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(Young!Henry!Mills x Platonic!Sister!Reader)
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SUMMARY: Your mother, Madam Mayor and arch-monarch of Storybrooke, Regina Mills, has sent you out to fetch your adoptive brother once again. Since his alleged "biological mom" had arrived in your small town, the boy has been continuously escaping Regina's grasp and running off with his little fairytale book.
(AUTHORS NOTE: This is my first ever post/fanfic here on Tumblr. Might be a slight understatement to say that I've done a fair bit of digging around in the #fanfic tag lol, and have messed around with the layout and banners a TON. The plot is also kinda random, but I may just be biased. Anyway, enjoy lolz)
CW: X reader/insert, possible OOC?,
TW: Minor/moderate swearing
PRIMARY CHARACTERS: Henry, Regina, You, Emma
GENRE(S): Sibling rivalry/bonding, humour, slight fluff
"𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜"
The wind whistled, cool breeze piercing your ears as you trudged your way across the pristine streets of Storybrooke, until the pavement ended and the sandy terrain begun. Your eyes were locked on your destination. The castle playground, of which you had been venturing to all week.
It seemed that seemed once again, your mother had bossed you off to the air-dampened, wooden equipment to fetch the brown-haired nuisance she claimed to be your brother.
Both you and Henry made sure that that was very prominent. He wasn't really your brother, just as Regina wasn't really his mother. Only on paper. You would have been perfectly fine if it were just you and Regina, no doubt about it. And since that red-leather-clad woman that claimed to be Henry's Mum had arrived in your perfect town, it had only been chaos and conflict there-on-out.
Couldn't Emma just take the boy and go? Of course not. That would be too simple. Regina couldn't bear the thought of Emma taking what's hers. Madam Mayor isn't the kind to share. She was certain she'd get the last laugh. She always has, and it was more than likely that she always will.
Maybe that's where you got it from. The virtue that your peers deemed "stubborn". That paramount streak of yours. It's rather straight forward, isn't it? If it's yours, take it. And if it's your turn to play, take the shot. How does the saying go?
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree".
You weren't thinking too hard on fruit philosophy right now, though. You felt the tips of your ears grow warm as the sight of Henry peeked around from behind one of the wooden pillars of the playground.
He was perched up on castle's wall, legs swaying slightly in the wind. He was engulfed in that stupid book again. Typical. He's 10 years old, for God's sake. Isn't he getting too old to believe in fairytales? You knew just how chagrined your mother was at Mary Margaret for giving Henry that book, and for once, you agreed with her on something besides from the colour red's superiority.
You climbed up the steps of the wooden playground, before quickly wrapping your hand around Henry's arm. Broken out of his stupor, he flinched as if he had just been slapped across the face. It seemed that he had been so deep into the book, that he hadn't noticed you approaching at all – despite your exaggerated stamp.
"What're you doing?" You demanded, voice icy as one of the statues in the backyard.
"You have a session with Archie soon, and Mom's made meatloaf. It's getting cold."
Henry's look of suprise shifted, as he turned around to face you entirely. His grip on the pages tightened just an ounce, brows furrowed.
"But she said we were having lasagne for dinner?"
Your eyelid twitched. You didn't want to be out here. You knew full-well that your mother was entirely capable of getting Henry herself, but you also knew better than to protest. You wanted to hang out with your friends after tea, and were well aware that the odds of that would drop drastically if you disobeyed or challenged Regina.
"That's not the point, nitwit. It's, like, the fourth time I've had to come and get you this week," You put your hands on her hips and glared, a move you had subconsciously learnt from your mother. "and I'm not going to be late to Amanda's again."
Henry's gaze drifted for a moment in thought, before returning to you.
"I thought Amanda was the annoying one. Bossy and stuff. Aren't I doing you a favour?"
You felt like reaching over and swatting him across the face as soon as the words left his lips, but settled for snatching the book from his grasp instead.
"Hey, give that back! It's important! You're gonna drop it–"
Henry lifted himself up on his tippy-toes, stretching his fingers towards the precious totem you were holding out of his reach. You scoffed, already pissed off with his antics.
"If you want it," You began, "you're gonna have to come get it."
And with that, you turned on your heels and hastily made for the playground ladder. Still holding the book in the air, you darted towards the familiar pavement, shoes thumping along the cement with exaggerated pace. You could hear Henry not too far away behind you, shouting and panting. A small wave of what felt like adrenaline washed over you as you passed streetlamps and advertisement signs.
Henry started going on about an Evil Queen and a cobra. It didn't make much sense, but then again, nothing Henry does really makes sense to you. Finally, you reached the Herringbone patterned, terracotta tiles of home. You stopped and caught your breath, chest heaving, while Henry caught up and did the same.
"Give it here! If Mom sees, she'll-"
You hushed him, looking towards the door. It was open ever so slightly, a fraction of the extravagant lighting seeping in through the crack. The sounds of two women bickering bounced off of the walls and into both of your ears.
Great. Miss Swan must be here. You rolled your eyes before turning your gaze to Henry. His brows were furrowed as he looked back at you. The book was long forgotten, the two of you approaching the front door.
After a moment of trying to hear what Regina and Emma were at eachothers' throats about, you pushed the door open with a slight creak, walking in with Henry close behind you. The familiar, comforting smell of warm ground beef mixed with a menagerie of spices wafted through the air, as if trailing out of the kitchen and beckoning you both to come.
"What're they arguing about?" Henry questioned, taking his coat off and hanging it on the rack.
You shrugged, holding the book out for him to take.
"I dunno. But it's getting late. I didn't even know Emma was here."
Rubbing your cool fingers against your warm jacket, you kicked of your boots and slid on your slippers. Before long you heard your mother call for both you and Henry, and the sound of Emma's footsteps trudging towards the front door. She appeared for around the corner with a slight frown on her face, but it lifted just a smide when she saw Henry.
Emma gave you a polite nod before greeting her son. Once again, Regina called for you, a little less patient now.
"Alright, alright! I'm coming!" You huffed, stomping passed Henry and Emma. You had heard your "brother" bring Miss Swan to a halt and start questioning her, but you weren't too invested. The only thing on your mind was shutting Madam Mayor up and getting to see your friends on time.
When you entered the dining room, you were met with the sight of your mother waiting in her usual chair, shoulders tense and arms crossed.
You threw yourself down in your seat without looking her in the eyes, but rather eyeing off the meatloaf.
As if on cue, Henry came through the doorway and sat across from you, now looking rather thoughtful.
"You said we were having lasagne."
Regina sighed, seemingly making a conscious effort to rid herself of the tension that had kept in after her confrontation with the sheriff... Whatever that was.
"I thought we should try something a bit newer. We've been having lasagne a lot lately."
"That's because it's good." Henry quipped, though his voice lacked malice and was more like observation than ridicule.
You hummed in agreement, mouth full of meatloaf. Regina shot you a correctional glance, sending a shot of annoyance down your spine.
There wasn't much conversation after that. Of course Regina tried to ask you and Henry about your days (to which you shrugged and Henry dryly replied), and rambled on about her day. But is it really conversation if the only one listening is the speaker?
Nonetheless, family dinner is family dinner.
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Aaaahhhhhhh I finally finished i let's goooooooo. Anyway, thanks sm for reading!! If enough people enjoy/like this, I'll make a part two. If you'd like to be on my taglist, just comment if you do and if you'd like to be tagged on everything.
TAGLIST: @contently-cringe
