#Maggie also makes me cry

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 18

Masterpost Read on AO3

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: As an update, I am eyeing another chapter after this followed by an epilogue. A nice, even 20 parts. Thank you, as always, to everyone who reads, comments, shares, and otherwise supports this fic. I love you all so much. Now for some healing!

---

December 11 Nassau Bay, TX

A house is nothing but four walls and a roof, a place to live, a place to sleep. It doesn’t have to be anything special. It doesn’t have to mean anything at all.

A home, on the other hand, tells a story. Its walls are infused with the memories of a life lived, for better or worse, within their bounds. It’s made what it is not because of its structure, but because of the people who make it their own, all the little moments etched in time.

Growing up, Gale thought a lot about the difference between a house and a home, never quite sure which one he had. The little house he grew up in was nothing special. He doesn’t remember it fondly. He doesn’t have a particular desire to remember it at all. And yet, when he thinks about the off-white walls of that old living room, he can see himself playing on the carpet in front of the worn sofa, flying a toy F/A-18 Hornet through the make-believe sky. It had been a birthday gift from his dad, who was arguably proud of his son, if absolutely nothing else, because of his interest in aircraft. 

Gale can see his father leaning against the wall by the door, watching him. Little Gale looks up at him with an excited grin as he makes whirring little engine noises, and his father gives a barely-there half smile back – Gale had to get that facial expression from somewhere, after all.

He can also remember the day he didn’t hear his dad calling his name because he was lost in the clouds, dreaming about flying a real jet someday. He remembers the way his dad stormed into that same living room, ripped the toy jet from his tiny hand. The way he sneered at the pale, vulnerable look on his child son’s face, scolded him for daydreaming when he should have been doing his chores. Maybe it was taking out the trash. Or doing the dishes. Or sweeping the porch.

Or maybe he did nothing wrong and his dad was just drunk again. 

Either way, Gale remembers the way his dad threw that F/A-18 at the wall, the way the wing snapped right off. He remembers the way his dad shoved him when he cried, called him pathetic, said he needed to start acting like a man.

Later on, his dad repaired the wing with some super glue, but it never looked quite right again.

Gale has a lot of memories like that. A little good mixed with a lot of bad. The walls of that house told a story alright. He just doesn’t think it’s a story that ever earned it the title of home.

When he remembers the kitchen – light yellow walls, gray cabinets, a gas stove – he thinks about early days of his childhood, clinging to his mom’s bright, flowery skirt as she baked cookies that tasted like heaven. He remembers her light, comforting voice saying his name. He thinks about how she let him lick the spoon, asked him what sprinkles he wanted to use, let him help put the dough on the baking sheet with small, innocent hands. 

But then he also thinks about setting the kitchen table for dinner, his dad burning his arm with a cigarette for breaking a glass. Or maybe it was a plate. He thinks about fingers wrapped tight around his teenage throat when he came back home too late one night. He can practically feel the bruises, hear the impact of being shoved unceremoniously against the door. Next time he was late, his dad threatened, he’d spend the night in the yard with the dog. 

Other than the fact that it was nearing December and night time temperatures were below freezing, Gale couldn’t decide if that would be so bad. He got smacked for that, too. 

When he thinks of the small master bedroom, he thinks of his mother. One day there, the next day gone. He remembers the smell of her perfume filling the room. Little Gale, still too young to understand why she wasn’t coming home. Why that scent would fade away, becoming nothing but a memory, something to pop up randomly here and there in his adult life and fill him with some sense of longing. He thinks about his father cleaning out all of her clothes, chastising Gale for not wanting to get rid of any of it, for trying to sneak out a shirt or a scarf that smelled like her. 

Then there were two. Hardly a family, and far from a home.

The house on Nassau Bay couldn’t be more opposite.

He stands in the middle of the living room, looking around at the life he’s built. Warm, light beige walls decorated with artwork, prints of aircraft and spacecraft, photographs of his de facto family. Framed pictures of him and John are scattered around. In the middle of the room, across from their TV, is a coffee table, two armchairs, and a well-worn gray couch, semi-permanently occupied by Pepper and sometimes Meatball. Morning sunlight fills the room, leaving patches of light on the hardwood floor.

Gale has spent the last hour adjusting the furniture layout – spreading out the coffee table and chairs to make space, shifting the couch back so it’s under the window, putting away stray dog toys and shoes, cleaning up the blankets and pillows he’d been using to sleep out here – just to make it easier for Bucky to move around in a wheelchair or on crutches. He even rolled up the rug to keep the floor even.

He’s been obsessively doing anything and everything he can to make their home a comfortable space while Bucky heals. He bought a shower chair for the master bath and a plastic cover to put over Bucky’s cast to protect it from water. He bought an assortment of loose sweatpants, flannel pants, and shorts so Bucky has more options for what to wear over his cast. The kitchen has been stocked with his favorites of late. Soup, chicken and rice, or eggs for when he’s not feeling well. Or richer things like pastas and casseroles. There’s orange juice and smoothies and jell-o. And Marge – who rested a hand on either of Gale’s shoulders and told him to take a rest – is making chocolate chip cookies. 

As Gale stands back and studies his work in the living room, trying to decide if it looks alright, his chest feels tight in a way he can’t quite explain.

As a young adult, he never bothered with buying a house, choosing instead to rent something out wherever he was stationed with the Air Force. When he and John both got selected to the astronaut training program based in Houston, they intrinsically knew that it was the right time to take that step. A sort of settling down, even though they were preparing to quite literally launch themselves off the face of the planet. Admittedly, they didn’t spend too long looking for a house, seeing maybe two or three local listings which were all perfectly fine. Then one day, Benny, who had been accepted into the program the year before, mentioned that a house down the street from him was for sale.

Gale fell in love with it the moment he saw it. And John loved it because Gale did.

It’s a one story, ranch-style house on a quiet street just a 5 or 10 minute walk from the water. A beautiful white brick and stone exterior with a sweet little front garden that they try to plant flowers in every year – an endeavor that often includes Gale trying to find plants that match the climate and sun exposure of their yard, while Bucky insists on “experimenting.” There’s also a backyard with a large patio for entertaining and enough grass space for the dogs to run around. 

Gale remembers the day they moved in, sweating from the July heat but grinning from ear to ear with the excitement of a young couple on the verge of their future. Before they even started unloading the U-Haul, he stood in the middle of the empty, echoing house, staring at the walls, the ceiling, the windows. He couldn’t believe it was theirs. A place they could really make a life together. A place that he could call home, maybe for the first time in his entire life. Bucky found him standing, wide-eyed, in the living room. He wrapped his arms around Gale from behind, kissed him on the cheek, ducked down to rest his chin on his shoulder. 

“Welcome home, angel.”

Gale remembers dragging the couch through the door, collapsing down on it that first day. They sat, leaning against one another, surrounded by shoddily labeled, mixed up cardboard boxes full of their belongings. Exhausted, Gale said something noncommittal about getting to work unpacking. But John pulled him to his feet, kissed him silly, lead him to the bedroom where their new mattress lay on the floor, bed frame yet to be constructed. 

They lived off cereal and takeout for several days in a row, but they sure did break in every piece of furniture, every surface.

He remembers hot, desperate reunions when they each returned from their respective ISS expeditions, touching each other for the first time in six months. Their hands roamed over one another’s bodies with an insatiable desire to relearn every inch of each other. Bucky would grip his waist so hard he thought it might bruise, pressing him against the wall or the bed. Gale would twist his fingers into Bucky’s hair, kiss every place he could touch. He remembers it being rough and kind, a sense of desperation driving them to claim one another all over again as if the last time they were together was a lifetime ago.

He remembers late nights with their friends, Curt crashing on the couch, Benny or Marge in the guest room, sometimes Rosie or Alex on the floor. Midnights spent drinking and laughing, dumb jokes and good people. He remembers this house being filled with more people than it was meant to hold, buzzing with life.

He remembers the day they brought Pepper home, almost a year ago now. She was nothing more than a tiny, 10 week old ball of fluff with one ear still flopped over. He remembers the way they sat on the rug in the living room with her that evening, completely enamored with their new addition. “We’re a little family now,” Bucky said, smiling at Gale as he held the puppy up to his face. Gale scrunched his nose and closed his eyes, laughing as Pepper licked his cheek. Next thing he knew, Bucky’s lips were on his, and he felt himself melt a little inside.

Family. Home. Family. Home. 

They’re not words Gale takes lightly. They’re words that he will protect. Even though they’ve only been here a handful of years, this house tells their story, memories built on memories that he holds close to his heart in a way he never knew he was allowed to before. 

When he thinks of their kitchen, he thinks about making pancakes on Christmas morning, flour everywhere, chocolate chips and blueberries and chopped bananas spilling across the counter. Bucky singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio. He’d pull Gale close, plucking the spatula from his hand, and convince him to dance with him around the island until they were both giggling like children and the pancakes were starting to burn.  

When he looks at the front door, he thinks about all the times Bucky flung it open, yelling “honey I’m home!” as he walked inside. Sometimes he’d bring flowers for the vase in the window or pastries from Gale’s favorite bakery. He thinks about stumbling through on their wedding night, eager and drunk on nothing but love for each other. 

When he thinks about their yard, still drenched in sun and warmth in the middle of December, he thinks about the day he and Bucky stood in the middle of it, holding tight to each other's hands as they held the keys to their new home. He thinks about washing their cars in the summer, chasing each other with the hose. He thinks about Pepper and Meatball running outside to greet him. He thinks about standing in the driveway and watching Bucky teach some of the neighborhood kids how to ride a bike up and down the quiet road. 

Of course, the house holds bad memories, too. Fights they’ve had, times they’ve lost their temper, raised their voices, slammed a door or walked away. Times Gale cried alone because John was in space for months on end and he missed the closeness, the warmth, the weight of John’s head resting on his chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat. Times John got drunk for the same reason, wanting nothing more than to hold Gale tight and kiss him in the dark. Still too fresh in Gale’s mind is the memory of collapsing to the floor, Marge rocking him in her arms because he didn’t know if his husband would come home alive. 

The walls will hold onto that memory. They won’t let him forget that the life he built here with John Egan very nearly became nothing but a flash in his mind, moments to look back on fondly, with a watery smile and a choked sob, a whispered I miss you. 

That almost might never leave. It’ll be months before Gale can wake up in the morning secure in the knowledge that his husband is here with him. It’ll be months before he stops jolting awake with tears in his eyes and a scream in his throat. It’ll be months of hard work and pain and frustration to make Bucky feel whole again. 

But it’s time to start pushing forward. 

Gale has never been a particularly religious man, but he will gladly thank whatever Gods may be listening, because his prayers were answered. Starting today, two weeks after splashdown, there will be memories of John coming home to add to all the rest.  

“Buck?”

Gale looks over to see Rosie standing in the entryway to the living room. 

“Ready to go?”

Taking one last look around, Gale starts to nod, then stops short. “The mirror.”

He didn’t replace the damn mirror in the master bath. Benny was the one to clean the bathroom, dispose of the glass fragments and scrub the tile until it was free of Gale’s blood. Gale’s barely even stepped foot in there in weeks, choosing instead to use the guest bath. 

Marge appears from the kitchen. “Benny’s on his way with a new one,” she assures him. “We’ll get it set up before you’re back.”

Gale doesn’t know what to say, so he nods dumbly as he twists his wedding ring around his finger, trying to quiet the storm of worries and hopes and needs and fears buzzing around in his head. Marge steps towards him and pulls him into a hug. “Take a breath, hon. He’s coming home.”

—

It’s raining, just the littlest bit. It’ll be done by the time they walk through the hospital doors, but dark clouds gather in the sky, casting shadows over the ground and darkening the hospital room. It makes Gale’s heart constrict with an unease, a sense of foreboding. He tries to shake it off, because he’s not in his bedroom on a stormy night. He’s not being jostled awake by Benny. His world isn’t crashing down with the water falling from the sky.

He leans against the doorframe of Bucky’s hospital room, hands shoved in his pockets, and he watches his husband for a moment. Bucky is looking out the window, watching the rain fall, the cars go by. He’s dressed in the same shorts and Air Force Thunderbirds t-shirt as he was the day before. A half finished plate of scrambled eggs, potatoes, and fruit sits on the tray beside him from breakfast, seemingly pushed aside and forgotten. Gale wonders if he didn’t finish because he felt sick or because he’s protesting hospital food. 

He looks healthy, despite the whole being in a hospital thing. That damn cold lingers, making him stuffy, his face sore from the pressure. His lungs protest when he breathes too deeply, or sometimes even when he doesn’t, and the cough won’t go away. Not to mention the broken leg. But he has color back in his cheeks. His eyes are clear, his face unworried. His heart beats steadily, and he’s able to breathe well enough without the cannula.

“Hey, darlin’,” Gale says at last.

Bucky turns his head, and he stares at Gale for a good second or two, uncomprehendingly. But then a grin spreads over his face. “Hey, angel.”

Gale feels his heart swell, and he takes a deep breath before stepping into the room. As he sits on the edge of the bed, Bucky grabs his hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. 

“How ya feelin’ today?”

Bucky shrugs, looking down at their intertwined hands. He coughs once, holding his breath for a second to prevent it from getting worse. “I ain’t dead.” He squints, cocking his head like something is bugging him, but then he looks up and meets Gale’s worried gaze. “Almost went down in history for the wrong reasons, huh?”

John Egan. First astronaut to die on the moon. What a headline that would be.

Gale chuckles even though the acknowledgement of that damn almost makes him feel physically ill. “Think you’re goin’ down in history?” He forces back the flashing mental image of a tri-folded flag, a three volley salute, a missing man formation. 

Bucky’s eyes have that mischievous glint back, that look of invincibility, like he’s daring the universe to take another stab at him. “Oh yeah. The world will remember John fuckin’ Egan.”

And the thing is, Gale knows they will. 

By 1pm, Major John Egan is being discharged from the hospital. Paperwork complete, Gale carefully packs up every single get-well card, along with Bucky’s clothes and medications. Beary Egan gets carefully tucked into the top of the duffel. 

Over the past few days, Nurse Clara has kindly worked with them, teaching Gale how to help Bucky with daily tasks: things like changing clothes, safely getting in and out of the wheelchair, covering the cast with plastic to take a shower, and anything else that may be hindered by his lack of mobility. She patiently answers every question Gale has, and he has a lot. 

With the IV removed, Clara and Rosie stand by as Gale, all by himself, helps Bucky slowly get to his feet. With a few curse words, one panicked moment where Bucky nearly topples over, and a lot of strained encouragement – “we’re alright, we can do this, look at me, sweetheart” – Gale manages to help Bucky change into fresh clothes. The whole ordeal – while far more pleasant than the process of getting Bucky suited up on Starship and Orion – has Bucky swearing as he grips Gale’s hand or shoulder so hard his knuckles turn white, leaving accidental bruises on Gale’s pale skin. 

It’s a bit cold out, so the outfit of the day is black and gray plaid flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt with an astronaut on the front. Above and below the astronaut are the words “Houston, I am the problem.”

A gift from Curt and Alex.

Finally, Gale helps Bucky shrug on a black zip-up hoodie and get settled into the wheelchair. Bucky forces a smile as he sits down, even leaning forward to kiss Gale on the cheek. “I love you,” he whispers.

They leave the hospital with a detailed rehabilitation, check-in, and physical and occupational therapy schedule. They also leave with a hefty hospital bill that Harding won’t let Gale so much as see, stating that NASA will take care of it.

Bucky doesn’t speak at all on the way home, not seeming to notice when Gale tries to ask him things like “how are you feeling?” or “excited to see Pepper?” He just stares out the window and watches the dark clouds roam across the sky, his brain too tired to do anything else. Gale has found himself wondering, in the last week, if there’s a reason why the brain fog is better on some days and worse on others. Other than night vs. day, he can’t find a rhyme or reason as to why Bucky gets confused sometimes, why he seems to fade away here and there. The doctors assure him it’s normal with the injury he had. Just like the shaking hands and fine motor control, it’ll take time. Gale hopes they’re right, but he still feels a painful worry twisting in his chest when he notices it. 

When they pull into their driveway, the word “home” pops out of Bucky’s mouth, and Gale reaches over to squeeze his hand.

It’s only when they pull to a complete stop, really taking in the sight of their house, that they notice the Christmas lights newly strung up along the roof, a strand of brightly colored bulbs joined by sparkling white icicle lights. Gale certainly didn’t have time to hang them, and it’s the middle of the day, but they’re lit up anyways, welcoming Bucky back with some holiday cheer. In the back seat, Rosie says “would you look at that,” and he reaches forward to rest a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky focuses on those lights for a moment, and Gale watches the way they seem to ground him, waking up his brain a bit more as the blues and reds and greens reflect in his eyes. He squeezes Gale’s hand back. 

When his offer to help is declined, Rosie hauls the wheelchair out of the car, leaves it in the driveway, and heads inside to give the newlyweds some space. As Gale helps Bucky to step out of the car and sit down in the chair, though, he sees that not everyone got the message. He catches a glimpse of curly red hair on the porch of the house across from them, and he can’t help but smile. “Incoming,” he whispers to Bucky.

Bucky looks up as he settles into the chair, blinking away the fatigue, and his face brightens when he sees Maggie. Jane rushes out the door after her, grabbing her shoulder. “It’s alright,” Bucky says quietly, and Gale relays this information, shouting across the road.

Maggie immediately breaks away from her mom’s hold, barrels down the steps, checks both ways before crossing their quiet street, and she stops just short of colliding with Gale. Always so expressive around them, the little girl suddenly turns shy. Unsure what to do, she half hides behind Gale as she takes in the sight of Bucky in a wheelchair for the first time, his cast visible at the bottom of the pant leg.

Bucky’s smile doesn’t leave his face, though, and he tilts his head to peer around Gale’s legs until he’s looking Maggie in the eye. “There’s my favorite little astronaut.”

With a gentle hand on her shoulder, Gale nudges her forward. “Go on,” he insists. With a hesitant little stutter step, she moves out from behind him, looking up at him as she does so. 

“I told you he’d come home,” she says. Matter of fact. Like there was never a single doubt that John would survive.

Gale wishes he could have been that certain. He envies the way children view things like life and death, through a lens of naivete where the people they care for are invincible. He’s grateful, though, that Maggie was spared the worst. That she never knew the full story. 

She doesn’t notice the way he bites his lower lip to choke back a sharp, startled inhale, but Bucky does. He glances at Gale, eyebrow raised with a myriad of questions that he can’t ask, but then he looks back to Maggie. He grabs her small hand in his even though his fingers shake, and she grips back so he doesn’t have to focus on holding on.

“Sounds like you were very brave while I was gone,” he says to her. 

Maggie nods. She has this determined set to her eyes, a seriousness all over her face as she stands in front of him. Yet her voice is small and innocent, and Bucky hopes she’ll always stay this strong and kind. “I knew you wouldn’t leave us forever,” she tells him.

It’s Bucky’s turn to bite back tears, because, even though he knows, on some level, that it wasn’t really up to him, she’s right. He hides the thickness of his voice and the tightness of his throat with a cough that’s been tickling at his chest anyway. He directs it into his arm away from the little girl, then rubs a hand over his face. After he blinks a few times, willing away the wave of emotion that he’s sure will only get higher and higher throughout the day, he looks at Maggie again. 

“Learn to ride that bike yet?”

Maggie shakes her head. “I waited for you.” 

Gale remembers her words clearly, ringing in his ears. That awful day feels like years ago and like yesterday at the same time. The day he felt like his soul might disintegrate into the stars if he had to take one more breath without knowing if Bucky would survive. “He’ll come home. He has to. He promised he’d teach me how to ride a bike.”

“Might have to wait a bit longer. Until I get this thing off my leg.” Bucky pulls up his pant leg to better show the cast extending from knee to foot.

Maggie stares at it for a moment, unsure what to make of it, before she crouches down and runs a finger over the rough texture with a frown. She inspects the names written all over it – Curt and Rosie and Alex and Gale and more she doesn’t recognize. “Can I sign it?” 

Bucky tells her of course she can, and Gale digs around in the duffle until he finds a few colorful sharpies to offer. Maggie chooses the purple one. 

“Where’s a good spot?” Bucky asks her, leaning over to analyze the cast with her even though it hurts every single part of his body to do so. Maggie squints her eyes, analyzing her options, before she points to a spot above his ankle, right under Gale’s name. She looks at both of them for approval before uncapping the marker. 

She signs her name in big, slightly wobbly letters: MAGGIE with a carefully drawn heart at the end. 

“Perfect,” Bucky says, grinning at her as Gale takes the marker back. Then he adds, “by the way, that drawing of us? Museum quality.” He’s referring to the one that Jane brought to the hospital, of Maggie and Bucky on the moon together. Maggie rolls her eyes at his dramatics but looks pleased anyway. “You sure you wanna be an astronaut, not an artist?

The girl nods vigorously, her curly red hair bobbing against her shoulders. “I wanna be just like you,” she tells them, once again like she doesn’t have a single doubt in her mind. “I’m gonna go to space someday.”

Gale feels emotionally drained at this point, unsure how much more he can take even though everything about today is edged with hope and homecoming. He swallows thickly and puts a hand on Maggie’s shoulder as he glances back towards her house, where Jane is sitting on the porch. She waves to him. He looks back down at the girl, a little in awe at how he and Bucky have somehow managed to mean so much to her. How she has managed to mean so much to them.

“Well,” Bucky says. “If you’re so sure about that, I have something for you.” Gale takes his cue and rifles through the contents of the duffle bag until he finds Bucky’s PPK. Safely tucked into the bottom of it is a small, clear plastic envelope, which he lays in the palm of Bucky’s hand, face up so Maggie can see. 

Inside the plastic is a thick, heavy coin about two inches wide, engraved with braided edges and the Artemis III logo in the center, designed by the crew members themselves. A big red “A” with the middle line swooping out to the left, fading from red to blue as it loops around the moon and ends with the Orion capsule docked to Starship in front. Overlapping the right side leg of the A are the roman numerals III in dark gray. Printed around the edges are the names of the astronauts: Egan, Biddick, Rosenthal, Jefferson. 

“Do you know what this is?” Bucky asks Maggie. She shakes her head. “It’s a challenge coin,” he tells her, going on to explain that a challenge coin is carried by members of a special group, signifying their membership. Every big NASA mission gets its own challenge coin, and all of the crew members carry a few of them. 

Bucky kept one for himself and traded one with one of the Navy guys on the USS Portland, so this is the last one he took on board Orion. “This coin is very special,” he tells Maggie, urging her to take it. So carefully, she plucks it from his palm, holding it up close to her face so she can read the names. “I carried it with me on the moon.”

Maggie’s eyes go wide, shooting back to Bucky, who grins at her. He presses his palm to hers, the coin in between.  “Now it’s yours. Something that’s touched the stars. See? You’re on your way to being an astronaut.”

Maggie’s smile broadens, and, as she clutches the coin in her hand, she throws her arms around Bucky’s neck. It’s awkward over the chair as she tries to avoid jostling his leg, but she isn’t deterred, squealing an elated “thank you” as she holds on. Bucky wraps one arm around her in return.

When Maggie pulls back, Gale kneels down beside her, even though the pavement is still wet from the morning rain, and he wraps an arm around her. “Why don’t you flip it over?”

Maggie does so, and she runs a finger over the back of the coin, feeling the texture of the raised image. An astronaut on the moon, the Earthrise and the stars in the sky behind him. “Is that you?” She asks Bucky. 

He laughs. “Could be.” 

Gale points to the lettering along the bottom of the backside. “See that?”

“What does it say?” Maggie asks, rubbing her thumb over the italicized words. 

Bucky recites them to her, but his eyes are locked on Gale the entire time. He watches Gale silently mouth the phrase along with him, not only the mission motto, but a promise to one another. “Ad lunam. Ad astra. To the moon. To the stars.”

—

With Maggie safely back across the street, Gale wheels Bucky up the walk to the front door. As he turns the knob and pushes it open, Rosie appears on the other side, holding it for them. 

“Welcome home, darlin’,” Gale says as they enter the foyer.

Bucky smiles tiredly as he takes a deep breath that rattles his chest and nearly causes him to cough again, but it’s worth it to smell the scent of home. He tilts his head. “Cookies?”

Gale chuckles, but doesn’t answer, wheeling Bucky past the foyer and into the living room. The moment they’re within view, he’s met by a chorus of “Welcome home!” and the sight of his closest friends sitting around the slightly rearranged living room. 

“Astrofag!” Curt calls out from his seat in the middle of the couch. On one side of him is Marge, Benny on the other, while Alex sits in one of the armchairs. Rosie trails in behind Gale. A banner with hand-lettered words is strung across the back wall: “We’re glad you’re alive!” More space balloons float around it, and in the time that Gale and Bucky were outside, Rosie has already displayed all of the get well cards from the hospital on the side tables and tv stand.

“Did you miss me?” Bucky grins, holding his hands out to the side like a risen savior as Gale eases him to a stop in front of the coffee table, close to the empty armchair.

“Had enough of you for a lifetime,” Benny jokes, calling back to what Bucky said to him in the hospital nearly two weeks ago. He gets to his feet, though, and walks over to Bucky, leaning down to give him a side hug.

“I almost died, you have to be nice to me,” Bucky claims as he returns the hug.

“And how long does that last?”

“Until Gale quits gettin’ all nervous every time I cough or somethin’.” Every time he coughs. Every time he zones out. Every time he feels nauseous or complains about his head hurting. Every time his fingers shake and he can’t hold his own fork or move his own wheelchair.

Everyone looks at Gale, who, in the presence of his best friends, doesn’t even try to hide his blush. He secures the brake on Bucky’s wheelchair before sitting in the armchair beside him, and Benny returns to his seat while Rosie sits on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

Bucky nods to a tray of cookies in the middle of the table. “Who made those?”

“Marge,” Alex says.

Bucky just about groans. “Thank god. They’ll be good then.”

“Hey,” Gale shoots back, offended, as Marge laughs.

Bucky waves him off. “I know you didn’t make ‘em, doll. Got my head on straight enough to know you’ve been with me all day.”

Marge gets to her feet to grab a cookie and hand one to him across the table. “I made them how you like them.”

Milk and semi-sweet chocolate chips, but not too much of either so that there’s parts of the cookie with no chocolate at all. It’s called balance, he told her once during a late night trauma-dumping/baking session.

Bucky takes the cookie, biting into it as he closes his eyes. Silently, he’s so fucking grateful that he hasn’t felt any nausea today. “Real food,” he mutters.

Gale scoffs, even though this ‘perfect cookie’ was his own recipe to begin with. “Not sure a cookie counts as real food.”

Bucky flips him off, his middle finger still not quite able to get all the way up without the others, and he takes another bite. It’s been too damn long since he had some quality snacks. It’s better than wheat chex, that’s for sure. And he’d take the wheat chex any day over the bland desserts they tried to give him in the hospital.

The guys – and Marge – stay for a bit, talking and taking comfort in being all together again, all of them alive, home, on the road to healthy. When Bucky starts to drift, going quiet as it becomes more and more difficult to focus on the conversation, everyone makes their excuses to head out, leaving the Buckies alone to rest. 

Benny returns ten minutes later with an overenthusiastic husky straining at her leash – the antithesis of rest – and he passes her off to Gale through the front door before leaving them again. The dog knows immediately, her paws tippy-tapping on the hardwood as her tail wags so hard Gale doesn’t know how it doesn’t hurt. “You’re gonna have to stay calm, baby girl,” he tells her.

“Come on, Buck,” Bucky calls from the living room. “I’ll be fine.”

When Gale finally walks Pepper into the living room, Bucky has managed to get himself turned around to face them. Gale keeps her on a tight leash as they walk forward, holding her back from flat out charging at Bucky. Her entire body is wiggling as she tries to pull away. “Easy, babe,” Gale tells her.

When they finally reach Bucky, he loosens the leash, and Pepper immediately presses her nose to Bucky’s knees, his thighs, his cast, his hands, any part of him she can as she wags her tail and pants. She looks like she’s smiling, completely overwhelmed with the excitement of her other person finally being back where he’s supposed to be. Bucky laughs and scratches behind her ears and under her chin, letting her lick and sniff and press her head against him. He grimaces when she nearly jumps on the chair, bumping his bad leg, before Gale catches her and tells her firmly to stay down. Bucky hardly cares, though, his fingers clutching weakly at her soft fur, unwilling to let go.

“Hey, Pep,” he says, his voice strained with emotion. He tilts his head as he strokes her ears, his eyes fluttering closed so that Gale can see stubborn tears clinging to his eyelashes. Bucky takes a deep, rattling breath, and he stares at the dog as she sits loyally beside his chair, watching him with the same love in her eyes. She rests her head on the armrest and licks his hand gently.

Bucky gives her a wobbly smile. “Thought I’d never see you again.” 

Gale sets a comforting hand on his shoulder, and time seems to freeze for just a moment. One perfect moment. A snapshot of their little family.

That afternoon, Pepper wolfs down all of her food, totally unprompted, for the first time in days. 

—

For the first time since the morning of November 19, Gale sleeps in their bed.

He’s hardly stepped foot in this room except for this morning, when he took a deep breath, told himself it was time to get his shit together, and set about changing the sheets, getting everything ready for John to come home. Sharing this bed feels so familiar, and yet so different. He finds himself holding his breath, like if he disturbs the moment, breathes too loudly, blinks too hard, then it’ll simply evaporate, and he’ll be stuck in the same Purgatory that he was nearly a month ago. He tries to ground himself in Bucky’s warmth, the familiar shape of his body, his scent – different than usual due to being in the hospital, but somehow still him. Smoky and sweet. 

It’s December. Even in Nassau Bay, Texas, the current night time temperature is near 40 degrees, and yet Bucky insists on sleeping shirtless while Gale tucks himself into an old NASA sweatshirt. At first, Gale worried about Bucky getting too cold, what with the pneumonia and the head cold and the TBI. But Bucky wouldn't hear it. “You’re gonna make me overheat,” he said. 

Now, Gale doesn’t mind so much that he can feel Bucky’s skin beneath his hands. Warm, not cold. Alive, not dying.

They don’t sleep at first. They lay awake in the dark, Gale curled up with his head on Bucky’s chest. His cheek and ear nestle against Bucky’s bare skin, and he listens to the beating of his heart. Their hands cling to one another, and Bucky plays mindlessly with Gale’s fingers. That same old habit that he’s had since they were in college.

Gale wonders when such little things will stop making his chest constrict in anxiety and relief.

“I know you broke the mirror,” Bucky says eventually, his voice cutting through the silence.

“Mmm.” Gale doesn’t deny it. 

“I ain’t dumb. It doesn’t even have the same frame.”

“Benny replaced it this morning,” Gale says passively, even though he’s staring dead ahead in the darkness, ublinking. 

“You punch it or what?” Bucky knows his husband. He knows how stoic everyone thinks he is, how calm and collected Major Buck Cleven tries to be. But he also knows that Buck – Gale – can snap.

“Mmm. The morning I found out.”

“Straight to the dramatics.”

“Benny woke me up,” Gale drawls, his voice steady, measured, even though Bucky doesn’t miss the nervous undertone in the way it shifts. “I thought you’d be dead by the time I got to JSC.” He says this matter-of-factly. He doesn’t tell Bucky that he imagined his entire funeral, word for word, breath for breath. “It was touch and go for a while there.”

“I was the one dying.”

“You were passed out those first few days.”

They’re quiet for a while. Slowly, slowly they’ll learn what the other went through. Someday, they’ll fall apart late one night or early one morning, and it’ll all spill out in a tidal wave that threatens to crush them under the weight of this aftermath. They’ll hold each other tight and try to hold back the sobs and remind each other to keep breathing, remind each other that they’re still breathing. 

But it’s not time. Not yet. It hurts too much, and they don’t have the words. Right now, they’re not sure that they’ll ever have the words. Right now, all they can do is hold on tight.

There was never anything that could break them, Marge said at their wedding. They may have come damn close, but here they are, unbroken.

So they sit in silence. Gale counts Bucky’s heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. Five…

When he hits thirty-two, Bucky says, out of nowhere, “It was like I could hear you.” As if he’s been thinking over something troubling for some time now. 

Gale tenses. “Mmm?”

“W-When I was, um…” Bucky takes a deep breath. He coughs once, weakly, and it jostles Gale. But he rests his free hand on the back of Gale’s head, holding him there, not wanting to lose that reassuring weight. “I guess I was unconscious. Those first days after I… after…”

Why is it that, in the dark, it feels easier to talk about the hard things, and yet it’s harder to find the right words?

“You were in a coma,” Gale says. “Completely non reactive.” That’s what Dr. Huston told him. What Curt told him. 

“I know,” Bucky agrees. He makes a breathy, frustrated sort of sound, and Gale can imagine him squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his jaw as he tries to figure out how to say what he needs to say. Gale waits patiently.

“Everything hurt so bad,” Bucky finally explains. “I could feel it. I could hear Curt sometimes, too. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t fuckin’ think. I-I was just… I couldn’t… Fuck.” It was like he was floating, not part of the world, not part of his body, but in so much goddamn pain he wanted to scream. He doesn’t know how to tell his husband that, though. 

Instead, he pushes forward to what he needs to tell Gale now. “But it was like you were in my head. I heard your voice. It made me… it made me keep breathing, y’know?”

Gale goes completely still, eyes wide, unblinking, not breathing. Bucky’s fingers try to grip his hair, but can’t seem to close around the strands. Gale grips Bucky’s hand. He bites hard at his lower lip.

Bucky’s voice gets thick and tight, and Gale can hear his chest rattling as he breathes, threatening another coughing fit. “I-I knew I had to… I had to…” Another painful pause. “I had to get back to you.”

Gale holds back the wet little gasp that wants to tear through his gritted teeth. A tear drips off of his nose and onto Bucky’s bare chest, and he wonders if Bucky feels it. He tucks his face against the warm skin, needing to be as close as possible as he curls around Bucky’s body in a way that makes it unclear if he’s trying to hide against it or protect it from the world, make sure it can’t break any more than it already has. 

“I couldn’t leave you,” Bucky chokes out. Gale can’t see his face, but his husband’s voice alone is enough to cave his chest in with a crippling kind of sorrow. “I couldn’t do th-that to you. I had to… I needed…”

Gale can hear the tears building up in Bucky’s voice now, and he wants to make them go away. Yet he knows they both need this. They both need to feel this pain, let it drown them, just for a little bit, as they grip so tightly to each other that their fingerprints become embedded into each others’ souls. They need to face it, or they’ll never be able to move forward. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

“I-I think I…” Bucky takes a careful, controlled breath. He thinks about the stars he could see through Starship’s window, flickering in the darkness. He thinks about the pain burning like fire through his body and his brain. He thinks about wanting to die, near begging a god he didn’t believe in to carry him away from that damned place because death must be better than whatever he was going through. 

But in the darkness, a star shines on. A heart beats. A mind dreams. The Earth turns. And even when he couldn’t wake up, when he was consumed in agony from the inside out, Bucky thought of his husband. He heard his voice, saw his face, wanted nothing more than to hold him tight and hang on forever. And even when he wanted to give up, he fought to stay.

Bucky’s breath shudders, and he feels tears dripping down his cheeks. He closes his eyes. “You’re what kept me alive, Gale.” 

You’re the reason I had to stay alive. The reason I had to come home. 

You are my home. 

Gale is quiet for a long time, listening to Bucky’s heartbeat. He presses his lips against Bucky’s chest. “Don’t tell Curt that,” he whispers.

Bucky laughs wetly. He can feel Gale’s tears against his chest, and he strokes his husband’s hair. “I know,” he says, “But. It was you, angel. It was always you.”

—

It’s 1am when Bucky asks Gale if he’s still awake.

Gale, still tucked against Bucky’s side, nods sleepily. His eyes drift open, taking their sweet time adjusting to the darkness of the room. He shifts just slightly, making Pepper huff in annoyance where she lay curled up right at his feet.

He presses his lips to Bucky’s shoulder. “You okay?”

He waits so long for an answer that he wonders if Bucky actually said anything at all. But eventually it comes: “Hurts.”

“What does?”

A pause. “Everything?”

Gale nods again in understanding. Leg, head, chest, ribs. In that order. Possibly his back as well.

“I’ll get you some pain killers,” Gale says. He reluctantly pushes himself away from Bucky and crawls out of bed, his foot getting caught on the blanket as he goes. His mind flashes back to the way he scrambled out of bed on November 19th, sheets tangled around his feet as the room tilted, Benny approaching him like a wild animal.

His heart beats faster, faster, faster.

“Thanks, hon.”

Gale takes a breath. He walks to the kitchen, flicks on the lights, reaches for the little orange bottle of prescription pills sitting on the windowsill. He stares at the tiny print, remembering the doctor’s instructions. One pill every 6 hours as needed. He does some mental math, concludes that it’s been well over 6 hours since the last dose, dumps a tablet into his hand, and fills a glass with water,

When he returns to their bedroom, he finds Bucky sitting up with a pillow behind his back, looking at a too-bright phone screen – Gale’s too-bright phone screen. Gale turns on the lamp on Bucky’s bedside table. “What’re you looking at?”

Bucky sets the phone on his thigh so he can take the pill and glass of water, swallowing both down. Gale glances down at the phone, and he finds that the saved email from their wedding photographer is pulled up, the cover photo of the digital album displayed on the screen.

Bucky sets the glass down on the table, the bottom of it rattling as his hand shakes. He looks up at Gale, who is still hovering over him. “Thought we could look at them. Together.”

Gale can’t quite bring himself to smile, his brow scrunching into something pained but full of love. “Yeah,” he whispers. He walks back around to the other side of the bed, stopping to scratch Pepper on the head, and he sits back against the headboard. Tucking his legs beneath the covers, he presses himself against Bucky’s side.

Bucky offers him the phone, too tired to focus on making his fingers work right, and Gale opens the album once again.

It’s strange, really. These are the exact same photos that Gale looked at before. Some of them – especially those of John in the groom’s suite – he’s stared at and stared at, unable to look away and unable to move forward. These photos carved a hole into his chest even as he fell in love with every image, at one time thinking that if he never got to see his husband again, at least he would be left with such perfect, life-filled photographs. 

They made him sob and they made him panic. They made him chuck his phone away because they filled him with too much everything and he was overloaded with the weight of it. They made him grieve.

But here they are. The same exact pictures, and they look completely different somehow. When the gallery opens, Bucky sinks down so his head rests on Gale’s shoulder, and Gale wraps his arm around him. He balances the phone on Bucky’s chest and turns to press his nose into his hair. 

Bucky’s lips curve into the most genuine little smile the moment he sets eyes on the photographs of Gale in the bridal suite, and it hits Gale in the weirdest of ways that, even though he’s seen these specific pictures a handful of times now, Bucky hasn’t. This is the first Bucky has seen of Gale’s pre-ceremony experience. “You’re…” Bucky huffs out a disbelieving breath. “God, Gale, look at you.”

While Gale holds the phone, Bucky uses a finger to swipe from photo to photo, pointing something out here and there – how he didn’t realize Gale was so nervous, too, or how lovely Marge looks or how much he loved that white suit – or sometimes just staring with his hand poised over the screen like he’s eager to get to the next one but reluctant to move away from the one he’s on. He stops for a long time on a candid of Gale standing in front of the mirror, looking down with a nervous smile on his face as he adjusts his cufflinks. The light coming through the windows hits just right, making his suit seem brighter and his boutonniere pop. It highlights the freckles on his cheeks that Bucky sometimes likes to kiss or poke at. 

Gale thinks he hears Bucky whisper the word “wow.”

“Sorry I ain’t that pretty all the time,” Gale jokes self-deprecatingly.

Bucky turns his head, glances up at him. “You get more and more beautiful every day, love.” He reaches a hand up to grab Gale’s chin, satisfied at the way it makes him blush. Gale feels the metal of the wedding band rub against his jaw, and he motions for Bucky to keep going through the album. 

“Ah, look at that handsome man,” Bucky says when he gets to the pictures of the groom’s suite. “Whoever gets to marry him sure is lucky.”

Gale scoffs, hiding his face in Bucky’s hair. He squeezes Bucky’s hip with the hand wrapped around him and whispers, “I am.” 

“Holy shit I was nervous,” Bucky admits as they scroll through. Gale stops him every once in a while, wanting to look at certain photos for just a little longer even though he’s drilled them into his mind already. Bucky biting his lip anxiously as Rosie fixes his cufflinks, Bucky kneeling down to pet the dog, Bucky with his head thrown back in a full body laugh, looking beautiful, carefree, happy.

They reminisce over their first look, feeling like they’re there all over again, seeing each other for the first time, reaching out to touch, at a loss for words.

And then it’s on to uncharted territory, the photos that Gale never managed to get to. He takes a deep breath, and he decides right then and there that it’s okay. After everything, right now, they get to look at their wedding photos together. Just like any love-struck young couple.

One small step on the road to normal. 

“Someday I’ll thank her for holdin’ you up while I was gone,” Bucky says when they get to a picture of Marge walking them down the aisle. Gale can only nod, because nothing he could ever do could ever repay her for, well, everything.

“Were you crying?” Gale asks as he zooms in on a picture of them at the altar, holding tight to each other’s hands. Bucky is biting gently at his lower lip as he looks at Gale, and his eyes are glistening in the light. 

“I don’t know,” Bucky laughs now. “I was so focused on gettin’ my vows right. I don’t even know.”

“Wait,” Gale smirks and leans his head down, trying to get a good look at Bucky’s face. “Are you crying now?”

Bucky shakes his head, but he also scrubs at his eyes with his hand. He presses himself even closer to Gale, if that’s possible. “I have a head injury,” he says meekly.

“Yeah, sure,” Gale drawls, kissing the top of his head.

There’s a few pictures of the ring exchange, and Gale remembers how badly Bucky’s hand was shaking that day. The irony of it claws at his throat, but neither of them say a word. He remembers how fast his own heart was racing. He remembers the feeling of that cool silver band sliding over his finger. He remembers the look in Bucky’s eyes.

They spend a long time looking at the series of photos from during and after their kiss, remembering how the entire world disappeared in that moment, just them, their own universe, the greatest love story ever told. Naturally, they’ve barely kissed since Bucky returned. 

“Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you like that,” Bucky promises.

“Why tomorrow?”

“Cause the meds are kickin’ in and I’m too comfy to move.”

That would make Gale smile, but he finds he already is. He’s barely stopped this whole time, even when the pictures bring tears to his eyes and shove a lump into his throat. He holds Bucky tighter.

After the ceremony photos – Bucky jokingly declares that the best one is the one of Meatball and Pepper crashing their kiss – there’s plenty of staged photos of the wedding party and even more of John and Gale. And then there’s the reception.

Speeches. Curt and Marge standing on a chair. The newlyweds holding hands at their table, whispering into each others’ ears, kissing sweetly like no one was watching even though everyone was watching. People dancing and laughing. Gale dancing with Bucky, with Marge, with Chick. John having a dance off with Curt and Alex. Cutting the cake – Bucky smashing a piece into Gale’s mouth. Kissing through the icing, staining their lips blue. John and Gale on the mezzanine, John kissing him on the cheek. Gale tossing the bouquet over his shoulder. All of their Air Force friends, Benny included, scrambling over each other to catch it like it was a football and they were trying to win the Superbowl. Meatball grabbing it in the chaos and running full speed through the reception hall.

Gale laughs as he sees those photos for the first time. “I didn’t even know that happened.” When he doesn’t get a response, he looks down at Bucky. “You still with me darlin’?” 

“Mhm,” comes the reply. And Gale realizes that Bucky is struggling to keep his eyes open. But he blinks and glances up at Gale. “That was the best day of my life, you know.”

Gale’s lips part, but he doesn’t have anything to say. He wants it to have been the best day of his life, too. But after everything… 

Gale doesn’t believe in miracles. But as far as he can tell, the day Bucky splashed down in the Pacific was as close to one as he’ll ever get. So after everything, is it strange that he thinks the best day of his life isn’t the day that marked the rest of his forever, but the day that kept that forever intact? The day John came home to him. 

He can’t bear to say all that, though. So he nods as he turns the phone off, and he wraps his arms more fully around his husband, feeling the warmth of his bare skin and the reassuring weight of his upper body. He finds himself feeling comfortable, safe, secure, not afraid. He almost feels like he could just nod off right here. “It was a damn good day,” he agrees. 

Within moments, Bucky is drifting off in his arms, relaxing into his embrace. Carefully, slowly, Gale eases them both down, so they’re laying more comfortably on the mattress, but he doesn’t let go. And for the first time since early October, together, in their own bed in their own home, they sleep.

—

December 12 Nassau Bay, TX

It’s raining.

For real this time. At least, John really hopes it’s real.

He sits on the couch and stares out the window, listens carefully. The house is filled with that eerie but comforting light of an afternoon rain storm, gray and blue and green with a daylight sort of darkness that settles over everything with hardly a shadow. 

Drops of water drip down the windowpane, and Bucky watches them. He presses his finger to the glass and traces their path as they roll down. He listens to the steady beating of raindrops on their roof. He pretends he can smell the fresh earthy scent of a storm mixing with the salty air of their home on the bay. He pretends he can feel the cool water sliding over his bare skin, plastering his hair to his forehead. 

The rain has been falling for over half an hour now, and his heart reaches out to it. He has to wonder if it’s real, or if it’s only a dream. He often wonders that – was all of it a dream? Is it all a dream? Will he wake up one day, still on Starship, and find out his trip home, his successful failure, wasn’t real? Maybe the accident never happened. Or maybe it did and he never actually woke up.

Or will he wake up one day in this very house, learn that he never went to the moon at all? Will he be shipped off to quarantine to do it all again?

But his leg throbs with his heartbeat, and sometimes his head still spins. Every cough reminds him he’s alive. He holds onto Beary Egan as he sits on the couch, Pepper at his side, and while many things are blurry or missing, there’s so much that he can recall in such detail. If he closes his eyes, he can see the surface of the moon stretched out before him. Nowhere and everywhere. But he was there.

“John?”

Bucky’s brain takes far too long to understand that someone is saying his name. When he finally tunes in, for a second he thinks it must be Curt or Rosie. Checking on him, trying to get him to eat something, telling him it’s time to do this or that thing that is going to cause him pain but is necessary anyways. 

But the voice says his name again, followed by a gentle “darling?” and a smile slips over Bucky’s face. 

He turns his head to see his husband, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. His hair is unstyled, soft and messy. He’s wearing jeans and a black sweater. Bucky is once again wearing his own Yankees sweatshirt – if for no other reason than to make it smell like him again. For now, it smells like Gale, and it makes him feel safe. 

“You okay?” Gale asks. He raises an eyebrow in concern. He looks at Bucky like that a lot now – concerned.

The truth is, everything hurts. Everything feels icky. Everything about Bucky’s body feels wrong and out of control. But he nods. Because right now, he is actually okay. 

He woke up in his husband’s arms, his dog at his feet. Gale made him pancakes, and when he couldn’t quite stomach those, he cut up a bunch of fruit and let Bucky drink as much orange juice as he wanted. Gale told JSC he wouldn’t be in today, and they spent their morning watching a movie on the couch while Bucky scrolled through their wedding photos again. Lazy and domestic, just trying to heal.

Bucky reaches an arm out towards Gale, making a grabbing motion with his hand. Gale’s face softens and he walks across the room, settling on the couch beside Bucky. He wraps his husband in his arms, and together, they stare out the window at the water falling down onto the Earth.

Gale closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, holding Bucky tight. He presses his nose against the dark curls at the back of Bucky’s head, where that shaved patch is finally growing back. He tries to remind himself that John is here, in his arms, safe, not going anywhere. He tries to block out the rhythm of the rain, wills it to stop.

All he can think about is that night, a storm pouring buckets over their town, when Benny woke him in the darkness. 

One single moment can change the way you see even the most fundamental parts of the world. Something that once was beautiful, now bears nothing but pain. Fear and grief. That’s the song sung by the rain.

Gale listens to its melody, wondering if it’ll ever change its tune.

“You know,” Bucky says. He presses his whole hand against the cool window glass. His eyes flick momentarily to Gale’s, then back to the view of their backyard. “The rain is one of the things I missed the most.”

Gale blinks. “Mmm?”

Bucky nods. “The moon is so… empty,” he says, frowning. “I mean, it’s amazing. It’s beautiful. I wish I could go back. But it’s quiet. Unchanging. Dry. I missed water.”

Bucky seems to drift away again after that. One moment, he looks focused, speaking purposefully. The next, his eyes go a little hazy and the expression just drops from his face. He leans his head against Gale’s shoulder, and he stares out the window. Gale half expects him to fall asleep, but just as he’s about to ask Bucky if he’s still with him, Bucky shifts, tilting his head in thought.

“I remember wanting to feel the rain. I’d pretend I could feel it running over me, soaking my hair. I pretended I could taste it on my tongue. Like when we were kids, y’know? Playin’ in the puddles.”

Gale stares thoughtfully out the window, trying to see it in the same way. His heart beats a little too fast, though, when he can’t shove away the memory of that morning. 

He tries to smile weakly, pressing his lips to the back of Bucky’s head to hide the way he wants to cry at the memory mixed with the visual of John here, in his arms where he belongs. “Come on,” he says.

Bucky looks at him questioningly, but he doesn’t have a chance to resist because Gale is already standing up, crossing the room, retrieving the wheelchair. And then he’s lifting Bucky in his arms and settling him into it.

Bucky shifts in the chair, grimacing as he tries to get his leg positioned right. “What are you doing?” 

Gale puts a finger up and walks away again, leaving Bucky alone in the middle of the living room in a chair that he’s hardly any good at maneuvering on his own. But he returns moments later with the plastic cover for Bucky’s cast.

“We’re gonna go outside.”

Bucky blinks at him, then glances out the window again. “In the rain?”

“Mmm.” Gale kneels in front of Bucky, and Bucky watches as Gale gently lifts his bad leg, slips the cover up over the cast and secures the top of it at his knee. Then he helps Bucky get his leg in a comfortable position again. “Good?”

Bucky nods. Gale pats his good leg gently before getting back to his feet and wandering over to the coat closet. He hands Bucky one of his warmer raincoats so he can pull it on over his sweatshirt. “What?” Bucky asks when he notices Gale watching him do it. “I can get my own jacket on, Buck.”

What he doesn’t realize is that every time he does some menial task on his own, Gale’s heart is working to mend itself back together. Because Bucky doesn’t know the conversations Gale had to have with Dr. Huston and Smokey. He doesn’t know how terrified Gale was that Bucky would never be able to do these things again.

But outwardly, Gale just rolls his eyes, because Bucky doesn’t need to know all that. Not right now. He pulls on his own coat, ruffles Bucky’s curls as he steps behind him, and pushes him towards the front door. Pepper, finally convinced that they’re doing something worthwhile on this tired, rainy day, gets up from the couch to follow behind them.

The last time Gale stood in the rain, he was dressed in nothing but his work clothes. He stood frozen, drenched to the bone, unable to feel anything at all. Sandra had to save him. His mind flashes to that moment as he walks out the door, pushing Bucky out in front of him. He nearly freezes when he feels the cold raindrops hitting his face. He doesn’t bother to put his hood up.

But he notices something: he can feel it now.

As Gale wheels him out to the driveway, Bucky holds out his hands and looks up, closing his eyes as he feels the fat, heavy drops splashing onto his skin, soaking into his hair. Even on the Gulf, the rain is freezing in December, but it makes Bucky feel more alive than he has since he woke up in Starship half dead. 

Gale steps out from behind him and takes his hand. “So you didn’t have this on the moon?”

Bucky laughs. “If we did we’d have colonized it by now!”

Pepper runs in circles around them, darting from one side of the driveway to the other with her face to the sky, her thick fur slowly getting matted down. They both laugh as she gets down and rolls in the grass, staining parts of herself green. Gale knows he’ll have a hell of a time giving her a bath, but it doesn’t matter. 

He watches Bucky take in the vibrant world around them. The fresh smell of the rain and the salt of the bay. The bright colors of the Earth, the sound of the raindrops pounding the ground. Their house, their street, their dog, the trees and the grass and the water streaming down the road. All of it so alive. 

When Bucky’s eyes finally reach Gale again, he stops. He raises an eyebrow, a grin brightening his face even as his hair is soaked to his head and his flannel pajama pants have no hope of ever being dry again. “What?” He asks. 

And Gale realizes he’s been staring. He knows he must look like a wet dog, but Bucky looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I missed you,” Gale says. Like it isn’t obvious. Like those words can possibly encapsulate what he means.

Bucky reaches out his other hand and looks at Gale expectantly. “Help me up.” 

Gale looks skeptical, but he hauls Bucky to his feet – or, foot. He keeps one arm around Bucky’s waist, keeping him steady, and Bucky grabs onto his shoulder for balance. They’re getting better at it. 

“Now what?” Gale laughs. 

Bucky doesn’t say a word. Just ducks his head down and presses his lips to Gale’s. Gale freezes in surprise, but it’s not even a second before he closes his eyes and has to remind himself that he needs to be the strong one, keep himself steady, even as he melts. They grip onto one another, holding on for dear life, and Bucky kisses his husband like it’s their wedding day. 

Gale sighs into it, and he feels Bucky smile. They’re both soaked to the bone, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters other than the two of them together, right here and now. 

Because, finally, they’re home. 

...

...

Part 19

[aprylynn]

Receiptify time!!!

I was tagged by @cordiallyfuturedwight @epiphanytear @cosmicdreamgrl (did you all have florence on yours? i love having friends with the best taste!)

tagging @lauraperfectinsanity @raplinenthusiasts @sevencoloredstar

@sutherlins @hopeinthebox @hvseoks

[buyingaradspaceship]

since I repressed/masked that meltdown at the weekend all the feelings have felt stuck since and it’s made my feel shit!!! and nervous. so to get them out I finally decided to go on an emotional media binge so I could cry (and it sure worked yippee lmao)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Maggie Service at the London Comic Con Spring, 2.3.2023 :) ❤

Reporter: Also in Doctor Who but better known for her role in Good Omens, the series which promotes inclusivity, it was Maggie Service's first Comic Con.

Maggie: I've just had this lovely mom, who whose children aren't here today, but are non-binary and trans and - it's going to make me cry again - but they've just, you know, they've said that the character gives them a place to be.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Maggie Smith (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie)— Look, ok she's best known now for Downton Abbey and the Potter franchise, but the woman won an Oscar in 1969, so that makes her eligible in my oh so humble opinion. She starred opposite Olivier in her first major play role (which was filmed) and her wit and beauty was just the epitome of everything I wanted to be as a child

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

Maggie Smith:

[carlsangel]

VIRGINITY (PART TWO)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl get some alone time.)

tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)

masterlist here!

read part one here!

The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.

This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.

“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.

“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.

When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.

“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.

“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.

The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.

Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.

He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.

You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.

He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.

Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”

Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.

You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.

“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you to both moan loudly.

He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.

Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What is it?”

“We forgot the condom.”

a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)

ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz

(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)

[seaemberthesecond]

DECLAN FIC RECS

I was making a Declan-centric fic rec list for someone recently and figured more people might be interested, so here are my absolute favourite Declan gems in the fandom, in no particular order.

barnstormverse by stewyonmolly (@declansboobs)

This has me frothing at the mouth insane. Maggie wishes she wrote this. it's a lilo and stitch no-magic au but also not, it's just fucking fantastic. This Declan is IMPECCABLE.

Cry, cry Christmas by stewyonmolly

By the same author as above. It's a f/f jordeclan story and the lynch sisters dynamic in this makes me insane. I stay up at night thinking about it.

Every single thing by juinbug (@broekhart) on ao3 but particularly:

The Woeful Wednesday A series of unfortunate events au

Rosemary by the garden gate A Practical Magic AU

Waiting for the earth to grow an apocalypse au except it's so chill no really they're just hanging out

They have a superstore au that makes me cry laughing too. Honestly just read everything by this author, their fics are fucking perfection, just so funny - unmatched comic brilliance, but also deeply considered and heartfelt. They get jordeclan like NOBODY else and the way they write Declan&Matthew is perfection. No one is doing it like them.

Mo mhamai cliste by rainbowagnes

An exploration of Declan and Aurora's relationship. I cry and throw up every time I read this.

Neither a dreamer nor a dream by kiiouex

Declan character study that is so so fantastic. Makes my chest hurt in the best way.

Since you've been home, see what you've become by mici (@eggsac)

And

A is for apple, B is for boy, and C is for carrying the weight of dreams by mici

The first is about Declan babysitting opal and is so poignant and perfect. The second is actually opal-centric not Declan centric but nevertheless has an excellent Declan and has dictated how I think about opal-and-declan ever since I read it.

Feel free to add on to this post if you have any recs!!

(I would just ask that the fics be actually Declan-centric and not uhhh pynch fics where Declan just happens to be there)

Happy reading <3

[menlove]

what do you think of paul’s relationship with maggie mcgivern? it’s one of the less talked about relationships he’s had

it's very interesting to me! i found myself deep diving on it for chapter one of i need you (never leave me alone)

some of the things that stand out about it to me are:

it's interesting how she talks about how most every time she hung out with paul, she was also hanging out with john. like it very much throws a wrench into the whole "they weren't even friends they didn't hang out with each other beyond business by those later years" thing some biographers parrot (& cynthia seemed to have believed)

along with THAT, she was also on the 1966 paris trip they took while john was filming how i won the war. she talks about how they laid on the grass looking at the eiffel tower together. and like. all that sort of makes me sit there and go "hmmmmmmmmmm" and ponder if they had a bit of a threeway going on lmao. i have like 0 evidence towards this beyond just the vibe i get when she talks about her relationship w john & paul while she was with paul but like.... it's super interesting bc john was so SO blatantly jealous of all of paul's other partners, but not maggie? and she also seems to be like really fond of john when she talks about him which. again. SUPER super different compared to literally every other woman in paul's life who basically goes "that guy fucking sucked, he was a menace, i don't get why paul was so into him" like..... maggie seemed to adore john right along with paul and i just look at that dynamic and go HM.

she was also one of the women paul asked to marry him (although apparently like in a very weird & vague sort of way) when he was freaking the fuck out in 1968 for No Apparent Reason

and there's a LOT of questions i have about his whole. showing up at her house the night before he married linda crying and not saying anything before leaving forever like ??????? what was THAT about? it's not like maggie was the one true love of his life or anything, i don't think he's ever talked about her, like. what the fuck was it abouttttt i'm so beyond curious

and then ofc he ghosted her and basically dropped her for linda around the summer of 68 without a proper breakup after she said no to marrying him which is super shitty. it's just interesting bc before that it seems like he treated her better than his other girlfriends & she has nicer things to say about him than like, francie or jane. but it still is very much like. he was using her in a deeply upsetting way and i wonder how she looks back on All That

edit: ope this is starting to get notes which i didn't expect it to so here's the source that i used when writing the fic that talks about her. it lists its own sources although not super thoroughly so- but i really don't think there'd be much reason to lie about a random paul gf so. take it w a grain of salt but also i'm inclined to believe it lmao

[retroellie]

Breed Me

Summary: After babysitting, you have massive baby fever and would kill for Daryl to get you knocked up. Surprisingly, Daryl isn't completely opposed to that idea.

A/N: The number of pregnant smuts i do just shows my mommy and daddy issues but i crave daddy Daryl so :). Also, me posting 2 fics in the course of 2 days?!?! Unheard of....

Warnings: Breeding kink, Unprotected sex, spitting, squirting

Word count: 5.6K

"Shhhh" You whispered

You rocked Judith in your arms, bouncing her slightly up and down as she cooed softly. You had promised Rick you would watch her while he fixed up at a farm that was once again being eaten up by bugs and animals small enough to get in the fence. You didn't mind watching her, you actually enjoyed it. You were holding the baby up with one hand and the other you were making her bottle, shaking it up so it was nicely mixed and there was no dry formula to be seen. When you felt the formula was all mixed in with the hot water, you placed it in the little one's mouth and she took it like a hungry man would with food.

"Oh you're hungry aren't you? Huh?" You chuckled

You held the bottle for her as she sucked down the milk, only stopping to catch a breath every once and a while. You rocked her once more, walking over to sit down on one of the picnic tables that were sitting underneath the makeshift roof you guys had put there so the food was protected by rain. You watched her with admiration, her eyelids too heavy to keep her blue eyes open. Her little hand wrapped around your much bigger finger, almost as if to thank you for the bottle you just made for her.

You weren't the biggest baby type gal but Judith was the cutest baby you had ever held, her little features and her soft tiny wisps of hair. You got really bad baby fever when you watched her, seeing as you too could have a small child in your hands but it would be yours to call your own. It sounded like a dream to you, if only the world hadn't gone to complete shit when you were just starting to get your life in check and you found the love of your life. Life was unfair to you like that.

"Good morning Y/N!" You heard, looking up to see who the voice belonged to.

It was Carol, she walked towards you with a smile on her face. Carol was your best friend, she had been with you through thick and thin. A lot of people would question your relationship with her, saying how a young woman in her 20's shouldn't have best friends with people as old as her. There was Maggie or Beth, you guys would definitely have something in common. But no, you chose to hang out with carol. She was more of a mother figure to you, especially since you had lost your mom to the virus and she lost her daughter.

"Mornin' carol! sleep well?" You asked, shifting the baby slightly in my arms.

"It was alright, still getting used to all the people and the noise. Every little sound i heard i grabbed for my knife, it's torture." She explained

You watched as she made her way to the makeshift counter that held all the makeshift kitchen appliances. You would have to agree with her there, it was usually always just the small group y'all traveled in and now there's so many more people to worry about. At night you would hear other's snore, groans and moans, babies crying? It was a bit overwhelming for you, especially when you got so used to glenns sleep talking and Carl's soft snores. The only thing that stayed the same was daryl, his firm grip on you as you slept in his arms will always be there. No matter the place you slept or how many people were in the room, Daryl would always be touching you in some way.

"I made coffee and by the sound of it, you need it." You chuckled, drawing your attention back to the baby now sleeping in your arms. "I made it before this little one woke up." You said, each word becoming more and more like  a baby voice.

"Ugh, you're a lifesaver Y/N!" Carol said, going right to the steaming coffee in the makeshift coffee maker.

The bottle had gone empty, not a single drop left to be drunk. You were genuinely surprised of how fast she drank it but the smile that crept on your face as you saw her small features at rest dropped all the thoughts you had. She looked calm, peaceful. It created a deep twinge in your heart that made you desperately want a baby, you're not sure if it was your motherly instincts or it was the purity that a baby brought into someone's life that you craved. You had seen a lot in the last couple of months, you're not even sure how long it had been to be honest but a baby's purity is what you needed in your life.

You couldn't make it through college or buy a house or even marry the person of your dreams, the world had gone to shit and there was no government left but you still had a body and a man who would get you pregnant in a heartbeat if he could. 'If he could' was the key, if it was the old world, he would make sure you got pregnant in the old world but it's just different now. not only is he so much older than you, which would've been a problem anyways, but he wouldn't want his kid to grow up in this world. It was too gruesome, too risky and he didn't want that for his kid.

"How long do you have the little angel for?" Carol asked, bringing you back to life.

You got up to place her bottle in the sink which was made from a bucket. You rocked her gently, you didn't want to wake her up from her peaceful sleep.

"Uhh, only a couple of hours. Rick needed to fix up the farm and I told him I could watch her." i replied

The wind blew softly under the roof, blowing on the child's bare face which caused her face to scrunch up and then relax back when you wrapped her blanket closer to her face. I smiled down at her, turning over so the wind wouldn't disturb her slumber.

"Well if you need help or a break, you can come find me! I don't think I'll be going out today, I might stick back and help with fence duty." She smiled, pouring some coffee into a plastic cup.

"Thank you, but we'll be okay! I plan on sitting out in the field to write a bit today, though jude would like to help me." you said, smiling down at the baby as she cuddled closer to your warmth.

You wondered about how you would be as a mother, it was only a small amount of time that you babysat Judith so how could you actually know if you'd be a good mom. Were you even ready for a kid or was it the baby fever that was starting to rest in the pit of your mind. There was always fear with the process of it all, especially now with the world being what it is. You're starting to think you should stop baby sitting so much, because recently, especially when babysitting, you have found yourself thinking about having kids.

"Morning sleepy head!" You heard Carol say cheerfully, almost annoyingly. It was evident who she was talking to, you know she liked to annoy only one man.

"Mornin'..." Daryl grumbled back.

You looked up from the baby to be met with Daryl walking over to y'all, his signature vest was the first thing you saw. Then your eyes scanned down his body, all the way down his hair covered face to his toned arms and then finally to his crotch.  You bit your lip as you watched him walk to the counter, grabbing a bowl to pour some food into it. Everything he did was a huge turn on for you, it could be something simple as literally just walking.

Carol had been chatting him up, probably asking for some special requests for when he went out today. You were too enthralled by him to even register what they were talking about. You could see the hickeys on his neck from last night which had you blushing. You weren't going to lie, he was touchy, yes, but you were just as bad, maybe even worse. You couldn't keep your eyes off him let alone your hands, he was just so arousing in the best way possible.

You always felt so annoying with how needy you were when it came to him, you were always asking to be kissed or held or even fucked mercilessly until you couldn't walk the next day. Daryl loved it though and he made sure you knew it too because honestly Daryl felt embarrassed about being older than you, so you begging him to touch you only gave him confidence.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow, throwing it across his shoulder, still conversing with Carol about whatever they were talking about. You had stopped staring off into space and watched as Daryl picked up his bowl, walking off to you. He smiled at you, reaching over to you to grab your hip.

"Morning' sweetheart." He whispered, bringing you in for a kiss.

It was a quick peck, only lasting seconds but somehow it still had you melting into him. When he pulled away you bit your lip, looking up at him. He chuckled, even trying to be sweet, he still got you all worked up.

"Morning dar..." You smiled, going to peck his lips once more.

This one was longer, one of your hands cradled the baby and the other wrapped around his neck to keep his lips interlocked with yours. It felt where you needed to be, in his arms as you cradled a baby between the two of you. That housewife mentally you had never quite gone away, especially with daryl. If he wanted a housewife, you would bend over backwards just to be the perfect housewife for him. You pulled away from him, lips red from his facial hair rubbing against them. He licked his lips, chuckling as he looked down at Judith, touching one of her cheeks with only one finger and rubbing her soft skin.

"Hey there little ass kicker..." He said softly as she shifted in her sleep, cooing and letting out a sigh before going completely limp again. He chuckled slowly. "You stuck watching her today?" He asked you

"mmhmm" You nodded, comfortingly brushing her hair back so her hair wouldn't tickle her small nose. "We're gonna go to the big oak tree and write, maybe have a little picnic together while we're there."

You looked up at him, catching his eyes already at you. His hand, which was placed on the small of your back, made its way further down, resting on your ass as he bit his lip down at you. You so badly wanted to rip off his clothes and take him now, just everything about him made your stomach do turns.

"You look so sexy right now, you being so..." He whispered, stopping when he couldn't find the word he needed in this case.

"Motherly..." you whispered back, giving him doe like eyes.

He nodded, hand tightening around your ass as his breath hitched. He could already see you all filled with his baby, it made his hands shake violently and his mouth go dry. You then reached up, moving your mouth to his ear and whispering.

"If you come back to me in one piece, i just might let you fuck a baby into me..." You whispered so quietly; he thought maybe he didn't hear it at first.

He then choked on his own spit, looking down at you in horror and arousal all at the same time. The thought made all the blood in his body go straight to his cock, trying to swallow down his gasp.

"Okay, I made the list! Just look for the tiny red pills, that should be Alberts heart medicine" Carol called out.

This caused the both of you to jump, daryl hurriedly retracted his hand from your ass and shoved it in his pocket so he could fix himself. You giggled as he did, he turned to carol. She was presenting him a paper. You just continued to rock the baby, watching down at the sleeping child. Daryl went to snatch the paper from Carol, but Carol pulled it away quickly.

She looked between the two of you, seeing how flustered Daryl had gotten in the span of a minute or two and how his lips were red from the small makeout session you had just had, maybe even noticing how tight Daryl's pants had gotten all of a sudden. She squinted her eyes at daryl, a small smirk played on her lips.

"Just follow the list, this is an important Daryl! I know you have some distractions..." she smiled over at you, who was cooing down at the baby. "But I mean it, don't forget anything okay?"

Daryl scoffed, snatching the paper from her. He just shoved it into his back pocket, not really needing a loss for the very few things that were needed.

"I got it" He said sternly, walking past her and to the gate.

To say you were excited for his return was an understatement, just thinking about it created a dull ache between your legs. You just counted to do what you told Rick you would do, which is watch his kid and make sure she doesn't get into any trouble.

Easy enough.

-

-

You love Judith with your entire heart but dear god that child was a little shit. She spit up all over you, pulled chunks of your hair out, and even ruined your book you had been reading by chewing on it. So now you are finally childless, in your small cell that you shared with daryl. You were brushing your hair out, you tried your best to wash the spit up out of it but it still smelled of it.

Although you came back a mess and your back almost broke from carrying her everywhere, the cute little moment you had with her made up for it. She would grab onto your hair when you fell asleep and she would giggle when you read to her, as if she knew what you were saying. you were still tempted with the baby fever, wanting nothing more than your own little one.

You had come back smiling, taking out your hair from the braid it was in and taking off your spit up covered shirt, putting on one of Daryl's much bigger ones. The room was cold, the stone cell causing you to shiver. You really just wanted to collapse on the bed right now, sleep until the morning but you were obviously going to stay up waiting for daryl like you always did.

You honestly forgot about your little promise you made towards him, you were completely and utterly with the child… no thoughts besides her in your mind. So you just went along with your night like you always do, cuddling up in bed with Daryl’s shirt on and a good book in your hand like always. You hadn’t been sitting there for 5 minutes before Daryl came bursting into your shared cell, the metal barred door screeching against the floor.

He held his crossbow on his shoulder, his backpack sitting on his other one. He looked dirty, completely bloodied and bruised. It was evident he had been through hell and back this time but he still came back to you. You looked up at him and smiled, dropping your book so you could greet him. Daryl set down his things, bending down to not break anything but when he stood back up he was met with you.

You jumped on him, bringing him into a hug as if you hadn’t seen him in years. He hugged you back, hands wrapped around you roughly. You were trying to have an innocent moment, the babysitting duty you had creating a softness in you… but Daryl had other plans for you. Your words haunted him the entire trip, his dick so painfully hard against his jeans that he sometimes had to take a minute to just breathe. It tortured him, the words carved into his brain. His hands were rough, gripped into your hips bruisingly hard. You loosen your hug, his hands still attached to your hips.

“You smell like shit..” you joked, smiling up at him. Daryl chuckled, reaching down to peck at your lips and bringing your hips closer to him once more.

“Shit or not I still came back… and in one piece.” He started, pecking your lips here and there as he spoke. “And I’m pretty sure I was promised something if I came back in one piece.”

That’s when you remembered your teasing promise you had made, how could you forget? Maybe you had forgotten so the ache was less painful or maybe your mind was completely shut off, you have no idea but the thought coming back to you had your cunt clench. You needed him, you fucking needed him so badly. You lust for him suddenly coming back to you all at once.

“Then what are you waiting for…” you said, voice soaked with lust.

Daryl let out a grunt, a low deep grunt that he didn’t know came out until he heard it. He didn’t waste anytime, engulfing your lips with his as he massaged your hips. You tightened your arms around his neck, bringing him so close so your stomach was hitting his. You could feel every twitch that came from his dick, it hit your stomach perfectly and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together.

Daryl’s kiss was rough, rough enough to bruise your lips, be bit and lapped his tongue around them. He had waited all day for this moment and he was going to savor it. He bent down, grabbing at the back of your thighs and lifting you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around him, gasping slightly as his cock was now pressed around your cunt that was only covered with a thin piece of fabric.

Daryl led you to the desk that was in your room, slamming the door shut before making his way over. He placed you on the wooden surface, your legs still wrapped around him tightly.

“Thought about this all fucking day…” he moaned, his cock twitching once more… thinking about your sweet cut being filled with his cum. “Can't wait to fill you up.”

You moaned at his words, hands lowered to unbutton his shirt so you could see all of him. He knew what you wanted, taking his hands off you so he could help you but not breaking this kiss. The kiss became sloppier as you both focused on getting his shirt off, you could feel his tongue massaging yours roughly and your teeth clashing.

When his shirt was successfully unbuttoned, you attempted to pull it off but it was getting caught on things, frustrating you. You wanted to feel his chest against you, while he fucked you roughly. Daryl pulled away from the kiss, pulling his shirt off for you when he realized how frustrated you were getting. He dropped his shirt to the floor, seeing your kiss bitten lips as you breathed heavily watching him.

It was the first time he actually looked down at you, admiring you for the first time that night. You just looked back at him, eyes scanning over his cut and bruised body. You were shaking with lust, you couldn’t control your body if felt and Daryl just chuckled at how much you craved his body on yours.

“Dirty slut…” he spit out, moving his hands down to the hem of your shirt to pull it up over your head.

He didn’t hesitate to attach his lips to your nipples, you gasped as his warm mouth wrapped around one of them, hands grasping onto the edge of the desk. He licked and sucked at them, even rolling one of them between his fingers. You could cum from just this, the heat of him and his mouth on your sensitive nipples. You tried to muffle your mouths, embarrassed by how needy you had become for Daryl that you didn’t want anyone else to hear.

Daryl noticed your shyness and only sucked on your tits harder, wanting to hear your pretty moans as he fucked you hard and deep. A particular hard pinch made you moan out loudly, back arching up into his mouth. He looked up at you, watching your head thrown back as your pussy clenched around nothing. You needed him so bad that you could beg, you wanted to feel his cock pulsating inside you all the while he fucked your baby into you.

“Please Daryl just fuck me… stop teasing…” you moaned, louder than you wanted too but you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Your cunt had dripped onto the table beneath you and had made a mess out of your favorite panties. Daryl couldn’t deny you when you begged like that, he was so worked up he just couldn’t with the begging. So he did what you wanted him to, he stopped his abuse on your tits and picked you back up in his arms, plopping you down on the bed.

He undid his belt, his hands fumbling with it and then he ripped it off. You watched his every move and he watched you, he watched as you tried to hide your wet pussy away from him simply because you were embarrassed about how wet he made you. He then bent down to capture your lips in a kiss, your already kiss bitten lips trying their best to keep up with his lips.

Daryl set his knee on your aching cunt, allowing you to buck your hips on it, you attempting to dull the ache. He let you occupy yourself with that while he grabbed your hands, pulling them tightly together above your head as he wrapped his belt around them. You were too focused on humping his knee to realize what he was doing, which was exactly his goal… he didn’t have time for you to squirm.

“You know the safe word bunny?” He asked, sitting back down on his knee while he unbuttoned his pants. You whimpered at the loss of friction from his knee, you had quite literally became a whimpering mess and a completely fuck toy for him.

You nodded at his words, it took a minute for you to comprehend his words but you made them out eventually. Your body was hot, your face red and your eyes glassy. You watched as Daryl pulled his pants down his legs, his underwear being the next to go. You struggled against your restraints, the leather of his belt rubbing against your soft skin.

“Daryl??” you breathed out, the words coming off as a whisper. He looked up at you, holding his cock in his hands and pumping it lightly. You watched as he tried to hold back his hips from bucking up into his hand.

“Yeah? Is everything okay? You need me to loosen the belt?” Daryl asked, rapidly questioning you while you squirm underneath him. You shook your head, breath heaving up and down.

“Just…. Don’t hold back please.” You stated, doe eyes boring into Daryl’s.

This made his dick twitch, it felt so unbelievably hard it was starting to hurt now. He sent a smirk down at you, leaning over you once more but this time it was to do exactly what you needed him to do. He peppered you with light kisses, making sure you felt as comfortable as he could make you.

“Oh don’t worry bun… I won’t.” He growled out, continuing his light kisses on you as he ran two fingers down your body. “Gonna fuck you so hard… cum inside you over and over and over again until your tummy is full of me.”

His fingers dragged down to your panties, hooking two fingers underneath the waistband to tear off of you. You shivered as your cunt felt the cold air of the room, your wetness dripping down your legs. His words and his actions had you on edge, knowing with only a few touches from him your come undone. It was strange how only a few touches, kisses, and words from Daryl could have you cumming in minutes.

“Gonna breed you like the slut you are…” Daryl grunted, moving your legs to rest above his shoulders. “God… the things you do to me Y/N!”

Daryl could have stopped at this position, it would definitely have you cumming in only seconds… but Daryl almost completely folded you in half. Your knees were brought down to rest by your ears and your feet by your hands that were tired with only a belt. Daryl watched your face, making sure this position was okay with you. You were too lost in lust to even acknowledge the painful position, so Daryl kept you like that but slowly spread your legs further and further until you were in full display to him.

Daryl brought his cock up to your heart, slowly thrusting his cock along the wetness of it and hitting your bundle of nerves. You gasped as he did this, slowly teasing you with his cock until you could literally not handle it anymore. You were cock starved, you were going to go crazy without it. Daryl smirked at what he was doing to you, he brought his hand down to your mouth.

“Spit” was all he said and you did exactly that.

You let your saliva drop down into his hand and he gladly took it, rubbing it on your cunt along with his cock. He needed all the lube for this position, not wanting to hurt you or make it painful for you. You bit your lip hard, blood being drawn as it slid down your throat.

Daryl lined himself up with you, pushing himself into you until he was fully inside you. You went cross eyes for a minute, moaning as he had already found your sweet spot. Daryl stood there for a minute, letting you take him in and feel every inch of him. He wanted you to know thats what you will be filled up with for the rest of your life, no other cock with fuck you anymore, only him from now until forever. You squirm underneath him causing him to press down on your legs more, bending them until they were resting against your chest.

He moved finally, starting off at an animalistic pace and not even giving you time to breathe before he started abusing your cunt. You couldn’t even help the moans that fell from your lips, they were almost screaming as his dick was quite literally inside your guts. Your hands grabbed for the metal pole of the bed, grabbing into it for support. You grabbed on it for dear life as if it was the only thing keeping you down on this earth.

“Fuck so fucking tight for me, huh, bunny?” He grunted out, hips snapping back and forth violently. “Your pussy was made for me… your pussy was made for me to fuck a baby into.”

His words only made your moans louder, strangled moans coming from deep in your chest. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone thought you were being murdered, walking into your room to only see you folded in half while Daryl abused your cunt. That only added onto the fun though, Daryl would get a power rush from that, knowing that the person that walks In now knows that he’s the only one who can fold you in half like this and you would simply let it happen because you were such a slut for him.

Your cunt clenched around Daryl, he knew that meant you would be cumming soon so he set his hands on your thighs and applied all this weight onto them, lifting himself up using them. This position allowed him to fuck you deep, feeling him deep in your cunt and causing something to just flick deep down in you.

Your back arched into him, your head being thrown back as you screamed. It was too much, his full weight being on top of you and his animalistic pace… it caused you to lose your vision and I not being focused on Daryl grunts. You could see static, light white dots dancing across your eyes as you gripped whatever you could get your hands on. You were fighting against the restraints, rubbing your skin raw.

“Da…i…. Fu… i ca…” you could literally not get a single word out, Daryl knew exactly what you were trying to say though.

“Go ahead bunny, cum on my cock…” he grunted, giving you permission to soak his cock.

The coil down in your belly couldn’t take anymore of it, your toes curled and your hearing went… it was mere seconds before it snapped and your cunt pulsed violently on Daryl’s cock. Your juices came shooting out, soaking Daryl and his cock. This didn’t stop him though, he kept his animalistic pace while fucking you through your orgasm. He was so close himself, his nails digging into the back of your thighs.

“Gonna cum… can’t handle your fucking pussy anymore…” he grunted, his voice coming off in choppy moans.

You were so high, you were somewhere not on this earth as Daryl’s thrusts sped up and became messy. His moans got a bit deeper, grunting as he made one last fast movement than cumming deep inside you. His hips trembled as he came, filling you up to the brim with his cum. He stayed there for a minute, allowing every single drop of cum to fill your insides, he then dropped onto you. His cock still filled you, your legs shook as they slowly dropped beside him.

Daryl trembled on top of you, his skin on your slowly bringing you back to earth. You both laid there, sweaty and sticky. Your hands still above your head, Daryl’s face buried in your neck and his cock nestled deep inside you. You have fucked many times before but it never was this good, it never left you both speechless like this. It felt there were no words to speak, there was nothing to say other than small curses and moans.

It was about 5 minutes you stayed like that, until Daryl pulled himself away from you and pecked you on the lips. He slowly took himself out of you, watching as his cum gushed out of you. He stuck in two fingers, trying to keep it all in but you winced… your abused cunt not able to handle it.

“Sorry…” he stated, reaching over to untie you.

You lowered your arms, shakingly placing them on your stomach. Daryl watched you, feeling as if he needed to take care of your exhausted body. He made you feel good, yes, but he wore you out and he felt bad. He just rubbed your hips softly, watching you blink slowly. You were sore, your hips feeling like they were run over by trucks but you were content. The thought of having a baby rushing your mind.

“You with me bunny?” He asked softly, his voice raspy.

Your eyes trailed to him, his hair tangled and stuck to his sweaty forehead. You smiled, nodding your head weakly. You wonder if these moments will ever stop when you're big and pregnant or when you have a baby in your arms. Will you both be so in love with each other? Will you have small moments where you just stare into each other’s eyes while coming down from your highs? Will sex even be an option?

“You think it worked? I mean did you knock me up?” You joked but genuinely wondered. You didn’t feel any different, will you even feel different when it happened? Daryl dragged his eyes to your core, cum still seeping out of your cunt.

“I mean it should, I filled you up pretty good.” He said, almost proud of himself. No, he was proud of himself. He not only fucked his girlfriend until she literally fell off the face of the earth but he also probably most likely fucked a baby into you.

“Don’t act all smug asshole…” you rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, bending down to peck your lips but you wrapped your arms around him so he had no choice but to stay on your lips. You once again wrapped your legs around Daryl, already ready for another round and Daryl was completely okay with giving you it too. His lips were soft against yours, hands caressing your thighs that were placed delicately on his hips. You should be wore out, you were wore out but Daryl being on top of you like this… watching his face as he came deep inside you… you needed more.

You rutted your hips against Daryl’s, feeling his cock get hard again. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the knots that laid within his brown locks. He pulled away from your lips, looking down at your kiss bitten, red and puffy face.

“Bunny…maybe we should take a break.” He said, moving a hand to move a piece of hair from your eyes. “ I don’t want to completely exhaust you.”

You knitted your brows at him, rolling your eyes as you gave him the dirtiest look. He really thought he would tire you out that much?? You could literally never turn down Daryl’s attempts to make you feel good, like ever. You could be in the softest mood ever and than Daryl shoves his cock down your throat… than suddenly your a dirty whore for him. He had that kind of effect on you, it was inevitable.

“Daryl… this is probably the only time you will ever allow yourself to cum inside me! You think I’m going to stop at one round?” You replied, acting as if he was crazy for thinking something like that. “Plus I want to make sure it works, I want to make sure I’m knocked up by the end of the night.”

“Jesus Christ woman you’ll be the death of me…”

[ravens-two]

PAC: Your First Fight With Your Person

This reading includes:

your first fight with your person

how and why this fight happens

The extended reading includes:

what happens after this fight

how this affects your relationship moving forward

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Light On - Maggie Rogers

"Crying in the bathroom/ Had to figure it out/ With everyone around me saying/ you should be so happy now" 

Moon, Tower, Fool

Pile 1 your first fight with your person seems like it's going to be big one. I actually get the feeling that in this relationship you two don't really fight, even minor and harmless things. This feels like the type of couple that are always like "oh we don't fight we solve all our issues before it comes to that". Sometimes the problem with that is that the communication isn't as good as we think it is and small, but important things go unsaid. 

This really feels like one person really blowing up at the other. There are two different scenarios here: on one this fight happens because one of you tries to start a fight because of some other issue, on the other it feels more like there were little things that one of you tried to dismiss but couldn't thus triggering the fight. 

For the people in the first scenario I think that this fight happens for reasons outside of your relationship. It's going to be different for everyone and for some you might be the one starting the fight, while for others it will be your partner. No matter what the person that starts this fight is going through something very difficult to deal with. This could be problems with work, family, money or mental health. Because this person doesn't really know how to deal with these problems they become combative (in general though not just with their partner) and try to pick fights with other people because they're angry and frustrated. In the end, this is very much an ego thing. For the people in this scenario this fight will affect your relationship not because of what's being discussed, but more because of this person's behavior.

For the second scenario I'm seeing that you're probably going to be the one that starts the fight, but it's because you can't handle the way your person has been treating you anymore. I see a lot of gaslighting here, so it might be that you tried to talk about some issues in the past and your person tried to make you believe that they weren't really issues or that you were unreasonable for wanting to enforce boundaries. I think that you may believe them for a while, but then all of a sudden you get clarity and realize that your person is the one who is actually in the wrong and you kind of blow up on them. You might decide to suddenly confront your person and you won't allow yourself to be gaslight anymore.

In general, the reason for this fight happening seems to be because one or both of you want more freedom. You might feel that your person is controlling or trying to control you and you feel a bit suffocated in the relationship (or the other way around).

No matter the scenario these fights feel very aggressive (not violent though, but there's definitely screaming here). Also with the song that came up for your pile this fight might be particularly hard for you because on the surface this relationship seemed so perfect, but this fight will make you see a whole other side to your person that isn't that great.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 2

Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven?/ will you ever win?"

Four of Pentacles, Death, Queen of Cups

Pile 2, this fight happens because you have become attached to something. It could be that it's caused by one of you having unreasonable expectations of the other or because there's a change that's hard to accept. Like for the previous pile, there are different scenarios here. For some people this fight is going to be about trying to hold on to something that needs to change as I'd already said. This could be a lot of different things. For some of you it may be related to a certain expectation of your partner (or vice-versa) that they can't fulfill. For example, in earlier stages of your relationship you might have had a date night every week, but due to some changes (with schedules for example) your partner can't make it anymore. Even though you know it's not really their fault you're still frustrated with them and the situation and it's what causes this argument. There's a big need here to allow things to change and move forward.

When it comes to a partner having unreasonable expectations it could be related to what I've already said in the sense that it was something that happened before, but now it can't happen for whatever reason. Or it could be that one of you has idealized the other, or simply has certain expectations of the other that can't be fulfilled. Just because it's not realistic for you and your person, and for your circumstances. Again, there's this sense of frustration here at the situation that causes the argument.

For some of you this is related to money. It could be that you're having some money problems and it's straining your relationship. You might disagree with the way your partner spends their money or you might feel that they're not doing enough (no matter if it's actually true or not). For others it's because you feel that your partner is stingy with money or that they don't want to invest in you. This makes you feel as though you're not as important to your partner as you should be. This conflict is caused by that feeling of feeling like you're not considered as priority to your person.

Unlike pile 1 this fight doesn't seem aggressive at all. I actually think that it's going to be quite civil in a way. It's like you're arguing but you're still keeping your voice down and trying to stay calm even if it's hard. Although I do think that this fight is very emotional for both of you and you might need to take some time away from each other to calm down. This might be very triggering for some of you, but you'll both do your best to actually communicate what you're feeling and what has hurt you. I also think that this first fight is going to happen at home, it might be triggered by a conversation that you're having while hanging out.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 3

Heaven is Here - Florence + the Machine

"I went to the water, drank every drop/ I''ll turn your sea to a desert"

Knight of Cups, Nine of Swords, Knight of Wands

Hey pile 3, this is the most clear-cut pile so far. While the two previous piles had various possible scenarios going on, this really feels like it's all about jealousy and insecurity. It's always going to be different for everyone of course, but I feel like here the problem is that your person did/does something that makes you feel insecure in the relationship. It may be that they have an habit of flirting with everyone, or it could be something completely harmless and unintentional. For some of you it happens because you may have been going through a rougher moment when it comes to your self-esteem and you may think that your partner isn't interested in you anymore. It could be that they make a comment about how nice or good-looking someone is and you take it as them being interested in that person.

For some this happens because your partner used to be a playboy/playgirl and you feel like they'll eventually just want to go back to their old ways and that you'll never be good enough for them. For a smaller part of you I feel like the jealousy is warranted because your partner might really be toeing the line of cheating and staying faithful.

The common thread here though, is that a certain action from your partner makes you jealous and makes you feel insecure (in yourself and your relationship). This really is the big reason for this fight. As to how it happens I think that this isn't immediate. I feel like you'll stew in these feelings for a bit - trying to ignore these feelings and just progessively feeling worse. I really think that this situation will make you feel really anxious and probably it might mess with your self-esteem too. Then, I feel that for most of you your partner will try asking what's wrong, trying to understand what happened, but you keep shutting them down until eventually you decide to let it all out.

The argument itself feels like it's going to be very emotional for you - I see some of you crying - but not so much for your partner. Most of them won't really understand where this is coming from and they're more caught off guard than anything else. For most of you I also think that this is going to happen while you're in the car. It may happen somewhere else of course, but I really get this feeling of being a confined space where you can't get away from your person.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 4

Someone New - Hozier

"Cause God knows I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit/ Every day with someone new"

World, Knight of Pentacles, High Priestess

Pile 4 this honestly feels like the tamest fight out of all of the piles. This honestly has such a lighthearted vibe that it almost feels like you're in the middle of arguing and your person will say like "I can't believe you'd do such a thing" in a really dramatic way and you'll burst out laughing. Like it really feels like your fight almost happens in waves, like first you're sad or frustrated and you're telling them as much and the next you're laughing and the tension has dissipated. 

I also feel that this argument might happen over the phone. The people in this pile might be in a long distance relationship or you or your person might have travelled when this fight happens. So, this will probably happen while you're FaceTiming or something like that. I also see the video or image freezing and that making you guys frustrated but at the same time it makes it funnier, because one you will be like "we can't even argue in peace" or smt like that. It seems that you two have a really good sense of humor.

Honestly I don't think that there's any really strong reason for this fight, or it will be something that's completely different for everyone. Some possibilities that I see is that you're missing your person (or vice-versa) and you're frustrated at the distance and maybe the reason why you're distant in the first place. You might also argue about one of you working too much and not having enough time to spend together. For some of you I think that you'll argue just because you're a bit bored and you want to spice things up. For others it's just because you want to make your person mad so that they will take it out on you 😏

In general though, this fight doesn't really seem serious. It's like you both know that this doesn't change anything and if there really was a problem you would talk about it in a more mature way. Again, I think that you two have a really good sense of humor and that really helps too.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

[chrispleasure]

summary: maggie interupts matt and ready getting intimate!

warnings: fluff, smut, sex !

not proofread

this was requested my an anon !

the noise of the heardboard banging against the wall is heard throughout the room, whiny moans coming out of your mouth. every time matt thrusts deeper the bed squeaks from the matress moving so much.

“mm’ baby, harder..” you moan, hands gripping his shoulders as his eyes gaze down at yours. “going as fast as you can take.” matt replies, his voice shaky from how close he is.

lustful moans escape your lips, the sounds of slapping from him pounding into you causing you to squirm. “im so close, please baby..” matt whimpers, continuing to thrust into you as you like. “just a little longer.” you reply.

matt freezes, his head snapping to look towards the baby monitor on the bedside table. “daddy? where are you?” maggie cries, her cries being picked up on the baby monitor.

he glances down at you, “could you go? i need to release.” matt asks, moving off of you to lay down on the sheets. you nod, pushing yourself up. you put on a pair of underwear, followed by a sweater.

you climb out of bed and make your way to the kids room down the hall. your eyes are met with the sight of maggie crying, and milo sleeping across the room in his bed peacefully.

“where’s daddy?” maggie sniffles, standing by the edge of the crib. you didn’t know what to say, so you make up something. “he went to go pee, mags.” you mumble, picking her up. “i dont want you! i want daddy.” maggie began to throw a tantrum, kicking her legs.

you put her down, “okay, wait right here.” you reply, walking out of the room. you walk down to the masterbedroom, peeking your head through the door. your eyes are met with the sight of matt getting dressed, the bedsheets changed.

his eyes meet yours, a smile on his lips. “did you sort her out?” he asks, walking over. “she want’s you, not me.” you sigh, rubbing your face. you had been stressed lately, so this made you feel worse.

“okay, no big deal. ill go see her now. dont stress ‘bout it.” matt replies, pressing a kiss to your forehead before making his way to the kids bedroom.

“daddy?” maggie cries, seeing matt’s figure in the doorway. “w’as wrong, mags?” he asks, fingers tapping against the crib. “i want you.” she frowns. “stay here till i fall asleep, p’ease? i scared.” maggie continued, laying down.

matt tucks maggie into sheets and turns on her night light. “nothing to be scared about, see?” he glances around the bedroom. “ill stay until you fall asleep though.” he continues, sitting down in the armchair beside her crib.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 ꨄ: it has come to my attention that i apparently ‘copied’ or ‘stole’ somebodys work. which i didn’t, i gave credits and still, it wasn’t enough. no one owns the idea that i happened to write about. for example, no ones getting upset about everyone doing ‘text messages ___ would send you’ since it’s been a trend for so long so i dont see how it’s a problem. and i will be doing it again because i like the idea. and i dont mind if people also use the idea, because im not mean. not starting anything, just expect that if your gonna write on this app people are going to like your ideas and use them whether you like it or not ❤️

taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re @matthewsroses

[deansapplepie]

Can’t promise ya that Sweetheart

Daryl x f!Reader | Established relationship | pos savior war | Dad Daryl | little fluff

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating (not Daryl, of course), memory loss, Negan, a little bit of violence, mentions of death, killing threat, a little part of blood, pregnancy, mentions of birth, mentions of torturing, mentions of cancer. (If I forgot anything tell me) Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: This is a small story based on this dream that I had in the end of the last year. Finally decided to write something about it.

It didn’t go exactly what I had planned because of the dream, but here it is. Also, I wanted it to be a small drabble, but I turned it into a big one-shot.

Another thing is… Daryl and Reader have a 6 year old son, but in no moment I wrote his name in the history. I received a critique about reader’s son in The Spitting Image, so I’m still deciding if I’ll continue with DJ in my Dad Daryl fics, or if it will be only for The Spitting Image and I’m coming up with another name in my other fics. Just to make it clear, I have no intention in changing DJ’s name in The Spitting Image.

When the Greenes found you, the world had already ended. In one of Otis’ hunting leaves he encountered you, all bloody, your hair a mess of dried blood and dirty. At first he thought you were dead, but then you let a small cry and he checked your vital signs confirming you were indeed alive. That day he didn’t go back to the farm with good meat, he took you in his arms and arrived at the house urging for help.

The moment you woke up, your mind was blank. There was nothing there. No memories. At least, you still had the ability of speaking, reading and writing, besides that, not a thing. You didn’t even remember your own name. You didn’t remember the world before dead people started walking. Some people said you were lucky, because you couldn’t miss something you didn’t remember, but most of the times it was frustrating not knowing about who you were.

Without a name or a history, the Greenes soon adopted you, giving you the name Y/N, because they said it suited you and their last name. You liked how Y/N Greene sounded, and you liked the people that took you in and soon made you love them and be part of the family. Everyday was a new day to discover what you liked or disliked, to learn something new and learn who you were.

The group from Atlanta came, and with them also came a lot of trouble and a certain mysterious hunter that refused to leave your thoughts. He didn’t even looked at you, why were you dreaming about him? Little did you know you never left his thoughts too, and that was incredibly annoying. The farm burned down and all of you lost your safe place. You took the road, then you arrived at the prison and with the months passing you grew closer and closer to Daryl Dixon, but you were only friends. Until… after the people from Woodbury joined you and an event brought you two together.

And that was how you ended up like this, married to him, a 6 year old son and one more baby on the way. Now you lived in Alexandria a community that gave you a home again, a small sense of normalcy and where your strange family only grew. You had all been through a lot already… the prison fell, you were almost eaten by cannibals and you had survived a war against a group called The Saviors, which leader Negan killed many of your friends and broke and destroyed your husband. The first time you listened to the name of the worst person you heard of it made you feel something strange, just like if your guts were being pulled by an invisible hand, but you couldn’t tell why. Maybe it was just because he was a sick son of a bitch.

He killed Glenn which was like your brother in law as you and Maggie had become instantly sisters. He killed Abraham the gigantic ginger of a big heart and a mouth dirtier than a sailor’s. And his worst crime, in your heart, was what he made Daryl go through. He tortured, humiliated and broke piece by piece of the man you loved, and that you couldn’t forgive. You never got to see him. That sounds strange, but every time he showed up you wasn’t in Alexandria, the missions everybody went you couldn’t go because of your enormous belly that had the biggest baby you had ever saw, damn Daryl and his genes, that baby was hard to push - but yet here you were carrying another one. In the final battle you had your baby Dixon in your arms, so you never got to see the man. Even after Rick almost killed him, but in the last seconds asked Siddiq to save him.

You never had to see the man you despised and hated so much, until now that you were walking on Alexandria streets going to get his food and deliver it to him. You managed to keep the distance from him the past 6 years and nobody ever asked you to do a thing for him. Maybe because he brought back the memories of what he did to Daryl, or maybe because you agreed and supported Maggie about killing him. But now, you were making a favor to Gabriel, Michonne wasn’t in town and Rosita needed him. So why not? It couldn’t be so difficult, you repeated the steps on your head: handcuff him, open the cell, put the tray on the floor, close the cell and release him. After that you just needed to leave and never look at him again, at least you hoped so.

When you entered the dark room only illuminated by the daily light that came from the small window, it sent chills through all your body and you felt your “little pear” get agitated in your belly. ‘Lil pear’ was the nickname Daryl gave the baby you had in your belly, because he was pretty sure that it was a girl this time. You didn’t have an opinion about it, but you knew he would be happy if it was a sweet little girl like his ‘lil ass kicker’. You put the tray on a chair and before catching the handcuff on your pocket, you caressed your already big belly to assure your baby that nothing bad would happen.

“Never thought you’d ever come to visit me.” You heard his voice and once again it was like someone was pulling your guts.

“Believe me, I tried to come for a deadly visit, but I wasn’t allowed to.” You replied, handcuffs already in your hands. “Hands outside the bars.”

“I know you hate me, but you wouldn’t dare to kill me.” He put both hands outside the cage so you could handcuff him.

“Don’t tempt me Negan, or I may take the offer.” You handcuffed him and now took the key to open the cell.

“You really enjoyed fucking Dixon, didn’t you?” People were right he knew so damn well how to make anyone lose their temper. “A precious sweet little boy the one you have.” You had opened the door.

“Never!” You kicked the side of his leg on the height of the knee, earning a grunt in pain from him. “Never talk about my child again! Don’t even look at him!”

“This isn’t how I raised you sweetie… but I’m glad you can take care of yourself in this world.” You went outside the cage to take the tray of food. “But this isn’t the way you should treat your father.”

You gave him an annoyed look. “My father is Hershel Greene, and he’s dead. So, no way a scumbag like you is my father.” Fuck, remembering Hershel made tears surface in your eyes. Damn, fucking hormones.

You lowered the maximum you could to put the tray on the floor and made a mental note to tell Gabriel you’d never help him in such activities again till the end of your pregnancy. He didn’t know how fucked up it was to squat in that situation.

“Your name isn’t Y/N. Your maiden name was Smith. You have a mole in your back, close to your shoulder. You got a scar on your left knee after you fell from your bike, you were 8…” he said and that stroke you in a way you couldn’t explain. Yes, you had a mole. Yes, you had this scar that you didn’t know how you got since you had no memories from your past. You left his cell and closed the door. “Guess, you aren’t Daddy’s pretty princess anymore…”

At that moment the unthinkable happened, a storm of memories hit you running through your mind and you had to hold yourself on the bars, or you could swear you’d fall. Your childhood. Your teens. Memories of an old life you didn’t had anymore, and the day you caught your dad cheating on your stepmom, the reason why you left them not looking back, because you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her and break her heart, but you also couldn’t look at your father’s face and don’t feel anger. A wave of anger that contained all the last years and now also your memories from the past hit you, and when you realized it, you were with your hands on his collar yanking him towards the bars, his face impossibly close to it.

“What did you do to Lucille?” You yelled at him, from all the things you could have asked or yelled at him, he wasn’t expecting this. “What happened to her?! You gave her name to a fucking bat!”

“I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking. Jesus… I couldn’t even kill her turned self.” He confessed. “She had cancer. She discovered it a little after you left… she was still in treatment when the outbreak happened.” And then he told you the short story of what happened and you blamed yourself for not being there for her, she was like a mom to you and you ran away just because you couldn’t tell her your dad was a cheater, but now he was worse, he was a psycho.

You released his hands from the handcuff and stored it on your pocket again. “I’m asking Gabriel to take the tray.” You said, you didn’t even need to tell him anything, but you didn’t know why you said.

“Can you bring the boy to meet me?” He had the audacity to ask. You snorted.

“If it depends on me, he’ll never meet you. You killed my friends, my brother… you tortured my husband, and that sweet little boy had a complicated birth because of what you inflicted in all of us, and do you think you have any right of meeting him?” He could see the tears in your eyes threatening to fall, and his heart clenched just like when you were little and would cry because you were hurt. But you’d not let it happen in front of him. You’d not cry. “If you had remained you, if you hadn’t caused so much pain, this would be a completely different reencounter.”

Once you finished talking you left the small little prison and when you turned to go up the stairs, you saw Daryl up the stairs, the look in his eyes indicating worry. He was probably looking for you, and someone probably said where you were. He saw in your eyes that you were in the verge of crying, you went up the stairs and once in front of him, you urged him to leave the place, you didn’t want him to see you crying.

You entered home, hand in hand and he took you to the sofa, sitting there with you. He put one arm on your shoulders and brought you to rest your head against his chest. “What did he tell you?” He asked and you were sure he was already thinking of a way of destroying the prisoner.

“I… I remember everything, Daryl.” You said, and the tears that you had been holding just fell down. “Negan’s my father.”

He didn’t look surprised, because he wasn’t. He knew it. For years already. Being married with the archer for so many years, made you a little observant like him and in that moment you knew there was something wrong.

“You’re not surprised.” You said, it was an affirmation, not a question. “Did you know?”

He took a deep breath, his hand on your head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how was your past with him. I was afraid it was so messed up that you would break if you got your memories back.”

“Did you never doubt my loyalty after you discovered it?” That was a difficult question, that you were not sure if you were prepared to listen to his answer. You weren’t mad at him, you kneel him and you knew he had no bad intentions on hiding it from you and to be honest, deep down you wished Gabriel had never sent you there.

“Wouldn’t have put another baby in ya if I did.” He didn’t want to be coarse, that was just the way he was and when he said that you knew he’d never doubt you. “I’ve been with ya for years, wouldn’t ever doubt you.”

“How did you discover it?” You wrapped your arms around his torso.

Some days after Negan was taken to his cell in Alexandria, he saw something through the small window that he didn’t expected. You. His daughter that had given her back to him many years ago. When the world ended, Lucille had told him to go and look for you, but he couldn’t do that, he needed to take care of her. Months passed and you never showed up at home, he thought you would try to get home if the apocalypse happened, so he just assumed you were dead. He saw you with Daryl and a cute baby in your arms, and that’s how he discovered you were the pregnant wife he had and everyone talked about, but he never got to meet. Also, you were going by a different name. He’d never think it was you. He was a monster, but he was a father, and he was so glad you were alive and well… but he also knew you probably hated him more than anything. Next time Rick visited him, he talked to him and asked to see you. Of course the ex-sheriff didn’t tell you, he told Daryl and that day the hunter had a ‘nice’ conversation with the ex Savior.

“Ya’re not telling her anything, ya aren’t even going ta look at’er or ma son.” He didn’t want to be controlling, abusive or anything of it, but he knew you were better not knowing it. It would destroy you if you knew you were related to a monster. “If ya try anything, a single little thing, I’m gonna kill ya and feed you to the walkers.”

He listened to Daryl, for long 6 years, but he didn’t have many options since he was in his cell all the time and you never came close to it. Everything organized for you to not do so, Rick, Michonne and Carol knew, all of the three knew and would make everything so you didn’t need to have contact with Negan, that’s until the day you decided to do a favor for Gabriel.

“He wasn’t a bad father.” You said when your husband finished telling you what happened. “To be honest, I have mostly good memories of him. A year before the outbreak, or so, I caught him cheating on my stepmom. I ran away, because I didn’t have the courage to tell her and I was so angry at him. I was dramatic and childish.”

“Nah, you weren’t. That was how ya felt, and it’s ok.” He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you in his arms.

“Do you think it would have made any difference if I had stayed?”

“I dunno. There’s no way to know. But one thing I know, we wouldn’t have met, and we wouldn’t have our precious lil boy or our lil pear on the way.” He caressed your belly while talking and he was right… things happened how they were supposed to happen and there was no way you could know if anything would have been different.

Soon the door opened and your little ray of sunshine came running directly to the living room and hugging you and his ‘little sis’, like he was now calling the baby. You thought it was because Daryl would say all the time it was a girl, but he would always say it wasn’t. ‘Kids know these things, they can feel’, he would say.

“Momma, how was your day? Did my lil sis kick a lit today?” He asked with his little face leaning on your stomack and his big blue eyes shining.

“My day was wonderful baby. Little pear kicked just a little today.” You said, your hand on top of your head. “How was school? Who brought you?”

“It was good. Jude brought me.” He said and then he looked at Daryl. “Daddy, you forgot me.”

“I’m sorry little man.” He sat his son on his lap. “Momma needed ma help.”

When he heard you had been sent to take food to Negan, he forgot about everything and ran to get to you. He was so afraid of what could happen that he forgot to take the kids. It was safe, it was inside Alexandria, but either way he needed to be there, to teach your son could only trust you, he shouldn’t go with anybody to anywhere, unless it was people you really trusted.

“Why don’t you go up, put away your things and wait momma to take your bath?” Daryl told the little boy and he went immediately upstairs.

Daryl got up and headed to the hall, you followed him and saw he was ready to leave.

“Where are you going?” You asked, clueless, you had just arrived home and your kid was back.

“Gonna have a talk with Negan.” He said. He was so good at comforting you that you didn’t notice he was boiling in anger. He had told him to not say a thing and he just opened his big mouth!

“Babe, he’s an asshole. We already know it, just let him be. I guess I made everything clear to him.” You tried to soothe him, both your hands enveloping his face.

“I gave him a warning, and still he made ya cry.” He delicately took your hands from his face and walked to the door.

“Daryl, please… don’t kill him.” You had confused feelings, you hated Negan for so many reasons and now at the same time remembering he was your father…

“Can’t promise ya that, sweetheart.” He opened the door and left.

You didn’t know if you believed in God anymore, but in that moment you prayed to whatever force there were that Daryl could calm down and also that none of this mess harm your son and your unborn baby.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[leonsgotit]

OKAY SO. THE CONVERSATION NINA AND MAGGIE HAVE WITH CROWLEY RIGHT AT THE END OF EPISODE 6. I HAVE THOUGHTS.

(idk if someone has already said this but i was thinking about it so i’m gonna say it)

so. we’ve established that nina and aziraphale are narrative parallels for one another, as are maggie and crowley (i.e., “you were crying, and nina needed rescuing” “rescuing me makes him [crowley] so happy”) and so, when nina is talking about her own failed relationship and subsequent relationship with maggie, we can infer that this is also neil cleverly telling us about aziraphale and crowley’s relationship.

nina says, “my relationship just ended, i’m not ready to be in another one. i’d be a rebound mess, i can’t start seeing maggie.” relating this to aziraphale—in the grand scheme of things, aziraphale’s “relationship” with heaven has really just ended (he was a loyal servant of heaven for 6000 years, and he’s only been on his own (with crowley of course) for a few years, tops). he isn’t ready to be in another relationship yet, even if aziraphale knows deep down he wants to be with crowley, he just isn’t at a point yet where he is ready to do so.

nina continues, “when i’m ready, i hope, she’ll [maggie] be there, but there isn’t any guarantee” and maggie says, “there is.”

i think that those two lines are neil’s way of letting us, the audience, know that crowley will wait for aziraphale. he’ll be there when aziraphale realizes he wants to be with crowley, without heaven getting in the way. he’ll be there waiting for aziraphale because he’s already waited 6000 years, he can wait a little longer for his angel.

idk if this made any sense whatsoever but it was just some thoughts i had while rewatching s2. :)

[taylormarieee]

~Blowing off steam~

Summary: You and Daryl have been dating for a while now. You guys are on the road looking for supplies and you guys got into a fight before the trip. You both get into an argument again but this time it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 1.7k

Genre: Angst- Pure Smut

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Breeding kink, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Daryl and reader fighting, established relationship, reader is a little insecure, Angry Sex, Dom/Sub dynamics, predator/prey dynamic, degrading, orgasm denial, oral (F), fingering, squirting, creampie

A/N: This was a request by @murdadixon girl I'm sorry this took so long! Love you💋!

You are dating the hottest man you personally have ever seen. Daryl Dixon. He is such a softie.

To most people he is big and mean and intimidating but what they don't know is when he is with you, oh god he is such a big softie. A big cute teddy bear!

You guys hardly ever get into any arguments and if you do it's over tiny, stupid petty stuff. So you never thought that your big, lovable teddy bear would be this angry at you today. Let alone get into a fight on this fine morning.

"Ya never listen! Yer hard headed! All ya ever talk about is yer self!" Daryl yells at you.

"Well you are always closed off! What do you want me to do, huh!? Talk about your goddamn favourite color? Oh wait, you never told me!" You say venomously with a frown on your face.

"Daryl you realize you never tell me anything? You never fucking talk to me! So I talk about myself instead! Your always silent so I assume you wanna hear me speak! You never tell me to shut up!" You yell getting angrier by the second.

You will admit it, you and Daryl are not the same. Complete opposites actually. He was closed off, introverted. He always strayed away from the group to be alone.

Whilst you chose to be open, extroverted. You loved pleasing people. And sometimes you thought if Daryl hated that about you.

Sometimes boys mistook your kindness for flirting and Daryl would always yell at you about it so maybe that's what this arguments about.

"Yer so dumb! Maybe you should start learnin to shut the hell up!" He yells walking away leaving you standing there.

You instantly break down into tears and cry in your room. You run to the one person you bond with the most and has a husband. Maggie.

"M-maggie" You say your voice breaking as you continue to cry.

"Oh my god. What is it hun? Who hurt ya? What happened?" Maggie asks worried.

"It's d-daryl we got in a fight and Idk what to do. he said that i never listen to him or in general. He also said that I should just learn to shut up. Am I too much for you guys? Am I not good enough for him?" You ssk heartbroken.

"God no! You are the best friend I could ever have! You are nothing but joy in this dark world! You are a reminder of beth. I see her in you everyday." Maggie says smiling.

" Daryl is just being a dick! Leave him be but he's going on a run right now if you wanna make up with him?" Maggie says.

"Ok thanks Maggie again! I can always count on you to make me feel better!" You say waving as you walk away.

You see Daryl on his bike and hop on right behind him.

He grunts and asks what your doing. You don't respond to him and just look at your fingers and wait for him to drive off. He scoffs and eventually starts the bike and rides off.

You hold on to him and put your chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." You say.

"Fer what?" He asks. "Being a people pleaser and being so loud and talkative. I won't talk anymore if that's what you want." You say sadly.

"Ya think that's what I want?" Daryl asks

"Well no shit! You literally yelled at me about being to talkative and how I need to shut the hell up, or does none of that ring a bell? You hurt my feelings Dar" You say sadly.

"Well I mean, maybe you should just listen and maybe I wouldn't have yelled at ya."

"Are you fucking serious?! Stop the bike." You say about ready to walk back to Alexandria.

"I SAID STOP THE BIKE!" You yell a lot louder.

He stops the bike and you get off, pacing back and forth to try and control your anger. Boy Dixon really knew how to push your buttons.

"Are you serious Dar? I'm apologizing and you have the audacity to sit here and do this shit again!?"

He just stands there staring at your hips and the way they sway when you walk.

"Daryl Are you even listening?! But then you wanna yell at me about not listening. Huh very original Daryl."

Daryl still doesn't say anything and just walks closer to you.

"Boy! You really know how to get on my ner-" You start

"Shut up." Daryl says in a low voice getting closer to you.

"Dar what the hell your scaring me a bit." You say backing up from him.

He looks at you with hunger and lust and anger. A mix you have never seen before. You kinda like it but your also scared. He's like an animal hunting down his prey.

He grabs you and pushes his lips against yours. You try to push him away as your angry your conversation isn't over. You give in as he pins you to a tree.

He rips your flannel of and then rips your shirt off. He tears the shirt off your body and now your favourite white tee is ruined, Oh well. You take off his vest and start unbuttoning his long sleeved shirt.

You slide it off his strong shoulders and run your warm hands down his back, clawing at his back leaving scratches. He picks you up from your thigh and slips your panties off.

Pretty black lace panties. He stares at the in his hand before putting them in his jeans pocket. He rips his pants and boxers off revealing his raging, hard cock aching to be inside you.

"Yer ready for me sunshine?" He asks, poking the tip at your entrance. You nod eagerly whimpering for him to slide inside you. "Yes please Dar. I want you so bad." You whine.

"Nuh uh darlin, Yer not getting anything right now. I'm gon have to tease ya a bit for your little attitude." He says smiling trying to catch you off guard.

"Uh why Dar you were the one who called me du-" You try to finish before he slams his cock inside your tight, velvety walls. You scream out in pleasure as he rams into you at a hard and fast pace, his rhythm never faltering.

You cover your mouth to make sure no nearby walkers could hear you. "Nuh uh pretty girl, I wanna hear those sounds coming from that bratty little mouth as I fuck the shit outta ya.' He grunts.

You remove your hand as tears start to fall from your face. "Please go slower Dar." You whine out.

"Sorry, can't do tha'. Gonna fuck that attitude right outta ya." He moans out. You both are panting extremely hard. His thrusts push your back against. the bark of the tree. You dig your nails into his back moaning louder.

Daryl grunts and starts letting out breathy moans and whines. "Wanna breed ya so bad." Daryl grunts out. "Want ya to be mine. Have my children." He says, his mind getting foggy by he thoughts of you having his child.

You whine out, turned on even more by daryl's dirty words. "This what we was arguin for? So I could fuck ya like the lil slut you are?" He states.

You whine, "Oh f-fuck Dar. Oh shit, fuck I'm gonna cum Daryl"

"Nuh uh, sunshine yer on punishment. Hold it." Daryl grunts out stopping his movements. You cry out as the feeling. of your orgasm is slowly fading away.

"Ya understand? If ya cum without my permission, I'm not gon be so nice after." daryl warns clenching his jaw.

You nod your head and his movements are fast and fluid like the last time. His thrusts are more erratic as he feels his orgasm approaching. You continue to cry as your trying you best to hold your orgasm.

"Daryl can I please cum now?" You whine out seeking his approval. "Yea sunshine, go ahead." he says breathlessly. "Squirt for me baby." He says dark and seductively.

"Oh fuck. fuck, Im cumming Daryl!" You scream out with not a care in the world about who or what hears.

Daryl pulls out and sucks on your clit brining you to your orgasm faster. You start shaking involuntarily and squirt all over daryls face and in his mouth. He laps up your juices with his tongue and groans into your body.

He fingers you through your orgasm as you pull his face closer to your legs. He brings you down to the grassy floor and pulls out his fingers and removes his face shoving his aching cock back inside you.

His thrusts are never ending it feels like. He groans and moans, his little noises so sweet and adorable. God you love hearing him whimper. It truly is the hottest thing in the world. "Fuck baby, I'm gon cum right inside his tight pussy. Give you a baby right 'ere." He moans out, pushing down on your stomach.

You moan out feeling his cock slide in and out of you. He whimpers one more time before drawing out a long, drawled, "Fuuucckkkk!" Daryl drawls out you kiss his neck as he releases inside you.

His warm, sticky, white cum squirts ropes inside you. You feel the warm fluid release inside you. His thrusts are slow and loving this time as he tries to ride out his high.

He pulls out of you and starts to grab you guys clothes. Once you both are dressed you walk back to his bike. Before Daryl could mount his bike, your lightly grabbing his arm.

He turned to look at you.

"Dar, can you look at me? You're doing it again. Look, I'm sor-" He interrupts you.

"No, I'm sorry. I know yer sensitive and I shouldn't have said those things to ya. I'm sorry I didn't care bout' yer feelings. I was just so angry. So I'm sorry sunshine." He says looking down.

You hug him and kiss his neck. He wraps his hands around your waist and hugs you tightly.

The drive back to Alexandria was eventful. Daryl actually opened up and talked about himself.

When you arrived Maggie was standing there by the gate. you hopped off the bike and were on your way to go see Rosita. Maggie threw a thumbs up from afar and you smiled and did one back too.

She smiled and winked at you. You all went your separate ways and lived happily in Alexandria.

Taglist: @darylscvmdumpster @murdadixon @carlgrimesenthusiast @carlsdarling @sinsandsweetness @tied-in-a-knot @loveforcarl

[variousqueerthings]

something very aromantic coded in s2 of good omens is that crowley and aziraphale canonically take their cues of what a certain kind of relationship ought to look like from books and films. firstly, very relatable, I did much the same thing throughout my teens (and in some ways still do although I'm not trying to make myself "fit" by taking cues that I've been studying to be the correct way to do a relationship, I just enjoy performing them in the same way all life is performance when you're not-doing-body-and-relationship-to-other-bodies correctly inherently)

secondly, how it plays out in them messing unintentionally with nina and maggie. they don't understand the structure of nina's and maggie's whole thing as it applies to the reality of relationship structures in the world they're in; that nina is initially in a romantic relationship and wouldn't just jump from it -- no matter how bad -- straight into another one that was presented as "more" correct. because of course standing under an awning or dancing at a ball makes people "fall in love" (whatever that is) because... well, that's how it happens in the stories all the time, that's what these sorts of relationships are all about, "one fabulous kiss and we're good" -- it's a shock to crowley that he misread all the cues "you were crying and she was..." isn't that what this romance thing is that humans are always talking about????

thirdly it of course eventually circles around to be about what in the world their relationship is, but when they're trying to figure out what's going on between the two of them, there aren't any words that can neatly sum it up beyond "us" -- whatever it is, it's "us" against "them" (although aziraphale isn't quite ready for that) -- the them being heaven and hell of course, but to be honest, from an aro perspective, the "them" takes on certain human connotations to me as well, because it's all about how these two don't fit into structures and are punished for this not-fitting-in, and while they're not punished by the humans around them, they also aren't... human. they still operate somewhat from the outside of everyone else, even though aziraphale manages throughout history to create a fair few connections from the sounds of things

similarly to how they do it to nina and maggie, they try on these tropes with one another: aziraphale invites crowley to dance, crowley kisses aziraphale, and it doesn't fit quite right (the first because crowley is concerned with all the demons outside and so isn't paying as much attention to the dancing part of the whole thing, and the second because [insert another bunch of analysis here that's its own post]), but they've already been us the whole time. their attempts at explaining using alloromantic shorthand fall short, because they're hampered by needing to define themselves and their relationship with terminology that's suitably correct for whatever dominant structures they're in

fourthly, the fact that their cues for what their relationship needs to be shouldn't even really be coming from movies/books and humanity in the first place, it should be coming from gabriel and beelzebub. gabriel and beelzebub don't even try all of that "this is what romance is," they don't call one another romantic or kiss or even say words like partner, they're not interested in doing human-based customs or "fitting in." their language for one another is based around that song, and that's as much defining as it needs. whatever aziraphale and crowley are to one another is equally all their own thing, but aziraphale and crowley struggle with definitions constantly. they don't fit into heaven, they don't fit into hell, and humanity -- while more the place they've adopted for all its wild wonders -- isn't quite right either, because they're still being put in a box

it was fun to look out for as I was rewatching, because the way they interacted with alloromanticism really did read like two people who have exactly zero idea of how this applies irl, but that's okay, the fiction's got it handled, all they have to do is copy-paste = result, but then the stuff that actually is the romance in those texts becomes a series of contextless tropes, kind of like how amatonormativity often has those exact same tropes recycled in story after story that can't figure out why it worked the first time but not the next hundred times, except in this story it's on purpose. one fabulous kiss did not in fact solve things at all (nor was it fabulous)

[lunajay33]

Blooming🌼

Summary: You’ve been in the group since the start and have always liked Carl but once you see Enid moving into your territory you get jealous

•Masterlist•

You grew close to Carl at the prison, you were both the same age so it was easy to get along, you were there for him when his mom died and when the prison fell you were scared you’d never see him again but when Carol found you and helped you survive she found the other leading to you seeing Carl again when you Tyrese and Judith coming out of the cabin

He hugged Judith tight then came over and squeezed me so tight as I did the same, hearing his quiet cry’s

You were there for eachother on the road and always shared body heat at night to keep warm and now you were all in Alexandria and even though you were all in the same house it felt like Carl was slipping away from you

You were walking to the gardens with Maggie when you saw Carl and this girl Enid kissing, and it felt like your heart was being crushed, you quickly looked away and Maggie noticed

She’d grown to be like a sister to you and she could tell when something was wrong

“You okay?” She asked

“I’m fine” you lied as you finally got to the garden

“I can tell when you’re not…..is it about Carl?” She asked making you look at her shocked

“How did you know?”

“Come on y/n I know you, I’ve seen the way you act around Carl since you both were little at the farm, and now you’re both grown up and you still treat him like the center of your universe, everyone sees it”

You sighed knowing you couldn’t hide it anymore

“It hurts Maggie, I thought he liked me back, I mean maybe he just sees me as a best friend but I was just holding onto hope that maybe he felt something more……and now he’s with her and it just hurts so much” you cried finally feeling everything you’ve been bottling up to yourself

“Oh sweetie I’m sorry” she said as she sat beside you and wrapped her arms around you

“He doesn’t even hang out with me anymore he’s always with her, he’s pushed me away and I feel so lonely” you said into her chest as she held you tight

“It’ll be okay, you have all of us but I know you have a different hurt, it’s your first heartbreak sweetie but you know I’m always here” she said holding you back so she could see you and wiping your tears

“I know I just hate feeling like this, I just miss him so much”

Maggie obviously told Glenn and the others because you were all one big family so when you entered the house later that evening you saw the sad look some people gave you as your face was puffy and red from crying so much

“Ya alright?” Daryl asked from beside you

“I don’t know”

“He’s stupid fer not wanting ya” he said trying to sooth you in his own way

“Thanks Daryl” you smiled at him weakly

“It’ll be alright kid” he said before walking to his spot in the living room where he slept

You went and laid on the book corner ledge by the window, a lot of you slept in the living room still needing that reassurance, you turned and looked out the window seeing Carl walking up the porch

“What are you doing out so late?” Rick asked as he was at the kitchen island

“Just had to finish some things” he said looking over at you as you were all watching the interaction

Everyone went to sleep and you couldn’t close your eyes without seeing them kissing then you felt someone poking you, you rolled over and it was Carl standing above you

“Hey can I talk to you?” He whispered as you nodded and he sat next to you as you also sat up

“I know you saw me and Enid kiss earlier, I’m sorry”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Cause I know how you took it, I didn’t really wanna kiss her, she kinda just kissed me and I didn’t know what to do”

“Do you like her?” You knew some people were listening it wasn’t hard to tell when they kept moving around

“Not like that, not like how I like you” he said as he held your hand, your heart was pumping so hard

“And how do you like me?” You asked nervous

“I don’t like you, I love you, of course I love you”

“Really? You love me”

“I’ve always wanted you, when I first saw you I knew you were it for me, even with all this chaos going on”

“I love you too Carl” you smiled as he pulled you into a hug

He leaned back and looked at you lips

“Can I?”

“Please” you whined having waited for this for so long

He leaned in and it was the sweetest kiss as he held you closer and the kiss deepened

“You’re my everything Carl” you said when he pulled back

“And you’re mine” that night you held eachother close as you fell asleep in his arms

He was finally yours