#I’M SO HAPPY HE’S LIVING HIS BEST LIFE BAKING AND DRAWING AND LIVING WITH HIS GRANDMA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

navybrat817 · 10 months

Text

Sweet as Cherry Pie

Pairing: Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve comes home with great news, but you're not as happy as you should be. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Steve Rogers (yep, he's a warning and a little mean) A/N: Steve and Cherry's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You always enjoyed baking. It gave you something to do with your hands and the hobby was both simple and challenging. It required focus for measuring and following directions, but you also had fun with your creations. It seemed to be one of the only ways you could express yourself now, which clouded your feelings when you focused too much on it.

I will not feel sorry for myself. I have a good life. The best life.

Being the wife of Steve Rogers was a dream come true. The man was handsome, loving, a hero. The all American dream wrapped up in the perfect package. He worked hard to provide you both with a lovely home and didn't ask for much in return. Only that you follow his orders and be dutiful.

A good wife obeys her husband.

You idly wiped down the counter as you waited for the oven timer to go off, glancing at one of the photos Steve placed near the window. While he smiled from ear-to-ear, yours was a little more reserved. He loved drawing and taking photos of you, but there weren’t any photos of the two of you before you moved to The Haven. They were somehow lost in the move.

Not that I remember packing any of my stuff, but my old place doesn’t matter, does it?

The sound of Steve’s motorcycle pulling into the garage pulled you from your distracted thoughts. He normally called if he was going to come home early. The sound of the door would indicate if he was back for a good or bad reason. Either way, he’d take his mood out on your body. You had to look presentable.

A good wife lives to please her husband.

You threw your apron off and rushed to your room to put on the cherry scented perfume he liked. He enjoyed it because it was seductive and sensual, sweet and tart, good enough to eat. As if on autopilot, you applied it to the same four spots: behind your ear, at the base of your neck, your wrist, and behind your knee. You retouched your lips next, staring at the tube of lipstick once you finished. It wasn't a color you wore until you moved in with him.

Steve picked it because he knows best.

When you looked at your beautiful reflection in the mirror, the urge to smash it began to surface. A flickering flame grew within you, threatening to spread like wildfire as you dropped the lipstick into the sink. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty for your husband. You just wished the person staring back at you was one you recognized.

I’m Cherry. I’m Mrs. Steve Rogers. I’m happy.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called to you before he gently shut the door. He was in a good mood at least. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

You straightened your dress and brushed off any negativity that bubbled under your skin as you went to greet him. Not a single blonde hair of his was out of place as he took in the sight of you. The need to impress him took over your thoughts. “Hi. Cookies are almost done,” you said, pressing your red lips to his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see my beautiful wife,” he asked as he slipped off his shoes and guided you toward the kitchen. Any excuse to touch you, he did. “Why? Are you not happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you,” you said as you grabbed an oven mitt. The timer went off a second later and his eyes didn’t leave you as you carefully took the sheet out. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s great,” he said, inspecting the cookies as you set them on the stove. You knew it was a wonderful batch without tasting them. The perfect man, he expected perfection in every extension of him. Which is why you didn’t make mistakes with any of your baking or cooking. "I have the best news.”

"Oh? What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Bucky’s married!" he said, taking you by the waist to twirl you around. “Can you believe it?”

"Married?" you repeated, not as happy as your husband. The news should’ve excited you since Bucky was his best friend, but it confused you. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone."

"No? I swore I told you he had his eye on someone,” he said with a condescending chuckle. “Makes me think you don’t pay attention when I speak to you, but that can’t be it, right?”

You went rigid in his grasp when he smiled. It reminded you of a demon, the shades of red and darkness showing in his eyes and perfect row of teeth. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Silly me,” you tried to giggle.

Like so many other things.

You didn’t relax until he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Because you’re so busy taking care of me, which I appreciate,” he praised you, his smile softer. Kinder. “And it’s better most days when I do the thinking for you.”

You bit your tongue so hard you almost drew blood, wanting to say that you were more than just a pretty face. The words didn’t come though. “You know best, Steve” you said as you plastered a smile on your face, your voice somewhat hollow after his insult. “And I love taking care of you.”

If he noticed your lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t say so. “Back to the good news,” he said, swaying with you even though there was no music. “It was a quick engagement and they didn’t want to wait. I wish I could’ve been at the ceremony, but I had that mission and I don’t blame him one bit for not waiting.”

“I’m sure he would’ve loved for you to be his best man.”

“He would’ve, but I'm happy that he’s happy. When you know, you know,” he said, tapping the tip of your nose. “Like the moment I met you. I knew you were going to be my wife."

Your smile faltered a little. It was difficult some days to remember just how you two came to be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. You knew you loved him, but the actual process of falling for him? The build up of the relationship? It was like there was a chapter missing.

The past is the past and I have everything I need in the present.

Steve looked at you expectantly as you blinked. You needed to focus. “Just like I knew you’d be my husband.”

He hummed, seemingly pleased with your response. "We're going to meet her soon. Will you do me a favor, please? Make her feel welcome?" He suggested, but it was more like a command. He sometimes liked to phrase things in ways that made it sound as if you had a say in the matter, but his word was law. “Bucky’s my best friend and I want you two to be best friends.”

"Of course. It’ll be nice to have a new friend.”

“And once she’s settled in, I know they’re going to start trying for a family,” he went on, placing his hand on your stomach. “Which means we can try, too. Our kids can grow up together, the way Bucky and I did. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Steve would be the best father. He deserves a family. So does Bucky.

“So wonderful,” you whispered, afraid you’d cry if you raised your voice. You wish you knew why the thought of having children with the man you loved scared you.

“Maybe we can start practicing,” he said, his voice huskier as he gripped your hips. “A bit of dessert before dinner.”

You didn’t protest as he backed you against the counter. Your body would welcome him home the way it always did. He’d please you as you pleased him.

“And Cherry?”

“Yes, Steve?” you asked as he dipped his head to inhale your perfume.

“Make a cherry pie for me to send to Bucky’s house. I don’t think he plans on leaving anytime soon and he isn’t letting his wife leave the bed. We can’t let them go hungry now, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied, closing your eyes as he pushed your dress up.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

Happy husband. Happy wife. Happy life.

All good in the neighborhood, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #disturbia au #steve and cherry #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

466 notes · View notes

shytastemakerthing · 11 months

Note

I saw that your match ups were open and wanted to give it a shot. May I request a romantic twst matchup? I’m a Implagender omniromantic person that usually struggles a lot with my identity and personality, I’m south East Asian with tanned skin, dark maroon colored jellyfish cut, (but I usually put my bangs in a similar way like Haruka from pjsk cause I like putting on cute hair clips and head accessories). I’m usually pretty quiet around everyone but those I’m close to, I’m pretty loud and outgoing when I’m with people I get along with. I like to draw, play violin, cook, bake, and sew a lot. I’m really good with kids and bunch of other household tasks and I’ve done a lot of babysitting + doing a bunch of commissions for drawing and sewing things to earn extra money for myself since my family isn’t well off it also adds work experience I can put on resumes for the future. I’m pretty decent in school, although recently I’ve been doing a bit terrible since my motivation for school is going down and only finish stuff I feel like is easy/quick to complete. My love language is words of affirmation plus acts of service. I’m also really into fashion (specifically agejo hime and rokku gyaru + Ouji Fashion as well) and I love styling outfits. I want to become a kindergarten teacher in the future, and I’ve also composed a few songs on violin.

Hello! I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to finally get back to answering these! Thank you so much for your patience!

Now, onto our match up!!

I match you with.......

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇 Okay, look, someone has to be able to ame care of the Diasomnia family and make sure none of then get killed because of Lilia's cooking and here you come in like an angel sent from above!

🦇 No, seriously, they all love you, they live your cooking, Malleus especially loves hearing you okay your violin (as someone who also plays violin), he finds it rather comforting, and he is extremely happy that Lilia has found someone after so long.

🦇 The fact that you love children has Lilia falling even harder for you. He has Silver, and while it took him some time to get used to raising a child, liking children, let alone one that was human, after fighting in a war essentially most of his life and seeing how you are so easily able to care for others, how you are with children, how it just comes so naturally to you? He feels his heart swell and warm up at the sight. It also makes him wonder how different things could have been without the war and all. But, what's done is done.

🦇 Okay, back to the happy. He LOVES seeing you interact with children. How they always are so quick to warm up to you, the smile you have on your face and thr laughter? He smiles every time.

🦇 As for motivation? Who better than Lilia? Between raising Silver, training he and Sebek as knights, taking care of Malleus, Lilia knows his way around how to best keep someone motivated. Are some of his methods out there?........ most likely. But he really does mean well and everyone can see that.

🦇 If words of affirmation are what you need, then words of affirmation you will be getting. From the moment that you get up to the moment you go to bed, he will be sparing nothing. You have woken up many times with a simple rose near you with a heart felt letter or even a hand written poem about all the things he loves about you. And acts of service is something he does in his day to day life as it is and it only intensifies when he is with you.

🦇 Now, Lilia is rather old, meaning he has seen a lot of fashion come and go throughout the centuries, and he has worn and tried out many of them. If you ever want him to model, feel free and ask him, but also expect him to send out a flirtatious remark or two. But he absolutely loves this either way. Meaning he will also help supply any materials you may need. You'll never run out again.

🦇 Money is not an issue with him, and even if so, he basically raised Malleus. Malleus sees you as a parental figure. As soon as he catches and kind of money and financial issues, literally the issues will evaporate.

🦇 Overall, bat dad can and will provide. He will help you through it all, and give you as many affirming words that you will need, he will help you with modeling your clothes at time just to see that smile on your face. Just save Diasomnia from his cooking and all will be well

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #matchups #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #romantic #twst lilia x reader #twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

22 notes · View notes

pastel-cuite · 10 days

Text

Wip

Here’s my rottmnt ivy!

The yokai frog!

(This drawing is her growing up that’s all lol)

Anyways she kinda grew up in the beautiful lake town where’s there’s other yokai amphibians/reptiles live in here

Of course ivy is born into a rich family since her mother is known for her beauty and best selling boutique while her dad is very wealthy and smart! Ivy only have two older sisters, the oldest named sunny who follows in her mother’s footsteps while her second older sister just wants to live her life normally but of course their mother doesn’t accept “rowdy”or ”unladylike” nature in her household even though ivy doesn’t like the annoying fancy rules in her mother’s household.

Ivy’s relationship with her family/friends!

—1 dad: “I love my dad but we’re not that close or sometimes don’t see eye to eye…he’s mostly focused on her career making sure our home is at float I guess…”

—2 Mom: “She’s always trying to control my life and how I dress like I have to freaking wear stupid fancy dresses or something that my mother would approve of….why can’t she just accept me who I am….”

—3 Sunny (older sister): “I don’t know what’s her deal is with me? Like she’s always had to one up me or my other older sister about who can impress my mother more! I know sunny is my mother’s favorite child but damn…why can’t we be sisters who know..?”

—4 poppy (second oldest sister): “She’s pretty cool and I tend to hang out with her more often than my whole family but she’s grown and starting her life, which I’m proud of her that but I wish her the best in life…love ya sis💕”

(That’s her family dynamics!)

—5 Vinny (childhood best friend): “What else I got to say? Vinny is the bestest friend I could ask for and I would never change that in the world!”

—6 Mona Lisa (really good best friend): “She’s really sweet and I love her baking bring very happy positivity around us in our friendship! Also she’s cool and strong for a alligator yokai!”

—7 Andy (third best friend!): “This adorable axololi bean is most cutest boi ever! Also I love his painting always works a beautiful Picasso!”

(This is her best friend dynamics!🌸💕)

Also ivy is short af lol

(When she’s a teenager she’s 4’9 but when she was at least 18 she grew a lil bit lol)

Oh yea she ran away from home her mother set her up for an future arrange marriage with a Mr. Toad is who another rich man but very creepy…so ivy just snuck out along side with her friends well at first they came out looking for her when they did ivy explained to her friends why she ran away from home cuz she couldn’t stand being in home where mother goes around trying to find a rich man who twice her age to be dating soooo…yea they decided to just leave the lake town never look back and that’s when they ended up in New York City!

(Ima stop right here but you get the story)

#rottmnt season 3 #rottmnt oc #tmnt fandom #rottmnt fandom #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt fanart #tmnt oc

5 notes · View notes

pretzelpizzapuppy · 1 year

Text

Silly doodle of the peepaw for @sonic-oc-showdown ! plus the oc questions thing under the read more :3

Name: Ignatius

Species: Domestic Cat

Home: He travels wherever the wind takes him!

✨ How did you come up with the OC’s name?

I think I just looked up like, old people names LOL I don’t remember for sure tho.

🧑‍🦳 How old are they?

He’s in his 60s!

💞 Do they have any love interests?

Ehh not anyone specifically! Might make him a husband eventually.

🥞 What is their favorite food?

Hmmm... Probably belgian waffles with far too many toppings.

💼 What do they do for a living?

He’s a freelance detective! Sort of. He’s supposed to be retired but it’s hard to keep him in place.

🏐 Do they have any hobbies?

He loves anything to do with puzzles! Puzzle games, actual puzzles, escape rooms, murder mystery media... He also enjoys beach sports like volleyball but it’s a bit hard on his body now. He also likes to bake and mix drinks. He’s a jack of all trades honestly, he’s quite restless.

🎯 What do they do best?

Solving mysteries of course! He’s also a pretty darn good cook, if you’ll allow him to toot his own horn.

🥊 What do they love? What do they hate?

His one true love is puzzles, if it’s not clear enough yet! He also loves the beach and relaxing in the sun! He dislikes dreary weather, feels it makes him far too serious and stern! He’s also not one for stuffy museums, he’d much rather be learning from communities themselves! He’s a very knowledge focused guy but enjoys the experience of learning from enthusiastic people rather than textbooks. He really enjoys watching older shows too! MASH and ST:TOS being among his favorites. Imagine those in the Sonic universe however you please LOL

📸 What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Hmm... really, he savors the feeling of helping people! Each and every person he’s helped is slotted into his brain like a polaroid!

✂️ What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Yeesh, he’s too old to dwell on these things! If he kept track of every failed case and the homophobia and ableism he’s had tossed his way in life he’d have no time for the things he enjoys!

🏚️ Is their current design their first one?

Sure is! I tend to stick with designs once I make them. Little changes may happen here and there to make them easier for me to draw but typically, my designs stay the same! His fur pattern might be choppy or smooth depending on the amount of time I want to put into drawing it though LOL

🧠 What originally inspired this OC?

Sara was drawing Sonic OCs and I hadn’t ever really put the time into making one. So I sat down, grabbed a pelt pattern I liked, and took a LOT from Benoit Blanc from Knives Out. Someone in the tags of his poll said he’s got Columbo energy but I haven’t actually watched it so I can’t say for sure whether he carries those traits or not. My favorite color is purple so it tends to sneak into my designs. I made him about a month before the Sonic Murder Mystery game hilariously enough.

🎬 What genre do they belong in?

Mystery of course! Maybe comedy/mystery?

🏳️‍🌈 What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Gay for sure, trans maybe? I haven’t decided for sure and I don’t think he’s the type to really care too much for labels for himself. He uses He/Him mostly but won’t go out of his way to correct people.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 How many siblings does your OC have?

I haven’t really thought about it honestly. I’ll probably give him a sister. Feels right.

🧑‍🍼 What is the OC’s relations w/their parents like?

Not great. He was outed in his late teens and they. Did not react well. He already had a rough time from his undiagnosed autism and it never really got better. He’d liked to have improved things with them but he just... never really got around to it.

💜 What do you like most about the OC?

I just think he’s a silly guy :) I am pretty happy with his design too! I’m quite proud of how my skills have improved in that aspect.

🖍️ How often do you draw/write about the OC?

This is honestly the most I’ve done since making him LOL I work a full time job and my brain is more focused on Warriors atm tbh

🔪 Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Oh absolutely not. I’m the type of guy who makes ocs for fun and to push them together like dolls! Maybe if I made him as a teen things would be different.

💀 Does your OC have any phobias?

Sort of? He’s got a lot of mental things going on about germs. Washes his hands a LOT and is very aware of just how much others don’t. Maybe snakes too since he’s a cat.

❤️‍🔥 Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

His own mind if truly his greatest enemy tbh. Turns out that constantly being on alert for clues can make you a little paranoid.

⏱️ How long have you had the OC?

According to discord, since January 17th, 2023!

#sonic oc

17 notes · View notes

un0vian · 2 years

Note

What are your headcannons on the gen 5 rival (and N if you don't think he counts as a rival)

(Btw luv ur art)

OH I love this question (also, tysm!) It’s been a while since I’ve played BW, and I haven’t played BW2, but I’ll give my headcanons on all of them

I’ll start with the best Gen 5 rival, Bianca (/hj). Bianca would be the type to bake cookies for everybody, and specifically bakes types of cookies that her friends like (for example, oatmeal raisin for Cheren, chocolate chip for Hilbert/Hilda, gingerbread for N, etc. Bianca’s favorite is Snickerdoodle). I also feel like Bianca would be the type to doodle all over things, her papers and reports, notebooks, that stuff; and perhaps she’d be one of those people that’s like “oh no, I don’t really draw :)” and then whips out a fully shaded pencil sketch of Cheren lmao

Cheren. This guy. Obviously he’s a dork. But in a specific way, I think he would be the type to be insanely good at a certain nerdy video game or niche skill, and doesn’t tell anyone about it. Maybe he’s one of those crazy osu players, or maybe he can do a flip; but he’s never going to show/tell anybody (at least, that’s what HE thinks). Cheren has unironically pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and said “Tch.” Bianca and Hilbert/Hilda witnessed it and never let him live it down; in fact, when Bianca got her glasses, she would impersonate him every now and then and Bianca & Hilbert/Hilda would laugh SO hard. Also, Cheren is the type to do nice things for his friends wordlessly. Bianca would talk about this cute Munna plush she saw online and Cheren would buy it for her and put it in her bag or something while she was distracted. He would instinctively heal Hilbert/Hilda’s Pokémon. And lastly, Cheren is the type to be able to shuffle a deck of cards in a crazy cool way with all of that cool flair, but then only be able to play Go Fish.

Names Hatrick Gullivan (my loving nickname for Natural Harmonia Gropius). For some reason I feel like N would have insane coordination skills, and would be able to learn a dance sequence/ dance choreography really easily. That being said, he doesn’t really… feel the need to dance, so he doesn’t. But when Hilbert/Hilda realized just how much control he has over his body (despite being a beanpole) they IMMEDIATELY beg him to learn how to Tango or something (and he does). Like Cheren, N looks out for his friends and shows that he cares for them in his own way, but he doesn’t shy away from saying things directly to his friends; how happy he is to have them in his life, giving their Pokémon treats, complimenting the care they give to their Pokémon, etc.

HUGH. Admittedly I don’t know too much about this guy; I believe he’s avenging his sister, who got her Pokémon stolen by the cult if I recall correctly. I picture him being very blunt and honest, but not in a purposely mean or rude way (at least by the end of the game). I think it’s funny to picture this guy saying the first thing that comes into his head when he’s reacting to what someone says. I can imagine that Hugh has blurted out curse words in front of Professor Juniper before, leading Rosa/Nate to laugh out loud super hard while the Professor shook her head.

These were some of my thoughts, thanks for the ask! Sorry about the weird paragraph formatting, it might fix itself when I press post but I’m not sure.

#long post #headcanons #anonymous #anon #pkmn black and white #pkmn bw #pkmn b2w2 #rival bianca #rival cheren #natural harmonia gropius #names hatrick gullivan #rival hugh #trainer hilbert #trainer hilda #trainer nate #trainer rosa #honestly proud I remembered the B2W2 protagonist names

40 notes · View notes

sl-newsie · 10 months

Text

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Ch. 23: Goodbye?

��Well I do think it’s a subject best discussed in a more private setting?” I hint at the bystanders, but it goes completely over Ben’s head.

Thankfully Evie seems to catch my drift and starts ushering the others away. “Something tells me we’re needed elsewhere.”

Jay frowns, confused. “No we’re not. Where are we- ouch!”

“Let’s go!”

Evie pushes Jay down the hall towards the stairs and the others follow, leaving me with a very animated Carlos.

“You’re leaving? You’re leaving. You’re…”

In a few moments I’ve gotten Carlos to calm down and sit next to me. “You know I can’t stay, Freckles. You’ve seen how much I’m a misfit here. At least you guys found ways to fit in. Mal’s got Ben, you’ve got Dude, Jay’s going to be the new sports captain, and for all I know Evie’s going to be the new fashion sensation.”

Carlos keeps shaking his head and when he lifts his gaze to mine I see him tearing up.

“Mal’s listening to her heart. If she can, why can’t you? You deserve a happy ending too, Magica. Please? I want to be with you.”

Carlos’ sweet words fill me with joy, but it slowly melts away when I remember how disappointing life can be. I know Carlos is my true love, the only one I’m ever meant to find.

“I want to listen to my heart too… But I’ve learned that always thinking with your heart means you’re vulnerable to be broken. You can choose the good life, Carlos. But I’m still not the same person I was yesterday. Love always comes at a cost, and I’m tired of being in debt.”

“I could go with you-!”

“No.” I pull him in for a hug and Carlos clings to me as if I’ll disappear. “You’ve made a good life for yourself here, Carlos. I couldn’t spoil that for you.”

“You wouldn’t! Why would you think that?”

I bite my lip. “If people saw me with you, they’d think you were strange too. I draw a pretty angry crowd. Just please, please know I’m doing this because I love you. It may seem confusing now, but in time you’ll learn to know I’m right.”

The empathy link tells me that Carlos reluctantly agrees, and he lets out a deep sigh as I take his hand and start leading him down the hall.

“Come on. Let’s go before I second guess everything. It's best for everyone. Oh, hold on a sec-” I take out my spellbook. “I need to change my hair back.”

Carlos just nods and seems to understand without me explaining why, though his downward gaze tells me he’s just as saddened as I am.

“Evie’s gonna be disappointed.”

I shrug. “She’ll live. It’s my hair, not hers. As much as I do like this shade it definitely draws too much attention. For now I’ll stick with blonde and maybe spell it again later.” I flip to the right page in the book and chant: “Erasing back from pink and floral, turn this hair back to normal.”

I snap my fingers and in the corner of my eye I see my blonde locks replace the pink. There. “How do I look?”

Carlos sighs and rubs the side of his hand down my face. “Normal.”

“Perfect.”

He tilts his head. “A bit too normal for my taste, but even if you were turned into a fish you’ll always be beautiful to me.” Carlos leans in to plant a gentle kiss on my cheek and in a split second I want to forget about ever wanting to leave. “I’m so sorry a wonderful, caring person like you has to go through all this.”

“I’ve gotten used to it. I think I’m ready to hide again. Bide my time until the world’s willing to see me as I am.”

By this time it’s dark out, allowing me to roam the school without too many witnesses. We descend the stairs and meet up with the others in the kitchen, where Tiffany is buzzing around like a chicken with its head cut off.

“You changed your hair?” Evie tries to contain her disapproval.

“Yes. It will help disguise me while I’m in hiding. I figured I’d go back to basics to try and find my own path. One less dark and stereotypical.”

Tiffany rushes up and unexpectedly shoves a big basket full of baked goods and other sweets into my arms. “Here, Magica. It’ll never be enough to make up for how bad we all treated you, but it’s all I could make in such short time.”

My jaw drops and I struggle to uplift the heavy basket. “Aw, Tiffany. You really didn’t have to-”

“I brought you something too,” Doug speaks up. He hands me a long cloth containing a number of vials. “Some potion ingredients from the chemistry lab. I figured they might not be the most exotic ones you might need, but it’s something-”

“It’s plenty enough, thank you so much Doug!” I balance Tiffany’s basket on my hip and use my other arm to wrap the book worm into a hug.

“I’m gonna miss my favorite study partner,” Doug frowns.

“I’ll miss you too, sugar!” Tiffany sighs.

“Goodbye, everyone. I hope to one day return and maybe learn to call you my friends. Until then, keep your wits sharp and your minds sharper.”

“You’ll always be our friend, Sparks.” Ben gives me one last hug. “My best friend.”

“Goodbye, trixie. I’ll keep pranking Chad in your honor.”

I smirk. “Thanks, Jay.”

Evie walks up and gets a closer look at my hair. “Still not a fan of blonde, but you pull it off well. I’ll miss you!” She squeezes me tight and it’s a wonder I can breathe. “Keep the clothes, I’ll try to send more once I’ve set up a designing business.”

“You’ll work wonders, Evie. The fashion world is about to be rocked off its feet.”

Mal’s next, and I’m surprised to see the next dragon queen seems a bit skittish. “I’m so sorry I pegged you for a goody-goody, and was mad because of the whole love potion thing.”

I just side-smile and wave it off. “Forget it. After all the drama you just had with your mom I’ll let it slide.”

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

“Somewhere where my talents will not be feared or criticized. I’ve heard the Enchanted Forest would make a suitable spot for now.”

Evie gasps. “But Magica… that place is almost as dark as the Isle of the Lost. Lots of evil, vicious magic lurks there-”

“Exactly. So if you ever need someone to cast any spells, you know where to find me. But from what I’ve seen from Mal-” I give her a wink. “I don’t think you’ll need any help.”

The only one who’s stayed quiet is Carlos. He follows me out to the front curve where Remus and Fairy Godmother are waiting. Before we reach them he pulls me aside and I can tell this is just as hard for him as it is for me.

“I didn’t want to say goodbye until you leave for good.”

“I know. Let’s just get through it nice and easy.” I offer a smile but we both know it’s fake.

“Magica! Magica!” FG waves at us. “I’ve set up the perfect spot for you! The Enchanted Forest is just a few miles north of here and has very few socializing habitants. It’s a little dark, but I figured you wouldn’t mind it. But we must hurry before daylight so no one notifies the Magic Committee.”

“And I’m here to drive you there!” Remus saluts.

I chuckle. “Really, Remus?”

“I’m the one who first brought you here, it’s only appropriate I’m the one to bust you out.”

After a silent, too-fast limo ride, we arrive at the edge of the Enchanted Forest. It almost looks like home, except a darker magic is seeping out from it. Nothing I can’t tame to serve my purposes. The thought of being alone again acts as both a comfort, and a loss.

“I’ll leave you guys to do the final chit-chats and wait here,” Remus calls from the front.

“Bye, Remus! I’ll miss you.”

“Right back at ya, Sanderson. Stay safe.”

Fairy Godmother and Carlos are already waiting at the tree line, and I can feel the last few moments ticking away all too fast.

“I’m gonna have to get used to being by myself again. All I’m going to have to talk to is Binx.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve already sent your belongings and your feline friends to the cottage you’ll be staying in.” Fairy Godmother gives me a final hug. “Goodbye, dear. Good luck.”

“Thank you, headmistress. I promise my powers will have grown by the time I see you again.”

Fairy Godmother walks back to the limo, which just leaves Carlos to say my last goodbye to. I look between him and the awaiting forest, knowing he too feels just as conflicted as I am. We stay quiet for the moment, holding each other like nothing else matters.

Carlos’ POV

Just when I thought my life was starting to turn up… Fate must hate me, because it’s taking away the nicest person I know and making her hide in the woods just because she’s a witch.

“I’m really going to miss you, Enchantress,” I whisper. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

The blonde witch nods. “I’m positive. I’ll never forget you. ‘Behold, you art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves eyes. A little something from Song of Solomon 1:15 to remember me by.”

Her words bring a smile to my face and I have to chuckle. “Oh I’d never be able to forget you, Enchantress. You get into too much trouble. Dude’s going to miss you too.”

We both laugh one last time before I lean in to give her one last kiss, sweet and dire.

Magica’s POV

Carlos brings my hand to his lips. “I’ll be here for you when you decide to come back.”

I grunt. “How do you know I’ll be able to without being cast out again?”

Wrapping my cloak around me, I reluctantly pull away and start walking towards the dark woods.

“I have hope,” Carlos calls from behind.

I look back and arch an eyebrow. “Hope can be deceitful.”

He shakes his head. “Not when true love is involved.”

His optimism is definitely a trait to admire. I give one final wave as I watch Carlos climb into the limo and see it drive away, leaving me alone once again. But it’s for everyone’s own good. I continue walking deeper into the trees, and soon hear:

“Good to see you, Magica. I was hoping you’d show up soon.” Binx slinks out from under a bush and hops up onto a tree stump. “Welcome to the Enchanted Forest: dark, dreary, and isolated. Ready to get to work?”

I put a determined look on my face and start to follow the yellow-eyed feline to my new home.

Now off I go, off to grow my powers and build a life for myself. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to come home to my own happily ever after.

#carlos de vil x reader #carlos de vil #descendants carlos #evie descendants #mal descendants #jay descendants #disney descendants #descendants #disney #ben descendants #audrey descendants #uma descendants #harry hook descendants #doug descendants #binx hocus pocus #hocus pocus #winifred sanderson #sarah sanderson #mary sanderson

6 notes · View notes

hahahahahangst · 1 year

Text

Irene (Be The Young 20)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Irene

Irene the future I wanted to gift you I had to exchange it for the vinyls I keep in the attic I’ll gift them to you when you’ll be out of hope and you’ll feel defeated

They had been hunting a Djinn. Emily made a wrong move and the last thing she had seen before waking up in a different place was a bright blue light. When she opened her eyes, she was in a familiar place. A baby cried in the background.

Not any baby.

Alex.

Emily’s eyes shot open. She was home. Her actual home. In Portland.

And Alex was crying. He was alive.

Maybe it had all been a nightmare.

Maybe it was finally over?

She ran out of the room and inside Alex’s room. He was there, crying. She had wished to hear it once more many times. She took him out of his crib and rocked him a bit.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” She said, caressing his head and trying her best not to cry.

“Is he hungry again?” Asked a familiar voice behind her. When she turned, Dean came into the nursery. She stared at him, suddenly brought back to reality.

It wasn’t over. She was hallucinating. None of it was real.

“Your mom will be back in a couple of hours, but I think dad mentioned she pumped some milk before she left.” Smiled Dean. “Are you okay? You seem sad.”

“Yeah- No, I’m fine. Thanks Dean.” She hesitated, admiring his calm and his stress free state, something she had rarely seen in Dean before. He seemed way younger than he looked in real life, more relaxed, more happy. He smiled back and left. Emily went down the stairs and reached the kitchen. She had not seen that place in so long it felt like forever. Everything was exactly like she remembered it. The fridge was still covered in the silly magnets her mother brought back from everywhere they went, the wall still had all her childhood drawings on it.

Next to the front door, her school backpack was flopping on itself, half empty. The living room still had the signs of a movie night.

Emily put Alex down in his high chair and opened the fridge. Her mom had baked her some carrot cake and next to it, apple pie. She found some pumped milk in the back of the fridge and fed it to Alex, with a gesture so familiar, yet so distant. She quickly started crying. It felt good. Too good. But it wasn’t true. She knew she had to leave and yet, she didn’t want to.

If she stayed too long, her body was going to die, but being able to live in her own house, holding her brother again, feeding him like that again… Maybe it was worth letting her body die to experience all of it once again. Alex happily drank his milk and the front door opened.

“Mom’s back!” Emily quickly dried her face from her tears and ran to her mother at the door. She hugged her. “Woah! What’s with all the love, honey?” Asked her mother, hugging her back.

“I love you mom.” Answered Emily, unable to let her go. “I missed you.”

“I was just out for the day, Emily, are you okay?” Her mother checked her whole figure, trying to find out if she was hurt or if there was something wrong. Emily enjoyed the warmth of having a parent again for two seconds. Dean also arrived in the entryway.

“Girls, I’m gonna go see Sam today, will I see you after dinner?” He showed them the car keys, indicating he was about to leave.

“Sam?” Repeated Emily, smiling. “Can I come with you?”

“Really?” Asked Dean. “I think dad will be there.”

”...and?” Emily already had one arm in her jacket. “Why wouldn’t I want to come?”

“Well, you.. and dad, you were never exactly in good terms. It’s the first time you ask me to come along.”

“Me? Not wanting to see Sam? I highly doubt it.” Smiled Emily, closing her jacket. “Come on, let’s go.” Dean, clearly confused, exchanged a weird look with Emily’s mother and then left. Emily followed him, expecting to sit in the Impala.

Instead, Dean unlocked a family van.

“Wait, you drive this?” She asked, confused.

“We all do, dumbass. Come on, visiting time doesn’t last all night.” He said, turning on the engine and looking at Emily entering the vehicle, impatient.

“Visiting time?” Repeated Emily, progressively putting pieces together.

Dean exhaled. “Emily, are you high again?” He questioned, disappointed.

“What? No, I’m-” Dean entered a street that Emily knew very well: it brought to the hospital.

Visiting time doesn’t last all night.

“Dean, why is Sam in the hospital?” Her eyes filled with tears again.

”...so you are high- Emily, there was a car crash, remember? You drove into a tree.”

Emily inclined her head, not understanding, and kept looking at him, waiting for an explanation. “Emily, I thought you were finally sober.”

“Dean, I-”

“Nevermind, you never change. You just traded alcohol for weed.” He got out of the car, leaving her behind. Emily followed him.

“Wait! Really, I’m not high or… drunk, Dean, listen!” She caught up to him in the hospital lobby. “I was captured by a Djinn, I’m stuck in this hallucination!”

”...a what?!” Dean rolled his eyes and entered the elevator. “Whatever you smoked, kid, it’s not the good stuff.”

“Dean, I’m not high! I’m on the job!”

“Sure you are.” Dean left the elevator shaking his head. Emily kept following him until he entered one of the rooms.

Sam was lying on the hospital bed, perfectly still. He didn't have as many machines as Dean had when he almost died. He was there, the monitor beeping rhythmically, slowly, almost peacefully, keeping him alive.

Sitting next to his bed was John. Emily looked at him and smiled, but he didn't smile back.

“What is she doing here?!” He asked instead, angry.

“Dad, now's not the time. She just wanted to see Sam.”

“She's the reason he's here! She's a fucking drunk and she killed my son!”

Emily, shocked, took a step back, bumping into a table. “Wait, is… is this my fault?” She asked.

“Of course it is, you-”

“DAD!” Interrupted Dean. “I don't think she remembers any of it at the moment.”

“Are you telling me she's drunk again?”

“I'm not drunk, listen!” Emily pleaded. “This is not real, it's created by-” Emily looked at Dean and John. They didn’t know what a Djinn was. They weren’t hunters. John shot out of his chair, aggressive, but Dean was quicker and he accompanied Emily outside of the small room. He took her face into his hands. Emily closed her eyes and started crying. It was probably the most affection she had felt from Dean since they had met.

“Kid, listen, I know the crash was- it was the worst thing at the worst moment, but… You can't slip into it again. Think about how much it took you to stop drinking- don't make us go through all of that again.” Of all the things Emily wanted to ask, she chose to say nothing. She could have asked if Sam was really there because of her, if they had ever been happy, but she chose to enjoy the hug Dean was offering and cried. “It's okay, kid. I'm sorry. I should not have brought you here.” She felt his lips on her hair and then Dean's chin, resting on her head. Emily knew she had to leave the hallucination. If it felt extremely good to have her mom Alex back for a little, there was another side to the coin and it was a very painful one.

All she could think about was Sam’s lifeless body, her father’s voice repeating over and over how it was her fault.

When they arrived back home, Emily went directly to Alex and her mother, who where still in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Emily stopped her mother from doing the dishes.

“Don’t worry, I got them.” She kissed her. Her mother seemed surprised and went to take care of Alex. As she did the dishes, she tried not to think of any of the bad things. To just tap in her old life, where she didn’t know the Winchesters, when everything was easy, when everything was always clouded by the familiarity of being safe, at home. It didn’t come too difficult, despite Dean sitting in the living room watching a soap opera felt a little out of context.

After doing the dishes, she insisted she took everyone out to get ice cream.

“Emily, what is going on with you today?” Asked Dean as he sat next to her in the van.

“I guess… I’m just grateful for what I have left.”

”....alright? Are you sure you should be driving?”

Emily raised an eyebrow and looked at her mother, who was sitting behind them. She looked worried. “Of course, uh- I’ll be shotgun.” Emily rolled her eyes and went out and around the car, leaving the driver’s seat to Dean.

They calmly drove to the Portland mall. Emily took Alex’s stroller and pushed him around for the whole night, occasionally making faces at him to make him laugh. She got her mom ice cream and insisted on getting Dean some apple pie with an ice cream scoop, which they ate while sitting on a bench. “Is it good?” She asked, stealing a piece of cake from Dean’s plate.

“Very good. Thanks kid.”

“Ah-” Exhaled Emily, slouching back on the bench to take in her surroundings. “I really wish I could stay here forever.”

“Why, where are you going?” Asked her mother, confused.

“Mom, do you know… how if you are about to die in a dream, you wake up?” She asked. Dean and her mother assumed a more worried expression.

”...I guess, yeah. Why are you asking?”

“No reason.”

She could not wait any longer. She spent the rest of the night playing with Alex and having a good time with her mother and the most caring, loving version of Dean she would probably ever encounter, knowing that it was going to be her last night. She wasn’t sure it was going to work, but there were two choices: she died in the dream and woke up alive in the real world, where Dean was an asshole and Sam was alive, while everyone else was dead, or she survived in the dream and died soon after in real life, ending the dream. She went home and kissed everyone good night. She entered her room and locked the door behind her.

She knew exactly what to do. She had to die. And if she knew herself, she probably had something to do it, right in her room, and that something would have been razor blades, well hidden in the same double bottom she used to hide cigarettes in.

“Bingo“ she whispered as she extracted a pack of blades. The second she actually felt the cold metal on her skin, she started doubting her plan.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe the time passed slower in the dream, and she could have been there forever. Grow old and see Alex learn how to read, defend him from bullies, drive him to college. Maybe she could have stayed and she could have had a happy life, even if it was a fake one. Even if she only had ten days left in the hallucination, ten days are better than no days. She moved the blade away from her arm and put it on her desk. On it, she saw an open book, with a highlighted quote. We live alone, We die alone. Everything else is just an illusion.

Right. An illusion. She wasn’t living, not really. Her body was most likely tied up somewhere and the djinn was using it to have a thanksgiving feast. The people she loved were really dead. Her house had really burnt down. And Sam and Dean were waiting for her on the other side, the only one that mattered, as painful as it was.

She took the blade in her hands again and pressed it on her forearm. She traced a long, vertical line. She was weirdly calm as the blood started flowing out, surprisingly painlessly. As she did the same on her other arm, someone knocked on her door.

“Emily, open the door!” Said Dean’s voice. She closed her eyes and prayed he wouldn’t have a key. That he wouldn’t enter, not at that moment. It didn’t take long for her vision to get blurry, her pressure becoming lower and lower as she felt her body become heavier and heavier. She fell on her side and saw the blurry shape of Dean entering the door and running towards her. The last thing she felt was Dean’s warm hands on her face, then, everything started to re-focus on Dean, who was actually trying to get her to wake up. She grunted, in pain, as she realized the pain she felt in her wrists were actually the ropes she was hanging from. Dean’s face became more focused as he kept calling her. “Emily! Come on, wake up!”

“Oh god- where’s the djinn?” She opened her eyes.

“Took care of it. Dude, we thought we lost you for a second.” Said Dean, trying to set her free.

“Oh my god, you know what a djinn is… It worked-” She fell to the ground. Sam appeared in front of her as she sat back up. When she saw him, she stood up and jumped to hug him.

“Woah, okay- Missed me or something?”

“Of course I missed you.”

#am i going insane #yes probably #but anyway #supernatural fic #supernatural season 2 #djin #sister winchester fanfic #TW #be the young #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural angst #supernatural sister fic #spn #spn fanfic #ao3 #supernatural a03 fanfict #sister fic

6 notes · View notes

hungry-tum-stuff · 2 years

Text

Meet Jonah!

Jonah is the town baker and Lumen’s closest friend of about two years (Although in my last piece of writing they’ve only known each other for about a month.) He’s a widower and single father of one daughter, Mallory. He’s raised her on his own ever since his wife disappeared five years ago.

He considers himself very fortunate, considering he owns and runs the bakery on his own and makes a good amount of money to support both himself and his daughter in living a comfortable life. And as someone who grew up with very little, he believes he should share his good fortune by helping out those in need in the community by giving out leftover stock.

There are some fun facts about Jonah in the little drawing up above, but as for things I didn’t include up there…

Because Jonah spends all day in the bakery working with dough and massive batches of baked goods, he’s very strong! He’s got arms made for kneading dough, and his body type stands in stark contrast to Lumen’s, seeing as he’s shorter than them and somewhat stout.

Jonah very much has an “Italian grandmother” approach to food: Food is the centerpiece and he will spend all day working to feed his family, and if someone is in need of a good meal he will drop everything and start cooking, but at the end of the day he’s rather selfless. When it comes to his daughter especially, he’ll always make sure she eats her fill before he does.

Jonah often comes across as tired and work-worn from how busy he keeps himself: It is entirely his fault because he sets his own hours and chooses to make deliveries to other townsfolk, but he knows the work wouldn’t be as rewarding if he didn’t feel the weight of it every day. He likes what he does, and in the very least he knows he’s helping people.

Jonah also isn’t the friendliest person upon first meeting him: He comes across as a bit distant and unlike Lumen he’s very to-the-point about everything, and it’s nearly impossible to get him to talk about anything going on in his personal life aside from his daughter, (who he will shamelessly brag about.) At heart though Jonah is a nurturer, he wants the people he cares about to be safe and happy, and he’s willing to make sacrifices to make sure that happens.

Jonah does fall into the trap of being overprotective at times. Ever since his wife went missing he’s become almost paranoid that the same thing will happen to Mallory, or even Lumen once he started considering them a part of his family. And as a family and community-oriented person, being left alone or unable to help someone is Jonah’s worst nightmare. He thinks he knows what’s best to keep people safe, so when things go wrong he tends to lose his cool a bit.

That’s all for now, I’m gonna write a longer post strictly about Lumen and Jonah’s tummies (because that’s what this blog is kinda about lmao) so for now enjoy the new boy and stay tuned for more tum content!

#sfw hunger kink #tummy kink #stomach growling #hungry #tummy #hunger kink #ocs #my art

8 notes · View notes

ladymarycrawley · 2 years

Text

I know you too well - Mason Mount

Request: Can you write one with mason where your boy (4 years old) asked you to call his daddy because he misses him and wants to talk to him and then when you’re at the phone he asked you if you can let him talk to his daddy on his own, he tells Mason that you’re not feeling very well but at the end you’re pregnant

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover

The days where Mason was forced to stay away from you because of his hectic working schedule were the worst ever. Especially lately, since you had been feeling particularly tired due to your working shifts and taking care of your 4 year old son, Y/S/N. He was the light of your life, always bringing the most happy smiles to your face, exactly like his dad.

He also inherited his father’s energy and love for football so sometimes it became quite stressful keeping up with him: in the morning you would drop him at the nursery, then, when you didn’t have papers to fill out or chores to do, you did play with him until it became time to prepare something to eat for dinner.

You thought work and your full time job as a mum were the things to blame for your particularly tired state.

“Mummyyyy” Y/S/N came running to you, who were trying to rest a bit before doing the laundry.

“Yes, baby?”

“When will daddy come back?” He was such a daddy’s boy, if it were up to him he would have followed him everywhere.

“A couple of days, sweetheart. Do you miss him?”

Your boy put on a sad pout, nodding to your question.

A sad smile appeared on your face, as it made you so miserable seeing one of the two boys of your life like that.

“Come here” You took him in your arms to place him in your lap. You cuddled him in your arms, placing sweet kisses on his head and looking at his face, a perfect mix of yours and Mason’s best features.

“We could call him so you could tell him about your day at school while eating the chocolate cookies mummy baked just for you. What do you think?”

Your words put him in a better mood, as he nodded with a happy smile this time, making you smile too.

You grabbed your phone from the armrest of the sofa you were sitting on and searched for Mason’s number to dial on Facetime. You placed another kiss to your giggling baby before setting the phone on the cafe table before you so you could hold your son on your lap.

“Hey daddy!”

“My favourite people ever! How are you?” Mason’s beaming smile welcomed you. He was resting on his bed, his right arm holding his head against the headboard.

“We’re fine, what about you?” You answered, looking at your son then to his father.

“Daddy I miss you” Y/S/N confessed in a soft voice, fiddling with the drawstring of his grey sweatpants, matching with the one Mason got.

You let out a soft laugh as you pressed a kiss to his soft cheek.

“I miss you too bud but I’ll be back on friday, I promise!”

“We did a lot of drawings at school today and the teacher said mine were the best in the class!”

“Really?? I can’t wait to see them, I’m so proud of you!”

Your son’s features light up at his dad’s words, he was literally his everything, he was his hero and the fact that all his classmates would have him as their idol made his love for his parent grow even more.

“Go and grab that beautiful drawing you did of your grannies, I’m sure daddy will love it!”

“Hey”

Y/S/N jumped down from your lap and ran towards his room to take it, making you and Mason laugh out loud.

It was also a way to let you two have a little moment of intimacy.

“Hey”

“I miss you like crazy”

“Are you alright? Why are you admitting you miss me?”

You rolled your eyes at his tease. He knew expressing your feelings wasn’t the thing you’d like to do the most but it was all the tiredness and weird things you had been feeling during that period that made you spill the truth to him.

“Because I love you and living without can be kinda hard sometimes…”

Mason let out a giggle, while grazing his lower lip with his thumb.

“I can’t believe you're saying these things…”

You blushed and looked away. “Mase, please”

“What? I’m happy to hear that and you know I miss you too!”

You smiled and looked intensely into his eyes: you didn’t need to share a lot of words to express your true feelings to each other, the glances you woud exchange were meaningful enough.

Y/S/N came running back in the living room as he covered the whole phone screen with the paper he drew on.

“This is nana, here’s uncle Lewis and here’s grandpa. Tomorrow I’ll do one with Summer and auntie Jaz!”

“That’s beautiful, love. Send them a pic of it, they’ll love it”

“Mummy, can I please talk to dad while eating my cookies?”

“Your cookies?? Hey little man, what do you mean? Those are supposed to be MY cookies!”

“No! Mummy made them for me!” He laughed, amused by his dad’s tease.

“So you and mummy made my chocolate chips cookies without me??”

“Yes and I’m eating all of them!” He confirmed proudly.

Mason pouted, pretending to be bothered by all the cookie drama enhancing louder laughters from his child.

“Come on, go in the kitchen, I’ll set the phone on the table and prepare your snack. No more than three cookies Y/S/N, ok?”

He nodded, looking at you with his big brown eyes.

Once he was seated, eating his cookies and talking to his dad you went upstairs to do the laundry.

“Ok, I’ll leave you two here. I’ll call you later tonight, ok?”

“I’ll have to plan my revenge then I’ll see if I have some time left to talk to you”

You left a kiss on your son’s head before glaring towards your boyfriend.

“I’ve better things to do than hearing you talking nonsense, silly”

“You love my nonsense”

“Bye Mase!”

“Ok, we’re finally alone, man”

“Is uncle Ben with you, daddy?”

“He’s at the physio right now but I’ll make sure he talks to you tomorrow…hey, how’s mum doing? Are you taking care of her as you promised me?”

Your weird state didn’t go unnoticed to Mason: he saw your tired expression and sensed your annoyed voice, even though you’re saying him sweet things.

“Yes daddy! I’m doing it! But…”

“But?”

“Sometimes she’s a bit off…and yesterday I heard her crying in the bathroom”

“What?”

“She told me she missed you”

Mason was perfectly aware that it wasn’t the true reason behind your demeanor but it saddened him that he wasn’t there to take care of you and, most of all, that your kid was facing all of it alone.

“And this morning she did something really bad!”

“What was that, baby?”

“She ate ice cream for breakfast! And when I asked her if I could have it too she said I couldn’t!”

Mason couldn’t help but burst out laughing: it was perfectly clear to him that you’re pregnant but you wouldn’t spoil the surprise to your baby boy.

“Y/S/N can you put mummy on the phone for me, please?”

“Ok! I love you daddy!”

Mason’s eyes suddenly became watery and he cleared his voice, trying not to cry in front of his son.

“I love you too, little man”

“Mummyyyy

“What?”

“Daddy wants to talk to you”

You huffed, taking your phone back in your hands.

“Mason, I told you I have a lot of things to do. I’d have -”

“Are you pregnant?”

You widened your eyes at his brutal question: it was incredible how well he knew you, even being far away he perfectly noted your behaviour and connected all the dots.

“I don't know it yet to be honest… I was about to take the test” You grabbed the little paper box on the counter and showed it to him.

“Take it now, please. I’ll be here if you need me”

“No baby” You laughed “I’ll call you back as soon as I have the result, ok?”

“Ok, I love you”

“I love you more”

The call ended for you to take your time and see what the test will tell you. In case it was positive you’d really hope to have a baby girl…just the thought of Mason cradling your daughter in his arms made your stomach flutter.

You decided to tell to your boyfriend shooting a selfie of you holding the plastic stick and smiling “Baby Mount on the way ❤️”

You took a deep breath as your timer went off, meaning it was time to check your test.

It didn’t come as a surprise when you saw the positive result on it, your symptoms were too clear to state a fake pregnancy.

Needless to say he called you back two seconds later, as soon as he saw your pic.

“I knew it!! I’m so happy! Fuck, I’m not there with you”

“Hey baby don’t worry. Three days will pass by so fast and we’ll all be together again. We’ll tell Y/S/N when you’ll be back, ok?”

“Tell me what?”

“Sweetheart, you scared me!”

“Sorry, mum”

“We have to tell you that we love you so so much and that daddy we’ll take you to the next training session” Mason said, trying to distract him, giving him the best news he ever received.

“Really?? Thanks daddy!! I love you!!!”

You both laughed. He was quite brilliant when it came to surprises and making up thing in order to hide them.

“I have to go now, I’ll call you before going to bed, ok?”

“Fine, Mase. Try not to worry too much”

“I’m not worried!” You didn’t believe a word he’s saying, as he’s always been so careful with your pregnancy it became rather annoying sometimes.

“You think you know me but I know you kinda well too!”

“Ok, fine…but be ready for when I’ll be back home: I want my chocolate chips cookies and something sweeter…”

“BYE MASE”

You hung up laughing at his teasing.

You couldn’t wait until Friday to have him in your arms once again.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount fics #mason mount fluff #dad! mason #mason mount imagines #chelsea #chelsea imagines #chelsea fics #england nt #england nt imagines #england nt fics #premier league #premier league imagines #football imagines #football fics #football writing

677 notes · View notes

artemiseamoon · 2 years

Text

Our Lonely Hearts 3

Steven Grant x f reader /nickname Cat | ft. Marc Spector

Previous || next || fic info

Words: 2,811

⚠️warnings: moments of confusion, no outward mentions of it, but DID, mentions of injury

An: Aside from past lives being one of my fav tropes ever, there is this super fascinating thing called simultaneous past lives, where a soul can be in many bodies at once/ more than one body. So it is completely possible to have a dual past life that may line up timeline wise or be connected to the same location or time in history. This has always fascinated me and is part of this story.

AN: Two for one this week! We are back to the weekly schedule next week. Watch out for the ETA for chapter 4 mid week.

You must have checked the recipe a dozen times, making sure everything you got from the market was vegan. You were nervous.

Officially, you've never made a meal for someone but you wanted to do something special for Steven. Besides, there are only so many wraps and sandwiches a person could eat, you were happy to attempt feeding him a decent homemade meal.

You've noticed before he didn't have a full fridge and after talking on the phone yesterday, this idea came to you. If anyone deserved it, it was him and Steven happily accepted the invite.

After scrolling through what felt like dozens of recipes, you settled on Vegan Ravioli, thankfully you were able to find everything at the market, trying to make this from scratch would surely have been a disaster. You make a large salad and bake some vegan cookies for dessert, completing the night's menu.

In the back of your mind, you kept wondering if this could be considered a date, or if such a thought was too forward of you. You didn’t exactly say ‘date’ on the phone, just invited him over but you were holding regularly now, and having movie nights so maybe...just maybe...

One thing was for sure, you had first date jitters and changed your outfit 5 times. Nothing you owned seemed right or felt too much like a date outfit. You finally settled on something casual, your favorite jeans and shirt combo.

Just as everything is done and you set the table, Steven arrives. You buzz him in and a short while later he knocks on your door. When you open it, he’s wearing a smile and holding flowers.

He greets you and draws you into a hug. Steven gave the best hugs, the kind you never wanted to leave. It was so easy to melt into him and hold him tight. After greeting each other, you welcome him inside.

As you close and lock the door, he looks around, “it smells great in here.”

“Thank you.”

He notices your outfit and then glances down at himself, “I feel like a knob. I’m overdressed.”

He looked so handsome, dressed in a nice black shirt, slacks and shoes. You were certainly underdressed; maybe this was a date.

“Oh sorry, I wasn't sure what to wear," you say quickly, " please sit, make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. It will only take a moment.”

You flash a smile and head back to your room. Once inside, you close the door and rummage through the pile on the bed. You pull out the simple dress you did try on previously. It was in your favorite color and would be the perfect complement to what Steven is wearing.

When you come back out, he’s sitting on the couch still holding the flowers. He looks nervous, it’s the cutest thing. When he sees you, his eyes light up,

“Wow. You look very nice.“

“Aww, “ you shrug, “ thank you, you look handsome. Come, let’s eat.”

Steven stands, you take the flowers from him and put them in a vase.

The nervous jitters still have a hold on you as well, but once you sit and start to eat both of you relax. You fall into a natural conversation about both your days, Steven compliments the food, much to your relief.

Steven helps you clear the table after dinner as you put the cookies there with some tea. You notice he’s doing that thing, where he wants to say something but doesn't. You try to make it easier and help him out.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask softly, placing the plate of cookies on the table.

“I was just wondering - is this a date?” He has the most innocent look in his eyes. You want to kiss him on the spot.

Grinning, you walk over to him and take one of his hands in yours, “it would be really cool if this was a date. I’d like that.”

He raises his brow. This almost feels too good to be true.

“Yes. Really.” You confirm, excitement stirring in the pit of your stomach.

Overjoyed, Steven laughs and moves closer to you. “Oh, that's great! It’s a date then!"

You nod and plant a kiss on his left cheek. Steven watches you with soft eyes. If there was any doubt left in you that the feeling wasn't mutual, you knew for sure now he was smitten with you as you were him.

Over dessert, the two of you continue to talk. Steven brings up the phone and storage locker key he found in his flat. You offer to go with him when he feels ready to check it out. He has museum shifts the next two days but considers going on his day off.

Soon the conversation shifts to all the questions he has. The missing time, Marc, Arthur, Khoshu. Though you didn't have the answers, you can tell it's comforting for him to speak to you, to have support as he tries to figure this all out.

You haven’t told him about the tall bird-like figure in your dream yet, you didn’t want to add any more stress on his plate. But once he describes what he saw that night in his building, it clicks, you saw the same thing in your dream.

The news does worry him, but you continue to talk it out and try to piece it together. If you were dreaming of what he was seeing, it had to mean something, it was connected somehow. Why would Khoshu appear in your dream? Was it a warning?

After a while, Steven asks you about your favorite show and the two of you move into the living room. Getting comfortable on the couch, you settle in, excited to share this with him. Since you both love Mythology, you hoped Steven would love this show too.

Midway through the second episode, you feel a little cold and Steven quickly notices. He unfolds the blanket on the side table and places it delicately over your shoulders, the two of you gazing into each other's eyes as he does.

“There, nice and warm.”

Steven caresses your shoulder before settling back in place. You lean into him, and he rests his arm across your shoulders. Blissfully content, you continue to watch the show together.

Soon, tiredness strikes. You struggle to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want this night to end, and tried to stay awake as long as you could. But somewhere between episodes 3 and 4, as the two of you cuddle on the couch, you slip into the land of dreams.

…

🎶🎶

The air in the room is alive, electric. You walk closer to the statue, continuing to rhythmically shake the sistrums in your hands as you approach. You feel her presence, you feel her love, you feel her power.

“To Sekhmet who is great of power, I offer my praise, O fierce-hearted lioness, great Eye of Ra, beloved of Ptah…” You continue your prayer, feeling yourself elevate to higher and higher levels of spiritual elevation...

After the ritual, you make your way up the steps. Feeling pulled by a force, you find your way to a balcony. It’s night now, the sky illuminated by a crescent moon.

As you look down at yourself, your appearance is different than before, though you were on the same lands. Your fingers, your adornments, your dress; this form is unfamiliar.

Called to the moon, you look up, gazing at it. The footsteps behind you come closer until someone stands beside you. When you look over at him, you can’t see his face. It’s hidden, blurred.

His hair is covered with the traditional headdress of the Pharaoh's warriors. In his left hand, he holds a spear, a shield in his right. His skin is brown, tan, with golden hues just like the man before.

As you observe him closer, you realize it’s not the same man, but a different one. Around his neck, he wore a special symbol, an amulet given to only the greatest of the Pharaoh's defenders.

He sets the shield aside and reaches for your hand, taking it into his own. A feeling of relief mixed with sadness fills you, this touch igniting a storm of emotions as they swell up from your gut and reach your chest. You feel a sense of relief…he’s returned, he’s come home…

As you and the man start to speak, your surroundings suddenly change. You find yourself inside of a great hall, just ahead is a pool accented with trees. You notice a figure seated and writing on papyrus. You glance down at your body, this form is familiar, it's the one you've always known in your dreams.

A feeling of happiness, of love blossoms through you as you watch the seated figure, you know him, you know this place; it’s the man from the first dream, the one who walked by your side and protected you.

You pass others as they enjoy the pool and make your way to him. As you approach, he stops what he’s doing and looks up at you. You can’t see his face, not clearly, it's blinded by the sun. Though you can't see it, it feels like he’s smiling…

...

A sudden sense of urgency fills you, taking hold and pulling you out of the dream. When you open your eyes, you find yourself alone on the couch, and a few steps away Steven is heading for the door.

Rubbing your eyes, you jump off the couch and walk over to him, “I’m sorry, I didn't realize I was tired - “ you stop cold. Something is off.

He slowly turns to look at you and something about him is…different. Adjusting your eyes, you take one more step closer, studying him.

“Steven?”

Despite the stone expression on his face, you see a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something familiar, something old. But it doesn't last long, it vanishes and is replaced by a cold stare. His brown eyes, Steven’s eyes, are completely different,

He clenches his jaw, his eyes still burning into yours, “you should have stayed asleep.”

Even his tone is off. He didn’t sound like Steven and the accent was completely gone. He starts to turn away again until his eyes catch the pendant around your neck. He stops and stares at it.

“Steven what’s-” he takes a step closer to you, a warning look in his eyes,

“Cat, go back to sleep. Forget about this.”

Just as you start to ask another question it hits you like a ton of bricks, you take in a sharp breath, “oh god. You’re not Steven!”

The way he slowly shakes his head in response is chilling, his eyes now scanning your face.

“....M-Marc?” You can feel a lump forming in your throat.

He narrows his eyes at you, his brows tense. For a fleeting second, it seems like he’s going to say something else. Instead, he turns his back to you and heads for the door.

Trying to calm the panic rising in you, you think of Steven and quickly run past Marc and cover the door with your body, blocking the lock and handle.

Marc grunts in frustration, “get out of my way.”

You maintain eye contact, standing your ground, “No. I can’t let you leave!”

Marc scoffs and looks away from you. He rests his hand on his hips, and you notice how different his posture is from Stevens.

A weird silence falls between the both of you. Your mind feels like it's working overtime trying to make sense of this and adjust to the fact that you were now dealing with Marc.

“This is what you’re going to do,” Marc’s dark eyes land on yours again, he raises his hand to point at you, then the couch, “you’re going to lay down and go back to sleep. I will not repeat myself.”

His warning and tone sent a chill down your spine but you had to protect Steven. Who knows what Marc had planned for him tonight, you couldn’t let him walk out that door without making an effort.

When you don’t move, Marc shifts his weight and firmly plants his hands on his hips. He closes his eyes, “Get out of my way.”

“No.”

Before you could blink or take another breath, Marc took hold of you, grabbing you by the waist. He picks you up, moving you away from the door. The moment his hands touch you, the energy in the room shifts, and memories flash before your eyes...

The crescent moon

The balcony

The warrior

The warrior's eyes

Marc lets you go with a jolt, his eyes wide. He shakes his head like he’s trying to release what he saw. Your pulse is racing even faster now, and you search his eyes for answers. Something’s changed in the way he’s looking at you.

Marc takes another step back, closer to the door. His face is still tense, you can feel words lingering on his lips, words he’s not sure if wants to say.

You feel frozen in place, unable to move closer or block the door again. Marc opens the door, pauses in the doorway, and glares back at you.

“You… you shouldn't be here.”

He closes the door behind him with those words, and it's like all the air in the room leaves with him.

When you finally feel able to move again, you rush into the hallway and down the stairs. When you reach the outside, it's a ghost town, not a person in sight, including Marc.

….

You couldn’t sleep that night, not after everything that happened. Any attempts to get a hold of Marc, or Steven, fell short.

With each passing hour, the guilt builds up inside of you, maybe you could have done more? But Marc was strong and had no issue moving you out of the way while being strangely gentle about it at the same time.

It’s not until later that morning that you reach him. Running on a second cup of coffee and anxiety, you show up at his apartment.

Steven opens the door looking exhausted but happy to see you, he wastes no time pulling you into a warm hug. “Cat!” He beams.

As you step inside, you try to find your words. It seemed silly asking if he remembered, you know he didn’t.

“I had another one of those dreams, it was mad…” He heads to the kitchen, “ would you like some tea? I’ll make you some. Last night was great, lovely-”

“Steven,” your somber tone causes him to stop and focus his attention on you, “I know you were wondering if…M-marc, is real…”

He walks over to you and grabs your hand, rubbing the back of it. You can see the concern in his soft puppy dog eyes.

“Last night…we both fell asleep and - ” you know what you want to say but the words are having a hard time meeting your lips, “I saw him. Marc is real.”

Stevens' expression changes, his lips slightly parted as he processes your words. He’d been questioning his sanity over and over again, wondering if he made Marc up.

“I’m so sorry. I should have stayed awake. I tried to keep him inside, I did - ”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steven holds your face, gazing into your eyes, “ it’s not your fault. Come here.” He holds you against him, and you lock your arms tight around his body.

As you hold each other, the events of last night replay in your mind, the dreams playing in the background like a second screen. What did it all mean? Why did Marc look at you like that? What happened when he touched you? What did he mean by ‘you’ shouldn’t be here?

You try to calm your thoughts and focus on holding Steven. Just as you’re about to close your eyes, a Thoth figurine on the closest bookshelf catches your attention. Another series of images flashes in your mind's eye,

The pool

The seated scribe

The sunlight on his face

His hand in yours as you walked on the sand

You find yourself on the sand again, like before and this time he’s standing in front of you, your hands still interlaced. The bright sun starts to set, revealing more and more of his face as the golden rays pass. His dark curly hair, his forehead, his eyebrows, his eyes -

“Oh my god - “ you breathe as the vision becomes perfectly clear. Feeling back in your body, you tear your eyes away from the statue and lean back enough to look Steven in the face, his arms are still around you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He frees one of his hands to caress your cheek,” he didn’t…h-hurt you, did he?” You see a flash of worry and anger behind his gentle eyes at the thought.

“No, he didn’t. I um,” you look down, sorting your thoughts, “I’ll tell you all about it, it happened so fast he was just, out of the door in minutes but…” you re-establish eye contact, Steven’s hanging on your every word, “I think we knew each other before, Steven. And, I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think I knew him too.”

❤️ next

Tags? Ask and I’ll add you.

Fic tag list: @seasonschange-butpeopledont @charming-merlin @daddysfavoritesexkitten @endless-warrior-always-fighter @mylifeisactuallyamess @missingartist96 @giona45-5 @words-and-seeds @elliaze @anon1412 @mysticalfairytales @missdictatorme @princessxkenobi @bookloverfilmoholic @that-yn-girl @quesowakanda @nicepeony

Tags not working: can’t tag you: @h-teja @aloneatpeace

#Steven Grant #f reader #Steven x cat #Steven x f reader #moon Knight #marc spector #past lives #karmic relationships #past Steven x f reader #past Marc x f reader #fic: our lonely hearts #egyptian mythology

184 notes · View notes

pastelracha · 3 years

Text

Pregnancy with Felix

☾ Title : Pregnancy with Felix

☾ Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

☾ Genre: fluff, established relationship, pregnangcy

☾ Prompt: just a head canon of pregnancy with our Brownie boy.

☾ A/N: request : by @skzruletheworld,Can you do pregnancy with Felix :) don’t forget to give me your feed back guys xox

☾ Other : Chan’s version : ☾

☾ Word Count: 0.547K

masterlist | ask or request

Your pregnancy was the best thing in Felix’s life.

Always talking about how excited he is to finally going to have his own kid.

“Like they’re gonna be best friends, just like Chan and I’’ about your future child and Chan’s kid.

Painting the nursery in like light grey or a beige. And decided to decorate by himself to surprise you.

Also have the full SZKOO collection.

Already in love with this small and fragile life you guys created together.

Read stories to your belly every nights.

Went all soft when you called him on FaceTime to show him, your baby kicks.

Legit had tears in his eyes, cause he was working.

Took amazing pictures of your big belly during a walk at Han River, it’s his home screen since then.

Like to draws on your belly, like cloud, hearts, or even a face on it.

Just like Chan cried when you guys learned it was a baby boy.

Announced your pregnancy with “Is mini SKZ version a thing now ?’’

Have a photo of your first ultrasound in his wallet as a lucky charm.

Help you to shave your legs when your belly is too big for you to do so yourself.

Bake you cookies and brownies cause he gotta feed his kid.

Always has a hand on your bump, to protect his little one, to caress it, or just like that.

Look bad at people asking you if they can touch your bump. Protective mode : ON asf

Loving how you now live in his shirts cause it’s comfy.

Bought an oversized white teddy bear for the nursery.

Counting the days until he will meet his boy.

Ask advice to his parents, and chan about all this parenting things, sometimes worrying about being a good dad.

“ Like mate, you’re gonna be one of the best dad out there’’ Chan’s words

Cried the first time he heard the heartbeat.

Realized, yes he is really going to be a father.

Drop everything when you send a photo of your belly, or if you call him.

Always happy when Stays ask about his little one. “He is growing well, he is healthy and I can’t wait to see him’’

Is with you at every pregnancy classes thingy.

“Can you please go faster, my wife here is creating life so we don’t really have time’’ in Starbucks line, cause you are his first priority.

Tell you to go sit, he will order for both of you.

“Lix you know I’m not sick or made of glass, ‘I’m just pregnant’’

“And i want the best for my child, so go sit love please’’

Don’t fight him, you will loose! Will fight the all world for his kid.

Rub your belly at every chance he got, watching tv ? Felix will be rubbing your belly.

Have a list of thing he was to do with his child. (Baking, football, going to beach in Australia, going to the zoo, having father and son dates, ..)

And you’re like : chill he isn’t even born.

Extra uncles are back! Watch Changbin speaking his weird aegyo language to your belly, at bbq night. (And chan’s wife being like : it did to mine when I was pregnant too)

Just imagine Felix as a dad, my heart melt.

756 notes · View notes

baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

embrace

soulmate au where when you touch your soulmate you see glimpses of your future with them; the winter soldier touches you and realizes there’s so much more out there

series masterlist // previous // next

part three

word count: 2.3k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !!! here is the third installment for my soulmate au !! i think I’ll make one or two more parts and then end it ! let me know what you guys think i love reading your thoughts !! <3 (bonus points if u find all the parallels heh)

You didn’t hesitate throwing your arms around him, tears flowing down your cheeks as you held onto him tightly. Bucky held you just as tight, burrowing his face in your shoulder and a smile on his face.

Bucky felt home. He felt the way he imagined the smell of freshly baked cookies would feel, he felt warm and fuzzy. Bucky felt happy.

“i- where have you been what happened i thought- we all- oh my god steve he’s been going crazy and-” you rambled, a smile on your face. You looked at bucky, he was just as tall as your remembered, his eyes a bit brighter and you felt your heart flutter.

“oh come in!” You chuckled, pulling him by his metal arm into your home, a smile on your face as you led him to your living room.

“i never introduced myself” he spoke, eyes on the ground as you prepared two cups of hot chocolate. You looked at him, laughing lightly.

“guess you didn’t huh” you replied, taking out the cups and putting in some marshmallows before walking back over to the couch, setting the two cups on the table and turning to face him.

“I’m y/n” you smiled brightly, extending your hand out. Bucky grinned, shaking your hand and introducing himself.

“I’m bucky” you felt your face heat up as he smiled at you, much different from the last time when you looked at each other.

“does Steve know you’re here? that you’re you?” you questioned, eyeing him to try and get read on his body language. He shifted slightly, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“not really no, i-” he hesitated before fiddling with his hands and speaking up again, “ive been laying low, i just couldn’t stop thinking about you and the visions i saw” he spoke, blushing and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face.

“i couldn’t either” you replied, looking at him before looking at the way the marshmallows melted into the hot chocolate. “I was so worried these past couple of months, i tried helping steve and Sam but it was so much and we were getting no where” you mumbled, heart falling as you thought of all your fruitless efforts.

Bucky noticed the way your voice trembled as you spoke and how you grilled the mug a little tighter. He felt his chest tighten.

“I’m here now doll” he spoke softly, moving to put your mug down and pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You relaxed into his touch, tears welling in your eyes once more, you let yourself lean into him, closing your eyes for a second and enjoying his embrace.

“i missed you so much, can’t believe i could miss someone i didn’t even know that much” you laughed, sniffling lightly as you pulled away

“we’re soulmates dollface, we’re meant to be” he smiled softly at you and you nodded, a small smile as you wiped away a couple stray tears.

It was easy to fall into comfortable conversation with each other. All laughs and giggles as you spoke, the sun high in the sky already and the city wide awake despite it being early in the morning.

You so happy to have bucky with you, a smile on your face as you started to think of all you had to show him, thoughts of the future you had seen made you giddy with excitement.

“oh you have to meet Sam! The two of you would be so funny together bickering all the time- oh also there’s this coffee shop i really like, very quaint but-” you rambled, trying to fit in everything you wanted to tell bucky.

“I’m moving” bucky cut you off, a frown on his face as he glanced over at you. He focused his gaze on you, stomach dropping when you stared at him with a confused expression.

“like here? to New York?” You were quiet, knowing that’s not what he meant. Bucky but his bottom lip in frustration before turning to you with sad eyes.

“romania, i cant be here- not while HYDRA is still out there and I’m wanted for everything I’ve done” bucky frowned. Your heart broke in your chest, you wanted to curl up and cry.

You just got him back. You had lost him twice already, you weren’t sure if you could handle a third.

“you can’t- i just got you back you can’t go” you shook your head, eyes watery already. You held his hand tightly and bucky wanted to badly to stay.

“i have to” he whispered, “you know i do.”

And you did, you knew this was his best chance and you had to let him go. You knew how painful it would be and how much you would miss him. You thought about the amount of time you had cried at night, wishing you could get to the future already.

But you also knew you would get your happy ending, you knew at some point in your life you would be happily in love and laughing in a meadow of flowers watching a sunset with him. And that’s what you held onto.

“promise me you’ll come back to me” you whispered, scooting closer to him, his hands still in yours.

“I always will doll” he smiled, slipping his hand out of yours and placing it softly under your chin, tilting your head so you could look at him. Your watery eyes met his baby blue ones, you swore they sparkled slightly.

“don’t worry your pretty head doll, we still have forever to be happy” he smiled, leaning in slightly. Bucky stopped centimeters away from your lips, your heart racing at his actions, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

“may i?” He whispered. You didn’t reply, instead you crashed your lips onto him. It was needy and rough, your teeth hitting each other at one point but you didn’t care. It felt like your heart were beating in sync, you felt whole.

You both pulled away, breathless before laughing lightly, your hair messy from his hands tugging at it. Bucky ran his hand through his hair, a charming smile on his face as you two regained your composure.

“if you kiss me like that again i don’t think I’ll let you go” you teased, heart heavy as he frowned slightly.

“what if i kiss you like this” he mumbled, softly placing his lips back onto yours. It was much gentler, softer and sweet. Your hand easily finding its way to his hair, fingers cascading through his soft hair. Bucky smiled into the kiss, giving you a soft peck before pulling away.

“you’re gonna be the death of me” you whispered, heart thumping in your ears. Bucky smiled at you sweetly, pulling you into his arms and holding you.

You wiggled a bit, laying your head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat, your eyes closing and falling asleep before you could even fight to stay awake.

Bucky woke you up at around 1 pm, shaking you gently. Your eyes opened slowly and you realized you were back in your bed, tucked in under your blanket.

“i waited a bit before bringing you back to bed, didn’t wanna wake you again” bucky smiled and you laughed, sitting up and yawning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“i got some food for us, figured you’d be hungry” bucky spoke, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as you walked out of your room when you finished brushing your teeth and changing out of your pajamas.

You looked at bucky with a smile on your face, bounding over to him and tackling him with a hug, kissing his cheek. You silently thanked the universe for giving you bucky as your soulmate as the two of you talked while you ate.

Bucky had never felt so at ease, he wasn’t worried about someone kicking his door down or having to keep running. All he could focus on was the way you would smile anytime he laughed and the way you blushed when your eyes would meet.

The two of you spent the day together, cuddled up on the couch and watching a movie, just like you had seen the first time the two of you ever touched. You smiled to yourself while bucky focused on the movie, his hand mindlessly drawing circles on your arm as he held you. This was how it was meant to be, your soulmate by your side and the feeling of home.

But nothing ever seems to go as it should. By the time night came you were saying goodbye, both of you teary eyed as he held you tightly, not wanting to go but know he had to.

It had taken an hour to move from the couch to halfway to the door, both of you crying messes with soft giggles trying to cheer each other up.

Finally you had reached the door, both of you going through too many tissues and looking at each other with teary eyes and matching pink noses.

“before i go” bucky turned, pulling away from the handle and into his jacket pocket, you could hear the jingling of metal. “I want you to have these, until we can be together again” he smiled, holding out his dog tags.

You didn’t know what to say, tears flowing down your cheeks again as you looked at him. Bucky hugged you, letting you cry into his chest for a moment before you calmed down.

“are you sure buck? I mean they must mean so much to you” you looked at him and he smiled, nodding before easily putting them on you, his heart fluttering as he took in the sight of them on you.

“I’ll see you soon dollface” Bucky smiled, kissing your temple and you nodded, hands clutching his dog tags.

“see you soon lovebug, I’ll be waiting here for you” you smiled, loving the way he blushed at the new nickname.

When you found out about steve finding him in Romania you acted surprised, guilt washing over you for hiding the information from your friend but you knew it’s what bucky wanted.

You offered to go help him and Sam on the rescue mission but they stopped you, telling you it was best for you to stay out of this one. You wanted to argue but you couldn’t blame them, you had been a wreck after bucky left, barely sleeping and crying over your soulmate.

You didn’t expect the bombing at the UN, bucky being framed and the whole team falling out. You had been in New York the whole time, skipping out on the meeting with the accords because you just so happened to have the flu that week.

“oh yeah stay home i can’t afford you getting everyone sick” tony has spoken over the phone, hanging up on you, a frown on your face. Not ten minutes later did you get a notification saying food was being delivered to your house, nice warm soup along with some medicine to help you feel better.

You least expected steve flying you out to wakanda, eyes wide as you took in all the technology, heart thumping in your chest knowing bucky would be right around the corner.

You felt your heart stop as you saw him in a white tank top, running up to him and wrapping your arms around him. Your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling and bucky held you tightly with his right arm, leaning into your touch.

“oh doll I’ve missed you so damn much” he mumbled, a smile on his face as the two of you held each other for the first time in months.

“missed you so much more james” you spoke breathless, pulling away before placing a gentle kiss on his lips, the two of you smiling and resting your foreheads against each other.

“y/n-” you pressed your lips to his, quieting him. Pulling away you looked at him with love in your eyes, heart racing as he smiled at you softly.

“Steve already told me” you explained, knowing how much it would pain him to tell you. Bucky nodded, his lips curling into a gentle smile as he looked at you. His eyes landed on the outline of his dog tags under your shirt.

“you still have ‘em on” he whispered his eyes soft and his heart melting as you nodded.

“I never take them off lovebug” you replied, holding his hand in your as he smiled up at you. Steve placed a hand on your shoulder signaling it was time.

You stepped away from bucky, his hand holding onto yours tighter, not wanting to let go. You made sure you kept his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers.

“You sure about this?” Steve spoke up and bucky nodded, a tight smile on his face as his eyes flickered between the two of you.

“i cant trust my own mind,” he chuckled dryly, “until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head i think going back under is the best thing” he looked at you with a soft smile, “for everybody.”

You squeezed his hand, nodding your head softly. “don’t worry lovebug, I’m yours forever” you whispered, a smile on your face as he recognized the phrase as the same on you had spoke to him in the flashes when you first touched.

“I’m yours forever, doll” Bucky spoke, kissing your temple before slipping his hand out of yours, and stepping into the machine.

You stood next to Steve as the machine whirred, looking away as it froze over. Steve put his arm around you, leading you away.

You held onto the memories you had made months ago in your apartment. You held onto the flashes you had gotten of the two of you having a picnic in the meadow, giggling with the sunset in the background.

You held onto bucky, your hope.

taglist !

@felicityofbakerstreet @newyork47 @classygirlything @ebxny27 @hhaydenn @miaangel24 @shawnie--jo @quinnmaddie @mugscraps @bucky-32557038 @marvelfansworld @hey-there-angels @buckys2thicc @groovyvalentine

828 notes · View notes

mickey-henry · 3 years

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

pairing: bucky barnes (bookstore au) x reader

summary: eager to escape the heat, you find yourself in the presence of a mesmerizing bookstore and an irresistibly beautiful man.

word count: 2.3K

author’s note: hello! welcome to my third fic😊 I’m eager to share this with you all! I now have a taglist (the link is also in my bio) if you’re interested🥰 thank you to @certainaesthetic for helping me workshop this idea, @fuckandfluff for the grammar help, and @midnightf for hyping me up as I wrote it! likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! the header images are from pinterest and the divider is from here. I hope you like it! 💖

You’re desperate to escape the smoldering heat. It’s too hot to rest in the car; it’s been baking all day beneath the sweltering summer sun, parked just outside your place of work. If you attempt to sit in it now, you’d only be greeted with a wave of torrid air, stung with the touch of your seatbelt, and burnt from the searing leather of your steering wheel.

You’re off from work earlier than usual—the blinding sun is usually long beneath the horizon before you head home for the day. The pathetically small sun visor does nothing to shade your eyes from the blazing sunlight. Rather than driving half-blind, you decide to wait out the setting sun.

As you ponder how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you realize that now is an opportune time to visit the new bookstore, The Book Haven, that opened last month. After changing out of your uniform and throwing your work stuff in the trunk, you walk across the plaza to the shop entrance.

The bookstore greets you with the chime of a bell and a rush of cool air as you step in, a blissful contrast to the scorching outdoors. The welcoming scent of coffee grounds and the tangy aroma of old books accompany the refreshing breeze. You take a deep breath, appreciating the convivial atmosphere. The bookstore is a sublime sight; words almost can’t describe its charm.

Shelves like skyscrapers—stuffed to the brim with books, magazines, and comics—graze the ceiling. An intimate reading nook lies next to the door; an inviting window seat dwells beside a floor-to-ceiling window. Clear mosaic window clings cover the glass, casting beautiful rainbows throughout the store. Stringed vintage light bulbs illuminate the shelves; candle-lit sconces adorn the top corners of each one. Oriental rugs lay between the shelves, covering a dark mocha floor. Tucked in the back of the store is a small coffee cranny, hidden at first glance. Frank Sinatra’s charming, rich vocals travel through the air, tickling your ears. The owner clearly put the utmost time, energy, and love into the creation of their shop. It is unequivocally perfect and already one of your favorite places.

You wander to the classics section, enthralled by the exquisite covers. Sensing someone nearby, your eyes glance at movement caught in the corner of your eye. Your stomach somersaults at the stunning stranger. The instant you lay your eyes on him, you forget to breathe for a moment—your breath engulfs your throat. You’re astounded by the Adonis of a man before you.

Bristles of scruff grace his defined jawline—his low man-bun neatly styles his dark chestnut hair. A grey short-sleeve button-up shirt hugs his toned arms; a white tank top clings to his lean, fit frame; cuffed slim-fit khaki pants, help up by a bronze braided belt, embrace his thick thighs; and weathered, chunky brown leather shoes don his feet.

Through the rose-colored glasses that surround your heart, your soul imagines a life with a perfect stranger. The hopeless romantic in you can’t help but steal glances, hoping to catch a better glimpse of him. The moment he turns to walk away, your heart sinks to your stomach. You hope this isn’t the last time you see this gorgeous man.

A few minutes later, you’re mulling over a collectible edition of The Catcher in the Rye, attempting to justify purchasing yet another copy of your favorite book. A melodic voice interrupts your pondering. “That’s a pretty edition of The Catcher in the Rye you’ve got there.”

You turn towards the charming voice. Lo-and-behold, it’s the love of your life: the handsome stranger you’ve mentally lived a lifetime with. His beauty is even more profound up close: now you can see that his eyes are a lovely shade of blue. His eyes, haunted by a subtle sadness, draw you in, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself entranced in his sea-blue current; you could easily drown in his gaze. You attempt to hide your awestruck expression and converse with him like a normal human being. “I agree! I already own a copy though, do I really need a new one?”

“I think we both know the answer is always yes,” he assures.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I'll get it! Thank you for justifying my unnecessary purchase.”

Your words hang in the air, everything going quiet as you wait for the ravishing stranger to introduce himself. The two of you stare in silence at each other, the tension thickening as the seconds pass by. After a few moments, his face flashes in realization—you were waiting for his name.

“I’m Bucky,” he offers with an enchanting smile, extending his hand out to you. You share your name as the two of you shake hands. Your eyes stare down his veiny arm to his ring-studded fingers grasped around yours. You allow yourself to imagine for a few moments how amazing those fingers would feel tracing your arms, tangling your hair, and teasing your inner thigh. Your lustful reverie comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the book nestled inside the crook of his elbow: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, the bane of your existence. You scoff with furrowed brows; of course, Mr. Handsome Stranger would be interested in the one book you despise.

“Got something to say there, sweetheart?” he questions with an amused grin.

“Out of all the classic novels in this entire store, that’s the one you chose? The Metamorphosis?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he jives.

You pause for a second, debating whether it’s worth it to argue with a stranger. The pondering lasts only a few seconds; the exhaustion from your day disintegrates your filter. Besides, you loathe The Metamorphosis.

“What isn’t wrong with it? The dude wakes up thinking he’s an insect? The reader has to sit there throughout the entire book, wondering whether he’s a man or a bug? What the actual fuck? I didn’t appreciate the existential crisis that book gave me at fifteen; if I can help someone else avoid the suffering caused by that monstrosity, I'm going to do my part,” you huff, unamused by the joy Bucky seems to gain from your zealous analysis.

“Wow, what a passionate review! Perez Hilton would be envious of your slander. Okay then, what classic would you recommend instead?”

You cross your arms, expecting him to challenge your response. “The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.”

“That’s a play,” he counters.

“It’s published as a book; it counts! It’s witty, playful, and has a happy ending, which is the most important point of all. It also doesn’t make you want to pull a Fahrenheit 451 and burn every copy in existence,” you attest.

He steps closer to you, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, sweetheart.”

Great, there he goes again with that freaking pet name; it’s going to be the death of you. He knows your name, you just gave it to him, yet here he is, infuriatingly insisting on calling you sweetheart instead. Stupid pretty boy with his ocean blue eyes and amorous smile.

“That’s exactly the point,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So, why would I want to read something that doesn’t end well? If I’m going to escape this reality for a while, it better be for a happier one.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I’ll throw the book across the room and make up my own happy ending!”

“Ooh, aggressive,” he tuts. “The owner of this place might not be too happy with you if you’re throwing books all over the place; it’ll scare away the customers.”

“Then it’s a good thing the owner isn’t here,” you interject confidently, knowing full well you have no idea who the owner is.

“Well, that just isn’t true, sweetheart. You’re looking right at him.”

He’s lying—he has to be. Why would a dreamboat like Bucky own a bookstore?

You scoff, “you’re not the owner of this place.”

“I’m not? What makes you say that?” he banters.

“People like you don’t own bookstores!” you exclaim.

“People like me?” he goads, cocking his head to the side. The action erupts butterflies in your stomach.

“Attractive people!” you groan.

“So you think I’m attractive?” he plays, stepping to close the gap between you.

“Psh, no, you wish,” you muster. The heat spreading across your cheeks betrays your bluff.

There are mere inches between the both of you now; you hope he can’t hear your racing heartbeat. You watch his eyes go down from yours to your mouth and back up again. He eyes you with a smirk, his teeth playfully tugging his bottom lip. It takes everything in your power not to give in to his spell.

“I’ve known you for what, five minutes? I don’t go around kissing strangers, Bucky,” you falter, taking a step back from his closeness.

“Then let’s not be strangers, sweetheart. Grab a coffee with me; I know a nice place, not far from here,” he flirts, gesturing to the counter at the back of the store.

“Let me learn more about what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he purrs, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a coffee with you,” you surrender.

A bright, honeyed smile dons his face.

“It better be good, though. Not the stale crap you usually get in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’d only give you the best, sweetheart,” he winks, extending his right hand. You take it; he gives you a soft squeeze before weaving you through the towering shelves.

Your discussion continues with another passionate book review as he prepares your drink. He’s a sucker for gritty dystopian novels while you gravitate towards sappy romances. He shares his passion for painting as he guides you to the reading nook. The artwork hung on the edges of the bookcases is crafted by him—a detail you hadn’t noticed at first glance. His stunning work features both landscapes and people. He loves to sit in a picturesque landscape and paint for endless hours. Occasionally, he takes his old polaroid as he explores the town, snapping moments between strangers, translating their intimacy to canvas when he gets home.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the reading nook before handing you our steaming cup of joe. You sit with your legs crossed, your hands hugging the mug in your lap. Bucky sits with his leg draped over the side of the bench, his left foot pressing into his right thigh. The conversation shifts topics; the two of you divulge your desires and unfulfilled ambitions. You aren’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes, the sweet cup of joe in your palms, or the aroma of coffee surrounding you, but in his presence, your senses feel wide awake.

Before you know it, the mesmeric moon replaces the sizzling sun, melting away the blistering heat, and the steaming cup of coffee in your hands has long chilled. Bucky’s employee interrupts the blissful rendezvous, informing him that all the closing duties are complete, and he’s headed home for the night.

You stare at your watch in shock—it's five past nine. Where did the time go? You apologize profusely to the poor kid who had to close up alone; he assures you it’s no problem.

A melancholic pit in your stomach forms as you turn back to Bucky. He’s nestled himself into your soul; you don’t want to say farewell to him so soon. He has a sad glint in his eyes; you hope it’s because he’s also dreading the end of this perfect night.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks timidly, his earlier suave demeanor gone from his voice. He stands up in front of you, offering his arm to escort you.

“I’d love that,” you reply with a shy grin, grabbing his arm and hugging it tightly.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in front of your car. You let go of his arm and lean against the trunk. You stare into his eyes, hoping that he can see without the use of words how much you don’t want this moment to end. There’s a few moments of painful silence before Bucky clears his throat.

“So, now that we’re not total strangers, how about that kiss?” he flirts with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you reply with a bashful smile.

He slowly reaches his hand towards your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. He presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this? ‘Cause if we do, you might not be able to get rid of me, sweetheart.”

“Yes I do, Bucky,” you giggle.

He grins as he gently presses his pillowy pink lips on yours. The kiss steals all the air from your lungs—his touch sends tingles throughout your body, electrifying your veins. You’re breathless when your lips finally part.

“Let me get your number before I let you go,” Bucky insists. You nod and hand him your phone, unable to form a coherent thought. The ghost of his lips and fingers trace your figure. You’re barely acquainted with his tender touch, yet you feel naked without it, yearning to once again be within his grasp.

You exchange phones—adding your number and name with a sparkling heart emoji and swiftly passing his phone back before you can change your mind. Bucky snaps a quick selfie for his contact, smirking for the camera. You grin when you see he also put emojis by his name: a beetle and a kissy-face.

He pecks your cheek before opening the car door for you. “Hope to see you around, lovebug.” The new pet name burns your cheeks and erupts butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn’t leave the parking lot until your car disappears completely from his view.

You drive home with thoughts of Bucky swirling in your mind. You send a silent thanks to the universe for bringing this beautiful man into your life. His voice, touch, and smile echo in your thoughts for the remainder of the evening—his presence paving its way through your dreams. You’re falling hard and fast; you only hope he’ll be there to catch you.

tagging a few mutuals who expressed interest in this story🥰please fill out the taglist form if you’d like to be tagged in the next story! 💖

@ritesofreverie @midnightf @certainaesthetic

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #my fic: you're the best book I ever read #mel's writing

398 notes · View notes

pingutats · 3 years

Text

my dearest darling

in which you and harry spend a sunday morning having coffee & cake, and spontaneously decide to go engagement ring shopping together.

warnings: a little suggestive at the end. mostly just pure fluff!

word count: 3.4k

. . . . .

The little alleyway off the main street filled with café tables is a perfect place for you and Harry to sit unseen. In fact, in this little alcove, it’s easy to watch the world pass by the two of you. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual of the world watching Harry.

He’s wearing sunglasses anyway, just in case—despite the overcast weather.

You frown at him, resting your elbows on the table and lacing your fingers together to rest your chin on. “I really think that makes you more conspicuous.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Nah. Or at least, if people notice, they’re going to notice an odd bloke in sunnies, not me.”

“They’ll notice it’s you.”

He glances at the busy footpath. “‘S working so far, love.”

A young waitress rounds the corner from the cafe’s front entrance and sets your coffees down on the table. You move your elbows off the table politely to give her space.

“Thanks,” Harry says, reaching for his black coffee.

You smile at the waitress as you wrap your hands around the latte you ordered, warming up your freezing fingers. You notice the way she hesitates before she leaves, how she looks at Harry like she wants to say something before before quickly spinning on her heels and walking away. When she’s out of earshot, you look at Harry. “She knows.”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

The waitress reappears a minute later with the little cakes you ordered. This time, she’s braver. “I’m so sorry—are you Harry Styles?” she asks, saying his name in a voice that’s akin to a reverent whisper.

His eyes dart to you for a split second and he raises his eyebrow enough that only you’ll notice, conceding to you, then smiles at her. “Yeah, I am. Sorry, what’s your name?”

You watch him navigate the encounter easily, like you’ve watched so many times. The girl asks for a photo and he politely declines, explaining that he doesn’t want to draw attention, but offers to sign a napkin for her instead. He a short message (nice to meet you, all my love) to her and draws a couple hearts after he signs his name, then passes it to her with a sweetly genuine thanks her for her support.

“Oh my gosh, no, thank you,” she says earnestly. “It was so, so nice to meet you.” She glances at you, then, and her cheeks go even pinker. “Thanks,” she says again, and then she’s gone.

You let a giggle free at the awkward way his fans treat you, like they don’t know if it’s appropriate to talk to you as well, and how they struggle to find something to say to you anyway. Once it might have bothered you. It’s just amusing to you now. You raise your brows at Harry. “All your love?” you tease, quoting the message he wrote on the napkin. “Where’s my share?”

He pouts from behind his sunglasses. “Don’t be like that.”

You kick his shin gently underneath the table. “I’m kidding around. She was sweet. I like watching you do that, you’re so good at it.”

His foot swings around to trap your ankle between his. “Trying to play footsie at eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning? You little minx.”

You roll your eyes and wrench your foot free, rattling the table as you do so. He laughs—a sharp barking ha! that makes you smile through your embarrassment at causing a small commotion.

“Who’s conspicuous, sorry?” he asks.

You shake your head at him and stab your fork into your apple and cinnamon muffin. He keeps giggling as he slides his own plate with the carrot cake to his side of the table and picks up a fork himself.

“Mm, that’s good,” he says after he swallows his first bite. “Better than the one I make.”

“Well, baking isn’t known to be one of your talents.”

He claps a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.” He leans over the table and skewers a piece of your muffin on his fork, dodging your attempts to swat his hand away with great agility. He pops it in his mouth triumphantly, cocking his head like he’s challenging you.

In return, you steal a piece of his cake.

“That was a much larger piece than what I took,” he accuses.

You shrug.

His phone, face down on the table, dings. He glances up at you.

“Check it,” you tell him. You know he only has alerts on for his closest friends—otherwise his phone would be ringing all day long. “I don’t mind.”

He bites his lip apologetically and flips the phone over, reading it. “Oh, it’s Tom. Hang on a sec.” He starts typing back.

You crane your neck around to read the message—something about Tom being free at the end of July, and Harry is giving a thumbs-up to that.

“Where are you off to?” you ask.

“France, maybe,” he replies. You’re aware that discovering this kind of information so suddenly would be jarring for most couples, enough to even incite a fight—but you and Harry aren’t exactly a normal couple, and international trips are just part and parcel of your relationship. Hell, he goes on world tours for months at a time. You’re lucky, you suppose, that you function just as well long-distance as you do when you’re living together.

“Lads’ trip?”

He sends the message and clicks his phone off, leaning back in his chair. “Nah. Taking you to Paris and getting down on m’knee in front of the Eiffel Tower,” he says, nodding sagely.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, Tom’s there to get the photos.” He shovels a forkful of the cake into his mouth and then points his fork in the general direction of a street busker playing a violin across the road. He swallows. “And I’m getting that guy to play a little tune, for the atmosphere,” he adds.

You raise your brows. “Oh, you’ve got budget for this, then.”

He smiles. “Nothing but the best for my dearest darling.”

You snort.

He carefully cuts a piece of cake with the edge of his fork. “Nah, we’re thinking of doing a trip down to his friend’s studio in—somewhere in France, I can’t remember really. Friends and family welcome too, if you want to come. Apparently it’s a real nice place.” He eats his mouthful and then lifts his sunnies to look at you with clear eyes. “We are getting married, though. I mean that.”

Your cheeks threaten to burst from how badly you want to smile, but you force yourself to assume a serious face, just to humour him. “Of course we are.”

Despite the butterflies it inspires, this conversation isn’t new. You’ve been with Harry a couple of years now and you both know you’re on the same page when it comes to your shared future. There are no hard plans, but the direction is set. You’re getting there someday.

He puffs his cheeks out. “I feel like you aren’t taking this as seriously as I am.”

You sigh melodramatically. “Well, sweetheart, I haven’t seen a ring yet.”

“A ring? You should have asked,” he drawls, then suddenly sits up straight and points a finger at you. “Don’t take that as a challenge. I want to be the one to ask.”

You shrug. “Can’t make any promises.”

His arm shoots forward to grab at your hand and you almost laugh out loud at the puppy-eyes he’s making at you. “No, please, baby, I swear you can do everything else, but let me do the proposing bit.”

In your heart, you’re happy he’s so insistent, because this is exactly how you want it to be too. In your mind, though, you really enjoy tormenting him.

“I’ll think about it,” you concede, and he groans.

“I’m buying a ring soon as I can, just to lock it in,” he tells you as he destroys what’s left of his carrot cake.

Once you’ve finished and Harry’s gone up to pay for the coffee and cake (he also took a moment to lean over the counter to snap a group selfie with the waitress who served you earlier and a couple others too) you walk back up the street in the general direction of your car that’s parked a few blocks down. The weather is pleasant today and the sun is even peeking out from behind the clouds now, justifying his sunglasses.

Your mind starts to drift (his arm wrapped loosely around your waist anchors you to the real world) as you think about how nice it is to be with Harry, how you’ve learned to appreciate each physical moment you have with him because they are so precious. After the tours, the promotional trips, the film sets, and all the little things in between, you understand how to be with Harry. You know not everyone can handle a life like this, and you’re sure that if it wasn’t Harry whose return you awaited, you wouldn’t be able to either. But he always returns.

Harry comes to a sudden halt in front of a shop window, gazing in. You’re nearly yanked off your feet as you keep trying to walk with your arm around him—he’s so steady that he doesn’t budge. You stand next to him and look into what you realise is a jewellery store.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“Huh?”

He looks down, his arm squeezing around your shoulder. “Said I’d get you a ring, didn’t I?”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “What, today?”

“‘M not asking. Just preparing.”

You raise your eyebrows up at him. “That is… that is really a technicality.”

“Humour me,” he says. “C’mon.” He shepherds you into the store, steering you by your shoulders.

It’s small and pretty in here, the air from the fans cool against your sun-warmed skin. There are hardly any other customers at the moment, so you have some kind of valuable privacy. There are a couple of glass counters that run along either side of the store with meticulously placed themed displays inside them. You gravitate immediately to the closest thing, a cluster of rough amethysts hanging from necklaces.

“Aren’t these so cute?” you comment to Harry.

His arms wrap around you from behind and you reach up to grasp onto his crossed forearms resting against your chest. “Oh, yeah, they are.”

You stay there looking at the necklaces for a little too long—it’s not like you’re really that fascinated by the jewels, but more that you’re just enjoying Harry’s head leaning over your shoulder and his chest pressed to your back as you stand there. When your gaze meanders along the counter and you see something new, though, you shake free of his grip and follow your whims.

This store isn’t labelled out front with a massive brand. You’re pretty sure it’s an independent jeweller, judging by the neat description cards that accompany each small collection, explaining the theme in a lively and personal manner. This is what makes you really fall in love with the place and feel sure that this is where you’ll find the perfect ring. You know Harry could afford any ring from any famous brand, the heaviest jewels imaginable, easily worthy of a feature article in Vogue magazine. He could probably organise to have a diamond dug up fresh specifically to go on your finger.

It’s the fact that Harry could give you anything in the world that makes you not want it at all. Special, to the two of you, isn’t something that you’ll find in wealth or the crowds that adore him.

It’s found in a day like this.

“Oh, my god, H, look at this one,” you gasp, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over.

He bends over the counter, his gaze following the line of your pointing finger. “Oh, that is pretty,” he says.

It’s a simple gold band with a small, neatly carved diamond fixed to it. It isn’t flashy at all, which is what drew you to it. You knew he’d like it too. Despite the decadence of his performances, he can be a different man behind closed doors and you love that part of him. The secret part, the one that only you know so well.

“I’m in love with it,” you tell him.

Harry nods. “Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You never doubted that he would agree, but his assent sends a bolt of excitement up your spine. It’s all so real, suddenly, and you can’t wait to see him on his knee for you, to see that ring on your finger. You know your ring size off by heart (how could you not, being in a relationship with the jewellery connoisseur that Harry is), so there’ll be no need for you to try it on today. You’re left with only the raw anticipation of the day he’ll slide it onto your finger.

His hands come down to rest on your hips as you both stare at the ring. You imagine you can hear his heart, knowing that it’ll be beating erratically because his excitement must match yours—you know how he feels about the idea of marriage.

He spins you around to face him, leaving his hands on your hips. He looks at you very seriously. His sunglasses are resting on top of his head now, pushing back his curls and revealing his green eyes and furrowed brow to you.

“You know, if we’re seen buying an engagement ring…” he begins, trailing off. He shrugs. “Just want to think about that.”

You screw up your nose. “According to some magazines we got married last week, and also six months ago. Just being in here is probably going to spark something.” You glance behind you, as if you’ll see journalists scribbling away on their theories, then flatten your palms against his chest, smoothing out his shirt. “I’m happy to ignore it. I want to just do our thing, H.”

He nods, pursing his lips, and gradually the crease in his forehead disappears. “Okay. Good.” Twin smiles spread over your faces and you have the feeling of being two giddy kids, high-schoolers about to have their first kiss. Something new, unknown, exciting, that the two of you are going into together. His eyes are practically sparkling at you. If this was a cartoon, you think his pupils would be shaped like hearts right now. Something is starting to bud and you can feel it growing up inside you and between you, preparing to bloom.

“Alright,” you say, breaking the insulating silence to draw you both back to the real world.

He blinks a couple of times as if he’s just waking up. “Alright,” he echoes. “Let’s get it.”

He waves over a man drifting through the store in a neat suit and points at the ring. “Excuse me, can we please have a look at this one?”

The two of you watch the man unlock the cabinet and slide the plate of rings out, placing it on the counter. He picks up the one Harry pointed out. “It’s a lovely one, sir.”

“It is,” Harry says. His hand finds yours and squeezes your fingers. “What size is it?”

The man checks the price and tells you, and your mouth drops open. Surely there is something supernaturally perfect going on, because it’s exactly your size. You and Harry look at each other incredulously.

The man seems to notice your unspoken conversation, because he helpfully adds, “We can resize it if you need.”

Harry chuckles. “No, it’s perfect. I think…” he trails off, looking at you. “What do you think?”

You nod at him, grinning. You rub your thumb over the back of his palm as he tells the man, “Thank you. We’d like this one, please.”

You stand slightly behind him as he pays for it, flexing your hands and wringing them in front of you. You know it’s all in your head, but your left ring finger is tingling as if it senses that it’s missing a piece. You really just want to wear the ring at this minute, but when the man selling it to you offers, Harry shakes his head quickly.

“I’ll hold onto it for now,” he says. He accepts the little box from the man and slips it into his pocket. “Thank you so much.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, sir. Enjoy it, and congratulations to the two of you.”

Harry snakes his arm around your waist as you walk back out to the street. His hips knock against you as he squeezes you into his side, and you can feel the little box in his pocket. You can’t help the grin that takes over your whole face. You worry you look like an idiot, smiling so widely at nothing, but when you glance up at Harry, he looks exactly the same.

Your car is parked down a quieter road and you get to relax a little once you’re away from the crowds of the main shopping strip. You can walk a little more slowly and Harry loosens up a bit. His hyper-vigilance starts to strip away. You can see the tension in his shoulders dissolving and here’s your Harry, emerging from his defensive layers. Most people wouldn’t notice this change, but you do. You feel how he adjusts the grip of his hand on your hip, how he leans into you a little more as you walk. In your closeness, you can smell his cologne and you think of how you watched him spray it on this morning—and how you’re going to be watching him do that for the rest of your lives.

He glances over his shoulder and you copy him. The narrow street behind you is empty, but you don’t get a moment to really register this before you feel his arms tighten around your waist and you’re swept off your feet for a second as he crashes his lips into yours.

You close your eyes, letting the kiss envelop all your senses. The sweetness of the cake’s icing lingering on his lips; his arms locked around your waist, holding you up; the rapid beating of your heart. He pulls away slowly and your eyes flutter open. His face is just inches from yours and he’s looking at you with such intensity you feel naked. Not for the first time, you’re in awe of how impossibly green his eyes are; you could make a palette from every forest in the world, and it wouldn’t hold a candle to what you see in front of you right now.

“Y/N,” he says. He cracks a grin. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Your reply is simply to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss. Your hand tangles in his hair and you feel his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pulls away again quickly.

“Fuck,” he says, sounding lost for breath. “Need to stop before I make a fool of m’self in public.” He even physically takes a step back from you, his eyes comically wide.

You giggle. Your gaze travels down his body and you notice the indent of the box in his pocket. “Is that a ring in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

He shakes his head at you. “You’ve gone all giddy. ‘M getting you home right now and then we’re celebrating properly.” He turns around and starts walking towards the car, his long legs carrying him faster than you can keep up.

Your stomach flutters imagining what his idea of celebrating might be. Suddenly, the only thing on your mind is getting back to your house as soon as humanly possible. You run after Harry, skipping around in front of him and jogging backwards as you waggle your fingers in his face. “So, when are you going to pop the question?” you ask.

“Oh, honey,” he says, patting his pocket with the ring. He grins. “It’s going to be when you least expect it, I’ll promise you that.”

. . . . .

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed—if you did, a reblog or a message is really encouraging and lovely for me to see!! the title is taken from the song by etta james.

this fic is the first part of a series called “here we are in heaven,” and i’m really really excited about it. you can read my earlier fic, at last!, if you want to see where this will end up, but there will be more parts to fill the in-between. plus blurbs and stuff! let’s chat about it!

my masterlist can be found here. have a beautiful day!

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #fiance harry #fic #here we are in heaven

364 notes · View notes

uncpanda · 3 years

Text

To Change a Name

AN: It’s been a while since I wrote something for Spencer. Hopefully you enjoy this.

The apartment is strangely quiet. That’s the first thought that runs through Spencer’s head as he drops his keys in their designated bowl, and tosses his go bag to the side. Usually, you’re up by now, puttering around, and if he’s really lucky, you’re usually baking something. And yet, despite it being nine am on a Saturday morning, you’re nowhere to be seen. He checks the bedroom, where the bed is unmade, but you’re not there. Then he checks the bathroom, where the towels are damp, but once again, you’re not there. At least those are signs you’re alive.

He’s just about to call you when he hears the door jiggle. Your voice rings through a second later, and then, there you are with a . . . “Is that a dog?”

You beam up at him, “Yes.”

He crosses his arms and stares down at the dog. It’s some sort of pitbull, he’s pretty sure. At the very least it has all the characteristics. He’s black with a white spot on the chest and another one on his nose. He’s a wiggling, happy mess.

He looks back at you and rephrases the question, “You bought a dog?”

“Adopted.” You correct, “So three days ago, I was walking through the park, during the afternoon, not at night, in fact never at night, not since you gave me those statistics. . .” He listens to you babble for a few seconds and he feels the smile coming on. “Anyways, there was this adoption event going on, and that’s when I met Logan.”

“Logan?”

“He’s not a baby Spence, I can’t just change his name, that would be rude. Plus it’s kind of cool, kind of like Wolverine.” There’s a moment of silence before you ask, “Is something wrong?” And then, before he can answer, you say, “Because he’s house trained. And he’s really sweet. Like super sweet. And there were just so many dogs Spencer, and Logan came right up to me, and then he licked my hand . . . and I just had to bring him home.” You stare at him, “Say something.”

He does, “Are we allowed to have a dog? Because we struggle to keep plants alive.”

You sigh, “That is actually a good point. I have alarms set on my phone, and I have his schedule up on the fridge. I’ve also looked into dog walkers for days when we’re out of the house a while.”

Spencer shrugs, “Doggy day care might be an option too?”

“Agreed. But I don’t want to do that just yet. You know he just got here, and I don’t want him to think we’re abandoning him or anything. Speaking of which, I should introduce you,” You kneel down next to the dog, and scratch his ears, “Logan, this is Spencer, he’s your dad. He travels a lot, but when he’s gone he calls a lot. I’ll make sure that he can talk to you when he’s gone.”

Spencer has no doubt that you’ll have him talking to this dog in the middle of a case, he wonders how bad Derek is going to tease him for this. Then you beam up at him and he finds himself walking towards you and the goofy dog. He folds himself down next to the two of you and a second later Logan is in his lap, his tail thumping against his leg. Then he finds himself being propelled backwards as the dog licks his face and he can’t help but laugh.

He’s able to keep Logan a secret for three weeks, right up until his phone lights up with a text from you. He and the rest of the team are on the plane flying out to the middle of nowhere. They’ve just finished reviewing the case, and he’s reciting statistics in his head when you send a picture of you and Logan . . . and Logan is wearing duck printed pajamas. He can’t help but burst into laughter and draw the attention of everyone else on the plane.

Derek is quick to snatch his phone away, and then looks at him, “You and Y/N got a pitbull?”

“His name’s Logan.”

JJ’s brow furrows, “Logan?”

He shrugs, “It was his name. We couldn’t change it, it would have been rude.”

Rossi looks over Derek’s shoulder at the picture, “He’s wearing pajamas . . . with ducks on him.”

“Yeah. He’s living his best life. In fact I’m pretty sure that dog lives a life better than most humans.”

There’s another moment of silence before Derek simply asks, “When can we meet pretty dog?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid and reader #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm reader insert

395 notes · View notes