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odetojeons · 3 years

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Will You Punish Me If I Don’t? — Jeon Wonwoo

request: a lil drunk reader × possessive wonu angry sex pls

tags: fem and brat!reader, dom!wonwoo, edging, semi-public sex, angry sex, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), a tiiiiiny bit of light degradation and spit kink, unprotected sex (stay safe), wall sex (oh yes you read that right), a whole lot of dirty talk, JEON WONWOO IN A CROP TOP BYE, established jeon wonwoo x reader

a/n: this took me a whole fucking day to write it 💀 i think my soul left my body on the meantime and now i’m just a spirit,, but i love this so much, pls, possessive wonu is one of the biggest moods ever 🥵 also i’m sure i made a lot of stupid grammar mistakes that i didn’t realize even after proof reading it, so you’re just gonna,, pretend you don’t see those :)) i hope you enjoy, i made this with all my heart JDJSJDJS

word count: 6244

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You know very well you’re being annoying and petty today.

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You both have been on this damn party for a while and you tried to get Wonwoo to leave and fuck you for at least five times now. You tried dirty dancing on the dance floor; nope. You tried sitting on his lap when he was talking to his friends; nope. You even tried to make out with him; but it only had lasted for a few minutes.

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It had you even more horny and angry. And that is never a good combination when it comes to you.

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But can people really blame you when Wonwoo is looking that good? You have been making a great amount of effort not to stare too much at Wonwoo’s abs peeking from his black cropped shirt, the sharpness of his V-line more visible than it should be legally allowed — it’s bad for your poor heart after all. But you do a poor job of hiding how the whole outfit affects you, because Wonwoo was looking and he had this known glint swimming inside his eyes and it’s got you licking your lips.

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But still, he didn’t do anything.

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Well, not until you used your last resort.

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Your mind threw back to the memory of Wonwoo’s big hand resting on your inner thigh earlier when you were sitting in his lap, the veins in the back of his palm tracing a dirty path up to his forearms. And there’s always a strength, even a possessiveness in the way he holds you, his other hand squeezing a little hard against your waist, grip tightening every time someone stares at you for a second too long. There’s something so raw in the way he acts, like it’s almost unconscious, and it turns you on without a doubt.

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No matter how you looked at other people and tried to rile him up, Wonwoo still remained in his stupid composed behavior, this little acts being the only proof of his jealousy.

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But not tonight. Tonight you were going to make him snap, no matter what. You were gonna make him fuck you rough and fast and give you as many orgasms as you wanted.

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Oh, but you were so wrong. Things totally backfired at you.

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You started by going into the dance floor again, after a few shots of some liquid courage. Swaying your hips at the beat, you tried your best to throw sultry looks at where he was sitting — manspreading, your brain unfortunately added, because he looked so hot doing that — in one of the sofas, eyes set on you like you’re the only thing that he could ever look at.

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You smirked, pleased with his reaction, before proceeding with your plan. Hands reaching forward, you touched the shoulder of the first guy you saw in front of you. It doesn’t take long for him to turn around and smile. He seemed genuinely nice, so you felt a little bad for using him to make your boyfriend jealous, but when you looked at him the guilt disappeared in two seconds.

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His head was hung low, eyebrows frown and fists clenched in where he supported his arms on the sofa. You winked at him and clearly saw how he seemed to almost visibly snarl at your teasing, knowing very well what was your intent with all of that; Wonwoo looked at you like he was about to consume you whole in front of everyone just to prove who you belonged to — and you felt your legs tremble at the idea of that.

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It was a game to see who would give in first; you to your frustration and horniness or Wonwoo to his possessives and jealousy. You couldn’t stop staring at him, the both of you shooting daggers into each other, especially when you turned your back to the guy and swayed your hips obscenely for him.

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But it was when he put his hand on your waist and glued his lips to your ear that things started taking a turn of events; in the next second, Wonwoo was standing right beside you. The air grew thicker quickly, and your breath was knocked out of you at the sight of your — very pissed off and very hot — boyfriend looking down at you.

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“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo’s voice had rang through your ears, loud enough to make you mewl softly even through all the music going on in the background.

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“Dancing?” you asked with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him. Wonwoo groaned, grabbing your wrist.

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“Um,” the guy from before started. “I think I should be going now?”

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He waited for an answer, but you and Wonwoo were too busy looking at each other intensively to even care, so he cleared his throat and left.

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“Let’s go,” he stated simply, pulling at you through the crowd so you both could go outside. You giggle a little when you trip on your foot, a bit tipsy with the shots you took.

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And that’s how you find yourself currently being guided until you were both right in front of his car. Your mouth opens, ready to make a clever comment that would surely rile him up and give in to what you want, before he turns around and gets all over your personal space, so suddenly that the words get stuck in your throat. The scent of his cedarwood cologne invades your lungs, sending your mind into a little haze.

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“What were you thinking, letting another man touch you?” Wonwoo says, voice rough and firm, lips pressed into a thin line like he was still holding something back.

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And you don’t want him to.

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“You took too long, and I have needs,” you retort, stepping up into his space too, not wanting to back down even when the sight of Wonwoo’s dark, dark eyes bleeding with lust made a very noticeable shiver run down your spine.

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“What kind of need would even make you want to rub yourself all over someone else that—” he stops himself, closing his mouth before groaning, annoyed. You smirk at him, knowing what he was going to say.

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All over someone else that isn’t me.

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“Hmm, let me see,” you giggle, face centimeters apart from his, your breaths mingling with each other. “A need to get fucked hard, for starters.”

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The intensity of his gaze growing exponentially dark wipes the smile off your face in seconds. You try not to gulp when he scoffs, taking one messy step back when he takes one further.

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“So that’s what this is about?” Wonwoo questions, tone suddenly mean and sarcastic, and there’s heat licking and pooling at your lower belly faster than you expected. His deep voice never fails to leave you trembling. “You’re so desperate to get railed that you couldn’t even wait to get home before throwing yourself at some random dude.”

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Your cheeks tint red in shame and arousal, realizing this wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation, like he knows exactly how horny you are, and you try to remain composed. You are not going to give up until he loses it.

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“Maybe,” you say, a single finger trailing through his torso distractingly, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you look at his abs peeking from behind his cropped. Wonwoo’s face hardens at that, and you smile internally in victory. “Why? Are you jealous, baby?”

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He laughs, throwing his head back, but it only serves to make you even more satisfied. That’s exactly the reaction you expected him to have.

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“You’re drunk,” Wonwoo answers instead, and you think it’s endearing how he denies so hard that he’s not possessive.

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“Nope,” you press your finger in his chest again, but he doesn’t even buge from the place. Fuck, that’s hot, you think, licking your lips and watching Wonwoo’s eyes zeroing in the action. “A little bit tipsy? Yes. But drunk? Not at all.”

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Suddenly, you back away, trying to ignore the way your body protests against the lack of warmth, the lack of Wonwoo.

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“So if you’re not jealous, then you wouldn’t mind me getting off with someone else, right?” you trail off, feeling proud of yourself when he looks at you like you just made something emerge from the ground with psychic powers.

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“What?” he asks, tone furious, and you jump a little in place with the intensity of it, but soon recovers with a pout.

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“I mean,” you start, acting like you’re not saying the biggest stupid thing you could ever think of saying, shrugging at him. Of course it was all a lie, there’s no way you’ll ever want someone else other than Wonwoo. “You’re always telling me to wait and wait and wait, so if you’re not that jealous, then maybe I should get someone else to fuck me when you can’t.”

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Wonwoo moves so fast your brain takes a time to understand what he just did; in a second you were standing with your glorious bratty attitude, the next you were pushed against the car, one hand squeezing your jaw tight in place and the other holding your wrists behind your back. His bigger and broader body pins yours against the door, and you have a hard time breathing now.

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Now that’s a way to sober up.

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“No,” he grits out, sounding more like a growl than an actual word. Your heart is hammering like crazy against your chest, and you gasp softly when he pushes your jaw backwards until the back of your head hits the car, neck exposed for him. “No one should be allowed to touch you like this. No one but me. No one.”

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Then Wonwoo bites the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so hard you think the mark is gonna be there for days. You moan at that, hips kicking and shocking with Wonwoo’s.

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“You know nobody could fuck you like I do,” he says, sounding smug but also dead serious, and this cocky side of his during such moments never fails to make you wet.

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You inhale, reuniting the fight there’s still in you. To be honest the only thing that makes you still retort back is the alcohol. It gives you a special ability of not being able to shut up.

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“I guess someone else will have to fuck me so I can believe you.”

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You watch his demeanor change instantly at that; shoulders tensing, jaw clenching and predatory eyes — Wonwoo kisses the breath out of you. He sucks at your body lip, licking at the seam of your mouth, and you gasp, mouth parting and his tongue slides against yours. There’s a hot flash rushing all over you as your body pulses with want; Wonwoo has always been a great kisser, capable of surrendering you putty in his hands.

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He kisses you again and again and again, as if someone might take you away. He kisses you like he wants to carve his identity in your soul. He kisses you so messy and hungry that your teeth actually clack and the sounds of your lips dragging roughly and tongues rubbing against each other fills the air around you.

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Wonwoo can probably taste the alcohol, if the way he moans is anything to go by.

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It is dirty, lewd and so fucking hot you feel the fight leaving your body momentarily along with your breath, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. There are a few tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, and you don’t even realize their presence, but then, and only then, Wonwoo pulls away. He bites at your lower lip one more time, a lewd string of saliva connecting your mouths for a short while before it breaks.

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“Seems like you suddenly forgot who’s name you scream when you’re getting railed,” Wonwoo tells you, voice poisonous and labored breath caressing the skin of your neck. “Should I remind you?”

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“Y-yes,” you moan out, enjoying the proposal, but it only serves to make Wonwoo scoff.

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“I think you need to learn how to respect me first,” he says instead, and there’s butterflies swarming together in your belly, chest still heaving for air.

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“Will you punish me if I don’t?” you retort, staring him right back in the eyes.

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Wonwoo growls.

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“You better shut the fuck up before I make you regret,” he says, and you feel a shiver rocking so bad on your body that your hips collide into Wonwoo’s, his half hard cock pressing against your stomach. The feeling makes you moan.

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“Why would I?” you ask, trembling voice giving away how much this all affects you. “I want this.”

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There’s a bit of silence before you continue.

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“Make me regret.”

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“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans, biting on your neck again, this time so far up that you won’t be able to hide it that easily. “So needy you can’t even think about anything else other than having a cock drilling into you.”

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Wonwoo kisses your moan away, sucks at your bottom lip until it’s swollen. Then, he puts three fingers in your mouth, like he’s telling you to shut up.

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Wonwoo turns his head to look down at your shuddering frame trapped between the side of the car and him. You don’t look up, too focused on sucking at his long fingers, but when Wonwoo starts to move his arm that was occupied by your mouth, you stir, and look up to meet his eyes.

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They’re dark, with a glint in them you could only recognize as devious and wicked and so so so mean. It’s the same glint he gets when he’s about to deal out a punishment, or tease you enough that you believe it’s a punishment. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand, and a bead of sweat drips from your eyebrow. You wonder what you’ve got yourself in for the night when you both get home.

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As if on cue, answering your arousal hazed thoughts, the hand that was slowly doing a dangerous path down your body settles itself on the front of your pants. It’s heavy on your clit, and you can feel Wonwoo digging his fingers into your entrance. You barely have the sense to react, and even if you could, you reminded yourself you weren’t home yet. Wonwoo now has his hand groping your pussy in public.

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Your face flushes a dark red at the realization, feeling humiliated and embarrassed under Wonwoo’s grip. If someone were to see, they’d get arrested for sure. Wonwoo’s hand has a strong grip on your clit, fingers quickly slipping past the thick fabric of your denim jeans and lace panties so he could press the pad of it against your naked and wet folds.

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You whine quietly, and now that the hold on your jaw has been set loose, you nestle your face further into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. With a grip on Wonwoo’s jacket, you feel him angling his head so it rests against the top of your head.

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“Wait, f-fuck, someone might see us!” you whisper-yell at him, but Wonwoo only hums and steps in closer. Your chests are flush together and he towers over your frame easily enough to hide you between him and the car. “Wonwoo—”

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Your sentence gets interrupted by your own moan when he presses a finger inside of you. You quiver, legs trembling, and you let the realization that Wonwoo is about to finger you publicly sink into your stomach. You know that the streets are deserted and there’s not one single soul around there since it’s so late, but the thought of it still has you gasping.

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“Wait? But weren’t you the one complaining about me making you wait all the time?” Wonwoo bites back, tone mean and unforgiving when he fucks his finger inside of you. He sounds almost angry and it’s making you so damn horny. “Earlier you were looking at me with such a hunger. I bet you were thinking about me fucking you in front of everyone, weren’t you, baby?”

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You moan because yes, that was exactly what you were thinking. His hand lets go of your wrists when he adds another finger inside of you. It burns a little, you think, but enjoys the pain as your arms fly up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. Wonwoo goes easily, mouth finding yours and fingers fucking inside you in a way that has you squirming.

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He soon gives attention to your neck, kissing all over it before sucking a wet blotch against the skin right underneath your jaw. Wonwoo pulls away, looking at it for a while like it gives him some sort of feral satisfaction to see you bearing one of his marks.

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“Wonwoo, I’m n-not—” your words break off into a whine, struggling to form sentences. “Not— g-gonna be able to hide the, ah, hickey i-if you suck it that far up.”

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“Good,” Wonwoo says, and his mouth finds your neck. You scratch his scalp when he sucks again, this time harder, his arm coming to help you up when your legs give in. “Want everyone to know you’re mine. Only mine to fuck, to breed, to love, to cherish, to make you my little slut.”

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You throw your head, back arching off of the car and mouth opening to let a high pitched moan scape you. Wonwoo then adds another finger, the third one, and gyrates them so hard inside you you actually feel like you’re seeing stars, figuratively and realistically — the night sky above you is adorned with a few of them.

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“Acting like a brat and riling me up like that, this is what you wanted, isn’t that right, princess?” Wonwoo spits out, lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s getting more and more angry at his own words. “If I didn’t stop you right there, would you have continued dancing with that dude, huh? Would you maybe have made out with him?”

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You try to answer, maybe tease him back again, but you can’t even form a coercive sentence. The only thing you can do is hold onto Wonwoo like your life depends on it as he fucks you furiously with his fingers, and take whatever he’s willing to give it to you.

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“Do you think he could finger you like this?” Wonwoo says poisonously, hand squeezing at your ass hard enough that you think it’s gonna leave the print of his fingers. “Think he would have a bigger cock than mine?”

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He ruts against you as if to prove his point, hard and so fucking big it has you breathless. You know how your boyfriend is well-endowed, know he could make you feel him for days after a good fuck and your mouth salivates. Wonwoo presses the pad of his fingers in your sweet spot, jamming against it without pulling out with quick movements, and you feel like you’re going insane.

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“Since you put a lot of effort into being a fucking brat today, I will give you what you want, sweetheart,” Wonwoo laughs a little, almost as if he’s mocking you, and your whole face burns in pleasurable humiliation. “I’m gonna be rough. I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast against every surface of our house, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows you belong to me, gonna use you, make you my little ragdoll and dump you full of my cum until you’re all heavy and swollen with it.”

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“Wonwoo— your f-fuck, fucking dirty mouth, ah—” you thrash in his grip, nestling your face further into his neck and he knew, he knew all along what was your intention with the way you were acting, and you hold tight on his hair, hearing him growl when you pull at it. “I’m gonna come. Gonna cum s-so fucking hard, fuck—”

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“I’ll make it hurt,” Wonwoo warns, his lips ghosting at the shell of your ear and hot breath tickling your sensitive skin, brings goosebumps all over it. “But I’ll make it feel good.”

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The pleasure builds quickly and you throw your head back with a loud moan, orgasm almost hitting you like a train.

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But then, everything stops. Wonwoo pulls away, fingers slipping out of you and he wipes them in his jeans. He then goes through his pocket and grabs the car keys, the familiar beep sound echoing through the empty streets when he clicks a button on the key chain, and it’s got you completely dumbfounded.

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“Come on, get in the car, baby,” Wonwoo states simply, like he didn’t just make the best orgasm of your life ebb away. Frustration sinks deep within your bones and you groan, turning to look at him like he just committed a war crime.

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“Why did you— why did you stop?” you question, heart almost jumping out of your chest and you feel like you’re going to actually die if you don’t get to come soon. “I was just there!”

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“Oh, sweetheart,” Wonwoo coos at you like he finds what you just said endearing. Face flushing dark red, you get completely embarrassed with how quick he makes you feel small. “You thought I was going to make you cum?”

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Wonwoo comes closer, holds your chin softly, a total contrast to what he says then.

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“Poor baby, I’m actually going to do the exact opposite.” he pecks your lips once. “Gonna edge you until you cry.”

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He goes around the car and opens the door for you.

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“Now get in, baby. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Wonwoo says, tone leaving no room for arguments, and you gulp before obeying.

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Wonwoo closes the door for you when you finish settling yourself inside, and goes to the driver’s seat. You watch him turn the car on as you put your seatbelt, whining when your cunt throbs in need. When he starts driving you try your best to move as quietly as you can, squirming a little until you can smooth your fingers through your clit. You gyrate them once, pleasure swarming all over your body, before Wonwoo’s voice wakes you up from your short haze.

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“No touching yourself,” he admonishes with a tsk and you groan, frustrated. He’s still looking at the road and you don’t even know how he managed to figure it out that you were touching yourself.

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Staring out of the window, your thighs rub together every time the car shakes a little. Your mind supplies unnecessary images of your boyfriend fucking you, and you curse a little. Even trying to imagine disgusting things wouldn’t delete Wonwoo’s words from earlier out of your head, and you’re getting more and more excited by the second.

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“Wonwon…” you sigh, almost a whisper, hips moving in the air and hands coming to grab at one of your breasts. You smirk, content when you hear him growl.

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“I said not to touch yourself,” Wonwoo’s knuckles turn white with how hard he grips the steering wheel. “Should I tie you up in our bed and leave you untouched or are you going to start obeying me?”

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“But you’re not doing anything,” you whine, wanting nothing else then to come.

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“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Wonwoo says, voice low and dead serious.

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“I don’t think you know either.”

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The car comes to a complete stop right after you say that. You gulp, realizing Wonwoo has already parked in your private garage. He gets out of the car and goes to your side, opening the door, still in complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Turn this way,” he orders, voice one octave lower, and you gasp at the roughness of it. “Now.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You spring into action, take your seatbelt off, doing as you’re told, and as soon as you finish turning to him with your legs outside of the car, he gets on his knees.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo,” it’s the only thing you manage to say as you watch him work with your pants after taking your shoes off. He ends up popping the button off but you don’t have it in you to complain, not when he’s looking like that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo finishes taking your jeans off, throwing somewhere in the garage, and then he grabs at both sides of the collar of your shirt. You frown, confused with the action, but then his hands are pulling, and he rips it in half.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you moan, beyond turned on as he does the same to your penties. Your clothes are torn apart but you can’t think of anything else other than fuck me fuck me fuck me. “I—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you shut, lips dragging hard against yours, and you feel his hands at your thighs before he pulls at them enough so that you slip on your seat. He uses the grip to open your legs for him, not even giving you a break to understand what’s going on before sucking on your clit hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ �� ⠀ ⠀

Your back arches, hands scrambling to hold on something — one of them finds the steering wheel and the other finds the wadding of the seat, body thrashing everywhere before Wonwoo pins your hips down in place — knows better than to shove his face in your cunt as you originally wanted to do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He licks between your folds one, two, three times; the tip of his tongue prods inside your already loose entrance, and fuck if you didn’t moan, high pitched and greedy for more. Wonwoo inserts more of it until his nose is pressed against your clit, doing a sound in the back of his throat that sends just right. The wetness of his tongue feels so good pressing against your cores and kicking at your soft folds.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, fuck— f-feels so good—” Wonwoo thrusts his tongue inside you, and you feel like you’re seeing stars, especially when he presses just right. “Ah! Shit, your f-fucking tongue—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo has to hold you down tighter, your body unable to stay put as you thrash around. You feel tempted to think how your neighbors could probably hear you, but your boyfriend is sucking the life out of you through your pussy and you can’t concentrate well enough to elaborate the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s when Wonwoo curls his tongue just right that has you thinking you would ascend to heaven soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck! I, ah— Wanna cum, Wonwon, I’m coming, please— let me cum this time,” you manage to get out, writhing and legs kicking everywhere. “Please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But, of course Wonwoo, being the little shit he is, pulls away. Tears gather in your eyes as you groan out of frustration, and Wonwoo is just so mean.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shit—” you cry out, watching his shit eating grin. You hate but love at the same time the way he’s absolutely enjoying seeing you so desperate for a release. “Y-you’re so mean.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you gonna stop being a brat now?” Wonwoo raises a brow at you, licking his lips. You shiver, knowing that he’s tasting you by the pleased hum he makes after.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck you,” you spit it out, too horny and angry to care.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, looking at you as if you’re his prey, to which you’re starting to believe you actually are. “Maybe I should put a gag in this dirty little mouth of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo traces a thumb in your lower lip like he’s considering the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But I think I’m just gonna fuck that attitude out of you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the comment before he pulls on your wrist so hard you get up from the seat, body colliding into his. Wonwoo’s mouth finds yours, the kiss messy and hungry and angry, to the point it makes your legs weak. Your hands scramble to take his shirt off right after you manage to throw his belt somewhere, and you stop for a moment to admire the hard planes of his abs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo must be the hottest person alive. How can someone have such a handsome face and have a body that looks like it’s sculpted by the gods? He’s getting stronger with his gym practices and it's making you weak.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You might actually drool if you keep staring like that,” Wonwoo says, half joking and half serious, but you blush anyways.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just—” you try, breath labored and chest heaving. “J-just rail me. Use me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Want me to treat you like the slut you are?” his lewd question makes you tremble and nod your head. “Speak.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes, please—” you beg, revolve slowly breaking in.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course you do,” he answers, voice a few octave lowers again, and he grabs a fistful of your hair. Wonwoo pulls at it until your head is thrown back, his face right above yours. “Open your mouth.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re quick to obey, mouth parting as he hovers over you, the only thing keeping you up is one of his arms around your waist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And oh god, you’re certainly not expecting when he fucking spits into your mouth, a hand coming to press against your jaw and make you close your lips, but you sure as hell want him to do it again.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Swallow.” Wonwoo orders, and you moan, doing as you’re told. He looks at you with a feral satisfaction, eyes dark and so full of hunger it stunts you into silence. It’s like there’s this lustful wish of him to break you in until you don’t belong to anyone else but him, and that’s so fucking hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He kisses you for what feels like the hundredth time — not that you’re complaining, he could kiss you for one hundred more and you’d still beg for it. But this time there’s something different, something urgent, and he grasps the back of your thighs when he finishes taking his clothes off and fish something from the pocket of his pants, hefting you up in the air, your legs circling around his waist automatically.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t break the messy kiss as he walks through the garage, opening the door that leads to the inside of the house. He doesn’t waste time before slamming you into it as soon as he closes it, your back hitting the wooden frame with a loud thud as the two of you make out like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s too much tongue and too much spit and too much teeth, but the dirtiness of it all is what makes it even more hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want you,” you whine out, realizing that what Wonwoo took out of his pants earlier was a package of lube.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He rips at the top and pours at his hands, reaching behind you to stroke his hard cock, groaning at the feeling as he lines up with your entrance. The wet head nudges your rim softly, but it slips through your folds. You look at Wonwoo only to realize he’s already staring at you, devious glint in his eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re about to tell him to hurry up when a moan is punched out of you, high pitched and needy, because Wonwoo fucked his cock inside you in one go, nearly knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your nails scratch all over his back and he groans at the feeling, hips kicking into you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You like that?” he questions, rhetorically of course, and grinds his hips until they are flushed against your ass. You gasp for air, feeling full to the brim, and the burn in your cunt is just so good. “Think I don’t know about your little plans to rile me up?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo even has the audacity to laugh, jamming inside you with slow but deep thrusts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How you get more handsy with your friends when I’m around,” he grits out, anger bleeding through his thoughts and thrusts like he just hates the idea of you touching more intimately other people. “And you look at me with those eyes. Like you’re begging me to claim you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Holy fuck, Jeon Wonwoo is fucking you standing up and you’re not dreaming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is full on mercilessly ramming you now, sending you body into the door with every plunge of his cock, the sound of your back hitting the wood obscenely loud. It leaves you putty, can just take what he’s giving you, hands holding him for dear life.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve put you on your knees right in front of that guy,” Wonwoo continues, breath ragged from effort. “Make you choke on my cock so he knows who you belong to.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo grabs your ass with his hands, palms sinking into the flash as he propels you back every time he fucks up. It makes the drag of his thickness press right through all the good spots.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve bent you over the bar counter and fucked you hard until you scream my fucking name,” he growls out, the veins on his neck and arms bulging. You tighten around him in answer to the sinful view. “Fuck, your pussy is so greedy. Always so tight—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo angles his hips just right and hits against your sweet spot so suddenly that your climax — which was already at bay — escalates quickly to the point it sends your mind into a frenzy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And, for the third time, Wonwoo slows down, hips flush against your ass he can nudge his cockhead right above your sweet spot, missing it on purpose. Your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long for them to run down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading down your cheeks uncontrollably.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So beautiful,” Wonwoo groans at the sight of you crying for him, pecking one of your tears strained cheek. “I’ve broken you in, haven’t I?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“P-please, Wonwon— Please, please, please let me c-come,” you sob, all the want to be a brat gone from your body. The overwhelming need grows so exponentially big inside of you you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t orgasm. “W-wanna cum on your cock, please, ah—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is moaning, louder than he has all day, and the satisfaction of seeing you give up on your fight and beg for him makes his hips pick up a brutal pace. You gasp, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and biting at the untouched skin.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So pretty when you beg,” he compliments, and you actually find surprising your ability to blush even when you’re being dicked down this good. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes— Ah! Hmmm, shit—” you mumble, struggling to get words out. It’s difficult to keep your voice steady enough to say anything with the way you’re bouncing like a ragdoll on Wonwoo’s hold. “Love this— L-love you, ruin me, Wonwoo, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls your head backward with a fistful of your hair, baring your neck so that he could attack it with bites and hickeys all over. You’re sure that, by the end of this night, you’re going to be looking like some type of sexual Christmas tree, but the thought of baring your boyfriend’s marks after sex only turns you on. And he seems pretty intent on that, wanting to claim you in all ways possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say it,” Wonwoo commands, but you don’t understand, can’t understand with your mind being in such a pleasurable haze. He fucks up right in the time he pulls you back down by your waist, downright impaling you on his cock. “Say you’re mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yours,” you answer, fingers intertwining through Wonwoo’s dark strands of hair. “I’m yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” Wonwoo growls out, basking in your pleads and moans and screams of pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours,” you repeat, and he bites on your lower lip. You have enough of a mind presence to admire his bulging biceps contorting with your weight, and his huge test firm and sweaty from the effort.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” his possessive side gets the best of him, admiring all the marks he has left in your neck. “Say it again.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours, ah!” a moan breaks at the end of the word, Wonwoo’s thrusts getting rougher, faster and there’s heat pooling down on your lower stomach. “I’m y-yours, all yours, only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, mine,” Wonwoo agrees, holding your smaller frame tightly against his. “Mine,” he echoes again, muscles trembling from fucking you standing up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you, the best he can with the harsh movement of your body going up and down on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you so much,” he tells you, voice soft and rough at the same time. “I have always been only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m gonna come, I’m g-going to— going to come,” you state after his words, the pull on your lower stomach growing impossibly higher, and it’s almost unbearable. “Please, fuck, please l-let— cum— let m-me cum! I have been g-good, please, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

”Such a good girl for me. The best girl,” Wonwoo praises, angling his hips a little so he can press his cockhead against your sweet spot every time he fucks inside. “Come on, you can cum, sweetheart.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your eyes roll so far back in your head you’re momentarily afraid they are never coming back. White hot pleasure surges in your body, the sheer intensity of your high sends your mind into a mess. The feeling of your walls clenching like a vice around Wonwoo’s cock sends him over the edge too, and the sensation of his cum shooting inside your walls only serves to add up to what you think it’s the best orgasm of your life, mind going completely blank.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This might have been totally different from what you’ve originally planned but you know what? You’re definitely going to use this plan more often now.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen imagine #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo #wonwoo imagine #svt imagines #jeon wonwoo #seventeen x reader #possessive wonwoo coming to destroy everyone #including me #svt smut #jeon wonwoo smut

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kadssp · 2 years

Note

MY FACE IS ON FIRE RN I LOOK LIKE BOB THE TOMATO IM SCARED BUT OKAY-

Imagine vampire Will,, please just hear me out-

He kills the kids not just bc he's insane but bc he also needs to drink blood and kids are an easy target. And his business is the perfect opportunity to get good food. Ppl get really scared of the place when multiple bodies are found with two puncture wounds in their necks and nearly drained of all the blood but people still keep coming because there's no where else to drop their kids off at during the day. Will is good at covering his tracks and blending in too; him not following all of the old legends that vamps cant be in sunlight and don't have reflections.

You're probably one of his employees,, from the very first day you came to work he can smell how tasty your blood would be. It awakens something deep and primordial within him. AND you're quite cute as well. When he looks at you he can feel all his predatory instincts going off. The need to hunt and protect. Fortunately for him you seem to find him handsome, but youre shy. Not willing to initiate anything with an older man nor with an older man who's also your boss. That's fine. He doesn't mind luring you in. He finds it cute the way you blush when he compliments you. And the smell of your heated blood under the skin of your cheeks makes him hard. He's gonna have so much fun with his new little plaything once he has you.

Unfortunately for him though, you're smart. A clever little bunny. You soon enough suspect him of his crimes. You don't wanna believe it, but your suspicions are confirmed when he asks you to work after hours one night. He takes you into the parts and services closet and grabs your waist from behind with one hand, the other wrapped around your neck. You're blushing as he tilts your head to the side so all of your pretty neck is exposed to him. It's hard for him ro control himself. But, he doesn't want to scare you. Not too much, anyway. Not enough for you to run, but enough to get you going.

That's when he proposes a deal, whispering into your ear.

"My my, it looks like I've finally gotten you, little bunny. Shh shh, don't squirm. I promise I'm not going to hurt you too much... Good. Good little one. Darling I'm finding it quite hard to restrain myself, so how about we cut to the chase, hm? You're correct. All of your suspicions and thoughts up in that pretty head of yours are correct. I am what you think I am... Oh? Does that excite you? I can feel you heating up, bunny. Naughty bunny. I suppose thay means my suspicions are correct too. You want me. Even now after you know the truth. Don't you? Dirty girl. I see the way you look at me. All while you're at work in my restaurant. Who knew my bunny could be such a slut. How about a trade then, hm? If you'll allow me to take all of what I want from you, I'll give you all of what you want from me as well. Again and again. You'll belong to me, bunny. And no one else. For as long as you live. How does that sound, pretty girl?"

Bye throwing my phone across the room now bc i feel like i embarrassed myself,,

-🍨 anon

I THREW MY PHONE AFTER READING THIS BECAUSE I GOT EMBARRASSED ABOUT THINKING OF VAMPIRE!WILLIAM SO WE’RE BOTH FUCKED

he has a dark grin on his face at the fear in your eyes after he proposes the deal to you, fangs peeking into view in the dimly lit closet and you’re not left with much of a choice now that you know what he truly is. you either agree or become his next meal (though he threatens that on you. he’d just simply kidnap you if you resisted) so being the smart bunny that you are you shakily agree, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat and he hums in approval, leading you out and to his car with a pleased smile as if you weren’t just shoved into a closet and almost bitten by the older man who you still strangely found attractive. almost even more so now that your suspicions had been confirmed but why? humans lived to fear vampires, to try and get rid of them if it were possible nowadays and to stay as far away from any you suspected was one, so if you were raised to despise these creatures why did the idea of william being one excite you? why did it light a small flame in the pit of your stomach knowing he was a monster, the very man driving you to what you assumed was his house with a big hand squeezing your inner thigh. you might even feel conflicted knowing part of you felt safe around such a beast as him, that part of you wanted him knowing he’s a vampire. you could only hope he wouldn’t drain all the blood from your body anytime soon when he parked in his driveway.

#you got me thinkin thoughts tonight #🌻 . kadi answers #🌻 . kady answers #🌻 . kandi answers #🍰 . general #🍬 . anons #🍬 . 🍨 anon #i love this more than i should💀💀

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Nunky! (Modern!Ivar x reader - Modern!Ivar x OCs niece and nephew)

A/N: This is my entry to @flowers-in-your-hayr 650 Followers Celebration 🎉 Congrats again, love 🌸 And thanks for this amazing moodboard 😍

I'm awfully late, sorry about that. The truth is, do you know what it is to struggle? Let me tell you: there were three other drafts before this final version. More than 4000 words... All trashed...

Anyway, I'm quite happy with this one, that's all that matters.

@geekandbooknerd, thanks for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Ever wonder what kind of uncle Ivar would be? Let me show you 😉

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff 🙈

Words: 1978

"We're going to play Pete the Cat or Sneaky Snacky Squirrel Game, you in?" He shouts at you from the deck.

Lazily lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, you don't bother opening your eyes. As much as you love board games, there's no way you're leaving this perfect spot. Not yet, and certainly not for the next two hours.

"No, I'm good." You shake your head for emphasis, even if you're not sure he can see you.

"Okay lovebug, see you later," he says tenderly before changing his tone, "All right kiddos, get ready to lose!"

You let out a chuckle as Viola and Soren, feeling offended, express loudly their discontent. And you can't help but laugh. You know he's going to let them win anyway. He may be a sore loser who hates to lose and would do anything to win, whether in business or in a game, but things are different when it comes to his niece and nephew. That's just how much he loves them.

Your multi-faceted lover…

To the world, he is Ivar Ragnarsson, the crippled son – and true heir – of the mighty Ragnar Lothbrok, and, till last year – till you – Scandinavia's richest and most eligible bachelor, and all this in spite of his legs.

To his employees and business partners, he's an arrogant, cranky, demanding, cold-hearted, smart as hell, and very successful business tycoon. Oh, if they could see him right now, they wouldn't believe their eyes. No dress shirt, no suit pants, no blazer. With a backwards baseball cap, a basic black tee-shirt and stonewashed jeans, he looks more like a boy than a crafty businessman.

To you, he's the man you've been in love with for eight months; a complex human being, for sure, full of contradictions: so self-confident and yet in some ways so self-conscious; outwardly tough but at times so incredibly vulnerable. You won't lie, he can be infuriating; he's stubborn, strong-headed and short tempered. But he's awfully clever, deadpan and… well... devastatingly handsome, with his impossibly beautiful features and his otherworldly icy blue eyes. He's a fantastic lover too, unexpectedly caring and attentive, loyal and faithful.

To Viola and Soren, his favorite brother's children, he's Uncle Ivar – or Nunky, as Viola calls him – the best uncle ever, funny and mischievous, loving and supportive. He's always ready to go out of his way to teach them all the cool stuff kids are supposed to know; silly jokes, riddles and magic tricks. He's their favorite babysitter, the one who is completely devoted to them, the one who feeds them ice cream and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, before reminding them conspiratorially, with a finger on his lips: "You know the deal, sweet peas! Not a word to your mom."

You remember as if it were yesterday your first meeting with them.

Soren, chocolate all over his face, greets you with a big smile, immediately asking you if you want to play hide-and-seek with them. On the other hand, Viola looks at you from head to toe, scrutinizing you intensely. With her lips pursed and her brows creased, she doesn't seem very pleased, to say the least. The seconds tick by and finally, placing her tiny hands on her hips, the little girl takes a deep breath. "I don't want to play with her. I don't like her." The hostility in her tone can't be missed.

Speechless, you look at Viola with wide open eyes. You usually have a way with kids and are honestly a little stunned by such an unfriendly welcome.

"Viola, please…" Ivar grumbles, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't have time to say another word. "No, Nunky! You told me she was your lover!" Ah, now you're beginning to see her problem, and it brings a small smile on your lips.

Viola points an accusing finger towards you. "Are you Nunky's lover?"

You nod playfully but Viola doesn't seem the least bit amused. "That's why I don't like you. And just so you know, you may be Nunky's lover now, but I'm going to marry him. I just have to wait a little," she frowns, thoroughly concentrated, "I need to be a little older, maybe like… that," she stretches out the fingers of both hands in front of her, "but Nunky is going to marry me. Me, not you. So, you might as well leave right now."

You struggle to hold back your laughter, aware that this is a very serious matter for her.

"Come here, baby girl." Rubbing a hand over his face, Ivar pats his knees and then helps his niece as she climbs onto his lap. "We've talked about this, little bird, remember? We're not getting married, not in ten years, not ever." He speaks so softly, and there's so much love in his eyes, you feel like you're melting.

"But, I lo–" Viola interjects with a pout, but Ivar stops her, shaking his head. "There's no buts, baby love. Uncles do not marry nieces. That's the way it is and that's how it must be. And yes," he looks at you fondly, "Y/N is my lover. But it doesn't change anything. I'm not going anywhere, Viola. I'll always be in your life. I love you." He gently ruffles Soren's hair. "I love you both. You have no idea how much I love you."

You must have dozed off and are awakened by Viola high-pitched squeals of joy. "Oh yeah, let's go into the backyard." Hmph! Looks like you're going to have company. Bye bye peacefulness.

Well, so be it.

Yawning, you stretch like a cat before sitting up. Ivar and the kids are on the deck and you wave at them. Soren casts you a broad smile and takes two steps towards the backyard but Viola stops him.

"Wait, Soren! Nunky," you don't need to see her to know that she's blinking her big, beautiful blue eyes at Ivar, "please, we are tired. Right Soren?"

Viola's brother nods tentatively as Ivar bursts out laughing. "Is that so, munchkin?" Putting on a thinking face, he stares blanky up in the air for a second or two, tapping a forefinger on his chin. "Let me guess, you want a ride, baby girl? Soren, buddy boy, would you mind fetching the princess's carriage for me, please?"

At this point, you know exactly what is going to happen, yet it never ceases to amaze you. And as sure as the sun rises from the east, the next moment Soren is pushing a wheelchair in front of him, coming to a halt next to his uncle. Ivar immediately sits down, slipping his crutch into the intended holder attached to the backrest.

Reaching out, he now gently grabs Viola's wrist. "Your carriage awaits, princess." The little girl climbs very carefully onto his lap before wrapping her chubby arms around his neck.

Ivar pulls her closer, "Hold tight, princess!" and as soon as he's sure she's securely seated, he grabs his push rims and pops a wheelie, Viola bursting with laughter. He then looks at Soren, cracking him a smile. "I'll give you a ride too, bumblebee, stay put."

Soren, older than Viola and always overprotective when it comes to his beloved uncle, frowns, concern all over his boyish face. "You sure I'm not too heavy now? I'm over fifty-five pounds, you know?"

Ivar laughs, an easy smile on his plump lips. "Don't worry, I'll be just fine." A smile tugging up the corner of his mouth and Viola giggling on his lap, he rolls towards the wide wooden ramp leading to the backyard.

Ivar hates using his wheelchair. He despises it. He's very secretive about it. The truth is, it took him two months to tell you that he sometimes needed one and another two months to actually use it in front of you.

He hates it so much that he would rather crawl than use it. Actually, that's what he does every night, after taking off his leg braces.

Yet, he keeps his old wheelchair here, at his brother's house. For recreational purposes only; or in other words for Viola's and Soren's enjoyment. And he gives them rides, up and down the ramp, sometimes for hours, popping wheelies here and there. Because Viola and Soren love that and it makes them laugh. Because he would do everything and anything to make them happy.

That's just how much he loves them.

Ivar pulls a sunbed next to you and flops down on it, stifling a hiss of pain. "Where are the kids?" Raising yourself up on one elbow, you kiss him, your free hand gently stroking the tight muscles of his right thigh.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he kisses you back. "Gathering the things they want to take to the beach."

You want to give him a disapproving look, but you won't. You know better. You know him.

He shouldn't go to the beach. Not today. He woke up in pain this morning. Walking in the sand is a struggle even on good days. He'll pay for it later. You know he knows it. And you know he'll do it no matter what, and whatever it takes.

Because that, he can do.

Sometimes, you catch a hint of sadness in his eyes. When Soren and Viola are running and he can't run after them, because running is simply not an option for him. When they are jumping on the trampoline and he can't join them, because it would end with broken bones. When they are playing football, or riding a bike, or skating. When they are tree climbing, or playing gunny sack race, or rock climbing, or playing hopscotch, or skipping rope, or dancing, or…

But walking in the sand, even if not easy, that, he can do.

He's going to struggle all the way – wincing, hissing, silently swearing, even dragging his right leg with his hand if necessary – until they reach their favorite spot, a small cove shielded from the wind, with marvelous pebbles and smooth sand. And he will sit for hours, his legs aching, making sandcastles even though, even as a child, he didn't like that. Because it doesn't matter. Because Soren and Viola matter. And the sparkle in their eyes will bring a smile to his face. Their laughter will make it all worthwhile.

Yeah, this is what he's going to do, for Soren's and Viola's happiness. And you know there's nothing you can say or do that is going to change his mind.

That's just how much he loves them.

⚔️"What are you thinking about, love?" Ivar's soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"I was thinking what a fantastic uncle you are." You reply genuinely, your thumb grazing his cheek. "And what a fantastic father you will be one day. The father of our kids."

Ivar blinks several times. You know that no matter how many times you tell him, he still finds it hard to believe that you want to make a life with him; marry him; carry his children.

"This…" His voice trembles and he lowers his gaze, "this is really what you want?"

"Of course, it is, my love." You reassure him for the thousandth time, peppering his jaw with light kisses. "Negotiations with Viola will doubtless be tough, though…" You chuckle, your fingers threading through his hair as he nods. "But let me tell you a secret," you can feel his hot breath on your ear, "you've already won, love." He offers you a breathtaking, mind-blowing smile and then his mouth finds yours and he kisses you and it feels like you're alone in the world, nothing matters but your shared love, nothing exists but him, nothing counts anymore, nothing, nothing, nothing...

"NUNKYYYYY!!!!"

Well… You may have spoken too soon…

🛡⚔️🛡

@flowers-in-your-hayr @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @pieces-by-me @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x reader #modern-Ivar #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar fic #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #fluffy Ivar #650followers

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thebonecarver · 3 years

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The Picnic-Feysand Date <3

So happy to announce that me and @wintersouldier57 teamed up and wrote a feysand fic in celebration of both hitting 100 followers! Go say congrats to @wintersouldier57 SHES AMAZING

It had been a long few weeks for the high lord and lady of the night court. Between their regularly scheduled meetings and taking care of Nyx, things had been hard. They had scarcely found any time for themselves in the midst of it, hardly any to just be together, enjoying each other’s presence. When Feyre wasn’t at a meeting, Rhys was in the Illyrian mountains handling the armies with Cassian. When Rhys was home, Feyre was at the art studio. Their schedules never seemed to line up.

They often spoke mentally, providing each other as much comfort as they could in that capacity, but they soon found that even psychic communication had its limits when it came to comforting one another. Feyre missed the way his arms felt around her, the way he would whisper soothing words into her ear when things became too much to handle. She understood that they had their responsibilities to their court. They were high lord and lady, after all. Still, she was restless. She wanted nothing more than to feel his embrace, nothing more than to drown in a pool of the transcendent love he offered her.

There was a dull ache in her heart that she knew only he could alleviate. She longed for him. She had not known desperation so deep since her days before coming to Prythian. That desperation, that hunger, had burned, but never like this. It had seared from the inside out, but never straight from the heart. Not like this did. This killed slowly, she thought, deliberately. She felt as though she had been traipsing around Velaris with half a soul, never quite able to get comfortable anywhere she went.

She would see him today. For the first time in weeks, everything lined up. Cassian and Azriel had agreed to take Nyx off their hands for the day for what Cassian called “much-needed uncle time”. They would pick him up as soon as she returned home for the day.

She was a bit surprised that Cassian had not said anything, no teasing. She didn't say anything though, she did not want to give him any ideas. He probably does not want to lose any time with Nyx, she thought, and chuckled silently.

“What’s so funny my High Lady? Rhysie has some good jokes for once?” Rhysand must have heard that from wherever he was, because he responded in Feyre’s and Cassian’s head, At least my jokes don't have every female in all of Prythian running for the hills Cassian. Feyre laughed harder, Cassian chuckling as well.

“Well have fun you two, and be sure to be home at a respectable time, and PLEASE use a sound barrier, I do not want to have to explain what noises are being heard all over this cauldron-damned city to this little one.” He said in his most “mother hen” voice, and tickled a giggling Nyx in his arms. Feyre glared at him while he laughed, and Rhys must have said something in his head, for he laughed even harder.

“BYE CASSIAN” Feyre shouted, making a beeline to the door. She could still hear Cassian's laughter,

Once she was outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was a nice day, perfect for a walk in the park or a trip to the market squares. Perhaps she and Rhys could take a walk when he returned. She would love nothing more than to walk through Velaris hand in hand with her mate. She missed simple intimacies like that, little touches.

You look simply delectable in that dress, Feyre darling.

He had spoken into her mind. Could he see her? Where was he? She looked around but could not find him. Suddenly, there was a pressure underneath her knees, lifting her into the air. She yelped, surprised that he had picked her up.After the initial surprise, she spoke;

“You should have given me some warning, you prick.”

He chuckled, “Now what would be the fun in that Feyre Darling?”

She tried her best to look unaffected by the nickname, and replied “The fun would be that I wouldn't have to scream and not fall on my face for all of Velaris to see.”

He put on a face of mock hurt. “You really think I would drop you darling? I would never!”

She glared. “Based on what you did last time, I won't trust you for another 1000 years, 900 if your lucky.”

He laughed harder, burrowing his face in my neck, to try and silence it. Once he calmed he breathed in my neck, savouring her smell.

“If I could bottle your smell I would drink it every day.” He sighed, hugging Feyre tightly, as if she could disappear any moment. And to be honest based on how long they had been apart, they both felt as if they would disappear, but thank the cauldron they wouldn't.

Finally, after all this time, they were together. She smiled as she nuzzled closer to his chest. Through the bond, she could feel the pure happiness coursing through Rhys. Her grin widened as she felt the wind blazing past them.

She wondered where he might be taking her. They hadn’t discussed their plans beyond spending the day together. Wherever they were headed, though, Feyre knew she would love it. She would love it because he would be there with her. For the first time in a long while, she was home. An unyielding warmth welled up in her heart in the place of the ravenous longing she had been experiencing before. She was with Rhys now, and all was well, at least for the day.

She looked down and watched the vibrant landscape of Velaris fly by beneath them. She could easily fly herself, but she didn’t want to. At least for now, she wanted to be held by him. Judging by the way his arms were wrapped around her more tightly than usual, it was clear that he was enjoying it too. There was something about him holding her like that. It always gave her butterflies, no matter how long they had been together. Even with the centuries stretching out before them, she could be sure that that would never change. Not this, and not the way they felt for each other. She would always look at him as though he had hung the very stars that shone above Ramiel on the Night Court’s insignia, and he would always look to her and see his darling mate, his salvation.

They continued their flight. When he landed and sat her on her feet, she mourned the close contact. She took in their surroundings. They stood on a hill overlooking the city. From the vantage point, she could see it all. She saw the rainbow and the Sidra, twinking as it reflected the sun’s light. What she took the most note of, though, was the blanket laid out on the grass, a small basket sitting at its center.

A picnic.

Rhys had planned a picnic.

She didn’t realize it was possible to love him more than she already did.

He watched her intently, taking in the shift in her expression. He grinned widely. He loved seeing her like this, happy and content. For once, she looked her age. She looked like the 20 year-old girl she was, and without eyes that looked haunted or scared. Their duties could wait. Right now, as they stood on this hill, things were for once simple. The world was quiet, save for the slight breeze that occasionally brushed against their ears. They were happy. War and politics be damned.

“Happy, my love?”

She looked down to find that her hand was glowing. It seemed that her body was speaking for itself. Instead of answering, she took a few steps toward him, placing her shining palm on the side of his face, stroking his cheek. His violet eyes were alight with the spark of love. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It wasn’t like things had been recently. It wasn’t the quick kiss of someone trying to make time between meetings or the kind of kiss she would give him as she passed him on the way to feed Nyx. The kiss they now shared was sweet, unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world to stand there and relish in what they were feeling.

After what felt like a millenia, he slowly pulled away from her, once again meeting her eyes.

“I’ve missed that,” he said.

“I’ve missed you,” Feyre replied, tears brimming in her eyes. But she was smiling, a broad, indestructible smile that made Rhys look at her in wonder

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Rhys motioned to the blanket.

“Let’s get more comfortable.”

They made their way over to the blanket and they sat next to one another. She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. With his other arm, he reached for the basket, producing several sandwiches and a container of what she assumed was some sort of stew. He sat the food in front of them before he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on her hair.

She knew she was likely still glowing. She didn’t need to look down to know. Rhys picked up one of the sandwiches and held it to her lips. She took a bite, savoring the taste. She quickly realized where she had tasted it before. It was one of the sandwiches from her favorite restaurant. She beamed. Her clever, loving mate had gone there and procured it for her, just to make her happy. She recalled a time when such a thing would have been an ordeal, a time when her former lover had refused to so much as let her leave the house. She wished more than anything that she could go back in time and tell that girl that this was waiting on the horizon, that such a love awaited her beyond all the turmoil.

He put a hand on her hair, lightly stroking it as he held up the sandwich once again for her. She took another bite, turning slightly.

“I can feed myself, you know,” she laughed.

“What kind of male would I be if I didn’t care for my lovely hardworking mate?”

She reached over, grabbing a sandwich and holding it up for him. They spent the rest of the picnic like that, feeding each other bits of food and staring into one another’s eyes. When they had finished their meal, Rhys put what remained back in the basket and pulled her closer, pushing her head down onto his lap as he continued to stroke her hair. They stayed like that for a while, him stroking her hair and occasionally leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had been going on for some time when he finally said, “I don’t know what I’ve done in this life to deserve this. To deserve you.”

She looked up at him. His eyes were tender.

“You do deserve this. You’ve done so much good in your life, Rhys. You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled.

“You are my happiness,” he said, his voice shaky, pressing another kiss to her brow, “and I will spend the rest of this eternity showing you how much I treasure you, my love, my mate, my salvation.”

She looked into his eyes. She wanted to say something, but she was at a loss. No words in her vocabulary could accurately describe what she was feeling, the depth of her affection for the male in front of her. She hoped her face and the glow of her skin said enough. They seemed to, as a moment later he pulled her into a tight embrace.

“My Feyre,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “my light.”

“I love you,” she said. She had never meant anything more.

“I love you too,” he responded, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.

He continued trailing light kisses down the column of her throat, smiling into her neck as he heard her breath hitch slightly. He readjusted, laying her down on the blanket. Her face was flushed as he stared down at her. He knelt down on top of her, pressing a long kiss onto her collarbone.

“Now prepare yourself, darling,” he said, “I’m going to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

She was not prepared.

Tag List:

@feysandandnyxsworld

@that-sociopathic-hufflepuff

@emikadreams

@highladysith

@cardansfae

@aelin-bitch-queen

tagging some ppl who wanted to be in my jealous rhysand fic just in case u wanna se thisss

@live-the-fangirl-life

@story-scribbler

#feysand #feysand fluff #feysand fic #the picnic #feyre #rhysand

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lordymaru · 3 years

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I'm about to refute this entire essay with the simple explanation being:

The only interaction we've seen of these two is when she's a freaking 8 year old. Your self insert shows no boundaries.

And this is probably the last time I'll make a post about the stupidity behind the way the pair is viewed:

Note: I know there's people out there with a brain who ship these two in a more conventional way. In the end you do you, ship whatever you want, no one can prevent you from doing that, just don't be gross about it.

One of the parts being the Significance of their first encounter:

She’s a poor peasant girl who’s suffered immense trauma, suffering, and loneliness. Her initiative to help Sesshomaru came from her generosity

Exactly, she's alone for her family had been killed before her eyes, the villagers treat her like garbage. When she meets Sess he's wounded and simply in a bad state, both mentally and physically. Both of them are, the difference being he's a demon, a powerful one and for him to have ended in such a bad shape only stabbed at his pride- Rin on the other hand is a child, a human tiny child who is vulnerable and to him she poses no threat. Both of them are weak then.

At this point, it’s observable that despite knowing her story, her scars, and her difficulties, humans do not even empathize, let alone sympathize with Rin. It is the feudal era, after all. She’s a young, disabled orphan and the villagers only see her for what she lacks: a voice, a family, and a place of belonging.

Again with your feudal era shit. I can assure you the world is just as ugly today as it was before you and I existed. Next.

When he asks about her bruises, this is the first time anyone had ever afforded her a second glance.

This was a huge step forward for Sess, a huuuuuuge one for he showed interest in another living creature, not just any creature but a human. And for her it was probably like Christmas, for no one had showed her any mercy or interest. Ok you get a point. But oh, boy, how I'm about to spit on the next one:

The audience can see Sesshomaru calculate her body language, recognizing that she is mute. Instead of pressing her further or ignoring her outright, he attempts to comfort her (in his own way), making her feel that it is okay if she chooses not to answer him; that her desire to reply to him should only be a desire, not an obligation. I think, on one hand, that was the first moment of something that would resemble compassion that Sesshomaru had ever administered, trying to put himself in her shoes — if someone had asked him to do something that required, for example, his left arm, he probably would have appreciated them saying “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” so to provide him agency for something that he actually cannot do. And the same goes for Rin. He recognizes her disability, maybe even resonates with it and decides to empower her with a choice. Choice is important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic and it’s a word that will come up often.

Ok why are you comparing the loss of his arm to her not being able to talk? Not all disabilities are the same, you moron. Or am I dumb for thinking this way? If so, feel free to call me out on my lack of common sense kr whatever you wanna call it. Sess physically couldn't do shit with his left arm because well- it was gone! That's a physical disability. Rin had "lost" her voice after what she witnessed and so she wouldn't speak anymore. Have you heard of Psychogenic Dysphonia? If not, you can click here and give it a reading or do your own research. The more you know: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0892199703000158

So you say he "empowers her with a choice" that is "important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic" let me get this straight, a choice because why? She's a child? A female? Because you said so yourself, it's the Feudal Era after all and therefore women had no choice in life, no voice, no agency, no nothing. So he was being magnanimous then? You know... This is where you start edging into the gr00ming territory. Can't you see? No? Alright, moving on.

BRUH WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you fucking good? See how you self insert? Bye. Next

The next time Sesshomaru sees Rin, it is suggested that he actively sought her, whether it be by curiosity or concern for well-being

He did... It is not suggested, he actually did asdfhkl. For both curiosity and he probably was worried. He also states he wants to test out his sword, what a perfect chance to do so for Rin is pretty much dead and that's the only way to make his sword work. So she was both being a guinea pig and an itch he wasn't quite sure how to scratch. Next.

Silence Rin.

Rin screams endlessly, annoying Sesshomaru. Firstly, this is the first time we hear him call her by her name. Secondly, Sesshomaru is visibly annoyed by her noises, however, he does not tell her to “shut up” as he normally would with Jaken or even InuYasha. He simply says “enough of that Rin, stop it.” (In Japanese he says, “Silence, Rin. You make too much noise.”) Even analyzing the Japanese dialogue, it is evidently softer than Sesshomaru’s usual ‘kisama’ (貴樣) manner of speech that we see depicted usually. This is the first time he’s had a companion who is not a demon, someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return. His softer tone is a logical deduction to make.

Ok... "someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return." Bruh... As if he would even consider meeting someone's expectations. Are you sure you're talking about Sess? Another thing is, he always speaks in a calm tone, he rarely yells or loses his composure- he had no reason to be rude to her either, you're excusing his regular behavior simply because she ain't Jaken. Anything else?

Rin doesn't change Sesshomaru overnight, it's a gradual and long process

Well duh!!! Just like you don't lose the pounds you gained from eating in one sit 12 donuts a week ago. Stating the obvious and for what? What's exactly your mf point?

The silence part is important, idk how to tell you there is a power imbalance in their relationship from the moment he tells her to be quiet. He didn't say please, he didn't ask her to, he told her to be quiet. Like a parent would, if I could count the times my mom told me to shush.... That's your first indicator he is not her friend, he is not her equal.

Letting you Be Yourself: The Panther Demon Arc

the first frame the audience sees in the anime sets the scene, painting the Sessshomaru entourage in a serene manner, indicating a level of comfort between group members (episode 75). This is vastly different from our last depiction of Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship. In episode 44, he was unable to withstand her (albeit annoying) childish antics. But here, it’s observable that Sesshomaru can accept her and her package of unconventional fun. Not only does he tolerate and even more so, accept Rin, but he accepts her influence on his vassal, Jaken and allows them to be free around him.

Is called developing patience. I can assure you that when you're a parent or an older bro/sis and your kid/younger sibling is noisy af you either learn to tolerate that or get used to it for kids are kids abd you have to let them be kids. Next.

She's a child, she's not stupid.

The Abducted Rin: Calling her Name

The respect that Sesshomaru shows Rin is insurmountable. However, the InuYasha franchise is clever to portray the subtlety of Sesshomaru’s respect for her. KV on Twitter points out how highly he regards his companion and never relegates her to anything less than the value that she as a person embodies (@KVndie via Twitter). He consistently humanizes her.

He only sees how important she is to him after her ass dies a second time. What do you mean? He respects her enough to not coddle her, she is independent and taught her to be self sufficient from the very start. That's respect. He consistently humanizes her because... She ... Is ... Human! OMG WHAT A SHOCKER!

As Naraku remarks on his hostage to Sesshomaru, "Naturally, the girl you're looking for is not here…,” he continues, “the girl is in custody outside of the castle..." Naraku never makes an attempt to give her personhood, leaving her unnamed, disposable, and relegating her to a mere "girl." But Sesshomaru doesn’t take any of this. He is a cold-hearted Daiyokai, yet he still makes an effort and upholds his principle to refer to her as Rin — not a replaceable “girl.”

Naraku is a mf genius. It didn't quite click until now he wanted to see if she was important or not to him and to what extent. For he planned his moves that way, making people turn against one another. While he wouldn't have made Rin turn against Sess he set everything up so he would end up wanting to kill Kohaku and in doing so, Inugang would have engaged against Sess.

Sesshomaru’s insistence on using Rin’s name isn’t only highlighted in this isolated incident though. It pays off. It is an ongoing theme in their dynamic throughout the series.

That's her name ... How you want him to call her? Baby?

I could go on and on but... This is a fucking essay. And then I stumble against more bullcrap:

The second point I want to highlight here is Sesshomaru’s reaction to Rin’s fall and her risky expedition. At this point, it’s unquestionable that Rin has a special place in his heart.

Of course she has a special spot in his heart. I won't deny that. What worries me is how you're trying to justify the way she's important to him since she was a child. As if his way of seeing her had changed.

I'm gonna disagree by agreeing with you in a few pointers. Kagome and Kikyo were rivals, they both romantically love the same guy. Kagome being the only one who could save Kikyo chooses to help her, knowing damn well Inuyasha would have suffered if Kikyo had died- further more, if it was in Kagome's hands to do something about it.

Rin on the other hand, I will applaud to her how she grew past her fear of Kagura after being kidnapped by her, she saw her body in the river and said fuck it and did her best to try to pull her from the water. I loved how stubborn and brave she was, even tho Sess had to pull everyone out of the water- she deserves a gold star. You go baby girl!!!

Rin later makes a cheeky comment, noting Kagura’s romantic interest in Sesshomaru. Jaken brushes this off as childish naivety. But for the spectator, this establishes two things: (1) That Rin does not see Kagura as a rival for Lord Sesshomaru’s attention, let alone affection; and (2) that Rin is still a child. Rin is certainly a child, with a youthful and fresh outlook on life that brings out the best in people. But even as a child, her relationship with Sesshomaru is incredibly healthy, clear, and surprisingly communicative.

Why would she? She's not a spoiled brat

Nah? I thought her double D indicated otherwise. OF COURSE SHE'S A MF CHILD.

Why do you keep mentioning is healthy? Do you need reassurance of it? Communicative in what way? Cuz if you wanna talk about communication let's talk about how he didn't even acknowledge her ass when she gave birth. He didn't even say her name, didn't even look at her. Tell me now how they are communicative and healthy?

I could go on, I really but all I'm getting from this load of bullshit I'm forcing myself to read is how you do in fact need to reassure yourself thr ship is god tier and is... How you said it was? Ah, healthy.

Anyways, thanks for reading and if you see any typo ... My apologies, I tried. Also if you have any input or I was out of line in some way, my apologies once more.

#anti sessrin #antisessrin #anti-sessrin

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woodelf68 · 3 years

Text

Lessons Learned And Praise Well Earned

@lokijiro prompted: "Frigga regularly reads books to her tiny sons. One day, she realises that Loki can read, even though she hasn’t really started teaching him yet." Loki is around the equivalent of 3 years old here, and let's say Thor is somewhere between 5 and 6. Word count: 5918

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Odin eyed his eldest son. Thor was not usually one to dawdle over meals, but he was quite clearly dawdling now. Since he wasn't putting any more food on his plate, Odin assumed Thor was done with his breakfast, but instead of saying anything he was just sitting there quietly, fiddling with his spoon, as if he didn't want to call attention to himself.

"If you're finished eating, Thor," Odin said, not ungently, but very much aware of the time, "I will walk you down to your tutor." It was not far; they had set up an unused room at the opposite end of the family wing as Thor's new classroom, but Odin wished to personally introduce Thor to Master Egilson and see his son settled in before descending to the lower levels of the palace and beginning his own day's work.

Thor sighed and put his spoon down with a clank and pushed his chair back. He wasn't sure how he felt about starting formal lessons with a tutor. On the one hand, it meant he was growing up and was one step closer to being able to train as a warrior, on the other hand, he wanted to go outside and play as he usually did every morning instead of going to sit in a stuffy old room learning...well, whatever it was that he was going to be learning. He had been trying to take a cautious wait and see attitude towards it all, except every time he looked at his little brother, Loki looked so forlorn at being forced to stay behind in the nursery that Thor felt horribly like he was deserting his brother.

"I'm ready," he said resignedly, standing up without any enthusiasm whatsoever.

Odin got to his feet as well and clasped a reassuring hand on Thor's shoulder. "It's all right to be nervous on your first day," he said. "But I'm sure you'll do well."

"It's not that," said Thor. "It's just that Loki -- "

As if one cue, Loki jumped up from his place at the table, his own breakfast nearly untouched in his unhappiness. "Are you sure I can't come too?" he pleaded, looking at his father. "I'll be good; I wouldn't cause any trouble."

"Oh no, sweetheart." Frigga rose and stepped up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "You're too young. But we'll have fun while Thor's gone, I promise, and it's only for a half day. He'll be back for lunchtime and then you can have the rest of the afternoon to play before dinner."

"But it's not only a half day," protested Loki. "It's a half day every day." He could feel the tears starting to gather on his eyes and his lower lip trembled. "For... forever ."

Odin's lip twitched. "Not quite." He didn't mention that Thor's half days would at some point become full days of lessons, because he could see that Loki was quite distressed enough already. "Yes, your schooling will go on until you grow up, for there are a great many things that you will need to learn as princes of this realm. But you will be able to join Thor in his studies long before that, and then it won't seem so bad, eh? But for now you have your own very important job to do, right here."

"I do?"

"Mm-hm." A few steps took him from Thor's side to Loki, and he bent and reached down, Loki immediately lifting his arms in response. Odin picked him up and settled him on his hip, looking Loki in the eyes. "I know you're going to miss Thor, but your mother was telling me just this morning how glad she was that she would still have you to keep her company while Thor went off to his lessons. And I was glad too, for I don't like to think of your mother being sad and lonely any more than I want you to be."

"Oh." Loki twisted around and looked back at his mother.

"It's true," Frigga confirmed. "I've been looking forward to the chance to spend some time alone with just you, the way I did with Thor before you were born."

"Oh," said Loki again, his brow furrowing. He hadn't thought that his mother might miss Thor, too. "So my job is to keep Mama company? So she's not lonely?"

"It is. Can I rely on you to do that?"

Loki nodded. He didn't want to think of his mother being sad, either. "Yes, Papa."

"That's my good boy," Odin said approvingly, and kissed him before handing him off into Frigga's waiting arms. "Now, Thor." He held out his hand, and Thor slipped his own smaller one into it without hesitation. "Let's not keep your tutor waiting."

Thor took a deep breath, but he did feel a little better about leaving Loki now. He squared his shoulders. "All right. I’ll see you later, Loki.”

"’Bye." Loki gave a tiny wave.

"Have a good day, my son." Frigga went over and pressed a kiss to the top of Thor's head. "Loki and I will come and get you at lunchtime; stay with your tutor until then."

“I can walk back to the nursery on my own.”

“But we might not be in the nursery. And besides, I wish to speak to your tutor this first day and I think Loki might enjoy seeing your classroom.”

“Oh. Very well.”

Frigga waited until Thor had followed his father out of the room before turning and surveying the remains of Loki's breakfast with a frown. "Hey." She jiggled him gently. "Do you think you can eat a little more of your breakfast now? And then when you're finished, we can go down to the garden."

And Loki, his throat feeling less tight than it had earlier, found that he could.

----------

Outside, without Thor to pull him away into whatever game he wanted to play, Loki stayed close by Frigga's side, following her around as she tended to the plants, a subdued and quiet little shadow. She didn't bother trying to draw him out, figuring that would come naturally after Thor returned from his lessons in the afternoon; instead she filled the silence by telling him the names of all the herbs and flowers, and what they were good for -- cooking and medicines and scenting things, teas and potions and dyes. When he roused enough to express interest in the last, she gathered enough material to make up a small dye pot, bundling it with a length of twine and placing it in her basket, figuring she would let him help dye some raw wool and then spin it into yarn for him to play with, a special project just for the two of them while Thor was at his lessons. After that, her clever little son proved he had been paying attention to what she was doing when he began pointing out spent blossoms for her to snip off with her pruning shears, his lower vantage point making it easy for him to spot all those that were closer to the ground.

“Thank you, my darling,” Frigga praised as she bent to snip another dead flower head off, tracing back its stem to where a new bud was forming and making the cut above that. Loki beamed and circled around the shrub, easily navigating the tight space that would have caught at her skirts.

“Here!”

There were three crumbly brown flower heads grouped closely together, half-hidden at the back of the shrub. As soon as Frigga had snipped them off, Loki moved to the next bush, his sharp eyes seeking out browned or drooping flowers, and Frigga had to hasten on, what was usually a leisurely stroll for her turning into an attempt to keep up with Loki’s pointing finger and expectant face as he embraced the hunt like a new game.

“Where next, Mama?” Loki asked as they reached the end of the next row, ready to scamper on ahead.

“Hold, wait a minute,” Frigga said, straightening up and stretching, her back beginning to ache from repeatedly bending over. She thought how much simpler it would be to simply let him snip the dead heads off himself. He was a careful child, far more so than Thor had been at his age, and she thought he might be able to handle a pair of pruning shears safely without hurting himself, at least on the easier to trim plants -- nothing thorny, or that had thicker, woody branches. “Loki, if I could find or have made a smaller pair of shears that would fit your hand, would you like your own pair so you can trim off the flower heads yourself?”

Loki’s face lit up. “Yes!”

“I’ll see if I can find some, then. You’ve been a very good helper to me this morning. What say we do that area under the trees and then go back inside and you can pick out some books for me to read to you?”

Loki turned and skipped backwards in front of her. “When will I get my shears?”

Frigga laughed and dropped her own into the pocket of the apron she wore to protect her clothes. “I’m not sure; I’ll ask the head gardener if they can know where I could get any small enough for you, but I really think the smith might need to make them special. Perhaps in two or three days; it depends on how busy they are. Here, turn around and watch where you’re going; I don’t want you to trip.”

It was cool and pleasant in the shade of the trees after being in the warm, bright sun, but by the time they got back to the nursery, Frigga was ready to pour herself and Loki glasses of the cold lemonade that she had sent for, and then settle herself in the comfortably cushioned window seat, a light breeze blowing in fresh around them. Loki scrambled up to sit beside her with the selection of books he had chosen and leaned into her side, looking at the pages of the picture books as she began to read. When she noticed it was time to go pick up Thor, Loki jumped down and made for the beautifully carved wooden door leading into the corridor, bouncing impatiently on his heels as she put away the books.

“Come on, Mama,” he said impatiently, and Frigga smiled as she pushed the door open and took his hand in her own.

“There, it was not so bad spending the morning with just me, was it?” She swung their arms together as they walked towards Thor’s classroom.

“No,” Loki admitted. “It was nice. Did I keep you from being sad?”

“You did indeed, my darling. Thank you.” She saw the door at the end of the hall had been propped open and released Loki’s hand, pointing. “Go on.”

Loki ran ahead and into the room, his eyes quickly finding his brother already standing next to a small desk and talking to a pleasant-looking young man. “Thor!” He threw himself at his brother.

A wide grin split Thor’s face as he caught his brother up and lifted him briefly from his feet in an exuberant hug. “Loki! I missed you!” Lowering him back down, Thor put his hands on Loki’s shoulders and turned him towards his teacher, beaming with delight. “Master Egilson, this is my brother Loki.”

“Hello, Prince Loki,” the tutor said with a smile. “Your brother has been telling me a lot about you.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. According to Thor, you’re the best little brother in the entire kingdom.”

Loki flushed with pleasure.

“What about me?” asked Frigga from the doorway, smiling. “Did I rate a mention?”

Master Egilson turned and bowed respectfully to her. “You did indeed, your Majesty.” He picked up a paper covered in Thor’s blocky writing from his own, larger desk and read from it. “ My mother is the queen and she is very beautiful and very kind. Everybody loves her .”

Frigga felt her own cheeks pinken. “Oh. Well, what else have you been doing all morning besides saying flattering things about your family, Thor?”

“We did reading and writing and numbers and Master Egilson told me the story about how Asgard was created.”

“I can write,” Loki informed the tutor.

“Can you?” Master Egilson smiled and fetched a clean slate, laying it on Thor’s desk along with a piece of chalk. “Do you want to show me?”

“You don’t have to -- “ Frigga began.

The tutor shook his head. “Nonsense, I would be pleased to see the skills of a future student.”

Loki climbed up onto the chair, kneeling on the seat, and picked up the chalk. The tutor wasn’t surprised to see him begin to write his name -- it was the first thing most children learned -- but instead of scrawling “Loki” in large runes over the whole of the slate, they were unexpectedly small, and neat. He saw why as Loki started a second tidy row underneath them, hesitating briefly over the cross stroke of the nauthiz rune before angling it in the correct direction and finishing up. Loki Odinson , the slate read. The youngest prince glanced up at the tutor expectantly.

“Very good,” Master Egilson said warmly, and meant it. “Your parents must be proud of you.”

“We are,” Frigga assured him, and held out her hand towards Loki. He scrambled down from the chair, looking pleased with himself, and took her hand.

“Can we go now?” asked Thor. “I’m hungry.”

“We may, and lunch should be waiting for us as soon as you wash up. Master Egilson, may I have Thor’s paper to keep?”

“Of course.” The tutor handed her Thor’s writing practice sheet, smiling and tousling Thor’s hair as he took his place at his mother’s other side. “You have good boys; Norns willing, I look forward to many years of teaching them.”

“They say mothers are prejudiced, but I quite agree with you. I couldn't wish for any better.” Frigga smiled down at her sons. “Good day, Master Egilson. Come on, boys.”

Thor chattered animatedly all through lunch, telling them all about his lessons and what he had learned of his tutor. Master Egilson had an older sister, and a young nephew and a niece on the way. His parents were bakers. He, Thor, liked him very much. After they were done eating, Frigga took up a basket of needlework and led her sons outside to the wide lawn, where Thor immediately took off running, calling to Loki to chase him. Loki shot off after him, and Frigga simply sat watching them for a while as they ran about yelling, Loki’s screams of delight just as loud as his brother’s every time that Thor turned and chased after him, Thor deliberately keeping just behind his brother for a while before speeding up and swooping Loki up in a hug that tumbled them both to the ground. When Thor had burnt off the worst of his pent-up energy from the morning, he began practicing his latest accomplishment, setting his hands to the ground and kicking his legs up into the air in a handstand, managing a few wobbly steps forwards before toppling back to the ground. Loki, of course, tried to imitate him, and Thor ceased his own efforts to help, holding Loki’s legs straight up while Loki walked forwards on his hands. Frigga heard him cheer Loki on and felt as if her heart would burst with love for both boys.

“I see the princes are in high spirits today,” a voice said from behind her.

Frigga turned and saw the Lady Gná, and smiled, gesturing to the place on the bench beside her. Lady Gná sat down gracefully.

“They are; they were kept apart from each other for the entirety of three hours this morning while Thor had his first lessons with a tutor and are still rejoicing in their reunion.”

Lady Gná laughed. “How did the lessons go?”

“Quite well, I think. Both the tutor and Thor seemed cheerful enough when I collected Thor. And I think Loki will benefit from having some time where my attention isn’t split between the two of them every day.”

“Mm.” Gná took out her own needlework from a bag hanging at her waist. “I dare say you might enjoy the break, too, or am I wrong? Meaning no disrespect, but your Thor is a boisterous one.”

Frigga laughed and finally took out her own project, although her eyes rarely left the boys for long. “You’re not wrong. Loki was such a blessing in more ways than one; I can’t imagine the handful Thor would be if he didn’t have a brother to play with. It at least gives me a chance to sit down occasionally and just keep an eye on them.” She took a few stitches in her embroidery and smiled in reminiscence. “No one was happier than Thor when Loki started walking -- and I’m sure Loki learned as early as he did because he wanted to keep up with his big brother.” She glanced up again and grinned. “And now look at them.” Both boys were, briefly, upside down at the same time, legs waving in the air.

Lady Gná laughed. “Truly we have a pair of ambitious and talented princes. Who amongst us can say we sought to learn to walk on our hands once we had mastered doing so on our feet?”

Frigga chuckled, and then gave a small exclamation as Loki overbalanced and thumped down hard onto his butt, knocking Thor over as he did so. Nonplussed, the boys righted themselves and looked towards her.

Loki ran over. “Mama, Mama, did you see me? I was standing upside down on my own!”

“I did indeed; we were both very impressed.” She ruffled his black hair. “You remember Lady Gná, don’t you? Sif’s mother?”

Thor made his best bow. “My lady.”

Loki looked around, as if to make sure the aforementioned girl wasn’t here. “Sif bit me,” he said accusingly.

Lady Gná sighed. The last time she had brought her little hellion over to play with the princes had not ended well. “I haven’t forgotten, Loki, and I am sorry. We are trying to teach her better manners, I promise you.”

“See that you do,” he said sternly, and it was so obviously a phrase that he had picked up from his father that both adults had to smother a laugh. Loki leaned against his mother’s legs, suddenly tired now that he had stopped moving.

Frigga smoothed a hand over his curls. “Ready for your nap, sweetheart?” With the disruption in their usual schedule, she’d been waiting to see when and if he looked like he needed one.

Loki frowned. He usually had a nap after lunch, but he also had usually had the whole morning to play with Thor.

“Here,” said Lady Gná briskly, rising and putting her needlework away. “Why don’t you just lie down on the bench and lay your head in your mother’s lap? Close your eyes for a few minutes and if you don’t feel sleepy, then you can get up and start playing again. I shall take a bit more of a walk while Sif is down for her own nap.”

Frigga looked up at her friend gratefully. “Thank you, Gná, and tell Sif hello from me. Come on, Loki, that sounds like a fair suggestion, doesn’t it?” She patted the space beside her, and after a moment, he climbed up and settled himself as suggested.

“Just for a few minutes,” he said.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Thor promised, and went in search of a stick with which to practise sword moves. Frigga began to sing softly, and her youngest was asleep in her lap before she’d finished the last verse of the song.

The days fell into a routine. In the mornings, Frigga enjoyed her time spent alone with Loki, working in the gardens or reading to him or pursuing any other paths his interests went down. He had his own specially-made gardening shears now, sized to fit his small hands, and was careful never to put them away dirty. And she’d shown him how to dye wool, and how to make a simple braid from the yarn she’d spun from it, and he had yet to grow tired of wearing the yellowy-green bracelet he’d made from it. In the afternoons the boys played together, and Loki would take a short nap, and then after dinner, they would usually spend some time at the child-sized table in the nursery where the drawing paper and other art supplies were kept, although Thor was now also using it to do small assignments for his tutor on occasion. Frigga often saw their fair and dark heads bent close together, but one night when she came over to see what they were doing, Loki quickly pulled a blank piece of paper over whatever it was he had been working on, and Thor straightened back up in his chair, a list of vocabulary words in front of him.

“Are you making a surprise picture for me?” she guessed.

“Yes,” said Loki, and looked at her expectantly until she took the hint and left them to it. She did get a picture later that night, but she couldn't see why he would have been hiding it; it was fairly similar to his usual offerings, though no less cherished and saved for that. But since whatever was absorbing her boys' interest was giving her an hour or so of peace and quiet every evening, she was perfectly willing to leave them to it.

----------

"Always be polite to a bilgesnipe, there’s really no call to be rude; Always be polite to a bilgesnipe, and he might not decide that you’re food!"

Frigga gave a little "rawr!" in Loki's ear as she read to him from one of his favourite picture books -- the words and pictures silly enough to delight a small child while still conveying the importance of good manners -- and he giggled from his position in her lap, where he was curled up quite happily. A few weeks into Thor’s new schedule of morning lessons, Loki now sent him off quite cheerfully in the mornings, seeming to enjoy the time alone with Frigga as much as she did, seeing her little boy open up about all the things he was interested in now that he didn’t have to wait for a chance to be heard amidst Thor’s chatter. And he obviously relished being able to choose more than one book everyday for storytime, more than content to sit still and listen long after Thor would have gotten restless and begun interrupting with commentary or jumping up to enact out exciting portions of the stories that he’d chosen.

Frigga turned the page and kept reading until she got to her favourite set of pages in the entire book, the illustrations showing a larger boy boosting a smaller one up so that he could reach the plums hanging from a low tree branch. What made the pictures especially endearing to her was the fact that Thor, years ago, had very carefully coloured in the smaller boy's hair -- originally fair like his own -- so that it matched the black of his new little brother's.

"Always be nice to your brother, remember to say 'thank you' and 'please', and if you are nice to your brother, he'll help you pluck fruit from the trees!"

"'Might help'" corrected Loki, pointing at the page. "You left out a word."

Frigga looked at him in surprise. His finger had hovered directly above the word "might".

"You're right," she said. "So I did." Thoughtfully, she turned the page. "Can you read this one?" she asked.

He could, not perfectly, hesitating on some of the bigger words, but he was undoubtedly reading. Frigga hugged him tightly when he had finished reading the rest of the book, Frigga helping out whenever he stumbled on a word. "I am so proud of you! When did you -- " Yes, he had been pointing at and asking about some of the words in the books lately, but -- “Oh! You and Thor, in the evenings! Has he been helping you with reading?”

Loki nodded. “The more I learn now, the less I’ll have to catch up on when I start lessons. So Thor and I can study together.” His chin jutted out with determination, and Frigga’s heart melted as she hugged him again, already planning to do the same to Thor as soon as she saw him next. It was the walking all over again, Loki not wanting to be left behind, and Thor doing everything that he could to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Well, you have made a very good start of it, and now that I know you’re ready to learn to read, I’ll help you with it every day, too.” Her eyes sparkled. "Shall we practice a bit, and surprise your father tonight?"

Loki's face lit up with pleasure at the thought. "Yes, please."

----------

“Papa!”

Two small bodies ran at Odin as he entered the family quarters and collided with his legs. He leaned down to hug his sons, the cares of the day slipping from his shoulders in the face of the boys’ happiness in seeing him. It was always one of the best parts of his day.

“Hello, boys. Did you have a good day?” He straightened up and ran a smoothing hand over each boy’s hair.

“Yes, Papa,” they chorused.

Odin looked at them closely, Their smiles seemed even brighter than usual, a certain simmering of excitement under the surface suggesting that they had something to tell him. “Well, let me freshen up and you can tell me all about it at dinner.”

However, once they were all gathered around the table in their private dining room and tucking into a delicious meal, Odin began to wonder if he’d been mistaken when nothing unusual was mentioned when they shared what they’d been doing during the day. That is, until the boys finished eating ahead of everyone else and didn’t ask to be excused, merely sitting and waiting and watching him. Odin took his time enjoying his dessert, once more sure that something was going on as Loki began to fidget in his chair. But it wasn’t until he leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh that Loki looked at his mother hopefully.

“Now, Mama?”

Frigga smiled. "Yes, now."

Loki jumped down from his chair. "Would you like me to read you a story, Papa?" he asked, nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Don't you mean you want me to read you one?" Odin asked.

“No, I’m going to read it to you,” Loki said firmly.

“Ah, very well, then,” Odin said indulgently, thinking that Loki was simply going to recite it as best as he could from memory; Norns knew he was pretty sure he had the entirety of some of the boys’ most favoured books stuck in his own head. “Shall we adjourn to the nursery, then?” He got up and Thor immediately jumped up as well, Frigga rising more gracefully with one of her cryptic smiles on her face and taking his arm when he offered it.

“Papa, does “adjourn” simply mean “to go”?” Thor asked. He knew its general meaning from what Master Egilson called the context of a sentence, but he was learning to pay more attention to the specific meanings of words.

“It means, in this case, that we are moving from one place to another. It can also be used to indicate the stopping of a meeting to be resumed later, for instance “the meeting is adjourned until after lunch”.”

“That’s how Master Egilson used it the other day,” said Thor thoughtfully. “He said classes were adjourned till the morrow.” He liked the sound of the word; it sounded grown-up and important.

Odin nodded, Loki ducking under his arm as he pushed open the heavy door into the hallway and dashing ahead to wait impatiently by the nursery door. “That is a correct usage. Go see if you can help your brother.” He watched as Thor and Loki both put their hands to the nursery door and leaned in, managing to push it open between the two of them. Loki ran to get his book and Odin went to sit down in his usual chair facing the hearth, Frigga taking the other. Thor plopped down on the rug in between them and picked up one of the three dimensional puzzles from the basket on the hearth, fiddling with it.

Loki came back with his book and Odin took it, setting it down next to him before leaning over to help lift Loki up onto his lap. Loki squirmed around for a moment until he was tucked comfortably in the crook of Odin’s arm and held out his hands.

“Ready.”

Odin gave the book to him and Loki opened it and began to read. And Odin’s eye widened as he realised that Loki was indeed reading it, no doubt helped by the familiarity of the verses, but not missing a single word on any of the pages. Occasionally he paused, but never for long, and Odin looked from the book to the expression of concentration on Loki’s face to Frigga, whose cryptic smile had given way to one beaming with pride. Even Thor, sitting at his feet and listening, grinned up at Odin when Loki finished the book in triumph.

"Loki can read!" Thor announced needlessly. "Did he surprise you?"

"He did indeed." He looked back down at Loki, who was gazing up at him expectantly. "That was very well done, Loki; I am most impressed. I didn't even know that your mother had started teaching you to read yet."

"I hadn't," said Frigga dryly. "He partly picked it up all by himself, just following along when I read and asking the occasional question -- and partly because Thor has been helping him ever since he started his own lessons, because Loki doesn’t want to waste any time catching up once he’s allowed to join him.”

Odin looked from one son to another in amazement. Mine, he thought with a fierce surge of pride. My boys. He spared a second to think scornfully of Laufey, and what a fool he had been to so casually throw away the great gift he had been given in Loki. His now, though, and he would make sure that Loki’s intellect and talents were nurtured instead of wasted.

“I am so proud of both of you,” he said warmly. “You, Thor, for helping your brother, and you, Loki, for learning to read so early! My clever, clever boy." Giving him an extra tight squeeze, Odin kissed the top of Loki's head and saw the tips of Loki’s ears redden in shy pleasure at the praise, but he was grinning as he gave a little wriggle of delight in Odin’s lap. Odin decided to tease him a little. "Does this mean that you won't need me to read you any more stories now, though?"

"No! I like it when you read them to me too," Loki hastily assured him.

Odin’s eye twinkled. "Very well then. Why don't you pick out another one and I'll read it to you and Thor this time."

"I'll get one!" Thor jumped up and raced over to the low bookshelves that held their books. "Is this one all right, Brother?" He pulled one out and held it up for Loki to see.

Loki nodded, too content with his position in his father's lap to get down and pick out another. He drew his legs up and turned so he could lay his head against his father’s chest, Odin’s arm tightening around him and holding him secure. Thor came back and offered the book he’d chosen to his father and leaned comfortably against the side of his chair, folding his arms atop the chair’s leather-padded arm and resting his chin atop them.

“I Want To Be A Warrior,” Odin read. The book’s cover showed a young boy looking up at a man clad in the armour of the Einherjar. The book spoke of what it meant to be a warrior, to swear oneself to the defense of the kingdom, and went on to describe all the things a boy training to be a warrior would learn as they grew to manhood. Thor had already memorised what all the different pieces of armour and the different types of weapons were called with all of the single-minded focus that a young child could turn on something that they were deeply interested in.

“I want to be a warrior,” Odin read. “I want to serve my realm, and my king. I will fight to protect my home, and my people.”

“I must be strong ,” recited Thor. “I must be brave." His eyes were bright with fervour.

Glancing at him, Odin had no trouble imagining his son grown tall, clad in bright armour and with a sword sheathed at his side. Thor listened with rapt attention and an occasional interjection, and Odin had reached the unlabeled illustrations near the end of the book which allowed a boy to test his memory before he wondered if he should have been involving Loki more in the reading of this book. He glanced down at his son, but Loki looked contented enough snuggled against him, his head resting right over Odin’s heart and a sleepy half smile on his face. A soft smile touched Odin’s face in return as he remembered learning that trick, that an unhappy baby could be soothed by the sound of their parent’s heart, recalling all the times he had half-dozed off himself in the nursery with a sleeping babe sprawled atop his chest, afraid to move lest he wake them before he could return them to their cradle or cot. Loki especially had seemed to crave that close contact even more than Thor had, and Odin had often wondered darkly in those early days how long Loki had lain there alone in that temple before he had found him, before Loki had learned the sound of his father's heartbeat and that it meant comfort and safety and no longer being alone, even before he had learned the sound of his mother's. It still filled Odin with satisfaction that even now, with Loki happy and flush with accomplishment and the success of his surprise, that his son obviously found comfort in the sound, in his presence. He rubbed Loki’s back gently; he would miss it when his boys were no longer small enough to hold entirely within the safety of his own arms.

“Papa, turn,” Thor prompted, when he realised his father had become distracted.

“Hm? Oh, sorry.” Odin turned the page and Thor touched the illustration of a sword, moving his finger along it as he named the parts of it.

“Pommel, hilt, crossguard, tang, blade,” Thor rattled off, no doubt dreaming of the day when he would have a real sword of his own.

“Very good,” said Odin, and briefly ran his hand over Thor's silky hair as Thor moved on to enthusiastically list all the various types of polearms shown on the facing page. Glancing up, he saw Frigga watching them with the same deep contentment in her eyes that he could feel in his heart. No doubt one day both their sons would be fine, strong warriors. But for now, he liked them exactly the way they were.

#loki #thor #odin #frigga #ficwoodelf #lokijiro #marvel fic #lessons learned and praise well earned #tumblr prompt fics

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swordofpevensie · 3 years

Text

As I've seen it again, here are my favorite things about Prince Caspian (2008):

warnings: It is a very long post and I can't help but swear sometimes.

• How Caspian is confused all the time.

• Prefossor: “Don't use that until you really need to use it.”

Caspian: *Uses it the first time he is in danger.* Good job boy, good job.

• “Phyllis.” “SUSAN!” (Lucy does the same thing in tvodt *emotional voices*)

• That disappinted look in Susan's eyes when she sees Peter fighting, and they way she doesn't do anything to help him. Like girl they are beating your brother??

• Edmund comes and saves Peter by simply jumping on everyone who is trying to hurt Peter. We love a clever and quick boi™

• Lucy's little comfort to Peter. *sniffing*

• Peter's iconic hair, that rebel and sassy hair.

• “I'm not touching you!” “I'M NOT HOLDING YOUR HAND!”

• How happy they are at the beach and the way they finally can have pure fun. *more sniffing*

• Narnia is so beautiful in summer and Pevensies look so beautiful too.

• And for my own please, I'll mention how beautiful Peter looks when he is playing in the sea and walking among the ruins.

• The way Lucy holds Peter's hand to show him the way and THE TORCH SCENE GETS ME EVERYTIME.

• Everyone is like where the hell are we and Lucy is just enjoying her apple.

• And again for my own pleasure, I'll mention how beautiful Susan looks.

• “wHiCh cHeSs sEt?” “whOt?” We love a one confused king.

• That shot when they all stand in their places in the ruins and Peter says “Cair Paravel.” I'm like YES SIR I'M READY TO SACRIFICE MY WHOLE LIFE FOR YOU.

• I'm lowkey attracted to General Glozelle. (shameful sniffing)

• I like it that Edmund is the first one to figure out what might have happened to Cair Paravel. And our confused king is again like “whOt?”

• C'mon Peter is very committed to make a torch and it is SO CUTE. And Edmund watching him is so funny, he is like ‘I'm about to end this man's whole career.’

• I'll not tell my thoughts on the time Peter takes his sword. I'm trying to be a good. *choughs*

• Boom! “Drop him!” YOUR QUEEN IS BACK YOU IDIOTS! OOOH HOW I LOVE SUSAN.

• Peter jumping to the water and Lucy using his dagger to cut the ropes.

• “High King Peter, the Magnificent.” I mean if I were magnificent just like him, I'd tell it loud very frequently too.

• Edmund using sword... 10/10 His final pose 20/10. *chefs kiss and sniffing*

• “Or do I have to sit on your head again?” Narnians and humor? Count me in!

• Caspian's accent... YES SIR.

• “I'm Prince Caspian... The tenth.” and “High King Peter, The Magnificent.” are cousins and you can't tell me otherwise.

• “Running away.” Oh just come into my arms you sad and broken boi. *too many sniffings*

• Proffesor inside: Eheheh they are back. You are a dead man now Miraz.

• That underwater shot... 10/10. Peter paddling... 10/10. All of them sitting in silent, sadly... Okay this one hurts A LOT.

• “We didn't mean to leave you know.” *no more sniffing i'm crying*

• Lucy greeting and trusting in a bear is me vs. life. Susan saying a bear to stay away from Lucy is me vs. life again.

• Peter helping Lucy to stand up and her hugging Peter for comfort.

• And that bear scene is very clever to me. It shows that those bad times have an effect on everyone. How even Narnians, kind, gentle, happy Narnians turned into wild creatures because of bad times. Also Susan not killing the bear immediately shows how gentle she is and she always gives a chance.

• “I can hear you.” We love a done™ prince. And him asking questions about Narnia is so cute!

• That zoom to Caspian's face is kiLLING ME.

• AND REEPICHEEP I'd kill and die for him unless he kills and dies for me first.

• CENTAURS ARE BACK!!! Oh I love them so much.

• “You can't carry a map in your heads.” “That's because we have something in them.” LUCY DIDN'T STUTTER.

• “i'M nOt lOst.” My baby tries so hard I love him bye.

• “OH SHUT UP!” is one of my favorite Peter lines. Also he is very sassy and why is no one talking about it?? (I'll talk about it later btw, eheh)

• IF SOMEONE BELIEVED AND LISTENED TO LUCY THE FIRST TIME SHE SPEAKS, THINGS WOULD BE SO MUCH BETTER AND EASIER FOR ASLAN'S SAKE.

• And Edmund supporting Lucy? We love a supportive and cute brother.

• Caspian is so brave and the speech he gives... *CHEFS KISS* I mean I would fight and die for him too. And when Narnians believe in him, I cry even more. (++Ben Barnes' voice in that accent... Gets me every freaking time).

• The look in Peter's face when he sees the making of the bridge. He is like “Not my kingdom, you bitches!”

• The conversaion between Lucy and Susan... I hate to think their struggles, adjusting to Narnia, adjusting to England.

• Lucy telling a tree to wake up is me vs. life, again.

• The way Peter just comes and hides her out of nowhere... WE LOVE A PROTECTIVE BROTHER.

• When Caspian and Peter fights... Okay, for your safety I'll shut up but the way Peter is ready to hit him with a rock is both funny and shows how a quick and smart fighter he is.

• “PETAH!” Okay Susan, we get it honey.

• “Well if you like, we can come back in a few years.” LIKE WHY IS NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT HIS SASS??

• “You were right to fear the woods.” IS. EXCELLENT.

• Caspian and Peter walking in the front and talking casually. My heart goes *butterlifes* *looove*

• When the papa centaur rises baby centaur's sword... *a loud sniff* .

• I love that there are pictures of Pevensies and Golden Age on the walls. It makes me feel so majestic.

• Caspian: *dramatically lights fire*

• They are looking at The Stone Table and Caspian in the back is like look at the mess you made.

• When Peter and Caspian talk at the same time.

• “There is always a first time.” THAT. SASS. AND CONFIDENCE.

• “We could collect nuts!” “Yes, and throw them at Telmarines!” Reepicheep... Love you babe.

• Okay the whole castle stuff is so freaking cool until the last minutes. Like Edmund and his torch, Susan and THE WAY HE KILLS A MAN BY THROWING AN ARROW.

• But... Caspian babe, kill your bastard uncle anyways.

• And it just should be said: I love how Narnians are always ready to sacrifice themselves because freedom is much more important than their lives. They are not afraid of death as long as it means to get freedom back.

• That poor cat... I don't know what to say.

• You are attacking a castle and your baby Caspian just casually knocks the window.

• Professor doing his best to help Caspian escape and then seeing him back in the castle again... I mean a disappointment level I can relate.

• I wish I could be woken up at night by Caspian, with a sword on my throat? Depends on my mood.

• Miraz being so done is a mood.

• They all are in Miraz's bedroom like:

• Edmund literally headbutts a man wearing a metal helmet. I am speechless.

• You don't have sword? Don't worry you have a torch... just don't break it.

• Reepicheep and his friends pushing that thing makes me cry and scream.

• “Who exactly are you doing this for Peter?” THE LOOK ON PETER'S FACE.

• When Peter screams “FOR NARNIA!”

• My Queen Susan throwing an arrow to man and killing him despite his armour. I. LOVE. ONE. POWERFUL. QUEEN.

• Sometimes I wish I was an minatour.

• Edmund kicking that dude's head by sliding. A simple and powerful move.

• OKAY SO MIRAZ PUSHING THIS MINATOUR IS VERY PERSONAL TO ME. AND I AM VERY PISSED OF.

• And that minatour holding the door. I love you, you strong and scary baby. And I always will.

• When Edmund casually jumps back, I hear Blow Your Mind by Dua Lipa playing.

• That moment when other Narnians are trapped inside and Peter and Susan watch them... MY BABY PETER HAVE HAD ENOUGH PLEASE LET HIM REST. And Edmund seeing the dead bodies...

• That agressive “HEY!” from Caspian and the way Peter and him just scream at each other, idk what to say but it is sort of funny.

• When mama centaur cries, you know I'm dead on the floor.

• King Miraz getting on his throne... Sassy and majestic af. He is a psycho but you know he has taste.

• “What do you want? Congratulations?” Okay Caspian put that sarcasm down babe.

• When my mom watched the scene where The White Witch sort of comes back for the first time, she was like “Not that bitch witch again.”

• The way Peter pushes Caspian is skcjskfsj MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY

• And Edmund killing the wolfish thing is so cool, he is a very talented warrior. Also him stabbing Jadis, he gives like zero fucks.

• And when the ice is broken, they see Aslan on the wall and it is such a strong scene!!

• Can someone please explain me why Miraz and his men wear those freaking helmets?

• “And she won't be alone.” WE. LOVE. ONE. SUPPORTIVE. AND PROTECTIVE. SISTER.

• No, Caspian you may not, no matter how hot you say Miraz.

• Edmund in Miraz's place... Just perfect. That sass, that confidence, that intelligence. THAT look on his face.

• “Your brother's sword is sharper than his pen.” It is an adage in Turkish btw: “A pen is sharper than a sword.”

• “Or hooves.” Lucy, was that joke really necessary honey?

• THE LOVE OF MY LOVE AND MY ONE TRUE LOVE PETER SAYING “WELL, FEEL FREE.” AND “JUST. ONE.” WITH A BRAVE LOOK ON HIS FACE IS THE CAUSE OF MY DEATH.

• Queen Susan standing on her own, holding her bow to hunt men... YES. QUEEN.

• Proud brother™ Edmund.

• The way Peter snarls at Miraz. I mean I WOULD SURRENDER TO HIM.

• AND MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION FOR PRAISING WILLIAM'S ACTING? He fights amazing and his expressions are both beautiful and real. He makes you feel what Peter feels. I just love the way he portrays Peter.

• “Keep smiling.” King Edmund just knows things.

• And the way he just doesn't listen Peter and fixes his arm... 10/10

• When he hits Miraz's wound. He is a smart fighter, and I'll not even bring up how he stabs Miraz.

• “It's not mine to take.” Me inside: *MINE IS YOURS TO TAKE.*

• Caspian just stop screaming and kill this bitch for Aslan's sake.

• “Not one like you.” WITH TEARS ON HIS BEAUTIFUL BLACK EYES. I HATE HIM SOMETIMES.

• Although I hate that they have to fight again, what the Lord did was really smart, I have to admit.

• Have I told you that I hate that ball-throwing-machines?

• Queen Susan telling archers to get ready and Prince Caspian telling “Narnians, attack!” while riding his horse. ALSO WHAT THEY DID WAS SO CLEVER. PETER COUNTING WITH THAT BRAVE FACE.

• My baby Peter fighting again. And Caspian coming out of the underground. *CHEFS KISSES*

• KING EDMUND RIDING A HORSE AND ARROWING PEOPLE?? MORE CHEFS KISSES.

• Reepicheep's tiny armour OMG

• I HATE THAT BALL-THROWING-MACHINES.

• When they all run again (Not to mention Peter has to attack and fight like for like the hundredth time) THEY LOOK FREAKING GOOD AND MAJESTIC AND KING EDMUND CUTTING MEN IS PER.FECT.

• I AM IN STRONG NEED OF HUGHING AN ASLAN.

• THE TREES ARE COMING BACK HELL FREAKING YESSS!!!

• Queen Susan killing with this bows and arrow is just perfect. I love her. Like so much.

• Ooh there is shield wall? Don't worry Narnians will jump on it.

• Peter proudly saying “Lucy,” and looking at Caspian like “Hehe did you expect that?”

• And my baby yells “For Aslan!” and goes to fight. AGAIN.

• Lucy and her dagger? FREAKING DANGEROUS. RUN AWAY.

• Welcome water grandpa, you are very cute!!!

• Aslan is like hehe this is my friend. He is very proud of his friend.

• The guilt on their faces when they see Aslan is so cute.

• “All of you.” SHUT UP YOU MADE ME CRY AGAIN.

• OH AND REEPICHEEP. PLEASE I LOVE HIM SOOO MUCH. HE'S HAD ENOUGH.

• Aslan calling him “Small one.” awWWW

• “Do you see him now?” QUEEN LUCY NEVER STUTTERS.

• Okay but the way they all look perfect during the parade. Caspian's crown and Susan's dress are my favs.

• AND THAT LOOK ON SUSAN'S FACE. IT KILLS ME.

• What the hell is Caspian wearing when Telmars go back?

• There is a talking lion in front of them and Telmarines still are amazed by a turning tree.

• Peter looks so good in blue and him giving his sword to Caspian is awwww again.

• Peter and Susan are the ones who'll not come back again and they both wear blue while Lucy and Ed wears green.

• Peter shaking hands with the centaur is an another awwww.

• The kiss makes me feel weird but I'm alright with that.

• “I'm 1300 years older than you.” is CUTE TO ME.

• Peter's proud brother smile. 10/10

• The way Lucy looks back at Aslan breaks my heart.

• THE ENDING KILLS ME. DESTROYS ME. VANISHES MY EXISTENCE. THAT LION ROAR. THAT SONG. OH HOW I LOVE THIS MOVIE AND NARNIA MOVIES... I AM CRYING AGAIN.

oooh okay, thank you for sharing this emotional roller-coaster with me. i hope you enjoy it.

love, andrea.♡

#narnia #the chronicles of narnia #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #peterpevensie #edmundpevensie #lucypevensie #susanpevensie #high king peter the magnificent #king edmund the just #queen lucy the valiant #queen susan the gentle #prince caspian #princecaspian #caspian #caspian the tenth #prince caspian movie

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s-creations · 3 years

Text

Oh, That Imagination

Kids will always have active imaginations. But how the adult handles it depends on what the child is afraid of.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros Rating: General Audience Relationships/Pairings: José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Growing up, Uncles with their Nephews, Facing Fears, Worries, hunting a creature, Krampus (character), giving a speech, watching a scary movie, protecting the boys, the passing of time, names OCs.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author Note: I finished Student Teaching and passed my Content Test, so I’m getting back into writing! I do have a new job lined up for the school year. We’ll see how consistent I stay with uploading. XD

“Unca Donald, Unca Donald, Unca Donald!”

Even with the loud warning call, Donald still staggers when something blue collides against his leg. “Dishes! I’m doing dishes. Go and sit on the counter please.”

6-year-old Dewey gave a quick nod before clamoring up. The older duck impressed by how quickly the duckling could climb.

“Now, what can I help you with?”

“Benny said there’s a-a monster living in the sewage of Duckberg! I wanna go catch it!”

Donald let out a low hum as he washed the soap from the glass. This was twice in two weeks that neighbor Benny had told some story about some ‘creature’ they had seen. Dewey, always on the lookout for new adventures, ate each story up with determination and gusto.

“I see, very interesting. What does this monster look like?”

“Like...Like an alligator. Only bigger!”

“Ooooh, that sounds scary. And you’re going to catch them all by yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Well, aren’t you brave. Are you going to bring them back to be studied for science?”

“I’m gonna do it to rub it in Huey’s face. Cuz he says the creature isn’t real. But I’m gonna prove him wrong!”

“It sounds like your afternoon is full.”

“It sure is! Oh, wait, I wanted to ask you if we have a large net that I could use?”

“I don’t think we have a ‘large’ net. You’ll have your bug catching net.”

Dewey let out a contemplative hum. Hand resting on his cheek while his pointer finger tapped out some unknown tempo. A habit he picked up from José. “That’s not great. But I suppose it’ll have to do.”

“Look at you compromising. What are you going to use as bait?”

“Do we have any old lunch meat?”

“No and you’re not using what we have in the fridge.”

“You’re ruining the search Unca Donald! I need bait.”

“How about you take Tio Panchito with you? He had to help his grandpa search for farm animals when they got out of their pens. Didn’t have to use bait to get those animals back.”

“Tio worked on a farm?” Dewey’s eyes lit up hearing this new piece of information.

“Spent a few childhood Summers there.”

“What did he do?”

“Why don’t you go and ask him? I’m sure he would be more than happy to share stories with you and your brothers.”

“Okay, bye Unca Donald! I’m gonna learn about cows!”

Donald silently laughed as Dewey raced out of the kitchen. Childhood stories continued during dinner and only ended when the triplets were put to bed.

“So...should I question why Dewey furiously ran at me this afternoon? All while screaming his demands for me to tell stories?” The rooster asked as Donald joined him and José on the living room couch.

“Apparently, Benny had seen some ‘creature’ in the sewer system. Dewey determined that he was going to hunt said being down. I told him you would help in the search because you’ve helped with finding lost farm animals. That caught his attention and now you know the outcome.” Donald sighed as he leaned against the other, relaxing.

“Do you think the thrill of the hunt will call out to Dewey tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.” Donald replied back simply.

The hunt did not call out the next day. Dewey focused on creating a backyard zoo, he didn’t have time to worry about some creature. A few days later, a pet iguana was rescued from the neighborhood sewers. It appears Benny had actually seen something. It just wasn’t the towering creature he’d claimed before.

________________

The holidays were busy for all the adults in the household. Donald focused on getting the shopping done and holding down the fort while the ducklings raced around during their school break. Gleefully talking about Santa and what present they’re excited most about. José would be gone for weeks on end leading up to December 25, helping with numerous flights to make sure he had that day off. Starting from October through December, this time saw Panchito with booked weekends of different performances to help get other families into the festive feeling.

Even with having busy and exhausting schedules, they made sure to make time for the triplets. Baking, decorating the house, helping them pick out gifts for the other family members. Every year it was the goal to keep the ducklings as happy as possible.

Which is why Panchito became worried when 7-year-old Louie started acting...strange. Almost what the rooster would call ‘stressed’.

The duckling had started being overly helpful around the house. Doing more tasks than what would be required. Going out of his way to ask if he could help. And, most worriedly, he’d become quiet. Not in his normal way of just relaxing in front of the television. But almost fearful that he was being listened to by some unseen stranger. Eyes even darting around as he moved through the apartment.

Unfortunately, Panchito wasn’t able to approach this possible problem until a weekend late into the duckling’s break.

The rooster let out a sigh as he collapsed onto the couch. Thankful that he was done until the New Year’s celebrations he had the coming weekend. But he was able to relax for the rest of the week to celebrate Christmas. Cautious footsteps drawing closer caused Panchito to open his eyes. Finding Louis standing nervously in the middle of the room.

“Hola Louie, what can I do for you?”

“Um, do you need me to get you anything?”

Panchito raised a brow. “No, I’m fine. Why don’t you join me until dinner’s ready?”

“Oh, um, that’s okay. Maybe I should see if Uncle Donald needs any help.”

“You’re on break. Why don’t you just sit for a while?” The duckling frowned, eyes darting around before settling onto the couch. Still tense. “So, how has school been? I haven’t heard you and your brothers talk about it for a while.”

“Uh...good.”

“Just good? ...Try out any new schemes lately? I know Uncle Donald isn’t so thrilled when you do that. But you always have such clever ideas, makes me laugh.”

“Nope, I’ve been good! No crazy plans from me!”

Panchito sat up a little more when Louie started shouting at the ceiling. “Okay Louie, what’s going on. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at school?”

The duckling dressed in green wrung his hands as he peered around.

“...Abby told me about the Krampus…” Louie eventually whispered.

“The who?”

“The Krampus! He’s the opposite of Santa Claus! A big creature with long horns and wears a cloak! And he comes after bad boys and girls! He takes them away in his large, greasy bag and they’re never seen again and-”

“Okay, Louie, come here. You’re getting yourself worked up.” Panchito easily and quickly moved the duckling onto his lap. Wrapping arms around the smaller form to help keep Louie grounded. “Breath with me. We’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

Louie gave two quick nods. They remained this way for a few minutes, Panchito holding the duckling close and controlling his breathing for Louie to follow. The rooster only pulled away when Louie had calmed down enough to talk. “Okay, so, you were told a scary story. Why are you worried?”

“Because he goes after bad kids and I know I’m...not good.”

“Why would you say that? You’re a wonderful kid!”

“But I get the most detentions and I’m lazy and I know I don’t do my homework when I need to and-”

‘Louie… Yes, we would like you to work a little harder than what you do now. But you’re not bad. You...take risks. You have a point of view that I’ve never seen before. You’re a clever kid. And, well, between you and me.”

Panchito leaned closer. Louie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “You fight the system and you don’t let them beat you down.”

“...Does that mean I don’t have to wash the dishes?”

“Don’t push your luck. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not bad. You just think differently than others. Plus, if you’re this worried, this might be a sign you should help out more. But I doubt any Krampus will come after you.”

“Really?”

“Really… Also, you know your uncles and I would beat up any creature who dares try to hurt you.”

Louie laughed. Beaming and squirming as Panchito placed a kiss on his cheek. Christmas Day arrived with no mysterious creatures knocking in their front door. Louie was still safely tucked away in his bed. Joining his brothers with running out to the living room and unwrapping presents. Curling next to Panchito as all enjoyed the afternoon glow while watching a marathon of movies.

________________

Huey took to the Junior Woodchucks like a duck to water.

From day one it became a large part of his identity. He carried his handbook around with him everywhere. Writing his own notes and entries to add to the already thick volume. Gleefully patting his knees as he patiently waited for whatever uncle was going to take him to the weekly meetings. Even learning how to iron his uniform to keep it in tip top shape.

Dewey may complain that the eagerness was annoying. But nothing seemed to damper Huey’s spirit.

Until Huey was tasked to write a speech. As he was top ranked among the troop, he was given the honor of addressing the new member that would be joining that year. A banquet being held with the duckling presenting a speech of his own at the beginning of the event. The duckling was absolutely thrilled at first. Telling everyone he could about the great honor bestowed onto him.

All in the family thought he would triumph over this just like many other things in his life.

José was humming softly one evening, making his way to the kitchen when he heard sniffing coming from the bathroom. The door opened a crack and, taking a risk, José peered in. He found 8-year-old Huey, curled up by the tub and far away from the door. A stack of paper was at the duckling’s feet. Red rimmed eyes glaring at said stack.

“Huey?”

Said duckling’s head snapped up hearing José. Wiping his eyes frantically. “T-Tio José…”

“Criança doce, what is wrong?” José entered, leaving the door open in case Huey wanted out.

The duckling sniffed weakly. “...I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“My speech…”

José frowned, knowing how excited Huey had been only a few days ago. “Can you tell me what you are scared about?”

Huey let out another sniff. His hand starting to hit the side of the tub as time went on. Which José put a stop to by reaching out to take the duckling’s hand. “I’m scared...that people are going to laugh at me. I keep practicing my speech to make it perfect and I read a bunch of tips but… All I can think about is messing up and people mocking me. Then my scout leader will see me as a failure and strip me of my badges and-”

The parrot pulled the duckling closer, humming a lullaby softly. Huey instantly clung to José, burying himself away in his guardian’s chest. It took a few minutes before the duckling finally relaxed, slumped against the older, hand still keeping a good grip on José's shirt.

“Huey, I would like for you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” José received a nod, “I will help you with your speech. But you have nothing to worry about. Your scout leader seems to be nothing of the kind who would take away what you’ve achieved. And no one will laugh. We all know you will be doing your best.”

“...But what if my best isn’t enough?”

“It always will be Huey. Never doubt that.” José peered up hearing the floorboards creek. Finding Donald standing in the doorway wearing a look of worry. The parrot gave a quick shake of his head. A silent message that he had a handle on the situation. Donald gave a nod of his own before sneaking off. “Feeling better?”

“...A little. I’m still scared.”

“That is fine. How about we make some cookies? I think I saw your Uncle Donald heading that way before. And while we are doing that, you can show me your speech.”

Huey sniffed weakly. Pulling back slightly to look up at José. “Chocolate chip?”

“Of course.”

The duckling smiled weakly and nodded. Donald greeted the two with wide arms and a smile when they walked in. Huey beamed as he was picked up and given a sturdy hug from his other uncle as José started the process. But uncles gave Huey their undivided attention when he gave his speech. The other members of the family joined them as the cookies started to bake. Dewey and Louie keeping their ‘helpful’ comments to themselves and clapping along when Huey finished.

At the night of the banquet, Huey beamed as he gave a flawless speech. His family cheered the loudest.

________________

“This is such a bad idea.”

9-year-old Louie huffed, rolling his eyes as Huey bemoaned at his flawless plan. “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then don’t watch.”

“But I want to see it.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“The movie is PG-13! We need parental guidance to watch.”

“You know they won’t let us watch.” Dewey added.

“But-”

“You get two options here Hubert,” Louie interrupted. One hand holding up a finger to keep Huey quiet. The other holding the latest zombie movie that had just recently been release to DVD, “You either watch with your mouth shut. Or you leave and keep your mouth shut in the bed while you listen to the amazingness that is this movie from the closed doors. What’s it going to be?”

Huey frowned. But he ‘zipped’ his bill closed and crossed his arms. Which the green-hoodied triplet took as keeping his mouth shut. With a nod, Louie popped the movie in and sat next to his brothers. All three were huddled together in the closet. Eyes glued to the small t.v. screen that was crammed in with them as well. The movie menu soon appeared and Dewey pressed play.

Donald let out a content sigh as he relaxed further between his partners. Panchito clinging to him as Donald’s head was tucked under the rooster’s chin. While José was curled up at Donald’s side, using the duck’s chest as a pillow. That night was quiet and calm. There was a weekend ahead of them that was just filled with nothing. A relaxing time with his partners and kids. It was going to be great…

A chorus of screams sounded from the triplet’s room. All adults were up and racing out in only a few seconds. Even hard to wake José was on full alert. Donald reached the door first, flinging it open. Fully expecting to see an intruder standing in the middle of the bedroom. Only to find Huey and Louie, sobbing as they clung to each other on the younger triplet’s bed. Dewey was waving his plastic sword at the open closet. His entire being was shaking as wide, fearful eyes were on the open space.

“What is going on here?” Donald called out over the noise.

“There’s a zombie in the closet!” Louis answered.

“It touched me!” Huey added.

“I’m fighting it off!” Dewey finished.

“What- okay- Dewey stop swinging that around!” Panchito walked over and pulled the sword from the duckling. Collecting the blue cladded triplet as he continued to shake.

Donald gathers the other two. Both of them desperately slings to the protection that was their uncle. José took to the closet, making sure it was empty. The parrot raised a brow, finding the t.v. that was still on and playing a movie.

He reached in to eject the movie and brought it out for the other two to see. “Donald.”

The duck looked it over. Frowning, seeing the topic, letting out a slow breath. It was clear the triplets were in no condition to have a stern talking to. Plus, he was honestly too tired to worry about it at the moment. “Okay...let’s go back to our room.”

The other two adults nodded. José turned off the lights as he was the last to leave the boy’s room. Donald rested himself back into the middle of the bed, only with more bodies pressed around him. Panchito cleverly left the bedside light on before he laid down on the bed, Dewey resting on his chest. The triplets flinched when José walked in.

“It is just me.” The parrot assured.

Donald let out a sigh as he gently preened the top of each head. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get you.”

The bed was pressed further down as José laid down. Huey clamoring over into the parrot’s hold. Donald was free to wrap both arms around Louie. Three voices began to hum a familiar lullaby in hope of calming the triplets further. Even with their comforting presence, it took awhile for the three to fall asleep. It was not the way Donald wanted to start his weekend. But he should have known nothing he plans ever goes his way. Even with this hiccup, he was happy to have his family close. Falling asleep with a smile on his face.

Donald was able to take his pent up frustration on the idiot who had allowed children to rent a horror movie. Panchito coming as back up to make sure the duck didn’t kill anyone.

#donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchito pistoles #The Three Caballeros #the three gay caballeros #s-creations

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wintersouldier57 · 3 years

Text

The Picnic - Feysand

So @thebonecarver and I wrote this to celebrate hitting 100 followers a few days ago!! Thank you to everyone who has followed us! 😊

“BYE CASSIAN” Feyre shouted, making a beeline to the door. She could still hear Cassian's laughter,

You look simply delectable in that dress, Feyre darling.

“You should have given me some warning, you prick.”

He chuckled, “Now what would be the fun in that Feyre Darling?”

She tried her best to look unaffected by the nickname, and replied “The fun would be that I wouldn't have to scream and not fall on my face for all of Velaris to see.”

He put on a face of mock hurt. “You really think I would drop you darling? I would never!”

She glared. “Based on what you did last time, I won't trust you for another 1000 years, 900 if your lucky.”

He laughed harder, burrowing his face in my neck, to try and silence it. Once he calmed he breathed in my neck, savouring her smell.

A picnic.

Rhys had planned a picnic.

She didn’t realize it was possible to love him more than she already did.

“Happy, my love?”

After what felt like a millenia, he slowly pulled away from her, once again meeting her eyes.

“I’ve missed that,” he said.

“I’ve missed you,” Feyre replied, tears brimming in her eyes. But she was smiling, a broad, indestructible smile that made Rhys look at her in wonder

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Rhys motioned to the blanket.

“Let’s get more comfortable.”

He put a hand on her hair, lightly stroking it as he held up the sandwich once again for her. She took another bite, turning slightly.

“I can feed myself, you know,” she laughed.

“What kind of male would I be if I didn’t care for my lovely hardworking mate?”

She looked up at him. His eyes were tender.

“You do deserve this. You’ve done so much good in your life, Rhys. You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled.

“My Feyre,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “my light.”

“I love you,” she said. She had never meant anything more.

“I love you too,” he responded, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.

“Now prepare yourself, darling,” he said, “I’m going to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

She was not prepared.

#acotar #acotar fic #feysand #rhysand #feyre #feyre x rhysand #feysand fic #i love these two so much

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forevfangirlwrites · 3 years

Note

Hiiiii

So… I just gonna said I love the actress Au it just amazing and I don’t say this that easy but it true so… I had a really bad week, like panic attack really bad panic attack and after that I was also very sad and didn’t want to do noting but at some point I thought “ I can go and read that fan fiction it always make me happy “ so I did that and it boost my mood so I know this may sound dumb but it is true so thank you.

I have also a prompt but feel free to ignore if you don’t liked, so is based of some video I seen about boys who do very cheesy stuff for their girl like, if they don’t feel good like go and buy their favorite snacks or something like that, I would like see Percy go out and buy all Annabeth favorite things and prepared a nice movie night after she texted him or called and he sensed she sad or something, I don’t know but I thinks he would do that

(Also anyone how read this take cere of you mental health )

Bye 🤍

( if is there some errors I’m very sorry still struggling writing in English it not my first language and I learned just by myself)

The text message simply reads: very clever.

He frowns at his phone. Not the usual kind of response he gets to the little jokes he likes to text her throughout the day. Sure, this one had been pretty clever: What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question? But her response is still…off.

Worried he’s done something wrong, he meekly opens the door when he gets home later that day.

“Annabeth?” he calls out softly when he’s met with a seemingly empty apartment. Shutting the front door behind him, he peers into the kitchen and bathroom of the small place before stopping in front of the bedroom door.

He slowly turns the handle, revealing a mostly darkened room.

“Annabeth?” he repeats, more quietly this time. Moving towards the bed, he sees her asleep, clutching his pillow tightly. She looks peaceful but the way she’s gripping the pillow tugs at his heart.

It’s clear today had been a Not Good one.

Letting her rest, he backs out of the room, picks up his keys, and walks out the front door once again.

She has a particular affinity towards those chocolates with fudge in the center so it’s his first stop once he gets to the drugstore.

He can’t solve her problems, but maybe some of her favorite chocolate will help.

At least he hopes so, making his way down the snack aisle. Barbeque chips and root beer wouldn’t hurt either, probably.

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing here, if he’s being honest. A need to do something, anything, had stirred in him when he’d seen her lying like that.

So of course, his brain went to food.

Before he can overthink any further, he decides to head to the checkout. Only to get distracted by some face masks hanging at the end cap.

It’s been a while since Annabeth has last done one, but he thinks that these might be similar to what she usually gets.

The packaging says ‘refreshing,’ though, and he figures that it couldn’t hurt, so he throws a few into his basket.

But staring at the odd assortment of items, he hesitates resuming his course to the checkout. He was just gonna get snacks but with the addition of the facemasks, he feels like he needs…something else.

He wanders the aisles aimlessly, at a complete loss of what else to get until he notices a woman pick up a candle.

Maybe that’s what he needs.

(It takes him five minutes to pick one out because there are entirely too many scents to choose from).

More confident in his purchases, he finally makes it to the register. It’s still a weird assortment of junk food and spa things but he thinks she’ll like it.

He hopes so, anyway.

When he returns home, a flicker of light from the open bedroom door draws him in.

She’s sitting in the relative dark, laptop pulled up in front of her, highlighting the shadows under her eyes.

“Annabeth?”

She looks up at the sound of his voice, face visibly tired in a way that hurts his heart even more.

“What took you so long?” It’s not accusatory but there is a sense of…something…maybe longing? behind her words.

“Sorry.” He holds up the bag. “I stopped to get a few things for you.”

She frowns, pushing away her laptop and turning towards him. “What things?”

He hands her the plastic bag, and watches as she rummages through it.

Silently, she takes out every object and lays it out on the bed. His worry grows at her lack of reaction.

When she finally looks up, her face is unreadable.

“Do you…do you like it?” he asks, nervous that maybe he’s made things worse.

She crawls off the bed and stands in front of him.

“Percy…” she starts. He waits expectantly for her to continue but she doesn’t say anything else. A second later though, she’s launching herself at him and he wraps his arms around her as she presses her face into his neck.

They stand like that for a while until she whispers into his ear. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“I know,” he murmurs back, running a soothing hand up and down her back.

“I really just need you.”

His heart melts at her words and he just hugs her even tighter. He’s always going to be there for her.

“You okay?” he mumbles into her hair.

She just shrugs, confirming his belief that it hadn’t been a good day. But she’s smiling when they pull apart and he thinks that even though he can’t fix everything, he’s made it a little better.

She tugs him towards the bed and five minutes later finds them cuddled up against each other, eating chocolates while a lemon vanilla scent fills the room.

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! I’m so honored to hear that my fics make you happy and help in some way! That is truly all I can ever hope for! I hope that you like this and that it’s what you’re looking for! (And you never have to apologize for your English! It’s so kind of you to put in the work to send me such a lovely message as it is!)

#percy and annabeth #percabeth #percabeth fic #fluff #fanfiction #thanks again for the prompt!#:)#ask #smile

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch48: The Terrible Twos Part 1: More?

Intro: In the fourth year since the snap, Jamie enters the terrible twos.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this chapter is kind of a little different to the others here really, as it’s almost like a collection of long drabbles detailing their life over 2022. And just a little reminded, Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns…keep that in mind! Also linked to this chapter is a smutty little One Shot- Got You By The Chain- Guest writer @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 47

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

April 2022

By the fourth anniversary of the Snap, it finally looked like society was moving on. There was still a lot to do, but most schools and Universities were fully functioning, TV shows and Movies were back in production, restaurants and shops seemed to have gotten back to some level of ‘normality’. Whilst places weren’t as buzzing as they had been, it seemed like people were finally taking those baby steps forward, which was the mantra Steve continued to preach at his support groups.

If only it was that easy to follow your own advice.

Steve, and the rest of those of them who had fought Thanos and been spared, would be lying if they said their failure wasn’t still at the back of their minds. But nothing short of a time machine was going to bring any of those stones back. They had to learn to live with it, and for the most they did, their lives had moved on. Tony, Pepper, Steve and Katie had become parents, so they had something to focus on. Natasha, however, was all over the place, focussing even more with Rhodey on trying to track down Clint, the archer having given his vigilante alter-ego a name- Ronin-the word taken to be an idiomatic expression for “vagrant” or “wandering man”, someone who is without a home- or so Katie’s research told them.

‘Ronin’, was still leaving trails of death and destruction all over the place and both Steve and Katie had tried to coax Natasha out of pursuing him too much. As usual, she completely ignored them and had also point blank refused to attend any of the support groups. In the end Steve had stopped asking.

He and Katie found most of their time taken up dealing with Jamie who had entered what the parents now knew why everyone dubbed the terrible twos. He was a nightmare, not necessarily due to bad behaviour but he was so boisterous and such a rough and tumble little boy thanks to the half of him that held the super serum and he was ridiculously clever too. He was constantly up to mischief, which was why now, one Thursday morning Steve was stood in the kitchen, an equal mixture of exasperation and fear flooding his system as he gazed up at his son who was once again sat on top of their large stainless steel fridge freezer, about a foot out of his dad’s reach. This was his favourite activity at the moment and neither Steve nor Katie had no idea how he kept getting up there.

The soldier was currently torn between grabbing a chair to climb up to get him down and being rooted to the spot, not wanting to move in case the tot threw himself off which he was prone to doing.

“Jamie, please come on.” Steve sighed.

“No.” “I’ll give you a cookie if you get down.” Steve pleaded, cursing inwardly at the fact he was resorting to bribery. Jamie cocked his head to one side, clearly weighing up his options and then his face split into a grin.

“Nom!” He grinned and then in a flash launched himself forward.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed, forgetting his language as he stepped back, catching the toddler in his arms, heart in his mouth. Jamie giggled as his dad’s strong arms caught him.

“Don’t do that!” Steve sighed. “Please.” He added weakly.

“Fuck.” Jamie repeated with a laugh and Steve groaned.

“No, we don’t say that.” “Why?”

“It’s a bad word.” Steve explained setting him on the counter in front of him. “Only momma and daddy can say that. And even then we shouldn’t.” He reached for the kitchen cupboard, undoing the child lock before he grabbed the jar and held out a cookie for Jamie.

“Fankoo, Daddy”

“You’re welcome, but that doesn’t mean every time you climb something you get one.” Steve looked at him sternly.

Jamie stared back at him, his mouth full and Steve knew they boy didn’t care one iota about the utter horror he had just put him through. A fact further emphasised when the tot raised his right hand and held his forefinger and middle finger to his eyes, moving them towards his dad.

“Yeah, I am watching you, pal.” Steve arched an eyebrow at him, mentally cursing Tony once again for teaching his son ridiculous habits. “You done?”

Jamie nodded. “More?” “Not a chance.” Steve snorted, lifting him down off the counter and herding him into the living room where he distracted his boy successfully for an hour and a half or so watching Frozen, his current favourite Disney film whilst he checked over his notes for the support groups he was holding later on that afternoon. Then he gave Jamie his lunch, meals being the most painless part of his routine as the kid ate anything you put in front of him, and they set off to meet Katie at the tower.

“Hi Mr Rogers, Hi Jamie!” Soraya, Katie’s PA, greeted them holding up her hand. Jamie leant over the desk in his father’s arms and gave her a hi-five.

“Hi, Sowaya!” He beamed and she smiled back before she turned to Steve. “She’s in the office but you might wanna wait a few seconds before you go in.” Steve was about to ask why, when he heard his wife’s angry voice through the closed door and he grimaced. Someone was getting an absolute earful and he didn’t envy them one bit.

That someone, was Jack Thompson, Katie’s Finance Manager. As part of Stark Industries programme to help orphaned older teenagers post the snap, Katie had given the go head for each major department to recruit interns to give them a spring start and a means to fund themselves. Only for the third day in a row now she had caught Jack ordering his intern to make coffees for the entire office. Not that it wasn’t part of an intern’s initiation, she understood that, but when she had drilled the girl a little more, it seems that was all she was doing, along with photocopying.

“That is not what the programme is about!” She blazed as she leant forward over her desk, Jack lounging in the chair at the other side. He raised an eyebrow at her and that made her bristle even more. “Sorry, I’m not sure what is amusing you about this situation.”

“Nothing, Mrs Rogers.” He shrugged back. “I just think you’re overacting slightly.” “Oh do you?” She asked, her voice raising further. “Well here’s an overreaction for you, you get that girl some proper jobs and activities to work on or you’ll be out of here faster than my two year old can scale the fridge.” Jack frowned

“Which is fast” Katie clarified, realising that there were all sorts of things wrong with that analogy.

“Things were a lot different with your brother at the helm.” Jack looked at her. Katie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well I’m not my brother. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave your resignation letter on my desk.”

Jack eyeballed her for a moment before he nodded. “Understood, loud and clear.” “Good.” She stood up whilst he did the same and she smoothed down her white A-lined high wasted skirt and white blouse. Her black stilettoes clicked on the wooden flooring of her office and she opened the door, nodding out of it. Jack left, not even glancing around until a small voice rang out across the room.

“Momma shouted!” Jamie giggled gleefully. Jack stopped, looked at the boy, then to Steve who simply smiled at the man before he stalked away.

“Jerk.” Katie mumbled under her breath before she beamed at her boys. “Hi!”

“HI Momma!” Jamie grinned, wriggling until Steve popped him down and he ran to his mom to give her a hug. Steve had a split second to perve on his wife, because damned she looked good in that office outfit, before Jamie was in her arms, his mom not caring if his shoes or hands were going to dirty her clothes. She placed a kiss to his cheek as Steve walked towards her dropping one of his own onto her lips.

“Yuk!” Jamie pulled a face.

“So what had he done to earn himself the full wrath of my baby momma?” Steve jerked his head towards the door and Katie groaned.

“Just being awkward when it comes to the interns. I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” “Good.” Soraya shot. “He’s a creep.”

Katie grinned. “So you tell me.”

Soraya shrugged. “I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

“Hmm.” Katie pondered, before she shrugged. “What’s my diary like for the rest of the day?”

“You’re clear now until four and then you have a conference call with a couple of potential authors for SIP.”

“Why don’t you do it from home?” Steve looked at her. “You were here at seven this morning.” Katie pondered before nodding. Placing Jamie on the floor she headed back into her office and grabbed her jacket and her bag, before linking her hand round her son’s.

“If anyone needs me, can you tell them to email or call my mobile, please?”

Soraya nodded “See you tomorrow, Mrs Rogers. Bye Captain, bye Jamie!”

“Bye bye!” Jamie waved as Katie led him to the elevator, Steve holding his other hand.

“You had lunch?” Steve looked over at her and she shook her head.

“It’s been manic.”

“Good, because neither have I. Thought we could grab something before I head off to the group.”

Katie grinned and leaned up to give him a kiss. “Perfect.” “Lunch?” Jamie piped up and Steve looked down at him.

“Buddy, you ate an entire bowl of spaghetti at home.” “But, I’m hungry.” He pouted and Katie looked at Steve.

“He gets that off you.” She smirked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Who does he get climbing the fridge off?” He asked.

“Again?”

“Yeah, had to bribe him down with a cookie.”

Katie snorted. “Well I don’t know about the climbing bit but he definitely gets the negotiation skills from me”

“It wasn’t a negotiation.” Steve scoffed, as the doors opened on the ground floor “It was out and out extortion.”

Katie laughed as they stepped out into the reception, heading to the front doors which opened automatically.

“Let’s go to the deli round the corner.” She suggested and Steve nodded, positioning himself on the outside of the sidewalk as always, Jamie on the inside of his two parents as they slowed their pace to allow their son to walk the block or so round the corner.

“Momma?” He asked tugging on hand. “Yes baby?” “I haff tuna?”

“If you want tuna, yeah.”

At that point Steve, who had been watching the two of them, turned and almost walked straight into another pedestrian.

“Oh, sorry Ma’am.” He nodded to her at the same time Jamie uttered.

“Fuck.” Katie stopped dead and turned to look down at him, her voice growing stern. “James Anthony Samuel Rogers, what did you just say?”

He blinked up at her as Steve groaned, crouching down in front of his son. “I told you that was a bad word.” He softly chastised the two year old.

“Sowee Momma,Sowee daddy.” Jamie’s eyes looking down at his feet as he toed the sidewalk slightly with his little sneakers.

“Thank you for apologising.” Steve ruffled his hair as he stood up. “Don’t say it again.” “Okay.” “Where did he hear that?” Katie looked accusingly at Steve and he hesitated for a moment.

“Tony?” He shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Katie narrowed her eyes. “You’re still a terrible liar.”

******

June 2022

“Now don’t go mad Spangles.” Tony immediately greeted Steve as he shut the car door and headed across the lawn area to the side of the lake house. Instantly Steve narrowed his eyes.

“What have you done?” He asked, following Tony down a well-trodden path to the back of the house where a small play tent was erected.

“Nothing.” Tony shrugged, as Steve followed him round to the back of the house. “Well, nothing bad, just…”

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” Steve heard Morgan speak before she popped her head out of the tent, and held her left hand out in front of her. She was wearing a red glove with some form of battery powered light strapped to the palm. Before Steve could comment, Jamie followed, the same item on his right.

“Pew pew!” He grinned, making the noise at his dad. Steve took a deep breath and scowled at Tony.

“Really?”

“Hey look, it was this or the actual gauntlets so,” he shrugged and then Steve really did give him a glare. Tony held his hands up. “I was in the garage tinkering and they saw them and wanted one of their own so…”

“Iron Man!” Jamie grinned up at his dad “Look Daddy, like Unca Nee!”

“And I suppose those just have to come back to my house with the pair of them tonight?” Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony. “You know, I can always refuse to babysit.”

“Err, no you can’t.” Tony smirked. “First off we had Jamie last night so you and Katie could have a night alone, and second off…” “Uncle Pangles!” Morgan threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his legs. “We can play tonight, I stay at yours!”

“…you can’t resist her Stark charm.” Tony smirked as Steve sighed, bending down to give his niece a kiss on the head.

Katie tried not to laugh at the look on Steve’s face as he recounted the incident later that evening as they sat out in the back round the fire pit torching S’mores with Emmy. Jamie and Morgan were fast asleep in Jamie’s room.

“Well Dad,” Emmy sat back and looked at him, her brown eyes flashing with mischief, “sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire…”

“What you got in mind?” He looked at her.

“We’re pretty good at art, right?” She shrugged and Steve nodded. “Let’s put it to use.”

So the next morning, as soon as the hardware shop opened, Emmy and Steve were in there gathering supplies for the Great Rogers Revenge plan, sharing a victorious hi-five whilst they loaded the trunk of the car up with their ammo. Katie told them she didn’t want to know what they were planning and she meant it, steering clear of Steve’s man-cave for the rest of the morning, calling them back to the house at eleven ish for a coffee and a slice of banana bread when Natasha dropped in. The two women could hear Steve and Emmy sniggering as they approached and when they walked into the kitchen, Katie was greeted by the pair of them holding up their finished items.

“Oh my God!” Natasha spluttered. There was a slight pause, before Katie cracked up laughing as Steve and Emmy held up their masterpieces. They had painted the insides of two small metal trash can lids to look like replicas of Steve’s shield.

“I got the idea from a picture in my history books.” Emmy said, grinning “Some young kids in a Brooklyn street after the war, playing with the lids like they were shields…” “Perfect handles to hold them with, look.” Steve grinned, flipping his round “And they’re spray varnished too so the paint won’t rub off.”

“Cap!” Jamie shrieked as the sight of the items Steve and Emmy were holding.

“Wow!” Morgan looked up in awe “Is one for me?” “Sure is, Moo.” Steve bent down and showed the two children how to grab the shield with their hands on the handles and, once he was confident they had got it, they shot out of the back door and down onto the grass, Lucky leaping up from where he had been snoozing under a tree and heading inside out of the way.

“Just do me a favour and don’t show teach ‘em to throw them.” Katie sighed, watching as Jamie was busy holding his shield in front of him as Morgan aimed her faker repulsor beam clad hand at him.

Steve shook his head, grabbing a piece of cake. “No point, we tried and it doesn’t work. They don’t have the same weight or trajectory.”

“Yeah, they just kinda hover for a bit and then fall down.” Emmy shrugged, her mouth full of banana bread. “This is good, mom.”

“Thanks.” Katie smiled “Nat you want another piece?”

“No thanks.” she shook her head, “don’t wanna ruin our lunch.” “Lunch?” Steve paused, the slice of cake halfway to his mouth.

“I told you last night,” Katie rolled her eyes, “me and Nat are off for lunch and shopping.”

“You wanna come Em?” Nat asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I wanna be here when Uncle Tony picks these two up.”

She fist bumped Steve and Katie shook her head at the pair of them.

“Well, I do not. Gimme two mins Nat and I’ll grab my shoes.”

**** “So, Steve and I are taking the kids away in a month or so, why don’t you come with us?” Katie asked as they sat in a small tapas bar, just off Times Square. Nat pondered for a while before she shook her head.

“I can’t leave the compound.”

“Why not?” “If something goes wrong, I need to be there.” “Nat,” Katie sighed, “it isn’t your responsibility. The Avengers, we’re not…” Natasha cut her off, “Don’t, please,” she shook her head, “it’s my job. If I can help in even the smallest of ways then I should.” Katie bit her lip before she reached over for her glass of water. She understood that in all fairness, Steve had gone through his own phase of feeling useless not long after the snap but had found his niche for sure with the support groups. If this was how Nat was dealing with it then…

“Anyway, enough about that.” Nat changed the subject. “Tell me more about the delightful language my God-Son has been learning.” Katie groaned. “Did I tell you about the whole, oh Fuck thing a few months back?” “Yeah.”

“Well a few nights ago we’re sat at the table and he suddenly shouts ‘Daddy, fuck.’ So, of course Steve tells him off. But he doesn’t stop. ‘Momma, fuck, Emmy, fuck…’ and Steve’s getting more and more exasperated, trying to tell him to stop, and wasn’t until Jamie pointed to the table and shouts ‘need fuck’ we realised he wanted a fork for his pasta and not the spoon we had given him.” Katie grinned as Natasha laughed. “Honestly Nat, I thought Steve was gonna have a heart attack.”

“Yeah he doesn’t like that kinda language.” Natasha grinned biting into a breadstick.

“I wouldn’t mind but he taught Jamie that word, not intentionally of course. And then there was the jackass incident.”

“What?”

“Someone pulled out in front of me at a junction. I forgot he was in the car so I slammed on the horn and flipped him off shouting ‘jackass’ out the window.” Katie took another drink of her water “Didn’t think anything of it until we were leaving Tony’s later that afternoon. I wound the back windows down in the car so Jamie could wave. Only he doesn’t wave, he raises his middle finger and calls Tony a jackass”

Natasha laughed. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Funnily enough that’s what Steve said.” Katie grinned. “Mind you, what he did at the supermarket the other day tops it all.” She took a bite of her garlic mushrooms. “He’s sat in the trolley and loud as you like shouts ‘I got a woody in my pants’. The woman in the aisle next to us just looks at us and Steve starts trying to explain that he was wearing Toy Story underpants, I mean…”

Natasha spluttered out her calamari, choking slightly as she started to laugh, Katie grinned before she too chuckled. It was funny now she thought about it. Tto be honest Katie had found it funny at the time, Steve was the one that had flushed bright red. At that point her phone began to ring and she fished it out of her bag.

“Uh oh.” She winced and looked at Nat

“Stark?”

She nodded “Hi Tone…” “Oh don’t hi Tone me,” his voice hit her ears, “your husband is a grade A…”

“I hope you don’t have Morgan in the car whilst you’re being so angry.” Katie jokingly chastised her brother

“A trash can lid. A god-damned trashcan lid.” “Yeah well you send our kid home with some of your shit, we’re gonna repay the favour, now if you don’t mind…”

She cut the call and saw that she had a message from Steve.

Game, set and match to Spangles ;-)

She snorted.

“Are they ever gonna stop this tit for tat with the kids?” Natasha asked.

Katie shook her head, smiling. In all honesty she kind of liked the friendly little feud they had going. It was all good natured, and she enjoyed the closeness of her family. “Nope. Sometimes I forget exactly who the kids are. The pair of them act worse than two year olds.”

******

August 2022

“Did Em tell you about the bloke at the harbour?” Steve asked, looking at Katie. The two of them were sat on the veranda of the villa on Tony’s Island. It was the last night of their two week vacation and the family had spent the time playing in the pool, on the beach- Emmy and Jamie scouring the sand for shells and other mementoes to bring home. Jamie had been particularly taken with watching the fishing boats as they left and returned from the small harbour, Steve often taking him and Emmy down to watch when they brought back their catches of the day, the small boy engaging as enthusiastically and as well he could with his two-year-old vocabulary and the locals had been nothing but gracious and kind back to him and his older sibling.

Katie suspected it was for that reason that they had returned earlier that night with a selection of seafood which Katie had enjoyed preparing for them, along with numerous salads, potatoes and some local fruits for afters. The four had gorged themselves and the kids, after no protest at all due to them being exhausted, were now tucked up in bed leaving the married couple to take in their last night alone.

“No?” Katie looked at Steve.

“He kept asking me how much I wanted for her.” Steve smirked and Katie laughed. “She thought it was hilarious too, until I offered to sell her for three lobsters and a couple mahi-mahi.”

“Oh I bet she loved that.” Katie looked at him, as he shrugged, drinking from his beer bottle. “Mind you, it is kinda freaky, just how much she’s grown. I mean she’s fifteen this October.” “Tell me about it.” Steve grumbled “We got all that stuff to come yet.” “What stuff?” Katie asked, eyeing him over her wine glass.

“You know,” he waved the hand that was clutching his beer, “boys and…whatever.” Katie snorted. “What you gonna do when she does finally bring a boy back to meet us?” She asked, swinging her bare legs up and placing her feet in his lap.

“Be waiting with a shot gun.” Steve grumbled, his spare hand dropping to her smooth skin, fingers gently tracing up and down her calf.

“That’s a dramatic shovel talk.” Katie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh I won’t talk. Just hold it across my lap and look at him.” “You’re terrible.” Katie sniggered as his hand gently continued its ministrations on her leg.

Steve chuckled and Katie glanced out over the bay, sighing slightly It had been a great few weeks, just one person really missing.

“I wish Nat would have come.”

“She’s worrying me,” Steve sighed. “It’s not healthy, being cooped up in that place, alone.”

“I know.” Katie nodded. “But there’s not much we can do other than be there for her.”

Steve took a breath, laying his head back against his chair as the warm sea breeze hit them. Katie glanced over at where he was sat, his skin slightly more tanned, the freckles that sprang over his nose during the summer were now even more pronounced although they couldn’t rival hers. His hair had been cropped short again, and he’d even sprouted the thin smattering of a beard over the last two weeks, although he’d told Katie sternly he wasn’t growing it out again.

“I’m Captain America at those support groups, and he doesn’t have a beard.”

As Katie drank him in she noticed that over the years, whilst he had aged slightly, he hadn’t changed nearly as much as she had. All the studies, backed up by Banner’s research, estimated that Steve would age at a rate approximately fifteen to twenty years younger than the average person. At some points this worried her, as she knew that in fifteen years or so he would only look to be in his late thirties when they would both be realistically, going off the years spent living and not buried in ice, midway through their fifties, but that was something she’d known before she had married him.

And she supposed that as long as he didn’t care how old she looked it didn’t matter.

“Want a photo or summi’k” Steve asked, his eyes on his wife, as she was simply looking at him, clearly contemplating something. She smiled at the way his Brooklyn drawl dripped off his voice as it always did when he was relaxed. He cocked his head slightly to one side, smiling gently at her as his beer bottle rest against his leg. Deciding she wanted distracting from the ridiculous worry that had sprung up on her, she grinned and moved her feet before she stood up. Taking the bottle off him she placed it on the table and settled on his lap, her knees either side of his thighs, as he smirked up at her.

“Summik sounds good.” She muttered kissing him hard. Their tongues began their usual dance until he pulled back and looked at her, sweeping her hair off her face. Simply put, in his eyes, his wife was stunning. Her freckles which always became more pronounced in the sun spread across her nose and her cheeks, giving her an even more youthful look than normal. Her hair was now a few inches above her waist, having grown down from the shoulder length cut she had sported whilst they’d been on the run and was falling over her face in a mass of beach tangled curls, which Steve adored. Her figure, Jesus, he could look at her all day, curves across her hips, breasts…he’d been exceptionally pleased that, despite her confidence issues over her body not being what it used to be, she’d been wearing a two-piece swimsuit, even if it was one that covered her midriff. He knew better now that to try and argue that he didn’t give a damned about the fact her stomach was slightly less flat than it used to be, or her hips were wider, Steve simply let her get on with dressing how she felt comfortable and lavished affection and praise on her every chance he got, because frankly, there wasn’t a think about his wife he didn’t adore.

He questioned every, single day how he had gotten so goddamned lucky and it had been him she’d chosen to spend the rest of her life with.

“What’s wrong?” She frowned, noticing the contemplative look in his eyes.

“Nothing at all, Baby.” He shook his head, reaching down and pulling off the crochet dress she was wearing over her swim suit top and denim shorts. “Just thinking about how I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.” She grinned as his fingers moved to undo the string that held her top around her neck, causing it to fall forward leading her bare from the waist up. He simply admired her for a moment as her hands wound into his hair and she gave a soft tug, causing his head to tilt upwards to look at her. “Not even when we got married?”

“Hmmm.” He contemplated, her lips hovering near his as she leant down, his hands creeping up her sides. “Maybe, but you weren’t my baby momma then.”

Katie grinned, she loved it when he called her that. Gently kissing him she pulled back and looked at him. “I’ve not changed that much have I?” She teased as she pushed down on his crotch and he groaned.

“Nope,” he muttered before kissing her hard, grinding his hips up against hers.

“Take me to bed Captain.” She murmured into his mouth, at him with suggestive eyes which peered from underneath heavy lids.

“Yes ma’am” he grinned, and in a swoop he’d picked her up and carried her inside.

**** Chapter 48 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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flameo-firelord-hotman · 4 years

Text

Idiot — Sokka x Fem!Reader

Genre: not sure...crack/fluff?

Warnings: none

Words: 2.1k

Summary: after spotting you in the marketplace, Sokka is head-over-heals for you and makes several foolish attempts to woo you.

A/N: I had to do it. This is yet another contribution to @fromthewatertribe’s 1k event! But this time I decided to write something a little silly with my boy Sokka. I used prompt #16: “you are like sunlight.” Enjoy :)

Masterlist

“Wow this marketplace is huge despite being such a small town,” Katara commented.

“Yeah, and it has so many cool things. Look at those pink lemons!” Aang exclaimed, pointing to one of the fruit stalls.

“And these Earth Kingdom hairpieces!” Katara added.

“And that bag over there!” Sokka said. Then, he saw you. “And her...” he said dreamily. Quickly, he approached your stall. Okay, be cool, Sokka. Be cool! he chanted in his mind.

You were organizing your products and making sure everything looked neat, when you heard someone cough to get your attention.

“Helloooo there!” Sokka greeted you in a lower sounding voice. He gave you a smug look and leaned his elbow on the countertop.

Ugh, not one of these guys again, you thought. It didn’t happen often, but it was still annoying when some customers would try to hit on you. Still, you had a job to do, so you put on your customer service smile and played nice. “Hi! How can I help you?”

“Well, I was just…inquiring what wares you were selling in this boutique here,” Sokka replied, still faking his voice.

Seriously?

Katara overheard her brother and stepped in to save you—and him—from an awkward conversation. “Pardon my idiot brother. He’s just interested in that bag over there,” she said, pointing to one of the bags on display. Sokka glared at her.

“Oh! Ahaha, sure thing. That bag is 10 silver pieces.”

“I’ll take it!” Sokka said enthusiastically. As he handed you the money, he tried to think of something clever to say to you. Come on, Sokka, think! Say something that’ll make her fall for you! When you handed him the bag, he got an idea.

With the bag in his hands, he admired it saying “this bag sure is fine, don’t you think?”

“It’s nice, yes,” you simply replied.

“So fine…just like yo—"

“Ugh, for crying out loud!” Katara suddenly groaned. She grabbed Sokka’s arm and dragged him away. “Quit hitting on her and let’s get going, will ya?” You chuckled as the siblings mocked and grumbled at each other while walking away.

“Why did you do that?” Sokka cried.

“Do what? Save you from embarrassing yourself?”

He scoffed, “if anything you embarrassed me!”

Katara groaned and pinched the bridge of her noise. She couldn’t believe how utterly stupid her brother was.

“She was totally into me!” Sokka continued, “didn’t you see the way she looked at me? We were connecting...and then you ruined it!”

“Or maybe she was looking at you, because you were being a complete weirdo.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Idiot,” Katara muttered.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Sokka jeered.

“Spirits, Sokka!” Katara cried, throwing her hands in the air.

The next day, the trio returned to the marketplace to do some more window shopping. Sokka snuck away from the group to talk to you again. He was determined to impress you and win his heart. As he approached your stall again, he devised a plan. Alright, here’s what you’re going to do, Sokka. You’re going to go up to her, introduce yourself, get her name, and then ask her out. Easy peasy!

Whistling as he walked, Sokka went up to your stall. “Oh heyyyy,” he said with a grin on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted. He leaned on the countertop just like he did yesterday. You noticed he was sporting the bag he had bought from you.

“I don’t know if you remember me, but—”

You giggled. “I do actually. You’re the silly guy who bought that bag from me yesterday,” you remarked, pointing to the bag.

“Yeah! Yeah...uh, the name’s Sokka. I’m from the Southern Water Tribe,” he said, extending his hand. You reluctantly shook it.

“I’m [y/n]. I live here.”

“That makes sense! Uh, you work here; therefore, you live here!” he commented awkwardly. He was trying to make conversation, but was clearly failing at it. You actually found it funny, not his comment, but the fact that he was making such a fool of himself again. None of the guys who hit on you were like this. You decided to play along purely for entertainment.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve lived here all my life,” you said.

“Wow, that’s amazing!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! You know what else is amazing?”

“What?”

“You,” he said with a wink.

Okay, that was kind of smooth…but I’m not giving in just yet, you thought. “Why? Because I sell bags every day?” you playfully asked.

“Yeah!” Sokka immediately responded without thinking. Then, he dreadfully realized what you said. “Well, I mean, um…that is interesting, yes. But uh…” Sokka stuttered, trailing off. His plan wasn’t working out so well. You didn’t respond the way he expected you too. By now he should’ve asked you out, but now he was off track, and didn’t know how to recover.

“So, uh, are you here to buy something? Or…” you asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Shoot! I’m losing her. I need to think of something quick! He racked his brain, trying to come up with something witty or funny to say. “No, no...I’m, uh...um...” he scratched his head. Nothing came to mind. It was time to abort mission. “You know what? I forget. Bye!”

And he bolted. You kind of felt bad for him. That Water Tribe boy was trying his best to flirt with you. It was too bad he sucked at it. But at the same time, it was funny.

Sokka ran through the streets of Shí Zhèn. He needed a new plan, but he couldn’t think of anything. He needed help, but he couldn’t ask his sister for advice, because he knew Katara would tell him to leave you alone. That left only one other person: the 12-year-old, very inexperienced Avatar. I’m so screwed! he groaned. But he had no choice; he needed to find Aang.

At last, he spotted him at one of the marketplace stalls.

“Hey, Aang!” he shouted.

“Hi, Sokka! Check out this tiny sweater I found. I think it’s supposed to be for babies, but it fits Momo perfectly!” Aang smiled. He held up Momo to show off the little green sweater wrapped around Momo’s small body. Momo chirped happily.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fantastic,” Sokka quickly said, unimpressed. “Listen, you have no game, but you’re also a wise guy. I need your help.”

“Um, thanks, I guess? What’s up?” asked Aang.

Sokka sighed, lovestruck. “This girl at the marketplace...her name’s [y/n]. Everything about her is stunning: her face, her hair, her voice…so stunning that I keep making a fool of myself in front of her.”

“Aw, that’s so cute Sokka! Isn’t love a wonderful thing?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, so how do I impress her without being an idiot?” Sokka wanted to get straight to the point.

Aang thought for a moment. He had virtually no experience in the dating world. In fact, he was struggling with his own crush on Katara. “Well, the advice you once gave me was to not be too nice and act aloof, but—”

“That’s it! Thanks, Aang!” shouted Sokka as he ran off.

Sokka rushed back to your stall. When he got within sight of it, he slowed to a stroll. Then, he proceeded to walk past your stall multiple times while acting aloof. Every time he did, he would look at you from a safe distance to see if he caught your attention.

To him, it seemed you hadn’t noticed him. The truth was that his new tactic was so painfully obvious and cringey that you pretended not to see him.

Still determined, Sokka approached your stall and pretended to look at the bags on display. Well, if he’s going to play pretend, then I will too, you decided. And so, you put on that customer service smile again and acted oblivious to him.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him.

“Hi,” Sokka said curtly. He didn’t even look up at you.

This’ll be good, you thought. “What brings you here again?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just looking, I guess,” he stated in a bored tone.

“Okay. Well, I see you’re looking at the wicker bag. That one’s pretty popular.” He merely grunted as a reply. You continued. “It’s made of rattan. Very durable, water resistant, easy to clean, and holds a lot. What do you think?”

“Meh, it seems alright.”

“Just alright? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Eh, nothing really.”

At this point, you were entertained enough. You were done playing around. “You’re funny, you know.”

“Huh?” Sokka was completely caught off guard.

“Yeah! Flirting with me, and then suddenly acting like you don’t have a care in the world. I think it’s funny.”

“Oh...” was all Sokka could say. I’ve screwed myself again, haven’t I? he worried.

You leaned on the countertop, getting closer to Sokka. “Want to know what else I think?”

“Uh...”

“I think you’re trying too hard. I don’t normally let guys hit on me, because they’re usually creepy about it, but you’re actually nice and funny. Instead of pretending to be someone you’re not, I think you should just be yourself when you ask me out.”

“Wow,” Sokka muttered in astonishment, “even when you call me idiot, it’s amazing.”

You burst out laughing. “See? You’re funny! And, yeah, I didn’t want to say that out loud, but...you read my mind.”

“Alright, I’m going to start over!” Sokka decided. Dramatically, he did a jump and spin, then threw his hands in the air and beamed as if he transformed into his true self.

“Hi there! My name’s Sokka,” he said with newfound confidence. “Has anyone ever told you that you are like sunlight?”

You threw your head back and laughed again. He gave you look of confusion.

“You’re so goofy!” you laughed, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s really sweet though, keep going!” you begged him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “well, I think you and me should hang out tonight. What do you think? We could walk through the streets, eat dinner, stargaze,” he said, hands waving in the air as he spoke.

You put your finger to your chin, pretending to deeply consider his offer. “Hmm, I don’t know, goofball,” you mumbled sarcastically, while dramatically rolling your eyes.

Sokka smirked knowingly. “Oh, come on, sunshine. You know you can’t resist silly Sokka!” he said playfully. To top it off, he scrunched up his sleeves and flex his arms. When he gave you a cheeky grin and bounced his eyebrows up and down, you cracked up once more.

“Pft, okay, goofball. You’ve won my heart. Meet me here at sunset!” you cheered.

“YES!” Sokka shouted before jumping in the air and clicking his heals victoriously. If he could do a backflip, he probably would’ve done one right then and there. “Uh, I mean...great! I’ll see you then,” he said, pointing finger guns at you as he backed away into the crowds.

Tired from wandering and shopping, Katara and Aang relaxed in their room at the local inn. Suddenly, the door was forcefully kicked opened.

“Guys, I did it!” Sokka announced as he leaped into the room. Katara and Aang stared at him wide-eyed like a startled deer-dog. Then, they glanced at each other, unsure of what he was talking about.

“Did what?” they both asked.

“I have a date with [y/n],” he sighed dreamily. If heart eyes were real, they would be popping up on his face.

“That’s great, Sokka! I’m so glad everything worked out for you,” Aang smiled.

At first, Katara felt out of the loop, then she realized who he must’ve been talking about. “Oh, don’t tell me you harassed and that poor girl again!” she facepalmed.

“Oh, no, no, we chatted for a bit. She thinks I’m hilarious!” Sokka exclaimed.

“She must’ve lied,” Katara concluded.

“Nuh-uh, she was cracking up at my jokes,” Sokka assured. “By the way, Aang, your advice sucked.”

“Actually, it was your own advice...which you gave to me,” Aang carefully explained.

“Well...ugh, whatever! It doesn’t matter anymore. I have a date tonight that I need to get ready for. Later, losers!”

After the door closed, Katara shook her head and sighed, “why is my brother like this?”

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