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wildemaven · 2 years ago

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Saturdays with Javier: Always, Forever

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 1463

Warnings: Talks of death/loss; otherwise pure softness and fluff

A/N: This came to me late the other night and I’m a mess. I’ve been wanting to write more for these two, but didn’t want it to feel forced. This seemed like the perfect addition to their story. Hoping it flows well and doesn’t seem too rushed. The quote mentioned didn’t have a source that I could find, but if you happen to know please let me know and I will site it. Like always, this is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own doing. I also added some Spanish, it’s been many years since I’ve studied it or spoke it, so I apologize if I miss stepped and miss used any words/phrases, I used google translate (please let me know and I will fix).

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

His nerves are firing off the charts. This isn’t some planned raid he’s done with a crowd of well trained men behind him. No bullet proof vest to protect his rapidly beating heart.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

His gaze shifts from the ground below his feet, up and out to the faces sitting before him. All familiar in their own right. Each one bringing a sense of peace to his nervous riddled body.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

A few family and close friends sit under the old tree that’s tucked away on the back side of his father’s ranch. Draped in a simple white cloth, the tree has been witness to many life events throughout Javier’s lifetime.

It’s branches providing protection on the hot summer days as a teen. A spot at the base of the trunk he’d find himself when life felt the most unfair.

After the loss of his Mama, this tree was where her service was held. Many gathering beneath its coverage to celebrate the beautiful woman she was. That day Javier spoke about how much she meant to him and how he’d do his best to grow up to be the man she wanted him to become.

The branches continuing to provide protection even as a grown man. Each visit sitting in the same spot. He’d talk to his Mama here, not ever really sure if she could hear him. He’d tell her about all what had happened between each visit. It’s where he shared with her his thoughts and feelings. He’d told her about the DEA and how he’d be leaving for Colombia— expressing it would be awhile before he would be able to visit again. Each visit to this spot he felt closer to her. Before he would leave, he’d look up through the crown of branches and leaves and tell her he loved her, “Te Amo Siempre”.

Steve, Connie and Olivia are among those gathered today— they wouldn’t dream of missing this day. He nods to Steve, a silent thank you for the many hours of travel to be here.

Your parents sit in the first row of the few chairs scattered about. Hands clasped together in your mothers lap. She smiles up at him and it feels like a warm hug. Your Dad gives a slight nod, a silent thank you to Javier for being the partner he wished for his daughter.

Across the isle, Chucho sits in his finest suit. His signature cowboy hat blocking the afternoon sun that’s filtering through the leaves. He’s holding his late wife’s handkerchief tightly, already anticipating the waves of emotions the day will bring.

Beside his pops is an open chair. Something you’d suggested in the early stages of planning as a way to honor his Mama. A single rose sits on the seat, picked from one of the many roses bushes Chucho still tends to for her all these years later. Javier knows his Mama would love you, you possess so many qualities similar to her own.

A breeze picks up, the branches swaying slightly and a sense of calmness washes over Javier. He looks up, the leaves dancing in delight and he can sense his Mama watching over this day.

The music shifts to the next song, cuing the walk he’s been waiting to witness for what feels like a lifetime. A guitarist strumming the beginning chords of the familiar tune, he insisted it be your song, as you make your way to him. He’s not sure he’s ever been so captivated by anything as stunning as you.

Your white dress flowing with each step you take— closer to him, closer to being his wife. He’s waiting for you, look so handsome in his black suit and bow tie.

You wanted to surprise him with something special for this day.

Weeks ago you had ask Chucho if would be possible to take one of his Mama’s old dresses to repurpose it into something for Javier. He was more than willing, and gave you one of her favorites. She’d worn it to so many family holidays and gatherings when Javier was younger, Chucho mentioning it was one of Javier’s favorites too.

Enlisting the help of Javier’s Tia, you made him a simple bow tie and pocket square. On the corner of the pocket square, you stitched his Mama’s initials, MP.

Last night after dinner with family, before parting ways, you presented him with a small box containing the handmade gift. You explained to Javier the story behind how they came to be, hoping he would love them.

He was beyond speechless at your generosity in making him something so special and meaningful. He held you close and you both cried together— not in sadness but in the love you shared for each other and what was to be.

Whispered words of gratitude danced across your lips, Javier doing his best to express his love for you and yet he feels like it’s not enough. The last shared kiss before seeing each again, parting ways beneath the starry night.

Your song carries through the emotion rich atmosphere, you feet guiding you to the row of seats taken by your mother and father. You turn to them, their smiles bigger than you’d ever seen before. Their arms wrapping around you, they each place a kiss on your forehead.

You turn around to see Chucho. He’s a blubbering mess, wiping the tears as you make your way to him. He stands and pulls you in— he tells you he’s never seen his son happier and more present since you stepped into his life. You thank him for everything he does to aid in Javier’s contentment as you wipe a few tears from his face.

You step around Chucho to the open chair next to him. Bending down you place your bouquet, a small bundle of delicate white flowers wrapped in a gauzy white ribbon, on the seat next to the single rose. You close your eyes and thank Maria for being with you today as you marry her son. And you promise to love Javier until your last breath.

Javier

It’s Saturday, it’s easily become my favorite day of the week. When you asked me to dance that Saturday night, I had no clue I was stepping into a forever.

A forever spent with you is what I envisioned on my drive home that night. I knew you were it for me, and since that day you continue to prove me right.

My life has a greater purpose now. It’s showing you how much you are loved daily and never letting your nightmares win. I will continue to hold you in the early hours of the morning so you know you are home and you are not alone.

I read a quote the other day and it feel so fitting for our life together.

“Someday when the pages of my life end, I know that you will be one of the most beautiful chapters.”

I promise you forever Javier. Forever with you will always be enough.

I love you Javier

Mi Amor

I never thought I was deserving of a life filled with love and happiness, but you showed me that I am.

From a young age, I kept parts of me tucked away from everyone, especially myself. Being vulnerable was too risky in the line of work I was in, and as the years went on I forgot what it was even like to feel anything but grief and despair.

When I came home from Colombia, it was hard to imagine a life of normalcy. Until I walked into that bar and asked a complete stranger to dance. I believe that moment is when I knew my life would become more fulfilling than I ever dreamed.

You see me, flaws and all, yet still continue to love me. My days are brighter now, and I owe that to you.

I promise this life together will be forever— because forever with you is a lifetime worth living for.

Thank you for loving me with your heart and soul. I will spend the rest of my life hoping I can make you feel as loved as you make me feel.

Te amo

Vows exchange and rings placed, he can’t help but admire you— taking it all in. A kiss shared that’s more impactful than any bullet that’s threatened his life.

He wipes the few fleeing tears from your cheeks. His touch, warm and delicate against your skin.

Declaring his love for you in front of those who mean the most was not anything he’d ever expected for himself. Now he doesn’t see a future where you aren’t with him, tucked securely into his side— loved and protected.

#Javier Peña #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #Pedro pascal #Saturdays with Javier #wildemaven writes

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wastelandmoony · 2 years ago

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Déjà Vécu: Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Home

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only!, angst, anxiety/overwhelming feelings, language, mentions of death and self harm, mentions of abuse.

Read on AO3

Companion Playlist

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

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June 24th, 1972

Dear Remus,

I miss you! I know it’s only been a week or so, but I’m already bored out of my mind. I hope your summer is starting out well. Did you get James’ invite? I think I’ve convinced my mum to let me go, she just has to talk to Mrs. Potter to figure out details. I hope you can come too, Pete will be there as well, I’m not sure about Sirius though.

Please get plenty of rest after the moon this week, and make sure to write me so I know you’re okay.

The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns Her perfect Face Upon the World below—

Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde— Her Cheek—a Beryl hewn— Her Eye unto the Summer Dew The likest I have known—

Her Lips of Amber never part— But what must be the smile Upon Her Friend she could confer Were such Her Silver Will …

-Emily Dickinson

———

June 25th, 1972

Lupin!

Everyone is staying over for a week this summer, and you need to be there! Last week of July. Mum said she can talk to your parents if that’ll help?

Miss you mate.

-James

———

July 1st, 1972

Dear Remus,

You’re doing it again, please answer us. I can’t spend all summer in the dark, it’ll kill me. We’re going to Jamie’s at the end of the month. Please say you’ll come too.

I hope you’re well.

———

July 8th, 1972

Mate,

You’ve gotta answer one of us. If I get another panicked letter from her, I’m showing up to your house myself.

-Pete

———

July 12th, 1972

Can’t write. I won’t be coming to James’.

Miss you too. See you in September.

R.L.

The letter was short and a little tattered. Remus’ usual tidy penmanship was now something scrawled hurriedly across the beat up piece of parchment. She read it over and over, trying to find something in between the lines that could clue her in to whatever was going on.

She came up with nothing.

———

July 30th, 1972

Mrs. Potter had given instructions on how to get to “the manor”, as she called it. She offered to apparate them over, but her parents insisted on driving themselves. Being a primarily magical little town, the sight of a muggle vehicle stunned any resident that happened upon it. She sat in the backseat of the old Volvo, watching as face after face of shocked, concerned, or intrigued witches and wizards passed by. As they turned onto Thistledown Road, the houses became larger and further apart. She wondered which one was Pete’s as they continued on, finally coming to a stop in front of an old grey-stoned home.

Potter Manor was impressive, but not extravagant; elegant, but not indulgent. It felt welcoming, though she had yet to even step foot on the grounds. The flower bushes and trees that lined the front walk were manicured neatly, but not in a way that made them look uniform, just tidy. As she and her parents made their way up the pebbled walkway, the deep oak front door opened, a cheery woman smiling ear to ear on the other side.

“Hiya! Welcome!” She chimed, extending an arm to usher them inside, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet in person, James has been talking about his new school friends non-stop.”

A man she recognized as James’ father emerged from an adjoining room, matching his wife’s smile and immediately extending his hand in greeting. Mr. Potter looked over at her, and she noticed the same glimmer of mischief in his eye that she always caught in James’.

“The boys are ‘round back if you want to join them,” he grinned, motioning down the main hallway.

She hugged her parents goodbye, eager to see her friends. Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder before she could run away, “Be good, listen to whatever Mr. and Mrs. Potter say, alright?”

Mrs. Potter tutted, “Oh please, call us Monty and Euphemia. Any friend of our James is part of the family now.”

She refused to call them that. Her parents raised her to respect her elders, so the thought of calling her friends parents anything other than a formal address was absolutely insane.

She nodded an acknowledgement at her mother before bounding off to find the two boys.

Potter Manor could be best describe as warm. Everything about it exuded a comfortable, homey vibrance; from the golden wood floors to the deep burgundy curtains (they really were Gryffindor’s through and through). She slowed her pace to briefly look at some family photos hung in the hall, watching as a young James zoomed around on a tiny broom while his dad watched on. Her parents were younger than his, and in these pictures they still looked older than hers were when they first had her. For being at their advanced age, they seemed to be pretty youthful.

Continuing down the hall, she passed through the French doors leading to the back garden, finding James and Peter flying around a set of quidditch hoops on the grass. Upon spotting her, James smiled and swooped down, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her a few feet off the ground.

“JAMIE!—“ she squealed and kicked her feet.

James laughed as he set her down, Pete landing alongside with a grin.

The old stone Manor sat on a large piece of land, the back garden stretching over acres of field and hills. She took in the sight of the large willow tree in the distance, standing watch over a decent sized pond. As ecstatic as she was to be here with her two friends, there was a big chunk missing.

James caught on to her sinking smile immediately, “They’re not coming…”

She had known the answer, just refused to believe it fully. James was upset about the situation as well, she could tell by the way his eyebrows dipped slightly in the middle. There was nothing they could do about it, so they set out to try and make the best of the week they had together.

If Mr. and Mrs. Potter raised James in any capacity like the way her and Peter were doted upon while staying at the manor, then she completely understood why he turned out the way that he did. Every morning they woke up to a full breakfast, Euphemia Potter scurrying around the kitchen with the aid of the family’s house elf. Monty would join the rest of them a short time later, asking for a full run-down on the day’s activities; she noticed that he asked less like a parent, and more like an enthusiastic participant. He would then engage in lively banter with the three of them about quidditch, something that she tried to keep up with as best she could. Over the past year of living in the Wizarding world, she had gotten into the habit of drawing a lot of correlations between magical and muggle phenomena. Quidditch, she had concluded, was a lot like football; everyone had a team they stuck by through thick and thin, the Potter’s being Puddlemere United. Pete’s family grew up supporting the Ballycastle Bats, something that drew great ire from both James and his father. She didn’t have a favorite team, quidditch or football for that matter, so she was just happy to be included in the conversation as a neutral party, eager to absorb as much information as possible.

“—you’ll have to come to a Cup with us next time!” James practically leapt out of his chair at the thought.

“Oh dear, yes you must. It’s always such a wonderful experience, even for me, and I could give a niffler’s toe about the sport itself,” Mrs. Potter called from the sink.

James and Peter began to ramble about the last time the World Cup was held in Britain back in the 60’s, while she watched a sleek tawny owl gracefully land on the windowsill over the sink.

“Oh! Fantastic, your supply lists have arrived,” Mrs. Potter sifted through the pieces of parchment, “I sent an owl to Dumbledore when we finalized these plans, and he was gracious enough to send all three to the Manor! We’ll make the trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow, sound good?”

The three of them nodded, while she thought about the last time she had tried to navigate the winding street with her muggle parents. Now that she knew what to expect, she couldn’t wait to make a day out of it.

———

Diagon Alley was bustling when they arrived, packed with students purchasing items for the new school year. This time last year, she was gripping her mothers hand while trying to traverse the sea of magical shops, completely overwhelmed and unsure of everything. Today, she was flanked by two of her best friends, bracketed in by Mrs. Potter who led the way through the winding cobblestone street. Their supply lists were virtually identical, classes would diverge next year when they would begin to choose their own respective magical paths. This year however, they were buying the same ingredients, books, and instruments, orchestrated and executed by Mrs. Potter; the three of them were just along for the ride.

As they left Dervish and Banges, she noticed a familiar dark haired boy exit an adjacent alleyway with a tall, severe looking woman; a younger version of the boy glued to her side.

“Sirius!—“ James called, waving aggressively at his best friend across the busy street. They couldn’t have have been more than a few meters away, well within earshot, yet Sirius did not give them so much as a glance.

She furrowed her brows, looking between Sirius’ downcast face, and James’ deflating expression. The younger Black shot a glare towards them, chilling her as they approached Flourish and Blotts. Mrs. Potter ascended the front steps of the bookstore, as James made one last attempt to get his friend’s attention.

“Sirius—“ he didn’t yell this time, just speaking loud enough for the few of them to hear. She watched as Sirius’ eyes quickly shot to James’, making no other physical move towards them. Pete sighed and began to follow after Mrs. Potter who was holding the door open, watching the exchange from afar. James’ eyes were pleading with Sirius, the latter boy fixated on a cobblestone in the street.

She grabbed James’ sleeve, pulling him towards the store, “C’mon Jamie…”

He hung his head, moving towards his mother who gave him a tight smile.

Before following, she looked back at Sirius, fists clenched at his sides as his mother spoke with another wretched looking witch behind him. His younger brother watched silently, pale eyes still boring holes into her.

“Siri…” she inched closer and reached out, grabbing onto his hand, which immediately relaxed, squeezing her fingers in return.

“WHAT HAVE WE SAID—“ his mother had practically apparated over, wrenching Sirius away by his other arm, “—ABOUT MINGLING WITH THE LOWER CLASS!”

“Lower class?…” she scoffed, finally meeting the eyes of Walburga Black. They were like dead stars, deep unending voids sitting high on her alabaster face.

“—do not presume to speak to me or my family! Just because Dumbledore allows the likes of your kind to attend Hogwarts does not mean that the rest of the magical world will be so tolerating—,” she spat, face contorting into a wicked snarl.

“—THAT WILL BE QUITE ENOUGH,” before she could respond, Mrs. Potter had strode down the steps, gently placing an arm around her shoulders.

“James, dear,” she spoke calmly while keeping a steady eye on Walburga, “please take everyone inside, get the necessary books and add it to our account.”

She squeezed her arm, letting her know to follow orders without argument.

Mrs. Potter squared her shoulders, her normally warm eyes now hard and unforgiving as she stared at Walburga Black. Sirius took the opportunity to slip away from his mother and slink into the store after James.

Inside Flourish and Blotts, the four of them crouched by the window to watch the exchange between the two witches. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but Mrs. Potter was pointing a finger in the pinched face of Walburga, mouth moving a mile a minute as the pale witch watched on with crossed arms, her younger son waiting with an indecipherable glare.

She glanced over at Sirius, his face gaunt and eyes tired. Snaking a hand down, she found his fingers again, squeezing them tightly as he intertwined them. The question didn’t need to be asked, he wasn’t okay, they all knew it.

After a few moments, Mrs. Potter began to walk towards the store, still speaking directly to Walburga, and Sirius straightened up.

“I’ve uh…I’ve gotta go…” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off his family outside.

She didn’t say goodbye, but instead threw her arms around his shoulders in a bone crushing hug. His arms snaked around her middle, burying his face in her shoulder. He didn’t make a move to let go, something that he had never done before. He clung to her like a lifeline for a few moments, steadying his breathing. Finally, he let go slowly, and she saw the tears in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away before nodding a goodbye at James and Peter.

“See you on the train…” he whispered before leaving the shop.

She watched as Mrs. Potter passed him, placing a comforting hand on the top of his head as he joined his mother, trudging off alongside his brother.

“—an insufferable woman,” Mrs. Potter huffed as she rejoined the three of them, shaking her head sadly, “Jamie, did you get the books?”

James shook his head, eyes downcast as he thought of his friend.

Mrs. Potter tutted, putting a hand on her sons cheek, “He’ll be alright, dear. Don’t fret.”

In true James Potter fashion, he immediately straightened up and adopted a stiff upper lip, nodding in agreement.

“Right then,” He clapped his hands together, “books…”

He quickly disappeared down an aisle full of tomes about transfiguration, Pete following closely behind with their lists. As she moved to pursue her friends, Mrs. Potter placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“…are you alright, love?”

She looked up at the older witch, giving her a small smile, “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you.”

Mrs. Potter’s eyes tore through her, a motherly look that mirrored her own. She placed a comforting arm around her small shoulders, ushering her in the direction that the boys disappeared to.

———

The final night at Potter Manor was her favorite, though bittersweet. After a day of playing pick-up games of quidditch in the yard (she was actually quite good as a chaser they found out), the Potter’s house elf orchestrated a barbecue on the back lawn, the five of them eating on the stone patio watching the sun set behind the large willow tree. Afterwards, Mr. Potter created a roaring bonfire to which he told old ghost stories and Wizarding fables to the three children. She had loved every second of it, only finding herself slightly afraid of one particularly chilling tale involving something called a boggart.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter bid the three of them goodnight around 10:00, the latter cautioning them to not stay up too late. They stayed in the sitting room until well past midnight, playing games of exploding snap and wizard chess until Pete eventually passed out against the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Jamie—“ she whispered as she picked up the playing cards, careful not to wake their sleeping friend.

James hummed in response, sleep evident in his drooping eyelids.

“—what do you know about Sirius’ family?”

She watched as his heavy eyes opened fully, mouth pressed into a grim line.

“They’re…one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight,” he said with a sort of finality to the statement, like it was all the excuse needed.

“No, I know that,” she murmured, “I mean like—well you’ve seen how Sirius is around them…”

James shifted in his seat on the floor, running a hand through his hair.

“The Blacks are one of the oldest pureblood families,” he sighed, “It’s what they value most, it’s even in their house words: Toujours Pur. Always Pure. They’re of the belief that muggleborns are not…worthy of using magic, that they’re somehow stealing it—“

“—but that’s not true! I didn’t—“

James looked at her sternly, “—trust me, I know. My family is pureblood as well, so it’s Pete’s, neither of us believe that load of rubbish. The Black family…they’re…well, they’re into dark magic, probably why the lot of them have been sorted into Slytherin for 500 years. My dad works at the ministry, and I’ve overheard him talk about some of them before.”

“What do you mean, ‘dark magic’?” She whispered, pulling her legs to her chest.

“Well, rumor has it that they’re followers of You-Know-Who…though it can’t be confirmed according to my dad.”

“…You-Know-Who?” She gave a questioning look as he took a sip from the now cold tea on the coffee table.

“You-Know-Who,” James’ voice became even quieter, “Voldemort, he’s uh…he’s a dark wizard. Has a lot of wild ideas about muggleborns, magical beings, and the muggle world. He wants to…eradicate anyone and anything that’s not pureblood or half-blood at least,” James’ trailed off, gaze falling to the carpet.

Her breath had caught in her throat, threatening to suffocate her completely.

“My parents have been talking about it secretly more and more. It started about a year or so ago, just whispers in passing, but now my dad is getting stuck at the Ministry longer and longer each week, and my mum is frequently having high ranking wizards and witches over for meetings in the study.”

Her voice came out as barely a whisper, “Jamie…what’s happening?”

James scooted closer to her on the floor, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. He was warm, and smelled like cut grass and bonfire smoke, the scent grounding her for a moment. Remus might be her other half, but James Potter felt like home.

“I’m not sure, but it’ll be okay. I promise,” he squeezed her shoulders.

“What about Sirius?” She tipped her head against his.

James paused for a beat before answering, something that did little to ease her worries.

“…Sirius will be fine. He’s—he’s stronger than you know,” He shifted uncomfortably.

“They’re—they’re hurting him. Aren’t they, James…”

The notion she had realized after Christmas holiday, the day Sirius showed up to Kings Cross with soulless eyes and a bruised exterior, had been living in the back of her mind ever since; never vocalized, or dwelled upon, but always present. The words weighed heavy in the air, the two friends grappling with an ever-darkening worldview.

James sighed, and she felt his fingers flex against her arm, “…yeah.”

Choking down the sob that was threatening to escape, she nodded in confirmation. He pulled her closer, until the two of them succumbed to sleep, leaning against each other in every sense of the word.

#marauders era fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders fanfic rec #marauders fic rec #the marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin angst #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #james potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction

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invisibleraven · 9 months ago

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T-R-O-P-E

Fills for the Favourite Fic Trope Bingo Card!

Okay babes, here we go! I took it upon myself to write a ficlet for every square of the favourite fic trope bingo card. I only have a few written, but I'm going to start uploading the few I do have and strive to have one fill a week. Warnings and pairings will be in the chapter summary, so you can skip any fills you like.

Trope: Major Character Death <-AO3 Link!

Warnings: What it says on the tin ^

Pairing: Ray/Rose

Ray can still remember the face of the doctor when he showed them Rose’s scans-his grim optimism, assuring them that Rose could beat this thing but the inner sadness to his eyes that made Ray aware the chances were slim.

Yet they didn’t let that dissuade them, because cancer might be tough, but Ray was confident that his wife was tougher. Rose was the bravest, strongest woman he knew, so there was no way she was going down thanks to some mutated cells.

She was a trooper through the whole thing, going to each chemo session, even as they made her tired and frail. Sitting there with a weak smile on her face as they pumped her veins full of poison that was supposed to help. Ray was there every time, reading to her, talking to her, keeping her occupied.

When her gloriously thick mane of curls began to thin, to come out in clumps, Ray helped her cut it short, then eventually buzz her head, even offered to do his own in solidarity, but Rose had put the kibosh on that. “I like your hair, especially since you went all silver fox,” she teased, running her fingers through his now grey locks.

“Watch now yours will come back in as dark as ever,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her now smooth scalp.

“Until then, maybe I could invest in some scarves? Or a fun wig?” Rose suggested. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a redhead.”

She made a devastating redhead, even though she was all skin and bones now, a dull grey pallor to her that made her seem so sickly. But her spirit never faded, always luminous and peppy, despite the tragedy that had befallen her.

That was until they did another scan, and the prognosis wasn’t good.

“It seems the tumor isn’t responding to the chemotherapy as we hoped,” the doctor intoned. “We can try surgery, then radiation to hopefully get rid of what that missed.”

“How successful is that course of treatment?” Ray asked.

“It’s greatly successful in most cases,” the doctor responded. “But I can’t make a promise that this will work-I don’t want to get your hopes up unnecessarily.”

“Can I take the weekend to think about it?” Rose asked. “This has been a very long day as you can imagine.”

“Of course,” the doctor stood, escorting them to the door. “But if this is what you want to do, it doesn’t do to leave it too long, we should schedule it for as soon as we can. Until then keep up the chemo-the tumor isn’t getting any bigger, which is the important part.”

They thanked him and walked to the car, the silence between them heavy and oppressive. Rose dozed off in the car, so Ray turned the radio off, taking the long way back. She slept so fitfully these days, even though she was constantly exhausted.

Ray didn’t know how to face Julie and Carlos when he pulled into the driveway-he already knew what Rose would choose. The cancer had done the unimaginable-it had beat Rose Molina.

He was tempted to shake her awake-she so hated looking weak and incapable in front of anyone. Instead he scooped her up, giving Victoria a weak smile as she held the door open, sure the truth was written all over his face.

They didn’t talk about it until they were in bed that night, the bedside lamp providing enough light to see just how tired Rose was, how draining this whole thing was on her.

“I wanna fight it,” she whispered. “For you, for the kids.” She coughed then, a wracking sound that rattled him. He helped her sip water once it was done, rubbing her back and hated that he could feel every rib, every knob of her spine.

“You don’t have to…” Ray gulped, the words caught in his throat. “Do it for you Rosita, if for anyone.”

She breathed, a rattling shaky thing now. “It is for me. Because I can’t leave you, the kids…”

“You won’t,” Ray assured her. “You’ll stay with us, no matter what. I just…worry that you’re fighting uphill for the wrong reasons.”

“I know,” Rose admitted. “But I can’t give up, not when I still have an ounce of fight left in me.”

So they sat down, as a family, to tell the kids what would be happening next. How it may not work, how they needed to prepare for the worst. There were a lot of tears and pleading, with Rose smoothing back her children’s curls, assuring them she’d rather take the chance it might work, than do nothing which definitely wouldn’t.

Victoria, all business helped Rose settle her affairs, just in case. Did all the research she could about the procedure-even though Rose forbade her from making suggestions to the medical staff.

Ray couldn’t remember much of the morning of the surgery. It was all agonizing waiting and trying to keep his mind on what was happening. It was the gray waiting room, terrible coffee, the hustle and bustle of a hospital.

Then the doctor came out, the expression on his face saying everything. His words were muffled to Ray’s ears, but the message was the same.

Rose was gone.

#trope bingo fills #my stuff #writing #fanfic #julie and the phantoms

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paper-pixies · 9 months ago

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And some extras if you wanna answer more of them <3

6 for Astromeda, 1 for Blitzling, 73 for Kell-shali, and 48 for Apari

Me when I answer the second part of an ask months and months after you sent it <3

6. Who would ask the "would you love me if I were a worm?" question? How would their S/O answer? [Astromeda]

Astrid would ask it purely as a joke and, as much as Andromeda does have fun playing into Astrid’s bits sometimes, she’d respond with a completely genuine “Of course, always”. As much as it might be a silly question, she’s very serious about making sure her changeling wife knows that she loves her no matter what form she’s in or what she looks like. This would of course immediately be followed by Astrid repeatedly wild-shaping into a worm for hours on end for like a week just to mess with her.

1. Who fell first? Who fell harder? [Blitzling]

I don’t know if the traditional idea of romantic love exactly fits what they have going on, but in terms of the feelings they do have, Aisling fell first and Blitz fell harder. Aisling might’ve taken an interest in Blitz early on as just a source of amusement but they definitely grew to have a genuine fondness for her, especially after realizing the two have very similar tendencies towards extreme and unprompted violence. Blitz mostly thought of Aisling as an interesting companion and fun bedmate until she realized that she was actually able to talk to them about some of the more fucked up parts of her history. And when Aisling manages to track down the people who made Blitz’s early life hell and burns them to death in front of her? Blitz falls real hard and real fast for this unhinged jester freak.

73. Who knows the other better? Why is this? [Kell-shali]

They both know each other extremely well of course, but I think Mata-shali probably beats Kell-ehir on that just slightly? Although actually, it might be more that they know each other better in different ways. Mata-shali tends to be more naturally in tune with others than her fiance in general and can instantly recognize any of Kell-ehir’s emotions– she’s more aware of his little tics and the subtle way his thoughts show even when he’s not saying them and doesn’t even really have to try to know what’s going on in his head. On the other hand, Kell-ehir is more actively observational. He might not be able to understand shifts in Shali’s facial expressions or body language as well, but he notices and remembers things like her favorite teas, her dancing quirks, what type of noise is harshest for her, etc better than she tends to for him.

48. If they ever had less than 5 mins to tell their S/O something before never seeing them again, what would they say? [Apari]

First off, absolutely fucked up question to ask for these three, my guys who canonically do get all the time they need to say everything important to each other before two of them die. But at least it means I’ve already thought about this in depth.

Opal - To Ace (assuming they’re not in the middle of one of their fights, which is a real possibility given how much these two love their drama) he’d want to thank them for dragging his ass out of Goldcrest even though he was a complete basket case, an addict who was so unwilling to change or believe anything could get better and fought Ace every step of the way. He’d tell them that as much as they piss him the fuck off sometimes, he sees exactly where their anger comes from and has never ever been afraid of it. He’d also probably toss in that he’s literally never had better sex with anyone else and Ace should charge more for their services. To Jabari I think he’d keep it short since the way that Jabari is so genuine and kind will never cease to freak him out just a little bit when things get sentimental. That being said, he’d thank him for keeping an eye on Ace during the years that Opal left them to their own devices. He’d also tell him that, even though he thinks Jabari is way too nice and it’s going to come back and fuck him at some point, he appreciates that Jabari’s grace and patience extended to him to the extent that it did.

Ace - To Opal he would have to make it so goddamn clear that he loves him and that even though they fight so so often that he never regretted their relationship or the fact that he had to take on a worse contract to buy Opal’s passage topside as well as his own. He would tell him how proud he is of all the progress Opal has made and how much he’s changed since they were both in Goldcrest. If he had time he’d absolutely tell him how grateful he is that Opal never permanently abandoned him despite the way that he’s seen (and been the target of) Ace’s angriest, nastiest, and most petty side very frequently. To Jabari I think they would say something with regard to how good and kind of a person he is and how it always amazed Ace, how it inspired them to keep doing good and keep softening the more destructive part of themself even during the times when they were doing very poorly and might otherwise have become extremely cynical towards the world.

Jabari - First, he’s by far the most sentimental and openly loving out of the three and I think that would really come out in a scenario like this. To Opal he’d admit that he had a difficult time getting along with him at first but that he’s so extremely glad that they were forced to continue spending time around each other (thank you, Ace) because Opal is deeply special to him. Similar to Ace, he’d mention how proud he is of Opal’s progress and that it brings him so much joy to have gotten to see and be a part of Opal eventually finding a genuine love of the life around him. To Ace he would thank for the way that they constantly pulled him into new experiences and adventures and opened his eyes to an entirely new aspect of the world. He’d apologize for all of the things they’ve had to go through in their lifetime and ask them to keep nurturing the part of themself that is kind and wants to fight for others.

#got some absolutely killer guys in this one #typing out the answers to these got me remembering how much i lovee blitzling #my fucked up guys mwah #ty for the asks bestie <33 #Blitzling #Astromeda #Kell-shali #Apari #ask game answered!

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castle-dominion · 1 year ago

Text

6x7 like father like daughter

the alexis lawyer episode liveblog

Ok so I only have 20 minutes to liveblog but that should get me to the titlecard at least

Why are they showing us "incorrect" footage tho?

15 years is a long time commonwealth of pennsylvania He can be killed? they still have death penalty? midnight? dramatic.

What is alexis doing here? alexis is so pretty tho

GETTING MARRIED IN SPACE REALLY WOULD BE COOL THO. except for reggie the helicopter spaceship pilot lol & peeing in space is not hot KB: Yes, because when I was a little girl imagining my wedding day, being stuck in a small tin can with a thousand tons of rocket fuel strapped to my ass was exactly what I had in mind.

RC: I don’t want to go look at wedding venues this weekend. KB: Too bad.

Alexis held her breath until she passed out, new trivia

Ooh Alexis is friends with police detectives! Yay abuse of resources! They are friends with alexis, baby alexis is growing up.

Castle stacking pencils on his nose, castle adhd headcanon, the music is great "you should be writing!"

Alexis changed! "I'm still mad at you ok?" Alexis went to court before castle lol *accidentally says frank's name* RC: Yeah … how? (ALEXIS rolls her eyes) I must have seen the file on Esposito’s desk. Evidence? Find the story then.

This isn't a time for you to reconnect with alexis, this is work. Remember in the future, s8, when castle tries to win back beckett in a similar way to what he's doing now with alexis?

Castle talk abt the case not pi... "What if I was, would that be so bad?" He hasn't asked a question yet bc he was keeping up with the case Maggie stayed with him all this time? Freaking sad! Beautiful! every week for three years is a long time... AC: it already hurts.

Wow yay already titlecard.

Good job with the makeup making him look young for the first scene in the ep Lawyer? Cop? No a mystery writer.

His house alarm went off, called someone to shut off the alarm. Shut it off, heard screams across the street. Backdoor open, went inside, she was lying there. But girl what if you like tried to start cpr or smth so when the cops come in they see you beating on herbody but they also then realize that you are hitting her chest for heartbeat. blood on you, police record... She had a crush on him & he flirted back but he also proposed to his gal! Obviously they have looked into lyle gomez, right? Or no. Ok.

Frank: They didn’t have to. They had me. Mr. Castle, I’ve got three days left on God’s earth. I don’t need you to find the real killer. I just need somebody to prove it wasn’t me. btw the music, rly good.

Castle callin ghis police detective wife... here for both of you slkjfsldjfs oof ouch this ep & I have to leave for fucing work now.

Lol cliff's notes.

Can you get partial prints off the bracelet? if it came off during the struggle?

k gtg ily bye

k I'm back. My grandparents visited & I had a FULL day of work so I couldn't return to my liveblog after work & I couldn't start liveblogging in the morning but I have a few hours now before work today.

That's what castle is ther for, seeing things other ppl missed!

lol acab

My bro speaking as alexis: Wait dad, 'm paying the check?

Sherlock holmes, the mest evidence is what is NOT there

Lanie & alexis <3

Police won't do shit

*lyle walks back in & slams the door*

Teenaged girl <3 not asking for permission, but I still want you here

Alexis just enters this man's house?

on/off relationships can just be like that sometimes

Lol I love how he shoplifted booze & the shop owner didn't charge him or anything but made him pick up litter

Except Frank wasn't into her so it wouldn't matter if she was seeing other guys

She turns and gasps. CASTLE is by the door, ready to attack with a tire iron. AC: She turns and gasps. CASTLE is by the door, ready to attack with a tire iron. RC: Overreacting, maybe. You were in there a long time.

Yeah he IS tired all around. "& now I've got to be hers" oh my goodness this is a romance. At least you know you are dying so you can say your goodbyes. He's giving up hope...

Meth? Holy moly! Sammy keyes

"usually I do that with beckett" *ew*

Lanie my beloved

Nooo I love perlmutter he's such a grump

Yes, father-daughter relationships are special!

Not boyfriends, but tutors!!! Alexis was so smart asking about that!

Oh yeah textbooks are pricey!

Castle using his money to get old textbook records lol

Frank's brother! drugs?

He admits to tutoring

Maybe he was wearing headphones Maybe he discussed it so many times that to him it is not unusual. Maybe the smoke alarm went off from the autobody work all the time so he didn't care

Noooooooo John is trying to get his brother out of murder but he doesn't want to get killed either!

Frank believes that John is innocent or he knows & is covering? Oh that's why he said "you don't need to find the real killer just prove I'm innocent" IT WAS THE SAME CAR CRASH

pHINEAS gage... & now they are showing us a different version? They changed it from the start version. They didn't find john's fingerprints anywhere? Again, good job with the actors & makeup & youth

Girl it's been 15 years... You have a girl too...

It is his choice. His life to lose.

Randomly say things & then castle sparks brain thoughts & boom solve case science geeks like kim *castle is able to read it even tho he was a literature geek not a science geek*

Don't they have a time of death thing?

They have a film of this?

I like how lanie tries it anyway even tho it is obviously not going to fit. But there could have been another loop attaching them

Family <3 I love these two sm

Alexis asks questions she already knows the answer to Yeah but there are a ton of bike treads...

Kind of the judge to do that

The brothers <3 <3 <3

Anytime <3

This is enough thank lanie & ryan & esposito -- oh beckett ok lol aaah I love those two sm

#castle 6x7 #castle 6x7 quote #castle 6x7 spoilers #the alexis lawyer episode

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shibaraki · 2 years ago

Text

LOVING YOU IS EASY ┊ KUROO TETSURO

tags: AFAB FEM reader (she/her pronouns; called ‘baby’ and ‘wife’), NSFT, established relationship, loving husband kuroo, domestic bliss and comfort smut, dry humping, reader is doted on, vaginal oral (reader receiving), prone bone position, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare

wc: 5k

“Honey! I’m ho— oh”.

Tetsuro stands awkwardly underneath the kitchen doorframe. His hair is mussed, probably by his own hand. The collar of his white button up is slightly askew, tie pulled loose and the sleeves have been pushed haphazardly into the crook of his arms. You meet his eyes as they stare back, wide and deeply concerned.

“Hey,” he calls out to you softly, approaching with both hands held out towards you. A tear slips and follows the curve of your cheek when you blink. Mouth pursing into a contemplative pout, your husband lowers into a crouch and swipes it with the pad of his thumb.

“What’s wrong?”

The cold kitchen tile presses uncomfortably against your knees, a prickling static filling your feet as the circulation slows. His gentle question chips away the last of your restraint. You feel yourself cry in earnest, your chest stuttering with the force of it.

He manoeuvres himself to his knees and slips both arms around your waist, bundling you against him. You’re in a soft pair of pyjama pants and his old hoodie, now stretched and worn. It’s your favourite one — his scent is muted, but permanently clings to the fabric, and you wear it when you’re in need of comfort.

Tetsuro rests his cheek atop your head, cinches you in and begins a gentle rock. You can hear his heart beating beneath your ear, his warm skin emanating through his work shirt, now saturated with tears. It’s this patient, unfettered care for you that gives you space to let go and truly feel.

“Let it all out,” he tells you, the words a soothing buzz in his chest. Up and down in a steady motion, his hand strokes along the length of your spine. “I’m here now”.

You try to inhale deeply only to struggle as your diaphragm jumps. It’s uncomfortably wet — cheeks and nose damp, your eyes rimmed red. Even in the embrace of a man who promised to love you til death did you part, who has undoubtedly seen you at your worst and loved you still, you want to burrow away from his sincere prying.

“S—Sorry, Tetsu,” you hiccup, movements clunky as you pull your sleeve over the heel of your hand and swipe harshly at your face as you look up at him. “Sorry. I’m being stupid and I got you all snotty”.

The downturned corner of his mouth lifts into a small grin. “That’s my beautiful, snot-nosed wife you’re talking about,” he says warmly, dipping to bring your foreheads together.

You laugh weakly and he visibly brightens. Delight moves through his expression, gleaming eyes squinted and wrinkling at the corners as his smile grows. He cups your jaw then, kissing the space between your brows. “There she is,” he whispers. “Feel a little better now?”

You sniff, grimacing at the sound. “Yeah. I needed that,” and you turn into his palm, lips moving against his skin. “Thank you, baby”.

He hums, free hand massaging circles into the centre of your back. “Want to talk about it?”

Your exhale is shaken. Quiet, incredulous laughter is already building as you try to string an explanation together. Time and time again you would discard your emotions onto the pile, belittle them in the name of being unburdensome. When you put into words it all seems so infinitesimal; a precariously tall mountain of little things that finally toppled.

“I’ve had… a bad day,” you tell him. Exhaustion winds itself throughout your body and there’s a dull ache behind your eyes spreading to your temple. “It was one thing after another. I fell back asleep by accident after you left for work and missed half my morning. Then it rained on my way to the store and I got yelled at by some old guy for accidentally bumping into his cart. My shopping bag broke as I was carrying it into the house. Then I accidentally burnt our food. And just now I…”

Eyes drifting toward the pile of broken shards a few feet away that Tetsuro had yet to mention, you feel yourself tear up at the sight. “…I broke your favourite mug,” you admit thickly, chin tucking to your sternum in apology.

Moments pass. The silence is not uncomfortable, nor does it grow terse. Tetsuro rarely gets genuinely angry with you, and you hadn’t expected that he would now. But you thought he might at least smirk a little, coddle you and comment jokingly on the overreaction.

Five years into your relationship, two months into marriage, you are still learning about the man you love. “I’m sorry baby,” he frowns, his voice low and loving and entirely sincere. As he speaks his arms tighten around your form, and he repositions his legs so you are seated between them. “It sounds like you had a pretty rough day of it. Why don’t you lie down on the sofa? Pick a movie for us to watch while I sort out the food”.

You blink at him, damp lashes clumped into little spikes. “But are you sure? You’ve had a long day, too”.

“I’m sure. That’s what I’m here for,” he nods with an affirmative hum and turns your chin, ducking to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek. Then he’s turning you again, and kissing you on the mouth. You thin your lips as you try to escape, fighting a grin when he chases.

“Tetsuro, stop! That’s so nasty,” your hands are flat to his chest, the little effort exerted discordant with your words. “I need to wipe my face first!”

His fingers and thumb slip either side of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth protrudes. He kisses you again and again, clumsy as the two of you laugh.

“Alright, okay. I surrender,” he cackled, your own hand now fisting jokingly around his tie and threatening to draw it tight. He relinquishes his grip, smoothing over the swell and down your throat where he lingers by your pulse.

You swallow and the movement bobs beneath his palm. “So, you’re not mad about the mug?”

“I’m not mad about the mug,” he acquiesces, dark eyes flickering over your features for any last dregs of sadness. “I’m just relieved you’re alright. Freaked me out, seeing you in a heap on the floor like that”.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you tease, shooting him an impish grin. The effect is lost in the comically thick, nasal tone to your voice. “There’s just something healing about lying on the cold kitchen floor”.

Tetsuro snorts, and the warm air is felt against your temple where he leans in to nuzzle his nose. “You’re right. I have only ever experienced the magic of the bathroom floor,” he mutters, pulling back with a final tap to your thigh. “C’mon. I wasn’t lying! Go lie down”.

You shift and make space as he stretches out his long legs at an awkward angle, the distance between the counters too small for his height. Both arms lifted above his head, you wince in synchrony as his spine clicks.

“You’re really going to cook tonight?”

He runs a large hand through his hair and yawns, scrubbing carelessly at his scalp. It sticks in all directions, losing the style he worked so tirelessly on every morning. “Of course I am,” he says. “We look after each other”.

There’s a distinct sting in your throat. Something blooms inside your chest, and it swells so rapidly you feel you might burst. Reaching forward, you quickly take his face into your hands and press yourself to his front. Natural as breathing, Tetsuro begins to kiss you back, limbs snaking around your body until there is nothing left between.

Your arms are trapped, but you have no desire to move them from his jaw. Cradling him, cradling you. He sighs blissfully as your tongue swipes along the seam of his mouth, opening up for you and coaxing you in.

It’s languid and without demand. The soft, wet sound of your lips leaves your skin hot. You shudder as he sucks on your tongue, letting go to take the flesh of your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Oho?” he breathes heavily once the passion has dwindled again and you’ve parted. Beneath the mess of hair, his eyebrows begin to wriggle suggestively. “Does the idea of me cooking do it for you?”

“Yes,” you smirk, circling his wrists as you get up to stand on unsteady feet. He groans as you tug him upwards, hands slipping over the sensitive skin to thread your fingers together. Added with peck and some lighthearted sarcasm, “I love when you do the bare minimum”.

He murmurs inaudibly, stepping forward to playfully snap his teeth at your nose and in doing so, unintentionally crowding you against the counter. Your stomach tightens.. “You know I’m a model husband. Now go and relax for me so I can get started”.

You leave him with a stinging handprint on your ass, rubbing it with a faint pout. Entering the living room, you stumble over to the wide cushioned couch and fall limp into it like a doll without strings. After tossing and turning in position, you reach for the corner of the blanket draped across the back and pull it over to cocoon yourself.

In the end you choose an animated movie, one that’s easy to watch and just as comforting. The familiar melodic music begins with the opening credits, nostalgia washing over your feelings of guilt. Time passes like this — cheek squished to the arm of the couch, knees tucked to your chest, listening to the distant sound of pots and plates clanging together.

The smell of hot food soon rolls into the open space, rousing your stomach with a quiet gurgle. Tetsuro’s pleased voice echoes out from the kitchen, “I hope you’re ready for the chef's special!”

He comes in with your plate on an old dinner tray, walking ridiculously slow as not to drop it. You sit upright to accept it onto your lap, mouth watering as the flavours fill your senses. Rolled into a piece of white kitchen roll is your cutlery, mimicking that of a restaurant. “Your order, my love,” he regards you with soft amusement. “I hope it’s to your liking”.

Unspoken, he leans over as you lift your chin. The kiss is quick, and you can taste the homemade sauce on his lips. “Thank you,” you tell him. “I love you”.

Another. He smiles into the kiss, “I love you too”.

He returns with his own meal and settles beside you. You offer a corner of the blanket and he takes it, pressing your thighs together as you eat. The room darkens with the evening, lit only by the moving light from the television casting shadows across the room. You whisper unfiltered thoughts, exchanging silly commentary between mouthfuls and sharing secret glances despite being the only two in the room.

Before you know it the plate is bare. You lower your fork to take another morsel and stab through air. “Ah,” you mutter. “I’ve finished”.

Tetsuro peers at your lap as he wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb, sliding it into his mouth to lick the sauce. “Did you like it?” he asks, fiddling around for his cutlery and piling them onto his own empty plate.

You reflexively pass your own to him when he motions for you to hand it over, “It was really good, Tetsu. Thank you again for cooking”.

He stacks everything together with a crooked, satisfied grin. Only then do you realise what his intentions are. “Hey, I can at least help with the washing up too!”

You’re halted by the press of a finger to your lips, “Sorry, ma’am. I cannot let you do that. Doctors orders”.

“Tetsu—!”

“Baby,” he interrupts firmly. You blink, his handsome face illuminated by green light as the movie scene moves fluidly through a vast forest. In your periphery, the pointed shadows of his hair stretch comically up the back living room wall. He stands with the dirty dishes, the blanket slipping from his thighs. “Just leave it to me. I solemnly swear to wash and dry them the way you do it”.

Under your breath, “That’s the only right way to do it”.

“What was that?” he chimes from the hallway.

“Nothing!”

When the movie ends, you let it automatically begin to play the sequel as you wait for Tetsuro to come back. Idle hands pick at the fraying seams of your blanket while he washes up, only for him to announce he’s going to get out of his work clothes first.

You sink back against the arm of the sofa with your legs stretched out, bottom lip jutted. His efforts were appreciated, but all you wanted right now was his attention.

He descends the stairs two steps at a time, landing in the hallway with a resounding thud. Donning a pair of grey sweatpants and a thin, white cotton t-shirt, Tetsuro saunters over to you with all the grace of a newborn fawn.

Lifting back the blanket, your knees bend and part to make space for him as he crawls between your legs. Falling pliant, you smile and wait while he gets comfortable, resting his head on your chest and wrapping himself around your middle with a drawn out sigh of relief.

“Comfy?”

He responds by nuzzling into your breasts, offering glimpses of a dopey grin.

The weight of him keeps you grounded, but it also draws your attention for the remainder of the movie. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the broad expanse of his back or the corded biceps wrapped around your waist. Your breathing seems to sync, his head lifting with the rise of your chest. You wonder if he can hear the blood rush through your veins, or the quickening beat of your heart.

Tetsuro’s eyes are heavy, half lidded in the dark. A reflection of the television glimmers in his pupil. You thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching lazily at his scalp. Starting at the crown, you make your way over the back of his head to the nape of his neck where you know him to be sensitive.

You play with the thin, stray hairs there and he shudders, goosebumps spreading over his skin. Slow, you move to trace around the shell of his ear. He exhales shakily, barely audible over the melodic soundtrack, and embers of arousal warm your core.

A quiet frisson of anticipation zips up your spine when he relents, shifting in your lap to look at you. There’s a flush high on his cheekbones, his tongue peeking to wet his lips. You follow it with the pad of your thumb. He wants you, too.

He pushes up onto his forearms, bracing either side of you. Purposeful, Tetsuro crowds in close as he moves up your body. His nose bumps yours, a warm puff of air against your mouth as he bends his knees, slotting your hips together.

You can feel him, separated only by thin fabric. He presses hot against your sex and you reflexively tuck your thighs either side of his waist. “Tetsuro,” you breathe his name into the dark. Flint sparks in your belly as he instinctively ruts forward at the sound.

His lips part above your own in a silent groan. Cradling his face you coax him into you, quivering as he deepens the kiss. There’s tension buzzing under your skin, the pleasant kind that diffuses into every fibre of muscle and lulls you into lethargy. Your husband did still leave you flustered and giddy on occasion, but you’ve come to love this simple, unhurried familiarity.

“Missed you today,” he rasps, the words quiet and muffled. “Couldn’t wait to—ah, to come home”.

A soft hitch of breath. You roll your hips up in search of relief, feeling his cock hard in the loose confines of his pants. The friction is dulled just enough that it teases you, heels digging into the small of his back and encouraging him to move.

“More,” your voice tapers into a short moan.The fabric of your pyjama pants bunches at your calves. Tetsuro leans his weight to one side and slips a warm hand under your hoodie, cupping your breast with an appreciative squeeze.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you arch into the touch as his thumb circles your nipple, flicking it pert. You make a sound against his mouth and then he’s bearing down harder. The kiss grows messy as his inhibitions are forgotten. Entangled limbs, pressed into one another until there is no beginning or end.

You’re wet now, wet enough that your pants are clinging to skin. You can feel more of him like this, the swell of his tip bumping against your clit with each drag of his cock. Arms loosely wrapping around his neck, wrists bending to absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair as you succumb to the arousal pooling in your gut.

Heat prickles at your scalp. The tented front of his sweatpants are saturated, a damp dark spot where his cock weeps. He reaches between your bodies to palm at himself, tongue soft and wet as it moves against yours.

It’s difficult to measure time while inside your intimate little bubble. You’re not sure how long is spent on the narrow cushion of your couch, awkwardly rocking against one another. Sharing breathless laughter and quiet sounds of bliss. No urgency, just a gradual build of pleasure that rolls over you in even waves.

“Love you,” he mumbles again, lips pink and swollen. His hips still and he backs away only to aimlessly litter your cheeks with chaste pecks, descending to your throat and nosing at your pulse. You hear him laugh into the crook of your neck, “M’gonna cum in my pants if we don’t stop”.

You’re close, too. Muscles drawn taut, you feel yourself throb with need. It simmers restlessly, and you can’t help but to squirm underneath him. Tetsuro sucks in a sharp breath and lifts his hips. “Don’t,” he bemoans, swallowing thickly. “Not like this. I wanna make you cum first”.

Dropping your arm limp by the carpet, you paw around until your fingers make contact with the remote. “Okay,” you sigh with fond exasperation, keeping your eyes on him as you direct the sensor toward the television. At the press of a button, the screen turns dark, casting darkness across the room.

“Take me to bed”.

The two of you stumble up the stairs. He’s close on your heel, hands steadying you at your waist. Giddiness bubbles, urging you to run. Your stomach flips, in a free fall as if you’d missed the top step, and the exhilaration has you running to the bedroom.

Tetsuro’s loud, unrestrained laughter bounces off the walls, “Oi! Get back here!”

The footfalls are heavy, speeding up behind you. His fingers circle your wrist as you stumble into the bedroom, tugging you into his embrace. Keeping you in place by the small of your back, your chests heave as you catch your breath.

“I got you,” he declares, mouth a hair's breadth from your own. The words are voracious, and the ache between your legs worsens.

“Always do,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut. His hands are wandering, kneading at your ass and pulling you to his front. His cock is hard against your stomach, trapped between your bodies.

Wetting your lips, his eyes track the movement, “…Need you to fuck me, Tetsuro”.

“Not yet,” he says, voice honeyed and thick. His lashes fan over his cheeks as he looks at you, the hallway light flooding into the room silhouetting him in a warm glow. Walking backwards, your husband leisurely guides you toward the end of the bed. “I want to eat you out first”.

The back of your legs hit the bed frame. Gentle as he does, Tetsuro lowers you into the bedsheets. You scoot up the mattress, stretched out on your back to get comfortable while he watches with a dimly lit expression of affection and hunger.

“Don’t go too far,” he grins, propping one knee on the bed and reaching to wrap his arms around your thighs. Gathering his strength, he drags you right back to the edge, right to him.

“Lift your hips baby,” and you follow his instruction, allowing his fingers to slip into the waistband of your pyjama pants and tug them down over your hips. He’s on you before they hit the floor, getting to his knees and nuzzling into your sex, pressing a loving kiss to your clit.

Tongue wide and flat, he licks a long stripe along your pussy, root to stem. His hair is thick between your fingers, and the grip tightens reflexively at the vibration of his contemplative hum. It sends a ripple through you. A soft, broken moan that sounds like relief.

You’re clean. It’s clear you had showered before he got home to wash the rain off. Tetsuro understands the need, but he still allows himself a fleeting moment to grieve how the day would cling to your skin. There’s nothing quite like your natural scent, your taste.

It’s the expression on his face that makes you wet. That slack, mystified look, dark eyes behind his unkempt bangs peering up at you from between your thighs. Such unabashed want.

He presses another kiss to your clit. Another, then another. Open mouthed with his tongue, sweet and lazy. You card through his hair and hold tight as he buries himself into you, resting both of your feet atop his shoulders to tether yourself. He groans when your fingers tighten at his scalp, hips bucking into the wet heat.

Tetsuro knows you intimately. “Fuck,” he breaks for air, flexing his hands around your thighs, squeezing and palming the flesh. Smoothing over your hips and up again. “Look at you. I’m the luckiest man alive”.

Your pussy throbs, squirming under his reverence. A mewl escapes your throat as he rolls his tongue through your folds, languid and messy. Soft, wet sounds fill the room. He fucks you with his mouth — a little deeper, a little faster.

Heat coils tight in your belly when he takes your clit between his lips and sucks. The back and forth over your sex tips you closer to the edge. You feel it begin to escalate, your body instinctively folding into itself, toes curling.

You hold him against you and he moans. Blunt nails sink into the fat of your thighs. You’re trembling, you realise. Chest rising and falling with every laboured breath. “Tetsuro. Fuck I’m…” your voice dwindles into a pitched whine. “Baby. Oh—!”

His name catches in your throat. A moment passes without air, your body wrung tight and pulsing. And then you are undone, loose at the seams as he takes you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The heels of your feet slip and hang limp over his shoulders. You exhale heavily and sink into the linens. Tetsuro remains at the foot of the bed, peppering your inner thighs with messy kisses until your breathing evens out.

“Tetsu,” you hold your arms out for him blindly, eyes shut as you fight the sudden fatigue. Around you, the mattress dips. Hot. Your husband crawls onto the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, and supports himself over your form.

Locking your fingers around the nape of his neck, you bring him into a kiss. He smells like sex. His lips, chin and cheeks are wet with arousal. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he dips into your mouth.

“Don’t shower next time,” he mutters.

“You’re gross”.

A nip to your lower lip as punishment, “It isn’t gross. So what if I like how my wife smells?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears. His cock is straining against his sweatpants and pressing hard against your sex. “Gonna fuck me now?”

Tetsuro laughs but the sound is strained, breathless. “God. Please,” the corner of his mouth curls up and his hand descends the space between your bodies to push down his waistband. “I’m so hard right now I think my dick might fall off”.

“Can’t have that,” you murmur, smiling as his stomach jumps under the teasing touch of your fingers. You help push the sweatpants mid thigh, then discard your hoodie when he sits back to pull off his own.

The air clears somewhat. It’s lighter. You giggle as he complains under his breath, getting off the bed to kick off his pants and almost tripping over his feet. He crawls over you and beams, cheeks a dewy pink. You love him like this. Contented, as if he were in a dream.

The ephemeral moment of peace fractures at the pass of his cock through your folds. He kisses you with a warm hum, holding himself at the base and gliding the tip over your clit.

You tremble with sensitivity as he dips into your pussy — just barely. Enough that you try to suck him in, begging to be filled.

You shoot him a look, “Stop teasing”.

“I would never,” he pouts, nosing against your cheek. He kisses the curve of your jaw and then retreats. A hand comes down on your ass, an abrupt thrill rocketing through your body. “Turn over for me”.

Putting aside the spark of indignation, you turn to lay on your stomach. You get comfortable, cheek resting atop your crossed arms. His weight shifts, knees settling either side of your hips, his cock hung heavy between his legs.

He palms the flesh of your ass, thumbs slipping into the creases between your thigh. You quietly whine as he spreads you open. Slow, he slides his cock against your pussy. Your body naturally arches into him, like the spine of a bow. “I’ve got you baby,” he croons.

And then he’s granting mercy, pushing the head down with the pad of his thumb, pressing into you. You spread your thighs further, fingers curling tight into the linens as his whole body folds over you.

Tetsuro groans, shuddering as his mouth moves against the nape of your neck. His cock pushes the air from your lungs. You can feel yourself clamping around him, pulling him in deeper. The stretch is half of the relief, overwhelming with his weight against your back.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants. There’s a cute whine in his tone. He fills you to the hilt, and your mouth falls open. Reaching over to where your intertwined hands clench in the sheets, he covers them with his own. “God, your pussy is so perfect. Feels so good I—”

“Baby,” you interrupt desperately, fucking yourself back onto him. “Please move”.

The drag of his cock satisfies a deep ache inside of you. Sex with Tetsuro has always felt so natural, so gratifying. He pulls out nice and slow, til the tip is kissing your folds, then pushing all the way back in and forcing you to the mattress.

You moan, overturning your hands to cling at his fingers. Angling to meet his gaze over your shoulder as he begins to set the pace, you find him slack jawed and lovestruck. Every stroke is intentional, deep and wanton, and you’ve nothing to do but relax and take it. He’s spoiling you — again.

The bed frame starts to creak under the movements. Soft puffs of air fan over your skin with every restrained groan, his brow pinched in concentration and the hallway light reflected in his lidded eyes.

“Tetsu,” they flicker to meet yours, and he softens like wax over flame. He sinks, melts against your every dip and curve, moulds himself around you. Pressing the cradle of hips to your ass and trapping you under the weight, he grinds himself against you in a subtle up and down motion.

“Gimme a kiss,” he says, the gravel in his voice trembling through you. You lift your head despite the slight discomfort and meet his lips, tentatively licking into his mouth.

In the low lighting all your senses are heightened. Every wet, lewd sound. Your pussy enveloping him, skin slapping skin, his muffled whimpers and the harsh inhales through his nose. You’re rocking back into him, trying to match his rhythm, chasing release.

Your clit throbs. The feeling returns steadily, that tight, breathtaking pleasure coiling in your gut. He can feel it too, murmuring sweet praises and frantic whispers of cum for me, baby.

It washes over you and pulls you off shore. The waves are long this time, devastatingly so. Your body seizes as you choke on a moan, nails biting the back of his hand. You cum around his cock and his forehead falls to your shoulder with a tight groan.

Tetsuro doesn’t stop, but he’s trembling with the effort. “Fuck. Baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he pants. “Do you… do you want me to…”

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth. Barely cognisant, you shakily release one of his hands to card through his hair. Cradling the back of his head you murmur, “Want—ah. Want you to cum inside me”.

Permission is all he needed. A noise rumbles in his chest and his hips begin to stutter, fucking into you with uncoordinated force. You feel it when he cums. He moans loudly, the sound pulled thin from him, and rides out the rest of his orgasm.

He comes to a gradual stop, humming blissfully. As you return to yourselves he lines the curve of your shoulder with chaste kisses, and noses the sensitive skin behind your ear. “You okay?” he eventually asks.

Boneless, all you can do is mumble incoherently. He laughs, and it moves his softening cock inside of you. “You’re so cute,” he says. Another kiss to your temple. “M’gonna run and get a cloth to clean you off. Clench your thighs for me while I’m gone?”

You snort and nod in agreement. As soon as he slips out of you, you gather what strength you have left to clamp your thighs together and keep the cum from seeping out onto the bed sheets. It is even more difficult to maintain your grip as you watch his ridiculous waddle out of the room in your periphery.

Tetsuro returns with a damp cloth. He taps two fingers against your ass, so you relax your glutes and allow him to part your legs. He cleans you up diligently, the fabric cool and soothing against your sex.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself with finality, balling the cloth up and spiking it into the laundry basket. Wrapping you up in his arms against the pillows by the headboard he continues, “Orgasm, check. Aftercare, check. Post-coital cuddles, pending”.

You smile despite your exasperation, curling into his warm chest. “Why are you the way that you are?”

Self satisfied grin pressed into your hair, he says, “You’re the one that married me”.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader

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nightfall-kachiniko · 2 years ago

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𓏲 Words. // Mikasa x reader

Tw: miscarriage, child loss, child death, descriptive emotions.

PSA: I’ve never wrote something like this before, so I apologize if I’ve made any mistakes while writing. I’ve never dealt with anything like this personally, so coming up with how to describe it is only something I can imagine. Read with caution.

The tears escaped your eyes as you sobbed, cradling your knees to your chest. The spinning of the bathroom fan was the only sound in the air asides from your small weeps. As you tried to keep your voice low. Thinking back to that moment, earlier today. It was the worst outcome of an ultrasound. One without a beating heart. Your voice broke as the nurses words escaped her mouth.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost the baby”

Fuck, fuck that was the worst words you could’ve ever heard in your life. No heartbeat, nothing. Just a silhouette on a screen, nothing else there. It was like oxygen evaporated in the air, and you were left with nothing. You couldn’t breathe, you could only choke.

The car ride back was quiet, too quiet.

As soon as you gotten home from the appointment with your wife, you went to the bathroom and shut the door.

And here you were now, crying to yourself. The tears choked up before you could get to the bathroom door, as you collapsed behind it, shutting it. There was no words in a dictionary that could ever describe the pain of this moment. You were too focused on fully processing your loss to notice mikasa’s blank expression, numbness on her face.

It felt like forever, sobbing into your knees. Time was infinite in that moment.

Three knocks, placed on the door. Like a little sequence, yet, a dull sound. It had a ring of passion in it though, something you hadn’t heard since you were in the doctors office.

“Y/n,” the voice of your wife called out. You bit back on your lip, looking up to the ceiling as an attempt to keep your tears in. Her numb voice. It was the tone in it how she spoke. Even yet a single word, calling out to you was filled with nothingness. Just a simple word, a name, your name. It clicked to you that you were not the only one going through this too.

“Baby, open the door,” the whisper said, like a convincing small voice in the back on your head. You choked, holding back the pain in your throat.

“I don’t want you to be alone right now honey,”

Maybe it was the desperation in her voice that finally convinced you to open the door and face her, or it was the split of emotion, a small burst of energy to apologize profusely.

When the door creaked open, you didn’t look her in the eyes. Expecting them to be red and puffy like your own, you couldn’t bare to see that picture painted on your wife.

You could feel her gaze staring at you, not in a toning demeanor, although one that is comforting. And with a simple sniff, the tears you held back came bursting out apologizes, trying to find the right way to say it.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry..” you cried, falling into mikasa. You wrapped your arms tightly around her, your head in her chest as you croaked, crying. The way her chest went up and down more quickly gave you the impression she was about to cry as well. But you knew she already had. Though you both didn’t want to talk about it, it was a situation where the two of you needed each other, equally.

Her arms lazily wrapped around you, her head continuing to stare straight ahead. And after a few seconds, she let lose. You could feel her tears falling onto you like rain, speechless yet sometimes you don’t need words to tell how your feeling.

Words. The most powerful thing that humans created. Your words, repeating an apology as if it was your fault. It was so random, it wasn’t believable. How you uttered ‘sorry’ as you cling to her, your words doing the same.

You felt a dull attempt to peck a kiss on your cheek. Though feeling mikasa that close to you served as a comfort. To both of you of course.

“It’s not your fault,” those words again. So numb yet with meaning. And of course your wife, mikasa hasn’t always been good with words. How she would rather avoid conflict. But to you, those words meant a small attempt to reassure you, to comfort you.

Though words wasn’t what you both needed. How to describe how you feel when there’s no word for it? Some make words up, some go with something the closest they can get, and some, some jumble words together, as a more descriptive way to describe.

No matter the words said with emotion or not, she meant it, even if her tone didn’t show it. You kissed her back, a small yet meaningful placement of your lips, an action with meaning. Isolation was one, standing up was another.

Though it might be hard to describe, there’s no pain like the pain you felt that day. No matter how many hugs and kisses you would get, no matter the words slipping out of the person you adored most’s mouth, it would never be enough to heal.

You don’t have to understand it, but surely you did. A word with no meaning is similar to an emotion without a word. Complexity at its finest. Though the presence of each other wasn’t enough for that moment.

Nothing would compare to losing something you brought into the world. Nothing. Though regardless of her words, or her tone, you knew you’d get through it together.

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monodipita · 3 years ago

Text

ANGEL (Yandere!Angel x Reader)

Words: 1,930

Warning: Yandere content

A/N: This is one of the tamest yandere pieces I've wrote, I think. I hope you enjoy it.

Silence was only broken by the ambient noise that played on the TV and the soft whimpers of someone's voice, otherwise, the air was incredibly still in this apartment.

He stood above them. This poor person who was at the complete and utter mercy of Angel, whose touch could kill anyone if they touched long enough. His deep brown eyes lingered on their body while his hands hovered inches off of their face. Tears rolled down the person's face while they were forced to stare up at him.

"I'm going to ask again. You've already lost about a year of your life with your uneventful answers," Angel spoke. "Please, I've told you again and again, I don't know where [Y/N] is!" The feminine voice cried out quickly after Angel's statement. "But you do," Angel retorted, "[Y/N] has been seen in this apartment complex four times. That means walking by this door four times. Four encounters."

He was trying to piece together something, but you couldn't quite tell what it was. You hovered nearby for the sake of trying to find out what his game plan was, but at the expense of (almost) making your presence known... it wasn't easy getting into this apartment after Angel stepped in, but you wormed in and made yourself comfortable out of sight. You could only pray that he didn't see you, or hear you.

But there was something about all of this that you couldn't quite wrap your head around. Was he trying to figure out if you lived here? Because you didn't. No, your mentor lived here... and it was just normal for you to visit her when you had the time to, outside of work.

"I-I-I don't know..." the voice sobbed, "I have a family! Please don't keep doing this to me!"

It was sickening. Angel was repeatedly threatening this person's life by... touching her. No one could underestimate the power of his hands touching a mere human... even a simple grab of the hand could cost you two months. You could only bitterly imagine what it must've been like to be caressed by him. What it was like to have his face cup your hands. How much of your life would he take away then? You couldn't answer that question clearly, but the person he was interrogating, could.

"No, no no no, PLEASE!" She yelled, before a loud scream erupted from her lips while Angel's hands touched her face. Seconds pass, every one of them feeling like a grueling eternity that made your stomach churn. It was a total of ten seconds before Angel removed his hands. "You're in luck! I only took about a month away. We're nearing that threshold, though, and that can be scary ... so I would start talking now. So, I will ask this question again, Miss. Please answer it to the best of your ability."

He was growing too impatient to keep pestering this person, you could tell. Angel was lazy, and though he surprised you with the amount of effort he put into doing all of this, you knew he couldn't keep it up for long. Especially when it was reaching dead ends like it was now. Angel cleared his throat, "you may be aware of a person named [Y/N] [L/N] that comes into this apartment complex every Tuesday and Thursday around the same time in the afternoons. I know you see [Y/N] because you're a stay-at-home wife. So, I am asking you again. It's... early in the evening," he checked his watch before looking back down at the person. "And [Y/N] wasn't here today. Did something happen."

There was more silence to be followed before the person began to sob again... wail, really. It was distressing to hear. To know that someone was dying because of you really didn't sit well on your mind, or on your stomach.

"This will all be over soon. You've told me all I need to know." Angel's eyes hooded.

"N-n-no, please," the helpless voice uttered over Angel's, "I-I want to live! Please! I don't even know who [Y/N] [L/N] is!! PLEASE, NO!-" Their cries were ... blended, almost. If anyone could make aging be heard, it was Angel, while he took someone's life through simply touching their skin. You still couldn't quite wrap your head around that fact.

You stifled a cry and clamped your hand over your mouth to silence yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. Why? Why would he do this? What did this person do to deserve the touch of death? For just living here, was that it?

A yawn characteristically came from Angel's mouth before he stepped over the person's body, tucking his hands in his pockets as he stopped at the door. He stood there for a moment before he he turned his head, beautiful locks tumbling down his back as he looked around with narrowed eyes. You did your best to stay quiet in the corner you were in, you didn't want to draw attention to yourself and risk him knowing that you were here.

The longer he stayed at the door though, the more you found yourself beginning to question why you were even here in the first place... but you knew why. He was acting strange. He had been acting strange ever since that little date the two of you went on.

Ice cream. It wasn't a very romantic setting and it was actually one he and Aki Hayakawa frequented quite often, but something about this particular day happened to set him off. You treated him to something nice after he proved to be helpful against a devil you couldn't get close to—so it was just the two of you this time, Aki was nowhere in sight. A lot of the time you two spent together at that time was spent toward speaking about things, such as the ice cream you ate, how he saved your life, and how you were thankful that he helped you out.

Angel wanted to know so much about you after that—and was clingy, moreso than what you would've expected from someone like him, who seemed like he couldn't have gave a damn whether someone lived or died, as long as he wasn't bothered. In the days, maybe even weeks after leading up to now, he never really left you alone until you broke off from him to go home for the day. The days you went to visit your mentor, you linked up with him shortly after leaving the apartment complex, some ways away from it. You didn't quite think of it like you were thinking about it now, but looking back on it, there were clearly some things that were wrong here. How did he find out that you were coming to this apartment complex? Was he following you?

"I thought I heard something other than that woman when I walked inside."

"Gah!" You squeaked in fear, making your body jolt as your arm covered your face in self-defense. Angel found you, he finally found you. "F-fuck!"

"What are you doing here, [Y/N]?" He asked, "are you here to talk to whoever you're talking to?"

"W-why does that matter?" You stammer, as you find the courage to finally remove your arm from your face to look up at him. Why, he looked mental. His eyes looked like beads against his white sclera. What a terrifying expression to come back to—it made your heart leap into your throat. "I didn't feel like visiting my mentor today."

"Oh. Your mentor."

Silence between the two of you begins to pick up after that. Your heart felt like it was going to explode with how fast it was beating. So many questions had to be asked, but how could you ask them? You didn't even know what to say right now.

"Want to go get some ice cream?" He asked, as if everything that happened didn't just happen. You swallowed thickly at the question asked and looked around nervously. Did you beat around the bush? Agree, and act like nothing happened in this room? Or did you face the fact that what Angel did was unforgivable?

Another gap of silence.

"Angel, you just killed an innocent human being for no reason," you stated the obvious. Your brows furrowed and you stared at him. "Do you have any idea what this means?"

"Mm, no," Angel shook his head, "I'm sure I don't really care, either." He then pointed to the door. "Do you want to get ice cream with me, [Y/N]?"

"A-angel!" You pressed him with your words. "You... you killed an innocent human being!"

"...why do I care?" He gave you a blank stare. "I was doing her a favor. Now, do you want to get ice cream with me?" He extended his free hand in the direction of your body. "I know you're going home soon, since this is your day off."

You stared at him, horrified by the lack of humanity within him. Well, he was a devil... so of course he didn't have any shred of humanity, but still, didn't he feel even an ounce of remorse over what he just did? None at all? "Y-you killed her because of me," you reiterated in a more... significant light. "Why?"

"Because I didn't see you come into the building today, so I went around asking," he responded and sighed before he shoved his hands into his pockets. He would know better than to touch someone he cared for if he didn't want them to die. "She was mean to me, so she suffered the consequences."

Those words worried you. "What do you mean you went around and asked?" You narrowed your eyes. "Did you..."

"Only to those who were rude." Angel calmly stated, "not a lot of them were even subjected to what this woman went through. But I know she saw you... she saw you every time you came up on this floor. I know she did. She proceeded to lie about it, and for lying, she had to be killed." He tilted his head. "Have I answered your questions enough? Can we go get ice cream now?"

So many people had their lives threatened because of you. That was a tough pill to swallow, wasn't it?

The sound of the door opening made your heart beat quicken again. Your eyes shot to the door to see him standing in the doorway with his eyes still on you. "Come on. I want to go get ice cream."

"...why... why did you do it?" You weakly asked him as you stumbled forward to meet him. "Why would you subject all of these people to torture? A-and for... for me..?" It just didn't sound right.

"It may not be a lot, but it's honest work. I try my best to keep you safe. I have to know where you are at all times to do that though, right?" Angel shrugged his shoulders. "Think of me as your guardian angel, maybe that'll make the pill easier to swallow. ...so, can we go get ice cream?"

"N-no," you gently push him out of the way so that you can leave the building. "We won't be doing anything of the sort. I'm going to go to the hunter's association and ask to be reassigned to another devil."

Angel stumbled back, but was quick to grab your arm.

"Not if you want to live, you won't." He narrowed his eyes. "We're together now. If I can't have you, no one else can."

#chainsaw man #csm angel #angel devil #angel chainsaw man #angel x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #gender neutral insert

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬5/end

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse, blood, violence/death, fucking.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: Another finale! Hahahhaa, hope you like it!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed with shame burning in your cheeks but the heat quickly travelled to your loins as you thought of the scene at the drive-in. When you closed your eyes, you felt Arvin’s weight on you and his hand between your legs. You rolled onto one side, then the other, tossing and turning as you couldn’t escape the memory or the lingering sensation of his touch.

He was already downstairs when you woke up, a lazy Saturday morning as the garage was closed for the weekends. He was at the counter, boiling water for the coffee as you came down in a plain peach dress and flats. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at you, urging you to sit.

“I’m gonna make you breakfast, honey,” he announced as he filled the coffee press, “you know, my ma was a waitress. Worked down at this greasy diner when she met my dad. Before she died…” he stopped and his throat bobbed, “I dunno, I just remember the smell of her cookin’.”

“I’m sorry, Arvin,” you said as you took a seat at the table, “about your mother.”

“Why? It was so long ago, I hardly remember,” he shrugged as he searched the cupboards and pulled out the cast iron pan, “you know, I can barely even see my pa in my mind. Even when I really think. I feel like I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes already.” He put the metal to the burner, “but I think I found the one I want.”

You ran your fingertips along your throat nervously as you leaned your elbows on the table. You felt the void left by your missing wedding ring. You clapped your hands together and lowered them to the wood.

You watched him work in the kitchen. When you tried once to get up and help, he bid you back down tersely and you obliged. You felt restless sitting there as someone else did everything. He put a cup of coffee before you and sipped from his own between flipping the eggs.

Finally, he presented you with a plate of hash, egg, toast, and bacon. You thanked him as he sat and you picked up your fork and knife. You weren’t very hungry, the anxiety squeezed your stomach as you watched his hand. He buttered a slice and you recalled the tingle as his fingers sank into you.

You dropped your fork and apologised for the loud clang. You picked it back up and pushed the potato around. You were trying to think of what to say. Of how to say it. Arvin wasn’t volatile like Roy but he showed glimmers of anger that troubled you nonetheless.

“Last night…” you began.

“You liked it?” he perked up and swallowed, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Arvin,” you uttered.

“I just… you’re so wonderful and warm, I never known a woman like you,” he ranted, “and I… I never been with a woman, you know? I hope I didn’t leave you wanting--”

“Arvin,” you said more firmly, “I’m married.”

His face fell and he leaned back in his chair. He looked down as he scooped up some egg and hash and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed tight-lipped. His steely silence was worse than any punch. You shoved some yolk in your mouth and chewed.

“I…” you began, “I’m not meaning to upset you but we can’t just pretend--”

A deafening bang sounded and shook the house. Your breath caught as you looked at Arvin with wide eyes and he cleared his throat as he stood.

“Where is ya, boy?” Roy hollered as another blast came and you heard the door jolt. You rose and looked down the hall as slivers decorated the floor below the holes peppered in the wood. “I heard about you and my wife…” footsteps clamoured up the steps of the porch, “you think you can pull a gun on me? Well, I got a bigger one, boy!”

“Shit,” Arvin pulled you back as another gunshot blew out the handle, “go, hide.”

He shoved you away and turned back to the table. He tossed the butter knife and hurried to the counter. He pulled out a drawer and took out a steak knife. He shook his head and glanced over at you again.

“Go on,” he snarled.

“No, you,” you ran to him and touched his arm, “go, I’ll talk to him--”

“He’ll kill you,” he whispered.

“No, he won’t,” you assured, “he woulda done it years ago, Arvin, go.”

You pointed him to the back door and he shook his head. You met his eyes as he glanced back at you and you nodded.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll get him gone and come find you when he goes,” you promised, “Arvin, I can’t see you die because of me.”

His eyes searched your face and he touched your cheek. “Alright, honey,” he breathed, “you know I’ll do anything for you, don’t you?”

“Go,” you insisted as the door flew inward with a heavy kick.

Arvin scrambled away and the back door creaked in his stead as you turned to near the doorway and peer past the staircase. Roy kept the double barrel level as he pointed it at you. You quivered but tried not to show your terror.

“Roy,” you greeted through your tight throat.

“You whore,” he cocked the gun and you flinched, “I oughta shoot your fuckin’ head off too, but I just want the boy. Where is he?”

“I… I dunno, he just went out front, I thought you woulda seen him,” you lied as you filled the doorframe with your body, realising the table set for two would give away your deception.

“Don’t you be hidin’ him from me, you’re still my wife,” Roy snarled as you came closer, trying to keep him from the kitchen, “and I’m gonna put down that punk and remind you who I am. Who you are.”

“I am your wife, Roy,” you said evenly, “I can never forget that, now please, lower the gun, I’ll help you find him.”

“I ain’t believe you, you let him beat me--”

“What was I supposed to do?” you touched the metal muzzle, “he been keepin’ me here. He has a gun too, you know that.” You slid past the barrel and hesitantly reached to touch his chest, “I been so scared without you here, you’re my husband, Roy, and I love--”

He sputtered and flinched suddenly. The gun sagged and fired into the floorboards beside your shoes. The metal slid from his grasp and fell down smoking as a red splotch stained the dingy fabric of his shirt. The cascade spread as he staggered and you saw the wooden handle of the steak knife stick out from his side.

Arvin pulled the blade out as you tripped over the gun and toppled to the floor. Roy slumped to his knees as the younger man brought the knife down over his shoulder and sank it into his heart. Your lungs puffed with panic at the sickly crunch as the blade twisted between his ribs.

Your eyes widened and blurred with tears as bitterness filled your stomach. You opened your mouth and screamed as Roy fell onto his stomach and gasped out his last breaths. You felt a slickness on your cheek as a hand touched you and an arm wrapped around you. You blinked and Arvin came clear as he held the knife against your face and pulled you into his lap to cradle you.

“Wh--wh--wh--” you babbled as your eyes found your husband, completely still across the floorboards.

“He can’t hurt you no more,” Arvin cooed as he rocked you, “I heard him, he said he was gon’ shoot you. I told you, honey, I’ll do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.”

🚬

The porcelain was cold against your body as you sat in the tub, the hot water slowly rose around you. Arvin shoved your bloody clothes in a bag and took off his own. He tied up the sack, his hands still tinged scarlet. He put the bundle in the sink and neared the wall of the footed tub.

You watched him step over the side, his stomach tightly muscles, his figure much more slender than Roy’s, though his arms were thick and his shoulders wide. He lowered himself across from you as he sat with his back to the flowing faucet. The water deepened and scalded your skin.

He took a cloth and scrubbed your face, your neck, your chest above the surface of the water. You were numb as you felt itchy, as if bugs crawled over every inch of flesh. He stood you up and finished washing you. He was gentle but firm, lingering around your curves as his brown eyes drank you in.

He took a new cloth for himself and after wiping off the droplets across his face and rinsing his body, he scratched the red from around his nails. You shivered as he helped you out of the tub and hugged you in a towel. He led you to the bed and laid you down under the quilt.

“Gonna drive out and find a ditch,” he said as he dressed. “Finish cleaning when I get back. Probably need another bath then.”

You said nothing as you stared at the ceiling, a searing white.

“Honey,” he neared and pressed his hand to your forehead, “I know you’re shook. He tried to kill ya. We both heard him say it.”

You looked at him and your eyes dampened. He bent and pecked your lips and retracted his hand reluctantly.

“I’ll try not to be too long,” he promised and pulled on his denim jacket.

He left you and you listened to his footsteps fade. You closed your eyes and saw Roy’s blood spilling forth like a tainted river. You could hear the scraping as he was dragged across the wood, Arvin’s grunts as you watched him struggle to roll your husband’s large body in a sheet.

Your lashes flicked open but the picture is painted vivid in your mind. You hear the car and the engine fades into the soft sway of trees and the noise of critters in the grass. You don’t have the strength to do more than lay there. Time passes by your stagnant eyes and the shadows set in from the corner of the room. The windows darkened and deepened your gloom.

Arvin startled you as he appeared at the door. You didn’t hear the approach of his car or his footsteps on the stairs. He neared and kissed you again. He pulled the chain on the lamp and it cast a yellow haze over you.

“You’re awake,” he said as he stood straight, “I needa wash up again.” You hummed and stayed as you were, “you want tea?”

You shook your head and he watched you. He clamped his thin lips together and backed away.

“Found his truck, just down the way,” he pulled his grey tee over his head, “looks like he drove out to the river, walked up here. Make sure it was seen so he can’t be traced up here. Smarter than he looked.” Arvin bent to untie his boots. “I left it in the water, put it into gear and let it drift off.”

You rolled onto your side and pulled the blanket to your ear. He quieted as you listened to the rustle of his clothing as he stripped it away.

“Anyhow, they won’t find him,” he said, “likely he told whoever, if anyone even cared, that he was goin’ fishin’.”

He waited for an answer but didn’t get it. He went into the bathroom and you heard the pipes rattle as he twisted on the faucet. You felt the dampness cross the hallway and seep into the room. When he returned, he gave a sigh and tossed his towel over the old chair sat by your vanity.

He folded the blanket back and you closed your eyes at his nudity. He slid in next to you and tugged the blanket over his shoulders. He circled his arm around you and brought your body against his. Suddenly, you felt everything as you were set alight by the heat of his flesh.

“Honey,” he said softly as he framed your face with his hand, “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

You quivered and pushed your hands to his chest. You’d never been naked with another man, never seen another man naked. In the tub, you hardly figured what was happening but then, it was all too real as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh.

“Didn’t I save you? He would killed both of us,” he rasped, “honey, I know, I’ve met so many men like him…” he rubbed his nose against yours, “and killed every one of them.”

You winced and your fingers curled into his shoulders. He smothered you with a kiss as his hand trailed down and he cupped your chest. He groaned as he fondled you, tilting his hips to rub his dick against you. He rolled your nipple under his thumb as he dragged his lips down your cheek and chin.

His hand crept around your side as he slipped lower to nibble your breasts. Roy never touched you like that. Early on he was clumsy but impatient, and after a while, he was thankless and cruel. Arvin was gentle, doting and diligent. He suckled at your bud and the tugging plucked at your core.

“Mmm,” he left a path of spit down your stomach as he nudged you onto your back, “honey, you’re so beautiful,” he disappeared beneath the blanket and pushed your legs apart as he nuzzled your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your patch of hair.

He purred as nosed your cunt and his tongue dipped between your folds. You murmured and reached down to grasp his damp hair. You brought your thighs against his head and arched your back as he tended to you, slow and scintillating as he filled you with a yearning you’d never known before.

You didn’t think as you tangled your fingers in his locks and tilted your pelvis against his lapping. You shouldn’t feel this way, should feel so good. Your husband was dead and there was another man in your bed. You were a whore, just as he said. But it felt good and he wasn’t there to tell you again.

Arvin moaned as he devoured you, his hands hungrily groped your ass as he lifted you slightly from the bed. He pushed a finger against your entrance and eased into you. You gasped and he dipped another inside of you. He moved his hand in time with his mouth, his groans rumbling through you.

You hooked your legs under his arm and cried out as you came. Your body spasmed and jerked and you rode out the shattering ascent. You shook as you stilled and kissed your thighs with his wet lips, smearing your juices across your flesh.

You panted as he pushed himself up and the blanket fell down his back, leaving both your bodies bare to the soft glow of the lamp. His hands roved over your body and he bent again, kissing every inch his fingertips danced over first. He brought his lips back to yours and you tasted the sweetness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

He pushed his thighs to yours so your legs bent around them, wide and welcoming. He parted and stared down at you, his deep brown eyes swallowing you up.

“The moment I saw you, I knew,” he said as he caressed your cheek, “and I haven’t stopped thinking of this ever since that moment.”

“Arvin,” you sighed and touched his wrist.

“I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reached down between your bodies as he planted and elbow into the pillow. He ran his tip along your wet folds and his jaw clenched. “I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you…” he pressed against you until his tip was inside you, “forever.”

“Arvin,” you gulped and gripped his muscled arms, “I…”

“He’s gone,” he sank further into you and kissed you again, “and you’re mine.”

You moaned and he bottomed out with a gasp. His body tensed and he shuddered as he wiggled his hips.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, “so warm, so… sweet. Oh, honey.”

“Please…” you croaked as your eyes watered.

You didn’t know if it was the bloodiness of the day or that you’d never felt anything so pleasant, so gentle, so caring. You didn’t know why you were crying or why your body buzzed like cicadas under the moon. You pushed your head into the pillow as he pressed his fingers to your clit and rubbed in time with his steady thrusts.

“Honey,” he droned and kissed your wet cheek between each stroke, “oh, you’re so nice.”

He tilted into you over and over. You brought your legs around him and hooked your arms under his as you clawed at his back. Your body contorted with his as your eyes rolled back and you succumbed to the stolid heat coursing through your veins. You cried out and let your hands fall down as you groped his ass, begging for more.

The bed quaked as he grew more fervent in his appetite, the pain was dulled by the sheer bliss and you sang out your delight. There was nothing but his body and that radiating pulse in your core. You came again and again as you whined ravenously and dug your nails into his flesh.

He jerked into you with a fluttery breath. His hips stuttered and he fell limp over you. His head hung over your shoulder as he huffed. His cum coated your walls in a salacious heat and you ran your hands up his back. He turned his head to kiss your temples, tears still rolling down to your lobes.

As your nerves stilled and the afterglow dimmed, reality shrouded you once more. The body over yours felt heavier as you were paralysed against the bed. Arvin drew you with him as he rolled onto his side and held you. It was nice but tinged with the horror wrought by his hands.

You didn’t miss Roy but you didn’t feel free either.

🚬

Arvin rolled out the rug over the bloodstain in the hall, the whole covered over with a thin board of scrap. You watched and clutched your purse then checked the clock. He stood and neared to fetch his jacket from the small square corner table. He pulled it over the button-up that once belonged to your dad and the tie that was Roy’s.

His hair was combed back tidily and he wore a carefree smile. His eyes twinkled as he offered his hand and gestured to the door. The frame was curtained with a sheet as the shredded wood was removed and another would be ordered from Tim’s Hardware. He clung to your hand as he followed you out into the Sunday sunlight.

“We don’t have to go,” you said as he swung your hand and led you to the Chevrolet, “I know you don’t like it.”

“Nah, we should go to church,” he smiled and spun you to kiss you. He held your face between your hands as his lips lingered overly long. “Let the lord and all the other holy people see me and my girl.”

“Arvin,” you shied away.

He reached past you and opened the door. You sat and he gripped the metal as he looked down at you.

“I will keep my hands to myself before the lord,” he avowed, “I only ask his blessing for what I know to be his work.”

You considered him and wrung the short strap of your purse, “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“I didn’t, not before,” he said with a smile, “not ‘til I met you. His most precious angel.”

You chewed your lip and turned your face down. He chuckled and closed the door. He got in the driver’s side and the engine rolled over. His hand wandered over to your lap as he steered with one hand. You looked out the window and stared up at the pale blue sky.

You didn’t believe in God. You couldn’t. Just like your father said, a benevolent lord would not gift such suffering to his creation. There was no all-knowing being sitting in the clouds, no glorious purpose for you or any other. There were only devilish men and their dark deeds.

#Arvin Russell #arvin russell x reader #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #Of something beautiful but annihilating #the devil all the time

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five-rivers · 3 years ago

Note

If you're taking prompt what if Inko was the daughter of AfO and Izuku still gets OfA later. But he has fire breath like his dead beat dad thanks to his grandfather. Teach him for running out on his baby girl.

It had taken long enough that his minions were in need of a serious reprimand, but finally Midoriya Hisashi was sprawled on the ground at All for One's feet. He was suitably beaten, bound, and blindfolded, but alive, as requested.

"Hello, Hisashi. I suppose you didn't think you'd ever see me again." He used the man's first name, because he didn't care to associate his daughter's surname with this sniveling waste of space, even if he had legally adopted it at their farce of a wedding.

Hisashi froze. A whisper of smoke leaked past his lips.

"I wonder, do you even recognize my voice?"

"Shi- Shigaraki..."

"Oh, very good!" All for One clapped his hands in a show of false cheer. "So! You remember your father-in-law, but not your wife? Not your son?"

"I- I-"

"Because amnesia is the only acceptable excuse I can think of for abandoning them and trying to move all the way to Hokkaido. Unless you'd like to try a different one." All for One paused, and the silence stretched out before him, thin and brittle, much like Hisashi's bones. "I'm waiting."

"It- it isn't my fault," whined the man. "And I- I was always going to send money back. I just- I just can't live there anymore. I- Shouldn't you be pleased about this? You hated me and Inko get-"

All for One kicked Hisashi sharply. "Don't even say her name. I did hate your sham of a marriage. But as long as it made her happy, I put up with it."

Hisashi wheezed, more smoke filling the air of the disused underground parking garage they were meeting in.

"Speak clearly," demanded All for One.

"It- the boy. He's quirkless. I could- couldn't stay, with everyone knowing."

"Oh?" said All for One, voice suddenly silky smooth. He bent over and put his hand on top of Hisashi's head. "Well, lucky for you, that's something I can fix."

All for One dropped Hisashi on one of Garaki's carefully polished operating tables. "Make him into something interesting," he ordered, and Garaki scrambled to examine his new materials.

Meanwhile, All for One took a seat in one of Garaki's rolling chair. "I simply don't understand it," he said. "Who leaves their family just because they had a quirkless child? Unbelievable."

Of course, All for One had seen similar things many times before in his long life and knew they happened very well. He simply failed to understand. With his brother, even when he'd actively been trying to dismantle his empire... Destroying other people made sense, but family was special.

"He should be pleased by this outcome, really. Izuku won't be quirkless for much longer."

"You- you're giving him a quirk, my lord?"

"Yes," said All for One. "This fool's quirk, to be precise. And perhaps his grandmother's. I'll miss it, of course, but to be honest, I don't really use it the way it should be."

"But," said Garaki, "my lord, I've already diagnosed the boy as quirkless."

"Then you'll just have to practice your groveling for when you apologize to them." He paused. "Surely you aren't concerned about the medical reputation of a throwaway identity?"

"Not at all, my lord," said Garaki in a way that indicated extreme dissatisfaction.

All for One ignored him.

"Kacchan! Kacchan! Guess what? Guess what?"

"Go away, nerd!"

Izuku was undeterred. "I got my quirk!"

Kacchan scowled mightily. "No you didn't! You were dig-dag-dignoz-" The frown became mightier. "The doctor said you were quirkless, stupid deku!"

"The doctor was wrong! Watch! Watch!" He puckered his lips and a small tongue of flame emerged from between them. "And that's not it!" He pointed at a stunned Kacchan and a small gust of wind ruffled his hair. "I can do that, too! Mama said it's just like gramma's!"

"That's- you- You're still not better than me!"

"I know!" said Izuku, cheerfully.

"Hm, I don't know," said another one of the students watching, "Deku can do two things, and Bakugo just explodes..."

Bakugo's shriek of rage was audible throughout the entire preschool.

"Two quirks, Dad? Two? TWO? After everything you drilled into my head about how dangerous it was to give people multiple quirks? What were you thinking?" demanded Inko.

"Hardly anyone dies from just two quirks," said All for One, "and he retained the family adaptation for accepting multiple quirks, the risk was-"

"Not. Yours. To. Take." Inko punctuated each word with a jab to the chest, then sat down heavily in the nearest chair. "I hope you understand. I am furious with you."

"Inko, princess-"

Inko held up her hand. "No. If I see Izuku with another quirk, I will kill you. Do you understand? No warning, no third chances. If you're a threat to my son, you're dead."

"Perfectly," said All for One, choosing not to mention the longevity quirks all three of them had.

Watching illegally obtained footage of his grandson's entrance exam was and excellent way to unwind after a long and stressful day of being unspeakably evil.

Right up until the part where Izuku destroyed a giant robot by punching it to bits.

The heartrate monitor he was attached to unhelpfully informed him that his had skyrocketed. He had never told Inko about One for All. The entrance exam had taken place hours ago.

"Kurogiri!" he called. "Kurogiri?"

No response.

"Hello, Dad."

Izuku's acceptance into UA was marred by news of his grandfather's sudden death. He had been getting older, but he always sounded so full of life when they talked on the phone.

After the service, Izuku lingered by the grave. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a small booklet, a copy of a vintage comic his grandfather had gotten him into. He put it down by the headstone.

"I was always too embarrassed to tell you this," he said, softly, "but the real reason I started to want to be a hero... it wasn't that old All Might video. It was this." He tapped the cover of the comic. "The way the hero never gave up..." Izuku sniffed. "It was just really inspiring." He wiped tears away from his face. "I'll make you proud. I promise. I'll be the best hero there ever was!"

In America, a woman named Morticia Roll paused. Her rather niche quirk was the ability to know who would be spinning in their graves the most, if people were able to spin in their graves.

Most of the time, that honor belonged to some random European dude. But Shigaraki Hiroshi sounded Asian... She shrugged and went back to her gardening. Whatever was happening, it wasn't any of her business.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #ask #answer #prompt fill #prompt

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 4) - Safety Nets

Summary: The reader has her first date with Jensen, a simple dinner at home with him and the kids, but when they get a moment alone, he shares some information about the accident hardly anyone knows. Just as things start to get moving with the pair, Jensen has to head to Canada for filming ahead of schedule but he’s not so sure he can go back to whole weeks away from his family right now...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,200ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, mention of injury, depression, anxiety, self-worth problems

A/N: Shopping buddies are the best ;) Please enjoy!

________

“Can I help set the table?” you asked the next evening, Jensen shaking his head at you.

“JJ, can you set the table for me?” asked Jensen. She jumped up from the couch and got out silverware, setting an extra spot for you.

“Y/N, are you and dad on a date?” she asked when she finished up. You looked down from where you leaned back against the counter, Jensen chuckling.

“Yes we are sweetie. If this goes well I’d like to take Y/N out on Friday, maybe you guys can go to Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen’s,” he said.

“You should go out with dad,” said JJ.

“Oh I should?” you said, crossing your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Cause he’s strong and handsome and smart and funny and…” she said, holding up her hand and counting on her hand.

“The hair,” he whispered, a smirk crossing your face.

“Oh and he’s only got a few gray hairs!” she said.

“Oh. Well that is interesting,” you laughed, Jensen smacking himself in the face.

“Great hair, JJ. Not gray. Great,” he said.

“You do have gray whiskers,” she said.

“Like...barely,” he said. “See what I put up with? A few teensy tiny little patches in my beard if it grows out.”

“I don’t know if I can date a man of such frail age,” you said. He cocked his head and you laughed, JJ giggling as she went to get the plates.

“Keep it up you two,” he said. You walked over to him, JJ going past with the plates. “Come to tease some more?”

“I was told you’re quite handsome, thought I’d get a closer look,” you said.

“You can have as close a look as you want,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Calm yourself, Casanova,” you said, reaching up to the cupboard to get another plate for JJ. “Here sweetie.”

“Thanks,” she said. She set it ran back over, hugging you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

“Good,” she said. You bent down and picked her up, resting her on your hip.

“Where’d you think I was going?” you asked. She shrugged and Jensen stopped stirring the pot.

“I don’t know. Wherever you were before. Dad’s a lot happier since you live with us now,” she said.

“Well taking care of you three is hard all by yourself,” you said. You set her down and patted her head. “Go get your brother and sister for dinner.”

“You’re good with them,” he said, stirring the pot again.

“They’re people. Small people that don’t know half of what adults do but still people. Sometimes you gotta treat ‘em like it. Most of the time actually,” you said.

“I talked to her earlier about this whole situation,” he said.

“Besides listing off all your selling points what’d she think?”

“Well apparently she’s in favor of me asking if you’d marry me tonight,” he said.

“Oh. Shotgun wedding. Simple. I like it,” you laughed. He turned his head and smiled, glancing down for a long moment, slowly returning.

“Why doesn’t this situation scare you? The kids, me who has been all over the place lately, not to mention my job, long distance, the shit you get just for-” he said, your hand covering his mouth.

“I didn’t say it’s not a lot, Jensen. It’s scary. Of course it is. Every single one of my relationships has ended badly for one reason or another. Friendships. Family ones. Romantic ones. You’re handsome and you’re so successful and I’m literally a nanny but you said you wouldn’t hurt me. So I’ll trust that you won’t and you trust I won’t hurt you and it’ll work itself out.”

“That simple huh.”

“I’m easy going. Let’s keep it simple,” you said.

“Simple works,” he said as you pulled the pot off the burner before it bubbled over. “Simple definitely works.”

“This is not a good idea,” you said two hours later, the kids in bed, you and Jensen jumping up and down on the trampoline in the yard.

“Oh most certainly not,” he said, landing near you and sending you up. You yelped and landed back down on your bottom, Jensen bouncing again, sending you up again and laughing this time. “Well that’s a cute sound.”

“Boys. Is it taught somewhere that you gotta tease a girl when you like her?” you asked, Jensen pulling you to your feet and bouncing around lightly.

“Right after manly man class, duh,” he said.

“You would have failed, I can tell you right now,” you said. He scoffed and you shrugged. “That’s kinda a really good thing.”

“That your ex? Tough guy all the time?” he asked.

“Not like, to that extent or anything. I had a bad day and I really needed someone and he let me down. He got mad at me for it actually. He called depression a phase I needed to get over with,” you said. He stopped bouncing and you did the same, glancing down. Next thing you knew he playfully tackled you onto the trampoline, rolling to his side and smiling at you.

“Some of my friends have it. One of my best friends does. Jared. If he ever knocks on the door late at night or whatever, let him in.”

“You take care of everyone in your life it seems,” you said.

“You take care of the people you care about, not insult them. Hopefully the ex figures that out someday.”

“How’d you figure it out?”

“I don’t do anything anyone else shouldn’t,” he said.

“Maybe that’s it,” you said. “You’re unapologetically good and you don’t even know how rare that is.”

“It takes up too much energy to be angry or mean or cruel. I’d just rather be happy,” he said.

“You got a lot of friends, don’t you.”

“My fair share,” he said.

“How many would you call close?”

“Maybe ten or so.”

“How many real close?”

“Two or three.”

“How many know what really happened that day? Your wife…” you said. He stared at you and swallowed.

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because when we met you said she died in an accident but then you said it was her head. You’re holding onto something, something you don’t talk about.”

“She was driving when the aneurysm happened. I was in the car with her. I almost died. It’s seemed easier to lie about that.”

“Who knows?”

“My parents and Jared. They’re the only ones.”

“You ever talk to anyone about it?”

“I went to talk to someone a few times. I’m better now,” he said with a smile. “I don’t share a lot if you may have guessed already. Not to too many people. But you it feels so easy to.”

“Must be special,” you said. He smiled and reached a hand over, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. “That why you like me?”

“There’s a lot of stereotypical reasons to like someone and part of that is true in why you choose someone I suppose. But there’s this other part that when you meet someone that you can’t really explain.”

“I get that. I get all of it. My brain always seems to want to go to the bad scenario first I suppose,” you said. You looked up at the black sky, Jensen toying with another strand between two fingers. “I wish it didn’t do that so much.”

“You’re just trying to protect yourself is all,” he said.

“But I come off as pushy and distant,” you said, turning your head. “Like I’m that person that’s cool with everything being casual.”

“Well think of it like this trampoline. It’s the only thing holding us up right now right?” he asked and you hummed. “Well my life, I’ve had thousands of safety nets below me to catch me when I fall so even if I tore through one, there was more to hold me up while the others got fixed. You never had as many to start and I think more of yours broke and there was no way to fix them in time so you kept tumbling through until you got to the ground.”

“Your point?”

“Maybe some people hit the ground and others never do. But the people who hit the ground, as they go back up they can make the best most solid nets in the world to hold them up. One good net beats a thousand flimsy ones.”

“So at what age do I get the wisdom?” you asked, turning your head and smiling over at him.

“You don’t. My job has made me fall through more nets than I wanted to and this year made me realize I might not have a thousand strong nets at the bottom but I just needed one to get by and now I’m working back up. You’re not even close to being down low either. You’ve already had the hardest part of your life. It’s all up from here.”

You leaned over and he lay back on the trampoline, gazing up at you. You lowered your head as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in close until your lips were touching. Part of your mind was reeling from that in itself but the other half knew that was his first kiss since his wife. You inched back but stayed close, Jensen peeling open his eyes.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Very,” he said. You lay back beside him, Jensen letting you go. His hand reached out for yours though and laced your fingers together. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“Wanted to,” you said.

“Cool. I wanted to kiss you too,” he said.

“Alright then.” You stared upwards, the trampoline shifting again. He popped into view propped up on one arm, your head turning slightly. He was flush, even in the dim light. He moved slowly but you let him come to you, a barely there gentle kiss that lingered, a thousand gears going in your head, likely a thousand more going off in his.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly as he pulled back a few inches. Your fingers carded through his hair and he smiled. “I’ll get the hang of this again. I promise.”

“That was more than enough for one night,” you said. “We said slow and we’ll go slow, okay?”

“Sounds good with me.”

Two Days Later

“Y/N, can I have a word with you in my office?” asked Jensen as you were picking up after dinner. You hummed and put the last fork in the dishwasher before following him down to a quieter part of the house. He shut the door behind you and he ran his hand over his face. “This is about work, my work, but it’s going to involve you. Heavily.”

“What’s up?” you asked, taking a seat in a chair. He sat in his by his desk, scrunching up his face.

“My job with that TV show, The Boys, it films in Canada. I’m gonna need to be up there four, maybe five months. The way things used to work with my wife was I would fly back home every weekend or every other weekend. I never went more than 2 weeks seeing the kids. I don’t have to film every day but it’s easier to stay there for the week. But it’s...it’s difficult for me. It’s difficult for them and...they lost one parent this year. I can’t stay away that long for months. I just can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” you said.

“I’d like to temporarily move to Canada while I film. No flying back and forth. The kids can see me everyday and I can see them. JJ’s school still offers remote learning and I’m homeschool certified in a pinch. Twins can do daycare easy. The only issue I have is the same one I originally did. I still need a nanny. Only now in a different country...and it’s gonna be more late nights on the regular.”

“I see,” you said.

“This isn’t what you signed up for so if you don’t want it, that’s okay. I can find a nanny up there and we can try long distance and-” he said before you stood and walked in front of him.

“I’m in.”

“Really? I mean it’s gonna be awhile before we’re back in the states,” he said.

“It sounds like fun.”

“Awesome. I was really hoping you’d say that,” he said.

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“Toronto. Well, near there. I gotta start filming start of February but there’s promo stuff to do in late January,” he said.

“It’s already late January,” you laughed. “When do we have to move?”

“Uh, tomorrow,” he said. “Just got the call a few hours ago. I got a house to rent lined up already.”

“Oh wow. Alright. Uh, what do I need to do exactly?” you asked.

“Keep stuff normal. Don’t worry about cleaning or anything. Maybe box up anything you want to bring and some of the kids stuff. Toys, books, that stuff. I’ll handle their bags. We’ll ship it all up tomorrow and take a flight up at night,” he said.

“Okay, cool,” you said. “Wait I need like, a snow jacket right?”

“We’ll get you set up there with coat and boots and all that,” he said.

“Gotcha,” you said, starting to leave before you spun around and walked smack into his chest. “Wait. I have a lot more questions actually. Like...I don’t have a passport?”

“I know which is why tomorrow morning first thing you’re gonna go down to the post office, get your passport done up and when it comes in, we’ll get it shipped up to Canada,” he said.

“How do I get into Canada though?”

“We share a border with them so we bring your license and birth certificate, you can go right on in no problem,” he said.

“Oh. Okay,” you said. “Wait. I’ve never been on an airplane before. What-”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Take a hot second and breathe and we’ll go from there. I know it’s last minute but it’ll work out. I promise.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen, tapping your shoulder two days later. You hummed and reluctantly turned your head away from staring out the back sliding doors to the snow covered yard and trees around you. “Have you ever seen snow before?”

“No. Not like this,” you said, head going back to staring outside. “It’s something out of a movie.”

“You had that same look on your face when we took off last night in the plane.”

“What’s that?”

“Those little moments where the years fall off and you get that childish joy, like nothing bad has ever happened,” he said.

“I suppose there’s hope for me yet,” you said with a smile.

“Oh there was always that,” he chuckled. He threw an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him. “Can I still take you out Friday?”

“Who’s gonna watch the kids?” you asked.

“My buddy.”

“Does he exist?” you said, grinning at him.

“Cute,” he said, ruffling your bedhead. “Yes he does exist. How’s Friday night sound?”

“Do I need a dress?” you asked.

“Probably. It’s a nice place,” he said. “My favorite place in Toronto actually. Jeans are perfectly acceptable there though.”

“I’ll pick out a dress today too,” you said. You kissed his cheek and watched them turn an ever so light pink. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “Put your boots and coat on the card I gave you alright? That’s a business expense.”

“Whatever you say boss,” you said. “I’m gonna duck out before the little ones get up. I’ll try not to be gone too long.”

“Take your time. Drive slow in the snow until you get the hang of it, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“What the fuck’s the difference between therma heat and therma wear…” you mumbled to yourself, gawking at the glove rack at the store an hour later.

“I think it’s just marketing,” said the guy on the other side. You jumped and managed to knock about five pairs off the hangers. He laughed quietly and peeked his head around. “Didn’t mean to spoke ya.”

“It’s alright. I’m…” you said, the man smiling as you shook your head out. “Um...I…”

“You okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded and he smiled. “You sure cause you were just having a life crisis over gloves a second ago and now you can’t seem to form a sentence.”

“You’re Home…” you said, shutting your eyes. “You’re the actor that plays...I’m having a fucking day.”

“Looks like it,” he said, bending down and picking up some of the gloves. He laughed again and you got the ones closest to you, putting them back. “You know it’s like ten degrees outside right? Not exactly sneaker weather.”

“I know. This place looks pretty but it’s worse than a Texas summer almost with how cold it is.”

“I thought you sounded not from here,” he said with a smile. “I’m not from around here either. I do better with the heat myself.”

“Okay um, listen...uh, what’s your name, not Homelander?” you asked.

“Antony,” he chuckled again.

“I’m Y/N. I’m just gonna get the weird stuff out of the way cause…” you said as he smiled but stepped back a foot. “Yeah. Um I’m a fan but like...do you know Jensen Ackles?”

“Why?” he asked.

“He’s my boss...and my boyfriend but that’s another story. We might run into each other at some point, probably very likely. Just wanted to throw that out there.”

“Your boss?” he asked.

“I nanny his kids. I wouldn’t believe me if I were you either. I should go,” you said. You groaned when you were past him, hearing a pair of feet jog to catch up with you.

“I know you. You were on his instagram last week right? Yeah okay, that makes sense why a clueless Texas girl is stressing over gloves.”

“Excuse me?” He shook his head and smiled.

“Get a pair of thick gloves, thinner ones but not too thin, a warm hat, good boots for traction along with some boot spray and go with a longer hooded parka. It’ll be warmer. Throw in a few pairs of wool socks to be sure,” he said.

“Oh. Thank you,” you said. You looked back at the store and then to him. “There’s like five hundred coats in here.”

“How about you buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll help you out. Deal?”

“Why would you help me?” you asked.

“Well I’m gonna be working with Jensen quite a bit and he’s your boyfriend too apparently plus it’s just nice,” he said.

“You’re so not like your character.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. We’ll be out of here in an hour tops.”

Antony turned out to be very helpful since apparently you had an uncanny ability to be attracted to the least warmth rated items in the whole store. But you had your parka and boots on now, other items tucked away in the bags as you browsed through a rack of black dresses at a different store.

“We dress shopping now?” said Antony, sipping on his coffee cup.

“Dude,” you said, jumping again. “You gotta learn to make noise.”

“It’s my natural stealth,” he said. “That one.”

“What?”

“That one,” he said, nodding to a dress on the wall.

“I can’t pull that one off,” you said.

“Try it. I’ll watch your stuff,” he said.

“You’re oddly nice,” you said. “To a stranger.”

“Well this beats my plans of walking around the mall buying crap I don’t need. Besides, I like you.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I’m taken,” he laughed. “Come on. Everybody needs a shopping buddy.”

“Okay but if you’re a weirdo Jensen will kick your ass,” you said, finding your size and taking it off the rack. “Just sayin’.”

“I like the guy more already,” he said. “It’s not like it’s your first date or anything.”

“...Second date.” He stared and looked away. “It’s…complicated.”

“I heard about...you know…the accident,” he said.

“Let him bring that up,” you said and he nodded. You took the dress into the changing room and smirked at the mirror. “Alright, maybe we give this one a shot.”

You changed back and found Antony on a bench outside.

“I should take you shopping more often,” you said. “You have good taste.”

“Sounds like a winner,” he said, handing you back your bags. “I gotta head out for work but it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’m sure I’ll see you around very soon.”

“Me too. Thanks for the help today, really.”

“Not a problem at all. See ya later,” he said as he headed out. You gave him a wave and picked out a pair of black heels to go with the dress before you were heading home.

“Hey Jensen,” you said late that night. He’d had to go in for some photos in the afternoon and had taken quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated. “Leftovers are in the container on the top shelf.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. He rubbed his eyes and padded into the kitchen before tossing the container in the microwave.

“Um, Jensen? Can I talk to you about work?” you asked. His ears perked up and he nodded while he looked around for a spoon. “Second drawer to the left.”

“Thanks,” he said. “So what’s up? Something wrong?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking earlier though about a backup plan,” you said. He took out the container and grabbed his spoon sitting across from you at the table.

“What’s a backup plan?” he asked, shoveling a spoonful of too hot pasta into his mouth.

“Well down in Austin, say I was suddenly unable to perform my job duties cause I’m sick or hurt or I’m off on vacation or whatever. Down there I have a network of other nannies that could step in temporarily, they can do a pick up or drop off in a bind, that sort of thing. It’s kind of a support group in way. It’s good for me and for you.”

“They must have one of those things up here?” he asked, taking a slower bite this time. You spun your computer around and he nodded. “Tornanny. That’s cute. You gotta sign up or something?”

“I need to take a four hour class. They have one on Saturday morning. Is it okay if I sign up?” you asked. He chuckled and took another bite of food.

“Weekends are still yours to do as you please. I need a bit more help during weeknights or mornings but weekends are still yours. I’m also compensating your pay for the additional time and no you’re not winning that argument so don’t even try.”

“Okay. I’m gonna sign up,” you said, turning the computer back.

“What was that thing on the side?” he asked.

“Hm?” you said as you started filling in the form.

“Some happy hour thing on the side,” he said. You flicked your eyes over to the side of the page and saw the group posting. “That could be fun.”

“Do I look like the kind of person that goes to happy hours?” you said.

“Well maybe you could meet a nanny friend in this group, one you could maybe get to cover for you if you ever needed it. I did steal you away from everything you know to a different country with a days notice after all. I’d go with you if you want,” he said.

“What about the kids?”

“Hm?”

“Jensen. I’m starting to see a fatal flaw in me being the nanny and us dating. I’m the person that should be watching the kids when you go out,” you said.

“Hm,” he said, eating for a few moments. “You do have a point. I think we need to renegotiate your contract.”

“Wait you’re firing me?” you said, Jensen shaking his head and laughing. “Okay cause you were about to lose a girlfriend for a second there.”

He smiled to himself and looked down, playing with his dinner.

“So what are you talking about?” you asked.

“Well, girlfriend,” he chuckled. “How about this? Weekends you don’t work, at all, for any reason. If you watch the kids for an hour while I duck to the store, it’s cause you’re doing it cause of us, not as part of your job. If we want to go out or on a date on the weekend, we’ll get a sitter. I had a go to in Vancouver when I lived there. I’ll give her a call, see if she knows anyone out here that would work. That sound good?”

“I guess that’s alright,” you said. He raised and eyebrow and you shrugged. “I enjoy our alone time, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to take away from them though.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not saying…” he said before he trailed off and ate the last bites of his food. “I moved us so they could see me everyday which is far more than they ever did when I filmed my show. I will still make them breakfast. I will still put them to bed. I will still have lunch with them and play with them and all of it. They’ll always by my first priority. But a relationship with kids doesn’t always mean the kids are around. Sometimes they come with, sometimes they stay home. I’m not talking about ditching them for days on end. A few hours on a Saturday night, most of which they’ll be in bed asleep is all I’m talking about. We have a right to a little bit of time for ourselves. It’s not as easy with them than it was the first time around but we just have to try harder is all.”

“Okay,” you said. “I’m good with that. How was your first day?”

“Good. We did a lot of promotional stuff. I won’t start acting until next week. I heard you met Antony shopping today.”

“Yeah. I didn’t get a chance to tell you when I got home earlier. He seems like a nice guy.”

“He does. He invited us to dinner once we settle into a routine,” he said. “Apparently you two are shopping buddies now.”

“The man does know how to choose a dress.”

“Good thing I packed my lucky suit up here,” he said.

“Speaking of suits...you wouldn’t happen to have any of you in your Soldier Boy suit from today?”

“No spoilers,” he said with a smirk. You jutted out your lip and he rolled his eyes, taking out his phone. He tapped and slid it over to you, your eyes wide. You must have stared for a solid minute before you looked over at him, Jensen leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and a huge grin on his face. “You think I’m hot, don’t you.”

“Pft, no,” you said, biting your bottom lip before you licked it. He was still grinning out of the corner of your eye and you gave him the phone back. “Maybe...you’re kinda hot. But it’s totally the suit. Like right now, ugh, horrendous.”

“Nah, I’m hot,” he said, sticking out his stomach and rubbing it.

“I’m impressed you can actually do that,” you said.

“Everybody’s got a tummy,” he said. “Seriously though, you think the suit is cool?”

“It looks awesome. I’d love to see it in person,” you said.

“Oh you guys will be on set at some point,” he said. “I’m kinda nervous about next week.”

“Really? Why? You’re a great actor.”

“Have you ever seen a single thing I’ve done,” he chuckled.

“I did in fact see that horror movie on a date years ago. Something with like mining?” you asked.

“That’s what you saw? Like that movie? I hope the date worked out at least,” he said with a big smirk.

“Actually it was the crappy ex,” you said.

“Oh. You guys must have dated for a long time then.”

“Since we were seventeen,” you said. He stared and you shrugged. “I kept waiting for him to grow up and change. Eventually I realized he never would.”

“Did you love him?”

“I loved the idea of him. I liked him. I was with him for close to 12 years so I obviously liked him. But it wasn’t love. I could never be myself all the way around him and that’s not a way to live. There was none of that feeling when you first meet someone, you know?”

“Would I be pushing to ask if you ever thought about marrying the guy?”

“He did propose actually. A few times,” you said. “I turned him down. Things really went downhill from there though.”

“Why’d you say no?”

“I didn’t want to marry someone that made me feel bad about being me. Got tired of him telling me to get over everything that happened as a kid, dress a certain way, should I really have dessert, that kind of crap.”

“It’s part of who you are. I wouldn’t exactly call your past something to get over,” said Jensen. “Why would he even make you feel bad about it? You’re so normal.”

“I don’t think his daddy hugged him enough,” you said.

“No need to be a dick to other people for it,” he said. You smiled as you finished filling out the rest of the form for the class before sending it off. “Hey on the plus side I did get a good recommendation for daycare today. I was gonna check it out tomorrow morning, maybe get the twins in next week. Apparently they’re also hooked up with a school so JJ can go to school with some other American kids too instead of being stuck behind a screen here all day.”

“That’s great news. She can make some new friends that way. You know I was thinking maybe she could get signed up for indoor soccer. When I played the new season normally started right at the beginning of February.”

“Is it safe?” he asked. “I thought that could get pretty dangerous.”

“Adult leagues can be but kids her age it’s just running back and forth mostly. She could make some new friends, give her something fun to look forward to.”

“It’s not a bad idea. I would like her to be involved in something since she’s out of dance and soccer back home right now. I’ll talk it over with her in the morning,” he said. “She say something to you about it?”

“No. I just know what it’s like to be the new kid,” you said. “Soccer helped me make friends at school.”

“You and your mom move after your dad passed?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was little so I don’t remember so much,” you said, an email coming in that your spot in the class was reserved. “Alright. Looks like I’m all set for eight on Saturday.”

“I’ll try not to keep you out too late on Friday night then,” he said.

“I never said that.”

“I like flirty you,” he said, both of you looking up at the ceiling when you heard a loud pair of giggles. “Duty calls. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#spn #supernatural #Jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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