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fernweh-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Slashers with an artist s/o who loves to draw them and gives them the drawing when they finish it!

You're writing is always great!

You always come up with the cutest ideas I swear! You’re amazing

-Fern🌿

Slashers x Artist S/O

Michael Myers

He’s very easy to draw considering the fact he can stand still for hours! He’s like a statue, this man does not move. Probably the reason all those muscles are so stiff.

Michael isn’t a very expressive person, so don’t expect much of a reaction from him. Although, he does appreciate the sentiment and is flattered that you think he’s attractive or interesting enough for you to draw.

He will take the drawing from you, fold it up, and put it in his pocket. Thank you, y/n! It’s his now. When you’re not around he will occasionally take it out of his pocket and stare at it because he doesn’t understand how you can love someone like him so much.

One day you might find the drawing laying on his nightstand, crumpled up from being carried around so much. Please make him more drawings to carry around.

Swear up and down he didn’t put it up on the fridge, he has no clue how it got there from your sketchbook. Maybe you sleep walk y/n, it definitely wasn’t him snooping through your stuff.

Bo Sinclair

Oh great, now he has two artists seeking his approval. What is he? An artist magnet? No Bo you just like artsy people, admit it.

He is very flattered that you take the time to draw him but in true Bo fashion, he acts annoyed by it or pretends it’s no big deal. Be careful y/n, because you’re definitely feeding his ego.

He’ll never tell you this, but he takes the drawing you give to him and puts it down in the basement of the shop. Doesn’t want you to know he kept it but also wants to put it in a place he can see it pretty often.

Steals your sketchbook one day and just sits on your shared bed staring at all of the drawings of him. He’s amazed by the way you see him, he’s quite literally seeing himself through your eyes. You may notice a few torn out pages the next day. Bo took his favorite drawings, even ones that weren’t of him.

Vincent Sinclair

He would notice the fact you always seem to be intensely focused on your sketchbook. He doesn’t notice your eyes constantly flicking up to him and back down at the pages though.

You startle him when you shove the drawing in front of his face, but recovers quickly. He would stare at the drawing in awe for a good while. As an artist he appreciates it more than most, knowing that it took both time and talent.

As an artist, Vincent also knows people spend time drawing things that motivate or captivate them. That thought has him overflowing with joy.

Vincent hangs the drawing by his bed down in the basement. He doesn’t sleep down there much since you came along. Now when he does though, he has a little piece of you and your love for him with him to.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms likes to spy on you through the walls and notices that you spend a decent amount of your free time drawing. From the gaps in the walls, he can never make out what it is you’re drawing though.

One day, you shove a page you ripped out in front of his face. He takes in your look of pure delight before examining the page, taken aback when it’s a drawing of him.

Brahms had never seen himself the way he was drawn on the page. He could swear that the person on the page was completely different than the person in the mirror. It makes him realize you really do find him attractive.

Brahms proudly hangs the drawing up in his room within the walls. You can expect him to somehow become even clingier after that.

Please draw him more y/n! He’ll even pose for you if you want!

Thomas Hewitt

He won’t grab the drawing you shove in front of him, he doesn’t want to get it dirty. Then he notices that it’s a torn out page and not your whole sketchbook. You’ll have to tell him it’s for him before he finally accepts it.

At the same time, Thomas is unsure what to do with it. He’s flustered that you took the time to draw him. Little does he know you have plenty of drawings of him. Tommy wouldn’t understand why you don’t spend time drawing things worth drawing instead of him.

Still, he keeps the drawing tucked away in the basement. If it becomes water damaged he’s saddened that he allowed something you made him to get ruined.

Now he gets super flustered any time he notices you glancing up at him repeatedly from your sketchbook.

Decides to flip through it one day when you’re not around to catch him. The amount of drawings of him makes his heart melt. He’ll never let you know why he was extra cuddly that night. He’s amazed by both your talent and your love for him.

Billy Loomis

You know what they say, everyone’s a critique, but especially Billy. Claims his hair doesn’t look right. Your right Billy, it doesn’t look like that, but it would if you would wash your hair.

Secretly, he’s touched by the fact you drew him. Congratulations you’ve boosted his ego even more about his looks somehow.

Billy most definitely has a box of random sentimental items under his bed. That’s his safe place to stash items he cares about so of course you’re drawing is placed right on top.

Whenever he’s having an extra hard time with his abandonment issues he’ll pull out the drawing and look at the little heart by your signature.

Don’t let him discover one of your sketchbooks with multiple drawings though. You’ll never see it again. It’s his now and it’s stashed under his bed in the box with the first drawing you have him.

Stu Macher

He is the embodiment of a golden retriever, just with a dash of psycho. So he’s absolutely thrilled when you give him the drawing and proceeds to give you numerous compliments on how talented you are.

Stu will hang it up somewhere in his room. Would also be the one to show it off to other people even if you think that’s embarrassing. He’s very proud of you and want’s everyone to know how great you are.

This also leads Stu to encourage you to try other art mediums. Don’t worry about the cost of materials, he’ll cover it. If you decide you don’t enjoy it feel free to drop it, he doesn’t care about money anyways so it’s no big deal to him.

Flexes and tells you that he’s definitely more muscular than you’re giving him credit for. Please draw him with an over exaggerated figure so that he can laugh at it.

“Hey y/n! Paint me like one of your French girls!”

Jesse Cromeans

Jesse hates himself after what happened to his face. He probably keeps around very few mirrors and tries not to look in them. So when you hand him a drawing of himself he freaks out a little. This is how you see him?

He’s very flattered and keeps it safely tucked into a drawer in his office. When no one’s around he just pulls it out and stares at it. The way you draw him makes him look better than he thinks he looks.

If he finds one of your sketchbooks don’t think that he won’t flip through it. So when he finds one that you made a very poor attempt to hide, of course he’s dying to know what’s in it.

A whole sketchbook filled with drawings of only him? You’ve filled the whole thing with him with the mask, without it, dressed up, dressed down it doesn’t matter.

This would definitely make Jesse feel a lot better about his appearance and definitely helps him solidify the idea that you do indeed find him attractive and desirable.

Asa Emory

Acts annoyed that you interrupted him just to give him a drawing. He would shoo you away claiming to be busy and acting like it was no big deal.

Only once you’re gone will he pick it up and see what you drew. He softens when he sees that it’s a drawing of him and almost feels bad about shooing you off.

He would shove it in a drawer of his desk at the university he teaches at. It’s a place he can see it frequently and it reminds him that there’s someone out there who can live someone as cold and cruel as him.

Don’t let him find a whole sketchbook of drawings of him though. Not only will he confront you about it, he’ll use it against you if he really wants to.

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theladyofdeath · 4 years ago

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Life As We Know It {Chapter 6}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelb’s blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

The week had passed by in a blur and by the time Saturday came, all Nesta wanted to do was sleep in.

But she couldn’t.

Sleeping in wasn’t possible anymore.

Her alarm had been set for seven, but she woke up with the sun peeking through her curtains at 6:45. She looked at the baby monitor on the nightstand. Nyx was still sound asleep in his crib.

With a groan, she covered her head with her pillow and tried to shut out the light, but it was no use.

She was wide awake.

May as well enjoy a cup of coffee before Nyx wakes up. Nesta tossed her legs over the side of the bed and tossed her robe over her pajama shorts and tank top. After pulling her long, golden-brown hair back, she was tiptoeing through the hall and down the stairs.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear noise coming from the kitchen.

The sizzling of bacon being dropped into a skillet.

She had expected it to be Cassian, of course, but what she wasn’t expecting was what he was wearing.

Or, she supposed, what he wasn’t wearing.

She wasn’t sure if she should go back upstairs, to give him privacy. But he was the one who had chosen to come downstairs like this, in one of the common areas of the house, so Nesta went ahead and walked into the kitchen. She aimed straight for the coffee pot, grateful to see a fresh pot already in the carafe. “Good morning.”

He turned towards her, that broad, muscular chest on full display, thanks to the white towel wrapped around his hips being the only thing he had on. “Morning, Nes. Hope you want breakfast.”

She continued to make her coffee, which was usually easy, considering it was one spoonful of sugar in black coffee, but she was having a distinctly hard time focusing on what she was doing.

She had seen Cassian without a shirt in before, at the few times they’d both been over to swim in Feyre and Rhysand’s pool, but there was something distinctly different about seeing him wearing a pair of swimming trunks and that towel. That towel that was sitting so low on his hips, she knew there could be nothing underneath it.

He didn’t even seem to notice, didn’t even seem to think about her reaction to him standing nearly nude in the kitchen, making breakfast. His hair was still wet, although the ends seemed to be drying.

She wondered if this is what he looked like in a towel, what he would look like in the shower.

She quickly shook the thought away, even though it couldn’t help but linger in the back of her mind.

“I’ve got eggs, bacon, and toast,” he said, his back to her. She watched his muscles expand as he moved pans around and turned off the burners. “Simple, but it’ll fill you up. We’ll need all the energy we can this morning.”

Nesta cleared her throat and gave him a nod as he turned to face her. It was true, and Nesta was unexcited about it. The two of them would spend their day trying to find a part-time nanny for Nyx for the days that the two of them were both at work at the same time.

They’d had plenty of applicants, some of whom seemed promising.

Nesta had her fingers crossed.

A plate was set down in front of Nesta, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at it. There was a smiley face made out of a bacon mouth and egg-eyes. Another plate was set in the middle of the table, piled high with toast and jam.

“What am I, two?” she asked, gesturing to the breakfast face in front of her.

Cassian chuckled. His plate was piled high with bacon and eggs. No room for faces. He sat across from her and leaned on the table with his elbows. “A little smiley face never hurt anybody.”

She said nothing, just picked up her fork and cut into the eggs. She hadn’t even told him she liked her eggs over-medium, but she was glad she did as the semi-runny yolk spilled out onto her plate. Nesta thought about starting something about it, about asking about food preferences before he assumed something, but it was too early and she hadn’t gotten to enjoy nearly enough of her cup of coffee. It was too early to fight. So instead she picked up a crispy piece of bacon and used it to pick up some of the egg, before popping it into her mouth.

Her eyes slipped closed and she tried not to moan.

How could a simple breakfast taste so damn good?

When she opened her eyes again, she assumed she hadn’t been completely successful in stopping her appreciative noises, because he was smirking at her as he brought his own coffee to his lips.

“Told you I make a mean breakfast,” he said, reaching for a piece of toast and slathering it in blackberry jam.

Clearing her throat, she ignored him and continued eating until her plate was completely empty. Just as she was about to get up to rinse it off, he stood, adjusting that damn towel to fit more snuggly around his hips, and picked up both of their plates. She tried her best not to watch the muscles shift in his back as he rinsed the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Tried her best, but found herself staring as she sipped from her coffee cup, but snapped herself out of it and got up as well, making Nyx a bottle for when he woke up.

As she shook the formula up, she asked, “Will you be putting clothes on before the applicants get here, or should I warn them this is going to be a clothes-optional interview?”

He glanced at her over a shoulder, as he began to clean the pan he’d cooked the bacon and eggs in, but turned right back to the sink. “Does my nakedness bother you, Nes?”

Damn him, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” she snapped. “And stop calling me that.”

“So, you like me in a towel, then?” he went on, turning the sink off as he put the final plate in the drain rack.

“You’re exhausting, you know that?” she asked, turning to face him full on.

He turned to her then, one brow raised as he ran a hand through his nearly-dried hair. “I’m just saying, if it bothers you, I’ll be sure to dress before I come down to slave away for you over the stove. But, if it doesn’t bother you, I have to admit that I like to completely dry before I put on clothes.”

No, it didn’t bother her.

No, she didn’t mind having her breakfast with a view.

No, she wouldn’t mind reaching out and feeling just how hard and defined his abs really were.

No, she would never admit to that.

Instead, she raised her chin and said, “I should wake Nyx up so he’s ready before the first applicant arrives.”

“So formal,” he grinned. “And here I thought we were having a nice, pleasant morning.”

A soft cry came from upstairs and she was immediately in motion, all thoughts of those abs and whether or not water from his shower would well in the defined divots of them gone. Snatching up the bottle she’d set on the counter, she turned and headed for the living room and the stairs beyond. “Put some clothes on,” was all

she called back to him as she hurried for Nyx’s nursery.

Nesta shut the front door, falling back against the wood, listening as the final interview made her way down the cobblestone walkway.

She sighed and made her way into the kitchen. She needed a glass of wine.

A bottle of wine was more like it, but a glass would do for now.

She found Cassian already standing behind a chair at the kitchen table, the resumes of each applicant spread out before him. “So,” she said, reaching into the fridge for the bottle of chilled, white wine. “What did you think?”

He blew out an equally exhausted breath, before shaking his head. “There was…a lot of variety.”

He was right. There was a woman who had to be in her seventies, who had brought an entire notebook of lesson plans, with her goal to have the one-year-old fluent in French before his third birthday. Then there was the thirteen-year-old who had lied about her age on the application, but promised she could ride her bike the mile and a half from her house every day they needed her. Just not until after three on school days.

“Too much variety,” she agreed. “That last woman was so boring she literally put Nyx to sleep.”

It was true. Nyx was currently sound asleep in the middle of his playmat in the living room, surrounded by his toys.

“I didn’t mind the retired librarian,” Nesta said, filling her wine glass to the brim.

Cassian scrunched his nose. “She smelled weird.”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t think Nyx will be minding her smell. She was smart and was obviously good with him.”

“So was Viviane,” Cassian said, picking up an application off the table.

Nesta blinked. “Viviane?”

“Yeah, Viviane,” he said, showing her the application. “Smart. Bachelors in early childhood education. Lives three miles down the road.”

“Young, blonde, hot,” Nesta added, taking a drink.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “So you do remember her.”

“I remember that she didn’t have near enough experience and she only listed one reference,” Nesta replied, taking the application and resume from him. She looked it over again. “She can’t be more than twenty-two years old.”

“What does her age have to do with it?” He asked, leaning down on the chair and looking at her. “She’s got good qualifications and Nyx loved her. She was one of the few he actually laughed and wanted to play with.”

It was true, he’d been extremely uncomfortable around most of the applicants. He cried the second a couple of them looked at him and had even spit up on one of them. But he had giggled with Viviane and genuinely seemed to like her.

“She hasn’t worked at a legit daycare or anything, but she’s been a one-on-one nanny before,” Cassian pointed out, as Nesta was reading the same thing on her copy of the resume. “And she said she could get us the numbers of her previous families. She just didn’t want to give them out without asking permission.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounds like she’d respect our privacy, too. But go ahead, keep thinking of reasons she’s not a good candidate.”

Aside from her perky tits and ass, I can’t think of any. The words almost came from her lips, but Nesta ground her teeth.

“We have to agree on someone, and Viviane can start immediately,” Cassian continued.

Nesta stared at him for a moment.

He stared back, watching as she sipped from her glass. “I swear to the Mother, Cassian, if you fuck the nanny-.”

Cassian barked an unamused laugh. “You think I have absolutely no self control, don’t you?”

“I think you’re basing this choice off of what you want, not what Nyx needs,” she said, not breaking their eye contact.

“She may be hot, but fucking her would be a lot more trouble than it’s worth,” he admitted. “And Nyx is half Rhys. Don’t forget that. He liked to appreciate pretty things just as much as I do, and I’m sure Nyx will, too.”

Scoffing, Nesta set her glass down and went into the living room to get Nyx. “He’s a baby, not a grown man, with raging hormones. You’re disgusting.” She picked him up, still fast asleep from hearing about the nuances of the differences in a sitter and nanny from the old crone they’d spoken with last. “Call Viviane, let her know she starts tomorrow at eight.”

Cassian met her on the stairs. “I don’t work tomorrow, I can watch him.”

Nesta shrugged, but continued up, carrying a drooling Nyx to his nursery. She hadn’t noticed how close to his nap time it had gotten. “Think of it as an exercise in self-control then, and a test run. See how she does with Nyx and see if you can keep your dick to yourself.”

“I’ve kept it from you pretty easily, haven’t I?”

Nesta refrained from responding as she carried Nyx into the nursery and laid him down, cracking the door open behind her as she left. Walking back downstairs, she retrieved her wine, purposefully ignoring him, though she felt his eyes on her the whole time. She wouldn’t answer his question, was doing her best not to think about it, especially compounded with memories of him this morning.

She had no idea the muscles leading down by the hips could really be so defined. She thought the illustrious V that dragged your eye downwards on most male models was photoshopped in. Cassian, though, very much proved it not only existed, but that it was as distracting as she’d imagined it could be.

“I’m taking a bath,” she announced, heading back for the stairs. “Let Viviane know she got the job, but she can start whenever you want. If you’ll be off tomorrow, we don’t need to pay her to be here.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, and was in her room with the door shut a few seconds later. She took her time filling the bathtub with the things she found under the counter. There were oils and salts and bubbles and soaps, and by the time Nesta settled into the bubbly, warm water, the entire bathroom smelled like a spa. She sipped her wine, refusing to let her mind wander back to Cassian that morning, but by the time her glass was empty, her head was swimming and the water had begun to go cold.

She got out of the tub, watching as the water swirled down the drain and began toweling off.

And then, she had an idea, to give Cassian a taste of his own medicine.

She grabbed a clean, fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around her chest. And then she headed down to the kitchen for a refill.

Cassian was lying on the couch, one arm tossed behind his head, the other using the remote to flip through the stations on the TV.

He caught Nesta the moment her feet appeared at the top of the stairs.

Nesta’s heartbeat a little bit faster with every step she took.

“This is a new look for you,” Cassian said, simply, even though his voice had lowered an octave since the last conversation they had. “Especially considering you took the master bedroom so that you had your own private bathroom to avoid such run-ins with me.”

Nesta tossed her long, wet hair over her shoulder. “I figured it was okay since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no desire to crawl into bed with me. I deemed it safe territory.”

The glass still dangled between her fingers and she heard the couch creak as she turned the corner into the kitchen. She may have grabbed a towel that wasn’t quite as wide as the rest of them, one that didn’t quite come as far down her thighs. But if he wanted to prance around in nothing but his skin, she could do the same.

They were both adults. She had no interest in sleeping with him - so she told herself, at least - and he’d said he had no interest in her.

She poured what was left of the bottle in her glass and threw it into the trash with a clunk. She hadn’t realized she had so little left, but was fairly sure another bottle was in the wine cabinet.

Which was in the living room.

When she re-entered the living room, the volume on the TV was nearly silent and Cassian was sitting up, rather than laying down. One arm was draped across the back of the couch and the other still clutched the remote.

She could feel his eyes on her and she took another drink before reaching around the back of the cabinet for the key and unlocking it.

Not only did she grab another bottle of her favorite wine, but also a good bottle of whiskey, too.

“Planning on getting wasted?” He asked, quietly.

“Just stocking up,” she replied, locking the cabinet behind her. “Care for a glass?”

Cassian looked around the room, as if she would be talking to anyone else other than her. “Sure.”

“Whiskey, I assume?” she asked, going back into the kitchen for another glass.

The television was a little bit louder when she returned, but not by much.

She sat on the opposite end of the couch, and set the glasses on the coffee table in front of them. After retrieving the glass bottles, she poured.

Cassian remained perfectly quiet as she did so.

“Is this a truce?” he asked, as Nesta held the glass out toward him.

“This is a celebratory drink to commemorate finding a nanny today,” Nesta said, although her voice held no warmth. “No matter how young and inexperienced and doomed-to-fail she is.”

She held up her wine glass.

Cassian snorted as he clinked his glass against hers.

She wasn’t paying any attention to whatever he had playing on the TV, and she had a feeling he didn’t either, not as she could feel his stare burning into her. Enough so that she crossed her legs, unintentionally causing the towel to raise even higher attention on the outside of her thigh. It almost exposed her entire hip, which she wasn’t anticipating, but she had made the decision to come down here, to tease him by showing him what he had done to her. She wouldn’t let him see how much his gaze was affecting her.

Even if it was just the wine.

Or so she told herself.

She was just about to stand, to make some excuse for going upstairs when he set his glass down on the coffee table and cleared his throat.

“New house rule. Clothes are required in the common areas. Kitchen, living room, dining room,” he said, ticking them off one by one. “Bedrooms and bathrooms are the only places where this is allowed.”

He gestured towards her, without looking, to make sure his point was understood.

“Why?” She asked innocently, and then she threw his own words back into his face. “Does my nakedness bother you, Cass?”

“Quite the opposite,” he admitted, adjusting himself.

Nesta pretended she didn’t notice.

“I thought you had no issue keeping yourself in check with me,” Nesta said, her voice low. “I thought you weren’t some untamed male with raging hormones.”

“I’m not,” he said, reaching to refill his glass. “At least, not until a beautiful woman is sitting a foot away from me, soaked, in a towel, pouring me whiskey.”

“I’m not soaked,” she said, without thinking it through. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

When Cassian looked at her, he grinned, but his eyes were dark. “I meant your hair.”

Nesta knew her plan had immediately backfired, either that or she’d had far too much to drink, so she simply nodded and stood heading back for the staircase.

“Nes?”

She turned back to look at him, halfway up the staircase.

He was smirking, that glass of whiskey resting on the arm of the couch. “If you ever do find yourself soaked, you know where to find me.”

She was up the stairs and slamming her door in a flash, trying to ignore his quiet laughter.

#nessian #LAWKI #collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #modern au #movie au

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years ago

Text

Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k

Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin

Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.

A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”

A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly.

“Surprise?” He said softly.

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.

“Did I wake you?”

Yoongi hesitated. “No.”

Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”

“We’ve been texting.”

Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.

“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”

Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes.

The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it.

“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.

“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in.

“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yoongi blinked at him.

“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”

“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light.

Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped.

“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.

“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”

“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.

“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”

“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”

“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi.

“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I’m a monster.”

“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.

“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.

Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze.

Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied.

“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”

“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward.

“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”

Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”

“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.

“I am.”

“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”

Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”

Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”

“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.

“Do you drink blood?”

“Of course I do.”

“Human?”

“When I can.”

“From live people?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”

Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.

“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”

Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”

Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.

“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”

“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”

“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”

Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”

“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.”

“Jimin, I’m gonna…”

Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”

“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”

“Would it turn me into a vampire?”

“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”

Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”

“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.

Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”

“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”

“Which is why you’re so pale too.”

Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”

“R… Resting place?”

“My coffin.”

Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”

“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”

“That you sleep in?”

“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.”

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed.

“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.

“No… Is there anything else different?”

“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”

“Harder.”

Yoongi nodded.

Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”

“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”

Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.

“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”

“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”

Jimin nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”

Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”

“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”

“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”

Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet.

“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.

“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?”

“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”

Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”

“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”

“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”

“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”

Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”

“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”

“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.”

Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.

Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”

Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”

“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified.

Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”

“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”

“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”

“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”

Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”

Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed.

“We can do it today?”

“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”

“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”

“Of course.”

“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”

Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”

“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”

“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”

Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently.

“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”

“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”

“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered.

Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush.

“Oh wow…”

Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way.

Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.

Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”

“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”

“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom.

“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently.

Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric.

Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning.

Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself.

When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted.

Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person.

A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.

He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length.

“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.

Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene.

“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”

He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.

“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”

He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach.

“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.

“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.

“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.”

He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it.

“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts.

Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep.

“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”

“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”

Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.

Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device.

Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.

As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.

“It’s sore,” he whined.

“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.

On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.

Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.

“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…”

Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.

“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”

Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.

On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back.

“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”

The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.

Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.

“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.

“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.

“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts.

Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder.

“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.

“Yes—“

“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”

“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned.

“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him.

The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.

“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.

“No regrets? Still okay with it?”

“Fully… You?”

“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”

Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”

“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”

“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”

“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”

“I know it can be frightening.”

“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged.

“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”

Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.

“Hm?”

“I feel gross.”

“Because of what we did?”

“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”

Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”

“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”

They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”

“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”

“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human.

“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”

“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered.

Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.

“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”

Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms.

#thebtswritersclub #yoonmin #jimin x yoongi #yoongi x jimin #jimin smut #yoongi smut #jimin #yoongi #mywriting

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slutdery · 4 years ago

Text

I know how to nibble.

make a wish series.

A series (for each member of the unit) abot their lines in make a wish (english version)

pairing | lucas x fem!reader

genre | smut

words | 2.9k

warning | exhibitionism, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), sex without protection (use condom pls!), mature content, care after sex, sex with stranger.

author’s note | my native language isn’t english, so if there’s something wrong with anything i wrote tell me and i’ll edit it.

It may sound odd for most people but it actually brought you happiness... And gets you horny, of course. Spending half of your wage on some boy you would probably never met? Your friends thought you were stupid, but for you it was something that just sounded so right to do, besides it gives you pleasure and helps the boy to keep going with his work. You followed his cam for months in a website with plenty other hot guys, but this one caught your attention from the first time and you couldn’t help but pay to see him. He had an athletic body and seems to be very tall, his dick was the most pretty one you’ve ever saw, it was big and not too thin, ‘painfully pretty.’ you would say. A notification popped up on your phone, you didn’t bother looking, cause you were doing a task on genshin. When you finished and finally got the character you wanted in one of the prays, actually all of your neighbors knew that you got Xiao since you screamed when the yellow light appeared on the screen. You were now at the kitchen grabbing some fruit on your fridge, it wasn’t a habit eating these kind of things but you managed to do it every once in a month to ‘Stay healthy.’. After some hours you remembered the notification that appeared on your phone and quickly ran to your room and grabbed your phone, revealing a message from the camboy you followed. ‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ You thought while unlocking it to see if the message was really from him, and surprisingly it was. And it surprised you even more what the text said. He was asking if you wanted to meet him, because he noticed that you were a loyal fan of his work, so he got interested in you and needed to thank you in real life. You answered as fast as you could, saying that you were sorry for making him wait and it would be your pleasure meeting him. He sent you his adress and asked if this ‘meeting’ could be now since it wasn’t too late yet, you spend minutes thinking of what you should do and finally decided to go ‘How can i say no to him?’ Later on you finally got up and started dressing yourself, after all you wouldn’t miss this chance.

🌟

It wasn’t far away from your house so you’ve decided to take a walk, besides it was good to the ‘Stay healthy’ part and you could think if this was really a good idea or not. Going into a stranger house wasn’t what you were planning to do that day, but what can you say? He’s hot and cute. The walking was lovely, many people running desperately through the streets while other were simply taking a walk like you. The chilly wind that winters bring was making you freeze to death, even with hoodie and a coat you still felt the coldness from the weather in your skin, but thank god you were almost at the wanted place. Not much time later you arrived at Lucas apartment, it was that ones that just really rich people can afford. ‘Well, of course, he might receive so much money from the cam thing since he has plenty of fans just like you. Duh.’ You grabbed your phone sending a text saying that you were already there, receiving in response a cute sticker of a kitty with thumbs up, a little seconds later he sent you a ‘901.’ and got offline again.

🌟

You waited a couple of minutes outside his door thinking for the third time if it was a good idea. After gaining some courage in your chest, you rang the doorbell.

“Coming, baby.” He yelled from a very distant room, you supposed since his voice was so far away. He didn’t make you wait for too long, opening the door and reveling a really tall guy. ‘How can someone be so pretty? Like, he’s literally the definition of the word Godly.’ As soon as he saw you he showed his seraphic smile, such a real one, made your day even better.

“Y/n, right? Come on in! Feel at home, don’t mind the mess.” He gave you space to enter as you did so, taking a whole look at the giant place. You recognized the living room from his lives, but you didn’t know the rest of the apartment was as fancy as the rooms he recorded. The pretty brown, grey and white colors all over the place, it screams ‘Rich.’ with all of their lungs. The balcony had the space of your house, completely breathtaking, you wanted to live there. ‘If maybe you didn’t spend half of your money on him, you would live in a place just like this. Dumb.’

“Hey, you zoned out. Are you okay?” He said with the hand on your shoulder ‘Since when his hand was there?’ you turned to face him, seeing all of his little features, he was indeed the most beautiful boy you’ve ever saw.

“I’m sorry, i was chocked by how pretty you’re.” He smiled at you but didn’t answered it, making you wonder if you should’ve kept that to yourself. You didn’t had much time to think, since he stopped all of your thoughts when he grabbed your wrist and guided you to his couch. He sat on it and pulled you to sit by his side. He was gentle with every move, making you comfortable around his presence.

“The reason why i called you here, it’s because i wanted to thank you for supporting me from the start. And i’m really sorry for not noticing you before. And my way to thank you it’s doing whatever you want.” He told you while caressing your palm with his thumbs, you couldn’t deny that all you’ve ever wished for is him fucking you, but wouldn’t that be too promiscuous? ‘You know what? Just say it, stupid.’ Your subconscious said to you manking you really think of the suggestion.

“Come on. Whatever you want baby.” He straightened his body on the couch to get a better view of your face, seeing all your expressions. You on the other hand still thinking about what you should say, finally having a ideia.

“Fuck me.” His closed mouth turned into a smirk, his eyes widened at the thought, it feels like you just gave him a free pass to what he wanted to do from the start. He grabbed your wrist tighter pulling you closer to him. Your gaze slipping from his eyes to his lips, they were so pretty, you were fascinated. The eye contact was amazing, that gave goosebumps all over your body just from his perfect eyes invading your soul.

“Can i ask you something first?” His hand moves to your hair caressing it. In response you nodded at him, signaling him to do the question. “Can we do it on live? Just if you feel comfortable, of course.” Your eyes widened at the thought, thousands of people looking at you two fucking. You closed your legs as you felt the hornyness hitting you, you couldn’t deny that this offer aroused you so much more than you expected it would.

“Uhm... Yes, sure. Why not?” You smiled as you saw the sparkles in his eyes, he looked excited just like you, smiling from ear to ear. He got up from the couch and grabbed your hand, helping you stood up as well, later on guiding you to one of the doors in hos apartment. When he opened the door you realized that it was his room, the one that you saw in almost every live he did or video he posted. It has neon blue lights and it was very decorated with blue and white shades, making the whole room very comfortable. He signaled for you to sit on his bed while he organized the recording stuff, you did as he said and took off your coat, putting it on the desk next to his bed.

“All done angel.” He took off his shirt while walking to reach the bed, the moment he got closer he place his hands on both of your shoulders, pushing you to lay on the bed. “How do you feel slut? Everyone will see how much of a whore you’re.” He whispered in your ear while moving his hand to the hem of your hoodie, your body shivers as you felt the sensation of his cold index finger touching your belly. He brought the hoodie up until it reached your neck, finally removing it when you raised your head to help him. Your hands moved to his neck, pulling him closer to your face, soon your lips met him in such a rough way. It seems like the two of you were desperate for each other, so needy to feel his tongues invading your mouth, while feeling his thumbs traveling through your body. His hands placed on your waist, fitting perfectly on the curve, the kiss was so hungry like he wanted to eat you alive. His hand moved to your bra bringing it down a bit just so he could see your breast. As soon as his fingers touched your nipples you let out a low moan stuffy by the kiss, still embarrassed for being shown to lots of people. You indeed liked the feeling of people seeing you but were a little shy since it was your first time doing this. He slowly pulled away from the kiss leaving pecks on your lips while doing so. His big pretty eyes looking at yours was heavenly, such a pretty face lightened by the neon light, you were swept away by his charm. He got down to the middle of your legs, he took off your skirt and ripped your pantyhose. Positioning himself there to be comfortable for both, his cold fingers passing through your belly until it reached your panties, he pulled it to the side revealing your already wet cunt. His mouth got closer to your pussy while his fingers passed slowly in your clit, making you flinch at the feeling of something finally touching you, in lazy circles he removed moans from you.

“So wet and i barely touched you, such a slut.” He kept moving his fingers but fastening from times to times, making you moan like crazy for him. You were tired of him just teasing your clit, you wanted to feel his tongue eating you out. Your hands quickly got to his head, pushing it so he could get a hint of what you wanted. When he finally understood what you were trying to do, he got his fingers down to your entrance, thrusting inside of your hole with two fingers. You groaned at the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you, hitting a very sensitive spot that made your moans even louder. His mouth finally made its way to your clit, kissing it first and then diving in with his tongue. Pleasure took control of your body as you felt his tongue on your sensitive skin, such a good feeling every time he licked it. Your moans grew wilder from the sensation of the pleasure he was giving to you, his fingers inside and his mouth eating you, you couldn’t ask for something better. He did it so well that made you forgot your ex partners, they were nothing on him. It was like he knew you for years, cause he discovered exactly how you liked and kept doing it until you got close to your orgasm.

“Uhm, keep doing like this... Yes, i’m gonna cum.” You told him while moving your hand to his hair, caressing his strands while moaning his name. You suddenly felt a wave of pleasure hit you and you relaxed your whole body and closed your eyes to let your orgasm out but Lucas stopped before you could, making you sigh and got your head up just to see him smirking at you. You were totally pissed as you felt the feeling slowly disappearing.

“Beg me if you really wanna cum baby.” He stood up from the bed and started stripping, first getting rid of his hoodie and then he tossed his pants off, letting you realize how hard he was. A smirk formed in your lips as you thought that you did this to him. He finally removed his underwear and you couldn’t stop looking at his hardened dick, you knew it was big, but looking at it in real life you were sure that it seems bigger.

“On all fours, whore.” He didn’t needed to tell you twice as you quickly got on the position he told you, not much time later feeling a slight of pain from his slap on your ass. You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was liking the position as much as you did, this way he has free pass to slap your ass. He slapped again, this time harder enough to make you groan at the painful act.

“Just fuck me, please.” You were so needy for his dick, you wanted to feel him inside so bad and you couldn’t deny you needed to have a orgasm. “Without a condom?” he whispered in your ear and you nodded in response, you were on a birth control so you didn’t mind. He took a couple of minutes to find a comfortable position between your legs, but as soon as he found, he teased your entrance moving his hips a bit. A really cracked moan left your mouth, you wanted so much more than just the tip teasing you and you couldn’t stand not having him inside anymore.

“Please, Lucas.” You cried out trying to gain what you really wanted, you were acting like a slut for him and that’s what he wanted.

“Needy bitch.” His big hands rested on your ass you were ready for another slap, but it didn’t happened. You suddenly felt the head of his dick entering your pussy, making groans leave you at the pleasant sensation, he continued putting the rest of it inside, such a big cock entirely into you. He started at a slow pace, knowing that taking all of his length inside takes time to feel comfortable, but even gradually the moans were already forming in your throat. As the moans started to be louder he gained courage to fasten his movements, making you even more loud. His dick filled you perfectly, your walls clenched around it so well and sometimes when he moved you cold feel the head of it hitting you G-spot.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned while fastening it, he used his free hand to reach your hair putting all of the strands in a ponytail, grabbing it while he fucked you harder. The one hand that rested on your ass finally moved, but you didn’t expected it would hit you again. The pleasure mixed with the pain made you moan even more.

“Everyone will hear you slut, keep it down.” You bit your lip trying to lower your moans. Many notifications coming from his phone, more people paid to see him fucking you, it aroused you even more remembering that people were watching you. He moved a bit and finally found the perfect position, the head of his cock hitting your sensitive spot, you were a vocal mess again. Your mind went blank as it kept hitting, you rolled your eyes from the wave of pleasure that passed through your whole body. Your orgasm was close again, you prepared your body and closed your eyes as the feeling grew more. It was too much to keep it inside of you, all you could see were starts on your head.

“Can i cum? Please, let me cum.” He laughed at you desperately begging for his permission, his moves fastened, searching for hir orgasm too. “Cum for me whore.” You didn’t wait anymore, you let out a loud moan as the pleasance took control of you. Your eyes shut while feeling the ecstasy of the good sensation. Calling his name while you came made him closer to his orgasm as well, as your walls clenched he couldn’t hold back and filled the insides of you with his hot load. He wasn’t much of a vocal so you only heard low groans as he came, still such a beautiful sound coming from his sexy voice. You looked through your shoulder to see his face, and he looked so hot with his eyes closed and deep breathing. ‘Angelical.’ you thought while smiling. After composing himself he took his length out, a sight left from your lips as you felt it. You laid on the bed, now facing him, he got closer to the camera and waved a bye to the people that were watching the two of you, turning it off some time after. He looked back at you and smiled, walking in your direction and throwing all of his heavy body in you. A loud groan left as the heaviness hit your body, but you didn’t complain. His callousness hand grabbed yours and caressed your palm again, the same way he did earlier.

“You’re so pretty. You did such a good job, that was really your first time being recorded?” You chuckled at his praise and nodded making him smile. He rolled his body to the side to finally let you breath properly again, still caressing your hands. You moved your head to the side so you could face him, his eyes already closed and his pretty mouth half opened. “You look like an angel.” You close your eyes as well, since you were already exhausted it didn’t take much time for you to sleep too.

#nct series #nct smut #wong yukhei smut #neosmutcollective #yukhei x reader #wong yukhei

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organabanana · 4 years ago

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leaves of three, let it be [2/3] || harlivy

Chapters: 2/3

Fandom: DCU (Comics)DCUHarley Quinn (Comics)Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel

Characters: Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle

Additional Tags: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of batman fucking bats, most of this is straight up idiocy tbh, i just finished watching the cartoon so everyone swears like a sailor i’m sorry, rated for (ahem) happenings later on, ivy/harley/catwoman frenemies

Summary

After Harley mistakenly confesses her love and then promptly takes it back, Ivy spends some time sorting through the things she absolutely doesn't feel (and the ones she does). Selina and Harley don't quite help.

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 2: AO3

If you ever asked Poison Ivy if she’s into meditation, she’d say she isn’t.

Actually, if you ever asked Poison Ivy if she’s into meditation, she’d probably stare you down until you crumbled under the sheer weight of her judgment and apologized for ever talking to her, but that’s beside the point.

The point is, Ivy doesn’t meditate. The concept of meditation, if you ask her, goes in the same patchouli-scented box as moon-charged crystals and essential oils.

No. What Ivy does is… introspection. Yeah. She introspects. She consciously clears her mind of all intrusive thoughts. Which may sound a lot like meditation, maybe? But — she cannot stress this enough — it’s not the same thing.

So there she is. Sitting on her couch. Introspecting. And it may look like she’s staring off into the distance, but she’s actually looking at a nearly invisible, tiny little hint of a green sprout that’s managed to grow in a crack on the windowsill.

There it is. A tiny little fighter. Just like—

Nope.

No way.

We are absolutely not thinking about her. We’re introspecting. So Ivy takes in a deep breath, in through her nose, eyes fluttering closed as she exhales slowly and then opens them and tries again.

As she was saying. A tiny little sprout. She could go over there and touch it and quite literally breathe life into it. She can’t tell what kind of plant it is, but she could make it bloom if it’s a flowering species. What if it’s a tree? She could make it grow so big its roots would tear this whole building apart just like her heart was torn apart last ni—

Motherf—

“Morning, my little dill pickle.”

Selina climbs in through the window, practically gliding into Ivy’s apartment with the kind of grace that would normally make Ivy stop and stare and perhaps have a not-quite-respectful thought or two.

Listen: she has eyes. Don’t read into it.

Anyway. As graceful and ridiculously nimble as Selina is, she’s also way up high in Ivy’s shit list at the moment (second only to you know who), so today is not the day for lighthearted conversation and platonic crushes.

“Fuck you, Selina,” Ivy offers as a greeting, glancing at the plant to make sure it’s still there. And it is, of course. Selina fucking Kyle may be a bitch and a half, but she knows how to move without leaving a trace.

“Now?” Selina cocks one perfectly manicured eyebrow at Ivy, the slightest hint of a teasing smirk on her face. “I mean I was gonna offer brunch, but that doesn’t sound like the worst midday plan.”

Ivy simply stares for a moment, as if she’s forgotten if there’s one person in the world that’s absolutely immune to even her most wilting looks, that’s Selina fucking Kyle.

“Oh, come on,” Selina practically groans, “stop it. Brooding is such a teen boy move.”

“I am not brooding.”

“Right.” With one single word, Selina makes it clear that she doesn’t believe Ivy and, most importantly, that she doesn’t care enough to argue. “Anyway. Brunch? My treat.”

Ivy closes her eyes. Not meditating. Just introspecting. Just trying to channel the urge to make a full-grown sequoia grow out of Selina Kyle’s ass into something productive. One deep breath in through her nose and—

“We can have margaritas!” Selina lets out a quiet chuckle as she admires the perfectly matte black polish on her fingernails. “Yikes. Too soon?”

Fuck introspection.

“I. Am going. To fucking murder you.” Ivy stands up with every intention to make good on that promise, and Selina must read it in her eyes because for the first time since Ivy’s known her — for the first time in her life, maybe — Selina looks scared.

Well, maybe not scared.

But she is absolutely concerned.

“Fuck me, Ive, damn,” Selina takes one step back, no longer smirking, “calm down, will you?”

Ivy stops, Selina’s audacity basically jolting her out of her murderous rage. “Calm down, Selina? Fucking seriously? You did what you did and now you come here and tell me to fucking calm down?”

Selina tilts her head just so, like she’s conceding (against her will) that maybe there is a reason for Ivy to be somewhat upset with her.

“Oh, come on,” she sighs, rolling her shoulders like the tension has to leave her body somehow, and it will certainly not be via an apology, “it wasn’t even real poison.”

Ivy’s eyes widen slightly in disbelief. Does Selina think she’s mad because she thinks Harley was in actual danger?

No. No, Selina can’t think that, because Selina may be an asshole, but she’s a very smart asshole. So she must know Ivy’s well aware of Harley’s immunity to toxins. She must know that’s not even remotely the reason Ivy’s spent the last eleven hours and some change introspecting all thoughts of last night out of her mind.

For a split second, Ivy feels something similar to warmth towards Selina as she considers that maybe she’s simply ignoring the embarrassing part of the event to spare Ivy. Maybe she’s pretending this is about Harley’s physical wellbeing and not… well. The other thing.

Sadly, the split second passes.

“If it helps,” Selina says, and even before she finishes the sentence Ivy can already sense it won’t help at all, “it’s totally reciprocated.”

Ivy feels it crawling up her veins, thick like sap. She’s managed to distill plenty of emotions, turned them into tonics and toxins and elixirs and used them for her own benefit and the Green’s. She’s bottled love — well, lust — and hatred and rage. Fear, even. Insanity, ironically enough. But this.

This… this humiliation.

Oh, this is something else.

Ivy closes her eyes. In through her nose, and even the air feels like it has to go through that thick mixture of (public) pain and weakness and acknowledged vulnerability to get to her lungs.

It’s one thing to have Harley see her like this. Like that. Like last night. Defenses down and heart out there in the open like her ribcage’s forgotten its purpose. That’s fine, she figures, because it’s been the norm for years and years and years. It’s nothing new, really, to have Harley see her accidentally stumble over the line into pathetic from time to time. It happens.

But Selina.

Selina fucking Kyle.

Selina saw that and she understood what she was seeing and now she’s acknowledging it, and Ivy isn’t even mad anymore.

I mean, she is. She’s really fucking mad.

She’s just many other things as well as mad, so it’s harder to focus on it.

Out through her mouth. Slowly. And her voice is nice and even when she opens her eyes and looks at Selina once again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ivy lies, walking towards the kitchen like that had been her intention all along, “there is nothing to reciprocate.”

Ivy can feel Selina’s look on the back of her head. She’s not going to give her the satisfaction of turning around, of course. Selina Kyle’s ego is healthy enough as it is. But she can absolutely feel it. A look involving an arched eyebrow and narrowed eyes and possibly a smirk. Maybe the slightest purse of painted lips, if she’s going for judgmental rather than smug.

Selina is multi-faceted in her scorn.

“You have got to be shitting me, Ive,” Selina says, and Ivy still refuses to turn around, focusing instead on staring at the interior of her fridge and ignoring the fact that ninety percent of its contents are there for Harley’s all-day snacking needs.

She ends up grabbing a jug of water not because she’s thirsty, but simply because it’s the only thing in there she knows for a fact is there just for her.

“Seriously?” Selina prods, walking closer and crossing her arms over her chest as she watches Ivy methodically fill a glass of water like it’s a delicate operation that requires her undivided attention. “You’re such a fucking pussy. And I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

Ivy does turn around then, gripping the glass with perhaps a little more force than strictly necessary. In her defense, she’d much rather be gripping Selina’s neck instead.

“Once again, Selina,” she says with a slight shrug, taking a sip of cold water, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

Selina gapes at her. It’s kind of flattering, actually. It’s not every day something leaves Selina Kyle fully unable to speak. Maybe — Ivy thinks to herself, enjoying her water — she’ll never speak again. Maybe she’ll leave Gotham entirely. Wouldn’t that be just—

Ivy’s train of thought is completely derailed by something that is never a good sign: Selina Kyle is laughing.

Not chuckling. Not snickering. Not letting out one of those sarcastic giggles she likes to use to obliterate people’s entire self-esteem.

No. No, this is honest to goodness, full-on belly laughter, and it’s fucking terrifying.

“Wh— what the fuck, Selina?” Ivy asks, trying to sound less scared than she actually is. Selina’s sense of humor is not so much dark as it is downright fucked up, and if she’s finding something in this situation funny, it can only mean someone is about to get crushed, metaphorically or otherwise.

All signs point to Ivy.

“Look at you!” Selina points in the general direction of Ivy, like she’s about to rip her fashion sense to shreds. But this, sadly, has nothing to do with clothes. “Holy shit, you’re in so much deeper than I thought, this is fucking hilarious.”

Ivy takes one step back, until her hip bumps against the counter and she blindly feels around to leave the half-empty glass on it. To her credit, she still manages to try and infuse her voice with something resembling nonchalance one last time.

“You’re not making any sen—“

“Man, you’re in love, in love, huh?”

Ivy’s been shot before. So she feels like she’s not being overly dramatic when she says Selina’s words feel just like that. Like being shot right in the gut. And Ivy tries to be as stoic as she usually is when faced with things like gunshots and blunt force and bat-shaped ninja stars (holy fuck, he’s such a nerd), but she feels a bit like she’s been standing on a castle of cards for the last… however many years it’s been since she met Dr. Quinzel in Arkham, and Selina’s just figured out exactly where to blow to make it all come tumbling down.

“I mean I knew you two were into each other. Obviously,” Selina continues, and Ivy suddenly understands the exact meaning of all those expressions regarding cats and mice, “but I thought it was like… well, you know. Friends in need of a nudge towards the benefits. But this.”

Selina shakes her head, smile as wide as her eyes. She looks both surprised and delighted. Like she’s really just found out there are feelings involved in whatever lust-filled fever dream she’d interpreted as reality before now.

“And you’re the one who’s doing all the yearning. I totally thought she was the useless one. Holy shit.” Selina takes a couple steps in the direction of the window, like using a door like a normal person is simply not an option for her. “How long?”

Ivy opens her mouth, but Selina interrupts her before any sound can come out.

“Don’t answer that. I already know.” Selina waves her hand dismissively. “No wonder you’re fucking terrified. You’d be safer falling in love with an actual hyena.”

“I’m not—“

“Please.” Selina reaches the window and notices that little plant for the first time, giving it a little pat that could almost pass for affectionate if you didn’t know Selina Kyle. “So what’s scarier, Ive?” Selina almost purrs the question. “That she may not love you back, or that she probably does?”

Ivy tells herself she could murder Selina right then and there, with the help from the little plant. Hell, she could probably kill her without help from the plant.

But that wouldn’t really fix anything, right?

“Anyway!” Selina lets out a happy little sigh as she slinks out of the window and onto the fire escape outside. “No brunch, then. I’ll leave you to your brooding.” Her smile turns into a smirk then, eyes narrowed like she’s about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. “And don’t worry, Ive. I can keep a secret.”

Selina winks at her before she disappears.

Ivy refuses, pointedly, to think about her conversation with Selina.

She tries to go back to her introspection, but it turns out there’s no breathing in and out when your chest is full of feelings to the point of actual physical discomfort, so Ivy gives up on that, too.

She could plot. Scheme, if you will. It’s been a while since she’s gone for an actual multi-step plan to rid Gotham — and, later, the world — of parasitic CEOs profiting off nature. A bit of environmentally friendly murder never fails to put her in a good mood.

But it turns out it’s nearly impossible to come up with a solo plan without being constantly aware of the fact that going solo is no longer her default. A plan involving only herself doesn’t feel like just any random plan anymore. Now it feels like a plan without her, and that’s just— that’s just the opposite of what she needs to be thinking about right now.

So.

What’s an eco-terrorist to do when eco-terrorism is not an option?

Eight hours later she’s in her lab, hair haphazardly held in a bun with a pencil as she looks at her latest experiment through her microscope.

The little sprout from her windowsill sits right next to the microscope in a beaker serving as a makeshift flower pot while Ivy works.

“You know, if this works,” Ivy tells the sprout, eyes trained on the cell that should enter active mitosis any second now, “you’re going to be my sidekick when we take down the next big guy.”

If this works, and she can give this tiny plant the powers she hopes to give her, they can take over Gotham and the world as a team. Ivy’s always worked best with plants, anyway. Who needs—

“Red?”

Harley’s voice is uncharacteristically mellow, but it manages to startle Ivy anyway.

“Jesus, Harley,” Ivy doesn’t look away from the microscope, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

She’s not mad. Not at Harley, anyway. None of this is her fault. She’s just—

Listen. Figuring out exactly what to call what she’s feeling would require introspection, and we’re not doing that anymore.

“Oh. I uh—“ There’s something in Harley’s tone that twists uncomfortably in Ivy’s chest. “Wanted to talk?”

Ivy doesn’t want to talk. Talking, as it turns out, may be the very last thing she wants to do. But there’s that something in Harley’s voice. Something that sounds a bit like embarrassment. Like shame, even. Like maybe if Ivy were to listen in on Harley’s inner monologue right now the voice in there would sound suspiciously like him calling her a fuck-up and an idiot and—

“I’m sorry.” Ivy leaves the little plant’s cell to enter mitosis in its own time and turns to fully focus on Harley. “I didn’t mean to snap. You just startled me.”

Harley visibly relaxes. Ivy decides she hates him just that much more than she did ten seconds ago.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya,” Harley leaves her bat propped against the trunk of a giant nightshade and takes a few steps towards Ivy.

Normally, Harley has no concept of personal space. She sits on whatever surface is closest to Ivy, invading her space and making it impossible for her to fully focus on anything that’s not Harley. It should be annoying, but it isn’t, for reasons Ivy is absolutely not going to consider at this time.

This time, however, Harley hovers just a step or two away from Ivy and her microscope and her standing desk.

It feels…

It feels wrong.

“What did you want to talk about?” Ivy taps the desk and tries not to smile when Harley beams as she practically bounces to sit on it. Her legs dangle over the edge, well-worn combat boots lightly bumping against Ivy’s legs with each soft swing of Harley’s feet.

Nothing really feels wrong anymore.

“I’m sorry, Pammy.”

Ivy shakes her head. “It’s fine. You know you’re always welcome here, I just wasn’t expecting—“

“No,” Harley says, and when Ivy looks into her eyes she realizes Harley’s not going to let her pretend she has no idea what this is about, “I mean I’m sorry about the other night.”

Ivy stands up a little straighter. Takes half a step back, like that’s going to help. Crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s fine.”

Harley tilts her head just so, bright blue eyes narrowing for a second, and Ivy sees a flash of Harleen right there staring back at her. Reading her fucking thoughts, almost. It’s unnerving.

“It’s fine, Harley,” Ivy insists, tone sharper as she takes another step back. She can hear the low rumble of every vine in her lab stirring along with her mood.

There’s a moment there, maybe a few seconds long, where they both simply stare at each other in silence. Like they’re trying to figure each other out in a way that feels completely foreign because she knows Harley, and Harley knows her, and there’s nothing to figure out. Nothing at all.

“You know—“ Harley’s voice sounds a bit brittle, like it may just break if it hits the wrong word, “you know I didn’t mean it, Pammy.”

Ivy nods. Once.

“I know.” She knows now and she knew when she first met Harley and she’s known for the last however many years it’s been. She fucking knows it’s love but it’s not love like that. She knows. “It’s fine.”

“You know Selina just got in my head, right?” Harley keeps talking, and on some level Ivy knows there’s nothing to be angry about because Harley just wants to explain. She just wants to make sure things aren’t weird between them because they’re best friends. But it feels almost cruel anyway. “You know I don’t—“

“I know you don’t love me, Harley, yes, for fuck’s sakes, I’m not an idiot.”

“But I—“

“Don’t.” Ivy holds one finger up. If she has to listen to Harley say she loves her, but just not in that way she may lose her fucking mind. “It’s fine.”

For a few blessed seconds, it feels like maybe Harley will let it go. Like maybe she’ll just drop it and let Ivy get out of this with some semblance of pride.

But that would just be too much to ask, wouldn’t it?

“I do love you, Ive, it’s just—“

“Holy shit, Harley!” Ivy raises her voice and hears the tell-tale creak of vines growing up the wall. “I know! I fucking know, all right? Selina is a dick and you thought margarita mix was a love potion and you’re not fucking in love with me, all right? I know!”

“But—“

“No! No fucking but!” Ivy swears she hears it. The little snap when she loses her last thread of control over what she’s saying and things spill out before she has a chance to filter them. “I don’t love you either, have you even considered that?”

Harley’s eyes widen in the purest expression of surprise Ivy’s ever seen in her life.

“Right!” There’s a part of Ivy that wants to stop. She wants to stop and backtrack and tell Harley she didn’t mean it because she can’t stand the thought of hurting her, and she needs her to know that of course — of course — Ivy loves her. But she just can’t right now. “I’m not secretly in love with you! All right? I’m glad you don’t love me. I’m fucking fine.”

Harley opens her mouth like she’s about to speak, but closes it without making a sound. She doesn’t look hurt, necessarily. She looks… she looks disarmed, almost. Like she doesn’t know how to react.

“I’ll just—“ Harley swallows and jumps off the desk. “We’re fine, so I’ll just leave. Yeah?”

Ivy nods. “Fine.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Harley sort of smiles, but not really. She moves a bit slower than usual as she goes back to her bat and walks towards the door, and there’s a part of Ivy that wants to stop her and fix this somehow — because it’s not fine at all — but self-preservation wins in the end.

“Remember to lock the door on your way out.”

For a second, Harley almost looks like she may say something. And for a second, Ivy almost hopes she will. But Harley just nods and walks out, and when she hears the lock snap into place, Ivy knows she’s all alone with her plants.

Right where she belongs.

#harlivy #harlivy fanfiction #harlivy fanfic #poison ivy #harley quinn #fic

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ironmariposa · 4 years ago

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Sanctuary

Summary: Peter is not coping very well after returning five years later to a world without Mr. Stark.

Also found on Ao3

This is our sanctuary We can find shelter and peace This is our sanctuary You are, you are safe with me We share this hurt, we share the pain

Pepper corners him in the kitchen. He’s standing at the sink, staring out the window towards where the lake is, searching, searching, searching.

His mind is numb.

Blank.

Exhaustion from the day, the past few days actually, is starting to creep its way through him. He hasn’t slept since he returned from wherever the hell he and the others went for five years. Five fucking years. He should be turning twenty-one this year. He should be in college, he should be growing facial hair, he should be … there’s so many should bes and yet there's even more never haves.

His head hurts, his eyes hurt, his heart hurts. And as exhausted as he is, he just can not sleep. And because of that, all of his spider senses are on constant high alert.

He knows when he does finally crash, he will crash hard and long. Once, he stayed up with Tony an entire weekend. Nearly seventy two hours and then proceeded to sleep for three days straight.

Thankfully that had been during his spring break.

Just before…

He feels that is what he’s heading towards when Pepper comes up behind him in the kitchen and squeezes his shoulder. He jumps. Literally.

And then proceeds to drop the plate in his hands. The impact of it shattering on the floor is loud and extremely surprising to both of them. The living room, that had been a constant buzz of talking with everyone crowded in there, falls silent. All he can hear is heartbeats and shallow breathing. Eyes are on him as they try to assess if there is danger.

There isn’t. He tries to smile but it falls short and slowly they all turn away and begin to talk again. Peter lets out a breath. He should have felt Pepper approaching. He should have been able to catch the plate. His spider senses are all over the place.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Potts.” He stops and looks up at her from the floor where he is already picking up the broken pieces, “Is it Stark now? Mrs. Stark.” He tilts his head at her because that doesn’t feel right. He’s called her Ms. Potts for so long now.

“It’s Stark. But I kept my working name as Potts.”

Peter twists his mouth in confusion.

She squats by him and smiles as she places a hand on his wrist, squeezing gently, “But to you, it’s just Pepper. Here, let me help.”

They work in silence and after they’re done she pours them each a cup of coffee. Coffee is the absolute last thing Peter needs in his system but he’s far too polite to turn her down.

May peeks her head in the kitchen and gives them a tight smile, “Everything okay in here?”

“We’re okay.” Pepper assures her and Mays eyes dart to his before she disappears again. Peter can still hear all the others in the house. It’s been nearly twelve hours since the funeral and still no one has been willing to leave just yet.

Other than to pick up more food.

And alcohol.

Peter has kept mostly to himself. Sitting in a corner or standing off to the side. He spent a good amount of time just standing by the edge of the lake, keeping his eye on the wreath and arc reactor. That is until Harley approached him.

They had known about one another, each hearing stories about the other from Mr. Stark, but although he mentioned wanting to have them meet, they never had got around to it.

Until now.

“So it takes him dying for us to finally meet.”

Peter lowers his eyebrows, pushing his hands deeper into his pant pockets.

“Too soon?” Harley tries again.

Peter shakes his head, “Maybe. I don’t know. Part of me says yes but the other part knows he would laugh at it.”

Harley chuckles and Peter sees him turn to look across the water at the floating wreath, “He definitely would.”

Pepper places her hand on top of his on the table and he lifts his eyes to meet hers. She looks just as exhausted as he feels and he suddenly feels incredibly guilty for not helping her more the past few days. It couldn’t have been easy trying to plan all this while dealing with her grief and a child.

“Happy has been helping you right?” He suddenly asks and off her confused look he continues, “With all of this? Getting everyone here and the food and the ….”

The body. God, he can’t even think it without tears spilling down his cheeks. He still sees Captain America carrying Iron Man across the battlefield every time he closes his eyes. He had watched as Pepper, still in her Rescue suit, followed silently behind and one by one the heroes stood and formed a line to follow their fallen soldier.

“Oh Peter. Ssshhhh.”

Peter shakes his head and angrily brushes the tears from his cheeks, “No. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what, exactly?”

“Comfort me.” He is shaking. His emotions are all over the place and he feels a rage burning deep in him. Not towards anyone but himself. At how selfish he is.

“Why can’t I comfort you, Peter?” Pepper whispers, her hand brushes across his arm multiple times before the sensation of it becomes too overwhelming that he jumps to his feet, his chair making a loud bang as it falls over. Peter ignores it as he begins to pace.

“Peter?”

“I just. You shouldn’t be comforting me after all you’ve had to go through. I should be comforting you. I should have been here helping you with everything. With, with the, the,” He waves his hand to the window that the lake can be clearly seen out of. To the wreath. “I should have been here with her.” Morgan, Morgan, Morgan. Mr. Stark has a child and she looks identical to him. Identical. Morgan.

“Pepper? Pete? Everything okay here?” Happy steps into the kitchen and Peter can sense the quiet of the house as the others strain to listen.

“No. No, Happy everything is not okay. It’s so fucking far from okay.”

“Hey, language, kid.”

That nickname. Happy has used it just as much as Mr. Stark but it still triggers him. He tangles his hands in his hair and squats down, “Shit, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Can’t what Peter?” Pepper asks in that incredibly gentle voice and he just shakes his head.

“Will you turn off the lights, Happy?”

“I.. what?”

“The lights. The lights. The god damn lights. FRIDAY, turn off the lights!”

“Peter, FRIDAY isn’t….”

But suddenly the lights are off and he feels himself falling until he feels a hand on his shoulder and he’s jumping up and back so hard that the person who touched him, May, is thrown into the other wall.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. I can’t. I can’t.” And suddenly Captain America is standing in front of him with his hands up.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Just don’t touch me.” Peter begs, noticing that the kitchen is empty but for the two of them.

“No one’s going to touch you, Queens.”

Peter reacts to that and his eyes meet the very blue ones of Captain America, “What happened? Did I … did I hurt anyone?”

Cap shakes his head, “Everyone’s fine. When’s the last time you slept?”

Peter shakes his head, “I don’t, I don’t know.”

“Happy?”

Happy steps around the corner and although Captain America addressed him, he doesn’t take his eyes off Peter, “Will you ask Pepper if there is a room Peter can use to rest in?”

“No need.” Happy says, “Peter has a room of his own here.”

“What?” Peter glances at Happy but Cap steps in his line of sight, “Queens, we need to get your sensory overload under control and that won’t happen until you get some rest.”

Peter nods. He’s not one to argue with Captain America on a good day. So he dutifully follows behind the superhero as Happy leads them through the (quiet and darkened) living room and up the stairs. They pass what he knows to be Morgan’s room and step into a room at the end of the hall. The lights are off and as it’s been dark outside for a few hours, he can see very little of the room. A bed is in the middle though and he practically falls into it without anyone saying a word.

And he sleeps for twenty-four hours straight.

When he wakes it’s quiet in the house. He stares up at the dark ceiling for a long moment before sliding out of the bed. After stopping in the bathroom, he silently makes his way into the kitchen. Pepper is sitting at the island, the only light from her phone as she scans through her emails.

“Hey.” Peter says quietly so not to startle her. She still jumps and turns to him.

“Peter. You’re awake.” She snaps her mouth shut glancing over his shoulder to the dark silent living room. He knows without looking that there are multiple people sleeping in there, “How are you feeling?” She asks, her voice nearly a whisper.

Peter runs his hand through his hair, “Better. Hungry.”

Pepper gives a half smile and stands to make her way to the fridge, “Rhodey made tacos for dinner and there’s plenty of leftovers if you want.” She’s pulling out container after container and placing them on the island before he even has a chance to respond.

She makes him a plate as he drinks a shake May had made and saved for him. Then he eats five tacos without taking a breath.

“Is everyone still here?” He quietly asks as he starts on his sixth taco.

Pepper places her dark phone down in front of her. He had noticed her staring at the dark screen on his third taco.

“T’Chala left with his group before dinner. Clint took his family back to their farm.” She taps her fingers on the counter, “Nebula and her group left before you passed out of course. Everyone else is still here.”

“Still a lot of people.”

She hums as she fiddles with her phone, “I just don’t have it in me to kick anyone out.”

Peter finishes his last taco and stands to wash his plate. He silently finishes and as he reaches to put it in the drying rack, he notices the photo. It’s the one of him and Mr. Stark posing with his intern frame.

“He really missed you.” Pepper says from behind him.

Peter doesn’t respond. Can’t respond. His body feels suddenly tight. Like he’s about to snap but he doesn’t know how or what will happen if he does. He’s afraid after what happened last time. His fingers grip the plate and he feels the crack before the plate gives and shatters between his fingers.

“Oh!” Pepper is turning him and pulling his hands apart before he realizes what exactly has happened.

He stares down at his hands, now covered in blood and isn’t quite sure what to do. “Pepper?” He looks up at her, his eyes full of so many questions.

“Oh honey, shhhh it’s okay. We’ll clean this up in no time.” She looks behind her into the dark living room full of multiple superheroes and sighs, “Let’s go into the bathroom. There should be a first aid kit.” She squeezes his wrist, “Do you want me to get your aunt?”

Peter quickly shakes his head, “No, no. Let her rest. Maybe.” He pauses, chewing on his cheek for a moment, contemplating, “Maybe Happy though?”

She smiles softly, “Of course. Come on.”

She leads him into a bathroom silently, her hand not leaving his wrist, her other hand quickly typing out a message, he realizes a moment later to Happy, as the man appears in the bathroom doorway. He was asleep, Peter can tell, but he doesn’t look upset at being woken up, only concerned.

“What happened, Kid? You okay?”

“He’s fine.” Pepper reassures Happy, “One of the plates broke while he was holding it.”

“Oh.” Happy eyes first Peter then Pepper. He knows there’s more to the story but he lets it be as he fully steps into the bathroom to help assess the damage.

The two of them have him cleaned up in no time and Happy sends him back to bed with strict instructions to get more rest. He can hear the two of them whispering as he does as he’s told. He knows they’re talking about him but he finds he just doesn’t care. His head touches the pillow and he’s asleep within moments.

“Petey?” Peter looks down into Mr. Stark’s eyes. Except that isn’t right because he doesn’t usually have to look down at Mr. Stark. He clinches his hands and relaxes them. Does it a second time.

“Petey?” A small hand pulls on his jacket and he blinks. Morgan is staring up at him, a look of concern on her four year old face.

“Hey.” Peter breaths and offers a half smile to the young girl. It’s the best he can offer at the moment.

“Will you help me make some cheeseburgers?”

Peter blinks at the question and then gives a small laugh, “Cheeseburgers huh?” He glances around the yard. Rhodey, Bucky and Pepper are sitting on the porch. Thor, Steve, and Sam are visiting the alpaca. May and Happy have gone for a walk around the lake.

He looks back to Morgan and reaches out a hand, “I think I can handle some cheeseburgers.”

They end up grilling out by the lake. Happy and Rhodey take over the grill after Peter manages to burn the first batch of burgers. He actually manages a smile as they tease him. Morgan climbs into his lap at the picnic table as she waits patiently for her cheeseburger. He offers her the first one off the grill but she shakes her head. When Harley tries to take a burger for himself Morgan shouts, “No, wait.” And so they do. They wait until all the food is on the table and everyone has a seat. Pepper turns to Morgan and says, “Mo, can we eat now?”

Morgan shakes her head and everyone who was about to dig in settles back.

“Sweetie?” Pepper asks quietly leaning across the table, “what exactly are we waiting for?”

And everyone's breath rushes out as she says, “Daddy.”

No one says a word.

Not a word. Pepper has her hand over her mouth and she shakes her head. Once. Twice. And Peter can tell she needs help. If there was ever a moment he could prove to her that he could be this her support this was it. But he can’t do it.

May, bless her heart, takes Peter's hands from Morgan’s waist where he knows he was beginning to squeeze and she smiles sweetly at Morgan, “Sweetie, you know your daddy is gone right?”

Morgan nods her little head but glances to Happy innocently, “But Uncle Happy said Daddy’s favorite was cheeseburgers so I thought if we made them he would want to come back.”

“Peter, stay with me.” May whispers as she pulls Morgan into her lap but he can’t. He just can’t and he moves from the table and runs into the forest as quickly and quietly as he can.

After that, Peter finds he can’t sleep again. He hears everything in the house as the hours and days tick by. Thor snoring in the living room. May and Happy watching a movie in the guest room. Rhodey, Bucky, and Sam are quietly talking on the porch. Pepper silently crying in her room.

He’s had plenty of rest but he feels like his senses are still in overdrive. He’s not sure if it's from what happened on Titan or the incident with the cheeseburgers or if he’s just that exhausted, but he feels the irritation building up again.

Then he makes the mistake of asking May for some clothes. Her face drops as she lets him know that all his clothes had been donated. It had been five years, so of course he understood.

But he needed clothes and so Happy shows up in his room later with a handful of shirts and sweatpants. Peter takes one look at the top tshirt and instantly pushes them back into Happy's arms.

“I can’t.” He tells Happy, “I can’t.”

Happy tries to push them back to him but Peter turns away, “Does Pepper even know?”

Happy steps into his room and drops the pile of clothes onto the end of his bed, “Of course. She heard you and May talking and brought them to me.”

Peter shakes his head, “Happy, I can’t.”

Happy stops his pacing with a hand on his shoulder, “Peter, it’s just clothes.”

“But it’s not.”

A squeeze of his shoulder and tears spring to his eyes. Peter digs the pad of his hands into his eyes forcing the tears away, “I can’t Happy.” He says in a horse voice.

“I get it, Kid.”

Happy leaves but the clothes stay.

After that May and Happy decide it’s time to take Peter home. That, maybe, he’ll be able to rest if he isn't reminded daily of Tony. Peter doesn’t agree with them. But he doesn’t argue about leaving either. Doesn’t have it in him to.

Pepper finds him standing on the dock as Happy and May load up the car, “How are you feeling?” She asks him gently.

He turns and gives her an off smile. She returns the same smile. The smile you give someone when your entire world has flipped upside down but you know everyone around you just wants to know you’re okay. So you fake like you are for their benefit.

“M’okay.”

“May said you’ve been out here on your own for awhile.”

He doesn’t respond right away. The breeze from the lake blows across them and he can see Pepper's hair dancing in his peripheral.

“I’ve missed so much and yet.”

She turns to him then, “He left you a message.”

He turns to face her, his eyes wide.

“Just you. He left it in his garage. His lab, which is now yours.”

“Mine? I don’t understand.”

Pepper tilts her head and brings a hand up to brush his hair from his forehead. The wind just pushes it back but she smiles fondly, “You don’t, do you. You don’t see how much he loves and cherishes you. How he spent every single moment you were gone going over what he did wrong.”

Peter shakes his head, “He didn’t….”

“Oh, I know that and you know that, but this is Tony we’re talking about. He never felt peace these past five years.”

Peter's eyes drop from hers and he steps away from her, “I’m so sorry.”

Pepper sighs loudly, “I just don’t understand how you can be so different and yet so much like him at the same time.” She grabs his arms and squeezes, “I’ll tell you exactly what I told him every single day for the past five year. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.”

He refuses to lift his eyes to hers and she sighs again, “So, the lab is set to only let you in at this time. There is no rush for you to go and see the message, you do it in your own time. However, forewarning Morgan is used to going into the lab with her dad and I fully expect you to carry on the tradition.” Her hands slide down his arms and she wraps her fingers around his hands, “I fully expect in the future to be frustrated because you and Morgan spend far too much time in there tinkering, instead of doing what I need. Peter,” She waits for him to lift his eyes to hers, “I expect you to be the big brother she believes you to be.”

Tears fill his eyes and the smile she gives him is genuine, “You were his ‘Kid’. You now have a four year old sister.”

Tears fall and his mouth opens and closes in search of how to respond. He is both honored and horrified. Pepper just smiles softly and leans in to hug him. He manages to return the hug weakly and she turns to leave him once again alone on the dock.

She’s to the end when she calls out to him again and he glances over his shoulder at her, “I will tell you every single day of your life it wasn’t your fault if I have to, Peter Parker.”

“I would never doubt you Mrs. Stark.”

#iron family #iron family fanfic #peter parker #pepper potts #tony stark #morgan stark #happy hogan #spiderson #spiderman #my writing

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darlington-v · 3 years ago

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awesamdude, ranboo and badboyhalo. i need to know what everyone’s favorite piece of cursed lore is

Awesamdude: who do you think is the best builder on the SMP?

ok these are probably typical answers but like... honestly foolish, sam, and tubbo. snowchester is like... really pretty and nice PLUS the bee n bee or whatever is REALLY nice i really like that build. i also really like the big innit hotel! and foolish is foolish like im obsessed with all the kinoko kingdom builds.

Ranboo: who do you think are the best actors on the dream smp?

honestly? schlatt, ranboo, tubbo, and dream. i think dream may seem a little over the top sometimes but i think its because his role is pretty over the top. like sometimes his shit feels like he's overacting but i think sometimes its more so just that... maybe not everyone is giving the same amount of emotion??? thats not always either tho like theres a lot of scenes that feel level and smooth to me that he's delivered some bangers, but just... a lot of emotions he's delivered have made me go like OOOHHH SHIT.

tubbo is also like a SUPER underrated actor on the dream smp. i think its kind of because new fans like were upset when he initially reacted to tommys death but no one talks about how he literally had a big exhausting stream after and wasn't notified and like... yeah. literally he's delivered like the most banger lines in terms of emotion. like the way he stutters in fear is super good, plus like "hbqlwif" PLUS. ANOTHER LINE FROM THAT STREAM?? NO ONE TALKS ABOUT??? tubbo fucking SCREAMING big q. like he's taking crit after crit and he's like calling for quackity's help. and like... i dont know i just think he's got a lot of good stuff no one ever talks about.

ranboo is up there for me as well! like he gets plenty of praise, but i do think he's an excellent actor when he wants to be. i think he's... repetitive sometimes???? like pretty sure its intentional but theres a point in repetition where its... It's time to move on. HOWEVER THIS IS MORE SO A CRITIQUE OF HIS IMPROV NOT HIS ACTING. MOVING ON. ranboo is always like... really good at this like very high emotion scenes and it's always been pretty satisfying to watch!!! a lot of the lore where he then later comes in and he's like yeah i cried! thats... usually my favorite. like not because he cried but it's more so like no yeah that makes sense because that was a heavy scene! like him screaming "put me in the prison, sam" is one of my favorite scenes but he definitely has like a lot more that i'm... obsessed with. and like... yeah looking at it from an outside point of view, sometimes it's like kinda funny bc its edgy emotion and dialogue for... a minecraft rp but like damn i dont give a fuck like same goes for dream. like they give these very over the top performances but its not in this.... weird... unenjoyable way for me. i think they can get across these like... incredibly sincere and raw emotions sometimes and it's really cool! and funny because it's minecraft.

NOW... SCHLATT??? LIKE IDK MAN JUST... SCHLATT. END ESSAY. no but really i think like... the motherfucker is SO good at acting!!! like his inauguration speech? dude. holy fucking SHIT dude. like he delivered ALL of his lines on the smp EXTRAORDINARILY well. like idk its hard to elaborate bc it feels like common sense i guess its just MMMM SCHLATT'S ACTING MAN. HE'S SO GOOD.

BBH: what piece of cursed lore is your favorite

i answered this already but ik u kno that but like i said its probably the fridge lore plus anyhting related to mexican dream! i just think its funny. i hate sally and fundy lore tho. its the owrst cursed. like i dont actually hate it like its fine but I Hate It you know?

THANKS FOR THE ASK!! LATE RESPONSE BUT YEAH!

#asks #ask game #warped-m0ss

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years ago

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A Christmas to Remember

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Reader/You

This is my Secret Santa gift as part of the #Pedros12DaysofChristmas to one @mickeymouse-moshpit who wanted some fluff. This is my first time writing for Whiskey and I had a lot of fun with it. (Also, I sent an anon a while ago but I dont know if you ever saw it, or if tumblr ate it, so if you specified anything else my apologies!) I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Talks of loss of childhood dog, Whiskey mentions his deceased wife. Some anxiety issues in the form of trying to be a people pleaser.

It was a few days before Christmas Eve, and most of the Statesmen were spending the day catching up on paperwork before heading out on vacation. That is where you were; stuck in your office finishing up reports.

It has been a rough couple of weeks for you. A mission you went on a week ago, went terribly. Your CI had gotten killed, and you had almost walked into a trapped that could’ve been the death of you and your team.

Thankfully, another agent who had been your backup got you out of there before anything could happen. Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels had been a literal lifesaver that day.

Then on top of that, your childhood dog had passed away over a month ago. He had been about 15, so his passing wasn’t too shocking, but it still broke your heart. He had been with you through so many changes: college, jobs, moves, break-ups. This was the first Christmas in years, that you would be spending it alone.

So, here you were typing up the last report before the holidays, with a smidge of dread.

It was as you were editing the report that you saw Whiskey making his way out of his office across from yours. You had always thought he was extremely handsome. He was a flirt, sure, but he was damn good at his job. You had been trying to figure out how to properly thank him for days since he saved your ass.

You bit your lip as an idea popped up in your head, and found yourself chasing after him, trying to catch up before he got on the elevator.

“Hey Whiskey!” You called out when you see him waiting for the elevator, just ahead of you.

He turned around, slight confusion on his face as he watched you run up to him.

“Where’s the fire darling?” He asked slight concern in his voice.

“Sorry. Um. Was wondering… do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?” You slowly asked, trying to not sound too winded.

“Uh. Not much. I’m on the graveyard shift both nights. Why you ask honey?” He questioned curiously.

“Well. I tend to have a small dinner at home and watch cheesy Christmas movies. I was wondering if you would like to join me? No one should spend the holidays alone or at work,” You offered with a small smile, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

Whiskey stared at her surprised. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Um. That’s mighty kind of you. I may take you up on that. I’ll let you know, yeah?” He finally answered not knowing what to say.

You nodded your head, somewhat excitedly.

“Great. No pressure though! I just… don’t want to be alone to be honest. But um. Just let me know, okay?” You said with a wave as you walked back to your office.

You go back inside, finish your edits and sent off the report for review. It was as you were gathering your things, that you realized that what you said… sounded a little guilt trip-y.

You winced as you thought more and more about it. When you got down to your car, and was simply sitting in it, you decided to text him.

‘Hey, umm. I’m sorry if what I said early made you feel awkward. I just wanted to do something nice for you after that mission last week. If I overstepped or made you feel weird, I am sorry.’

You hit sent before typing out one more thing.

‘If you want… we can just ignore that whole conversation.’

You sent it and then threw your phone over into to the seat next to you, not wanting to look at it ever again.

You made your way home and soon enough you were walking upstairs into your apartment. As you set your stuff down, you checked your phone expecting something horrific. There was nothing. You unlocked it to see the conversation, wanting to be sure nothing had been said. All that was there were your two messages. So, you continued on with your night, checking your phone occasionally.

Two days later, it was Christmas Eve, and you still had yet to hear from Whiskey. You simply sigh in resignation that he was either weirded out by you, or just wasn’t interested.

You began cooking your dinner at about 11am. You tended to make a lot of food, despite it usually only being for one person. You loved leftovers and it meant not having to cook a lot for a few days. It was about 3pm when you were fixing up the ham, getting ready to put it in the oven, when you heard a knock at the door.

You stared at it confused before walking over to it. When you opened it, there was a man you didn’t know standing there.

“Uh. Can I help you?” You asked awkwardly looking at him and the dishes he was carrying.

He looked at you then at the door number, and went, “Aw. Shit. Sorry. Got off on the wrong floor. My bad. Um. Merry Christmas?”

You laughed a little and said, “Merry Christmas to you. Enjoy whatever you’re about to eat, it smells delicious!”

He threw a ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he walked away. You close the door and went back over to your ham. You finished preparing it and set it in the oven, creating a timer for it.

You were in the middle of cleaning up the slight mess that had been from that and was setting the table with everything that you had made earlier when another knock came to your door.

You walk over with a sigh, mentally preparing to direct another person who was at the wrong door. But upon opening it, you were surprised to see Whiskey standing there instead. He was wearing a simple black polo and jeans, a white cowboy hat in one hand and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm.

“Hi,” He greeted with a small smile.

“Hey,” You were shocked to say the least.

It took a moment for your brain to start functioning again before you realized you had yet to let him in. You stepped aside and he walked in setting his hat on a rung on the coat rack.

“I uhh… I brought some white wine. I remember you saying you’re not a fan of red,” He stated showing you the bottle.

You smiled at him meekly, and asked, “You remembered that?”

He nodded with a small smirk, “I only remember the important things.”

“My preference in wine is important?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed. I find most things that you tell me about yourself important. How else would I be able to woo you?” He fired back his smirk growing.

You felt your face warm with embarrassment before clearing your throat, “Ahem. Um. Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes. There’s plenty to snack on as well, so help yourself.”

You made your way into the kitchen to get a bottle opener and a pair of wine glasses. Whiskey followed you, taking the opener from you gently. He quietly opened the bottle and poured the both of you glasses.

He then picked up both glasses and took them over to the couch, holding them, waiting for you to join him. You sat down next to him and took one. You clinked your glasses together before taking a sip.

You turned slightly to look at him, leaning back on your couch.

“Are you uh… still doing the graveyard shift tonight?” You politely asked, fiddling with the stem of your drink.

“No. I’m not. Decided against it,” He answered softly.

“Why uhh… why did you agree to do them in the first place, if I may ask?” You inquired, propping your arm up on the back of the couch to rest your head on it.

“Nothin’ better to do. Haven’t really celebrated the holidays in years. Not uhh. Not since my wife died,” He admitted with a flinch.

You stared at him, horrified. You didn’t know what to say. What does one say after that?

“I’m sorry… if this.. if this bothers you, you don’t have to stay,” You whispered feeling awful.

“It doesn’t bother me. Not as much as I thought it would. To be honest, I had planned on saying no. But. I don’t know. Somethin’ kept naggin’ at me to go. Maybe it’s cause yer the first woman in years that I’ve truly been interested, if it’s not too forward of me to say?” He confessed looking you in the eyes.

As you met his gaze, could see the honesty in his eyes. You set your glass of wine down, and got up, to walk over to the fridge. You reached in and pulled out 2 beers.

“Drinking wine doesn’t quite feel right for the current mood,” You lamely joked handing him one of them.

He chuckled softly and murmured in agreement.

“I lost my dog a month ago… Old age. Passed away in his sleep. ‘Best way for a pet to go’ as I’ve been told by everyone. Never really knew just how quiet this place can get without him. Thought about getting another to fill the void but I don’t know… None quite measure up I guess,” You told him before taking a swig of beer wincing slightly at taste of it mixing with the wine.

“I was about to ask, I remember you talking about him a lot,” He said with a nod.

“I know it’s silly, to not want to spend a holiday alone when your usual company was a dog-” You began to explain before he cut you off.

“It’s not silly to me. Now, I’m not quite sure who put that in ya head, but he was yer family. Just because he was a pet, doesn’t invalidate that or your grief,” He began, his hand gently brushing against your cheek. “I’m just… happy that ya asked me to come be with you.”

You smiled in appreciation, your hand reaching up to touch his as you leaned your cheek into it.

He slowly moved forward, his eyes glancing between yours and your lips, silently asking for permission. His lips slowly met yours a moment after you nodded your once. You kissed back just as hesitantly. His hand at your cheek, slowly slid into your hair bring you closer.

The kiss was slow but with each second that passed, the both of you gained more confidence. The kiss became deeper and more passionate. Your hands slid around his neck, slowly burying themselves into his hair. His other hand was fiddling with the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin he found there.

The only reason why either of you pulled away was to suck in some much-needed air as you felt your lungs burn a little. You wanted to go back for more, but the kitchen timer was going off, signaling the ham was done. The both of you chuckle as you took in the state of each other: lips swollen, hair a mess.

You quietly stood up to go take the ham out of the oven. The both of you fixed up a plate, and began to watch a few Christmas movies, curling up next to each on the couch. You were about halfway through the Nightmare Before Christmas when you paused it to put your plates into the sink.

“Before we continue… I.. I got you something,” You said to him walking over to your tree.

You picked up a small box that you had labelled as “Whiskey.”

The both of you returned to the couch, as you handed him the present.

He opened it stating, “I didn’t get you anything. Now I feel a bit bad ‘bout that”

As he opened the box to reveal a watch his breath caught. He looked at it and then slowly turned his wrist to look at the watch he had on. It was almost identical to the one he wore now, just silver instead of gold.

He pulled it out gently, examining it. What really got him was when he saw the engraving at the back. It had his name… and the name of his wife.

His gaze turned to you in confused amazement.

“I’ve seen you prepare for missions a lot, and when I first started, I was one of the people who had to lock up personal items when the mission called for extreme discretion. I noticed on your watch it had a name on it. I didn’t know who she was, but I figured she had to be pretty important to you. You mentioned a while back that it broke, and no one’s been able to repair it. So, I tried to find one that looked similarly,” You explained biting your lip.

He looked at you for a moment longer, before turning back to the watch. He gently set the watch back into its box.

You opened your mouth to apologize when he stopped you… by pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was brief but passionate.

“Thank you, darlin’. That’s… that’s the kindest thing anyone’s done for me in a long while,” He whispered against your lips, as he reached up to wipe away a tear that had escaped.

“You’re welcome. I was hoping you’d like it. I was worried you’d hate it,” You admitted.

“You worry too much. You need to stop worryin’ about upsettin’ everyone all the time. You are one of the best agents we have, and everyone adores you,” He assured you, kissing you again and pulling you into his arms.

You smiled sheepishly at that and nodded. You curled back into his side, and he held you as close as possible. You continued to watch movies until you fell asleep, feeling safe and warm next to him.

As morning came and you slowly woke up on the couch, a blanket covering you. As you sat up, looking around, you realized you were alone. You got up looking around trying to see if he left a note.

As you walked toward the kitchen to your phone, you realized that it had been cleaned up. He had put away and saved the food that had been left out.

She checked her phone and saw that there was one message waiting for her.

‘Needed to go do some things. Merry Christmas, beautiful. If it’s alright, I’d like to see you again tonight?’ -Whiskey

You sent a quick response back, ‘I would love to see you tonight! Merry Christmas!’

The rest of the day you went and hung out with some friends for Christmas and did gift exchanges. When you finally came back home, it was late in the day. You set the presents down and freshened up really quick before Whiskey arrived.

It didn’t take very long before you heard a knock on the door; perfectly timed since you had just finished cleaning up. You could feel yourself get excited at the thought of seeing Whiskey again. You walked over to the door to see Whiskey standing there with a large box in his arms, that was brightly colored.

You stared at him, slightly confused at the box. It was as you stared at it that you noticed a shimmer of silver. He had put on the watch.

“Hey darlin’. So. Funny story. I went out planning to ask a friend a question… when I saw something in an alleyway,” He began to explain hesitantly.

He slowly lifted the lid off to reveal a puppy. “He was alone. Took him to my friend who works with a shelter and had one of those fancy scanner things that checks for microchips. Found none. When I told him where I found this lil guy, they said it’s a common place for people to dump pets.”

You stared at the puppy wide-eyed, vaguely aware of what Whiskey was saying to you. The puppy gave a small bark, and his tail wagged excitedly. You could feel your heart melting as you stared at him. You could feel your eyes swelling up with tears.

You slowly reached forward, holding your hand out to his face to sniff. He sniffed it once and then began to lick your hand several times, causing you to choke out a laugh. You then picked up out of the box and held him close to you.

He gave you several kisses before snuggling into your arms.

“I uh… I think I’m gonna have to keep him,” You said tearily as you held him.

“Those are happy tears, right?” He asked nervously.

“Yes. Very happy,” You answered with a laugh, moving back to let him in.

“I had planned on just askin’ my friend about any available dogs for you, thinkin’ maybe we could go find you one tomorrow when the shelter was open. Then I just found him on my way over. I ain’t a big believer in fate but…” He trailed off smiling as he watched you.

“You wanted to take me on a date to find a puppy?” She asked setting the puppy down to let him explore.

“Yes ma’am. I did indeed,” He replied stepping toward her. “Now, however, I think it’s gonna be a get supplies for the little rascal kind of date.”

“I’m good with that, but uhh… I do believe that I need to kiss you right now,” You said with moving closer to him.

“Oh? Is that right? Well then... please don’t let me stop you,” He drawled as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in as close as he could.

You giggled in response as you kissed him slowly and thoroughly, your arms around his neck. He kissed back, his arms lifting you slightly off your feet.

You broke apart when you heard a little bark at your feet. The both of you looked down to see the puppy staring up at the two of you, tilting his head.

You reached down and picked him up and as you held him, you looked at Whiskey who was smiling brightly at you.

“Not gonna lie, honey. This has probably been one of the better Christmases I’ve had in a long time,” He said fondly.

“Same here. Maybe uhh… when the holidays are over, we could go on some proper dates?” You proposed.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot,” He remarked pressing a kiss to your lips, before giving a small kiss to the puppy’s forehead.

You smiled and as the two of you spent the rest of the evening together, the both of you realized something. This wasn’t what you were expecting for Christmas at all, but neither of them will ever complain. This was a Christmas to remember.

#fluff #jack whiskey daniels #jack whiskey daniels x reader #whiskey x reader #pedros12daysofchristmas

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softbiker · 4 years ago

Text

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: talk about body image/dysmorphia, past ED’s, veganism (idk if that’s a warning???)

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: This is...very self-indulgent. But oh well. A continuation of the Agent 14 series, in which Steve finds another diet he wants to try and he needs some help getting started. As always, let me know what you think!

Sam finds him one afternoon, staring into the glow of the open fridge, in full superhero stance with his feet planted wide. Nothing abnormal about super soldiers looking for a snack; those boys can really put it away. But this one looks like he’s conducting an interview with the refrigerator contents - in his hand is a small notepad, a worn down pencil stub poised over it, and Sam can see little scribbles and tally marks covering the page.

“Uh…Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve doesn’t turn around, but Sam can see his deep-set frown in profile, harsh refrigerator light illuminating his lowered brows.

“What’re you doing, man?” Sam takes a couple steps closer and peers around those massive shoulders into the offending appliance. “That your grocery list?”

Steve finally looks up, blinking. Absently, he taps the end of his pencil against his chin.

“No, not a grocery list,” he frowns. “I’m just…taking stock, I guess.”

“We do inventory of the fridge now?” Sam sidesteps him, reaching for the orange juice. He still drinks straight from the carton and Barnes can just kiss his sweet ass.

Steve ignores him, sparing only an eye roll in response.

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, in a way only Steve Rogers can sigh about groceries. “Just got an idea, that’s all.”

Sam sips his orange juice as he watches him leave the room, more worried by that phrase than anything else Steve could’ve said.

**********

“I’m sorry - you want us to what?”

Steve crosses his arms and gives Clint his most authoritative frown.

“I’d like us to try a plant-based diet,” he repeats, looking at the faces scattered around the common room. This little “family meeting” didn’t warrant using the conference rooms on the upper floors; he had let everyone get cozy after dinner, helped dig through the couch cushions for the remote, and then made his little announcement.

“That means vegan, right?” Natasha says from her armchair, eyes on her phone in her lap. She’d started googling as soon as he proposed this little challenge.

“Woah, woah - hold up,” Sam raises a hand, sitting forward on the couch. “I know you’re not asking me to quit eating meat, Rogers.”

“And dairy,” Steve confirms.

“Eggs, too,” Wanda adds helpfully.

“No meat?” 41’s fingers curl into her baggy bacon-print PJ pants. Her lower lip wobbles. “No-no ice cream?” She looks to Clint, who immediately folds his hand over hers.

“There are plenty of plant-based alternatives-” Steve starts, his tone soothing.

“Is this because of that documentary you watched?” Bucky grumbles. He’s leaning on the back of the couch, eyes narrowed at his long-time friend. “What was the name…the one about the athletes who don’t eat meat…”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Steve glares back at him. “There’s plenty of evidence to suggest it gives them an edge in athletic performance, so why not-”

“Oh my god, Steve, we’re literally a team of superheroes,” Sam groans. “Earth’s mightiest heroes, and all that jazz. We’re already mighty! We don’t need this! I don’t need this!”

“That so?” Steve raises an eyebrow. One hand digging into his pocket, he produces the little notebook he was scribbling in a couple days before. “I’ve been making some notes-”

“Oh boy, here we go,” Clint mutters.

“In our fridge, the percentage of animal products is a little over 60% - that’s crazy high, guys.” Steve licks his lips, glancing at the skeptical faces around the room as he flips a page in his notebook. “Not only that, but as a whole, our consumption of takeout and highly processed foods has really gone up lately; the team ate a total of 23 meals from fast food restaurants in the last 2 weeks.”

“You’re monitoring our food, Rogers?” Natasha is looking at him now, though he almost wishes she weren’t. Her undivided attention is not for the faint of heart. Steve musters himself and pushes ahead.

“Look - let’s just try it, give it our best shot and then, in a month-”

“A month?” 41 cries, clutching Clint’s hand. “A whole month? But…but what about Bite?”

Oh. He’d forgotten. Sam and 41’s cherished food festival, held every July - a whole park full of food trucks, unlimited samples, live music. One of their photos from last year’s Bite was proudly displayed on the door of the fridge: 41 and Sam each chowing down on a massive bacon cheeseburger - a cheeseburger with Krispy Kreme donuts as the buns.

“Well…” he hesitates

“No. Uh-uh. No way.” Sam folds his arms across his chest and sinks back into the couch cushions. “There is no way you’re making us miss the best event of the year for another one of your health kicks.”

“Sam-”

“Besides! You and Tin Man can eat as much pizza as you want and still outrun a car,” Sam huffs. “No reason to make the rest of us suffer through another one of your diets. Not to mention that I’m not interested in just eating salad and broccoli…that’s depressing.”

Shoulders falling, Steve sighs and drops his notebook in his lap.

“Okay, well. Sam has spoken,” he says, quirking an eyebrow. “Anyone else?”

“Mm, I’m with Sam on this one,” Bucky shrugs, unbothered by Steve’s answering look of betrayal. “Sorry, pal, I guess I just don’t see the point…and besides, we had to go hungry for half our childhood. I’m not gonna live on rations now.”

Steve folds his hands in his lap, staring down at his knuckles with what looks for all the world like a pout. Maybe he should’ve made the team watch the documentary first…that would’ve gotten them excited. Hell, even he was inspired - after all, if a non-enhanced guy could train to carry over a thousand pounds, surely there was some kind of benefit to this lifestyle.

“Alright, how about this,” he pulls his last card, his last idea. “If I can make a meal that will convince you vegan food is actually good, would you agree to try it for a little while?”

Sam and 41 turn towards each other; he raises an eyebrow, she responds with a shrug.

“We can accept these terms,” Sam agrees. “But you’re really gonna have to wow us.”

“Yeah,” 41 nods, settling in next to Clint. “Bring out the big guns.”

From his place behind the couch, Bucky’s shoulders quake with silent laughter.

“You really played yourself on this one, pal,” he chuckles, shaking his head. Reaching across the cushions, he gives 41 a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, squirt. Your ice cream isn’t going anywhere - I’ve known Steve for a long, long time…” He smirks at a now exasperated Steve.

“…and Steve Rogers can’t cook for shit.”

**********

Steve Rogers, in fact, cannot cook for shit. But he’ll be damned if that will stop him from trying.

He’s swiping through recipes and grocery lists on his Stark pad, wondering if baking his own bread would be as easy as it seemed, when the text comes through.

Hey soldier. I heard you were going on a diet. That true?

Steve snorts and chews his lip, thumbs hovering as he thinks over his reply.

Yeah, it’s about time I got in better shape.

Feeling a bit silly, he watches the little dots in the text bubble as she types back a reply, and tries not to feel too pleased with himself at the cluster of laughing emojis she sent.

Well, listen. I’ve been vegan for a while, actually, so if you need any help I’m here!

An eager leap in his heart, and his thumbs fly over the keyboard once more.

Oh, really? In that case…I’m not sure if I can really handle cooking by myself. I have a terrible track record in the kitchen.

Another laughing emoji. They didn’t teach you that in the army?

Shockingly no.

Someone (Wanda? Peter?) may have told him something about double texting, but he can’t help himself as he quickly follows up his text with another.

Anyways, I’m desperate. And the team is desperate for me to not burn down the tower, haha. Can you help a guy out?

Waiting for a reply, his knee bounces under his desk and he clicks the pen in his hand over and over, hardly hearing the annoying little noise as his thumb reflexively twitches on the button. When her response buzzes on his screen, he almost flinches.

Tell you what. Today is my day off, and I needed groceries anyway. Trader Joe’s in an hour?

**********

“What on earth are those?” Steve stares incredulously at the basket. “And why are they…not orange?”

“They’re called Hawaiian sweet potatoes and they just grow that way,” 14 laughs as she reaches for a display of squash next to the potatoes.

“That’s not a sweet potato - I know what a sweet potato looks like,” Steve says, obstinate brows crowding together. Shaking her head, 14 just turns away from the squash towards the avocados on the opposite side of the produce aisle.

“Oh boy, you’re gonna learn a lot being vegan…” she sighs. She squeezes a couple of avocados, testing ripeness and feeling the size before she chooses two and adds them to one of her produce bags. With a satisfied nod, she settles her hands on her hips. “Okay, next on the list: tahini.”

Looking at the cart, Steve can’t tell what his dinner is going to be.

“Tahini? What are we gonna do with that?” He wonders what it is, too, but doesn’t ask.

“Eat it, Rogers.” Smirking over her shoulder, she grabs the front of the cart and pulls him along towards the condiments aisle. “What on earth would you do without me?”

“Die a carnivore, I guess,” he shrugs.

“Hm. Tragic.”

**********

“It’s practically foolproof - all you have to do is cook this, roast the sweet potatoes, and then we’re gonna throw it all in together.”

“Never underestimate my ability to totally ruin a meal.” Steve says, stirring the quinoa. An adorable scrunch wrinkles his nose as he turns to where she’s dicing the avocados. “Ask Bucky. Even army rations taste better than my cooking.”

“You must be very confident in yourself to admit that,” she smiles back. Cheeks warm, he turns back to the pan with a shrug.

Silence stretches between them for a few moments, the quiet of shared work - from the other room, they can hear the TV playing, occasional laughs from Sam and 41 as they catch up on episodes of Brooklyn 99. Outside the windows, the summer sun sinks steadily lower, golden hour glow illuminating the skyline and filtering into the kitchen. She’s barefooted, chipped blue polish on her toes, and her feet pad lightly across the tile floor as she moves her bowl of avocado chunks over to the island. The little sound makes his heart hungry.

“So,” he clears his throat. “How long have you been, uh, plant-based?”

“Hmm. I guess about 6 months or so?” She taps her fingers absently against the marble countertop as she thinks. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Wow. Why did you start?”

“Someone dared me,” she winks at him. “No, but really. A friend challenged me to do it with her for a month…and then I realized I felt great and didn’t miss the animal products so much.” She shrugs. “I had more energy, I felt stronger, my skin looked amazing - trust me, after a week, you’ll practically be glowing.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder with a melodramatic flair, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, a playful smile dimpling her cheeks.

He laughs with her, shaking his head. “Oh, thank god. My skin is a nightmare.” His sarcasm sparks her laugh again, and it inflates his chest even more. He feels light, easy, weightless as the dust motes floating through a sunbeam between them.

Her giggles die down when her phone timer buzzes, signaling her to check the roasting potatoes in the oven. Sidestepping him, she leans down carefully in front of the open door, waves of heat assaulting them both as she pokes and prods the vegetables with a spatula. “Perfect,” she closes the oven door with a satisfied nod. “Just a few more minutes. And it looks like that’s almost done, too.” She gestures to his pan and hands him a lid to cover it. “You can go ahead and turn the burner off - the water has cooked out, so we’ll just need to let it sit.”

With the rest of their ingredients prepped and waiting in a neat row on the island, they slide onto a pair of barstools as 14 sets another short timer on her phone. Steve takes a sip from his beer, leaning an elbow on the counter as he turns to face her.

“Have you always liked to cook?” he asks. In his mind, there are a million questions - they roll over each other, constantly trying to push their way out of his mouth, his overwhelming curiosity wishing he could crack open her shell through sheer force of will. Instead, he drums his fingers against the counter, picks at the label on his beer bottle, scratches his beard, and waits for her to speak.

“Oh, no, not at all,” she laughs at the question. She’s not facing him, but she smiles, fingers lightly tracing the stem of her wine glass. “Actually I used to hate it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Surprised?”

Steve is surprised - her kitchen confidence certainly impressed him. Not once has she consulted a recipe, or googled how long to roast potatoes in the oven, how to make lemon tahini sauce. Things that would’ve left him completely stumped and likely going hungry.

“A little. You really seem to know your way around a kitchen, that’s all.”

“Well…” she takes a deep breath, and he can see the shape of it forming in her mind: whatever it is she’s about to tell him, whatever she’s preparing to say - it matters. With a fortifying gulp of wine, she knots her fingers together and forges ahead. “I used to have a lot of…um, body image issues, you know? Super critical of myself, low self esteem…it got pretty bad for a while.” She doesn’t elaborate, because he doesn’t need to know and how could she even begin to tell it? Too many cups of coffee and too few meals, the feeling of a toothbrush in the back of her throat. It hurts her now, the memory of that girl who thought that making herself less would somehow make her enough. She reaches for the wine again. Steve stays quiet, his eyes watchful and soft. It hurts him, too.

“Yeah?” he murmurs.

“Yeah.” Glancing at him, she licks her bottom lip, before turning her eyes back down to her hands. “Anyway - cooking helped me learn how to actually take care of myself.” A half-hearted little shrug, a self-conscious smile. “That’s really all there is to it.”

He nods, holding her gaze, his eyes flicking back and forth between her own. Her shoulders curl where she sits a little hunched at the stool, bare feet tucked up on a bar that ran between the legs of the stool, one knee bouncing rapidly. A minute ticks by, then two, the kitchen gone quiet and warm, hazy with the smell of a good meal.

“You know, a long time ago, before I was…this-” He gestures to himself, his big shoulders and tree trunk thighs, the massive everything of him. “- before the serum, well, I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures. Or a documentary,” he smirks, a little rueful. “I was less than half the size I am now - short, skinny, no matter how much I ate my ribs stuck out. Buck used to try to help me train, doing pushups or learning how to box, but I was still so weak. A strong breeze could’ve knocked me over, probably - plus, I had asthma, and I was always getting sick with one thing or another…honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t die before the army got me.”

It coaxes a mirroring smile from her, one elbow propped on the island. She shuffles on top of the stool, turning to face him fully.

“I thought…I don’t know, I thought I’d feel…different. Better, once I was stronger.” He shakes his head, chuckling at himself. “But it was more like…I was just in the wrong body. I kept bumping into things, hitting my head on doorframes; I took up more space than I thought I should.” Letting go of his beer, he spreads his hands in front of him, turning them over alternately and staring at the broad palms, the strong fingers, crisscrossed with veins and scars. “Drove myself crazy trying to sketch. I kept breaking my charcoal, snapping pencils…it was like trying to draw with another person’s hands.”

“Did you get used to it?” she asks. The hand not occupied with her wine glass reaches out to gently take hold of his wrist. A delicate thumb drags across his pulse, and she looks down at the lines of his palms, still uncalloused and pink. Her hand cradles his large one as she brings her eyes up to his own.

“More or less,” he shrugs. “Sometimes I still pass a mirror and do a double take.” More often than he would admit, in fact. He thinks of all the mornings he comes home from a brutal run - double marathons, barely sweating - and sees himself getting into his shower, a god he doesn’t recognize staring back at him.

She nods. She understands.

“Taking care of yourself helps. I think - it never quite goes away, but…” her smile is sweet. Hopeful. “The little things. They help.”

Turning his wrist, he grasps her hand with his own. Her skin is soft and warm; smaller fingers slide between his thick ones. Once, a long time ago, their hands would have been the same size.

Just as he opens his mouth to speak, her phone buzzes, vibrating against the counter and startling them both. As she withdraws her hand, she grins up at him.

“You hungry, Rogers?”

“Starving.”

**********

They take their bowls into the living room, joining Sam and 41 on the couch. Steve does his best with the chopsticks at first, but he still hasn’t gotten used to it. In the name of efficiency, he switches to a fork so that he can shovel the food into his mouth faster.

“Woah - what is that?” Sam leans over to get a better look. He sniffs the air. “Damn, it smells amazing.”

“It’s called a Buddha bowl,” 14 says, politely covering her mouth to conceal the sweet potatoes she’s still chewing. With her fork, she strategically arranges the next bite, collecting a little bit of everything: quinoa, potatoes, tahini sauce, avocado, greens. “Because it’s pure bliss,” she adds, before neatly shoving the next forkful into her mouth.

Steve hums in agreement, his own cheeks stuffed full. His bowl is half empty already. Peaking around 14’s shoulder, Agent 41 licks her lips and makes eye contact with Sam.

“I mean…maybe, we could try making some?” she shrugs her shoulders. “With a little Yum Yum sauce, too, I bet that would be good…” Sam is already nodding in agreement, pulling out his phone to look up a recipe.

“Don’t worry,” 14 smiles, patting her friend’s thigh. “I made plenty for everyone.”

As the other two scramble up from the couch and into the kitchen, she catches Steve’s eye and winks.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x agent 14 #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers x reader fic

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thecassadilla · 4 years ago

Text

Thankful

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 3,202/AO3

Summary: Anna and Kristoff have some special news to share with their family at Thanksgiving - though, the idea of sharing it brings forth some anxiety on Anna's behalf.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 2 - Orange! Funny story about this one - it came to me in a dream. Literally. I was having a really difficult time coming up with an idea for this prompt and then two weeks ago, I had a really vivid dream that involved Anna and Kristoff talking in their kitchen and preparing for Thanksgiving. Long story short, I was really giddy when I woke up because my subconscious brain did all of the thinking for me (except actually write the fic - when I figure out how to do that I’ll let you know lol). Enjoy!!!

“Okay, okay, okay,” Anna started, running her fingers through her hair. “We have one hour before everyone gets here.”

“Please calm down,” Kristoff begged.

“I can’t help being nervous. The real question is, how are you not nervous?”

“I’m more nervous about the possibility of you breaking your ankles in those heels - why are you wearing them in the house?”

“I want to look nice.”

“You look great,” he assured her.

“But you can tell? It’s obvious?”

“No I can’t tell. Your outfit does a great job of hiding it.”

Wearing a billowy top tucked into low-waisted pants seemed to have done the trick, just like the Internet said it would. Her hand fluttered to her abdomen and she looked down. “I can tell.”

He chuckled. “Because it’s your body. Of course you can tell.”

“My boobs,” she said suddenly. “They’re going to notice that my boobs are huge.”

“That would be a strange thing to talk about over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“They don’t have to talk about it, they just have to notice. And they’re going to notice when I’m not drinking, either.”

“I thought we were going to tell them today.”

“We could,” she faltered. “Or we could wait until Christmas.”

“You want to wait another four weeks?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

His face softened. “If that’s what you want, then we can wait.”

“I want to tell them, but I’m nervous. There’s really no harm in waiting, right?”

“Well, you’re already thirteen weeks. Fourteen weeks on Sunday. And the doctor said everything looked great last week. But if you really want to wait another month…”

She shook her head and exhaled. “You’re right, we should tell them today.”

“If you want, I’ll be the one to tell them. You can sit there and smile and hold my hand and you won’t have to say a word until they start congratulating us and asking questions.”

“Do you think I should be the one to tell them? You know, because I’m the pregnant one.”

“Whatever you want, Anna. We can do this however you want to.”

“We should probably start by taking the ultrasound pictures off of the fridge,” she said, rushing over to the fridge and pulling the pictures off. “Why did we decide to host Thanksgiving, again?”

“It was your idea,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “You wanted to show off the house.”

“Oh. Right.” She looked down at the pictures of their baby and smiled before holding them out to him. “Here, hide these somewhere.”

He took them. “I’m not going to hide them. Your sister will want to see them.”

“You have to put them somewhere for now. Unless that’s how you want to tell them - by thrusting pictures into their hands and saying ‘surprise, here’s a picture of the baby that’s going to come catapulting out of my wife in six months.’”

“You,” he said, wagging his finger at her and standing up, “are a very funny lady. I will put these in the dining room, where no one can see them, so that way when the time comes I can pull them out and show everyone.”

“Okay, and while you’re doing that, I’ll check on the turkey.”

“The turkey won’t be ready for another couple of hours,” he called as he walked toward the dining room.

“Then I’ll check to make sure the table is set.”

“You set it this morning,” he reminded her.

“Well I need something to distract me.”

She walked into the dining room and observed the set table; a cream colored tablecloth rested on the table, and on top of it was an orange runner decorated with beaded leaves. The table was exactly as she’d left it; five plates, five sets of cutlery, five cloth napkins, and five glasses. This time next year, there’d be a high chair. It was surreal to think about.

“I think you came to see where I was putting the pictures,” he teased.

“I didn’t, but where did you put them?”

“In the hutch.”

“What if my sister goes in there?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. “Your sister is not going to rummage through our hutch.”

“No, but if she wants another plate, she may go in there.”

“Fine,” he said, opening the door and retrieving the pictures. “I will put them on top of the hutch. No one can reach it other than me, and no one has any reason to be looking for something on top of our furniture.”

“Okay,” she agreed with a sigh.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed, gently prodding her back towards the kitchen.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, tilting her head back. “Will you rub my feet later?”

“As you wish,” he promised, giving her one last squeeze before kissing her cheek. He washed his hands before walking over to the stove and turning off one of the burners. “And with those shoes, you’re definitely going to need it.”

“You could say that again.”

He walked over to the sink and drained the water from the pot he was holding, sending a cloud of steam into the air. “I really don’t think you should wear them.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He sighed, placing the pot back on the stove. “I’m going to finish up with the mashed potatoes, do you want to put the rolls in the oven?”

“Sure.”

“I figured we could eat the salad and the rolls first. And then we’ll heat up all of the sides again before we eat the main course.”

“There’s going to be so much food,” she commented, retrieving the baking tray from one of the cabinets and the dough from the refrigerator.

“At least we’ll have plenty of leftovers.”

She arranged the dough on the tray before sticking it into the over. “When do you think we should tell them? When they first get here?”

“I don’t think we should set a designated time. I think we should just let it happen how it happens.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“And you have to try to act like yourself - they’re going to notice something’s up if you keep acting all...weird.”

“I know,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “I’m nervous and excited and overwhelmed.”

“It’s just Elsa, and Honeymaren, and Ryder. We know them. They’re going to be happy for us. Thrilled,” he assured her. “And frankly, I’m still kind of surprised that you didn’t tell your sister the moment the test came up positive.”

“I wanted to, but I also wanted to wait until we saw the doctor and confirmed that everything looked good. Maybe next time I’ll tell her right away.”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself,” he warned with a chuckle. “How about we focus on the one who’s not even here yet instead of the next one?”

The doorbell rang before she could respond and she froze in place.

“Breathe,” he reminded her. “I’m going to get the door, you try to stay calm.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

He held out two hands, instructing her to stay, before darting off to answer the door. The house was instantly flooded with voices and before she knew it, they were walking into the kitchen.

“Hi,” she smiled tensely. “I’m so glad you all came.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Honeymaren assured her.

“We brought a bunch of different desserts, and a sweet potato casserole with marshmallows, and green beans,” Elsa said excitedly, setting a bag down on the counter.

“We have just about everything else,” Kristoff chuckled.

“And we brought wine,” Honeymaren added, patting the bag that was slung over her shoulder. “Lots and lots of wine.”

Anna and Kristoff exchanged a glance before Kristoff spoke up. “Actually we’re actually not drinking tonight, so there will be more for you guys.”

“What? Why?”

“Bet,” Anna answered quickly. “We’re trying to see who can go the longest without drinking alcohol and I am determined to win because the loser has to -”

“La, la la,” Ryder interrupted, placing his hands over his ears. “We don’t have to know what weird, kinky stuff the loser has to do.”

“I was going to say do all of the dishes for a month, but okay.”

“Sorry that my brother doesn’t have any manners,” Honeymaren said, glaring at the younger man. “I’m also sorry that he doesn’t know how to dress for special occasions.”

“I don’t understand why you’re all so dressed up for a holiday that’s about eating,” Ryder remarked. “You aren’t going to look so nice if you spill food on yourself and you’re going to wish that you wore stretchy pants by the end of the night.”

“I doubt any of us are going to spill food on ourselves,” Kristoff pointed out. “We’re all adults here.”

“I know...you’re really starting to look like a dad, man.”

Kristoff burst out laughing. “What on earth does that mean?”

Ryder motioned to his clothes. “I don’t know, you’re, like, wearing dad jeans and a sweater over a button-down. You look like your someone’s father. Or like your wife dressed you.”

“That’s enough,” Honey interrupted, placing a hand over Ryder’s mouth.

“I’ll show you all to the dining room,” Anna said, changing the subject. “You can sit down and make yourselves comfortable, and we’ll bring in the salad and the rolls.”

She led them to the dining room, and they took their seats. Kristoff brought in as much as he could carry, setting it down on the table and then going back for more.

“Help yourselves,” Anna insisted, returning to the kitchen for one last moment of solace. She placed a hand over her tiny belly, hoping that it would reassure the baby as much as it reassured herself.

When she finally sat down a few minutes later, she was immediately overcome by an obnoxious odor, though she couldn’t place what the scent was. After a few more breaths, she realized that it was the vinaigrette that dressed the salad, which happened to be placed right in front of her on the table. Her nose was sensitive from the hormones and she knew that if she was forced to continue breathing the scent in, she would be very sick. She swallowed, attempting to breathe through her mouth so the smell of the vinaigrette wouldn’t upset her stomach any further.

Elsa raised a concerned eyebrow. “Anna, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” she answered shakily before abruptly standing up. “I’m just going to go check on the turkey.”

Three pairs of eyes watched as she practically ran from the dining room, before diverting their attention to Kristoff. “I’ll, uh, go make sure she’s okay.”

He found Anna standing over the sink, her hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered, glancing back to make sure that no one else had followed them into the kitchen.

“You have to move that salad away from me. The smell is making me sick.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “When we go back in there, I’ll move it.”

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, the nausea slowly but surely fading away. “I really should check on the turkey while I’m in here.”

“Take your time, there’s no need to rush.”

After a few more moments of controlled breathing, the nausea passed. She opened the oven, a burst of warm air hitting her in the face as she peered inside. “Oh, the timer thing popped out. I should take it out.”

She grabbed two oven mitts and leaned down to remove the pan from the oven, but Kristoff stopped her. “You shouldn’t be lifting something that heavy.”

“It’s not heavy at all.”

“Let me do it, please.”

“Fine,” she groaned, sliding the mitts off of her hands and thrusting them at him.

He slid the pan out and placed it on the trivet that was laying on the counter. “We have to let it rest for a while before we can start carving it. Do you feel well enough to go back inside?”

“Yes,” she answered, taking one last deep breath.

“Turkey’s done,” Kristoff announced to their guests when they returned. Said guests were staring at the couple with anticipatory eyes. “Is everyone done with the salad?”

A chorus of yes’s rang out, and Kristoff removed the dish from the table completely, bringing it back to the kitchen. Anna breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down, grateful that the smell had dissipated from the room.

“Are you okay?” Elsa asked again.

“Me? I’m fantastic,” Anna answered, an unconvincing laugh escaping from her throat.

“It’s just that you looked a little...unwell.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I swear, I’m fine.”

Elsa exchanged a sidelong glance with Honeymaren, but the conversation was dropped. The rest of the meal was spent discussing current events and shopping plans as opposed to Anna’s health. She mostly stood quiet, holding Kristoff’s hand under the table and allowing the gathering to happen around her as opposed to being a part of it.

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet, Anna,” Honeymaren remarked with a smile.

“Hmm?” she hummed, her head snapping up. “Oh, sorry. I must’ve been daydreaming. What did I miss?”

“We were just talking about the trip Elsa and I went on to Alaska.”

“Oh right! How was that?”

“It was great,” Elsa piped up in a strained voice, and it became clear to Anna that she had missed the entire Alaska discussion. “We went to the Aurora Ice Museum, and the Running Reindeer Ranch, and we got to see the Aurora Borealis. It was a lovely trip.”

“That sounds really nice,” Anna smiled.

Kristoff cleared his throat. “How about you all go relax in the living room? Anna and I will get things cleaned up in here and ready for dessert and then we’ll join you.”

“We can help,” Elsa offered. “It’ll be quicker.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “You’re our guests.”

The trio hesitantly stood up, exchanging a few harrowing looks before heading towards the living room. In the meantime, Anna and Kristoff collected all of the dirty dishes and silverware and brought them into the kitchen.

“Just put all of the dishes in the sink,” she directed. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

“Have you decided what we’re going to do?”

“About what?”

“The baby,” he whispered. “We’re telling them tonight, right?”

“Oh. Yes?” she said, her voice laced with uncertainty.

He cocked his head. “Anna.”

“What?”

“We have to tell them.”

“You’re right,” she nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“When the time is right, though. It has to come up naturally.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “But if it doesn’t come up naturally, I’m going to spill the beans.”

“Deal.”

They wrapped up their chores in the kitchen, prepared the dining room table for dessert and headed into the living room to join the rest of the group. Ryder had made himself at home in the reclining chair, and Honey and Elsa had claimed part of the sectional to themselves. Anna and Kristoff sat at the opposite end, relaxing into the soft cushions.

“Anna, you’re going to love the dessert we brought,” Honeymaren said. “Chocolate cream pie!”

“Oh, I can’t eat chocolate. It makes me sick,” she responded nonchalantly. She didn’t realize what she’d said until the words had already escaped her lips, instantly growing flustered.

Elsa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What? Since when?”

She looked to Kristoff for guidance, and he offered her a small nod of encouragement before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She exhaled deeply before blurting, “I’m pregnant.”

“You are?!” Elsa exclaimed, bringing a shaky hand to cover her mouth. “That’s so wonderful, oh my god.”

“Congratulations,” Honey gushed.

Ryder pointed an accusatory finger at Kristoff. “I knew you were dressing like a dad for a reason!”

Honey reached over and gently smacked him upside the head. “Ryder, stop being rude.”

“Oh, right. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Anna smiled, all of her anxiety finally melting away. She looked over at Kristoff, who was smiling just as brightly. “Would you mind getting the pictures?”

He nodded, and made his way to the dining room to retrieve the pictures.

“Can I hug you?” Elsa sniffled, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Of course,” Anna said, standing up. She pulled her older sister into her arms and hugged her tightly.

“I was worrying about you all night. I was convinced that you were really sick and didn’t want to spoil the holiday,” Elsa explained. “But I’m so, so happy for you and Kristoff.”

“Who wants to see the pictures?” Kristoff asked.

“Elsa first,” Honey insisted.

Elsa pulled away from her younger sister and accepted the pictures from her brother-in-law. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed. “How precious.

“When are you due?” Honeymaren asked.

“Late May,” Anna answered with a smile.

“Are you going to find out the sex?’

“We haven’t decided yet. I want it to be a surprise but she wants to know,” Kristoff said, nudging Anna with his elbow.

“I’m a little impatient,” she giggled. “I really want to know.”

Elsa passed the pictures to Honey, who curled her lip at the sight of them. “Awww.”

“Wow, it actually looks like a baby,” Ryder commented as he peeked over his sister's shoulder to get a glance at the pictures.

“You’re never going to be invited here again,” Honey warned.

“Most importantly, how have you been feeling, Anna?” Elsa asked, ignoring the minor sibling squabble.

“I’ve been really feeling good aside from the morning sickness,” she laughed. “More like all day sickness - I can’t even smell certain things or I get sick. But other than that, I’ve been feeling really good.”

“I’m so happy for both of you,” Elsa said jovially. “I want to know everything.”

“How about we tell you everything over dessert?” Anna suggested. “Chocolate may make me sick, but I still have quite the sweet tooth.”

Elsa nodded, and Anna exchanged a relieved look with Kristoff. His reassuring smile reminded her that he’d been right all along; their family was thrilled and excited, and there had been nothing to worry about.

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

“My feet are so sore,” Anna whined, as she collapsed on the bed that night. “I hope you’re ready to make good on your promise, mister.”

“I’m ready,” Kristoff said, sitting at the foot of the bed. He took one of her feet in his hands and began to massage it. “Tonight went really well.”

“I know, I’m so happy,” she said, sighing contentedly and relaxing against her pillow. “And I’m so relieved that everyone knows now.”

“See?” he remarked. “And to think that you wanted to wait until Christmas.”

“What was I thinking?” she giggled.

“You were worried. It’s normal.”

“Now I have one less thing to worry about,” she pointed out. “We don’t even have to worry about doing the dishes tomorrow anymore because my sister and Honey did them.”

“And we have a lot to be thankful for.”

She nodded in agreement. “I’m thankful for you, and the baby, and our incredibly supportive family.”

He smiled warmly, giving the foot in his hand a tight squeeze. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

#kristannaweek2020 #kristanna week 2020 #kristanna #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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braindeadskeletons · 5 years ago

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okay so ! id like to ask for a matchup if thats okay !! I am ! literally so all over the place , one second ill be in my room, petting my cat ( whos usually sleeping ), asleep, or listening to music, and the next ill be running outside in the middle of the night, rambling about the stars and how i cant see venus and how i /can/ see jupiter, which is probably a bi-product of my adhd that acts up sometimes ,, ( 1/2 )

Im. fairly short and like all of my friends are half a foot to a foot taller than me ,, i like drawing and playing video games a lot !! and taking care of little plants ive named ,, , i also !! really like soda but thats because im an edgy teen that lives off of pasta and anything thats gummy or fizzy ,, sorry if this is long by the way !! ( 2 / 2 )

Hello there, of course you can have a matchup! Don’t apologize for it being long, your information was the perfect length! Alright so reading through your information I had a bit of a struggle with it. Not because I couldn’t come up with any matches but it was mainly because I had way too many for you and I’d like to settle on just one per person unless you’re poly and I can come up with two matches for you in which case I will I went through the possibilities of Undertale Sans totally not because of your love for space which is basic ik and even Undertale Papyrus i have no reasoning for this tbh I just thought it’d be adorable to see. You also like pasta so and there's a few more on the list. Eventually, I landed you with the skeleton below!

I match you with Underswap Sans!

Just like you, Sans can confidently say that he is also all over the place. Is there ever a time where he isn’t doing something extremely questionable? The answer is no. Papyrus can personally vouch since he’s been dealing with the chaos for years. You both are pretty much two balls of energy made to form a chaotic duo. One minute the two of you are sitting and chatting away happily and the next Papyrus is watching the two of you unleash hell on the world because you two got even the slightest bit bored. It’s a horrifying sight, truly. Does it keep him up at night? Yes. Regardless he’s still just glad that you’ve made his older brother so happy.

During your late-night adventures Sans will often take you out on a motorcycle ride anywhere that you’d like to go! Movies? Done. Edge of a cliff to watch the stars? Done. Dinner? Done. You name it and he’s already bouncing off the walls in excitement to spend time with you! His favorite moments with you include you rambling on about planets and stars as he just admires how attractive he thinks you are. Sans will definitely try and throw in some ideas of his own if you didn’t like those previous ideas. If you don’t like going out much, he’d instead offer you a night in the house where he makes you some of his famous (infamous) tacos! If you’d literally rather do anything except eat his poisoned meal he’ll offer to just sit with you and play video games, which is a side hobby of his anyhow. Be warned: he can and will challenge you to literally anything. Even with games like Animal Crossing, he’ll somehow manage to make it a competition. Who can take down capitalist Tom Nook the quickest? Only an epic fight to the death can tell literally just you planting flowers meanwhile Sans is losing his shit over turnip prices

While he’s in your home 100% expect him to be harassing your cat to try and be besties. And also a number of your plants. You see since you named them he kinda thinks now that they’re some sort of monster in disguise. Or they’re just a monster that strikingly looks like a plant and they’re messing with his cute date-mate! Can’t have that.

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You, watching silently:

Plant: [photosynthesizing n shit]

Sans: LEAVE MY DATEMATE ALONE INTRUDER

Plant:

Plant: [wind moves leaf]

Sans, powering up an attack: GET BEHIND ME HUMAN

You, panicked: SANS PLEASE IT’S JUST A PL-

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He’s a danger to society, your cat, and also a number of your plants. Try to keep him in check.

As for your sleeping habits, he may or may not scold you just like he does his brother. Sans will be a lot more lenient with you compared to his brother however, because he knows humans need plenty of rest! But he is (not) down for your eating habits. Sans will allow you to eat the food that you normally do but in regulation. If you want him to shut up about your habits just hand him one of your sodas. It’ll give him this huge sugar rush and eventually he’ll come crashing down. This method is guaranteed success but also not recommended but a soda induced sugar rush is (intense) Once again, Papyrus will vouch for that himself with how many times he’s offered up his honey to his brother.

No matter what you do he’ll be pretty bitter about how you love pasta so much. Sans would rather dust than give his Undertale self that satisfaction of his own date-mate liking pasta. He’ll just have to work hard to convince you otherwise! And quickly before UT Papyrus hears of this.

With your art, Sans will literally DIE if you draw him. He’ll get so excited and be everywhere and ramble on and on about how much he appreciates the fact that you think he’s worthy enough to draw! He’s going to prove to you that this wasn’t a bad decision! Need him to stand still? His determination will make it happen. Need him to pose dramatically? Hell, he’s perfect for that! The universe agrees as well since somehow whenever he does pose for you his cape is flying in the wind. When you’re done drawing and you show him (even if it isn’t one of him) he’ll hang it up on the fridge and brag to every single monster he knows that you’re his amazingly talented date-mate!

#once again #sorry that this took me a hot minute #i'm very easily distracted #thank you so much for sending this in!#Undertale matchup #matchup #Undertale x reader #Undertale #Underswap #Underswap Sans #Underswap Sans x reader #x reader #reader #y/n

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noona-clock · 5 years ago

Text

Indefinitely - Part 3

Genre: Dystopia!AU

Pairing: Jaebum x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of death, some emotional angst

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 | Words: 2,608

“I think our best bet is to just stay here,” Jaebum stated. He then turned his head to face Youngjae, who was still trying to get the fire started in the fireplace. “If that’s all right with you.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Youngjae assured you, nodding.

You had to admit: you were incredibly relieved. Staying in one place was much more preferable than traveling around and being a nomad, not knowing where you were going to sleep that night, wandering mindlessly with no destination in mind.

“The power will probably go out sometime soon,” Jaebum continued. “We should focus on eating everything in the fridge and freezer in the next couple of days. We’ll be fine here as long as we have running water.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, and you grabbed the pillow next to you on the couch. “What about when we don’t?” you asked as you hugged the pillow to your chest.

Jaebum just shrugged. “I guess we’ll leave.”

You opened your mouth to ask where you would go, but Jaebum, apparently, knew exactly what you were going to say.

“I don’t know where we’ll go, but we have plenty of time to figure that out. ...Hopefully. I’ll keep thinking about it.”

“Yeah, same,” Youngjae murmured as he stood and headed over to his own couch-bed, the fire now just peeking out from underneath the logs.

“Me, too,” you agreed.

Jaebum’s eyes darted between you and Youngjae, his brows raised. “So, we’re all good with that plan?”

You nodded, and Youngjae answered with a soft ‘yes.’

“Great,” Jaebum said under his breath. He stood from the chair and asked Youngjae if there were any books he could read, and when Youngjae directed him to the front room down the hall, he nodded his thanks and headed out.

As you heard the soft thud of Jaebum’s footsteps retreating, you let out a soft sigh and hugged the pillow even closer to your chest.

“So...” Youngjae began gently. “What’s your story?”

Well, since he told you his, you figured it was only fair to reciprocate.

“My parents got sick a couple of days ago,” you said, focusing your gaze on the edge of the pillow you were holding. “And they told me to leave today right before they... I mean, I shouldn’t have stayed with them, right?”

“No,” Youngjae assured you without hesitation.

“I would’ve had to get them downstairs and out to the backyard and then I would’ve had to bury them and --” Your throat was incredibly tight with emotion now, and the tears were beginning to blur your vision. “-- and I don’t know if I could’ve done that. Even if I was strong enough to physically... I don’t think I’m strong enough emotionally.”

“Of course, not. Me neither,” Youngjae agreed, though you figured he was just trying to make you feel better.

You shifted your gaze to look at him as the tears began to slide down your cheeks. “But maybe I should have stayed. They’re gone by now, I know that. But they were still alive when I left. Shouldn’t I have at least been with them when they died?”

Before you could say anything else, Youngjae stood from his couch and shuffled over to you. He sat down and put a hand on your back, moving it up to squeeze your shoulder.

“You said they told you to leave, right?” he asked.

You nodded, trying to control your sobs as best as you could.

“So, that’s what they wanted. They didn’t want to put you through that - being there with them when they died. You would’ve had to leave anyway, but it would have been much harder for you to go if you’d waited for them to die. Trust me.”

“I know,” you choked as you reached up to wipe your eyes. “You’re right. I’m sor --”

Jaebum entered the living room then, and he paused briefly when he noticed your current situation.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t say anything. He simply drummed his fingers against the book he’d picked out and made his way over to his armchair.

Well.

Not that you expected him to comfort you, but maybe a ‘Are you okay?’ would have been nice.

And now that he was sitting down to read, you felt awkward continuing on with your conversation... so, you whispered to Youngjae that you were exhausted and should get some sleep.

Youngjae squeezed your shoulder once more and stood, going back to his couch-bed to settle in for the night.

You laid down on your own couch, and once you’d gotten under the blanket and pulled it up to your chin, you called out quietly, “Good night.”

“Night,” Youngjae replied.

...And silence.

Nothing from Jaebum.

Shocker.

You’d been trying to go to sleep for four hours now.

Four hours of closing your eyes, breathing deeply, rolling onto your side, your stomach, your back... and nothing. Not one minute of sleep.

By the sounds of it, both Youngjae and Jaebum had achieved what you couldn’t tonight. You were jealous, but you were also glad -- now you could slip off the couch, wrap your blanket around you, and make a quick but silent exit through the back door.

The air was crisp, and even though it was incredibly dark out, you were still able to find a bench on Youngjae’s back porch where you could sit. A soft groan escaped your lips as you sat, and when you leaned back against the hard surface of the bench, your head instinctively tilted up toward the sky.

“Oh, wow,” you breathed. Since it was so dark, the stars in the night sky were brighter than you’d ever seen them, and it seemed like there were millions of them.

And they made you feel even smaller and more insignificant than ever.

So, obviously, your eyes filled with tears for probably the sixteenth time today.

You wanted to say that you’d been holding it together for most of the day, but that just wasn’t true. You’d cried as you were leaving your house, you’d cried in the car, you’d cried several hours earlier when talking to Youngjae, you were crying now. And not just silent tears gracefully sliding down your cheeks -- no. Full-on sobs. Red, puffy eyes. Runny nose. The kind of crying that makes your head hurt after a while.

But you’d never experienced loss like this before. Your grandmother had died when you were much younger, but you’d hardly known her. She’d lived hours away, and you’d only met her a few times. You’d been sad, of course, and you’d felt terrible for your dad who’d lost his mother... but looking back, you’d had no idea the kind of pain he’d been going through.

Your parents had always been there for you, supporting you no matter what. They’d loved you and cherished you and raised you to be the person you are today. Without them... did you really even know who you truly were?

It kind of felt like you didn’t. You felt lost without them, like you had no idea where to go or what to do or how to think... or even how to live. This may sound dramatic, but your life just felt... kind of... meaningless now.

You had to wonder how Jaebum was holding up so well. He’d lost his parents, too. The two of you were in the exact same situation, and yet, you hadn’t seen him shed a single tear. He was exhibiting the strength you wish you had, moving on and getting things done and putting the past behind him.

You couldn’t do that yet. You couldn’t let go of what your life had been just a few days ago. You couldn’t, and you didn’t want to.

The creak of the back door opening interrupted your thoughts, but you were too tightly wrapped in your blanket (and too lost in your emotions) to turn around and see who it was.

More likely than not, it was Youngjae.

But, to your surprise, when someone sat down on the bench next to you and asked, “Are you okay?” the voice was Jaebum’s.

It’s funny because that’s what you’d wanted him to ask earlier. When he’d come in the room while you were crying to Youngjae, you’d wanted him to ask if you were okay, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t said a word.

And now that he had asked you, you didn’t feel triumphant. Or relieved. Or annoyed. You felt...

Well, it was a simple question, and right now you had a simple answer.

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head. “No, I’m not okay.” You leaned forward to rest an elbow on your knees, and you buried your face in your hand so you could continue on sobbing.

You heard Jaebum let out a soft sigh, and he said, “Yeah... me neither.”

You finally looked over at him, your brow furrowing in confusion. “But... you don’t seem like you’re not okay.”

“Like you said earlier,” he murmured. “People grieve differently.”

Yes, that was true. You had said that earlier, and people did grieve differently. So, you just tipped your head in a tiny nod before burying your face in your hand again. You were too caught up in your own emotions to think about how Jaebum might be grieving, but you knew one day -- soon -- you should probably ask him.

You let yourself cry for another minute or two, and then you came up for air. You leaned back against the bench, your shoulder brushing against Jaebum’s.

“I just...” you said weakly. “I want to go home. I know I can’t, but everything just happened so quickly. It’s a lot to get used to it, and it’s just -- it’s hard. I’m sorry for crying so much, and I’ll try not to --”

“No,” Jaebum interrupted. “It’s okay. Sorry if I’ve made you feel like you can’t. It just... makes me uncomfortable because there’s nothing I can do.”

Well, you couldn’t blame him for that.

“Cry as much as you need to,” he continued. “Do... you want to be alone?”

You shook your head, surprised to find that you actually did feel better with someone sitting by your side. Someone who knew what you were going through.

“Okay,” he whispered before settling back against the bench.

And then you heard the rustle of your blanket as he moved against it. You felt a hand come to rest hesitantly on your back. You felt him pat you gently a few times.

It was the tiniest gesture. Literally the very least another person could do to comfort someone. A pat on the back.

But coming from Jaebum? You felt like you’d just won the reassurance lottery.

He pulled his hand back after the few pats, but you still took it as an invitation to lean against him and rest your head on his shoulder. You felt him tense just a little bit. He didn’t put his arm around you, but honestly, you didn’t care. This was what you needed. You needed a literal shoulder to cry on, and if Jaebum didn’t want to be that for you right now, he shouldn’t have come out here.

But he didn’t move as you continued crying. He had tensed a little, but he didn’t move or push you away. He simply sat there. He let you cry.

You weren’t even sure how much time passed -- if you had to guess, you would say probably twenty minutes. Your eyes were finally dry, and the sharp pain in your head was throbbing from all the emotion you’d let out.

When you slowly lifted your head from Jaebum’s shoulder, he raised his eyebrows and glanced over at you.

“Better?”

You were about to nod, but... you realized you still had something on your mind. Something kind of big and really scary.

So, you shook your head.

“What if...” you started, your voice shaky and tentative. “What if one of us gets sick?”

Jaebum’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. “Sick as in --”

You nodded.

“Well, we know it’s not contagious,” he murmured.

“Yeah, but that also means we don’t know how people catch it.”

“...True.”

You gazed over at him with a deeply furrowed, worried forehead. What if he got sick? What if Youngjae got sick? What if you got sick? What if you all got sick and died?!

Well, if that happened, there would be nothing to worry about anymore, I guess.

But, still.

You know what I mean.

“Well...” Jaebum sighed. “If that happens... I don’t know. We’ll deal with it if we have to.”

You really didn’t like the sound of that, but you knew you really had no other option. Nobody knew how the disease spread. There was no way to stop it. There was nothing you could to do to plan for it.

So, you just nodded.

Jaebum let out another sigh and repeated his question from earlier. “Better now?”

You nodded again. For now, at least, you felt better. After getting out all the tears you could and getting that ominous question off of your mind.

“You need sleep,” he murmured, standing up. You waited for him to turn and offer you his hand to help you up... but he didn’t. He just slipped his hands into his pockets and stood there.

The guy had already patted your back and let you cry on his shoulder, though, so expecting him to hold your hand was a bit much.

You pushed yourself off the bench, wrapping your blanket more tightly around you. When Jaebum headed toward the back door, you shuffled behind him.

And then a random thought popped into your head. “Hey,” you whispered. “Did you notice how bright the stars are?”

Jaebum paused, tilting his head to look up at the sky.

You weren’t sure if you were just imagining it, but you could’ve sworn you saw a tiny smile tug at one corner of Jaebum’s mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered. “Look at that. I saw an Astronomy book in the bookshelf earlier, I’ll have to grab it and do some stargazing.”

And now a tiny smile was tugging at one corner of your mouth. “That sounds nice.”

You didn’t want to invite yourself, but it did sound nice.

Jaebum simply nodded and then looked back to Earth, continuing the path to the back door.

When he reached it, he opened it quietly for you, allowing you to shuffle inside first.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered as you passed by.

“You, too,” you whispered back, and you saw yet another tiny smile tug at one corner of Jaebum’s mouth.

As you headed over to your couch-bed, preparing to settle in again, you knew you couldn’t classify your relationship with Jaebum as friendly just yet. Things had certainly -- probably -- taken a step in that direction, but you would be foolish to think the two of you were friends.

And if you were going to be living in the same house for however long you still had running water, you did not want to make a fool out of yourself.

Honestly, though, you didn’t feel like you needed to be friends with Jaebum. At least, not yet. Did you want to be? Would it be nice to be friends? Of course. But right now, you needed to focus on yourself. You needed to focus on working through everything and getting to a place where you felt like you could actually function normally on a day-to-day basis.

And you had no idea how long that would take.

Part 4

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halstudandruz · 5 years ago

Text

Tiny Detail

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when Jay drops a bombshell from his past

Warnings: Swearing

You had always trusted Jay even when he was working with Erin after they had broken up you still trusted him. You were never given a reason to not. He was always honest with you, open to communication, learning from the mistakes of his past relationships. Both of you were open with each other, gladly handing your phones to each other without any questioning, not having anything to hide. So, you were a bit on edge whenever you noticed Jay taking his phone in the bathroom with him during his showers which he never did, always questioning you why you wanted his phone to look something up, reminding you that you had your own even if it was the whole way in the kitchen.

Packing your lunch for the day you heard a phone buzz. It was then that you realized Jay had left his phone on the counter. After a few seconds of fighting with yourself you reached over picking it up to see the name Abby light up the screen. Setting the phone down you reminded yourself you trusted your boyfriend and he would tell you if something was up. Two days had passed and Jay was still being as secretive as before and you were getting irritated. Sitting in the break room eating your lunch when the oldest Halstead brother walked in looking through the fridge.

“Hey Will?” You asked.

“Hmm?” He mumbled grabbing a drink.

“Who’s Abby?” You asked looking at him innocently as his eyes widened dropping the drink. A few seconds passed before he cleared his throat picking the drink up from the floor.

“I don’t know. Abby who? There’s lots of Abbys in this world. Why do you ask?” He stumbled for words not so subtly.

“Just curious if you knew one in particular.” You shrugged smiling sweetly throwing your trash away and brushing past him back out into the hallway. Getting a few steps down the hall you leaned against the wall shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath to calm your rapid heart beat, not loving Will’s reaction to your question. You reminded yourself despite your swirling thoughts that Jay loved you and he wouldn’t do anything to purposely hurt you, or at least you were hoping. After another few hours your mind was officially in shambles, unable to think of anything else. So, after your shift and confirming with Kim that Intelligence wasn't busy you headed for Jay.

“Jay’s a popular guy today.” Trudy said when you appeared before her desk.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“Red headed Halstead just came through here 5 minutes ago.” She explained making you laugh at the irony.

“Remind me murder is illegal, Trudy.” You shook your head, fuming as you headed towards the gate. Reaching the top of the stairs all eyes turned to you. Kevin and Adam pointed towards the break room immediately realizing your mood. “Thank you.” You smiled at them heading towards the back. Opening the door without warning you witnessed Jay and Will standing close whispering to each other, turning when they seen you walk in. Crossing your arms and raising your eyebrow you looked between the brothers.

“You’re on your own.” Will clapped Jay’s back avoiding your hard glare as he snuck past you.

“Okay, I can explain-” He started before you cut him off.

“First of all, remind me to never go to your brother for anything again. Secondly, if you’re going to cheat on me could you be a little more subtle about it. I was waiting for you to say something, but since you haven't, I guess I’m going to have to ask. Who’s Abby, Jay?” You got the question off of your chest.

“I’m not cheating on you.” He answered, matter of factly.

“Then who is she?” You repeated yourself.

“[Y/N], just hear me out..” He begged.

“Just answer the damn question, Jay!” You yelled probably loud enough those in the bullpen could hear despite the door being closed. Sighing heavily he finally answered,

“She’s my ex-wife...or wife I guess? I don’t know I’m taking care of it.”

“You’re fucking joking right now.” You laughed.

“I know I-” He tried, but you shook your head backing up towards the door.

“I can’t believe you. You’re MARRIED and you didn’t think that was something I should know?” You said.

“I thought it was done, I thought the papers went through, but she-” He tried to explain, but you laughed tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

“Jay, I can’t- I don’t even-” You searched for the right words, but couldn’t find them shaking your head in disbelief instead and walking out the door. Ignoring the curious eyes on you as you walked to your car. The fact that Jay kept this from you hurt. How could you not know that your boyfriend of 2 years used to be married, or...still is married according to him. Your head was spinning as you started off towards your apartment. Calling Kim once she had told you she was on her way home, spilling it all to her.

“Married? Are you sure?” She asked shock in her voice.

“No Kim, I didn’t just have a conversation with him about it or anything.” You answered sarcastically.

“Well..what are you gonna do?” She replied.

“I...don’t know.” You sighed heavily on the line. “I love him, but how could he keep something like this from me. I thought we told each other everything. I know he has a hard time talking about his past, but this seems like kinda a big secret to keep.” You explained.

“Good thing I know what we’re doing tonight!” She exclaimed.

“Kim, no. We both have work in the morning.” You groaned not appreciating her idea.

“We don’t have to get drunk [Y/N] geez.” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Be over in 20! Love you!” She hurried out.

“Kim! No!” She tried, but the line was dead. Throwing your head back with a loud protest you headed for the shower knowing you were getting dragged out no matter how much you didn’t want to.

————

Walking into Molly’s you were seated in the back corner with your friends. Having ignored plenty of texts and calls from Jay in the last hour. You watched Will walk in grabbing a beer and coming over to you apologetic look on his face.

“[Y/N]-“ He started, but you glared at him.

“You’re a traitor.” You crossed your arms against your chest.

“He’s my brother! I just wanted to warn him. It wasn’t my secret to tell.” He explained, which made sense. Sighing heavily with the weight of having to admit Will Halstead was right.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to take in. Could’ve at least gave me a heads up though.” You smiled at him slightly.

“I’ll remember that for next time he fucks up.” He replied clinking your glass.

“Yeah...I don’t know if there will be a next time Will, at least with me.” You admitted taking a drink.

“What? What do you mean?” He panicked for his brother looking at all those seated around your table.

“It’s just..a really big thing to not cover. He’s married Will, and not to me that is.” You shrugged.

“You’re really willing to throw what you have away because of a tiny detail-“ He started as you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Tiny detail!? Are you crazy. He-“ You started, but out of the corner of your eye you spotted your boyfriend..ex-boyfriend? Jay. You spotted Jay. Walking in but he wasn’t alone. “Who’s that bitch.” You scowled jealousy immediately boiling in you as you looked at the tan, gorgeous, brunette by Jay’s side.

“Down girl.” Kevin chuckled beside you, practically seeing the steam coming out of your ears.

“That..is Abby.” Will answered for you.

“Uh uh. Nope.” You shook your head slipping out of your seat heading towards them despite your friends protests. You weren’t drunk, but with the amount of anger coursing through your veins your conscience may have been a little far off. Sneaking up behind Jay you slid in next to him, hand resting on his thigh, interrupting their conversation. Turning to face you shock clouded his face,

“[Y/N]! What are you doing here?”

“Kim invited me out for drink. You know after the day I had. How kind right?” You faked nice and you were sure Jay was on edge with how this was going to play out. “Who’s your friend?” You smiled sweetly looking over at the girl who was staring you down curiously. Even more gorgeous up close making your heart sink even lower if that was possible. Clearing his throat you could feel his knee bouncing from nerves.

“This is Abby. Abby this is [Y/N].” He introduced not making eye contact with either of you. Extending your hand you shook hers gently, smile still on your face.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You greeted. “Sorry to interrupt I just had something to give Jay here.” Your smile faltered a little, heart literally breaking, you were pretty sure, as you slide his apartment key into his hand. His eyes met yours once he realized what he was holding, panic surrounding the emerald irises. Bidding goodbye before you turned around you surpassed your table going straight to the bathroom.

Head leaned against the wall you counted your breaths trying to calm your racing heart, and fight against the bile threatening to come up your throat. You heard the door open, opening your eyes to see Kim and Hailey standing in front of you. It was then that the tears spilled out both of them pulling you into a hug. After a couple minutes of silence you sniffled wiping the tears away laughing a little. They both looked at you like you were deranged.

“I’m sorry. My emotions are so fucked.” You admitted head falling into your hands.

“[Y/N], are you sure this is what you want?” Hailey asked.

“Ugh, I don’t know. I’m just so mad! I know I’m acting irrational, but ugh!” You started to pace.

“I know it’s a big secret to keep, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you. You know? It wasn’t like he knew he was still married.” Hailey tried to reason as you were interrupted with a knock on the door.

“Babe? Can I talk to you?” Adam’s voice muffled against the door. Giving you both confusing looks Kim walked out to meet Adam. You could hear them whispering but couldn’t make out the words until Kim came walking back in.

“Okay. Jay wants to talk to you.” She explained. Staring at her blankly you stayed still. “It’s up to you.” She continued.

“Where at? I’m sure as hell not having this conversation in a bathroom.” You crossed your arms.

“Hermann said you could talk in the back room? He has a soft spot for you two or something.” She shrugged. Closing your eyes tight you ran a hand down your face before nodding and walking to the back room.

When you entered Jay was pacing in the small space, his head immediately popping up when he seen you.

“Baby! Okay I know you’re mad, but just please hear me out.” He begged voice croaking a little making you waver as you nodded your head. Sighing with relief he took a deep breath before starting. “We got married in Vegas and it lasted like 24 hours. We were just both really fucked up at the time and we found comfort in each other and just did something really stupid. I’m sorry I never told you I just thought the papers had went through and it was done and over.” He rushed out.

“So you’re only telling me now cause you got caught, you weren’t ever planning on telling me?” You asked eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. She’s a great person. She deserves the world, but I’m not going to give that to her. I want to give that to you, [Y/N].” He swallowed hard. You looked him up and down taking in the tears glistening his eyes sighing before giving in and wrapping your arms around his waist. He relaxed instantly at your touch burying his face in your hair. “You know what we went through I wouldn’t take back because maybe then I wouldn’t have ended up here with you and I would never risk that. I love you so much.” He kisses your head hugging you tighter into him.

“Got any other secrets? Maybe a child out there somewhere?” You joked making him groan a “no” into your hair. “You have some making up to do. I’m not just letting this go.” You reminded him still pissed.

“What did you have in mind?” He asked backing you up slowly so your back was flush against the door his body trapping you against it before grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand lifting your face up so he could capture your lips with his.

“Hermann said we could TALK, Jay.” You giggled against his lips as his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your hips.

“Yeah, and we did, but now. We’re. Doing. This.” He punctuated each word with a kiss to your neck, and you were 10000% sure you were going to go through with it if you hadn’t spotted the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

“Jay-“ you croaked as he bit down on your collarbone lifting your hands above your head, “camera.” You explained enjoying his movements way too much. Huffing against your skin he turned to see the camera facing your way.

“Fuck. Guess I’ll have to wait till we get home.” He kissed your lips hard before backing away to open the door gesturing you out first.

#chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #jayhalsteadxreader #one chicago

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