#and I saw a parent and toddler crossing the street | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milksuu · 6 months

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Imagine Yone having a wife, which the rest of Heartsteel doesn't know about, I mean they never asked, and then one day he brings a child to the bands apartment. Since his wife has to work late hours and the nursery is already closed, he has to take care of their child. What would the reaction of the band be? And how would they be with children? (Also the wife is the reader since I love self indulgence with Yone)

❥ prompt: Yone never talked about his personal life. The Heartsteel gang had a few assumptions, but they were just theories. Nothing proven. Until the gang found a toddler running around the apartment. ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, gang shenanigans ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel & yonexreader!gn!kid

KAYN

"What the hell is that thing!? And since when did Yone spawn anything into existence!?"

Kayn isn't used to children being within a five-foot radius of his presence. He tends to not surround himself with booger eating, snot crying, whining little crotch gremlins. Even worse, their damn parents.

Kayn's chaotic nature in public can't be stifled. And he's met his fair share of parents trying to lecture him on his behavior. He always has two words ready for such an occasion: Fuck off. And then proceeds to flash both middle fingers in the air, and laugh when the child behind the fuming parents drops their ice-cream. Absolute poetry.

This was a little different. Scratch that—a lot different. Not only does he know the damn parent (Yone) but the child has managed to infiltrate his room, and infect everything with a thousand unnamed child born diseases. He's about ready to blow a casket. Until the kid accidentally starts playing his Pentakill vinyl album on the record player. That's when he saw a rockstar be born. The way that little tyke started headbanging would put a bunch of mosh pit psycho's to shame. And the screeching? A future screamo lead-singer, easily.

An all out heavy-metal concert ensued. With Kayn rifting his guitar with the song instrumentals, and the kid jumping and screaming into a cheap cordless mic he found under his bed. When the song ended, Kayn chanted "Jump! Jump!" into the mosh-pit of one. And you don't need to tell a child to launch themselves off of anything twice. The tater-tot squealed and laughed, being caught in Kayn's hands and praised into the air for a killer performance.

From the bedroom door, an audience member leaned cooly against the frame. Clapping at the spectacle. "Dada!" The kid raised their fists higher into the air. "I'm a rwockstar!"

Yone lifted a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement. "I can see that."

"Y-Yeah. Next time, tell your kid not to barge into other people's rooms," Kayn coughed, quickly setting down the kid and patting them towards Yone. "Teach it some manners, o-or whatever. So that I don't have to deal with it."

Yone chuckled under his breath. Taking his child by the hand, he smiled. "Come with me. We should go before someone gets a little too attached."

Kayn huffed red. Slamming the door and shouting behind it, "WOULD NOT!"

APHELIOS

".........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?"

So, there was a child. An actual living, breathing one. Stumbling. Running around. Knocking things over. Yelling at the wall and ceilings like some deranged lunatic out on the city streets. What a disaster. What a nightmare. Aphelio's wasn't scared by most things; monsters, zombies, ghosts, spam mail. But children were terrifying creatures. Destructive and loud. The worst kind of combination in a singular human being. Kind of like Kayn.

He swore he broke out into a cold sweat when the child barged into his room. Not quietly at all. His heart pounded. His fingers turned cold. And his eyes trembled against his computer screen. He hoped the child would grow bored of terrorizing his room like some miniature version of Godzilla. He also hoped someone would see the calamity, take pity on him, and come to his aid. Someone like Sett.

He then heard a familiar note. He cursed himself twice. He shouldn't have left his electric portable keyboard out in the open. Aphelios turned cautiously in his chair. He swallowed hard and braced himself for a horrific sight. He thought he'd find the child bashing the keys in or trying to pluck the knobs right off. Instead, he saw a small round face filled with wonder at the sound. Carefully, the child pressed another. Smiling, delighted by the next note. Aphelio's eyes rounded. That's when he saw a little bit of himself.

It didn't take long for Apehlios to gather his spare headset and cord link. He plucked the kid up and placed him right on his lap at his desk. He was going to show this little one all the instruments in his digital toolbox. The workflow of an absolute musical genius. And they were going to make a mixed bite that would leave people speechless.

"Oh! Oh! Dat one. Dat one." The toddler tapped Aphelio's hand against his computer mouse. A few clicks and the instrument was spliced into the mix. When Aphelio's replayed the bit, the child kicked their legs back and forth, clapping their hands together. Wanting to gauge the tots overall opinion, he flipped between thumbs-up and thumbs-down. Back and forth. The little one took his hand, and kept it thumb-side-up with a cheeky grin. And they both nodded in agreement. This mix was a certified banger.

EZREAL

"Hey, guys. Has anyone seen my phone? Nevermind. Found it! Someone's totally random kid has it. Wait—HUH!?"

Ezreal doesn't mind kids so much. They could sometimes be a lot of fun. The only thing Ezreal can't handle is once a crying session starts, or a random tantrum erupts. He gets a little nervous when the meltdowns start. Because he has no freaking clue how to handle it. So for the most part, Ezreal does like kids—from a distance. Where he can smile and laugh at their antics, without having to actually deal with an emotional ticking time bomb. Kayn was bad enough already.

The other thing he can't deal with is someone messing with his phone! And unfortunately, his habit of misplacing it has caught up to him. Because now a toddler has it. Deleting and messing up his apps. Possibly trying to look for some silly game he doesn't even have installed. And if Ezreal thought he was fast, well, this kid took the crown. Call that tyke 'Lightning McQueen', because they were leaving sneaker marks on the floor.

But this game of chase had to come to an end. Ezreal caught up to the road-runner, and slipped the phone right out of those tiny fingers. Ezreal cheered himself thinking he won. Ezreal quickly figured out he was actually about to be the biggest loser. He witnessed those round eyes growing in watery magnitude. Face wrinkling with pure, unfiltered raw emotion. The hiccups increased in volume, and those puffed cheeks were getting more red by the minute.

"H-Hey! Don't cry. No, no. Shhh—Shhh! It's okay." Ezreal smacked his hands together, begging and pleading for mercy upon his sensitive soul. Ezreal sunk his top teeth into his bottom lip. He wasn't prepared for this at all. And if Yone ever found out he made his kid cry, then mostly likely, he'd make sure Ezreal was crying too (and bleeding) on the floor. Then forced to clean up his own murder scene!

A few quick taps and he knelt down with the hiccuping toddler. With the cat filter setup, Ezreal pretended to be a kitten; meowing and licking his paw and rubbing his cheeks to clean himself. The kiddo sniffed back their brimming tears, giggling when they saw they had their own whiskers and ears! After a couple of loud meows, the child hopped up and down. "Doggy next! Doggy next!" One tap and now they were puppies, barking and panting.

Many cute pictures were taken. Ezreal picked out a few and messaged them to Yone.

[Yone:] Thanks. The wife will be happy to have these. [Ezreal:] np! 😋 [Yone:] By the way. Have you finished cleaning the bathrooms? [Ezreal]:..............................................yes. 🤗 [Yone:] Finish the bathrooms. Now. Or I'll be confiscating your phone for a week.

Ezreal almost broke down in tears, falling to his knees. He was so close to having his own meltdown. Just from the sheer thought of losing his phone privilege's. Honestly, he should be off the hook for entertaining the kid and sending cute pictures. Life totally wasn't fair!

SETT

"Well, hello down there. You wanna play a game or—shoot. I didn't mean to scare ya'h off! I swear I'm a nice guy if ya'h give me a chance!"

There was no doubt about it. Sett really, really, liked children. There was something about them that brought him joy whenever they were around. All of his personal baggage and adult stress would simply melt away from a simple giggle or smile. And Sett had his fair share of babysitting other single-moms' and their children while growing up. It was one of his part-time jobs from middle to high school. All to help Ma' with paying the bills.

Unfortunately, kids didn't seem to like him too much (at first). With his overwhelming mass, they'd think he was some sort of monster. The one their parents told them would gobble them up if they didn't shower before bed. So, here he was, trying to entertain the little one. But anytime they caught sight of him, they'd cry in terror and scamper away. Sett had to think bigger. He tapped his chin a couple of times before a light bulb went off above his ears.

He laid out the scene in his room. He thanked his Ma' for one of the plushies she sent came with a tea set in the box. He went as far as to grab a few outfits and materials he stitched up as small replicas of larger projects him and K'Sante worked on. Him and the surrounding stuff toys were dressed appropriately for the most exquisite tea-party. Dress, hats, neck pearls and all!

Curiosity always got the best of any child. When the tater-tot heard the laughs and conversations, they had to sneak a peek. And once they entered the room, the child found Sett sitting on the ground, surrounded by his plushies, all served with tiny cups and plates.

"Oh! Quiet down everyone. The prince/princess has finally arrived. Mr. Chonk, please. Show our honored guest to their seat." He motioned his tea-cup to a free spot at the 'table'. The child glowed with excitement, scurrying to their designated placement. With a fancy tilt of their teacup, they took prim and proper sips of their tea. "More tea, Mr.Swett?" The toddler wiggled forward and picked up the teapot.

"Why, yes. I would love some more. Thank you." Sett raised his cup at the offer. The giggles and excitable conversation could be heard throughout the entire apartment. It wasn't long till the rest of the gang stuck their noses through a crack at the door. Opening the door, they couldn't help but burst with laughter at the display. Ezreal, of course, snapping pictures. Aphelios chuckling to himself behind his mask. Kayn roaring with laughter and tears. And K'Sante commenting on how he'd never expect some of his designed outfits would be used at a kid's tea party. "Nuh-Uh. You can't come in." The toddler hoped on their feet, pushing all of them all out the door. "Dis invitation onwy. No stinkers!"

"That's right, fellas. No stinkers." Sett laughed, raising his pinky into the air. "This is an exclusive tea-party. Better luck gettin' invited next year. Right?"

K'SANTE

"He-He. You think you have what it takes because you are Yone's kid? Show me and prove it."

K'Sante grew up with a large family. Brothers, sisters, first cousins, second cousins, the neighbors next door and their kids. Heck, even that laundromat lady his mom was friends with and her kids. Actually, just about everyone in the community. Seemed like it was always a party at his parents home. No matter the day or week, K'Sante had always dealt with a high-energy household. And when the adults pulled out the bottle of Akpeteshie, you knew it was going to be a rager. And at the kids table, K'Sante was in charge of watching over the parade of younger children.

Being a certified older sibling within his family unit, and apparently, Heartsteel as well, handling one little wasn't going to throw off his cool or cramp his style. In fact, he was more than prepared. If there was one thing he knew from growing up, kids loved to play dress up. And he had a full wardrobe of runway worthy outfits.

K'Sante busted out a long carpet down the hallway. Borrowed some plushies from Sett, and made them the audience and judges. Dimming most of the surrounded lights, the hallway bulbs illuminated the catwalk with intensity. Let the show begin!

"Higher energy! Yes, show them a 'ting or two about what fashion truly means." K'sante clapped his hands as the kiddo strutted down with dramatic sass. "That is it. Right there. Now, finish them off with the look." At the end of the carpet, the child titled their head back, and narrowed their eyes before sharply turning with a fling of the boa around their neck. K'Sante cheered, pushing one of the stuffed animals as if it passed out from sheer cut-throat fashion! He blew kisses into the air. "They can't even handle you right now. You are new, you are fresh, but also timeless. Molded by the hands of Gods. Your power is infinite."

Wardrobe changes were a must. K'Sante wasn't going to let such talent go to waste. His work of art and the tiny fashion model would display it all for the world to see. Well, the stuffed animal world, he had to remind himself. Seemed like a game of pretend was feeling like a real runway gig! And after the runway show was over, it actually wasn't truly over. K'Sante had pulled out a magazine from behind a display case. Showing the kiddo a picture of their father walking down a runway in an all black-attire event. "Dada," the kid placed a hand against the glossy page. "Supah cool."

"That's right." K'Sante said proudly, puffing his chest. "And your Dada looks cool because I am the one who designed his suite. But, I'll give him credit. He is a pretty cool guy all on his own."

an: this req was too cute to write omg. sorry if i just focused on the gang and the kid, rather than the yone x reader part you also requested. felt it was getting a bit long, and i wasn't sure if i could incorporate it well enough. very sorry about that. but don't worry! i have another yone x reader req. incoming.

#heartsteel #sheida kayn #aphelios #ezreal #sett #k'sante #yone #request #reqs open #league of legends

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corisanna · 2 years

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Domestic Witches AU

@catboy-von-seckendorff mentioned that Oktavia might freak out if she saw her parents on the street and that sounded fun to play with

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

Oktavia had to go up to Asunaro for a practice performance in the morning. She and Kyoko decided to bring Anthony and make a day of it. So they bundled up against the cold and headed for the subway station.

After the practice, they wandered the shopping district. Anthony loved the animals in a pet store. They were distracted by Anthony babyishly rambling about the kitties he saw while they were wandering the streets on the hunt for a toy store when they bumped into a couple exiting a restaurant. Oktavia adjusted her hold on Anthony then looked up and froze.

Her parents.

"Oh, so sorry," her mom said.

Mom. Her mom.

Kyoko waved and ruefully said, "Nah, our fault. Got too distracted by our kid."

Her dad laughed. "Toddlers are masters of distraction, aren't they?"

Dad. Her dad.

Kyoko laughed then looked at Oktavia. She raised a brow. That was the kind of comment she'd usually laugh at and joke with. But she was frozen in pain and panic.

"Funny?" Anthony asked the laughing adults.

Her parents looked her way. She desperately wished that she put on that big turtleneck that could cover part of the bottom of her face. At least her hair and eyebrow color was completely hidden by her knit cap and the puffy hood of her jacket. But her face. Her face.

Panic. Panic.

Her parents looked at Anthony first. They smiled at him.

Her mom said, "Oh, yes. Very funny." She looked at him more closely. Her brows rose and mixed emotions crossed her face. "Oh. He's beautiful. He-- he reminds me of--"

Dammit why did Anthony have to look so much like her?!

Her mom looked up at her and cut herself off with an, "Oh."

Her dad looked at her properly and looked pained. "Oh."

Oh no. They recognized her. She had the urge to run. But she was rooted to the spot.

Kyoko looked from Oktavia to her parents and back. "What's up?"

"It's just-- it's just--" her mom stammered.

"You just look so much like our daughter," her dad said quietly.

Kyoko's eyes widened. She understood.

Say something. She had to say something. Say something.

"Well," Oktavia said totally not nervously, "you should tell her you ran into her doppelganger today." She added an awkward laugh.

Both of her parents looked deeply sad. Deep grief.

"I wish we could," her mom said softly. "She died when she was fourteen."

Oktavia and Kyoko plastered sympathetic expressions on their faces.

"Oh, no."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

Anthony looked confused. "Sorry?"

Her dad smiled sadly. "You look like she may have had she gotten the chance to grow up."

"She would be about your age, now," her mom said. She smiled wanly. "Probably not as tall, though."

Yes. The witchy tallness was an asset. Yes.

"I'm sorry to bring up sad memories," Oktavia said. Cool. Play it cool.

Her dad shook his head. "Don't be. You're bringing up good memories. And dreams for her."

"Sayaka as a mother... having a grandchild...," her mom said wistfully. "It would have been wonderful." She looked at Anthony. Her face warmed with a smile. "Treasure every moment with your little one. Even when he gets big. We weren't as present in our daughter's life as we should have been in her last few years. We didn't show her that she was our treasure. We deeply regret that."

"We'll never get the chance to apologize to her for that," her father added somberly.

Her mother nodded and closed her eyes. "If we could have that time back to cherish her and support her... to show her our love more openly... maybe things could have been different."

Oktavia would not break down crying. Would not. Would not say, "It's me! Sayaka!" and "You really do have a grandchild!" Would not say, "I forgive you for that distance," or "It wasn't your fault." Would not hand off Anthony to Kyoko and throw herself at them in a wide embrace. Would not shout "I love you! I miss you!" Couldn't. She so dearly wanted to, but couldn't.

Her mom opened her eyes and gave Oktavia a melancholy smile. "Show your son your love every day. Don't give him a chance to doubt it. Let him know he's your treasure."

Her dad smiled at her and Kyoko. "Kids are miracles. Always remember that."

Oktavia teared up and held Anthony closer. "Yes."

Her mom looked embarrassed and laughed a little, then wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. We're total strangers getting so preachy with you about parenting."

"Nah, it's cool," Kyoko said as she put her arm around Oktavia's shoulders and squeezed support. "Thanks for the advice. And I really am sorry about your daughter."

Her parents said their goodbyes and left. Oktavia watched their backs until they disappeared around a distant corner. In and out of her life in the span of ten minutes. Probably never to be seen again.

Her heart cracked and ached so badly. She needed to break down sobbing. But not in public. Not in front of Anthony. She stood still with her mouth locked shut and started shaking. Shaking.

"Mama is cold?" Anthony asked, thankfully misinterpreting her shudders as shivers.

Oktavia nodded and forcibly controlled her voice in a strained whisper. "Mama doesn't feel good."

"Oh, no!" Anthony cried cutely. He looked worried. "Soup and naptime?"

Oktavia nodded again.

"Let's get Mama home so she can go to bed, okay?" Kyoko said warmly, though her face was grim.

Anthony looked down the street longingly. "Toys...," he said sadly. Then he turned back and patted Oktavia's cheek with a mittened hand. "Mama is sicky. We help her get better."

Oktavia pressed a kiss into his cheek and struggled to hold back tears. She loved him so much. "You are so good to your mama," she croaked.

He hugged her around the neck and cuddled her.

Getting home was a blur of streets and trains with the constants of Anthony cuddling and Kyoko keeping an arm firmly wrapped around her waist. She kept her mouth pressed shut and tried not to think. Tried to just focus on the goal of reaching her labyrinth.

Mami was near the door when Kyoko opened it. Oktavia shoved Anthony at her as she passed and quickly strode for the bedroom. She faintly heard a "what happened?" as she swept through her labyrinth's door. She broke into a run through the hall and started screaming the moment she entered the main chamber. She ran for her throne and shifted into her full-size witch form but she was so far gone that she couldn't make herself turn and sit on it. Instead, she bent over its seat while gripping the sides and screamed and sobbed. Her orchestra echoed her despair with dramatic music. She lost herself in it.

Mom and Dad. Thought forever lost to her, but back. So briefly. There and gone. Still grieving for her six years later, not knowing she still existed-- that she was living a life they dreamed for her and thought impossible. Regretting their distance. Expressing their love for her to strangers on the street.

Her relationship with them had been complicated, but time had mellowed her opinion of them somewhat. Or at least she had managed to keep her feelings about them at arm's length. Madoka had told her how devastated they had been at her funeral and that had added to the complexity. She had come to think they cared for her but were very flawed. Flawed enough to take them as a lesson in what not to do in parenting her child. Now she had them regretting their flaws and indirectly apologizing for them. The complexity reawakened with a mountain of feelings she already knew she would need time to process.

She felt Kyoko's entry into her labyrinth but didn't move to meet her. She was vaguely aware of Kyoko standing in the entry door, but was too preoccupied. Then Kyoko announced, "I'm coming up," and leapt from floor to throne to her arm near where she had her face buried in the crook of her elbow.

Kyoko stroked the side of her helm where a cheek would be and quietly said something, but Oktavia was too far gone to really hear. Kyoko repeated herself at intervals, gradually getting louder. Oktavia heard her name from a distance but couldn't focus on it. Then Kyoko tenderly said, "Sayaka."

Oktavia paused in her sobbing. Her birth name said with the same emotion that had first brought her out of the all-consuming despair of a witch. Kyoko's voice saying that name would always grab her attention.

"I'm with you, Sayaka. You're not alone in this," Kyoko said gently. She kept stroking the side of her helm. After a minute of quiet, she said, "Hey. Get small so I can hold you while you vent this all out, yeah?"

Oktavia was suddenly desperate to be held. She wanted Kyoko's warmth to anchor her in this stormy sea of emotions. Immediately.

She slowly pulled herself up, careful to not fling Kyoko off her. Kyoko lightly jumped back down to the floor and waited for her. Kyoko's arms were already open when Oktavia shifted to her human form. Oktavia staggered her way towards her but fell to her knees on jelly legs. She reached up for Kyoko pleadingly as she started sobbing again. Kyoko came to her and bent down to embrace her. Oktavia threw her arms around Kyoko's waist with a wail and held on for dear life. Kyoko pushed back Oktavia's hood and removed her knit hat, then stroked Oktavia's hair, arms, and back as Oktavia cried into her front.

Oktavia started babbling through her sobs. She wasn't entirely sure what she was saying but knew it wasn't coherent. The topic was her parents, their relationship, and her feelings about them both in general about having met them. Her words were jumbled sentence fragments muffled by Kyoko's chest. Kyoko never interrupted her, just kept soothing her with touch.

When she finally wore down some from sheer exhaustion, Kyoko gently pushed her back by her shoulders and looked at her affectionately. She pushed Oktavia's messy bangs out of her wet face and stroked her cheek.

"I know this is a mess of feelings to deal with," Kyoko said solemnly. "I know if I walked into my family on the street, I'd... yeah. A mess. I want you to know it's okay to feel a mess right now and I'm gonna be here for you while you untangle it. Or help you untangle it. Whichever. But I'm here, yeah?"

"Ye-- yeah," Oktavia squeaked gratefully. She turned her head to one side to lean it on Kyoko facing out so she could talk better and sniffed hard. "It's not fair."

"No. It's not," Kyoko agreed.

"It sounded like they might understand now."

"Maybe."

"I wanted that so badly."

"Mmm."

"They still miss me after all this time."

"Yeah."

"They really do love me."

"Yeah."

Oktavia closed her eyes and tried not to cry again. "I thought I was past them. But it seems I'm not."

"And that's fine. They're different, so it makes sense you'd have different kinds of feelings about them." Kyoko reached down and tapped under her chin to get her to look up. She wore the expression she used to tell their son to obey her. "This is a hell of a lot to handle. Be upset all you want, vent all you want, whatever. But don't you hole yourself up in here and wallow in it alone all the time. Let me and Mami help. You hear me?"

Oktavia smiled weakly. "Yes, ma'am."

Kyoko's lip turned up in one corner, not quite smirking. She shook a finger at Oktavia. "Now, our son prescribed soup and naptime. He's a smart little thing so I think you'd better take his advice. He's helping Mami make the soup so you have to crash in bed until it's ready if you don't want him to be unhappy."

Oktavia's smile brightened slightly. "Gotta listen to Doctor Tony." Her face softened into love as she reached up with one hand and held Kyoko's cheek. "Thank you. For being here," she said softly.

Kyoko smiled, grabbed her hand, kissed her knuckles, and started hauling Oktavia up off the floor. She looked up at Oktavia when she managed to stand and said, "Always."

#Domestic Witches AU #maybe I should have been numbering these #note: Kyoko is allowed to say Oktavia's birth name per kechi #my writing #gift story

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hekate1308 · 1 year

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Present Blessings, A Drowley Advent Calendar, December 16

Masterpost

Read it on AO3

Just as he had foreseen, Dean wouldn’t take no for an answer and dragged him outside after breakfast. When he finally got him to tell him why, the reason was much more prosaic than he could have imagined.

For, as it turned out, this angel wanted to look at the Christmas lights that had been put up all of two months ago – aside from the general aesthetics, Crowley was growing more and more thankful for Halloween because it at least pushed back Christmas somewhat – and that he apparently considered beautiful, but Crowley thought a waste of electricity and time.

Dean, of course, was completely the opposite in that regard, so much so that Crowley had to remind him that he should put on a warmer jacket or people would wonder why he was walking around dressed as if he didn’t feel the cold, which of course he didn’t.

The real question was why Crowley felt the need to remind him in the first place.

Still, it was something to see him (Metaphorically, for of course it would have been possible for him to do so literally, he was sure) light up when he saw the shop windows and the street lights.

“You really do like all of this” Crowley said calmly as they strolled through the city.

“Yeah, man. I mean – just think of it. What exactly is going on here?”

“Let me see. Exhausted parents are dragging their toddlers home, lonely people wish for a connection that they are increasingly unlikely to find these days, those who have fallen thro –“

“Oh my God” and he found himself suddenly wondering whether Dean was allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain, but really, the question was mute in many ways “That’s not what I meant. Look, it’s in the middle of winter, and you’d all have the excuse to be as sad and forlorn as you could be, but instead, here you are, celebrating a loud and colorful party.”

“Actually it’s supposed to be –“

“Yeah, yeah, I know, son of God and all of that.”

“Are you going to tell me that Jesus didn’t exist?”

Dean looked shocked. “Of course not. He was a really nice guy. I liked him a lot.”

Of course he had.

“And between us, he would have had much more fun these days, when it’s a party, as supposed to all of that praying and preaching. He was fun.”

Jesus had been fun. Wasn’t that good to know.

But that was not what Crowley himself found fascinating at the moment.

“You really do love earth, don’t you?”

Dean nodded, looking around him. “Yeah. It’s – it’s really something, isn’t it?”

It was Crowley’s turn to agree, although he had to admit that he was looking at Dean rather than at the people around him.

“That reminds me. There’s a place I wanted to show you” Dean grinned and led him deeper into the city. He really seemed to know it rather well, proving he must have spent time here even before he had gotten the assignment to deal with Crowley or at least make him acceptable in the eyes of Heaven.

Now, he still held by the fact that he shouldn’t have to be. Why, really? People made choices and dealt with them on a daily basis. He had no idea why –

And the, when Dean darted across the street because a child was crying, he realized.

He calmly crossed the street to join him, if only so he would see what was going on. It quickly transpired the little girl had lost her mummy in the mayhem that was going on all around them. Noe, Crowley had for many reasons not been around for Gavin’s very early years, but he was ready to bet he would already have been after him if he had suddenly vanished. Dean, of course, was quickly consoling her, kneeling down to her height, doing his outmost to make her comfortable. Since he didn’t want to scare her, he did his best to look around for the mother. Now, where –

A, there. A frantic woman, rather panicked-looking, holding a slightly older child’s hand. He waved, and when she looked over, he called, “Are you looking for Penny? For of course Dean had already gotten her to disclose her name.

She hurried over and thanked them profusely, although for some reason she had to tell Crowley, “Your husband is wonderful.”

Dean was busy waving Penny goodbye, thankfully.

He watched them leave, looking contemplative. But then, he had never been a child..

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s just… It’s really nothing. I… John always says I get too attached.”

And jus like that, Crowley understood.

With everything he had told him about this John…

They were counting on Dean to fail.

#my writings #spn #drowley #dean winchester #crowley #advent calendar

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danilovesivars · 1 year

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Not My Baby to Hold

Hey Charlie, I wrote something a little more than a week ago. I closed my laptop and didn’t save it. It was gone. I was exhausted I couldn’t write it again. I’m tired. Tuesday I started feeling very anxious and uneasy. Like I felt like you were lost. Like I didn’t know where you were. Denial was setting back in. Wednesday I took Riley to school but when we got in there we were waiting to talk to her principal and the office was really busy and she got really anxious and broke down. Eventually she did better and I went home. When I got home I got angry. So angry. I couldn’t control he tears. Then the tears turned into screaming so much shouting and screaming from the bottom of my lungs. Eventually I couldn’t breathe. I tried to get outside for air but it didn’t help. Our neighbour was out and came right over and sat with me until I started to calm down a bit. Then the school called because Riley was sick. The rest of the night tears just continued to slowly stream down my face. While I tried to watch tv, while I read, while I slept. Today I feel exhausted and dehydrated. No amount of water seems to be enough. I feel weak and shaky. It won't stop. It’s interesting how every time you cycle into another grief stage it knocks you over so hard. I don’t get it Charlie. I’m very confused. I literally feel like I can’t find you like my brain has decided that’s easier than admitting you are gone. I went from finding comfort in looking at your photos and videos. Your smile made me smile. Now I can’t breathe. I have so much heaviness in my chest. It’s so physically real I wonder how my heart hasn’t stopped. Last week was a lot of things. One day I took Riley to the park. As we approached the park I saw a toddler in the toddler swing. I felt a pang and I looked away and tried not to think about it. Eventually the parents brought him over to where Riley was sitting. Oh Charlie this little boy looked so much like you. Just so much like you. He was about your size, he had light brown hair with little curls. He turned and looked at me his big brown eyes and long eyelashes caught the sunlight and he smiled. For a moment I felt my body out of reflex want to reach for him but my brain knew it wasn’t you. That’ was not my baby to hold. I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t hold in the tears. I tried so hard and probably sounded like I had some hiccups or was hyperventilating. I called Riley and told her we had to leave. She didn’t hesitate she saw I was upset and we headed home. I tried to keep it together but I kept crying. Later that week Riley and I were heading to the store when I saw a dad carrying his little boy on his shoulder like Daddy carried you.They crossed the street ahead of us. As I pulled up to stop at the intersection to make a left hand turned I looked left for traffic that’s when I saw it. The little boy looked up over his dads shoulder and straight into the car and made eye contact as he waved at me. but not a typical toddler wave. A Charlie stiff armed wave. I waved back. “Hi baby” I heard myself say. I cry-laughed the whole way to the store. He was tiny like you. Brown hair but much curlier, brown skinned, brown eyed. It wasn’t my baby to hold but I knew in that moment my baby was sending me a hello. Which brings me to something else from last week. We hung some illustrations around the house. Remember Daddy’s coworker drew pictures of him and Riley? She drew one of you as well. So we framed the one of Riley and the one of you and hung them over the couch. We had to move the mirror. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. You liked to watch TV through the mirror. But we still have the big mirror in the bedroom you liked to watch yourself in.

We hung another one too in your room. Tia’s daddy made it for us. It’s actually a drawing of my favourite picture of you. He titled it Charlie Forever in Touch. I cried when I saw it. His drawing was also beautiful. But the title. He saw what I see when I look at that picture. You still reaching for me. I actually even started making albums from your pictures - one of you laughing, one of you with the pets, one of you with the grandparents and great grandparents but it started with ones of you forever reaching. Forever in touch.

It’s amazing how both artists captured your eyes perfectly. I can stare into them forever. Tomorrow is Riley’s birthday. She wanted you to be the special guest on Sunday at her birthday party. When you were in the hospital, the day they told Daddy and I the outlook wasn’t good Mommy had to come home and limit the information we told Riley. We would be assisted with the Child Life specialists the next day. As we were getting in the house she said “I’m going to make Charlie the special guest at my birthday party”. I didn’t know what to do I cried so hard. She insisted you would be okay but I knew. Not because the doctors suspected it. but I knew I could feel it in my gut and I hated it and I kept trying to bury the feeling and deny it. The next morning I was so numb and so confused. We packed some of your favourite toys I tried to find the noisiest ones to wake you up. I got so mad and fixated on finding your Cory Carson when Riley came up to me and said “Mommy... I think Charlie would rather us just be there than you find his Cory” Then she just took charge packing things. I was so proud of her. I think she knew too. I wanted to just throw up. She’s hoping your elves Glitter and Gar show up in the morning. I think she’s only expecting Glitter. After you passed a few days later she sadly asked if I thought Gar passed too. Garland came after you were born and was connected to you. I think Gar will be here tomorrow. I think he will be sad. He will miss you horribly. I’m not sure what they will say. Because none of this makes any sense not even the elves can explain the pain away. She loves them dearly though. Almost as much as she loved you. You were her whole world. She’s not herself lately and I’m very worried for her. It could be just because I’m hyper alert now. But she does feel lonely. Maybe the elves can help her feel a little bit better and less alone. Maybe they can remind her we are here and you are forever in touch.

#childloss #toddlerloss #death #grief #griefjourney #grievingmom #grievingfamily #mitochondrialdisease #leighssyndrome #CharlieGunnar

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theemumemoirs · 2 years

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Subject: The Chabad Family on Seward Street

Prior to leaving for my college experience, my religion had never been a central part of my identity, merely a footnote. I had always loved being Jewish, but that love did not revolve around the religion itself, rather, the traditions performed specifically by my own family. As time went on, my parents became less religious. I began to see that the truth of the matter is that my mother's religion was rooted in guilt and shame (parts of Judaism tend to ask that of you) and my father's religion was an act, directed by my mother in order to give us children a beautiful glimpse into a world connected to us by blood and history. His faith was individual, private, and based primarily in logic.

Once I left for college, I noticed a sizable gap in my world. My mother had not come in for bedtime prayers since I was 8; as a family we had not celebrated Shabbas since I was 13. But among so many students with their goyish cherub faces, prep school backgrounds and crosses around their necks, I felt suddenly isolated without knowledge of exactly why.

Rosh Hashana is one of two most holy days of the Jewish year. It is technically our new year celebration, but it is far more than noise makers, fireworks, and smiling plastic faces in Times Square on TV. It is a holiday of reflection, of self-examination. It is 3 days of meditation, rumination, love, and humor. My first Rosh Hashana away from home, I wandered into the school gardens, where I knew there was a creek--perfect for the annual Tashlik, a ceremony that involves throwing pieces of stale bread into moving water. We say our prayers, think of something we want to better in ourselves and our actions, and thrust crumbs into the ripples and away from our earthly bodies. For 18 years I had done this with my family and my congregation. This year, alone, the task felt artificial and silly. I was about to turn and leave when I saw a family on the crook's little wooden bridge. A mother, father, two young boys, and twin toddlers strapped tight into a stroller, rocking back and forth in their song and throwing bread into the water. Once they saw me, there was absolutely no hesitation--they called me over.

When I explained my presence, they were overjoyed. My spirituality being tethered to me, despite the lack supervision or consequence if I did not partake, inspired large smiles and jubilant energy. I cooed at their youngest and nodded towards the boys and became hooked on their mission, to bring Judaism to our campus. I had found an anchor to hold my faith's ship in my years at sea. I would go on to take a Sinai Scholars course, learn to make challah, learn how to observe shabbas in a way I never had, and learn to love my faith more than I thought possible.

I took these photographs 4 years after we met, and these photos are nearly 4 years old themselves. Their family has grown since then, thus making this portrait obsolete, but the same love that emanated from them on the bridge is present here in these faces.

This year, I return to college for my 5 year reunion. Memories of my college years are hardly the best, but the chance to feel the warmth of the Rubin's open home once again is a chance I would not pass up for the world.

#family portrait #family photography #chabad #familypictures #judaism #faith #tradition #spiritual development #family #celebrate

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years

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Made Her Cry (John Watson X Sister!Reader, Mycroft X Fem!Reader)

Characters: John Watson X Sister!Reader, Mycroft X Fem!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Insults, mention of violence

Request: So, the idea is that John have a little sister, and when she goes to live at 221B, she falls in love at first sight for Myc, but as she falls deeper, he starts to treat her worse. Until one day he makes her cry, and John goes to Mycroft's office to have a "smol chat", and then he realizes that Mycroft is also in love for her, but if since he have a lot of enemies, they might see her as a target to get to him. To what John answer that he should grow a bit more courage to face things.

John had always been protective of you, ever since his parents had brought you home when he was a young child. It was one of his first memories, he could still picture the moment that his mum placed you in his arms, and he looked down at your little face as you slept soundly, a little hat on your head, and mittens on your hands that matched your onesie, and his dad telling him that since he was now a big brother, he had an important role now: to keep his little sister safe.

The role was something he’d taken to a duck to water- he held your hand when you were a toddler when you crossed the street together, he picked you up when you fell over and checked you weren’t hurt, and him starting to clean your cuts and bruises and put plasters on them before he was even 10 was probably the first signs that he would become a doctor. Even when he became an adult and you were a teenager, he was still protective of you, judging and questioning boyfriends and even friends who he thought were bad news, driving to get you when you went to parties or to hang out with friends so you didn’t get on the bus, train or in a taxi alone, and he was then when you were upset and needed to cry to someone. He hated seeing you cry.

So when he came home to find his baby sister with wet red eyes and breaking down at the mere sight of her brother, he was furious, and he knew exactly who was to blame for it. Mycroft.

He saw that you were alright first- he held you and comforted you until all your emotions were out, having you relay to him what had upset you- and he was right. It was Myrcoft. John knew that you’d fallen for Sherlock’s brother. He didn’t understand what you saw in him, but in the beginning he gave it to Mycroft- he was significantly better than some of your previous love interests, and since John knew him personally, he thought he knew the man. He did remind you that Myrcroft was a busy man who didn’t do well in social situations so might not pick up on your romantic intentions, but your heart was set on him. You always lit up when you saw him, saying hello, asking how he was, and if it wasn’t alright, letting him ramble to you and helping him in whatever way you could. If you knew that Myrcoft was coming around or you were going to see him, you would put the effort in to look your best. Even Sherlock picked up on it, and asked John what you saw in him. As expected, it seemed that Mycroft was ignorant to your attempts to get his attention, and John had expressed his worry to you, but you assured him you were fine, and that you didn’t want to push to hard and make him uncomfortable. However, it wasn’t long after that conversation that things turned sour. Myrcoft’s conversations with you, that used to be fluent and never dull, became short, simple and awkward. And then the comments started. It started as general annoyance when you were around, quickly excusing himself, but then he made a comment to you. The first one was burned into his head, as he was there when he said it. “Y/N, I don’t have time for you, please leave me alone.” It hadn’t been too harsh, but it rubbed John the wrong way, especially because he saw your smile drop when he said it. Since then, his attitude with you got worse. He became sarcastic, almost mocking you at times. He became cruel to you. Yet you still put in the effort to be kind to him. He’d asked Sherlock about what was wrong with Mycroft, but even he was confused about what was going on.

“What did he do?” John asked you as he held you.

“He-” You hiccuped, trying to gather yourself. “He just- he was so angry with me, but I don’t know what he did, he just started yelling, he told me he wanted nothing to do with me and that I was a burden…”

John could practically feel his blood on fire hearing that, and he had to swallow it down for the time being, calming you down, and setting you up an afternoon with friends and plans to keep you busy for at least a few hours, long enough to locate Myrcoft and resolve this.

His first step was to ask Sherlock. He went to text him, but knowing he didn’t want to wait for a response, he instead called his phone, holding his phone to his ear as he walked down the steps of the flat, and heading onto the street. Sherlock finally answered his phone. “John?”

“Sherlock, do you know where Mycroft is right now?” John asked him. There was a second of silence from Sherlock.

“He’s done something to Y/N, hasn’t he?”

“Yes he did, do you know where he is?” John repeated.

“Yes- he should be at home right now. If he’s not there let me know and I’ll help you locate him.” Sherlock responded. Sherlock had gotten to know you as you spent a good amount of time at the flat to see John, and he’d actually come to like you.

“Thanks.” John said shortly, hanging up, and hailing down a cab.

John tried to think about what he was going to do exactly when he found Mycroft during the drive. He hadn’t thought about that, and honestly he had no idea. He could turn back around, sit you down and tell you that sometimes life isn’t fair and to move on and do better, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He’d always protected you and been there for you, it wasn’t going to change now, and more importantly, Mycroft made you cry. He needed to answer for that.

As soon as the cab had stopped, John paid, got out, taking long strides to the front door of Mycroft’s home, and knocked on the door as hard as he could without hurting himself. When he stopped, he started counting down in his head from 10, and right before he reached 0 and was going to knock again, the door opened, and he was met by Mycroft. It was clear from his expression that he knew exactly John was there. “John- listen-”

“No, you listen!” John blew up, pointing at him, pushing by to get into the house, standing with him into the entrance. “Do you think before you speak? Do you have any idea about how much your words have hurt Y/N?”

“John, I know I’ve hurt Y/N-”

“Oh you know? You meant to hurt her? You meant to make my sister cry?” John couldn’t help the anger growing inside of him. Mycroft hesitated with his words.

“I… I didn’t mean to make her cry.” He admitted. “I just… John, please, let me explain.”

“Explain? Explain what? Why you’ve been nothing but horrible to Y/n when I know she’s been doing her best to make you like her?”

“I do like her, John! That’s the problem!” Mycroft admitted quickly, and just as quick as John’s anger had took over, so had confusion. Myrcoft sighed, realising he had a moment at last to start to explain. “I… care about your sister. I do. I’d do anything for her… But you have to understand… my job comes with negatives. One being that I automatically have a lot of enemies, people who want to hurt me and those I care about. I know Sherlock can handle himself, but if something were to happen to Y/N because of her association to me, I’d never forgive myself.”

“So you’re pushing her away to keep her safe?” John asked, getting a nod in confirmation from the man in front of him. Now John was conflicted. Him and Mycroft shared one thing in common at this moment- they want to protect you. He respected Mycroft for that… but it still didn’t sit right to him. “So why haven’t you told her that? Hm? Why didn’t you tell her the truth instead of calling her a burden and being so horrible to her?”

“I… I wanted to, but I panicked at the moment… Can you tell her I’m sorry?” Mycroft asked.

“No. I will not. You can do it yourself.” John told him strictly, and he saw the panic in Mycroft’s eyes. “You hurt her, you can tell her you're sorry. You can tell her the truth, because that’s what she deserves, and if you’re too much of a coward to do that, then stay the hell away from my sister.” John pointed, before making his leave of the house, finding the driver had left, but he didn’t care. He just started to walk, and hoped his talking had gotten through to Mycroft.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @holy-tea-cup-blog @sassy-specter @keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

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Babysitting Duty

Summary: while Scott and Clint are away on a mission, you and Wanda are stuck with babysitting duty

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: some harsh language

Word Count: 5,117

"Your asses had better not leave the yard, got it?"

"Please don't swear at the kids."

"They're being little shits!" You insisted.

Wanda glared at you from where she was sat on the couch, cradling two-year-old Nathaniel, who had fallen asleep in her arms a few minutes ago. You scowled back at her as you moved to the other seat, closer to the open window, so that you could see and hear Lila and Cassie running around in the backyard. Lila ducked into the shed for a moment, re-emerging with a soccer ball. She kicked it toward Cassie.

Clint and Scott had taken up an offer to go on a mission with Natasha across the country. You didn't pry as to why she needed them specifically. Laura was in Los Angeles visiting some family, meanwhile Maggie and Jim were taking a vacation in the tropics. That had left Scott and Clint in need of a babysitter, and you'd been volunteered for the job. Now, you and Wanda were stuck at Clint's farmhouse for a few days until Laura got back. You were only in charge of Cassie, Lila, and Nathaniel, with Cooper having gone to stay with a friend while his parents were out of town.

"Why don't you go put him down?" You suggested to Wanda, the scowl on your face replaced by a soft smile.

Wanda shook her head. She didn't even bother to stand, instead simply laying him down on the couch they were sitting on. He whined a little as he left her arms, but after she'd stroked his head a couple times, he settled as soundly as he had been. She stood and crossed the room, sitting down next to you. Your arm moved around her waist and she leaned against you, legs curling up to her chest. You kissed the side of her head as you glanced out the window quickly to check up on the girls.

"What do you think about what Tony said?" She asked quietly.

You turned to stare at her. Her light green eyes flickered up to meet your gaze. It put a smile on her face. Her hand reached for yours, taking it and intertwining your fingers. You played with her hand.

"One day."

After getting the babysitting gig, you hadn't exactly been ecstatic. You were an Avenger, not a babysitter. Anytime Clint and Scott weren't around to hear, you'd repeat those words to whoever was close enough to listen. Most of them got that. They thought the same. It's why everyone had tried so hard to avoid the two men for those few days. When you'd gotten stuck with it, Natasha had even gone so far as to laugh at you.

You were good at avoiding. You'd practiced it all your anti-social life. So, it wasn't your fault that you'd be assigned babysitter. It was Wanda's. Clint had managed to corner her one day. Their relationship was a strange one. He'd cared for Pietro, and Pietro had cared enough for Clint to give up his life for him. Now, the surviving Maximoff and the archer had some sort of bond. That bond had made it impossible for her to say no to babysitting the toddler that was named after her brother.

Stuck with two kids anyway, you figured you might as well take care of Cassie at this point. Once you'd been nominated babysitter, though, Tony had taken it upon yourself to never leave you alone. It seemed, for those few days after you'd agreed to take care of the kids, Tony was around every single corner. You wouldn't have been surprised to learn he had been using the security cameras to keep track of you, because no matter how hard you tried to hide from him, he was there.

He was teasing you relentlessly about your having to babysit. Unlike the rest of them, Tony wasn't teasing you because you, an Avenger, were stuck with a 16-year-old high schooler's job. He was teasing you because you were stuck at a nice little home in the country with three kids and your girlfriend. He insisted, every time he saw you, that this was going to be good practice for your future. Wanda had blushed furiously the first time he'd said it. You'd shooed him away.

As much as you hated dealing with the billionaire and his stupid smirk when he'd approach you to tease you about practicing for your own kids, you would deal with it. Wanda would always turn away with a tomato-red blush burning on her cheeks, and so you would always find a way to give her an escape to stick around and take Tony's taunting yourself. Mostly you just ignored him, but he was persistent if nothing else.

Tony had driven you absolutely mad with his stupid suggestive tone and heckling comments. That was undeniable. Sometimes, you even wanted to take him down to the ring just for a reason to drive your fist into his gut. But after a long day of work and having to hear him go on and on, you'd climb into your bed, or sometimes Wanda's, fall asleep for the night, and dream up the pictures that he'd painted into your head.

There were two or three kids. One of them was always a boy. You were just getting home from somewhere, and Wanda was in the backyard of your house, watching the children play. The boy would be with one of the other kids, but when you approached Wanda and slid an arm around her waist, he'd run up to you. You'd ruffle a hand in his hair, and he'd giggle, light green eyes casting up to look at you. He had Wanda's eyes. You'd reach down and pick him up, kissing his cheek as he continued to laugh.

"Hi, Momma," he'd say.

"Hello, Pietro," you would reply every time. "Were you good for your mom today?"

Then he would nod and squirm a little, desperate to get back to his brothers or sisters. You'd set him down on his feet and he'd dash back to the others. You would lean into Wanda, then, kissing her softly. She would kiss you back, just as gently and lovingly as she did in your waking life. No words would be exchanged as you guided her to the bench swing, pulling her close and smiling as you both turned to watch your children laugh and play together.

It was just a dream, and it was entirely Tony's fault, you were sure. He'd put the idea of a family into your head and now you couldn't get it out. You'd always known you wanted kids and, even though you might not have known her all too long, you knew it was Wanda you wanted them with. She was your everything and you wouldn't want anything without her. Your future didn't exist without Wanda Maximoff.

"I've seen those dreams you've been having."

That honestly didn't surprise you too much. She'd seen your dreams on occasion. You'd learned that when you'd woken up absolutely drenched in sweat one night after a particularly inappropriate dream involving a particular witch. She'd watched your eyes open and immediately straddled your waist, promising to make your dream come true. You hadn't gone back to sleep that night, and it was clear as day that she had seen every single detail of that dream.

She was a mind reader. It wasn't hard for her to see just what was going on in your head; conscious or not. So, as you slept, she was able to see those images of you and she with your cozy little house and little Pietro smiling up at the both of you. It didn't surprise you, but it did make you a little nervous to know she'd seen them. You didn't want to seem like you were rushing into things at a pace that she wasn't ready for. You would wait forever for her.

You'd talked about it with her before. It was nothing too serious. It had been a simple conversation, the two of you discussing where you thought you might be five or ten years down the road. When you'd talked about it, the two of you hadn't been dating yet. You'd just been friends, both wanting to be more. It had been a quiet night, and you'd wanted to take her mind off Pietro, who had died only four months earlier.

Wanda pictured her future as a quieter life. She wanted a nice home on a quaint little street where she wanted a family, someone to love and maybe a couple of kids down the road. She'd told you she wasn't sure yet, if she wanted to continue being an Avenger. She hadn't always been fond of the sort of action you guys saw, but she knew she had the power to help people. Her heart was good. She couldn't just ignore that fact.

Your vision had been a little different. You were absolutely sure that you wanted to continue being an Avenger. You were a hero through and through. You couldn't imagine a life where you weren't doing what you did now: keeping people safe. You wanted to stay in New York, but maybe moving out into the suburbs in the outskirts of the city. You, too, wanted to start a family someday. Avenging could be a day job, you'd assured.

Then you'd gotten together. You'd admitted your feelings, you'd gone on some dates, and quickly, you'd fallen deeply in love with her. That dream of a future was still one you had: An Avenger by day and a wife and mother by night. At some point, though, that woman you saw yourself having that family with had become Wanda. Suddenly, you couldn't see it any other way. For a long time, you'd kept that from her. Now, though, she knew, and you were glad she did.

"What do you think of it? The dream," you asked carefully.

Wanda didn't answer right away. Her eyes had cast out the window to watch Cassie and Lila run through the yard, passing the ball between each other before Cassie turned and kicked it into the net. They both cheered loudly, raising their arms in the air, smiling widely, and high fiving. Their excitement made Wanda smile too. Her gaze turned back away from the yard and back to you, searching your face carefully. You let her study every detail of your eyes.

"I think it's beautiful."

Any life with her would have been beautiful. Anything with her was beautiful. You were absolutely sure Wanda Maximoff was the most beautiful thing in the world and there was nothing that could have changed your mind. The Avengers teased you sometimes. Natasha had teased one day, that you looked at your girlfriend as if she were the most exquisite piece in an art museum. You'd only assured her that no piece of art ever held a candle to the Sokovian.

"Would you..." You trailed off and took a breath, trying to figure out just what you were asking. "Would you consider it one day?"

Wanda didn't hesitate a millisecond. "I don't have to consider it. One day, Sweetheart."

That warmed you to your very soul. You put your hands on your cheeks and turned her face toward yours. You pressed your lips together, the feeling never failing to make your eyes flutter shut. You savoured the so familiar taste of her against your lips as you let your hands slide; one moved to the back of her neck to hold her close, and the other came to rest on her thigh. It wasn't a long kiss. It didn't need to be. It only took a few seconds to convey to her something words never could.

"How many?" She asked.

You laughed. "Two or three? What do you think, Baby?"

"Three," she hummed softly.

You couldn't believe that Tony was fucking right. Here you were with the woman you loved so dearly, babysitting your coworkers’ kids, and imagining having ones of your own someday. You had to admit, you did like it. They were a bit of a handful, that much was for sure, but you loved it. You loved watching their smiles, watching them play and laugh, and joining them in their fun and games. You loved seeing how Wanda would sit with them, cradle Nathaniel close, and read the girls bedtime stories. The thought of having this with her made your heart swell.

"Alright, where would we live?" You asked with a soft laugh.

"We'll stay near New York," she assured. "My big strong Avenger."

You laughed when she teasingly squeezed one of your biceps. You flexed a little, pressing the muscles against her hand. At this, the touches to your arm weren't so teasing. Her fingers traced the lines of the defined muscles that lay beneath your skin. You breathed out a quiet laugh, grabbing her hand and gently kissing against her knuckles. Her hand hesitated at your mouth as she ran the pad of her thumb across your bottom lip.

"Port Washington?" You offered. "Maybe a little way outside the city or in northern Jersey? I know you want to raise a family in a small town and New York City isn't exactly that."

She pressed her lips against your neck for a moment. "I love you."

You breathed out. "I love you, too."

She pulled away, moving to touch your knee instead. You put a hand over top of hers, turning to check on Cassie and Lila again. They'd taken to sitting in the grass, leaning against a tree trunk, and talking quietly. You weren't sure what about, but you were just glad that they seemed to still be having a good time. You slid Wanda's hand off your knee so that you could stand up.

"I'm just going to grab a snack for the girls," you kissed her cheek. "When I'm back, you can let me know if you've got any more ideas for this life of ours, huh?"

Wanda nodded.

You moved into the kitchen, opening up the pantry and putting together a couple of PB and Js, cutting them in half and setting them on the counter. You then mixed a few glasses of lemonade, put everything on a tray, and headed briefly back to the living room to hand one glass to Wanda, before heading out the back door. You whistled merrily, catching the girls' attention. They both smiled at your approach, and you settled into the grass beside them.

"For you."

They thanked you repeatedly, taking a plate and a glass each. You took your own glass, sitting back and sipping it as the cool breeze blew through your hair. You crossed your legs, watching their girls bite into their sandwiches. You tried to think back to what you'd been talking about at their age. You'd been in grade school and had often been in the schoolyard with your friends talking about boys. Well... they'd talk about boys and you would hesitate and make something up because you didn't know who the hell you liked.

"So, what are we talking about today, girls?"

"Lila was just telling me about a boy named Sam."

"Cassie!"

"What?" Cassie defended. "She's not gonna tell!"

You nodded. "Cassie is right, kid. I'm the best secret keeper probably ever."

Lila seemed to ponder this for a moment. It was a blatant lie, though. Every secret that was told to you was also told to Wanda, but it didn't go past there. You couldn't keep things from her. It was like she could pull anything from you with just a simple gaze from those light eyes. Even if you didn't tell her, she was a mind reader. Either she'd hear it from your lips, or she'd hear it running through your brain at one point or another.

Lila seemed to be contemplating this. "Okay. Well, there's this boy in my class. His name is Sam. I really like him."

"Oh, yeah?" You asked, sipping your lemonade. "So why don't you tell him that?"

"No! I can't tell him."

"Why not?" You scoffed. "What's the worst that could happen, Li? He either likes you back or he doesn't."

You'd always had trouble with your own advice. If you admitted your feelings to someone and they told you they didn't feel that same way, you felt awkward for months after that. But you were an adult. Lila was eleven. Even if kids these days were growing up way faster than you did, you knew that things were a lot more complex when you were a little more grown up. In a year or two, then she'd start realizing that.

"What about you, Cas? Any boys in your class you've got an eye on?" You winked.

Cassie didn't seem to find this very amusing though. Suddenly, it seemed, her sandwich wasn't very appetizing, and the lemonade had lost its sweetness. Her gaze moved to somewhere no one could meet it, locking to the ground as her fingers began playing absentmindedly with the grass. You tilted your head to the side curiously. You glanced over at Lila, but she didn't seem to know the reason for this either.

"Lila, could you give us a minute?" You asked the older of the girls. "Why don't you go see what Wanda is up to?"

Lila nodded and scampered off. She ran to the house and in the back door, and you watched in the window as she appeared beside Wanda. You saw her explaining something to the Sokovian, likely just trying to express that her friend was upset. You turned your focus to Cassie, who was busying herself by pulling a few blades of grass out of the ground. You didn't try to stop her, the fidgeting obviously calming her anxiety.

"What if..." She took a deep breath as she trailed off. "What if I think I like like a girl?"

Cassie Lang was ten years old. That's around the same age you started wondering what the other girls saw in boys. You hadn't realized as young as she did that you'd liked girls, but you knew something about you was different. At that age, you'd thought maybe something was wrong with you. It had taken you a few years to realize you weren't broken, just different. It had taken you even longer to realize that was okay.

You knew Cassie probably felt more comfortable asking one of her babysitters this question than anyone else. She trusted her parents and her stepdad, and she loved them, that much was clear. With them, though, she watched a man love a woman. With you, she watched you love Wanda the same way Scott loved Hope. She watched you do something she was feeling in herself. It made everything seem a little more normal and a little more okay. You knew that much from experience.

"Cas, look at me, Sweetheart," you said gently. Cassie looked up at you. "You can like whoever you want to like, and you can be whoever you want to be."

"But at school, all the girls like boys and I don't. Why don't I? I just want to be the same."

"Because not everyone is the same, and that's okay. You don't think there's anything wrong with me, do you?"

"No."

"No. And I love a girl. Isn't that okay?"

"Yeah."

Maybe it was a bit of a guilt trip, but it got Cassie to look up. You watched as her eyes travelled from you, to Wanda, and back. There was no longer any trace of nerves or anxiety on the young girl. It had instead been replaced by curiosity. It seemed your little pep talk had actually worked. She seemed more at ease after assurance that she didn't need to be normal. You knew that wasn't it for those nerves, you even got them yourself once in a while, but you were glad to have put her at ease for a while.

"Kiddo, are you going to talk to your mom or dad about this?"

As honoured as you were that you'd felt to be a safe person to come out to, you weren't really the person that she should be going to for support. Her mother and father would give her that. You didn't know Maggie well, but you knew Scott. He would be unconditionally supportive and wouldn't hesitate to reassure her if she ever felt like this again and if there were someone who didn't, he'd make sure to immediately remove that person from their life.

"I think I'm gonna talk to my dad when he gets home. Can you talk to him for me?"

"I can give him a little heads up, but you're going to have to be the one to actually talk to him."

She took a deep breath but nodded. "Okay."

You smiled proudly.

You sat with Cassie for a little while longer in that spot. Following your conversation, she seemed to be feeling better. She was eating and drinking again as she told you a little about this girl she was sweet on. You didn't comment too much, smiling and nodding along as she told you stories about the schoolyard. Soon enough you were once again trading places with Lila. The two girls resumed their gossiping in the grass, and you moved back to sit with your girlfriend once more.

When you sat down next to Wanda, glancing at a still sleeping Nathaniel as you moved, you immediately turned to the window. The two preteens had already regained that same calm expression they had been sporting earlier. Satisfied that they were both alright, now, you turned back to Wanda. She was watching you carefully, eyes flickering down to peek at the smile on your lips. You beckoned her to come back against you like she had been before you left.

"You and Cassie seemed to have quite the heart-to-heart," she hummed quietly as she leaned back against your side and your arm snaked around her.

"She confessed she might have a crush on a girl."

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Well, I see why you were a safe person to confess that to."

You chuckled and kissed the side of her head. "Yeah, I do, too. I gave her a little bit of reassurance before telling her she should really talk to Scott or Maggie."

Wanda nodded in agreement. She reached out to the table to grab the glass of lemonade you'd made for her, sipping it quietly. The cool glass pressed against your arm when she lowered it, sending a shiver throughout your body. She seemed to notice this, as she laughed, moving the cold cup up to your cheek. The condensation that coated it transferred onto your skin and you frowned, pushing her hand away. She laughed a little harder.

"So, what did you come up with?" You asked her. "I seem to remember asking you to come up with some more details."

"You did. So, I wondered what Pietro's siblings' names might be?"

You froze. That was from your dream. You knew she'd been seeing it, but you still got a little curious when she brought up the more minor details. You turned to look at her, curiosity burning in your chest. Pietro was her brother, not yours. You wondered briefly if she even wanted to name any children she might have in the future after the brother she'd lost.

"Pietro," you repeated softly. "Is that okay?"

"Fuck, Honey."

Wanda rarely swore, so when she did, you knew she was feeling something strong. You were assured it was a good feeling, though, when she grabbed you and pulled you toward herself roughly. Your lips connected and you felt the intensity in her kiss. You didn't dare be the one to pull away from this, letting her show you how she was feeling through the intimate touch. When she finally did, her hands were immediately in yours.

"Thank you. He meant the world to me and you mean so, so much to me, too and... thank you, Honey."

"You don't have to thank me, Baby. He deserves it," you assured, a hand on her cheek. "But did you have other ideas too?"

She nodded. "I did. We'll obviously discuss more when the occasion arises, right?"

"Right," you agreed with a laugh. "So?"

"I like the name Tommy. It's cute, don't you think?"

"I do think so," you hummed.

You don't know what it was, but something had you so drawn to her in this moment. You wanted to pull her close and never let her go. Granted, you wanted that most of the time. Right now, though, the thought of releasing her from where you had her flush against your side, her head resting so softly on your shoulder, made your heart feel a little weaker. As if she could feed that absolute need radiating off of you, she kissed your shoulder and put her hand into yours, squeezing tight.

"Any girls' names you like?"

Wanda stopped to ponder. "Violet."

"That's cute too," you smiled at the thought of your family. "You're pretty good at this, my dear," you paused for a moment. "So, Pietro, Tommy, and Violet Maximoff?"

She hesitated at hearing that. Her head moved off your shoulder, and you immediately missed the lack of pressure. You had to suppress a quiet whine as you glanced over at the curious eyes that were peering at you. You cocked your head to the side, in the movement, willing her to tell you what was going on inside her head. You felt as though her eyes could see into your very soul with the way she was watching you.

"Maximoff," she finally said.

"Yeah. I like it," you told her. "And doesn't my name sound so good with your last?"

You didn't even have to say the name aloud. Just hearing it in her own mind had a shiver running through her body- something you felt it against your own. She didn't have to say aloud, either, that she loved the idea. You knew she did. You both did. It was something that made you entirely hers. You were entirely hers. You belonged to Wanda Maximoff and her last name attached to your first would prove that to anyone.

"One day," Wanda said, repeating the words you'd spoken earlier. "One day you'll be my Mrs. Maximoff."

It was your turn to hesitate at those words. You were both talking about this as if it were inevitable. As far as you were concerned, it was. You couldn't even picture a life that didn't have Wanda in it. You didn't want to. You wanted to be her wife and live in a small house in the suburbs and raise children with her. You wanted all of it so bad you could hardly fathom it. You turned to her, making sure to catch her eyes.

"Did we just get engaged?" You teased.

You hadn't, but you had. All engagement was, was a promise to be each other's and to get married. There was no time limit on that. In the last little while, you'd promised that to each other. You had both promised each other this entire life that you could see laid out before you. Neither of you had been discussing it as if it were a possibility, but more as an inevitability. That sure sounded like a promise to you.

"I don't know," Wanda admitted. "We agreed we'd get married one day."

"Yeah," you agreed. "We definitely did."

Then you decided to make it less of a question as to what had or had not happened. You slid away from her and stood up off the couch. You took a knee on the floor, bringing her hand into yours. Your heart was thumping so loud in your chest that you had to wonder whether or not she could hear it from where she sat. Judging by the way her eyes widened, though, you thought that maybe her own heartbeat was drowning it out.

You didn't think this was how you'd do this. Sure, you'd many times thought about how you'd one day propose to Wanda. In none of those scenarios was she sitting on the couch in Clint's living room whilst Nathaniel slept ten feet away with Lila and Cassie's giggles floating in through the window. They were usually a lot more romantic than this. You couldn't find it in yourself to care. This was the moment. You could feel it.

"So let me clear up the confusion," you offered, eyes not leaving hers. "Wanda Maximoff, I cannot picture my life without this little suburban house and these sweet little kids and you, my love. I will walk to the ends of the Earth and back for you. I'd give you my heart and my soul in an instant if you wanted me to. Will you marry me?"

Wanda didn't seem to be able to find her voice. Her expression was one of shock. Her jaw had dropped a little, and her eyes were wide, watering a little. You wanted more than anything to reach out and wipe those tears away and to kiss her cheeks, even if they weren't tears of sorrow. But your knee was glued to the floor until she gave you an answer. She seemed to collect herself, then. Her hands wiped at her eyes, her lips curled into a smile, and then, finally, she nodded.

"Yes. Of course, yes."

She pulled you back onto the couch. It might have been a little far, with your knees on either side of her waist. The two girls could have walked in at any moment. But you were so completely happy that there was absolutely nothing that would have stopped you from resting your arms on her shoulders, linking your hands behind her neck, and kissing her like you needed her more than you needed oxygen in your lungs. You supposed you might have. She finally pushed you away.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, beautiful fiancée of mine," you teased. "I guess Tony was right then, huh? The babysitting gig was good for us."

She laughed and then buried herself in your embrace. You held her there, not a single care in the world, knowing she was yours and you were hers. One day you would have a life a little like this one. You and she together with a family of your own and so much love around you.

It was all thanks to the stupid, stupid babysitting gig.

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #mcu #wlw #lesbian

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

...oops |rowaelin month- day 5|

rowaelin masterlist

an: i had a dream about this and i kind of hate the ending buttt enjoy! :)

word count: 3,988

“You did what?”

It wouldn’t take a genius to note that twenty one year- old Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was fuming. And it would have been to no one’s surprise if the princess herself brought the very palace down in flames herself in a matter of moments.

The Queen of Terrasen sighed and with a small shake of her head, daintily placed her teacup on the table in front of her. With her hands crossed in her lap, she turned her blue gaze to her daughter’s twin one, this one holding a fire many would cower from despite the girl’s young age. But it seemed that Evalin Ashryver feared no one but the gods, and she faced her daughter’s seeth head-on.

“Fireheart-”

“An arranged marriage? I wasn’t aware I was a doll who’s life you can just play with. Is this top okay or would you like to change me into a new pretty dress?”

Evalin merely rolled her eyes at her only daughter, allowing her to rant and fume as she pleased for what seemed like hours before the princess finally collapsed into the chair beside her, blue in the face and a vein popping out of her forehead.

“Fireheart,” she began again, this time gentler. “You have to understand, your father and I are simply doing what we believe is best for the country. For our people.”

“By selling me away? I’m not a child anymore mother, and I can make my own decisions just fine.” The anger had vanished, now replaced by a look of utter despair in the princess’ eyes as she gazed at her mother, an attempt to delay what she knew was inevitable.

“We know that Aelin, of course we do, and we would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. Terrasen is… is struggling right now, my love. You may be our only hope.”

The look in her mother’s eyes settled something in her chest and she realized there would be no fighting this- although she most certainly would try. Her parents were set on an arranged marriage for the Princess of Terrasen.

And as she stormed through the door of her chambers, Aelin’s thoughts settled on one in particular.

The Prince of Doranelle better be handsome.

The Wild Princess of Terrasen, they called her.

Well- Aelin thought as she gunned the Corvette through the streets of the capital- if they wanted a wild princess, a wild princess is what they would get.

She remembered a time where her mother had rolled her eyes when her daughter had told her she wanted a Corvette for her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even have a license, and she would never be driving herself, so what good would it do?

Aelin smirked. Apparently they were perfect for fits of rage.

She vaguely remembered a few lessons Brullo had given her when she had managed to bribe the grumpy body guard with cookies enough for him to teach her how to drive- unbeknownst to her mother, of course. Aelin bet that Evalin Ashryver would just about have a heart attack if she knew her daughter could drive.

Aelin swerved into the left lane without her turn signal, earning an angry honk and a few unkind words from the car behind her.

Well- sort of knew how to drive.

Oops, she thought. From then on, she turned her speed down just a bit.

As Aelin careened through the streets of Terrasen, she realized that as a princess, she truly had been deprived of her own country. Sure, she had been escorted through the streets during the annual parade, and her father used to take her to Malakai’s for her favorite cake every once in a while, but the streets she drove through now were unknown to her.

She passed jogging college kids and mothers with strollers and toddlers, couples holding hands and homeless people that scattered some of the streets. The sight made her heart clench and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

Aelin was so focused on the people around her, she forgot to look forward as she drove through a glaring red light. Luckily there were barely any other cars around her, and the only indication that she had done something wrong came from a distinctly aggravated male voice screaming, “What the fu-”

“Shit!”

Aelin slammed her foot down on the breaks as her gaze came into contact with a man in front of her- she was going full speed towards him as she tried crossing the cross walk. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of him, but the momentum proved to be too much as the Corvette did in fact make contact with him.

She thought time slowed down as the man went shooting to the ground with a groan of pain.

Yes, she had just hit a man with her car.

But her mother was going to absolute assassinate her.

Another loud groan from outside the window had Aelin shoving the car into park and flying out to the man in front of her, heart in her throat.

As she took in the man, she wondered what the odds were of hitting a person with your car and having them be one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Pretty low, Aelin would think, but like everything else in her life, statistics did not seem to be on her side.

The man was clearly young, maybe a few years older than her, and even though he wore a thick winter jacket to protect him from the Terrasen winter, he was clearly built like a greek god. With silver hair almost matching the snow around him and tan skin that signaled to Aelin he clearly wasn’t from around here, the man could have been on the front page of any popular magazine.

“Fuck!”

Aelin kneeled down beside the man who was thankfully still conscious, face scrunched up in pain and clear anger. It made him look older, she thought as she finally looked at his eyes. They were a stunning green. She wanted to hit herself with her car. Of course they were.

“A-are you okay?” She helped him up, placing a hand on his lower back and pushing him up until he sat forward enough until he could support himself.

The man glared at her, teeth clenched in pain as his gaze burned into her own.

“Are you crazy?” he growled, his voice even deeper than Aelin thought it would have been. “Am I okay? You just hit me with your fucking car!”

Aelin jerked her hand away from him, suddenly defensive. “Look, I am so sorry. I- I wasn’t looking where I was driving and-”

The man scoffed. “Obviously.”

Aelin saw red.

“Well what the fuck were you doing on a crosswalk two seconds before the light turned red? You had plenty of time to move out of the way and you’re blaming me because you couldn’t look around?”

It was moments like these where Aelin realized why Elide’s fiancee liked to call her ‘fire breathing bitch queen.’ Sure, she could acknowledge it. She had just hit the guy with her car, and Aelin had foung a way to blame him.

“Maybe if you had been less careless about crashing Daddy’s car you would have been a bit more careful and we wouldn’t be here right now, Princess.”

Aelin almost slapped him, if not for the derogatory way her title slipped through his tongue. And that was when she realized that he had no idea who she was. The man in front of her didn’t look like an idiot. He wouldn’t be insulting her if he knew who she was. And Aelin realized she didn’t want him to know. Not as the words that spilled through her lips could ruin her entire legacy.

“Watch it.” The words were low and dangerous, and something flashed in the man’s eyes that signaled to her than he had caught the anger lacing her tone. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t think I need to. Nor do I care enough to want to.”

“Well you’re clearly fine, if you can spew ridiculous insults out of your head at the drop of a dime,” Aelin deadpanned. “So, can we wrap this up?”

“Gladly.” He made to get up, placing his weight on his arm as he pushed himself upward, cutting off with a loud gasp of pain before sinking back to the ground, his green eyes alight with agony. The sight made a pang shoot through Aelin’s chest and she grabbed his arm to steady him before his momentum his head careening toward the ground.

“Shit, we need to take you to the hospital.” She rose, already on her way back to the car.

“No way am I going anywhere with you.”

“That’s fine.” Aelin’s smile was purely saccharine. “You can stay here if you’d like. It’s supposed to drop to -10 in a few hours when the sun goes down but you look pretty toasty to me. Of course, your fingers will fall off before the ambulance gets here, so it’s really give or take.”

The man growled and rubbed a large hand through his hair.

“So what do you say, Superman?” Aelin gestured to the car behind her. “What’s the worst that can happen? I already hit you with my car today.”

If the tone of his voice was any indication, the man was in enough pain to barely put up a fight.

“Fine. But get into another accident and I’m calling the police.”

Aelin almost laughed. Little did he know that she owned the police.

It was only during the awkwardly silent drive to the hospital that Aelin realized the workers at the hospital would recognize her, and then the man beside her would. The thought put a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth. She liked fighting with this man- liked the fact that he treated her with the same amount of respect he would anyone who hit him with their car. Even if he was an infuriating prick of a man.

“Alright,” she pulled the car into park. “Here we are.” The man grunted in acknowledgment.

Surprisingly enough, the ER was close to empty on the Thursday evening and Aelin was grateful that it meant fewer people would recognize her. Who knew how the paparazzi would react if they saw their crown princess in the ER with an unknown man.

As if her ‘issues’ weren’t plastered in the tabloids enough already.

Aelin hadn’t realized how tall the man was until he was standing solidly behind her at the check-in desk. He was close enough that she could feel him at her back and she swore her shoulder had bumped below his own. Gods, he was strong.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and turned to the man at the desk.

“Hi um, I’m here to check in a patient.” If the way the man swallowed was any indication, said patient was glaring daggers from beside her. He turned to the monitor in front of him and began typing something into the computer.

“And, what’s the reason for your visit today?”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Just- just a checkup. He had a bit of a fall, we just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” She felt what must have been a scoff from behind her but ignored it. The man nodded without looking at her or stopping his typing.

“Okay,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. He handed a clipboard to Aelin holding a few pieces of obvious paperwork. “Fill this out and give it back to me when you’re done. It’s a slow day so you should be able to meet with the doctor in just a second.” Aelin nodded, thanking the man and making her way to the empty seats across the desk, dragging her silver-haired friend with her until he collapsed into the seat beside her with a huff.

She ignored him in favor of flicking through the paperwork as casually as she could, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that she clearly knew none of the personal information about the man beside her.

Aelin leaned close to him and almost rolled her eyes when he leaned significantly away.

“Hey,” she whispered. She watched as he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” he leveled her with a confused look and she held up the paperwork. But really, what kind of an idiot hit someone with their car and didn’t ask for their name. Aelin was such an idiot. Such an-

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Rowan.” She raised a brow,

“Rowan…?”

“Whitethorn.” Rowan Whitethorn. The name sent a pang of familiarity through her and Aelin struggled to ruffle through her mind to find where she had heard it before.

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she could berate herself for how stupid it was. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his head.

“Is that on the form?” his voice was defensive but Aelin shrugged nonetheless and Rowan sighed before running a hand through his hair. “Let’s say I’m involved with politics.”

Aelin grimaced. Maybe that was why her mind had blocked out his name. Anyone involved with any kind of politics was automatically dislikeable in Aelin’s eyes. She had been around enough politicians to recognize their slimy exterior.

Rowan clearly noticed her face and scowled at her. “Well not all of us have a choice in our future just because we’re young and irresponsible.” Like you, was what he didn’t have to say. Aelin wanted to kick him. If only he knew. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked back at the sheet in front of her.

“Date of birth?”

“December 8, 1995.” Aelin almost dropped her pencil but instead turned to Rowan, surprised to find him already looking at her.

“Seriously? You’re twenty- five?”

“What’s your point?”

“All of the high and mighty, ‘I’m your elder’ attitude and you’re only four years older than me.” She shook her head and turned back to the form, ignoring the glare she could feel burning into her skull and trying her best not to think about how good Rowan smelled from beside her. She never would have thought that the scent of pine could be so intoxicating.

“Place of birth?”

“Doranelle.” Aelin wondered if he knew anything of the infamous prince she was to marry. She really should have done some more research before storming out of the palace.

“Height?”

“6’ 4”.”

“Any allergies?”

“Blondes.” Aelin ignored that one.

“Any family history of fatal medical issues?”

“No.”

“Type and reason for pain?”

“An irritation in my head from the woman beside me.”

Aelin threw her pen at him and watched as he winced before looking at her with wide annoyed eyes. But she frankly didn’t give a fuck anymore. She could have let him freeze to death outside and here he was complaining about her.

“You know, this whole thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a prick.”

“Actually this whole thing would be a lot easier if you hadn’t-”

Rowan was cut off by the clearing of a throat in front of them, signaling someone had come through the door. The two had been too preoccupied with one another to even notice the doctor standing in front of them.

She’s beautiful, with cinnamon skin and curly hair, and she wears an amused smile on her face as she looks between the two. Aelin and Rowan automatically calm themselves into an acceptable demeanor and Aelin stands to shake hands with the doctor in front of them, handing her the unfinished paperwork.

“Alright, Mr… Whitethorn. I’m Doctor Towers and I’ll be helping you out here today. Why don’t you come back here with me and we can check you out.” Rowan stood up to follow her out of the room before Doctor Towers turned back to look at Aelin. “You can come too, Mrs. Whitethorn. We’ll probably need you to clear a few things up.”

Aelin hated the blush that sprang to her cheeks at the implication that she could be married to Rowan, and she almost laughed. As if she could ever marry someone like him. Their protests are cut off by the creaking of the door and neither Aelin nor Rowan bothers to correct the doctor as she leads them to a section of the hospital filled with open hospital beds and shitty curtains for ‘privacy.’

Pulling one shut, Doctor Towers gestures for Rowan to sit on the bed. Once he does, she leans back on her heels and pulls out her own clipboard.

“Okay, what seems to be the problem today?”

They’re silent for a moment, both looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Aelin clears her throat.

“Um, we had a bit of an accident-”

“I would hardly call it an ‘accident.’ She-”

“He decided to walk through a crosswalk during a green light and-”

“You hit me with your car!”

It seemed the entire hospital went silent for a moment before sound resumed once more and Aelin allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“It wasn’t like that. I-”

“You slammed straight into me!”

“I barely knicked you!”

Doctor Towers had been watching the sparring match between the two with wide eyes, clearly still hung up on the fact that he had been hit by a car and was still alive. It took a moment before she shook her head and scribbled a few things down on her piece of paper.

“I hate to ask this,” she cleared her throat. “Was this- um, a crime of passion?”

Aelin and Rowan stared at her blankly before turning to each other, both confused. She tried again.

“I mean- when a wife hits her husband with a car-” Realizing what she was implying, Aelin and Rowan were quick with their rebuttals.

“She’s not-”

“I’m not his wife!”

“Most definitely not-”

“As if I’d ever marry this prick-”

“I would rather hit myself with a car than voluntarily pledge myself to her.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Now that’s a little dramatic.”

“Well, you did hit me with a car.” If Aelin didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost looked like amusement twisted his lips.

“You’re never gonna get over that, are you?”

“Not likely.”

Doctor Towers cleared her throat from beside them, causing the two to snap their gazes back to her. Whatever they found there had them shut their mouths like scolded children.

“So…” she arched a brow. “It was an accident?”

Rowan nodded while Aelin muttered, “Unfortunately.”

Doctor Towers ignored the comment in favor of looking at Aelin closely. She watched in despair as it clicked in her head who exactly was standing in front of her and Aelin found herself holding her breath. But surprisingly enough, the doctor said nothing, simply turning to Rowan with a knowing look.

“So Mr. Whitethorn, what hurts?”

“Besides everything?” Rowan grimaced as he circled his shoulder. “Mostly my shoulder. I don’t know if I pulled it today specifically, but it’s been bothering me for a while. I think today just aggravated it.”

“It could be a stress fracture,” she mused. “Has anything happened recently in your life that could have caused your anxiety and stress levels to shoot up? It could be anything really from, an increase in work to a big change or big news…”

Rowan let out what Aelin assumed was some sort of laugh. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.

“You could say that.”

Doctor Towers didn’t press for more information, merely nodded and wrote something down before looking at Rowan again.

“The only solution I can really offer you right now is to ice it as often as you can for about eight to ten weeks, and it should heal on its own. No cast necessary.”

“Really?” Aelin exclaimed, unable to hold back the relief in her voice. Maybe her mother wouldn’t kill her after all. “That’s great.”

“It is,” Doctor Towers gazed at her through a knowing smile and narrowed eyes. “Just try not to hit people with your car anymore Pr-, ma’am.” Aelin almost laughed at the comment, even more at the mistake she had almost made, but instead nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Turning to Rowan, Aelin found him already watching her, a strange look on his face as he gazed between the two women. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the ER burst open, and the Queen herself strutted through.

Aelin thought that if a look could set a flame, she would be ashes by now.

She felt herself pale as her mother walked toward her on near-silent footsteps, leaving citizens bowing in her wake. But the Queen only had eyes for her daughter. Very angry eyes.

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she hissed, and Aelin tried not to cringe. “You are in so much trouble young lady.” Aelin opened her mouth to defend herself. “Sneaking out, close to Yulemas in fact, when crime rates are highest, stealing a car-”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine-” Her mouth snapped shut at the look her mother gave her.

“You’ll come to learn Aelin, that as future queen of this country, you have a status to uphold. You have an image- a reputation, one that should not include sneaking out of the palace unsupervised and ending up in the ER.”

She felt the words like a stab to the heart. Aelin knew the last thing her mother wanted to do was hurt her, especially with her words. But Aelin felt the truth of them to the bottom of her toes, and she was swept into a tidal wave of disappointment in herself. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off. Of course she couldn’t lead a country on her own.

“Mother, I’m sorry I snuck out. I was just so upset with you. And do you think I meant to end up in the ER? I hit him with my car for Gods sake! I couldn’t just-”

“You’re the princess?”

The surprisingly choked voice came from Rowan, and the two pairs of Ashryver eyes snapped to him in a millisecond. Rowan was looking at Aelin like he had never seen her before, and she frowned at him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t met a princess before, but this was hardly how she thought he would react. It was as if he was going to be sick.

From beside her, Evalin let out a strangled laugh and Aelin gazed at her mother incredulously. From beside her, Aelin’s mother burst into peals of laughter.

“Well, this is quite the situation, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was a moment before she composed herself and turned to Rowan. “Rowan Whitethorn. I suppose introductions aren’t necessary.”

Rowan was bowing, green eyes hard as they met Aelin’s and stayed there, even as he addressed her mother. “Your majesty. Allow me to express my gratitude for welcoming me into your country.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evalin insisted, still smiling as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re practically family, after all.”

And that was when it hit her.

Let’s just say I’m involved with politics.

Doranelle.

Recent stressful news.

His name.

Rowan’s eyes were on hers as the realization struck that Aelin not only fell into the statistics of people who hit attractive strangers with their car but also happened to hit members of royalty.

No- Aelin thought as she gaped at her betrothed- she most definitely did not fall in favor of most statistics. But they had fallen with her on one account.

The Prince of Doranelle was handsome.

this prompt was: “i accidentally hit you with my car”

taglist:

@story-scribbler

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@claralady

@surielandiareendgame

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowan #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #tog sjm #throne of glass #rowaelin month

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even-after-a-millennia · 3 years

Text

So Much in a Word

This fic is to fill the prompt for @yusufalkaysanibingo a different meeting for Joe and Nicky! You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here.

Joe-centric fic with Joe/Nicky | Rated M | ~5.4k words

Yusuf al-Kaysani was fifteen when his future was foretold.

He was in the farmer’s market with his mother, picking up ingredients for a herb mix to help his father’s cough when a hand shot out from between the stalls and clamped down on his arm. He yelped and spun around to face the person who had grabbed him.

The woman’s face was made of wrinkles but her eyes were clear as she stared at him. She sighed, her hand gentling on his arm, her thumb rubbing the soft skin near his elbow.

“Poor boy,” she murmured.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asked, worried for her and for himself. He could feel the power surrounding the woman. He glanced at his mother, who was watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, though she didn’t step in. She could probably feel the importance of this interaction, her own ability to see moments of change flaring.

“My dear one,” the old woman continued, and Yusuf’s attention snapped back to her, “you will live a life blessed with love. You will find the man who will uplift you and support you no matter the adversity. And you will bring him ruination.”

Yusuf froze, staring at her.

No.

No, it couldn’t be true.

He couldn’t even focus on the fact that he was destined to love a man, something he had suspected of himself for some time, but that he would be the one to ruin him?

Impossible.

The woman’s hand retracted, but he flung a hand out and clung to her fingers.

“Please, please take those words back. I cannot- I will not,” he stuttered, desperate.

“Oh, habibi,” she murmured, her free hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “I know. My gift can be the opposite, and to give such a radiant soul such news is not easy. Remember my words, Yusuf. For you are blessed and cursed and only those words will set you free.”

Yusuf blinked, and she was gone.

“Yusuf?” his mother asked, her dark brown eyes full of concern.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Can I leave you to collect the rest of the ingredients as I go home?” he asked through numb lips.

“Of course, my love. I’ll be back soon,” she said, pushing him homeward.

He walked home in a daze, but the second his foot crossed the threshold of his home, he snapped to attention.

No.

He would not do it.

Not if he could help it.

And he could.

He went to the family’s workroom and found it blessedly empty. Going to the table strewn with ingredients, a pestle and mortar, and more books and pieces of parchment than he could easily count, he began pulling materials towards him, going on instinct alone. He had been practicing magic under his parents’ tutelage since he was a toddler. He had watched his father create tinctures and weave his ability to heal into charms, had seen his mother make decisions before the moment had arrived, her ability to see changes around her allowing her to avert burns and arguments, save money and receive more. But he had not only been taught by them, but also by his teachers at school, learning the basics and, more recently, more advanced techniques of everyday magic that didn’t require a special ability to achieve.

While he might not know his ability yet, he knew enough how to make a talisman. He just hoped it would be enough.

He wove his magic into the strands of the bracelet and put the ingredients he needed into the charm that would hang from it. While he had seen his father chant incantations as he crafted talismans, he couldn’t bring himself to speak, his heart in his throat. All he could do was hope, and say in his head, “Please don’t let me hurt him, please don’t let me hurt him, please don’t let me hurt him,” repeatedly. He knew he was using too much of his magic, darkness starting to creep into the corners of his vision, but he pushed everything that he had into the bracelet.

Even as he faded into the dark, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his actions.

It was worth it to save him.

His mother returned from the market twenty minutes later to find Yusuf unconscious in the workroom, the completed talisman clutched in his hand.

She sighed, because though she had seen this coming, it was no easier to have her vision actualized. Prying his hand open, she wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fastened the clasp.

Yusuf stirred, his eyes blearily looking up at his mother. His head flopped to the side and he saw the bracelet around his wrist.

He smiled. It was weak, but it was there, and it broke his mother’s heart.

“I did it,” he whispered triumphantly.

Then he once more fell unconscious.

_________________________________________

Joe was engrossed in his book as the train trundled along the track, rocking him side to side in his seat. He was soothed by the gentle movement, grateful for it’s relaxing motion. Friday’s were his longest day on campus, with three different lectures and office hours, and he was exhausted.

He had never seen himself becoming a professor when he was young. But when he had been prophesied to ruin his soulmate, he threw himself into magical study. There was so much to learn and he wanted to know all of it, in the off chance that something would be able to change his fate. It had turned out that he was a quick learner and that he had a knack with teaching others his findings.

He had a way with words. He could never put his personal power in a better way. Nothing else pinned down the nuances of how he could use words to pin down a point, educate succinctly, highlight how he was feeling.

But no matter how much he thought of the prophecy that changed his life, he couldn’t find a way to change their meaning. To change what would happen should he find his soulmate.

So in the meantime, his talisman rested against his pulse point, reassuring him.

Fifteen-year-old Yusuf hadn’t known what he was doing when he had created it, but apparently, he had done it well. At age thirty-three, he had yet to meet his soulmate. Or more likely, given the charm, he had and would never know it.

That was the charm's ability. It blocked him off from his soulmate. Joe could pass him in the street, their eyes could meet, and they would pass each other as strangers.

It was better that way.

He felt the tug in his chest that sometimes bothered him, letting out an involuntary flinch before he rubbed the area absently as he read on. The pains had become more frequent as time went on, which he chalked up to his body rejecting the effects of the spell upon him. It wasn’t natural to work against his soul’s call, but he would rather deal with random pains than the agony of ruining his soulmate.

“Scusa, are you alright?” a quiet voice asked him.

“Hm?” Joe hummed, pulling himself from his book to look at the man who had addressed him. The man had sandy brown hair and multi-colored eyes Joe couldn’t pinpoint from the distance, with a beauty mark on the right side of his face, near his jawline. He was looking at Joe with concern.

“Are you alright? You seemed pained,” the man said again. He had an accent that Joe thought might come from a romantic language. Perhaps Italian?

Joe blinked, finally focusing. “Oh, apologies. It’s nothing, just a reverb of a spell long ago. Can’t be helped,” he said with a reassuring smile.

The man frowned. “Do you like chocolate?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes?” Joe asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I make foods, infused with health and well wishes, if you would have one. The chocolates are all I have on me at the moment. It could help relieve your pain,” the man said. He started rummaging in his bag.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t know how efficient they would be on me. It’s an ongoing issue, you see,” Joe said. In the past, he had tried many ways to help curb the side effects of his talisman, but none had helped. He had gotten to the point when he would be irritated with the person offering a seemingly effective cure for his ills. But for some reason, that irritation wasn’t present now.

How odd.

“Ah. There is nothing that can be done?” the man asked. He didn’t have that pitying look on his face that many did when they heard that, just one that was understanding and somewhat resigned.

“I’m afraid not,” Joe said with a little shrug. “I appreciate the gesture, however. I’m Yusuf, by the way. You can call me Joe, if you like.”

“Nicolò, though many of my colleagues call me Nicky,” the man replied.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nicky,” Joe said, reaching across the aisle to hold out a hand.

Nicky shook it and withdrew.

“Is that book good?” Nicky asked, gesturing to the book Joe had been reading. “I have seen it many times, but not read it myself.”

“I’m enjoying it. The author has a way of immersing the audience into the book, making you forget your surroundings, as you saw. I’ve taken to only reading it when seated. I wonder if that is their ability. They certainly chose the right profession if so!” Joe said with a laugh.

“I’ll have to pick it up the next time I come across it,” Nicky said.

“I would recommend it. So what do you do?” Joe asked.

“I run a remedial bakery and restaurant. There are many who need healing, so I am baking and cooking most of the day to feed those that come to me, as well as sending my goods across the world. There never seems to be enough time,” he finished quietly, almost to himself.

It was then that Joe noticed the dark circles below Nicky’s eyes.

“Hey,” Joe said gently, leaning forward and looking Nicky in the eye. “Every single person you help is one less person who is in pain. There will be more, but don’t discount the work you have done. It is enough.”

He could feel his power flowing through him, and saw Nicky blink.

This time, Nicky put a hand on his chest. He looked down startled. “What- how did you do that?”

“What is that?” Joe asked.

“I… It suddenly feels like it is easier to breathe. How did you do that?”

Joe relaxed. He had been worried that what he’d said had hurt the man. “I just used the right words, I guess. And you seem like the kind of person to carry the hurts of others around with you, long after they are gone. Was I right?”

Nicky regarded him. “Have you eaten?” he asked Joe.

“Not yet,” Joe replied, taking his non-answer as an answer.

“Would you like to eat with me?”

Joe smiled, somewhat relieved that he had not offended Nicky with his observation. “Yes, I would like that.”

He was intrigued by this man, whose heart was pierced by the pain of strangers and whose eyes were the color of a tumultuous ocean. He could enjoy getting to know him more.

Joe was always ready to make new friends.

They ended up at a Thai restaurant that was close to Joe’s place.

Once they were seated, Nicky turned to Joe. “I forgot to ask, what is it you do?”

Joe smiled. “I’m a professor, specializing in the intricacies of magical intent and their outcomes.”

Nicky blinked. Joe was used to that reaction when he said his profession. It wasn’t a common one. In fact, he had been offered so many positions when he had graduated with his doctorate that he had needed to phone his mother for advice on which school to choose.

Having a mother who could see the possibilities of choices had been a blessing throughout the years.

He hadn’t regretted his choice yet.

“I did not know you could get a doctorate in that,” Nicky finally said.

“Well,” Joe said, trying to not appear too proud, but sometimes it was hard to not let himself feel his accomplishments, “before me, no one had. Not precisely, anyways.”

Nicky blinked again. Then his slight frown cleared and he gave Joe a small smile. “That’s very impressive,” he said.

Joe felt himself flush, then cursed at himself for it. He knew it was, but it was different to hear it from Nicky.

Nicky sat forward, his elbows splayed and hands clasped on the table. “Tell me more?” he asked.

Joe felt a little stunned at the request. Usually on the dates he had gone on with people who were fine with casual dating, no soulmates required, they hadn’t been interested in the finer details of what he had spent years, decades at this point of his life, learning and honing.

He cleared his throat, then began. He kept talking even as their food arrived and then spoke between bites. Nicky asked attentive questions, focusing in on details that Joe had glossed over because that would be another ten minute long explanation. Joe kept checking him for signs that he was bored with what Joe was saying, but Nicky was leaning in, nodding along in places, the corner of his mouth quirking when Joe mentioned some of his failed experiments. His eyes rarely left Joe’s face and Joe found himself stuttering more as he described his studies to Nicky than he had since his first year of teaching.

“And after this conversation, you could probably get at least a Master’s in the theory of magical intention and conclusions,” Joe said jokingly as he finished.

Nicky hummed, taking a spoonful of his soup with a pensive look on his face. “I think that I could use some of those principles in my cooking and baking, to expedite the process. You may have just saved me a lot of effort with that talk, professor,” he said with a smile.

Joe smiled back, trying to cover how flustered he felt. “Of that, I’m glad.”

They finished eating soon after and Nicky insisted on taking the check. “I need to pay you for your lecture somehow, sì?” he asked.

Joe laughed. “I’ll allow it.”

They walked outside, pulling their jackets closer as a cold wind blew down the street. Joe saw Nicky shiver and found himself asking before he had really thought it through, “Would you like to come back to mine for a cup of coffee? It’ll warm us up and we could continue talking.”

Nicky looked at Joe and he felt like he was being scrutinized. This man’s full attention was a powerful thing in itself, let alone his strong shoulders and angular jaw.

He suddenly felt awkward for asking. There were certain protocols for interacting with other people that were usually based around how much someone cared about saving themselves for their soulmate or not. There were those who wouldn’t be in a relationship until they felt that connection, the spark of their soul connecting with another. There were others who didn’t care to wait and didn’t. And then there was Joe. Who was deliberately avoiding his soulmate.

But no one but his parents knew what the charm on his wrist was for, so he usually was put into the second category by people who met him. Which was fair, he’d had casual relationships and flings with people before.

He wasn’t really asking for anything from Nicky here, though. He didn’t know how to say that without it becoming more awkward.

“I could drink some coffee,” Nicky said finally.

Joe relaxed.

They walked the blocks to Joe’s small house side by side, their shoulders knocking together here and there. Their surroundings changed from the small stores and restaurants to a residential area. They continued on until finally Joe stopped at a wooden gate.

“This one is mine,” he said softly.

He didn’t know why, but he wanted Nicky to like his home.

Joe watched as Nicky looked at the small house with its garden overflowing with plants for ingredients and random nick nacks that he couldn’t help but buy. The house itself wasn’t big, only one story, with sand colored stone siding. There were stained glass pieces hanging in the window, catching the rays of the sunset.

“Oh, Joe,” Nicky breathed, looking at it all. “It’s wonderful.”

Joe felt that same embarrassed pride from before. He knew that, he did, but it was just. Different. Hearing it from Nicky.

Joe waved his hand, unlocking the wards protecting his house, and opened the gate. “Come on in.”

Nicky stepped through behind Joe and followed him up the path, stopping to look at the windchimes hanging from the roof. Pieces of sea glass sparkled in the glow of the sun and the chimes rang as another cold breeze rustled past them.

Joe opened his front door and Sable’s black face and yellow-green eyes met him before she ran to her scratching post and began to claw at it to show her joy he was home.

Then his cat saw there was company and froze, then lowered herself to the floor.

“It’s okay, little one. This is Nicky,” Joe said, taking off his shoes and gesturing to his companion. “He’s a friend.”

Sable wasn’t convinced and scooted across the room towards his bedroom.

Joe turned to Nicky. “Sorry about that. She has a hard time with newcomers.”

Nicky shrugged. “I won’t take it personally. I am in her space, after all.”

Joe smiled at him. Not everyone handled Sable’s aversion to people as well, and Joe appreciated it.

The coat rack took their jackets and they stood there a moment, Nicky looking around Joe’s home. Joe didn’t adhere to any particular style, unless comfortable counted. His couch was overstuffed, with colorful pillows adorning it and soft blankets draped over the back for quick use. He had many pieces of art hung on the wall, some of which he had done himself. His desk in the corner of the room was cluttered at best and disorganized at worst. But altogether, it was his home.

“Alright, coffee,” he said once Nicky had looked his fill. The hallways had more art, as well as pictures of family and friends, hung on the wall. Nicky looked at them but didn’t stop as they made their way to the kitchen.

Joe reached into a cabinet and pulled out his Moka pot. Nicky grinned at him.

“Why do I feel like I just passed some test?” Joe joked.

“You did,” Nicky replied, his eyes sparkling. “Top marks, professor.”

Joe gestured to one of the chairs, which pulled itself away from the table. He was glad of the fact he had to turn his back to Nicky to get the coffee going. His face felt very warm. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Nicky said as he sat. “I wanted to ask, what was your pull to learn more of magical intention? It seems like such a niche subject, based on what you told me. There must be a reason.”

Staring at the brewing coffee, Joe contemplated whether it was worth telling Nicky. He kept the prophecy to himself. Not even his friends knew the truth behind why he hadn’t found his soulmate yet. And yet, he found himself opening his mouth.

“Do you remember that spell I said had repercussions to this day?” Joe asked.

“Sì.”

“When I was fifteen,” Joe said, keeping his eyes on the pot, “it was foretold that I would be blessed with love. And I have been. My parents have been wonderful and supportive throughout my entire life. I have many friends who lighten my days, colleagues who make me feel valued, and students who appreciate my work to educate them.”

He sighed.

“I was prophesied to have a soulmate who would be with me through adversity and uplift me through life. And I would bring him ruination,” he said, his voice going flat and cold at the last sentence.

The house rumbled around them, the floorboards creaking and the windchime growing louder as it shifted more violently.

Joe took a deep breath and let it out and as he did so, the house settled. It had accepted him as its owner and was therefore connected to him. When feeling a strong emotion, he could expect some kind of reaction from the house.

Pouring the finished coffee, he brought the cups to the table and set one before Nicky, not looking at him.

“I went home and created a talisman. I was fifteen, knowledgeable but not enough. But I had belief. And desperation. So I poured everything I had into creating it, so that I may never hurt him.” He took a sip of his coffee, much too soon, and grimaced as it burnt his tongue.

His free hand was clenched with nerves. Lifting his fist, he showed Nicky his adorned wrist. “So far, it’s worked.”

Finally, he lifted his head to look at Nicky.

And met eyes filled with tears.

“Joe… you are a very kind man,” Nicky said, his voice rough.

Joe snorted. “It was a no win situation. I did what I could.”

“No,” Nicky said, reaching out and placing a hand over Joe’s as it held his cup. “You succeeded. At great personal cost. I assume there were aftereffects?”

Joe hummed in affirmation. “Random chest pains. More frequent as time goes on.” He smiled grimly, his eyes tearing up. “I think my heart is rejecting being blinded from its companion. I don’t know how much longer-” He cut off, already saying too much. He hadn’t even told his parents what he had just revealed to Nicky.

He had known that there would be repercussions to cutting himself off from his soulmate.

He just hadn’t known at the age of fifteen that he would be slowly killing himself.

“Oh, Joe.” Nicky stood, and stepped closely to him. “Can I hold you?” he asked hesitantly.

At Joe’s nod, Nicky’s arms came around his shoulders and neck, cocooning him. Joe wrapped his arms around Nicky’s stomach and buried his face into his chest. Letting out a shaky breath, Joe felt a lot of the stress from this damning secret leak out of him as he melted into Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky pressed his cheek into the curls on the top of Joe’s head, then tilted his head up so they could look at each other. “I can help. Maybe my ability could mitigate the effects. Give you more time.”

Joe considered. He had surrendered himself to the inevitable, he realized as hope bloomed in his chest. He could have more time.

“I… I would like to try,” he said.

Nicky smiled, a small and fragile thing. But Joe found himself answering it with a smile of his own.

He hadn’t felt as safe as he did, protected from the world by Nicky’s arms and body, in a very long time. Probably since he was fifteen, moments before being grabbed in that marketplace.

Yes, they barely knew each other. But Joe felt a connection to this man, unlike anything that he had felt before. And Joe had just laid out his ultimate truth before Nicky and he had met it unflinchingly. Not only that, but he wanted to help.

As their smiles faded, neither of them looked away. Nicky’s arms released Joe until his hands were cradling the back of Joe’s neck. Slowly, Joe rose, his hands lowering from Nicky’s back to his hips.

He leaned in and whispered, “Is this okay?”

“That depends,” Nicky said, and Joe could feel his breath against his lips. “What is this?”

Joe thought. “Connection?” he said finally.

“Ah. Well, then yes. It is okay,” Nicky murmured, pulling Joe in with the hands on his neck.

Joe’s eyes slid shut the moment that their lips connected.

At first, it was just a gentle press of lips, hands resting on neck and hips. Then Nicky tilted his head a bit more to the side and nipped at Joe’s lower lip. Joe let out a shuddering exhale and leaned further into the kiss. They languidly explored each other’s mouths as their hands began to wander. Joe’s hands slid up Nicky’s spine to feel his back muscles move under his hands.

Then Nicky’s hands reached Joe’s ass and he squeezed as he pulled Joe in, pressing their lower bodies together.

Their kiss broke as they both exhaled shakily at the sensation.

“Bedroom?” Joe whispered, wanting to make sure they were on the same page.

Nicky nodded, his nose brushing against Joe’s as he did so.

Joe smiled, taking Nicky’s hand and a step back. Nicky followed close behind him, a wall of warmth at his back.

There was no sign of Sable as they entered the bedroom, but Joe left the door open in case she needed to exit while he was otherwise preoccupied.

“Would you sit?” Joe asked Nicky when they reached the bed.

Nicky did, and Joe stepped into the space between his legs. He caressed Nicky’s cheek, his neck extending as he looked up at Joe. Joe was unable to resist ducking his head and pressing a kiss against the skin there, just below his beauty mark. The hum Nicky let out urged him to continue and Joe pressed kiss after kiss into Nicky’s neck. He reached the taut line of muscle on the right side of his throat and sunk his teeth into it.

Nicky’s hands tightened against his hips and he let out a shaky breath.

Joe released him and stepped away a moment to push Nicky’s legs together, before sitting on his lap. Nicky met him with a kiss that stole the breath from Joe’s lungs.

He felt Nicky’s fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt and he regretfully pulled back so that he could be divested of it. While they were parted, he pulled Nicky’s shirt up and over his head as well.

Pausing, he took in all the new skin that had been laid bare.

Nicky was strong, but his muscle wasn’t defined like Joe’s was. Joe enjoyed going to the gym in the mornings after Fajr, whereas Nicky’s strength seemed to come from working in a kitchen, kneading dough and lifting boxes. A casual strength, rather than a deliberate one.

Joe’s hands slid up Nicky’s arms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. He could feel Nicky’s hands on his exposed back, feeling his shoulder blades. Joe pushed gently on Nicky’s chest and he lay back on the bed, Joe following him down until they were pressed together from their lips to their toes.

They tried to keep as much contact as they could while taking off their pants and underwear, which made it somewhat awkward. After Joe’s elbow found Nicky’s side, making him give out an “oof,” their eyes met and they began to laugh together.

Then there were no clothes between them and the laughter left them.

After, Nicky flopped off the top of Joe and let out a breathless huff.

“Mother of God, Joe, I think you ruined me,” he groaned.

Joe froze. “What did you just say?” he demanded, post coital bliss abandoned at the sound of that word.

Nicky cocked his head and repeated, “You rui- oh, Joe, I’m sorry. That was a horrible choice of words.”

No matter how much he thought of the prophecy that changed his life, he couldn’t find a way to change their meaning.

For you are blessed and cursed and only those words will set you free.

It couldn’t be… could it?

“Nicky,” Joe said urgently. “When I was told the prophecy, the woman said that only the words would set me free. I have been trying to think of other meanings behind the words for over half my life. You don’t think- I mean, could it?”

Nicky’s eyes were wide as he stared at Joe.

“I, I don’t know. It would be wonderful if you weren’t to ruin your soulmate in the traditional sense, but who knows what the intent of the prophecy was?”

“Nicolò,” Joe said, raising a hand to caress his cheek. “You do realize that in this scenario, you would be my soulmate, right?”

Nicky stared at him, then he shot upright, his hand holding Joe’s to his face. “How could we know?”

“Well…” Joe said, his gaze falling to the wrist with the talisman around it. It was on the arm that Nicky held, and slowly, Nicky relaxed his hold until their hands lay clasped between them.

“Nicky, if I’m wrong and the word rings true, but you really are my-” Joe couldn’t even finish the sentence, overwhelmed at the implications behind it.

Nicky’s free hand cupped the back of Joe’s neck and pressed their foreheads together.

“Then we will face it together,” he whispered fiercely. “Whatever may come next. I’ve been looking for you a long time. My soul doesn’t wish to be parted from yours any longer.”

Joe’s chest throbbed and he winced. Nicky must have felt his flinch, because he tightened his grip on Joe, as if by holding him close, he could protect him from any pain.

“My heart, my soul, my very being wants to be with you so badly that it pains me. But… I’m afraid. I will not survive being apart from you, Nicky, but I couldn’t if I destroy you either,” Joe admitted.

“Yusuf,” Nicky said, his eyes shining. He lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to Joe’s knuckles. “You are worth it.”

Joe’s eyes were so clouded with tears that he had to feel for the clasp of his bracelet. Nicky’s hand stopped him.

“May I?” he asked.

Joe blinked, and his vision cleared slightly as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He reached up and pulled Nicky into a slow, soft kiss before he rested his forehead against his.

“A man who will uplift me and support me no matter the adversity,” Joe whispered into the small space between them. “I could ask for nothing else.”

He felt Nicky let go of his hand, then his fingers against his wrist.

Joe closed his eyes.

Nicky undid the clasp and pulled the bracelet free.

And still, Joe could not open his eyes.

“Whenever you are ready, Yusuf,” Nicky murmured.

Uplifting. Supporting. Nicolò.

Joe took in a breath, pulled back from their forehead touch, and opened his eyes.

His breath froze in his lungs.

He had known this man before this moment, he knew that. He had seen that beauty mark, those eyes, those shoulders. He had felt Nicky’s skin against his own.

But it all felt new.

This, this was the moment that stories were made of. The first contact between soulmates, when the connection snapped into place. The moment that said that this, this person, was significant. Vital.

“Nicolò…” he breathed, reaching out and stopping just before he made contact with his face.

Nicky closed the last hairsbreadth of space between them and Joe felt an ache in his chest, totally different from that which he had felt when cutting himself off from Nicky. His soulmate. It was a feeling of relief, a loosening of a band long wrapped around his chest, until he felt like he had taken deep, filling breath for the first time in eighteen years.

“Hello Yusuf,” Nicky said, smiling at him, his cheek resting in Joe’s palm.

“Hello Nicolò,” Yusuf murmured. He let his thumb caress the line of Nicky’s cheekbone. “I have not breathed so easily in nearly twenty years.”

“I’m glad of your relief.”

“I’m glad that it’s you,” Joe countered. They weren’t arguing, but it needed to be said. “You, who wanted to help a stranger in pain. You, who has already uplifted and supported me, before we knew we were connected. You,” he continued, his voice turning softer but his free hand started to slide up Nicky’s thigh, “whose kiss thrills me and whose body I wish to learn like my own. I am so blessed, Nicolò, that it is you.”

Their lips met once more and every brush, every touch of their hands, every thrust felt like a revelation.

Like a curse made into a blessing.

Like being set free.

_________________________________________

“Ya Allah!” Joe exclaimed later, shooting upright in bed. “How am I going to tell my parents how we got around the prophecy?!”

#joe x nicky #kaysanova #the old guard #magic au #soulmates au #fanfic #my fic

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manias-wordcount · 3 years

Text

Windborne Whispers (Venti x Reader) PART TWO

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗰 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝗺 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲 :]

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

In those rare moments when you have some time alone, you always seem to find yourself outside, looking at the great mountains and the hills of the very Mondstadt you call home.

The sigh you let out is deep and expressive. It’s tiresome work being the oldest of three, yet it's a responsibility you have to bear silently. You have yet to master the art of patience but you’re trying. And trying has always been hard with a little brother tugging on your right hand and a little sister tugging on your left. Every day you have to swallow down a scream or abandon a glare for the sake of being their role model. Their shoulder to cry on. Their playmate. And their caretaker when mommy and daddy are away.

But it’s all worth it for moments like these. Moments where you’re completely and utterly alone, listening to the wind and the song it sings as relish in the comfort of silence. The very silence you didn’t know how much you missed until your life was interrupted by rowdy toddlers and energetic children.

You sighed again, leaning forward against the city’s outer walls as you stare out absently into the scenery before you. The distant sounds of the Windblume Festival activities paints a lively scene in your head. You just barely remembered that the festival was ending after today. It was your last chance to enjoy the pretty decorations and cheery attitude of the festival. That’s why your parents offered you this rare chance to go out by yourself. Finally, an occasion to walk the streets of the city freely without having to hold little hands and keep track of little heads as they scurry throughout crowds. Today was just you, the wind, and the pretty little Cecilia flower your sister insisted on weaving through your hair right before you left.

“So you’ll find your boy!” She had giggled.

Your face grows warm at the thought. Your boy, she called him. It was a little embarrassing how your family was able to pick up on your fascination with the strange boy so quickly but you suppose you hadn’t been discreet as you’d like to be. At first chance, you jumped at the opportunity to ask your parents about the bard dressed in green. You were hoping for a name to put to the face that burned in your memory.

But alas, you were saddened to hear that your parents were just as puzzled as you were. Only a glimpse of him was all they managed to catch as they rushed to meet you and your lost siblings all those days ago. This was their first time seeing a bard so young- a bard who looked to be just a couple of years younger than you. You couldn’t dare think of having such a job. Despite how liberating and free it sounded, you knew your family needed you at home. Part of you wondered how he could handle leaving his home so young to work as a bard. You wondered if he missed them. If he thought of them on his travels. But most of all-

“I wonder what his name is…” Your voice trails off softly- just another wistful whisper into the wind.

“Venti. Thanks for asking!”

“Huh?!” Your head whipped around at the sound to see the same boy that was occupying your thoughts. “It’s you!”

There he was, in all his glory- looking the same as he did the last time you saw him. The same white tights with the gold accents and that pretty green cape. Your eyes momentarily catch on a speck of blue hanging off of his hip and notice that he wields a vision. Your jaw hangs open as your eyes flicker back to his face. He’s beaming at you. Eyes bright and smile wide as he rocks on his toes and crosses his arms in front of him.

“It’s me!” He agrees, eyes slipping close as he lets out a cheerful chuckle. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh of your own, giggling softly to yourself. It was an infectious sound- so pure and so joyous that it felt natural to join in. There was something odd about him in the way he carried himself. An aura of pleasure with an easy-going nature. A short stature with wise yet playful eyes. From the buoyant way he dressed, you could tell he was quite the peculiar character in the ever-bustling city of Mondstadt.

You’ve always wondered what it was like to feel so carefree.

“How did you sneak you up on me like that?” You managed to say in between giggles. “I’m usually more careful than that.”

“Well, it was easy!” He said, chuckles finally dying down. “You were so lost in your own world, you must not have heard me walk up to you.”

“Ah,” You replied, face twisting up into an embarrassed wince as he shot you a knowing look. “Is that right?”

You suppose you were a little too focused on your own thoughts to really pay attention to your surroundings. With your siblings, you had always been so careful not to let your guard down. You haven’t had a moment where you could zone out completely and be distracted without any repercussions. Not paying attention could lead to one of your little siblings getting hurt.

A small smile graces your lips as your mind slips over to thinking about the little ones that you constantly cared for. You just vaguely noticed the way Venti’s eyes flicked to your lips before he began speaking again.

“That’s right! So tell me,” He prompts, a hand resting on his hip as he tilts his head at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well…” You bit your lip, shyly averting your gaze. “I was thinking about how I wanted to thank you for your beautiful music from a couple of days ago.”

At your response, he freezes for a moment. He looks back at you, aqua eyes widening in surprise. The look he gives you shows that he’s a little caught off guard- almost as if praise was unexpected or unheard of for him. The very thought makes you grow puzzled. How could people pass up the opportunity to compliment such a talented little bard? Nonetheless, it was his reaction that fueled your fire and made you determined to sing his praises if no one else would.

“The melody you were playing on your lyre really soothed my little sister’s worries. And it distracted my little brother as well!” You recalled, clasping your hands together in front of you.

It was now Venti’s turn to be embarrassed.

“Well,” He began, hand reaching up to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. “It was nothin-”

“But it wasn’t nothing!” You cut him off, unknowingly stepping closer. Your voice grew soft as you spared him a relieved glance. “My siblings and I were separated from our parents. I tried to calm them down the best I could. But in the end, it was your music that really helped.”

He flushed a soft pink color that stood out against his pale skin and green clothes at your sudden presence and words of praise. However, you had other things occupying your thoughts as you began to explain yourself.

“You took a burden off of my shoulders, if only for a moment.” You murmur, averting your eyes once more as your words grew a little more intimate. “Because of you, I felt as though I could finally enjoy the festival. That I could finally be free…”

A second passes as he gaps at you while your words trail off into the wind. His face is absent of all emotion except surprises as he blinks at you. Once. Twice. Thrice- before finally, a wide grin spread across his face. With a quick step back, Venti gives you a playful vow, one hand crossing over his torso while another grabbed onto the edge of his cape to let it float within the breeze.

“I’m glad to be of assistance!” He cheers, eyes sparkling with mirth. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle in at his playfulness- a sound that further eggs on his antics. “Everyone deserves a chance to enjoy the festival for themselves!”

Shaking your head dismissively despite the smile that seems to find itself at home on your face, you try to ignore the dramatic way he tosses back his cape as he straightens up to face you properly.

“Thank you,” You reassure him before continuing with a sigh, “but such freedom is luxury when it comes to watching two little ones.” He meets your half-hearted shrug and defeated smile with a thoughtful look of his own. You find it adorable as he moves his hand up to stroke his chin as if contemplating something rather important. But he barely lasts a moment before his eyes light up, and he’s moving again.

“Then allow me to offer my assistance,” He says, extending a hand for you to shake as his eyes twinkled with the same mirth you saw from before. “People say I’m great with kids!”

You fail to bite a chuckle, already getting used to and enjoying his typically flamboyant behavior. But for a second, your gaze catches onto his hat- noting the Cecilia flower that was tucked into the side of his beret. The matching little flower that was still woven through your hair weighed heavy on your mind. Venti is a stranger. You haven’t known him for long. And yet, you can’t help but feel as though you can trust him. That you could confide in him. Like how your siblings trust in you.

Like how you trust in the wind.

Without another moment of hesitation, you reach out a grip in his hand. The smile you offer him is soft, relieved, and oh, so thankful. The smile he sends back to you is as comforting as the warm breezes that blankets the two of you in a motherly embrace.

If only you knew that this was the start of a new chapter in your life.

#venti #venti x reader #venti genshin #venti genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #x reader #xreader #fluff #windblume festival #genshin impact

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

BALLOON ANIMAL ARTIST JK I JUST FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT AND MAKE YOU A FLOWER THEN ASK YOU ON A DATE

baby i love u and your big sexy brain <3 welcome to waikiki meets hospital playlist dynamic ft. balloon artist!jk

“who’s a good baby? is it you? iS IT YOU????”

you’d be the first one to admit that you had an exhausting horrible night

being a nurse sUCKS the life out of you and as much as it’s fulfilling, you almost always feel the urge to admit yourself to the ER for being extremely fatigued

it’s all worth it!! it should be

after all, paying for a mansion in an exclusive village and sharing it with your friends doeS warrant some elbow grease

seokjin works in wall street and sometimes he comes home crying but it’s okay because you do have an expensive fridge that everyone worked overtime for <3

hoseok’s a veterinary assistant and is your trusty friend who always sends in pictures of the animals that come in to cheer you up while at work

namjoon’s a painter by passion and accountant by profession!! he does only come out with a few pieces at a time but mAN does it rake in the money

jimin’s a flight attendant and does everyone the pleasure of securing either free or discounted tickets, and bringing home unused airline towels to dry off the dishes!!

lastly, taehyung’s someone you can call a former trustfund baby or somewhat :O the last big chunk of money he spent from his fund was the downpayment and security deposit for this mansion!!!

it’s a long story and he’s currently all over the place but he’s finding regular jobs!! his latest gig was working at a high-end ice cream place but he immediately quit once he learned that he needed to put his back into it and not just scoop up ice cream like he did in his dreams :((

most importantly, taehyung has a baby :-)

he’s a dad!! a single one at that

it’s truly a LONG story but the bottomline is that he has nabi, his cutest little dumpling!! and he has all of you, his friends who didn’t hesitate to step up as nabi’s parents in a way too even if he didn’t ask any of you

you all love the chunky monkey so much that you’ve all taken the liberty to call him your baby at times and tae doesn’t even mind!! nabi’s so lucky (he hopes) to have him as a dad and his friends as his cool uncles and aunt

nevertheless, you indeed had a bad night working the night shift and came home to nabi’s birthday party just in time!! :D

he turned two years old at midnight and even if you weren’t physically present at the mansion like the guys were (they requested their leaves two months earlier) because of being understaffed, you were able to see him and tae blow out multiple cakes that each one bought him

seeing him giggle at your arms just by doing the bare minimum makes you full already <3

all your exhaustion is melted away because it’s your favorite toddler’s birthday party!! the party that you all insisted on shelling out for that made tae almost cry bc of how much you all love his son

“jimin i am not sewing your forehead up when you end up falling in the wrong angle,” you roll your eyes at him who’s currently doing backflips in the bouncy house that managed to fit in the mansion

“hoseok can!!” he yells back and backflips twice in a row, much to the actual children’s amusement and your worry

“i will NOT stitch you up! the thread i have is for the pregnant dogs only!!!”

everyone’s entertaining guests left and right, including taehyung who’s the dad of the little man of the hour :D

he keeps pointing at nabi who’s currently in your arms every ten seconds and it’s now your job to make him giggle every single time to wave at the people

“what do you want, monkey? do you want some ice cream? i won’t tell your dad,” you eagerly ask the wide-eyed baby in your arms, pointing at the ice cream cart that namjoon probably ordered

“no thank you!” nabi cutely aND politely declines, his head shaking no and his speech and pronunciation getting clearer day by day

most of the time though he says it like tHANK YEWWWW and you would immediately grin every time because it’s the cutest thing ever

“hmm, look at that!! face painting!! do you want some butterflies?”

you point at yet another station that you guess seokjin arranged, knowing that at some point into this party, he’d all drag you in here to get matching marks or something lol

nabi once again declines, his eyes searching around that makes you do the same on what you could do to entertain him

he has the same habit down like taehyung and loudly gASPS, pointing his finger and almost shrieking in excitement

“bawoo — balloon!!! balloon!!!”

it is now your life purpose to walk as fast as you could to this balloon station with nabi bouncing up and down your arm in excitement

jungkook’s having the time of his life here :D

normally he’s mostly called in the holiday season and occasionally at big birthday parties (the one where like two sides of the family share every baby’s first birthday party lmao) throughout the year!!

but he’s never had a client who requested him for a singular birthday party!! let alone at a hOUSE

ok maybe that was an understatement

he means a mansion

if he’s being quite honest, the mr. park jimin he spoke to on the phone sounded too kind that he just mistakened him for a party planner or something

he immediately said yes because he had no on-site bookings for that day, or even the week perhaps, and expected to stroll into a carnival in the middle of an executive village

aha :D jungkook is wrong :D

jimin met him by the front door wherein a lot of people are already crossing paths such as catering and not to mention the bouncy house you cAN’T miss, and just briefly touched in on the situation

“oh no, i’m not the dad, man — but thanks!! i’m his uncle. nabi’s dad is my friend, taehyung. and me and my friends, including taehyung, all live here. we’re all like family, basically.”

jungkook saw the other stations invited and he expected that his would have less children y’know?? bouncy house, ice cream station, facepainting, hotdog cart aND magic show???? yeah <3

but god is he wrong

the children are in a single-file line for hIM and his balloon artistry!!! the requests range from pretzels to pirate hats to chandeliers with the bulbs as smiley faces!!!

he’s managed to do all of them so far and he’s now made a decent dent on the line of children waiting for him

jungkook is a happy and content balloon artist :D

“EXCUSE ME! BIRTHDAY BOY COMING THROUGH!!”

oh my god what was that

you’re walking at full-speed and holler out, making sure to emphasize birthday boy because nuh-uh you and nabi will nOT line up for his own party <3 thank you very much

the children coo and the older kids coax the other ones to make way for the both of you to the front of the line, immediately plopping to a mini chair in front of the guy

“hiiii!!”

nabi drawls politely and waves his hand, making you do the same

“what a cute little thing,” the guy in front of you coos and it’s his voice that perhaps makes you melt a little, just seeing the top of his hair for now because he’s crouching down to be eye-level with nabi, “what can i do for you, little buddy?”

he toothily grins and straightens his posture, raising his eyes to look at who’s holding nabi in place and-

???????????????????

jungkook literally stops breathing for a second

“h-hi!! what can i do for you today?” jungkook squeaks, his eyes even more wide and curious to look at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life

you’re sure that you were gonna stammer once you open your mouth so you don’t at all, instead focusing on nabi who’s on your lap

“what do you want, monkey?”

“nabi please! i want nABI!!! nabi nabi nabiiiiiiiiii-“

“yes. he wants nabi, please.”

jungkook nods fervently, his hands about to pluck ballons from his kit before he realizes to ask

“does he want his face? or like, his name? what colors do you want, bud?”

he’s not the least bit bothered at the choices in his head because you’re widening your eyes on what could this guy dO with just balloons, knowing to yourself that even pumping one is difficult work already

“oh! he wants nabi,” you clarify and jungkook tilts his head, mouth slightly agape at to what you’re trying to get at, “butterfly, i mean. nabi knows that his name means butterfly and he likes them a lot! don’t you, monkey?”

nabi nods so hard that it almost gives him a headache and jungkook wants to facepalm himself to the grave

“r-right! why didn’t i think of that?? because nabi means.... nabi....... right!! sorry, oh my god. o-oh! i meant oh my gosh. i uhm-...”

he’s a mess and he knows it, letting his hands take over and grab the same theme colors of blue and lavender from his bag to start on his work

kook tries not to lift his head up ever so often because you’d find him out instantly that he’s looking at you

so what he does instead is peer and coo at nabi every few seconds and tHEN look up at you because you also giggle whenever he giggles

he’s probably feeling pressure with the way your eyes are set on him too and what he’s doing that he pOPS a balloon right with his hands

“sorry, sorry! did i spook you?”

jungkook’s worried because he heard a collective gasp from the kids around him but his main priority is the birthday boy AND you

nabi’s shoulders rose and that’s about it

he shakes his head to himself, looking at you who’s carrying a curious gaze on your face that looks amused

“sorry. i-it’s just you’re so pretty and-“

he’s embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl and her son and-

wait a second

the color just dRAINS from his face and he’s about to quit at the second

“oh my god i am so sorry. y-you must be nabi’s mother. you’re mr. taehyung’s-“

“friend!! i’m y/n, i’m just taehyung’s friend,” you interject quickly because you cannot believe that pretty boy called you pretty, and at the next breath thought you were taehyung’s wife, “and nabi’s my nephew. we’re all just friends who live together!! i have no boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

...

....

yeah maybe you embarrassed yourself this time

you may have said too much information to the balloon artist but jungkook’s just staring at you fondly

and nabi’s switching his gaze between the two of you and claps his hands to snap the two of you out of it lmao

kook chuckles to himself and he cannot stop smiling, even when he’s tying the last balloon to nabi’s butterfly

“there you go, cutie. happy birthday!!” he hands nabi the hUGE butterfly he just made but the sheer difference of how big it is makes the toddler even more happy, hugging it to his chest

jungkook watches you pepper kisses on nabi’s cheeks and that launches him into quickly pulling out balloons while your eyes are deviated from him, hands twisting and turning like his wHOLE LIFE depended on it

“my name’s jungkook, by the way,” he calls you when you’re just about to stand up, smiling giddily at you, “thought you should know.”

cute :-)

before you could thank him, he extends his arm and your mind recognizes the familiar shape which makes you smile instantly

jungkook made you a flower balloon <3

“i think i’ll remember you, jungkook.”

you laugh as the only thing you can smell from it is latex, the huge flower staring at you right in the face

jungkook sheepishly blushes, pursing his lips in happiness

“i’m free whenever you’re free — f-for a date, y’know? just so you could remember me more.”

bonus: dilf taehyung has his own drabble!!

bonus bonus: bestie anon brought my attention to these tiktoks below and gAWD i’m so happy <3

first, second

#drabble nights #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario

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bluegreenandpurple · 3 years

Text

Friends

Hi! Remember the HP Romione Popcorn Drabble thing? I was tagged by @honouraryweasley12 with the prompt "What did you just say to me?".

We're reaching the end of Autumn where I live, so to honour this yellowish season, I tag @thecanadiananimagus with the shedding of leaves as a prompt. Feel free to explore the concept in whichever way suits you, it doesn't have to be literal.

Without further ado, here's the drabble.

I hope you enjoy this Pre-Hogwarts AU, Rating PG-everyonecanreaditssafe .

---------

Hermione Jean Granger was unfriendable.

She was unable to establish a relationship with another kid. In her previous school, she thought she couldn’t befriend anybody because they disliked her since they were toddlers.

But having moved to another town and consequently to a new school, she couldn’t blame anything but herself. Despite all her efforts – and she had tried her best – the children of Ottery St Catchpole hated her. They called her names, they called her horrible words, they even sang her mocking songs.

So at the sweet age of eight, she had concluded that she carried a curse, a condition, a life sentence for loneliness. She could see it so clearly, an older version of herself with the same untamable hair, only grey, surrounded by cats. She would have to prepare herself and read about feline ca–

‘I hate when you’re so quiet, sweetheart.’ Her grandma's voice snapped her out of her head. ‘I know you’ve had some difficult days at school,’ she continued, ‘but you know what never fails to make me feel better when I’m sad.’

‘To do something nice?’

Grandma nodded and turned her head to look across the street, her eyes landing on a red-headed boy that was curled up on a bench. He appeared to be around Hermione’s age, and his face was full of worry.

She groaned internally as she realised what her grandma was thinking. She wanted her to help the boy. But Hermione was wary of talking to him as she didn’t fancy an extra dose of bullying; she’d had enough for the day at school.

School.

The redhead boy didn’t go to school!

So he wouldn’t know any of the names her classmates had given her and seeing that he was alone on a bench instead of playing with the other kids, the chances that he had made any acquaintances appeared to be small. Hermione felt a rush of excitement running through her. If she did well, she could still have a friend.

She would help the boy find his parents. He would see how kind and considerate she was and will want to become her friend. It was perfect! As she walked towards her soon-to-be friend, Hermione prepared a speech, practising many times in her mind until she was close enough to speak to him.

‘Are you lost?’ she asked shyly.

The boy jolted in his spot at the sound of her voice and hastily turned to face her. He looked surprised as if he wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him. His astonishment, however, was short-lived, for his raised eyebrows went down into a frown as he retorted.

‘I’m not lost! I just don’t know where my mum is!’

‘That is – by definition – being lost!’ Hermione scoffed. Who did he think he was? How dare he talk to her like that when she was only trying to help?

‘S not,’ he mumbled, seemingly ashamed of his previous outburst. Then his eyes opened wide as if he had just had the most brilliant idea, ‘My mum knows where I am! If she didn’t, I’d be lost. But she does, so I’m not. I’m just… in the wrong place.’ He finished with a proud smile.

‘That is not – ‘ the retort died in Hermione’s throat as she processed his words. He was right.

‘See it now, don’t you?’ he said with a wide lopsided grin.

Hermione felt how a smile spread across her face on its own accord. He chuckled as he saw her friendly gesture, and she let out all her nerves in the form of giggles. They locked their eyes and, for a moment, they both froze. Then, as if a switch had been flicked, they burst out in laughter. Hermione felt her knees get weak with the excess of happiness and took a seat on the bench next to the boy.

When the laughter subsided, and they collected themselves, the conversation began to flow. Hermione was eager to get to know him better, so she asked a myriad of questions. She was afraid that he would be annoyed by her but, on the contrary, he seemed to be thrilled by all the attention she was giving him. When she ran out of questions, she talked to him about her life. She felt at ease with him, and somehow they ended up talking about school.

She told him about her classes and her professors, but he didn’t seem particularly interested in them. He then asked her if she had friends, so she shared her experience within her few months of schooling at Ottery St Catchpole. She confided not only how hard it was for her to attend a place where no one liked her but also the atypical events that had been haunting her the last weeks. She was so caught up in her story that she almost lost his following words.

‘You’re a–!’ he stopped mid-sentence and looked around with cautious eyes, then he whispered, ‘You’re a witch!’

‘What did you just say to me?’ she snarled.

He was smiling, but as he took in her face, his eyes went wide open and his grin turned into a grimace. He began to fidget with the edge of the bench, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Hermione waited a moment, giving him time to take back his words, but as he kept gaping, she felt anger and frustration waving over her.

‘You just called me a–’

‘No, I didn’t!’ he squeaked.

‘You did! You just–’

‘Did not!’ he cried again, shaking his head with short, energetic movements.

‘Yes, don’t deny it!’ she shrieked, ‘You just called me a–’

‘RONALD WEASLEY!’

Both the kids jolted at the roar of a stern, feminine voice. At the same time, they turned to the source to find a short woman with the same flaming red hair as the boy walking in their direction. The woman was angry, Hermione could tell, and she felt relieved not to be the object of her rage. But whoever this Ronald was, he was doomed. She almost felt sorry for him until she turned back to the boy.

Realisation hit her like a train. Ronald was sitting in front of her, resting his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

‘I’m so dead!’ His voice was muffled, but Hermione could tell he was defeated.

‘If she knows, she will kill me!’ he whined. Then he lifted his head and looked at Hermione ‘Look, I’m sorry, okay?’

She was pleased that he was apologising, but she wouldn’t make it easy for him. So she crossed her arms and frowned. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he began to move his foot, playing with a stone. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and shy.

‘M sorry I called you a witch. I’m not supposed to say that to Mu–people. But I didn’t mean it as an insult. You see, to...to my family, that is not a bad word. It just slipped out.’

Hermione stood still, studying him. His eyes were bright and blue… and honest. And somehow, when she looked at him, she felt calmer. She felt–

‘You never, NEVER, do that to me again! Did you hear me?’ Ronald’s mum had just reached them, and as soon as she had him at hand, she grabbed him by the arm. She was throwing daggers at him with her eyes as she resumed her scolding.

‘You almost killed me! I thought I lost you! I–’

Hermione couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted from her as she saw Ronald’s face contorting in pain, as if his mum’s words were hitting him. It was hilarious. Just then, his mum seemed to become aware of Hermione’s presence. She hastily let go of her son as she turned to the girl, her expression changing from the angry nagging ogre to friendly and welcoming.

‘I’m sorry, dear. But I’m afraid I have to take Ronnie home. I hope he didn’t bother you so much. I apologise for being so rude, but we’re late; we have to leave. Goodbye, sweetheart.’

She made a gesture to her son to follow her as she turned around and began to walk away. Ronald shrugged and waved goodbye before running after his mum.

Hermione felt her chest become heavy as she saw him leave. She couldn’t wait to tell Grandma about Ronald. Would he be as eager as she was to tell his family about her? Would he talk to them about his new friend, Hermio– Oh, no!

She knew his name, but she hadn't told him hers!

Hermione began to run as fast as she could to catch them. She yelled his name, making them stop. He turned, and when he saw her coming, he ran back, meeting her halfway.

‘Hermione,’ she panted, ‘my name is Hermione Granger!’

‘Nice to meet you, then. Hermione Granger.’ He chuckled as he lifted his right hand for a handshake, ‘You can call me Ron.’

‘Nice to meet you too, Ron.’ She said as she grabbed his hand.

‘Will I see you again?’ Hermione asked as their hands broke apart.

‘Of course you will!’ he said as he began to step backwards. ‘You can’t get rid of me now,’ he continued as a wide grin took over his face.

‘We're friends!’ he shouted out in joy before he turned around and jogged back to his mum.

Hermione beamed as his last words echoed in her head.

Friends.

#HP ROMIONE POPCORN CHALLENGE #romione drabble #Pre Hogwarts #romione au #ron x hermione #hermione x ron #hermione granger x ron weasley #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger

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barnesand · 3 years

Text

the scent of old stories [ ii ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! author’s note: we have one cameo for this story so far, but hey, we’re back in the bookstore and the pining shall commence.

chapter one can be found here: x

You thought that your tedious workload would drown out the reminiscing thoughts of yesterday, but you were wrong. Despite having your hands full with at least ten toddlers that were all vying for your attention (Jess needed you to look at her blue clay creation, despite you having no actual clue what it was supposed to be), you mind still found its way back the Second Hand. Working at a day care center is usually all-consuming—you couldn’t think of the last time you found yourself blinking away thoughts, not when there were so many things happening all at once.

Not that the children you cared for were the embodiment of chaos. But you had to pay attention to them—they were toddlers.

Your encounter with Bucky was three days ago. And in those three days, your mind still plagued you with a looping thought: why haven’t you gone back? Your mind was very correct in questioning your avoidance of the store. There was no point to it—clearly, Bucky was flirting with you. You might have lost your ability to return flirtatious remarks, because of reasons, but there was no denying that fact. Bucky wanted you to come back, to get that list of his favorite haunts. And, maybe, he would tag along on a few of those locations.

Ninety percent of your brain was scolding you about it, while the remaining ten percent remained on the fence about it. You know—good old denial: because what if he wasn’t?

You wouldn’t call yourself outright pathetic for believing what the ten percent had to say, but you were disappointed in yourself. Disappointed that you couldn’t give in and just do it—you did, after all, make a deal to return. Bucky had given you a free book, and that free book had come with a condition, and you had to honor it. What kind of person would you be—what kind of bibliophile would you be—if you didn’t honor it? But because you still quaked at the idea of returning, and because you feared that you would become a sputtering mess once again, you wouldn’t.

You’d considered gaining an outside perspective—but you didn’t really know your coworkers well enough. You spoke to them about several things, of course, but you hadn’t delved into the personal topics yet. You also humored the idea of calling your mother—but you really didn’t need to go down that wormhole of call. She’d find your indecisive thoughts a hint that you secretly wanted to come back home and you didn’t want to have an argument over that again.

By now, your ten toddlers have been corralled by another associate into quiet time—and for a brief second you considered asking your kids if you should go back to the pretty man at the bookstore. No—no, that’s too complicated of a story to tell and their track record with opinions wasn’t doing so well for you.

Your quiet dilemma would remain that—a quiet one.

In the last hours of your shift, you tried to occupy your mind as much as possible. The toddlers kept in your care must have noticed the keen focus you developed, because they seemed more chaotic than usual. By the end of it, they were nearly tired out as their parents picked them up. Once the last child was picked up, you quickly cleaned up the mess they’d made. Indeed, you did manage to lose track of those plaguing thoughts, but the moment you were alone they returned as loud as ever. You pressed your head to the too-small crafting table and let out a meager sigh.

“Do I go?” You said out loud, tapping your forehead once more—you wanted to knock the solution out of your head, but it wasn’t really working.

“Go where?”

You didn’t move from your position entirely, instead only shifting your head to the side to find one of your coworkers in the doorway to the playroom. Joaquin Torres was one of the coworkers you’d considered telling about your current situations. He was nice—well, nearly everyone who worked with you seemed nice, but he felt genuinely nice. He didn’t enter the room entirely, instead leaning the top half of his body inward. Almost as if he didn’t want to impose on your moment. You lifted your head, pulling yourself up from your crouching position to stand.

“Um,” you started. You straightened your clothes, re-tucking your shirt into your slacks. “Well—there’s this bookstore on the way home, and I don’t know if I should go back.”

“You like books, don’t you? Seems like an easy yes.” He joked, bringing himself into the room.

Oh, you wished it were an easy decision for you. The laugh that left you was short, slightly strained. Your hands settled on your hips.

“One would think that.” You nibbled at the inside of your cheek. “But the owner is really cute. And I think he’s expressed interest in me. I—yeah, I’m usually not like this around men but he’s really cute.”

He nodded. You couldn’t believe it was that easy to talk to him about it—geez, you should have mentioned it to him days ago. Even if he wasn’t responding right away, but you could see the contemplation in the furrow of his brow and that was enough. If Joaquin could just make that decision for you, all the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders would be lifted easily. Come to your rescue, please. Joaquin put his hands on his hips and gave yet another nod.

“You should probably stock up on kids’ books. It looks like they took a few.” He pointed to the bookshelf behind you—which, to your knowledge, was fuller than it usually was. But… you got the point. “Does this bookstore carry children’s books.”

Your heart was sputtering along, like the little engine that could. The only problem was that you don’t think you can. But you’ve already decided that you would follow Joaquin’s choice. If that meant that you would have to go to the Second Hand on your way home from work—for children’s books—then that was simply what you had to do. And if you saw Bucky instead of his employee, then that was just a bonus. Your sputtering heart could handle it; you think.

“Then,” you said, drawing in a deep sigh. “I will go grab some more books.”

You didn’t expect for the mid-September chill to creep in so quickly, but you wound up clutching your reefer coat closer to your body as you walked down the street. The small shop sign above the Second Hand grew closer, and your hands were already clammy at the idea of seeing him again. You already resigned to following Joaquin’s plan, that your intentions for coming in were for the kids only, but your body reacted otherwise. You’d stopped in front of the insurance agency, drawing in a deep breath to steel your nerves.

It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

A minute passed before you practically shoved yourself forward, scampering past the first window and through the door. The bell sang above you, and only the heads of other patrons perked up at the sound of it. To you, that felt like a good sign. Maybe he would become too occupied by the other people in the store to notice that you came back. You didn’t see any signs of Bucky, but you did find the aisle for children on the first floor, and you quickly made your way to the section.

It was colorful to say the least, and despite the fullness of the shelves it was surprisingly well organized. When it came to children’s books, though, you always veered toward the colorful ones. You crouched down, your fingers gliding across the thin spines of the books. The titles didn’t directly jump out at you, but then again, your mind was occupied, and you were constantly side glancing at the end of the aisles. But crouching on your knees, especially after a long day, proved taxing and you quickly moved to sit cross-legged on the floor. You did have three books picked out so far.

You heard the familiar thrum of Alpine’s purring behind you, and soon felt the feline brushing up against your back. You looked over your head, already smiling at the sight of them. How rude you were to not consider seeing Alpine again when you were stressing over the initial decision. Of course, you missed them, and their spine that was practically begging to be pet. But when you reached for them, they moved out of the way, only to come back. You shook your head, lightly laughing beneath your breath.

“What a tease,” you whisper, bending down.

You managed to rest a single fingertip beneath Alpine’s chin, scratching softly until the purring was so loud it could be a beacon to other cats. Your smiling was beaming, and you dared to scratch behind their ear.

You saw him move in a blur past your aisle, a massive stack of books in his arms—arms that were surprisingly thick and strained against the fabric of his Henley shirt. You would have paused the attention you were giving Alpine, but they absolutely refused to let you stop. And you didn’t have any time to move to a different aisle before Bucky reversed and filled the end of the aisle.

He wasted no time when it came to showing you that smile that made you swoon—almost, but your cheeks did feel warmer. You did smile back, hand still on Alpine.

“Hi,” you said first.

“Look who showed up,” Bucky responded with a short laugh. “Lemme put these books down, Reader. Hang on.”

As exhilarating as it was to watch him hold all those books, which caused your stomach to become all fluttery, you nodded in response. Were you always into arms? You’d assumed you were more into asses, but maybe you were wrong—it could just be all of him. Either way, he disappeared for a moment, and you quickly stole a breath for yourself. You considered standing up, but your legs felt as heavy as cement at the thought of it and you merely set the children’s books on one of the shelves and put your hands in your lap.

When Bucky came back, he had a folded papers in his hand and in one swift movement settled on to the floor beside you, his back pressed to the bookshelf you were facing. The three days you spent avoiding must’ve erased your memory of his appearance because pretty didn’t seem to cut it anymore. Your skin felt hot, your eyes tracing along the sharpness of his jawline, and your mouth practically watering at the pinkness of his soft lips. You were in way too deep, and, again, you were suddenly so concerned about Bucky noticing it.

He eyed you, the light from the fluorescents catching the cerulean of his irises so well. Like crystal clear waters.

He cleared his throat, unfolding the papers in his hand and from what you could tell he put too much effort into the list. Your eyes widened and you choked on a snort.

“Okay, uh,” you stammered for words. “That’s a lot.”

“I told you it would be extensive,” he chortled. “You’ve spent months here and you’ve only gone to the Brooklyn Bridge? It’s offensive.”

“I’ve gone to Coney Island!” You defended yourself. You leaned in, a momentary lapse in judgement. You eyed the list. “Which you’ve put on the list, by the way.”

“It’s for the experience.” He pointed beneath it, and you saw that he’d scribbled bullet points between each attraction he wanted you to see. “Two Coney dogs and then the Cyclone.”

You already found your mind filtering through the imagery of you on the Cyclone, knuckles blanched white as you gripped the handlebars for dear life. That wasn’t the issue, but instead the issue that arose from Bucky’s experience was the future candid photo immortalizing you vomiting the hot dogs you would have ingested beforehand. The hidden cameras on theme park rides always captured the worst moment, and for all you knew, that’s what Bucky was hoping for.

“You put thought into this list,” you commended him. “And you don’t even know me.”

A lot more thought than you’d initially anticipated; it would have made more sense if he simply told you a couple of places to visit. But to make at least two pages worth of locations and hidden spots for someone he’d only met once made no sense to you—that level of detail was better used one someone he knew.

He drew in a hiss of air, shoulders lifting in exaggeration before he seemed to settle on his next thought before glancing down at the list that now saw neatly in your lap. The tip of his tongue slipped out between his lips, swiping at the corner of his mouth—a habit you’ve come to notice, in the two times you’ve seen him.

“What better way to get to know each other than by doing the things on my list.”

You might as well resign yourself to this fate; it wasn’t as if you were going to be outright tortured by him (torture, fortunately, was nowhere to be found on his list). No, the fear that bubbled up your throat was purely at the idea that after all of this Bucky might realize that making such an extensive list may have been wasted on you. You weren’t boring, but you sedentary life had created a barrier between you and uninhibited fun. All those years at grad school where you buckled down to work on your degree had muffled that ability have fun.

But you wanted to get to know him. You wanted to know about the store, and how it came to be. There were other things—other things that made your cheeks redden and mouth water—that you wanted to know as well, but those would be better kept to yourself.

Finally, after much quiet thought, you nodded at him.

“We did have a deal.” You waved the list in the air. “So what are we doing first?”

He smiled widened, and you lost your breath when he moved to pat your thigh with a metallic hand. “Attagirl, Reader.”

#( bucky barnes. )#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bookstore au #mcu fanfiction

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cottoncandyqueersworld · 3 years

Text

Please go easy on me....it's been a few years since I've written a story let alone letting someone read my trash writing.

Enjoy ~

A long and angry growl from my stomach bubbled audibly against the palm of my hand. On any other day I would have been okay with having to skip breakfast....even if it was getting close to dinner time....but we had been walking all over downtown Chicago. I was rightfully starving.

" Ugh! I don't think I can go on any longer.....I might die..." I whined, hoping for a reaction from the group but all I got was an irritated response from Kyle.

" For the last time we don't have time to stop and eat River.... we're so close to the performance spot and if we're even a minute late they'll -"

" What IS that smell?..." I asked cutting him off in the process. I began looking around to find where the sickly sweet smell was coming from and then I saw it in all it's glory...Rainbow letters spelled out The Yummy Tummy Co. The soft pink building was just screaming at me to come and sample there sweets. I wiped the drool from my face and whipped my head around and looked up at Kyle

" We don't HAVE to be at the park until 6ish. It's only 4:15 Ky.....give me half an hour. Quick in and out and I'll meet you guys there. " I even gave him a little pout but it wasn't enough. He crossed his arms like an annoyed parent with there child. I was losing hope until an idea hit me.

"C'mon I KNOW your hungry too....what if I get you something so your not all cranky when we preform huh? You wanna do your best right?" He raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"25 minutes and half a dozen blueberry glazed doughnuts.... we'll meet you there." I practically jumped in the air and raced to the bakery, barely doing cars as I crossed the busy street.

I opened the bakery door and a wave of sweet hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt a twinge of anxiety set in as nobody came to greet me....matter of fact nobody else was there. I was alone.

"Hhheeelllllllllllllllllllllllllooooo?" I called out, sightly annoyed that I was gonna leave empty handed. Right as I was about to turn around I saw a plate of brownies sitting on the corner near the cash register with a free sample sign poking out of one of the many brownies.

"Well....I don't think much harm will come if I just take a few....right?..." My stomach answered with a growl and I grabbed the plate of brownies and was about to sit down when I figured it would be a good idea to grab a drink too....I was about to play for thousands of people....I wanna sound good for all the lovely ladies out there I thought to myself as I scanned the room for something to drink and then I saw the customer fridge stocked with pops and teas but I had my heart set on the Cookies' n Cream milk. I heard kyles nagging voice in the back of my head saying that I shouldn't be messing with dairy because there wouldn't be time for a bathroom break but I shook the thought out of my head and looked at the clock on the wall... 4:17....oh I definitely have time. I sat down and licked my lips as I examined the feast in front of me. A large plate of brownies and 5 20oz bottles of Cookies'nCream milk. With a big smile on my face I grabbed my first brownie in dug in.

This was by far the best tasting ANYTHING I have ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth. It was still warm and a just a touch under baked so it was extra gooey. The fudgyness of the brownie accompanied by the chocolate chips that seemed to melt in my mouth kept my tastebuds begging for more. After I finished that first brownie I chugged a bit of the milk and before I knew it I had a good system going. I'd take a few bites than take a huge gulp of milk and I continued this for awhile.

I began to feel my belly expand around the 5 or 6th brownie. I leaned back against the counter and patted my belly. I was starting to fill up fast but they tasted ssooo good. I unbuttoned my shorts, giving my belly more room to grow as I chuckled to myself. I was definitely a messy eater. Crumbs and mostly eaten brownie bits scattered all over. I had chocolate stains on my shirt that and the tips of my fingers. No doubt my face was covered in the choclately goodness. A satisfied burp escaped my lips and I gave my belly a little rub as I unzipped my shorts. I could telly belly was getting really bloated but to what extent I didn't know. I've always kinda had this fantasy about making myself as huge as possible. The feeling of my soft jiggly belly and massive thighs was always a little bit of a turn on. I felt my face heat up as I was making myself excited. I moaned as I felt all the brownies making their way through my digestive system. I felt as if I died and went to heaven. But before I could grab another brownie I head footsteps in the distance. My heart dropped. I wasn't alone after all. Before I even had time to react I felt hands bang down on the counter I was sitting infront of. Thank God for the ledge of the counter that was hiding me. I could tell my the groans and angry noises coming from whoever was behind the counter that they weren't pleased with my little snack.

"Who the fuck ate all the brownies?? Ugh I JUST made them this morning! I didn't even get to try this new recipe.....WHOEVER did this needs to fess up NOW!" The fiery voice demanded. I was hoping for a quick escape since they hadn't noticed me yet since they had come from behind the counter and I was sitting infront of it I was hoping I could just crawl out and quickly make a run for it but my stomach had other plans as a long low growl gave away my position. Shit. I looked up at the same time a very confused pair of thick glasses looked down at me. I felt my face flush. I considered myself a 'smooth talker' when it came to women but she was different. For once I had nothing to say. My mind went blank. She walked around to the front of the counter and I sheepishly stood up. There was a breaf silence until she asked

" Where they good at least? I've been trying these different recipes and I thought I finally got it right but I wasn't sure so I left them out as free samples" she was looking me up and down. I had forgotten that my shorts were completely undone and I could have easily put a toddler to shame with how messy I had ate them.

"Y-yeah they were amazing! You should DEFINITELY keep that recipe. " I finally had enough courage to look up at her. She was a hair taller than me, just under 6ft. She had dirty blonde hair that was down framing for face, and the most beautiful sky blue eyes I had ever seen. She had a Beatles shirt on from their '64 would tour, black jeans and combat boots. I felt my face turn another shade of darker red when I realized I had gotten lost in her eyes.

"I'm Kat" she said with a smile.

" River......my name's River." I said with a nervous smile. ' Jesus what is wrong with me? Why is she making me so nervous? Why is my heart beating so fast?' my stomach growled breaking my train of thought. 'why on earth am I still hungry???' I sighed and placed a hand on my belly.

" Guess I'm still kinda hungry.....would you mind if?....I mean I'll pay of course even though they're free samples I'd feel bad...Oh! And all the drinks......" I reached into my back pocket ready to pay the small fortune but I got no response from her regarding a prince. I looked at her again to only see she wasn't even paying attention to my words. No. She was fixated on my belly. her face was a little flushed with what I'd assume was excitement as she was biting her bottom lip. I quickly pulled my shirt down and began to button up my shorts. ' no worded she's staring at you she probably thinks your a fucking fat pig' I thought to myself. She quickly noticed this and her eyes grew wide.

" No no no please don't. I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.... Your belly is just so massive.....it's kinda....hot..." She trailed off as she took a step closer. My eyes widened in disbelief. 'hot?? She thinks I'M hot???' damn it. I was at a lose for words again.

" You think I'm....hOt?" My voice cracked. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.....

She nodded her head as she messed with her hair " Yes, very.....but you mentioned you where still hungry?"

"Yeah, but I don't think I can eat anymore brownies." I said sheepishly.

" Oh? Well lucky for you this is a well stocked bakery. Follow me." With a flip of her hair she spun around and beckoned me to follow with her finger. How could I say no? I shrugged and without another thought I followed her behind the counter. I could tell things were about to get interesting.

#feed me #stuffing kink #getting fatter #wg kink #fat belly #chubby belly #wg fiction #wg story

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