#House Buyers Kitchener

[wildgeese98]

We should lean more into the fact that Helen was a real estate agent before she got Distortioned. After Helen takes over, the Distortion hallways should start looking like a really sterile, beige, house set up to be shown to potential buyers.

Endless hallways in various different muted pastel colors. The same three generic paintings repeated over and over.

A maze of open plan kitchens that all lead into each other endlessly. Each identical in layout but with portions and angles slightly off in different ways.

Hallways lined with doors that all lead to the same immaculately neat child's bedroom stretching on and on, seemingly forever.

A living room that seems normal at first but slowly fills with more and more bowls of fake fruit and tasteful flower arrangements.

A house where every room is a lie. Everything set up carefully in a facsimile of a welcoming home but if you scratch the surface you'll find it to be cold and artificial.

That would have been a cool thing to do with her domain in season 5 too. You would easily do something with it about being forced to perform the heteronormative ideals of domestic life or something like that.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I feel sick. I want this house so badly, and it happens to be in my home state, but $500K is too much. 1977 ranch style in Hamilton, NJ. 3bds, 2ba, asking $500K. Shit.

Cute foyer. Watch a new buyer come in and cover up all the pink with gray.

Oh, for a pink front door.

I heard that the woman who is selling it is sad, but she is downsizing. I downsized, too, but I would buy this. Who cares? I'll walk thru the rooms naked, all by myself. And, when my BF arrives on a K1 visa, I'll give him a room or 2 to do up his way.

The living room is just the right size.

This is cute.

Crafter's dream room.

This kitchen. The cabinets. And, the stairs go up to a library. I'm in heaven.

Retro Barbie dining room. Since she's downsizing, I wonder if any of the larger pieces, like that sideboard, will convey.

The guest half bath with pink sink.

The primary is so cute. You know, when the home is empty, the new owner could add other colors. Doesn't have to be all pink.

It's a small ranch, so it has a small 3pc. bath. That's the way they were built.

Bd. #2 is in pastels.

Wow, check out this closet.

Cut-out in the cellar door for a cat?

No creepy dark basement stairs here.

Organization. The owner designs and sells containers.

This is nice, but I would at least do the ceiling.

Patio.

Nice row of trees in the yard. .36 acre lot. NJ is expensive where I live, b/c it has a lot of NYC commuters, but I didn't that Hamilton was this expensive.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/835-Hughes-Dr-Hamilton-NJ-08690/38968120_zpid/

[arcaneauthor]

would u be able to do han jisung cute things he does as your bf?

Cute things Han does as your bf

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, just Han being a lovable dork basically, I’m so bad at tags idk

Warnings: mentioned anxiety, mentioned kissing ig?? Apparently I’m bad at warnings too

Author’s note: As someone who fully believes there is not near enough Han fics on this app I’m so glad you requested this. Hope you like it!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He’s tried on multiple occasions to cook these extravagant meals to surprise you with when you get home but they almost always end up with you coming through the door to the smell of something burning as Han panickedly scrambles around the kitchen. And the times it’s not immediately went up in flames, it’s mostly inedible.

His face always turns beat red the moment you both take that first bite and he watches as you struggle to try to act like it’s good in order to save his feelings before you both just in the long run decide take-out is the best option.

As we all know Han himself has pretty bad social anxiety which means he knows the signs very well. So he’ll be the first to notice when you’re feeling anxious or your social battery drains. He’ll start rubbing your back or put a hand on your thigh to try to comfort you without drawing too much unwanted attention to your current condition knowing that will just make it worse, or if it gets really bad he’ll excuse y’all and make up some kind of excuse as to why you have to leave.

This of course makes you feel bad and start apologizing to which he immediately assures you it’s completely fine and laugh it off about how it was a boring party anyway. (It wasn’t. He was actually planning on staying another hour or two but he would never tell you that)

Always so adorably clumsy. Like there’s been multiple instances where he’s leaned in for a kiss too enthusiastically and you’ve bumped foreheads. His boba eyes turn so round as he immediately starts spewing apologizes, frantically checking your forehead for a mark at which you just start chuckling at the absurdity and cuteness of your boyfriend. Which in turn makes him laugh and then it’s just so contagious that y’all both start cackling.

As Han himself has stated, he is a very bad impulsive buyer. Which means he will literally buy you presents like every other day. It’s to the point where you have to very kindly tell him that even though you loved his gifts, if he kept buying them so frequently he would end up broke lol

Makes it Tea time all the time. Girl I’m telling you spill the tea to this man at every possible moment, he 👏eats 👏it 👏up👏. Literally the best to gossip with.

He sets up little date nights at the house for you since you’d both rather stay in together most of the time anyway. Though these “date nights” usually end up looking like what people would normally picture as a “girls night” lol. Face masks, cups of tea, kdrama playing, etc. but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Neck kisses. Just-yeah

Constantly cracking cheesy jokes around you just cause he loves making you laugh.

Play wrestles with you which then somehow turns into a tickle fight as you both are giggling like children. Grabs you up by the waist when you try to escape him. “Oh no I’m not done with you yet.” You’re kicking your legs trying to get free while still laughing so hard tears are coming out your eyes.

Loves to take you on little one day trips when he has time. Not to some busy tourist spot but just some isolated scenic routes or something. Just you and him, windows down with music playing softly in the background as he locks his hand with yours. Just enjoying each other’s company as you gaze at the beautiful world around you

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

End notes: so this one kind of got out of hand lol but it’s not my fault this man has been bias wrecking me so hard lately😖

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐭✯

Matt sturniolo x black fem!reader

IN WHICH…Y/n has to put in work to get what she wants.

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! drugs (weed), guns are mentioned but not used, oral (m receiving), lil bit of thigh riding. that's really it.

Matt watches as the car full of high schoolers pulls off, scoffing and shaking his head in annoyance. This was their first time buying from him and they tried to screw him over, saying that someone told them a cheaper price than what Matt originally charged.

It took roughing one of them up for him to get his full payment.

He sighs as he climb in the car, his once good mood now dampened.

He should go home, possibly take a shower, and smoke himself into oblivion so he can relax and be ready for the next day of dealing, but he has an even better drug.

Y/n

A cute little thing.

It was something about her that always pulled Matt in. Maybe it was the way her eyes lit up when she saw him, or the way she would hug and kiss his cheek after dropping off. Maybe it was the way her pink glossed lips wrapped around the blunt when they would smoke at parties, making him imagine how they would look around his dick.

He doesn’t know, but he loves it.

He grabs his phone and clicks on the pinned messages with his favorite buyer.

Matt: in your neighborhood princess, you want your usual?

Y/n: yes plz! I just ran out this morning😔

Matt smiled to himself, instantly feeling a bit better about tonight.

she was always his favorite buyer

He makes the short drive to her house and parks the car, grabbing his bag and running up the front steps. He rings the doorbell and waits for her to answer.

The door creaks open and his eyes are instantly looking her up and down. She’s dressed in a baby pink cropped cami with lace trimmings, and a pair of light grey shorts that hug the mound between her legs perfectly.

He could see the outline of her lips along with the small damp patch.

“Matt?” Her soft voice brings him out of his trance. “Hey princess, you going to let me in?” She giggles softly at the pet name and lets the dealer inside.

He’s been in her house before, having been to the parties she’s thrown, or simply coming over to smoke with her.

“Shoes o-off, I know I know. Wouldn’t want to mess up your pink carpet.” He cuts her off, sliding his shoes off in the process. She smiles and skips past him, completely missing the way Matt watches her ass jiggle.

He sucks in a sharp breath and follows her into the living room. As he sits down on the couch, he notices a wine glass and a small charcuterie board on the coffee table. “Enjoying yourself tonight?” He questions as he opens up his bag, starting to pull out the paraphernalia. “Hm? Oh yes! It’s Saturday so I figured I’d just relax!”

He hums and grabs her weed jar off the table. As he fills the pink jar, Y/n goes to grab her wallet. She walks over to the stand her purse is on and looks for the small compact. Her brows furrow when she doesn’t see it.

“Where the hell is it?” She asks herself. She walks into the kitchen and looks across the counters, thinking maybe she placed it there.

She was wrong.

She goes to her bedroom and looks for it there, but once again she shows up empty-handed.

She bites her lip and begins to panic.

She’s not dumb, she knows how Matt is. He’s about his money and doesn’t appreciate people coming in the way of that. She’s heard the stories of Matt beating people an inch away from death for not giving him his payment.

He wouldn’t hurt her…right?

She begins to frantically run around her room, checking every crevice possible. She gets on her knees and checks under her bed, not noticing Matt walking in.

“Everything ok Princess?” She squeals in shock and quickly sits up, turning around with wide eyes.

“Hm?” She asks nervously.

He squints, noticing her timid posture. “I asked if everything was ok, you seem nervous.” She bites her lip and looks down, scared to tell him about the situation.

“Princes- I can’t find my wallet!” She spits out.

The silence between them is deafening, you could hear a pin drop.

“Matt I’m so-Shut up.” She quickly shuts her mouth hearing his tone. He’s never spoken to her like that, always making sure he spoke to her softly.

“You know, I had a very rough night. First, I had a bunch of high schoolers blowing up my phone because Chris was a dumbass who gave out my number, then the same high schoolers tried to fuck me over-“Her heart beats faster as he walks closer to her kneeling frame.

“I handled it though, but you want to know what?” Her hand shakes as Matt’s hand disappears behind his back and reappears with a gun.

She knew Matt carried, he was a dealer for Christ's sake, He would be dumb not to, however, she didn’t expect to have it possibly used on her.

The thought makes the dampness in her shorts worse.

Her eyes stay trained on the weapon as Matt stops in front of her, her whole body shaking. “I’m sick and tired of people messing with me and my money.”

She looks up at him with glossy eyes, her bottom lip wobbling slightly. “I-I don’t know where my wallet is! M-Matt I’m sorry I’m not trying to m-mess with your money!”

He coos sees the tears run down her face, raising the hand with the gun to wipe her tears. She flinches away making Matt take hold of her face, keeping her in place.

“A-are you going to hurt me!”

“Hurt you? Oh I’d never do that to you princess, you’re my favorite.” He whiles more of her tears away, enjoying the way her eyes glimmer in submission.

“And because you’re my favorite, I’m giving you a chance to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” She sniffles. Matt places the gun on her nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

“You have two options. I can leave with the weed I gave you and you no longer are my favorite buyer or, you blow me. Because you and I both know there was always tension between us and I can see the wetness seeping through those grey shorts of yours.”

She moves around a bit knowing he was right. Her Saturday nights were always spent drinking wine and masturbating to the thought of her dealer.

She never got the chance to masturbate due to Matt coming over. Now she has the opportunity for something even better.

Matt could see the cogs turning in her head, an internal battle to determine if she’s scared or turned on going on in her mind.

Matt would never actually hurt the girl, she’s too precious. He’s always had a soft spot for her, giving her more weed for a cheaper price, setting everything aside for her. Hell, he even came over to kill a spider for her one night despite having to do a drop-off.

He watches as her hands reach for his belt, “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I may be irritated but I’m not forcing you into anything. Say the word and I’ll leave princess.”

“I don’t want you to leave…”

He smirks down at her and lets go of wrists,

“Then work for it princess.”

The sexual tension is bursting at the seams, begging to be released. It’s been a long time coming, the two finally addressing the sexual tension between the two.

She pulls down his jeans and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. She instantly clenches her legs together seeing the aching phallus. It was long and had the perfect girth, a vein running up the side stopping at his mushroom tip that was a blushing red.

She wraps her manicured hand around the base and slowly begins jerk. Matt lets out a shakey exhale and closes his eyes.

“Come on princess you have to work harder than this,” she parts her lips and allows her tongue to dart out, kitten licking his tip before swirling her tongue around it.

She eventually wraps her lips around the tip, starting to bob her head, her hand working whatever else she couldn’t fit.

“Fuck- just like that princess.” Matt bites his lip watching her plump ones wrap around him. He’s been waiting for this moment, waiting for the day he gets to have his favorite girl the way his twisted mind desires.

His moans go straight to her core, the ache becoming bigger and bigger. She reaches into her shorts and begins to toy with her own clit.

Matt takes notice and chuckles, “Such a fucking whore,” she moans around him making him buck his hips in return. She gags, spit immediately pooling out the sides of her mouth.

“Shit-“ He removes the hand wrapped around him and demands for her to open her mouth. She does as told and instantly closes her eyes as Matt begins to fuck her throat.

Her gagging and choking noises bounce off the walls, driving Matt’s need for release.

She pulls her hand away from her clit, holding on to his thighs as he stalls in her throat. She looks up at him through salty tears as her body lurches, the salty liquid in her throat.

He groans loudly and bites his lip feeling her throat close around him as she swallows his seed.

He pulls away leaving Y/n to take a big breath, coughing slightly.

He should have stopped there, he should have told her that her payment had been taken, but he couldn’t.

Before he could even make his move, Y/n darts up and smashes her lips against his. She straddles his knee and grinds down, jerking her hips like a dog in heat. Matt helps her, grasping her hips tightly and moving her. He swallows her moans and whimpers, shoving his tongue in her mouth.

She pulls away panting, her eyes filled with lust and admiration.

“P-please Matt?”

“What do you want princess? My fingers? I always noticed you looking at them as I roll up. What about my mouth? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

“I-I don’t know- Do you think you deserve any of that?” He holds her hips in place, preventing her from grinding against his thigh.

“You think you deserve any of that considering you don’t have my money.”

She whines and tries to rutt against him, “Please! I’ll have it next time!” He finds her pleas pathetic but arousing at the same time.

He hums and flips them over, getting closer to her face.

“You’ll have it next time?” He begins to grind against her center.

She vigorously nods her head, more pleas and promises tumbling out of her mouth as he grinds against her.

"Good girl."

It takes everything in Matt to pull away and yank his pants and boxers back up. "M-Matt? What are you doing?"

"Your hard work paid off princess," He winks before walking out of the bedroom and trotting down the stairs, attempting to ignore the bulge in his pants

He hears a soft thud before fast footsteps follow him. "Where are you going?!" She follows him to the living room, watching as he packs up his bag.

"Leaving." He answers nonchalantly. Y/n stands there perplexed, the ache in between her legs sadly fading. "But you said you would- I never said anything princess. I never said I would fuck you, I said you need to work for it since you couldn't pay me with money." He finds it cute the way her face scrunched up, her brows furrowing as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water.

He slings the bag over his shoulder and stands in front of her, "Don't be sad princess, there's always next time-" She follows him to the door where he slips on his shoes.

"That's not fair!" She stomps her foot like a child, except she's not a child, she's a grown woman.

Matt stares at her with a stone face, taking a step closer. Y/n takes a small step back seeing his usual bright blue eyes darken, his posture becoming firm.

"What's not fair is the fact you didn't pay me princess, but I'm not going to hold it against you after all I finally got head from my favorite buyer," he smirks and turns back to the door. He puts one foot outside before turning back to her.

"Oh and Y/n?"

"What Matt?"

"Your wallet was on the couch this whole time."

"Wha-" Matt cuts her off by turning around and closing the door.

She rushes into the living room and looks at the couch.

Sure enough, the wallet was there the whole time.

TAGLIST 🍑

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[immortalbutterflycos]

Girldad Rosekiller vs. Girldad Wolfstar: Selling Girl Scout Cookies

(Yes I'm aware the Girl Scouts are an American thing. Indulge me.)

Rosekiller:

They aren't so much "selling" the cookies, as they are threatening people to buy them in support of their daughter "Or else".

Some Dude: "Nah, sorry man, but I gotta sell my own kid's cookies." Barty, pulling a knife out of fucking nowhere: "You'll buy the damn cookies or the only thing you'll be selling is your own severed hands."

Short, Sweet, and highly effective.

Wolfstar:

They have a whole plan. They used to just go to James first because this man will just buy every single one of those fucking cookies with no buyer's remorse, but Regulus has a firm ban on allowing any more than 3 boxes in the house at any given moment because they just had palets of the damned things sitting in their cupboard and now he gets physically ill at the very thought of anything other than thin mints.

So instead, Remus has a sale plan that he and Sirius created. It lays out the best locations, and with their encouragement, their daughter is very easily one of the best salespeople in the business.

Sounds normal right?

Wrong.

Because even a well-thought-out plan can be somewhat derailed based on Sirius's influence alone.

Let me set the scene:

[[On a sale day, Sirius and their daughter are sitting at the breakfast table before Remus wakes up. Sirius drinks some bougie iced espresso drink he made, and she has a plate of smiley-face pancakes out in front of her.]] Sirius: "So what do you say when someone starts to walk close to the table?" Their daughter, smiling up at him: "Hello, would you like to buy some cookies?" Sirius, nodding: "Good. Now, what do you say when they say no?" Their daughter: "Please sir, my mum just died of cancer." Sirius, grinning proudly: "That's my girl." Remus, having just walked into the kitchen, his hair a mess, and his jumper hiked up due to the hand scratching an itch on his stomach: "Please tell me that you did not teach our daughter to use Cancer as a sales tactic..." Sirius: "Of course I did! It's brilliant!" *She raises her hand from her seat* Remus, with a soft sigh: "Yes, Angel?" Her: "But I have two dads. I never knew my mom." Sirius: "Ah, but that's the trick, Darling." *He pokes her nose.* "Sales is all about the blatant exploitation of other people's emotions in order to make a profit." *looking to Remus* "Tell me I'm wrong." *Remus breathes out a resigned laugh and shakes his head incredulously* Remus: "It's the fact that I genuinely can't that upsets me the most..."

[garbinge]

Maybe One Day

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: You go back to Charming 10 years after… everything.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so don’t mind any odd formatting or editing mistakes!

Part 2

The moment you crossed into the town line you felt the heaviness overcome you. It was like there was this smog that only existed within the miles of town, one foot outside that sign that held the town founding year and population and it was like fresh air. But currently you were being suffocated as the odometer added mile after mile as you drove deeper into Charming.

It was like looking at an old photograph, not much had changed in most parts. There was still the main street strip, some of the stores definitely were new, but the street felt the same. You noticed the lack of loud, rumbling motors, lack of two wheeled engines parked along the curb. But early on that had been how it was before Scoops turned into the new head quarters for the Sons of Anarchy. It had been 10 years since you’d been back here, so it was likely the original club stomping grounds were back in commission.

You had told yourself you weren’t going to find out if that were true but you currently were parked just outside the automotive shop to see a new black warehouse like space where the old blue one used to be. The paint didn’t look too fresh where SOA was stencilled on but it looked new enough to you as you leaned against the black cutlass.

One thing and one thing only. It was the sentence you repeated in your head over and over as you drove hours back home. Back home, that felt like a heavy statement. Charming might have been where you grew up, but it wasn’t home. Despite it being where you’ve lived most in your life, it wasn’t home. One thing and one thing only. You knew that wasn’t true every time the thought ran in your head. It was inevitable that you’d come here, that you’d stop at the rocky mounted highway where JT’s memorial was. Where the helmet and sunglasses of the other Teller still lay abandoned.

You were just supposed to grab the last few things at the house before the closing date. The realtor handled everything else, the listing pictures, the calls with interested buyers, you had hired people to straighten up and you had put mostly everything else in storage 10 years ago, but there was one thing that was still in that house that no one else could get but you.

You didn’t put the house on the market until a month ago. It was an assumption but you figured the club was going to use the house for whatever shady business or reasons, it’s why you were happy you had a confirmed buyer that first week of putting the blue house on the market. All it took was one day and one tour by your realtor before the offer came in. But that sped up your timeline. It was likely that was why you pushed this out so far, dreading the thought of coming out here and going to the kitchen drawer and grabbing that pocket notebook that you hid in the false bottom of it.

Now that notebook was weighing heavy in your back pocket but it was fitting considering the weight of the air. You saw people in TM work shirts moving around, the weight of the word Teller staring down at you even from the street. That was all Charming ever did, weigh heavy on you.

You thought of the words you repeated over and over again. One thing and one thing only. What a lie. You scoffed slightly as if the conversation you were having in your head was actually happening outloud.

A few more thoughts popped into your head, each from someone this town had an effect on. Both statements weighing heavy on you because what else would thoughts about Charming be.

The one Hale spoke to Jax when you were younger. “It wont be long before SAMCRO is just an ugly memory in the history of charming.” Something felt unsettling there, unfortunately Hale died before he could see that come to light and as you stared at the new SAMCRO compound you had to think you probably would too.

Then Wendy’s voice came to your head, “The MC, this town, it kills all the shit you love.” She was right before shit even hit the fan. Although, shit was always hitting the fan so she was just on the pulse of Charming before any one else even bothered to look. You had lost everyone to Charming—to the club. Yes, you had Abel and Thomas still, but it was different, everyone you had in your family during your young life was gone. Tara, Jax, Gemma, Opie. The list went on.

But before you could continue the list you heard a familiar voice. The voice of the one person you hadn’t technically lost to the reaper but you most certainly lost to Charming and SAMCRO.

You hated how the voice made your heart happy. You hated how it managed to make every ounce of heaviness disappear and flee to the deep depths of the town and would only surface when you were left alone. But as you heard his voice again it made you wish you never would be alone again. It made you think for the briefest of seconds that maybe you could back out of the offer, move into the house that was now in your name and create a life here. Charming was home after all.

No. No. Charming was not home. The quick rational part of your brain quickly jolted you back to reality. That weight quickly rising from the ground and pulling at your ankles as a reminder that the town’s grip would suffocate you. But there it was again, the interruption that pulled the weight off your ankles and had you feeling as light as a feather.

“Love?”

The name he called you for years, whether it was in public or when you were tangled up in the sheets felt like a breath of fresh air in this smothering town. It wasn’t a nickname solely for you, you heard him say it to many women in your years of knowing him, and he probably had a fair share of women now he used the name on.

But that didn’t stop your knees from wanting to buckle. You turned and saw him, it was ironic that in your years of hanging in this club house, at TM, you had never seen Chibs on the street in front of the club HQ. Most guys parked inside, the street parking was reserved for excess cars who were there for service and for on lookers like yourself, although they usually tended to be wearing badges.

“Mother of Christ.” His accent was thick as he lifted his sunglasses up and off his face. His feet were moving towards you.

He didn’t think twice before engulfing you in a hug. You had thought about this moment a lot, going over all the different ways it could go. In one of the scenarios you thought he’d pause immediately front of you, stare at you like a stranger. There was something so relieving that he was hugging you like the past 10 years hadn’t existed, that no matter what happened he still cared about you, was happy to see you.

“Chibs!” A voice interrupted your embrace and you wanted to murder them. Funny how being in Charming made homicide an instant thought.

Chibs pulled away and that’s when the Scottish cologne hit you, a smile filling your face as he looked back to the person in the TM lot.

“Church in 10!”

You looked at the patch on his kutte immediately at those words and saw the president patch. It sent bile to your throat, it was the patch Jax wore for years. Not figuratively, but literally. It was the exact patch he wore, some of the stains on it were likely from his time wearing it. You didn’t stay here long enough to see it sit on Chibbs’ kutte but seeing it now was transporting you back 10 years.

“Why don’t y’come int’the clubhouse darlin’, have a drink, we can talk.” He looked older, the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. You could tell the club life was affecting him, his hair was graying way more and it made him even more attractive.

“I shouldn’t.” You shook your head and doubled down, “I can’t.”

The second two worded statement you spoke is what made Chibs understand, a nod escaping from his head.

“It’s good t’see ye’.” He was trying to keep it light, he knew how hard this was.

“I’m selling the house.” You said it so business like, it was a way to give him the heads up to let the club know. You saw some traces of them being there, not frequently but enough. Cigarette buds in the ashtrays around the furniture that was left, empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. You knew Chibs made sure whoever came by knew to clean up after.

Chibs just nodded and looked down. “Y’happy?”

How were you supposed to be happy after Charming took every last thing that you loved. You thought for a minute and the faces of your nephews flashed in your mind and you smiled.

“The boys are teenagers. I don’t know if you can be happy with teenagers.” You joked.

Chibs grinned at the mention of Thomas and Abel.

You wanted to ask him if he was happy but you were afraid of the answer. You saw what the club presidency did to the person in the role before him. You saw what it had done to the other Teller in the same position just a decade before. It made you think about JT and his legacy for a moment. You always wondered if JT was just exemplified as this great person because he wasnt alive to be rememebered for his flaws. But then you remembered Gemma and Clay and how they only remembered JT for his flaws. Your mind instantly went to Jax who had killed both Clay and Gemma, and what his legacy was. If he’d be exemplified just because he was gone and his flaws would be forgotten. Your eyes moved to the newer clubhouse and saw the small memorial that was on the roof. There was white air forces perched on the edge where Jax would very often sit and reflect. That solidified it for you, he’d be seen as Jax Teller, son of JT, president of SOA, an honor to have known and loved him for the guys who were in the club when he reigned as VP and president. But then your eyes fell back on Chibs, the hope that since he knew the flaws that essentially led to the death of your brother, he’d lead differently while still respecting his legacy in the eyes of the club.

“You rebuilt.” You pointed to the building trying to erase that long heavy thought from your mind.

“Ice cream and hookers were too distracting for the guys.” He teased in reference to Scoops and Red Woody. “You sure you don’t want to come in, love? Church won’t take long, I’ll give y’my dorm while y’wait.”

It was a convincing offer. You wanted to see what Chibs’ dorm looked like, what life was like for him. But deep down you knew you already knew what it looked like because you lived it. You lived it and you hated it. You loved him but hated the life.

“No just came to get this.” You pulled the pocket notebook out and flapped it in the air.

Chibs knew exactly what that was and nodded in understanding.

“Chibs!” The same voice called out again.

“He’ll be in in a second!” You called out, eyes still glued on the Scot in front of you.

The prospect shut up quickly and moved back inside. You wondered how he’d describe you to the members inside, there was only a handful that could potentially recognize you from description, and an even smaller handful that would come out to see for themselves.

“I wanted to give it to Abel. I think he deserves to know Jax the way Jax wanted him to.” You explained the notebook that Chibbs knew all about between the time when Jax was writing it and when you had told him where you’d put it.

“It was really good ta see y’love.”

Despite everything shitty about being back, it was true for you too. It was great seeing him. You wished you could ask him to leave, come stay with you on your humble farm, sell fresh eggs with you at the farmers market and ride dirt bikes with the boys. But it was the same reason he never asked you to stay here. Sure he might’ve asked you to come in for a drink but the words “stay in Charming” would never come from his mouth. He knew it was too painful.

He pulled you in for another hug and you didn’t want to let go. The drink wasn’t sounding half bad, you wanted to catch up, hear about what he’s up to, how he’s been, but the answers you’d want to hear would never come and the one’s you dreaded to hear would be the only one’s that filled your ears.

As you pulled out of the embrace you squeezed his arm in a way to tell him the same about seeing him without actually saying it and then you quickly turned back to your car. Chibs was walking away now, his hand reaching up to wipe the couple stray tears he’d never admit to shedding and dropping his sunglasses back down.

You called out one last time to him, an impulsive decision and impulsive thought meeting together at the tip of your tongue.

“If Abel comes here, push him out. Don’t welcome him in.”

Chibs was frozen at the request and then he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll send ‘em right back to th’farm so his auntie can talk some sense into ‘em.” It was a humorous statement but it gave you relief because Chibs wouldn’t lie to you.

“You can tell him about Jax. The Jax you knew. The Jax we wanted him to be.”

It was just like you to have the most mundane small talk conversation at close range where whispers could be exchanged and this important one where voices carried.

“I won’t.” At first you thought he misheard you and you were going to correct him when he spoke up. “If he’s anything like his ol’ man, he’ll want to become the man we wanted him to be, and we’ve already seen how that plays out.”

You thought it was impossible to feel seen in Charming. To feel heard. You thought it was impossible for someone in the club to speak this way about it. About past members. It was probably one of the many things about Chibs that made you love him, his honesty, his care for the Teller family. It gave you a little hope.

“There’s always room for you at the farm.” You said as Chibs was walking backwards. Getting closer to the club but still staring in your direction. You saw the curly haired man appear from the clubhouse building, about to call Chibs’ name when he spotted you. You knew he’d hear the prospect talk and be outside to see for himself, using Chibs as the excuse.

Your hand raised and waved at Tig like you had just seen him yesterday. He immediately raised his hand waved and you heard his laugh crystal clear from where you were and stared back at Chibs for a response to your invitation.

“Maybe one day, love. Maybe one day.”

Part 2

[1-800-munson]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐲'𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐦 || E.M

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

Eddie quietly hummed a beat to himself as he sat in the living room, his foot tapping along as well.

After a few moments he groans in frustration, throwing himself back onto the couch.

"Is everything ok in there?" You called out from the kitchen.

A moment of silence went by before footsteps of Eddie's boot came closer towards your location. "I have the perfect beat but I just can't find the lyrics to fit!" He explained, leaning on the counter, watching you move around the kitchen.

"I'm sure it'll hit you at a random point when you're not so stressed!" You reassured, pressing your hand on his chest, leaning into kiss eddie but a noise from the baby monitor.

You both sighed, you chuckled and tapped his chest.

"Go get our baby will you?" You asked, moving back to the stove to start prepping lunch.

"She always knows when her parents are about to have a moment.." Eddie chuckled before walking back to your guys room.

"There's the monster!" Eddie joked as he spotted your baby laying in the middle of the bed, she looked as if she had just popped out of the blanket, her baby hairs sticking up in different directions, just a diaper on, skin imprints on her tummy from laying on the blanket for the first hour of her nap.

"The pillow getcha?" Stacy, your daughter looked around the room before lifting her hands up towards eddie.

"It beats me up too, even gets your mama!" Eddie tickles her belly to get a laugh out.

"Does not!" You yelled from the kitchen. Eddie turned towards the baby monitor.

"She listens in, you believe that?" He jokes with the baby.

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

You peaked out the window blinds you and Eddie had in your bedroom, you watched as he mowed the grass in front of your house to fit the little pool the wheeler’s had bought for Stacy to use during the summer heat. 

You grasped the towel on your chest, bathtime with a water baby was something else.

You glanced over towards your daughter where she sat on a bean bag chair, watching cartoons. She had her fist in her mouth, gnawing peacefully.

After getting a bottle of water for your boyfriend, you walked out of the small trailer and walked over to Eddie, who was filling the pool with the hose.

“Need water?” You asked as you walked closer. “I need something that’s not water.” He said, eyeing you up and down.

“Calm down, it’s mostly from the baby deciding to splash around today in the tub.” You both smiled.

“Either way, you’re a hot ass mom!” He kissed the hand that was handing over the water. “Oh yes, get back to doing the pool for your daughter!” You laughed and playfully shoved him away.

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

Summer’s in Indiana weren’t a fun game when you didn’t have consistent  AC going or a large pool. 

You watched from a towel as your daughter splashed around in the baby pool.

“You enjoying the water S?” You giggled as she nodded, making her sunhat flop around.

Eddie sighed as he walked out from the trailer and into the heat, he walked past your yard and near the street, you assumed a buyer would be stopping by. 

A little bit went by and you were right, a car filled with high school seniors pulled up.

You got up from the towel and walked over to Stacy, she had started to show signs of being in need of a nap, you bent over and picked her up, before grabbing the towel and dried your baby off before going inside to settle her down.

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

While waiting for the buyer to grab the money from the glovebox of the car, he couldn’t help but listen to the boys in the back talking.

“It might be fucked up but i think im in love y/n, my god!”

“I knew y/n was always gonna be a milf!” 

“Stacy’s mom got it going on, holy shit!”

Eddie’s head popped up, as the buyer handed him the money. Eddie handed the baggie of pills before walking away, the last comment about his comment stuck in his head.

“Stacy’s mom..?” He whispered, he sat down at the small dining table and picked up the paper he had laying around and scrambled to find a pen as the lyrics started to flow out.

You watched from the kitchen as Eddie scrambled around the living room for his guitar before playing a beat and muttering things to himself as he played.

After a few hours, he had jumped up from the table and walked over towards you, on the couch.

He leaned down and kissed you. “I love you.” You stared at him for a second. “What did you do?” You questioned, suspiciously.

“Nothing bad, I just wrote a song about you.” You raised an eyebrow, his answer peeked your interest. 

“And what is this song about exactly?” You twirled one of his stray curls between your fingers. “Let me get my guitar and you’ll be my first listener.” You nodded and watched as he ran once again for his guitar.

“Stacy’s mom has got it going on, she’s all I want and I've waited for so long!” He sang to the beat.

“Stacy can’t you see, you’re just not the girl for me. I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's mom.” He paused and watched your face for a reaction. 

You smiled and clapped for him. “I love it! You’re basically saying I'm a hot mom!” You squealed, Eddie chuckled and kissed your shoulder and you wrapped your arms to give him a hug.

“She’s so gonna hate you for this song when she’s older ya’ know?” You said, still hugging. 

“Oh I bet, especially since everyone knows who Stacy's mom is..” You both laughed. 

“We’re so mean.” Eddie chuckled and kissed you. 

“I know, now kiss me Stacy's mom!” 

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

[laurentidal]

House Defending

Jenn looked out the window and saw the pretty realtor leading someone new up to the house next door. Sara had been showing the house for five months, but Jenn hadn't let any offers come in just yet. She was still looking for that little something in a neighbor. She remained unsatisfied.

She walked over to the house and let herself in, just as she always did. She could here Sara talking from somewhere deeper into the building. Showing the man the kitchen or the back bedroom. Then the pair walked around the corner and found Jenn sitting on the couch waiting for them.

"And who do we have today, Sara?" Jenn purred at the realtor.

"This is Max, Jenn. Max, this is Jenn. She lives next door and like to come meet the prospective buyers."

Max, for his part, had a lot of trouble stopping his eyes from locking directly onto Jenn's deep and prominent cleavage. He stuttered a hello and Jenn chuckled in a disarming way.

"He's very cute," she said winking at Sara. "I'm glad you brought him around. Did you already get the full tour, sweetie?"

Max was blushing deeply now.

"Not yet," Sara said. "I still have to show him the bedroom."

Jenn's lips curled into a smile. "I can take him. I spent enough time up there when Dale lived here. Follow me, Maxy." She stood abruptly, making sure her tits wobbled strongly in her low cut top. And when she turned, Max got a look at her ass. It was round and full and he found he had even more trouble keeping his eyes off it then her chest. At least she couldn't see him staring with her back turned.

"I knew the old owner well," Jenn was saying. "He used to treat me very kindly. I've been trying to meet the possible owners so that I know the person who moves in will be able to fill Dale's shoes."

Her ass swayed as she walked and talked. Down the hall. Up the stairs. Max stared and listened.

"We'd argue about things. You wouldn't believe how we used to go back and forth." She stressed those words, timing them with the sway of her hips. "Back and forth. And then he'd realize he couldn't win against me. It was impossible to resist. So he quit trying. He stopped fighting and gave into me. He surrendered. He learned that it was easier to just listen and obey. Don't you think, Max?"

"Huh?" Max asked, distracted.

"Poor boy. You must be so tired of fighting your urges," she said as they entered the bedroom. "You've been trying so hard not to stare and offend. But I bet you've been staring the whole way here, weren't you. Of course you were. Look at the bulge in your pants. You don't get that from looking at the drywall."

She pulled her shirt down, letting her tits spill out into clear view.

"Sleepy Max wants to look at these."

He nodded, unblinking. His mouth fell open and a small line of drool began to drip off his chin.

"So cute. Sara, dear!" Jenn called. "I believe we're ready for you."

Sarah walked in the room, completely naked.

"Get me ready for him, doll."

"Yes, Mistress," the realtor replied happily. She stripped Jenn's clothes off , then Max's. She put Max on his knees at the foot of the bed.

"Now Max, you're going to get something of an audition. Satisfy me, and I will allow you to put an offer in on this house. I need to know that Dale's replacement will be able to handle me. But from the looks of that monster, we may finally have a winner. Sara, as always."

"Yes, Mistress," she said again before retreating to the chair where she'd watch them fuck. Part of Sara wanted the commission. But a deeper part would miss these weekly sessions. Perhaps one of Jenn's other neighbors was looking to sell.

[official-magnus-institute]

hey Jon can we have that book recommendation I’m curious

STATEMENT OF DONNA RHETTE, REGARDING 'THIS FUCKING BOOK'- VERBATIM FROM TEXT. STATEMENT TAKEN FROM REVIEW LEFT ON www.lionstreetbooks.com/i-spy-housewarming/K-6482749278.html

(tw: stalking, scopophobia, loss of child, arson)

STATEMENT BEGINS.

@_Donnarhette

★☆☆☆☆

do not purchase this book do not buy anything off this website theyre stealing your information. this website is unreliable and customer service does not respond they do not pick up their phones.

i bought this book for my 5 year old daughter. she kept waking me up in the middle of the night for weeks beforehand. it was normal, kids do that, kids are scared of monsters. but i would always read her i spy. we have every other edition, down to the miniature versions and the seasonal ones. eventually, she learned where everything was, though, and the books got boring, so i looked up 'i spy books' for the 80th time this month. it brought me here, and i purchased the book for shipping.

the very next day it was brought here, and i was astonished at first, but once i saw the condition of how it was packed, i figured why it came so fast. it was a wreck, the corners all beat, a handful of packing peanuts and some thin paper tossed cattywompus inside. the shippers mustve played hacky-sack with it before tossing it up to the house

even so, my girl was excited. she had completely forgotten about the supposed monsters, she just wanted the book. it's a unique edition for sure, instead of looking for small items on a small scale, it just looks like pictures of parks or buildings, along with riddles like 'i spy a tricycle, i spy ten cards, i spy a crack in concrete that's hard'. it was a change of pace for me, even- a challenge. but my daughter was doing phenomenally.

the photographer must be local to my area, because i recognized the photos soon. hell, i think i saw the back of my head in the bank one. but it got strange when it came to a picture of a street.

my street of my home.

now im thinking, 'maybe it's personalized, it's google maps, and they look up the address for the buyer before they send it out?' but that was... impossible. after i ordered the book it came the very next day, there was no way theyd be able to just cram this page in last second. not only that, but there was the riddle.

i spy a sewer grate, a baseball, a torch,

i spy a busted-up box on the porch.

i shut the book on that page and told my daughter to go to bed. there was fuss, but something was wrong. i tuck her in and she complains again about monsters in the window. all through the night, theres monsters in the window, and i snap at her when she wakes me up the 3rd time.

at that point she was crying, and i was.. yelling. i dont feel good about it, god, especially not now, but i was tired and scared. thats no excuse. so was she.

after telling her it would be ok, she slept in my bed with me. i held her tight the whole night through, and i would do my research in the morning, i assured myself.

but i didnt het a chance. by sunrise she was gone. not in her bed, in her pillow fort, not in the kitchen, the den, nowhere. i phone the police, and i end up running down the street screaming her name.

as i get back home, though, i felt compelled to that damn book. god, why did i go back to that damn book??

it was a picture of us through the window.

'i spy ten earrings, 2 rings, and a comb

i spy a mom and daughter at home.'

it was like my tears froze from shock. i steeled myself and flipped to the next page.

'i spy a woman, big tears and brown curls

i spy a book, but i see no girl.'

as i said, the police are investigating this store. burn in hell you freak. ill see you there.

Well. It took some digging, but there's your recommendation. We were able to get I Spy: Housewarming from the crime scene - or, more so, the wreckange. Donna was griefstruck, this adding onto the loss of her husband shortly before this, leading to a burst of arson. The book was recovered just fine, seemingly one of the Leitners that can withstand some flames.

J. Sims, The Archivist

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This sweet pink cottage is already under contract and I can't say that I blame the buyer. Built in 1990 in Wellesley Island, NY the 5bd, 2ba home sold for $425K.

Isn't this cozy?

The kitchen is so cute. It looks like an old country kitchen, but it was built in 1990. They did a wonderful job and I love the mint green.

This adorable bedroom is on the ground floor off the kitchen.

The stairs to the other bedrooms on the 2nd level are in the kitchen.

The stairs come up to a sitting area with bookshelves and a bed tucked into the corner with privacy curtains.

And, the room also has two bunkhouse style beds with curtains.

Doors open to a terrace in this bedroom.

Lovely guest room with room for 2 beds.

One of the 2 baths. Very cute.

The 5th bedroom is a lovely single bedroom.

Outside there's a long porch.

Around the corner there's a large screened in porch.

And at the far end of the house there's a built-in gazebo.

This adorable home has a little storage shed on the back. it's on a 435.60 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/193-Island-Ave-Wellesley-Island-NY-13640/2056456877_zpid/?

[slippinmickeys]

Okay if you feel like this is interesting for a Proof of Life fic...

just little windows into their first pregnancy, lounging and being happy, traveling for work maybe, and then meeting the baby for the first time or something.

1. He is staring at her face, but he doesn’t care. He is clocking every shift of her eyes, every microexpression; dying, dying to know if he’s done well, if he’s done the right thing. 

She stopped next to the real estate SOLD sign and is studying the outside of the house. It is modest, especially for this neighborhood, but it has nice lines, and verdant hydrangea bushes out front weighed down with so many pink and blue blossoms that you can hardly see any green.

“It’s got great curb appeal,” she says, and Mulder lets out an enormous sigh of relief. 

“Let me show you the inside,” he says, digging deep into his pocket for the set of keys the realtor had handed him only that morning. 

It takes two tries to get the door open, and Scully stands there wearing a patient smile, her hands resting on the soft swell of her stomach. 

“There we go,” he says, and he stops halfway over the threshold. “Do you want me to carry you in?” he asks, turning back toward her. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

“Let’s save your back for the boxes,” she says. “I’m afraid you’re on your own for all the heavy lifting.”

“Roger that,” he says, and reaches out instead to grab her hand, pulling her into the small foyer. 

“A front closet,” she immediately observes. “That’s good. And room for a bench and shoes.”

With every nice thing she says, pounds upon pounds of weight lift off his shoulders. 

She was in Haiti far longer than either of them anticipated, and he offered to fly back to the States to start looking for a house for them to settle into once she was done. She’d given him a long list of requirements, and he’d kissed a lot of frogs before finding this house–a mid-century modern ranch in Alexandria with three bedrooms, two baths, and a check mark next to everything she’d requested. When he’d looked at it the first time, he’d felt it was right, and his realtor told him that if he wanted to put an offer down, he shouldn’t wait. 

“There are fifteen offers on it already–I mean, at this price, in this neighborhood?” She’d said. “But it’s an older couple that’s downsizing and they want it to go to a young family. I may have mentioned your wife’s condition and there’s a possibility I showed their realtor your picture from the Pulitzer ceremony.” She had glanced at Mulder with a look that screamed I hope I did the right thing. “They’re waiting on an offer from you. If they don’t get one today, they have another buyer picked out.”

And so after three phone calls to Scully’s cell phone that all went unanswered or were met by a recorded voice telling him the number he is trying to reach is unavailable, he put in an offer, which was accepted twenty minutes later and by the time Scully called him back, they were homeowners and she hadn’t so much as seen a picture of the house. Mulder had been there for the inspections, and escrow closed while she was still on Hispaniola. 

He likes the house. He hopes she loves it. 

“The kitchen is through here?” she asks. He nods and follows her in. 

“Wow, the appliances look new,” she says, and he simply smiles at her. 

They are new. Brand new. He’d bought them himself and had them installed before she got back to the States. The ones that came with the house were archaic–avocado green monstrosities with abysmal energy ratings. But the kitchen layout was great, and the countertops and cabinetry were acceptable and could be improved or replaced in the future. 

She runs her hands along the mantle in the living room, peaks out the window to look at the spacious backyard. She wanders into the master bedroom, complimenting the closet space, and when she gets to the back bedroom, she stops in the doorway. 

“The nursery,” he says quietly, putting a gentle hand on her lower back. 

The room is painted a soft yellow, and in the corner stands an enormous stuffed giraffe with a large bow around its neck. 

“From James, and the crew at the We clinic,” he says. “They say his name is Twiga.”

She turns to him with tears in her eyes. “Perfect,” she says. “It’s all perfect.” 

2.  “I can’t believe the only piece of furniture you own is a coffee table,” Scully says, putting her feet up on said object. 

Mulder is in the kitchen fiddling with the various bags of take out, assembling plates for them both. 

“You’re lucky I had it,” he calls to her over his shoulder. “Seeing as how Ethan got everything in the divorce.”

“Don’t even joke about that man,” Scully says, reaching down to adjust her wedding and engagement bands, making sure the small Indian diamond Mulder got her is perfectly centered. “When I moved in with him, he had nicer furniture, so I got rid of all mine. You know this. But even my old coffee table was better than this one. It’s hideous.”

Hideous might not be the right word, but it is certainly not to either of their tastes. She doesn’t know furniture styles all that well, but it looks practically colonial, with wooden legs that round into clawed feet, and nearly all of it is covered in intricate carving. It’s like a miniature version of the Resolute Desk. With feet. 

He appears from the doorway that leads from their kitchen to the living room carrying two plates laden with at least five different kinds of Chinese takeout. 

“That one has history. It has provenance. There’s a reason I kept it.”

He kept nothing else. He’d had a small storage unit in Boston with the coffee table and twelve boxes of photography equipment.

He sets his food down on the aforementioned artifact and hands her the plate he made up for her, along with utensils, a cheap paper napkin, paper-wrapped chopsticks and a fortune cookie. She dumps the chopsticks and fortune cookie on the table next to his and balances the plate on the enormous rounded drum of her stomach. 

“You don’t even need a table, Scully. You’ve got one built-in.”

She has to admit it is handy. It is next to impossible to pull up to a dining table (not that they had one) with the enormous mass of her stomach, so couch eating, using her stomach as a platform makes for a comfortable, tidy solution. Unless the baby kicks, then all bets are off. 

She gives him a look and continues to gaze at him. “If there’s provenance, I want to hear it.”

“My dad had it in college,” he says, taking an enormous bite of egg roll that he has to fully chew before he can go on.

“So far I’m unimpressed,” Scully says, turning to look at the table and then her plate. The plate is absolutely laden. She doesn’t know where to start. 

Mulder wipes his mouth and continues. “Dartmouth. One of his roommates was this super rich guy from Hyannis Port. Grew up next to the Kennedys. Rose was particularly fond of him. When he moved off campus in college, she found out and gave him a shitton of furniture from one of the Compound rooms she was redecorating to outfit the new digs. When Dad’s roommate graduated, he took everything but this.”

“I can’t blame him for leaving it,” Scully says, winding a bite of lo mein onto a fork. “It’s awful.”

“It’s interesting,” Mulder corrects her. “Probably three generations of Kennedys have put their scotch down on that table. It’s historic Americana.”

“I bet the Kennedys used coasters,” she says. “This piece of historic Americana,” she gestures to the table. “Looks like it was made from the captain’s berth of a whaling ship and is sporting what looks like at least five different water rings from Dartmouth Pabst.”

“At least one of those rings is mine and it was iced tea,” he says, standing up. “Speaking of…you want one?”

“Sure.” 

“Captain’s berth or not, this is what we’ve got for now,” he says, coming back into the room and handing her a cold Snapple. “Once we add a few more water rings and the dazzling crayon stylings of Scully Jr., we’ll donate it to the Smithsonian.”

“All I took from what you just said was that we can eventually get rid of it.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “But please keep in mind that the only furniture we currently have is a mattress still in plastic, the couch we’re sitting on which is on loan from your brother until his next posting and the Dartmouth Pabst Americana coffee table.”

“Hey, that’s a lot for two people who mostly lived in tents the last half decade.”

“And how,” he answers. 

Scully takes one more bite of food and slides the plate onto the only table they own. 

“You okay?” Mulder asks, instantly tender. “You barely ate.”

“If I eat more than five bites I’ll be up all night with heartburn,” she explains. 

Mulder obliviously wolfs down the last three bites of his own food and sets his plate down. 

“Here,” he says. “Swing your legs up here and I’ll rub your feet.”

Scully doesn’t hesitate and Mulder is digging into her aching arches before her head even hits the arm of the couch. 

She lays there blissed out for a moment. “Want to split a fortune cookie?” she asks after a moment, reaching for the one she set on the table. 

They break it in half like a wishbone and Scully gets the half with the fortune in it. She pulls out the little piece of paper and takes a crunchy bite of the cookie. Heartburn be damned, she can’t resist.

Mulder raises his eyebrows. “So?” he says. “What’s our fortune?” 

“You will soon find yourself in a Pottery Barn,” she reads. 

3. It’s the first time he’s been away from her overnight since she’s been back in the States. He hates it. She hates it. They both hate it. But they have a month to go before the baby is due, and he’s still looking for a full-time job. When he got a call asking if he wanted to be a part of a week-long photography symposium in California for a decent amount of cash, it was an opportunity he couldn’t turn down.  

He calls her as soon as the plane’s wheels touch down at National. He can’t wait to hear her voice. 

“Hey,” he says when she answers. “I just landed.”

“How was the flight?” she asks. Her voice is a little breathy, like maybe she was walking up a set of stairs. 

“Not bad, all things considered. A little weather over the Rockies. Are you out and about?”

He really hopes she isn’t. All he wants to do is go home, plant a massive kiss on her lips and then fall into bed with her in his arms and sleep until next Tuesday. 

“No, I’m home,” she says. 

“Oh,” he says. “Good.” 

“You’re taking the Metro home, right?” she asks. “You left your car at the Kiss & Ride?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I didn’t want you to have to come and get me.”

“Okay,” she says. There’s an odd quality to her voice that he can’t place, but forgets about it when she says “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he says, his own voice going soft. 

The woman in the seat next to him looks at him and smirks, but he doesn’t care. 

“Listen, we’re about to pull into the gate. I’ll see you soon. Love you, Scully.”

“You too,” she says on a breath and then disconnects the line. 

The next hour is a pain in the ass. His luggage takes forever to come in and his hard case of camera equipment is dented on one side, so he has to go through each piece of equipment one at a time to check for damage. Luckily everything checks out. Outside, it’s a rush hour mob scene and the rain makes the train cars humid and smelling of funk and he’s half soaked by the time he makes it to his car. It’s not a long drive from the lot, and once he’s on Fort Hunt Road the traffic has finally thinned, but he has to stop for gas. By the time he pulls into their driveway, it’s dark, and he’s exhausted. He half hopes Scully’s asleep so he can just slide into bed too and lose himself to oblivion. 

He enters and kicks off his shoes, leaving his luggage by the door. The house is quiet and the lights are dim. He tries the master bedroom first, but she isn’t there. 

“Scully?” he calls out.

There’s a noise from the living room. When he enters, his stomach falls into his socks. 

Scully is half on the couch and half off, her arms resting against the cushions as if they're holding her up. It looks like she has maybe fallen. He cannot see her face.

“Scully!” He skids to her side on a bright burst of adrenaline and she turns to look at him weakly. 

“What happened? Are you okay? What’s-” The words all tumble out of his mouth one after the other and she reaches over and squeezes his arm, shutting him up instantly. 

“I’m fine,” she breathes. “It’s just��” She clenches her teeth, unable to finish, and Mulder instantly reads the situation. She’s in labor. A whole damned month early. 

“How far apart?” he asks her, breathless. 

The contraction seems to have passed and she gives him a weak smile. “Not very.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You got teleporting abilities I don’t know about?” she asks, and he helps her move up and onto the couch. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You should have called your mom, you should-”

Another rough grab of her hand to his arm. “I’m not doing this—any of this—without you.”

4. They’re not left alone, the three of them, until they’ve been moved out of the spacious and plush Labor and Delivery ward and into the small, confining cell of Recovery. When at last the on-call nurse leaves the room with a smile and instructions on how to use the call button, the room descends into peace. A quiet, hovering peace. 

The baby is asleep, nestled into the crook of Scully’s arm, warm and oddly heavy.

Mulder still has a dazed and exhausted look on his face and is wearing the same clothes he traveled in yesterday, rumpled and a little bit worse for wear. He also hasn’t stopped smiling. A single, gentle click punctuates the silence and then he sets his camera down on the bedside table.

He is as quiet as the room itself and leans over the bed, staring at the baby. He only moves his gaze once, to flit his eyes to Scully’s, running a soft hand through her hair. 

“You did it,” he whispers. 

“I did,” Scully says happily, tiredly, following his gaze to look down at the small miracle of their child. 

The baby has a button nose, orange peach fuzz, and eyes that so look like Mulder’s that Scully can hardly look away herself. 

“Can I hold her?” he asks tenderly. “I don’t want to wake her, but…” 

He’d cut the cord, he’d gotten to shout “It’s a girl!!” He’d held her while the nurses helped Scully into the wheelchair to move floors. But he hasn’t yet had the chance to commune with the life he helped create, and Scully knows that’s what he wants and she knows it’s something he needs. 

“Of course,” she says, immediately moving the tiny child up and around so that Mulder can take her, tubes trailing down from the IV line taped to the back of her hand. 

His hands are gentle and tender as he lifts her, and big, so big that the baby practically looks like an egg in a baseball mitt.

“Hi,” he says to her once she’s settled in his arms. He wears a big smile, brushing eyes with Scully before staring back down at his daughter. “Hello Emily,” he says, like he’s trying on the name. The baby snuffles, settles. 

Beyond the walls of the hospital, airplanes cross and fly overhead. Beyond the walls of the hospital, are arguments, traffic accidents, war. People are kidnapped. People are killed. Beyond the walls of the hospital is everything else. 

Mulder settles into the chair in the corner of the room, his daughter laying snuggly in his lap, and he doesn’t move for a very, very long time.

[mysteriesmuse]

Bangs + Hair clips = visible foreheads

Thinking abt being Shoto’s s/o who keeps up a ton of hair clips around the house. Constantly using them on their own bangs and such. Constantly using them on Shoto when he’s got his bangs in his face. Flashforward to moving in together and all of a sudden Shoto just has constant access to this hair clippy collection. And he just takes them and does his own hair when he gets up to leave for work. Him showing up at the agency with cutesy tortoise shell berets and sparkly resin alligator clips. Makes him and his poker face only mildly less intimidating to employees and the press. Makes citizens and the press go crazy bc come on guys it’s hero Shoto with cute little hair clips and now his beautiful forehead is exposed and those heterochromatic eyes are no longer hidden behind the bangs. And eventually you start complaining about how you hair clip numbers are dwindling down in that drawer bc he also is accidentally using and losing them on patrol. IMMEDIATELY there’s a package at the door of you workplace with the hair accessories in bulk. The poor delivery boy out of breath handing you a note that says: sorry love, I lost your hair clips. I fixed the problem, permanently. XOXO - Shoto

only to open it up to find a gazillion of your favorites and you’re looking at this poor boy who’s keeled over by the water jug flipping the card in your hands, “is there a reason my fiancé couldn’t wait until he was done with patrol to send these over? Or at least send the order to our house?” seriously the poor errand boys at Shoto’s agency are always running across town and dropping things off for you. You’d never understand it. The young man huffs, sighing after guzzling a bottle of water, “said you’d ask,” he heaves, “it was on company deductibles.” You hum confused and gesture to the chair in the lobby, to which the guy practically crawls to. When Shoto gets home that evening he’s walking into the front door with that darling little quip of a smile, which usually means he’s incredibly pleased with whatever mischief he’s just invoked. And you’re sure he is. “I heard you received your package, love. I’m sorry for taking so long to rectify the situation, but it won’t be a problem anymore. And- I think you’ll like the outcome.” You’re standing in the kitchen just staring at your fiancé because y’all’s bedroom has about 10 more even bigger boxes of those hair clips. You start breaking into laughter as Shoto comes over and holds you, rubbing his hands down your sides, “Sho- oh my gosh- I can’t believe you went through all the effort of phoning them and becoming an official sponsor just to replace the ones you’d lost on patrol!” You’re wiping tears away from the corner of your eyes, that was such a flabbergasting surprise when you walked home to see a dozen more boxes by the front door. Which immediately instigated a Instagram search to find that yes, indeed, Shoto had officially announced that he was going to sponsor y’all’s favorite brand. Shoto grins a dazzling smile as he huffs out silent amusement, “Darling, they’ve already got our names on the frequent buyer list. And- my fans have been posting like crazy about it. The last step was to simply ask.” You laugh again, followed by a punctual snort from Shoto. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then another as you cup his cheeks onto his forehead. “Well, I suppose this is a practical one. Unlike the last one which was born out of spite.” Shoto pouts, “You and I both know that the company didn’t have permission to go use that clip.” You reach a hand to playfully brush dust off his shoulder, “I guess the five weenies ad had it coming - although it is a bit awkward signing the slip for those delivery boys. But seriously, Babe, can we at least adjust the package size? It’s been nearly 6 months now.” Shoto raises one perfectly shaped white eyebrow at you, “It wasn’t impractical last night, now was it?”

[millerflintstone]

So I have a fair amount of packing of my crap left along with some general house packing (the laundry area, linens, the rest of the kitchen) and odds and ends. Work has of course been busy so I haven't been able to do much during the day. Unfriendly is en route to NM, so I'm on my own for this piece. My plan is to take advantage of my night owl nature and do a lot of it Friday night into Saturday morning. I don't have to worry about waking up Unfriendly and can just let the hyper focus kick in.

Earlier this afternoon, I got a request from the buyers through our realtor asking if they could come by at 11:00 a.m. on Saturday to do some measurements. They were also wondering if we still had leftover floor and backsplash tile from when we did the kitchen. I'm guessing they're probably doing some type of color scheme matching for draperies or who knows what. But, wow I did get irrationally put out. My plan is to wake up whenever my body tells me to when I collapse on Friday.

Unfriendly sent me a voice note to calm me down. I don't know if I have pathological demand avoidance based on how it's described, but I really don't like getting thrown for a loop when I have a plan in place. I gave my realtor some alternative time blocks for the weekend and explained what was going on and that I'd be here while they measure. I also asked if he could find out what areas they were looking to measure so I could make sure they were reasonably accessible. No word back yet.

I also can't quite get to the tile because of the mountain of boxes in the way in the garage at the moment.

I wasn't quite sure how common this type of a request is since I'm certainly not well-versed in selling a house. I asked our realtor, and he said that it's not unusual but also that I'm not obligated to comply with the request.

Houzz and reddit forums had a variety of situations from the buyers pulling some last minute shenanigans at closing because of things they found while "measuring". But I think in these cases the house inspection had been waived by the buyers. Some people just used it as an excuse to see the house again and show it off to family members. Other people said that they had made similar requests when they were buying a house but that they legitimately needed to make measurements for furniture or replacing flooring. A lot of these people had pretty long closing periods and wanted to order stuff ahead of time, so who knows.

I'm peopling deficient!

[rokhal]

Resident Evil 7 Biohazard whatever is an amazing portrait of the impact of methamphetamine in the rural US. Everything from the textures to the design of the environment to the story itself.

I guess, as an American, I should be used to living in a media panopticon where everyone knows how we talk and what our houses look like, but the Baker estate is not like a movie set or an influencer's home. There's real clutter, the kind that accumulates when you haven't moved cross-country in over ten years and your kids have grown up: kennels for cats who've lived and died, tool boxes, riding mowers, plastic bags full of plastic bags, pool toys. The age of the house shows, not just in the dated wallpaper and cupboards, but in the glimpses we get through the crumbling walls of construction techniques that have been obsolete for eighty years. The pegboard as wallboard. The cludged-together, homeowner-grade repairs of railings and staircases. The immersion is total. This could be any rural home I've ever visited whose owners lost the battle against entropy.

Houses on cheap land can get big. Real big. The Bakers appear to have inherited a plantation house, but there's a lot more on the property. It's perfectly normal to build a mother-in-law apartment and park a trailer in your backyard when you've got the land. Code inspector? What code inspector? You don't need no stinkin' permits. You're not gonna sell, and if you do, the buyer can figure out what they want to do with your wobbly deck.

You own the house and you've got no neighbors to complain about their property values. If you've got money, you trick out your garage. Get a lift. Get a hoist. Fuck it, dig an oil pit. You can do it! That's your man shed. Build some racks out of hog panel and hang all your tools in some haphazard arrangement that makes sense only to you. You've got to be your own mechanic if you want to keep your vehicles running.

Then there's the Baker family themselves. They were nice. Normal. Probably voted for Trump, but so did everyone they know. Of course they'd take pity on a nice white woman and a little girl begging for shelter, they're not animals. Jack was ex-military and pushy; Marguerite was socialized to stand by him whether or not he treated her well; Lucas was an amoral genius who couldn't make it in the real world; Zoe was at least prepared to fly the nest but either she'd tried and had to retreat, or she hadn't quite gotten up the nerve.

By the time we meet them, Jack and Marguerite are caricatures of themselves. Violent, paranoid, impulsive, irrational, moody. They can barely even function. Marguerite's kitchen is swarming with cockroaches and flies, and Jack's outbursts destroy the furniture and walls of the home that he was once proud of. The areas where Jack and Marguerite live are heaped with garbage bags, dimly lit, and filthy.

Every time we meet Lucas, he's wired as hell. Lucas seems hyperfunctional, constructing his elaborate traps and escape rooms, except he can't make the details come together. He lines the walls of his areas with white plastic sheeting, but the mold creeps through the seams anyway. He doesn't bother to change the codes on his padlocks. He toys with Ethan and banks on Ethan being too dumb to shove a bomb through a conveniently placed hole in the wall.

Zoe can still be reasoned with, but we see her fears in her diary. We see the tinfoil taped over her window to block the light.

Lucas, Jack, and Marguerite exhibit behavioral changes consistent with early, chronic, and long-term methamphetamine abuse. Their house bears the same marks of frenetic remodeling, ambitious yet ill-conceived design choices, repetitive behaviors, and neglect that scar so many homes occupied by meth addicts.

Meth is like other drugs in that it rewires the brain to promote drug-seeking behavior, but it also over time causes the brain to atrophy. Signs resembling dementia or schizophrenia eventually occur, accompanied by cognitive decline, and much of this is permanent. It becomes harder for the user to fight back against their dependency (against Eveline) the longer they use the drug (the deeper Eveline's mold works into their bodies).

This is an American horror story, it's a familiar American horror story, and it's a love letter to our country from Japan that seems to me to say, "We're so sorry about what you're going through. Here, shoot some mold-monsters about it."

[mamadoc]

Hello Chenford fanfiction friends!

I got another chapter of my Worth the Wait story posted this evening.

Here’s how it starts.

Tim stood in their half-empty garage for a long time staring at the slab of concrete which Ashley’s Jeep should have occupied.

Eventually his sleep-deprived, emotionally exhausted, and completely dumbfounded brain comprehended what had happened. Ashley was gone. He wasn’t sure if she was gone for the night or gone for good, but she had left. She had left him and their daughters.

He staggered into the kitchen to get a glass of water as his mind struggled to understand what this could mean if she was really gone for good. When he set his glass down to shuffle back to his bed, he saw through the dim moonlight that illuminated the kitchen a large manila envelope that hadn’t been there earlier. Upon closer inspection, it had just one word in the center: Tim.

He flicked on the lights and settled down on one of the tall kitchen stools to inspect its contents. The envelope was much heavier than he anticipated, which only made him more curious. On the top of the stack of papers was a handwritten note.

Tim,

I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to say goodbye. I can’t live this life anymore. I can’t be a mother. I’m just not wired that way.

I finally got all the money from my dad’s house and estate this week. I made a trust fund for Aly and Lily with 50% of the money. He would have wanted them to have that. All of that paperwork is included in this envelope.

I’m using some of the money to go far away. I sold my Jeep. I’m going to drop it off at the buyer’s home and then go to the airport. By the time you get this note, I should already be on an airplane. Please don’t look for me. I don’t want to be found. I’m leaving the US for now. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.

You are a great dad. I know that you love Aly and Lily very much and that they’ll always be safe with you. If you choose to tell them anything about me, please be kind. I know that I’m an awful mother. They know that, too. I think that this is for the best for all of us.

Also enclosed in this envelope is my release of all parental rights. I worked with a lawyer to finalize it this week. According to the law, you are their sole parent with all rights and privileges. I will never be able to regain those, have any contact with the girls without your permission, or argue for custody of any type. I’m releasing all three of you from me and my horrible mothering skills.

When I first started this process, I felt a lot of guilt that I was abandoning you and the girls, but as it completed today and I bought my plane ticket, I felt more free than I have since before I had that positive pregnancy test.

I know you probably hate me. You have every right to. I just can’t do it though. I tried, but I can’t. At least I was able to give you the children you always wanted to have. I’m sorry I don’t have anything more to give.

You can sell or donate anything else in the house that was mine. I don’t need any of it.

I’m sorry that I was never good enough for you to love. Maybe you can go back to LA and find Lucy. You always loved her more than me anyway. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to be a mother to the girls or a partner to you.

If the girls ever ask, please tell them I tried.

Goodbye, Tim.

Ashley

Read on here to see how Tim manages life by himself with newborn twins. You’ll also get Lucy’s story during her time undercover.

It’s another long chapter, so hydrate and get comfy.

[chrisdrysdale]

Honey love

farmer!bucky x farmer!fem!reader. (part of the “Farmland sweetness AU)

Summary: He always had his eye you, out feeding your animals, picking fruit and flowers, checking up on the honey bees but he's always been to scared to make a move, until now

18+ only <3

warnings: tooth rotting floof, flirting, shy bucky and reader, slow fluffy sex, cuddles, lots of kisses.

a/n: might turn this into an AU so maybe send drabble asks about the story?

word count: 2.2k

dividers by: @danowh0re

He was perfect, you were perfect. It was meant to be You don’t really know how all of this happened. One day you’re in the big city, good job, good relationship.. The next day, you’re moving out, fired and single. You decided to move out to the countryside, you need a detox from the big city. You settled into a small farm, other farms surrounding you. 

When you got settled you had no animals on the farm, just some old beehives from the previous owner and cat who came with the house called, Mittens. You were happy, but you wanted a purpose on your land. You ordered some cows, sheeps and chicken and fixed up the beehives and now you had a purpose. The catch is, you didn’t know anything about farming.You decided this would be a good time to introduce yourself to your neighbours. On your left hand side you had, Steve. He was tall, blonde and very strong. He showed you the right food to buy for your cattle and how to shear the sheep in the summer and where to sell it to. Two doors down from you was Tony, he was the techy one, he showed you which tractors and ploughs to invest in. On your right you had Ari, he didn’t really show you anything, he was too busy checking you out and just told you if you needed any heavy lifting to come to him. Wanda and Nat lived next to Ari, they showed you their beehives and how to care for them. Jake was the last on the street, he gave you some started seeds for berries and flowers which you were very thankful Then there was Bucky, he lived a few doors down from Steve. He had farmland and lots of experience. You knocked on his door and your breath was taken away when he opened the door. He was gorgeous, tall, muscular, dark brown hair and a scruffy face. He was perfect. You gave him a sheepish smile before speaking. “Hi, I’m y/n, I moved in a few weeks ago and I’m jus’ setting up my land now and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks”. He smiled softly at you and opened his door wider. “Why don’t you come in, honey. I got a book of buyers and sellers that can help you”. You blushed and took his offer, stepping in and the smell of vanilla and oak overcame you. “I’m Bucky, by the way”. He led you into the kitchen and stuck on the kettle and began rummaging around looking for the book. “I assume you met everyon- oh please tell me you haven’t talked to Ari?” You giggled softly and he groaned. “God he tries to get his hand on every woman who come onto the street, you should have seen how disappointed he was when he found out Wanda and Nat were lesbians” You laughed softly and he smiled at you. “You have a beautiful laugh” 

You blushed hard and he handed you the book, filled to the brim with leaflets and cards. “Woah, thank you Bucky” “You’re welcome, honey. Would you like some tea?” You smiled and nodded as you began flicking through the book, but got a little shocked when a white fluffy cat jumped up on the table. The cat purred and nudged his head under your hand, you gently rubbed him and smiled when Bucky turned back. “I see you’ve met Alpine” “Aw! That’s such a cute name.” You kept petting him as Bucky handed you your tea and soon enough Alpine nestled down on the chair beside you. “So tell me about yourself, y/n. What's a gorgeous girl doing out here on a farm all alone”. You blushed at his slight compliment and told him the whole story of how and why you moved out leaving him in awe. “That’s quite the life story, honey”. You nodded and finished your tea. “Don’t I know it” You looked over at the clock and then out the window to where the sun was setting. You closed over the book and looked at Bucky. “I should probably get going now, I have a lot of animals to feed now” You both chuckled and you gave the book back to Bucky but he refused. “Keep it, honey. You need it more than I do”. You smiled and gave him a quick hug before leaving. 

The next few months were amazing for you. Flowers and plants began blossoming up all over your land, all your animals were healthy and producing well and you were getting close with all your neighbours. You and Steve would constantly bake on the weekends and you, Wanda and Natasha would all package up honey to sell. But you also grew closer to Bucky, you could sense that something was there. You just didn’t know what. You would constantly have tea at his house, sometimes bringing whatever baked goods you and Steve made that weekend and him teaching you the tricks of the trade. But then it all kinda stopped. Bucky stopped inviting you over and slowly started to stop coming out onto the road. You vented your heart out to the girls about how you were feeling and they felt awful for you, but there wasn’t much they could do, there wasn’t much anyone could do. So you gave up. You realised he must not feel the same and that nothing was going to happen. But that’s not what was happening. Bucky wanted you so bad that he had to distance himself from you, too worried to upset you, or make you uncomfortable that he literally had to take himself away from you. You were out the next day, scraping up some honey from your beehives as mittens flops and rolls around the grass beside you. You spotted someone walking up the lane and soon realised it was Bucky. You quickly dropped your scraper and began taking off your bee suit and running over to him. You opened your gate and ran down to him. “Bucky! Hey Bucky!” He turned and gave you a nervous smile. “H-hey, honey” You gave him a big hug and gently rocked side to side. “I’ve missed you so much! Where have you been?” “Jus’ been a bit down, lovely”. You frowned at his words. “Well why don’t you come over for a picnic later”. Bucky smiled softly and nodded, making you squeal with excitement. “How about four? Oh! And bring Alpine too, he can play with mittens. You smiled and let Bucky start walking again. “See you later!!”. You ran back to your house and instantly began preparing. You made your best sandwiches and picked your best strawberries, and got the best bottle of champagne from Wanda and Natahsa and packed up some of the cookies you and Steve made this weekend. You showered and got changed quickly, putting on a small sundress covered in little flowers. You went down to your field with your basket and blanket in one hand and mittens in the other. You laid it down and placed mittens on it before setting up the platter of food and laying little flowers on it. You sat down once you saw Bucky walking up the lane. He walked in your gate, Alpine trotting along behind him, you waved at him and he waved back. You stood up and hugged him as he got the blanket. “Hi Bucky” “Hi Honey” you both smiled and sat at the blanket and you showed Bucky. “I made ham and cheese sandwiches, picked and washed some strawberries from my greenhouse, those are cookies me and Steve last weekend and I stole some champagne from Wanda and Nat.” Bucky smiled widely at you. “Wow y/n, this all looks amazing.. You really didn't have to do all this for me”

“But I wanted to, you said you were feeling down, plus you helped me so I help you”. He smiled at you with so much love in his eyes and looked at the food. “Can I try one of your sandwiches?” You nodded and handed him one and you both began to eat. As you both ate you talked over how life has been and how you both were. By the end of the picnic, your head was resting on Buck’s shoulder and both the cats were snuggled up together. He gently stroked your arm and inhaled the scent of your hair as you watched the sunset. “I missed this honey, I missed us”. You sat up and looked at him, gently stroking his face. “I missed it too..  I got really worried about you. Why were you down Buck?” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I can’t tell you sweetheart” You pouted and moved your hand to his chin. “Yes you can..” Once he heard that, he gently moved his face closer to yours and kissed you softly, taking you by surprise but you kissed him back. The kiss slowly became more and more passionate as Bucky brought his hands to the side of your face and mumbled out. “That’s why I’ve been down.. Couldn't have you”. He kissed you more and you crawled into his lap. “I want you too Bucky”. You moaned out into the kiss making him pull away. “You sure?”

“Positive.” Bucky quickly scoops up you and two cats before running back to your house. He dropped the two cats off at the door and brought you upstairs as he kissed you more. He kicked open your bedroom door and laid you on the bed, groaning at the sight of your perked nipples through your dress. He pulled off his flannel and his vest before kneeling between you and kissing down the outside of your dress. “Fuck, you’re gorgoeus, honey”. He kept going down before laying flat on his stomach and flipping your dress up and tugging down your pretty white panties revealing your dripping core. Bucky licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. “Yup.. sweet like honey” Bucky ate you out like a starved man as you fisted his hair up in your hand and rocked your hips into his face before coming all over it. You panted as he kissed back up to your lips. You swirled your tongue around his mouth, your taste still lingering as your hand went down into his jeans. You began to gently stroke him, making him groan into your mouth but suddenly he pulled your hand out. “That’s for another day, baby. I need to be inside you”. You moaned at his words and pulled off your dress and bra as he undid his boxers. But then looked at you with a frown. “Condom?” but you winked back “pill” 

He pushed in softly but fast, making you scream in pleasure as he bottomed out. “That’s it baby, take my cock”. You moaned and arched your back as he began to slam into you, holding your waist. “Fuckin’ dreamed of this honey”. He laid on you, holding your face as he kissed and fucked you. You tugged on his hair, wrapping your legs around his waist  and digging your heels into his lower back. Bucky groaned and sucked a small hickey. “Taking me so well, baby, I’m all in there”. You moaned louder and louder as you clenched around him. “Oh fuck honey! You close already?” You moaned and your cheeks went flushed red. “Sorry” “No No please don’t apologise, I’m close too”. He panted into your ear, rocking his hips fast as you kissed him again. He moaned into your mouth. “Cum for me baby” You moaned loudly and clenched hard around him, causing his own orgasm to wash over him. You both froze, staring at each other as your highs slowly faded. You brought your hand up and stroked your thumb over his flushed cheek before he kissed you softly. Bucky pulled out slowly and quickly ran to your bathroom and grabbed a towel before coming back and wiping you both down. He tossed the clothes onto the floor and helped you under the covers, holding you close. “Get some rest, honey. You need it” you nodded and smiled before quickly falling asleep, Bucky following soon after.

You wake up the next morning to the smell of pancakes floating through the house. You quickly grabbed Bucky’s flannel and put it on, running down stairs and hugging Bucky’s waist. He chuckled softly and hugged your arms. “Hi Bucky” 

“Hi y/n, how’d you sleep beautiful?”

“So well” you replied back as you went over to the two cats, curled up on the couch. You went back over to Bucky and looked at him before speaking. “What happened last night, I ho-”. Bucky cut you off with a kiss and chuckled softly. “No it wasn’t just a one time thing.. I want this with you honey… I want it all”. You kissed his cheek. “Good.. Cause i want it all too” 

Bucky smiled at you and dished up the pancakes. “C’mon love, lets go have this on the deck, maybe Ari will come out and believe me you don’t wanna miss his reaction when he realises he can’t have you either!” 

Fin! <3 

A/N 2: reblogs, comments and likes are all appreciated!! 

tags: @navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy @captainsimagines @buckybarnesandmarvel l @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls l @bubblessunshinehoney @buchanansbaby