#gotta get home in time for dinner. which my wife is making. while she changes the baby. and does the laundry. and mops the floor. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myckicade · 3 years ago

Text

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c.#coco x reader #coco x you #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #johnny coco cruz #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic

219 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years ago

Text

Yes, Mr. Moreno

Summary: With Missy moving out of the house to go to college Marcus felt more alone than ever before. When he met his daughters college roommate at a diner in the middle of the night he made a decision Missy could never find out about.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Alice Baker (OFC)

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, big age gap (20ish years; legal though), some sexual tension, a little dirty talk

A/N: I'd like to thank @ladyreapermc for letting me steal her idea. Marcus is probably a little OOC in this but I don't really care. More to come in the future. This is my entry for this weeks Writer Wednesday @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape

Masterlist

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified when I post a new

Looking the clock Marcus sighed. Just after 2 am.

He was hungry.

Pancakes technically could be early breakfast. Or a very late Dinner. He sighed again, letting his eyes wander through the almost empty diner.

He was getting too old for this.

Too old for emergencies from outer space.

Too old for still having to pick up the slack because the Heroics couldn’t find a new leader.

Too old to be sitting alone in a diner in the middle of the night.

Marcus was lonely, he knew that.

He looked down at his hand, to his finger were all these years ago a wedding band was his most trusted possession. He had taken it off a long time ago, yet he still felt married in his mind. He probably always would, even though it had now almost been 15 years since his wife died.

With Missy being gone for college, even though it was in the same city, his house felt empty with his daughter living on the campus. And he was happy for her, but on nights like these he wished she would still be his little girl who sneaked into his bed on Sunday morning to cuddle, just to fall asleep again.

“What can I get you?” he looked up, looking into the tired face of Marissa. She had been working here for as long as he could remember.

“Usual. Maybe some strawberries if you have some,” he nodded, forcing himself to smile at least a little bit. The eyes of the older woman frowned slightly and he could see the questions forming in her mind.

“Of course honey,” she said softly instead before she turned around to give his order to the kitchen.

After the food he would go home, take a long hot shower and then get to bed, not leaving it until he had go back to work in two days. Missy would be gone by now, a weekend trip with her boyfriend. He still shuddered thinking about Missy, his little girl, dating. He liked Josh, he really did. But fuck the thought of his daughter dating just made him realize how much time had gone by since his wife died. Missy had been so nervous before her first date with Josh, telling Marcus all about it who, against his urge to lock her into her old bedroom, had told her that feeling nervous was totally normal before a date. Hell, even years after he had married her mom he had been still nervous every time they had date night. He missed this. Having someone to go on a date with.

Marcus was no saint. Of course there had been some women in the last years, but none of them interesting enough to maybe build something more. He was getting old and lonely. And miserable.

God you’re pathetic Moreno, he groaned inwardly.

Someone sat down two seats next to him. He nodded his head without really looking as he waited for his food.

“Mr. Moreno?” a woman asked. Please, please don’t be a fan. He breathed in deep before he turned his head. He frowned a little, trying to remember where he had seen the young woman before. She smiled tiredly, a little shy at him. Her long dark hair in a high ponytail that looked a little loose, her green eyes blinking as if she had to fight the urge to hold them open.

“Alice?” he asked, she nodded. Missy’s roommate. That’s where he knew her from.

“What are you doing here this late?” he asked, she sighed, rubbing her eyes.

“Just got off my… second job? I work at the bar just down the road.”

“Second job?” he asked. She nodded, her hands disappearing in her big hoodie.

“Gotta get through college somehow. And with no scholarship and no parents I have to pick up extra shifts,” she answered before she turned to order herself something.

He had only met her a couple times. When he helped Missy move in, once or twice when he picked her up for Sunday dinner, which they still had every single week. Alice was a beautiful young woman. And if what Missy was telling him was still correct, a good friend of his daughter too. She looked at him again.

“And what are you doing here this late, Mr. Moreno?” she asked, turning in her seat so she was facing him. She crossed her legs as she leaned back in her seat. And Marcus found himself thinking that even in some old jeans and a hoodie at least three sizes too big for her, she was looking more beautiful than he was allowed to be even thinking about it.

Get a grip Moreno.

“Mr. Moreno?” she asked and Marcus blinked.

“Sorry. There was an emergency at HQ and I only got out an hour ago.”

She nodded.

“And you thought you had some late dinner before going back home?” she asked with a little smile.

“Early breakfast,” he winked and she laughed tiredly, her whole face lighting up.

Half an hour later Marcus had changed to sit in the seat next to Alice as they talked. He learned that she moved here from across the country after getting into the programme she had applied for, not really thinking she would get it. He learned that all she had as family was her mother she hadn’t talked to in almost 4 years, that she loved watching old movies and that she hoped to one day live in a little house at a beach. Any beach. Just close to the ocean.

And Marcus found out that the way she said Mr. Moreno every time she addressed him was making it hard for him to think clearly.

“You know it’s kind of surreal sitting here with you,” she said.

He raised his eyebrow.

“Why is that?” he asked, his head resting on his hand. She smiled shyly, sucking her bottom lip in. God fucking…

“Because growing up I used to have the biggest crush on you,” she admitted and Marcus groaned inwardly.

“Really? Me? When there were all these other Hero’s around?” he asked.

“Yeah. Even had a poster of you in my bedroom,” she shook her head, smiling to herself.

“That’s kinda cute,” he found himself saying and she looked at him. Her eyes big, her lips slightly parted.

Marcus was fighting a battle inside of him he knew he would lose. She was young. 22 years old, he learned that while they talked. She was Missy’s friend, still in college, yet all he could think about was how it would sound if she was moaning his name while he had her pinned against the mattress of his king sized bed while he made her cum undone on his tongue.

“Mr. Moreno…” she whispered and Marcus cocked his head to the side as he kept looking at her. He saw her eyes focusing on his lips before she looked into his eyes again.

“Alice…” he breathed leaning in closer, inhaling her scent.

“Yes, Mr. Moreno?” she whispered and this time he felt his cock twitch.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I… I kissed boys before, but there was no one I really… That I really wanted…”

“To fuck?” he said and she blushed, nodding shyly.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Marissa walking towards them and he slid his credit card over the counter.

“All on me, and give yourself a generous tip,” he said and she nodded at him. He waited until the bill was paid, sliding his credit card back into his pocket, when he looked at Alice again.

This was a bad idea. Probably the worst he had ever had. But he felt it. The fluttering of nerves inside of him, he hadn’t felt in years every time he looked at Alice. Missy could never find out about this. He had to make sure of it. He got off his seat, straightening his shirt.

“Do you want to come home with me?” he asked her. He saw her swallow before she got out of her seat, sucking that damn bottom lip in again with a small smile.

“Yes, Mr. Moreno.”

#my writing #writer wednesday #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x ofc #pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

167 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 3 years ago

Text

Together

Ethan Winters x reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: violence, cuss words, spoilers for re7,

Author’s Note: I changed up the ending of the request a tad I hope you don’t mind. I hope you enjoy! I love writing for Ethan so this was a pleasure.

Requested: by @drinksomecoco, So I’ve just had these two fic ideas floating around that I wasn’t able to commit to. For Resi7, the idea is that the reader is someone Lucas had kidnapped and trapped in his weird saw games. They managed to escape while Lucas was distracted with family things and had found their way into the main house right before Ethan escaped his first family dinner, so they end up with him through the whole sordid affair. After everything is over, Ethan now has to choose between his wife, who he now knows lied to him their whole relationship, or the reader, who admitted at some point that they didn’t have much of a home to go to. Obviously wouldn’t expect anyone to rewrite the whole game’s plot, maybe more reflection while they recover and Ethan has to make his choice

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

When you woke up your head was throbbing. You felt like you hadn’t known a moment's peace in days. You should have known, you kept telling yourself. You should have known that going this far out into the wilderness would only bring bad things.

A whole family of bad things.

Lucas was the one who found you out wandering by yourself. Honestly, you wished it was anyone else. He was a sadist and he kept putting you in these sick games. You had beaten him so far but you weren’t sure how much longer you could take.

You sat up in the cold empty stone room and rubbed your head. You looked around. There was a single bulb light above your head, illuminating the room. You walked up to the door and grabbed onto the door handle, not expecting it to work.

To your surprise, the handle turned, opening the door up. You stood there for a moment in awe. You had tried that every time you woke up but it had never worked. You had to be careful. There was a possibility it was all part of Lucas’s games. You took a step forward and looked around warily.

Nothing and no one in sight. He must have just made a fatal mistake. Your breath picked up as you started to walk around his little hellscape. It was a winding place, filled with twists, turns and trip wires. You wanted to run but had to make sure you kept your pace. You couldn’t move too fast with the traps littered around.

You took a deep breath as you opened another door and stumbled outside. You wanted to cry from relief. Air. Outside air. You looked around eagerly, making sure you didn’t see anyone else. It was dark outside. There was a trailer and then a large house to your right. You weren’t sure if you would be able to get away if you didn’t go through the house. Everything else looked pretty fenced in.

You went into the trailer and was pleased to find a gun and some ammo in there. You loaded the gun, thankful for the shooting classes you had taken years ago. You put the gun safely in your belt loop and carefully approached the house. You opened up the door a bit and glanced inside the large room.

You took a deep breath as you stepped inside. It was a large room with two staircases on either side of the room. You took in your surroundings. Just had to find a way to the other side of this house. That was all you had to do. The task didn’t seem so daunting when you put it that way.

Suddenly the door on the same floor you were on opened carefully. You took out your gun and held it up as a man opened the door and shut it carefully behind him. He had nicely cut dirty brown hair and he was wearing a green jacket that was covered in black and red liquids.

He turned around and noticed you which caused him to raise his own gun.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice shaking.

“Who are you?” He walked up to you, gun not wavering.

“Answer my question.”

“I...are you part of the family?”

“No. Are you?” You shook your head. You both kept your weapons up though, noticeably untrustworthy.

“I’m Y/N. I was trying to find a nice place out here in the wilderness to take some pictures but Lucas found me and put me in his little hell of games,” you told him. “Who are you? How did you get here?” He thought about whether he was going to answer you and took a deep breath before lowering his gun. You lowered yours as well.

“My wife went missing three years ago. She sent me a message...I found her here. But she’s crazy she tried to kill me and then this fucking family tied me up to a chair and…” He showed you his hand which seemed to be stapled on. You scoffed.

“I can take a look at that if you want. I know a little bit about medical stuff,” you said warily. He nodded a bit.

“I have to get my wife.”

“I have to get out of here.”

“Me too. Eventually.” You nodded a bit. You put your gun in your waistband again and Ethan walked closer to you. He still didn’t entirely trust you but he liked you enough. “Your wifes a lucky girl,” you told him. He smiled a bit. There was some unspoken truth there. Ethan could help you and you could help him.

“You mind telling her that? She’s still trying to kill me.”

=====

You and Ethan walked over to the trailer to get some sort of peace. You couldn’t stay there long but it seemed like it was a place where they didn’t look often. Plus, there was only one door to monitor. He sat on the bed as you knelt in front of him. You were carefully examining his hand.

“The staples were a choice,” you muttered. He chuckled dryly.

“At least it’s back on,” he told you. You nodded and sat down on your knees.

“It looks like you’re able to use it well enough. Once we get out of here we’re gonna have to make sure you get it looked at further. Here’s some more meds if the hand starts hurting.”

“You’re a Godsend.” You gave him a kind smile and stood back up.

“Alright, now where’s your wife?”

“I found a video of her going out to the old house. I have to assume she’s somewhere out there but you know, it’s a working theory.” You nodded. “I talked to Zoe. She said there was a cure here, for Mia.”

“And I assume you’re going to find it?” “If I can.” You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Alright. We’ll probably find it when we go and deal with Marguerite.” He nodded back at you.

“That was what I was hoping for.”

“You dealt with the old man?” He nodded.

“Barely.” You cocked your gun.

“Perfect. Then let’s go give mom a taste of what we got.”

====

“This house is fucking disgusting,” you whispered. Ethan nodded as he crouched down beside a nest of some sort.

“I second that.” He stood up and you quickly moved with him. You were quiet, trying to gauge where on Earth Marguerite was. You kept yourself together as you ran into large bugs and places that made you need to backtrack and find other things.

As you walked through the house you eventually made it up to a small window.

“Ethan?” You turned around, met face to face with some woman you hadn’t seen before.

“Mia!” Ethan ran over and put his hands against the barrier between the two of them. You found yourself hiding a bit of jealousy but you had bigger problems.

“Hey Ethan!” Lucas yelled, grabbing Mia around the neck. Ethan started to shake the barrier. Lucas met your eyes as he pulled her away. “I’ll get you bitch. Just you wait!” You turned to Ethan as Lucas and Mia disappeared. He gave you a nervous look which you returned.

Eventually the two of you made it out to some sort of greenhouse where Marguerite was waiting. She transformed herself into a disgusting, drooping and dangerous form.

Ethan handed you one of his two shotguns which you took with care. You raised it up to where her most vulnerable place was and shot.

Ethen came at her from your side. When your gun got knocked down Ethan put himself between you and your foe. He put his hand on your hip, turning you so you were effectively behind him as he shot his handgun. Together you were able to take her down, after much effort. As she fell and died you suddenly realized how exhausted and in pain you were.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked, more worried then he thought he was. You nodded a bit and used his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Just a little woozy. We gotta move on.” He nodded and grabbed your other arm, holstering his gun.

“You’re gonna pass out.” You shook your head.

“I am not.” He gave you a look. “You know Ethan Winters, you’re kind of a badass. I would be scared if you were pointing a gun at me.”

“I already did.”

“And I was scared,” you joked weakly. He scoffed and put your arm over his shoulder.

“Let’s get to the trailer and give you a minute before we hit Lucas with all that we got,” he muttered. You nodded.

“That motherfucker doesn’t know what's coming,” you whispered.

“Yeah, a guy with one hand and a girl who’s about to pass out. He’s gonna tremble in fear.”

“Hey now, don’t you underestimate us. We’ve made it this far. Just gotta get him, get your wife and get the fuck out of here.” He didn’t get the same pleasant feeling when he thought of Mia. He decided not to bring it up or dwell on it.

“Alright. I believe you.” ===

Ethan sat on the bed beside you. You were resting for a moment. You promised him only five minutes and he watched the door. He didn’t mind much. You fell into sleep easily, clearly exhausted. He grabbed your hand and held it for comfort.

Your face was so peaceful when you were asleep.

“Ethan,” you whispered, eyes still shut.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“We have to keep moving,” you told him as you squeezed his hand groggily.

“If you pass out Lucas will kill you.”

“Yeah? You would let that happen?” He scoffed. Ethan realized suddenly, he wouldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t get hurt. He chastised his own thoughts, looking down at his ring finger but he couldn’t see it. You were holding his hand and blocking the view.

“Not if I can help it.”

=====

Lucas paid special attention to you. He wanted to make sure you suffered for getting out and killing his parents. You and Ethan were forced to play his little game.

You and Ethan stood together in a locked couple of rooms. He grabbed your arm before you could walk too far into the room.

“Y/N-”

“This is just like the ones he kept me in. I saw the footage of someone else doing this, I know how to do it,” you whispered to him. He watched your eyes. He was sweating and exhausted. He was relieved to hear that you knew what you were doing.

“Go on then.”

You were able to work through that puzzle which did piss Lucas off but you were already gone before he could complain anymore. Now you had the serum and you had both made it out alive.

You found Mia after an aggressive amount of fighting with the Bakers. The more you saw of this family the less you were surprised by the sight. She was stumbling and scared but at the sight of Ethan her face lit up .

“Ethan?! Ethan!” she called, throwing her arms around her. He held her wordlessly for a moment as he dragged her quickly to the boat you and Ethan had found.

“We have a serum, to cure you,” you told her. She gave you a scared look.

“Who are you?”

“She’s a friend,” Ethan said. You held each other's gaze for a moment and gave her a kind smile. “I didn’t see Zoe. Did you find her?” he asked Mia. She shook her head.

“I haven’t seen Zoe in ages. We need to get out of here. We can’t dwell,” she told you both.

“She helped me get this serum.”

“Yeah and that’s much appreciated. But we have to leave,” she said. “We can come back later.” You eyed Ethan. He looked over at you for permission and you shrugged.

“She helped us get this. It seems stupid to leave her.”

Mia was trembling, worried about the escape. You all were. It was right then that Zoe emerged from the darkness.

“Zoe!” Ethan called. She ran over.

“You got the serum?” You gave her a curt look and then had to turn away.

“We..we only have one,” Ethan said. He was holding the only one there. You had to use the other one fighting Jack. You looked away from Mia as she noticed that he was going to have to make a choice.

“Well then you’ll have to choose one of us to give it to,” Zoe said evenly. Mia looked over at him and Ethan just looked at you. You shrugged from behind Mia.

“It’s up to you Ethan.” You could practically see his gears turning in his head. On one hand, Mia was his wife. He came here for her. But on the other hand...Zoe could help them get out. They could try and replicate the serum if they were able to leave sooner.

He grabbed Zoe’s arm and stuck the needle in. Mia gasped, shocked.

“I’m sorry. I truly am. Zoe will be able to guide us to safety,” he told her. You stepped into the boat, helping Zoe inside beside you.

“I’m staying here,” Mia said, disgusted.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ethan countered. “My place is here. With her,” she told him. You watched as Ethan got into the boat in front of you.

“We’ll come back for you,” he promised. Mia’s face was shrouded by the dark shadows as the boat went down the river.

=====

Eventually you came up to a much larger boat. You ended up on the boat, where Eveline was. You had known about Eveline, only through Lucas’s complaints about her. You didn’t realize she was a child or that she was like the way she was. When Eveline realized that Mia might not want to be her mother, she wondered if you would be a candidate.

She knocked you and Ethan out.

You woke up with a start. Your head hasn't stopped hurting since the last time you woke up. Now you had no idea where you were. You stood up shakily. Eveline hadn’t taken your weapons.

“Ethan?! Zoe?!” you called out but there was no response. You looked around at the dark and grimy metal of the boat. You pulled out your gun. “Ethan?!” you called again, hoping that he would answer. Nothing.

You had to start walking around to find them. Your feet started to get wet from the damp atmosphere but you could barely notice. You ran into different mold monsters but were able to keep them down enough for you to pass.

You felt like you had walked for almost an hour before you saw Ethan. He ran into you, breath heaving, gun out.

“Fuck, I almost shot you!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Zoe?”

“She’s dead! Mia!” You furrowed your eyebrows and then saw that Mia was chasing him down with a weapon. Your eyes went wide. The shots you figured at her merely slowed her down.

“Run!” you told him and both of you started to book it away.

“We need to find Eveline!” he told you as you ran.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know! But we need to find her!” You nodded, taking a sharp turn.

“Lead the way!”

====

You had to watch Ethan kill his wife. You watched him as his love for her was broken down to pieces as he shot her. You helped obviously. But he fired the last shot, as she asked him why he had chosen Zoe over her. Even you felt your heart clench up a bit and you didn’t love her like Ethan had.

“Mia,” he whispered as she crystallized and then dissipated. “Why?” You walked up to him and put a hand on his back. He turned to you and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You held him there for a moment and then pulled away. You put your hand on his cheek gingerly.

“We have to keep going. We have to find her.” Ethan nodded and backed away to reload his gun. His face glossed over with grief and rage.

“Let’s go.”

=====

The last fight with Eveline was dirty. You had to get the shot into her and it happened but not after she erupted into screams. She looked like she was just a child. How could just a child do all of the chaos she did?

As your back landed harshly on the ground after being shot out of the house, you felt relief. Relief and pain. You could see the sun rising. For a moment you just laid in the grass as your ears rang.

Then Ethan turned to grab your hand. You turned your head to look at him. His face was dirty and tired. You would probably both sleep for a week after this ordeal. Your hearing came back and you could hear him try and talk to you over the sound of helicopter propellers.

“What?!” you called, probably far more loudly than you intended.

“Are you okay!?” he screamed. You nodded quickly.

“Are you?!” He nodded back.

“Ethan Winters and Y/N Y/L/N?!” You both looked up to see a large man standing over you. You sat up and he held out his hand for both of you to take.

“Yes?!” Ethan called.

“I’m Redfield. I’m glad we found you.”

Chris and his team helped the two of you into a chopper. You sat next to each other as it lifted off. You saw Ethan pull out his phone, miraculously uncracked. A video of Mia was playing on it.

“She lied to me the entire time we were married,” he told you quietly.

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.” He gave the phone one last look and took a deep breath before tossing it out of the helicopter.

“You could have just deleted the video,” you told him, laughing dryly. He scoffed and nudged you.

“Now is not the time,” he said but his voice was miraculously light hearted.

“You’re right. I am sorry though. Once we have a two day long nap we’ll talk more about it.” “Where are you going? After we get back.” You shrugged.

“I don’t have much of a place to get back to honestly. I guess we’ll just see where the wind takes me.”

“Isn’t that how you ended up here?” You nodded sheepishly. He looked down at the house for a long moment before looking back at you. “Stay with me. We can help each other get out of this rut. You can monitor my stapled on hand.” You smiled, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You sure?”

“I have room for one more now. I’d like it to be you.” You grabbed his hand tightly. He squeezed your knuckles, looking you in the eye.

“Alright,” you breathed. He nodded.

The two of you fell asleep in the helicopter not long after that, leaning on each other for support. You would heal, over time. Together.

Re8 Part 2

#ethan winters x reader #ethan winters imagines #resident evil imagines

185 notes · View notes

nevenabadr · 3 years ago

Text

It's a Twin Thing: Part 1. Bucky Barnes & Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader

Note: English is not my first language or Romanian. Also, this was written in a hurry as I was babysitting.

Y/A: your name

The story is in second-person, thus, the reader is the main character.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

My Sebastian Stan’s fan chats on WhatsApp; we support Supernatural too, that’s why the Winchester are mentioned.

Word count: 2568

Warnings: Smut–this is +21 and not for everyone.

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback, please. 🖤…

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

It was a hot summer's day when you came home early to surprise your boyfriend, who is finally off from his duties as an actor and having a little time off for a holiday. You and Sebbie, your boyfriend of a year, now decided to stay in New York, as he missed being in his favourite place on earth.

You were early, holding lots of bags that were blocking your sight to the door. All worth it, because you will be able to cook him a homemade meal and show him that new lingerie you have got. If he forgot, you will remind him where home is.

You put everything down and took off your shoes; you started unbuttoning your blouse and taking off your pants. You were eager to take a shower and start cook for him.

You opened the bathroom door, and he was standing there fixing his hair in front of the mirror, yet he turned to face you. Before he spills a word.

You muttered, "Hey, I did not know you will be early."

You narrowed the gap between the two of you and taking his lips to meet yours in an intense kiss.

You missed him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, making the kiss sensual and he had no problem putting his hands on the curves of your waist pulling you closer to him.

When you broke the kiss, you took a moment to look into his eyes “Bebelus, there is something different about you."

He was blushing and puzzled "Yes!" He sighed, "you have mistaken me for Seabase, did not you."

You jumped a step forward in panic "James? Oh, my God! I am so sorry."

You were trying to cover your body and confusion took over you.

"But you kissed me back." You were angry that almost slapped him, but he dodged your hand.

"Easy doll, I am sorry?" He came off guilty.

"I heard things about you. I did not know you would be your e." You spoke while your eyes gazed upon the floor.

"My plane arrived this morning. I am so sorry that Seabass did not tell you." He kept fixing his hair, which is identical to Sebastian.

"We got on the wrong foot your e, but can you please give me a moment?" You pointed at your body as you were wearing nothing but your undergarments.

"Oh! I will be outside." He shut the door behind him as he left.

You turned on the water and let it run, washing away your impressment.

James is Sebastian's identical twin. James Buchanan Barns and Sebastian Stan Barnes. Stan was Sebastian's middle name, something related to his mother's Romanian roots.

James has a military classified job, while his brother made a career for himself in acting.

Not even their mother could tell them apart, except that Sebastian is a dork and James, as they call him Bucky, is an easy-going ladies-man.

When you finished showing and dressing up. The sound from the kitchen seemed as if your boyfriend was having a loud conversation with himself.

They even sound identical, you thought to yourself, gathered your strength and stepped into the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," you waved for both of them.

"Oh, baby! Bucky told me about the incident" the twin with jogging clothes came and wrapped his arms around you.

You almost stopped him "Sebbie, baby, is that you?"

Yes, Y/N." He kissed your forehead and then your lips.

"I am so sorry, that I forgot to mention that Bucky was coming." He soothed you with another sweet kiss.

"We were not introduced properly," Bucky said playfully

"This is Y/A, my girlfriend and lady of the house." He said, then pointed at Bucky, "this is the famous, James Buchanan, Bucky, my mysterious brother."

"Seabase told poems of you. I am sorry that we have that incident," he implied the earlier kiss.

"No, worries" you am smiled and extend a hand "Welcome to our home, Bucky" he took your hand and smiled calmly.

At the dinner table, Sebastian and Bucky were laughing and catching up. You were calm and just appreciating the home-cooked dinner by Bucky.

"You are talented at cooking." You were enjoying the cuisine.

"I, the chief, and Seabase were the tidy one." He looked at his brother, "we are a team of cooking and cleaning."

Except that, I don't cook," Sebastian said joked

“Bucky, you know it is today?” Sebastien was busy eating.

Bucky was stunned “a family and friends gathering!” “You are going to see the gang.” Sebastien was rather excited about this more than anything you have seen before.

Georgeta Orlovschi, or as her official name now, Georgetta Stan was a lovely woman, a Romanian immigrant who fell in love with an American to a marriage that brought the best thing in her to the world, the twins; James and Sebastian.

As a violinist and part of the New York Opera House, she met their father, Mr William Barnes, a well-known handsome conductor who made her world perfect.

The world was perfect until she had to change diapers and stay up with William by her side.

William was of a well-known wealthy family, but Mrs Barnes was an Eastern European woman. She wanted to have deities by herself and not to have servants to do all the work.

Her friend Mary Winchester, the wife of William's closest friend, John — was the nicest woman you can meet, a Taxes woman. Mary was like Mrs Barnes. She did not like servants to do the job; she took upon duties of her firstborn, Dean, and later she had Sam, a few years before the Twins.

The boys grow up together.

Dean took the eldest brother's duties to the bone. Even when the new kid, Steve Rogers, became best friends with Bucky; he took him under his wing.

The gang, no one could touch his brother or their friends.

Soon after they entered Middle School and Dean was a senior, Steve got into a fight. Dean came close to the boys to find Bucky just leaving his book aside and taking the ground by his friend.

Sebastian was the one in front of both. No one hurt Steve.

Sam hurried to Dean for safety. Dean arrived and tried to calm everyone down "Steve said he was sorry." He smirked at the boy, who was angry and demanded to bully Steve.

While Sebastian and Sam were trying to hold Steve back, "I can do this all day."

Bucky did not give anyone else a chance to speak as he bunched the bully right in the nose, which got everyone in trouble, which Dean wanted to take the responsibility for. Detention and forever to be recorded in his file.

Dean Winchester did not care for his record, just the young boys to be well.

But finally, the boys came clean to their father; Bucky was homeschooled for the rest of the year and Sebastian refused to go back to school until his brother joined him back.

They were all a mischievous gang with Dean Winchester as the head.

Days passed, and each got into their ways; Dean with Harvard school as his father pulled a connection to forget the file problem. Dean was already qualified enough.

Sam went to Stanford, Bucky and Steve picked a military life, and Sebastian was all about acting.

It was his first time alone overseas, the Shakespeare's Globe yet had another surprise for him, a friend; Anthony Mackie, an American talent who became Sebastian's best friend.

The gang was getting bigger and louder.

Mrs Barnes had the entire gang and their families for a gathering. James, Bucky, as he liked to be called, is finally back after an entire year in God-knows-what military work.

After dinner, the gang was laughing and drinking.

Dean smirked at Sebastian "You got a good girl over here."

"A great kisser too." Bucky teased.

"What do you have in mind, Dean?" Sam teased Dean because he knows what he will spill next.

"You gotta do the twin thing." Dean raised his bottle of beer.

Steve's eyes widened "what twin thing, exactly"

"My man, Dean wants Seabase to go wild." Anthony laughed at the idea.

Dean explained, "a sandwich with her in the middle and the outer layers are twins."

Sam tried to elaborate "if the middle was a girl unless other preferences and so."

Steve was blushing at the idea while Bucky and Sebastian were looking at each other.

"Don't scrunch your nose" Sebastian looked at Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head and give him the puppy eyes "adventures, please."

Then Dean joined him for bagging "please."

"Alright, Alright." Sebastian took a sip of his beer "only with consent.

At that moment Anthony gives Dean ten "You won."

Steve was just irritated at the idea and he kept eyeing his bottle "I can't believe you, guys"

"Dean always wins," Sam shrugged.

You were heading closer to the boys, who were laughing.

"Are not we going home?" You asked Sebastian.

"Yes, babe."

He excused the gang and Bucky followed with the boys waving and clapping.

"They seem happy and excited. Are not they." You waved at them while speaking to Sebastian, but the reply came from Bucky "they should be. And hopefully, will be,"

Back in the car, Sebastian hesitated, but he told you why they were laughing.

“Dean wants you to try what?” You were completely shocked.

“The twin-thing.” Bucky sounded excited.

Sebastian took your hand in his, “baby, it’s a silly boys’ bet.”

You looked at him, “are you going to let Dean win?” and you smirked.

Bucky explained the rules. It has to be a sex sandwich with both of them, but no sex while they are in their mum's house.

“God only knows how she might react to this.” Sebastiana sighed.

Bucky laughed and explained, “an eastern European woman, she might get them a priest to perform an exorcism on us.”

“Or sanctify the house.” Sebastien completed his twin’s explanation.

They agreed Bucky will stay at Sebastian’s house for the night until they plan the twins’ thing.

The next morning, after you all had eaten breakfast together, you were cleaning the table. You will keep bumping into Bucky.

His torso to your back, kissing the exposed parts of your skin. You titled your head on your back to give him room.

His hands will travel under your clothes. His girl was wearing nothing but your skill PJ of pair of shorts and a top.

Dean's words have got straight to Bucky’s head, that he has been imagining having the twin-thing with his brother’s girlfriend.

Bucky reached the kitchen, and he almost dropped the plates.

His brother was kissing Y/N, who closed his eyes completely as Sebastian was squeezing your butt with a hand and they together are caressing your nipple about the silk.

You moaned; Bucky felt himself getting hard.

Yet, you felt Sebastian's hard length against your butt. You turned to kiss him with parted lips, looking to consume him.

Their tongue met and the sounds of their kissing made Bucky, who was at the edge and impulsively tried to hide his aroused length.

Sebastian opened his eyes as he parted from the kiss. Y/A twirled to meet Bucky's eyes and peeking at his lower body.

"Poor Bucky." You stepped closer to him, you kissed him first, yet he opened his eyes, waiting for Sebastian's approval, who gave him a wave to go ahead.

You kissed Bucky and slides your hand to stock his length above the sweat pants he was wearing.

Bucky moaned against your lips and wrapped his arms around you for a moment to deepen the kiss.

At that same time, Sebastian paced to lay kisses on your shoulder and squeeze your butt.

You started moaning, parted from Bucky, to meet Sebastian at a kiss

"Better take it to the bedroom." You said in between your moaning and breath.

You walked with the twin brothers to the bedroom, yet could not take off their hands off your body.

In the bedroom, Sebastian pulled down your shorts, and Bucky took off your top.

"Bucky, you are beautiful, Y/A," he said as he keeps kissing the soft spot under your ears and lowers down your breast.

"You better underdress to boys," you ordered and both of them took off their clothes at once.

Before starting anything, Bucky looked at Sebastien, who understood his brother immediately.

“Second drawer in the nightstand near his bed.” Sebastian pointed to Bucky, who was full of condoms, lubricant, and some toys.

You twirled around Bucky for a moment "nothing I have not seen before" you

Ran your fingers on his skin till touching his length and teasing his slit that was dripping pre-cum.

Yet, before Bucky put the condom on his length, you got down and tasted him, “tasty,” you whipped your lips and helped him to wear the condom

Then moved to Sebastian and kissed him "oh, that chest is getting rough again." You kissed his lips and lower to his jaw and neck.

Then you winked at Sebastian playfully to drop on four to take his full length between your lips.

You sucked him slowly. Bucky was watching your butt against him and your inviting lady delicate area was pumping with a need that he could not keep himself from entering you all at once.

You clenched him inside you, milking him and you were bobbing your head, milking Sebastian with your mouth as squeezing his balls.

Sebastian gripped your hair and Bucky put his hands on your hips, entering you, as you were getting tighter and closer.

"I am closed," Sebastian muttered breathlessly as he came inside your mouth. You swallowed him whole.

On the other hand, Bucky was close, Sebastian took a step back to let you rest on four, you were moaning and Bucky banging himself harder against you. The voice of their skin clashing and moaning were loud that the rest Sebastian was getting harder again.

Bucky wanted you closer to him, he pulled you up and rested your head on his chest and squeezed your breasts "cum for me now doll," he ordered as biting the side of your neck and squeezing your breasts and you were so tight that Sebastian came close and stocked your clitoris to give you more pleasure. You were standing between the skin of the two brothers.

With almost shut eyes, looking at Sebastian who was stocking your clitoris, then he kissed you down till his tongue reached your soft part. After two strokes with his tongue on your clitoris. You were so tight around Bucky that he could not see in front of him as he cum hard at the same time you felt the shaking electric power of your orgasm.

You were about to collapse that Sebastian carried you to the bed. You laid together between the two brothers.

"That was wow," Bucky muttered breathlessly.

Sebastian asserted playfully, "round two"

"Maybe later tonight?" You rolled and kissed Sebastian.

The three of you were laughing and Bucky closed his eyes to rest.

You put a leg on Sebastian's tights, getting closer to his body, feeling Bucky's chest hugging you from behind.

The head of their bodies calmed that the three of you slept in harmony.

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

My tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@fallloverfanfiction

99 notes · View notes

nineteenninety-six · 4 years ago

Text

Stray in the Street

TOMMY SHELBY X READER

2.3K Words

She found him unconscious in the street and even though she knew she shouldn’t, she dragged him into her house. It was pouring down with rain and if she left him out there on the street in the rain, she doubted he’d be alive in the morning.

While he wasn’t as heavy as she thought he would be, it was still a hassle to pull him up and drag him to her house. At first, she had thought he was drunk and had collapsed into the street as that wasn’t uncommon for her street but it was until she had dragged him in front of her fireplace and turned the lights of her front room on did she realise that he was far from a drunk.

He had cuts and bruises littered on his face and hands and (Y/N) would bet that there was more underneath his shirt. She left the stranger by the fireplace in hopes that it would dry him off and keep him warm as she collected her first aid kit, a bowl of water and a clean rag, she didn’t know much first aid but she knew enough to clean the cuts out and bandage them.

She didn’t know what to think of the man as she cleaned and disinfected his cuts, he looked vulnerable as he laid unconscious with his head on her lap and (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder what he had gotten into that had left him like that. Maybe he had some unpaid debts or perhaps slept with the wife of a rich and important man but whatever it was, it must have been serious.

(Y/N) was exhausted, she had been up early and had been working all day so all she wanted to do was sleep but she couldn’t with the stranger in her house. He could wake up in a panic, having no clue where the hell he was and she would have to explain but despite all that, she couldn’t resist the pull of sleep and fell asleep on her couch.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) shot up with a gasp and her eyes immediately went to the space in front of the fireplace but it was empty. As she stood up as she tried to listen to see if he was still in the house she felt something fall off her and when she looked down she saw a blanket pooled around her feet, something she most definitely did not fall asleep with.

She bent down to pick it up when she heard shuffling in the kitchen and the blanket was quickly thrown aside in pursuit of the noise. She made her way towards the kitchen with quiet steps and peered around the corner and spotted the stranger at her kitchen table, yesterday's paper in hand with the glass of water beside him. There didn’t seem to be anything nefarious going on with the man so she walked into the kitchen, announcing herself to him.

“I’m surprised to see you up”

Dawn was breaking and (Y/N) could see blues and purples starting to appear in the sky which meant she was asleep for around four hours.

The man flinched in surprise and looked up at her and the first thing (Y/N) noticed was his blue eyes.

“You were asleep when I woke up” The man folded the newspaper up and placed it on the table and (Y/N) could see the way his body flinched in pain whenever he moved beyond his bounds.

“You could have woke me up. You had no issue placing a blanket on me” (Y/N) didn’t know how she was so calm now that the stranger was awake.

“The fire had gone out, you looked cold”

(Y/N) smiled at that before she walked further into the kitchen, “I’ll make us some tea. Are you hungry?”

The man shook his head but (Y/N) was going to make toast for him anyway.

With the toast and the tea on the table, (Y/N) took a seat opposite the man who returned to reading the newspaper, she watched him for a bit before she spoke to him, wanting to know more information.

“You know that’s yesterday’s paper right?” She started off with a soft conversation opener

The man looked at her and shrugged, “I was busy yesterday”

(Y/N) let her eyes run over his cuts and bruises, “I could tell”

The man placed the newspaper down and faced her fully before he asked the question that had been weighing on him since he woke up “Why did you take me in?”

“I thought you were some drunk at first and usually I would have left you there but it was raining and stumbling across a dead body on my way to work isn’t my favourite way to start the day.” (Y/N) told him, “I brought you in and then I saw your cuts so I cleaned them and patched them up”

The man fingered the bandage around his right hand and nodded his thanks towards (Y/N).

“Are you going to tell me how you become unconscious and dumped on the street?”

The mans face instantly screwed up at her question and (Y/N) quickly corrected herself,

“-Or not. You can keep your secrets”

They remained in silence after that, drinking their tea but it didn’t escape (Y/N)’s notice that the man ate the toast she had laid out.

When the clock struck eight, (Y/N) pushed herself away from the table and stood up,

“Look, I’ve got to get ready for work but you’re free to stay here if you want but please don’t burn my house down”

With that (Y/N) disappeared upstairs to get ready for the day and the only reason she had a skip in her step after only having four hours of sleep was because it was Friday.

.•° ✿ °•.

When (Y/N) returned home from work, she expected the man to have left but she found him relaxing on her couch like he owned it, though this time with a glass of whiskey and today’s newspaper, which meant he had definitely gone to the shops.

“You haven’t gone home?”

“You said I could stay”

“I did” (Y/N) sat down next to him, “Though I would appreciate if I knew the name of my stray”

The man’s lips twitched at her nickname for him before he stuck his hand out, “Tommy. Tommy Shelby”

(Y/N) shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m (Y/N).”

(Y/N) sunk into the couch with a tired huff, her long hours were not worth it but she couldn’t pay the bills otherwise.

“Do you know how to cook, Tommy?”

Tommy looked at her from the corner of his eye and shook his head, “I don’t but I know who can”

“Will they be able to cook for me?” (Y/N) was too tired to even make herself a sandwich

“I’m sure they’ll have no problem but first I need a phone and a car”

“I’ve got a phone but I can’t help you with a car”

“That’s fine” Tommy stood up and stretched, “Where are we? Is Small Heath nearby?”

“Small Heath? Yeah, it’s the next town over, maybe a fifteen-minute walk”

“Good, I’ve got a couple of phone calls to make. Where’s your phone?”

(Y/N) pointed at the kitchen and Tommy disappeared. She had no clue where he was going to take her nor what the relevance of Small Heath was but the man interested her and she was keen to find out more.

Tommy returned and raised his eyebrows at her, “You ready?”

“Yup!” (Y/N) jumped up from the couch and picked up her coat and handbag before she followed Tommy out of the house, “Where are we off too?”

“Small Heath first, gotta pick something up but then I’ll take you to where the food is”

(Y/N) nodded and followed him as he walked to Small Heath, the journey was quiet and short but (Y/N) wished she changed out of her heels because her feet were killing her.

When they arrived in Small Heath, Tommy strutted around like he owned the place and add the fact that everyone they walked by including police officers, nodded their head and called him ‘Mr Shelby’, (Y/N) wondered if she was far off by that assumption.

She followed behind him as he made his way down a street called, ‘Watery Lane’ and stopped at the house with a car outside it. He spoke to the man leaning against the house and took a pair of keys from him and had a little conversation before the man retreated back into the house but not before he took a look at her.

Tommy held the keys up at her and motioned for her to get into the car,

“C’mon let’s get going”

(Y/N) cautiously made her way into the car, nervous as she has never ridden in one before but she didn’t want to dawdle and waste time.

“Who’s car is this?” (Y/N) asked as Tommy pulled away from the curb, “And where are we going?”

“Company car and we’re going to Warwickshire”

“Company car?”

“My company”

Now (Y/N) was all the more confused on why he ended up outside of her house. If he owned a company and cars then he couldn’t have been in debt, though it was still a very small possibility.

“Right…”

(Y/N) ended up falling asleep on the journey to wherever Tommy was taking her and was woken up when he gently shook her awake.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, your food is waiting” Tommy whispered as she woke up.

“Fucking hell!” (Y/N) couldn’t help herself when she saw the house in front of her, it was bigger than all the houses on her street put together.

Tommy was already out of the car and heading towards the door so (Y/N) quickly jumped out and followed him, quietly marvelling at the house. Tommy walked into the house and had only taken two steps when was ambushed by a maid.

“Mr Shelby! Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in two days and suddenly we get a call which only tells us to prepare some food” The maid is simultaneously exasperated and worried, “Look, you’ve got all these cuts and-”

“Mary, it’s fine. I’m fine” Tommy cuts her off, “You have no reason to worry”

“Don’t need to worry-” Mary scoffed before she noticed (Y/N) for the first time and a flush came up her neck, embarrassed at being seen that way by a stranger.

“The uh chefs have finished dinner, everything is waiting in the dining room” Mary’s eyes never left her feet.

“Thank you, Mary”

(Y/N) quickly thanked the maid as well before she followed Tommy.

“You have a maid?!”

“Several, actually”

(Y/N) gaped at the man and his wealth, she was rendered speechless by everything that man did.

Tommy pushed open the door to one of the rooms and gestured that she go first, so she did and she found a large table filled with plates of food she had only dreamed of having. They were all extravagant and high quality, something she could never have afforded.

“Take this as a thank you for everything you did”

“I didn’t ask for all of this, I would have been fine with a simple meal”

“You did something stupid, taking a stranger in from the street….but I am thankful for what you did.” Tommy looked shy as he said those words, “Me giving you dinner, is the least I could do to repay you.”

“Well, I’m not complaining” (Y/N) said as she took a seat and pulled the closest dish towards her.

“You did though” Tommy deadpanned.

(Y/N) held up her thumb and index finger and brought them together until there was only a small gap between them, and grinned up at Tommy, “Only slightly though.”

Tommy took a seat opposite her and continued small talk with (Y/N) as she ate the food in front of her. She was a curious woman, snarky yet kind and considerate and he liked her.

“What’s your job?” He asked once she finished.

“Accountant” (Y/N) scowled, “Long hours, underpaid and undervalued, it’s my dream job”

“How about you work for me?”

(Y/N) choked on the water she was drinking, “E-Excuse me?”

“Obviously, I need to see how you work and if you are suitable to work for the company but what do you say?”

“Are you just doing this because of yesterday?” (Y/N) was unsure of where this was coming from.

“You said you were underpaid and undervalued, you won’t be if you work for me”

“What exactly is it you do?” (Y/N) had been curious as to how he got his massive house.

“Shelby Company Limited is in the business of exportation. We export goods from Birmingham around the world, specifically car parts” Tommy drawled as if he was repeating a pitch for rich investors.

“Where’s the office, Small Heath?”

Tommy nodded, “What do you think?”

“What am I getting paid?”

Tommy gave a little smirk, “Above average, I assure you. Plus additional benefits.”

(Y/N) nodded after a moment and stuck her hand out, “You’ve got a deal”

Tommy took her hand and shook it once, as a confirmation of their agreement.

“I’ll pick you up on Monday and take you to the office where you can sign the paperwork.”

“Sounds good but speaking of, how am I supposed to get home tonight?”

Tommy looked at the clock in the room and was surprised at how late it was, “It’s late, you can stay the night, there’s plenty of guest rooms.”

“No shit”

Tommy ignored (Y/N)’s comment, “I’ll have a driver take you home tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“If you’re done here, Mary can show you to your room”

“Absolutely.”

As (Y/N) followed Mary upstairs, she realised she never found out why Tommy was left unconscious outside of her house.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #x reader #imagines #Peaky Blinders #anyway...#peaky blinders imagines

324 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

a year in the life | rockstar! s.s.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

main work: i wanna know what love is

season: autumn 🍁

a/n: in celebration of 4 major works of mine turning one this year (my babies, cannot believe it’s been a year) and based on the reboot of gilmore girls, i will be revisiting my works per season. we are starting with autumn and rockstar!seb. hope you enjoy xx

Y/N laid on the big chez lounge couch in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her children’s toys, with a large bowl of Doritos on her lap as the Real Housewives played on the background. For the very first time since forever, she was alone at home; Jess and Marion were at their respective schools while Sebastian was busy in the studio, doing some rearrangements to a new album. She loved the three of them more than anything but she knew that she would’ve never had the chance to eat Doritos without Sebastian complaining it was unhealthy for her or her children trying to take a bite. Lately, all she wants is to lay low, bask in her leave from work and watch some trashy TV.

As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier with sleep when the front door opened, sending her back into alert mood. Luckily, it wasn’t no one trying to break in but her husband who still couldn’t open doors without making a big ruckus about it.

- I’m sorry, bunny. - he stepped back as he recognised his wife’s sleepy face. - I thought you’d be in the bedroom.

- Can’t move. - she pointed at her bulging bump covered by one of his old jumpers which seemed to be the only thing that fully covered her at this particular stage. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to her to quickly kiss her, hand caressing her bump through the jumper. - Didn’t expect you to be home so early.

- I can see. - he pointed at the bowl of Doritos on her lap. - You’re supposed to be the prudent one.

- I’m carrying your offspring. It makes me make bad decisions. - she teased, cuddling against him as he sat by her side, worn out slightly loose black leather jacket still on. - How are the boys?

- Fighting about who gets to be godfather this time.

- Did you tell them my brother is gonna be the godfather?

- Now, where would the fun be in that, bunny? - he smirked, with that boyish like looks he still managed to remain after all these years.

- Stop it. - she leaned towards him to kiss him.

- How are you feeling today? - his hand mindlessly rubbed her bump, feeling the little moves of the baby whenever the baby moved. - Little one is a bit feisty today.

- It’s been like this all of last night. I think I might be closer to labour than we think.

- Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve driven the kids to school, honey love.

- You needed to sleep. - she groaned as she stretched her legs. - Besides, Marion is staying with your mum today so I wanted to spend some time with her before she went.

- No kids tonight? - he leaned over to kiss her collarbone. - How long has it been?

- As long as I’ve been pregnant. - she pushed him away playfully. - Jess is not going.

- Why not? Jess loves my mum. Is he sick? Urgh, is the flu going around his class again? We need to put him into a better school, those kids at his school are always s...

- Seb, stop. - she rolled her eyes, smiling at the same time at how he’d gone from let it be to constant rambling about his children’s wellbeing. - He just wants to be home tonight and he’s been a little sad lately.

- You’re sure he’s not sick? Because there’s this private school which tests kids for all those flu things.

- He’s not sick. He’s just got ... a bit of a lovebug. He got like this when I was last pregnant with Marion.

- Well, at least he hasn’t decided that the baby is just not coming. - Sebastian referred to Marion. Their daughter had just decided there was no baby coming around, even after being offered her own bedroom with her own bathroom, just for herself. - I’ll go pick him up, make it a whole thing. Maybe even pass by Al’s ... get you that pasta you really like.

- You’re just trying to make me forget that you’re the reason we’re moving houses.

- Y/N, this house has always been too small.

- That’s because you need a whole room for your guitars alone.

She’d spend the best part of her initial married years trying to convince Sebastian to either get a storage unit to put all his guitars in or to just merge it with his office yet, he’d always come back with an excuse. “Honey love, they need to be displayed”, “Bunny I would just get distracted if they were in my office” he would tell her with his rockstar like charm which she thought was strong enough to resist, yet how can she say no when he immediately shifts from boyish smile to having her pressed against the wall of that very same room, pounding into her as if he was an up and coming rockstar and her his favourite groupie. With the need for that bedroom, their once spacious apartment they bought when she was pregnant with Jess was becoming too small. Normally Y/N would be okay with it but being 8 months pregnant during the fall where it constantly rains in New York, moving seemed like the last thing she’d like to do and just thinking about it made her tired already. After all, she could barely walk to the kitchen without feeling tired or taking a short break in the middle of the path. She thought that after two pregnancies, the third one would be a walk in the park. Turns out it’s more like a run in the park, except the park is on fire and she’s barefoot.

- Honey love, asking me to get rid of my guitars is like asking you to get rid of your five copies of Emma.

- They’re in different languages. - she argued back.

- They’re different models, besides, we can finally have a guest bedroom. You always wanted a guest bedroom.

- Sure then maybe my grandfather will come visit more often. How about that? - Sebastian chuckled at her answer. - I’m not joking. You get me pregnant, you get to be annoyed by my grandfather.

- You’re acting like this is my fault when you were the one who wore fishnets with a leather skirt. I’m only human.

- Fine, 10% my fault, 90% you fault. That’s my final offer.

- You sure?

- Yes. You see, you are a sex maniac who cannot be controlled.

- That’s not what you wrote about me. - he smirked. - You said I had more soul than just a sex pot.

- Do not quote my own words at me.

- You bought my old guitar.

- Urgh ... - she rolled her eyes. Sebastian grinned, happy he’d won the debate. - Just go make the other mums jealous please.

- Look at you, using me for my sex appeal only.

- No. I just really enjoy being the powerful mum.

- Yeah? What’s that like?

- Constant questions about if we do weird sex blood rituals. Then mysterious answers, so they all fear you and don’t force you to attend PTA meetings on date nights.

- I gotta say, bunny ... we got this parenting thing covered.

- We do.

- When I come back, you better not have a bowl of Doritos on your belly.

- I’ll do whatever I want.

- Sure, bunny, if you walk to the kitchen by yourself ...

- Low move, Stan. Low.

- You love me. - he chuckled, grabbing his keys from the trinket dish by the entry door. - See you soon, bunny.

- Love you. - she scrunched her face in a little smile which he couldn’t help but smile back.

Sebastian liked to pick up Marion and Jess from school. His schedule normally meant Y/N, who had a more 9-5 job, was the one who’d do the drop offs and collections so he’d always meet them at home but whenever he could pick them up, he’d be the first one there. He just loved to see his two babies come out of school in their little uniforms which he incredibly hated when they first enrolled but now couldn’t help but find incredibly adorable. He also loved to see how both his children came out of school. Marion would be the one who’d take the longest, surrounded by all her friends and probably nursing a scrape or two on her knee as if kindergarten 2-3 year old was a big fighting ground while Jess would come out as quickly as he could.

He parked slightly in front of his son’s school, coming out of the car and leaning against it. The parents’ eyes were immediately on him, maybe it was due to the star power or, most likely, it was because he was wearing a leather jacket, dark shades and his neck tattoo could be seen peaking out the collar of his jacket. His shoes crinkled the fallen leaves on the floor, avoiding those looks as he waited for his son. He knew who he was and he was not going to change it because he became a father, he is a good father, he knows that. The bell rang and a swarm of children came rushing out of the school, and they say birth rates are low. He took his sunglasses off, trying to pin point his son in the middle of all different aged children.

- DAD! - he turned his head to the memorable voice, crutching down as he son rushed to him. Jess wrapped his arms around his father, little childish giggles as Sebastian pulled him off the floor.

- Hey, buddy. How was school?

- We did hand turkeys.

- Hand turkeys? No way, that’s so cool. - he opened up the car’s passenger’s seat, sticking around to check if he fastened his seatbelt correctly before taking the driver’s seat. - It’s just gonna be us three today, bud. You, me and mummy. We getting Al’s and some ice cream.

- Why didn’t mummy come?

- Mummy is very tired, buddy. The baby is kicking a lot, won’t let the baby sleep.

- Oh ... - Sebastian saw his son’s face grow sadder.

- What do you want from Al’s, bud? You can get whatever you want.

- Really?

- Yeah.

The little restaurant had soon become a staple in their family life. Sebastian had. discovered by accident after accidentally burning dinner for Y/N’s. He wasn’t already too popular with Y/N’s family so he knew he had to fix it and there it was, the small little restaurant filled with delicious food. Now, it was just a Friday night tradition yet today was special, almost nostalgic to when Y/N, Sebastian and Jess had their first home. Back when Y/N and him were new parents and would trip on every toy in the apartment. God, those were the days.

- Dad? - Jess pulled at his sleeve while the two were waiting in the queue.

- Yeah, bud? - Sebastian picked him up, already understanding the signs of whenever he wanted to be held.

- I ... The baby’s not coming for a while, right?

- Why, Jessie? What did Marion say?

- She didn’t say anything ... uhm, it’s gonna be three of us now.

- Yeah. We’re gonna get a new big place, we can even get a dog or a cat. You always wanted a cat, didn’t you?

- But, now I’m third.

- What do you mean? - Sebastian furrowed his brows at the comment.

- Well, when Marion was a baby you and mummy were always with her but she’s still a baby and now there’s a new baby, so I’m gonna be third. - Sebastian’s heart broke at that comment. Now it made sense. - And ... you’re not home a lot and mummy is gonna be busy with the baby.

- Hey, you’re not third. - he rubbed his son’s back, kissing the side of his head, soothing him to the best of his ability. - You want me to be home more?

- No, daddy ... you like doing music.

- Hm ... how about you come to the studio with me when you don’t have school?

- Really? But you said I’m too little.

- Well, you’re gonna be a big brother again, I think it’s time.

- Really?

- Yeah. - he smiled him, his smile reflecting back at him.

- Faye.

- What?

- We should name the baby Faye.

- Faye? You want your baby sister to be named Faye?

- Yes.

- Well ... Faye it is.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan au #rockstar! sebastian stan

185 notes · View notes

adventures-in-poly · 2 years ago

Text

I want to be there

Last year, on September 24, I wrote a long post about my insecurities in my marriage and then nervously made it private.

One week later, we got into a three-day argument. We worked it out. We had a plan for how to make things better. I felt tentatively optimistic, like we had hashed it out and unsettled all this uncomfortable stuff but now it was out in the open, we could do something about it, we could heal.

One week after that, he left and never came home.

We are getting divorced.

It’s been 8 months now. I live alone in the apartment we used to share. Our cat died. Our sweet baby Tater Tot got sick two months after M left and died. My life as I knew it was ripped away from me. I have a new cat, my Millie. I have new furniture. I turned the apartment into the place I wanted it to be. I am trying to do the same with my life.

I don’t know how to write in this blog because honesty has always underpinned everything I say, and I don’t know how to divulge my feelings without airing our dirty laundry. As Beyoncé said, “You know I’m not gonna diss you on the internet, ‘coz my mama taught me better than that.” Gotta listen to Beyoncé. I still want to be respectful to M, to a point. We are civil but we aren’t in each other’s lives anymore. We have a business relationship. Getting divorced is a business. Taking each other off the insurance. Dividing up our things. Delivering mail that’s been sent to the wrong place. It’s all cordial but there’s no love in it. I write friendlier emails to colleagues I know 1/10th as well.

And another reason, which is also the reason I hadn’t written for so long before, is that poly just isn’t a huge part of my life right now. It hasn’t been for a while. The problems between M and I were deeper than that. We split for much more foundational reasons than that. The things I want to write just aren’t really relevant here. Maybe I’ll keep it alive in case anybody cares. Maybe.

I’m still dating Crow. Our relationship hasn’t changed. There was a hot second there when I thought it would. After M left, and my body broke down, I left my house for two weeks, left Tater Tot with a sitter. Part of that time I went to go stay with Crow and his wife. They were there for me when I needed love. I had my birthday during that time. Yes, he left five days before my birthday. We had had plans to celebrate in the town where Crow lives. I guess I kept those plans. They took me to the place where M was supposed to buy me cake. I didn’t eat normally for about two weeks but I still bought a cupcake. Crow’s wife tried to buy it for me, but I said I wanted to buy it because my money was still technically M’s money, and I wanted to do it out of spite. That made her laugh. Spite won over her ingrained need to be a good hostess. That night Crow cooked a delicious salmon dinner for all of us. It was the first time I had eaten real food since M left. We watched Ratatouille. It was as good a celebration as I was going to have, given the circumstances. I felt loved but gutted.

A few months later and Crow and I were talking about changing the nature of our relationship. Exploring an attachment relationship. I wanted to get closer to him, to rely on him, and he wanted the same. He talked with his wife and she was into it. All the pieces were coming together. But that fell apart, too. Part of it was when Tater died. My world was shaken up again. Five days before Tater died, Crow and I were talking about marriage. He’d said that if he were allowed to have multiple spouses, he would have proposed to me years ago. But when Tater died we kind of stopped talking. He also had a lot going on. A close friend, like family, was in the hospital. Another friend’s mom died. All in the same week. Crow is caring and he doesn’t know how to set boundaries around his caring, so he burns himself out and then isn’t able to help others or himself. He’s a care worker by profession and I’ve seen him set those boundaries in his job, so I don’t know... anyway. The world was dead to me at that point anyway. I didn’t feel close to him anymore. We talked about moving in together, with his wife, and that fell apart. That’s when I realized that we aren’t going to get closer. It’s just not in the cards for us. And I’m okay with that. Really, I am. I always liked being his secondary, and him mine. And now I’m on my own, I need to be my own primary. I can’t jump out of one person’s life and into my own. Before M left, I’d only been single as an adult for a small handful of months. Now I’m not single, but unattached. I like that word. It describes what I am beautifully. I’m dating Crow, I love him, but I’m unattached. I would like to be attached to someone, some day. But not any time soon. Only myself. And Millie. I need to figure out what I want my own world to be.

I’m reading The Midnight Library and questioning everything. In it, she quotes Camus. “If something is going to happen to me, I want to be there.” I haven’t been there in many, many years. I need to find my way back to myself.

#people: m #people: crow #people: crow's wife #divorce

18 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 4 years ago

Text

late night for a sinner

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: religious overtones cuz it’s this movie, described and enacted violence (against teagardin), preston teagardin (and all his sexual assault-y/manipulative bs) Notes: uhm people got married at like 20 in the 50s and i assume arvin is about 20 so no i will not apologize for making you his wife, my country-accent writing is bad(?) idk Summary: Arvin’s a protective man, especially when it comes to those he loves. ~~~

“Somethin’ ‘bout that preacher don’t feel right,” (Y/n) murmured to her husband as they stood outside the doors of the church, “Gives me a shiver right up my spine.”

Arvin nodded along to her words, watching as his grandmother and sister shook hands with Preston Teagardin - fancy name for a guy like him. A guy who gave women chills. He reached into his dress pants pocket and plucked out a cigarette before placing it between his lips, “Watch yourself around him, darlin’.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for Lenora, too,” (Y/n) crossed over the creaky boards of the church's stoop as people began exiting, her hands coming out for the man’s tie, “Did you loosen this durin' the sermon?”

“Too tight,” he let the woman adjust his tie, “You know how I feel ‘bout comin’ to these things.”

“I know, I know - hey, I don’t like comin’ either, but it means a lot to Ms. Emma and Lenora,” pulling back from the tie, (Y/n) placed her hands on Arvin’s shoulders, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta watch for that blasted preacher, and I think we’re the only ones who will.”

Removing the cigarette from between his lips, Arvin leaned over to kiss his wife’s forehead, pulling away to ask, “You take my light outta my pocket when you pressed my pants this morning?”

“Maybe I did,” she shrugged, grinning, “Maybe even I think you shouldn’t be smokin’ outside a church.”

“Maybe,” Arvin nodded, “Maybe.”

Emma and Lenora finally came out of the church and started towards the family’s truck, the two women got into the back with Arvin and (Y/n) getting into the front to finally head home. Lenora leaned forward as her brother started the truck, “You shoulda been in there for the goodbyes.”

“Oh?” turning her head and leaving her cheek pressed to the headrest, (Y/n) quirked a brow at the teenager, “What happened?”

“Reverend Teagardin said he’s interested in meeting you,” Lenora beamed at her sister-in-law.

“Just her?” Arvin pulled out of the church parking lot, “Seatbelt, Lenora.”

“I got it, I got it,” the girl waved off before returning to her previous conversation, “But yeah, just (Y/n). He was talkin’ about putting together a church choir. Thinks (Y/n) would have a pretty voice.”

“She’s got a pretty voice but she ain’t singin’ for no church choir,” Arvin’s brows furrowed, white-knuckling the steering wheel at the mere idea of that damned preacher trying to get close to his wife, “Not in that man’s church choir.”

“Let the girl speak for herself,” Emma cut in, “Thought I raised you better than that.”

Pursing his lips, Arvin turned to (Y/n) for a split second before returning his stare to the road, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she looked back to her sister-in-law, “You singin’ in the choir, Lenora?”

“I’d love to try.”

Clenching her jaw, (Y/n) thought over her choices. Leave Lenora to sing in that choir - leave her sweet, naive little sister-in-law in that preacher’s hands for far longer than was typical or wanted… Or, suck it up and sing for the bastard.

“I’ll sing with ya, sweetheart.”

Arvin sighed quietly, glad none of the women in the car heard him over the rumbling of the truck’s old engine. To distract himself, and by proxy the women in the car, he suddenly changed the topic, “This damn old truck. Gonna hafta fix it up or take it in.”

“You’re gonna take it in?” (Y/n) tilted her head.

“Thing’s old; I’ll do as much as I can, darlin', but sometimes there’s only so much I can do. You know that.”

“I’ll need to go with you,” the truck jumbled with the rocky bumps of their home’s pull-in, “Pick up a few things for dinner.”

Lenora felt her heart warm and lips quirk into a smile at her brother and sister-in-law. They weren’t so into the church as her and Grandma, in fact - Lenora’s certain they only played along to please her and Grandma, but watching them was nice. Nothing to play along to, just a simple, pure expression of adoration between the couple. Arvin was never a man known for something as soft and tender as love but (Y/n), since the two were in grade school, was easily able to pull it out of him.

From high school sweethearts into married lovers. It was overjoying to know someone else was looking after Arvin.

“I’ll check up on Mr. Earskell and be right out.”

“No, no, (Y/n),” Emma shook her head, taking the woman’s hand as she was assisted out of the truck, “I’ll handle things. You and Arvin go on and stay out here.”

She didn’t bother fighting against the older woman, she was the matriarch of the family - she was just the rule maker. It was only fair.

“You don’t hafta keep callin’ em Miss and Mister,” Arvin came out and around to the hood of the truck, “They’re part a’ your family now.”

“Feels improper,” (Y/n) rebuffed, standing beside her husband, “I’m just thankful they’re lettin’ me stay here.”

“And why wouldn’t they?” he knew why she felt that way - her own family was insufferable and he could barely stand being around them for a dinner - he couldn’t imagine having to live with them.

“Let’s not open that can of worms today, huh, love?” (Y/n) placed her hands on her hips as she watched her husband look over the truck’s interior and drag over his tools and oil.

“Don’t joke ‘bout that, love,” despite his words, Arvin was smiling slightly, “Poor fishermen work hard to get those worm cans.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she sarcastically relented, peeking over the man’s shoulder, “Wish I knew anything to help you.”

“I could teach you a thing or two.”

“Maybe not now, baby.”

Which, of course, was code for ‘I’d rather not. Ever.’ but politely.

There was silence between the married couple as Arvin worked until he sighed and planted his hands on each side of the open hood, head hanging low as he murmured, “You’re really goin’ to that choir?”

“We both know I gotta be there for Lenora.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ll still be worried to hell ‘bout you,” he turned to face his wife, restraining himself cupping her cheeks and smearing grime over her, “Both a' you,” then he finally admitted as to why he was so apprehensive, “I’ve been watchin’ him.”

“You what…?!” she whisper-screamed, coming in closer to her husband, “Arvin Eugene Russell, you been what?”

“Watchin’ him,” Arvin almost regrets the admission at the sight of his wife’s shock, “He’s a no-good-sonofabitch, (Y/n). Messin’ around with a young girl behind his wife’s back. She’s good to him, (Y/n), she cooks him dinner and she does her best to keep him happy. He’s no good to her. He’s no good, at all.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrow, “Cheatin’ on his wife?”

“A girl from Lenora’s class. He’s worse than a cheater,” he turned back to the hood of the truck and quickly said, “We’re takin’ it in.”

“Why haven’t you said anything yet?”

“Nobody will ever believe me, (Y/n), you know that. Everybody here loves that damn radio bullshitter.”

Nodding quietly, (Y/n) fisted a hand in her skirt before turning towards the home’s door, “I’ll tell Lenora we’re goin’.”

The topic is ultimately dropped as they leave into town. As they take the truck in for the shop and as they pick out items for dinner that night and even on the walk home. Reverend Preston Teagardin didn’t come up again, neither did his affairs or his disgustingly, sickeningly low age preference for said affairs.

They weren’t the only people in town on watch of their new preacher in town, they were just another young couple walking home.

Even as dinner passed and time for rest came - as they pressed into bed and huddled together in the cold night. Teagardin was temporarily forgotten, pushed to the backs of their minds as they slipped into slumber.

And when Arvin darts up from bed after another nightmare over finding his father’s body that fateful night, (Y/n)’s thoughts are solely on her husband. Bringing him back into the present, where he’s not in the woods finding his father knelt down in front of their makeshift church but instead in bed with his loving wife. With his sister down the hall. His grandmother at the end of the corridor and his great-uncle's own room across from theirs. He’s in a home that isn’t going anywhere - he’s with people who won’t leave him, not any time soon anyway.

It’s not until the next day, after Lenora’s first day back at school for the week had finished and her daily visit to Hellen Hatton-Laferty was over, that Teagardin even peeked back into the couple’s brains.

“If that sonofabitch touches you or Lenora, tell me,” Arvin whispered to his wife, hands holding hers tightly before she went into the church for choir practice, “I’ll make sure ain't got no hands to touch you, or Lenora, or any other unlucky woman.”

“I’ll come right to you, honey,” (Y/n) was quick to confirm for her husband, “Promise.”

“Good,” he cups his wife’s cheeks and pulls her into a tender forehead kiss before going to his sister and giving her a tight hug, “Be the loudest one there, got it?”

Lenora chuckled quietly, patting her brother’s shoulder, “You know I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) goes up the stairs and pulls one of the double doors open, “You just shouldn’t, ain’t that right, Arvin?”

A teasing shrug and he’s walking off towards the car while Lenora follows her sister-in-law up and into the church.

Teagardin is sitting in one of the pews with his back turned towards the two women.

There’s nobody else in the church despite having been told this was the meeting time. It’s silent. Preston still hasn’t turned to the two.

Lenora is fidgeting beside (Y/n) the longer the man stays quiet. The younger girl nervously bunching the skirt of her dress in her fists. Her brows drawn tight in confusion and lips pressed into a thin line.

(Y/n) steps forward, ignoring the nerves urging her to run and encouraging her knees to buckle underneath the weight of her body, “We’re here, preacher.”

His head lifted, a smile coming over his lips, an unnatural smile - one she’d imagined on the devil when he tricked another soul into his claws. Preston comes to a full stand and approaches the women, “I didn’t expect both of you to come.”

“I wanted to support Lenora.”

“How wonderful.”

“Preacher’s dirty.”

“What?”

(Y/n) sighed, sitting up in bed and looking down at her husband and whispering into the night air, “Teagardin. He’s just as dirty as you said.”

Immediately, Arvin was also sat up, no longer tired and now entirely focused on his wife, “What happened?”

“Tried touchin’ Lenora ‘til I stopped him. Grabbed me. I got us out of there and now Lenora’s tryin' to figure out how to tell Ms. Emma.”

Arvin stood out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers, slipping on a shirt and his hat before heading to the bedroom door and slipping out of the room. (Y/n) followed after, eyes wide and brain springing into panic as she watched him tug on his shoes. Hurriedly, the woman put her shoes on as well while Arvin snuck out of the home, her continuing to follow after him.

Once they were in the car, (Y/n) turned to Arvin as he pulled out of the driveway, “What the hell are you doin’? It’s late, you can settle this tomorrow, can't ya?”

“No. It don’t matter if he’s with his wife or at the church, I’m puttin’ that bastard in his place. I hope that woman leaves his ass,” he shook his head, “Rotten fuckin’ bastard.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

The man was silent as he drove towards where he knew the Teagardin residence was. Every few minutes he would take off his cap and run a hand through his matted hair - if he could force himself to do so, he could almost pretend this was a nice drive with his wife. A simple late-night cruise through town with the love of his life, but then he would remember exactly why they were on a late-night cruise. A peek at (Y/n) would remind him, she must be frightened to all hell - it must’ve been awful to be in that church. Be near that rotten man.

And Arvin’s rage was freshly re-lit.

“Is this the right time?” she remembered each time her husband had repeated the phrase from his father, it was usually enough to sway him from acting out at that moment.

“Best time there is. He’s asleep - won’t be expectin’ us.”

(Y/n) settled into her passenger side seat, turning her head to stare out the window, “How’re you gonna get him out?”

Arvin was silent once again, fingers tight against the steering wheel as they pulled up to the bend at the end of the preacher’s street. He got out of the car and stormed towards the Teagardin home with (Y/n) trailing after.

It wasn’t long until Preston came stumbling out of his home with Arvin banging on the front door. Cynthia was out soon after her husband, clinging to the door frame.

“Late night for a sinner, kids,” Preston rubbed at his eyes, “Can this wait ‘til the mornin’?”

“You try touchin’ Lenora?” Arvin was blunt, he didn’t like sugar coating and he didn’t like the people who did it. Turning, he gestured to (Y/n), “Tried touchin’ my (Y/n)?”

Immediately, Preston’s eyes widened, “Now, now, I- I didn’t do nothin’ to those two.”

“Callin’ my wife a liar?”

Cynthia looked between her husband and the younger couple on her lawn, “What’s this about, Preston?”

“You just go inside now, Cynthia!” the preacher called back to his wife, “These two are full of delusions!”

“Arvin, let’s just head home now - you can take care of this tomorrow…”

Shaking his head, Arvin only approached the older man further, “My wife ain’t no liar. And those hands ain’t free of sin.”

“Go inside, Cynthia!” Preston shouted at his wife once again before turning back to the other man, “You won’t say nothing. I will have your lives ruined. Who will the town trust? Me, or two scruffy children who married straight outta high school?” he gives a forced chuckle, shaking his head and pointing at (Y/n) with a shaky hand, “Your wife… she- she… your wife is delusional. She’s crazy.”

Arvin Russell had been fighting nearly his entire life - he learned from his father and he continued on far after his father passed. Preston Teagardin had never been an athletic boy nor had he been confrontational by any means, preferring to hide in the shadows and smile his way out of trouble.

It wasn’t a mystery as to how Arvin managed to land Preston on the hard ground, chest pressing into the dirt and hands tightly wound behind his back in Arvin’s hold.

He didn’t know what he was looking for in the man. He didn’t know what he wanted from the preacher. He couldn’t kill the bastard - he still had a sister and wife to look after when his grandmother and uncle could no longer. Was it admission? Was it a promise to not even look at the women of Knockemstiff? It wasn’t an apology, he knew that - because there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be giving out forgiveness.

“You take back what you said,” Arvin grunted out, pushing his body harshly into Preston’s back and hoping it’d hurt as much as when boys did it to him on the playground, “You take back what you said about my wife, you hear me?”

“She’s crazy!”

Arvin took a hand into the preacher's hair and smushed his face deep into the dirt, “If I- “ when Teagardin’s whining got too loud, Arvin let his head up before roughly smashing it back into the ground, “Fuckin’ listen when I talk. You listenin’?” he waited for a nod of confirmation before continuing, “If I even hear your name in the same sentence as my wife’s or my sister’s, I’ll bash your fuckin’ brains in, hear me?”

“Arvin!” (Y/n) finally screamed out to her husband, hands landing on one of his arms and pulling, “Arvin, you let him go!”

“He deserves this, (Y/n)!”

“I know, but dammit Arvin, you’re gonna get the sheriff on you, let’s go home!”

Giving one last thunk of Preston’s skull into the ground, Arvin stood and kicked the man’s ribs before nodding at Cynthia with a brief ‘goodnight ma’am’ and returning to the car.

“That was a dumb thing you just did, Arvin Russell,” (Y/n) scolded, rather lightly, as her husband drove.

“I don’t regret a damn thing about it, (Y/n) Russell.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” she reached over and snatched his cap before fixing it over her own head, “I’m proud my husband cares so much.”

“Least I could do for the woman of my dreams.”

#arvin russel x you #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x reader #arvin russell x you #before you start about how women were treated poorly and arvin speaking over yn would be normal in the 50s i want you to know #i literally don't care cuz i wrote it :) and i leik feminism so yeah :)

163 notes · View notes

embrassemoi · 3 years ago

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 31

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Warnings: Language, smoking weed, shitty parenting, mentions of death A/N: more of a filler but it helps establish stuff. *unbeta'd

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 31: Drowning on Dry Land

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The week before her flight back, Matthew’s parents invited her over for dinner.

Waiting to greet them at the door was Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin. Matthew’s father, a Half-Maj, was a Potioneer while his mother, an Old-Maj, was a Court Scribe. They wore large, kind smiles as Mrs. Gaplin pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.

After pleasantries, she and Matthew kicked off their shoes while his parents ushered them to the dining room.

“How are you darling? '' Mrs. Gaplin asked, floating plates in their direction as everyone began helping themselves to food. “Matt wouldn’t stop talking about you since we knew y’were coming.”

She side-eyed Matthew who groaned loudly. “Did not!”

“Sure thing,” she added, which caused Matthew to slump in his chair as his parents laughed at him.

It was a nice, charming evening; filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations. His parents continued to gloat about Mathew’s achievements that he hadn’t told her. It caused him to almost get up and run out of the room from embarrassment before moving to boast about Y/N. Even Mr. Gaplin asked her regarding her OWLs which pleasantly surprised her.

A few times, Mr. Gaplin pressed a few cheeky kisses to his wife’s face as Matthew made loud retching noises.

“Disgusting!”

Mr. Gaplin laughed. “Ya sixteen. Suck it up.”

“But you’re still my baby!” Mrs. Gaplin cooed, getting up to collect the plates.

Matthew tried to look insulted but she could see the small smile that threatened his lips as jealousy nipped at her toes.

The next few days were spent staying at the Gaplin household. Matthew’s parents insisted constantly that she should stay over so they could utilize the little time they had left before leaving. At first, the idea made her feel intrusive. Although, her mother hadn’t returned to the brownstone house, preferring to sleep in the on-call rooms at the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. It quickly got lonely and boring before Y/N finally agreed. Besides, Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin were only around for breakfast and dinner - working for the day but never failed to return; always wearing larger smiles than the previous night.

They made her feel welcomed and warm - even taking her and Matthew to the local pictures. They included her in everything, even their trivia and board games after dinner.

It was quite the change compared to her family life.

Then an identical routine ensued. She would wake up, get ready for the day; spend hours with Matthew; then twilight fell as they stayed awake into the early hours of the morning.

The day before she was due to leave, she and Matthew ran up to his room after dinner. He went to lean on top of the small coffee table, rolling up a joint as she collected her possessions scattered around his room; not wanting to leave it for the last minute.

“Fancy some grass?” He asked in a poor British accent.

“Nah,” she shook her head, “But thanks love.”

Mathew’s smile turned bashful as he stood, turning on the radio in the background. She moved to open his window which was just above the roof of his shed as she stepped out with steady feet. Perching herself down on the blankets and pillows they hauled outside the night prior, she stared at the glowing city splayed in front. From the window, The Velvet Underground flowed softly.

Matthew proceeded to hop out, sauntering over as he threw a flirtatious wink.

“Brough this,” he said, tossing the camera he’d taken from her bag. She caught it as he nestled beside her and lit the joint; placed in his mouth. Billows of smoke clouded around them while she snapped a few photos of the view.

“Ya sure you gotta leave?” Matthew whined, embers of the end of the joint sparking with another huff. “Maybe you can smuggle me. Shove me into that trunk.”

She pulled the camera away from her face, inhaling the earthy, pungent scent. Her head felt a bit lightheaded from it. “A hardcore criminal at sixteen?”

Matthew was mildly amused until a troublesome look passed through his features. “Um — name something ya miss most about home.”

Home. What a funny word — place — feeling. Home was supposed to be something that made your heart glow, feel warm and happy — by that definition, a year ago home would’ve been her little house back in Toronto with the beautiful maple trees swaying in the backyard. Or home would’ve been Ilvermorny and its tall ivory walls. But now, London, or maybe just Hogwarts, had become her home. The scrolls around the Herbology greenhouse, the library, sneaking around past curfew; the Black Lake, Hogsmeade — Lily, James, Marlene, Dorcas, Remus, Regulus…

Unsure of what to say, she opted for, “You?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, bringing the joint to his lips. “Real charmer.” Then, smoke surrounded them. “But really.”

“Why?”

“C’mon! I need an answer! — I don’t know… say somethin’ like… lobstah.”

She chuckled. “Lobster? Really?”

“Or coffee from ya regular cafe.”

Deliberating it for a second, lips tugged up. “Coffee Crisp.”

He snorted. “A candy bar? Really?”

“Or Ketchup chips. Haven’t seen them in London yet.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

And then the silence returns but it makes Matthew shuffle in his spot. He blurted out, “Go — more brit insight.”

Y/N felt a bit hazy from the secondhand smoke. “More? You’ll get bored.”

“I won’t,” Matthew replied quickly, sounding oddly sincere. “Please, just… go on. Tell me everything.”

“Um… a friend of mine says crikey a lot. I think it just means to be mildly surprised? — They don’t say bloody or blimey as much as you’d think… Oh! Tea — they really drink that much tea. Also —”

Continuing, Matthew shut off again, going completely silent — not once speaking up or adding funny commentary; only staring at her, simply watching.

“Okay,” she turned to take the joint from his hand, “You're freaking me out. Spill, what's up?”

“S’nuthing.”

Whack!

“Jeez! Would ya stop wiv that! Gonna kill me…”

“Spill.”

“Fine! It’s just that…'' Matthew shifted, obscuring his face. Maybe if she didn’t feel so fuzzy, or if there wasn’t the smoke coming from the blunt or her small headache forming, she would’ve picked up on all the little signs. “It’s just —” he sighed, “I wanna hear ya talk — commit it to memory.”

“Obsessed with me? Not new.”

But that seemed to trouble him more. “It’s just… I don’t know if or when I’ll hear it again…” He looks up to the city in front. “Ya my… best friend. Could never forget ‘bout ya, but s’hard — keepin’ in touch.”

She pats him, encouraging and smiling. Her voice was hopeful, so much so that it made Matthew’s lip quirk up. “We’ll find each other. Always.” She said simply. “You and me, we’re like… salt and pepper. Soap and water — Hansel and Gretel!”

“Fuckin’ Dr. Seuss,” he smiled, that worried look fading away.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The warm summer breeze flowed around them, just as the sun peeked above the airport. Expanse, clear skies with blue mingled with deep purples and pinks shimmered against the metal from the building.

“Gonna miss ya,” Matthew muttered into the crown of her head. Her mother didn’t want him to come, but Y/N simply ignored that request as he came to send her off.

“Don’t get mushy on me now,” she joked but felt her throat become tight.

“Betta get goin’ — Doc’s lookin’ like she’s ‘bout to butcher me if ya don’t.”

She snickered, pushing Matthew’s shoulder as she picked up her bags, walking backwards while waving. “Write me!”

“Course I will! Until next time!”

“Till next time!”

Once the plane took off, awkwardness swelled among the two women. Not once had her mother said anything to her — not to apologize or see how she was doing — although they never really did talk much. Honestly, she half-expected her to leave her in New York with the Gaplins. Easy to dispose of her.

The next few days Y/N, poorly, attempted to fix her sleeping schedule. It was a miracle that she managed to get up before dinner as her head poked into the master bedroom.

She cleared her throat, feeling herself swaying in place. “Um — hi. I’m making dinner tonight.”

Her mother was dressed in a simple, yet sleek dress. She was bent over, putting on high heels as she looked up.

“The hospital is throwing a party for me — the surgery was a success.”

“That’s amazing! Er — will you be back for dinner though? It’s just that I leave soon and... two parties are better than one.”

She considered her for a long time, eyes mostly distracted by her hair slowly changing to a different colour.

“Sure. But I have to go now.”

“Right, sorry, have fun.”

Thudding down the stairs and the door clicking shut, she followed not too long after. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a dusty cooking book, blowing off the dust and cracked it open; flicking through the pages.

Deciding on the seemingly easy noodle dish, she rushed out of the house to the local grocery shop for ingredients. It would be the first time they would be spending any time together. It had to be perfect. But she overestimated that no matter how closely she stuck with the dishes’ instructions, the outcome was a disaster.

The noodles somehow were rock hard. The sauce she made looked grey and was chunky, similar to badly mixed concrete and it tasted horrid. At one point, even the stove exploded into flames as she had to grab her wand and use magic to extinguish the fire.

Potions... She could use a cauldron, use multiple ingredients, make some of the most complicated spells and even had tricks of her own to make the process easier but she couldn’t make a simple dish…

Her face screwed together as she glanced up to the clock; she was going to come home soon as the dinner she made was disastrous. She panicked, cleaning up everything in a rush and decided to order food.

Waiting patiently at the dinner table, her eyes fluttered up to the clock in anticipation. She felt giddy, a surge of excitement rattling throughout her bones at the prospect. Her mother wanted to spend time with her! And she should be home any minute.

But then a minute turned to two, then five, ten, twenty, thirty — then an hour ticked by.

And then another.

Y/N got up, her chair squeaking loudly. Losing all her appetite, she went to her room, sleeping in early.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 20th, 1976

Going through the potential NEWT courses she could take was the highlight of her day. The possibilities were endless.

Wanting to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations and most of all, Potions, left her excited for the school year.

But the more she thought about the upcoming school year or potential courses, she was left to contemplate what ther5 future entailed.

Was she ready to give up magic? Something that fundamentally altered her life and moulded her into what she was? Magic was her essence, something she developed and nurtured — but to put her life in danger…

Rethinking that word again: home… Was London her home? Was she willing to leave, move again to be safer? But practicing magic around the world these days for New-Majs was dangerous. Or the potential danger she would put her mother in if she continued with it?

But magic… Maybe home wasn’t necessarily a place — but rather something she carried. In all sense, magic made her heart glow, feel warm, safe and happy — it felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And the idea of being ripped away from it, forcing herself to live a normal, Muggle life…

Magic was home.

So die, but have what she cared and loved most was by her side or live a dull life without magic — ensuring her life would be miserable.

There was a clicking of shoes in the hallway that snapped her out of her thoughts. Her mother came walking by.

Lips smushed shut into a tight line, still annoyed from the other night but was determined to spend some time with one another.

“I was planning to go to Diagon Alley for the first time — to get my textbooks... '' She stood awkwardly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t,” she replied, so quickly that it had Y/N almost scoff in disbelief. “Work. But have fun.”

She sighed but still waved her off and said a small, ‘I love you, stay safe.’ Her mother only gave her a look, something unreadable and left without a word. With a heavy heart, she grabbed her purse filled with gold and left for Diagon Alley.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was an adventure in itself. The shabby, tiny pub was jammed with wizards and witches zipping by.

Diagon Alley was bustling with so much magic she could feel it pumping through her blood. Students were hypnotized by the shiny new Firebolt on display; others were giggling, running around with shopping bags while older witches and wizards took a scroll. Her head turned in every direction; walking into the Apothecary, a potions ingredients and book shop.

Emmeline was there. She gave a tight-lipped smile which she returned.

Emmeline by every definition was nice, extremely kind and neither girl ever had a problem with the other. James was the problem and Y/N would gladly stay out of their feud.

Passing clamouring students, she managed to get all her supplies but stopped in front of the potion ingredients. She took a few minutes, flicking through the Advance Potions textbook and grabbed everything listed needed for most of the potions.

She made her way around Diagon Alley, going through many shops. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books and materials. She spent more time than necessary there but it was beautiful.

As she was paying for her Herbology textbook, a large boom! rumbled the ground. Y/N took her bags, ready to sprint to the Leaky Cauldron but the shouts caught everyone’s attention.

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” A crowd of witches and wizards shouted. Their wands were transformed into microphones as a few shot fireballs up in the air.

“What’s happening?” A woman asked an old wizard. He only shook his head, grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet, handing it to the witch.

On the front page, there were moving photos of people protesting, similar to the wizards and witches currently shouting.

‘Protests Break out in Light of Muggleborns and Halfbloods Burned Alive

Voldemort and his followers have been attacking Muggleborn and ‘blood traitor' families with the usage of fire. By burning them alive, or their houses. They bonded the witch or wizard with magic, making it impossible to apparate or leave their houses. Their broken wands were found at the scene.

Since then, protests all around Britain and Scotland have broken out. The Ministry of Magic —’

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” The crowd chanted.

Rage filled every inch of her body as she stomped out of Diagon Alley.

If she wanted to stay in the magical world, she had to be the greatest at whatever she did, because if she wasn’t, someone of her status was never going to get anywhere.

Magic was home, and she wasn’t going to let them take it from her. She didn’t want to surrender. They weren’t going to take that away from her.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

Immediately after Diagonal Alley, she began working; taking in her thoughts from earlier to heart.

Making sure to cover any windows from prying eyes, Y/N fiddle with first with new charms. Still unassured by her abilities in Charms, she considered taking another class before realizing all the different routes it led to. To become a Healer, Auror or Potioneer, she needed Charms.

Multiple charms backfired, causing them to ricochet off the walls, leaving a dent or chipping the wallpaper.

After trying out more than half the Charms in the book, there was one spell in particular that she attempted to cast many times, but without fail, was never able to properly cast it. Frustrated, her hand made a sharp flick and the spell spurted out instantly.

She tried again with the same hand gesture. To her astonishment, the charm produced easily. Quickly, she jotted down the note in her book.

Next, she glossed over her Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts book until her eyes caught onto the word: werewolf.

She learned briefly about werewolves, but that was in third year. And now that she knew a werewolf, it would be good to rehash it.

A werewolf, also known as a Lycanthrope, is a non-magical or magical being who transforms under the rising of the full moon. However, non-magical beings have a greater risk of dying rather than turning.

As the name suggests, werewolves are closely related to the non-magical animal, wolves. However, they have distinct characteristics that make them easily identifiable from wolves.

She flipped the page.

Wolfsbane flowers are poisonous to the non-magical world but it has been proven to have no effects on werewolves like they do on wolves. Werewolves are immune from the poison they emit and there are reports that Wolfsbane flowers help alleviate symptoms.

She underlined that section.

It’s a uniquely magical illness known to spread by saliva and blood. Werewolves are dangerous, blood-thirsty beasts — she flipped the page.

They cannot choose to transform and will no longer retain their human mind. Given the opportunity, they would slaughter their loved ones — flipped the page.

A mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to bites help seal bite wounds. It’s also commonly put in liquid and digested in anticipation of full moons to help with the symptoms of transforming.

Y/N’s face scrunched as she continued to read.

There is no known cure Potion used to help treat lycanthropy.

She felt oddly intrusive knowing parts about Remus’ condition. But then questions arose. How were there no Potions of any kind there to help werewolves during their transformation?

Pushing the thought away, she turned to the cauldron, picking a potion to brew. They all were fairly easy, some she’d even done before just by playing around. But one potion that grabbed her attention was Draught of Living Death. Even at Ilvermorny, that potion was notoriously difficult.

Starting up the cauldron, she grabbed hold of the sopophorous bean. However, it kept jumping when she tried to cut it. She quickly resorted to another method, running down to her kitchen and grabbing the handheld garlic press, placing the bean inside, squishing it down as so much juice spurted out, even going all over her clothing.

The potion turned into the light lilac like suggested. But then as she stirred, her potion quickly became ruined as she restarted immediately.

Hours ticked by; several items in her room were Transfigured into cauldrons, as she poured the existing solution into the nine other cauldrons as she conducted her experiment.

Stirring counterclockwise was a sham, so she stirred clockwise. Nothing, the potion went bad. The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise and then clockwise, alternating between every stir. It showed promising progress before it turned a bright red after the seventh stir, bubbling over.

The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise, then clockwise after the seventh stir as the potion turned a pink pale. That’s what the book said would happen. She quickly cleared the rest of the cauldrons, pouring in the pink liquid just in case.

She continued to stir until it became a clear liquid. Surely, that was good enough but she could never be sure. After all, she didn’t know if this was what it was supposed to look like.

Deeply immersed, she hadn’t realized how late it got.

She laid on her bed, her light on as she read the scribbles on the margins of the books she'd penned. The textbook was outdated and everything she’s written down, there were easier ways to perform spells, create Potions and more. The other books must’ve been outdated too.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 22nd, 1976

Today, her attention was drawn to her Herbology textbook as she flipped right to the medicine section. Y/N had sneakily stolen a few of her mother’s medical journals as she scribbled down notes.

She flicked through the diagrams. Wizards and No-Majs were different when it came to their bodies and sickness, she knew that, but their anatomy was still the same.

An opera played in the background as she sat in front of the television. It filled the silence as her mother came from behind her, creeping her way closer to the door.

Y/N called out from where she sat. “Care to join me?”

“Can't, work.” She grunted out.

She placed the pen down, full attention drawn to her. “I only have a few days until school starts… you can’t spend some time?”

Her mom wasn’t looking at her, ostensibly staring at the floor, anywhere other than her face.

“It’s not that interesting, but um - I need help with medical terms and illnesses. You’re the best at that!”

“I can’t,” she said roughly. “Can't you see? You have to stop bothering me when I’m busy.” And then she left again, leaving her alone. Y/N would’ve been more bothered had she not been so focused on her studies.

There was a pattern.

In the Herbology textbook, in the werewolf section, there were a few ingredients used to help alleviate symptoms of Lycanthropy.

Dittany, Powered silver, Powdered Moonstone, Aconite…

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 26th, 1976

“Do you want to —” “Work.”

“But you always have work… can’t you take some time off?”

“You know it’s important to me. Why do you keep trying to limit that?”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 29th, 1976

She was partially through her Potions and Charms textbook. It was all she could fixate on.

Deciding to take a break, Y/N went to stretch, getting up to talk to her mom who again, was getting ready to leave. She opened the honey-coloured wood draw close to the door. She pulled out a set of keys, fixing her appearance in a nearby mirror.

She had already opened the door.

“Hey mom, I was thinking of getting lunch… Will you be back soon?”

But, there was faint muffling outside the door.

“Ready for our date?”

Y/N, desperate, seized hold of her wrist, pleading. “Please, I leave in a day.”

“I'll make it up to you,” mom replied, “I promise.” And then, the door clicked shut.

Again.

She stared at the door, trying to regulate what she was thinking.

What made them worthy of her time when their’s were limited.

Robotically, Y/N turned to walk to her room, her hip bumped into the drawer which hadn’t been fully closed. Her eyes flew to it, about to push it in as she caught a flash of white.

Yanking it open, she swore her heart could’ve shattered. White envelopes filled the draw; her familiar handwriting scribbled on top of each letter. She picked one up, twisting it over to the flap.

It was unopened.

She picked up another. Unopened.

Then another. Unopened.

Unopened.

All of them were unopened, sealed. Hardly tampered with and there was hardly a wrinkle.

Was there something wrong with her? Something so disgraceful that made her so disgusting that people kept forgetting - pushing her away? Like an insidious disease.

Was she truly that unloveable? That much of a nuisance? What made someone else so much more important than her?

It was too much to process but if she had to describe the feeling, it was like drowning on dry land.

Whatever home was, it shouldn’t feel like this: cold, lonely, sad.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary (+ a bit of history bc i didn’t realize how many ppl didn’t actually understand what I was talking about in other chaps):

Coffee Crisp = a very popular chocolate bar sold in Canada. It was a variation of a treat made by a company from the UK. It was briefly introduced to the UK in the 60s but was pulled back because people thought it was too similar to Kit Kat. From what I know, Coffee Crisp is not commonly found in England (I've never seen it in stores) but it’s sold in Scotland.

Candy bar = US term for chocolate bar / chocolate

Grass = during the 60s - 70s, the term 'grass' was very popular slang for weed in New York bc it featured in vogue.

And yes, the British do drink that much tea.

83 notes · View notes

atc74 · 4 years ago

Text

Eye of the Beholder

Warnings: Poor body image (?), slight angst, a little envy, a lot of fluff, and implied sexy times

Summary: Jensen is feeling less confident in himself lately and you think you know why. He has always been there for you, now you just need to show your husband he has no reason to be.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1470

Written for: @breakthezone first quarter challenge, which was to choose one of two prompts. Mine is bolded below.

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, cause she is the best

A/N: So you know the pictures, the spread, the article in THAT magazine, featuring that beautiful soul, and that would cause any man to think less of himself, but I thought, what would go through Jensen’s head and how would I help him through it.

Like Jensen’s Warmth? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

The cold snowy mountains were a stark contrast to the warm flatland of their home state, but Y/N was loving the quietness and solace of the northeast. Y/N pulled into the snow-covered driveway and started unloading the groceries. She planned accordingly and for weeks at a time; they didn’t have many delivery options out there.

“Honey, I’m home! What do you say you come help me carry in and put away all this food and I make you a nice, juicy porterhouse for dinner?” Y/N called from the kitchen as she dropped the load on the counter. “Honey? Jay?” The house was mostly silent but then she heard it. The distinct smack of fists and feet hitting the heavy bag Jensen installed in the home gym. She sighed knowing this was the third day in a row Jensen had spent hours in the gym, working out until he was ready to drop.

Y/N brought in the rest of the bags, stored the food, and changed her clothes. If she was going to join him in the gym, at least she could participate. It wasn’t like it was a hardship watching her husband in only a pair of shorts, his freckled skin dripping with sweat.

She brought fresh water with her, setting it on the weight bench. He was breathing heavy, sweating, and red-faced. Jensen was not out of shape by any means, but he somehow had gotten it in his head that he needed to get into better shape. Maybe it was the pressure of becoming Soldier Boy, maybe it was that he was approaching his “mid-forties”, it could have been a few things, but Y/N thought she knew exactly what had prompted this new obsession. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, babe,” he rasped, his breaths heavy with exertion, his hair soaking. “Just a few more minutes.” He landed another two punch kick combo.

“Jay, you have got to take a break. You can’t keep going like this, hours a day, day after day,” Y/N pleaded with him. “This is enough for today.”

“Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re right.” He stopped, hugging the bag tightly, holding on as he tried to catch his breath.

“Go shower, I’ll get dinner started, okay?” Y/N smiled, kissing him softly.

“You got it. I’m pretty sure I reek anyway.”

Leafy greens and brightly colored vegetables covered the kitchen island as Y/N chopped and sliced away. The cuts of meat were sitting out to warm up before grilling, and a nice bottle of a full-bodied red was breathing on the table. Jensen emerged from the hallway leading from their bedroom about thirty minutes later, looking a little worse for the wear. He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, swiping a handful of peppers, too.

“I saw that mister,” she smiled, leaning into his touch. “But I’m gonna let it slide just ‘cause you smell nice.”

“Better than before?”

“Oh, way better,” she laughed, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing, babe. Just trying to stay in shape. I gotta get in that custom suit in a couple of weeks, and I ain’t getting any younger.” Jensen looked down, running a hand over his face, scratching at his beard.

“That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah, just running isn’t gonna cut anymore. I have to keep up.”

“Keep up with…?”

Jensen pretended he didn’t hear Y/N as he started helping with the salad. If he ignored the question, maybe she would let it go. It seemed to be working, for now, so he went with it, and continued to help her with dinner.

“Jay, these look perfect!” Y/N gushed as she cut into the steak. She placed the bite in her mouth, the flavor exploding, and she moaned around it. “Oh my god, it's practically melting in my mouth!”

“You made it easy with a superb cut of meat, babe,” Jensen shrugged, digging into his salad and grilled vegetables.

All through dinner, Y/N noticed how he barely touched his meat or wine, but took extra helpings of the healthy stuff. She decided she would let it go, wanting to enjoy their meal, but soon enough, the dishes were cleared and leftovers stored.

“Jay?” Y/N asked, rinsing the plate in her hand before handing it to her husband. “Can I ask you something?”

“Babe, you can ask me anything, you know that.”

“And promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I won’t get mad, but now I am a little suspicious,” Jensen raised one eyebrow, looking over at his wife.

“Does your new workout regimen have anything to do with Jared’s spread in Men’s Health?”

“No.” Jensen protested immediately.

“Jay…”

“Maybe,” he sighed, throwing the towel on the counter, then he turned, leaning against it. “Am I...soft?”

“Soft? I think you are the kindest, most generous, loving man I’ve ever known,” Y/N replied honestly. “I am lucky I found you and even luckier that you love me.”

“Well, thank you for that, babe, but I was asking about my physical appearance,” Jensen hung his head, his voice getting quieter as he talked. “Do I have a ‘dad bod’?”

“Jensen Ross Ackles, you listen to me right now. You have never looked better and you are in the best shape of your life. You just completed a 15 year run on the most successful sci-fi television show in history, you are stepping into an iconic role that you were hand-picked for, and if a ‘dad bod’ looks like this, then yes!” Y/N gestured to her husband while rambling on trying to make her point. “No, you know what? Come here, come sit down with me. Bring the wine.”

Y/N sat down with her laptop, intent on showing her husband the proof he needed to believe her and believe in himself. Jensen sat down next to her, handing her a fresh glass, as she pulled up photo after photo on the screen.

“Do you see what I see?”

“No, I see a skinny kid from Texas with no hair on his chest and barely-there abs,” he scoffed.

“Okay, you still don’t have chest hair, but what else do you see?” She prompted him again.

“A pudgy mid-section and that was before I turned 40!”

“Do you want to know what I see?”

“You’re biased.”

“You’re damn right I am, but I do know that your fans, the Dean-girls, well, they’re not wrong. Did you know that according to several fan sites, you and Dean have way more fans than Jared and Sam? And are you telling me that millions of people are wrong?”

“Millions?” he asked skeptically.

“Okay, well, maybe not millions, but a lot! But I see a man that is in better shape than he was twenty years ago. I see a skinny kid from Texas too. But I also see a man who now is in the best shape of his life and way sexier than that skinny kid.. What is it that you’re always telling me when I complain about my baby muffin top or my thunder thighs?”

“That bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and beauty isn’t defined by your body shape; it’s defined by your soul and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Okay, and I usually argue with you when you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. We are our own worst critics, you know that. But I see a healthy body and strong arms. Arms that hold me better than any others on the planet. Arms that hold our children and comfort them when they are hurt. I see a sexy mind and a stunning soul, one that was made for me.”

“Okay, I think that is enough wine for you,” Jensen reached for the glass, but you moved it out of his reach.

"Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

“Fine, it could have been a smile.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, my exceptionally sexy wife made a pretty good point.”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, she may also be the smartest person I know. She always knows just what to say when my dumbass is being, well a dumbass.”

“Yeah, I am pretty damn smart. Because you know what else I did? I made arrangements for your visiting parents to keep the children overnight so they can swim until they pass out.”

“Wow, that is pretty smart. You know, I’ve been working out and I bet I could carry you all the way upstairs without breaking a sweat.”

“Oh, you’re on Ackles, but you are wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“We will definitely be working up a sweat!”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @manawhaat @crashdevlin @fangirlxwritesx67 @winchesterprincessbride @waywardbeanie @jensengirl83 @anathewierdo3467 @winchest09 @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @waywardbaby thewinchesterandreidwhore @anathewierdo

The Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @adoptdontshoppets @supernatural-jackles @fandom-princess-forevermore @akshi8278 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deanwanddamons @rockhoochie

#BTZ #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles flangst #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fanfiction

191 notes · View notes

impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Jensen Ackles: Tired

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Wife!Reader, Jared x Gene

Pov: Jensen

warnings; Panic, anxiety, guilt, collapsing, more panic, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, Swearing

Summary(request): Ouuuuh I'm sooo happy that you write for Jensen!!! Can I pleaaase request a one shot of Jensen x wife reader in which she collapses because she's been exhausted taking care of the kids and he feels guilty that he didn't notice and he's determined to help more ?? I'm so sorry if this sound dumb. No pressure if you don't wanna write it.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N- This wasn’t a stupid idea, I know that this had taken me a bit of time to write, so I’m sorry about that. I absolutely love this idea. Thank you for requesting/anon it. (Your eye color: Y/E/C) @firefly-graphics for divider

Jensen masterlsit:

Main Masterlsit

"Kids I need you two to sit in the living room while mommy cleans the kitchen." I heard Y/n say from my upstairs office. I was currently working on my second album for Radio company.

I had been up here for the past couple of days. Once or twice a day I'd hear Y/n get louder than normal, saying something to the twins about how they needed to stop fighting with each other.

Our twins, Ada and Jay. A boy and girl. They were bundles of energy, they run up and down the halls. There little feet leaving loud echos around our home.

"Yes, mommy will turn on Disney. You want to watch frozen two again?" I heard Y/n say. This was the first time that it sounded like the two littles had agreed on something.

A moment later I heard the soft intro music of frozen two. I smiled and continued to work on the new lyrics for our second album. We had promised our fans that the album would be out relatively soon. By soon I mean within a month's time.

I needed a break, I wasn't able to get anything done on an empty stomach. So I made my way down our elegant stairs. I saw the littles entranced by the tv, they didn't even notice me come down the stairs.

I let them be through thinking about how long it had taken for Y/n to get them to calm down. Mostly how much it had taken Y/n to get them to be quiet.

I shuffled my way into the kitchen,, passing behind Y/n as she cleaned a day's worth of dishes. I wrapped my hands around her mid-section, whispering in her ear, "Hey my love." She leaned into my touch and took a rather deep breath closing her eyes.

"Hey honey, what are you doing down here? I thought you had your album to work on." She said trying to unscrew one of Ada's sippy cups. I took the cup out of her hands and unscrewed the top with ease.

"I needed some food in my belly. Looks like you've got those kids preoccupied."I said release her from my hug and slipping a look into the fridge.

"Yeah I do, they've got me going in circles." She said finishing up by putting the cleanish dishes into the dishwasher. She turned to face me, motioning me to grab her water bottle from the fridge.

"I can see that, but hey remember you've got it. If you need anything come get me okay." I said giving her a chat kiss and walking back through the kitchen up the stairs.

I heard the music for the ending of frozen two come and go, but I could smell the start of dinner. I was done with working on the new album, so I changed into some more comfy pants, and went downstairs.

The twins were asleep on the large couch in our living room. Y/n was humming to a song in her head, I stood there and watched her. She danced around, cutting up peppers and messing with the oven for chicken.

She turned around and let out a loud shriek, "Jensen, you scared me!" She said with a huff. "You should be more careful, hell I could have thrown this knife at you." She said setting the knife down.

While I was staring at my beautiful wife I noticed a few things. Her skin seemed dull, I could see the bags under her eyes, her dancing wasn't a full-motion like it usually is. She stops and takes deeper breaths.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked her out randomly. Giving me an odd look, a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm feeling fine. Why?" Y/n asked me. "I was just wondering, that's all baby," I said kissing her cheek.

"I'm going to wake up the twins okay, if not they'll be up till five in the morning," I said, smacking her ass playful. The roll of Y/n eyes was the last thing I saw before I made my way into the living room.

"Ada, Jay. It's time to wake up." I said softly, Ada stirred in her sleep and Jay didn't even move. Ada slept like my wife does. Very softly, now on the other hand Jay sleep like a rock like his father.

"Ada, it's time to get up. Mommy is making dinner, you want dinner?' i said coaxing her to wake up. Jay still laid asleep, Ada's eyes fluttered open, "Dada!" "Hey baby girl, did you sleep good?" I asked her, hugging her.

She wrapped her small arms around my neck and looked at me with a wide smile, "Yes I sep good." She said, she giggled. A giggled much too Y/n's. "Do you want to help me get your brother up?" I asked Ada.

"Do we have to wake him up." She said a frown replacing her smile. "Yes, I'm afraid we have to," I said smiling. "Fine Daddy."She said unwrapping her arms from my neck and climbing next to her brother, she patted his shoulder.

"Jay, brotha daddy says you gotta wake up now." She said going from patting his shoulder to poking his side. "JAY! WAKE UP!" Ada screamed at the top of her, "Hey, hey there's no need to scream at him, baby." I said interru[ting her screaming session.

"Here let daddy show you how to wake him up," I said with raised eyebrows. "Jay, mommy says you'll get dessert if you wake up and eat all your dinner," I said rubbing small circles into Jay's back.

He opened his eyes and looked back and his sister and me. His eyes reminded me of his mother's Y/E/C eyes. Ada's eyes were the color of him, dark forest green, and when we went outside to play or to the beach, Ada's eyes turned to a light green something resembling an emerald.

All of a sudden my thoughts were interrupted when I heard the crash of something from in the kitchen. I rushed to go see, worried about Y/n. When I rushed in she was collapsed on the floor. "Y/n, honey," I said walking over to her. "Y/n... Y/n are you okay?" I questioned.

"Mommy?" I heard Ada and Jay say at the same time. I needed to make a quick decision. So I called Jared. Telling him that Y/n had collapsed on the floor.

Moments later I heard the door open and shut. "unc Jar." I heard Jay say, then I heard the click on heels behind him he had brought Gen with him. "Jared let me take the kids, you go help Jensen and get Y/n some washcloths a glass of cold water. Okay," Gene said.

"Hey, Auntie." Heard Ada say. "Come on kiddos let's go get some stuff from y'alls bedroom." I heard. Trying to keep Y/n's head elevated. "Hey, Jensen, What happened?" He asked. "I don't know Jar, One minute she was fine and she was cooking dinner, and next I heard a crash while getting Ada and Jay up."

"Jensen just breathe." He said, " How can I relax Jared, my wife.. my wife is lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. And I don't know how to help her." I said running a hand down my face.

"Jensen. Stop take a breath. Got get some washes clothes to get them cold as you get them. And come back here, okay." he said patting my shoulder.

I ran up the stairs passing the twins' rooms, gene gave me a sympathetic smile and was packing the twins' bags. It's a good idea take the kids to your house for a moment. I ran into our closet grabbing far too many, running back down the stairs.

Missing a few at the bottom almost tripping over my large stature. "Get them wet we're going to put some on her forehead, neck, and wrist. Get that glass of water too." Jared said.

Eventually, after Gene had taken the kiddos to their home, Jared and I moved Y/n to the couch. She started to wake up, her eye fluttering open. It was more than too nice to see her Y/E/C. Jared excused himself telling me that they would keep the kids for the rest of the night.

"We'll keep the kiddos, give Ada, Jay, Shep, and Odette a surprise a sleepover," he said patting my shoulder then left. We sat in silence for a moment.

"Wait?" Y/n said first. "I asked if you were okay," I said. "Yeah you did and I wasn't lying." She said, "So, why did this happen then, Y/n?" I questioned her.

Again we sat in silence, "Because Jensen, I feel like I'm doing this all by myself, you're so sucked into finishing the damn album you've left your wife, your wife to deal with two toddlers." She said arguing with me. She took the washcloths off her forehead and wrists throwing them onto the coffee table.

I hadn't realized how much weight I had put on her shoulders. I guess I kind of just expected that she could take it. "I... I guess I didn't realize that I was doing that." I said.

"No, you didn't. You know what just forget it, okay Jensen. I need to finish dinner and then get Ada and Jay from Gene." She said. Truing to get up, but ending up bouncing back onto the couch.

"No, look. I know that I was forgetting about things. And forgetting that you can't take this all by yourself. Yes, you're my wife and you mean the world to me. You don't realize the amount of panic that went through me when I heard that crash. I understand now.' I said

The tears starting to come out. 'You don't know what I would do without you. I wouldn't know what to do without my wife, my beautiful, strong, amazing wife. I'm sorry I fucked up. Please, Let me fix it." I said begging with my wife now.

She stared at me, reaching her hand over to my face wiping the stray tears that had fallen while I was talking away. "Okay, I guess we both fucked up. I didn't say anything to you, and you wouldn't have been able to know." She said scouting closer to me, her hands staying on my cheek.

With her warm hand still on my cheek, I leaned into the touch. "I'll finish dinner, you, Y/n you relax please." I said pleading. She shook her head, "How about we do it together." Y/n offered I smiled and grabbed her hand bringing her up from the couch. "I like that idea," I said.

Going in for a much-needed kiss. She meddled into it. "We can take advantage of the littles being at Gene, and Jared." She whispered against my lips. "Naughty," I whispered back. "Dinner first though," I said stripping the moment of its erotic nature.

"Okay, baby But you've got dish duty for a while," Y/n said her hand sliding up and down my chest.

Completed On: 04/25/2021

Taglist: @akshi8278 @wonderfulworldofwinchester @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @fofisstilinski @doctorlilo

128 notes · View notes

arhvste · 4 years ago

Text

OIKAWA TOORU - WALLET PHOTOS

- summary - you knew your husband was a romantic but you didn’t know he was this much of one - fluff (x f reader)

a vent one, i didn’t like my previous statement but long story short, today i found out i’m unable to have kids which has caused my parents some upset so i’ll be a little less present this week as i try and help them let it sink in, thank you <3

being the wife to a pro volleyball player had it’s ups and downs. yes, you were incredibly proud of every single one of his achievements and you were ridiculously happy that he was living his dream but, the time you spent together was limited. with him travelling and training so much and you being restricted to stay at home a little longer due to the fact you and oikawa shared a 3 year old son together, you didn't get to see as much of him as you did when you first started dating in your third year of high school.

oikawa had suggested the name ‘kosuke’ which meant ‘rising sun’ as he was adamant about giving his first son a name which somehow related to his best friend and practically brother, haijime who’s name meant ‘beginning’. of course you agreed as haijime had been with you both through many experiences while you were together, and it was him you owed for keeping your husband in check all those years.

haijime cried the first time he met your child and his name was explained to him.

“shut up shittykawa.” the man sniffled as you handed your husband’s best friend and your child’s new uncle, your son to hold for the very first time.

since your child’s birth, haijime had made sure to spend time with your family and drop by even when oikawa was out of town so he could bond with his technical nephew.

today was one of those days. oikawa was training as the hours of the day dragged on and yourself and haijime were sat on the sofa basking in the warm sun that drifted into your living room through the clear windows. your son was left to his own devices babbling and grabbing at his own feet only to tumble over and attempt to keep grabbing them.

you sighed as haijime turned to you with a small smile.

“stressed?”

you hummed and turned to the man.

“not particularly, just miss him.”

haijime let out a quick ‘ah’ and nodded as he turned to look at your son.

“i know he misses you too so don’t tell him i told you this but, he carries a few pictures of you and kosuke around and shows them off wherever he goes.”

you snorted as threw your head back slightly.

“really?”

“mhm, keeps a few candid photos in his wallet and shows them off at any chance he gets. he thrives in attention and probably feeds off of the compliments your sons pictures receive.”

you smiled. that sounded like something he would do.

you and haijime spent a few more hours catching up to which your son spent majority of the time pulled up on his uncles lap as he grabbed and giggled whenever haijime spoke and smiled down at him.

eventually the sun began to set and haijime bid a farewell to you and your son and told him to say hi to his best friend for him and let him know that he’d drop by whenever he’d next be around. you nodded and waved at the man until he was out of your sight down the pretty and peaceful street.

turning to kosuke you offered the boy a warm smile to which he happily returned.

“oh you are so a mommy’s boy!” you laughed as you carried your son to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

kosuke was sat in his highchair as he mindlessly watched whatever was catching his attention on the tv that played in the background of you cooking. his laugh and incoherent noises faded into the background as you cut vegetables and admired the view from outside your back garden.

you were so focused elsewhere, you failed to hear the sounds of the door opening and footsteps approaching. kosuke’s babbling and excitement got even louder as the sounds of your husband grew closer but you ignored them and stayed in your own little world to which oikawa immediately pulled you out of when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“t-tooru! you idiot i have a knife!” you whined as your husband laughed and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“sorry sorry i couldn't help myself, but you’re so talented i knew you wouldn't harm yourself anyway.”

you frowned as you continued to cut vegetables as oikawa stayed wrapped around you.

“you’re so beautiful y/n, how’d i end up with you?”

“relentless flirting and clinging until i said yes.”

“mean y/n!”

you snickered as you put the knife down so you could turn to face your husband properly.

he smiled as he studied your pretty features as the golden sunlight enhanced your features only making you look even more unreal to oikawa who only sighed in happiness.

pressing a soft kiss that held nothing but warmth and pure love, oikawa cupped one side of your cheek and let his other hand lean against the kitchen counter ultimately trapping you against him.

“aren’t you going to say hi to your own son?” you mused as oikawa pulled away.

“of course i am! just gotta save the best till last right?” he teased as you playfully slapped his chest.

approaching his son, oikawa had a giddy smile to which your son returned back. his strong arms pulled kosuke from out of the high chair as he gently threw him into his arms and pulled him close to his chest.

“how’s my handsome little boy been today? been good for mommy and uncle haijime today have you?”

you smiled as you watched your two favourite boys interact.

“very good. he missed his daddy though.” you commented as you poured the vegetables into the ramen stock.

“daddy missed you too my little prince! and - ” oikawa carried his son over to where you were standing.

“daddy missed his princess too.” he smiled as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

“save it for the bedroom.” you groaned as oikawa laughed.

he pulled away as he looked at yourself and then his son.

“hey y/n, thank you.”

you quizzically raised an eyebrow.

“for what?”

“for this. for my son. for marrying me. for everything really.”

you blushed at his upfront words and put the lid on the boiling pot before facing your two boys.

“yeah? and thank you.”

this time oikawa blinked in surprise.

“me? for what?”

“for asking me to marry you, for bringing our son into the world with me, for letting yourself be happy and doing something you love, for showing off pictures of me and kosuke for every stranger you meet, for -”

“-huh? what was that?”

“for asking me to marry you?”

oikawa whined as he tugged at the hem of your sleeved.

“y/n! who told you i show off pictures, i bet it was the old lady down the street who always walks her dogs when I'm out for my run she-”

“haijime.”

oikawa let out a dramatic gasp to which his son fell into a little fit of giggles at his fathers childish behaviour.

“i’ve been betrayed!”

you laughed as you pecked his cheek before walking past him to grab another kitchen utensil.

“i think it’s cute.”

oikawa pouted before carefully placing your son back into his highchair.

“...you wanna see them?”

he didn't even give you the chance to reply as he strode back to the hallway to dig through his bag to find his wallet before returning to you with a proud smile.

opening up, oikawa showed you the selection of photos he carried around with him all day.

“haijime only told me you carry a few! you have a whole albums worth of pictures in here tooru!”

“i do not! they’re all my favourite ones look!”

oikawa shuffled through the photos showing you the various ones he kept.

there was one of yourself and tooru at your wedding, one when you were giving birth to kosuke, one of you holding kosuke for the very first time, one of you and kosuke sat behind the birthday cake on his first birthday, one of you napping in your bed with kosuke cuddled up to you and a large array of just random shots of yourself and your son individually.

“see, all my favourite ones.”

you took a photo off the small pile and smiled. your husband really was just a big romantic, that much hadn't changed.

the photo fell out of your grip between your fingers and you went to pick it up off the floor. oikawa quickly said to “wait!” but you’d already seen it.

on the back of the photo, oikawa had written a small caption on the back.

“y/n pleaseeeee!” he whined as he tried to swipe it before you only to lose to you.

your eyes widened at the neat writing on the back.

‘my beautiful wife and our little star on his first time watching me play a match.’

you smiled widely as oikawa blushed in embarrassment.

“you weren't meant to see that.”

“well, i’m glad i did... do they all have little captions?”

oikawa sighed before nodding curtly handing you the small pile.

each photo had a little description of what was going on in the photo and it made your heart warm as oikawa watched you with a small look of adoration twinkling in his honey pooled eyes.

“tooru, you’re such a sap, but i really really do love you.” you laughed as oikawa mumbled in embarrassment that his wife had been exposed to an even sappier side to him.

“i like to be reminded of when and where these were taken, not that i need to but when i’m old and my memory begins to falter, i’ll have these little descriptions to help me remember the blessings you’ve given me and how lucky i am.”

if oikawa tooru wasn’t making your heart speed up before he certainly was now.

you placed the photos neatly in a pile on the counter before throwing your arms around your husband who happily pulled you into him.

“i love you so much y/n, and i love kosuke just as much. of course i want to carry these photos around all day, it’s like i have a little piece of you by my side when i can't be with you.”

you pulled your head into his chest listening to his heartbeat.

“i spoke to my coaches and well, i’ll be spending a little more time with you, that's why i was home so early today.”

“how comes?” you mumbled into the cotton of his shirt he'd changed into after a quick shower after his training.

“haijime told me you’d been missing me a little more so i spoke to the coaches and they'd noted that i’d been doing particularly well recently and granted me a more flexible schedule since we don't have any actual games coming up until two months time.”

you smiled and let out a little sigh in satisfaction.

“you didn't have to.”

“well y/n, i did. and you know why? i want to expand that little pile of photos i have and i can't do that when i’m not there to take any new ones.”

“you are such a sap!”

“your sap though.”

the two of you stood there in the dim rays of sunlight peaking through the window of your spacious kitchen listening to nothing but the sounds of the tv still going on in the background and your son’s noises of amusement watching his parents embrace right next to him.

“i’m still going to kick haijime for telling you though.”

“no you won't.”

“...no i won't.”

#oikawa torū #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa fanfic #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenario #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfic

472 notes · View notes

supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years ago

Text

Catching Feelings

Pairings: Marcus Moreno x nanny!reader

Warnings: Smut +18, fluff, angst, mutual pining.

Summary: After your sex filled dream about your new boss, your about to meet his daughter. This isn’t going to be awkward at all, right?!

*As always comments and reblogs appreciated*

Chapter 2:

The evening arrived sooner than anticipated. As the car that Marcus had sent round for you pulled into the drive, you find yourself gaping at the beautiful rustic home. You get out of the car and make your way to the front door, your nervous, which isn't helped by the fact you had illicit thoughts about Marcus last night. Oh god! Those hands and the thought of them slipping between your legs. No! Focus. You ring the door bell. Your lost in thought when a voice startles you

"Oh thank god your here, come in quick. Can you cook?"

"Uh.....yeah I'm not bad at it. I make a mean chicken alfredo"!

"Fuck.....sorry sorry.....Missy I didn't just say that."

“Is everything ok?”I say looking towards the kitchen. Missy grabs me by the hand and pulls along. I’m greeted to the sight of pure chaos. Marcus is hunched over the sink, seemingly in defeat and I can’t help myself I let out a laugh. He turns around with lightening speed, his hand goes to scratch the back of his head. Something he must do when he’s nervous. I catch a tinge of pink on his face.

“He’s a disaster in the kitchen, seriously you should see what he does to eggs.” I turn to Missy

“Ok, here’s the plan. How about me and you clean up this mess and then you can help me cook something up?” Shrugging her shoulders she says “sure.”

“Uh.. I will just..”

I turn to Marcus “ you….will go relax and we will call when foods ready.”

“Are you sure, I feel bad.”

“Dad just go.”

Holding his hands up in defeat “ ok ok, I know where I’m not wanted.” With Marcus gone Missy turns to you “ok let’s get to it.”

***

With the kitchen clean you fish out the ingredients to do your chicken Alfredo, explaining each step to Missy as you go.

“Is it always this chaotic at dinner or was that just for my benefit you say with humour in your voice. Missy let’s out a snort.

“Oh no that’s pretty much how it around here. My mom. Used to do the coming and since she’s gone dad tries his best but… I don’t know. My abuela normally cooks.” You see she is getting sad talking about her mom so you change the subject.

“Ok looks ready, give your dad a shout”

You all sat together around the table. “This is delicious, you are amazing.”

“Oh …thank you”

“Missy is right, this is the best meal I’ve had in a long time, really thank you. Also maybe don’t tell my mom I just said that.” You laugh at the fact that this grown man, and a heroic no less is still afraid of mom. Catching his eyes, his gaze is searing into you, you look away quickly trying to distract yourself . Standing you go to clear the table but are stopped with a hand on your wrist. Looking up you meet those warm brown eyes again. “No, you’ve done more than enough tonight. Leave all the cleaning to me and Missy.You can go sit in my study and I’ll bring you a glass of wine. Oh it’s just down the end of the hall.”

“Um… ok thank you.” Once you arrive into his study you can’t help but notice all the pictures he has. One in particular catches your eye. It’s one of Marcus kissing his wife the day Missy was born.

“I love that picture.” You jump slightly having not expected him to be there. “ I’m sorry I wasn’t snooping I just..”

“It’s ok, if your going to be living here you should know about our family.” You look up at him surprised “does that mean I got the job?”

“You we’re amazing tonight” he says moving closer, so close you can feel the warmth coming off his body. “Plus you have the Missy deal of approval, which really is the most important thing.” It’s as if she knew her name has been mentioned. She came bustling down the stairs all kitted out for bed. She comes up to you and without eating wraps you in a hug.

“I’m so happy your going to be living here with us, and thank you again for the nice food.” With that she ran back up the stairs to bed. Marcus gestures for you to sit.

“You have a beautiful home” you say looking around the room.

“It is…beautiful.” Clearing his throat he takes a seat beside you, leaving a comfortable amount of space between you. Your not sure if your relieved or disappointed. You make conversation by asking him about his wife. He takes a sip of wine before he speaks.

“It’s been four years since she passed. It was a car accident, drunk driver, she died instantly. He suddenly go quiet and stares at the floor like it’s the most fascinating thing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned her.” “It’s ok, it’s only fair you know these things. Enough about me, tell me what makes you thick?”

“Me, oh gosh. I suppose family really. It’s why I jumped at this opportunity, I love children. It’s probably why I want a big family of my own one day.” He’s looking at you that way again. There’s something behind his eyes, you think it’s admiration.

“ I feel the exact same way. Everything that I do, it’s for Missy. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s a wonderful kid, you should be really proud.”

“Thank you.” Your suddenly aware that you both have somehow moved closer and your breath catches when you look into those brown eyes. A bolt of confidence course through you and you lean towards him. Marcus mimics your actions. As you inch closer you close your eyes. He whispers your name and you can’t tell if it’s a promise or a warning. Your still dreaming when he spills his wine all over you. “I’m so sorry here let me get something to dry that up” he’s says as he leaves the rooms be arrives back with a towel, and a change of clothes. “ I’m afraid this is all I have.” You look down to the clothes he has and notice there his own, a t shirt.

“No, thank you these are perfect.” With that he leaves you to change while he goes and refills the wine. When he walks back in he almost drops the glasses. His eyes rake over your body and he feels himself getting hard his thick cock straining in his pants. Seeing you there in his clothes is doing things to him. It’s making him almost feral. He wants to posses you. He is brought out of his thought when you move to take the glass from him.

***

You spend hours chatting getting to know each other when you look at his clock. “Oh god, I better go, I didn’t realise the time”. You go to stand.

“You can stay, I mean here, in the spare room, if you want?” Thinking it over for just a moment “that would be great actually.”

“Ok I can show you where to go.” As you enter the room you see a large king size bed, and the images from your dream flood your mind.

“I want you to ride me baby.”

“Y/N?”

“Sorry did you say something?” “ I said you can start moving your stuff in whenever you like.”

“Brilliant.”

Your unconsciously biting your lip and when you meet his gaze you notice his eyes are fixed on your mouth. You run your tongue along the bottom lip,knowing he is watching you. He clears his throat “ok uh…I guess I’ll let you get settled for the night”. He makes to leave when you say

“You could stay here too!” He stops suddenly turning to look at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Afraid you have ruined everything you say “I’m so sorry, forget I said anything, thank you again…” Your rambling is cut short as his presses his lips to your hungrily. His hands trace the curve of your body, slipping under your top to grab your breast. You let out a moan. Suddenly he pulls away and rests his head to yours. “Are you sure you want this, I won’t be able to stop once we start.” “I’ve thought of nothing else since we met yesterday. Please Marcus, I need you to fuck me.”

He wastes no time and pushes you onto the bed removing the sweatpants he lent you earlier along with the t-shirt. Your laying on the bed in nothing but your underwear and he can’t take his eyes off you. “Your gorgeous.” “Marcus you have too many clothes on” you say with a slight pout. Stripping himself so he is completely bare before you,you gulp as you take in his thick cock. Will that even fit! He crawls on top of you and you moan when his obvious desire for your comes in contact with your core. You rock against him. He rolls onto his back pulling you with him so you are now straddling him. His hands run up and down your spine sending sparks of electricity through you. He moves to unclasp your bra “you won’t be needing this anymore.” Your nipples grow hard as they meet the cool air and you let out a gasp as he runs his tongue over its peak. Your growing inpatient now so you quickly remove your thong and line him up at your entrance. Slowly you sink down on him and his head pushes back into the pillow as he groans in pleasure. “Jesus, your so fucking tight.” You pick up your pace as you ride him letting out a loud moan. He puts a hand over your mouth “you gotta be…quiet…don’t….want…Missy..to…hear us” He look down to where your joined watching as his cock moves in and out of you “this pussy was made for me, isn’t that right baby?” Your unable to speak as your body is thrown into ecstasy. Without warning he flips you over and begins pounding into. He can feel his balls tighten as he nears his release. “Where…do ..you want..me?” “Inside, I’m clean and on the pill.” With that he fills you up, you can feel his release dripping out of you. He moves off you and makes his way into the bathroom. Arriving back with a cloth to clean you up. He gets back into bed beside you and wraps his arm around your waist. “That is not how I pictured tonight going at all.” You laugh “me either.” “You should get some sleep” he says and you feel your eyes getting heavy as you give in to the tiredness.

The next morning you wake to sunlight shining on your face. As you turn over you realise your alone. You put your hand on the side Marcus was and it’s cold, meaning he’s gone a while. You flop back onto the bed and put your hand on your forehead. Oh god what have I done.

Previous/next

Tagging:

@lunaserenade , @asta-lily , @maievdenoir , @librariantothejedi , @seasonschange-butpeopledont , @elinedjarin , @day-off-inkyoto @toomanystoriessolittletime

If you want to be added or removed please let me know.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #marcus moreno x female reader

46 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 3 years ago

Text

19 - The Dynamic Duo V Montreux

Hello folks. I was sitting around twiddling my thumbs and I thought I would give the old hard drive a clean up, so before I dump a load of rubbish I thought I'd better answer these before I throw everything in the recycle bin. Let's start with a lady from New Jersey who goes by the name of Dorothy who gave me a very interesting offer for the next time I'm in New York. If you're reading this Dorothy, could you send Jacky your email address so I can reply to you. I've just opened up a "secret" Hotmail account so I can send replies without pestering the lovely Mrs Smith all the time, and to test it I went to the guestbook and picked a few names at random. Maybe I should reply to the irate drummer, but if I do that he'll just reply to me and the girls in the office will miss out on laughing at him as well. Staying with the skin bashers for a mo, Ron Hansen in Madison is a drummer, and said he liked my jokes and reckons Mr Irate uses three sticks, two in his hands and one up his arse (his words not mine). Would I be correct in saying your a Zep fan Ron? Today's question is, "What do you get if you cross a drummer with a roadie?" The answer is a stupid roadie.

Moving on, last time around I mentioned a drink which we consumed in Brazil, and the charming Sonia and Dina informed me it was called Caipirinha, and a pleasant little tipple it was to. Somewhere in Australia there is a lady called Karen who is listening to the Offspring CD non-stop, so I'm gonna have to try and answer her question as she has such great musical tastes, even though she wants to know the..........(flashing lights, fireworks, drum roll) Hoover Salesman Story. ARGHHHH. Its actually a very short tale, and I think it's quiet boring but it seems to have grown in stature over the years, and as always I'm gonna drag it out and start from the first skiing expedition that I ventured on with RT.

Having checked my trendy little biog mag, I reckon the year is 1980, and the dynamic duo are in Montreux putting the finishing touches to Fun in Space and we have a few days off before a tour starts in Zurich when Rog says, "Let's go skiing." He had skied a few times before and was ok at it, but I had never put a pair of skis on in my life. I said, "Lets go, but you ski and I'll just get pissed." He then went on about what a buzz it is and how I would love it, etc. As we were touring soon our American crew had to fly out, so I called up Jim Devenney and told him to come over a couple of days earlier cause we were gonna ski. Jim is a great skier and was on the first flight available and I picked him up at Geneva airport ready for some fun. That night we hit the town and have too many drinks and Rog goes off to bed semi early, while Jim and myself sat out on the jetty of Duckingham Palace with a ghetto blaster, Derek and Clive tapes, and a vat of wine singing disgusting songs at full blast, which must have echoed over to France. Suddenly we hear a French voice screaming at us and we have no idea what he was saying so we carried on goofing around, and the next thing I hear is a huge splash as Devenney falls in.

Let me assure you that a drunk trying to get a drunk out of Lake Geneva is not an easy task, but we succeed and head back to DP and retire to our rooms. I'd just got into bed when I hear a crash and go to investigate, only to find JD had gone in the wrong room and was trying to get into a baby's cot, and getting him out of there was harder than getting him of the lake.

Next day Roger, Dave Richards, his wife Collette, Jim and myself set off to Zermatt, and on arrival we stock up on skis, passes and other skiing paraphernalia (big words now!) Dinner, drinks and off to bed. Next morning we're up and ready to go, and thinking I'll never ski again after this I refuse to waste money on a ski suit, so I wear jeans. My second wrong move, the first was agreeing to go. The hotel owner wouldn't let us leave the hotel without first drinking a couple of Sambuccas, not my idea of a good breakfast, eggs, bacon, tea, toast and Italian liqueurs, but who are we to refuse. Next I've got to try and walk in those godamn boots, and we eventually arrive at the top of the Matterhorn.

The OK skiers, RT and Dave set off on their own, Collette begins a very slow trip down while JD tells me he'll stay and teach me. On go the skis, and down I go, flat on my arse. Up I get and I'm off, for all of about 2ft before I'm down again. This is not any fun. After a couple more tumbles my great mate Jim said, "If you're gonna f*** around I'm going." And thats the last I saw of him all day. Thanks pal. I'm standing there watching people ski and think, "It can't be that hard. If you stand like this, lean like that, you can ski." So I stand and lean in the correct positions and I'm away, screeching down a mountain with only one very small problem, I have no idea how to turn or stop, so as I'm flying past Collette, and she reckons I looked very worried, I yelled for some advice and all she said was, "DIVE." Sound advice, so thats what I do, and by now I'm getting wet. I wait for her and then we set off together, the blind leading the blind, with me diving at the slightest bit of speed or bend in the piste. A million years later we eventually reach the bottom of this awful slope and it's finally over. Wrong. Theres a T-bar to get on so we wait in line till it's our turn. You're supposed to put the bar just under your bum and it drags you up, but I'm 6ft and Collettes about 5ft 5in, so the bar was either in the middle of her back or around my knees, and no one told me not to sit on the f***ing thing and we bounced around for a while until we fell off. I'm now getting really pissed off with all this, "Get me a helicopter," I demanded from Collete. She told me they don't just send them, you have to be hurt. I replied with, "I'll break my f***ing arm but I've gotta get off this mountain." Realising I'm not getting a copter I light a ciggie and ponder.

We agree to split up and go with someone our own height, so I ended up with a great German guy who was really helpful. Once on the T-bar I can see that it goes way up and I would have to ski back down to base camp, and in case you've forgotten, I can't ski, so I said that I was gonna bail out, and jumped off. I then head of in a straight line to the cable car, skis on the shoulder and wading through 3ft of snow in a pair of very heavy and very cold jeans. What seemed like hours of wading I make civilisation and head to the bar for a triple strength coffee and a triple scotch while everyone gawked at me cause I looked like I had a shower fully clothed. Yeah, I wanna do this again.

Dinner that night was great fun for the others cause they got to take the piss out of me. Their day will come. The rest of the nights activities shall remain sealed away, but a good time was had by one and all. The tour went smoothly and I try and put Zermatt behind me, except Collette, still to this day, takes great delight in telling everyone about it, and everytime she says it she makes me look more and more pathetic.

The next winter appears and I'm at home and the phone rings, "CT, wanna go skiing?" To which my reply was nothing like, "Oh I'd love to you fabulous little drummer boy." I can't believe he talked me into it again, but this time we were gonna do things correctly and go to Aviemore in Scotland and take lessons, this was the saving factor in his plan. So once again we pile into the Range Rover and aim north. We split the driving (for a change) and had a good journey up through the snow covered mountains till we get to the resort. A usual night was on the cards, dinner, drinks and bed, then up bright and early for some lessons and a good day on the slopes. This time we've both got the correct outfits so we head off to where our little group of idiot skiers are. We're all standing in a line, with Rog and me at the end, and each person gets to snow-plough a few feet. These clowns have less idea than my first try, and it's also incredibly cold and we've now got icicles hanging off our hair. It's our turn and we both look like olympic champions, but the only thing wrong with getting it right the first time is that the instructor then turns his attentions back to the start of the line. Here I am once again standing on the top of a mountain, freezing cold with two 'things' stuck on the end of a pair of stupid boots, and I inform His Royal Highness that the next trip away involves sand and sun, no excuses, end of argument. RT agreed that this wasn't much fun and thought my idea worth considering.

We finally heard the two magic words, "Lunch Break." We're gone in search of some good HOT food and a nice beaujolais, and we found both. We also found that the hotel bar had an amazing selection of whisky, and we had to try as many as possible. We're now semi pissed and decide that as we're warm we might as well go back to this lesson even though we are very late, and the instructor looked at us and said, "Where have you two been?" Rog came back with "Trying lots of your wonderful scotch's." He was fine with that answer and we carried on trying to learn something, and would you believe by the end of the day I could actually turn and stop.

Back to the hotel for a nap before dinner. Over a very nice meal and a couple of little drinkettes we agree that it's far to cold here and we'll clear off the next day, so into the bar we go with our earlier mission of trying all the scotch's. We were sitting at a table chatting away and cracking jokes with each other and end up talking to the couple on the next table, swapping skiing stories, needless to say mine were very short, and having a bit of a laugh, when the woman said, "What do you two do for a living?" God knows why, but I said; "We're Hoover salesmen." At first they didn't believe us but we both started going on about the difference between domestic and industrial cleaners, uprights, backpack types, ones you pull along the floor. We went on about the different wattage, suction power, the amount of pressure on Axminsters and Wilton carpets, even a couple of car expressions like overhead this and thats. What the hell do we know about vacuum cleaners? But boy are we good at this. After about 30 mins of utter bullshit the subject finally changed and they wished us all the best with our door to door salesmanship and off they went to bed. We then had to reassure each other what we actually did for a living, had some more drinks and tried to work out how we knew so much about cleaners as both of us have spent most of our lives trying to stay well away from them. We spent the drive back to London having a good laugh about the one day we spent in a Scottish ski resort.

Well that's it folks, the story of a small company, R & C Taylor,..... Hoover Salesmen. I did learn to ski quite well, and whilst in Gstadd doing the Shove it album Spike flew out cause he fancied learning to ski, and the fool asked me to teach him. I wasn't much help because everytime he fell over I burst out laughing cause I kept seeing myself in Zermatt, and Spike looked just as worried and stupid as I did.

Before I go I noticed that Jacky had to get her boiler fixed and said for me not to make a comment, but little things like that spark me off and I remembered that when we were recording in the Townhouse Studios I had a little, no a big affair with the studio chef. Every three months Virgin would do a magazine for all their staff, written by all the heads of various departments, airlines, studios, video, shops, films, etc. and they would say what was going on with their particular section. Alan Douglas, who was chief engineer of all Virgin studios wrote who was recording where, and he wrote, "Queen are in studio 4, and Crystal, their main man is stoking the kitchen boiler." I thought that was hilarious, but Jane went ballistic. That's it for now.

Loadsa luv Crystal (Carpet cleaner to the stars)

#oh i suppose i forgot to queue this!#queen #queen band #roger taylor #roger meddows taylor #spike edney #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

27 notes · View notes