#and then shed just nod with a knowing smile when i told her the answer

[cyoza]

I always remember when my colleague was describing her autistic son and I kept agreeing with the behaviour she found insane and it still took me another 5 years to even be able to engage with a potential diagnosis

[deepestnightcolor]

PLEASE MORE OF SAM FLUFF PLS PLS PLS

ᴀ/ɴ: Thou ask and thou shall receive!~ Thank you so much for your request, love!

I hope this is okay, I've become quite rusty when it comes to fluff. I hope you enjoy! Also, to everyone suffering of pollen allergies - much strength to you. Blondie is suffering with you.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1373 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, just fluff!

☾ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ ☽

The warming rays of the spring's sun tickled your nose the moment you stepped out of your farm house. Spring was about halfway over, but still in its complete beauty.

You looked at your fields with a content look in your eyes. The seeds you had spread over the tilled ground had stretched out their green leaves, some of them would soon be ready to harvest, would need nothing more but a bit more of the tender sun and the water that was coating their complex beauty from the sprinkler already running this morning.

Butterflies were dancing through the air that was drenched in the sweet aroma of nature coming to life and blooming in its bright, cheerful colors, breezes of gentle wind wafting the scent towards you coaxing you to step forward.

A glance to your right made you see that your cows and chickens had found their ways outside by now, hungry mouths and beaks tugging at stems of grass that carried a lush green colour. The bursts of rain that had fallen on the Valley the last few days had done nature a favor, you thought, a smile on your lips.

You picked up the bucket you had brought outside with you, making your way over to their pasture.

"Good morning, ladies," you called out, chuckling as a chorus of moos greeting you in return. Betty and Moonalisa looked great today, and it filled you with a sense of pride to know it was your care that made the bond between you so strong. Scratching the cows' heads, you chatted quietly to them. Told them what had happened to you yesterday. You had seen Sam, you told them. He had taken you out on a date, and you still felt the giddiness of the last night rush through your veins.

Even as you were milking them you chattered about the blond, the twitch of spotted ears giving you the feeling of being listened to by your friends. When the bucket was full, you gave each cow a small treat as you thanked them, bringing the bucket to the shed to fill it in the machine that would make it become cheese in a matter of hours.

It didn't take long for you to enter the coop, greeting Julie and Lana with the same excitement you had done with the cows. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers, listening to the cluckering as the two hens picked at the ground. "You are very pretty today," you told them with a nod, "did you do something with your feathers?"

Cluckering sounds answering you made you chuckle.

Once you had allowed Sam to follow your morning routine because he had woken up as early as you had, and your boyfriend had watched you with an amused smirk on his face. When you had asked him why he looked at you like that, all he gave you was the shrug of his shoulders.

"It's cute how you treat your animals. Makes me appreciate you more, y'know? Shows you care."

He had kissed your head and crouched down to tell one of your hens that her eyes were gorgeous, and the other that she walked with great grace. The compliments seemed so genuine, so warm, they didn't leave you a choice but to kiss Sam right then and there, because you knew you could trust him. Even with silly little things like talking to your animals in front of him.

"I'll check on you again tonight!" You called towards them, your hands filled with the two large eggs you had found in the coop. After putting them in their respective machines, you decided to make your way to town. You had some ggeodes you wanted Clint to break open, and maybe you could visit Sam with a pizza for lunch.

However, the sound of someone sneezing made you raise your brow. That had been a loud sneeze.

You pushed your hands in the pockets of your overall, holding onto the fabric as you tilted your head. Waited. Maybe it was one of your animals? You had heard Moonalisa sneeze once, it had been louder than you would have ever guessed. Or you had just-

ACHOO.

Okay, you had definitely not imagined that, but it hadn't come from behind you, either. With your face still scrunched up in confusion, you walked towards town, perhaps you would find the sneezer there?

But you didn't even have to go so far, because looking to your right, you saw a mess of blond hair and a familiar blue jacket.

Your boyfriend stood hunched over in the field of lowers near the bus stop. A small bouquet was already in his right hand, the other traced through the tender sea of pedals and leaves. "S-"

ACHOO.

The sneeze shook the man's whole body, making him groan out loud. "Fuckin' allergies," his voice grumbled, but it sounded strained. Probably from all the sneezing he had been suffering through.

"I like you, you flowery pieces of death, why can't you fuckin' like me back?"

"Maybe they don't like you plucking them?" You joked, making the blond twirl around to look at you.

His eyes were teary and red, his nose was red, and he seemed defeated. However, a smile spread on his face just a few seconds later.

"Can't be it, they try to kill me even if I don't pluck them," he laughed, leaning down and picking up another flower, tenderly adding it to the bouquet. You watched him, biting down on your lower lip. "Just out of curiosity, why are you in a field of things that kick off your allergy?"

Sam gave you a sheepish grin, mouth open to answer your very valid question, though the sneeze that tore through him was faster. A groan left his mouth as he grimaced, rubbing his eyes and then his nose, only to realize what he had just done. The pollen on his hand led to another sneezing fit. You reached out your hand and slowly pulled him away from the flowers, pulling out some tissues to dab at his teary eyes carefully.

"Because of the tradition," he answered when his breathing seemingly had steadied. "Tradition? What tradition?"

Again, your boyfriend carried this sheepish look on his face.

"That when you wanna date someone, you give them a bouquet."

You looked up at him, your eyebrow lifting in a slight arch. "But...we are dating, aren't we? 3rd of winter. That's when we got together."

Sam nodded and gave you another grin, this time, it was almost shy.

"But I didn't give you a bouquet." It wasn't an explanation. It was a matter of fact, at least that's how it sounded when he said it.

You couldn't help yourself, you never really could around Sam. Around him, your reactions were real. Raw. You laughed and gripped his face carefully, kissing the swollen nose just as gently as you did it affectionately.

"But Pierre sells them, Sam! You didn't have to trigger such a big allergic reaction for me," you whispered, and now it was Sam that rose his brow.

"Those are ugly ass flowers in that bouquet," he began, puffing out his chest, "and who the hell knows how long our dude Pierre has kept those flowers in a random ass drawer, keeping them alive with whatever witchery he has up that ugly sweater sleeve? Nope, no chance, my babe only gets the best- ACHOO."

Sam let out another groan, slowly holding the flowers towards you. "But..I'd be thankful if you took them off my hands...you know. I think you look prettier with them than I ever could, anyway."

You cooed as you looked at your beaten by allergies boyfriend, taking the bouquet and kissing his lips gently. "Yes, Sam," you whispered against them after a moment.

Sam, distracted by the affection inflicted on his lips, looked at you in confusion. "Yes what?"

You grinned, intertwined your fingers. "Yes, I accept the bouquet. Can't let my boyfriend die and then not accept the bouquet now, can I?"

Your boyfriend, now back on track, smiled, pressing a large hand to his chest. "That would have been more cruel than the pollen in spring."

[dixons-sunshine]

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Three | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: Your suspicions regarding the community you were trapped in only heightened with each passing second. Daryl was mad at you, and you had confirmation that you were pregnant. Things couldn't get worse, could it?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, blood and injuries.

Word count: 2.7k.

A/n: I feel like this is all over the place, plot-wise. However, another chapter was highly requested (by a few anons asking about it), so I stuck it out and this was born. I also feel like it ends on an awkward note, but I wanted to end it on a cliffhanger. I don't know if I did it right lol. Anyways, I hope you like this!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89 @jupiter1700 @enlightndone @shadowcitrine @ddamm @caseylicious @celtic-crossbow

“Alright, then.” Doctor Owen Miller tightly secured the bandage around Daryl's wrist. “The bandages should be able to come off in two to three days. The rope burns weren't that severe. You can feel really lucky about that.”

The doctor's suspiciously friendly voice barely reached the archer's ears. His ocean coloured eyes stared off at nothing in particular, his mind desperately attempting to wrap around that one pivotal fact the doctor had accidentally exposed to the unsuspecting father. Due to that fact, about a million thoughts were flooding through his brain—pregnant. You're pregnant. Baby. Father. He was going to be a father. He needed to get you out of there. He needed to keep you safe.

“Liam should be made aware that I expect to see the lady again tomorrow,” Doctor Owen told Mariah, subtly motioning over to you. “With the beating Peter gave her, I want to monitor the baby. I want to ensure that these two don't lose their child due to that asshole's—” The doctor cut himself off and took a deep breath before continuing. “Peter's recklessness. Please bring that to his attention.” With that, the doctor walked towards the door and opened it, momentarily stopping to add one last thing. “I'm off for the rest of day. Don't forget to lock up once your done.”

Mariah nodded as she helped you from the bed, careful not to disturb your injuries. “Of course.” She turned towards you and gave you a hesitant smile. “Ma'am, how are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? There were at least a million answers to that question: Slightly happy. Angry. Sad. Frustrated. But above all else? Overwhelmed. You were truly and undeniably extremely overwhelmed. You now had concrete evidence that you had a life growing within you, and although you were ecstatic at the news, you knew there were far more pressing matters at hand. For one, you were a thousand percent sure that your husband was pissed at you for keeping your pregnancy a secret and insisting on going with him beyond the safety the walls of Alexandria provided. On another note, you were even more certain that the supposed safe zone the two of you found yourselves trapped in wasn't all what Liam was making it out to be. That almost definitely meant that blood would be shed when you and Daryl attempted your escapes.

“Ma'am?” Mariah prompted, snapping her fingers in your face to grab your attention. “How are you feeling?” she repeated the question in a softer tone.

You shrugged and cast your eyes down towards your feet. “Okay, I guess,” you mumbled out weakly, your voice unknowingly snapping Daryl out of his trance and redirecting his fiery gaze to you. “I've had it way worse than this before.”

Mariah chuckled before she took a step back. “I bet,” she began, picking up the tray with the various tools and ointments that were used to clean and fix up your wounds. “You look like a real tough gal. You wouldn't have survived if you didn't get roughed up a couple of times, right?”

“Right,” you agreed in a mutter, your eyes hesitantly moving to meet those of your husband. You flinched a bit when you were met with a glare, but you didn't blame him. You knew he'd be pissed, and rightfully so. You just didn't expect him to be so open about his anger. Well, open by your standards. To the regular eye, his anger would be mistaken for the signature Daryl scowl, but you knew better. This was different. He was angry. And he was angry at you, which made it so much worse.

Mariah placed the tray on one of the tables before turning back to face you and Daryl. However, before she could speak up, a voice could be heard through the room; a voice that you had grown to know and hate, all within a few... Minutes? Hours? You didn't even know at this point.

“Mariah, love,” the voice of your captor, Liam, rung through the air from the walkie talkie that was sat on one of the shelves. “It was just brought to my attention that Doctor Miller is done with the new recruits. Please bring them up to the house for me.”

Mariah sighed, her steadily relaxing demeanour being replaced by that earlier nervous, mouse-like stature she had when you had originally met her. She walked towards the door and opened it. “Please follow me,” she squeaked out nervously, her eyes darting around.

You slowly walked towards her, not sparing Daryl a glance because you didn't want to see the anger behind those beautiful blue eyes of his. Besides, as mad as the archer was at you, he would never let you face that man alone. He would much rather die, that much you knew.

Daryl grumbled to himself and followed behind you, proving your point. Together, in silence, the two of you followed the woman out of the makeshift medical building and up to the big farmhouse you vaguely remembered spotting earlier—the farmhouse Liam had mentioned you and Daryl would be staying in with him. In no time at all, the three of you were walking up the steps of the majestic, white home, and in through the front door.

The inside of the home looked even more beautiful than the outside. It seemed as if though the horrors of the outside world were never heard of for this house. The floors were shining, the walls were decorated with all sorts of artwork, and there was even a television resting in the living room. However, you doubted the object even worked, because you hadn't spotted solar panels or anything that could generate power, so the thing was more of a decoration than anything else.

You were snapped out of your rather unnecessary train of thought by the feeling of someone's hand resting on your shoulder. The touch was all too familiar—it was your husband who was resting his hand on your shoulder. A subtle glance to your left proved your suspicions correct. So your husband didn't hate you. You considered that a win. However, you were confused as to why he felt the need to do that. He rarely did that in public, unless he was trying to comfort you, or to refrain himself from launching a punch in someone's direction. So why would he—

Your thoughts were cut off by the obnoxious sound of an all too familiar British accented voice. “Ah, well would you look at you?” Liam began as he descended down the stairs, his green eyes alight with invitation. However, whether or not it was genuine, you were yet to find out. “You're looking better, Y/N. Doctor Miller did a good job. A shower and a set of fresh clothes will certainly make you look rather ravishing.” Daryl's hand tightened on your shoulder, and you brought your hand to rest over his, a subtle way of trying to calm him down. Liam noticed, however, and sent Daryl a reassuring smile with a raise of his hands. “Woah, there, champ. No need to get all feisty. I already have a lady of my own. I was just making an observation.”

“Observation, my ass. Shouldn't even be lookin' at her, ya stupid fuck,” you heard Daryl mumble under his breath, and you had to refrain from giggling. Daryl wasn't a jealous guy perse, and he certainly wouldn't stop you from befriending other guys, but he definitely had his moments. Although he had other reasons to want to knock this guy out, it was rather cute to know that he didn't want Liam to look at you that way.

Liam, thankfully, was blissfully unaware of the archer's hateful words, instead turning to regard Mariah, who had been quiet during the whole exchange. “Hey, my beautiful girl,” he greeted her, opening his arms as an invitation for a hug.

Mariah hesitantly walked into his arms, tensing slightly when he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. You were sure to make a mental note about that. You didn't know why exactly Mariah was so scared of her husband, but you knew it wasn't good. If his own wife was terrified of him for god knows what reason, you didn't even want to know what he could do to complete strangers.

After he was satisfied with the hug, Liam pulled back and turned back to you and Daryl. He was about to say something until an unknown man barged into the room, breathless and sweating. Liam scowled angrily at the man, swiftly pushing Mariah aside. “Reggie, this better be really fucking important. You know how I feel about being interrupted when interviewing new recruits.”

The man—Reggie—quickly nodded. “I know, I know.” He panted breathlessly and leaned against the wall in an attempt to recapture his breath. “There was a man who demanded to speak to you. He refuses to speak to anyone but the leader.”

Liam stared at Reggie for a few seconds, his face giving absolutely nothing away, until he nodded and turned back to you and Daryl. “Please make yourselves comfortable. I promise I won't be long. Mariah,” he began, turning to his wife and lazily waving towards the door that lead to another room. “Please make our guests something to eat. I'm sure they must be absolutely famished. Oh, and get them something to drink as well.” Liam sent the two of you a smile. “I hope wine is alright. I'd offer up some scotch, but that's really hard to come by and I don't fancy wine that much, you see.”

“Liam!” Reggie exclaimed impatiently. “We got to go!”

“For fuck's sake, alright!” Liam roared loudly, his eyes alight with a fiery glare. He roughly pushed past the man and stormed out of the door, Reggie having to jog behind him to keep up. The door closed behind them with a slam, and just like that, you and Daryl were left alone with Mariah for the second time that day.

Mariah let out a small sigh, and you could see her visibly relax without Liam's presence. It was odd to you that the woman felt more at ease with two complete strangers who could turn around and end up hurting—or killing—her, and it only fueled your reluctance to trust Liam. There was something very off about that man, and you were determined to find out what.

Mariah turned to look at you, her eyes darting between your face and your stomach. “Um, are you sure you want wine? I mean, I don't want to force you to do anything, but—”

“It's okay,” you cut her off, sending her a small, tight-lipped smile. “Water is fine, thank you.”

Mariah nodded and motioned towards the couches. “Please, feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I won't be long.” With that, she scurried off into the kitchen, leaving you and Daryl alone in the living room.

Without the company of others, the air surrounding the two of you got tense very quickly. Neither of you made a move to sit down, but Daryl did move away from you, his warm, comforting touch leaving your shoulder. He refused to make eye contact with you, and it broke your heart. You knew he was mad at you, and he had every right to be, but it certainly didn't mean that it didn't hurt. You were certain it would be up to you to clear the air, and that's what you'd do—whether Mariah heard it or not.

“Daryl—” you began hesitantly, but you were instantly shut down.

“Don't,” he muttered bitterly, his back still turned to you. His shoulders were visibly tensed and even though you couldn't see it, you knew his jaw was as well. He was trying hard not to lash out at you, and you had to give him credit for his self-control.

However, you weren't having any of it. You were nothing if not extremely persistent, so you'd stop at nothing until you'd had a chance to explain yourself. “No, I'm not gonna stop until you've let me speak my mind.”

Daryl whipped around to face you, his eyes finally meeting yours. His eyes were set in a steely glare, but you didn't back down. “Where could ya possibly start explainin' yerself to me?” he spat bitterly. “Yer pregnant and ya kept tha' from me? Ya begged and pleaded to come with me on the run today and put yerself and our baby in danger! Now 'cause'a tha', yer in fuckin' danger. If ya had jus' told me tha' ya were pregnant, maybe things would'a been different. Maybe we would'a been safe back home. Maybe I never would'a suggested the run. Maybe I would'a let Rick come with instead'a ya. Maybe—”

You cut Daryl off by pulling him into a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. He froze for a few seconds, hesitating to return the hug, but ultimately wrapped his arms around you. He rested his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes as he felt the anger drain from his body. He never could stay mad at you. However, it didn't mean that he wasn't still upset that you were in danger.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered against his chest. “I should've told you I was pregnant, I know that. I just didn't want to say anything until I was a hundred percent sure. That's why I wanted to go on that run with you. I wanted to find a few pregnancy test. I guess I could've just asked you to do that, but I didn't want you to freak out. I was... Scared. I was scared that if you knew that I thought I was pregnant, something would go wrong. I don't know what I expected to go wrong, but I just... I promise I was gonna tell you after I knew for sure. You have to believe me. I—”

“Hey, s'okay,” Daryl reassured you, pulling back to look into your eyes. Daryl was feeling all kinds of bad at that moment. You didn't deserve to be treated like that for any reason, especially not by him. You had your reasons for keeping it a secret from him, and he couldn't blame you for it. He was upset, but the two of you could figure that out later. For now, all he wanted to do was get you the hell out of that place, and to do that, he needed a clear mind. “M'sorry fer reactin' like tha'. M'upset ya didn't tell me, but there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it now. We jus' have to figure out a way to get the fuck outta here. We can figure the rest out later, alrigh'?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you practically sprung apart when the door flung open again. However, instead of being met by Liam, you were met by somebody completely different. The man came strutting in like he owned the place. The man stopped and regarded the two of you with an indifferent look. “And you two are?” he questioned, plopping himself down on one of the couches.

You shared a look with Daryl, neither of you making any attempts to answer the question. However, you didn't need to, because Liam soon entered the home as well, sending you and Daryl a suspiciously friendly smile. “Sorry for disappearing, champs,” he began. “He was the one causing an uproar by the gates. This guy can make quite the spectacle when he wants to, don't you, brother?” The two men shared a laugh, before Liam calmed down and regarded the two of you. A look of realization dawned on his face, and he hit his forehead with his palm. “Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce him. This is Lucas Davis, my brother and right-hand man.”

The man—Lucas—sent you a small smirk, his eyes trailing you up and down. And for some reason, you knew that the arrival of this man would only mean trouble.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[seramilla]

Vaggie: What do you mean you knew it?! How?!

Clara: You act a lot like Mama does when she gets growly and protective! Plus you look way too much like mama did when we were alive! I can't believe I was right though! I get to finally be a big sister!

Odette: This explains mama crying...we had all been devastated when we died and thought we'd never get to meet you...But it's nice to officially meet you hermanita.

Carmilla: Sobs and gathers her babies close.

Vaggie hasn't been hugged many times in her afterlife. The first time had probably been Charlie, when her princesa first found the lonely new "Sinner" extremely weak and fighting for her life on the streets of Pentagram City. She'd taken Vaggie home, and nursed her back to health. Her hugs are like a fluffy cloud, or a warm blanket. Welcoming and inviting in their embrace, if not a bit pressurizing and forceful when her bubbly personality starts to come on a little strong.

The second had been Carmilla, of course. Unexpected, and at first overwhelming, it had been entirely different from Charlie's hugs. There had been a sense of protectiveness there, and also a desire to comfort and console. Vaggie had never experienced Carmilla's type of maternal love before -- it was similar to Charlie's way of showing affection, but not controlling or demanding to be felt.

Clara's is somewhere in the middle -- a bit more forceful than she normally likes, but once experienced, Vaggie can't help the lump from forming in her throat. Clara almost threatens to lift her off the ground, she's holding onto Vaggie so hard. Vaggie facilitates it; she has to reach up, but puts her arms around Clara's shoulders. She's standing on tiptoe to do so, but she suddenly wants to be even closer to the girl. She doesn't even care if Clara starts to spin her a little. The demon is happy, and laughing. It starts to rub off on Vaggie, too.

And then Carmilla and Odette are added to the mix, and they're all hugging her at the same time, and wow! Vaggie decides right then there's nothing else like this feeling in the world. Vaggie had once been lost. But now, like the Heavenly song says, Vaggie feels found. Not by one, or even two, but by four entirely different souls who love her, all in their own unique way. Vaggie had never even known there were so many types of ways to be loved. Now that she's had them all, she never wants to let any of them go.

She does have to let go, eventually, however. But of the three of them, Clara is the one who holds on the longest. When she and Vaggie finally step back from each other, there's a genuine smile on both their faces. Vaggie doesn't cry again. It's a near thing, but she's honestly too exhausted to shed any more tears. She's more curious than sad at this point. So before any of them can change the subject, she looks at Clara, because she just has to know.

"How? How did you know?"

Clara laughs again, like Vaggie has just told her a joke, or is trying to pull a fast one on her. When she realizes Vaggie is completely serious, she motions up and down around the angel with her hands, like the answer should be completely obvious.

"Look at you!" Clara exclaims, continuing to motion with her hands. "The hair, the eyes, the way you fight! Even your complexion is the same! Also, you look just like Mama did when she was your age. We had pictures we could show you, if we were still alive...but you'll just have to take my word for it."

Odette steps in, as if to interject, also wanting to say her piece.

"We didn't think much of it when Lucifer asked us to give a sample to see if we were a blood match. Everyone at your Hotel did, too, by the way. Clara said that wasn't what tipped her off...it was just the way Mama acted around you after the fact. She spent an entire day with you at the hospital. You're all she's talked about for days now! Honestly, I feel pretty stupid for not realizing something more was going on here."

Clara nods, and continues on from Odette's line of reasoning. "Yeah! And I overheard Lucifer telling Mama about what Exorcists really are. After that, it was obvious!"

"You didn't tell me that!" Odette accuses her, crossing her arms, and shooting Clara a death glare, like she's just been thoroughly betrayed.

Clara gives Odette a cheeky grin and sticks her tongue out. "You didn't ask!"

Vaggie chuckles, holding her hand to her face to try and hide it from the squabbling sisters. Is this what it feels like, she wonders? To argue? To bond? To throw around silly quips at one another without getting offended, because you know it's all in good fun?

Is this what it feels like, to be sisters?

Carmilla decides to move into the sisterhood circle just then. Maybe it's her maternal instincts doing damage control, putting a stop to Clara and Odette's verbal and physical sparring match before it unfolds on the floor right in front of her. Or maybe she just wants to hug Vaggie some more. Because she does. Vaggie finds she doesn't care about the actual reason. The way Carmilla pulls her into her embrace now is far less strained and awkward, and much more natural, than before.

She falls into it like a habit; like she's been doing it forever. Carmilla's hugs are just as warm as Charlie's. She could definitely get used to this, Vaggie thinks. For the rest of her afterlife, if not longer.

"My girl," Carmilla says softly into Vaggie's ear, starting to choke up all over again, breathing softly into her hair. Seeing the overlord Carmilla Carmine cry for her, with her, will never not be novel for Vaggie.

Carmilla, her mother, is practically lifting the fallen angel off the ground, to draw her in even closer.

"Mi hija. My baby. I'm so glad that I've found you at last. Welcome home, mi hermosa."

"Gracias, Mamá," Vaggie responds, and fuck, if that doesn't sound so odd and foreign rolling off Vaggie's tongue. But it also feels so perfectly normal, and so right. Just like Carmilla, Odette, and Clara's hugs, she could easily get used to saying those things, as well.

Vaggie sends a message to Charlie later that evening, to let her know she's staying at Carmilla's overnight: "Don't wait up for me, hon. We have a lot to catch up on. I'll be back home in the morning. Love you!

Charlie responds with an ungodly barrage of heart and smiley face emojis, followed by an enthusiastic string of letters in all caps: "I LOVE YOU, TOO, SO MUCH, VAGGIE!!! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU, SWEETIE!!!! I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT IT!!! YOU BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING AND NOT LEAVE ANYTHING OUT!!!"

Vaggie smiles. She won't leave anything out. She has a lot of firsts to catch up on with her family in the coming days, so she puts her phone back in her pocket, and takes that first step.

She quite literally has all the time in the world now. But being the impatient individual that she is, she'll see how much of it she can cram into that first night. Carmilla had mentioned some of Clara and Odette's embarrassing baby stories earlier, when they'd all been around the dinner table. Thank Heaven, Vaggie thinks, that she doesn't have any of those.

[starlightsuffered]

First Man

A/N - based off the song by Camilla Cabello

Info - angst, fluff, protective dad, song fic, Timmy’s pov

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said, nervously. I straightened my tie for the millionth time.

“Timothée, everything will be okay,” I soothed him by rubbing his back.

Our eldest daughter’s wedding had finally come upon us. Timothee had always treated our daughter Heaven like she’d come from directly from her namesake.

“I wish I could tell him he doesn’t deserve her,” I growled as I fixed my cuffs.

“You know he does,” she chuckled.

“I know and that’s the fucking problem,” I groaned. “He’s perfect. He likes all the things she does. I’ve never seen her smile so hard. She seems completely satisfied and like life is going to be a lovely adventure, just like I had with you.”

“Well, honey, that’s wonderful, why is that a problem?” My wife asked, kissing my cheek.

“Because if he’s so perfect, she’ll never want to see her dad again,” I sniffled. Then full on blubbering started. I had to sit down as sobs wracked my body. My little girl, my heaven, she wasn’t going to want to be around me anymore. I was so terrified.

“Timothée,” y/n said softly. She sat in my lap and held my tear stained face. She kissed the wet streaks and ran her fingers through my hair. I always calmed when she did this.

“You raised her well. She will want to see her dad as much as she can. You are a good man. Please don’t doubt yourself now. She wouldn’t want you feeling this way. The best thing you can do today is walk her down the aisle with a smile on your face and love in your heart…. For them both.”

“You always know what to say,” I sighed and kissed her forehead.

Finally, it was time. I waited for Heaven to appear. When she did I was blown away. It wasn’t just the dress and professional makeup that made her look like an angel, it was the glow of her happiness, her beaming smile. I knew then that I was giving her into good hands. We would all be fine. Any man that could make my child look like that was a gift and not a curse.

“I’ve seen you cry a lot, but I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you sob like this,” she chuckled through her own tears and wiped at mine.

“Promise me,” I said, gathering her hands in mine and kissing them. “Promise me he’s a good man.”

“I swear on my heart that he's a good man,” she nodded.

“Good, good,” I patted her hands and was unable to speak above a whisper.

“But dad,” she said, making sure to catch my gaze. “The reason I know that he’s good and treats me right, is because you did first. You held me so tight, now someone else can. But you were the first man that really loved me.”

I couldn’t respond. I was too choked up. I pulled her to me and hugged her tight. My last hug before she shed my last name and started her new life,

“They’re about to call you,” whispered the wedding planner.

“You’ve never looked so beautiful. You know you'll always be my little girl,” I told her in a low voice before we started the procession.

“I know Papa,” she answered.

I made it down the aisle without grabbing her and running. I was glad to see her boyfriend was crying. I was glad to see he was breathing unsteadily and that he looked like he couldn’t believe his luck. I was glad that he cheered when she said “I do.” He did deserve her. She looked happier than she ever had.

“She’s not coming home tonight,” I said solemnly as me and y/n drove back to our house.

“But she’ll be safe and that’s what matters most,” Y/n said, running my arm.

When we got home it was raining profusely. I saw a figure at the door. As we got closer I realised it was Heaven. I came to a rolling stop and flung the car into park. I bounced out and took in the sight of my daughter who was soaked.

“Why are you here? You’re supposed to be on your honey moon,” I had to scream over the storm.

“I had to stop the car and turn around, To tell you, you were the first man that really loved me,” she said through tears. I pulled her to me and sobbed as I held her in the rain. I thanked her.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[braidlottie]

christmas in july.

pairing: pool boy!transmasc!reader x milf!shauna shipman

summary: you’ve been cleaning ms. shipman’s pool for quite sometime now, even having a friendship with her. you never would’ve thought what happeneds when you stepped foot into her pool one night.

tags: smut, 18+, nsfw (minors dni), reader has his own pool business, reader has top surgery, shauna is divorced :3, pool sex, clit play, oral sex (shauna receiving), shauna has a christmas tree in the middle of july (you’ll see why), brief smoking (from callie and shauna)

wc: 1.8k

sorry i didn’t know how to end this fic pls Forgive me!!!!

life couldn't be better for you right now. you were out of college for the summer, and your pool business was booming. you always loved this time of year, you got a shit ton of money, and you just loved seeing little kids' faces when their parents tell them the pool’s clean. but there was one house that you absolutely love going to, you never pass up a chance to go there.

mrs. sadecki’s house.

well, ms. shipman’s house. you forgot she recently got a divorce over the spring, just leaving her and her daughter alone in that big, suburban house. you never really knew why they separated, but it was none of your business anyway, though you missed seeing the two together. mr. sadecki was always very kind to you.

parking your van on the curb, you grabbed all your supplies, like your chlorine tablets and your leaf skimmer. you walked up the porch step and rang the doorbell. “coming!” you heard ms. shipman’s voice echoed from outside the house, and it took for her to answer. “oh, honey, i’m so sorry, i just got out of the shower.” she opened the door, in a robe and wet, dripping hair. you told her it was fine, and she let you in. she kept apologizing for leaving you out in the hot sun, and offered you some lemonade outside.

you went out the back door to the pool and got to work, checking the pH levels, changing the pool filter, and even going back to your van for your vacuum to get some debris off the pool floor. your tank top came off while doing so, so you wouldn’t get it wet while vacuuming. you were at it for about thirty minutes before ms. shipman came back to check on you, a pitcher of lemonade in one hand, and two, tall glass cups in the other. she set them down on the patio table and pulled out two chairs. she couldn’t take your eyes of your chest, the water droplets trickling all the wall down to your-

“mrs. sadecki?” your voice brought her out of her trance.

“i’m just about finished, mrs. sadecki. oh- i mean, ms. shipman.” you cursed at yourself for the mistake. “that’s alright, honey, and i told you to start calling me shauna. all that ‘mrs’ stuff makes me feel old.” she poured you a cup of lemonade, passing it to you as you sat down.

“it looks beautiful, callie’s gonna love it,” she smiled, taking a sip of the cold beverage. “i made you a little kit, until next time. put some of this shock in there once every week so you can get rid of the bacteria. and your own little leaf skimmer so you can get all the bugs and leaves out and what not.” you pointed at the supplies next to you.

“thank you, that’s so sweet. oh, how do i keep the possums from getting in?”

“oh yeah, i got you a tarp, just lay it flat right over it at night, and you’re good to go.”

shauna smiled and nodded, ever so grateful for somebody like you, taking care of her pool. the two of you sat and talked for another twenty minutes when you realized it was around that time that you went to get something for lunch. it was almost like shauna didn’t want you to go, so she proposed something you never would’ve thought of. “are you free tonight?”

your eyebrows raised in surprise. “sure, what time?”

“around 7. i wanted you to join me and callie for dinner today. just as a thank you.” shauna got up from her chair, her hands behind her back timidly. “but, i’ve been cleaning your pool for a while now, shauna. i’m just doing my job.” her shyness began to shed off onto you now.

“i know, but i never really formally thanked you. c’mon, please?” shauna couldn’t believe she was begging to her pool boy right now. “well, i’ll be there. thank you, shauna.” she smiled back at your response, watching you grab your things and leave.

***

you came back, just “around 7” like shauna told you too, the sun was setting and shauna’s daughter, callie, was sitting on the porch swing, taking a hit from her vape. she saw you get out and walk up to her.

“sup?”

“sup.” you replied, putting your hand on your hip, your keys jingling in your hand. you’ve had a few interactions with callie before, except they were just awkward smiles and waves.

“your mom know you have that?” you gestured at the pen.

“no. are you gonna tell her?”

“nah, not today.” you smirked. the girl sniggered at that.

there were a few more seconds of silence before she got up to go back in the house. “i can’t believe my mom let the pool boy come to dinner. she must really like you.” she left the door open for you to walk in behind her.

“you’re back! and you changed.” shauna came to greet you, noticing that your swim trunks were different, and you had on a t-shirt with your company name on it. “of course, i did. didn’t want to come to dinner smelling like chlorine.” she chuckled at your joke. “woah. why is your christmas tree still up?” you admired the beautiful red, silver, and green ornaments strung along the branches.

“ever heard of christmas in july?”

“i didn’t even know people celebrated that.” you shrugged and callie scoffed. “that’s my mom, celebrating every holiday known to man. like, how are you from new jersey and you celebrate boxing day?” the younger girl scoffed.

“enough from you, help me set the table.” shauna scolded. you got a kick out of the duo, seeing them bicker back and forth about the most random holidays.

***

the three of you had just finished dinner, callie going up to her own room after saying goodnight. shauna let you stay for a while, sitting by the pool with you. the night air was cold against your legs.

you saw shauna pull out a box of cigarettes from her pocket, with a lighter as well. the lighter clicked a few times before she successfully lit the cigarette. she held out the box to you with a raised brow.

“oh, no, i don’t smoke.” you shook your head and smiled nervously. “ever since i left jeff, i started smoking these. i need to quit it though. i can already feel myself staring to shrivel up.” she scoffed, and you laughed again. looking up at the stars.

the two of you sat in the patio chairs the conversation g when shauna put out her cigarette and stood up. “wanna go for a swim?” she slipped off her cardigan, placing it on the chair. “i really shouldn’t.”

“aww, come on. just this once?” she kicked off her sandals. you twisted your lips in second guessing, shauna giving you a pleading look. “just for a little.” you smirked, and she smiled.

since you were already in your swim trunks, you just took of your shirt, leaving you in a tank top. you thought shauna would do the same, but when you turned around, she was already in the pool.

naked.

you gulped, not even realize how hard you were staring until shauna said something. “don’t be shy, honey.” you stepped down the pool stairs, teeth chattering at the coldness of the water mixed with the night air. you dunked your whole body in, even your head. you stayed under for a while before coming to the surface, wiping the water from your face.

“it feels amazing.” she ran her hands through her wet hair. you stood on the pool floor, trying to adjust your swim trunks, that have been feeling a little too tight ever since you got in. your rock hard nipples poking through your white tanktop. it was shauna’s turn to stare now.

“you okay?”

“yeah, sorry.” you looked up at her again, but your eyes went straight to her breasts. “my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” she spoke seductively. your eyes met hers, and she giggled at your expression. she swam closer, making you back up against the pool wall.

her finger went to your left nipple, twisting and pinching it over your tank. your breathing got heavier and heavier, her brown eyes looking up at yours.

“ms. shipman, we shouldn’t-”

“i know you want this. you’ve always had your eyes on me for too long, even before i divorced jeff.”

“wha- no, what are you talking about?” you sputtered. “i wouldn’t do that to mr. sadecki.”

shauna had a “you sure about that?” look on your face, and you knew she was onto you.

she was onto you the whole time.

she giggled at your reaction, so embarrassed but surprised. “naughty boy.”

her hands were snaking further down to your trunks, fingers still grazing over your nipple. “oh, shit.”

“want me to touch you?”

you nodded and shauna’s hand slipped down your shorts, fingers rubbing your engorged clit in small circles. you moaned, tipping your head back in pure bliss.

“you better be quiet. you don’t want my daughter up there to here, do you?” shauna pointed up at callie’s window, seeing that her bedroom light was still on.

“n-no- fuck- i’m sorry.” you bit your lip, trying to supress another small whine of desperation. “shauna, fuck.”

“such a dirty mouth for a sweet boy like you.” she smirked, applying more pressure to that little bundles of nerves. she knew you were close. and she wanted to make you come hard.

“fuckfuckfuck- i’m gonna cum,” you hips thrusted into shauna’s hand, shying away from her eyes. you groaned, muffling it with the back of your hand.

“that’s it, honey.” she whispered, wiping the trickles of water look from your face. after you catch your breath, your hands go to shauna’s waist, backing her against the pool wall now. she finally kissed you, moaning breathlessly into your mouth. “i wanna taste you.” you said hungrily, making shauna sit on the the edge on the pool for you.

you spit on your hand before rubbing over shauna’s clit, getting a low yet desperate moan from her, inhaling sharply when your tongue swirled against it. “fuck, baby!” she holds your head closer, squeezing it between her thighs. “oh, baby, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard. keep going for me.” her teeth gritted as she cursed.

she gasped, hurling forward and muscles spasming as she came on your tongue. she wiped a tear from her eye, the overwhelming feeling hitting her so hard. she’s never had sex this good. even when she was married to jeff.

“well, that was something else.” she struggled to stand, her legs a little shaky. she walked back to the patio chair, putting her clothes back on her wet body. you also got out as well, just lifting yourself up to sit on the edge.

“i’ll see you next week? y’know, for the pool?”

“uh.. yeah, yes you will.” you sniffed, shauna just smiling at you adoringly. hopefully it’s just for the pool, right?

part of you hoped it wasn’t.

[danikamariewrites]

Yay! So happy you’ll write for them! I have an Aidas request.The reader is Bryce’s friends and meets him through her. They are immediately drawn to each other and grow really close. The war is over and he has to go back to Hel. They are trying to figure out how they can still be together. It can be angsty/fluffy/smutty. Lol just whatever you are feeling.

Honestly I’d be happy with anything to do with him. 😂

Hel is Heaven With You

Aidas x reader

A/n: Hi anon, I love this idea and I think of Aidas and his love interest as Hades and Persephone. I might do another part for this if I can think of another story for these guys.

Warnings: none

With the Asteri gone and the war won all that was left to do was send the armies of darkness and nightmarish creatures back to Hel. Once the fighting was over Aidas had given you a choice. Come to Hel with him or stay with your friends.

The first time you met the Prince of Hel was in Bryce’s apartment. His clear blue eyes had captivated you, charming and flirting with you as he danced around giving Hunt and Bryce answers. You felt drawn to the prince since then. Every night you saw him in your dreams. He seemed so real, there were times when you would wake up and swore Aidas was in a dark corner of your room.

When the attack during the spring happened Aidas had checked on you, making sure you were safe. He got into the habit of staying with you for days at a time and eventually you fell for each other. Confessing your feelings was hard. With the both of you being from different worlds you didn’t know how a relationship would work.

It’s been two days since Aidas gave you the choice to come with him. You had spent your time weighing the pros and cons of the situation. You must admit it was enticing, the thought of going with him to Hel. You would miss your friends but Aidas had promised you could see them whenever you wished. Besides them there wasn’t much keeping you on Midgard. Your brother and parents, being the snobby fae they were, cut you off when you stood by Bryce’s side after Danika’s death.

It wasn’t a hard decision after all. Trudging through the harsh snow in Nena with the army of Hel you had your bag slung over your shoulder. You hadn’t told Aidas what you decided yet, deciding to second guess yourself on the trip back to the Northern Rift. But you had said your goodbyes. A lot were tearful, especially June. You swear Fury shed a tear, though she denied it.

You had waited to say bye to Bryce at the rift, not wanting to feel the pain for two goodbyes with your best friend.

As the army filed through the rift back to Hel you said your goodbyes to her and Hunt, promising to visit. When Aidas was the only one left you finally faced him. “Well?” He asked, raising a perfectly groomed blonde brow at you. You held out your hand for his in answer.

Aidas seemed shocked as he took it, smiling down at you. As he pulled you towards your future together Bryce called out, “Wait!” You and Aidas turn to face her. “Promise me something Aidas. Promise me you’ll take care of her.” Aidas bowed his head at the fae queen. “I swear on my life, Bryce Quinlan, that y/n will never have a need or want that isn’t met.” Aidas raises your gloved hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the outline of your knuckles.

Bryce nods, the corner of her mouth tugging into a smirk as she says, “I’ll come kick your ass if I find out otherwise.” Stepping through the rift you both look at Bryce and Hunt one last time. “I’m counting on it.” The Prince replies before Bryce seals the rift.

——

Hel is not like you thought it would be. Bryce had told you what it was like after the Caves. But this was different.

Aidas’s kingdom was always in a state of dusk and darkness. His castle wasn’t what you thought either. You expected a fairytale version of a gothic castle with tall black spires, all open air windows and breezeways, floating on a ripped piece of earth among the clouds.

It was nothing like that at all. His home was more of an estate, surrounded by a tall, black wrought iron fence, the grounds covered in hedges and stone statues of his and his brother’s creations. The three story manor itself was black, gray stone moldings decorating the peaks and windows.

The interior was just as hauntingly beautiful as the exterior. Black, white, and red were the main colors decorating the house. Thick velvet curtains guarded the windows. Intricately carved wood made up the walls and bannisters, making the home feel alive. Pulling off your gloves you ran your hands across the ridges.

Aidas slipped your bag from your shoulder, waving his hand it disappeared into thin air. Aidas stepped closer to you, gazing into your eyes as he peels off your layers of winter wear. Handing over your stuff to a butler you didn’t even see approach.

“Come, my heart. I want to show you your new home.” You smile up at him, twining your fingers together again as he leads you through the house.

Aidas left you to get aquanted in your new room, which happened to be his room. You spent your time unpack what little you brought with you, finding Aidas left you plenty of room. He had a new dresser built for you along with a matching vanity. The prince also split his closet in half. When he told you that you were confused as to when you would fill it, is there even a mall on this plane of existence?

Finally curious about how much space you have to fill you pull open the ornate, wooden double doors. As the First Light comes on you gasp. You didn't need to fill the closet, it was already filled for you. Gowns and dresses on velvet hangers, shoes and slippers across racks, along with your clothes from home all neatly folded on the shelves above them.

You gape at the expensive fabrics, running your fingers across the garments in wonder. Knowing Aidas went out of his way to make sure you were clothed and well looked after had tears pricking your eyes.

No one had ever cared for you the way Aidas did. Not even your parents had paid this much attention to you.

Blinking away your impending tears, Aidas clears his throat behind you. Turning, you find the Prince of the Chasm casually draped against the door frame. “Is everything to your liking, my heart?” You smile brightly at him. “It’s perfect. And it’s more than I could ever ask for, thank you, Aidas.”

Aidas pushed off the door frame, striding over to you. The prince towers over you as he looks down at you. Bringing his pale, slender hands up to hold your face Aidas presses a kiss to your forehead. “I told you, my heart, you will never have to want again.”

[zaynmirrors]

A/N: hey y’all! I really want to incorporate more of their back story, but if y’all are interested I can always do a prequel! Taglist is open! Do y’all want chapter songs?

JUST US

Chapter 3: I remember everything

When Daryl returned to camp with his small haul of squirrels and rabbits, he expected to be greeted by his wife. However, she never appeared.

“Y/n!” He shouted, looking through their tent that looked untouched and had been for hours. He walked into the heart of camp and looked around. His wife is nowhere to be seen. Everyone stared at him. He scowled as Shane came over arms out, like he was already ready to diffuse the wild animal.

“Daryl, now listen to me man” Shane started, Daryl knew then something was wrong. His breathing became harsher as the emotions sank in. Fear, anger, anxiety. He felt them all at once.

“She dead?” He asked though he was afraid of the answer. Daryl didn’t really see a point going on without her.

“Her and Merle got separated” Daryl lunged forward, trying to grab ahold of Shane, but ended up in a chokehold by some guy he didn’t know.

His other half was missing. Lost in a world she had no idea how to survive. One he was trying so hard to protect her from. He couldn’t bear the thought of this new world tarnishing his love.

“I’m going to look for them,” he said strained, the arm around his throat making it hard for him to speak. He patted the arm to signal he was no longer a threat. He was carefully released.

Glenn looked at him and spoke, “I’ll go with you”. Daryl nodded, appreciating the extra hands. He was coming back with both of them. The officer, Rick, and Daryl had agreed to tag along too. As well as T-dog.

Daryl readied the box truck, that was brought back from the last excursion. He listened to the hushed argument between Lori whom his wife had become somewhat close, and Rick. It was the argument of a married couple.

He and y/n hardly ever argued, but he’d remembered their first. It was over a dumb cat, he smiled to himself at the memory. She’d brought home this orange poof of a cat from work.

Daryl wanted nothing to do with the small creature and swore up and down he was allergic. Y/n ended up winning their argument. They’d kept the cat and named him Norman. He loved that cat, though he’d probably never really admit that. Not to y/n anyway. Even if he had shed a small tear when Norman got sick.

“You ready?” Daryl spoke to the volunteers, Glenn made his way to the driver's seat, and Rick to the passenger seat. T-dog chooses the latter and sits with Daryl in the back.

-

The group of men made their way through the department store quietly. Not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

T-dog led the way up to the roof, the heavy chain and lock he’d placed on the door still intact. He thanked any god listening, the last thing he wanted was to face Dixons’ wrath. Using bolt cutters he clipped the lock. Rick pulled off the chain as Daryl pushed open the door.

He was met with nothing, no sign of either of them. His lip quivered. The handcuffs Rick had told him about on their drive back to the city dangled from the metal pipe, swaying in the breeze. The side that had been cuffed to Merle was open.

“Fuck” Daryl said, voice quivering. Now back to square one, he began looking around the roof for any sign either one of them had left.

T-dog weighed out his dilemma, speaking. “Dixon, I’m sorry” This earned him a look from the tracker, and continued, “I was supposed to get them but there were too many geeks, and I-“

“You mean to tell me, this is your fault?” T-dog nodded. Daryl clenched his jaw, debating on putting a bolt through his scull but was distracted by a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

He turned fully and saw an x on the back of a door on the other end of the roof. He walked over and gently ran a finger through it. Lipstick. That was his girl.

Daryl ducked into the doorway, the others following behind him. They descended the stairwell and were met with a small arrow in red lipstick signaling to the left.

Every few feet another arrow would indicate which way to go. Until the group came upon two dead walkers. Neither of them looked like Daryl’s wife or brother.

His wife wouldn’t have been able to kill so brutally, this was his brother's doing. Y/n would’ve been precise and less messy. Merle had found humor in positioning the arm and finger of the dead body to point in the direction they needed to continue.

-

Music played softly around the pair as they swayed. A slow, sad country song but they didn’t care. Nor did they care if they had onlookers.

Daryl rested his forehead against hers as they continued to sway. “I love you” he spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it at first.

“I love you” she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. Daryl smiled and pulled her impossibly closer, gently dipping her backward. This earned a laugh to erupt from y/ns throat.

“Congratulations” Joe, one of the long-term patrons of the bar said passing by the two. Y/n replied with a thanks and stared at her now husband.

He raised an eyebrow at her, the side of his lip quirking upwards, “What?”. Daryl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

The memory faded as y/n heard shuffling from outside her hiding place. She had been hidden in the cabinet for what felt like days. It was hot, and she was certainly dehydrated.

She sat still hearing the broken glass crunch under heavy feet. This could be it, her final moments. She prayed to any god listening that it would be quick and painless as the cabinet door swung open. The sun burned her eyes causing her to squint.

A voice etched forever in her mind spoke, “I gotcha” Daryl crouched down to look her over. Tears stung in her eyes as she took in his face. She stumbled out, her legs forgetting how to move from being stuck in a sitting position for days, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His arms enveloped her, holding her close. Taking in the notes of citrus and sweat. How she could possibly still smell like her shampoo was beyond him. “Where’s Merle?” He asked, still holding onto her, refusing to let her go.

She shook her head, “I don't know, he told me to hide in here” Daryl sighed, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Though he knew his brother was tough as nails and could survive this world more than his wife could.

“Let’s get you back to camp” he spoke, standing, making her stand with him. Scooping her into his arms choosing to carry her rather than let her walk.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to look for his brother but his wife looked worse for wear. He also knew his brother could make his own way back to camp. So, he took his wife home.

Chapter 4

Taglist:

@nameless-ken

[anthemofgvf]

Behind Closed Doors: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

Part Seven

description: when your best friend asks for a favor, that being having his twin move in with you, you're hesitant. you've never really liked him, but you are struggling to meet your rent, so you oblige. who knew with time that you would become more upset with his presence, or upset with the fact you have underlying feelings for him that you don't want to face?

-the masterlist for this series-

trope: enemies to lovers x roommates au!

warnings for this series: alcohol and tobacco usage, explicit content (18+, minors dni), angst, swearing

word count: 6.2k

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As soon as Jake shut the door behind him, you held your breath for a moment. You watched as the lock turned and clicked into place and listened to the mute sounds of his boots trotting off out of the apartment complex. You exhaled heavily, bracing yourself onto the counter with your hands on the edge of it, your back arched away from it, and your head held up to the ceiling. So much had happened in 15 minutes, and you were still trying to comprehend it.

He completely shed himself to you. The vulnerability of his heart and feelings were on full display for you only, and you felt relieved that he had felt the same way you did all along. You beat yourself up a bit for being so selfish towards him, malicious and cruel. But that was in the past now, and he had forgiven you with a kiss to signify his infatuation.

You went through your routine of getting ready for the day: eating, taking a shower, doing your makeup, and dressing up into your work uniform. Your emotions were conflicting; you wanted to smile and be happy about relieving some of the tension between you two. But he was gone now, and you had to wait two months to feel his touch again. To feel his lips crash into yours. To smell his natural musk. To be held in his arms. To simply be intimate with him.

It was an odd feeling that brewed in your stomach, making you feel empty where you should feel full. The equation of you two was solved yet put on pause temporarily. At least you knew it was because you already missed him, and not because you regretted kissing him.

As soon as you got into work, you looked for Stacie. You always made sure she was scheduled when you were (the perks of being a manager), and you were ready to update her on the news.

"Y/n!" She called for you from the back, running to you with open arms and squeezing you tightly.

You had taken some time off work to spend more time with Jake. Thankfully, your job believed your fake excuse of grieving a loss of a family member. It was half true, though; you were grieving the loss of Jake for a period of time while he was here. The inevitable you thought you were prepared for, yet you weren't.

You huffed out a laugh as she bounced with you in her arms, patting her back to let her know you appreciated the affection. She pulled away with a gleaming smile, but it began to fade once she noticed your loss of expression.

"What happened? What did Jake do to you?" She kept her hands on your back and searched for an answer by flicking between both of your eyes.

You sighed, laughing once more to yourself to contain your bitter sadness that wretched at your heart. "Oh, he didn't do anything to me. He just...left. Left for tour."

You gave her a nod, and her lips pursed into a pout.

"Not taking it well?" She cocked her head to the side, as her face softened into sympathy.

You exhaled quickly. With a shake of your head, you said, "not really."

You opened your mouth to speak again with hesitation. Of course, you wanted to tell her, but there was still a lot to process on your end.

"He, um, kissed me before he left. He poured out his feelings onto me in a ramble, and I told him how I felt, blah blah blah. And, then we kissed. I mean, it was passionate, meaningful- not something you'd think would happen when kissing him. I used to think he was so pretentious, vain - all of that self-centered shit. But the way he looked at me, the way he held me and told me how much he cared about me not only with words but with...a kiss. I'm still sitting with all of this, Stace." You said to her.

Her mouth hung agape. She stuttered for a few moments before being able to form a proper sentence. "D-did he just leave? Did this just happen, y/n?"

You nodded vigorously. "Yeah, like an hour or so ago. I didn't realize how us admitting our feelings for each other and then sealing it with a kiss would make him leaving for tour so much worse. I'm still in shock, frankly," you exhaled an airy laugh, "but I guess it just comes to show that you don't realize how much you're going to miss someone until they're gone."

You felt like you were being dramatic. As if you shouldn't have been missing him this much. You were able to call him, text him whenever you wanted to. He was going to return, but the time in between that seemed like it would be longer. Uncertainty of what would happen while he was gone, like if he'd hook up with any girls that came his way. He wasn't tied down to you, but it felt like he was fully committed to you by the way he spoke to you.

"I'm so sorry," she gave you another hug, rubbing your back and pulling away from you to continue her small speech, "I mean, at least he's coming back, right? He's not moving out or anything. It gives you something to look forward to when he comes back, right? You two getting to see each other after so long; it's going to be electric. And, hey, modern technology allows us to talk to those who are far away. Shoot him a text, maybe call him after work. I'm sure he misses your voice."

You nodded to her, running your hands over your hair and smoothing it out as you tied it into a high ponytail. "Yeah, I think I will. I've still got to tell Josh, who I'm sure has already heard from Jake, but I think it'd mean more to him that I told him. He loves gossip."

You both laughed at your words. Josh always loved insights on your love life, and an insight on your regular life itself. He cared about that kind of thing, and always wanted to make sure you were secure.

"Gonna tell him after work?" She asked you, walking away to the front to begin a day of work.

"Think so. Have to see what he's doing. He's working on a film right now, so his schedule has been a bit tight." You nodded to her. "But I might call Jake first. Guess we'll have to see which twin I talk to first, huh?"

"That's a sentence I never thought you would say." She laughed. "It's funny how things change. I remember you being so dead set on hating Jake for the time he lived with you. Now, it seems like you want him to live with you forever."

You pushed her shoulder with a laugh. "I can't believe I was so spiteful to him. I truly just needed to give him a second change and get over myself. Things work out for the best sometimes, huh?"

You remembered the conversation you and Jake had when driving to the party.

"Well, and then one day, when you make enough rockstar money, you'll move out into a huge mansion. Or, a humble home, whatever floats your boat, I suppose."

And you didn't process what he said until now.

"Kind of like having you as my roommate. Maybe I'll just live with you forever until you kick me out."

This was hitting you hard, like a collision head-on. You needed to work and focus on the one thing that would usually ease your mind from what your life was like outside of the coffee house.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

When you finished work for the day and arrived at home, you checked your phone to see a text message from Jake.

"Might have already eaten all the brownies. Don't worry, the other guys helped me out. Thank you for making them for me, I appreciate it. Hope work was okay, X."

You smiled at your phone, tugging at your bottom lip and feeling grateful for his text. Before you began to type, you looked down the hall from the kitchen where you stood and decided to go into his room. Sure, you had been in there before, but only when he had occupied it.

You shoved your phone into your pocket and saw the floors clear of his guitars. His closet was open, and half empty from his clothes. A lot of the jewelry he brought was gone, along with a multitude of shoes. It didn't feel like he lived here with you anymore, because his personality seemingly left the room.

You reached for your phone as you sat on his bed and texted him back.

"Glad you and the boys enjoyed the brownies. Work was good, but my mind was kind of everywhere. Call me when you can! I'd like to hear about tour life so far, although it's barely been a day." You responded back and shut off your phone. You looked around Jake's room once more, as it was making you depressed staying in the room that was too quiet for your liking and left to your bedroom.

You washed yourself free of the coffee house, changing into clothes suitable enough to wear outside in the bitter cold, as you planned to see Josh today. You had texted him earlier while you were on break to ask if he was free later tonight but had yet to receive a response. He wasn't a great texter, so whether he was busy or not, you were sure he'd just call instead to respond.

Silence used to soothe you. You used to adore a quiet apartment; a calm environment free of distractions. But when Jake had moved in, that original opinion was flipped around. You missed the faint sound of him playing guitar in his bedroom, humming to himself and pausing his playing to probably write a lyric down. The sounds of him shuffling around in his room. His footsteps that creeped to your room and would knock on your door to come bother you. Of course, you enjoyed his company now, but you wished you hadn't been so defensive of your space for as long as you were. So much missed time that you rid because of your hatred of him and trying to make up that time within a few weeks. It wasn't enough time, and you were just hoping that time would forgive you and allow you to be more comfortable with his absence.

Eventually, Josh called you and told you he would stop by to keep you some company later that night. You were grateful that the apartment wouldn't be so quiet anymore, and he was going to bring his big personality over to cheer you up. You hadn't told him what happened, nor did he tell you that he knew of anything, so whatever tonight would bring was a mystery to you.

To kill time, you cleaned your entire apartment. Wiping off the counters and cabinets, cleaning the bathrooms, dusting everywhere that you believed needed to be. You made the decision of playing Jake's EP while you cleaned, which helped you daydream that he was still there with you. You even let yourself close your eyes and imagine him playing in front of you, singing to you in a serenade manner.

You even reminisced on a memory that you two held while he was still here. You both were at your apartment in his room, sitting on his bed, and it did involve his guitar. He was playing you the song you heard him sing when you first saw him perform, which was "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton. Thinking on that fond memory now made you realize that the song had meaning. He was singing it for you, and the song was a translation of his feelings. God were you oblivious sometimes.

You clapped and howled after he finished the last chord, watching as his face became a hue of pink and wearing a bashful smile.

"Encore, encore!" You beamed.

"I'm a bit played out, sunshine." He said as he set his guitar down onto the bed behind the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. "Will you ever give that nickname a rest? It's corny, Jacob."

He bit back a smile. "Will you ever stop calling me Jacob?"

You raised your brows. Your lips downturned into a smile, sucking your cheek and shaking your head. "If you stop calling me sunshine, I'll stop using your government name. How's that?"

He nodded, holding his hand out. "That's a deal, y/n."

You grasped his hand with a giggle, shaking it and holding your hand in his for a moment. It was coarse, with his calloused fingertips caressing the back of your hand. How could rough hands feel so soft and welcoming?

You pulled your hand from his, setting it on your lap and looking to him. "You know, for someone who says they don't rehearse often, you sure like to play your guitar a lot."

"There's a difference between rehearsing and just playing to make sure you're keeping your skills up to date. Do you expect me not to play?" He said with a hint of a smile.

"Was just a bit confused, that's all." You shrugged. "How come you don't have a show here in Nash? I assumed you'd book a venue here for tour."

"We want to do a show here separately from tour. Like, a more intimate setting, you know? It's going to be far out from the tour, so fans can come see me if they please."

"Fans are traveling all around the world for you, huh? Got some groupies, Jake?"

He chuckled at your words. "I'm-no, no y/n," he continued his laughter, "I'm not the type to do that kind of stuff anymore. You grow out of it, I guess? I'm not a hormonal teenager anymore, believe it or not. Don't think that aspect of a rockstar life is for me. Sure, flirting is fun, but it's mainly harmless." He gave you a shrug.

"Does that mean if I become a fan, you'll flirt with me more than you used to?"

"Who knows. Guess you're just going to have to find out, huh?"

You took in a breath, pressing your lips together to contain a smile and giving him a nod. You felt your cheeks burn, running to your ears and creating a fire on the entirety of your face.

"I think I'm going to head to bed before you start something you can't finish." You pointed at him, standing up and walking to the door.

You turned to him and noticed his eyes lingering on you. You considered that he was watching you walk away. Maybe his eyes trailed to your ass in your tight sweatpants, but all you did was tell him "Goodnight" and put that thought at ease.

What shot you out of your daydream was your phone vibrating on the counter, and you turned swiftly to the device and picked it up.

"You on your way, Josh?" You said into the phone.

"Actually, I am here, y/n. Decided to drop by a bit early since we wrapped up on set faster than I expected. Mind letting me in?"

"Yeah, see you in a second." You said and hung up the phone.

You walked out of your apartment and opened the door to the complex for him, rushing him inside as you bounced up and down from the biting wind that nipped at your covered legs and face. He was sure to be quick inside, and you had a full body shiver as you closed the door.

He took off his coat and gestured it to you, but you pushed it away with a smile as you felt yourself warming up.

"Good to see you." He smiled at you, placing his hand on your back and rubbing it gently. "How's the day been treating you?"

"Did you hear from Jake?" You said to him.

You opened your door and let him walk in first, and he began to kick off his shoes and place his coat on the rack that sat by your door.

His lips were pressed together, and he gave you a shake of his head. "No, why? What happened?"

"Seriously? Does your brother tell you nothing these days?" You followed him into your living room and plopped onto the couch.

He sat down next to you, throwing one arm over the back of the couch and waiting for you to speak.

You sighed and tried to think of where to begin. "Well, I guess the major event of the day was that he admitted his feelings for me, and we kissed."

Josh's eyes lit up, and with a sharp gasp, he leaned in towards you with excitement. He blinked a few times in astonishment. For a moment, he couldn't formulate words. Usually, he was never speechless, but guess it could be because nothing has shocked him this much.

"I can't believe that fucker didn't tell me! Holy shit! How do you feel?" His words tumbled out of his mouth quickly.

You laughed at him. Composing yourself, you continued.

You told him about your excitement about it all, and the relief you felt. Then, you gave him the backstory of the lead up to the kiss, and he listened intently.

"You make him nervous? You're a special woman, y/n. Rarely does he ever get nervous. He's always been a confident guy. I knew he had feelings for you, but he never really dug into the root of it."

"You knew he had feelings for me, and you didn't tell me?" You yelled with a smile, swatting his arm and looking at him with a playful, stern glare.

"Y/n, I told you the moment you called me about him moving in. I told you he's always had feelings for you, and you said that all he wanted from you was one thing. You refused to believe me, so I let it take its course. Besides, it's not my place to get involved." He explained to you.

And he was right. He did in fact tell you that Jake had feelings for you before moved in and you were finalized on your decision. And he even predicted you turning your feelings around for him.

"He likes you, y'know."

"Well, I predict that your mind will change with time. Perhaps, you know, him moving in with you and the both of you creating a bond... It's a perfect story line, in my opinion."

"I am so fucking oblivious sometimes," you slapped your hand against your head, "but I guess I should thank you for not getting too involved. We worked things out on our own."

He nodded with a hum. "Well, have you talked to him? How are you taking the whole tour and him being gone?"

"We texted earlier, and I asked him to call me when he could. I assume he's busy, so I don't expect a call anytime soon. But I do miss him a lot. I guess the whole thing that happened today really just fucked with my head, in a good way, of course. I'm glad he didn't wait, because then I would've been left with overthinking about everything that has happened between us, you know?"

"I'm guessing you're not enjoying the quiet apartment, huh? Noticed you have Jake's EP on your record player." He nodded towards the open case, then flashing his eyes at the sleeve that laid on the coffee table in front of you two. "It's hard to be away from someone that you've grown so fond over, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathed, "I sort of feel like I miss him too much."

"I think your feelings are absolutely valid, y/n. I mean, he rambled a whole uncomposed monologue to you about how he felt, then left you with a kiss. That's kind of hard to just breeze through and not give much thought." He reached his hand to your shoulder and gave it a rub.

You nodded at him. You were unsure of what to say to him, so you averted your gaze and allowed that familiar silence to roam the air and consume the atmosphere. Only for this moment did you enjoy the silence, because it gave you a second to remember how Jake's lips felt on yours, and how he held you.

"Already feeling a bit lonely, huh?" Josh said to you.

You looked to him. "Is that bad?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, of course not. Do you want some company for the night? I know I'm not Jake, but we kind of resemble each other."

You gave him an affectionate smile as you huffed a soft laugh at him. "I would really appreciate that. You sure, though? Don't you have a lot of work to do?"

"I don't go on set until later in the day. Tomorrow is another night shoot, so I've got the day to kill. Let's just watch some movies until we pass out, yeah?" He asked.

"That sounds really fucking nice. I'll make some popcorn, and let you pick out the movies, Mr. Director." You poked at him.

"I have a few good movies in mind that I'm sure you haven't seen." He pointed at you with a wiggle of his brow, grabbing the remote off the coffee table and turning the TV on.

You stood up and walked into the pantry, finding a few packets of popcorn and grabbing a bowl from your cabinet. You set one of the packets into the microwave and let the kernels pop.

"Does this mean I'm going to be getting a personal commentary the whole time?" You said as you walked into the living room.

"Would this be a movie night with me if I didn't talk over the movie at least once?" He turned to you with a smirk.

You sat onto the couch and gave him a shrug. "I always assumed you would be absolutely mute during movies."

"Only certain ones. But some of the movies I have picked out for tonight need a bit of explanation of some kind. They twist at your mind." He pointed to his temple and tapped at it and began the first movie.

While the movie played, you made a few runs to the kitchen to finish popping the rest of the popcorn for you two and finally bringing a large bowl full of the buttery snack for you both to enjoy. You had it set on your lap and curled up next to Josh, as there wasn't any issue with physical contact between you two. Neither of you saw each other in a non-platonic light, as it's always been a great friendship where both of you were comfortable being close to each other. You were thankful to have a friend like Josh, and to know someone so caring.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As the next movie played, Josh decided to be a bit quieter this time round and allow you to enjoy the movie. While it played, your phone rang in your pocket of your sweatpants, and you dug it out to see who was calling you. Of course, like you expected, it was Jake.

"Do you want me to pause the movie?" Josh asked you.

"No, keep watching it. I'll be back." You said, setting the near empty bowl of popcorn onto his lap and answering the call as you trotted off into your bedroom.

"Hi, Jake." You said to him as you closed your door behind you.

"Did you miss me?" He asked you.

"Back to your cocky self, huh?" You giggled with an eyeroll. You folded one arm over your body as you walked around your room.

"Was just making sure that you weren't too comfortable with my absence. In case you wanted to know, I miss you already."

You tugged at your lip. "I guess I miss you a little." You said playfully.

"Just a little? Didn't get that impression when you texted me to call you when I could."

You giggled. There was that old Jake, the one that you knew to be so confident in himself. It was good to know he was back to his old ways, but not in an annoyingly arrogant way. His nerves were soothed now that he knew you had feelings for him, too.

"Alright, so I miss you a good amount. Is that what you want to hear?"

There was a pause, but only for a moment. You heard him exhaled a staggered breath.

"Yeah, I do. Good to know you miss me, too."

There was a beat before he began to talk again.

"So, how's it going? Not getting too lonely, right?"

"Josh is over right now. We're watching a few movies, and he plans on staying over for the night." You sat yourself on the edge of your bed, throwing your legs onto the mattress and lying flat on your back.

"I'm glad he's keeping you company." He said to you.

"Did you guys get to the first stop yet?" You asked him.

"Yup. We made it to Indianapolis pretty late, so we're all in our hotel rooms right now. Kind of glad I don't have to sleep on the tour bus when we're not driving."

"Is the first show tomorrow? Are you excited?"

"Yeah, I am. It's kind of bizarre that there are people coming to see me perform, instead of seeing an opening act along with me. It feels good, like a confidence boost."

"As if you needed one." You huffed a laugh, to which he matched.

"It still feels nice!" He laughed. "But I do wish you were here with me. Sucks you have to work. Hopefully eventually you'll be able to come tour with me."

"I think I'd have to take a leave of absence to be able to do that, but hey, it's doable. Thinking about it now, it sounds fun. I'd get to travel for free while supporting you. It's a win-win." You said.

"You're just now thinking about me?"

"I've been thinking about you all day, Jake." You rolled your eyes with a smile. "You must really like hearing me talk about how much I miss you."

"Because I do. I wish you were here with me right now."

Your heart banged against your chest. The flirting that you had barely had time for when he was here was occurring now, and although you couldn't see his face, his voice was right into your ear. You squeezed and rubbed your legs tightly together, due to when he spoke, it was lustful. Frankly, both you and him knew that if he didn't have to leave, you two wouldn't have stopped kissing each other.

He continued. "You know that if I had more time with you before I left, or maybe just fessed up sooner, I would've made sure to savor our time together in a more intimate way." He spoke slowly.

"How so, Jake?" You said, pressing your thighs tightly together again to relieve some friction that you needed. You knew what he was insinuating, and you hoped he would continue.

"Fuck," he breathed, "are you sure I'm not taking time away from you? I know Josh is over."

"No, it's fine. I told him everything, so he's well aware that I'm going to be on the phone for a bit." You reassured him. You weren't going to end this phone call high and dry.

"Okay," he said, "well, for one, I want you to use your hands as a replacement of my own as I tell you what I want to do to you. What I am going to do to you the moment I see you again. Now, close your eyes for me, pretty girl."

You put your phone in the crook of your neck, leaning your phone into your ear and laying your hands on your stomach. You shut your eyes and imagined him there in front of you, as you figured that is why he asked you to do so. "Keep talking, Jake."

"I'd want to touch you everywhere, y/n. Not miss a spot on your body. Praise you, make you feel good. I'd trail my hand from the side of your face to your neck, dragging it down to your tits."

You followed his motions, using one hand to caress the side of your face, and drag it down to the cave of your breasts. You brought your other hand under your shirt, slowly creeping it up as he continued to speak.

"And of course, my mouth would explore your body, but" he chuckled, "for now, hands will do. I'd squeeze at your nipples and massage your tits."

You did as he said, exhaling a quiet sigh as you rolled your left nipple in your pointer and thumb, and massaging your other breast. You heard his choked breaths, assuming he was stroking himself, which turned you on more. You were saddened you couldn't see the sight unfold in front of you, but hearing every sound he uttered made up for it.

A long sigh was breathed into the phone on his end, which made you bite back a moan that bubbled in your throat.

"I'd then take your pants off." He said, and you quickly tugged them off and left them at your ankles with your underwear. You spit on your fingers in anticipation. "And I would be buried in between your thighs, licking at your clit."

You circled at the area, moaning into the phone quietly as a sign you were doing as he said. He groaned harshly, letting a few swears pass through his lips.

"Touching yourself like a good girl?" He asked you, even though he knew the answer.

"Yes, fuck." You whined into the phone. "Please, keep talking, Jake."

"God, I love talking you through this," he groaned, "just know I'm going to do all of this to you when I get home. Worship your fucking body, touch and kiss you everywhere I can. Make you feel so...fucking good, y/n."

You tugged at your lip, nervous that your moans would grow loud for Josh to hear. But you kept them quiet enough to be heard into the phone, and not echo onto the walls of your bedroom.

"While my tongue is on your pussy, I'd finger you slowly. Want this to last." He said to you. "Only one finger, though, babe. I'll tell you when you can add another, okay?"

You kept your fingers on your clit and managed to move your other hand around your other, sliding in one finger and curling it upon entrance. Your mouth opened as you felt your finger hit your sweet spot inside of your walls, and feel it effortlessly slide in and out of you. A high-pitched sigh escaped your lips, to which Jake groaned at.

"Keep making those pretty noises for me, y/n. And keep fingering yourself like the good girl you are."

You continued the motions, keeping true to his word and moving your finger slowly inside of you. You lazily circled your clit, as you didn't want to drive yourself to your orgasm just yet. Moans of ecstasy roamed into the phone, and they only continued to fumble out of your mouth when you heard him. If you listened closely, you could hear his hand sliding on his length at a steady pace and that had you wanting to throw your head back into the pillow.

"Go ahead and add a second finger for me and speed up your movements. You're doing so good for me, y/n."

You did as he demanded, and you bit down at your bottom lip with a whine.

"Fuck, Jake," you whimpered, "feels so fucking good."

"God, I wish I could see you right now," he sighed, "I'm sure you look so pretty touching yourself."

You let out a light giggle, grinding your hips into the motion of your fingers and leaving your mouth dropped open.

"I don't know how long I'm going to last like this, y/n. Go faster babe, I want you to cum with me."

Your eyes were squeezed shut as you let your fingers pump in and out of you and a merciless pace. Your movement on your clit had faltered, because you were so focused on your fingers hitting the one spot inside of you that was the key to your orgasm, and you began to feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

"Are you close, Jake? I'm so, so close." You whined breathlessly, making sure to keep your voice low for only his ears to hear.

"God, yes. I'm gonna cum, y/n. Keep talking to me. I love the sound of your fucking voice." He said, and it sounded like he said it with gritted teeth.

You were quick on your feet with what you would say to him. "Wanna feel you inside of me, Jake. I've waited so long for it and God do I want it badly." You moaned.

"So perfect for me, aren't you?" He said with a rushed tone. "Fuck, I'm cumming. Come on, y/n, cum with me." He said harshly.

You focused on your fingers and the sound of his choked breath as his release spewed out, and you felt your own overtake your body. A full body shiver entrapped you on your bed, with your back arching and your thighs trembling around your fingers. You held back a loud whine, closing your mouth and humming it behind your lips.

You caught your breath as you heard him catch his own, removing your fingers from yourself, putting your sweatpants and underwear back on, and getting up to clean off your hand and yourself. Your knees were slightly weak, so you were steady walking into your bathroom.

"Fuck, you okay?" He said breathlessly to you.

You closed the bathroom door and put him on speaker phone as you washed your hands. "Yeah, yeah I am. Don't think I've ever had phone sex before."

He huffed a laugh. "Glad I could be your first."

You smiled at your phone, cleaning yourself off and putting him back to your ear as you turned off the speaker button.

"I do miss you, you know. After all of this, I'd just want to be in bed next to you."

You rubbed your lips together and let another smile invade your lips. "I want that, too. Only two more months left." You said with a huff.

"It sounds longer than you think. I'm sure it'll fly by, and I'll be back before you know it."

"I sure hope so. It's barely been a day and I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel a week from now, let alone a month. But I'll get over myself. As long as you keep me updated and talk to me every now and then."

"I'll try talking to you as much as I can, y/n. Don't worry. But I should let you get back to your time with Josh, and I should catch some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

You began walking to your door and let your hand rest on the handle. "Okay, sleep well. Goodnight, Jake."

"Goodnight, y/n." He said to you and hung up the phone.

You walked out slowly, and looked to see if Josh was awake. The bowl of popcorn was on the table, and his head was rolled back on the couch with his eyes closed. You laughed to yourself and grabbed a throw blanket from the side of the couch that you had abandoned throughout the movie night. You tucked yourself in next to him, throwing the cloth over you two, and resting your eyes.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had been almost two weeks since that day. You and Jake talked nearly every day, either before one of his shows, or while he was on the road. If you two weren't texting, he was calling you. You both even indulged in Facetiming each other, and it was nice to see his face after a while. You two had your fair share of phone sex once or twice, but neither of you wanted to make that a main priority. You both wanted to make sure that what you had wasn't about lust, but heartfelt feelings and pure romance.

It helped that you talked to him a lot, and although you still missed him, it helped to hear his voice and see his face. He showed you some pictures from the places he traveled, different sights that he had been to and some photos of the venues he got to perform in. Sure, they were small, but he told you they were nearly packed every night. You believed him and were also beyond proud of his accomplishments.

Now, all you had left to do was wait for his return. Sure, that's what you've been doing, but after two days, it really set in that you'd have to wait longer to see him in person again. You figured long distance would be hard, but thankfully, it wasn't too difficult. You were just thankful that he was returning home to you, and not to anyone else.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

-part eight-

series taglist: @jakekiszkasmommy @anythingforjtk @gold-mines-melting @twistedmelodies @ageofhearingloss @classicsneverdie @lmaooharry @raviolilegs @mydarlingdanny @iheartjakekiszka @edtvdf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvf23 @flo-gvf @madneedshelp @carlyfleet @pinkunicornsandbluecows @joshysgirl @jasminesworldd @alwaysonthemend @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @takenbythemadness @jaketlove @starcatcher-jake @hi-hi-hello11 @amygvf13 @alyson814 @char289 @becinabubblegvf @worldsgayestbonenerd @intoth3ether @m0uthfl13s @klarxtr

other tags: @songbirds-sweet @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @fallonfatality @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @loverleaverslayerbeliever @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @beckahvanfleet @threadthatssacred @indigofallingsky @audgeppp @sinarainbows @brujamagik @bowievanfleet @sam-i-am-20 @laneygvf @psychedelicsprinkles @malany-gvf @idontlikelizards @josh-iamyour-mama @julihurrr @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jaketswine @jjwasneverhere @interstellar-shores

[munson-blurbs]

Love You Through It (Dad!Eddie x Mom Reader)

Summary: When you're struggling with postpartum depression, Eddie brings in some help. Just a little blurb.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, mention of pregnancy, Stancy is canon

WC: 915

A/N: I've struggled with depression, but not PPD. I tried to draw on my own experiences and what I've heard from others, and I hope I did this request justice.

--

On a Sunday morning, you wake up to the sound of Eddie's voice crackling through the baby monitor.

"Good morning, Melly Bean! Today's gonna be a beautiful day," he coos. You want to smile, soak in the way your husband dotes on your two-month-old daughter, but you just can't. It feels like there's something blocking you from feeling happy.

You roll over in bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Eddie's baby talk fades from the monitor but gets closer to your bedroom door.

"You wanna go see Mommy? Show her how much you love her?" he asks, even pausing as if Melody can give an answer.

"Hi Mama Munson," Eddie calls to you from the doorway. "Someone wants to say 'good morning.'" His sweet smile morphs into a frown when he sees you burrowed into the blankets. "Sweetheart? What's going on?"

"Nothing," you insist, voice muffled by the layers covering you. "Just wanna sleep."

Eddie looks at you, concern evident all over his face. "Okay, love," he says finally, "we'll be in the living room if you need us."

You wait until after he closes the door to sob into your pillow.

~

"Hello?" Steve answers the phone groggily, glancing at the time. Only 7:30 AM; who could be calling at this hour?

"Harrington," Eddie''s visibly relieved by the sound of his friend's voice. "There's something wrong with Y/N."

Steve sits up immediately at this news. "What do you mean?" he asks, panicked. "Does she need to go to the hospital?" Eddie hears Nancy's quiet voice, and Steve repeats what Eddie just told him.

"I don't--I don't know if you go to the hospital for this," Eddie tells him. "She stays in bed all the time, she doesn't want to be with the baby, she barely eats..."

Nancy takes the receiver from her husband. "Eddie?" she says. "Hon, that sounds like postpartum depression."

Eddie's eyes widen. "What do I do? I've been trying to handle everything but I'm just so...tired," he admits. "It's a lot, but I don't want to make her feel worse."

"I'm coming over," Nancy says, throwing off her covers. "Give me half an hour, okay?"

Eddie nods before realizing she can't see him. "Thanks, Nance," he whispers.

~

Your bedroom door is nudged open, but instead of Eddie, Nancy's standing there.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and you nod slowly. It seems like everything is happening in slow motion these days.

She takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. "Eddie called us," she explains softly, rubbing your back. "He's worried about you, babe. We all are."

"'M fine," you lie, but it's no use trying to pull one over on Nancy.

"No," she shakes her head, "you're not. You should talk to your doctor, but I think you have postpartum depression."

"But how?" you cry out, voice catching in your throat. "I'd get it if I was alone, or there was something wrong with Melody, or the delivery..." You start to cry again, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't dehydrated from all the tears you've shed. "But Eddie has been amazing, and the baby is happy and healthy, and my delivery was fine."

Nancy offers a small smile. "Unfortunately, it doesn't always work like that," she says. "It can happen to any new mommy, regardless of the circumstances."

"Nance, I feel so guilty all the time," you confide in a hushed whisper. "I want to do more, but it's like my brain and my body won't cooperate. And then it all falls on Eddie, which makes me feel even worse. Like..." you pause before allowing the truth to spill out, "like I'm failing at being a mom."

Your friend squeezes your arm gently. "You are not a failure," she reassures you. "We're gonna help you get through this, okay? This isn't your fault. If anything, it's Eddie's fault for getting you pregnant in the first place." she says with a giggle.

"I heard that!" Eddie calls out, peeking his head into the doorway. Nancy stands up when he comes in.

"You two get some rest, and I'll make some breakfast." She scoops up the baby monitor on her way out. "Don't worry about Melody; I'll take care of her if she needs me."

Eddie snuggles into bed behind to you and presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You know I adore you, right?"

"Of course," you reply. "I'm sorry I haven't been showing you how much I adore you, Eds."

"My love, you carried our perfect daughter for nine months. What else can I ask for?"

"I don't know," you reply tersely, "maybe a wife who can take care of her baby, who can take care of herself?"

"And you will," he tells you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. "But right now, we're gonna sleep. And when we wake up, Nancy is gonna help us find someone you can talk to. Like a therapist or something," he clarifies.

You take his hand and kiss it. "Do you think Melody hates me?" you whisper.

"Hates you? Oh, baby, absolutely not," Eddie gives a little laugh. "She loves her mommy. And she knows how much I love you, too."

"And how much is that?" you tease, snuggling into him.

Eddie's peppering kisses all over your face, his curly hair and hint of stubble tickling your cheeks.

"Does that answer your question?"

--

[pinkynana]

omg renjun and chenles bsf that just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her so she goes to her two best friends for comfort during this all but renjun and chenle cant help but take this as an oppurtunity to show her what she has been missing out on and show her exactly how shed be treated if she was w either one of themmmmm :(

BDGDHFFF I LOVE THIS

you sat on your bed, hugging your knees with tears wetting your face. you were a mess after your boyfriend broke up with you and he had the audacity to do it over text which he then immediately blocked you from contacting him. it was devastating but you're thankful that you have your best friends chenle and renjun to be here with you.

renjun tries to calm you down by gently rubbing your back while chenle was arranging a playlist for you to feel better. you noticed thr eye contact that the two of them hold because it was a little longer than needed but you thought nothing of it.

"can i get a hug?" you asked renjun. "of course." he pulls you in, letting you lean your head on his shoulder. you feel his hand caressing your hair.

"hugging is great but you know what else could make you feel good?"

"hmm?" you looked at chenle from renjun's shoulder. "sex." he plays the playlist that he just arranged and it started with sex money feelings die. it made you giggle a little but you noticed your friends weren't laughing. "oh, you're serious?" you looked at renjun. his face was asking you for permission and maybe your face showed him your permission because he just kissed you right there.

he guided you to lean back and lie down on your bed. your head next to your pillows. renjun stoppes the kiss to unbotton your blouse with one hand. the other softly touching your face which you leaned on, blinking prettily to your best friend. "some would think you've waited for this to happen, angel." you didn't reply.

your legs were spread without even being told to. that's when chenle came into the picture. with just a movement, he took off your pants along with your thin panties. he came close to your core which made you shiver. "excited?" renjun asked you before kissing you again. he didn't need an answer the way you were moaning in his mouth was enough once chenle kissed your inner thigh.

chenle's kisses were as gentle as one would handle something so fragile. it's sweet but it's teasing. he started futher from your clit and when you think he'll kiss you there, he goes to the other thigh that he hasn't kissed yet. it made you push renjun so you could speak.

"chenle.." you whined. "no, baby. focus on me. chenle will play with you but now you gotta focus on me, okay?" renjun held your chin with his fingers, making sure that you wouldn't look away from his eyes. you nod your head and it earned you a little smooch on your forehead. then, he kissed you again. and like he asked you to, your focus was on renjun. you focused so much on his lips that you missed the way chenle gave a long lick from your hole to your clit. only when he sucked your pussy did you let out a gasp into renjun's mouth.

"feels good?" as much as you wanted to answer, you couldn't because you were too occupied with renjun. with a grunt, chenle pushed away the older to stop your make out session with him.

"do something else. i need to hear her." renjun rolled his eyes but he did pull down your bra as he switched his attention to your breast.

chenle went back down to your pussy. "now, answer me. does it feel good, baby?"

"more.. need more please." just from that little begging, chenle inserted two of his fingers while his mouth played with your clit. it was easy to thrust his fingers rapidly with how wet you were. of course you turned to a moaning mess with the way chenle was using your pussy.

renjun smiled when your hand reached his hair and started pulling. "you like it that much, huh?"

"yes, yes. like it so much! i love it." they barely started and you were going dumb already.

"you would've liked it sooner if you didn't date that asshole."

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 6/34 - christmas lights

[Read on AO3]

“You talked to Skinner, right?” Mulder asks, nervously turning his hastily-wrapped gift of a bottle of wine in his fidgeting hands. 

It feels dangerous, as he walks up the driveway to Maggie Scully’s house. Scully walks beside him in her usual place. His hand lightly brushes against the small of her back with each forward step, his way of keeping her close when there are threats lurking in the shadows. 

Threats Scully seems to be paying no mind to. Instead, her excitement is palpable. 

He sees where she's coming from; Having a secret of this magnitude just between them is admittedly thrilling. He's just not sure it's worth the risk of ruining Christmas, though, but maybe that's just him.

“Of course I did,” she answers, charging ahead without a lick of apprehension. His brave little fiancée. “He'll call after lunch.”

“Just making sure,” he mumbles. “If he forgets, we’re gonna be stuck here all day.”

“Mulder…” She shoots him a look.

“Right, sorry. Sorry.”

Festive strands of lights, unlit in the daytime, adorn Mrs. Scully's bushes and trees in her front yard, their clear bulbs glinting in the sunlight. It's a sight to behold when the sun goes down, he's sure. Though he's hoping he won't be here long enough to find out.

“Dana!” a voice calls, and they look up to see the front door open slightly, with Mrs. Scully herself peeking out.

Mulder’s hand drops from Scully’s back.

“And Fox! I’m so happy you could make it! I hate the idea of you spending Christmas Eve all alone.”

Truth be told, he enjoys his quiet Christmases. Better than the ones he had before his parents split, in any case. The slight pity in her voice makes him uncomfortable, but he smiles anyway, playing the part he has to play. If this works out (and he's invited back for another Christmas), he takes solace in the fact that there will never again be a secret like this to keep. He might even enjoy himself next time.

“Well aren’t you two all dressed up,” Maggie says as they step over the threshold, taking in their appearances. “The rest of us are barely out of our pajamas!”

Mulder looks around as the entryway opens up into the living space. Bill and his family are seated on the couch, and another red-headed man sits adjacent to him on an overstuffed chair, raising a cup of coffee in welcome.

‘We come in peace,’ Mulder thinks.

He waves in greeting, giving a nod in Bill’s direction. The unflappable stare he receives in response is nothing less than he expected. 

They really are overdressed. Everyone else is in a sweater of questionable taste or casual winter-wear. And here they are dressed like they’re going to court.

Which… they are.

Mulder loosens his collar at that thought, suddenly hyper-aware of the countless pairs of eyes fixed on him, as if he has the words ‘I'M ABOUT TO MARRY YOUR DAUGHTER/SISTER’ tattooed on his forehead.

Is he always this sweaty in this suit?

“Charlie, I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Scully says jovially as she sheds her coat. The red-haired man stands and makes his way over to them, wrapping Scully in a massive bear hug. It's an effective enough distraction to take the heat off Mulder, which he is certainly thankful for.

Up close, he can tell the man takes after Maggie more than Scully’s father in appearance, unlike the eldest Scully son. The red hair though, that's gotta be all Scully. His heart stutters at the thought of a red-headed baby, one they might have had if the IVF had worked. He pushes it back forcefully. He'd thought he was over that by now.

“This is my partner, Mulder,” Scully says, drawing his attention back to the present. She introduces them with a hand resting on her brother’s shoulder, gesturing up at her tall partner with a smile.

“Mulder, this is my younger brother, Charlie.”

Mulder nods and puts on a smile, hoping he might have a chance at getting on one Scully sibling’s good side.

“Heard a lot about you,” Charlie says, shaking Mulder’s outstretched hand. “From Dana, not Bill, don’t worry. She’s the only one I listen to,” he jokingly adds, and Mulder stiffly laughs, the tension easing just a bit.

He wonders what she tells her brother when they get a chance to talk. All good things, he hopes.

“You’re stationed in Japan, right?” Mulder asks, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’s not adept at making polite conversation, but he thinks it’s going okay so far.

“That’s right. Managed to get enough leave time to make the trip finally.”

“How long will you be in town?” Scully asks.

“Just until Tuesday. The Navy can’t be without me for too long or else the entire base falls apart.”

Bill pushes out a forced laugh at that and shakes his head in fond annoyance.

When a lull in the conversation presents itself, Mulder pulls Scully aside, ducking his head so that his whispers won't be overheard. 

“We can postpone our plans,” he says into her ear, "I know you don't get to see your brother very often. I'll call Skinner and let him know.”

“No, Mulder, it's okay,” she says, reaching out and gripping his sleeve. “I'll see him tomorrow. I want to do this.”

His eyes study hers. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Heaven help him. 

“I'm blaming you if this gets me on another brother's bad side,” he warns.

“Charlie’s not like Bill. You'll be fine,” she says. “Talk to him about Japanese cryptids or something, he might actually be interested.”

Mulder laughs nervously. “That feels like a setup, Scully, but I'll take your word for it.”

-.-.-

Mulder has some success hiding in the corner with a freshly-poured cup of coffee while the others mingle, but of course his luck can only hold out for so long. It isn't long before Charlie spots him, tracing an unmistakable path across the room to intercept him before he can escape.

“So, Fox. Or is it Mulder?” he starts.

Mulder turns, accepting his fate. “Mulder’s fine,” he answers with a polite smile. 

“What are you two up to?”

The taste of coffee goes bitter in his mouth, and it takes some effort not to go straight into a coughing fit. “What?” he asks, eyes seeking out Scully already, though she's nowhere to be seen.

“Work,” Charlie clarifies. “What kinds of stuff are you doing at work?”

“Oh, right.” Mulder drops the panic face, his shoulders relaxing. “Well, I'm sure you wouldn't be interested. Boring stuff, mostly.”

“I find that hard to believe based on what my sister’s told me.”

Yeah, but how much does he know? That’s the question.

“Uh. We had a fast food worker a little while ago that ate his victims brains.”

He’ll leave out a few details and let the man believe it was a simple case of cannibalism. He doesn’t exactly feel like talking about proboscises or shark mutants or mentioning the fact that the brains were completely removed from the victim’s skull right before a nice family lunch.

“Eugh,” Charlie makes the appropriate sound of disgust, “How'd you figure that one out?”

“You really don't want to know.”

The youngest Scully sibling seems to accept that answer, to Mulder’s relief.

“You guys certainly live interesting lives, don't you?” he says.

“You could say that,” Mulder says. “I think your brother would prefer if they were less interesting, though.”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Don't listen to him, he's just mad Dana's not his helpless baby sister anymore. Which, mind you, she never was. She'd wipe the floor with him shooting targets with our beebee gun growing up.”

Now here’s a subject that really interests Mulder. “I believe that,” he says, smiling at the thought of Bill getting humiliated by a teeny tiny Scully. “Got a scar on my shoulder to prove it.”

“She shot you?” Charlie asks, his voice laced with equal measures of incredulity and fascination.

“Oh yeah. With the precision of a practiced medical professional.” He smiles proudly, which probably isn’t the usual affect of a person describing how a bullet tore through their body, but Mulder wears that scar like a medal of honor. “In her defense, I deserved it,” he continued, “I wasn't in my right mind at the time, and she had no other way to stop me.”

Charlie blows out an impressed breath, brows raised in wonderment. “Well, I'm glad you can laugh about it now,” he comments. “You know, Bill might enjoy that little tidbit. I think he thinks you've trapped her with your roguish handsomeness, or possibly voodoo.”

Mulder laughs, though somewhat uncomfortably. Sometimes he wonders if he’s trapped her too, though he doesn’t think ‘roguish handsomeness’ has anything to do with it.

“No, for reasons beyond my comprehension, she's decided to stick around,” he says awkwardly. “Despite my best efforts to make her see the light.”

Charlie nods, as if that was the response he was expecting. “You and Bill aren't all that different, then,” he says, clapping Mulder on the shoulder. “Only, you know when to give in to that Scully stubbornness and admit defeat. He, unfortunately, doesn't.”

All the better for me, Mulder thinks.

They fall into an awkward silence after that, each taking a sip from their lukewarm coffee. Mulder glances around the room in search of his partner again, hoping she’ll come rescue him from small-talk hell when—

“So what are you actually up to?”

This time he plays it cool, swallowing another sip of coffee as casually as possible before asking, “What do you mean?”

“Come on. When I asked you earlier, you started sweating,” Charlie says, lightly smacking Mulder’s arm with the back of his hand. “Now you've got me thinking you're hiding something.”

Mulder gives his best clueless look, a tactic which only has about a 50% success rate of getting him out of trouble. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure you don't,” Charlie says, entirely unconvinced. He has the same expression as Scully has when he’s pitching her some wild theory at work. It’s almost unsettling to see it now on an unfamiliar face. “My sister's got that ‘sneaking around’ look she used to get when she was doing something our parents wouldn't approve of,” he continues. “I was the youngest sibling, remember? I saw everything.”

Okay, denial’s not working, time to bail. The scrutinizing eyes of Charles Scully are locked onto him, and he gives a knowing smile.

“Well, whatever it is, I'm glad you're doing it. She seems happy.” Mulder lets out a breath, not sure what the approval of his partner’s younger brother means exactly, but grateful for it all the same. “I think making Bill mad gives her a thrill,” the man continues, casting a glance at his big brother.

“I'm afraid you might be right,” Mulder agrees.

Charlie shakes his head. “Well, that's Dana for you. Appearances are never what they seem.”

Mulder couldn’t agree more. 

“Ain't that the truth.”

-.-.-

Lunch is a fairly painless affair, all things considered. Maggie had the good grace to sit Bill and Mulder on opposite ends of the table, and Charlie doesn’t mention their previous conversation again. The last remnants of dessert are being scraped off plates when the phone rings, its shrill tone interrupting conversation.

“Dana, your boss is on the phone for you,” Maggie speaks, popping her head around the corner from the kitchen.

“Oh, brother,” Bill says, instantly looking to Mulder with a nasty glare. So much for being off the hook, Mulder thinks. He wordlessly sends a complaint to Scully about her brother’s behavior, flicking his eyes pointedly toward Bill Jr., and she’s forced to suppress a smile as she hurries into the kitchen. He hears her mumble something into the phone, though it’s far enough away that no one in the dining room can hear.

When she returns, she’s wearing a serious facial expression.

Showtime.

“Mulder, that was Skinner,” she says, her tone regretful. “He's calling us in.”

“Ugh, on Christmas?” he whines, putting a little extra oomph into his indignation for appearance’s sake. Bill doesn’t appear to be buying it.

“He says it should only take a few hours—they just need our input on a case,” Scully explains, just like they’d rehearsed.

“Well, if the Assistant Director says so,” Mulder says with a shrug, and Scully shoots him a look that says he's pushing his luck. He can't help but smirk for a second before carefully masking his face. This was her idea.

“Are you kidding me, Dana? This is a family holiday!” Bill protests, a vein bulging in the side of his head. As if he’s never missed a holiday for work. Yeah, right.

Scully’s composure remains cool and confident, despite her brother’s lack of reason. “Director's orders, Bill. I'm sorry. I promise I'll be here all day tomorrow.”

He scoffs. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

Maggie, to her credit, takes their sudden departure in stride, hugging both her daughter and Mulder before ushering them out the door, promising to see them tomorrow bright and early.

They smile like giddy, rule breaking schoolchildren all the way to the car.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

[agvstdr]

Changed man - Dean winchester

- Dean is back from hell, but he's changed.

She was scared to let him go because once she did she'd gone forever. She doesn't  temporarily close doors- she burns them down and replaces them with tombstones. It becomes a place to mourn a relationship that once was but isn't anymore; a place where dreams, hope, love, the life they shared and the people they were together are buried and only memories remains.

- Jess Amelia

months ago dean suddenly returned from hell, both sam and i were happy to see him again but we immediately understood that he was not the dean of once. he wanted to appear calm, with his usual jokes and yet we understood that as soon as he asked for attention, the nightmares did not leave him alone: he told us that we were just paranoid.

only after discovering that it was an angel, castiel who had brought him back to life and only after many battles we managed to understand what had happened in hell and what he had to endure.

now besides lilith we also have to face another problem, that is we have to defend Anna both from the angels who want to kill her, and from the demons who want to take her to know everything the angels say.

"sam do you know where anna is?"

sam looks around and then shakes his head.

"dean is missing too."he then points out to me

i can't help but think of a thousand things, that maybe someone had taken anna and dean had been involved, so together with sam we went to look for them.

we look for them everywhere screaming their names, when then we see dean's impala parked near the shed where we took refuge.

it doesn't take long to realize that anna and dean were in the car and that they were having sex.

"is that what i think it is?" i ask almost crying to sam who is next to me

sam nods slightly and then gently takes me back to the shed.

i don't know exactly how much time passes, but anna and dean return and manage to pretend that nothing had happened between them.

at the end of the day, anna has regained her grace and disappeared, the two demons have been killed and both alaistair and the two angels are gone, leaving us alone.

dean comes closer to me to see if i'm hurt but i move away, i don't want him to touch me.

"what's wrong with you?"

i look into his eyes that i loved so much, that have made me smile so many times and that have made me happy but that today, have disappointed me.

"you fucked anna."

ruby and sam, who were talking, stop and look at us in silence.

dean just looks at me, probably has no answer.

"i.."

"don't try to justify yourself because there is no reason in the world that he pushed you between her legs."

the tears fall copiously on my face, I didn't want to cry, especially not in front of him.

"i'm sorry i don't know what came over me."

i shake my head laughing bitterly because that's exactly what i expected.

"you are so different from when you came back dean and trust me it's something i understand, from what you went through it's obvious that every part of you has changed but not this dean, everything but not this. you fucked someone else while i was a few steps away."

now i can't stop the tears but i manage to stop dean when he tries to get closer.

"don't take another step and don't touch me. as soon as all this is over and i hope it's soon, you won't see me anymore. In these months i have accepted everything: your behavior, your wanting to keep me at a distance and your wanting to remain silent, i have accepted all of this because i love you dean but i cant stand the thought that you touched another woman."

the room falls silent, even ruby who always has a joke ready decides that this is not the best time.

when i leave the shed, no one is following me and i manage to stay alone with my thoughts even if i already have clear ideas: my relationship with dean is over.

[punkyarabella]

Simple Enough

Summary: You've been single for too long so your best friend forces you to attend a cooking class. But you're not the only one here against your will.

Warnings: none, only fluff

1400+ words

Masterlist

You sighed as you looked up at the bright sign on the front of the building, advertising the cooking classes your best friend made you sign up for. Leah was concerned, you had been single for more than a year now, and showed no interest in joining the dating scene. She figured a cooking class would be a good start to meet some people.

Leah swore up and down that she would come with you, but of course, you had been waiting for ten minutes, and still no sign of the traitor.

You

You're not coming are you?

Leah

Sorry, have fun 💋

You

🖕

Huffing, you put your phone back in your purse, and glanced at the doors again, the nerves twisting in your stomach.

On your right, a car slowed down to let out a passenger.

"I hate you, you know that, right?" The man on the sidewalk grunted through the open window.

"I promise you'll love me!" The driver laughed, before leaving.

The man turned to look at the building, and at you. Because you were still staring. He seemed huge compared to the small car he just stepped out of, his large shoulders clad in leather, just like his hands, dark eyebrows furrowed over slightly confused blue eyes.

"Hi," you smiled awkwardly. "Here against your will too?"

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, glancing at the doors, "something like that."

Although uncomfortable, he seemed nice.

"My friend ditched me, wanna team up?" you offered.

He eyed you up and down, and shrugged, "sure."

You smiled again and he liked that. You seemed inviting, warm and safe compared to everything he had known until now.

"I'm Bucky," he stepped closer, offering you a gloved hand.

You shook it enthusiastically and gave him your name. Bucky repeated it once, testing the words on his tongue.

"Alright, ready?" you raised an eyebrow, a hand hovering above the door handle. He only nodded.

Inside, a few other people were gathering in pairs around tables covered with ingredients and tools, and you quickly realized they were mostly couples. Did you just invite a stranger to a first date? You cringed inside, but you had to admit that this stranger was quite easy on the eyes. You followed Bucky to a table and dropped your purse and jacket next to it. Bucky shed his too, revealing a long-sleeved shirt, but he kept his gloves.

"Are you cold?" you nodded at the leather.

He looked away, "no."

Alright then. The teacher showed up and started the class. The recipe of the day was fried chicken with a side of vegetables. Simple enough, you thought. The first step, chopping the vegetables. You turned toward Bucky.

"Are you good with knives, Bucky?" you raised an eyebrow, it seemed to be a quirk of yours.

He liked how his name sounded on your lips, soft and harmless.

"Yeah, I guess," he seemed even more uncomfortable somehow.

"Great, I don't like 'em, almost chopped off a finger trying to slice a potato the other day," you scoffed, and the corners of Bucky's lips curved up quickly but you didn't miss it.

"I'll handle the knife, then," he answered and you smiled.

You washed the vegetables before handing them to him. He took the knife in his right hand and started to cut. You were mesmerized. The speed, the precision, the agility.

"Wow, you're good good," you chuckled and he felt a nice warmth in his chest. It'd been a long time since he had impressed a pretty lady. "Where the hell did you learn that?"

"Um," the blade slowed down, "I was in the army."

That was the answer the therapist suggested when he told her how uncomfortable he'd get at this kind of question. You seemed satisfied with it and turned to get the spices.

"Alright, now we need to start the fryer," you plugged in the machine.

"That thing?" he looked suspicious of it.

"Yeah, for the chicken." You pushed a few buttons and Bucky kept staring at the machine. "You don't like robots?"

He looked at you, and shook his head, "never used 'em."

You frowned at that, most people had at least used an electric whisk or a mixer, and the army definitely used robots now. He wished the ground swallowed him. Now you would think about how weird he was.

"Okay," you shrugged, with a warm smile, "you handle the knives and I handle the robot."

Bucky let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. You turned on the fryer, announcing what each button pressed was for, and Bucky smiled softly as he watched above your shoulder. The sweet smell of your perfume eased his nerves.

Following the teacher's instructions, you fried the chicken while Bucky took care of the vegetables. You two worked well together, chatting about random stuff while maneuvering around the table, blissfully ignoring the dozen people surrounding you. You even got three small chuckles out of Bucky, and it was the most delightful thing you heard in a while.

"Ouch," you hissed, stepping away from the fryer.

In a second, Bucky was next to you. "What did you do?"

"Some oil got on my hand, it's alright," you showed him your slightly red skin and he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching it.

"Let me do it, peaches. I just take the handle and pull it out right?"

You could only stare at him, an eyebrow raised, always the left one.

"Peaches?" you grinned, and your stomach tied in a knot when he immediately blushed.

"Sorry, um, your perfume smell like peaches," Bucky looked anywhere else but your face. "I like peaches."

"Oh," and now you were blushing too.

Alright, you had to admit Leah was right about this cooking class. But you'd never say that to her face.

"So, the handle?" Bucky glanced at you.

"Oh, yeah, just take it out and put it there," you shook your head and he nodded.

And that's when shit hit the fan. Bucky stepped closer to the fryer, but you forgot to warn him about the short cable hanging in the air, and he stepped on it, unplugging it in the process. You barely registered what happened that Bucky had already stopped the machine from tumbling over, spilling boiling oil on his left hand.

"Oh my God, your hand!" you yelped, catching everyone's attention.

"What's going on?" The teacher approached your table.

"Nothing, the robot almost fell over and I just got a few drops on my hand," Bucky wished for this moment to be over, his left hand clutched behind his back.

"What? No! You've got at least third-degree burns!" You frowned.

"I'll put some water on it," he offered, just so you'd stop worrying and talking about his hand.

But you followed him to the bathroom. You felt guilty, if you hadn't burned yourself, he wouldn't have needed to step in, literally.

"Are you sure, Bucky? You got a lot of oil on there!"

"Yes, don't worry, peaches." He tried to turn his back to you while standing over the sink, but you needed to make sure he was okay so you stood right next to the small sink.

"The leather will melt into your skin!"

"I, uh-" Bucky glanced at you and realized you were not backing down anytime soon. "I don't have skin." His eyes screwed shut at that.

You blinked. It took you a second but you remembered. He told you he had been in the army.

"It's a prosthetic," your voice was soft, your eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," he bit his lip, finally looking into your eyes again.

"Did the oil damage it?"

Bucky laughed at that and you frowned.

"No, the oil did not damage it," he looked slightly more comfortable now.

"Is it just the hand?"

"The whole arm and shoulder," he shrugged it.

"Wow," you glanced at it but went right back to the blue of his eyes. "In the army?"

"Uh, yeah," he picked at the little melted pieces of leather now poking out of his glove.

You took a second to look at his face, and you noticed the small scars, the lines dug by years of battle, and the tired eyes.

"Alright. You wanna get back in there?"

"I'd rather not," Bucky breathed out, and you nodded.

"Coffee?"

He looked at you, the hint of a smile in his eyes. You were not freaked out, you were not running for the hills. And for God's sake, you were gorgeous.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Wolverine Hurt/Comfort Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

tommorow's jokes have yet to be laughed at (or said) by ArchaicVampire - Rated T

“Logan? What are you doing up, mein freund?” Logan thinks up a million things he could say, like I’ll sleep when I’m dead or I was doing my usual midnight pushups, but he doesn’t say any of that. There’s no use bothering him with bullshit excuses. “You’re the only one who understands.” The skeletons in Logan's closet are haunting him again. There's only one man in the mansion that truly knows how he feels.

O Memory, where is now my faith. by justbefeathersandthequietofthefall - Rated T

Logan vs Pain. i.e. Dealing with the fact that superhuman healing doesn't stop getting injured hurting like a bitch.

Call Me by My Name by CNWrites - Rated G

They were misfits on a team of misfits. Logan was used to that kind of crap. If he had put down bets, he would have said that Nightcrawler was the kind of guy who couldn’t take it. Apparently, they were both sticking around. ____________________________ In which we see five times Logan used something other than Kurt's name, and one time he actually used it.

There's a room where the light won't find you by Notsogoodwithnames - Rated T

Logan knows he was made for nothing but war. He never went to school. He never even took care of many children. Not even your own children. He certainly isn't qualified to teach anything that didn't involve the shedding of blood. Xavier saved him. The X-men saved him. Not only from himself but in so many ways than he can explain. Taking care of these kids is not going to fix anything. Or clean his hands, not even a bit, he's aware of that. But if there's a chance that he can do something right, better than anything he ever did, to help these kids have a better chance than he did. Then he's going for it.

So this is what it feels like. by OwBoy - Not Rated

“Sir?” the woman said as she came more into the light. Her shoes made a dull clopping noise with each step she took towards Logan. “Wha…?” Logan asked, his voice slurred. “The girl,” the woman said, nodding toward Laura, “Is she your daughter?” Logan's gaze once again fell on Laura and he nodded. “I thought so,” a slight smile crossed the woman's features as she spoke. “She looks just like you.” “Where…” Logan’s words drifted off as he took in the rest of the room. “Where am I?” he asked. “You’re in Canada,” she answered. “In a refugee town given to mutants by the Canadian government. It’s called Eden.” “Eden.” Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The place he said didn’t exist, the place Laura and the other believed they’d find and make their new home, the place from that stupid comic book, it actually existed. AKA: What if Charles, Logan, and Laura had all made it to Eden alive and started a new life together? Fluff, angst, domestic life, and brewing romance.

The same bell chiming the hour on the clock, and everything changed. by justbefeathersandthequietofthefall - Rated T

He drifted through the hallways, with every recognisable face sending him reeling. A few awkward conversations later, and he was in the Professor’s office having years of history dropped on him. Despite the importance of this, he was barely present in the conversation – a fact which Charles didn’t miss, who told him to go let it all sink in and that they’d continue later. ‘Let it all sink in’?

Fucking hell.

Exploring Logan's mental state after the events of Days of Future Past

Never Take for Granted by CNWrites - Rated G

Kurt Wagner would consider himself a fairly appreciative person. Perhaps that instinctual value of appreciation was the reason he felt giddy, warm, so overcome with love for his friend that he could practically feel it bursting out of his chest. “Don’t move ‘round, elf.” A heavy hand rested on an arm that Kurt hadn’t even realized he was trying to move. “Yer hopped up on morphine, you idiot. Yer gonna break your stitches if ya can’t cool it.” Oh. Or maybe that was why. _______________________ In which Kurt spends some time in the med bay after taking a hit for Wolverine. Luckily, his friend isn't the kind of person to leave his side.

[bradshawsbaby]

Only You

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: Based on this Anon request! I also included some dialogue from my headcanon, Rooster As A Father (Pt. 1) towards the end.

Warnings: Angst related to difficulty getting pregnant, mentions of menstruation, ovulation, and pregnancy, general fluff. Gets NSFW (18+) due to the Bradshaws’ lovemaking.

You didn’t understand.

For so much of your life, you’d heard countless women complain about how hard it was to avoid getting pregnant. You never thought it would be so difficult to actually get pregnant.

You and Bradley had gotten married in February, and the both of you had known from the beginning that you wanted to try to start a family right away. And yet, months later, still nothing.

It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. You and your husband couldn’t keep your hands off each other most of the time. With all the lovemaking going on in your home, you’d been sure that you would end up pregnant sooner rather than later. After a couple months of negative pregnancy tests, however, you decided to get more serious about charting your cycles and tracking your ovulation. You’d heard that some women’s windows of fertility were very narrow, so maybe you and Bradley had just been missing the mark each time.

So, for the past few months, you’d been charting and tracking like it was a full-time job. Except for the times when Bradley had to travel for work, you made sure that the two of you were always having sex during the days when you were supposed to be your most fertile.

Yet still…nothing.

Growing worried, you’d spoken to your doctor, hoping she would have some advice to offer to assuage your fears. Instead, her words had only caused you more stress.

“It’s not uncommon for women to have a harder time getting pregnant, especially the first time,” Dr. Russo told you. “Most people have this false idea that it’s the easiest thing in the world to get pregnant, but the truth is that the conditions have to be just right. I know you’ve been charting and tracking, and that’s good, but don’t be surprised if it still takes a few months.”

“Is there some chance that I could be—I mean, that I’ll never—you know?” you asked, squeezing your hands in your lap and biting down roughly on your lower lip to hold back the tears that threatened to spill forth. It was your greatest fear and one you hadn’t even been able to utter out loud.

Dr. Russo offered a comforting, empathetic smile. “Don’t make yourself sick worrying about that. It’s still early. We don’t generally start testing for fertility issues until after a year of trying with no success.”

A year? You had to keep trying and being disappointed with no other answers for at least a year?

Bradley had the patience of a saint as you struggled to come to terms with the difficulties you were having. He was constantly reassuring you, reminding you how much he loved you, telling you that he just knew it was going to happen for the two of you. He was always optimistic, but you knew it weighed heavily on him, too. He wanted to be a father just as badly as you wanted to be a mother, and part of him started to become concerned that maybe he was the one with the problem.

“Dr. Russo really said that we have to wait at least a year?” he asked one night as you were lying in his arms in bed, sniffling softly after receiving another negative test result.

You just nodded, resting your cheek against his chest and clinging to him.

“We’re not going to need it, honey,” Bradley murmured softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your hair. He sounded more confident than you felt. “By next year, we’re going to have a baby. I just know it.”

Bradley’s confidence was the only thing that held you together every time a cruel little negative sign glared back at you from the countless pregnancy tests you took. You’d come to grow used to them over the past couple months, and less tears were shed than there had been in the beginning. But it was still hard. It was always hard.

Which was why when you stepped into the bathroom this morning and spotted the blood staining your underwear, you hadn’t been able to hold it together.

You didn’t understand.

It wasn’t fair.

You and Bradley wanted this more than anything.

Why was it so hard?

You were barely able to grab a pad and clean yourself up, your hands were trembling so much. And as you stood at the sink, washing your shaking hands, your knees suddenly buckled and you fell to the floor from the force of your sobs.

Curling up on the cold tile floor, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them, locking your arms around your legs and weeping harder than you had in a long time. Your heart was broken. You felt like you had tried everything, tried to do everything right, and nothing was working. What did you do wrong? What were you doing wrong? Would this ever happen for you?

Bradley had the day off from work and had gone out earlier for a morning run and to swing by your favorite cafe to pick up coffee and bagels. As soon as he arrived back at the apartment and heard your sobs coming from the bathroom, however, he dropped everything in the kitchen and rushed to be by your side.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?” he asked, managing to keep his voice calm despite the obvious worry marking his gaze. He immediately dropped down to his knees beside you, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you into his lap as he settled himself on the floor, his back resting against the bathtub.

Unable to speak without choking on your tears, you lifted a hand and pointed a trembling finger at the package of pads you’d left sitting on the counter. Taking a shuddering breath, you buried your face in your husband’s neck, your tears staining the collar of his sweaty T-shirt.

Bradley immediately understood your meaning and wrapped you tighter in his arms, stroking your hair with one hand and rubbing soothing circles on your back with the other. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I know. I know, shh,” he murmured gently, pressing his lips against your forehead and brushing soft kisses there. “Shh, I’m here. I’ve got you,” he whispered, rocking you back and forth and holding you close as you cried.

Once you finally calmed down somewhat, Bradley lifted you into his arms and carried you back to your bedroom, settling you down on top of the comforter and then laying down beside you.

“I hate it when you cry,” he told you sadly, pulling you closer to him and brushing away a few stubborn tears that were crystallizing on your cheeks. “It kills me to see you this upset, honey.”

You sniffled softly in response, wiping at your damp cheeks and lifting your shining eyes to look up at your husband. “I just—I thought that maybe this time—but I guess that’s stupid, right? Why would this time be any different?”

“It’s not stupid, baby,” Bradley said quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s going to happen. I know it is. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to give you a baby sooner,” he added, stroking your cheek with gentle fingers.

“You’re sorry?” you asked, eyes widening slightly. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I know how badly you want to start a family,” you murmured, chin wobbling once again as more tears started to fall.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bradley said softly, kissing each of your wet cheeks. “We both want to start a family. And we’re both in this together,” he told you, lifting your hand and lacing his fingers through yours. You could feel the coolness of his wedding band pressing against your skin. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me, baby.”

“I just—I don’t understand,” you admitted, your voice small and sad, which broke Bradley’s heart. “I’ve been trying so hard to track everything and chart exactly when I’m going to be ovulating and I thought that by now—”

“I think you should stop doing that,” Bradley said suddenly, holding your hand close to his chest and looking intently into your eyes.

“What?” you asked in surprise, your pulse stuttering in your veins for a few seconds.

“I think you should stop worrying about all the charting and the tracking,” Bradley repeated, putting more emphasis on his words this time. “I can see how stressed it’s making you, and I hate it,” he admitted, his thumb tenderly caressing the top of your cheekbone as he held your face in his hand. “Making love shouldn’t be a job or a chore, honey. It should be something we do because we want to, because we love each other. And I love you so much. I don’t need a chart or a calendar to tell me when to prove that to you,” he finished, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to your lips.

You bit your lower lip, feeling suddenly ashamed. Your husband was right. Making love had always been so deeply personal and intimate between the two of you. It was the time when the two of you became one, when words were no longer needed, or even possible, and you expressed your love in a million little ways that couldn’t be shared through words alone. But over the past couple months, you had turned it into more of an act of labor than an act of love. You’d been so stressed and tense and worried that you hadn’t even been able to fully enjoy it, which meant that Bradley couldn’t have been enjoying it either. He just wanted you to be happy. You wanted the same for him. That’s what love was.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You didn’t even care that he was still sweaty and sticky from his morning run. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, nothing to apologize for, right?” Bradley told you lovingly, brushing your hair back from your face. “We’re going to throw those charts out the window, and just focus on you and me, okay? You and me.”

“You and me,” you nodded in agreement, soaking in the comfort your husband provided as the two of you lay there together in comfortable silence, holding one another tightly.

Over the course of the next week, Bradley helped you get rid of everything you’d been using to chart your cycles and track your ovulation. You threw out the notebooks and logs you’d been using, and you deleted all the apps off your phone. It was a little hard to let go at first, but with Bradley’s support and encouragement, you were able to do so without looking back.

Despite getting rid of all that had become a stumbling block in your intimacy with your husband, however, you and Bradley hadn’t made love since doing so. Your period this month had been a rough one, and you’d been struggling with cramps and emotional mood swings all week. None of it was exactly a recipe for romance.

Thankfully, your period had finally ended the day before, and you were starting to feel like yourself again as you stood over the stove, preparing dinner for when Bradley returned home from work. It was going to be a fairly simple meal of sauteed vegetables, rice, and chicken since that’s what you had the energy for tonight.

So focused were you on what you were doing that you didn’t even hear the front door to your apartment open, nor did you know Bradley had walked into the kitchen until he suddenly had his arms wrapped around you from behind, kissing your jaw affectionately.

“I didn’t even hear you come in!” you gasped in surprise, setting your spatula down on the counter and turning your head slightly to catch his eyes.

“What can I say? The Navy teaches us how to be stealthy,” Bradley chuckled, dropping a kiss on your lips and nuzzling his cheek against yours as he glanced down at the food on the stove. “Smells delicious, honey.”

“It should be ready soon,” you told him, lifting the spatula once more to stir the vegetables around in the pan.

Bradley nodded in response. He didn’t say anything else, but he also didn’t make any move to let go of you or go take a shower, like he usually did when he came home from work.

“It might be a little easier for me to work if I didn’t have a 6’1 aviator clinging to me,” you teased with a smile, tilting your head once more to look at him.

Bradley smiled in response, but still didn’t say anything, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you as if he were a man dying of thirst. Your stomach suddenly knotted and your mouth went dry at the sight of the raw, naked need in his gaze. Lowering his head, he began to pepper your neck and jawline with kisses, his breath warm against your increasingly flushed skin.

“Bradley,” you sighed softly, tipping your head back so that it was resting against his shoulder. Your eyes fluttered closed as his large hands gripped at your waist more tightly, his fingers kneading your skin through the light fabric of the T-shirt dress you’d thrown on earlier after taking a shower.

Your husband’s lips began to take a fervent path down your neck and across your shoulder, his mouth practically burning your skin through your clothes as his kisses stoked a fire of desire deep inside you. You dropped the spatula down onto the counter with a clatter as his hands reached up and lightly cupped your breasts, squeezing tenderly even as he began to nip and nibble at the delicate skin of your throat with his teeth.

“Honey,” you moaned, your toes curling with a need that clearly matched his own. It felt like it had been so long since the two of you had been like this, spontaneously showing your desire for each other in the middle of the kitchen instead of carefully mapping out exactly when the best times to have sex were.

You could feel rather than see your husband smiling against your neck in response, sucking on the skin lightly as he slowly moved his hands downward, one hand lifting the hem of your dress, while the other slid inside the waistband of your panties. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers began gently exploring, one calloused digit running deftly up and down your slit, which was quickly growing slick with want.

You’re not sure what possessed you to think it, let alone say it out loud, but all of a sudden you blurted out, “I’m not ovulating today!”

Bradley’s movements stilled immediately, his lips pulling away from your neck and his hand sliding out from between your legs. You felt your cheeks growing hot in shame and embarrassment as he slowly turned you around to face him, his hands on your hips.

“Honey…” he began, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I just meant—I just didn’t want you to think—I probably won’t get pregnant if we—”

“I don’t care about that, remember?” Bradley asked softly, reaching up to cup your face in his hands, lifting your head so that you had no choice but to look up at him. “I just want you, baby. Only you. All the other stuff? It’ll happen when it’s meant to. I know it will. But right now, I just want you. Not for any other reason than I just want to make love to my beautiful wife.”

Tears springing to your eyes, you nodded your head slowly and stood on your tiptoes to press a slow kiss to your husband’s lips, your arms sliding around his shoulders as your fingers trailed upward to glide through his hair.

Kissing you back in a tame manner that belied the desperate hunger he felt burning deep inside, Bradley reached behind you and quickly turned off the heat on the stove, not feeling much in the mood for anything besides you at the moment. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer to his chest, his kiss intensifying as his tongue brushed against your lips, begging for entrance to your sweet mouth.

You obliged him immediately, his tongue moving in tandem with yours as you devoured each other in a rush of need and desire. Neither of you broke the contact as Bradley began pulling you away from the stove, agilely moving backwards towards the living room and taking you with him.

Your hands were all over each other, his groping at your butt through the thin fabric of your dress and yours tugging helplessly at the black T-shirt he’d worn home from work, the one that always looked so good on him and never failed to set your senses in a tizzy.

When his legs finally hit the back of the couch, Bradley finally stopped, his hands moving upward to bury themselves in your hair as he continued to kiss you soundly, your lips already feeling swollen and swore from his ministrations, though you’d be damned if you wanted him to stop.

The two of you finally broke away from one another, panting for air, when it seemed as though your lungs would give out if you waited another second longer. Bradley’s eyes were dark and swirling with desire as he gazed at you, and you knew the same expression must have been on your face as you drank in the sight of him. Without words, you began undressing each other, Bradley pulling your dress over your head as you reached to unbutton and unzip his jeans. Soon enough, your bra and panties, and his T-shirt and boxers, had joined the growing collection of clothes littering the living room floor.

Naked and unable to hide an inch of yourselves from each other, you each reached out without hesitation, Bradley’s hands gliding down your back as your hands slid up his chest, taking in his hard, muscular form.

“My sweet girl,” Bradley whispered against your ear, his arousal evident as he pressed against your thigh. “I need you so badly,” he groaned, his fingers tightening their grip on your skin. He pulled back to look into your eyes, resting his forehead against yours as he waited on your signal to make another move.

“I need you, too,” you whispered, kissing him tenderly.

Nodding slowly, Bradley brushed a kiss against your forehead, then lowered himself down onto the couch, sitting in front of you and then holding out his hands for you so that you could move forward, your legs straddling his thighs as you stood over him.

“Baby, this is all up to you,” Bradley told you, his hands reaching out to stroke your thighs, then slowly gliding upwards to grasp at your waist. “It’s whatever you need. You set the pace, honey, and I’ll follow you.”

Your husband’s words, delivered in that husky voice of his that always deepened when he was overcome with need for you, turned you on more than anything and had you practically dripping as you squeezed your thighs together and gazed down at him. Nodding, you leaned forward and climbed onto the couch, your knees pressing into the soft fabric as you straddled Bradley’s lap, your smooth skin brushing against the fuzz of the hair on his legs as you met his gaze and hovered over his hard length.

“Help me?” you asked quietly, resting your hands on his shoulders and not breaking eye contact with him.

Swallowing deeply, Bradley nodded, holding his base steady with one hand as he wrapped his other hand around your waist, carefully guiding you towards his tip.

Letting out a soft sigh of pleasure, you slowly rubbed yourself against the tip of his penis, which was already red and swollen in anticipation. You bit down on your lower lip as you moved your hips back and forth slowly, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each second that ticked by.

“Baby,” Bradley groaned out, trailing kisses along the tops of your breasts as you moved against him, slowly beginning to lower yourself down. You took him inch by tantalizingly slow inch, soft gasps and moans escaping your mouth as he began to stretch you, especially from this angle.

“That’s it, honey,” Bradley whispered encouragingly, rubbing your thigh gently as he felt you trembling around him, continuing to lower yourself down until he was all the way inside you and you were resting fully on his lap. “That’s it. That’s my beautiful baby.”

You just stayed like that for a while, neither of you moving as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, the heat from both your bodies causing sweat to bead and drip down your skin. As you broke away for air, Bradley spotted one lone bead of sweat trailing down between your breasts and leaned forward to lick it away, his lips then moving to latch onto your breasts, kissing and nibbling at them with tender attention.

Your hair cascaded down your back as your head tilted backwards, your fingers digging into your husband’s shoulders as you let out a soft mewl of approval. Taking a deep breath, you carefully lifted yourself up slightly and began to roll your hips, your movements slow and gentle as you began to ride Bradley in earnest.

Bradley let out a gasp of pleasure at your sudden movement, his arm coming to wrap around your waist as he guided you, following your pace just as he had promised. “That’s it, honey. It feels so good. You feel so good,” he praised you, his breath catching in his throat as you picked up the pace just a tiny fraction, your thighs squeezing him tightly as your hips bucked against his.

Clinging to Bradley, you found your moans and gasps getting louder as wave after wave of pleasure began coursing through you. He had let you set the pace, had let you move as fast or as slow as you needed, and now he was meeting you thrust for thrust, rolling his hips in tandem with yours and causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure as his thickness penetrated you deeper and deeper with each stroke, massaging your walls and knocking at the perfect angle against your G-spot.

“Can I touch you here, baby?” Bradley asked in a hoarse whisper, his thumb hovering above your clit as he looked up at you. He was so sweet, your husband, always wanting to make sure that everything was so good for you, especially now when you’d been feeling so low.

“Y-yes,” you panted, nodding your head as you kissed him quickly. “Please,” you begged, letting out a sharp cry when his calloused finger brushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt your thighs trembling as he began to rub you, whispering to you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

As you continued to roll your hips and bounce up and down slowly, soaking in every moment, you suddenly felt something breaking open inside you. It had been so long since you had allowed yourself to just enjoy this time with your husband—to enjoy loving him and being loved by him. It felt like it had been forever since the two of you had made love without tension coiling in your back and the fear of another negative pregnancy test hovering at the forefront of your mind.

You didn’t feel any of those things right now. For the first time in a long time, your body was relaxed and you felt nothing but pleasure and the love for your husband that had always marked the time you spent in each other’s arms. As the two of you made love on your couch on a random Monday evening, you felt your mind, heart, and body healing in a way you had so desperately needed.

Clinging more tightly to Bradley, you felt the tears beginning to roll down your cheeks like raindrops, crashing down on your husband’s shoulders as your body melded to his.

“Baby,” Bradley called to you, his voice now laced with concern instead of desire. “Baby, look at me,” he said, reaching up to cup your cheeks in his hands. “We can stop. Do you want to stop?”

“No,” you told him firmly, shaking your head as you looked at him, the smallest hint of a smile curving your lips. “No, please. I’m okay. They’re happy tears,” you explained, resting your hands on the back of his neck and laying your forehead against his. “I love you so much. I just want you. Only you,” you murmured, echoing his words from before.

Holding the back of your head in his hand, Bradley brought your mouth down against his, kissing you deeply as the two of you continued to rock your bodies together in a smooth rhythm, the pleasure cresting until you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it for much longer.

“Honey,” you gasped, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his body.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Bradley to know what you meant. “I know, baby. Me, too. Just let go,” he coaxed, stroking your back softly.

When you finally reached your climax, it wasn’t with a loud cry or a scream of pleasure. Instead, it was with a soft gasp, so soft that only your husband could hear it as you reclined against his chest, your legs continuing to shake as you remained straddled across his lap.

“There you go, honey,” Bradley murmured, his lips brushing against the top of your head as he held you through it. “There you go. Oh, honey.”

You continued to rest atop your husband until he came, too, finishing inside you with a soft groan of your name. “Love you,” he mumbled in exhaustion, kissing you with greedy lips as you both sat tangled up in each other’s arms.

“I love you, too,” you told him, gently caressing his cheek.

Still buried deep inside you, Bradley lifted you up off the couch and carried you to the bathroom, where the two of you took a hot shower together before collapsing into bed, dinner long forgotten.

As you lay beside the man who you had pledged your entire life to, more in love with him than ever before, you reached out and gently stroked his skin, snuggling closer to him in bed. “Whatever happens, Bradley, no matter what, it’s always going to be you and me,” you whispered. “Always.”

“Always, honey,” Bradley nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You and me.”

A couple months later, you and Bradley were cuddled up on the couch, your Christmas tree glowing in the corner of the living room as you watched It’s A Wonderful Life, one of your favorite movies. You’d been filled with eager anticipation all day, and the moment was finally here.

“I want my baby to look like you,” Mary told George Bailey, beaming up at her husband as she revealed that she was carrying their first child.

“You know,” you said at that moment, popping a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth in an attempt to mask your jittery nerves. “I have to agree with Mary on that one.”

“What do you mean?” Bradley asked, brushing some of your hair behind your ear and looking down at you curiously.

“I want my baby to look like you, too,” you told him, your eyes meeting his as you leaned back against his chest.

“Your…your b-baby?” Bradley stuttered, his eyes widening in shock. You almost laughed at how adorably dumbfounded he looked. “Honey, does that mean you’re…?”

“I’m pregnant,” you nodded, tears suddenly springing to your eyes.

Bradley was quiet for a moment before letting out a loud whoop of joy, wrapping his arms around you tightly and lifting you up off the couch, swinging you around. “Best early Christmas present ever,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you tenderly. “I knew it was going to happen, baby, I knew it!”

“Looks like now it’s you and me and Baby B,” you beamed, your smile even wider than Mary Bailey’s.

Bradley smiled down at you, tears shining in his own eyes. “Always, baby. Always.”