#first thing this morning i got up and got pancake batter and half asleep and glasses-less i dropped an egg on the floor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nervousgardenerkid · 2 years ago

Note

steve request because i’m a steve simp first and a person second—

no thoughts, head empty, just cooking with steve and trying to have a chill domestic fluff moment but all the kids are over in the other room complaining about how long it’s taking—

much love bestie <333

Sunday kind of love

a/n: bestie,,this is probably the cutest thing i've ever written. like im OBSESSED😭i hope you enjoy it! credit to the gif owner!

warnings: tooth rotting fluff (it's so cute) no female pronouns are used but the term girlfriend is, steve being madly in love with reader

Winters in Hawkins had two phases. The first phase was the beginning of winter. Colder breezes came by, and it looked a little gloomier than usual. The trees were bare and the colorful leaves that once sat upon the branches were now on the floor, soggy from the frost that painted them overnight. The second phase was your favorite. You'd go to bed with a bare yard and wake up with a white blanket of snow there instead.

It was currently Sunday morning. You woke up with a quiet groan and shivered from the lack of warmth you felt. You reach your hand out feeling for the warm body that was next to you when you fell asleep, but when you don't feel him you lift your head and open your eyes. You pout when you're met with an empty bed, trying to think of where he went but your thoughts are cut short when you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. With a quiet tsk leaving your mouth, you get out of the bed, grab your shorts that were on the floor, and put them on. You shiver from the coolness of the room and walk over to the dresser grabbing the first long-sleeve top you find. Once you slip it over your head you quietly make your way downstairs smiling when you hear him humming a soft tune.

You peek your head around the corner, your heart growing three times its size at the sight in front of you. Steve is biting down on his lower lip as he reads the measurements on the back of the box he's holding. His eyes flick up toward you and he gives you an award-winning smile. You walk into the kitchen, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you place a kiss on his cheek.

“Morning Stevie.”

“Morning baby,” he mumbles while bringing you closer to him and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. You let out a hum when you start to smell all of the delicious food he's making. Untangling yourself from his arms you turn toward the stove grabbing a piece of bacon Steve had laid out on a plate.

“Hey, don't go crazy now. The kids will flip if they don't have bacon with their pancakes.”

You swallow the food that's in your mouth and pop the other half of bacon into Steve’s.

“Did you get eggos for El?”

He nods his head before swallowing his food.

“Got her plate of eggos right here.”

You hop onto the counter and smile when Steve brings over a bowl of pancake batter. He starts stirring occasionally, glancing at you with a smile on his face.

“Do you need help with anything?”

He stops to think about it.

“Actually, can you get the hash browns out of the freezer and start cooking them? I already have the pan out for it, all you need is a bit of oil and just put them on the pan.”

You smile and hop off the counter going to the freezer to get started on the hash browns. A comfortable silence falls over you and Steve as you both listen to the song that's playing on the radio. Steve hums along quietly and smiles at what he hears from you.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you were a master in the kitchen?”

He chuckles. “I wouldn't say master,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I dunno, I guess I just learned along the way. I mean, my parents weren't around and a boy’s gotta eat.”

He flips a pancake onto a plate before pouring more batter on the hot pan.

“Figured I could learn a thing or two while they were gone.”

“Besides throwing insane parties?” you giggle out.

“Last time I checked, you liked those insane parties,” he mumbles while wrapping his arms around you.

“Wrong, I liked the boy who threw the insane parties.”

Steve smiles at you. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, do you know if he's single?”

He pretends to think about it before snapping his fingers. “You know, I think heard he's crazy in love with his beautiful girlfriend.”

You pout.

“Darn, I guess you'll have to do.” you giggle out while leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Lucky me,” he mumbles against your lips. Before the kiss could get passionate you hear footsteps coming into the kitchen then collective groans.

“Can you guys not make out above our food?” Dustin grumbled out while rubbing his eyes.

“Give them a break, they're in love.”

“Yeah. They're in love.” Max and El giggled while lightly pushing each other. Soon enough Lucas, Mike, and Will joined their friends in the kitchen all of them mumbling good morning to each other. You smile at them and grab the plate of bacon and hash browns before nodding over at the dining room table.

“Go sit down, Steve and I will bring the food.”

“We will?”

You shush him before following the kids into the dining room and placing down the plates of food you held. Steve watched with a smile on his face as you asked Will to grab plates. His heart swelled in his chest as Will passed out the plates and you poured everyone a cup of orange juice, rolling your eyes when Mike said he prefers apple juice.

Steve was never sure why his parents got such a big dining table when it was always just the three of them, but right now he's thankful they did. He watches with warm eyes as everyone starts to grab the food that's laid out in front of them, some giggling at the jokes that are being told while the others are still trying to fully wake up. You walk into the kitchen and flip over the pancake that Steve was making earlier.

“You okay? You almost burnt the pancakes.”

“I love you,” he whispers while wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you close to him.

You both sway to the song on the radio with smiles on your faces.

“I love you too.”

“I want to start a family with you.”

Your eyes widen and Steve laughs a beautiful laugh. He moves some hair out of your face before he continues.

“Not now obviously, but eventually. I want a family and I want it to be with you.”

You lean in, closing the space between you, and give him the softest kiss he's ever received in his life. Steve feels like he's on a cloud, lips following yours as you pull away from him to put the pancake on the plate with the rest.

“We’ll have a family soon Steve.”

He smiles wide and you can see stars in his eyes

“Yeah? You mean it?”

You kiss his cheek and grab the pancakes and eggos for the kids.

“I wouldn't have it any other way. For now, let's focus on our other family, yeah?” you asked while gesturing to the kids.

Our family. His heart clenches in the best way possible as the words replay in his head on loop. He grabs the plates out of your hands and kisses the crown of your head, stopping when you grab his arm gently.

“You know,” you start. His curious eyes looking at you. “Just because we can't have a family yet, doesn't mean we can't practice starting one.”

He tilts his head a bit, confused before it sets in.

“Kids!” he shouts, making his way to the dining table. “Let's get you all fed and back to your parents! I'm sure they miss you all so much.”

Dustin grabs a pancake and looks at Steve.

“Actually, can I stay here till later? My mom isn't home-”

“You can stay with Mike.”

You cleared your throat and shook your head. “Of course, you can Dustin, we still have some movies to watch anyways.”

Dustin opens his mouth ready to thank you but stops when he sees Steve’s icy glare.

“You know what, I think I'll stay with Mike,” he said with a smile.

You walk by Steve pinching his arm, holding back your giggle when he jumps a bit. He follows you into the kitchen.

“You know, when we have kids they’re gonna throw off plans a lot.”

Steve shook his head. “Not our kids. Our kids are gonna be the best.”

“Oh, are they now?” you challenge.

“Of course they are! All six of them,” he says while backing into the dining room to eat with the kids.

You laugh but stop when you hear what he says.

“Wait, did you say six?!”

taglist <3

@cityofidek @spideyjass @simpingoverfictionalppl

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff

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alotofpockets · 3 years ago

Text

With the right person | Natasha Romanoff x Reader | Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha and you had been dating a little over a year when she asked you to come with her to spend the weekend at the Barton’s. Seeing you with Clint’s kids, makes her want to talk to you about having kids.

Word count: 1.746

Warnings: nausea, pregnancy (r). Mostly just fluff.

A/n: I got carried away, I think this is the most words for a chapter I have ever done haha. Also for anyone looking through my search history it now probably looks like I'm pregnant... One more thing thank you to @yellowvxbes for giving me the idea to write a future part for this story and also giving me a little imagine to start me of with <3

Part 1 | Part 2

* Two years later *

You look at your wedding ring as you think back to the doctor’s appointment you had five days ago. You and Natasha wanted to have another child, a year and a half ago you had adopted your little Emily. You’re trying for your second child through IUI. Before you started the process your doctor had mentioned that the first few tries were most likely not going to result in you getting pregnant, that on average the third or fourth time were the most successful. Five days ago you had your third appointment, so you were very anxiously waiting until you could take a pregnancy test.

“Darling, can you come here? Emily had a bad dream” You hear you wife call out from you daughter’s bedroom. You run into the room and see Natasha holding your crying three year old. “Same one?” Natasha nods “Tony is lucky he’s out of town.”

A week ago you had celebrated Emily’s birthday at the compound. Cooper and Lila were talking about the Battle of New York and Emily wanted to know what that was. Tony offered to enlighten her. At the mention of aliens Emily’s eyes widened in fear. “Tony” Natasha snapped. “Oh, uhm right she’s just a kid” Tony mumbled before saying “don’t worry kid, the aliens aren’t here anymore. They’re hidden away.” After seeing the expression on Natasha’s face, Tony had quickly left the room.

Emily had nightmares about aliens hiding in her room ever since.

“Mommy?” Emily cries out. “Yes sweetheart, mommy’s here” you say while taking her from Natasha’s arms to hug her tight. You take her to your bedroom while Natasha investigates the room like she promised Emily. “All clear honey, no monsters hiding in your room” Nat says as she comes into your bedroom and kisses Emily’s forehead. “do you want me to check in here?” your wife asks as she sees Emily look at the walk in closet. With a small nod, Nat goes in full spy mode looking around the room and clearing spaces.

When she’s done you softly start singing “I’ve got the magic in me, every time I touch that track it turn into gold. Now everybody knows I’ve got the magic in me” while stroking the young girls hair. When she finally fell into a soft, peaceful sleep, you lay her down on the bed. Natasha tugs her in and kisses her forehead softly.

“You really do have the magic in you, I love you” Natasha says laying a hand on your side. “I love you too Nat, good night” You intertwine your fingers as you snuggle closer to Natasha, with little Emily in between you.

The next morning you are woken up by giggles. As you open your eyes you see little Emily trying to climb out of the bed. “Good morning sweetheart” you say as you pull her closer and hug her tight. You look over to your wife, who is still fast asleep next to you “how about we go make some breakfast for mama?”

About ten minutes later Natasha walks into the kitchen and stops to admire you from the doorway. She smiles at the sight of you and your daughter making pancake batter and giggling in your pajama’s. “Mama!” Emily squeals while running into her arms “good morning honey. It smells so good in here, what are you making?” she asked while kissing her forehead. “Pancakes” Emily says with a big smile.

“Good morning love” she greets you with a kiss on your cheek as you flip the first pancake.

The three of you have breakfast and then get ready for the day. You both had to go to work and since both of you worked at the Avengers compound Emily got to go with you. They added a little daycare for all personnel with kids.

Since you adopted Emily you decided to stop doing field work, instead you’re now one of the combat trainers. Natasha is still an Avenger, but she stopped doing missions where she had to be away from home for more than a week.

A couple hours into work you got a text from Natasha saying that she had to go on a mission later that day, but that she would come say bye before she left. Another few hours passed before Nat showed up at the training facility on the other side of the compound. “Hey babe, we’re about to take off” she says as she pulls you in for a hug. “I should be back on Sunday, I’ll meet you at the Barton’s?” she questions. You planned to spend the weekend at the Barton farm.

“Yes I’ll meet you there” you say as you kiss her goodbye “be safe, I love you Nat”. “Always and I love you too” and with another kiss she’s off.

When you’re done with work you go pick up your daughter. “What do you want for dinner?” you always let her choose what she wanted to eat the day Nat left on a mission. “uhm.. mac and cheese!” you smile at her excitement. “Okay kiddo, let’s go to the store and get some.”

…

The next morning you wake up feeling sick. You slowly get up but immediately feel the urge to puke, so you ran to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and went to Ems room to take her downstairs for breakfast. You decide on some cereal, easy and simple. But after a few bites you stand up and ran over to the bathroom again. The feeling of nausea didn’t seem to be leaving, so you texted Yelena.

y/n: Can you come over? I need your help with Em.

Yelena: I’ll be there in ten. Wanda is coming too.

Shortly after you hear the front door unlock and you feel the tension in your shoulders leave, knowing there is someone to look after Emily.

In the living room Yelena is met with a worried looking Emily. “Hey kiddo, where’s mommy?” she asks as she lifts her up in her arms. “Auntie Lena, mommy’s sick” she points in your direction. “Okay, I’m going to help mommy, how about you go play with Auntie Wanda for a little.”

The girl loved playing with her little Avengers figures and loved it even more when Wanda made them fly for her. So that’s exactly what Wanda did.

Yelena finds you sitting on the floor next to the toilet. “Thank you for coming over Yel” you say with a small smile you managed to give. “Of course y/n, now tell me what’s going on. Can I do anything to help?”

“I just feel so nauseous and at the same time I have this weird craving for cheeseburgers at 9am” you say with a confused look on your face. Yelena looks you up and down “do you think you might be-“ before she can finish her sentence you grab her arm with your eyes wide “do you?”

“Only one way to find out right. I can get you some tests from the store if you want?”

---

Half an hour later you’re sitting on the couch with Wanda on your left and Yelena on the right with Emily in her lap. On the table in front of you the pregnancy test lays facing away from you. In your hand your phone is counting down the minutes until the test is done. You hold both Yelena’s and Wanda’s hands as you’re nervously awaiting the results.

Then the timer goes off, but you’re afraid to look, so you ask Wanda too. She leans forward and grabs the test. The outcome still faced away from you. Your eyes are locked on Wanda. A smile creeps up her face when she tells you the test is positive. Happy tears stream down your face as you slump back into Yelena, releasing all the tension you were holding.

Yelena hugged you tight while congratulation you. After Wanda gave you a hug as well, you turned to your daughter. “Remember when mama and I were telling you about maybe getting a little brother or sister? It’s going to take some time, but here in mommy’s tummy a little sibling is growing.” Emily places a hand on your stomach “in here?” she says while looking at stomach.

“Do you guys have plans this tonight or tomorrow? We’re going to the Barton’s and I want to tell Nat the news there and would love for you to be there.”

---

The four of you arrive at the Barton’s, when you’re done saying your hello’s you ask Laura if the two of you can have a moment while Yelena and Wanda hang out with the kids.

In the kitchen you start “I was wondering if you could make Emily a t-shirt, one like you made for Nathaniel to reveal his name.” Laura gets some juice boxes from the fridge “yeah of course, I still have all the stuff I would need upstairs. What you want it to say?”

“So I would like it to say Big sister” Laura’s jaw drops and she runs over to you. “are you serious? Oh I’m so happy for you! Does Nat know?” she says full of excitement while she’s hugging you.

“I found out this morning, so she doesn’t know yet. I was hoping you could make the shirt and Emily and I could tell her here tomorrow.”

You walk out to hand the kids the juice boxes while Laura goes to make the t-shirt. When Laura gets done she helps Emily put it on to see how it looks.

When she did you heard jet engines coming closer. You quickly grab Emily her jacket and put it on, zipping it up. In case it’s Nat and Clint coming back early.

It was, you hugged Natasha tight while greeting her. Emily runs in for a hug as well, when Natasha puts her down again she asks “Mama can you help take my jacket off?” just like you practiced.

Natasha kneels down to unzips the jacket and takes it off Emily, who is puffing out her chest to make sure her mama would see the shirt. Natasha reads the shirt and looks up at you. You nod with tears in your eyes. Natasha gets up and runs into your arms. You stay like that until both your faces are covered with tears. You put your foreheads together “I can’t believe in nine months Emily won’t be the baby anymore.” Natasha whispers.

Main taglist:

@yellowvxbes ~ @xxromanoffxx ~ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx ~ @wandanatvoid ~ @wandaswifeyforlifey ~ @marvelwomen-simp

Please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my works! :)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #black widow #marvel imagine #marvel #the avengers #natasha x reader #natasha and yelena #yelena belova #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanov x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n

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damnedparker · 3 years ago

Text

transatlanticism

pairing: tasm (andrew garfield) peter parker x reader (gender neutral; no y/n)

warnings: heavy grief talk. sad peter. sad reader. lots of talk about gwen. post tasm2, you're in college. major hurt/comfort for the both of you. fluff but in a sad way? lol. you, peter, and gwen were all close in high school. peter and gwen still dated. you and peter are dating.

summary: the first anniversary of gwen's death has arrived with a cold wind and a blanket of grief for both you and peter. but you have each other for warmth.

i couldn't seem to fall asleep so this came out of that. it's 5am, i did proofread and slightly edit this but otherwise it's pretty raw. my heart hurts and i need to give peter so many hugs.

named after this song. if you wanna listen while you read. i basically wrote this while having it on repeat.

As soon as you woke up and rolled over to find Peter staring blankly at the ceiling, you knew something was wrong. It only came to your sleepy brain once you went to check the time, and your eyes glanced at the date.

It had officially been a year since Gwen had died.

Leading up to the date, Peter had been having more and more off days, so you knew today would be really hard for him. It would be hard for you, too. The three of you had been inseparable in high school, even with Peter and Gwen dating, they never made you the third wheel. And you never felt that way. Maybe Peter got a little too touchy with her when you hung out, but Gwen was always quick to put him in his place.

God, you missed her.

"How long have you been awake, baby?" You spoke softly, not wanting to be too loud. As if it would disrupt the quiet, or break the fragile tension that seemed to hang in the air at the unspoken anniversary the two of you were painfully aware of.

"Couple hours. Couldn't get back to sleep." He never took his eyes off the ceiling, letting out a sigh through his nose. You nodded. After a few moments, you gently, carefully pressed your hand into his where it was lying face up next to his head on the pillow. He didn't pull away, just gave your palm a firm squeeze. To say I know and I'm glad you're here at the same time.

Another few minutes passed as you just watched Peter get lost in his thoughts, the only sign he was still aware of you and his surroundings being his thumb. It was rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand, every so often dragging rhythmically up and down the side of your hand instead.

"You hungry, bub?" You whispered. Peter seemed to consider his feelings for a moment, clearly lost thinking about other things.

"A little," he paused, finally turning his head to look at you. His warm brown eyes, usually crinkled with a sleepy grin in the mornings, were instead still soft, but swam with emotion. It hurt your heart. "Pancakes?"

"Sure," you gave him a weak smile, half-assed but only what you were able to manage in the heavy air. He returned a similar expression. Another squeeze to your hand. You pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before slipping out of the covers to get up. The laminate was cold under your feet, sending a chill up your spine and matching the one that had settled over your heart. You pushed it to the side and made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Wash your face. Wake yourself up a bit.

Routine was supposed to be comforting, right?

Eventually, you arrived in the kitchen and threw together some pancake batter, having memorized how to by now with how Peter seemed to be obsessed with your pancakes. You were thankful that learning to cook was working out, since otherwise the two of you would be drowning in ramen and takeout. Well, more than you already were as two nineteen year old college students living on their own.

As you were locked in a staring contest with the skillet on your tiny little stove, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Peter pressed himself against you from behind, his arms coming to hold you tightly. He left a kiss on your shoulder before mumbling into the fabric of his old t-shirt you had claimed as pajamas months ago.

"Smells good, baby," he took a deep breath, steeling himself in your presence. Something to ground him. Keep him moving forward. "Can I help?"

Breakfast got made in relative silence, the clinking of utensils and sizzling of bacon the soundtrack to the task at hand. You were just glad Peter was up and around. The last time it was this heavy was the first month after her death. He hardly left his bed, and if he wasn't there, he was clinging to you, holding on to your very presence to remind him to keep moving. You both shared your grief, finding comfort and solace in each other than eventually bonded your friendship even closer than before. And a few intense moments later, you supposed you were dating. There was no "will you go out with me?" or any formal question, it just kind of happened. Suddenly, kissing goodbye was normal. Holding hands. Not being able to sleep without the other.

It didn't come without guilt. From both of you. But talk after talk, you both knew in your hearts that it was what you needed. Gwen was special, always would be, especially for Peter. She had a hold on his heart that would never go away, but there was more than enough room for you. He knew his heart would always be held in both of your hands, but he knew it would be safe. No matter how much hurt seeped into it whenever he thought about Gwen. You were always there. And you understood.

The two of you decided to eat on your small balcony, overlooking New York as it woke up for the day. Peter rested his head on your shoulder, a position you would never believe was comfortable considering his height, spending more time poking at his eggs than eating them. It took forty minutes for him to finish his plate, when it usually took about five to scarf down the food. But you didn't mind. Never would. You were glad you got to come to terms with waking up for one of the worst days of the year with him. Just his weight against you settled the pain in your heart to a dull throb. More present than ever, but bandaged up with the knowledge that it would get easier.

As Peter rinsed off the dishes to place in the sink to wash later, you leaned against the counter, watching his hands as he worked. The two of you had the day off, no responsibilities to take care of, so you were trying to figure out what to do so you wouldn't just spend the day sad in bed.

By the time he was finished, you were so caught up in planning you didn't hear the water shut off, or notice Peter wiping his hands dry on a towel. You only noticed when he pressed close to you again, kissing the side of your head. You let his arms come to wrap around you, reaching up to hold the arm of his around your front.

"I need to shower," he seemed to say absent-mindedly, until he directed his next words at you. "Will you...?"

"Of course, Pete." You knew what he meant without saying it. He didn't want to separate from you, even for a moment. Alone with his thoughts, especially today, was a dangerous game he didn't want to play. And part of him felt protective over you, when the ghost of his past failures felt like it was breathing down his neck.

The shower was filled with gentle touches and soft music. Something slow, quiet, and comforting to match the care each of you took to help wash the other's hair, your bodies. Peter began to press kisses across the planes of your skin, chaste, but still loving as ever. Until he got a little too close for comfort with a still soapy part of your shoulder, which left him spitting and scowling. The first laugh, in a day that felt so void of such joy, escaped your lips before you could stifle it. Peter's eyes softened back into that warm, content glow at the sound. Even with the bitter taste of soap lingering in his mouth, he couldn't help but grin. A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, one you could feel from the hand still pressed against it. He chased after your laughter with a kiss, one that made you pull away too soon for his liking, although the giggle that tinkled out of you sent a comforting warmth down to his toes.

"You still taste like soap."

He just grinned and left a wet kiss on your cheek instead.

After your shower, the blanket of grief having been lifted just a bit to give you some air, Peter asked you to go with him to visit Gwen. You agreed, of course. Peter had never gone with you to her grave; the two of you had always visited separately. You knew it was something deeply personal for him, as it was for you, and you had never pushed that boundary because there was no reason to. But this step he was taking made you proud of him, and made yourself feel secure, knowing he trusted you this much to let you in. And you felt immense relief, knowing you wouldn't have to go alone. Visiting alone always left you in tears that seemed to not be able to subside for days. And you're not sure you could get past that on your own anymore. Especially today.

It was cold outside. Overcast. Not freezing, but enough to make your bones ache a little and your body shiver if the breeze hit you right. The cemetery was a bit of a walk from your apartment, sure, but Peter's hand in yours helped make it worth it. He made simple conversation as you went along, every so often swinging your hands just so between the two of you. A habit that not even a somber mood could break. It was comforting.

His soft chocolate curls shifted in the light wind as you waited for the crosswalk together, and you couldn't help but stare. That worried crease between his eyebrows was still prevalent, had been ever since this morning.

"You're staring." He interrupted your train of thought.

"You okay, bug?"

"...Not really." A squeeze to your palm. The crosswalk light changed and the two of you moved along with the handful of other people going the same direction. Peter was quiet for a moment before returning the question to you. "How are you doing?" You just gave him a weak smile in lieu of a reply. He understood immediately, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The two of you reached Gwen's resting place with no troubles, having been there so many times before. You gently placed the flowers you'd brought, ones Peter helped pick out, in front of the stone. Peter pulled you into his side, arm grasping onto your waist under your jacket snugly. You just rested your head against his chest as you both stood there, letting yourself finally remember and grieve. It was as if a brick smashed through the wall you'd been meagerly holding up all day, tears spilling from your eyes and over your cheeks without pause. It wasn't a sob, or a loud cry even, just silence until you took in a heaving breath that Peter took as confirmation you had let go. He had, too, nearly the same time as you, the memories and image of Gwen in his arms, no longer bright and eager and full of quips to give him at any notice. He took a deep breath as the tears rolled down his own face, fully pulling you into an embrace that you both needed. He rested his chin on the top of your head as you both just cried. No words, just sniffles and the rustle of fabric underneath his fingers in an impossible attempt to pull you so much closer. The way he needed.

"I miss her so much, Pete." Your voice came out cracked, broken, and watery. Any words of comfort died in his throat.

"I know," was all that came out. Hoarse. "I do, too." He murmured, burying his nose in your hair. He hugged you even tighter, anything to press you as close as possible to him. Peter didn't know what else to say. Especially not when you looked up at him with such teary eyes, chest heaving, trying to even out your breaths. He hated this. Hated knowing you felt the same pain that lingered in his chest on bad days, and even crept up sometimes on good ones. It was something no one deserved to feel, especially not you. Not you when all you did was try and heal him. Give your heart and bare your soul without any doubt, because you trusted him. He felt the same with you, but he wished he could fix this. He was never any good at helping situations that can't be fixed with webs, spidey sense, math, geometry; not even a hug. It sent him into despair.

You sensed yourself that he was tumbling down that rabbit hole again, and you reached right down to catch him with your hands still at his neck, still in his hair, and your eyes holding his in a desperate, loving gaze. Peter somehow found the ability to form words now, crawl up and out of that hole, although he couldn't help feeling that they were useless.

"Are we ever going to be okay?" His voice barely reached above a whisper, matching the light breeze as it drifted across the graveyard. Shifting the trees, blowing the petals of the flowers so tenderly placed at the grave next to you.

"Mostly," was all you could muster. It was the truth. Grief lightened, it slowly drifted away, but never fully released its claws from your heart. You both knew that. Even just a year let you feel that.

Peter shut his eyes, pushing his forehead against yours in an attempt to be as close as possible. He shielded you from the cold, hands warm underneath your jacket as he clutched you near.

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #ag!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker angst #my fics #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker x you

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myaimistrue · 3 years ago

Text

my gift for the wonderful @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers as part of the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! i hope you love this sweet bit of fluff as much as i loved writing it <3

also available on ao3

Cas has fought celestial battles. He has seen the rise and fall of human civilizations, he has razed cities and healed kings, and he has been the only thing outside of God’s control. Yet somehow, someway, he is being bested by a pan of scrambled eggs.

He lets out a string of curses he would never have even dreamed of fifteen years prior, and carefully carries the smoking pan to the trash can. He dumps as much of the blackened lump as he can unceremoniously into the trash can and sticks the pan, still coated in bits of burned eggs, back on the stove.

Cas is trying to make breakfast to bring to Dean in bed. He’s doing okay, he thinks, except now there just won’t be any eggs. Or pancakes. (Cas actually thought the batter turned out pretty nicely, but when he went to pour the first bit into the pan, his hand slipped—he spent a good twenty minutes cleaning all of that up.) At least there’s still bacon. Shit, the bacon!

Cas rips the oven open, still cursing, and just barely remembers to put an oven mitt on before he pulls the pan out. Thank God, the bacon is on just the right side of burnt, sizzling and crispy but not blackened yet. He breathes a sigh of relief, and sets the pan down carefully beside the other on the stove. Well, Dean’s always enjoyed bacon the most—if breakfast is just that, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Cas figures he can at least make some toast to go with it. Unfortunately, he forgot to buy more bread at the store yesterday, so there are only three pieces left, two of which are end pieces. He toasts them all, gnawing on a thumbnail and trying to convince himself that Dean won’t hate all of this.

Cas has only been back, free from the Empty and fully human, for a month. It’s been a good month, mostly, full of reunions and laughter and slowly but surely figuring things out. He and Dean share a bed now, share a life in a way they never did before, and it’s good. Cas is learning to be human again, and every step of the way, Dean is with him, endlessly patient and gentle with all of it, seemingly happy just to be with him at all. And Cas gets to kiss Dean when he wants, gets to hold his hand and brush his fingertips along the crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes, and every day, he gets to tell Dean he loves him.

The only problem, really, is that Dean hasn’t said it back yet.

Cas knows Dean loves him. It’s clear now—it was clear from the moment he stumbled out of the Empty and into Dean’s trembling arms—and Cas understands that Dean shows it in different ways than words. He shows it in the way he sat with Cas for an hour helping him learn to tie his shoes, the way he makes PB&Js without complaint whenever Cas requests them, the way he slides his hand into Cas’s while driving and runs his thumb back and forth along Cas’s palm. Regardless of whether he says it out loud, Dean loves Cas with such ferocity that Cas sometimes worries he can’t match it.

So Cas is doing what he can: he’s making breakfast in bed.

He arranges the limited food on an old wooden tray, along with two mugs of steaming coffee and a jar of Dean’s favorite apricot jelly that he did remember at the store. Cas studies his handiwork critically, then adds a few napkins (amidst all the change, Dean remains a very messy eater). The end result looks nice, Cas thinks. Better than he worried it might, at least.

Slowly, carefully, Cas makes his way out of the kitchen, and to the bedroom he now shares with Dean. The door is cracked from when Cas left earlier, and he can see the corner of the bed, the way Dean’s pulled all the blankets over to his side. Cas smiles at how familiar that’s become lately—it seems that with the luxury of his own bed, Dean is loath to share the covers; Cas steals them back all night long, but it works out because Dean puts up with his kicking.

He creeps in and sets the tray down on his bedside table. Then, unable to resist, he slips back under the covers and wraps his arms around Dean. Dean stirs somewhat awake, and wiggles back into Cas with a satisfied hum.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean says sleepily. “Where’ve you been? ’S early.”

“Uh, I was…” Cas glances back at breakfast, and he thinks it looks measly now, small and poorly put together. “I made breakfast. For you to eat in bed.”

“...You made me breakfast in bed?”

“Yeah,” Cas says quietly, tucking his face in Dean’s neck, enjoying the closeness but also trying to hide his embarrassment. “Is that okay?”

“What? ‘Course it is.” Dean sounds like he’s smiling, and Cas can see it in his mind’s eye, that dreamy thing that only comes out when Dean is extremely relaxed. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet,” Cas says, testing the way the word feels in his mouth.

“Yeah.” Dean’s still half-asleep, unfiltered and unencumbered in a way he rarely is, even now. “You’re real sweet to me, Cas. Always are.”

“Even though the breakfast isn’t good?”

“What?”

Cas sighs. “I messed up the pancakes and the eggs, and there wasn’t enough bread. It doesn’t look good like it does when you make breakfast.”

“I don’t care about that,” Dean says, a little more awake, his voice sure and strong. “I’d eat concrete if you made it for me.”

At that, Cas feels the knots in his stomach begin to unwind, feels his heartbeat slow to match Dean’s. He kisses the back of Dean’s neck, lips lingering on sleep-warm skin. Dean shifts closer.

“We’d better get up,” Dean murmurs. “Don’t want the coffee to get cold.”

“Or the bacon.”

“You made bacon?” Dean sits straight up in bed, sniffing around in the air like a bloodhound and apparently completely awake. Cas rolls his eyes and flops over into the warm spot he left behind, pulling the covers up and over himself again. “I can’t believe I didn’t smell that. Damn, Cas. You outdid yourself.”

“I don’t know about that,” Cas says. He peeks around the blankets as Dean grabs the tray and settles it over his legs eagerly. “It’s not—”

“Oh hell yeah!” Dean looks down at him with a brilliant smile that seems to make everything else around them go dim. “You got the apricot jelly stuff?”

“Yeah.” One thing Cas had done right. “I picked some up at the store the other day. I know it’s your favorite.”

Inexplicably, Dean’s ears go red. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course.” Cas sits up and studies Dean’s face like he has for years. Dean’s expression is a little difficult to read, but he’s still smiling. Cas feels himself start to smile, too. “So this is okay? You like it?”

“Dude.” Dean looks at him incredulously, but it’s good-natured, fond. “You’re as bad as me. I’m telling you, this is great. I don’t think I’ve ever had breakfast in bed before. And it’s…” Dean goes red again, this time all the way to the apples of his cheeks, but he continues on valiantly. “Nobody’s ever done the shit you do for me. And I’m so fucking lucky, it’s ridiculous, and I…” The hush of their bedroom seems to grow, to expand, as Dean glances at the tray then back at Cas with some huge emotion behind his eyes. “I love you.”

Cas blinks. “You—”

“I love you.” Dean says again.

“You love me,” Cas repeats breathlessly. He knew it would come eventually, he did, but this—this is worth the wait.

“I love you.” Dean laughs like he can’t quite believe it, like he’s so happy it’s ridiculous, it’s impossible. “Holy shit, there it is. I said it. I love you. You made me breakfast in bed, and I fucking love you.”

Cas surges up, unable to hold himself back any longer. He takes Dean’s face in his hands and kisses him as deeply as he can, as deeply as he’s ever wanted to. Dean is surprised at first, but meets Cas in the middle like he always does, takes what Cas gives him and then takes some more. They only separate when the tray is in danger of tipping all of their breakfast over onto the floor.

“Let’s eat first?” Dean says sheepishly. “And drink the coffee?”

Cas’s face hurts from how hard he’s smiling. “Yeah. Okay.”

So they sit side-by-side in bed on top of the covers, sharing bacon and toast, sipping coffee between secret little smiles, and Cas relishes every bit of it, every human moment. He watches Dean chew, enraptured by the image he makes: the sunlight behind his head a halo, the holiness of his soft grey shirt and sleep-mussed hair, and all of it, eclipsed the golden shine of a soul Cas can no longer see but can feel—even in his humanity, he knows he can feel it.

“I love you,” Cas says.

And when Dean says it back, his face is more beautiful than anything in heaven.

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #deancas #destiel #deancas fic #destiel fic #spn #del's writing #offbeattraxx #userzaddy #gardenercas

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cevaannss · 4 years ago

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Just Friends (Reader x Chris Evans)

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Prompt: “you say we are just friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste” but with a happy ending? - Anon

Warnings: R rating, Some sexual content/Smut, Minors DNI. Brief mentions of/allusions to anxiety.

Authors Notes: This is my first prompt fill on here in years, so I might be a little rusty any feedback is appreciated, please let me know if there’s anything I missed warning or tagging. I also didn’t intend for this to be so long but I got a little carried away with it.

When you and Chris first met, you had been young, wide eyed, fresh faced kids. He was barely 20, filming at your old high school, and you a member of the local theatre group were recruited as an extra. You had graduated a year prior and were coming to the end of your gap year, you would be going to college in a few short months. After seeing each other in passing on set, you and Chris had your first conversation in the kraft services trailer, both leaning in to grab the last remaining bagel. After a back and forth of “you take it” “no you” “seriously its okay” you agreed to split it and thus began your friendship.

It was weird, from that first day you had a connection like neither of you had experienced with anyone else. You talked daily, would be each other’s dates to your friends weddings, hung out with each other’s families without the other around. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend many times throughout your years of friendship but that was never what it was about. You’d both dated plenty, often times ending relationships because the person you were seeing couldn’t deal with your closeness to each other. But for you both that was just how it was, and if they couldn’t accept it then they weren’t worth your time. Maybe they were right, you had always had a crush on Chris, and you had a feeling it was reciprocated but you’d always had an understanding, a common ground that you were friends and that’s all you’d ever needed to be.

The first time you had edged into more than friends territory was on Chris’ 37th birthday. You had thrown him a party at his house and he had been a little, okay a lot drunk and while you weren’t far behind him you were still sober enough to take care of his messy ass. After everyone had left you had attempted to clean up a bit, collecting garbage and wiping down the kitchen, the whole time Chris was passed out on his couch. You had managed to wake him enough to get him up and into his bedroom, out of his jeans and shoes and into his bed. You bought him a glass of water and two Advil placing them on his beside table, him grabbing your wrist as you placed the water down, pulling you on top of him into a half hug as he tended to do when he was drunk. He’d always been touchy when he was drunk, letting his hands linger on you longer than normal but it had always been innocent. He mumbled something into your ear, something he’d said a million times, and you replied the same response you had given a million more. But what he said next had changed it all.

“No, not like that”

It stopped you in your tracks because what did he mean not like that. It had to be like that. It had always been like that. This wasn’t how this went. Not for the two of you. You weren’t “those” friends.

“Then like what” you had whispered, panic setting in, soberness hitting you like a Mack truck as you looked back at him. But of course he had fallen asleep again, dead to the world, arm wrapped around your waist as you perched on the edge of his bed. Silence filling the air except for the light snoring he was emitting.

The next morning you had been awoken by clattering coming from the kitchen. Stumbling out of the guest room you walked in to Chris attempting to make breakfast, standing in the door way you watched him, his eyes squinted and slow moving, lingering proof of his previous inebriation. He was making blueberry pancakes, it was a post birthday tradition, but you were usually the one who made them for him on the day after his birthday.

Seeing him standing there sliding another half burnt pancake onto the stack he had started made you smile, he tried bless him, but he was never great in the kitchen. The conversation from last night soon flooded your memory and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“What did you mean”

Chris looked up from pouring more batter into the pan, finally noticing your presence.

“Morning” he mumbled, clearly not fully awake yet “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Last night, in your room, you said you loved me...”

“I always say I love you?” He let out a low chuckle but looked confused, you weren’t sure if he really didn’t remember or if he was just pleading ignorance, usually you were quick to spot if he was lying but this time your radar couldn’t pin it. He turned his attention back to flipping the pancake in the pan.

“Yeah but when I said I love you too bestie... you said ‘No, not like that’ what did you mean?”

His head snapped up, redness filling his cheeks, and it was in that moment that you had known things were changing whether you had wanted them to or not.

“Oh” you said, your breath escaping you, as the realization hit.

“Yeah” he said eyes focused on the pancake burning in the pan.

“Chris...”

He pulled the pan off the stove dumping the last pancake on the plate before placing the pan in the sink letting the cold water run over it before turning back to face you.

“I don’t...what do you want me to say” He started, raising his voice slightly, obviously flustered. “You want me to say I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying? Because I cant okay, I can’t say that. Would I have said it if I were sober? No, probably not...in fact definitely not. But I did and I can’t take it back or just pretend I didn’t because I do love you, I’ve always loved you”

“I’ve always loved you too Chris” you looked up, your eyes connecting with his blue ones.

“Yeah, but not in the same way” he stepped around the counter standing in front of you now, his frame towering over yours.

“Said who”

“What”

“Who said I don’t love you in the same way?”

Chris lunged forward, one hand grasping your waist, the other coming up to cup your face as he leant down, his lips pressing against yours gently. It took you a second to realize what was happening before your hands found their way around his neck pulling him down to you, deepening the kiss.

From that day onward you became the friends who make out occasionally, it wasn’t the right time for you to try and be anything more, yes you loved each other, more deeply than you first understood but your lives were all over the place, you were rarely in the same city for more than a few weeks at a time and Chris’ career was exploding more than ever. It wasn’t the right time. So you’d both take what you could get when you could get it and that was enough for either of you.

It wasn’t until Chris’ 38th birthday a year later that you let things go any further. He had wanted a small celebration, so you had gone to dinner with a few friends, had a few drinks and then headed back to his place to watch a movie. You had been cuddled up on the couch, passing a beer back and forth between you when he placed it down on the coffee table, his hand sliding down your thigh, before pulling you into his lap. You had placed your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands on his shoulders while his trailed down your sides and over your hips before slowly moving to cup your ass. You leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips, him reattaching them as soon as you pulled away, biting your lower lip roughly.

There was something different in the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you, more heat, more passion. Your hands were running down his chest as his grip on your ass tightened, holding you close to him, the intensity taking over. Before you knew it your shirt was on the floor and his hands were sliding up your back as your lips found their way to his neck. There was a tenacity in every movement, every touch, every kiss. His hands finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease and discarding it with your shirt on the floor. He pulled away slightly, his eyes raking over your body perched on top of him, eyes filled with need and want, pushing up to connect your lips once again as you could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans. His large hands sliding to your thighs before standing you both up, your legs wrapping around his waist, hands in his hair.

He stumbled his way into his bedroom laying you down on his bed placing a soft kiss to your lips before hurriedly kissing down the side of your neck and chest, between your breasts and down to your belly button stopping at the waist of your jean shorts, fingers dancing over the button as he looked up at you, eyes questioning as if to get the go ahead, you nodded gently. He slid your shorts and underwear down your thighs, discarding them and grabbing at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before sliding off his jeans and boxers. You let your eyes trail his body as he situated himself between your legs leaning down to kiss you again.

“Are we really gonna do this” he laughed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think so” you blushed, eyes meeting his once again, yours filled with anticipation, his with desire.

When you woke up the next morning, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you didn’t know how to feel, but you knew things were moving into a far more complicated territory.

The two of you went on this way for a while, hanging out with friends and family as if nothing had changed, but when it was just the two of you it was different, intimate. When you were away from each other you facetimed daily, you shared everything, you always had but now it felt like everything you were used to but magnified. When he was gone you missed him, when you were together you felt complete. It was so familiar but so new at the same time. At this point you were dating without the title, which had been fine with you both, you liked what you had together it was easy, simple, no pressure.

In early August you had moved in, the apartment you rented was being sold and Chris insisted it would be helping him, and besides he had said, you were there whenever he was anyway. You had your own room but it was rarely used, most nights falling asleep together in Chris’ bed, both finding you slept better when you were together. It was one of those nights, curled up in his bed, Dodger at your feet, watching a rerun of some sitcom when Chris had asked you if you would go to Toronto with him the next month, his latest film Knives Out was premiering at the film festival there and he had been equal parts excited and nervous about it. You had been taken aback at first, sure you’d visited him on set before and attended a few premieres but this felt different.

“You want me to?” You sat up turning to face him.

“Obviously” he laughed “I’d take you everywhere with me if I could”

“Aww cute” you chuckled pinching his cheek as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I have press a lot of the time, but you could hang out do some sight seeing, then come to the premiere with me?”

“With you...or with you?”

“Whichever one means I get to have you beside me on the red carpet”

“I don’t know Chris...you know that will start a shit storm” you knew how bad the rumours that had started when fans spotted you just attending the premiere for the last Avengers movie had been, and while it really didn’t bother you, you didn’t want it to have an affect on his career.

“Honestly? I don’t care.”

“Okay” you knew he wouldn’t say it but you could tell from his face that he was feeling anxious about it “I’ll come with you, but if you decide any time that you’d rather walk the carpet alone thats okay”

“I won’t” he reassured you, placing a kiss to your temple.

The day of the premiere came around quickly, Chris had been doing press for the past couple of days and you had spent most of your time exploring the cities sights. Chris held true to his word and didn’t change his mind about you walking the carpet with him. He had been a ball of nervous energy since you had woken up, you had left him eating breakfast to go take a shower and start getting ready for your day.

When you came out of the bathroom towel wrapped around you tightly, wet hair loose and ready to be dried you had found him pacing the hotel room in his underwear trying to keep himself busy, it was something that would put most people on edge but you had seen this so many times before with him, always getting in his head, always doubting himself and usually you were able to talk him down easily, but this time you had decided to try a different method.

Calling his name you let go of the grip you had on your towel letting it drop to the ground as he looked up having not previously noticed you had come back into the room, freezing instantly eyeing the curve of your body, a slight smirk across his face.

“What’s this for” he laughed as he closed the gap between you, hands finding your hips as you rested yours on his chest.

“You needed to get out of your head” you whispered as your lent up to kiss him, one hand sliding down his chest and finding its way into his boxers taking his length in your hand and stroking it slowly as you felt it harden beneath your grip. You pecked his lips before dropping to your knees on the plush hotel carpet pulling his boxers down with you. You pumped him a few more times with your hand before letting your tongue lick over his head tasting the saltiness of pre-cum. You took him halfway into your mouth, letting your warmth surround him before pulling off and sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Surrounding him with your mouth once more, this time dropping down deeper and with more intent, you hand finds its way to play with his balls, Chris letting out a breathy moan. You started to bob your head up and down as his hand found its way into your hair guiding you as his hips began to thrust, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement. It didn’t take long before he was warning you that he was about to cum, and cum he did, hard and fast right down your throat as you swallowed the taste of him before letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Chris pulled you up from the floor crashing his mouth into yours, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue as he guided you back to the bed determined to make you cum just as hard as he had.

An hour later you found yourself in the shower for the second time that day, this time joined by Chris. You took your time, him massaging shower gel onto your back, while you reached up lathering and rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. You made sure to gently scrape your fingers along his scalp the way you knew, from many nights laying on the couch fingers curled in his hair as he fell asleep in your arms, relaxed him. Once you got out of the shower you realized Chris’ stylist and the hair and make up artist you had insisted on hiring yourself would be showing up any second.

By the time you were in the car waiting to pull up to the carpet Chris had seemingly relaxed, he held your hand the entire car ride over but you knew he was in a much better place mentally and that the second he got out he would turn on his charm and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand the way he always did. When it was time to get out of the car Chris stepped out first leaning in to offer you his hand as you stepped out behind him, you could here the gasps of fans and media alike, all surprised that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor had bought a date. Chris had pulled you into his side at the photo area, his hand on your hip as you placed yours on his chest posing for the cameras. You had been surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing until that moment, cameras flashing in your face and paparazzi screaming from behind their barricade for you to look in twelve directions at once. It was overwhelming and something you don't think you could ever get fully used to.

“Just breathe” He whispered to you out of the side of his mouth, knowing that you had started to spiral.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Chris’ team moved you along to the press portion of the carpet, you had expected to just stand back with the team while Chris answered questions from reporters from all of the different networks and publications but he had refused to let go of your hand as he approached the first reporter so you found yourself next to him through it all. Of course the first question was about you, and you just knew every headline tomorrow would mention it. It used to frustrate you, how the media would hone in on any female he was seen with, making the story about that and not the hard work he was doing, but you knew they were just trying to sell papers, page click and views.

“So who do you have here with you today” the reporter smiled tilting her head in your direction

“This is my best friend” Chris started before motioning for you to finish, that was one of the many things you had always loved about Chris, he never wanted you to feel like you were in his shadow, you had your own voice and you could use it. You introduced yourself to the reporter who asked a few questions about how you met and then switched to talking about the movie. After a few more interviews that went in a similar fashion you were escorted into the theatre for the screening, Chris took your hand as the two of you sat side by side in the theatre waiting for the film to start. You had enjoyed it a lot and really loved seeing this side of Chris’ acting ability. When the movie was done he joined some of the cast at the front of the theatre for a quick question and answer session for the attendees before you all headed to the after party.

Chris had introduced you to some of his cast mates, and reintroduced you to a few you had met previously during a quick visit to set one afternoon. You had downed a few glasses of champagne by the time you were ready to leave the party, tipsy but not quite drunk. The two of you found your way back to your hotel, and you laughed as you entered the elevator remembering something you had thought about mid interview earlier that day.

“What?” Chris laughed pushing the button for your floor and leaning against the back of the elevator, as you pulled off the heels that you hadn’t realized until that moment were killing your feet.

“Earlier...I almost made the worst comment in the middle of that E! Interview”

“....oh god what were you gonna say?” He chuckled, amused at your tipsy candour.

“Well you introduced me as your friend...”

“Yeah....” Chris laughed, looking at you as if to say that’s what we agreed on.

“Well, you say we are just friends, but friends...friends don’t know the way that you taste” you smirked at him pointedly, both remembering the activities of that morning.

Chris burst out laughing, his full belly laugh, hand coming up to his chest before reach across and pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your nose as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“True” he mumbled before leading you down the hallway to your room, “that is true” he had one hand in yours the other holding your heels that he must have picked up on the way out of the elevator. “Well, how about next time I call you something else?” He started tone playful “This is my fuck buddy, no my slam piece, no thats too informal he laughed, girlfriend? No, hmm” He opened the hotel room door letting you slide in past him as he reached around to flip on the light switch closing the door behind him.

You stopped in the entry way a gasp leaving your lips. The room was filled with flowers. The pink and white Chrysanthemums filled every spare counter space, they had always been your favorite and Chris had sent you some for every birthday without fail. There were fairy lights lining the room and a small cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries by the window.

You turned back to Chris, your heart racing only he wasn’t where you expected....

“How about Wife?” Your eyes connected with his, where he was knelt on the floor behind you an open green velvet ring box in hand.

“What” was all you could get out.

“How about next time I call you my Wife. Marry Me?” Chris said, laughing at the shocked expression on your face “I’ve loved you for almost 20 years now, you’re the best thing in my life, and I never want to be without you...”

“Yes.” You said before you could even really think about it. “Yes!?!” You repeated realizing what was happening as Chris pulled the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger quickly before standing up to kiss you.

You’re not sure how long you stood there in the entry way making out, but when you pulled away you noticed that Chris’ eyes, like yours, were a little damp as you went to run your thumb across his cheek you caught a glimpse of the ring on your hand realizing you had barely even looked at it before it was on your hand. Chris pressed his lips into your hair holding you to his chest as you admired it. It was beautiful, delicate, subtle, it was just the kind of ring you would have chosen for yourself.

“Do you like it” Chris whispered into your hair

“I love it” you smiled up at him, lightly pressing your lips to his

“I love you” he smiled, not letting go of you.

“I love you too bestie” you giggled as he grabbed you around the waist lifting you over his shoulder and tapping your ass lightly as he took off towards the bedroom.

#Chris Evans #Reader x Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #female reader #female reader x Chris evans #Chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #reader insert

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theladyofdeath · 3 years ago

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The Return 2 {The Arrival, Part 2}

Summary: Back at the lake house, ten years later… Collaboration with @snelbz - part 2 to the sequel!

Word Count: 7136

The Arrival Series Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Even ten years later, Elain was still the first one awake whenever they took family vacations. She had woken up with the sun, tried — and failed, miserably — to rouse Azriel from sleep, read her devotions, gotten in some yoga, and started on breakfast, all before she heard the first footstep from anywhere in the house. But soon enough, she heard slow, sleepy steps on the stairs, though they headed towards the back of the house rather than towards the kitchen.

Ruling out Lannan and his voracious appetite, along with Thorn, Bennett, and John, Elain waited, mixing up the pancake batter after she put a large pan of bacon into the oven.

A few minutes later, Scarlett appeared, dragging a still half-asleep Cassian by the hand. He was yawning and had a hair brush, comb and two hair ties in his hand.

“Good morning, you two,” she laughed, pouring Cassian a cup of coffee, which he looked like he desperately needed.

He mumbled something that sounded like a typical morning greeting, while Scarlett gave her a sleepy smile after climbing up onto one of the barstools. “G’morning, Aunt Lainey. Are we having pancakes for breakfast?”

“And bacon,” she replied, smiling at her youngest niece. Layla and Scarlett had sleepovers all the time, being the two youngest and close in age.

Scarlett grinned and turned to Cassian. “Remember, I want two braids, daddy, not just one.”

He nodded, still drinking his coffee, but handed her the brush to start detangling her long, waist-length hair.

“Nesta not up yet?” Elain chuckled, pouring some of the batter into the hot pan.

“I like it better when daddy braids my hair. Mommy makes it too fancy,” Scarlett replied, scrunching up her nose.

“That’s right,” Cassian mumbled, running his fingers through his youngest’s hair. “Dad keeps the braids messy.”

Elain laughed quietly as she continued to make breakfast. “Well, if you have the magic touch, I may make you braid Layla’s hair. She always complains when I do it, and the art of braiding isn’t exactly one of Azriel’s many talents.”

“We don’t need to hear about Azriel’s many talents,” Cassian warned.

Elain jabbed him in the ribs, which only made Cassian laugh as he began to braid his daughter's hair.

“Is Thorn going back to jail today?” Scarlett asked.

Cassian sighed, Scarlett wincing as he made sure his braid was tight. “No, Thorn’s not going back to jail, ever.”

The ten-year-old rolled her eyes. “Never say never, daddy.”

Elain chuckled as she set a giant mountain of pancakes on the island. “Give your brother a break. He’s a good boy.”

“No, he’s not,” Scarlett said, earning a snap from Cassian for her to stay still while he worked. “He swears too much and he smells yucky.”

“All teenage boys swear too much and smell yucky,” Cassian promised. “Just wait until you’re a teenager and you like those yucky boys.”

“I’m not ever going to like boys,” Scarlett promised. “I’m going to stay single and awesome forever.”

Elain shook her head, humored, as she watched her niece.

“That would make daddy very happy and I’m holding you to it,” he replied, tying the elastic around the end of the braid and starting on the second.

“Aunt Lainey, does Luna like smelly teenage boys?” Scarlett asked, looking up at her.

Luna was Scarlett’s idol. Everything the girl did, the younger one was right behind, whether it was a trend, style or even just following her around. And Luna handled it well, for a sixteen-year-old girl. She never complained, even when her own baby sister was in tow. Cassian was sure that because she was a carbon-copy of Elain, right down to the soft, caramel colored eyes.

Elain smirked as she set a plate down in front of Scarlett, a small stack of pancakes on top of it. She pulled the bacon out of the oven before replying. “Oh, she does. And Uncle Az is not happy about it.”

“Isn’t happy about what?” The man in question asked as he rounded the corner, heading straight for the coffee pot. He paused to kiss Elain’s cheek. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Luna Bug’s boyfriend,” Cassian smirked, watching as Azriel’s good mood deflated.

“We don’t talk about him,” Azriel said, quietly, as he filled his mug. “And definitely not this early in the morning.”

“He has a name,” Elain said, simply. “And you should call him by it.”

“The name I have for him shouldn’t be said around Scar,” Azriel said, pausing as he passed her to kiss the top of his niece’s head.

“He’s a good kid,” Elain said, rolling her eyes. “And I think Luna and Lachlan are good for each other.”

“Lachlan,” Scarlett repeated. “I like that name.”

Cassian’s grin only widened as he looked up at Azriel, who sat at the table, sipping from his mug.

“Just wait until she thinks she’s old enough to date,” Azriel said, gesturing to Scarlett.

“Oh no,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “She’s already informed me that she’s staying single and awesome forever, so.”

Azriel snorted as the twins came into the room, followed by John, whose hair was sticking up in every which direction.

“Mom says she’s taking a shower then she’ll be out to help make breakfast,” John said, yawning as he flicked Olive on the back of the ear. She flipped him off, which earned a gasp from Scarlett and a laugh from Cassian.

“No need, your Aunt has been up since the crack of dawn,” Azriel said, nodding toward the food. “Eat up.”

John didn’t need to be told twice. At fourteen, he was eating more than nearly everyone else - followed closely by his older boy cousins, who were, no doubt, still sound asleep.

Lily was still mortified by her new haircut, but thanks to a French braid of some sort, it could barely be noticed. She and Olive got a couple of pancakes each and talked to each other quietly.

Once Scarlett’s hair was finished, Cassian got his own breakfast, splashing a bit of whiskey into Azriel’s coffee and his own when he thought no one was looking, and sat down at the table. Mid bite, his chewing slowed down as he looked at Olive. “Liv, I think you still have makeup from yesterday on. You’ll probably want to get that off before we go on the boat.”

She rolled her dark, lined eyes. “It’s Olive, Uncle Cass, and it’s waterproof eyeliner. I’ll be fine.”

Lily, fresh faced, shook her head. “She’s too cool to be seen without her makeup anymore.”

Elain was chuckling at the stove as the two girls quietly bickered and Cassian was immediately grateful he only had one daughter.

“What’re we doing today?” John asked, his mouth full.

“Ask when your mouth isn’t full and I’ll tell you,” Cassian said, sitting next to his middle child.

“Yeah, John, have some manners.” Thorn entered the room, grumpy as hell, the first thing out of his mouth directed at his younger brother.

“Says the asshole that spent yesterday in jail,” John muttered, mouth still full.

“Watch your mouth,” Cassian snapped, his mouth also full.

Azriel just shook his head, watching the three of them. He looked at Scarlett. “How do you and your mom handle those three?”

Scarlett shrugged as she hopped off her stool. With a piece of bacon in each hand, she said, “We stick together. Girl power.”

Elain laughed, winking at her niece as she fled from the room.

Layla appeared a minute later, on Rhysand’s back, wide-eyed and chipper. Bennett was soon behind, and Cassian snorted.

“How is it that the kids from your side are the ones still asleep when Elain is one of the first ones up?” he asked, looking at Azriel.

“Luna’s probably awake and talking to-.”

“If you say his name again, I’ll lose my appetite, then my mood will be destroyed for the rest of the day,” Azriel said, holding up his hand and looking at his wife.

“Lachlan is so sweet though,” Lily said, sighing, and Olive nodded, which earned them a look from both Rhys and Azriel.

“Teenage boys aren’t sweet,” Rhys told his daughters. “They’re crafty, lying, disgusting creatures.”

Lily and Olive looked at Thorn and Bennett, both shoveling food into their mouths. Their brother responded. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say he’s wrong?” Olive asked, looking between them.

“No, because then I’d be lying and proving him right,” Bennett replied.

“And we’re pretty disgusting,” Thorn added, shoving an entire piece of bacon into his mouth in two bites. Bennett nodded and was getting up for seconds when Rhys stopped him.

“Save some food for your mothers, please,” he said. “After mom and Aunt Nesta eat, you can get more.”

Layla quietly approached Cassian and tapped on his shoulder, asking if he could braid her hair, too. He gave Elain a knowing look, but picked Layla up and set her in Scarlett’s vacated seat. “Only cause you’re the cutest one here,” he whispered, so only she could hear. She giggled and nodded, sitting still as he went to work.

Nesta and Feyre made their way into the kitchen soon after, with Azriel going to retrieve Lannan, who was still sleeping like the dead. Luna was the last to arrive, claiming she’d slept in, too.

“Y’all wanna make some sandwiches for the boat while we get everything ready to go?”

Cassian asked Nesta and his sister-in-laws.

“You don’t want to come back for lunch?” Nesta asked. “You want to keep nine kids on a boat all day?”

He shrugged. “They'll be swimming and wakeboarding and tubing. They’ll be busy. Plus Thorn and Bennett are taking out the jet skis.”

Thorn raised his hand.

Bennett gave him a high-five.

John frowned. “Why can’t I take one of the jet skis?”

“Because we’re older,” Thorn said, simply.

“That’s not fair,” John argued. “What kind of argument is that?”

“Thorn and Bennett are taking the jet-skis,” Cassian said, his voice holding no room for argument. “You can take one tomorrow.”

“Ooooh, me too,” Luna said. “I call one for tomorrow.”

Thorn rolled his eyes, the only sign that he was annoyed.

The second that Nesta and Feyre sat down with their breakfasts, Thorn, Bennett, and John were on their feet, fighting for what was left.

“Animals,” Lily scoffed, taking Olive by the elbow and leading her down the hall to their room to get ready.

Thirty minutes and almost just as many sandwiches later, everyone was loading onto the boat, save for Thorn and Bennett who took off towards the jet-skis as soon as they were given the okay. After strict instructions to stay within sight of the parents, they were firing them up and taking off, Cassian starting the boat and following behind.

Elain fell into the seat at the front with her oldest daughter, wrapping an arm around her as the wind whipped back their hair. “What’s Lachlan doing this weekend?”

Her knees were tucked under her chin and she looked out over the passing water. “He and his parents went to Orynth. They’re touring a college there, but he doesn’t want to be that far from home.”

“Far from home or far from you?” Elain asked, nudging her slightly.

Luna blushed. “Both.”

Lachlan was a year older than Luna, so college was much more prevalent on his mind, as a senior. Or it should have been, had Luna not already had her five-year-plan made, starting with attending the University of Velaris and ending with a degree in business and communications, an internship under her belt and an entry-level position in a company she could grow at.

“Sounds serious,” Elain said.

“Too serious,” Azriel muttered, and both of them turned around, unaware that Azriel was just on the other side. Elain lifted a brow. “What? She’s sixteen.”

“Exactly,” Luna said, crossing her arms. “I’m not a child anymore, dad.”

Azriel didn’t respond. He simply walked to the cooler, opened a beer, and sat next to Rhysand.

“Ignore him,” Elain said, her arm around Luna. “He’ll come around.”

“Doubtful,” Luna muttered.

“You’re the oldest girl in the family,” Feyre said, as she took the seat on her other side. “You finding a boyfriend is uncharted territory.”

“It’s just not fair,” she said, simply. “Thorn and Ben have had tons of girlfriends, since middle school, and no one has ever batted an eye. I get my first serious boyfriend, and dad…” She shook her head as she glanced at Azriel, who was sipping his beer with a rigid jaw. “It’s like I’m a criminal or something.”

“And you weren’t even the one in jail,” John muttered, gazing out over the water.

Cassian hit him upside the back of the head.

“Dad will come around,” Elain promised again.

“Maybe we should keep the boyfriend talk to a minimum,” Luna muttered. “At least for this weekend.”

“Why?” Feyre asked, propping her feet up in the empty second chair and giving her niece a comforting smile. “He’s going to have to get used to you dating eventually. And Lachlan is very sweet. You could’ve ended up with someone like your Uncle Cassian. He’ll get used to you having a boyfriend. I promise.”

Cassian brought the boat to a stop, effectively ending the conversation and started unloading the wakeboarding equipment.

“Can we ride tubes first, Uncle Cass?” Lily asked. “Tubing always gets saved for last and we never have much time thanks to you guys wakeboarding for hours.”

He was about to protest, even though he knew she was right, even with the unnecessary eye rolling, but Nesta said, “I think starting with tubing is a good idea. Let those two expend some of their energy before they board and try to do tricks they can’t accomplish. No trips to the hospital this year.”

The year before, there had been two trips to the hospital. One for Bennett, who’d gotten a concussion, and one for Cassian…who had thrown out his back, thanks to thinking he was still youthful enough to complete some of the tricks he had attempted.

He wasn’t.

This year, they were having none of that.

“Fine,” Cassian sighed. “Get out the tubes.”

The kids let out a round of excited yells, and up ahead, Bennett and Thorn were riding circles around each other.

Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel took turns driving, seeing which of the kids they could throw off their tubes. Even Luna almost let out a curse - almost, but not quite.

Once they were done, everyone grabbed a sandwich as the wakeboarding began. Thorn was the first to go, which meant that John got his jetski, so everyone was happy.

At least until Thorn wiped out, then he was just pissed.

When everyone was worn out, Cassian brought the boat back to the dock, and one by one, everyone got off to slowly make their way back up to the house.

Rhysand was the last to get off, carrying a sleeping Layla up the hill. He laid his niece down in her bed before fighting everyone for one of the two showers.

“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” He asked as he stepped into the kitchen, fighting off a yawn.

Nesta was doing the same and Elain chuckled. “Seems like everyone could use some downtime. Why don’t we let the kids do their thing, take naps if they want, and we’ll start dinner around five-thirty?”

“A nap sounds awesome,” Nesta said, wrapping her arms around Cassian’s waist and laying her head on his chest. From the look on his face, he didn’t think she meant it literally. From the look on hers, she did.

And so everyone went their separate ways. Most of the kids ended up in the bonus room, either playing Xbox or entertaining themselves in someway. Ironically, only Luna and Lannan decided to lay down for naps, and Nesta, of course.

Elain’s alarm on her phone went off, letting her know it was five-thirty. She and Azriel had taken advantage of their alone time and were now just laying in bed together, although Azriel it seemed was half-asleep now that it was time to get up.

She looked up at him, eyes closed and lips parted and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He responded by rolling his head to the side, looking for her lips without opening his eyes. She kissed him again, but pulled away when his tongue brushed against her bottom lip.

Laughing softly, she got out of bed and started getting dressed. Azriel watched her with sleepy eyes. “I’m going to get Feyre so we can start making tacos. Will you get the kids up around six?”

He nodded, tucking an arm behind his head and closing his eyes again. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“That’s asking a lot,” he replied, catching her before she could stand up, twining his fingers into her hair. “You wore me out.”

“Hush,” she said, blushing, and kissed him again before slipping out the door.

He heard a knock on a door down the hall and then Feyre’s voice joined Elain’s. The word daddy was unmistakable as they walked away and he couldn’t help but chuckle even as he blushed and covered his face with Elain’s pillow.

Once the smell of delicious food cooking started wagging towards their room, he decided it was time to get up, get dressed, and wake up his kids, knowing it’d be time to eat soon.

He stopped off in the boy’s room first, knowing Lannan would be the easiest to rouse. All he had to say was tacos, and his son was up and hurrying downstairs to help in any way he could, if it meant he could eat quicker.

Layla was still fast asleep in the room she and Scarlett shared, her braid messy from sleep. Getting her up was easy enough. She didn’t require bribery or any tricks, she liked to do as she was told. He just had to tell her that mama needed help in the kitchen and she slipped off to do what she could.

Luna’s room was at the end of the hall. She shared a room with the twins, but they were upstairs and already being told to go to the kitchen, which meant she surely was sound asleep.

Azriel didn’t bother knocking before he opened the door. “Hey, dinner’s-.”

“Fuck, Luna-.”

Luna dropped her phone and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes went wide in horror. “Dad!”

Azriel quickly shut the door, his hand remaining on the knob for a moment before he dropped it, and slowly walked down the hall, toward the kitchen.

He had not seen much, considering Luna had been under the blankets, but he knew enough about technology and the teenage mind to know exactly what had been going on.

Azriel was going to be sick.

He hadn’t even noticed the chatter going on in the kitchen as he entered.

Rhysand was in the middle of a sentence, even though Azriel had no idea what he had been saying, when Azriel said, “Elain, a word.”

The tone of his voice must’ve created alarm, because the room went quiet. Without noticing if Elain was following, Azriel walked into the living room.

He sat back on the couch, nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach.

Elain timidly entered a moment later. “You okay, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse,” he said, without any hesitation. “So much worse.”

He quickly and concisely explained what he’d seen, which thankfully wasn’t much, but he knew. Oh, gods, he knew.

He heard the male voice on the other side of the video call, recognized it and hated it all the same, especially the way that voice had said his daughter’s name.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Elain asked, shaking her head as she rubbed at a spot between her eyes.

“I thought she’d be asleep!” He defended, throwing his hands up.

“She’s a teenage girl, Az,” she sighed. “Regardless, you should have knocked. She could have been changing.”

“I wish she would’ve been!” His cheeks were on fire. “That would’ve been better than…that.”

Elain stood. “I’ll go get her. Why don’t you and the boys go eat on the deck? Some fresh air might help.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Do not be mad at her,” she added before leaving the room. “It’s not her fault you didn’t knock.”

“She shouldn’t be having video sex with her boyfriend while we’re on a family vacation,” he whispered, shooting to his feet.

“At least she didn’t get arrested having sex in the back of a truck. So this isn’t the worst thing that could have happened on this vacation,” Elain replied.

“No,” he said, heading towards the kitchen to get a plate of food. “It’s the worst thing that could have happened to me, period.”

Elain rolled her eyes, watching as Azriel stormed into the kitchen and out of sight.

Calmly, she walked down to the end of the hall and knocked on the last door.

She could hear Luna sniffling. “Yeah?”

“It’s mom,” Elain said, leaning against the door. “Can I come in?”

A second passed. “Yes.”

Elain opened the door to find Luna sitting up on her bed, wearing a hoodie and wrapped in a blanket, as if she couldn’t get enough clothes onto her body. Her eyes were red and puffy.

Elain sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her daughter. “Care to tell me your side of the story?”

Luna shook her head, then looked at her hands as she said, “We were just facetime-ing. It got...slightly intimate, nothing was even really going on, and then dad walked in.” Her face fell into her hands. “Too much was going on for him to walk in on, though, I’ll tell you that. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I just hung up. Lachlan probably thinks that I just lost connection.”

Elain huffed through her nose. “Look, I don’t know exactly what your father saw, he couldn’t exactly get the words out-.”

“Me, topless, showing my boyfriend my boobs,” Luna supplied, her face still in her hands. “I mean, I was mostly under the blankets, but… I think he got the point.”

Elain had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Usually, she wouldn’t find things so funny, but this was Luna. Luna, who never did anything wrong. The fact that she was just like every other teenage girl, that she was just like Elain and her sisters at sixteen, was…almost refreshing.

She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Your dad is having a hard time processing that his little girl isn’t so little anymore.”

“That’s an understatement,” she scoffed. “This is worse than my first period, first bra and first date combined.”

Elain couldn’t stop her chuckle again. “I think we’re probably gonna spend the rest of the evening separated. We’re gonna do our thing and the boys will do theirs. Are you hungry?”

Luna shrugged, fiddling with her phone case.

“You sure? Aunt Feyre and I made tacos.”

Looking up at her, eyes still puffy and blush still on her cheeks, Luna said, “I guess I could eat.”

“Good,” Elain said, kissing her forehead and taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “I know you’re a smart girl, and I know you care about Lachlan. But if and when things move past just showing him your boobs on FaceTime, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Luna’s cheeks were blood red again and she shook her head. “I haven’t… we haven’t… I’m still a virgin, mom.”

Elain stifled her laughter again. “I know you are, sweetie. All I’m asking is that whenever the time comes, promise me you’ll use that beautiful brain of yours and don’t let hormones get in the way. And when we get home, we can talk about birth control if you want to.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. “You’d…let me get on the pill? What about dad? He’d lose it if he found out.”

“If it means you’re being smart and safe, yes.” Elain smiled, and took her daughter’s hand. “And don’t worry about your father. I can handle him.”

“He’s awfully dramatic,” Luna mumbled. “He’s just passionate,” Elain said, correcting her. “Which means he loves as fiercely as he loses it.”

Luna chuckled, and nodded. “Let me text Lachlan about why I hung up so suddenly, then I’ll be out.”

Elain kissed Luna’s forehead before hopping off of the bed. “I’ll make you a plate of tacos.”

“Thanks, mom,” Luna said, as Elain walked out, and Elain knew it was for much more than the food.

As she walked back into the kitchen, all of the boys were out on the back porch, leaving the girls inside.

“We’re thinking about having a girls night,” Feyre said, as Elain approached. “Chick flicks, painting our nails, and mud masks?”

“I’m here for it,” Elain said. “Luna will be, too.”

Quietly, Feyre asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Elain promised, and went to making Luna her plate of food. She came out a minute later, and cleared her entire plate in under five minutes.

When they were done, Legally Blonde was being set up in the living room, and Nesta was carrying out a basket of nail polish.

“Looks like the boys are going for a boat ride,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “Hopefully Cass isn’t driving. He can’t drive in the dark. I swear he needs glasses but he’s too stubborn to go get his eyes checked.”

“He’s in denial about getting old, Rhys was the same way,” Feyre sighed, searching through the basket for a color she liked. “But I finally convinced him to go a couple months back.

Now it’s like I have a sexy Clark Kent walking around my house in the evenings.”

“How’d you do that?” Elain asking, carrying wine glasses and a chilled bottle into the room.

The girls were all focused on the huge box of makeup Lily and Olive had brought down from the bonus room, sitting around it and begging Luna to do their makeup. Even Olive was willing to remove her thick eyeliner if it meant Luna would work her magic on her eyebrows.

“I can be very…persuasive,” she replied, filling her glass and taking a sip.

Nesta reached for the remote and turned the movie up to give their conversation a semblance of privacy, turning her attention to her sister. She whispered, “Spill.”

Feyre was blushing, clearly not expecting her sisters to jump on this particular topic. She settled back into the couch cushions and took a much larger drink of her wine. “I…let him go where no man has gone before.”

“What, like, Victoria’s Secret?” Elain asked, brow furrowed in confusion, but from the smirk on Nesta’s face, she knew exactly what Feyre meant.

“No, Lainey, not like Victoria’s Secret,” Nesta said, voice low enough that the kids couldn’t hear them over the movie. “She let him get in her ass.”

Elain blinked once and said, “Oh,” before going back to looking through the nail polish basket.

Feyre and Nesta looked at each other, before looking back at Elain.

Nesta whispered, “That was a very casual Oh.”

Shrugging, Elain glanced up at them, still looking through the basket. “That’s nothing new for us.”

Feyre’s brows shot up as Nesta leaned forward. “Okay, for the two quietest and most private in this family…you two have one hell of a sex life.”

Elain laughed, quietly, as she picked out a soft lavender nail polish. “What? We’ve always liked to keep each other…intrigued…in the bedroom.”

“And was daddy the one to introduce this…act?” Feyre asked, still dumbfounded.

Elain shrugged, falling back on the couch. “We thought we’d give it a try one day, and it was…nice.”

“Nice?” Nesta repeated.

“It’s not for everyone, but…yeah, it was nice,” Elain said. “Anyway, someone paint my right hand, please. My left is too shaky.”

Nesta did as her sister asked, even though Feyre was still staring at her, minutes later. It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when Luna excused herself to walk into the kitchen, that Nesta excused herself to follow after.

When she walked into the kitchen, Luna was staring out the back door to where the boys were tossing a football around the campfire.

“You okay, Lunabug?” Nesta asked, referring to that old nickname from her childhood that they all still used.

Luna nodded. “Yeah, just…tired, I guess. I think I may head to bed early tonight.”

“I get that, it was a big day,” Nesta smiled, and hugged her eldest niece. “Don’t worry about your dad. I’m sure Uncle Cass and Uncle Rhys have been calming him down all night.”

“I know, I know,” Luna sighed, burying her face in her aunt’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to ever look him in the eye again though? He didn’t see anything, but he knew what was happening. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“You’re almost an adult, sweet girl,” Nesta said, tipping her chin back so she kept her head high. “Sooner or later, your dad is going to have to accept that.”

Luna nodded and hugged her aunt again. Nesta hugged her tighter and said, “How do you think I feel right now? My adult son got caught having sex in public yesterday.” She felt Luna laugh and pulled back to rest her hand against her cheek. “It could be worse. I’m sure you’re embarrassed, but this will pass, okay? Your dad is overbearing because he loves you.”

Luna’s smile was small, but Nesta could tell it was genuine. “I know. Thank you, Aunt Nes.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

With a goodnight, Luna was off to the room, Layla and Scarlett only a few minutes behind her. The twins, stubborn as always, said they weren’t tired, yet were asleep on the floor within ten minutes.

“Another drink, ladies?” Feyre asked, bringing out a new wine glass as she fell on the couch between her sisters.

“Please,” Elain begged, holding out her glass.

Nesta didn’t protest either as the three sisters finished the movie, drinking the night away.

“Fuck, the twins are only two years younger.”

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel were lying in the grass, a beer in their hands, staring up at the stars as their boys swam in the water, the firelight the only thing allowing them any guidance.

“I just… I knew this day was coming,” Azriel said, his words slightly slurred. “I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t ready for it.”

“Can we ever be ready for it?” Cassian asked. “Boys…they’re easy. But, girls…” Cassian shook his head. “We’re never going to be ready for anything they put us through.”

“I want to find this kid… And-.”

“And what?” Rhysand asked, laughing as he cut off Azriel. “You act like you weren’t a teenager once.”

“I was,” Azriel confessed, then sighed. “But…that was me…this is…my daughter.”

“Have you met his parents yet?” Cassian asked, sitting up and bracing his elbows on his knees. “Once we met Marion’s parents, we felt way better. Mostly because we know Lorcan Salvaterre has the capability to kick Thorn’s ass, and Thorn does, too. But it also showed us Marion is a good girl. She comes from a good family, who loves and cares for her just as much as we do Thorn.”

“We’ve met his mom,” Azriel admitted, staring at stars still. “Or Lainey has, I haven’t. But she said she was sweet. Granted, she says Lachlan is sweet, too. She thinks everyone is sweet, cause she’s sweet.”

“You guys should try to all go to dinner when we get back to Velaris,” Cass suggested, finishing his beer. He tossed his empty can into the pile by the fire. “Meet his parents, get a vibe for them, shake the kid’s hand hard enough to leave an impression. I’m sure they love Luna, just like we love Marion.”

“Them loving Luna isn’t the point,” Azriel began, quietly. “Everyone loves Luna. The problem is…is that I was a teenage boy once, and I know exactly what this kid wants.”

“You also met Elain when you were a teenager,” Rhysand pointed out. “And, you started dating when you were teenagers. You’re telling me that the only reason you wanted to be with Elain was for sex?”

Azriel paused. Then answered, shortly, “No.”

“Then maybe this kid wants more than that, too,” Cassian said.

“But he wants the other thing, too,” Azriel protested, then groaned, flipping over until his face was buried in the grass.

“You can’t make her a nun,” Cassian said, Rhysand grinning on Azriel’s other side. “You can’t keep it from happening. Teach her to be safe, and she’ll be fine.”

Azriel’s voice was muffled by the ground. “Why are you being the reasonable one right now?”

“Because I’ve also been a teenage boy who loved a girl. Because I currently have a teenage boy who loves a girl, even if he makes stupid decisions with her sometimes,” he replied. “But I have to let him make those decisions on his own so he can learn. Luna is smart, Az. She’ll make good choices, you just have to let her make them.”

He grumbled something into the grass that his brothers couldn’t hear and Rhysand ruffled the back of his hair before standing.

“It’s getting late, the kids need to get to bed.”

They called the boys out of the water, handing out towels and dousing the fire as they headed up towards the house.

“Bennett and I can carry the beers out to the garage,” Thorn said, and Cassian’s eyes immediately met Rhysand’s amused state.

“Good try,” he chuckled.

Rhys added, “You can leave them on the kitchen counter.”

The boys mumbled something under their breath, but did as they were told and they all went off to get changed and get in bed.

They found their wives on the couch, wine drunk and giggly, with the twins asleep on the floor.

“Everyone else in bed?” Cassian asked, sitting on the arm of the couch by Nesta. She laid her head against his thigh and nodded.

Feyre inclined her head to her daughters on the floor in front of them. “These two insisted they weren’t tired.”

Rhysand snorted. “I see that.”

Azriel fell onto the couch by Elain while Rhys gently woke the twins and sent them to bed.

Elain looked up at him and chuckled, quietly, as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. “You’re drunk.”

“I am not,” he lied.

“Your eyes are glazed,” she whispered, “and I could barely make sense of the three words that just came out of your mouth.”

“He only had…” Cassian cocked his head to the side, counting on his fingers. “Yeah, I lost count. How many beers you have there, Az?”

Azriel mumbled something incomprehensible and sighed.

Cassian chuckled as he stood, and gathered Nesta in his arms before walking down the hall, toward their bedroom.

Feyre followed, carrying the empty wine glasses into the kitchen.

Elain shook her head as Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut, thanks to her fingertips gently rubbing at his head. A moment later, she thought he may have fallen asleep, but then he said, “I’m scared for her.”

Elain’s fingers slowed, but she nodded. “Luna’s smart-.”

“But teenage boys aren’t,” Azriel said, opening his eyes to meet his wife’s. “I know that Luna’s smart. And everyone can keep telling me how smart she is, but it doesn’t make me trust any guy that she’ll ever be with any more. Men are idiots. And the last thing I want is for my baby to be heartbroken, crying over some dick that didn’t deserve her in the first place.” Elain’s eyes softened, but Azriel went on, “And the fact that they’re getting more….intimate, only means that Luna’s starting to trust him and like him more. And that scares me.”

“I know,” Elain said, quietly, crawling onto his lap and straddling his waist. Her forehead fell against his as his eyes fell shut, once again. “She spent the entire night thinking she’d disappointed you.”

“She didn’t disappoint me,” Azriel said, quietly, and Elain knew that he meant it. And as she pulled back, she recognized the look that was creeping into his hazel eyes: guilt.

“She’s probably still awake if you want to go talk to her,” Elain said.

Azriel hesitated, then nodded. After Elain crawled off of him, he waited a moment before pushing himself up and began to amble his way down the hall, until he reached the last door on the left.

This time, he knocked.

He waited, and when there was no response, he knocked again, only to find no response. He cracked open the door and peeked inside. The lights were off, and Luna was sound asleep, the hood of her hoodie pulled over her dark hair, and the fan across the room on high, pointed right at her.

He laughed quietly at the sight.

Yeah, she was growing up, but sound asleep, she looked like she always had: mouth hanging open, one hand tossed behind her head. She used to fall asleep on him like that, and he’d have to carry her to bed and tuck her in. That’s how she would always be to him: that little girl whose only man in her life was her daddy.

Except that’s not how it was, not anymore.

Azriel walked to her bedside and leaned down to kiss her forehead before pulling her blanket up higher around her. “Night, Lunabug.”

As he headed back for her door, he heard, “Dad?”

He spun around, that alcohol catching up with him and nearly knocking himself over, thanks to the quick motion. He grabbed the doorframe to steady himself. “I…knocked this time.”

Luna rolled over and looked at him. Thanks to the light in the hallway streaming in, he could see the hurt in her light brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel’s shoulders sagged as he made his way back into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. He ran a hand through his hair before saying, “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry. You’re growing up, and that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do, but I’m still figuring out how to raise a young woman and not a little girl.”

Luna nodded, but said nothing.

“It’s hard, though,” he began, honestly. “When I was seventeen, Luna, I had no idea how to treat girls. I went on a lot of dates, and…did a lot of things on those dates…and, if I’m being honest with you, not a lot of those things meant anything to me other than what I got out of them at that moment.” He looked at Luna. “It wasn’t until I started dating your mom that I got some sense knocked into me.”

She chuckled at that.

“But, I also know that Lachlan is not me,” Azriel continued. “I also know that I don’t know a lot about him. So, maybe next week we can have him and his parents over for dinner, and I can start to get to know him, if he means that much to you.”

He didn’t need any light in the room to see the tears lining her eyes. “I would like that.”

“Then you talk to him, I’ll talk to mom, and we’ll make it happen, okay?” She nodded, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Lunabug. I love you.”

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he was glad for what little balance he still had, so he didn’t topple over on her. “I love you, too, daddy.”

Wrapping an arm around her, he held her close, not letting her go until he felt her arms getting heavier. Until he carefully settled her back into the bed, tucking the covers around her, but not too tight, because she hated feeling constricted, and pushed the hoodie back just a bit to see her sleeping face.

She looked so much like her mother while she was asleep.

Quietly, carefully, he slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

He could tell the television and lights had been shut off in the living room, so he aimed for their bedroom instead, and found Elain sleepily beneath the covers herself. He stripped off his shirt and shorts, wearing just a pair of boxer-briefs and slid into bed beside her, aware that he probably smelled like a bar. Elain didn’t complain though, she just laid her head on his chest and slung an arm and leg over his body.

“How’d it go?” She asked into the darkness.

“Good. She was asleep, and I accidentally woke her up, but it’s okay. We needed to talk,” he admitted. He paused for a second before asking,

“Do you have Lachlan’s parents numbers?”

Lifting her head, Elain looked at him in the moonlight. “We are not talking to them about this at midnight, Azriel.”

“No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing a calming hand up and down her arm. “I was thinking it might be nice to have them over for dinner one night next week, all of them. Lachlan, Aelin and Rowan.”

Elain lifted a brow. “You’re serious.”

Azriel blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“Because you’re drunk and you just spent the entire day throwing a hissy fit,” Elain mumbled, nuzzling into his neck.

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Damn, you’re mean.”

Elain huffed then propped herself up on an elbow. “I’m serious. If they come over, you need to be nice.”

Azriel scoffed, his hand sliding down her back then up her shirt. “I’m always nice.”

“No mean-mugging the kid,” Elain went on. “You will ask him about his likes and dislikes, and you will not scare him shitless.”

Azriel sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I promise.”

“And you will offer Rowan some of your good whiskey,” Elain said.

Azriel looked pointedly at his wife. “There’s no need to get carried away.”

Elain grinned as she leaned down and pressed her mouth softly against his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.

He was sound asleep before Elain could even lay back down, and snuggle up to him beneath the covers.

He was over-dramatic, and surely a pain in her ass, but by the gods, she loved that man. He had given her three beautiful, perfect children, and although, sixteen years after their first was born, they were still figuring this whole parenting ordeal out….Azriel was doing a pretty damn good job.

Which only made her love him even more.

#the return #the arrival #nessian #feysand #elriel #2nd gen #modern au #sequel #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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marvel-sluts · 4 years ago

Text

do you want to stay with me?

request: Stephen Strange x neighbor reader where a burglar went in reader's house while she was sleeping and almost got in danger because of it. Stephen offered her to stay at the Sanctuary for the meantime

11. do you want to go on a date with me?

26. cooking with them.

- @tom-hlover

pairing: Stephen Strange x reader

warnings: swearing, breaking and entering, major fluff.

summary: after a mysterious man saves you, you take him up on the offer to stay with him until your house is safe again.

a/n: I'm so sorry this took so long but I hope you like it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

you had always been a deep sleeper, but you never thought you would sleep so deeply that you didn't hear the door being broken into and people ransacking your house.

you woke up with someone shaking you awake. "sorry for bursting in on you like this but I saw that your door was broken down and people were taking your belongings, they are delt with and nothing has been taken but I'm afraid that it's unsafe for you to stay here." a tall figure said.

you reached over to the light beside your bed, switching it on and yawning. in the light the man was quite good looking, tall with dark hair and a wierd looking cape on. the cape seemed to move on its own accord, not following the laws of physics at all. the man froze as you turned the light on, staring at you for a minute before snapping out of it and smiling softly at you.

"what?" you said, still half asleep.

"some thugs broke into your house, but I delt with them." the figure said.

"oh shit, thanks for saving me. I owe you one." you say, sitting up and motioning him to sit down on the bed.

“your welcome, I'm Strange by the way. Stephen Strange." sitting on the bed softly and holding out his hand.

"y/n, y/n y/l/n. nice to meet you." you said shaking his hand. you suddenly let out a small giggle.

"what's so funny?" Strange asked.

"just this whole situation, you literally save me from robbers and now we are having a conversation while I'm in bed, in my pyjamas. it's funny." you said, a small giggle escaping your lips once again.

"actually they were more than just robbers, they had knives. they could have hurt you, but your right, this is a bit ridiculous." he replied, your smile faltering when you hear that they were armed. “don’t worry, I dealt with them.” he said, seeing your face and giving you a reassuring smile.

“you weren’t hurt were you?” you asked, worry etched on your features.

“no don’t worry, I’m fine. you on the other hand need to find a place to stay until your door gets fixed.” he said, “you can stay at the sanctum if you want.” he offers.

“the what now?” you ask, confused.

“the sanctum, it’s a place for sorcerers like me.” he said, waving his hands and creating a big circle that covered almost all of his upper body. the circle had a pale orange tint to it and small orange sparks flew from the circle, making your jaw drop.

“so your a wizard?” you ask, titling your head slightly.

“I prefer the term master of the mystic arts but yes, in some sense I’m a wizard.” he replied kindly. “if your going to be staying at the sanctum you should probably pack some things, you won’t need much your door should be fixed in a couple of days.”

“what about all my stuff? if the doors broken then people will just come in and take it.” you asked worriedly.

“I can put a sort of force field around to stop people from getting in, but that means you won’t be able to get in or out without me removing it each time. so your things will be safe but you will still have to stay in the sanctum.” he replied, calming your nerves slightly.

“okay, give me a few minutes to get changed and grab my things then i’m ready to go.” you said, grabbing some clothes and heading to the bathroom to get changed.

»»————-　♡　————-««

a few minutes later the two of you were standing outside in the cool spring air. Strange was waving his hands in the air, you assumed that he was putting up that force field thingy he was on about. suddenly the wind picked up, making you pull your jacket closer to your body.

“are you cold?” he asked, looking down at you with kind eyes.

“just a bit” you replied.

“here.” he said, his cloak coming off his shoulders and levitating towards you before gently wrapping itself around your shoulders.

“wow” you muttered softly, eyes blown wide.

Stephen chuckled softly “that isn’t the even the weirdest thing your going to see today.”

"I highly doubt that." you said, yawning.

"come on, let's get you to the sanctum and to bed." he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you to a dark alleyway. he waved his hands for the third time that night, opening a sort of doorway to what you assumed to be the sanctum. the other side of the portal looked like a library with books lining the walls, although some books were in chains. you couldn't figure out why, maybe they were dangerous?

he stepped through first before looking back at you through the doorway. he reached a hand out through the portal, allowing you to grab it. he pulled you through with him, a small giggle escaping your lips as you fell onto his chest.

"sorry." you said, quickly drawing away, a light blush coating your cheeks.

"it's fine darling, come on. I'll show you to your room." Strange said, closing the doorway and leading you past the bookshelves and down a few corridors.

"you have a room set up for me?" you asked as the two of you crossed the courtyard, the cold night air making you shiver.

"while you were getting ready I messaged my friend Wong, he said that he'd set up and room for you. word of warning though, Wong is the librarian. you can read and borrow the books but don't damage them, otherwise you will have him on your ass." he said, leading you down a corridor with doors on each side. he opened the door on the far end of the corridor for you. "this is where you can stay until your door gets fixed, I'm in the room next to you if you need anything."

inside the room was a bed with a peice of paper on it, a desk and a closet. there was a door on the other end of the room and a chest of draws next to the bed. "through there is the bathroom, and this is the WiFi code." Stephen said, picking up the paper on the bed and handing it to you before pointing to the other door.

"thanks, you really didn't have to do all of this." you said, stiffling a yawn.

"yes we did. now bed for you, the sun will be coming up soon." Stephen said, walking to the door "goodnight y/n."

"night Stephen." you said, yawning again. he closed the door behind himself, chuckling softly.

"you really like her, don't you." a voice came from behind him.

"yeah, I do." Stephen said, turning the see wong peeking his head out of his door. "stop spying on our conversations."

"seeing you in love is funny." Wong said, ignoring Stranges last comment before shrugging and heading back into his room.

a small smile appeared on Stephens face as he headed to his own room, looking forward to seeing you in the morning.

»»————-　♡　————-««

the next morning you were woken by a loud banging coming from one of the rooms below you. quickly you got dressed and headed to the source of the noise.

you were greeted by the site of Stephen trying to cook. a frying pan lay on the floor, and there was flour everywhere. he looked up as you entered the room, giving you a bashful smile.

"I tried to cook for breakfast for you, if you can tell I don't really cook the often." he said, picking up the pan from the floor and putting it back on the stove.

"what are you trying to cook?" you asked, heart soaring that he made the effort to try and cook for you.

"pancakes, but it's not going very well." he said, showing you a bowl filled with batter and then pointing to the ceiling. there was a half cooked pancake stuck to the ceiling. "Wong is going to kill me." he said, mixing the batter hopelessly.

"come on, I'll help. you use your magic to get the pancake off the ceiling and I'll try to rescue the batter." you said, taking the bowl off of him and pouring it into the pan.

ten minutes later there was a stack of pancakes and a clean ceiling, just in time for Wong to come down.

"you cooked? and didn't burn the building down? you should stick around y/n, I might be able to eat something other than takeout." Wong said, eyeing the pancakes cautiously. "these ones don't look like they are going to jump off the plate and kill me, that's better than last time."

"pancakes tried to kill you?" you asked, turning to Strange accusingly.

"I don't know what I did, but they tried to kill us." Stephen said, shrugging "I think it might be the incantation I used."

"that's why don't use spells to cook." Wong said, stealing a pancake and taking a bite. "these taste great, you are definitely staying."

"great to know I'm appreciated." you said, taking a pancake yourself.

"hey Wong, could you go and find that book that I asked for the other day?" Stephen asked.

"what book? you never asked for a book." Wong said, mouth full of food.

"yes I did." Stephen said, giving him a stern look.

"oh yes, that book. right, I'll go and find it then."

the two of you watched Wongs retreating figure until he was out of sight. "so y/n, I was wondering. you can absolutely say no but do you want to go on a date with me? to get dinner or something? I know we don't know each other very well but I'd love to get to know you." Stephen asked, playing with his fingers nervously.

"of course, I'd love to." you said, smiling up at him.

"really?" he asked, shock evident on his face. christ he had fallen hard.

"yes." you said, a big grin on your face.

"I like you y/n." Stephen said, taking a step closer to you.

"I like you to, Stephen." you said, closing the gap between the two of you and kissing him softly. he kissed you back, hands tangling in your hair.

"hey Strange I found that book you wanted." Wong said from the doorway, causing the two of you to break the kiss, "right, erm bad time?" he asked, beginning to back away slowly.

"very." Stephen said, pulling you back into him and kissing you again.

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skyeet-the-writer · 4 years ago

Note

Can you write a corpse x reader when she finds out she's pregnant and she's playing among us and she imposter with corpse and she kill someone and someone sees and reports it right away she get all nauseous and let's it slip to everyone while she go to throw up and corpse doesn't know what to do but he's excited to be a dad. You can change it up and add thing if you want, I was writing everything down, sorry if this is weird.

And If You Wanna Stay … Please Stay

yes finally a pregnant request! also, i’m gonna be waiting to get the triggered pro-life people in my asks and DMs about how ‘iT’s A LiViNg BeInG”. like what’s the baby gonna do? tell it’s mom??

corpse x female!reader

summary: when the reader gets morning sickness during an Among Us game, Corpse and her expect the worst. And they get it.

word count: ~4.8k

warnings: swearing, vomiting, mentions of abortions, mentions of being pregnant, a little bit of suggestive content near the end but nothing happens

He’s finally asleep, you think to yourself as you watch your boyfriend’s chest rise and fall. He needed it.

Recently, Corpse has had trouble sleeping for more than three hours. You two had tried everything you could think of. You had tried staying up late to get him tired, you tried subliminals and music to get him to sleep. You even tried to give him a massage one time, but that led to other things.

You look over at the drawn curtains and pull them back a little. There, on the window, you have tin foil covering them. It’s a trick you learned from your dad when you were younger. When he worked night shifts, he had to sleep during the day, and he had trouble sleeping since your parent’s room had thin curtains. And so your father taped tin foil to all of the windows in their room so that he could sleep.

You’re not exactly sure why this seemed to work for Corpse, but you’re certainly not complaining. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. He doesn’t look stressed, he doesn’t look sad. He looks so calm.

You lean forward and peck his nose. His breathing stutters and his nose wrinkles. You giggle and slowly, he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times and his brown eyes look around the room before settling on your face. He grins and your smile widens.

“That’s a pretty face to wake up to,” he mumbles and his morning voice makes you blush. “Oh my god, you’re already blushing.”

You blush even harder and bury your face in his neck. He laughs and hugs you around your waist. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole.”

He kisses your hair. “Morning, baby.”

“Good morning,” you mumble into his skin. You pull away so that you’re only a few inches apart. He leans forward and nuzzles your nose against his. Instead of kissing in the morning--you can’t handle his morning breath--you nuzzle your noses together.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask after you two pull away.

He smiles. “Really good, actually.” He chuckles and looks up at the window. “I guess the foil worked.”

You laugh and sit up. You’ve been awake for a little while and your stomach growls. “You hungry, babe?”

He nods and sits up as well, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out. “Can we have pancakes?”

“You can eat those, right?” you ask. You stand up out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing behind you.

“Yeah,” you hear him say. “Even if I couldn’t, I’d still want to eat them because you make really good pancakes.”

You smile. “Really? Thanks, babe.”

You get out the ingredients to make the pancakes when Corpse announces that he’s going to take a shower. You give him a kiss on his cheek and notice it’s a little scratchy. You grab his chin suddenly and he blinks at you as you run a thumb against his cheekbone.

“Want me to shave?” he asks softly.

You shrug. “If you want.”

He grabs your hand and presses his lips against your finger. He gives you a sweet little smile. “I’ll shave.” He squeezes your hand before walking back to your room.

After mixing all of the ingredients, you drop a few droplets onto the buttered up griddle. When it sizzles, you pour two medium-sized pancakes before going to search for the spatula.

When you find it in the dishwasher, you flip both of the pancakes and grin. They’re both perfect. You notice it’s quiet in the kitchen and call out, “Alexa.” You hear her go off in the living room. “Play some fall lofi.”

“Playing ‘Midnight Lofi - Fall Vibes’.

”You smile when it starts to come from the living room. It’s a little quiet, so you say, “Turn it up.”

The music starts to play a little louder and you smile more. It’s so aesthetically pleasing, lofi music. It’s probably one of your favorite music genres. Before you moved in with Corpse, you had to listen to something and you eventually began to fall asleep to lofi. But now that you’ve been living with him for almost a year, you don’t listen to it as much. Usually when you’re cleaning the house or playing music when you study for school.

You cook a few more pancakes and when you’re putting them on a plate, you have an idea. Corpse can’t eat chocolate because of his health, but you can. And you usually have a secret stash of chocolate in the back of the pantry. You’ve been craving chocolate a lot for the past week which is weird because your monthly hasn’t started yet even though it should have a few days ago. But you don’t dwell on that thought and pull up a chair from the small island and stand on top of it to reach the very back of the pantry. Your fingers skim the edge of the chocolate chip bag and you grab it between your middle and index finger. You grin at it and go to hop off of the chair when suddenly--

“What are you doing?”

You yell and you almost slip off the chair. Luckily, you land on your feet and wobble. You look up at your boyfriend when you regain your balance. He’s smirking and looking between you and the bag in your hand.

“Chocolate,” you tell him, making your way back to the griddle like nothing happened. “You know, just because you can’t eat it doesn’t mean I have to suffer with you.”

He laughs and leans on the counter next to you. “I know you have a stash, y/n.”

You look at him with wide eyes, stopping in your tracks. “You do?”

He nods. “Yep. I knew since the first month you moved in. You’re bad at hiding it, you know.”

You blink at him before shrugging, walking over to the griddle. “Well, you’re not allowed to have any.” You stick your tongue out at him and sprinkle the mini chocolate chips into the remaining batter. There are enough pancakes for Corpse, so you’ll just cook up the rest for yourself.

Usually, you and Corpse don’t wake up until after breakfast time since you have a habit of sleeping in. But when you can wake up early enough for breakfast, you both like to sit out at the small balcony and eat together.

“What are we doing today?” you ask Corpse, sitting across from him at the small metal table.

There’s a breeze and it ruffles his hair. “I was gonna stream Among Us later. You can play, too. My fans love you.” He smiles and looks down at his plate.

“As they should.” You flip your hair and the two of you laugh. “Yeah, I can play for a little while. I’ve got classes to do and a paper due tomorrow, though.” While Corpse is a Youtuber and a streamer, you’re a college student taking classes at San Diego State University, trying to get your major in anthropology and a minor in Spanish and engineering. “God, I have a test at the end of the week, babe. I’m gonna fail it,” you mutter, putting your face in your hands.

“What’s it in?”

“Spanish,” you tell him, pushing a blueberry with your fork.

He gives you a stare. “Babe, I’m literally half Mexican.” He laughs.

You throw the blueberry at his head and it bounces off onto the floor. “Shut up, stop making fun of me!”

He grins. “I can tell you the answers as you take the test. It’s online, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, I chose all online classes this year. I mean, you could. But that’s cheating.” You flip a piece of your pancake over. “And I don’t wanna cheat. I cheated all the way through high school. I want college to be different.”

Corpse grabs your hand and you look up at him. He’s smiling at you. “You’re smart, baby. You’re gonna do fine. You’re gonna get your degrees and you’re gonna be the best... what are you studying again?”

“Anthropology,” you tell him quietly.

“You’re gonna be the best anthropologist ever.”

You crack a small smile. “Do you even know what an anthropologist is?”

“No.”

You laugh and that gets him to smile. You lean across the table and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s a little sticky and sweet because of the syrup, but you’re not complaining.

Later that morning, after taking a shower while Corpse cleans breakfast up, Corpse says that he’s going to stream and you come and join him. There’s a monitor across from his that you use from time to time and a headset as well.

Your boyfriend sends you the code for the Discord and the Among Us game. Corpse looks at you from across the desks and you smile. He grins back and your stomach churns. You blink and wince at the feeling. You’ve been feeling nauseated for a few days now and you don’t want to get sick during a stream.

“Hi Corpse,” someone says as you load into the waiting room. You look back at the screen as someone gasps. “y/n! Best friend!”

It’s Sean and you laugh. “Hi, Sean.”

“y/n!” exclaims someone else and you realize that it’s Lily.

“I thought I was your best friend, Jack!” says Sykkuno and he sounds hurt.

You smile and move your character to the customization. You choose yellow and choose the leaf hat. Since your gamer tag is “lemon” you always try and be a lemon.

“Aw, y/n’s a lemon,” says Dave.

You laugh and run circles around him. “Hi, Dave.”

You hear him laugh and Corpse chuckles in front of you. You look at him and be flashes you a smile.

The round starts and the red “IMPOSTER” text lights up your screen. You’re paired up with Felix. You haven’t been the imposter with Felix too often, so you don’t know what to expect. You mute your headset and head down to storage to fake wires before going to fake another task.

You’re standing in the electrical room pretending to download data when Sykkuno walks in. You pull up the sabotage map and close the door before killing him and venting. You come out in the medbay and head over to the cafeteria.

When a body is reported, it’s Lily’s. You unmute yourself and bite your thumbnail as your stomach churns even more. You’re starting to get worried that you’re going to get sick.

“I found Lily in admin,” says Sean. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”

“Sykkuno is dead, too,” Julien points out.

“Oh shit,” you mutter and hold a hand over your mouth. You try to keep the bile from rising while everyone talks and you don’t bother to listen. You do hear someone say that they’re going to skip voting and you do the same.

When no one is ejected, you mute your mic once again and go to follow Corpse down to the shields. You stand beside him while he does his task. Sorry, babe, you think and kill him just as your kill cooldown reaches zero.

You smirk and run away in the opposite direction and you can feel him staring at you. You glance up at him and your smile widens. “What?”

He just shakes his head and you laugh.

You meet up with Dave and follow him around and fake wires with him. At one point, you and he cross paths with Felix and Toast. You may not know Felix too well, but any good imposter knows to go for a double kill. So as you run by each other in the cafeteria, you close the door and both you and Felix kill who you were with before venting away.

By the time you’re out of the vent and running away from admin, Dave’s body is reported. Your stomach feels awful now and you’re almost certain you’re going to throw up in the next thirty seconds.

“Fuck.” You unmute your mic. “It was me, I killed Dave. I’m the imposter. I’ll be right back.” You practically throw your headset off and run for the bathroom.

Corpse watches you practically run out of the room. For a second, he’s not sure what to do. Should he go after you? But he’s in the middle of streaming.

“y/n?” Sean asks. “Corpse, where’d she go?”

“Is she okay?” Julien wonders.

He nods even though no one can see him. “Y—yeah. I’m gonna go check on her. I’ll be right back.” He mutes his mic and takes his headphones off before leaving the room to go check on you.

He finds you on the tiled bathroom floor vomiting into the toilet. He curses and kneels behind you, pulling your hair back.

When you finish, he says, “This is the third time this week you’ve gotten sick, baby.”

You groan and lean your head on your arm. “I know. I don’t know why. Well, I—“ You cut yourself off and go still as if you suddenly had a realization.

Corpse tilts his head. “What is it?”

It takes you a few long moments to respond. “…My period is late. And I’m getting morning sickness. Plus I’ve been moody.” You turn back to look at him and he can tell you’re about to cry. “Corpse.”

You don’t need to say anything else. He’s already standing up, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach and his shaking hands. “I’ll go get you some tests.”

You grab his hand. “Corpse, no! I’ll go.”

He shakes his head and gets on his knees in front of you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

Your lip quivers. “You don’t have to do this. I know how much you don’t like going outside. Really, it’s not a big deal, I can go get some.”

But then he kisses your forehead. “y/n, it’s okay. You need to rest. I won’t be out for very long.” He stands up after squeezing your hands. “I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.”

Before you can do anything to stop him, he turns around and goes to grab his mask and his wallet before grabbing your car keys. He doesn’t like to drive, but you’re worried and driving is quicker. And right now you’re the most important thing for him to be thinking about.

When Corpse leaves, you sigh and stay sitting on the floor for a few more minutes while your stomach settles itself. Afterward, you get up and brush your teeth after flushing the toilet. Deciding to get some school work done, you grab your laptop and head to the living room.

When you pass by his recording room, however, you see his monitor still on. You curse and head inside. He’s still streaming. You sit down and put his headset on and unmute his mic. “Hey, guys.”

You glance at the exploding chat as Sean asks, “y/n? Where’s Corpse? Are you okay?”

I’m probably pregnant. “Uh, I’m kind of sick, so Corpse went out to get me some, uh, stuff. Sorry, but we gotta go. Uh, it was fun streaming.”

“Okay,” says Sykkuno. “I hope you feel better, y/n.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Bye, guys.” You leave the chat and close the game before looking at Corpse’s stream chat. “Sorry about this, guys. I had fun streaming, though, I’m sure Corse did too. Have a good day.” You smile even though they can’t see you before ending the stream. You go over to your monitor and leave the game and chat in your own game. You lean back in your chair and press your hands in your eyelids.

You want to cry. You want to scream. You can’t be pregnant. You’re still a kid, you haven’t completed college yet. You and Corpse aren’t even married.

You suck in a shaky breath and wipe your damp eyes. “I’m probably not pregnant,” you whisper and stand up to go into the living room. “I probably just ate something bad. Yeah, that’s it.”

You sit in the living room on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders, trying to focus on your schoolwork. But you can’t. Your mind is too overwhelmed with the possibilities. You hope Corpse is okay. You know how much he hates going outside and being around other people.

You turn back to look at the lecture your professor posted and sigh. You just need to relax and calm down. Just wait until Corpse gets back and focus on schoolwork until then.

It takes a while, but he does come back. Some small voice in your head thought that he wasn’t going to come back, but you quickly pushed it away. Corpse loves you and he’d never leave you.

The front door opens and you look up from the paper you’re in the middle of typing. You meet him in the hallway where he’s taking his mask off, a plastic bag in his hand. He meets your eyes and cups your face in one hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Your chin wobbles and you shake your head. Tears form in the edges of your eyes and you suck in a deep breath. “Did you get some tests?”

He nods hand hands the bag to you. But before you can take them, he grabs your wrist. “Hey. I’m not leaving, y/n.”

You nod before taking the bag from him and quickly walking to the bathroom. You’re scared to say anything because you know that if you do, you’ll start to cry.

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bathroom floor with Corpse, leaning into his side as he rubs your shoulder. There are three tests on the counter and your boyfriend has a timer running on his phone for five minutes. So far, three minutes have passed. To you, they’ve felt like a lifetime.

“Are you okay?” Corpse asks quietly, finally breaking the silence.

You shrug, not entirely sure how you feel. “I don’t know. I’m scared.” You glance down at your stomach and place a hand on your naval. “If I am pregnant, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m young.” You look at him. “We’re young. I’m still in college. I can’t afford to have a kid!”

“I know.” He draws you closer to your shoulder. “But whatever you decide to do, I’m going to support you. And I’m not going to leave you, either. In case you were worried about that.”

Even though you shouldn’t have been, you were.

Luckily, Corpse changes the subject, going on to say, “I’ve been working on another song.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s kind of a lofi type song. I can show you the lyrics, later, if you want.”

You smile a little and look up at him, staring into his shining, dark eyes. “I’d like that.”

He smiles back and leans down to give you a small kiss. When you pull away, his phone rings, signaling that the timer is done. He turns his phone off and you stand up, walking towards the counter where the tests are. You pick one up.

One line.

You let out a breath of relief and turn to Corpse where he’s leaning on the sink. “Negative.”

He smiles a little. “What about the other two?”

You look back down at the other two tests. You pick one up and your heart drops. Two lines. You swallow and gently place it down as your hands begin to shake. Maybe that one is a false positive. There’s still another one. Whatever this one says will probably determine if you’re pregnant or not.

And so you pick it up. And you smack a hand over your mouth when you see two lines. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant. The test falls from your hands and you fall to your knees, tears streaming down your face.

“Baby, what did it say?” Corpse asks, coming to your side and trying to coax your face into his hand. “Babe?”

“I don’t want a baby!” you exclaim through your tears. “I can’t handle that. I’m too young, I’m not ready. We’re not ready.” You lean into his arms as he pulls you towards him. “Corpse, I don’t want it.”

He nods and you feel him run his fingers through your hair. “It’s your decision, babe. It’s your choice. And I’m gonna support you either way if you want to keep it or not. If you do decide to keep it, then we’ll figure something out. If not, I’ll drive you there and get you In-N-Out or something.”

That gets you to laugh as you tighten your arms around him. “You’ll really buy me food?”

“Yes. I’d do anything for you.”

Your stomach churns that night as you’re scheduling an appointment to get rid of the clump of cells in your body. You’re nervous and Corpse was sweet enough to order you whatever you want for dinner.

You get off the phone as Corpse grabs the food from the delivery person and walks into the kitchen. He looks at you as he places the bags down on the counter. “So?”

You swallow and lean on the counter. “My appointment is in a couple of days.”

He nods and approaches you, placing his hands on your hips and drawing you to his chest. “It’s going to be okay, love.”

You lean your head on his chest. “Am I a bad person?”

“Of course not. It’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it. And besides, it’s not like it’s living anyway.”

You giggle as you try not to cry again. “What’s the baby gonna do? Remember it?”

Corpse laughs his deep and rumbly laugh and you grin. “True. But I seriously will buy you In-N-Out if you want. Or McDonald’s.”

You laugh again and tighten your arms around him. “Okay. And, Corpse?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for being so supportive of wanting to get rid of it.”

He kisses your head. “Don’t thank me.”

When you and Corpse are laying in bed after watching a true-crime documentary, he’s gently dragging his nails up and down your back as you’re nestled into his chest. The tinfoil is still on the windows and it makes the room even darker. Which is actually the entire point.

Something had been rattling around in your head for the past few hours and you hadn’t gotten the courage to ask Corpse. But here, in the darkness of the bedroom the two of you share, you often ask each other stupid questions late at night when neither of you can fall asleep.

And it feels like it’s going to be another one of those nights because you’re wide-awake and you know Corpse is as well. And so you ask, “Do you ever want to have kids together?”

His hand abruptly stops dragging his nails on your back. “What?”

You regret asking him, but there’s no going back now. “When we’re older, would you ever want to have a family together?”

His hand begins to slowly go up and down your back once more. “Maybe. If you want to. If you want to have kids one day when we’re older, then I’ll definitely have kids with you.”

This makes you smile and you tighten your arms around his middle. “I love you, Corpse.”

“I love you, too.” He kisses your head. “Before we have kids, we should get married first.”

You grumble and say, “We’ll see who proposes first, then.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist. “It’ll probably be you, baby. I’m too anxious.”

“Excuses, excuses,” you huff but the two of you laugh. “I’m too broke to afford a ring, though. You might have to settle with a Ring Pop.”

“If you propose to me with an onion ring and I would say yes.”

You giggle as something else comes to mind. “What about those cheap, plastic spider rings? Or the ones that come on cupcakes.”

Corpse laughs again and begins to scratch your back again. “If you do that, we would get married on the spot,” he says in that deep and gravely voice of his.

You grin. “I’m keeping that in mind.”

Corpse hums into your shoulder. “You’re not going to fall asleep anytime soon, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. Are you?”

“Nope.”

“What do you want to do?” you ask him, pulling away from him to look at his face through the darkness.

Even though you can’t see him too much, you know he’s smirking. “Well, there’s already a fetus in you. Want to see if we can get another one?”

You laugh and push his chest. “You’re disgusting, Corpse!”

He laughs and grabs your hands and lifts your arms up so he can roll on top of you. “Maybe. But it got you to laugh.”

You blush and turn your head to the side as he sits on top of you, holding your hands above your head. He starts to kiss down your neck and you sigh. “Corpse.”

He hums against your skin.

You bite your lip. “I’m not really in the mood, babe.”

Immediately, he stops what he was doing and lifts his head. “Okay. That’s fine, babe. It’s been a long day. Can we still cuddle, though?”

You nod and smile. “Of course. You can be the little spoon.”

“Yay!” he exclaims and climbs on top of you and rolls on his side. You get yourself situated behind him and throw one arm over his stomach and use the other one to play with his incredibly curly hair. Your legs get tangled together like they always do and you bury your fingers in his hair while he lets out a deep breath through his nose.

“Happy?” you ask him quietly and he nods. You squeeze his stomach with the arm you have there and kiss his head. “Okay. Try to sleep again, babe, okay?”

He nods, but both of you know you’re not going to fall asleep for a while. And that’s okay. You both sit there in the darkness talking about everything and nothing while you play with his hair and he holds the hand around his stomach with one of his hands. You don’t say anything else about you being pregnant or kids or how you want to get rid of it, and you’re glad. You don’t want to talk about it because you feel like a bad person for not wanting the baby.

Of course, you’re not going to change your mind. Neither you nor Corpse are ready for a child. But that small voice in your head tells you that you’re making the wrong choice or a bad decision.

But you don’t listen to it. You don’t listen to it that night while Corpse falls asleep again in your arms or when you’re in class the next day. Not even when you’re listening to a demo of Corpse’s new song in the car on the way to the clinic.

“It’s really good!” you exclaim as he parks in the parking lot. “I love it, babe.”

He smiles at you before glancing at the clinic. “Want me to go with you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. It'll take little while, though. So you can go do something else if you want to.”

He nods and leans in to give you a kiss. “Okay. I love you. Text me if anything goes wrong at all, okay?”

You laugh gently and nod. “Okay, I will.”

“Love you,” he tells you again as you’re putting your mask on.

You pull it down and smile at him softly. “You already said that, babe.”

He blushes and looks away. “O--oh. Sorry.”

You just kiss his cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll be back.” You pull your mask back up and gather your things before getting out of the car. You wave to him and then make your way into the clinic.

And Corpse did stay true to his words about getting you In-N-Out after your appointment. He even paid for it and got you a milkshake, too.

That night, after finally dragging Corpse away from his computer so he’ll at least try to fall asleep with you, you begin to think. You feel better after your appointment. Before, you were incredibly stressed out and even a little depressed. But afterward, you felt so much better. You felt like you could breathe and no have to worry about throwing up or eating the wrong thing.

And you didn’t regret getting an abortion. You and Corpse both knew neither of you are ready for one and that’s okay. You’re both still young and still new to being together. But as Corpse hums some song against your neck with his nose buried in the skin there, you feel the vibrations from his throat against your shoulder. You sigh happily and push a hand into his hair and gently scratch at his scalp. You feel him smile against your neck and you can’t help but mimic it.

Yeah. You and Corpse aren’t ready for kids. But maybe you will be one day.

---------------------

I’m sorry, but the tag list is closed. It’s just too stressful for me to keep adding them. I’m sorry, guys. Also sorry to everyone who messaged me to add them because I didn’t write them down and can’t access my messages now. Still love you guys! x.

@honeysuger @chubby-dumpling @polahorvat @annshit @simonsbluee @dad-ee-drea @save-the-sky @wibblytimey @thegirlwholikestomanythings @yagorlnessa @alilshit @majolittlemixgurl18 @the-bunny-anon @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @loraleiix @artist-bby @ellomellows @pillowjj @matthew-gray-g @myherotrashbin @sunnsetteeee @lxdybyrd @cultofandom @anngelllla @tododokizuku @pachowpachowbucket @gaysludge @bethpiercwhy @marvelkatwoman @c0rpsew1fe @your-cherry-bomb @bi-andready-tocry @redosmo @gracehaileym @helena-way07 @nekomacam @fadingprunebagelfestival @fifiyau105 @easygoingtheatre @satanwithagenda @gracehaileym @oumachii @mythicalreader @this-isnt-living-anymore @punkrainbows @kitsunedarian @crapimahuman @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @realnicoleworld @scarswideworld @bluewneptune @weeblyheaux @beebo-at-the-church @melmachh @abbiesthings @peterparkerspjsuit @mitchiesdungeon @theeerealpunkin @kaitlynw011 @bookoffracturedghosts @beebeomgyu @tooturntashbash @hughugh20 @spideys-gurl @reddeserths @heartbroken-writer @chimchimsugakookies @danny-devitowo @susceptible-but-siriusexual @moonnei @crystalbaby12 @cherry-pieee @girl-obsessed-with-things @sokkas-paintings @yobroitsjayden @boba-king-iroh @chouxfleur @bbecc-a @tayloryorkscurls @getdevils @nightly-daydreamer @beegobuzzbuzz @dxffxdils @mae-musicbitch @fangirlmisanthrope @bipolarbisexualdisaster @taliyahvermillion @unded-bride @kguerrero-23 @cold-deep-water @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @motheroffae @jokenotfunny @yongboxerrr @theolwebshooter @hawkssnugget @yoyoanaria @babyhoneystvles @rjwinterfell @simp-for-corpse @benjaminka @sailor-earth-1 @mmimozaa @zirvel @bombardia @parkchaeyoung1997 @tetsuluvbot @killuaz0ldick @xibrokensunriseix@fuckbuckyyy @luv-buggie @moneybagmara @betabeta0031 @adorkably @angelic-blxssom @littlebabysandboxburritos @thebriarpatch @i-have-arrived-bitch @alexandrium

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse_husband #corpse_husband x reader #oneshot #x reader #angst #fluff

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whxre4cevans · 4 years ago

Text

Mornings

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

Word Count: 740

Warnings: None :) Just soft and fluffy for now (did I make ransom too soft in this? maybe but I have a thing for soft ransom😁)

Summary: Just a lazy morning with Ransom

A/N: Hey guys! ☺️ This is my first fic on tumblr and I’m so excited to start posting stuff more regularly. I have a lil passion for writing and starting with this lil blog will definitely help me indulge in my love for writing and my fantasies!! I am completely open for feedback and comments, I would appreciate them so much! I am also open for requests, I’d love to take some of your ideas! <3 Thank you so much for reading lovelies :) (this is kinda sh!tty but I promise I'll get better😚)

The sunlight starts peering through the blinds and it causes you to shift around. You slowly wake up and look over to the six foot man lying down next to you. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. But he went by Ransom. But you addressed him as one of your many nicknames for him, and those were his favourite names. He was lying on his toned stomach, hair tousled, and lashes sitting on the peaks of his cheekbones.

Seeing that he was still asleep, you got out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. After freshening up, you put on one of your boyfriend’s t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. You headed downstairs to the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you.

Grabbing all your supplies, you started to whip up some pancake batter, which was Ransom’s favourite. You sliced some strawberries and put out the whip cream and syrup on the table. You went back to your room to wake up Ransom.

You scratched his head gently, trying to wake him up.

“G’mornin’ handsome,” you said softly in his ear. Ransom shifted and groaned under the covers, the sheets barely covering his lower half.

“Hey,” whispered Ransom as he smiled at you groggily.

“I made breakfast, get up,” you said to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and going downstairs.

“Get up!” you said loudly when you reached the stairs because you didn’t hear him getting up. You went to the kitchen and got the coffee brewing before you started making your pancakes. You poured out your first pancake and it came out a bit more deformed than you wanted. You flipped it around and then felt Ransom’s arms embracing you from the back.

“That one’s crooked (Y/N),” said Ransom, chuckling softly.

“Shut up, no it’s not Ran,” you said, being defensive.

“Yes it is, it’s not even round,” he said.

“Okay fine you make one, I’d love to see you try.” You handed him the bowl and he stood there, surprised that you actually handed him the bowl. He slowly poured the batter onto the pan and it formed a perfect circle.

“Ha! See that’s how you do it,” said Ransom as he laughed.

“That’s just beginner’s luck or whatever,” you replied and went to set the table. Ransom stood there with the spatula in his hand, waiting for… well he didn’t know what he was waiting for. Suddenly, you smelt a burning aroma. You turned to see that the pancake was burning.

“Ransom! You're supposed to flip it!”

“Oh shit, I didn’t know,”

You flipped the pancake to see it completely burnt. You took it onto the spatula and dumped it in the trash. You started laughing as you walked back to Ransom and he started to laugh with you. The two of you started to pour out the pancakes together. After making a stack of pancakes, you both sat at the table and started eating.

“Mmm, these are so good baby,” said Ransom with his mouth full.

“Aww thanks, you helped too though,” you said, smiling at him.

After you guys finished eating, Ransom washed the dishes and you scrolled through Netflix trying to find something for you guys to watch. You chose to watch your favourite show with Ransom. You laid down on the couch and Ransom came and sat down beside you, putting your legs over his lap.

“Are you wearing my clothes?” he asked.

“Yeah I am, I like how they smell like you,” you said, smiling as you brought the shirt up to your nose and inhaled it.

“Oh yeah? Well if you like the way I smell so much why don’t you just come to the real thing?” he asked, with his iconic smirk plastered on his face.

“I don’t know, I like the shirt better, it doesn’t talk as much,” you said. Ransom scoffed and started laughing. He grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, tickling you.

“Stoppp it! This is why I like the shirt better!” you shouted while laughing. You finally pushed yourself off Ransom’s lap and fell to the ground. You were both laughing, and you got up and sat on his lap, pulling him in for a kiss.

“You can’t kiss the shirt though,” smirked Ransom.

“I mean…”

“Shut up,” laughed Ransom, pulling you in for another kiss.

_____________________________________________________________

thanks to @dbnightingale24 for being so sweet and motivating me to write PLEASE go check out her writing because it is SO GOOD!!

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echoesofstardust · 3 years ago

Note

omg i would love to read it if you want to share!! that sounds amazing. heartbreaking yes but i love angst and i love your writing☺️❤️

here u go anon <3

She wakes up in his arms and she thinks, I could stay here forever. She wakes up in his arms and it’s a Sunday morning and she thinks, I love you. She wakes up in his arms and she loves him and she knows she has to go.

—

“T?” His voice is rough, still half-asleep and she wipes away at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes before he sees, but it’s Scott so, of course, he sees. He’s always seen her. He sits up straighter, a frown creasing his brow, looking worried. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t know the first thing to say, doesn’t know where to begin, and as she searches for the right words to say, Scott pulls her tighter into his arms, his palm drawing a soothing line up her back over the T-shirt that she borrowed from him, settling gently over the nape of her neck.

When she looks up, his eyes soften. “Tess,” he touches her cheek tenderly, “I’m not going to ask you to stay.” His chest rises and falls slowly beneath her. “I know—I know you’ve got a life that you’ve built to go back to. I’ll never ask you to leave that. I would never want you to.” He presses his lips to her forehead and she closes her eyes. He leans back, runs his hand through her hair. “Your flight doesn’t leave until—” he squints at the clock on his bedside table “—ten hours from now,” he smiles, “you can get some more sleep.”

She’s about to protest but his fingers run through her hair, wrapping his arms tighter around her, and she can’t resist the urge to close her eyes and get another hour or so of sleep. He knows that she doesn’t like rising early if she can help it, that she’s barely human before noon. He knows her.

—

He’s making their breakfast, sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window. He’s already pressed a cup of coffee in her hand. He mixes the batter, flour dusting his forearms and smudged on his cheek, and takes out the chocolate chips from his cupboard. (She had snuck a pack into their grocery basket when they’d had to rush out to get supplies just the previous afternoon, but he’d caught her and rolled his eyes, shifting the butter to show her that he’d already gotten some. He knows her).

He pushes a full plate of pancakes towards her first, handing her a fork. He digs into his own plate, teasing her about how much she’ll miss his cooking once she leaves. She’ll miss this when she leaves. She’s stayed at Scott’s for a couple of nights at least once a year, for so many years now, but it never gets easier. She’s still here and she’s already missing him.

—

“Ready to go?” Scott asks, closing the lid of his laptop when he sees her enter the kitchen, slipping his keys onto his finger and already reaching out for her bags to load into his car. (She wonders what it is he’s typing away at, but he always seems to be closing his work whenever she enters his space, and he’s always been as warm and affectionate as ever, but she can’t help but feel that he’s hiding something from her, and it doesn’t feel like it’s her place anymore to ask.)

“I’m ready,” she smiles. He helps her into her coat and opens the door for her. He waits until she’s comfortable before he backs out of his garage, turning the radio on once they’re on the road. There’s a Sam Smith song crooning from the speakers, My arms will be wide open for the moment you arrive, and all she can think of is the way Scott greeted her at the airport when she’d just flown in, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black coat when she saw him, his arms opening wide once he’d seen her.

(She’ll see him in a year, maybe less if they can make their schedules work. But she knows there’ll be a time that this will stop, that he’ll meet someone who’ll turn his head and keep his heart, and she’ll have to give up the feeling that when she sees him, she’s come home.)

—

He holds his hand out for a fist bump when they’re able to find parking and she shakes her head and tries not to laugh at what an absolute dork she has for a best friend. Ever the gentleman, he insists on wheeling her luggage but not without playfully sneaking in a jab about how much she packs. She elbows him hard in the side and he yelps.

It’s still a while until she needs to check in for her flight and Scott wanders off, coming back with a coffee for her.

“A flat white for m’lady,” he grins, his hair falling messily in front of his forehead and she resists the urge to sweep them away.

“Thanks.” She sips on it, relishing the warmth spreading through her chest.

“Call me when you land, yeah?” Scott takes her hand. “Even if you think I’ll be asleep. I just want to know you’re safe.”

(Her chest aches at the earnest way he says it, all the things that make her fall in love with him just that little bit more, make him walk away from her with pieces of herself that he doesn’t even know he’s holding.)

“I will.”

She closes her eyes as a shiver runs through her, even with the layers of clothing she has on, even with the coffee in her hand. Snow had only begun to fall that morning but she was already wishing for warmer days already.

He frowns at her, and unwraps the scarf from his neck and loops it carefully around hers. His hands rest on her shoulders before he pulls her into a hug. She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t, she doesn’t. She tucks her head into her neck and breathes him in, savouring the way one of his arms tightens around her waist, his hand tangling in her hair to cradle the back of her head. He presses his lips to her forehead before he pulls away.

“I’ll miss you,” he says so softly, she barely hears it.

“I’ll miss you too,” she holds onto the front lapels of his coat and rises on her tiptoes to brush her lips against the corner of his mouth.

(She looks back for a moment as she’s walking away, and he’s still watching her with a tender smile. She sits in the waiting area for her flight, carry-on plopped down at her feet, and buries her nose in his scarf and it’s almost like he’s sitting beside her, holding her hand.)

—

One year later

“Tess! We’ve got more new books that have arrived!”

“Thanks, Kaet! I’ll get right onto them.” She heads to the back room where they store the new deliveries and slices open the boxes, lifting the cardboard flaps.

Her heart drops when she sees the cover. It’s a gorgeous emerald green, the title embossed with silver: Latching onto You. But it’s the author’s name that catches her eye. Scott Moir, in unassuming serif font at the bottom. Suddenly, all the hours he’s spent at his laptop makes sense. Her hands shake as she opens the front cover, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes land on the dedication page.

For Tessa

Every word has always been for you

Kaetlyn finds her crying. “Tess, what’s wrong?”

Kaetlyn picks up a book from the box. Her eyes widen when she sees his name (Everyone close to Tessa quickly finds out about Scott; every other story she tells features him). Tessa hears her gasp when she flips the page over, and she knows that Kaetlyn has found Scott’s message for her.

Kaetlyn takes her phone out, typing something. “He’s got a book signing event on tonight, here in Montreal.”

“What?”

Kaetlyn rolls her eyes. “You need to go!”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, are you or are you not in love with him?”

“I never—I can’t—”

“When you came back last year, we were all so worried. You were so sad and we didn’t know why. The only time you smiled was when you were on the phone with him.” She gestures to the book in Tessa’s hands. “You’re holding a love letter in your hands. Don’t you want to give him your answer?”

“What about closing the store?” she says dumbly.

“I’ll take care of it, go, go!” Kaetlyn practically pushes her out of the door.

Her phone dings when Kaetlyn sends her the address of the book signing, and she pushes the speed limit when she drives there. It’s just towards the end of the time when she makes it and she’s huffing and puffing by the time she makes it to the door. It’s locked.

“Miss?” A security guard comes up to her.

“A book signing? With Scott Moir?” she gets out.

“I’m sorry, but Mr Moir was in a hurry and left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.” Her heart cracks in her chest. She’s just missed him.

She lands heavily in the front seat of her car, biting back the tears. The copy of Scott’s book stares at her from the passenger seat. She’ll call him in the morning. He must have a busy schedule, doing all these book signings, but she’ll call him.

She sends Kaetlyn a quick message, checking if everything was alright with the shop, and drives back to her apartment. Just as she gets out of her car, a figure in the distance steps under a streetlight. She’d know him anywhere.

“Scott.” She clumsily unbuckles her seatbelt and almost falls out of her car when she gets out. “Scott, oh my god, Scott!” She runs towards him and his arms are open and waiting for her to fall into them. She doesn’t stop the sobs that escape her, burying her head in his neck, wrapping her arms tight around him. “You wrote me a book.”

“I did,” his hand runs through her hair. “You still have my scarf,” he says, soft. His finger traces the edge of the scarf wrapped around her neck.

“I wanted to always have a piece of you with me.” She pulls back, cupping his face with her hands. She inches forward until their noses touch, and her eyes close. When he kisses her, it feels like a beginning. “I love you. I think I always have.”

He smiles, his eyes twinkling. “You know, I wrote a book as a love declaration so I think I’m gonna need something more—” She interrupts him with another kiss. It’s hard because they’re both still smiling, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. He kisses the curve of her ear, and whispers, “I love you, too.”

—

She takes him up to her apartment and he takes his time taking off every piece of her clothing she’s wearing, his hands and lips worshipful on every inch, until she’s gasping and sighing and moaning. He’s gorgeous bare in the moonlight and when he fits inside her, she’s never felt so complete.

After, as she’s tucked into his side, legs tangled with his, she whispers, “Will you stay with me?”

He smiles down at her, shifting on his side so he can pull her closer to his warmth. “For as long as you want.”

She thinks of the desk she’d found second-hand that she’d placed by the window with the best light. She thinks that that was always meant to be his. “Forever?”

He nuzzles into the curve of her neck, breathing in deeply. He looks back up into her eyes. “Yes.”

#anon #asks #my fic #tessa|scott

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jamiemackenziefraser · 4 years ago

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All That Was Fair

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

Summary: Claire and Jamie begin to settle in with each other, and Claire continues to experience human oddities.

Read on AO3

Read chp 19 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

***

If Jamie thought Claire had been touchy before, nothing compared to the amount of contact they had now that they were together. Her hands— or lips— were all over him at the most unexpected moments (and the expected moments as well, to be fair). Not that Jamie was complaining. Though every bit of contact still brought a blush to his cheeks and made his heart race so fast it could have torn out of his chest, he never wanted her to stop.

It had been two days since the fateful trip to Craigh na Dun and the following declarations of love. Two days since she’d decided to stay with him— bloody fool that he was. Two days of bliss with the love of his life.

He’d left her that morning still asleep in their (their!) room. Her limbs had been strewn all over the place, making her look like a starfish sprawled on the bed. After disentangling himself from underneath her wee but aggressive arm, he’d placed a kiss to her temple, smiling with contentment that she was his to wake up to and kiss every morning.

Standing then in front of the stove, flipping his pancakes absently, he thanked God for the blessing of her. He breathed in a long sigh and tried to fully appreciate the perfection of his life.

The quiet was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist, making him jump.

“Did you forget about me?” A silky voice asked, lips brushing the back of his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Claire must have been standing on her tiptoes to reach him.

He placed his own hands over top of hers, hugging her arms, and swayed slightly back and forth to take her with him where she was pressed against his back. Affection welled up inside him, so strong that he was nearly overcome.

“I couldna forget ye, mo chridhe. I only didna want tae wake ye up. Ye looked sae bonny and peaceful.”

“You should have. I don’t like being in the… what is it called again?—”

“Bed,” Jamie answered automatically.

“Bed. I don’t like being in bed without you. Besides, I quite like how you wake me.”

A blush rose in Jamie’s cheeks as he thought about how he’d kissed her awake the past two mornings. He loved seeing her sleepy eyes open and her smile as she met the day with the sight of him. How her lips would grow more eager as she regained consciousness…

“I’m verra sorry for leavin’ ye,” he apologized, turning around in her arms so he could loop his own around her waist, “whatever can I do tae make it up tae ye?”

Claire hummed, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful, and then tapped a finger on her cheek expectantly.

Happy to oblige, Jamie leaned down and placed a kiss at the indicated spot. Claire smiled in response, looking like a cat that got the cream. She then tapped the other cheek, and Jamie was quick to give it the same treatment, this time letting his lips linger for a long moment. Her smile widening, she pointed to her forehead.

“Awfully demanding, are ye no’?” Jamie accused warmly before pressing an obedient kiss there.

Claire just murmured an assent— apparently completely willing to own it— before her wee finger was placed over her lips.

It took Jamie only the length of a heartbeat to cover her mouth with his own, uncaring of trivial things like morning breath or whether or not Claire would be able to taste the residual pancake batter on his lips. If she could, she didn’t mind, because she spent the next minute withdrawing half a centimeter only to kiss him again, her tongue less than timid as she indulged herself. He found it unreasonably enjoyable, and his hand wandered up to cup the back of her head to keep her mouth on his.

Her appreciative murmur vibrated his lips, and that only served to encourage him all the more.

But he was interrupted from his task by Claire drawing back enough to gasp, “do you smell that?”

Tearing his eyes away from her puffy lips, he turned around toward the stove to see that his pancakes— really now more black lumps— had smoke rising from them in active billows.

“Christ!” he swore, at the same time as the smoke detector began to go off.

At the shrill noise, Claire let out a startled cry and smacked her hands over her ears. Jamie didn't have time to reassure her as he lunged toward the burning pancakes and tore them off the heat. He juggled them with one hand and turned on the fan with the other before shutting off the stove. With everything going wrong, of course it was that very moment when the handle of his old pan decided to snap, and the bowl of the pan (smoking pancakes included), started to fall. On instinct, Jamie grabbed for it with his free hand. Pain shot through him on contact, and he hissed as he jerked his hand away, allowing the damn thing to tumble to the ground. He jumped out of the way, smashing into Claire, who still was holding her hands over her ears and looking terrified.

Exclaiming some rather colorful words, Jamie reached out his not burnt hand to steady Claire.

“Sorry, lass. It’s okay, dinna fash,” he said with a raised voice over the obnoxious beeping of the fire alarm directly over their head.

“What’s that sound?” Claire yelled out, looked very distressed with her wide eyes and hunched shoulders.

“It’ll stop in a second,” he shouted.

Sure enough, as the smoking mess on the floor subsided, the smoke detector went quiet. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

Claire, the poor thing, looked nearly ready to cry.

“It was jes’ the smoke alarm, mo nighean donn,” he tried to reassure, “the sound makes sure that I ken there’s a fire so I can put it out.”

“I did not like that,” she said with a shake of her head, shuddering.

“I’m sorry, a leannan, come here.”

Drawing her close, Jamie gave his faerie a cuddle. She melted into him, and the tension flowed from her muscles as soon as he enveloped her. It made Jamie swell with a certain satisfaction to comfort her over something so trivial, as if he were some knight in shining armor who’d rescued the fair maiden from the beastly alarm— only he’d actually been the one to cause it in the first place and he hadn’t done anything but make a mess while trying to solve it.

As if suddenly remembering, or perhaps she could sense the slight sting in his fingers, Claire drew back and exclaimed, “give me your hand!”

Smiling but a bit nervous, Jamie held out his hand for her. He watched with anticipation as the soft golden light emanated from her hands as they formed a cup around his. This time, instead of watching the light, he turned his head up to look at Claire’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, lines etched in her face as she focused all her energy. She blinked hard once, shook her head, and went back to staring down at their joined hands. Jamie felt the tingling warmth flow through him, making his hand buzz with energy. The pain began to subside, and the determined expression on her bonny features eased. After half a second more, the light faded from her palms. She didn’t let go, but stroked his now perfect fingers between her hands.

To add the finishing touch, she brought his hand to her lips and began to kiss each finger one by one. Her lips were soft; her kisses more healing than even her energy.

“Ye make a good nurse,” Jamie said in a gravely tone, enraptured by her gentle touches.

“Hmmm?” she murmured, still focused on her task. Finishing with his pinky, she curled his fingers down and pressed one last feather-light kiss to his knuckles.

“Ye’re a fine healer, Sassenach,” Jamie amended. He brought his newly healed finger tips up under her chin and tilted her face up toward him. “And I’m verra grateful ye’re mine.”

He leaned in to give her a proper kiss. She didn’t respond as enthusiastically as usual, but her lips molded to his and in a passive sort of way. He chalked it up to her nerves over the alarm and concern over his injury, but it still disturbed him because she had never responded in this way.

Following his resolution to communicate better, he pulled back and asked while cupping her face with a tender hand, “are ye alright, mo chridhe?”

The smile she mustered seemed forced, which didn’t do much to ease his worries. “I’m fine,” she said, “just felt strange for a second, it’s nothing.”

He kept studying her for another long second, but she remained firm in her statement without adding anything else. With a dip of his shoulders, he decided to let it go.

“I’m sorry about that, my sweet one,” he said with a self-deprecating shake of his head, “I didna mean for all this chaos this morning.”

“It’s not your fault, Jamie,” she countered. The newly growing smile seemed much more genuine again as she added, “I probably shouldn’t have distracted you while you were making…”

“Pancakes,” Jamie filled in.

“Pancakes,” she echoed, looking thoughtful.

She was trying to learn words as much as she could, and Jamie found that he quite liked his role as tutor. At least he quite liked rewarding her for her learning of new vocabulary.

“And the word for the first meal of the day, do ye recall?” he quizzed.

Looking up at him with a triumphant expression, she exclaimed, “breakfast.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed approvingly, “that’s verra good.”

He leaned down and gave her a soft, gentle peck on the lips, and as he drew back, he found she was smiling.

“You’re a very good teacher, you know,” she said, “maybe soon I’ll start teaching you another language and see if you’re as good of a student. Which one would you prefer?”

Jamie laughed, “maybe we take it one step at a time. I can barely keep up wi’ things as it is. Maybe we start wi’ fair folk culture and go on from there.”

“Deal,” she agreed.

“Anyway,” he said, marveling a little at her ability to get him sidetracked, “it seems my breakfast has been ruined. Perhaps ye’ll give me a wee moment tae grab somethin’ else?”

“Hmmm,” Claire looked gravely ponderous as she considered his request, “I suppose I’ll allow it just this once.”

Jamie rolled his eyes with a smile that betrayed how happy moments like these made him. He took a step away from her, already mourning the loss, and headed over to the pantry.

As he stood debating between the merits of cereal or a granola bar (both required no cooking, thank you very much), hands suddenly snaked their way under his shirt. He stiffened in surprise at first, and then relaxed as the hands started to stroke up and down the length of his back.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to see Claire behind him looking innocently up at him. He raised a brow.

“What are ye doin’, lass?” he asked.

She gave a little shrug but did not remove her hands. “Touching you.”

There’s his faerie.

“Is that no’ what got us in trouble in the first place?”

She gave a little hum that said I can’t argue with that, but then countered, “I don’t think I care.”

Forgetting all about breakfast, Jamie whirled around. He grabbed the backs of her legs and hoisted her up into his arms. She let out a squeal but quickly got with the program, wrapping her legs around Jamie’s middle and her arms around his neck.

As he held her tightly against him, their fronts smashed together, he turned his face to catch her mouth and kiss her fervently. Those perfect lips against his seemed almost victorious as she pressed them to his just as passionately. A hum of satisfaction rose from her, making Jamie nearly drop her with how watery it made his legs.

After a long moment of enjoying her mouth against his, he finally drew back.

“I dinna ken how every time I kiss ye it feels like the first time,” he breathed.

“And I don’t understand how the first time I kissed you it felt like the hundredth time,” she agreed.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, smiling so hard his face felt like it would split and tightening his grip on her thighs, “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you, James Fraser,” she replied, her gaze soft with adoration.

Jamie went to put her down then, releasing his grip on her legs and expecting her weight to drop off of him. Only instead of her legs unwrapping from his waist and her hopping down, she clung to him stubbornly.

As he brought his hands far out to the each side to marvel at the barnacle that seemed to be glued to him, Claire tightened her hold.

“A leannan,” he chuckled, “are ye no’ getting down, then?”

“Don’t think so,” she said from where her face was pressed into his neck.

He let out a very Scottish noise from deep in his throat. With one hand, he held her against him just to keep her steady, and with the other, he turned back to the pantry and began rooting through the items.

He withdrew victorious with a granola bar from the package, and he held it up behind him to the wee faerie.

“Care tae help me wi’ this seein’ as I only have one hand at the moment?”

“Of course, darling,” she obliged.

One of her hands reached out to grab it. Still keeping both arms around his neck, she somehow managed to tear open the package (much like a child would— she still hadn’t gotten that human task down) and then handed it back to him.

It was beginning to get real to Jamie just how little personal space he would ever have again.

And he loved it.

“Thank ye, wee one,” he said before taking a bite. Curious fingers began to thread into his hair as he did, making it extremely hard to concentrate on the simple task of breakfast. Fingertips pressed delightfully into the nape of his neck and tangled into the soft curls there.

His throat felt tight as she caressed him, making it hard for him to swallow. It wasn’t his fault that her every brazen touch turned him into a besotted sap…

“Are ye going tae go through my whole mornin’ routine wi’ me?” he asked, shoving the last of the granola bar into his mouth, still rooted in the same spot by the pantry.

Christ, this lass made it impossible for him to eat a meal slowly and in peace. Impatient thing.

The fingers paused their exploration. “Most certainly.”

“Well, we might as well have some fun wi’ it then. I ken ye dinna need it because ye dinna eat, but would ye care tae learn how tae brush yer teeth?”

She drew back so she could look at him with eyes alight with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Ye’ll see.”

Upstairs in the bathroom, Jamie somehow managed to detach his clingy faerie. She let go reluctantly, dangling her feet down and allowing Jamie to deposit her onto the ground. Once he was free, he stooped down to find a new toothbrush from the cabinet. Finding one from the dentist a few months ago, he let out an aha and held it triumphantly up to Claire.

“And you use that on your teeth?” she asked warily.

“Aye. It’s called a toothbrush. Watch.”

Demonstrating with his own toothbrush, Jamie wet it before applying toothpaste and sticking it in his mouth. In what was likely a comical expression, he bared his teeth and exaggeratedly brushed the bristles over it.

Claire was giving him a look of distaste and near horror that made his wame twitch with hilarity.

He switched his brushing to go further back into his mouth, making her eyes go even wider.

“Are you sure this is nothing like eating?” she asked, apparently still a bit traumatized from the incident with the spaghetti that first night.

“No,” Jamie laughed through the toothpaste in his mouth, “it jes’ cleans yer teeth after ye’ve eaten. Ye dinna actually swallow the toothbrush.”

He rinsed and spit before straightening up to face a still dubious Claire.

“Ready tae try, lass?”

She wrinkled her nose a little but gave a nod.

Jamie prepared her toothbrush for her. As he approached her, she eyed him with a wide eyed look of apprehension mixed with curious excitement. She opened her mouth tentatively like a nervous child at the dentist.

He cupped his free hand around the back of her head, his thumb making soothing circles. Then, slowly, so as not to startle her, he placed the bristles onto her teeth.

It was his expectation that she’d jerk away in disgust the moment it touched her, but she stayed still. He gently moved the bristles back and forth, very lightly over her front teeth, and she blinked rapidly and sucked a sharp breath in through her nose.

“Alright, lass?” he asked with a smile as she froze underneath his hand.

She gave a nod, and he continued, rubbing the toothbrush just over the front of her teeth. He felt it as she relaxed, the buzzing tension easing as she came to the realization that this was, in fact, not torture— nor anything like eating.

She made a “huh” sound from deep in her throat, and Jamie withdrew the toothbrush so she could speak.

“It feels… kind of nice,” she said slowly.

“Aye. I ken ye dinna really need tae clean yer teeth since ye dinna eat to dirty them in the first place, but…” he eyed her with a gleam in his eye and a smirk, “if ye’re gonna be puttin’ that mouth on me all day long, ye might as well taste minty fresh.”

To his great enjoyment, Claire flushed, looking at the same time like she felt embarrassed and also wanted to kiss him some more.

“Here, lass,” he said, “wash yer mouth out.”

He handed her a cup of water, and she mimicked what he had done earlier and rinsed.

Once she was done, she straightened up and looked at him expectantly, as if there was some last step to be completed.

“Now,” Jamie said, the corners of his mouth pulling up, “I’ll find out how ye taste, aye?”

***

#noaprilfools #really it’s just a chapter #I had to check like 3 times that it really was chapter 19 #wow #all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years ago

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dreamscapes

this is a little gift-fic for @scribbledghost! because you know as well as I do that she deserves all the love in the universe. this takes place in her “Multitudes AU” (or does it..?) and I directly pulled some lines from her stories to make parallels, so all rights belong to her. If you haven’t read it recently, I highly recommend a reread - not because it’s necessary but because it’s that good.

paring: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x reader

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: brief mention of ‘canon’ typical trauma, literally so much fluff

summary: post universe-collision, you and Jack grow closer and closer every day, and every night

A few weeks had passed since your literal reality had collided with Jack’s- and it still feels surreal. He wouldn’t take no for an answer in all the best ways: you lived in his home, worked in his office, ate everything he put before you. It was the most safe and loved you felt in years, maybe ever.

The looming threat of losing it all, the memories of it actually happening, and echoes of loneliness still haunted you sometimes, but he fought them. Your sweet, try-hard Statesman cowboy would fight for you, making sure you eat like a mother hen, and shooing away prying questioners like it was his job. And he wrapped his strong arms around you, resting his chin on your head and glaring, daring the darkness to try taking away his love again.

It’s not happening – he spent too many nights sleepless, agonizing over the death of your world to let anything happen to you. And he lost so much once, he knows he wont make the same mistake twice.

Towards the beginning, he had been careful, trying to be as considerate as possible, but you’d been in agreement about one thing: you would share his bed. After gathering the courage to sleep with your monitors side by side, this was an obvious choice, but seeing his face when you woke didn’t compare to the elation of reaching forward and touching it. Of feeling his skin against yours, the relaxed muscles of his half-asleep body, gathering you as close to him as he could.

It was perfect.

Except, there was one thing being tucked against him couldn’t fix, that all the fighting for your health couldn’t cut away.

Nightmares.

Waking up to the love of his life tended or thrashing in his arms was a hurdle he never even thought of when he yearned for your presence in his life. Jack did everything he could, whispering into your hair, running soothing hands over your skin, even signing his favorite country lullabies when you woke and needed his voice to cling to. It made him wish for the times when you’d find each other in your dreams, when he could look you in your eyes and mouth to you that he would do anything to make sure it was okay.

It made him wish, as as he had before, that the universe had given him you under different circumstances.

And in a way, he got his wish.

It was hazy, he almost couldn’t see – musty and damp and dark, like he was a basement.

In the background of his mind there was a pulsing ache of fear, desperation, claustrophobia, and betrayal. It was gnawing at him, steady as a drum, pounding and painful.

Jack tried go move, his limbs heavy and stiff and different, than he remembered them. Harrier, darker, less … human. You were tucked into his side, tears drying on your face as your hands wander across the expanse of his chest.

The rising panic in his chest subsided.

Everything was different except one thing. You loved him, and he loved you.

Sure that everything could be okay, he shook his head to clear it, confused at the weight and size of it, before he woke, for real.

Jack felt strange, lighter and smaller, and he took slow breaths through his mouth. Against his side, you were still asleep, mercifully peaceful, and your hand twitched on his chest, running through the folds of his shirt like it was part of him.

When you woke, you’re eyes were puffy, but void of the familiar dark circles you’d grown accustomed to. Footsteps lighter than he could remember them being in awhile, Jack made you pancakes that morning, thinking nothing of the dream he had.

You were his love, brought to him by the universe and some science, and his sheer power of will, and he wasn’t going to dwell on anything other then the fact that you were here. He was going to take it day by day.

It was a byproduct of your trauma, your need to stay close to him, and he liked having you a step away, or better yet, under his arm. Well rested, you slipped your hand into he crook of his elbow and talked more boldly around his coworkers. When you mimicked his accent he nearly cried, thankful beyond words he could see the teasing glint in your eyes, clear of the usual sheen of anxiety.

It was more than enough, your energy, to occupy his heart and mind the whole day through.

Your body had been sore when you went to bed, just a little from building your strength and keeping up with your long-limbed lover.

But this was something different, something new. Your body ached, pulsing and throbbing and through the haze of confusion you realized you needed… Jack. Where was he? He should know. He should be able to feel how much you needed him to soothe your pain.

Distress rose in your throat until you could hear yourself, pleading for him, whining in a way you didn’t recognize. You didn’t know who you were talking to, but you were desperate for his touch, his comfort, anything.

And all of a sudden there he was, like he had heard you, your Jack but… different. Intense, shockingly so, confident and possessive waves rolling off of him, and you would have froze if seeing him didn’t make you need him even more.

When he stooped closer to you, though, the fear melted away, and he was gentle, so caring and worried and tender you could hardly understand it.

He was rougher and softer than the Jack you’d fallen asleep next to, but when he rubbed his nose along your neck, there wasn’t a single worry in your mind. Comfort washed over you, flooded your mind and body, his adoration clear and you could smell him. It was your Jack, your love, and he was taking care of you.

At the Statesman headquarters the next day, Ginger caught your arm, and Jack bristled next to you.

The woman let go quickly but her smile was kind as she told you, “You’ve been looking better, recently.”

She wanted to ask What changed? but she hardly could. You were fine the last time you let them test you, and she was well aware she was on thin ice. Besides, other than looking more rested, more self assured, it’s not like there was any evidence that the change in realities was having a lasting impact on you.

You smiled graciously and thanked her, before your love moved you along.

In truth, you felt better, too, and you didn’t want to question it.

It was another nightmare.

You surveyed the surrounding wasteland with resignation, less afraid that you had been in one of these in quite a long time. Your legs felt stronger than they had in months, like you’d been hiking. Jack’s whip was in your hand and you stared at it, wondering at the pride and confidence that filled your chest.

The realization hit you – you knew how to use it, enjoyed it even. Baffled at your satisfaction, you went back to examining the woods around you, searching for clues to the place your mind had created for you.

There were people around you, that you vaguely recognized from the Statesman, battered and looking worse for wear. They were listening to your Jack, as he instructed them on something.

Moving closer you saw his facial hair was grown out, rugged and handsome, and there were spatters of something dark on the edges of his clothes. The words coming from his mouth were strange, but you didn’t mind them, determination settling in your gut like you knew what he was saying.

Instinctively, your hand slipped into a pocket of your bag, and you pulled out a little stuffed cat. Perplexed but comforted, you put it away, looking up to see your love coming towards you. He was solid at your side, tired eyes filled with the fire of survival.

“You know I ain’t goin’ anywhere you ain’t, baby,” he said it like a promise he’d spoken many times before.

“I know, cowboy,” you heard yourself say.

It took you two steps to Jack’s, when he was walking quickly. The pace made your journey from Gingers office short and you almost laughed at the look on your partner’s face.

You loved him, but sometimes you felt like he was more anxious than you were, about your joining his world’s population.

Her and Soda had just shown you… something crazy, to be sure. All the universes where they’d found you and Jack connected, and it was beautiful, overwhelming.

Once the high had worn off, however, there were lingering thoughts, unspoken fears – what did that mean? What would happen in the universe decided it need more drastic methods to correct the error you created?

The little videos danced in your mind, stirring up foggy memories of things that didn’t quite feel like your own. It left you uneasy, uncertain, but you promised him that they were proof. If you could be certain about one thing, surely it was him?

Settling in his arms that night, you notice he held you tighter, like he was cherishing it as much as he had the very first time he held you.

The sun was well into the sky by the time Jack pried his eyes open, and that was normal. He wasn’t sure why, but if definitely felt routine.

This dream was a blurry as he prepared for the day, surprisingly domestic until it stilled again, and his elbows were resting on a long wooden counter.

There was laughter and chatter and country music and flirting and it seemed comfortable, like he belonged here. Almost like this was his home, and he’d been here awhile.

But his heart clenched when he looked around and couldn’t see you. Fear clawed at his throat and he almost thought it would be okay if you were anywhere – with another man or annoyed in the corner or anything, as long as you were here.

But then he felt your hand on his back, and he whipped around, almost knocking over a weeks worth of wages in glass. It didn’t matter, you were there, and he was so glad to see you he didn’t even tan your hide for coming behind the bar.

No, instead he kissed you until he heard hoots and hollers from his patrons, relishing the way you kissed him back, hands holding him like he was your anchor.

Pulling away, he realized a crudely dressed ex-customer was walking out the door, no doubt suddenly aware of the futility of flirting with him, and he tugged you into his side.

When you looked at him unquestioningly, he knew, to the sole of his boots, you weren't going anywhere.

The burning of the ring in his pocket lessened, and he kissed you again.

Jack woke, more at ease than he’d been for a long time. Tilting his head he watched your eyes move behind your eyelids, lashes fluttering before you sighed and tucked your nose into his neck and settled.

It was a perfect moment, or it would have been, if Ginger’s show yesterday wasn’t still sticking in his kind, buzzing around like a summer fly, too small and quick to grasp. His previous worries of you being taken from him, were eased by his dreams but…

His dreams. Finally, he could place a finger on what was so strange about those images saying before his eyes yesterday. It was almost as if he’d had that feeling, of connection to you, before. Almost if he’d been having them for months.

Jack mulled it over for throughout the morning, wondering if having such an odd conversation was worth spoiling the peaceful Saturday.

You looked so cozy, wrapped in one of his sweatshirts, rocking gently on his patio, the sunshine brushing your outstretched toes.

But he couldn’t resist. It felt like a gift from the universe, those little dreams, and he wanted to acknowledge it.

“I’ve been having dreams about you lately,” he said, settling next to you with a strange sense of dejavu.

“Yeah?” you asked, cuddling into him like it had never been different. “What kinda dreams?”

“Well…” he started, “it’s like I’m me… but I’m not. Like those different universes Ginger and Soda showed us – I’m Jack from somewhere else, doing something else. And then you’re there, darlin, and just when I know everything’s going to be okay – ”

“You wake up,” you finished, giddy laughter bubbling out of you. “I’ve been havin the same dreams, I thought… I thought it was just me.”

“Again,” Jack joined you laughter, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I think we can reasonably come to the same conclusion we did last time, cowboy,” you said, relaxing into the warmth of his chest again.

“Maybe this was all meant to be, somehow.”

Jack leaned down to kiss your temple, his mouth almost smiling too wide to do it properly.

“Maybe like we were meant to be.”

Jack woke alone in his bed, longing in his heart.

As he got up and got ready for work, his movements were methodical, boring, simple. It was lonely, a feeling he hadn’t quite felt in awhile, and he hated it, wondering why it felt so wrong.

When he looked through his kitchen window, he knew.

Across his yard and part of another, there you were, sleepy as you picked up the newspaper off your porch. You glanced at his house and he almost ducked like a teenager caught peeping, but he held his ground, ready to wave if your eyes met his.

When they didn’t, a need rose in his stomach, insistent. There was no way he could start his day without seeing you – and when he checked the clock, it confirmed the theory blooming in his mind.

He had planned for this.

Grinning, he threw on his boots and slipped out the door, grabbing an extra handful of eggs to share with you.

In the back of his mind, Jack thought it was nice, to get to fall in love with you in a normal way.

You woke alone in your bed, longing in your heart.

Rolling out of it, you began to get ready, a nagging feeling on your mind. You shouldn’t feel lonely, it said, and you almost believed it.

Still, you werent sure what to do about it, you had to get ready for the day. You had ample time, for some reason, but making a real breakfast, one with eggs, seemed like it would only make you with you had someone to eat them with. So you wandered around your house, confused at why your feet wanted to carry you outside.

When you did, to get the newspaper, you knew. Looking over at the house next to yours, you scolded yourself for not remembering – Jack. Your love, your cowboy, wait. No, your crush.

The pig milling around his garden looked at you, and you could’ve sworn she winked.

Back inside, you watched through the window as he sauntered his way over o your home, and you grinned. He was wearing his boots and jeans and his shirt was mis-buttoned, and he was bringing over some of his eggs.

In the back of your mind, you were thankful for the chance to fall in love, the normal way.

Bonus:

Jack sighed, turning his pencil to tap the eraser on the paper of the notebook.

He wasn’t sure how he got here, really it didn’t make sense, but here he was, nonetheless. Writing stories about a love of his life he hadn’t met yet.

It didn’t bother him really, as the lines filled the papers, but he’d been catching himself daydreaming a lot recently. He liked the idea of someone out in the universe, sweet and kind and lovely, who adored him just as thoroughly.

And little did he know, that he was right.

taglist?:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

whiskey taglist?:

@0celestialbitch0

#happy birthday my dear!#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #fanfic fanfic

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years ago

Text

A Thank You To The Wilsons'

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x the Wilsons’

Summary: Bucky wants to thank the Wilsons’ for everything, and finds something special for them.

Warnings: none

Word count: about 1.7K

Bucky was happy. But he also had one worry. He worried about how to show his thanks to the Wilsons’ for everything they did for him.

To Sam, who just had to know about even the small and especially gruesome details of his past, who despite his initial skepticism of his person, trusted others and Bucky himself enough to help him. The first person he could always turn to with just about anything, even when Bucky had ignored him and Sam still tried and tried and tried. How he had really put the ‘tough’ in ‘tough love’ and knew that was exactly what he needed.

To Sarah, who not only accepted him from the start despite probably knowing who he was but also reminded him of who he once had been and would have stayed of the universe or whatever higher power had allowed him to. She didn’t even shy away from putting him in his place. And then, some time after school had started again, she had allowed him to pick up AJ and Cass from school. She had taken him with her and had him meet all the teachers and the principal.

To AJ and Cass, who immediately accepted him. The first time he visited, they looked appropriately weirded out by their mom flirting with someone and were suspiciously looking at this more-or-less stranger on their family’s boat. They had known not to touch the shield, let alone play with it, but what were they supposed to do when Uncle Sam just left it laying around? But Bucky didn’t tattle on them. That was the first time they thought about giving him a kind of honorific. Then, when school started again, after some weeks they asked their mom if Bucky could pick them up. He could. That was also the time, they started using him as their personal jungle gym.

Then, Bucky turned up at the cook out. With a store-bought cake, but the gesture was what counted and frankly, Cass said to AJ, he probably couldn’t cook more than an egg. Well, that not only would, but would have, to change should Bucky not leave Delacroix right the next day. And then, Bucky announced he’d like to move in, if they’d let him and if Sam learned to share.

In the fall, Bucky finally, officially, moved in with the guest room made into his permanent room. He learned sailing, fishing, preparing the seafood for selling. He learned which kids needed some more food when coming to the soup kitchen.

One night, when Sarah came into the kitchen, exhausted from a day’s work, the stress of trying to revive a failing business in a post-Blip world.

“Usually, I love what I have. And what I do. But there are days I just want to sleep” She mumbled, sitting down and rubbing her face.

Bucky sat down across the corner from her. “Just in general, or did something happen today?”

“The bank that told us they could help us. You know the one where my big brother made a fool of himself? They just called and told us how they’re so very sorry but they couldn’t help us now.”

Bucky went quiet after that and only hugged her tight.

---

The next day, after he had brought Cass and AJ to school, he drove to the bank. He asked for the exact employee that had Sam made a fool of himself and Sarah so exhausted.

---

Another day later, Sarah had to take an important call right in the middle of the family breakfast. Just as Bucky, and today also Sam, were ready to take the boys to school, she came back into the room and announced: “We got the loan! And the conditions are even better than what they first offered us!”

There was a quick Wilson-Barnes hugging pile, although Sam had to run one or two red lights to get the boys to class on time. Every few minutes during the car ride, Sam looked at Bucky from the corner of his eye. Bucky seemed deep in thought.

In the evening they all celebrated and AJ and Cass were allowed to stay up longer than usual, even for a Friday night.

The next morning, Bucky heard clattering in the kitchen. Earlier than he thought he would. ‘Maybe it’s Sarah and the sleeping rhythm of a mom never changes back.” He slipped down to the kitchen with the intention to surprise her.

“You’re not getting any closer!” Sam growled as he spun around with a batter dripping spatula in hand.

“I thought you were Sarah!” Bucky exclaimed, more shook than he thought he should have been.

“Did my hair get that long?” Sam stroked his head.

“What are you doing there?” Bucky nodded to the spatula that now dripped a yellow-y batter on the floor.

“Pancake batter.”

“This early?”

“The perfect batter needs patience, time and passion!” Sam was indignant.

“But you’re letting me have coffee, right?”

“Because you asked” Sam did that half-smile of his.

As Bucky was finishing his coffee, the other three Wilsons’ came down.

“Pancakes!” AJ called out.

“Pancakes!” Sam confirmed.

“Pancakes!” Cass yelled, coming down after his brother.

“That’s a useful big brother” Sarah smiled.

“You, too.”

“So, what do we all want? One serving of pancakes with berries and chocolate syrup-“

“Yes!” Cass grinned.

“-one serving of pancakes with jam in between each one-“

“That’s me!” That came from AJ.

“-one serving of pancakes with berries, chocolate syrup and jam on the side, specifically to be used for dipping. Gross” Sam chuckled.

“You keep telling yourself that” Sarah retorted.

“And Bucky?”

There was a chorus of three voices, all going “Ohhhhh!”

“Huh? What about me?” Bucky looked like what Sarah would later describe as ‘the confused puppy’ look.

“What do you want with your pancakes?”

“Uhm, uh…”

“There areplums in this kitchen” Sam grinned at Bucky.

“Could I get them with plums and berries and chocolate syrup in between?” With each word after ‘plums’ Bucky got quieter and redder.

“I think I got that.”

One serving after the other, Sam carefully and lovingly made the pancakes, and only after everyone was already tucking in, did Sam get some pancakes for himself. Bucky couldn’t help but notice how there was only one dollop of jam on the uppermost of his pancakes.

The breakfast and weekend went down peacefully. Playing in the backyard with the boys, the shield being used as an over-glorified frisbee, trying to teach Bucky some more cooking. Through all of it, Bucky was quieter than usual. Especially Sarah and Sam continued to shoot him looks, wondering what was up with him.

During the next weeks, everything went back to normal. Bucky brought the boys to school and picked them up, sometimes with Sarah, sometimes with Sam. The boat began to shine in new splendor without glossing over its history to the family and the community. The boys complained about school work, raved about other things that happened and brought up one or two school mates who very visibly sidled up to them just because now their uncle had somehow been accepted as a national symbol. Although Bucky had no reason to be proud of them, after all he didn’t have a hand in raising them, he still was.

During Christmas Break, Sarah approached him.

“Buck, could you and maybe Sam, watch the boys for the day?”

“Yeah, of course! Did something come up? Can I help?”

“That’s sweet of you, but it’s just wash day for me.”

“Hey, I can do the laundry! I’ve gotten better at it!” Bucky responded eagerly.

“No, no, it’s-“ Sarah chuckled quietly. “It’s my hair. It needs quite the pampering now, especially after the last weeks.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“Buck? You okay?” Sarah seemed worried.

“Yep. Yeah. Just had a thought. Don’t worry about it” He reassured her.

She nodded. Bucky gathered Sam and the boys and when they went out, Sarah went up to the bathroom. Bucky had a moment to look at the back of her head. During the day, the playing and getting the lunch, he looked at the three Wilsons’. He really looked at them and especially their hair. Their hair that was so very different from his own.

At home, dinner made by Sam was a quiet affair on Bucky’s part. AJ and Cass retold everything that had happened, from Sam faceplanting, Bucky getting them all the food they wanted to Sam and Bucky chasing them around and then the other way round.

After all the Wilsons’ were asleep, Bucky started researching. He looked up everything he could. Quite some time later, he ordered four things and went to sleep himself.

Three days later, AJ and Cass were in school, Sarah was on the boat and Sam had been called away for some promotional thing but according to him this time it was something even Sam Wilson, and not only the symbol of Cap, stood behind.

Bucky arranged the four single parcels on the kitchen table, wrapping them in paper and ribbons. He sat down and tapped his foot anxiously. He didn’t stop until Sam came in with the boys and Sarah.

AJ was first to ask. “Uncle Bucky? What is that?”

“it’s, uh… a little something. To say thank you.”

“For what?” Sarah cocked her head.

“Uhm, uh. For… well, everything.”

“Well, what is it? Cass implored.

“Go on, open them!” Bucky pushed the two smaller parcels to AJ and Cass, the middle one to Sam and the biggest one to Sarah.

“Is that really?” Sarah looked at Bucky, then down again at the fabric peeking out from her half-opened package.

“Bucky, are these bonnets?!” Sam looked at him in disbelief.

Bucky rubbed his neck. “Yeah. I, uh. Just thought it’d be a nice way of thanking you all. Something that’s not just something superficial, that actually is of use for all of you.”

“Thank you, Bucky. Thank you so much” Sarah whispered and trailed her fingers over her long bonnet.

“You’re very, very welcome” He grinned.

The boys had already put their bonnets on and hugged Bucky’s waist. Sarah hugged him on his other side and Sam put his left arm around his nephews and the right one around Bucky’s shoulders.

“We’re never letting you go now, you know that, right?” Sam said.

“You’re also not getting rid of me, you know that, right?” Bucky retorted.

#my things #my writing #bucky barnes x sam wilson #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #bucky barnes x the wilsons #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #sambucky #winterfalcon #sarahbucky #buckysarah #marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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