help ourselves. Certainly you can't fault a man for wanting to meet his first grandchild, can you?"

"Oh, of course not, sir. That's perfectly understandable," Poor Caleb, he was trying so hard to remain polite.

"Yes indeed, such an exciting time in any man's life," Sterling continued on, as if he hadn't heard Caleb at all. "Tell me, where is my grandson now? You've not mentioned him once since we all sat down and I'm not sure I can stand to wait much longer."

Jo felt dismay come over her as she looked up at her father, and beside her, Caleb had gone quiet.

"...your granddaughter is upstairs, asleep." She was the one to respond, despite her hand shaking as she lifted her fork. "I'll fetch her whenever she wakes up."

Sterling raised an eyebrow at Jo, a flash of something unreadable in his eyes.

"...I see."

The rest of the dinner was spent in silence, Sterling and Cora shortly returned to the parlor with Caleb afterward. Soon after, Jo arrived with Carrie, who lay half-awake in her arms, blinking sleepily.

"Papa...Cora," Jo spoke cautiously, entering the room with great reluctance. "This is Caroline...Caroline Harriet. Your granddaughter."

"We call her Carrie," Caleb added, trying his best to smile despite the growing tension in the room.

Sterling said nothing, barely paying the baby any mind. Meanwhile Cora seemed thrilled and was practically gushing from her seat.

"Oh my, well isn't she a precious little thing!" she exclaimed. "Isn't she precious, Sterling?"

But Papa didn't share the same sentiment, remaining unimpressed from where he sat. The sight made Jo's heart sink.

"I didn't come here for a granddaughter. I came here for a grandson," he said bluntly, his words causing further pain in her heart. "Why weren't we informed it was a girl?"

"That would be my fault sir," Caleb was quick to step in. "Jo was still recovering and was unable to write the letter, so she had me do it. I...well, I'm afraid my vocabulary is very limited compared to hers. I really thought I'd said the baby was a girl, I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't give me a grandson!" Papa snapped. Beside him, Cora tensed, looking visibly uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Dearest, please, this is nothing to be upset over, can't you just--"

"No, Cora, I cannot!" He shot a glare to Jo, who'd gone entirely still. "And you! Must you continue to be a disappointment? It wasn't enough that you had to be born a girl, must you continue to mock me further by not giving me a grandson? God, you can't do anything right, can you!"

Jo felt her throat swell, unable to respond as she held Carrie close, trying to shield her from her grandfather's terrible, loud words. This wasn't fair, this was just awful! Everything had been so perfect, she should've known it would all come to an end sooner or later. Maybe he was right to say she was a failure, maybe he was right to--

"Mr. Blythe! How dare you!"

To Jo's surprise, Caleb had shouted. He'd shouted.

And he was angry.

No, not just angry. He was furious.

Jo didn't think she'd ever seen him this way before, nor had she ever thought him capable. He was always so gentle, not even the most uncooperative animal could make him upset.

This, it seemed, had been the thing to finally set him over the edge.

#sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 history #ts4 historical #decades challenge #wakefield legacy #1890s #tw: emotional abuse #tw: verbal abuse

[glitter50000]

Rattles and Whatnot

In which Ilya Morozova gets to meet his grandson for the first time

It’s smaller than I imagined. He stood in the center looking around at the hobble his daughter had decided to call home. 

With only one room and in that room laid a tattered cot and a wooden basket, Ilya could hardly call it a shack. However, if this is what she wanted then who is he to judge?

Well, her father of course.

Ilya had always worried about his eldest after his, unfortunate, parting. It’s hard to survive being Grisha, even harder being what she is, or what he gave her. Therefore he’d watch from afar. Follow rumors here and there and only express his concern should the situation be dire.

Now he isn’t a stranger to his daughter’s pointless quest for an immortal companion, as he gathered from his last visit after she had made it a pattern and buried her third child. Why she even bothered with this when she could’ve sought him out eluded him.

So hearing rumors of the notorious Black Witch striking fear in villages with a baby of all things swaddled tightly on her chest…

Well, that was something he had to see for himself. 

Had she succeeded? Do I truly have a grandchild this time? He couldn’t fight the small smile that appeared on his face, it would be interesting to see them. Would they possess shadow summoning like their mother? The same abilities as well? If they were enough for his daughter to keep them then they must be special. 

As he was musing over what his grandchild would grow into, footsteps were heard on the outside. 

Speak of the devil

He must admit, he was quite proud of his eldest. She had taken to the shadows naturally and had grown into a beautiful woman. She looked quite like himself and a selfish part of him was satisfied with how she seemed to bear no resemblance to her ignorant mother. 

She was too focused on her child. Bouncing them up and down and whispering quiet comforts, a soft, small smile on her face. Ilya couldn’t help but enjoy the tenderness of the scene.

“You’ve grown soft”

She whips her head at his voice, all softness gone from her face and replaced with only sharp glares. She wraps her arms around her child protectively from him, as if he would sink that low.

“What’s your name?” he asked. She would constantly change her name so it was always different. She didn’t answer this time though and instead finds the floor more intriguing.

He steps closer, clasping his hands behind his back. Must she always do this? It isn’t good for children to simply ignore their parents, no matter how old. He can wait though.

It’s a few moments when she huffs and looks up to face him. “Sofia.” She answered curtly, never one to disobey her father. 

“Thank you, wasn’t so hard now was it?” He ruffles her hair just to see her annoyed expression. Looking so much like when she was a child. 

“What are you even doing here?” Sofia sneered, clearly not one for small talk. 

“Is a grandfather not allowed to visit his grandchild every once in a while?” At this, she raises an eyebrow, but ultimately takes the baby out of the sling to place them in the wooden basket. While she’s in the process of taking the sling off, he observes her child. 

The baby’s asleep right now, looking so tiny and fragile. Had she ever been that small at one point? They look so peaceful and Ilya has to wonder how much can they sleep through considering Sofia’s lifestyle. Other than that, the baby looks healthy. Seems Sofia had truly accomplished what she wanted.

Ilya feels eyes bore into the back of his head and turns around to see Sofia staring intently at him. The material used to carry the baby wrapped around her arms. Was she watching him the whole time? 

“Can I hold them?”

She shakes her head.

“Can I know their name?”

She doesn’t answer. 

He rolls his eyes. “Do you hate me so much you won’t even let me know the name of my grandchild?” 

She sighs and walks over to the baby, bundling them up with the same blanket. Sitting on the cot, supporting their head. Sofia moves to the side, inviting Ilya to sit next to her.

“His name’s Aleksander.” She tells him, Ilya resists the urge to scoff. Instead choosing to run his fingers gently down the infant’s cheek, feeling the same rush of power he found when Sofia had hugged him. 

“An amplifier.” He states, looking at her to confirm it. She simply nods. It’s clearer to him why she would keep this one. The place makes more sense as well, away from people.

He sees the newly added dark circles under her eyes. “Does he keep you up at night?”

She gives a small chuckle. “Not always, he’s surprisingly a quiet one for the most part.” She faces Aleksander, a somber look painted on her face. “I’m just afraid.” 

“He is your son, it’s natural to be afraid.”

“Yes…” She’s distracted, too busy looking at her son. Surprised that he’s real and not a figment of her imagination. 

She looks like she hasn’t slept in days though. He holds his arms out. “How about I look after him while you-“

“No.” 

He drops his arms and forms his lips into a line. Figures. She was always possessive of what belonged to her. He can’t help but look back to when his youngest got the full extent of that. “Do you ever let him go?”

She shoots him a lazy glare as an answer. “Why are you truly here? It’s always something.” 

Oh, he almost forgot. “I do have something to give actually.” He ruffles through his bag before pulling out a small stick with a wooden ball attached to it, painted with black swirls all around it. Giving it a little shake the toy starts to rattle quietly. 

He hands it to her. “Consider it my congrats.” Which she takes with caution as if the toy will explode right there. 

“Thank you, I haven’t been able to get anything for him.” 

At that moment Aleksander began to stir and he starts squirming and whimpering, needing…whatever babies needed. Ilya can’t possibly remember sometimes, it’s just been so long.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He tells her as if he’ll just be back tomorrow. Ilya grabs his stuff and heads for the door. 

“I’d live somewhere else though.” He advises. “This is no place to raise a baby”

She gives a tight smile at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Later that night Ilya would find that his daughter disregarded his advice as he sees the two of them through the shack’s window. Sofia shook the rattle in her son’s face while Aleksander reached for it with his small hands. Similar to when he first saw her today, she has a soft smile on her face. Looking at Aleksander with nothing but love in her eyes.

And Ilya had found himself smiling as well, as he walked off into the night. 

#Uhhh first time writing fuck it this wouldn’t leave my head #I just simply have many thoughts on the Morozovas and Ilya seems like a fun character to play with #Plus I’m a sucker for pre canon #Featuring Baghra “I can’t let anyone hold my son for two seconds or I’ll die” Morozova #Look it’s basically canon in the book series that Ilya didn’t die at that river so I just wanted to explore if he ever met Aleksander #Also that one headcanon that ppl have of Baghra’s real name being Aleksandra makes an appearance too #Cause I just love that headcanon #Grishaverse fic #grishaverse #ilya morozova #baghra morozova

[abbatoirablaze]

Good Girl's Club, Nia's Baby

Word Count:  1.3k

“I NEVER THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD KNOW!” she all but screamed, finally caving to the line of questioning from her ex-boyfriend.  Her eyes flickered to the sleeping infant, and then back to him, “YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO KNOW!”

“I’M NOT BLACK, NIA!” Lance all but yelled in reply.  When he noticed Ari giving him a sideways glance from down the hall he frowned and lowered his voice, “neither one of us are black, and yet our daughter is…I don’t know how you possibly thought that would work out.”

“I cheated on you, okay…” she shrugged, not thinking too much about it, “it was when you were off taking those interviews across the country for different schools…and I mean…we had sex when you got back so the timing was close enough…there was a chance in my mind that it could be yours…so I thought…if everything was fine you wouldn’t have to know.”

“Jesus, Nia…” Lance groaned, rubbing his temples, “you said you wanted more commitment so you moved in with me…then you said I needed a job that would be a career, so I started taking more interviews at schools.  I bought the house for us…hell, you had me geared up to propose to you when I found out about her…”

“Guys…maybe you two should take a break from the conversation.”

Both Lance and Nia looked at the door where Britt stood, gently rocking her now partially awake grandchild.  Both of them looked at her in shock, surprised that they hadn’t noticed her wake or begin to cry.

“Whatever, grandma…”

Britt frowned at the sarcastic tone from her once-best friend.  Lance sighed, “Nia…she’s your best fucking friend…be nice to her for christ sakes…she and your dad didn’t have to come out to help us while I move out and yet here they are…they’ve been here around the clock to hel-”

“What…you going to flirt with my stepmom now that we’re done, Lance?  Good luck taking on my dad.”  

“I never fucking cheated on you, Nia…”

“I-“

“Guys…”

“Jesus, Britt…I don’t fucking care…I don’t even want her.  I’m giving her up to her father in a few days anyways…”

“Don’t say that, Ni…”

“Kaya’s father already said he’d take her…h-he was really excited about it.”

This time it was Ari who appeared in the doorway, a frown across his face, “you mean she’s leaving?  J-just two weeks with me and I’ll never see her again?”  

“She’ll be close,” she admitted with a small tinge of guilt in her voice, “Cami was asking me if I’d be willing to let her adopt her, but she’s still dealing with Steve and the divorce…not that she won’t end up calling her mom anyways…but you know Steve…he’d make it look like she was racing three demon babies instead of three little princesses…did you hear about how he is trying to get Stephanie and Jamie to call Peggy mommy?”

“Witnessed that firsthand,” Ari admitted sadly, the fact that his daughter completely changed the subject while muttering the quick hint about her daughters parentage going over his head, “we were over helping her get the place all tidy because Steve wants them to do a home inspection visit…to prove she’s a suitable mother.”

“For America’s golden boy, he’s a real asshole,” Lance grumbled, shaking his head, “who’d have thought…right?”

“See…all problems are forgotten when we bitch about Steve,” Britt said thoughtfully, handing a now sleeping Kaya off to Ari, “Lance…Ni…you two need to just take a step back and breathe…okay?”

“Nick’s going to be here in a few minutes…my boxes are already by the door…”

“You’re really doing this, Lance?” Nia asked, crossing her arms nervously, “y-you’re really leaving me…”

“Yeah,” he admitted sadly, “I know that you cheated on Bucky with me a few years back…but I-I can’t deal with this.  I can’t be that guy hoping you come home every night…hoping that we have a future together, when I’m just left raising the child that the guy one day won’t want.”

She nodded, the words catching in her throat.  She didn’t care to fight for the relationship…not when she knew that Lance had been willing to commit.  He’d become very much interested in a fairytale romance, like Bucky had been, and that was too much for her.  She watched his friend Nick come in, and they made a short conversation before he walked back out with a box.  Him and Lance began to alternate, until Lance came into the room. 

“I’m sorry Ni…”

She shuddered when he pressed a firm kiss to her temple and turned to pick up the box.  But she kept her upper lip firm and let him walk out of the bedroom with his final box. 

“Y-you okay kiddo?” Ari asked softly, watching his daughter bite her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“I-I’ll be fine.”

“How long do I have with Kaya, Ni?” he asked sadly, looking at his granddaughter’s sleeping face, “B-before you give her to the father?”

“He won’t be far dad,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair, “hell you guys will get to see her when you go to the tower to visit Buck or Cami…”

Ari’s brow furrowed as he looked at his daughter curiously, “Ni…who’s the father?”

“…how mad would you be if I said it was Sam Wilson?”

“I should fucking kill you…you know that, right Wilson?”

Sam gave his best friend a guilty look as the two of them did fight simulations with redwing, while he launched knives at it. 

“We were drunk, Buck…”

“No one calls me Buck…”

“Fine, Ja-“

“Don’t even say that…only she gets to call me that,” Bucky grumbled, shooting a glare at Sam, “and she gets to call me it for…reasons.”

“Is one of those reasons because she takes your c-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll personally cut yours off…”

“Look…she and I were a one-time thing,” he shrugged, “Cami brought her to the tower for a party…she told me she was single.  Hell…Cami introduced her to me…I think you’ve got it wrong thinking she likes me…”

“I know my daughter,” he growled, “she’s pushing you away because she doesn’t want to be hurt again…she’s still dealing with Steve…”

“America’s golden boy my ass,” Sam hissed.  He stopped controlling Redwing and turned to Bucky, “you know that mother fucker had an in-home visit scheduled to prove she’s an unfit mother…flirted like hell with the female inspector.  I was ready to strangle that son of a bitch, man.  That’s some really fucked up shit your best friend did to your daughter….”

“He’s not my best friend anymore, Sam.”

“Still pretty fucked up.”

Bucky threw a knife at Redwing and it hit it a spot where the joint connected, sending the drone to the ground.  He turned to Sam, “you tell my daughter yet the girl she was going to take from her best friend is your kid?”

“No,” Sam said slowly, nervously almost, “I mean…I know that the girls will be happy.  They loved the idea of the baby around, but-“

“It’ll prove that you fucked a girl…”

“Nia and I meant nothing.”

“You don’t put a baby in someone who means nothing…”

“Look, Barnes…not all of us fuck for love 100% of the time,” Sam chuckled, “just because you and the ex-wife fuck like rabbits and are in love with each other st-“

“You really think she loves me still?” Bucky asked hopefully, no longer interested in talking about Sam’s problems as soon as she was mentioned. Sam chuckled, clapping his friend on the shoulder. 

“When women say ‘I love you,’ during sex, they mean that they love you…”

“I thought it just…well…you know…”

“No…it doesn’t mean that they love ‘it’…it means that they love you…she loves you man…” Sam laughed, “Stark’s billions may have made the walls partially soundproof, but I think y’all broke the sound barrier last night when you promised to give her another child…”

Bucky blushed a deep scarlet, “y-you heard that?”

“I think the whole tower heard it…Buck.”

#goodgirlsclub #goodgirlsclubask #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #soft lance tucker #lance tucker #the bronze #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #falcon and winter soldier

[tirednerd2012]

My dad chose my abuser over me today again

TW for pregnancy, past abuse, body issues and suicidal thoughts/actions.

Also Cousin if you see this, please don’t read the rant. Just call me or something. 

My stepmom abused me for years. She was physically, mentally and emotionally abusive. She made comments about my body, weight and appearance to where I stopped eating a lot. She put her hands on me and then had my dad punish me when I fought back because she was “disciplining me.” She gave me a knife when my dad left for work after my mom had told them that I was struggling with depression and told me the world would be a much better place if I wasn’t in it. I was 16. And these are just some of the examples, I could go on but I’m not going to. But after the suicide attempt when I was 16, I left the house and didn’t come back. My last day we got into a physical fight and my father just watched the whole thing happened and he never once defended me to her. We went no contact for years until I became a Christian and prayed for him a lot, and after some healing and therapy, I wanted to confront him and after seeing remorse, I have been trying to build a relationship with him again.

My dad broke up with her shortly before my wedding (she cheated on him), and was upset when I walked myself down the aisle and then had a mother-daughter dance rather than a father-daughter. Apparently he wanted to say something at the wedding but was promptly shut down by the pastor who officiated the wedding and some of the groomsmen while my bridesmaids kept me and my husband occupied with other things, and I’m very thankful for that. He also got mad before that because when they were together, she was not allowed at my graduation party after I graduated college. I told him a couple of times that if she came, they would both be asked to leave. Mind you, she has never shown remorse for what she did. Never apologized or acted like she did anything wrong to me and to this day will say she was just playing around or disciplining me.

Well, they got back together a few weeks ago and he didn’t tell me because he was afraid how I was going to react. I found out from my grandfather who came by the house yesterday because he found some of my old baby books from his house and wanted me to have them for my child. He told me, thinking I already knew, and for some reason I felt like I was 16 all over again and he was choosing my abuser over me yet again. I talked to him today and he said that he doesn’t like being alone and that he’s allowed to make his own choices about who is in his life. He knows everything she did to me. And I know I may sound selfish but after I found out I was pregnant I thought about everything I went through and how I could never be with someone who hurt my child.

He then said that I needed to accept this and that she wanted to be in mine and my family’s life. She thought she had the right to my kid as her grandchild. And then he told me that if I couldn’t allow that, then he wouldn’t be in my child’s life either. That he wouldn’t help (never did anyway) and that he wouldn’t keep putting his life aside for me. That I’m too young to be a mother, that I’m going to fuck this kid up and I’m going to regret turning my back on my father and that my stepmom didn’t deserve such a jackass of a step daughter. 

I told him that he made his choice, that he’s right, he’s allowed to decide something like that, but he just lost one of his daughters and he is to never come around my kid when they get here. I hung up the phone and blocked him on everything while my husband did the same. I’ve been crying on and off for the last two hours thinking about it, and I literally feel like a child again. My husband has been comforting me this whole time and I’m thankful for him, but I also feel like I caused this because I’m the one who broke the no contact thing. I want my dad in my life but I don’t want this to be a constant fight.

#tw abuse #past abuse

[merveiilles]

⋆˚  ✧. ┊┊ ANONYMOUS;;   Anonymous asked: to change the subject, could you explain your lok muse? who is she?

// you mean this fabulous woman right here? Have you not watched Legend.of.Korra???????? Fam you are missing outttt. (I also like lok a lot more than atla. shhhh don’t tell anyoone I said that.)

this is Opal.Beifong. She is the middle child of To.ph’s grandchildren. Only daughter to Su.Yin and Baatar. And the only air.bender within the Bei.fong household that we know of. During book 2-3 of Lok an event called “Harmonic.Convergence” where the planets align and a bunch of spiritual badass stuff happens. It also grants random citizens- non-benders specifically- the ability to suddenly bend air. It’s the worlds way of fixing itself after the war. Opal is a crazy powerful bender for just being new to it. She’s shown to be able to create power blasts of air, enough to counteract her mother and Aunt Lin’s attacks at the same time. All the while jumping down from a higher up platform, and bracing herself with air. I love that part. There’s a lot more spoiler things I rather not share if you haven’t watched. But the new air.benders basically become peacekeepers and travel the world trying to maintain balance where they can. (Avatar.Korra was out of commission for a few years and they graciously stepped up to help with civil duties.) During book 4, Opal is shown to maintain a defense tornado that her and Jiinora (Aang’s oldest grandchild) started by herself while Jinora calls for help. She’s able to preform aerial acrobatics with ease and is quite fast using the new air.bender flight suit. She starts off as shy and often stutters over her words during book 3. But eventually finds her voice and her confidence once she’s granted permission to leave her home to join the other air.benders and learn their new lifestyle. In book 4, she’s more headstrong, tell it like it is kinda girl, and not afraid to raise her voice when concerning matters happen. Tbh, she doesn’t care for the Air.bender oath “I don't care about the oath! I have to save my family!” (Buttt she does care about the oath. shhh. It’s the Bei.fong anger talking) But she loves her family deeply and is eager to help the new air.nation in any way she can. I love her character, I had started to make her green outfit from book 3 with my late grandmother. But unfortunately we didn’t get a chance to finish it. And I have... no sewing abilities. So... it’s just hanging in my closet. We were almost done too. Kinda.... bittersweet. Opal is one of my comfort characters. She was there for me- in a sense- when I needed her most. She helped me come to terms with a lot of things in my life. It’s probably why I favour lok over at.la... because I have more of a emotional connection to this series than the last. I can’t tell you how many times Lok made me sob. like... gross sobbing. because something happened in the show. I can tell you how many times at.la has made me cry... none... I like at.la. It just doesn’t give me the same emotional connection as lok. But yeah... I hope that explains a bit for you. :)

#:☆: random babbling ( out of character ) #:☆: we just got a letter! i wonder who it's from? ( inbox ) #:☆: a silly little grey face asked... ( anonymous questions ) #long post tw

[missnmikaelson-main]

A Year to Eternity, Chapter 13

In the two hours since Dorian left the old witch house the dryad had not moved an inch from her perch in the rocking chair. If he didn’t know any better he would have said she was rooted in place; just another piece of the room. Only the occasional blink of her eyes betrayed her as a living, breathing being.

He opened the curtains, bathing the dryad’s circle in palest blue.

She startled, focusing curious eyes on him.

“What spell gave you utilized to find my Oliver?”

“It’s a new spell called Google,” Alaric turned from the window, silently blaming his sarcasm on the teenagers he spent his days surrounded by; luckily Bonnie had a dozen spells at her fingertips and an Original with hundred’s more at her side.

“You’re mocking me,” she frowned.

For a moment so brief he thought he imagined it her eyes glowed a pale green; lit from within by a power greater men once wept at.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, nodding, “but just a little bit.”

Something about her eyes niggled at the back of his mind; he had seen that glow somewhere before, lacking something — perhaps her penchant for offence and fear.

“Will you open the window?” Her mesmerizing eyes slid shut. “I would like to feel the breeze.”

His stomach twisted, eyes darting to the glass. “Until I know the full extent of your powers, I’d rather not.”

She sighed, tired of his veiled accusations and heavy suspicion.

“You need not fear that I will deceive you. Unlike humans,” she sneered, “dryads do not lie, and we choose not to harm.”

He sank into Dorian’s abandoned armchair and tilted his head.

“Is it that you can’t lie, or that you choose not to?” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“We cannot lie,” her eyes narrowed, “but we can choose not to answer. You have a question to ask of me?”

“I do,” he nodded; bright blue eyes flashed in his mind.

“I’ve given my terms.”

“This had nothing to do with the knife,” he held her gaze. “I swear it.”

She considered him for a moment before lifting her chin. “Ask what you will Alaric. I shall answer, or I shall not.”

“A few moments ago your eyes glowed green. Why?”

“I allowed my annoyance to show,” she looked to the window and the shadows of waving branches. “What you saw was a deep seated connection to nature.”

“I see,” he nodded, and briefly considered calling to run his thought process by her but shook the idea away. He had to ask now while the dryad was in a generous mood. “What if someone’s eyes… what if they glowed blue?”

Her neck snapped up with a creak.

“You know what that means?” He read the confirmation in her eyes. “Will you tell me?”

“I… see no reason why I should.” She shifted, causing the chair to sway. “Why should I tell you this?”

He folded his hands together and stared a beat at the circle holding her in place.

“There is a young mother, my… step-daughter, who has no idea what her child is.” He looked up in time to see her shift forward, interest piqued.

“You do not speak of an adult?” Her fingers curled around the chair arms.

“She’s a baby,” he shook his head, “only six months old.”

“With a mother who does not remember the father?” Her upper lip curled. She shook her head in disgust.

He swallowed, straightening up. “How do you know that?”

“It… it is their way,” she tilted her head, considering him for a long moment. At length she gave a sharp nod. “I would see this grandchild of yours, Alaric, and speak to the mother.”

++++

“I think I have to admit defeat,” she sighed, taking another toe pinching step up a concrete stair. “I wore the wrong shoes for this.”

“Shall I carry you?” He teased, pausing on the step below her.

“No,” she flashed an impish smile, “I just need to take them off.” She stepped out of one shoe and then the other, wincing when her sore feet flattened on the cool concrete. After a second the cold took over, soothing her aching arches.

She picked up the black satin pumps, hooking the toes on her fingers.

“Can you do me a favour?” She turned to face him and found the higher step put her at eye level.

“There is nothing I would not do for you, Elena,” he tucked a windblown lock of hair behind her ear. “What would you ask of me?”

“Nothing major,” she reached up, holding the back of his hand and absently twisting his daylight ring. With her free hand she waved her shoes. “Just that the next time you see me eyeing a cute pair of high heels remind me I haven’t worn them long term since before I was pregnant.”

“At which point you’ll choose something else?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” she smirked, “I’ll insist I can handle it, and while I’m squeezing my feet into a pair of shoes I probably should have given Caroline over a year ago you sneak a pair of flats into the trunk.”

“Is that all?” He traced her jaw with his thumb, enjoying the warmth of her skin.

“Make sure they match whatever outfit I’m wearing,” she attempted a stern expression, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Of course,” he nodded. “And will that keep you from being barefoot on National Monuments?”

“In the future, yes,” she nodded, “but these stairs are being taken barefoot,” she wiggled her toes. “Who thought forty concrete steps was a good way to greet foreign dignitaries?”

“I’m not sure, but the Sunset Symphonies were beautiful,” a jet flew overhead and he sighed, “before noise pollution forced them to cancel.”

“There was music here?” She looked to the left, examining the stretch of steps.

“From 1935 to 1965,” he turned enough to gesture to the water. “An orchestra played from a barge and the audience sat here: listening to music beneath the stars.”

“What was that like?” She tilted her head.

“I attended the first. They couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night,” he tilted his head, lost in a memory. “The sunset sparkled on the water, rippling in a cool breeze that reached the top of the hill. There must have been 10,000 people between the Lincoln Memorial and the bridge, and hundreds more were on the water in canoes awaiting the National Symphony Orchestra. You could hardly see the grass for all the people, and the crowds grew larger every year.”

“I wish I could have seen that,” she sighed, fiddling with her shoes.

“The NSO is still performing at the John F. Kennedy Centre.”

“That’s not the same though, is it?” She shook her head. “There would have been people from everywhere who wouldn’t normally have access to it. Tickets now would be hundreds of dollars which only certain people can afford, and they’re usually the stuffy type.”

“Are you calling me stuffy?” He slid his hands around her waist.

“Maybe a little bit,” she teased, draping her arms over his shoulders.

“I resent that,” he tilted his head. His left hand slid down and pinched her behind; she squeaked and pressed into his chest.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” she scolded, breathless. A few people glanced their way, but his hands had shifted respectfully to her hips where she fit perfectly.

“New Orleans has many open air concerts, and of those the majority are child friendly…” he trailed off when he caught her expression. “What?”

She took a deep breath that brushed his chest.

“I love you.”

Pressed as close as she was she felt his heart beat a little faster as a slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

The Watergate steps faded around them until all he saw were her bright eyes.

“I love you, Elena Gilbert, and I have for longer than I should have considering our situation.” He listened to her racing heart.

“How long?” She licked her bottom lip. “You’re not gonna say Willoughby are you?”

He chuckled and pressed a featherlight kiss to her mouth, murmuring ‘before’. It began when she was human. He didn’t know exactly the moment it happened, only that he was in deep when he signed the letter, but he had kept his heart caged to avoid further complicating her life; the last thing she had needed was another vampire professing his undying love.

“That’s a long time to know something like that,” she whispered.

“Well, large portions of that time were spent in a Chambre de Chas, dead and then without memory,” he pulled back to look into her eyes.

“If I’m going to stick around for eternity then you’re not allowed to die again.”

“I’ll do my best,” he swore. “I never thought I’d have the opportunity to have you forever.”

“Is that how long you want me?” Her eyes flickered, searching his gaze.

“Always and Forever seems like just enough time,” he drew circles into her waist, “and somehow not quite long enough.”

“Always and Forever, huh?” She felt her stomach flutter. “I like the sound of that.”

She made it halfway to his smiling lips when her cell phone rang in her pocket; somebody had an excellent sense of timing. She pulled away with a sigh to answer in case it was Hope, and frowned at the caller ID.

She pressed the phone to her ear.

“Ric?”

++++

“Elena,” Alaric kept his eyes on the dryad as he spoke, “I’m sorry. I would have waited until morning, but I knew you’d want to hear this now.”

She leaned a little closer, gaze transfixed on his cell phone as if she could hear the skepticism in Elena’s tone; for all he knew she could.

“What could be so important I’d want to know it right now?”

“I’ve met someone who might know something about Serena, but she’ll only talk to you.”

“She?”

“What magic is this that allows you to converse with one so far away?” She blinked, curious.

“It’s not magic. It’s a phone; most people have one these days.” He held the receiver away from his mouth.

“Is that her? Put me on speaker please, Ric. I don’t have superhuman hearing.”

He complied and held the phone towards the barrier spell.

“You’re on with a dryad.”

“Does the dryad have a name?” Elena sighed.

“Not that she’s said.”

“You never asked,” she scoffed.

“Well, you did say you’d give us no answers until we found your Oliver,” he winced, shame crept up his neck. “I figured your name was one of those answers.”

“If you had bothered to ask, as your clearly more cultured step-daughter, you would have received an answer. My name is Willow. How is it you come to be in this phone?” She tasted the modern word on her tongue.

“I’m not in the phone Willow,” she laughed softly. “It’s just transmitting my voice, but I can’t even begin to explain how that works. What do you know about my baby?”

“I must see the child to be certain,” Willow watched the phone.

“Will a picture do? It’s passed her bed time.”

“And you do not trust me with your child,” she glanced up.

“No offence Willow; I just don’t know you.”

“You are a mother, Elena. I understand your hesitance.” Willow sat straight. “How did you get her to react long enough for an artist to paint?”

“Paint?”

Alaric could practically see the confusion on her face.

“They’re pictures; they were taken instantly… or as close to instantly as anything can be.”

“Fascinating… if they were in the moment they may suffice. Can you bring them?”

“We’ll be there within the hour.”

Willow startled at the sound of Elijah’s voice but made no comment as Elena spoke again, confirming their imminent arrival, before hanging up.

He put his phone away and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting from Willow to the window.

“You are anxious,” she tilted her head, red hair spilling over her shoulder.

“You’re honest, I believe that, but sometimes, in this world, telling the truth can do more harm than good.” He glanced to the doorway and swallowed. “Elena’s been through a lot, and she’s stronger than many in the past have given her credit for, but she’s human, and flawed and there’s only so much a person can take before it becomes too much.”

She leaned back, squaring her shoulders and crossing her legs.

“Ask your question, Alaric.”

“Will this hurt her?”

She remained silent for a long moment, thinking, until the quiet grew too great and he shifted in his chair.

“It might, and it might not.” She met his stare. “I cannot lie to her, and though you may try to protect her you cannot. No father may shield his child from everything; try as you might.”

“I’m not her dad,” he shook his head, “I didn’t even know she existed until she was seventeen.”

“Yet you act as her father, and likely grandfather to the babe. You love them both.” She tilted her head, sensing the emotion he kept inside. “Family is far more than blood Alaric.”

“You’re right,” he nodded. He hadn’t realized his feelings toward Elena were what they were until his twins were born. Sometimes he thought she looked at him as a father, but the subject remained untouched; she’d had a family, a mom and dad she’d loved so much, and he suspected acknowledging what was between them might feel a bit like a betrayal of the Gilberts, as though she were insulting their memory.

“So,” he cleared his throat, changing the subject before things got sappy. “Who’s this Oliver that Dorian went to find?”

Instant change overtook her face, softening her expression with the memories of days long gone.

“Oliver never lied.” Her nails tapped the edge of her chair’s arm. “He was not like the other men who would come into the forest to chop down trees so that their houses could be bigger than other houses. He played music,” she smiled, wistful. “He would lean against the trees and feel happiness. We fell in love,” her voice strained towards the end.

Concern flashed in his eyes.

“You should know… he might not be around anymore. It’s been… a while since those days you remember.”

“Oliver made a great sacrifice,” she lifted her chin. “He became a vampire so we might be together forever. We decided to meet at the clearing where we fell in love so we could run away, but… circumstance got in the way.”

He nodded, sighing at the ground. When he looked up it was to sympathetic eyes.

“I feel your pain. You have lost a great love.”

His breath caught. He added empathy to her known abilities.

“A psychic tree?” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Check.”

“Is your humour helpful in avoiding your pain?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“Not really,” he exhaled slowly, “no.” He felt her critical eye as he stared at the floor.

“You carry more than one loss.”

Their faces flashed in his mind. He saw Isobel’s smile, heard Jenna’s laugh and felt Jo’s warmth beneath his fingers.

“Several,” he blinked: Isobel’s disappearance, Jenna’s funeral… Jo’s blood.

He swallowed, speaking around the lump in his throat. “Including Elena’s mother, and the mother of my twins.”

He paused for a moment, and when he spoke it was in a thick voice.

“There’s some happiness there too.” He saw Isobel’s determination and Jenna’s temper in Elena, Jo in the twins. “I can still see her sometimes when they smile and laugh.”

Willow smiled, and they sat together in silence for a long moment until Dorian returned, interrupting the burgeoning connection.

“Good news and bad news,” he paused at the door, looking between them. “Bonnie did some sort of combo spell Kol provided, summoning and astral projection, but…” he trailed off and stepped out of the way, making a path for a seemingly young man with blonde hair above a confused face.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

Willow beamed, excitement seeping from her in a wave. “Oliver?”

She got to her feet and moved as close as the boundary spell would allow. Her smile failed when he regarded her with nothing but confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he sounded genuinely so, “but do I know you?”

Alaric could only imagine the pain in her heart. His eyes shifted to Dorian as Kol entered the house with the ring on a looped thread.

“I’m guessing that’s the bad news.”

++++

Elijah parked the Bentley beside a dark SUV bearing the school logo, illuminating Kol in the headlights where he leaned against a vine covered pillar; the quick flash of silver in his hands resembled the mystery dagger that had caused so much trouble.

Before either of them could open their doors, or utter a single word, a stranger left the house. Elena couldn’t hear him, but something about Kol’s expression caused a seed of sadness to take root in her breast.

“Elijah?” She breathed, reaching for his hand on the gear shift.

“I don’t know him,” he held her fingers, “he wants to leave.”

He twisted, looking in their direction. She thought she saw a flicker of recognition when the stranger met her eyes. She didn’t have to hear to make out the name on his lips.

Elijah stiffened beside her and Kol gave a sharp shake of his head.

If he had looked at her with any emotion beyond curiosity her heart might have dropped as it had so many times when her identity was in question, but the stranger didn’t look at her like a jilted lover or a sworn enemy. At most he had met her ancestor in passing; maybe he had heard of Katherine’s demise and suddenly thought he heard wrong.

Kol must have corrected him because the man nodded and then disappeared, leaving behind an Original with a broken string.

“Bonnie’s doing,” she exhaled. A name floated on the edge of her mind; she grasped for it while opening the door. “How much do you want to bet that was Oliver?”

“I think the odds are good.”

Elena glanced down at the ground where dozens of broken twigs and sharp pebbles beckoned with threats of sliced soles. Reluctantly, she worked her swollen feet back into her shoes and winced when she stood and her toes pinched.

“What are you two doing here?” Kol twirled the dagger around his fingers.

The cold bite he directed towards her had melted months ago after an awkward apology during goblin research. They weren’t besties and would probably never braid each other’s hair, but it was nice going into eternity without hatred.

Then again, he remained unaware of her impending forever. Maybe he’d pick up a vendetta when he found out.

“Willow has information on Serena,” Elijah placed a hand on the small of Elena’s back.

“Willow?” His brows lowered.

“The dryad,” Elena drew her jacket closed, keeping out the cool spring breeze. “Her name is Willow. You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t stick around for introductions,” Kol shook his head. “I didn’t want to add discomfort to her upset; Willow is unlikely to be forthcoming.”

He glanced toward the cottage as Alaric stepped outside with Dorian, affording the dryad a moment alone.

“The heartbroken so rarely are,” he sighed.

Elena spotted moisture glistening in the corner of Alaric’s eyes, caught in a beam of moonlight; Dorian appeared upset, but otherwise unaffected.

She felt the folded page crinkle in her pocket as she took half a step towards them. She took another and drew in a shaking breath; they made a space for her to walk between, but she paused to watch them.

“We think we’ve figured out why nobody remembers these creatures.”

Elena arched an eyebrow at Dorian’s choice of terminology; almost everyone in the loop chose ‘creatures’ or ‘beings’, but Dorian had been using ‘monster’ since the beginning.

“Whatever happened to them erased all memory of them,” Alaric swallowed, “it’s like they never existed.”

“How do you know that?” She shifted on her feet, feeling the dread pluck at her neck.

“Oliver was her lover, they were going to run away together before whatever happened, happened, and he has no idea who she is,” his eyes flickered to the door. “She wasn’t talking after he left; I don’t know if she will anymore.”

She pushed between them, pausing only when they called her name to say ‘nobody should go through heartbreak alone’.

And she loved that Elijah understood without words that she wanted to go in alone.

Damon would have flat out refused to let her approach a potentially hostile supernatural.

Stefan would have taken convincing.

Matt would have followed for backup.

He provided the support from outside, either speaking to his faith in her or himself; knowing Elijah it was probably both.

She shut the door behind her and followed the rustle of leaves to a circular boundary.

“Willow?” She dropped her hands to her sides.

Slim shoulders shook beneath a shimmering cape.

“Are you okay?” She received no reply; Willow didn’t even acknowledge her presence, staring instead through the grime covered window.

She considered the barrier a beat before taking a deep breath and condemning herself to the circular prison until someone let them out.

She stepped over the line of herbs and placed one hand on her shoulder, rough like tree bark beneath the silk cloak.

“Willow?” A twig dislodged from her hair.

She looked up, catching Elena in overly large eyes.

“I heard what happened,” she swallowed, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m sorry.”

She stayed silent for a long moment, studying Elena’s features.

“You really are, aren’t you?” She murmured. “You’re Elena. You came for answers, not to commiserate over my lost love.”

“I can commiserate,” she smiled, shrugging. “Do you need anything?”

Willow appeared sickeningly green, and her breathing sounded short, but for all Elena knew that was perfectly normal amongst dryads.

With a short wave of her hand Elena opened the window. A cool breeze stirred their hair and Willow’s large eyes closed, revelling in the fresh air.

“I’ve never been in your situation exactly, but I am sorry.”

“Thank you, Elena.” She opened her eyes. “There is something you can do for me.”

“Of course,” she nodded.

“In this moment I would choose not to dwell,” she stood at eye level. “Show me the picture of the child.”

Elena passed her the folded sheet with the snapped photos of Serena’s fingers, toes and eyes at three weeks old.

“They were taken months ago,” she twisted her coat between her fingers and pressed her lips together. “She’s a lot bigger now, and her hair came in red, of all colours. Apparently my grandmother had red hair.”

“She is healthy?” Willow touched the glowing eye.

“It was touch and go for a while, but now she’s great.”

“That’s remarkable,” Willow breathed.

“Why? Do you know what she is?” She could see the look of concentration on Elijah’s face as he listened in outside the house.

“I do,” she lifted her gaze, “as I know all other children like her — the ones who weren’t stolen from their cradles — died within weeks of birth. How have you kept her healthy?”

Her stomach dropped as her mind replayed the words with an accompaniment of angry red skin and terror filled screams.

“Two baths a day,” she forced out the words around the lump in her throat.

“She will need more as she grows and becomes more active,” Willow nodded, staring at the pictures.

“What is she?” A large part of her never wanted to know what transpired in Brazil, but another recognized her need to understand everything about her baby girl in order to keep her safe and healthy.

“She is a naiad.”

“Bloody hell!” 

Elena’s eyes darted to the open window when Kol swore loud enough for her to hear.

“She is also whatever you are,” Willow added. “I sense you’re not entirely human.”

“Gypsy,” she nodded, taking the traditional name. “What do I need to know about naiads?”

++++

“What is it Kol?” Elijah’s eyes flickered over his brother’s abnormally pale features.

He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head, hesitant to offer up whatever forgotten information had sprung up in his mind.

“One of my grimoires mentions a naiad,” he exhaled, seeing the cramped Gaelic in his mind’s eye. “The account spoke of fatherless children stolen in the dead of night and never seen again.”

He was moving toward the door before Kol finished speaking.

Elena spun toward the swinging door and read the panic in his eyes. Her brows lowered in silent question.

Fear cinched his heart.

“Is someone coming for her?” He stared at the dryad and got the distinct sense she saw straight through his attempts at intimidation.

She studied him, large eyes roaming his form.

“Does hostility bury your fears?” Willow cocked her head.

“Is someone coming for who?” Elena stepped toward the barrier, stomach trembling.

“Serena,” he held his breath.

She paled.

He very nearly crossed the barrier to hold her, but he held himself back. He didn’t trust himself to refrain from killing Willow if he disliked her answer.

“Why would someone come for her?” She looked back to Willow, voice shaking.

“Your child?” She looked to the page after frowning for a beat at Elijah. “At her age it’s unlikely. They will think her dead; if the children are not taken within the first few weeks they die.”

“Who takes them?” Her knees felt like water.

“I’m given to believe it was long ago when I last walked the earth. Humans lived near great sources of water then — near enough to walk in a matter of hours. For the children born to these human mothers the naiad father would reclaim them, but the mothers would often believe their baby possessed and leave them out to die, or they thought them changelings and left them in a grove. Some of these were fortunate and found by dryads in time to be returned to the water, but many more perished.”

Anger flashed behind her eyes.

“Had I known the children could survive with their human mothers I would have done things differently. Then again…” she sighed, eyes darting from Elena to the window she had opened, “… most mothers were entirely human, and humans have the most deplorable habit of persecuting that which they don’t understand. Perhaps they would have been worse off with woman who feared them.”

Elena’s jaw clicked, teeth clacking; only the barrier spell kept her from claiming Elijah’s hand. She reminded herself that as a ‘magical’ mother the assessment didn’t apply to her; her little girl was happy, healthy and loved. And the odds of her remembering one terrified scream that occurred at three weeks old were virtually non-existent without supernatural intervention.

“Why differently?” She latched onto the word. Her mind worked to go in a million directions to a million scenarios, but lacked the required information to start. “If someone had taken her what life would she have had?”

Willow’s eyes dragged back to Elena as she tilted her head, catching a breeze in her hair.

“Children are precious to Naiads; she would have been protected. It is the environment she would have grown up in.” She pressed her lips together, considering her words. “Naiads are only able to have children with humans. Females drown their partners as a way to protect their kind, but males possess an ability to wash away the memory of encounters with human woman. They can sense the time a woman might conceive, and combined with an ability to enthral humans many…” she hesitated, hearing Alaric’s words, “… many use their ability to force relations.”

Blood drained from Elena’s face. She swayed dangerously on her feet and would have fallen if Elijah hadn’t stepped into the circle, wrapping his arms around her.

“Not all,” Willow amended, meeting her eyes. “Perhaps those traditions have faded since I’ve been gone. I’m given to understand it’s been a while and there were some who did not approve of these methods.”

“But they still took the memories?” Elijah tightened his grip when Elena began to shake, tremors running down her spine.

“Humans persecute what they don’t understand,” she raised her arms, encompassing the circle of herbs as evidence.

She drew in a steadying breath and turned, silently raising her left wrist. She locked eyes with Elijah; dark veins spidered across his cheekbones.

He cradled her hand and pressed his lips to the delicate network of veins, piercing the skin with his canines — careful to only press with his fangs and leave two small punctures; her blood still exploded across his tongue, igniting his desire for her. Not that he needed an excuse to hold her tight and banish the dark thoughts from her mind.

Willow leaned in closer, curious, as Elena held her wrist over the barrier.

Two drops of blood painted the bud of a dried flower. The air shimmered. Elijah stepped back, taking Elena with him across the line.

She reached out a hand; clearing the line of herbs as the door swung open. 

Dorian’s eyes locked on her hand and then flew to Elena’s face. Whatever warmth he had begun to feel for Willow’s situation evaporated, replaced by fear.

“What have you done?” He stared at the pristine handkerchief on Elena’s wrist.

“I thought that obvious,” Kol twirled the knife between his fingers. “Darling Willow over there, appears to have gained Elena’s trust. And given the doppelgänger’s history that is no easy feat.”

“Kol,” Elijah’s tone held a note of warning, hard and unyielding; a stark contrast to the gentle way he held Elena.

“And now she’s free with nothing to stop her from taking the knife and leaving us with no answers.”

“Why would I do that?” Willow lowered herself calmly into the chair, eyes shifting from Elena to Alaric. “You honoured our deal, so too shall I. What do you wish to know?”

++++

“What do you want to know?” A silver spoon brought a dainty helping of honeyed yogurt to pale lips surrounded by laugh lines.

Caroline savoured her coffee and glanced over the woman’s face. Chestnut ringlets, leeched of colour in places by the hand of time, framed sharp eyes; intelligence shone from the depths under envy inspiring lashes. The set of her mouth warned anyone who looked that she was not a woman to be trifled with.

“We’re looking for information on the merge,” Klaus sat down his coffee cup, “it’s a curse that effects the Gemini twins.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow as she deliberately placed her spoon on the breakfast table and pursed her lips.

“Not a peep from you in forty-six years,” she hummed, “and now you come for information? You’ve never made a habit of getting involved in witch business.”

“The gemini twins are fourteen years old,” Caroline’s knuckles turned white, “and they are my daughters. I’ve grown rather attached since having them and I have no intention of losing either of them to some ancient curse.”

Her heart raced, pumping adrenaline through her blood. Instinct said to wrap her fingers around the delicate throat and squeeze until she got answers. Social decency scolded the thought.

Klaus’ hand on her thigh grounded her.

“You should make your peace with what is to come.”

His fingers, the only thing keeping her from lunging, tightened.

“You are correct in your assumption that it’s a curse,” Lydia continued, glancing between them, “but this is one curse that can’t be undone. The gemini twins were cursed millennia ago by the Gypsy coven, and as the entire supernatural community knows the Gypsies met their end on the second day of May sixteen years ago.

Caroline paled, eyes flickering to Klaus as Hope’s birthday came up; the same day Damon first died in a fiery explosion.

“Without a gypsy your daughters will be forced to merge.”

“How can you speak with so much conviction?” Caroline simmered.

“The knowledge is not common, but it is there for those who know where to look, and those in positions of power.” Lydia’s fingertip circled the rim of her coffee cup.

“And which are you?” She gritted her teeth.

“I am the high priestess of my coven,” she lifted her chin.

“That’s new,” Klaus tilted his head. “Last I heard you were still called Maiden.”

“Maiden?” Caroline’s brows rose.

“For the goddess Persephone,” Lydia smiled, “a symbolic title bestowed on the daughter of the high priestess, symbolic, nothing more. And that was forty-six years ago,” she turned to address Klaus. “I took over when my mother passed ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that she’s passed,” he nodded.

“Thank you,” her dark eyes focused on Caroline, tinged with sadness. “My coven kept the knowledge of our progenitorial covens.”

“What do you mean ‘progenitorial covens’?” Caroline leaned forward, heart in her throat.

“I mean that 2000 years ago, give or take a few decades, a rift occurred between the two covens; it was strong enough that a small portion of witches from each broke away.” She tilted her head. “They severed all connections with their families and bound together a new coven; one free from the family feuds. Severing the bonds protected my coven from the curses.”

Lydia hummed, tapping the table.

“The Gemini cursed the Gypsy coven as punishment for their part in an ancient spell, and only the leader of the Gemini knows how to break it; in retaliation the Gypsy coven placed a curse upon the leaders of the Gemini, and every future leader. Only a gypsy born of an ancient bloodline would know how to break it.”

“And the travellers are gone,” Klaus finished.

“Not all of them,” she caught his gaze from the corner of her eye.

“The coven was destroyed,” Lydia reiterated, speaking slowly, as if to children.

“The travellers are gone,” Caroline shifted her weight, mentally pulling up a flight schedule, “but they’re not all dead.”

“Any remaining would be from non-practicing families. Families that stopped practicing centuries ago, so even if you found one they’d lack the information you seek.” Lydia shook her head.

“Even if she’s born of an ancient bloodline?”

“Caroline, she would have told you anything she knew,” he frowned.

“She didn’t exactly throw herself into learning,” she vibrated with energy. “She barely cracked the books because they were written in half a dozen languages, so what she knows she knows from Bonnie, plus that one spell she got from Hope.”

“You know a gypsy from the ancient bloodlines?” Lydia’s brows rose.

Klaus looked at Caroline for a moment, contemplating the situation; it would be just their luck to travel halfway around the world for a solution that had been under their noses the entire time.

“Yes,” he felt the corner of his mouth raise in an involuntary smile, “we do. And she’ll be more willing to help Caroline than she was me. Thank you, Lydia.”

[whimsyprinx]

a very interesting occurrence with my roommates nana is that she either hates what I wear and makes little comments about me needing to change or looking disrespectful OR she likes my outfit and claims I’m all dressed up and never dress the way I do when she’s complimenting me (completely false, unless I’m going through it I remain pretty consistent with my style and what I wear) and like she can hate an outfit or a piece of an outfit one day and love it the next,, it’s just A Lot

#whimsy whispers #lex and kane told me to just ignore it but like how can I shhdjfjr??? #I’ll be so worried she’s gonna have something and to say about my outfit and she won’t and will even tell me I look cute which throws me off #and then I’ll be confident my outfit is fine and she’ll just be like :/ that’s an outfit #Like genuinely I just never know what to excpect #my pajamas which she sees me in for a second are disrespectful and bad and awful #but a short skirt and platforms are fine #the other day I was in pajamas and a coat and she told me I looked so sweet all covered up #ma’am im cold.. #it’s like it was nice of her but like Weird #she’s been very nice about my outfits lately but in a weird way that I can’t place it’s throwing me off like #please be consistent because I don’t know what to expect on any given day #this applies to just how she cats around/about me #some days she’ll be nice and it’s like ‘I’ve finally gained her acceptance’ then other days it’s like oh my god this woman hates me #she just #she’s called me her step daughter a few times and her grandchild like once #but on other days it’s just like I am gum on her shoe or something #it’s like getting to me like pls pls pls do you hate me or not ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #‘just ignore her crystalline’ y’all have known. like your whole lives I have not I cannot ignore this I am sensitive

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 14.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Heart Tugging Yoongi, Crying, Emotional

A/N: This chapter is early because I’ll forget to post at 5 like an idiot :) shoutout to the squad @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna this chapter is goooood!

You have ascertained at this point that although Yoongi is incredibly fit -- he's never done heavy lifting in his life.

You watch him continuously mumbling to himself while carrying things over to the wooden porch, stopping himself whenever your father passes with something in his arms to show a tired smile.

It's kind of hilarious.

"Well! That's it!" you dad says, clapping his hands together happily. He stands on the porch, a smile etching onto his features as he looks at you.

Yoongi sighs happily beside Minho, feeling proud of himself that he's actually done something on his own for once.

"Will that be all, Sir?" Minho asks, his voice filled with amusement.

The CEO grimaces at him. "That'll be all. Be back here in two days with a new set of shoes for me and an Irish coffee."

Minho nods bowing to the both of you before climbing back into the car.

"Your mother is making bean paste in the back," your dad notifies you as he kicks off his sneakers.

You hum sweetly, walking up the steps to take off your own shoes.

Yoongi puts his hands on his hips, looking at the hanok with curious eyes.

"Here goes nothing," he mumbles, following after you.

"You didn't have to get us anything, you know," your father tells him. Helping him push all of the gifts into the house.

"It's my pleasure," Yoongi breathes out.

Your father turns to your boyfriend, holding up the Japanese whisky and winking at him. "It's a nice gesture though. I'll drink this well… by the end of the night." he whispers conspiratorially to him.

Yoongi finds himself smiling, chuckling to himself.

You're a lot like your father it seems. He likes that.

Stepping into the hanok, Yoongi feels like he's in a museum. Which, he can't help but kind of love. Everything seems so olden but perfectly taken care of.

"We do have a bathroom and beds, luckily for you." your dad jeers.

When you step inside, you feel so at home. Nothing has changed at all and it's so perfect.

"Wait for it," your dad tells your boyfriend, putting the gift baskets on the wooden table.

"MY GAESU!" you scream happily.

Yoongi jumps at your loud voice, eyes widening. He's never heard you screech so loudly.

A small corgi runs out to greet you, tongue sticking out with excited heavy breathing.

He watches you bend down, pulling the dog into your arms.

"Be careful," he admonishes you sweetly, watching you rock the dog in your arms.

Your father watches how concerned Yoongi is for you, how he presses his hand to the small of your back for support and he smirks at the sight.

"Whisky, Yoongi?"

"That'd be great, thank you Sir." he replies kindly, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

"Call me Dad," your father says with a wink.

The sentence sends Yoongi frozen. He's never heard such a gentle tone from a father figure before. He's only ever been used to tones of disappointment or anger.

"Alright," he whispers, grabbing the glass with a tentative hand.

You smile at the sight before you, Gaesu constantly licking your cheek to show how much he's missed you.

You know that Yoongi is going to love your parents, it'll just take a while to settle in.

"I heard the infamous scream," you hear from the back door.

Your heart warms at the sight of your mother.

"Mom," you whisper, taking in how happy she looks.

For the first time in a long time, she looks healthy.

"I missed you!" your mother whines, opening her arms to hug you.

"I missed you too!" you reply, hooking your chin over her shoulder.

The CEO can see how fond you are of your family. He hopes it'll be the same for this small family you're making of your own now.

"This is Min Yoongi, my boyfriend," you say, pulling away and nodding to the handsome man.

Your mother's smile seems to widen at the sight of him. "Oh, wow. You're so much more handsome in real life than on my t.v., as if that's possible." she breathes out, her cheeks starting to blush.

"It's nice to meet you," he laughs, bowing to her.

She bows back before sighing. "I'm a hugger!"

He hugs her awkwardly as she pats his back. You giggle at the warm sight before you, you know this must be so strange to him.

"You are the culprit that got my daughter pregnant?" your mother teases, sending him flinching.

He chuckles awkwardly, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. "Guilty." he whispers.

"Well thank God, I thought I'd never have a grandchild," she says, slapping his shoulder.

"Okay, mom." you mumble, rolling your eyes at her dramatics.

"This baby is going to be cuter than a button!" she promises, pointing between the both of you.

Yoongi finds himself filling up with warmth, chuckling as your father rolls his eyes to him.

"Why don't you both get unpacked? And then we can start to make dinner," your mother suggests.

"Yoongi's never cooked before," you tell her, going to pick up your luggage.

The CEO groans gently as you all giggle. This is what family must be like. Joking and loving towards one another. He finds it akin to how him and Maya act sometimes.

"Don't even think about it," he tells you, watching you grip the handle.

"I can pick something up," you whisper as he narrows his eyes.

"So can I. Show me where the room is, little dove." he instructs, grabbing the luggage.

Rolling your eyes, you shrug to your parents as they give affectionate smiles.

"My room and the guest room?" you ask your mother, watching her hug your fathers side.

"Just your room. You're already pregnant, what else could happen?" she replies.

Yoongi's cheeks burn with embarrassment as he picks up your luggage. But, he's content with knowing that he can sleep with you for the next two nights.

He finds himself already fond of this wooden and paper house. And maybe even warming up to the people in it.

"Just through here," you tell the CEO, picking up Gaesu.

"I didn't know you have a dog," Yoongi says, stepping into your old bedroom.

"Leena's allergic so I left Gaesu home," you reply.

He hums understanding before yelping out as he looks around your room.

"What?!" you whine, putting your hand over your heart.

"THERE'S A CHICKEN ON THE BED!" he yells, dropping the luggage to the floor.

You can hear your dad laugh loudly from the kitchen and you snort loudly, stepping into the room and sliding the door shut.

The chicken takes one look at Gaesu before jumping off the bed and scurrying around the room.

Yoongi gasps loudly, jumping onto the bed with fright written all over his face.

"Catch it!" he cries out, shoving his hands in his hair.

"Relax, it's just Miguk." you say with a laugh.

"Why is there a fucking chicken in your bedroom?!" your boyfriend whines.

"Because we keep chickens for eggs? And Miguk probably wanted to be some place warm?" you ask confused, setting down your dog and opening up the bedroom door for Gaesu to chase Miguk out.

"So you don't have a heat lamp or some… warm place for a chicken to stay? Do I have to buy one for you?!" he asks, smacking the bed to get rid of a few feathers.

"It's just a chicken, you'll be eating one in like two hours," you say laughing loudly as the animals finally leave your room.

"It's disgusting. I need to change the sheets," he whispers, clearly grossed out.

"You know the walls are paper and wood?" you mouth to him, shutting the door.

"I shouldn't have to scream about a fucking chicken laying in the bed I'm sleeping in tonight," he mouths back, flailing his arms.

"Everything okay?" your mother sings from the kitchen.

"Yes!" you both reply at the same time.

The CEO finds it hard to not stare at where the chicken was standing just seconds ago.

"Come on, Yoongi. It's okay," you say, sitting down on the end of the bed.

"I don't think you understand that I'm fucking traumatized," he whispers fiercely, watching as a shadow of a chicken walks by the paper door.

"Do you need me to hold you?" you ask, sounding as if you're speaking to a small child.

He grimaces at you, folding his arms.

"No! I just don't understand how this is normal behavior," he retorts softly.

"Welcome to my home," you whisper, booping him on the nose.

He swats at your hand childishly, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

"I like your parents," he mumbles softly as you place both of the luggages on the bed.

"See, I told you. They're nice," you reply happily.

"You need to promise me that I won't wake up in the middle of the night to a chicken trying to poke my eye out with their beak. Do your parents feed them properly? Are they on a mission to assault guests?" he whispers fiercely, grabbing your hands.

"You're an insane person. You're actually fucking crazy," you whisper back, kissing the top of his head.

"What's crazy is that there was a fucking chicken in your childhood bed," he says appalled, appreciating the warmth of your lips on his skin.

"If I'm not worried about it, you shouldn't be worried about it," you say with a smile, grabbing your change of sweatpants.

"That's what they said about Pompeii and a fucking volcano erupted!" he barks out in a fierce whisper.

You find yourself giggling, combing your fingers through his hair. Almost immediately he feels himself relaxing.

After washing up and putting on comfortable clothes as well as insisting to your boyfriend a multitude of times that no farm animals would kill him in his sleep, you were ready for dinner.

Or, ready to make dinner anyway.

When Yoongi was younger, he used to watch Maya cook for him. His parents were never really home, it was just him, Maya and her daughter Myeyoung.

He has no real skills besides making money and playing poker.

Stepping back out into the hallway, he's surprised to witness such paternal affection.

Even from the short distance he can see how much love your father has for your mother as he cuts up an apple for her.

Would he ever get this? Would you be like this to him?

"My Gaesu-ah!" you call sweetly, slamming the paper door shut.

Yoongi takes this in also, how affectionate you are to an animal.

His father had hunting dogs that slept in cages outside of their home in hopes that they would feel less attached to humans.

There was once a time where his father bought him an expensive bird for hunting. He ordered Yoongi to train it. Being only six years old and without love, the CEO named the bird and praised it whenever it did well with orders.

He remembers showing his father, so excited that the bird did his bidding. But, Min Sangcheol was angry when he saw the bird catering to Yoongi's every whim.

"You made this bird adore you, that's why it does what you ask of it, you've ruined the fucking animal."

And his father broke both of the bird's legs.

"Yoongi?" you whisper softly, watching how entranced he is with your dog.

Looking up quickly, he gives you a sad smile and your heart tugs with uncertainty.

"Are you okay?" you ask, earning a gentle squeeze on your side from him.

"Come on," he whispers, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

Hearing your footsteps, your parents smile at the both of you.

"Yoongi, you didn't have to buy us such things!" your mother chides him, gently smacking his arm as she holds her new Chanel purse to her chest.

"I wanted too, it looks made just for you," he compliments, rubbing his hands together awkwardly.

In all actuality, it looks just perfect for her. With a gentle giggle, you can tell how absolutely smitten your mother is with him already.

"The tie you got me is perfect, I'll just have nowhere to wear it," your dad jeers to the CEO.

Yoongi chuckles, picking up his forgotten whisky glass and taking a sip out of eyesight from your parents.

"Very good manners," your mother whispers to you.

Humming, you can only agree. "He took etiquette classes when he was younger." you inform them.

"You should show Y/N's father a thing or two about etiquette."

Your father rolls his eyes, grabbing a wicker basket from near the sink.

"To the chickens, my love," you dad says, shooing you out the back of the house.

"Do you like dak galbi?" your mother asks, putting the gift baskets in the living room.

Yoongi watches you leave, his blanket of comfort gone from his sight. His left hand wraps around his right arm, feeling his usual comfort drift away. "Yes, Ma'am."

He feels awkward. He looks awkward as he stands beside the kitchen counter, watching as your mother begins to prepare ingredients.

The older woman can see how forlorn he looks, how completely out of his element he is and she can understand why you care for him like you do. He's broken.

"Come," she says, pointing to the seat across the counter.

He gives her a nervous smirk, sitting down in the seat she was just in.

"Have you ever peeled a potato?" she inquires softly.

With a small smile, he shakes his head. Black pieces of hair fall into his eyes and he goes frozen as your mother pushes them back just like you do.

"Well you're going to peel potatoes today," she tells him with a smile.

When she smiles, her face contorts quite like yours. And, suddenly he feels okay even for a little while.

Setting a bowl full of potatoes down in front of him, she hands him a peeler.

"We'll make you a chef yet, Min Yoongi," she winks.

Chuckling at her words, he begins to peel. It's clumsy and he loses the potato a few times from how wet it is, but he gets the hang of it after a few minutes.

"One time, when Y/N was younger she went on a potato ban. No french fries, no potato pancakes, no potato chips," your mother laughs at the memory, earning soft eyes from your boyfriend, "she was so adamant that she hated them for a good week or two. Then one night, I woke up in the middle of the night to crying. I went to check on her and she woke up telling me that she missed potatoes so much that it gave her nightmares."

Yoongi laughs along with your mother, shaking his head.

"I hope our baby comes out like her," he whispers hopefully.

In that moment, he realized just how comfortable he had gotten so quickly. It's easy to open up when you're welcomed. His instant reaction is to close himself off again but your mother catches it before he does. Not even giving him a chance to close himself off.

"You have a lot of good traits, Yoongi," your mother praises, beginning to cut peppers.

He hums unsurely, focusing on the task at hand.

"She's going to be a great parent, I'm not sure if I will be," he replies softly, he's so quiet if your mother wasn't paying attention she wouldn't have heard him.

"Why do you think that?" your mother asks and his eyes shoot straight up to hers.

In her eyes is softness and kindness that he sees in you on the daily.

In his eyes is worry and unsureness and your mother croons softly, petting his head maternally to give him some comfort.

He freezes at her gentleness but it reminds him so much of Maya that he feels his heart warm.

"Well my parents weren't very warm with me so I'm very cold with everything I do. Y/N isn't like that. She's understanding and always kind. She has patience and I lack that in spades." he whispers, washing some dirt off a potato.

Your mother hums. "Were your parents mean to you?"

He clears his throat, grabbing the whisky glass and turning away from her as he takes a huge gulp. "Yes Ma'am," he replies through gritted teeth, the alcohol warming his pallet.

"Well, let me tell you something about parents," she whispers across the counter, situating herself on her elbows, "some people aren't meant to be parents. They didn't have that affection when they were young and they don't know how to offer any to children as they get older and need to be cared for. My parents really shouldn't have had me, my father was cruel and my mother was obsessed with soju. I was a very mean, bitter child but as I grew up -- I came to realize that cycles must be broken in order for people to grow. Sure, I could have stayed mean and angry but that just leaves your heart black and broken. It's up to whomever feels this way to try and strive for a new path."

Yoongi takes in all her words, staring at her as she stares back.

Such wisdom. It's heartwarming and jarring.

"I see," he murmurs.

"Now, you're going to be a father. You should break that cycle, hmm?" she asks, picking her knife back up.

He nods thoughtfully. Just the way your mother speaks, it seems like she's lived a thousand lives. It feels as if she knows a part of his soul he couldn't begin to understand.

"You don't know how to be a father. Y/N doesn't know how to be a mother but you'll make that work. Because in actuality, you both care. You both want what's best for your child and you, sooner or later, will understand that they're the most important thing in your life. Not bitterness or hatred. Some people don't see that, but you will Yoongi." she says, throwing the peppers into a bowl.

"H-How do you know?" he stutters, gripping the potato in hand tighter.

"Because I see how you look at Y/N when she isn't looking at you. Like she makes the sun rise in the morning because she's willed it to be so." she says offhandedly, grabbing some green onions.

He whistles long and low at her wiseness, letting the potato fall from his hand to grab his whisky glass.

"I'm very grateful for how you raised her, she's wonderful. So thoughtful and caring… So completely different than anyone I've ever known before. She…" he finds himself saying, just letting his emotions fly out.

"She's bringing you inner peace and happiness." your mother says, looking up from the cutting board.

"Yes." he breathes out.

"And that's scary." she comments, wiping her hands on her apron.

Swallowing thickly, Yoongi turns to the open back door. Watching you gather eggs with your father. He can see your smile from so far away and his throat tightens at the sight.

"Y-Yes," he mutters.

"Y'know. The best thing about being frightened is knowing how at ease your heart will be when that's over." he turns back to your mother as she rounds the counter.

When she goes to hug him, he doesn't flinch this time.

"Your parents may have been mean to you, Min Yoongi. But, that doesn't define you. It shouldn't define you. If you need maternal affection, you can turn to me. I'm plenty of a mother for you and Y/N," she puts her hand over her heart, smiling down at him. He can feel his eyes beginning to burn and he apologizes as he bows his head.

"You don't need to be alone Yoongi, we're a family here and you're very welcome in ours," your mom whispers, cupping his face to raise it.

"Oh fuck," he cries gently, putting a shaky hand to his eyes.

He's never heard such earnest words like this from a parent and it brings him such relief that it makes his body wrack with sobs.

"All you've ever wanted was to be loved and be happy, I'm sure. We can do that for you, if you want that," she whispers, hugging him tightly.

His mouth opens, a small strangled groan leaving his lips as he cries louder.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Clicking her teeth, your mother rubs his back. "You never have to apologize for being emotional."

"Everyone can pretend to be strong, Yoongi. It takes a real person to admit how emotional and hurt they are."

Biting his bottom lip to quiet his sobs, he buries his face into your mother's arm as she holds him tightly.

He's never been held like this. Maya never held him like this because she worked for him. She's never spoken so straight with him before. She's loved him and he knows that, that's why he loves her too.

But she's never seen into his soul like this. She's never sat him down and spoke the words he needed to hear, even if it made him break down. But, your mother has.

Your mother has given him something that he's never had. And, he wants it more as he holds her.

He wants that maternal affection.

He wants to be a part of your family.

He wants to be loved.

He wants to be cared for.

And it hits him like a truck when he thinks of you.

You can give him all of these things. You can make him into the one person he never thought would see the light of day. He never thought he could even be that type of person.

But from a distance, he can hear you laughing with your father and he cries harder.

He wants it with you.

He wants you to care for him.

He wants you to love him.

He wants you to be his family.

"Oh my God," he whispers, pulling away from your mother and wiping his face on his t-shirt.

"You will call me Mom from now on," she says, booping his nose.

With a small smile, he nods. He turns to the open paper door once more, watching as you smile and laugh with your father.

He wants this family with you.

"So," your father says, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"So!" you reply with a laugh, hugging him tightly.

Nearing the chicken coop, you can hear clucks of excitement as the chickens wait for their food.

Stepping out of the way, you let your father feed the chickens seeing as how you haven't done it in so long. It's for expediency.

"I like him," your father approves.

You smile gently, gathering egg after egg and placing them in the basket.

"He's a little rough around the edges but he's a good man." you insist.

Your father wipes his hands on his pants, getting rid of the small flecks of feed that linger on his palms. "You know, he looks at you like you're the most important thing in his life."

Snorting gently, you lean against the chicken coop. Your gaze fixes on the sky watching as pastel shades bleed into one another. But, you focus on the orange that mixes with a hazy salmon.

"His problem is -- he doesn't know what's most important in his life. He doesn't know how to live normally. He doesn't know regular emotions and that scares him," you announce, tracing a cloud absentmindedly.

Your father leans against the chicken coop with you, tracing your gaze to the sky.

"I see. He's never had a family, has he?" your father prods.

You shake your head, looking down at the basket in hand. "No. He's only ever had himself and heartache." you affirm.

The older man hums, looking at the dirt beneath his feet. "We should give him a family then," he surmises.

With a gentle scoff, you feel your eyes beginning to burn with raw emotion. "He deserves it. He doesn't even know what he deserves."

"Well, you do, kiddo. You know." your father insists, nudging you with his elbow.

Humming, your arms fold like a comfort blanket around yourself.

You want Yoongi to be so at peace. To love and know his surroundings. To at least understand what he feels day to day.

"Come on, your mother must be putting him through hell," your dad jeers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You laugh, wiping at a stray tear that's had the chance to fall.

You want him to be your family.

Stepping back inside, you can see his gummy smile while he talks with your mother and your heart soars at the sight.

"Here, Mom." he whispers, handing her the bowl of potatoes.

The word he utters, sends you spiralling.

"If she's Mom, then I want to be Dad. You promised!" your father quips, setting the baskets of eggs by the stove.

Yoongi turns to you both in the doorway, black pieces of hair in his eyes as he chuckles.

"Yes, Dad."

Your father hums happily, the smile lines by his eyes wrinkling.

You watch the sight before you, your throat constricting and your nasal passages burning.

Yoongi is happy.

"Excuse me," you gasp, taking off to your childhood bedroom.

"Y-Y/N?" Yoongi calls you, watching you rush off down the hall.

He stands up, bowing to your parents. "Pardon me."

He rushes off to find you, wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants.

"Little dove?" he calls gently, opening the paper door.

Sitting cross legged on your bed, you hold a tissue to your face.

"What did I do wrong?" he asks quickly, shutting the door for privacy.

He's done nothing wrong. It's a shame he always thinks it as such. You were just so astounded, so fucking happy that he could speak so warmly and freely. It took over your whole body.

"Are you upset with me?" he inquires, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

You shake your head violently, sobbing into the tissue.

"Then what is it?" his voice is soft and unsure.

Pulling the tissue away from your face, you take in the worry lines that are etched onto his forehead.

With a whine, you wrap your arms around his neck tugging him into a hug.

Yoongi croons softly, rubbing at your back with comforting swipes.

"Is it the baby? Are you in pain?" he whispers into your ear, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"No," you breathe out, hugging him tightly.

"Alright." he whispers perplexed.

"I'm happy," you insist, burying your face into his neck.

He feels his heart slow down from the racing pace it was just at. His eyes flutter shut as he pulls you into his lap.

"Me too," he replies truthfully.

Holding each other so closely, your heart beats seem to meld as one. You sit in comfortable silence, your sobs stifling and quieting down to nothing.

"You just looked so h-happy that I…" you croak, balling his shirt in your fists.

The corners of his lips flick upward, his eyes opening to look down at your body in his lap. With soft eyes, he presses his lips to your temple.

"Min Yoongi, I'm going to cut this chicken without you!" your mother calls out.

You feel his body shake with a laugh. "One minute, Mom!"

Your lips press into a straight line, tears threatening to fall again.

"You're happy that your family is welcoming me?" he asks, pulling you away to cup your face with both hands.

You whine gently, nodding while his thumbs stroke at your cheeks.

"I'm happy they're welcoming me too. It feels warm." he whispers, shushing you as you let out a small sob.

"You'll let your family be my family, right?" he asks hopefully.

"Always," you whimper.

He smiles softly, his eyes taking in every curve and inch on your face.

"You'll be my family?" he inquires nervously.

"Yeah, I'll be your family." you cry happily.

He looks up at the ceiling, trying to ebb away tears that threaten to come.

"Good. I'd really like that," he replies gratefully.

Pulling your face closer to his, he kisses you softly, both of your eyes fluttering shut.

When you pull apart, his forehead presses to yours.

"I have to go cut a chicken," your boyfriend mumbles, earning a gentle laugh from you.

"Go cut a chicken," you whisper, sliding off his lap.

"I'm really happy with you," he says earnestly, pushing some hair behind your ear.

"Me too." you reply, watching how he smiles so brightly.

Holding his hand out, he dries your face with the hem of his shirt. "Come on, let's make dinner."

To watch Yoongi laugh and talk to your parents as if he's always known them makes you feel fuller than any of the food on your plate could provide.

"Y/N saved me in History class one time," Yoongi announces to your parents, picking up his glass of whisky.

They hum inquisitively and you lean back against the wall as he chuckles.

"I did really terribly on a quiz that I didn't study for. And, the teacher was embarrassing me. But Y/N told me when the Mongols invaded Goryeo."

"1216." you state, earning a smile from your boyfriend.

He holds up his fingers and you stare at them.

You do remember it.

You remember how embarrassed he looked as a child. You felt the overwhelming urge to help him.

"I remember," you whisper.

He chuckles gently with a hum. "Anyway, she saved my bacon."

Your mother watches you both as you continue to stare at each other over the table. This is good. This is healthy.

"Yoongi, do you play any card games?" your dad asks, setting his chopsticks down on his empty plate.

The smirk that graces his features is devious and you giggle.

"I play poker," he quips, watching as you set down your chopsticks.

"Every Thursday," you add.

Clicking his teeth, he puts a piece of chicken over your unfinished rice. "Eat more for the baby," he insists.

He sounds so sincere you find yourself picking up your spoon.

"Would you like to play poker, later?" your dad inquires.

Yoongi nods, his hand under his chin as he watches you eat. "That'd be great, Dad."

"So how far along is my grandchild now then?" your mother asks, cleaning up the empty plates.

Your boyfriend immediately begins to help her, something he's never done in his life. "Sesame is almost ten weeks old now." he replies and you sit back on your hands to watch him help her.

"Sesame is a cute fetus name, I like that very much."

You can feel the sheer adoration beginning to drip from your mother for your boyfriend. When you first entered his mansion, you had absolutely no idea that it would lead you here. You couldn't have even guessed that he would be becoming a part of your family.

"I have some pictures if you want to see them, I can get a few more copies made to send to you the next time we go to the doctors." he suggests to her as they enter the kitchen.

"I'd love that," she cheers happily.

"I really like this guy," your father whispers conspiratorially to you, picking up your plate and bowl.

You find your nose wrinkling in delight.

"Me too," you mumble, watching your boyfriend's black hair fall into his eyes as he chuckles.

"I really like him too," you mutter to yourself, resting your head against the wall.

"Something tells me that this is your first relationship," your father says, shuffling the deck of cards.

Yoongi looks up from his whisky glass, a small smirk gracing his features. "That obvious, huh?"

The older man laughs, setting the cards down in between both of their bodies. "Just a little bit," he quips.

The CEO chuckles to himself, looking around the barren land of your backyard.

It isn't quite a farm and it isn't quite a relaxing place either. But, he finds it quaint. It's the company that's more so relaxing.

"Everything with Y/N is a first for me," your boyfriend admits, dealing the cards.

"Oh?" your father pushes, picking up his glass of whisky.

Yoongi hums softly, almost unsurely. "Emotions. Caring. Being concerned. Happiness. Actually wanting to be happy. It's all new." he breathes out, looking up at the star flecked sky. 

Your father smirks over the lip of his glass, his smile lines appearing.

"It's hard to break out of a shell, isn't it?" the older man asks.

Answering the question, Yoongi nods.

"It'll be worth it though, won't it?"

"Oh yes, it will be. That's the thing about finding someone you want to care for. You find that everything you're feeling, whether it's new or not, is very worth it." your father replies, throwing a few peanuts into the bowl, in the place of poker chips.

Yoongi does the same, his cheeks puffing out as he thinks.

"Y/N's worth it," he surmises, picking up his whisky glass.

The older man smiles, raising his glass to the CEO. "I'm glad you think so too."

Their warm talk is cut off by the sound of a chainsaw a far bit of distance away. Your father huffs out, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

"Old man Im is at it again. Y'know, I can't stand that old prick," he gripes, laying his cards down on the small garden table.

"Old man Im?" Yoongi inquires, squinting at the house lights in the far off distance.

"I've been offering to buy that man's land for years now, it's lush and my wife would be able to plant flowers in it but he always asks for such a high price that it's nearly impossible! He wants to sell the land! He just won't give it to me because Y/N threw a rock through his window when she was a little girl," he proclaims, grabbing the peanuts and munching on them.

Yoongi watches how irritated his new family member is and he's immediately annoyed as well.

"How much is he asking for?" The CEO inquires, folding his arms.

"Five million," your father mumbles, grabbing the stack of cards to shuffle them again.

That's pocket change.

"Old man Im, huh?" Yoongi mumbles, watching the house lights shut off.

Yoongi knows you've been in bed for some time when he enters the shared room. The sheets are ruffled due to your constant turning and your hair is splayed all over your pillow.

He finds himself smirking at the sight, stripping off his shirt to climb into bed with you.

Sliding beneath the sheets, he shivers at how cold his side of the bed is. But he's immediately warm as you throw your body over his.

"Did you have fun?" you mumble somnolently, putting your head on his bare chest.

He snorts gently, smiling up at the ceiling. His eyes flutter shut at the comfort of your body on his. Stroking your head gently, he breathes deeply letting the pleasantness of today wash over him.

"I had more fun today than I probably have ever had in my life," he answers you truthfully.

Your fingers drift over his abs and it's instinctual that he flinches. "Sorry, still working on it."

He still finds it surprising how easy it is to apologize to you when he has never said he's sorry to anyone in his life.

You shake your head, kissing over his skin softly. The shock drifts away, leaving Yoongi to only be comforted by your lips.

"Why do you have so many small tattoos?" you inquire, dragging your fingers over the colorful ink.

Looking down, his tongue runs over his lips feeling as if they're drying out. "Each one is a memory I don't want to forget."

"A memory?" you repeat, picking up your head to look him in the eyes.

"A memory of every cigarette burn that wasn't my fault," he croaks, clearing his throat as he caresses the apple of your cheek.

Your blood runs cold at his strangled voice.

"Like this one, the one of the hummingbird. I put up a bird feeder on my balcony in the winter so they wouldn't starve. And, my father told me that I have no brain. 'Why would you invite those rats with wings into the sanctuary near your bedroom? Are you Mother Theresa, huh? You're making them weak for not finding their own food.' I remember it all the time." your boyfriend says, staring at the paper door as he recites the old memory.

Your teeth grit, eyes narrowing as you cover the tattoo with your hand.

"I hate him," you whisper fiercely, putting your head back on his chest.

"Get in line, little dove." Yoongi murmurs, closing his eyes with a smirk.

There are so many small tattoos that litter his chest, and your throat constricts just looking at them in the moonlit room.

Yoongi looks down at your hand that covers a selection of scars. "Interested in any others?"

He doesn't mind sharing his past with you. In fact, no one knows about these stories he would so quickly give up to you. Not Maya or Namjoon. No one.

"It'll just make me angry," you mumble, turning your head to look up at him.

He chuckles, running his hand over your arm to your stomach. "Well, we don't want that. Anger is poison for Sesame. I should know, I've been poisoned twenty eight years of my life." he sighs.

You scoff gently, moving to lay fully over his body.

"Watch the baby," he grumbles, running his hands over your back as he looks back up at the ceiling.

There's silence for a bit. You just stare at him. Staring at the handsome broken man that's never known happiness.

"I can feel your eyes burning holes into my face," he jeers, squeezing your side gently.

"I really like you," you tell him, sitting up.

He peeks one eye open, the corners of his mouth flickering up with a snort.

"I like you too, baby. That's why I want you to be my family." he replies softly, stroking your thighs with his large hands.

You hum assertively, putting your hands on your hips. "You are my family."

He chuckles, kissing his fingers then mushing them into your lips. "My family member without my blood, housing my family with my blood. My goodness. How much luckier can I get?"

With a smile, you tilt your head as he clears his throat. "Thank you for bringing me here, little dove." he thanks you, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it softly.

"What'd you talk about with my dad?" you inquire, laying down beside him.

Turning his body to yours, he pulls your back against his chest, situating his hand on your stomach.

"Just this and that. I'm probably going to buy a farm tomorrow," he murmurs sleepily.

"A farm? What for?" you ask, running your fingers over his arm.

"I hear that a farm around here has great land for planting. And, I want my family to be able to plant." he whispers, burying his face in your hair.

You go to lift your head in confusion but he shushes you softly.

"Sleep now, little dove. Sesame is tired, just like their father."

The words warm your heart and you smile to yourself, tracing random shapes over his skin.

It's easy for you to wake up in your old bed to the sound of roosters crowing good morning. It's not so easy for the father of your child.

Folding the pillow over his ears, he kicks his legs childishly.

"I hate chickens!" he whines loudly, stamping his feet on the bed.

"That's a rooster," you correct him, stretching as you stand up.

"Smart ass!" he barks out, flipping his body over.

Smothering his face in the pillow, he groans loudly.

"Guess he's not a morning person," your mother calls from the kitchen and the CEO's head immediately pops up.

"Yes, I am!" he retorts softly, his eyebrows furring.

"Mhm," you droll, combing your fingers through your hair.

Sitting up in bed, his joints pop and crack loudly to which he groans.

"The air here is so fresh," you exclaim, opening up the bathroom window.

"Why are you so chipper? We went to bed late," Yoongi inquired with a grumble, standing up out of the bed to crack his knees.

"Because I'm with my family," you reply, turning on the sink.

The CEO turns to the mirror, tilting his head as his hair falls into his eyes.

You're with your family. And that includes him.

He finds himself smiling to himself, grabbing a t-shirt from his luggage.

"Family," he whispers, running his fingers through his hair.

The simple word has so much more meaning than two days ago.

"Did you bring another set of comfortable clothes?" you ask him, peeking out of the bathroom.

"Why?" he inquires, showing you a pair of expensive sweatpants.

"Because it's six o'clock in the morning and we don't get up that early to just stare at each other," you quip with a laugh.

His hand falls, clutching the sweatpants with a frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you ever done manual labor?" your father inquires to the CEO, watching him sip his coffee.

Yoongi looks up from his Irish coffee, internally groaning at the question.

"No. I'm a CEO," he retorts, setting down the cup.

Your hand slides over your mouth as you begin to smirk.

"Well, my knees aren't what they used to be. You'll help me gather some apples from the trees out back, won't you?" your dad asks, a kind smile gracing his face.

Pressing his lips into a straight line, your boyfriend sighs. "Of course, Dad."

"Good boy," your mother praises, petting his head sweetly.

He smirks at how affectionate she is.

"And what're you going to do while I'm hard at work?" Yoongi inquires of you, watching you kiss the top of Gaesu's head.

"Probably help my mom cook lunch," you reply.

Yoongi immediately begins to smile, "I love when you cook."

With a giggle, you wrinkle your nose at his cuteness. "I know you do."

"Alright Mr. Never-Did-Manual-Labor. Let's go pick some apples!" your dad cheers, patting your boyfriend on the back.

Yoongi is grateful that you insisted on comfortable clothes. He would have never pictured himself climbing a ladder a day in his life, but here he is. Climbing towards the heavens to just reach for a few apples to fill up a basket.

"I was thinking about something last night," your father states, holding the ladder still as the CEO continues his journey upward.

"Oh?" your boyfriend replies, sitting down at the top of the ladder.

"Why'd you get married to that woman, if you don't like her?" your father prods.

Yoongi's eyes widen, staring at the canopy of leaves not so high above him. Oh, if the ground would only open up and swallow both him and the ladder whole.

His hand shakes as he reaches for a ripe apple, his Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably.

To be truthful, even though he's only been here a day, he'd forgotten that he's married. He's forgotten that he lives with a despicable woman who ruined him.

"Because my parents made me," he announces, almost falling off the ladder due to nerves.

Your father holds the ladder tighter, watching how nervous the younger man's back is. He can see it tensing and shaking like he's frightened.

"They can just make you get married?" your father asks, clearly appalled.

Yoongi turns to him, dropping an apple to him with a smirk. "Rich parents can make you do anything in the world."

Your father hums softly, his eyebrows furring while he catches the apple.

"Is she mean to my daughter? Should I be worried?"

Yoongi finds his teeth gritting. The simple idea of your father being so worried about you in a house with that leech makes him wrought with anger.

Folding his body over the top of the ladder, he narrows his eyes at your father. "Dad, nothing will ever happen to Y/N and our baby. I would die before that bitch has a chance to hurt them or be mean to them. There is nothing for you to worry about, because I would never let that happen."

Your father's eyes widen at how angry your boyfriend has gotten at the drop of a hat. But, he knows just how serious he is. And he finds his body filling with warmth at how protective the father of your child is towards you.

He hums gently, nodding to Yoongi letting him know he understands. "Why don't you just divorce her?"

The CEO's arm stops as he reaches for another apple.

Why doesn't he just fucking divorce her? Who is she to him? No one.

And then he remembers. And he sees red once more.

"My head maid Maya. She had a daughter named Myeyoung. Sera made her move out when we got married because she was beautiful. I never thought so, she always felt like a sister to me. She was always around so she was just a comfortable person to me. When she moved out, I helped her get a job where she could make enough money and live a good life. She opened up her own art gallery. But I learned what a snake that woman is, that damned woman who loves in my house. If I ever divorced her -- Sera swore she would ruin her life and make Myeyoung suffer if I ever took her money away from her." Yoongi fumes, running his fingers through his hair.

Your father shivers at his words, completely appalled with how bitter and evil this woman sounds.

"I see," he whispers softly.

Yoongi can feel anger coursing through every part of his body as he hangs onto the top of the ladder.

He hadn't thought about it in so long, he hasn't wanted to think about how absolutely vile Sera is. But, she's always brought up and always around to make him miserable.

He takes a deep calming breath.

"Maya has always been like my mother when I didn't really have one. I couldn't just let Myeyoung get fed to the wolves. She's too sweet for that." he announces, grabbing an apple and ripping it from its stem.

"You're a good man, son." your father praises, catching the apple as it falls.

Yoongi chuckles darkly, his tongue licking at his lips. "I'll be a better man when the leech is out of my life."

"Where are we going?" you whine, following your boyfriend as he tugs on your hand.

"I'm going to buy a farm." he replies happily, wading through thickets of bushes.

"This is Old Man Im's farm! He hates me!" you insist, feeling old emotions of terror from when you were a child.

Yoongi stops in his tracks, turning to you.

The sun is setting now, the pretty colors of the sky highlighting your features.

How he adores you.

Lifting his hand, he cups your cheek.

"You know, I'm feeling an emotion that I've never experienced before." he states, stepping closer to you.

With both of your bodies shrouded in the large thicket, it's only you and him.

"What are you feeling?" you ask, concerned and wanting to help.

He hums unsurely, wrapping his free arm around you. Pulling you up against his body, he pushes some stray hairs behind your ear.

"Whenever I look at you, little dove, my heart races like a horse on Sunday. I feel weak and needy when I'm with you. I just want to hold you without the need for food or water. I just want to stare at you every minute of every day.  I just want to… keep you. Forever." he admits.

Your cheeks puff out, heart warmed by his kind words.

"Maybe what you're feeling is infatuation? Or maybe you're feeling comfort?" you ask, adoring how his arms wrap around you, tugging you to his body.

"No I'm not infatuated with you, I'm infatuated with art. My heart -- it bleeds for you." he says, putting his hand on the back of your head to bury your face into his chest.

"Well, we'll figure it out together then," you reply.

"I'd like that." he whispers.

He knows what emotion this is, even if he's never experienced.

He's falling in love with you.

Next Chapter ------->

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[accioxreparo]

surprises | f.w.

synopsis: After being gone for a few years you and Fred show up at the Burrow for Halloween with a surprise no one expected.

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

warnings: none except its unedited

a/n: hi I’m in love with dad!Fred and I thought this would be cute. And yes, their costumes are all inspired by The Greatest Showman cause I rewatched it the other day. Also it’s not my best writing and its a little rushed but I hope you guys still like it. One more fall prompt coming tomorrow for my dia de muertos inspired fic before we move on to winter! 

“This is all your fault.”

“Is not.”

“Is too,” You set down the change of clothes you were in the process of transfiguring and turned to glare at Fred who looked much more at ease than you were. “If you hadn’t insisted on showing her that movie the day would have passed by like nothing.”

“How’d you expect me to say no when she was looking at me with those big eyes of hers?” Fred moved to stand behind the place where you were sitting. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

An amused smile cracked through your otherwise stern expression and immediately Fred knew he had you. But you still shook your head as he jumped over the couch, landing beside you with a soft thud. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

He hummed, not bothering to argue at all because he knew you were right. “You both do.”

“Good answer,” You nodded as you put down your wand and the now shiny red coat. “Where do you plan on taking Evie trick or treating exactly? You’ve never been and we’ve only just moved back.”

“Don’t you worry, my darling,” The smile on Fred’s face, the same plotting, mischievous one you’d fallen in love with long ago, did little to reassure you now. “I’ve got just the thing.”

*

You weren’t too sure what you’d been expecting but finding the photos removed from all your albums laying out all over the counters of your kitchen the next morning was not it at all.

“Alright sweetheart,” Fred laughed a bit at the look on your face before showing Evie another picture. “What about your Uncle Georgie, what do we think he should be?”

Your eyes trained on your daughter as she stood on her chair and searched a different set of pictures. Her face was scrunched up in concentration and you couldn’t help but notice how strikingly similar she looked to Fred, who was wearing the exact same expression.

A warmth filled your whole being as you watched the two of them looking at the photos. Photos of your family that Evie had yet to meet. Time had simply gotten away from you during the last few years. Now that Fred had taken the liberty of hiring a manager for the New York location of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes you were back home.

“This one!” The sudden exclamation caught your attention and as she pointed towards a picture in one of her books.

“A monkey!” Fred laughed and picked her up from her seat making her giggle. “You are just brilliant, princess. Why don’t you go tell your mum what you picked out for her?”

You caught Evie as she ran for you, lifting her up with ease and setting her on your hip. “Mummy you have to wear the purple dress daddy got you. He says it’s the only one.”

Almost immediately you knew exactly which one she was talking about. One made of silk that was much too short to wear out on any other occasion. When you turned to look at Fred he’d placed a hand over his mouth in a weak attempt to keep from laughing.

“Did he now?”

“He did,” Evie nodded rapidly and you laughed as her hair shook all around her. “There’s a surprise too but we have to put on our costumes first.”

“Well why don’t you go start and I’ll help you in a minute, okay sweetheart?” The moment you put her down she ran for her room and you made your way to Fred and all the pictures he’d stacked on top of each other once more. “And just what is your surprise?”

He only beamed at you, tapping the edge of the pictures once on the counter before pocketing them. “We, my darling, are taking her to the Burrow.”

You stared at him for a moment before realizing that he was completely serious and crossing your arms in front of you. “Fred Weasley you cannot show up unannounced to your mothers with a little girl she has yet to know about, are you trying to give her a heart attack?”

“Technically I have been announced,” Fred stood and pulled you into him, hands resting on your waist. “I owled everybody last night and told them to be there by one to help me get everything ready.”

“Did you tell them why?”

“Of course not, it’s called a surprise for a reason, love.” Fred only chuckled and kissed you once. The action was quickly cut off by Evie shouting for you from her room. You sighed a bit before stepping out of his hold. “Stay here until I come get you two okay? And don’t forget that dress of yours.”

“The only reason I’m putting it on is for Evie.” You smirked a bit, already starting to move backwards.

“Oh of course, love,” Fred nodded before matching your smirk. “And if she just so happens to want to sleepover at her grandma’s tonight then that is completely a coincidence and we might as well take advantage of that outfit of yours.”

You laughed then turning around before he could say anything else. “Just go.”

*

“Hey mum,” Fred was beaming the moment he stepped into the Burrow once again. Almost instantly Molly wrapped him into a tight hug. She quickly went on a slight tangent about how long it’d been she’d seen him as he greeted Arthur.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked as she finally moved to glance behind him to see if she could spot you.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Fred didn’t miss the way his mum’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Fred chuckled before reaching for the last of the photos he’d brought along with him. Molly only watched as he smiled at it before handing it over to her. “Nothing bad anyway. Something really good actually, look.”

Molly stared at him for a moment more before looking down at the picture in her hands. A gasp escaped her when she saw three people smiling up at her in the moving photograph. There was Fred who was pulling you into his side, you in the middle of laughing at something, and a little girl waving at the camera.

A little girl who was practically a carbon copy of you but with Fred’s eyes and freckles. The picture couldn’t possibly have been that old considering the fact that he looked almost the same. Nonetheless, it was the absolute last thing Molly had been expecting when she heard the two of you had moved back.

“What is it?” Arthur’s attention was caught again as he moved to see what the commotion was about. When he saw the picture he only smiled, taking it to look at it a bit closer. “Is that -”

“Fred Weasley, are you really telling us we have a granddaughter you didn’t tell us about?” His mum had set one hand on the back of a chair with the other on her waist and suddenly he felt like he was a teenager getting scolded again. The action hadn’t stopped him from laughing then and it certainly didn’t stop him now. Not when he could see the excited look quickly breaking across her face.

“Surprise?” Before Fred knew it he was being pulled down into another embrace again. He supposed it was a good thing the three of them were the only ones in the kitchen given the flurry of questions his mum and dad alone asked him. “Evangeline Molly Weasley. Hope you don’t mind, mum.”

“Of course not,” Molly shook her head, reaching up to stop the happy tears from falling down her face.

“How old is she?” Arthur asked, looking at the picture once more with just as bright a grin.

“Three, almost four though. Her birthdays in two weeks so it’s perfect timing really,” Fred gave a shrug when they stared at him surprised. “Please don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t a secret on purpose, I promise.”

“You didn’t think to maybe mention the fact that you had a daughter in one of your letters?”

“I would’ve but I kept forgetting,” Fred quickly continued when the two of them started speaking over each other to scold him again. “We didn’t not tell anybody! George has come to see Evie loads of times now, I just assumed he’d tell you.”

“Don’t try to turn this on your brother,” Molly shook her head again and gave an almost exasperated sigh. “My first grandchild and you don’t even tell me. Didn’t even bring her over for a visit.”

“It’s great to see you too, mum,” He couldn’t help but instinctively duck out of the way and chuckle again when she swatted a dish towel at him. “That’s actually why I sent everyone else off to get the house ready. Evie wanted to go trick or treating and I figured what better place to bring her than here. She’s getting ready with Y/N now.”

Almost on cue there was a chorus of shouting as the door that led into the backyard opened. Fred flipped the picture of himself, you, and Evie upside down on the table, quietly muttering surprise when he saw the look his mum gave him again.

“Hang on, this list isn’t fair!” Ron shook his head as he took said list out of Harry’s hands. “Why do I have to be the elephant and he gets the lion?”

“Forget that,” Harry snatched the list back and pointed at a line scribbled near the bottom. “This says Charlie is supposed to be helping me hang up the decorations but he disappeared like twenty minutes ago. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to put up everything you brought with you?”

“Charlie had to go see a friend about creatures to borrow,” Fred answered easily before motioning towards Ron. “Tell him to help.”

“No! I’m supposed to be putting extension charms on the shed. Why don’t you make Ginny help all she’s doing is getting the bags of candy ready!”

“Excuse you,” Ginny popped her head through the window to glare at Ron. “Do you know how complicated he made this? It’s going to take me hours!”

“Hours won’t do,” Fred glanced at the clock on the wall, the one that actually told time, and frowned. He’d been gone for an hour now and he knew that Evie would start getting restless soon. “We have about two hours at most.”

“What!” Came shouted from all three of them at once before they started yelling over each other. To Fred’s delight though, Molly was the one who shushed them that time.

“That’s enough! Now all of you get to it.” Molly waited until the three of them had gone once more before taking the picture back and tucking it into her pocket. To Fred’s surprise she turned to smile at him, placing a hand on his cheek before moving to look at the list Ron and Harry had left behind. “Now let’s get this done. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can bring my granddaughter and Y/N over.”

There it was. Fred only laughed once more before agreeing and walking into the backyard beside the two of them.

*

Exactly two hours later Fred was walking up to the Burrow again. He spun around quickly to pick up Evie before she saw all the decorations that were now hung up all over the place. You understood the look he gave you right away and moved to block the rest of her line of sight.

Fred lifted her up with complete ease and smiled when he saw the pout on her face. “I need you to close your eyes for me until I say so alright, princess?”

“But -”

“No buts, sweetheart,” You interrupted when she tried turning her head. She gave you a heavy sigh before placing a hand over her eyes. “There you go. I promise you’re going to love your surprise.”

You could hear Ron and Harry before you saw them. Their voices rang across the front yard as they argued and it wasn’t until they noticed the three of you that they stopped. A laugh bubbled up from inside of you at the sight of their jaws dropping and eyes going wide.

To your amusement, they were too shocked to give anything away as Fred set Evie down and covered her ears, making sure her eyes were still closed. “Go get everyone else will you?”

“That’s a child.” Harry was the first one to break out of his trance, looking quickly between Evie, you, and Fred.

“Good eye.”

“Bloody hell, she is not yours.” Ron shook his head, a faint smile spreading across his face as he resisted the urge to walk towards the three of you.

Fred, meanwhile, grinned proudly and gave a firm nod. “She is indeed.”

“Mum! Dad!”

From inside the house you could hear Molly shouting at everyone to take their assigned places. Not thinking of anything else you gravitated towards the house that had become your own over the years with your excitement ready to spill over.

The moment Molly saw you she pulled you in for a tight hug, Arthur appearing in the doorway soon after and doing the same. They looked at you after briefly looking at Fred who’s now talking to Evie, still holding her so she couldn’t see the decorations yet. “We are so proud of the two of you.”

“Thank you,” You really couldn’t help the way your whole body relaxed along with the overwhelming feeling of finally being home again. Of course the last few years with Fred and Evie were amazing and you’d adored every moment. But being there at the Burrow again, with everybody else you held dear, was a feeling you always knew you missed. “Come and meet her.”

You pulled them along and Fred looked at the three of you, eyes sparkling with this look of pure happiness. He finally let go of Evie and she didn’t hesitate before shooting around to face you. Her head tipped to the side curiously before an excited smile broke across her face.

“I know them!” She shouted, looking up at Fred and then at you. Finally her eyes landed on Molly and Arthur and she jumped up and down a couple times. “That’s grandma and grandpa.”

“Sure is,” You smiled and held your hand out to her, one she took with ease. “Come say hi, sweetheart.”

Evie took to them immediately, happily answering every question they asked her and telling them everything she’d heard from you and Fred. She easily grabbed hold of both their hands as they led her towards the front door and pointing out all the decorations, ones Fred had made sure they knew she loved.

Bill was the one to answer the door when she finally knocked and he didn’t quite know what to say at first. He stuttered a bit as he glanced back at you and Fred before he shook his head and ducked down to Evie’s level with a surprised laugh.

“My costume sure makes a lot more sense now,” Bill looked down at the striped cut off shirt Fred had thrown at him earlier before smiling at the little girl he’d yet to meet. “And who might you be?”

“Evie.” She stood a little straighter, fixing her coat and the hat on top of her head, then smiled at him. “My daddy told me who you were already.”

“He did?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded eagerly, already having forgotten the bag in her hands. It’s wasn’t until Bill handed her a chocolate frog box that she even remembered she was there to trick or treat. He really couldn’t help but give in when she asked if he wanted to join them.

Evie, however, quickly left all of you behind when she saw little creatures she didn’t recognize flying over her head the moment she stepped into the backyard. Only moments later she caught sight of George and excitedly ran for him.

Charlie, who’d been standing beside him, stared for a moment as George picked her up so she could almost reach the little creatures. He was surprised when Evie then turned to him to ask about the tiny little dragon crawling across his shoulders, and took a second to process the fact that this little girl who already knew him was apparently his niece.

It was only when Fred walked over that he shook himself out of his trance and smiled, picking up the little dragon and letting it crawl across his hand and onto hers.

The same sort of scene followed everywhere they went. Evie knew each of them by name already and she didn’t hesitate to let them know. Each one of them had reacted similarly, conversing with Evie until she moved on to the next scene before moving towards you and Fred with surprise.

Though they each silently figured that they shouldn’t have been. The entire course of yours and Fred’s relationship had been filled with surprises and it only made sense that this would be your biggest one yet.

It was late by the time you finally made your way to Fred again after being pulled in every direction.

Golden hues surrounded the entire backyard as the sun started setting below the horizon. Everybody had long since surrounded Evie, more than happy to keep her entertained. At the moment she sat beside Arthur who was helping her carve one of the magically grown pumpkins they had picked together from the garden.

Meanwhile you and Fred were picking through her bag of sweets, silently hoping she wouldn’t notice how many you’d eaten already. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head on Fred’s shoulder, “Why did we wait so long to do this?”

“I really don’t know,” He answered as he rested his head on yours, taking one of your hands with his free one. “Did you miss all of this as much as I did?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hey,” There was only a brief moment of silence before Fred suddenly turned to you with a new idea and another smirk on his face. “What are the odds we can escape for a bit now that we’ve got people to watch her for us?”

“You really have a one track mind don’t you?” You shook your head, watching as he stood up and offered you his hand.

To Fred’s delight though, you took it. He glanced behind him to make sure everyone else was otherwise occupied before winking and pulling you inside the house. “Only for you my darling.”

#ahh again i have no idea what this ending is but here we are #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #dad!fred #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter fic #hp fanfic #hp fic #hp imagine #HP series #my fics #surprises

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

positive

warnings: pregnancy, anxiety

word count: 3.8k (look at me go 😃)

Your stomach clenched as you walked into the store, keeping your head down. You didn't want anyone to see you. They would probably know what you were here for just by looking at your face. 

You paused for a moment, wondering why you thought that would be so bad. You were an adult; a woman with a job and a house and a husband who loved you. There was nothing shameful about this. Worrying, yes. Terrifying, absolutely. But not shameful. 

Even so, you refused to look at anyone as you made your way to the aisle you needed. Once you got there, you finally looked up, staring at the rows and rows of pregnancy tests. 

You grabbed the closest one, wanting to get out of there as soon as you could. You brought it to the self check out, scanning it quickly and throwing it in a bag. You didn't release the breath you had been holding until it was safely hidden under the bag of chocolates you had also purchased. You had decided those were necessary, too. To manage your stress levels, obviously. 

Once you got back to your car, you took s few steadying breaths. 

Everything will be fine, you reminded yourself. Harry will be happy. He definitely wants kids. You’ve talked about this.. You know he will be happy. 

Knowing that still didn't help much. Your hands were shaking as you turned the key in the ignition, backing out of your spot and heading home. 

-----

This had been the longest two minutes of your life. You sat on the edge of the bathtub, shaking with nerves and forcing yourself to take deep breaths. The timer on your phone slowly ticked off the seconds until you could check the test. 45 seconds left. You stood, pacing in front of the sink.

30 seconds left. You braced your hands on the vanity, looking in the mirror. Were you really about to be a mother? 

15 seconds left. You counted silently along with the timer, getting more nervous with each passing moment. 

You stopped the timer on the first beep, taking one final steadying breath. You ran your hand through your hair, looking into the mirror again. You were a mess. Your eyes were red and watery, the mascara you had put on earlier smudged underneath. 

You reached for the stick on the counter with a shaky hand. Just as you picked it up, your phone rang. You jumped, gasping and nearly flinging it away from you. You looked at your phone, heart pounding when you saw Harry's face smiling up at you. It’s like he knows, you thought. You quickly shook that idea away.

You exhaled shakily, setting the test down without looking at it and answering the call. 

"Hi Harry," you said, sliding down to sit against the wall and pulling your knees to your chest.

"Hi love! How're you doing?" He smiled, leaning back against his dressing room wall. 

"I'm- I'm good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm just- I'm good."

  "Are you sure? You sound like something’s wrong," He said, cursing himself for not FaceTiming you. 

"No, I'm fine," you said. You almost laughed at how easily he could read you, even when he couldn't see you.

"Ok, if you're sure," he said, sounding hesitant. Immediately, his mind went into overdrive. What is she doing? Where is she? Why does she sound scared? Did something happen? Is- He was pulled out of his spiral when you spoke again.

  "I'm sure, H. What's going on, though? Don't you have to perform in ten minutes?" 

"I do, yeah, but I just really missed you," he said, sounding almost shy. "I haven't heard your voice in so long, just wanted to say hi." 

You smiled, resting your head against your legs. 

"It's so good to talk to you, I feel like it's been forever. I hate being so far away from you, in a whole different time zone. It's very stressful," you said, sighing. 

"I know, and I'm so sorry, but it's only for two more days- oh," He smacked his hand over his mouth, but the damage had already been done. She wasn't supposed to know about that, you idiot, he mentally yelled at himself. 

You sat up quickly, moving your phone away from your ear to check the date. You weren't crazy, it definitely read "Tuesday, March 8". 

"What do you mean two more days? I thought you weren't back until the 24th?" 

"Uh- oh boy, you weren't supposed to know- I wanted to surprise you. The shows got cut short. I wasn't going to tell you, I was just going to show up at the house and fall into your loving arms," he said, sighing dreamily. He smiled, already excited to see you for what felt like the first time in ages. 

"You- you're not- Harry!" You practically yelled into the phone. You were elated at knowing you would get to see him so soon, but your panic quickly took over. What if the test was positive? You had expected to have two more weeks to figure out how to tell him that he was going to be a father. 

"Wow, Y/N, I expected you to be happy!" he said, laughing. "Come on, you don't hate surprises that much. Plus, it's me," he said, shoulders slumping a bit. He kept his voice light and happy, but inside he was worried. Does she not want to see me? 

"No, of course I am!" you said quickly. "It's not- I just... I planned to-" You paused, searching your mind for a believable lie. "I was going to paint the bedroom, you know, redecorate. Then when you came home it would be totally finished, and it would be all cute and everything." 

"Well, this way I can help! It'll be fun, you know, a group project." He laughed, relaxing again. 

"Yeah, sounds good," you smiled. Knowing him, he would probably be sending you paint swatches and furniture ideas for the next two days. He might actually be disappointed when he got home and you had an entirely different conversation ready for him. 

"Two minutes, Harry!" you heard faint yelling in the background before Harry spoke again. 

"I'm sorry, I've gotta go, they're yelling at me. Call you after?" 

"Of course. Have fun, babe!" 

"Thanks. Bye!" 

Harry hung up, setting his phone on the dressing room vanity before he made his way to the door. Right before he stepped out, though, he had an idea. Spinning around, he quickly went back to his phone and pulled up his mom's contact. 

Harry: I'm going onstage soon, could you go check on Y/N? I think something's up but she won't say. Thanks, love you️❤️ 

"Harry, get out here!" Someone yelled again. 

"I'm coming!" He responded, quickly pressing send and putting his phone back down. 

-----

You finally found the courage to stand up again. You decided it was best to do this fast, like ripping off a bandaid. So you reached for the test, flipping it over before you could lose your nerve. 

Positive. It was definitely positive. You exhaled shakily, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. 

You weren't sure how long you sat before you heard a knock at the door. You flinched, deciding to just ignore it. It couldn't be that important. At least, not more important than the crisis you were currently having. 

The knocking didn’t stop, though, so you finally got up from the floor. As you made your way to the kitchen, you heard a gentle voice calling your name. Your head snapped up, red-rimmed eyes glancing through the window to see who it was. You nearly collapsed in relief when you saw your mother in law standing at the door. You quickly moved to open it, smiling apologetically at her.

“Anne, it’s good to see you, come in,” you said, holding the door open wider. “I’m sorry I took so long, I didn’t know you were coming by!”

She smiled back, stepping inside and pulling you into a hug. You leaned into her, eyes welling up as your emotions washed over you. She pulled back, looking worried.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Oh, don’t cry dear, come, sit and let’s talk.” She led you into the living room, sitting you on the couch next to her. “Harry sent me. He was worried about you, said he thought something was wrong. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Your eyes welled up again at how thoughtful harry was. He could tell you were upset, even over the phone. Even when you insisted everything was fine.

“It’s just...” you could barely speak through your tears. “I’m sorry, I’m- I don’t know how to say this, it’s-“

Anne looked at you encouragingly, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You took a deep breath. “I’m- I think I’m pregnant,” you whispered.

Anne’s eyes went wide for a second before she broke into a smile.

“Really? Oh, Y/N, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “But wait- you think? Did you take a test?”

“Yes, from the grocery store. But those aren’t always accurate, right?”

“I suppose, but... I don’t think those give false positives, almost ever. Y/N, are you- Are you not happy about this?”

“No, I am, I just- what will Harry say? He’s touring again soon, and there will almost certainly be more of that. What if he doesn’t want to put his entire career on hold? What if he’s not ready to have a baby? What if-“

“Y/N, slow down,” she said, pulling away to look at you. “Have you met the man? He loves children. He loves you. He loves you more than anyone else on this earth.”

“Besides you,” you added, chuckling. “And Gemma.”

“Honestly, I think that’s a three-way tie” she said, laughing. “Why don’t we get you a doctors appointment, confirm this.”

“Yeah, that’s probably smart,” you said. “Thank you so much, Anne. I was so scared,” you said, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“Of course, love! Anything for my daughter in law,” she said, hugging you again.

-----

Anne insisted on driving you to the appointment the next day, claiming she “wanted to be involved in every part of her possible grandchild’s life.” You had accepted reluctantly, not wanting to inconvenience her but secretly glad you weren’t alone.

Your leg bounced as you filled out the papers. You brought the completed forms to the desk, thanking the woman who told you the doctor would call you back soon. You settled back into your chair, checking your phone when it dinged.

Just like you had expected, Harry was sending you paint colors. He had sent about ten different shades of grey, then about twenty five different blues for “the accent wall”. You smiled at how excited he was. He was already great at domestic life, why should that be any different with a child?

-----

You texted Anne when the appointment was over, letting her know which door you were at. You got into the car, unable to contain your smile.

“Everything alright?” she looked at you expectantly.

“Yeah, I’m definitely pregnant,” you said, smiling. “Anne, you’re going to be a grandma.”

“Oh, congratulations! I’m so happy for you,” she said, leaning over the console to hug you. “Have you thought about how you’re going to tell Harry?”

“I actually do have an idea,” you said, pulling away to fasten your seatbelt. “Do you still have your Cricut?”

-----

You beamed as you held up the white onesie.

“Let’s see it, then!” Anne said excitedly.

You turned it around, revealing the large black Jersey font that read “STYLES 03”.

She was smiling as wide as you were. “That’s just precious, he’s going to love it,” she declared.

“Yeah?” You asked, grinning.

“Absolutely.”

Just then, your phone rang.

“Speak of the devil,” you said when you saw Harry’s face. You picked up the call, putting him on speakerphone so you could finish your project. “Hi Harry! Sorry I didn’t get to call you again yesterday, how was your show?”

“It was great, love, it went really well. How are you? Feeling better?”

“Yes, much. Thanks for sending your Anne to check on me, that was very sweet of you.”

“Yeah, of course! I’m glad she could be there, even though I couldn’t,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Don’t make yourself upset, Harry, I’m always here for Y/N!” Anne said from across the table.

“Oh hi mum! Didn’t know you were there too. What have you two been up to?”

“Um...” you looked at Anne desperately, not sure what to tell him.

“Just been looking through some furniture, love,” Anne jumped in. You smiled at her gratefully.

“Oh, about that! I was thinking we should get one of those benches, you know, the ones that go at the end of the bed? I think they just add a nice little accent to the room. What do you think?”

“Sure, Harry, we can find one of those,” you said, smiling. Just then, you heard a strange grinding noise. You looked down to see the Cricut attempting to eat the vinyl you had been printing out. Your eyes went wide, trying to get Anne’s attention without alerting Harry. She yelped when she saw what you were pointing at.

“What happened?” Harry asked quickly.

“Uh, nothing, we just... found a really nice rug. I gotta go, Harry, talk later!”

You quickly hung up, trying to suppress your laughter as Anne fought with the machine.

“Stop that, you stubborn thing!” She said, pulling the paper out. “That’s quite enough out of you,” she said sternly, pressing the off button when the machine beeped at her.

Once everything was settled, Anne picked up the onesie again, smiling at the letters.

“Y/N, you really don’t have to worry. He’s going to be elated, truly.”

“I know, it’s just... a little scary,” you said, laughing nervously.

“Sure it is, this is a big thing! But remember that it’s a good thing, and it’s something you both want very much. And of course, so do I.”

“Right, of course,” you laughed. “Do you have a gift bag? I want to wrap that so it’s ready to give to Harry as soon as I can.”

-----

Your stomach had been fluttering since you got the text from Harry. The text. The one that read “just touched down! I’ll be home in two hours ️”. The text that meant you were about to tell him something that would change his life forever.

You were pacing in the living room, unsure of what else to do. You had tried to read a book, but that was useless. You found yourself reading the same sentence over and over with absolutely no comprehension. Then you tried making some pasta for Harry, since you knew it was his favorite and that he would be hungry. This didn’t go so well, though. You were so nervous and shaky that you almost splashed boiling water all over yourself. You decided it wasn’t wise to horribly injure yourself, so you moved on from that. You even tried watching Grey’s Anatomy, which had never failed to distract you before. Even so, you found yourself unable to relax. All you could think about was Harry. What would he say? What would his face look like when he saw the onesie? Would he get it, or would you have to outright tell him you were going to have his child?

You decided to listen to “Kiwi” to get yourself ready to say “I’m having your baby” in case he needed extra help understanding.

At this point, you were basically just watching the clock. You were sure the seconds had never been so long, even when you were waiting for the results of the test.

Finally, you gave up on trying to get your mind off the topic and decided to dive headfirst into it. You made your way upstairs to the room closest to you and Harry’s.

This will be the nursery, you thought with a smile.

You began to map everything out in your mind, from where the crib and dresser would go to what color the blinds would be. You quickly opened Pinterest, very creatively searching “cute nurseries”. You immediately made a new board, flooding your screen with images of play pens and rugs and wall stickers and rocking chairs and everything else you could possibly need.

The time passed faster than you had expected, and the next time you looked up it was 4:52. Knowing he would be home in less than 10 minutes started a whole new rush of nerves in you, and your heart started pounding again.

You went back to the living room, grabbing the little gift bag before going into the kitchen. You adjusted the tissue paper, making the onesie was completely concealed before you put the bag on the counter near the door. You leaned back against the sink, checking your phone again. Your heart jumped when the time changed to 5:00, knowing he would be home any second now. He always managed to get home exactly when he said he would, usually not even off by a minute.

By 5:01, your heart was absolutely pounding out of your chest. Your hands were shaking, so you gripped your phone tighter to steady them. You thought about going into the living room so you could sit, but then your thoughts were interrupted. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the sound. A car door slamming.

You could barely breathe from the anticipation as you heard his heavy footsteps on the porch; his key clicking in the lock. You rushed forward to let him in, but he had already flung the door open.

He dropped his bags, not paying the slightest attention to where they landed. He didn’t hesitate for even a second before he surged forward, pulling you against him.

“I missed you so much,” he said, breathing heavily. “I would have died if I had to go one more day without seeing you.”

“H... I can’t breathe,” you said, your face squished against his chest. He laughed, loosening his grip just enough for you to fully inhale.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so happy to see you,” he said, pressing his face to the top of your head. “I’m never going on tour without you again, I was so lonely.”

You smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“I’d be ok if you took me with you next time,” you said, wrapping your arms tighter around him.

You stood there in his arms for a few more minutes, just listening to his heart beating. He swayed you gently, breathing in the sweet smell of your conditioner. Finally, he lifted his head.

“So, tell me everything!”

“Everything about...?” You said, looking up at him quizzically.

“The decorating! Did you and my mum buy any good stuff? I’m ready to go, I’ve been thinking about this for the past two days.”

You felt your face heating up as he looked at you. You felt kind of bad that your lie had gotten this far. He was practically ready to redo the entire house, thinking that’s what you wanted.

“Uh... why don’t we go to the living room?”

“Sure,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to lead you.

"Wait!" you said, pulling back. You reached behind him, picking up the gift bag. Then you smiled, allowing him to lead you to the couch.

Once you were both settled, he turned toward you expectantly. You took a deep breath, knowing everything was about to change.

“Ok... I’m really sorry, but I lied to you,” you said, avoiding his eyes. “There was no redecoration, there was no painting, there was no rug.”

“I- why? What were you doing that you couldn’t tell me about?” He asked, looked confused and a little bit hurt.

“No- it’s not... I wasn’t-”

“Why was my mom here, then?”

“Harry, just let me-”

“Why did you- was there-”

You could tell he was spiraling, and that he was probably imagining some pretty bad things. You couldn’t really blame him, though. You had been acting weird and secretive and now you straight up told him you had been lying. You knew this looked bad.

You quickly placed your hand on his knee, trying to ground him.

“Harry, will you let me talk, please?” You asked gently, looking in his eyes.

“Yeah, of course, I’m sorry,” he said, placing his hand over yours.

“Ok, here goes,” you said, blowing out a breath. “When you called me two days ago, the day you told me you were coming home early, you were right. Something was wrong. Well, not wrong exactly, just... scary,” you said, trying to collect your thoughts. And then when you called yesterday, when your mom was here, we weren’t looking at rugs. We were... crafting.”

“Crafting?” He said, looking confused. “Crafting what?”

“Well, it was... actually, why don’t you see for yourself?” You said holding up the gift bag.

He felt how shaky your hand was against his leg, and he looked at you with concern.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“Just... just open it, I’m fine,” you managed to get out.

He pulled away the tissue paper, looking very nervous. He lifted the tiny garment out, holding it up in confusion.

“What’s...” he trailed off as you motioned for him to turn it around. When he did, you were met with the big letters telling him there would soon be a third member of the Styles family. You quickly looked at his face, trying to decipher his thoughts.

He lowered the onesie, turning slowly toward you.

“It’s... you’re... really?” He said, a slow grin spreading across his features.

You nearly fell back against the couch in relief as you nodded.

“We’re... really?” He asked again, seemingly in disbelief.

“Yes, really,” you said, smiling.

“You’re- we’re having a baby?”

“Yes,” you repeated. “We’re having a baby.”

You barely got the chance to take a breath before he jumped on you, pushing you down on the couch and kissing you. When he pulled back, he didn’t go far. He leaned his forehead against yours, smiling from ear to ear.

“We’re having a baby,” he whispered.

“We are,” you said, grinning.

“Wait,” he said, pushing himself up. He took your hand, pulling you up with him. “Does this mean we don’t get to redecorate? Because, honestly, I was getting really excited about that, I picked out some really good colors-”

You laughed, pressing your face against his chest.

“We can do whatever you want, we just have an extra room to think about now.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “The room where our little jellybean is going to live.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #fluff #fluffy #pregnancy #dad!harry

[kining-the-evil]

Coming out

Ransom Drysdale x daughter!reader lesbian!reader

Summary: Jacob finds out your gay, and decides to spill it to the whole family at dinner.

Warning ⚠️: Please be aware that this contains forced coming out, and the use of the F slur. I monetize it, and blurb the word so it’s not technically there but it’s obvious what the word was. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU PLEASE DONT READ!!!

———————————————————————

"How about we go to an early diner, then the 5 o'clock showing?" Lily offered. I was laying on my bed while on the phone.

"That should work, you know I'm always free."

"Will your dad know where you are?" She asked making me role my eyes.

"I'll tell him I'm meeting some friends." My dad was hardly ever home with me anyways.

"You know at some point you will have to tell him right?" She asked making me sigh. I could not for the life of me figure out how he would react if I came out to him. He was an asshole, and certain parts of the family definitely would not support, but at the same time we hardly ever stuck around for the political argument.

"I will, but I've told you about my family. I just want to wait until I have a backup plan. We graduate in a year anyways. Then I'll take you far far away and treat you like a queen." I explained, thinking about what our life could be after high school.

"You already treat me like one." She chuckled. "And you know I will support you with whenever you decide to."

"I'm gonna go let my dad know I'm leaving then I'll be over to pick you up. Sound good?" She hummed in agreement and we both said goodbye before hanging up. I pulled some shoes on, and made sure I looked presentable before heading downstairs. I could hear my dad moving around in the kitchen as I pulled in a light sweater.

"Dad, I'm hanging out with some friends tonight." I called out walking towards the door.

"No your not!" He called back making me freeze. I turned around to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against it.

"Why?"

"Family dinner tonight." He explained making me role my eyes.

"Do I really have to go? The only people I talk to are you and great grandpa, and I see you both all the time."

"Don't be dramatic. I'm sure you talk to the rest of them." He said rolling his eyes.

"Oh really? Grandma and grandpa barely tolerate me, Donna, Walt, and Jacob hate me, Joni does that weird mix of trying to be a mother figure and guilt tripping me, and Meg hates me for the simple fact of being your daughter. The only other person who's sort of ok is Marta, but she doesn't work tonight." I counted each person on my fingers as I spoke making him chuckle and shake his head.

"You know there will be a fight and we will leave early, and nothing is happening tomorrow. Just go out with your friends after diner." He explained, waving his hand as though say that's the end of it.

I sighed but pulled my phone out send a text to Lily letting her know what happened. She agreed to meet me latter tonight, saying that there is a latter showing of the movie we want to see.

———————

"The favorite great grandchild is here!" I called out as we walked into the house. I could hear a few groans from the other room, and as I pulled my jacket off some walked over to greet us.

"Nice to see you Ransom." My great grandfather said greeting my dad. "And hello dear!" He said walking over to me, giving me a side hug. "We gonna play a game of Go later?"

"Only if you want to be beat old man."

"Oh! We will see about that!" He said chuckling as we made our way towards the main room. I could hear people arguing, so my dad must be in there already.

No one paid me any attention as I sat down next to my dad. Meg was practically screaming at my dad while he just sat there smirking.

"Meg, please sit down, Ransom, do you really need to start this already?" My grandmother finally said, trying to calm everyone.

"I didn't do anything! Just sat down." My dad claimed throwing his arms up. I chuckled at all the commotion, knowing damn well that my dad had said something to piss Meg off.

"What are you laughing at f&$#*" I felt everyone in the room freeze when they heard that. I turned my head slowly to the side to see Jacob looking up at me.

"W-what?" I whispered, still in shock of what happened.

"You heard exactly what is said. I asked what you were laughing at f&$#*" He stated.

"Jacob what the hell?!" Meg asked, all her anger from a moment pointed at him now.

"What?! It's true, I saw her kissing some girl at the park the other day."

"Come on." My dad mumbled grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet.

"Ransom just wait a moment, give Jacob a chance to explain himself. I'm sure-"

"Walt, if I 'give him a mom to explain himself' I will end up punching a child." He snapped turning to look at Walt.

"I mean, give him the benefit of the doubt. She shouldn't hide stuff like that, and F&$-"

"If you say, that GOD DAMN WORD ABOUT MY DAUGHTER AGAIN YOU WILL REGRET IT!" He yelled stepping closer to Walt. "And wether she's gay or not, it's non of your fucking business. She's 17, almost an adult, and can make her own decisions. Also, if she likes girls, I get it. I like pussy to. Now we are gonna leave, and if I find out you, your wife, or your son try to contact her, you will be sorry." He took a step away from Walt so he could look at the rest of them. "If any of you contact her before she's ready, you will be sorry."

Once he was done he stormed off towards the door and I followed behind. He only stoped to let me put my jacket on, and as I did my great grandfather squeezed my shoulder a bit. "Have a good night dear." He whispered before going back to the rest of the family.

The car ride home was silent, and I had chosen to sit in the back so I wouldn't have to look my dad in the face. His hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel, and he was driving significantly over the speed limit. Once him he didn't say a word to me or wait for me before heading inside. I stayed in the car for a moment, laying my head on the seat in front of me. Why, out of everyone did it have to be Jacob who saw me with Lily?

After almost 10 minutes I made my way into the house. Sad was sitting on the couch, and I tried to sneak past him but he heard me anyways. "Y/n, come here please." He said the moment my foot touched one of the stairs.

Silently I made my way over to the couch, and sat down. Nether of us spoke for a few moments.

"Was Jacob telling the truth?" He asked finally looking over at me. I felt like I was going to die right then and there, I didn't want to tell him, but I couldn't lie at this point ether.

"Ya, he was." I whispered.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yep,"

"That's who you've been hanging out with?"

"Ya."

"How long have you known?"

"I don't know." I sighed, getting a bit irritated. “Some time in middle school maybe.” He was silent for a few minutes, witch just caused my anxiety to worsen.

“You know I cried when I first held you.” I looked over at him surprised, I had never seen him cry. “I was 16 and Terrified, your mother planed to move away within days after you were born. I was so scared I wouldn’t be a good dad, that I would fuck you up. But t he moment I held you in my arms I knew i loved more then every member of our fucked up family combined.” He pauses for a second, reaching up to wipe away the tear that had somehow escaped.

“I’m sorry that Jacob did that. I plan to try and talk with Walt and Donna, he had no right to act like that.”

“Don’t, you know it will only lead to more drama.” I said. “So your not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not, that was your choice on when that was supposed to come out.” He explained, wrapping an arm around me. “Now, was that friend you were going to hang out with the girl?”

I smiled a bit, glad to know he really didn’t seem to care. “Ya, we were gonna see a movie.”

“Your welcome to go now, I’m sure being with her is a bit more relaxing then being with me.” He smiled a bit before standing up. My dad was almost never soft like that, and decided to do my best to remember that smile.

“Thank you so much.” I said, a real smile on my face.

“You’ll have to bring her around some time. Don’t think she won’t still get the talk like with any boys you would have brought home. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lily.” I said pulling my phone out to send her a quick message.

“Wait your friend lily? The one that you stay over at her house all the time?”

“I’ve got to go dad, I’ll let you know when I’m home.” I said running out the door. I could here him telling for me but I just chuckled as I drove away. I guess I won’t be having anymore ‘sleep overs’ with Lily.

#fanfic #knives out #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom Drysdale x daughter!reader #Gay daughter #lesbian reader #fluff #angst

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Part 1 - Vikings: Una Flor

Summary: When someone returns from a journey, one would expect for them to return with trinkets and gifts from the journey. Apparently, Ragnar didn’t get the message and instead returned with a foreign flower his family wasn’t expecting.

Pairings: Ragnar x reader (platonic), Ragnarssons x reader (romantic)  

A/N: I would love to know what y’all thought of the first part to this new series. It will definitely be a little different from my previous work, but I’m excited to share it. 

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

All waited anxiously for the arrival of the men that after several months, had returned with whatever treasures they had taken from the raids. Amongst those in the crowd the sons of Ragnar; Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar along with Queen Aslaug waited patiently for the man to dock ship. It did not take long for the men aboard the ship to make their way to their loved ones amidst the cheers of celebration of another successful plunder.

The royal family were pleased to spot Ragnar as he made his way to his family, a proud and accomplished look to his face. He greeted his family with a jovial wave, walking toward them with his cloak loosely wrapped around his shoulders. 

His family greeted him with various forms of Welcome back, and Ragnar looked to Ivar, as the boy stared at his father with a furrowed brow.

“Is there someone underneath your cloak?” Ivar asked in bewilderment.

Ragnar chuckled as he pulled away his arm from himself and the cloak opened to reveal a younger woman nestled beside him, drawn close to him against the bitter cold as her own cloak was wrapped over her to hide most of her from sight.

“Come my sweet (Y/N), introduce yourself” he said.

Hesitantly, she pulled away the hood of her cloak and revealed her youthful features to Ragnar’s family as she nervously looked at them. She fidgeted where she stood, shivering from the cold and tightly holding onto her own cloak to stay warm.

“Tu familia?” she asked timidly, turning to him in confusion.

At his nod, her eyes widened in glee as she smiled widely and turned to them, leaving his side as she reached his son’s. Without another word, she grabbed Bjorn’s hands and kissed him on both cheeks.

“Un placer” she whispered in embarrassment as her cheeks reddened, reaching toward Ubbe and doing the same to all the brothers who merely watched her in fascination. After greeting them, she stood before Queen Aslaug and smiled despite not receiving one in turn. Taking the Queen’s hand in her own as she kneeled and pressed the back of the Queen’s hand to her forehead. 

Afterward with a nervous giggle, she returned to Ragnar’s side as she wrapped her arms around his waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek in pride.

“This is (Y/N), a girl I paid for in a place known as Iberia and I have brought her to be a bride” he said.

His son’s and wife bristled in anger but before they could protest, he said “So boys which one of you would be willing to make her your wife?”                                   ----------------------------

Seated at the head table, (Y/N) was placed between Sigurd and Ivar as she stared wide eyed at the abundance of food lain before her very eyes. Seeing her apprehension, Sigurd placed a few things on her plate as she stared at him with her eyes glittering in excitement. Queen Aslaug watched the interactions of her son and the young girl that was apparently “bought” and turned to her husband.

“How is it that you came to find this girl?” she asked taking sips of her mead.

“We were caught in a massive storm that veered us greatly off course, it lasted for several days and it seemed that we would never see it calming at last the rains calmed and the wind had blown us to a coastal village” he said. “The locals were kind and many offered their homes as we intended on fixing many of the damages our boats had received. Floki and I were brought to the home of the richest man but also the most miserly.”

“Why would you say that?” Bjorn asked, having been listening in to his father.

“The man had eight children and whenever he set any of them out to trade or buy, he had each of them line up and have them mention the price and many other things to him before making sure they hadn’t spent more than what he thought necessary. The poor girl was treated worse than her brothers, the majority of my stay I had the assumption she was his slave with all that he expected of her.”

“Is that how you bought the girl?” asked Hvitserk. “Thinking she was the slave?”

“Oh no, I had stumbled into her room as she was changing and her brothers were quick to go to their old man. From what little I understood of their language, they claimed I had shamed them and needed to pay for her and take her with me. In his fit of rage, the man grabbed her long hair and cut it off at the ears as punishment apparently.”

All looked to the girl that was happily munching away at her food with stuffed cheeks, stopping mid-chew when she felt their stares. Sheepishly she swallowed and timidly smiled when she looked to them. As previously mentioned by Ragnar, (Y/N) had her (h/c) hair messily cut and near her jaw.

“Of course, in the time that she has been with us, her hair has grown some but it was much shorter. But I argued for some time with the man that I hadn’t shamed them, but eventually I agreed to take the girl and during the trip came to care for her as a daughter. It is on the voyage with some difficulty she told me about herself, and she revealed that her mother was a princess to a tribe of warriors that was kidnapped. I figured that she could be a wife for one you boys and provide an alliance of this group if one of you can somehow catch her eye and find the location of these warriors.” 

The boys scoffed, they assumed it would be a simple task as (Y/N) seemed to be naïve to the advances of men and could be swayed to like them, but their interest was certainly peaked that she was a grandchild to a group of warriors. 

With a smirk, Ragnar took a sip from his chalice.

“One more thing, (Y/N) is still learning our language. She understands some phrases and can say some things, but she is at a lost for the most part” he chuckled. “I will give you all an introduction and leave it to all of you.” 

A sharp whistle and (Y/N) quickly got out of her seat to stand beside Ragnar. He cleared his throat and spoke thickly, “Te presento a mi familia. As visto a mi esposa Aslaug.” (I present to you my family, you have seen my wife Aslaug)

“Ella es muy bella” (Y/N) said sweetly. (She is very beautiful)

Ragnar then pointed to Bjorn, “El es mi hijo mayor Bjorn. El es un gran guerrero.” (This is my eldest son Bjorn, he is a great warrior)

She stuck closer to Ragnar,“No me sorprende con su estatura.” (It doesn’t surprise me with his stature)

“Este es mi hijo Ubbe, un hombre sabio” (This is my son Ubbe, a wise man)

“El parece mucho como usted Ragnar” (He looks a lot like you Ragnar)

“A lado de el esta mi otro hijo, Hvitserk. A el le encanta mucho la comida.” (Beside him is my other son, Hvitserk. He loves food a lot)

“Oh! Seguramente el le gustaría platillos de mi pueblo.” (Oh! Surely he will like the dishes of my village)

“Del lado tuyo es mi hijo Sigurd, el sabe como tocar el oud” (Beside you is my son Sigurd, he knows how to play the oud.)

“Me encantaría escuchar cuando el toca” (I would love to hear when he plays)

“Y finalmente este es mi hijo Ivar un muchacho listo.” (And finally is my son Ivar, a clever boy)

“Ivar?”she gasped in excitement and realization. “El es como mi hermano Ivan.” (He is like my brother Ivan)

“My name is Ivar, not Ivan” the boy scoffed as he took a drink from his cup.

She scrunched her face in annoyance, clearly trying to find the right words to explain what she was trying to say and called out to Floki. The man in question looked to the girl as she pointed to Ivar in frustration.

Once again she said, “Ivan.”

The man giggled and sat beside Ivar.

“She knows your name Ivar” Floki laughed, “But she has a younger brother whose name is Ivan.”

“Well what does that boy have to do with her saying his name when she sees me?” Ivar asked.

“Because Ivan happens to be exactly like you Ivar, a little boy with broken legs. Only difference between you two is that Ivan has a sunny disposition” Floki giggled.  

“Well would you look at that Ivar, she only sees you as nothing but another little boy that should be pitied” Sigurd sneered. “Looks like we can count you out.”

Ivar scowled at his brother but said nothing. 

“No entiendo, que están diciendo Floki?” (I don’t understand, what are they saying Floki?)

“No te preocupes, solo son tonterías de muchachos” Floki said. (Don’t worry it is merely boyish foolishness)

She turned to Sigurd and Hvitserk, gesturing with her hands “You play and you dance, yes?”

“Are you asking if I can play?” Sigurd asked. 

Instantly the girls face lit up as she nodded excitedly, once again gesturing him playing on the oud. Taken by her sweet nature, Sigurd stood to play his oud as she had requested and instantly (Y/N) stood up from her seat taking Hvitserk by the hand to dance. In comparison to her light and quick steps, Hvitserk stumbled to keep up with her as she danced in a way that none of the Ragnarssons had seen before. She was not shy to fix Hvitserk’s movements and laughing when he would stumble, not out of mockery but in excitement that he was learning.

“I am going to cut in and see if I can do better, I’m sure that the dance isn’t as hard as Hvitserk makes it out to be” Ubbe said as he took his younger brother’s place.  

Both Bjorn and Ivar looked on at their brothers make fools of themselves as they struggled to figure out the quick steps of the girls dance, attempting with the little she knew of their language and gestures as to how they would communicate with each other.

“You don’t truly think one of us will marry the girl, do you father?” Bjorn asked seriously.

“I fully expect it Bjorn, it doesn’t matter who wins her heart but I intend for that girl to marry into our family even if it means forcing one of you” Ragnar said taking a long drink from his cup. “None of you might realize it yet, but that girl is more special than any of you know.”

With that, Ragnar said no more and Ivar was staring intently at the girl wondering what could be so special about this foreign flower that his father would want one of them to marry her.  

Tag List (Open) 

@heavenly1927, @princesscornbread, @fairyofvoid

@ivarthebloodyking, @shit-i-say-shit-i-think

@youbloodymadgenius, @youbleed-justtoknow-yourealive, 

@leahh19​, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ 

(If I forgot to tag you or you would like to be tagged, please let me know)

#vikings fanfic #vikings x reader #ragnar x reader #ragnarssons x reader #bjorn x reader #ubbe x reader #hvitserk x reader #sigurd x reader #sigurd snake in the eye x reader #ivar x reader #x reader #x reader insert #una flor #una flor series

[lilyharvord]

If you get the chance can you write a short fanfic about mare having baby fever? LOL the idea just popped in my head of like all her friends having kids and baby clara making it extreme and at first shes all like no kids and suddenly is like to cal gimme like 10, and ofc hes happy to do so :)

I love conflicted Mare. :))))

Baby Fever Drabble

“He’s gorgeous Lou.” Ruth announced as she held her fifth grandchild, and bounced him until he cooed and then gurgled. Turning to face the window so the light shone down on the massive blanket she was cradling, Ruth glanced him over again. The room was mostly empty, a majority of the cousins had been shuttled out to the little café downstairs to grab breakfast, and the rest of Mare’s family had gone with them. It was just her, Tramy, Lou, their daughter Elowyn, Bree’s eldest son Wes, Clara, Farley, and Ruth. It was nice though, the room had been so loud a couple minutes ago. Silence was precious by this point.

Glancing over her shoulder, Ruth grinned at her daughter. “Mare have you held him yet?”

Glancing up from listening to Wes as he chattered her ear off about the frogs he’d caught over the weekend with Kilorn, Mare shook her head. Next to her, Clara was napping in Farley’s lap after trying to stay awake all night waiting for her cousin to arrive, and stirred before sighing and settling again.

Before Mare could protest Ruth had already slipped the baby into her arms. “Oh, um, I—” He was heavy and Mare had to stifle a grimace as she imagined how much Lou’s back must have hurt the entire pregnancy. She seemed pretty content now though, and Tramy looked more like a bird puffing out it’s chest, as if he did anything for the past nine months. Their daughter Elowyn was napping in his arms exhausted just like Clara. How had her family gotten so big in the past few years? It seemed like the number of nieces and nephews had multiplied exponentially when she turned her back for a day. First Bree and Tora had Wes, and then Elowyn came along, and then Bree and Tora had announced the twins, and now there was this new baby. Even Sara and Julian had one of their own, a toddler now who stared at her like Julian used to over his desk. Everytime she turned around there was a new baby, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt an… itch.

Because that was really all it was for a bit, just an itch. She scratched it by watch Wes and Elowyn, and babysitting Clara for a day. But after the twins and this baby, that itch was like a crawling wave all over her body. It drove her insane that she was thinking about it all the time. She’d think about it for hours while lying in bed, just watching Cal sleep. She’d think about it while making coffee, and while she showered and while she trained. She had started noting any new baby at the little market near her apartment every time she went. And a week ago, she’d almost not taken that little white pill that ensured everything stayed exactly as it was. When she had done that, she realized there might be a problem.

Her nephew yawned, stretching tiny pink lips into a perfect circle before closing his eyes. Ruth had been right, he was gorgeous. With little tufts of bronze hair, and delicate cheek bones that no baby really needed. Honestly, it was surprising Lou had let anyone else hold him. If this was her baby, Mare wouldn’t have let anyone near him. Her baby would be a lot prettier, she decided right then and there. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t planning on having a baby… ever. Mare Barrow was not built to be a mother. She was a wonderful aunt, because she could give the baby back whenever she needed to, and she could leave for the front whenever she was called for like she had to do. A baby did not fit into that mix.

But a baby that was half her and half Cal? She’d been thinking about it again yesterday while Cal was leaned over the sink shaving. It would be a boy, she decided that while he ran the razor over his jaw. He’d have Cal’s height, and build, and maybe a few of his other features. Those amber eyes wouldn’t hurt, and that smile? Well, maybe not the smile. That smile is what made her fall in love with Cal, and she could not deal with a string of broken hearts trailing her son around. Because without a doubt he would have her track record in that department. He’d have a face that was impossible to say no to, and a laugh that made her world a little bit brighter every time he let it loose. She’d name him Shade. It had been something itching at the back of her mind ever since her brothers had decided not to name any of their sons that.

“Now that is a sight.” Farley teased, making Mare startle and wake the baby in her arms.

Glaring at her friend, who smirked in response, Mare grumbled. “What’s a sight?”

“That face tells me you’re weighing the consequences and options.” Farley at least had the decency to drop her voice when she said that. It still brought all the blood to Mare’s cheeks at the insinuation, and the fact that she had been so obviously caught. She recovered quick enough that she wasn’t completely embarrassed though.

“What consequences and options?”

“Nine months doesn’t seem too long anymore does it, Mare?” Farley shrugged as she shifted Clara and went to rise from the plastic couch they’d occupied for the better part of three hours. “And besides,” bending down so her next words were for Mare only, Farley tilted her head in mock consideration, “Making it will probably be the fun part for you.”

If she didn’t need both hands to hold a baby, she would have actually slapped Farley for that. Mare’s neck joined her cheeks in burning bright red, and she tried to shrink away from that searching smile.

“You were thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Mare grumbled before getting up as well, forcing Farley back a step so they didn’t smack foreheads. She stole across the room and deposited Tramy’s son in Lou’s arms, before trying to slip out of the room at the same speed. But Farley knew her too well, and Mare cursed her short legs once more when Farley’s strides caught up with hers.

“Just admit it, you have baby fever.” Farely teased as she shifted Clara to a better hold so she could nudge Mare’s shoulder. Not expecting the push, Mare stumbled to the side, and glared as Farley laughed.

Crossing her arms and standing her ground, she looked Farley up and down. The general was still beautiful, and would remain that way for the rest of her life probably. Even balancing a child on her hip, she was imposing. Mare twisted her lip at the thought. With a baby on her hip, Mare knew she would be far less terrifying.

“I don’t have baby fever because I don’t want kids.”

“For someone who doesn’t want them, you spend an awful lot of time staring wistfully at your husband while he plays with them.” Farley raised a brow, and smothered another smile which only made Mare raise her chin in argument. Even if she was right, she didn’t have to state that out loud within earshot of anyone.

“I don’t stare wistfully.” She argued, the words clipped and sharp. Like Farley, she had her own military tone now. It normally refuted any argument before it could begin, but Diana Farley had never been afraid of her. And that was not going to change with a few sharp words.

Rolling her eyes with a mocking nod, Farley turned on her heel to continue down the hallway. “Of course Mare.”

“I don’t!” Mare shouted at her back, drawing the attention of a nurse at one of the stations. Glaring in the woman’s direction, Mare stomped after Farley. It was pointless to refute whatever thought her friend had, because she wasn’t wrong. Mare just refused to admit it. She did sometimes catch herself sitting on her parent’s back porch watching Cal play with the horde of cousins. He never got tired of it, and the way he laughed when he was with them sometimes bit at her heart. They all adored him, and followed him around as much as the young Ardents had at the Notch. She knew he’d caught her watching a few times, and had given her a knowing, bittersweet smile she never returned.

And sure they’d… talked about things like that. But never seriously. It was always after one too many glasses of wine when they were sprawled out of the couch half-dressed and teasing. Fantasizing about kids was fine then, because they still didn’t physically exist. And Cal had never made an overt moves or comments to tell her that he wanted to have kids right this second. What if she was the only one feeling the itch this strongly and he shot down her idea? He was just as practical, if not more than her sometimes. They both knew the truth and the risk of having a child far outweighed the idea of having it. There were too many variables they couldn’t control, too many horrible outcomes that they’d face. It was better to just fantasize.

“It’s too dangerous.” Mare spoke quietly, and even though she thought her friend wasn’t listening, it got Farley’s attention.

Pausing so Mare could catch up, Farley raised her brow again. “What isn’t dangerous in this life Barrow?”

“This would be even more so. The Silver Secession has not let up, and with the State still in a precarious position—”

“The States will always be in a precarious position. It’s the nature of that mess of a country.” Farley argued with a huff. She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t change the fact that Cal was always going to be running back and forth to uphold his duties as a general.

Pursing her lips in irritation, Mare glanced to the side to avoid Farley’s stare. No matter how many times she faced it, it still cut her to the core. Those diamond hard eyes were too perceptive, and they always found the truth, even when Mare buried it deep.

“I think there is something else keeping you. You’ve never been worried about the Secession and you’ve never been worried about Cal and the States.” Farley tilted her head to the side before shifting Clara again. The young girl blinked awake, honey eyes still dreamy as she looked at her mother and then at Mare. “But you’re obviously not ready to talk about it.”

Shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Mare fidgeted with her ring. She knew there was a truth, a deep one she didn’t want to admit. A fear that ran deeper than the pestering Silver Secession and the nagging worry when Cal was gone in the States. It had haunted her for her whole life, and it would probably continue to do so.

“When you want to talk about it,” Farley whispered, her voice slipping into that gentle tone she so rarely used, “I am all ears Barrow.”

Mare considered it for half a second and opened her mouth to say something, only for the doors to burst open next to them and the twins to race by her, shouting like banshees. Clara perked up immediately, and squirmed until Farley sighed and set her down to race after the rest of the cousins. They all skidded around the corner together, pushing and giggling as they went. Craning her neck to make sure they went the right way, Farley sighed before turning back to Mare with an expectant eye.

Bree’s shoved his way between them though, grinning down at Mare and saying, “Pardon me, didn’t see you there.”

“Very funny. The short jokes died when we were ten, Bree.” Mare let a few sparks snap at his elbow as he tried to avoid her. Yelping at the sensation, he rubbed the spot and glowered like a child at her.

“Glad I’m not the only who gets that punishment.” Cal’s warmth always proceeded him, and this time was no different. Sliding an arm around Mare’s shoulders he pulled her close. “Is Lou finally sleeping?”

Pushing Bree along when he tried to linger, Farley responded for her. “Doubtful. The baby will want to eat, and then he’ll have to be passed around like a sack of potatoes for a little bit longer before she can sleep.”

“Sounds miserable.” Cal’s hand slid along her shoulders until his fingers brushed along Mare’s neck, tracing scars that he knew like a roadmap. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and brought goosebumps to the surface. Glancing up, she considered him for a heartbeat. Maybe he hadn’t been joking when he told her she’d look lovely pregnant, when she’d insisted she wouldn’t. Maybe he had been serious when he said they should consider moving to the same neighborhood as Bree and Tora. Maybe he had been feeling this insatiable itch just as long as her.

When she finally dragged her eyes away from his profile, it was to see Farley struggling to hide a smirk. Even though it was completely childish, Mare stuck her tongue out at her bitterly.

“I obviously missed whatever just happened.” Cal’s hand slid away from her, but not before Mare caught it and laced her fingers with his.

“Farley’s being annoying, which is why we’re leaving.” Mare announced before pulling him toward the doors. Farley only laughed in response to her.

Throwing one more good glare over her shoulder as she pushed Cal through the doors, Mare stuck her tongue out one more time.

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #love me a good Mare and Farley relationship #snaps for Mare having baby fever #cause she would #and her family would be fucking massive #give me ALL the cousins #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #technically this is a drabble #right? #its shorter than everything I normally write #But its still sweet ((: #also #I've got smut for ya'll #its coming #marecal #THE eternal ship #cause they did it ya'll #they made it through all the bullshit #I'm the captain of canon now #and I say there are 50 million Barrow cousins

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch3

Future Plans

Thank you everyone who’s reading this fic and enjoying it. It really means a lot that you guys like this fic so much.

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Everything settled down once Alfred stepped in the announce dinner, Jason was forced to relinquish Marinette so she could regain her footing and settle her stomach. Damian helped steady her as she took a few slow deep breaths to calm her stomach. Dick still much too animated, was herding the two youngest into the dining room where the table was filled with a large array of food plates set out and silverware pristine.

Damian helped her to a seat beside himself making sure she was comfortable before taking his seat much to the amusement of his family. “What?” he glared, catching his family all staring at him with a mix of glee and surprise.

“Oh nothing, just didn’t take you for a helicopter boyfriend.” Jason chuckled taking his seat and started to pile his plate full of Alfred’s amazing cooking.

“She’s pregnant, she should be careful.” Damian glared filling his and Marinette’s plate with all the vegetarian options he could find.

Marinette sighed softly watching Damian’s antics, a small smile on her face as he set her plate down in front of her, “Thank you Dami.” She whispered trying hard to ignore the three brothers across from her making exaggerated cooing and gagging noises at them

Bruce shook his head a fond smile on his face as everyone got their food and settled in to eat a comfortable silence falling over them as everyone enjoyed the meal. Of course, this is the Wayne household so silence never lasted long and it was Bruce to break it this time.

“So, Marinette why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself and you’re planning now that you’re pregnant, what do you plan to do for school?” Bruce asked sipping on some wine as he watched the two youngest.

“Schooling won’t be a problem. I was already doing online classes, so it won’t be a problem keeping up with my classes. As for the future I just want to do what is best for the baby and my future.” She smiled sipping on some water.

“And we’ll be there to help her out every step of the way,” Harley grinned, reaching over to ruffle Marinette’s hair.

“Of course, however, we should discuss her living arrangements.” Bruce nodded, setting his glass down pointedly ignoring his three eldest dramatically rolling their eyes and their comments of, ‘oh Christ’ and ‘he has to stop at some point.’

Harley just looked him in the eye and crossed her arms, “She will be living with her mothers, we can provide for her just fine Bruce. She should remain somewhere she is familiar with and comfortable so she doesn’t stress herself out.”

“I understand that, however, I’d very much like to get to know my son’s girlfriend and would like to know that she always has someone with her.” Bruce said eyeing both women at his table, “I don’t mean to sound rude but you two are well-known guests at Arkham.”

“Ivy and I haven’t gotten thrown into Arkham since we got Marigold,” Harley glared, getting to her feet, “And I don’t like your tone you are not just going to swoop in and take my daughter just because she’s carrying your grandchild Bruce. She is staying at home with us where we can help her and make sure she is happy and comfortable.”

“I don’t mean to insult Harley.” Bruce said, raising his hands in a calming manner, “I want what is best for her as much as you. We can get her a private doctor who won’t go to the press if they find out whose child she is carrying. We can watch over her in the event of you two having to handle up on other matters of less legal means.”

Tension filled the room as the kids watched Harley and Bruce go back and forth with their arguments and reasoning for why it would be best for Marinette to live with them as opposed to the other. Jason seemed greatly entertained enjoying the show while Dick seemed to want to play mediator trying to cut in but failing each time as they just grew louder. It wasn’t long until the room was filled with Bruce’s stern voice and Harley’s animated accented speech.

“Maman,” Marinette shouted, effectively shutting down the argument as Harley turned to look at Marinette, “Maybe we can compromise?” she asked a bit quietly.

Harley sighed, sitting down, and waved her hand signaling for Marinette to continue as she grabbed a roll biting into it as she waited for Marinette to say her piece.

Marinette took a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts before turning to look at Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, do you want me to live here?” she asked, getting his nod of confirmation, “Maman, and Mum you still want me to stay at home?” she added looking over at Harley and Ivy getting their nods as well.

She nodded, taking another moment, “How about we have a sort of… custody agreement?” she asked, trying to think of the proper words, “All my schoolwork and projects are at home and I don’t want to completely relocate this late in the year. I can still stay with my moms’ during the week and on the weekend I can stay here. On holidays all of us can come over and spend the break here.” She said looking between the adults, “That way I’m still with my moms and you all can still get to know me and you can keep your eyes on me since no one thinks I can function now that I’m pregnant.”

The adults fell into silence thinking the proposal over. Harley let out a sigh letting her head fall back in her seat, “I suppose it’ll do but if anything happens to you while you’re here we are locking you in your room away from Bruce.” She quickly threw in.

“And if either of you end up in Arkham then she’s being moved to the manor immediately.” Bruce tacked on staring the two women down.

“So… doesn’t everyone agree to the terms?” Marinette asked, looking between the two a bit warily as they continued to stare each other down.

“It’s a good compromise.” Ivy said putting a hand on Harley’s arm, “Right Bruce?”

“Yes it is,” Bruce nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Harley to look at Marinette, “I’ll have Alfred prepare a room for you.”

Marinette nodded a soft smile on her face as the tension began to leave the room as everyone went back to quietly eating. Until Jason decided to cut in, “You met Demon Spawn through a pen pal assignment, right? How’d that go?”

Marinette giggled softly as Damian got this slightly pained look on his face at the mention of how they met. “I used to go to school in Paris, we had a pen pal assignment. We would send letters back and forth at first it was only for the assignment. I’ll admit I wasn’t aware he was from a well-known wealthy family and since it was just for school we didn’t share many personal details at the beginning.” She admitted.

“What was it that caused the snowball?” Damian asked, leaning back trying to remember.

“You mentioned in your letter that you were in the middle of a feud with your brothers because one of them threatened to eat Batcow and another hid Jerry the Turkey around Thanksgiving.” Marinette said giggling at the memory, “I was so confused that you had farm animals, and then the next letter you sent pictures of your animals. I still have them in an old photo album somewhere.”

“From there we just started talking more when the assignment was due to end she sent me her email and we continued to talk through that later it turned into video calls then we swapped numbers when she came to Gotham.” Damian finished pointedly ignoring his brothers looking at him as if he was a clone.

“Why did you move to Gotham?” Dick asked looking at Marinette a bit curious, “Not many people pick Gotham when they’re looking for new places to live.”

“I came to Gotham because that’s where my moms live. They adopted me a little over a year ago and I was flown out here once the adoption was all finished.” She said her formerly bright and happy smile fading away to a more somber one.

“You mentioned projects.” Jason quickly cut in drawing Marinette’s attention, “are they school projects or hobbies?”

“Oh, they’re commissions for an online store I have. I like to keep them in one spot part of why I don’t want to leave home just yet it’ll take a while to properly pack everything up so nothing is ruined.” She smiled a bit of her shine coming back, “I run a small online boutique and make clothing. The sweater and jeans I’m wearing I actually made. I don’t often buy premade clothing unless it’s to customize.”

Once the sudden round of questioning came to an end other conversations began to flow smoothly after that everyone taking turns to ask a question or to throw out an answer. The tension from the previous custody argument seemingly forgotten as the Wayne boys took turns trying to learn as much about Marinette as possible. However, Marinette made it a tad difficult for them to get any real personal information on her as she seemed to masterfully skirt around certain questions while making it seem like she wasn’t dodging the question.

If anyone noticed her doing so they didn’t comment on it. Soon the plates were cleared away and Alfred was coming out with a plate stacked with macarons of multiple colors and flavors. Alfred walked around and set down a few macarons on everyone’s plate before disappearing back into the kitchen with a few leftovers for him to enjoy. Everyone kindly thanked Marinette for bringing the dessert even though she didn’t have to as they each picked up their cookie to take a bite.

Soft chatter began to fill as the boys began complimenting Marinette on the macarons as they all enjoyed the sweet cookies. “These are delicious Marinette where did you learn to make them?” Dick asked his cheeks ballooned out like a chipmunk as he chewed.

Marinette giggled happiness filling her as everyone enjoying her dessert, “I grew up in a bakery most of my life so baking is just second nature at this point.” she smiled, “I usually make bread for the week on sundays so it’s one less thing we have to worry about getting at the store.” she added.

The Wayne boys nodded as they enjoyed the cookies and continued with their previous attempt of questioning Marinette though didn’t get very far once again. Marinette seemed to know how to handle questioning quite well to answer a question by not giving an answer at all and it didn’t even bother them.

All too soon dinner came to an end and the Isley-Quinzels had to leave so that Marinette could get to sleep for her classes in the morning. They all stood at the front door saying their good-byes and planning when best to drop Marinette off on the upcoming Friday. “We’ve also already found her an OB-GYN we’ll send over the information and when we have appointments settled we’ll be sure to notify you if we keep this doctor,” Ivy said as she pulled on her coat.

“You trust this doctor?” he asked looking at her as the boys were busy trying to say their good-byes to Marinette.

“We won’t know for sure until we’re in her office. Marinette is a good judge of character if she doesn’t trust the doctor then we won’t continue to go to them.” Ivy said as Marinette kissed Damian on the cheek before coming over to join them, “We’ll keep you informed on how everything goes but we won’t be able to set up an appointment until sometime next week.”

He nodded and opened the door for them, “You three have a safe night and I’ll see you on Friday Marinette.” Bruce smiled gently patting her back as she nodded following her mother’s out.

“Have a nice evening Mr. Wayne.” She smiled softly up at him as they all left heading down the stairs as Bruce closed the door and turned to face his sons. He let out a tired sigh watching as they all seemed to be ganging up on Damian trying to interrogate him about Marinette to learn as much as they could before Friday rolled around.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @killer-frost-ladybug @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #Stomach Bug