#almost called you my wife in front of my parents last night

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

[jarofstyles]

One More Night of Freedom

.... hey.... So this is another piece of filth! Stripper!Y/N and Bachelor Party!H with his one night of freedom. I hope you enjoy love bugs!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 150+ exclusive writings!

Warnings- infidelity (H cheating WITH Y/N), stripping, dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint, slight anal play. We don't condone cheating irl thanks

WC- 4.6k

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Harry knew it was wrong. So wrong, so against every normal moral compass he usually held, but there was something about the woman in front of him that enchanted him. Made him second guess everything.

It was his bachelor party and his mates had encouraged him- forced him, really- to go to the back room to get a private dance from the one he’d been eyeing up all night. It was hard not to, with her creamy smooth skin, breasts held up perfectly by her bra and those fucking garters around her thighs- it was a major weakness of his. She moved her body like water, smooth and rippling as she worked around the pole. Hair following her like a velvet curtain and a cat like grin, full of filthy promise. His head had been reeling as an unfamiliar feeling rose in his guts and his cock shamefully grew in his trousers. 

The thing was- He’d been trying to talk himself out of having cold feet for months. Proposing was what felt like the next logical step. That’s what her friends had said, what her parents had hinted out. They weren’t wrong, he supposed. Savannah was a good girl, someone his parents approved of, and she was nice. The sex was alright, she didn’t complain, and she was beautiful. But there was something missing. 

That passion. That lust he’d always thought he would feel when it came to his forever partner. Something he’d been convinced wasn’t real. And he was a piece of shit, because watching the woman in the skimpy get up approach him as he sat in the oversized cushy chair, his cock had more interest in her than it had in his fiancè in the last 4 months. 

“Hello.” She purred, syrupy voice warming his bones. “I heard I was specifically requested and with quite a nice tip promised. I can’t help but be flattered.” He could see her skin sparkling, like there was body shimmer sprinkled all over her. The thighs, the chest, her breasts especially- he felt that guilt in his stomach start to dissipate as she got closer to him. She smelled sweet, like coconuts and vanilla, and she stared right back into his eyes. Her lips painted a cherry red, he nearly panted as she placed her knees on either side of his spread thighs and sat on top of him. 

God, he felt like his heart could beat out of his chest. Her warmth went straight to his cock though she wasn’t sitting on it yet, her hair long and brushing his forearm as he kept it on the arm of the leather chair. It was oversized for this specific purpose, he thought. 

“Well, I have to admit to you that the feeling is mutual. I could feel your eyes on me when I was on the stage and I was impressed. Such a handsome man.” Her fingers stroked his jawline, tilting it up towards her face as she moved her hips. He was hypnotized. Eyes dipping to her lips and back up to her heated eyes. “You’ve got me for an hour, now. I think you should introduce yourself.” 

He could barely feel his tongue, but he had to get to talking. She almost intimidated him, sitting on top of him and touching him like she had all the rights to be there. Like he wasn’t about to get married. “Harry. My name’s Harry.” He rasped, managing to spew those words out without losing his tongue. Thank god, because he knew it wanted to do many other things. 

“Yeah? Well, Harry… you can call me Angel.” She purred, slipping her fingers up and through his hair. It was embarrassing when he let out a soft moan, feeling her manicured nails against his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him like this. His fiancè was sweet, but she didn’t really… do much for him. Not like this. She’d make a good wife, a good mother no doubt, but he wanted more than that. “I don’t usually take offers like this, you know.” The temptation moved from straddling him to standing in front of him, turning around and bending over to brush her ass against his crotch. “I don’t do private rooms but being blunt? I thought you were sexy. We can break a few rules tonight, can’t we?” 

Her body laid on top of his as she rolled her ass on top of him, making him drop his head back against the chair. There was no way she couldn’t feel his cock, not with the way it was straining against his trousers. She moved perfectly against it, her arm coming back to tangle in his hair. Her temple was against his cheek, feeling the slight scruff as she took his hand from where it was clenching the arm of the chair with white knuckles, pulling it to run over her stomach. 

“Usually… we don’t let people touch us. But I think I can make an exception for you.” Her hand was slow as she moved it up, trying to feel for any resistance. It was clear she wasn’t going to make him do more than he wanted- but that was the problem. He wanted. Fucking desperately. It was hard to hold on to the resolve, to remain faithful when the girl of his dreams was dangling herself like a cat going for a string. He wanted to touch and taste and feel. All the things he absolutely, positively should not do. 

“Yeah?” His voice was dark and rough, trying to find his self control and ultimately failing as he let her drag his hand up and cup around her breast. The both of them let out a noise of relief as he squeezed without her urging, continuing her moving on him. “What kind of exception?” 

“Well… your friends told me that you have one more night of freedom. That you didn’t seem like you were getting what you needed in your other situation.” Her thumb ran over his ring finger. “They told me that you needed to pull your head out of your ass and see that it’s a mistake.” Her body moved further up, lips ghosting his jaw. “To put it bluntly, Harry, they wanted me to show you that you could have the attention you want. Don't settle for the first pretty face that someone approves of. Sometimes….” She moaned as his fingers pinched her pierced nipple through the lace of her bra. “Sometimes you’ve got to be reminded of the things you could have.” 

Harry was in a trance. He’d barely had a sip of his drink, having been too enthralled with her on the stage. His friends must have noticed it, and he hadn’t even been sure considering he had stared her whole set. Tipped most of his cash he’d taken out. At one cold sober, and he couldn’t even blame it on anything but his own mind. He hadn’t allowed himself to look at other women, tried desperately to make this work and be faithful but fuck, he was losing. Her supple ass moved against his cock, his fingers plucked her nipple as she was giving him an in. 

“And how am I going to be reminded of that?” He was going to regret this, probably. When he woke up tomorrow and the adrenaline had faded… or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe his mind would be as clear like he had been dying to have it. 

“Like this.” She hummed. “Let yourself do what you want with me, Harry. If you do decide to go through with it… if you cuff yourself to that woman, as lovely as she may be… you’ll have had one final night of freedom.” Her voice was a purr. “Let me take care of you.”

It scared him. Being locked into a relationship he knew he wasn’t going to be fully satisfied with… it wasn’t what anyone wanted, but he felt a little trapped. He’d settled, he knew that, but it hadn’t been so obvious to him until a woman he was truly attracted to came and ruined his plans. It wasn’t fair to put this on her, but it was like looking at his decision for what it was. A mistake. 

He wished he could be stronger. He wished he had more resolve, that his prick wasn’t leaking in his pants as he palmed her tits, that he stopped her from sinking to her knees and undoing the belt his fiancè had bought him for his birthday, that he didn’t raise his hips and help her pull his pants down. He wished he could say he didn’t groan in satisfaction as her hot little tongue ran up the length of his cock, from his sac to his tip with a filthy little giggle, but he did it anyways. 

“Fuck…” she cooed. “Such a pretty cock, Harry.” Her words were murmured as she lapped over the leaking slit. “I’m going to take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing, okay?” She took his hand and pulled it to her hair. “I’ll pinch your thigh if I need to stop for a second. Let go of all that worry and let me take care of you.” 

The guilt that had still tried to roll around in his stomach began to dissipate yet again as she sunk her head down on his length. Taking him down, showing off her skills as he felt the tip of his cock in back of her fucking throat. His mouth fell open as he looked down, feeling her nose brush his tummy before she pulled up, saliva stringing to her lips as she sent him a filthy grin. Harry hadn’t felt that in ages, his fiancè more gentle with the way she gave oral- refined. She didn’t like to do it much anyways  which- it was fine. Everyone had their preferences. But fuck, when she spit thickly on his cock and used her hand to stroke and smear it all over, he remembered just how much he missed a sloppy blowie. How much he missed the animalistic desire, when a person would be so eager to please that they’d put their all into it. 

“Shit.” He hissed through his teeth. “That’s good.” The words fell from his tongue without a second thought and her eyes brightened as she sucked the tip back into her mouth. The soft squelch of her wet hand stroking him was audible, sucking firm on the ruddy tip and her tongue brushed the slit, making his breathing quicken. He was only a few minutes into it and it was the best head he’d ever had. “Take more.” 

The Angel on her knees simply looked up at him, putting her clean hand on his on the back of her head and motioning for him to push. 

Fuck. 

“You- You want me to fuck your mouth.” He rasped, watching as she nodded, humming the best she could around him. How could he say no to that? When his prick was dripping for her and her hand was firmly stroking over the base. He held her hair in his hand, slowly pushing her down as he watched. Her red lips had smeared on his cock and his stomach and he knew he’d need to wash up before he got home and his clueless fiancè possibly saw, but it sent a thrill up his spine. Watching her stretched lips sink all the way down, marveling at how she took it with only a few gags- he was in his own version of heaven. 

“Christ, you’re good at that.” He grit his teeth, pulling her up slightly before pushing her back down. “Let me know when you need to breathe. Fuck, it’s been so long.” His head rolled back on the chair, lifting his hips slightly as he felt her throat flex. She was drooling around him, letting out noises that vibrated against him and added to the pleasure. It was disgusting, filthy, so fucking wrong- and yet he was obsessed. 

She sat like a good girl, even though she was being a filthy whore for him, her free hand gently dragging her nails over his inner thigh. It made him fucking crazy, hissing as he really fucked into her throat. She’d feel it tomorrow, she’d remember taking his spoken for prick into her mouth and changing his whole fucking world view. “Such a good slut for me. Can’t believe you’re taking all of this, fucking Angel.” He slurred, rutting up into her face as she let out little gags and fueled his arousal. 

Giving her a chance to breathe, he relished in the choked sound she let out as he pulled out of her mouth. She panted, pulling on his length before spitting on him. The girl was a fucking wreck, eyes wet with tears and chin dripping with spit but she looked happier than he’d ever seen anyone else taking his cock. It made him think about how she’d never seemed this happy to pleasure him. It was done, of course, but it seemed like a chore. This girl, Angel, which he doubted was her real name- she was enjoying every bit of it. Loving it. “You like sucking me off, don’t you?” He thumbed away some of the mess. 

“I love it.” She admitted, turning her head to press a kiss over his thumb. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to suck a pretty cock. None have been as good as yours.” The girl’s voice was wrecked and it did something to him, the most primal part. “Is this all you want, sir?” Her eyes gazed into his own. “Did you want to cum into my throat? Or….” She tilted her head. “Did you want to do more to me?” Her eyes fluttered as she gave him a soft, coy little look that made his prick twitch in her hand. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

The man didn’t even know that was an option. Honestly- he shouldn’t. This was bad enough. He was cheating, he was fucking up massively, but he couldn’t deny he was drawn to this woman. This beautiful stripper who had given him the most glorious head and let him fuck into her throat. It would be wrong to fuck her. So fucked up, so awful to do this and crawl back into bed with Savannah when he got home- but he couldn’t say no. He really, really needed this. 

“I want to know your real name before I fuck you.” He decided, sealing his fate as an awful- but sexually satisfied- person.

“Y/N.” She mumbled, moving up his body. “But don’t tell anyone else, yeah? I like you…” her lips brushed against his own. “So I’m going to let you do awful, filthy things to me. The stuff the girl at home won’t let you do.” The side  took the lead again and took his hand, cupping it over his cunt. “Don’t waste a tight, hot cunt that’s wet for you. Or… my ass.” She purred. “It’s all up to you. I’m open to anything with a cock like that.” 

Harry moved in a blur. A double check she was okay with it, a condom being produced from the side drawer that she slipped on his cock and her body climbing on top of his, he couldn’t really find a way to stop himself when the mere sight of her had changed his plans, ruined his mental resolve. Her panties yanked to the side, her slick cunt wasted no time. He’d offered to prep her but she shook her head, telling him she wanted the stretch- and he wasn’t going to tell this girl no. 

His mouth fell open as he groaned, watching her cunt spread for him. He had a front row seat as she sat herself on top of his cock, watching it fill her up. She whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders as her tummy jumped at the sharp breaths, but she never stopped. Slowly taking him in, she engulfed him and covered him in that tight, sopping heat that he had been desperate for. She was much tighter than the woman he had waiting for him at home, and the thought only spurred him on. “Fuck me… you’re so tight.” He hissed, hands gripping her ass tight. His marks would be visible on her. She’d stumble home and go to sleep, wake up with the reminder of his cock in her and his hands on her- but he couldn’t have the same. He wished he could, though he doubted he could ever forget this. 

“Just for you.” She purred, pushing him to lean back against the chair. Fully sat on him, she began to grind over him. Whimpering as her clit brushed his stomach, looking at his face as his eyes were moving from where they were connected and her face. He looked almost like he was in pain, but she knew it was pleasure. Getting used to feeling her around him. The girl knew it was wrong to do this, but she never claimed to be a saint. A man as sexy as him should be positive about who he was marrying, because god knew he could get anyone he wanted. “Is that what you needed, Harry? Needed a tight cunt wrapped around your big cock?” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Testing her limits. 

Everything about this was wrong, but it had never felt so right being inside of a woman. Feeling her squeeze him as she rocked back and forth in his lap, her breasts brushing his chest and her lips nearing his. He knew kissing her would be the final nail in the coffin, the last straw, there would be no turning back or controlling his urges. But he knew she was the one in control at the moment and he was at the mercy of the beautiful woman and the needs of his leaking cock. “So fucking good, baby.” He panted. “S’all I needed.” 

Y/N beamed, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back before connecting their lips. And that was game over for Harry. 

He gave in. Submitting to his desires, the last tiny droplet of guilt drying up like water on a hot pan. Sizzling away as the arousal burned hot in his gut, his balls tight and full as she began to lift herself up and down on his prick and her tongue entered his mouth. Sweet like cherry vanilla, moaning into his mouth as she fucked herself on his cock like she owned it. Hell- he had to admit that tonight, she did own it. She was giving him everything that he had been dying for, begging for, but couldn’t have. He’d settled without it for a while but this was the reminder that it could be better- he could have better. 

She was so fucking wet. Harry’d never felt pussy like this before, not with it dripping down to his balls and smearing over his stomach as she whimpered against his mouth. Her hand held his hair and tugged, making him growl against her mouth as he began to fuck into her. Sinking down further into the chair with his feet firm on the ground, bucking into her welcoming, sopping hole as she let out little noises against his mouth. 

“Take me.” She taunted through breaths. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you’ve been needing.” Lips dragged across his own and he could feel her smile. “She doesn’t give it to you like this, does she?” Her hand pulled harder at the nape of his neck, making him grit his teeth. “Doesn’t suck you nice and messy, doesn’t let you take her pussy like this? How could she waste such a gorgeous cock…” her other hand clenched down on his shoulder, a squeak leaving her as Harry’s hand came down roughly on her ass. “Oh, fuck. She doesn’t let you do that either, does she?” The girl had nerve to giggle against him, suckling on his bottom lip as he snarled. “Do it again, baby. Hit me.” 

Harry felt like he could pass out. Fucking into her cunt without reservation, her filthy words fanning the flames of his arousal and dousing any possible guilt even just talking about her, she told him to smack her ass again. So he did. He didn’t hold back, feeling the sting in his hand but also noticing how she got even more soaked as his length pistoned into her, how she let out a string of low curses before tugging his hair harsher. “Again.” She growled. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you can’t do to her. Are you going to lock down this perfect cock on someone who can’t use it right?” Y/N was pushing boundaries but she was getting what she wanted, another rough spank that she was sure would bruise. 

“Yes, yes- you know I’m right.” A giggle of disbelief filled the room, along with the slap of wet skin. “You could have pussy whenever you want. Don’t-don’t tie yourself to someone you can’t pound like a slut. That’s what you’ve been needing, isn’t it? Pussy better than that frigid bitch of a wannabe wife-“ the words were cut off as Harry took control. Turning them around, he stuffed her face into the cushy back of the chair and lifted her hips up, making her scramble to hold on to the chair as he slammed back in. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, tugging her head to the side so she could breathe but holding on the side of her head so she stayed put. “Just shut up and take my cock like the good little whore you claim to be. Fucking slut.” He smacked her ass again, smiling to himself at the fucked out smile on her face. This was the nasty shit he’d been holding back, no outlet to put it in. It was pathetic, he knew it, not going after what he wanted- but this was a wake up call. Women like Y/N existed. Who wanted it just like he did, who taunted and craved and let themself get messy. Didn’t worry about bruises, who asked for it harder. This was his dream woman, if he was being honest. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” She whined. “I’ll be good for you. Just don’t stop fucking me. I’m gonna cum.” It wasn’t a secret. He could feel it, feel her beginning to pulse around his length as he railed her. He was in her stomach, fucking her deep and she took every inch. The thought lingered in his mind, thinking about how an hour wasn’t enough. He needed more of this. He wanted to take his time, to make her whimpery and wobbly in the knees. Make her fall out of work the next day. It wasn’t something he thought she did, but if she would allow it he knew he was going to pay her for every second. He’d been depriving himself of everything he wanted for the idea of a picture perfect life, for what people thought he should have. “You’re going to make me cum…” the warning was higher pitched, her eyes watering.

“I can feel it. God, can’t believe how lucky I’ve got it. Perfect little slut for my cock.” The chair was hitting the wall but the pumping music outside muffled it. His balls smacked against her clit, getting wet with each thrust and making her legs quiver. The girl’s fingers held tightly to the chair he was fucking her into, body lax and giving him then ability to do whatever he needed. “Maybe I’ll come back and take this pussy again. Would you like that? Like being a nasty fuck like this, ruining my plans?” 

“Yes- yes, don’t keep this dick away from me, Harry. I’ll do anything to have it again.” She was cockdrunk and he knew she may not mean it, but it was what he needed to hear. Y/N was doing what he’d needed to have months ago, providing him the mental clarity to see he was making a massive mistake if he went through with this. “She doesn’t have to know. I’ll be quiet, please- come back and see me. Shit.” Her hand hit the fabric, eyes hooded as he gave her what she needed in return. “Or don’t go th-through with it. I can give you what you need- oh my god.” Her words were interrupted by him spreading her open and spitting right over her hole, thumbing over her ass. “Yes. Yes- please, do it.” 

Harry was in awe of her, pressing into the needy girl’s ass with his thumb and watching as her mouth dropped open. It was a domino effect after that. Pushing his thumb in and pulling it out only once before filling her back up, she began to shake under him before letting out a choked moan of his name- she came. Wet and hot, gushing slightly around his cock and making a mess as she came, slick and perfect for him. 

He wished he had more willpower, but it had been so long since he’d fucked properly. Seeing her whine and reach back, finding his arm and digging her nails into his forearm and cumming like a mess around his cock, he was quick to follow. It surprised him how intense it was. Feeling her pulsating hole trying to milk him of every drop, he growled loudly and sloppily thrust into her, looking at the creamy cunt as he unloaded into the condom. His legs felt weak as he slowed his thrusts, breathing heavy and sweat covering his forehead as he looked down at the view under him. 

His dick sheathed by the best pussy he’d ever had, her ass snug up against his body and her blissed out face looking back at him. He was a mess, one that he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone without making it abundantly clear about what happened, but this was the best he’d felt in months. 

“You okay?” He asked softly, stroking the hair out of her face. “Went rough on you.” His knuckle brushed away the trail of tears. It did something for his ego, he knew, and this would be something he remembered forever. The most beautiful woman looking at him like he’d hung the damn moon. He’d done that to her. It filled him with pride. This was the feeling he was supposed to have after sex. That feeling he’d been going crazy searching for. Not the slight disappointment as soon as the lackluster orgasm faded. Savannah wasn’t a bad woman, not at all- but she wasn’t right for him. 

“I’m fucking perfect.” She breathed out, shaking her head. “Just- don’t pull out yet. I need a minute.” Her voice was weaker now as she slumped against the chair, Harry following suit. Pressing himself against her back, he took the lead and kissed her again, humming at the taste of him and cherry vanilla on her lips. “Are you going to come back and see me?” She mumbled as he pulled back a bit. 

“I’d like to, yeah.” He laughed breathlessly. “Have some things to break off but… I’d love your number, if that’s something you’d be comfortable with.” If he didn’t do this again, he thinks he may die. Dramatic, but his life was changed.  “Mmm…”’she hummed. “I don’t usually do that, but I’ll make another exception for you.”

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Summary: It's been a month since Carrie's last episode.

WC: ~3.75k

It’s been a month since Carrie’s last meltdown. And she’s returned to going out almost every night, coming home hammered, waking you to satiate her desires, and then passing out. It’s become the normal again that you drop Millie off on your own and pick her up by yourself. You’re back to rushing home to make dinner while your wife sits there and complains that your meals aren’t what they used to be- or what she wants (you don’t care; Millie likes your cooking, and she’s what matters). She’s back to a woman who rarely shows that she cares about her wife or child.

But at least she hasn’t harmed you again yet. She hasn’t even started an argument yet. But that would change.

When you pick your daughter up today, Millie has a paper in her hand that she gives right to you. And then her teacher is making her way over to you.

“Y/N!” Melissa smiles at you.

You return the smile. “Miss Schemmenti.”

“I was hoping to catch you before you took off for the night. Conferences are coming up in two weeks, and I was hoping that both you and your wife could be in attendance,” she tells you.

You grimace. “I know that I will definitely sign up for a conference to see what my little rascal has been up to,” you promise as you ruffle your girl’s hair. “But Carrie… I’m not sure. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I really would like it if both of you could come,” she tells you flatly.

You nod. “I’d like that too, but…” you trail off. What you want to say is that it seems you’re the only parent that cares- that you’re essentially a single mother when it comes to Millie. But you can’t. So you don’t.

“Well, that was all,” the redhead shrugs. “Have a nice night now.”

“You too,” you sigh as you take your daughter’s hand and begin to lead her towards the sidewalk for the walk home.

Your journey home is light. It’s painless, and Millie tells you all about how she just loves Melissa- how she’s having so much fun at school. You could not be more grateful for that. Abbott may not produce the best test scores or have the finest resources in the area, but the kids have fun and are able to be kids. The teachers care for their students like their own. You know you made the right choice when you enrolled your sweet little girl at Abbott. Had she gone to another school, she would not be the generous and thoughtful person she’s blossoming into.

As per usual, Carrie is sitting on her laptop when you walk in. She does not look happy. Still, you make your way over and greet her with as much warmth as you can muster up. As you do so, you set the paper detailing conferences in front of her.

“What’s this?” your wife asks, and it’s clear she’s not thrilled that you’re setting this paper down for her to see.

“Millie’s school is holding conferences in two weeks. I thought it might be nice for you to go with me to meet with Miss Schemmenti.”

“Melissa?” Carrie’s eyes light up.

“To speak about Millie,” you emphasize.

Your wife’s blue eyes stare at you for a long second. “Yes,” she gets ahold of herself. “To speak about Millie.”

“Just tell me which day and time works best for you, and I’ll arrange to take a half day,” you tell your wife as you make your way to the refrigerator.

“Can we sign up for all of them?” Carrie licks her lips.

You chuckle softly. “I don’t think we need that much time with Miss Schemmenti.”

“But what if I do?” your wife’s eyebrows go up, and you can see the longing in her eyes.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you’re so glad you quickly turn away from the woman you call a wife. Is she seriously thinking about your daughter’s teacher in such a way, out loud, to you?

You don’t even dignify her a response to that question. “Just please let me know by tomorrow morning so I can take off work.”

Carrie’s eyes scan over the times on the papers. “That Wednesday at 12:30 works for me.”

“I’ll get in touch with Miss Schemmenti, but I will need you to meet me there because I’ll have to cone straight from work.”

“Let me,” your wife smiles dreamily. “I can reach out and let her know when we’re coming.”

The more naive side of you takes over, and you manage to close your mouth. “Really? Thank you.”

Your wife does email Melissa. But she tells Melissa an earlier time for that day- a time where she knows that you’ll still be working for your half day and she can show up on her own. And the teacher is none the wiser to question it, because for once Carrie does it through your email, knowing you never look at your outbox. She signs the email as you, and all is taken care of.

The day of conferences, you’re able to get one of your daughter’s friends to have her over so Millie doesn’t disturb Carrie while she’s working. You get your little girl up and out the door before heading out for your own job. Your wife is still asleep when the door closes behind you quietly.

She isn’t asleep for long though, because she has a meeting with Melissa. She gets herself ready- dresses to the nines, and takes the car to the school.

Carrie knocks on the doorframe of the classroom where Melissa is. The redhead looks up, expecting to see you- but all she can see is your wife, whose cleavage is out far more than necessary for a parent-teacher conference.

“Good morning,” Melissa says as cordially as possible. Her eyes refuse to look at your wife’s chest- that would just be disrespectful. Yes, she noticed, but who wouldn’t notice with the top the woman is wearing. “I’m so glad you could be here. Where is Y/N?”

“Not feeling well,” Carrie lies through her teeth as her eyes wander up and down the redhead’s figure. “But I promised her I would come over by myself.”

“To speak about Millie,” the teacher makes sure to add on.

Carrie nods. “Of course.”

“Perfect. Well, Millie’s been doing a real nice job in reading- her decoding of words and knowledge of certain base words and root words is really helping her along. With this, her writing is excelling at a fast rate. She’s on track to be writing at an emerging fourth grade level by the end of the school year.”

“That- that’s wonderful,” your wife smiles as she adjusts her shirt so the top of her bra is showing, and the curve of her breasts are spilling out over top.

The redhead ignores this advance. She looks Carrie in the eye as she continues on to explain more about Millie’s progress in the English Language Arts. And then she switches to begin speaking about mathematics, and Carrie can’t take it anymore.

“My tits are down here,” she states, and even gestures to them.

Melissa’s mouth drops just slightly before she composes herself again. “We are not here for that, Carrie. We are here to discuss Mill-”

“Oh, enough about her. I want to know about you,” Carrie says seductively, throwing in a wink.

“And I would like to continue speaking about how well your daughter is doing in school so you can relay it to your wife,” Melissa reiterates. “As I was saying, Millie is a bright little-”

“Are you really rejecting me right now? When I look like this?”

The teacher looks up to the sky, wondering what the hell she’s supposed to do about this right now. “Carrie, I say this in the most respectful way possible: I am not interested. You have a wife, and a daughter- who is my student. We are here to talk about Millie and how well she is-”

“Yeah, yeah, how Millie is so great because she’s so much like her other mother. This is outrageous.” Your wife storms out of the room before Melissa can get in another word.

The second grade teacher can only stare in the direction of the door. And then she has to prepare for the next conference. There isn’t much time in between meetings.

You, sitting at your desk, are blissfully unaware of the fact that Carrie had orchestrated that meeting. The one thing that your wife hadn’t thought about when planning to get Melissa alone? She entirely forgot to lie to you and tell you that the time slot you had planned on was ‘taken’. She figures that you’ll forget anyway. But you don’t. Why would you forget about something regarding Millie and her schooling? So at noon, you pack your things up and begin to make your way down to Abbott Elementary to meet with Melissa.

You have to hustle to get there on time, but you make it. You allow yourself to catch your breath before you knock on the doorframe of the classroom. The redhead is in the middle of eating her lunch, and you feel slightly bad for interrupting her meal- but she’s expecting you. Her eyes lift to you, and then her brows furrow in confusion. Okay, maybe she wasn’t expecting you?”

“Y/N?” the teacher asks, clearly lost. “This is a surprise.”

“What do you mean? Carrie told me that she scheduled our conference for 12:30 today,” you explain. “Did I get the time wrong?” You pull out your phone and scroll to your calendar. No, it’s right there in writing that you were scheduled for a conference at this time.

“Carrie came in earlier today for the conference that you scheduled,” Melissa tells you. “And she told me you weren’t feeling well.”

“Well, I’m clearly feeling just fine,” you mutter as you make your way a bit further into the room. You set your bag on the closest desk.

The redhead opens her email and pulls up the message from you, or she supposes it was Carrie now, before reciting it back to you. 

“She didn’t sign it as herself though,” the teacher shrugs. “Used your name, and the email that you usually keep in contact with.”

“That- that’s odd, I must say. I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding,” you sigh softly. “I apologize for the confusion. Are you still available to chat about Millie’s progress with me?”

“Yeah, alright,” Melissa agrees as she finishes off the last of her salad. She proceeds to tell you what she was attempting to tell your wife, and she is actually able to get through all of the things she wanted to highlight with the both of you. It ranges from her academics to the fact that your little girl has one of the biggest hearts the redhead has seen from a child.

You can’t help but smile. Millie is a bright girl, she’s a sweet girl, and her teacher doesn’t have enough good things to say abut her. You make sure to tell Miss Schemmenti that the feeling is mutual- that Millie absolutely adores her and is always telling you how she is so happy to have Melissa as her teacher.

“She’s a special little girl,” the redhead tells you with soft eyes. “And quite resilient, what with everything that was going on a month ago.”

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. You still don’t want to confirm that Carrie was abusing you and it’s only a matter of time before it begins happening again. So instead, you glance at your watch. “Well, I really do appreciate you taking this time to speak with me about Millie. And again, I’m quite sorry for the confusion of conference times.”

Finally, the woman sitting at the desk can’t hold back anymore. “Y/N, I don’t think there was any confusion. At least not on my end.”

A brow of yours creeps up your forehead. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your wife made her intentions pretty clear with me today,” Melissa sighs. “I don’t think there was any sort of mix up on her end.”

“Huh?” You lean forward just a bit to continue to get her to talk.

The redhead reluctantly explains what had happened- how Carrie had come in with a shirt that was entirely inappropriate, only drew attention to it, and had fully hit on her.

Your heart is broken by the end of it. You’re absolutely mortified. “I- I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing for you to apologize about,” Melissa tells you. “Just… be careful, okay?”

You nod. “Thank you for your time, Melissa.”

You allow yourself some time to not confront your wife right away. You have the rest of the afternoon off, you don’t have to pick up Millie until three, and you need space to think and breathe about how you’re going to handle this situation that you’ve found yourself in.

Stopping at your favorite little coffee shop, you pay for a drink and settle in by the window. People watching has always helped relax you and clear your head to be able to sit in your own thoughts and feelings. 

Then you’re on your way to pick up Millie. She’s so excited to see you again, and your heart soars when she hugs you and kisses your cheek- not caring that her friend sees. Millie is such a little love bug, and you hope that never changes. You thank her friend’s mother for keeping her for the day, and then you’re off.

“What did Miss Schemmenti have to tell you?” your little girl asks.

Your mind immediately goes to what she had to say about Carrie and the stunt that she pulled. For a split second, you see red. But then you look down and see that your daughter is so eager to hear what her favorite teacher had to say about her, and your heart softens again.

“Miss Schemmenti had great things to say,” you tell Millie. You go on to relay all of the wonderful things that the redhead had told you about your daughter academically, but you really make sure to make her aware of the fact that Melissa was so impressed with her empathy and sympathy for others. “And I am so proud of you for being such a sweet little girl.”

Your daughter’s smile is bright- brighter than usual. She practically skips home while you watch her. You are so thankful that Millie seems to be taking after you, as opposed to your wife. In a fight of nature versus nurture, your daughter is all nurture- and you couldn’t be more pleased with the bright, kindhearted child you are raising.

Of course, in thinking that, your mind wanders to your wife- your wife who blatantly lied to you about the time of conferences in order to flirt with the second grade teacher. By the time you walk through the front door, your mood has soured once more. 

Carrie is sitting at her place, and while you would usually make your way over to her and kiss her cheek, you refrain from that action. Instead, you quietly kick your shoes off and make your way into the kitchen with your daughter to begin preparing dinner.

“What?” your wife practically yells. “No hello? No I love you? No how was your day?”

You don’t even give her a dignified response, just a soft hum as you open up the refrigerator.

“Excuse you?” Carrie begins to seethe. She hates being ignored.

“Millie, go to your room please,” you request. “I have to talk to your mother.”

“But we’re makin’-”

“Now, Amelia,” you say in a tone that leaves no room for arguments. Then you soften. “Please, honey.”

At her full first name, your daughter frowns, but she listens and makes for the steps. Only once you’re positive that your little girl is in her room do you turn and glare at your wife.

“So, I found something interesting out today,” you say, and there’s an edge in your voice that you haven’t heard from yourself in a long while.

“And that would be?”

“That you had a conference with Miss Schemmenti today,” you state cooly. “You seem to have forgotten that you told me we were going to meet with her at 12:30 today.”

“Is that what I said?” Carrie feigns confusion. “I could’ve sworn I said earlier in the day.”

“Cut the shit, Car,” you hiss. There’s a fire in you that you thought you lost, but here it is. “She told me you told her I wasn’t feeling well. She told me all about how you were flirting with her, hitting on her.”

“So what if I was?”

“You aren’t even going to deny it?” you raise a brow and fold your arms over your chest.

“So what if I did? She’s hot, and it’s not like you put out anymore these days.”

“I can’t believe you,” you seethe. “I can’t fucking believe you. Do you know how mortifying it was to hear that my wife was flirting with our daughter’s teacher?! God, I-”

“What am I supposed to do?” Carrie’s voice raises in volume. “It’s not like we ever fuck anymore! It’s not like you care anymore!”

Your jaw drops open, and you move in her direction. “How dare you tell me I don’t care anymore. How fucking dare-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, because in one swift moment, your wife strikes you against the cheek.

Her perfectly manicured nail points directly at you. “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, you bitch.”

“I’ll talk to you however you want.” You’ve finally hit your breaking point. “I’ve put up with this shit for long enough, Carrie. I’m fucking done.”

“Done with what?”

“You.”

“Like hell you are,” your wife gets even closer to you. “You leave me, I’ll be just fine, baby. It’s you who won’t. The broken, pathetic, little bitch that you are won’t ever find love again because nobody could ever be foolish enough to fall in love with you.”

“Maybe I don’t need it,” you hiss. “I have enough love in my life with my daughter.”

“She isn’t your daughter. I’m the one who carried her. I’m the one who gave birth to her. I went through all that fucking shit because you couldn’t,” Carrie reminds you as she gets so close that you can smell the alcohol in her breath. At this moment, you know you should back down. Back down to keep yourself safe, your mind screams at you. But something in you doesn’t listen, and you only continue this fight.

“She’s my daughter,” you argue. “You only tell me that every fucking day of our lives- and it’s not like Millie even fucking loves you. You’re a stranger to her because you never pay her any-”

There’s another blow to your cheek. Despite every feeling of wanting to strike her back, you refrain. You absolutely refuse to sink down to that woman’s level. Instead, you tenderly hold where your cheek stings. The fire that you thought had returned leaves your body as quickly as it had entered.

“Fuck you!” Carrie roars. “Fuck you!”

Before you know it, she’s really flying off the handle. Things are being thrown, glass is being shattered, your cheek stings more than ever now that right under your eye is cut with a sharp piece of ceramic. You feel the blood begin to trickle down your-

“Momma?” Millie’s eyes are wide as she peeks around the corner at the scene before her.

“Mill, go upstairs,” you whisper. “Go.”

“Amelia, stay,” Carrie bites out.

The little girl’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you, clearly unsure of what to do. “Momma, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mill,” you say softly, keeping your voice as warm and as even as possible, despite the fact that you are anything but calm. You turn towards her, and boy is that a mistake. Blue eyes land on the cut on your face, and she’s racing for you.

“Your mother is just learning her lesson,” your wife hisses. “She’s fine.”

Your daughter looks enraged as she realizes what Carrie is saying. The next few seconds are a blur, and you aren’t really sure what’s happening until you see your wife raise a hand towards your daughter. Your maternal instincts take over, and you grab Millie as quickly as you can, holding her close to you. You take the blow instead of your daughter. And then you’re off. You have your keys in your hand, and you leave the house.

Millie is hysterical. Of course she is. Her mother just almost struck her, and she watched as you got struck. She sees the blood trailing down your face through the rear view mirror.

“You’re okay, baby,” you try to soothe. “You’re alright.”

Your little girl’s sobs are enough to break your heart. You don’t know what to do. Should you go to the hospital? Should you head down to the police station? What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You have no idea.

You continue to drive in circles for what feels like forever. And then you make a turn, and Abbott Elementary is in your view. You remember the sticky note that your daughter’s teacher had given you a month ago. You see that the parking lot is still filled with the cars of the teachers- still stuck there for conferences. Before you know it, your car is parked. Millie’s hand is in your own as you make your way into the school and down to the classroom that you enter everyday.

Melissa is sitting at her desk, glasses on the tip of her nose as she mindlessly scrolls through her phone. Her conferences have been over for an hour now, but she’s still being forced to stay. Your knock on her doorframe has her jump, clearly not expecting anybody to enter her classroom. Her eyes lock with yours, and her face falls.

“Y/N, are you- are you alright?” She’s standing and in front of you in an instant.

You shake your head. And then the words come tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Please. Please save me. Save me before I lose myself.”

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff

[katelynnwrites]

Darling, You’re The One I Want (In Paper Rings, In Picture Frames, In All Dreams) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: f for fluff!

word count: 2655

summary: syd's been asking you to marry her since you were both little, before she ever had a proper ring

a/n: had this idea three days ago and knew it had to written right away so here you go 🥰 (update: made a little moodboard too)

Sydney has been introducing you as her ‘almost wife’ for as long as you remember.

You have been together since you were both in kindergarten, with your best friend proposing to you with a gummy ring.

Her mother had packed a small bag of peach gummy rings into her lunch box and so it’s on the swings in the playground that Sydney proposes to you for the first time.

‘There! You are my almost wife now.’ She declares, sticking the melting gummy onto your finger after you say yes.

You giggle and pull the ring off, eating the gummy ring with a smile.

Syd laughs, eating one of her own gummies.

‘I’m gonna marry you when we grow up.’ She says seriously.

You look at the girl sitting on the swing next to you. She has scuffed knees, messy braids and is missing one of her front teeth but you are sure that you want the same thing.

As the gummy ring is so short lived, the German girl steps up her game. She brings a ring pop that she has persuaded her father to let her buy after kindergarten the day before.

The ring pop lasts longer but at the end of the day, it is still gone.

So Sydney gets you a new ring pop, in a variety of different flavours every day. She asks if you will marry her each time and your answer never wavers.

It is always yes and you eat a ring pop daily until your parents intervene, telling you that eating so much candy is bad for your teeth.

You relay this to the blonde with the saddest of looks, completely convinced that this is the end of your so-called marriage with her.

She is undeterred by the setback though, showing up with a knotted piece of string next.

That piece of string stayed around your ring finger on your left hand until it disintegrated, at which your best friend promptly found another.

And so it continued, going from a piece of string, to a ribbon through primary school, to a folded paper ring in secondary school.

Sydney and you spend more time together than ever now, going to school together and playing football together.

The blonde had got you into it, sometime early into primary school. She had eagerly wanted you to experience what she loved so much about the sport.

It was easy for you to fall in love with kicking a football around, just as it is easy to fall in love with your best friend who proposes to you every time she gives you a new ring.

At fifteen, she kissed you for the first time and it came so naturally that the both of you just knew.

Neither of you would ever have eyes for anyone else and the transition from friendship to something more is remarkably smooth.

With each new paper ring, comes a kiss and a proposal from Sydney.

‘Will you marry me?’ She asks, holding out the paper ring she’d folded during her math class.

The blonde had noticed that the one you have been wearing has gotten worn down, the paper it is made out of is getting kind of icky.

‘Yes I’ll marry you sonnenschein.’ You say with a giggle.

Sydney’s hazel eyes sparkle and she is practically glowing with happiness when she slides your old ring off and replaces it with the new one.

It is why you call her sonnenschein. She lights up your day, every single day.

******

When you tear the tendons and ligaments in your knee so badly that your doctors tell you that you will never play football again, Syd spends the entirety of the first night in the hospital with you.

She had been there when you had been injured, heard the way you cried out and felt her stomach drop.

That look on your face, she had known right away that it would be a devastating sort of injury.

Sydney’s had plenty of experience with injuries herself and even before the doctors get a chance to look at your knee, she is aware that this one is different.

In her heart, she hates how she knows that no matter how hard you try, you will never be able to come back from this.

The blonde sits in the awful, uncomfortable plastic chair by your hospital bed, holding your hand although you barely talk. You’re far too caught up in what is the end of your short lived football career.

You and Syd had a shared dream and the both of you were on the verge of switching from your local sports club to one with more promise.

This injury of yours, could not have come at a worse time.

Your mind is spinning because what are you to do now? You are sixteen and all you have thought about is playing football.

Sydney stays with you till the doctors come in, to take you into surgery.

Her parents and yours are there but she pays them no mind, finally letting go of your hand and kissing you gently.

‘I’ll be right there when you’re out of surgery.’ She promises.

The German girl keeps her word because when you come to, she’s sitting by your side.

‘Hi.’ She breathes.

‘Hey sonnenschein.’ You weakly say.

Your head feels fuzzy but at least your knee isn’t hurting anymore.

Sydney strokes your baby hairs back lightly.

‘I love you. I’m going to be here for you, every single step of the way. However long it takes and no matter how uncertain it gets. That’s what almost wives do.’

You cry and laugh at the same time.

The blonde has a habit of introducing you as her almost wife because she hadn’t known the proper word when she was a kid. Now she knows the word fiancée but still chooses to stick with almost wife.

Your best friend reaches for your hand, pressing comforting kiss after comforting kiss onto your cheeks and forehead until your tears slow.

Then she shows you a somewhat lopsided beaded ring in the palm of her free hand. The way it’s strung together tells you that Syd probably made it for you herself.

You’d lost the paper ring you had been wearing, sometime in between your injury and the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Sydney must have noticed and it causes your heart to swell with emotion for her.

‘Will you marry me? Whatever you decide to do after you get out of the hospital, I will love you.’ She murmurs.

‘Yes I’ll marry you. I love you too.’ You answer softly and the German girl slides the beaded ring onto your hand, being extra careful of the IV in it.

******

That beaded ring stays on through your recovery and through your decision to pursue sports therapy now that professional football is not in your cards.

Until ultimately, the blonde signs for Bayern Munich’s first team.

With that bit of money that she gets, she goes out and buys you an actual ring. It is a simple piece of costume jewellery but it means the world to you.

Sydney doesn’t really make a lot, she had moved out of her family home to be closer to the training grounds so she certainly does not have enough to buy you a proper ring, on top of paying her rent, utilities and keeping up her football.

You are both only seventeen and you are completely okay with the ring she’d given you, faithfully wearing it each and every day.

It discolours after a couple months and the plastic gem in it falls out after a year.

Still, you keep wearing it till the midfielder buys another ring, also costume jewellery but definitely one in better condition.

That one lasts you until she signs another contract for Bayern, one that gets her significantly higher pay.

It is still not enough to buy you a real wedding ring but Sydney diligently puts aside part of her salary each month.

The monthly savings are not a lot because she has decided to start online university studies and the fees cost her on top of her usual spendings but it is a start.

In the meantime, she loves you and you love her. Twenty is the age where everything starts to get serious, you with your studies and the German girl with her football.

She is working on sealing her place on the national team, having made her senior debut two years ago.

With an incredible amount of pride, you watch her play and happily give her a kiss at the end of all her games.

Syd’s injury prone and she likes to tease you, telling you that you need to focus on your studies so that you can help keep her match fit.

As it is, she often benefits from your massage and anatomy classes.

‘I’m helping you get better by being your learning model!’ She insists all the time.

You don’t mind. The blonde sometimes trails after you with pleading eyes when she wants a massage. It is cute really and you’re happy to oblige her.

When she has tough training sessions, she never has to ask. You know right away whenever she does so and Sydney is often exhausted enough to fall asleep during those massages.

Then you just sit with her head in your lap, running your fingers through her hair until she either wakes up or you fall asleep with her.

Being intimately familiar with the German girl’s body is something you will never take for granted.

As Syd continues to play for Bayern, you more or less move into her apartment.

There is no point travelling back and forth between your family home and your university if the blonde’s place is nearer. You spend almost all your free time with her anyway so it only makes sense that you stay with her and contribute fairly to her rent.

She protests against the second part, protests that you ignore but as for the first, Sydney loves it. She loves that she has you to come home to and loves that she gets to go to sleep and wake up beside you.

‘My almost wife is waiting for me back home.’ She always explains before rushing off the second she gets back from away games.

Your sonnenschein adores spoiling you with home cooked food too. It gives her joy to cook and even more to share it with you.

Two years go by fast and Sydney does so well with her football that eventually, she finishes runners up in the Euros.

Then the split prize money, combined with her savings is enough.

You’d travelled around England to support her and watch her live her dream. You being there, cheering her on each and every game, only seals it in Syd’s mind that this is what she wants.

She wants you. Forever.

The second she is back in Munich and free of commitments, she’s off to a jewellery store to pick out a proper ring for you.

It does not take her long, one of the rings on display standing out to her immediately. The Bayern Munich player had not just saved up for any ring. She had intended on choosing a specific piece, with you in mind.

She knows that’s the one.

On your bedside table, you keep a box with all the rings the hazel eyed woman has given you over the years.

Sydney didn’t even know you were keeping them until you moved in with her.

Seeing the bits of half disintegrated string, ribbon and paper, along with the wonky beaded ring, it had let her know that her proposals mean just as much to you as your answers mean to her.

So it is with confidence that she buys a packet of peach gummy rings on the way home, for old time’s sake.

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter and snacking on some biscuits when she gets back.

‘Hey sonnenschein!’ You greet excitedly.

‘Hello.’ Syd hums.

She pulls herself up onto the counter beside you and happily accepts the kiss that you give her.

‘Want some?’ You offer.

The midfielder smirks, ‘I have something better.’

She shows you the peach gummy rings and you giggle, ‘Just like when we were little?’

‘Just like when we were little.’ She confirms.

With the two of you sharing the gummies, the packet empties quickly.

Sydney takes the last one and holds it out to you, asking, ‘Will you marry me?’

You smile at her.

‘Of course I will Syd. I love you.’

The blonde sighs contentedly and you laugh, taking the gummy ring and beginning to put it on your finger only for her to stop you with a gentle, ‘You can eat it. I got you something that will last much longer.’

‘Yeah?’ You question curiously, expecting another one of her costume jewellery rings as you pop the peach gummy into your mouth.

‘Yes.’

Sydney hops off the counter and reaches into her back pocket.

To your complete surprise, she gets down on one knee and reveals the ring box in her palm.

‘Sonnenschein?’

Your voice is trembling and your heart flutters in all sorts of ways as she opens the box to reveal the most beautiful of rings.

‘I’ve asked you to marry me countless times, with gummies, ring pops, strings, ribbons and beads. You have said yes each time and now I’m asking you one last time after finally getting a proper ring. Will you marry me?’

Sydney’s hazel eyes, the ones you are so in love with are radiant. Her cheeks are blushing a bright pink and easily, you get off the counter.

‘I’ve been saying yes since we were children. My answer won’t change now.’

The midfielder grins, ‘It won’t?’

‘No it won’t.’ You whisper.

Pulling Syd up onto her feet, you kiss her with every ounce of emotion that you have for her.

The safety and comfort you’d felt with her from the very first moment you met, the shyness you had felt when she kissed you for the first time, the pride you feel whenever you watched her play and most of all, the overwhelming love that you feel for her. The love that has been growing since she proposed to you with a peach gummy ring, in the kindergarten playground.

Your sonnenschein gasps against your lips, her hands going to your waist as she steadies herself.

It’s a heated kiss, one that leaves the pair of you breathless.

With closed eyes, she leans her forehead against yours.

‘Say it. Please.’

Her words are barely audible but you hear it all the same.

It is with all the affection in the world that you murmur, ‘Yes. I will marry you Sydney.’

The blonde can’t help eagerly scattering kisses all over your face, punctuating them with the words, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’

You laugh and are truly honest when you tell her, ‘I have loved being your almost wife but I think I will love being your wife so much more.’

Syd tilts her head upwards, in a failed attempt to hold her tears back because they slide down her cheeks anyway.

Ignoring your own escaping tears, you delicately wipe hers away.

She soaks in the gesture and quietly but assuredly affirms, ‘I know I will love being your wife.’

Her hands find yours and she slides your old ring off the fourth finger of your left hand, replacing it with her new one.

‘Hopefully this one will last.’ She teases.

You let out a tearful giggle, pressing your lips onto hers once more.

She tastes like peach gummies and it isn’t a proper kiss by any means because the two of you are smiling way too hard but when you draw apart, your words have never been more sure.

‘It will.’

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[notlhecxzsa]

Secret Garden In My Mind - N.R

Summary: Y/n's first day was a...roller coaster ride. But, it got more exciting with her first unexpected interaction with Natasha popping out of nowhere, with only the two of them being left alone in the house.

Author's Note: Hiii! Goshhh, I'm so sorry for making y'all waittt, so here's this! I hope it's enough to forgive me guys HAHA! hope you'll enjoyyyy, let's see where this will lead. 3k+ words.

Warnings: Blood, cursing, blood curdling domesticity (natasha being so soft and idiot), Y/n being a material wife (fuck her parents)

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Natasha's POV:

I saw how those familiar eyes widen, a spatula went in front of her, as if she was trying to hide from me by putting it on her chest. I swallowed a bump on my throat, mentally cursing myself for how I reacted. Of course, she'll be here. God, Natasha.

"I-... I was- I was just... Ms. Maria said I- I can cook the nuggets..." It came out almost as a question. I falter for a moment before regaining my composure back.

If money could make the ground to swallow me whole, that would where my billions will go. Gosh, am I drunk?

"Sorry... I'm sorry..." Those words left my mouth with no hesitation, making me falter once again. Why am I saying sorry? I don't apologize. Especially not under the roof I own and not to some... stranger. "I thought... I thought you were somebody, I'm really sorry..." I mentally face palm, biting my tongue as my inner turmoil just got louder. I mean, how can I stop apologizing when she look so... those eyes! I mean...Ugh, I'm going mad.

"Go on, you can... finish your—whatever you're cooking." I immediately turned to leave just in time when Maria step in the kitchen, a phone in hand and a frown on her face.

"Did you shout?" Fuck.

"Follow me." I commanded, walking past her without bothering to excuse myself.

I saw in my peripheral vision how the new presence that is with us put her head down, making the nagging feeling inside my chest flutter even more. As I walked away, my hearing caught the words that left Maria's mouth.

"Don't worry about her, you just eat whatever you want, okay? I'll be right outside in the balcony." I could imagine a small smile playing on her face, making me roll my eyes.

I marched towards the balcony, mixed feelings clouding my mind as a small headache started to hit me. Gosh, she's already here? Why wasn't I notified? Wait... Maybe, I was? But, if I am, I could've remembered it!

"Why the hell is she here?" I whispered in a shout as I face away from her, looking out in the view before us, both of my arms on the railings. I couldn't let her see my face, and notice that I'm in a turbulence inside my mind.

"What do you mean? I've already told you that last night before you went out with those two girls...." I winced as I remembered how I decided to pick two last night, wondering if it could help me out of the mess I'm in. Still, I kicked them out before I could even close the door of one of  the rooms inside that bar I go to. "...You even told me you'll be picking her up, Nat. But, I've received your phone calls, I couldn't reach you so I decided to do it myself-" Feeling irritated, I faced her with so much confusion and annoyance visible in my face.

"Maria, you can't take initiatives on such things like this! She's mine to think about—she—she's my problem for god's sake!" Mentally, I was taken aback by the things I have said. I wondered if it's my first time telling her something like this, but I chose to not falter. I saw how her eyes widened a little, not ignoring the flash of hurt that ran around it.

"What the fuck, Nat? Since when did it become a problem with me cleaning your dirt? Doing your work? She's yours to think about, but did you see how you handled her earlier? No shit, Romanoff, you yelled at her! Did you even see how startled she was? She's here, somewhere foreign to her and with people she barely knew." I gulped down the saliva on my throat, suddenly finding it hard to talk about and find the right words to stand still and claim my dominant towards her.

"What's been happening to you, Natalia? You're not doing like yourself this past couple of days..." I heard her claimed a long breath before exhaling it out. "If it's about work, tell me and I'll handle it. About your family? Your dad? Tell me and I'll help you, we'll help you. We're not your enemies here, come on. We've come so far together already... I'm not a stranger." With that, a gust of wind passed by me as she walked out the huge sliding door. That was when I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding still.

Am I losing my mind? Maria was right, I am not myself. I just couldn't understand what is happening. Everything feels too much and it angers me how I can't even resolve my own problem.

I turned to catch a glimpse of what moved in my peripheral vision. I watched as the two woman inside the penthouse talk to each other, gazing down, there's was a small plate of chicken nuggets in Y/n's hand, offering it to Maria. A flutter crossed my chest, I couldn't help but to clear my throat as I looked away, trying to take my attention to other things outside. But, even the birds and the skies couldn't compel to the face of an angel right here before me.

Looking back, I saw Y/n looking down now, I frowned, thinking of what they might be talking about. Raising her hand, Maria pat her head, resulting to my frown deepening. After that, she said some words that made Y/n look up with those doe eyed gaze. I held a breathe when Y/n walked towards Maria, closing the distance between them and hugging her.

I started to walk inside, my hands itching to grab something...someone— oh stop it. My feet faltered when I saw Maria raised her arms and reciprocated the intimate gesture. Hell, I don't even remember when I last hugged that woman and she's letting some random girl hug her after meeting for a few hours?

Deciding to stop the bullshit, if you could call it that, I made my way inside the penthouse, I was at a distnce when just in time, they pulled away from each other. Clearing my throat, they both looked at me, Maria stepping back instantly, holding a bowl in her hand.

"Maria, go get Clint on the phone and tell here to deal with New York and let Bucky deal with Budapest. I'm not feeling very well, I'm taking the day off." After that, I turned my gaze towards Y/n who was looking down, picking at her hands. I rolled my eyes mentally, before walking past them— between them. One of my hand automatically took the bowl away from Maria's hold as I marched upstairs towards my room. I could feel her eyes burning holes in the back of my head, but I couldn't careless. It was my money that bought this, and there's so much food there, they could just cook again.

Maybe, a day off is all that I need.

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Y/n's POV:

"Well, I'm gonna go for now. I'll come back later and I'll check on you—do you have a phone? Maybe, I can get your number so it'll be easier for you to ask me if you need something." I looked up at Maria as she started speaking, shaking my head after she finished asking.

"I- uh... I don't have one..." I gulped when she squinted her eyes at me in a way that I don't understand. "But- but, I do have a laptop... I just- I don't have any socials... can I text you through my laptop?" I asked, and it took a moment before she responded.

"No, I uh... Oh! we hand that landline here..." She pointed at the telephone by the kitchen counter that was sitting on the far corner, and smiled slightly, feeling better to see that there's a telephone. That, I could use. "And we also have that somewhere in the living room, don't worry, I'll request Natasha to put one up in your room while we wait to buy you a phone, okay?" I nodded, smiling up at her before I remembered something.

"Oh, do-do you want me to cook you nuggets? Or I-" I was cut of by her.

"Don't worry about it, I'm not that hungry. I should get going now, I'll write down my number for you first... wait." She walked away, and I was left in the kitchen. I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding as I sit on one of the stools she have here. It was so big, everything and everywhere is so big.

The nuggets are great! Does every nuggets here on New York taste like this? Is this some kind of special nuggets? Speaking of nuggets, I look towards where Natasha had disappeared from the corner.

Maybe she's in her room, Maria pointed it out to me earlier, does she want more nuggets? She said she was not feeling very well, maybe I could cook her some more foods? Bring her meds?

"Here." Maria gave me a piece of 1 sheet paper, there were two numbers. "The first one is my number and the second one is Natasha's, just in case she's not here and you need something. And, by the way, if she bothered you don't mind too much about it, she's just- she's just like that." I just nodded along the words she let out, still sitting on the stool so I was looking up at her.

"Would you—should I... uhmmm... Can I bring Natalia more foods? Maybe she needs medicine, or... or anything? I can do it." I asked politely, my hands fumbling around the paper she gave me. I didn't said anything wrong, right? That's what Mama and Dada said, to take care of Natasha, to look after her, to give her anything she needs. Anything she wants.

"Oh, uhh, I don't know about that. She can handle herself. You just make yourself at home, alright? Rest if you need to, I'll be back before you know it." I nodded once again, standing up as I went in for a hug.

She's very welcoming, very kind towards me. I've never met a stranger be this kind to me, it makes me miss home, miss Lucy. I just really need a hug right now and hugging Maria felt right.

Only one of her arms wrapped around me, and I pulled away. "I'm sorry if I kept hugging you—I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable... I just... I really need it." I explained, looking anywhere but her eyes.

"It's fine, don't worry." She pat my head before straightening out her shirt. "I should go now, we wouldn't want a dragon showering me with fire." I giggled at what she said and nodded as she started walking away.

"Take care, Ms. Maria. Thank you so much." I said gratefully, waving my hand at her.

She shook her head and waved back before disappearing into a corner. I sighed as I was left on my own thoughts, what can I do for the rest of the day? Can I watch TV? Natalia is here with me, maybe I could get to know her more? Looking around, I glanced at the clock and saw that it's almost past lunch time. Has she eaten already? Maybe she was hungry that's why she took the nuggets.

Standing up, I walked to the fridge, deciding to see what I could cook for her, or maybe for Maria also for when she get home later. There's so many foods here, all of them are fresh and well restocked, I wonder if it's all new.

Sighing, I stood up and look into nothingness, facing where Natasha had left earlier. Should I go check on her? Will it be okay? I'm just gonna check on her only. Golly, maybe she's sleeping? I suddenly jumped at the sound of thump and a sprained curse coming through the hallway.

Worry filled my head so I quickly closed the fridge and ran to where it was coming from. Turning on the corner, I saw Natasha with a vase broken into pieces around her feet. My eyes widened as I yelp her name.

"Natalia! Are you okay?" I asked as I watched her clutching her feet. She's in the exact corner, was she coming to the kitchen? I didn't hear her footsteps.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... fucking hell!" My eyes widened more and I immediately raised my hand to support her body, but no doubt in my that I would come tumbling around with her if she ever did fell down. She's strong and... big!

"Your feet is bleeding! Golly! Come on, let me help you get to the living." Her hand automatically took a hold of mine while she kept cursing. I just pretended to not hear it, if only I could close my ears but my hands are all full. "What happened to you? Where does it hurt? Golly." I rambled as we walked past the kitchen into the living room where I helped her sit down on the couch, her body almost pulling mine along as she did so.

I immediately stood up straight and ran to the kitchen. "Wait for me." I looked for a clean cloth and found nothing. "Do you have any first aid kit here?!" I yelled gently through the kitchen as I rummaged around.

"By the restroom!" She yelled out with a booming voice and I immediately went to the restroom near. I thankfully quickly found a clean cloth and a box of aid kit beside it, taking it in my hands I immediately ran back, putting it on her feet before I went back again to the kitchen to get a big bowl and then filled it with water.

"Just wait for me, Natalia!" I said in a hurry. I was already panicking, especially after seeing the blood stream going to the floor of her living room.

Golly, hurry up, Y/n!

Soon enough, I was sitting by her feet, my leg folded so I was practically sitting on my ankles. The first thing I did was to stop the bleeding, and then after that I cleaned it with the things available inside the kit for cleaning the wounds along with my bowl of water. She was quiet the whole time, if it were me, I would be crying. The wound is not that big but it is deep, but at the same time there were no stitcher needed.

Good thing Lucy taught me many things.

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3rd Person's POV:

As silence enveloped the surrounding of Natasha's living room, only the sound of Y/n's hand tending her foot was heard. The younger girl was too focused on mending what was hurt to notice the pair of green forest eyes gazing at her. The bumps running along Natasha's skin at the feeling her soft and gentle touch.

She's never been handled like this before, with so much care, so much... Gosh, she's thinking too much once again. Y/n's hand gracefully worked through helping Natasha's wound, while Natasha almost forgot what happened to her already.

"Uhmm..." Y/n cleared her throat, taking Natasha out of the trance she was in. "Would you... would you like something to eat?" Y/n asked, so soft that Natasha could possibly sleep at the sound of it. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" Y/n rambled as she rolled the gauze around Natasha's foot.

There was a moment of silence, Y/n could feel herself getting nervous, already wishing to take back what she said. Suddenly, Natasha ask, "Where did you learn that?"

"Lucy—she's my... uhm... my caregiver. She's been with me since I was a baby. She uh... she thought me many things, including this." Y/n said and Natasha couldn't help but hear the longingness lacing through her voice. There was a certain sadness that Natasha couldn't pinpoint. But, she chose to not ask anything, feeling that it might be a sensitive topic.

"Ahhhh... Lucille, right?" Y/n's head snapped up at her, her eyes filled with wonder. Their face was inches far away from each other as Natasha was leaning forward.

"You know her?" Y/n asked before looking down, as if shying away from Natasha's deep gaze.

"Yeah, I do. Been so long since I last talked to her... I was maybe... 8 or 10 above I don't know." There was an anomaly in Natasha's voice, a certain softness as she shared something she didn't know she would share. It was a very long time, she's not usually like this, sharing something to someone. But, it felt right as those words automatically came out her mouth.

Y/n was silent, only nodding her head as a reply but Natasha could see the gears working through her head. "Aren't you hot?" Natasha blurted, suddenly.

"Hmm?" Y/n asked, looking up while holding Natasha's foot.

Natasha gazes at the girl's face, from how her eyebrows were raised in question and how her eyes circled in wonder. Her pink mouth agape as her nose widens a little in every breath. "You're wearing a sweater and pants. You're all covered up." Natasha said, her eyes focused on Y/n's lips.

Y/n is not an idiot, she sensed how Natasha's eyes raked her face, shying away, she looked down, deciding to finish mending her feet. "I'm uh... no, I'm fine." Now, Natasha observed that there was an edge on her voice, as if wanting to drop the topic down.

Full of wonder, Natasha thought. She's mysterious but at the same time she's an open book, full of words that Natasha is yet to dicover. She could only wonder what lies beneath the cover.

"There. All done. Stay here, I'll clean the vase-would you like something first? Water?..." Y/n started cleaning up the mess she made while mending Natasha's foot. "Anything?" Looking up to see Natasha's burning gaze still on her.

"No. No, nothing..." Y/n nodded and said a small 'okay', standing up with the things in her hand.

"If you need me just call out, okay? You just stay here and don't put any pressure on that, it might start bleeding." Y/n explained before disappearing into the kitchen.

Natasha was left in her own thoughts, her eyes not leaving the vacant space where the young girl had disappeared. What the hell just happened? There were no awkwardness around them, maybe Y/n's shying away, but beyond that it was... comfortable. Natasha felt comfortable... she felt fuzzy, as if those splitting moments were merely a dream.

Is she dreaming?

She could hear Y/n walking around behind her, then the sound of the glass being picked up. It was as if all her senses was focused on the girl, and she let it be as she rest on the sofa.

Before she knew it, she was already napping on her million dollar couch, her heart beating in a soft beat for the first time as her mind was somehow at peace while she uses the soft and gentle movement of the girl as a music to fall asleep on.

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Author's Note: Here you go, everyone! Hope I could finish the next one already, mwehehehehe, thank you so much! and so sorryyyy for making you wait. (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

[luveline]

Hi, I’ve never sent a request before so forgive me if this sounds weird I’m still learning how to use Tumblr lol but what if Eddie and reader go to Roan’s school for parent-teacher conference and her teacher shows them something Roan wrote or made expressing how much she loves her new mom and her new little family🩷 and reader cries from how happy and loved Roan and Eddie make her feel🥹

ty for ur request, it doesn't sound weird at all! eddie and roan —you and eddie attend roan's PT conference, stepmother!reader, 1.2k

You hide from the biting winter wind in Eddie's side. “Is it supposed to be this cold?” you ask. 

“You sound surprised. It's December,” he says, though he puts his arm over your shoulders to cover as much of you as he can. “I told you to wear a coat.” 

“The coat ruins my outfit,” you say. 

“You being cold ruins the outfit.” He nods towards the step up into the school building. “You could say the outfit ruins what's underneath–” 

“What's wrong with you?”  

“An appreciation for my wife?” 

“Stop saying that, you're confusing people. Steve asked me last night if we got married in private–” 

“You're always talking to Steve,” Eddie complains, “he doesn't even call me anymore, he just wants to talk to you.” 

He'd called to ask if he was still babysitting, actually, but Eddie wouldn't know that because he and Roan had been playing monsters at the time, speaking to each other in gruff tones while they made sandwiches for dinner. 

“You have a problem.” 

Eddie can't decide whether to bicker or dote, squeezing you tightly, a promise about new problems lost to the growing ruckus of the elementary school after hours. Some parents have brought their children, but the majority stand chatting in lines to see the teachers. You and Eddie have come through the main entrance of the building rather than the side door where Roan enters, and the walk to Mrs. Lundy's room is longer than usual, though far from unpleasant. Light shines through the windows where a rainbow of creatures have been painted, leaving glowing shapes of apricot, cerulean, and lilac on your skin as you pass. 

“You're like a Christmas tree,” Eddie says. 

“I just need some tinsel.” You point at the decorations hanging from Mrs. Lundy's doorway. “Like that.” 

“You want some tinsel? I'll get you some tinsel, baby, just give me a minute. And maybe distract her.” 

You refuse to help him steal from Mrs. Lundy, and spend your time in line waiting with his hands held firmly in yours to prohibit any theft. Eddie moans about being jailed but is otherwise content. He quite likes it, actually, rearranging your fingers to stroke your knuckles. 

Mrs. Lundy is smiling, happy to see you and brag about your girl. She starts with Roan's general education, her behaviour, her grades, though this young she doesn't have grades so much as milestones. Roan is smart but no wizz kid (not that you care), she's kind (but not always good at sharing), she's loud, and rambunctious, a great artist, and she's very, very happy. 

“She talks about your wedding all the time. Every day. She tells us she's going to be the flower girl, and the best man, and that she has a beautiful dress.” Mrs. Lundy beams. “She's walking on sunshine.” The teacher's smile turns soft, almost wistful. “Well, she's Roan. You know what she's like better than I do.” 

Your cheeks ache with pride. 

“She's a good kid,” Eddie says. 

“Yes!” Mrs. Lundy reaches across the desk for a turquoise-coloured folder. “There was actually something I wanted to share with you both… You know we have creative writing assignments, and obviously we help them with making real sentences, but what she has to say is very much of her own volition.” 

Mrs. Lundy pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and puts it down in front of your hands. “The prompt was what makes you happy,” she says. 

The first sentence is simple. 

My mommy. 

A drawing of you decorates the page above the lines, so clearly you, your smile wide and pink. 

My mommy is kind and I love her. Dad sayd the wedding is speshul becase he loves her, but she will be my mom. She makes me so happy. Mommy says she loves me all of the time, and she brushus my hair. My best part of the day is when Y/N comes home and hugs me. We are so happy, and Lucky gets dinner. I love my dad too, and Uncle Wayn. 

Her spelling errors have been corrected in green pen, and her backwards letters are written forwards for her to copy. You read the entire paragraph in a blur, thinking about how long it must've taken her to get it all down, nearly an entire page in her bubbly handwriting, big letters running off of the page. 

“Needless to say,” Mrs. Lundy says, “that most children write about their families, or their pets, or their toys. But Roan was extremely focused on the word love. She's clearly going home to a loving home every night.” Mrs. Lundy smiles at Eddie. You nearly miss it, reading the paragraph again, and then a third time. 

“Can I take this?” you ask, clearing your throat, tears brewed and bobbing on your waterline, desperate to be shed. “Is that okay?” 

Eddie laughs and elbows you in the arm. “Come on, it's hardly news.” 

You wipe your eyes before you can cry in front of them both. “I'm sorry, just– can I?” 

Mrs. Lundy beams again, emphasising the well-worn smile lines at the corners of her lips and creasing beside her eyes. 

You hold it together well for a little while. Eddie talks over your wobbly silence, a hand on your shoulder, assuring Mrs. Lundy that you're all, in fact, very happy, and he's just glad that Roan is being a good student and friend to her classmates. Mrs. Lundy's kindness and Roan's love letter to you has knocked you entirely off kilter, and you're crying before you've reached the car. They're happy tears. 

“Come on,” Eddie says, taking the paper you've folded carefully from your fingers as they clench. “She's said nicer to you in person.” 

And sure she has. Roan loves hitting you with the saccharine when you're not expecting it. Drying her hair after bath time, totally distracted, she'll kiss your cheek and say, “You're so pretty.” She sprinkles I love you's wherever they'll fit like her dad does, and she shows it with little gifts and cuddles and invitations. Y/N, do you want to have a fashion show with me? Y/N, can we have ice cream in bed? Can I do your hair, please, mommy? 

“It's different. It's different,” you insist, scrambling to find the words. “She's…” You rub your eyes. Your makeup is smudging, but you can't help it. “I don't even know what to say.” 

Eddie shrugs. Lean shoulders, a loving arm behind your back, the car in sight but getting no closer, he comforts you in the middle of the parking lot while the passing headlights kiss your shoes. “You know how much she loves you, babe. This is a good thing, right? You're not upset?” 

“Not upset,” you clarify. 

“Okay, good. Is this a bad time for me to say that I am profoundly jealous right now? I used to get all the drawings and cards, I used to get Mother's day gifts. I have a mother's day card up in the attic… might have to get it out,” —he kisses your cheek— “just to cope.” 

You laugh through a sniffle. “Let's go get it,” you say. 

He presses Roan's assignment back into your hand. “You can keep that one, but don't get it out around me. I'm serious.” 

[winchesterwild78]

The Hunter pt 1

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (together), Sam Winchester, Jodie Mills, Bobby Singer x Reader (Uncle/Niece)

Warnings: mention of death, small age gap, mutual pining, language, fluff

A/N: I’ve been working on getting some stories out and it’s driving me crazy. I’m turning this one into a series, probably short(ish), not 100% yet. This story came to me after starting Supernatural again. We all know how Dean feels about relationships, but let’s just pretend he finally gave in. 😀 

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. It’s based on characters from Supernatural, but doesn’t follow the timeline completely. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

You had lived with your Uncle Bobby since his wife, Karen died. Your parents were hunters and were killed on a hunt not long after Karen died. Bobby didn’t want you to stay in a foster home, so he took you in. You were the daughter of his brother, so it only seemed right. 

Living with Bobby was easy. He stayed out of your hair and you stayed out of his. You were almost 18 years old when you moved in, so he didn’t have too many rules. The rules he gave you were pretty easy to follow: Always carry your gun/knife with you, keep your cell phone on you at all times, home by midnight, and above all else stay the hell away from Dean Winchester. 

You thought the last rule was hilarious. You of course knew who the Winchesters were. Their dad, John, had been on a few hunts with your parents. From what you knew Dean was about a year older than you and Sam was about 3 years younger. You hadn’t officially met them, so you weren’t sure why your Uncle Bobby had that specific rule. 

On the eve of your 21st birthday you went out with some friends from work. Bobby was tough around the edges, but even before you moved in with him he always made your birthday special. He was there for every birthday you’d had. 

When you arrived home from a night out you noticed a 1967 Impala in the driveway. It was gorgeous. As you approached the car you noticed it was well taken care of and you couldn’t help but stare. All black with black leather interior, and the backseat was pretty big too. You smiled at the thought of what kind of trouble you could get into in the backseat. 

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t see the man approaching you. “Like what you see sweetheart?” You jumped, startled at the voice. You looked up and saw a tall, broad, very handsome, green eyed man standing in front of you. “Oh, yeah. She’s beautiful. Is she yours?” “I wish, she’s my dad’s. Dean Winchester, and you are?” He extended his large hand towards you to shake your hand. 

You slid your hand in his and felt his firm hands grip yours slightly, “Um, I’m Y/N, I’m Bobby’s niece. Nice to meet you Dean.” You shook his hand but an urge inside you made you want to pull him in that backseat and let him do whatever he wanted to you. 

He smiled at you and took a step closer, “Oh, so you’re the birthday girl.” His breath brushed across your ear and neck as he whispered into your ear. A shiver went through your body. He smirked at the sight of it. You blushed and shook your head. “How did you know?” “Bobby had called dad about something he wanted to give you. We were in the area so we came in a day early. I think we’re crashing here tonight.” 

Inside your head was screaming at you to kiss him and take him right there. Now you understand why Bobby had the rule about him. You’d known him less than 5 minutes and you were willing to jump in bed with him. Was he a witch?! 

A few minutes later a taller man came out, and Dean introduced him as his baby brother, Sam. You smiled and shook his hand. He was sweet, and not as forward as Dean. This must be why Bobby didn’t have any rules about him, you laughed when you thought about it. 

It was getting late so the three of you went back into the house. “Hey, Uncle Bobby, I’m back.” You announced as you walked in. Bobby came around the corner and hugged you. “Glad to hear it kiddo. Did you have a good time?” You shook your head yes. 

There was another man standing next to Bobby. You extended your hand, “You must be Mr. Winchester. Uncle Bobby has told me so much about you and your boys.” You nodded in their direction. “Yes, you can call me John, and Bobby has told me so much about you too, Y/N. Glad he has someone around here to keep him out of trouble.” You both laughed as Bobby glared, “Idjit.” 

The five of you sat in Bobby’s living room chatting and having a good time. It was late and you were tired. As you stood up Dean jumped up too. John and Bobby looked at him and then at each other. You smiled at Dean then turned to everyone. “Well gentlemen, I’m beat. I’m heading to bed. See you all tomorrow. Good night.” Everyone said good night as you climbed the stairs you took one more look at Dean who was watching you go. You smiled softly at him until he was out of sight. 

“Don’t even think about it, Dean”, John practically growled. Dean looked at his father, jaw on the ground. “What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb with us boy, we saw how you looked at her. She’s still a kid, and you’re 22.” “I wasn’t thinking anything, besides 21 isn’t a kid anymore.” Bobby stood up and stepped closer, “Look here Dean, leave her be. She’s too sweet to get dragged around by you. We know how you are with the ladies.” 

Dean was genuinely hurt by the insinuation he would purposely hurt you. Dean threw his hands up in defeat. “Whatever guys. I’m heading to bed. Bobby, are you okay with me crashing in the guestroom or do I need to sleep outside?” Bobby rolled his eyes and Dean walked up the stairs. 

At the top of the stairs he saw the bathroom light on and the door cracked a bit. As he walked by he looked in and saw you brushing your teeth. He smiled because you looked rabid with all the toothpaste foam coming out of your mouth. 

He walked to the guest room and started to dig out his stuff for bed. He usually slept in his boxers, but since you were there he was going to wear his sleep shorts. “Shit!” You heard coming from the room as you walked past. You knocked softly on the door. When the door opened you saw Dean standing there without his shirt on. 

Your brain stopped working and you stood there blinking at him. It was like your eyes were snapping pictures for later. “Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence between you two. “Um, yeah, are you okay? I heard you yell “shit” when I was walking by.” “Yeah, I just realized I forgot my sleep shorts.” He ran his fingers through his gorgeous light brown hair. “Oh, okay. Well maybe Uncle Bobby has something you could borrow.” 

Dean chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.” “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Dean.” “Good night, sweetheart.” Your heart fluttered every time he called you that. You weren’t sure why, but a warmth also spread through your body. No! Uncle Bobby said absolutely no relationship with Dean! Stay away from him! 

You walked away with a slight smirk on your face and a tinge of red on your cheeks. Dean watched you as you disappeared in your room. When he turned to head towards the bathroom Sam was standing there. “Dude, what are you doing? Dad and Bobby both said to stay away from her.” “I’m not doing anything, Sammy. She knocked on the door and we chatted. That was it.” “Uh huh, sure Dean. I know when you’re into a girl. Just please stay away from her. She’s too sweet to be hurt by you. Mister “I don’t do relationships.”” 

“Whatever Sammy. I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” Dean went to the bathroom to get ready for bed and went back to the guest room. He was completely aware you were on the opposite side of the wall. He stripped down to his boxers and crawled in the bed. 

Bobby always had the best mattresses and Dean loved staying there. As he layed in the bed he smiled at the thought of you and your rabid looking mouth while brushing your teeth, or the faint pink in your cheeks when you got embarrassed. He sighed deeply. He knew he wasn't good for you. Sam was right, he didn’t do relationships. He did one night stands and left a trail of broken hearts. He knew you deserved better. 

You laid in your bed, your mind racing. He was a gorgeous man. One you could see yourself with. The only problem was Bobby. You loved your Uncle, and trusted him. If he said Dean was bad news, then maybe he was. When he touched you though, you felt it through your body. You couldn’t believe how your body responded to him when you saw him without his shirt. You weren’t a virgin, but damn you’d never been with anyone who looked like him. You stared at your ceiling wondering what he was doing on the other side of the wall, and what he was wearing in that big, lonely bed, all by himself. You shook your head trying to rid it of those thoughts and images. 

Dammit you had to get those thoughts out of your head. They were staying a few days and you can’t drool over him the whole time he’s here. You rolled on your side and sighed. Sleep finally washed over you and you dreamed of Dean Winchester for the first time.

You woke up around 9am to the smell of coffee and bacon. You walked downstairs to see Bobby had put up a birthday banner and streamers in the kitchen. When you walked in you smiled. “Happy Birthday, kiddo!” Bobby walked over and hugged you, kissing the top of your head. “She’s not a kiddo anymore, Bobby. She can drink now.” John said as he gave you a side hug. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

You smiled and thanked them. Sam stood up and hugged you too, saying Happy birthday before he sat back down. Dean stood at the stove cooking and looked over at you. “Hey, birthday girl! Hope you’re hungry. I’m making bacon, eggs, hash browns, and toast. There’s coffee too.” “Thanks, Dean. That’s so sweet of you.” You smiled and walked over to the stove, “Need any help?” “Nope, I’ve got it, you go sit down and relax.” 

You nodded and smiled at Dean. He smiled back and bit his lip slightly. Sam, Bobby and John all exchanged looks. You sat down at the table with a cup of coffee. “So, what’s your plans today? Are you going out with your friends and boyfriend?” Bobby asked you. Dean’s head spun around at the mention of a boyfriend. “Nope, I hung out with my friends last night, and Alex and I broke up about a week ago. He was an ass, tried to force me into his backseat, so I broke his nose and kicked his ass.” Everyone laughed, “That’s my girl.” Bobby said proudly. 

Dean let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding when you said you had broken up with your boyfriend. “I figured I’d spend the day with you guys.” You smiled over your coffee cup. “Breakfast is ready, ladies first.” Dean smiled as he handed you a plate. “Thanks Dean, this looks amazing.”

You grabbed a little of everything and sat down at the table. Everyone else grabbed a plate and as Dean was about to sit next to you, Bobby took the seat. Dean shook his head and sat across from you. Bobby kept glaring at Dean. You cleared your throat, “Dean, this is delicious. Thank you again for cooking breakfast.” You smiled at him. “You’re welcome sweetheart, anything for the birthday girl.” He smirked at you. John kicked him under the table and Bobby was staring daggers through him. 

After you finished eating you stood up to put your plate in the sink. Dean instinctively stood too. Bobby and John looked at each other and then back at Dean. Dean sat back down. “Well guys, I’m going to go shower. I’ll be back in a little bit. Bobby stood up, “Okay, take your time.” He kissed your head and you left the room. 

Before you got too far away you heard Bobby and John lay into Dean. “Dean, we told you to stay the hell away from her. What’s gotten into you? Telling her anything for her, standing when she stands. You’re acting like a lovesick teenager.” “Look Bobby, I know you love her and want to protect her, but seriously? Why do you hate the idea of me being with her? She’s 21 and I’m 22. It’s not that big of an age difference. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.” 

“Dean, I know you mean well, son, but you have a history of sleeping with women and leaving them. I don’t want that for her. She deserves better than that.” “Oh, now I get it, you think she deserves better than ME!” Dean growled. “Dean, that’s not what I meant.” Bobby said. “Well, you know what, maybe she does deserve better than me! Maybe all of you would be better off without me in your lives.” Dean yelled and slammed his fist on the table. You jumped and climbed the stairs. 

Dean left the kitchen and walked upstairs to his room and slammed the door. You were still in your room getting stuff ready for your shower. You heard him in the room. He was mad and cursing Bobby and his dad. You walked out of your room towards the shower. You stopped outside his room and took a deep breath, then knocked. 

“What?!” Dean yelled as he swung open the door. “Oh, sorry, Y/N. I didn’t realize it was you.” “You looked at Dean and could see so much hurt in his green eyes. It broke your heart. “Dean, thank you again for making breakfast. That was really sweet of you.” Dean smiled, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” There it was again, “sweetheart”. It had your thighs clenching together. 

You’re not sure what came over you, but a surge of courage ran through your body and you stepped closer to Dean. He stepped closer to you and put his hands on your waist. Your heart was racing, but you stepped closer and now your hot breath was mingling with his. His hand gently brushed your face and he cupped your cheek. You leaned forward, stopping halfway. Dean leaned the rest of the way and your lips lightly brushed against his. He pulled you closer and his lips captured yours. Moans left both of you as his hand traveled to your hair, pulling you closer.

Your hands instinctively went around his neck. Dean’s tongue ran across your lips asking for entrance. You parted your lips slightly and Dean’s tongue plunged in and fought your tongue for dominance. The kiss seemed to last for hours. Neither one of you wanted to pull away. Finally the need for air became overwhelming and you both parted. Pants filled the air as the two of you took in the needed air. 

Your lips were on fire and you could feel the slick between your legs. You noticed Dean’s not so little problem in his jeans and you bit your lip. “Wow, sweetheart. That was unexpected, good, but unexpected.” You blushed a little. “Yeah, sorry if I overstepped. I’ve just been dying to kiss you, Dean.” “Don’t be sorry, I’ve been dying to kiss you too.” 

He smiled and pulled you back flush to his body. “Maybe we can do it again.” He leaned down and kissed your lips softly. “Dean, I need to go shower. I’ll be back soon.” You kissed his lips again and walked away. 

Dean ran his hands through his hair. He knew he was in trouble, and not just with his dad and Bobby. That kiss set his soul on fire, and you consumed his every thought. Shit! What am I going to do? That kiss was amazing, but Bobby and Dad told me to stay away. How can I? Her lips, her smile, her body. God! It’s driving me insane.

You climbed in the shower once it was hot enough and let the water wash over you like a warm blanket. You just kissed Dean. Bobby and his dad were against any type of relationship, but how could you not. He was so sweet, and that kiss was amazing. Besides, you were 21 and could date whoever you wanted. 

Dean sat on his bed and ran his fingers through his hair. Shit! Dad and Bobby were adamant about not doing anything with her, but man that kiss. Ugh! He was lost in thought when Sam stepped in the room. “Hey, Dean. Earth to Dean!” “Oh hey, Sammy. What’s up?” “What’s up with you, I called your name like 5 times.” “I screwed up Sammy. I kissed Y/N and it was amazing.” “Dude, you heard Dad and Bobby! They are going to kick your ass.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Sam, what am I going to do? I really like her, I’m drawn to her and attracted to her.” “Dean, I don’t know what to tell you. You just don’t do relationships. I don’t blame you. It’s hard to maintain one with what we do.” “Yeah, but Sam she’s in the life too. Maybe it won’t be hard.” Sam shrugged, “You still have to convince Dad and Bobby.”

Dean shook his head. He knew what Sam was saying was true, but he needed you. Sam left the room and headed back downstairs. You came out of the bathroom, dressed but your hair still wet. You passed Dean’s room and saw him sitting on the bed.

Stepping in the room you walked up to him. Dean lifted his head and smiled. “How was your shower, sweetheart.” You blushed, “It was good. I couldn’t wait to get out so I could do this again.” You leaned down and kissed his lips. He stood, not letting your lips fall from his and deepened the kiss. You felt his hands roam over your body and you moaned. 

“Dean, I need you.” You whispered. “I know sweetheart, me too. We have to be patient.” You groaned and pulled back. “I don’t understand why Bobby and your Dad are so against this. We’re both adults and can make these decisions without them.” Dean pulled you closer, “I know, but we have to be smart about this. We will figure it out.” Dean kissed your forehead and you nodded. 

You walked to your bedroom and made your bed. A few minutes later Bobby was at your door. “I can’t believe you’re an adult, Y/N. Your parents would be so proud of you, I’m so proud of you.” He crossed the room and hugged you tight. “Uncle Bobby, I can’t breathe.” You both laughed. “Hey, Uncle Bobby, can I ask you something?” “Sure, kiddo, what’s up?” “Why don’t you want me to have anything to do with Dean?” You asked nervously. 

Bobby sighed, “Look, he’s a great kid, an amazing hunter, but he doesn’t have relationships. He sleeps with a woman and leaves her the next day. I don’t want that for you.” Your heart ached hearing that Dean slept around. You weren’t sure why you felt that way, but you couldn’t shake it. “What if he was willing to change?” Bobby took your hand, “Oh baby girl, I wish I could say he could, but I can’t. If he changed then maybe I’d be okay with you two being together. I just don’t want to see you hurt.” 

You sighed. You knew he was only looking out for you. “Look, let’s focus on your birthday. What do you want to do today?” Bobby said with a smile. “Honestly, I’d like to work more on my car with you if that’s okay.” “Sure, let’s see if we can get the others to help out. They are good with cars.” You nodded enthusiastically. Bobby stood up and so did you. He hugged you tightly, “I’m just trying to protect you from getting your heart broken.” “I know, I appreciate it, but you know you can’t protect me forever.” “I know, and that kills me.” You hugged him one last time before you two walked into the hallway. 

Dean was walking out of his room and you made eye contact. He looked hurt. Did he hear what Bobby said to you? “Hey Dean, want to help us with Y/N’s car today? She’s rebuilding that old mustang and it’s almost done.” “Sure, I can help.” Dean sounded different. Almost small. Bobby walked around and headed back downstairs. 

“Hey, Dean, are you okay?” You touched his arm and he stopped and turned towards you. “Yeah, um, I just have a lot on my mind.” He moved his arm away from you. “Dean?” He turned back to face you, “What Y/N?” “Are you sure you’re okay? Something seems wrong.” Dean’s jaw clenched, “No! I’m not. You know what, this (he motioned between the two of you) isn’t going to work out. You’re too young for me and I can’t be tied down with a relationship. I like to have fun and being with one girl isn’t fun to me.” He growled.

You flinched at his sudden change in tone towards you. “Okay, I’m sorry.” You whispered. Dean huffed and walked away. You turned back towards your room and closed the door before the tears fell. 

You sat on your bed and silently cried. Dean must have heard Bobby, but why would he take it out on you? You were in your room crying for a few minutes before you were able to pull yourself together. Quickly wiping the tears away, you stood and walked downstairs. 

Bobby was the first to see you and knew you had been crying. John saw you next and shot a look at Bobby and then Dean. Dean looked up and you thought you saw a hint of regret in his eyes, but they quickly turned emotionless. Bobby walked over to you, “Are you okay?” “Yeah, just sad. I miss mom and dad.” You weren’t lying, but that wasn’t the real reason you were crying. Bobby hugged you, “Me too, kiddo.”

“Okay, so who’s helping with my car?” You tried to change the subject. “I’m ready when you are. I’ll grab my keys and head over to the garage. I’ll meet you guys there in a few.” You grabbed your keys and headed out the door. Bobby’s land was filled with cars, scrap, and a huge garage where your car was. You and Bobby started to fix it up shortly after you arrived and you found it sitting in pretty good condition. Bobby said it wouldn’t be hard to get it up and running, and you figured it would be therapeutic for both of you to work on it together. 

You walked in the garage and uncovered your car. You took a step back looking at her. “She’s beautiful.” You heard Dean say behind you. You turned and looked at him, regret in his eyes. “Thank you, Dean.” Dean stepped closer to you, “Hey, can we talk?” “Unless it’s about the car, I think you said everything you needed to say to me upstairs.” 

Dean started to step closer and you backed away, “Dean, I get it. You like your freedom and a different girl every night. Maybe you thought you could screw me and then leave. I was stupid enough to actually think I would end up in your bed, in your life but thank you. Thank you for saving me from that. Bobby and your Dad were right, you aren’t good for me. Now if you’re going to help with my car, help. If you want to talk about anything else, there’s the door.” 

Dean’s jaw clenched. He did this, he can’t be mad at you. He pushed you away, now you’re doing what you can to protect your heart. “Fine! You know what, I’m not going to sit here another damn minute and listen to you, Bobby or my Dad tell me what a fuck up I am. Tell my dad I’m going to the bar.” 

He stormed out of the garage and you leaned against the workbench. Your heart was broken. You knew he was going to get drunk and pick up a woman. You were lost in thought when Sam, Bobby and John walked in. “Hey, Y/N, where did Dean go?” John asked, looking around. “Oh, um, he said he needed to run into town.” You couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces if you told them Dean went to the bar. They’d know something was wrong. 

The day passed quickly and your car was up and running. You were beyond thrilled. Sam and John definitely helped work their magic and your car was purring like the day she rolled out of the assembly line. You asked Sam if he wanted to take a ride into town with you, and he jumped in.

“You kids have fun, and be safe.” Bobby said as he closed your door. “Hey, pick up whatever you want for dinner too.” Bobby handed you some money. “Thanks Bobby, see you shortly.” You said as you hugged him. 

As you drove towards town Sam was grinning ear to ear. “She sounds good, Y/N.” “Yeah, thanks to you and your dad.” Sam nodded and looked out the window. “So, what happened to Dean? He told me he was coming outside to help with the car and then he was gone.” Sam asked, breaking the silence.

“Um, well honestly we got into an argument and he left, he said he was going to the bar. I didn’t want to say anything to your Dad or Bobby.” Sam looked at you, “What were you two arguing about?” “I kissed him, he kissed me back. We were stealing kisses when we could. I guess he heard Bobby talking to me today. I asked Bobby why he was so against me being with Dean and he told me about Dean picking up different women and sleeping around. How he doesn’t do relationships. If I’m being honest it kinda stung knowing Dean slept around.” 

“That still doesn’t explain why he got so mad at you, he knows how he is and is often proud of it.” “Yeah, I don’t know. He told me we wouldn’t work out, that I was too young for him and he didn’t do relationships. When he came into the garage he wanted to talk and I shot him down. I don’t know Sam, maybe I should have heard him out.” You sighed. Sam took your hand and gave you a little squeeze, “No, you had every right to be upset and not hear what he had to say.” “Thanks Sammy.”

You drove around a little longer and pulled into the local bar and grill. Sam looked at you confused. “They have the best food. We can go in, we just can’t get alcohol. Come on, let’s get some dinner. I’m assuming you know what your Dad and Dean like to eat.” Sam nodded. 

When you walked in, a middle aged woman walked over to you and gave you a hug. “Hey Y/N, Happy Birthday! Figured I’d see you today. Who’s this handsome young man with you?” She looked at Sam who was turning bright red. “Hey Cindy, this is Sam. His dad is friends with Uncle Bobby. They are in town for a few days and I wanted to bring him out to show him around.” She smiled and nudged you, “He’s a tall, handsome one, ain't he?” She winked at you. “Cindy, we are just friends.” You laughed. 

She took you two over to a booth and you sat across from Sam. Scanning the room you noticed a man at the bar with his back to you. From behind it looked like Dean. Surely it wasn’t. Sam followed your eyes to the bar and then sighed deeply. “It’s Dean, isn’t it?” You asked. Sam nodded. “Dad is going to be pissed he’s drinking right now.” 

Sam got up and walked over to the bar while you sat in the booth. Dean looked over his shoulder towards you and scoffed. Sam walked back over looking defeated. “Is everything okay, Sam?” “No, Dean is already drunk and he’s being a dick. I wouldn’t go over there if I were you.”

When Cindy came back you placed your to-go orders and sat waiting. The whole time your eyes were on Dean. He had downed at least 3 glasses of whiskey while you sat there. You had had enough and stood up. Sam grabbed your arm, “I’m telling you, Y/N. Dean can be an absolute dick when he’s hurting and drunk, just please let it go.” 

“I’ll be fine Sam.” You shrugged off his arm and walked over to the bar. The bartender Jacob noticed you and walked over. “Hey girl, Happy Birthday!” He came around the bar and pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey Jacob. Thanks!” “Hey, you can finally order something from the big kid menu.” He teased you. You playfully slapped his arm. 

Dean was watching the interaction and you could see his body stiffen. “So, I heard you beat up Alex and broke up with him.” Jacob laughed. “Yeah, the guy was an ass. Tried to force me in his backseat.” “He’s a dick and you’re better off without him. So, what brings you here today? Want me to make you something?” “As much as I would love that, I have to drive. I’m just here picking up food. You see that guy over there?” You pointed towards Sam. “Yeah, the tall, handsome one.” Jacob said. You laughed, “yeah, well him, his dad, and Uncle Bobby helped me get my car up and running. So I took her for a drive.” 

“Oooh, and you brought the handsome one over there with you?” “He’s just a friend, Jacob. Besides, I had my eye on his older brother, but I don’t think that’s going to work out.” You glanced up at Dean and watched his body language shift a little. “That’s a bummer, cause if he’s that good looking I can’t imagine what his brother looks like.”

“Yeah, his older brother is something to behold.” You knew Dean was listening to you. “He’s just a little shorter than Sam, broad shoulders, a toned chest, his body is sunkissed and lightly dusted with freckles, piercing green eyes, and soft pouty lips. His legs are slightly bowed, thick thighs you could ride for days, calloused hands, and he definitely is packing.” Jacob was fanning himself and you saw Dean smirk. “Damn girl, point me in the direction of that man, ASAP.” You laughed, you’re not his type, Jacob. Sorry.” 

“So why are you here and not riding that man until you both see stars?” “We had a disagreement and I, being stubborn, refused to listen to him. I wish I could talk to him and tell him I’m ready to listen.” “So tell him? Girl, if that man is as gorgeous as you say he is, then you should tell him.” “Maybe, the night is still young.” 

Dean lifted his hand up to get Jacob’s attention. You saw Jacob pouring Dean a cup of coffee. Jacob came back over to you, “Now that man, mmm I’d give my left hand for one hour with him. He looks like he’s been carved by Greek gods. I don’t know what way he swings though. He’s turned down everyone that approached him. I asked him why, and he said he’s got someone special at home.” 

You smiled at the thought of Dean turning down women as they approached him, and him telling Jacob he had someone special at home. You looked at Jacob and winked then walked over to Dean.

“Hey there handsome, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” You giggled. Dean looked up at you and smirked. Sam was holding his breath across the room. “That's the best you got, sweetheart?” “Nope, how about, I lost my number, can I have yours?” You giggled and Dean smirked again. 

You touched his arm, “Dean, I am so sorry. I should have let you talk to me. I was hurt and just so disappointed. I really thought we might have something, then you said what you said and I was just sad.” “No, sweetheart, it’s me who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or taken any of that shit out on you. Come here.” Dean pulled you into a tight hug and pulled back. “Can I kiss you again?” No words were needed, you leaned forward and his lips captured yours in a heated kiss. Jacob was standing there with his jaw on the ground. 

When the two of you finally pulled away, Dean paid his tab and walked over to the booth where Sam was. Jacob shot you a smile and a thumbs up. Dean put his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. Cindy returned not long after that with your food order. “Oh and Y/N, I put a whole pie in there for you for your birthday. It’s on the house. Happy Birthday again!” “Thank you Cindy, see you later.” “Wait, you like pie?” Dean asked excitedly. “Yeah, who doesn’t?” You laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, you are definitely a girl after my own heart. 

Part 2

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

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@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2

[katz-chow]

inspired by the post you made of having a child by your hip and then him walking in and going to kiss his "pretty girls"

So, here this, Simon Riley, bad mood, and tired, just came from base to his home, his wife and daughter in the kitchen, unaware. He was going to be grumpy all night long when he heard the babbles from his baby daughter, his wife trying to teach her how to say 'mum' after the kid said 'dada' first.

Bare with me, make it extra fluffy, I'm taking it so fluffy it roots your teeth from how cute it is. The dream he never knew would happen, was now in front of him.

anyway, you'll probs get a smut req from me after this one

a/n: i did not see this until it was like an hour before i wrote and posted this. my bad, man.

warnings: fem!reader, baby, stressed out simon, fluff, domestic, maternity leave, what a family man

Simon was not a stranger to stress and aching muscles, it came almost like sleep to an already dying body. He saw himself as that whenever it got quiet and lonely. Thankfully, nowadays he finds himself in the comfort and joy of people that enjoy his company to any extent. So this stress came in a familiar yet unexpected, especially when it came in a form of 12 hours of office work and not dirt, grime, and blood. Also unusual is how this tsunami toppled him down, so close to the place he called home, in a neighborhood where only old people find themselves retiring to and grand kids running along the street.

He pulled up to the light of his home, which seemed unchanged to when he left the same house earlier that day, completely with the total darkness that consumed the sky. Keys in one hand and a lunch box in the other, he unlocked the front door and was met with the warm glow of lamp lights. The smell of dinner drifted in the air, inviting him into bliss and heat, compared to the cold and damp night outside.

One lock clicked, the other one followed, and then the tumbling of his steel-toed boots against the hardwood. A quiet draft moved around the living and dining room, a remnant of a busy, eventful day still present along the floor. Wooden peg dolls lay slain from a fight hours ago, Lego bricks scattered around from an explosion that seemed to have been devastating for the population and infrastructure of the city, how cute.

His ear perked up at the sound of soft cooing followed by the shrill of your baby voice for your girl. Behind the door to the nursery propped you up against the wall, slumped down onto the floor. The little cow onesie sat on your lap, leaning against your thighs as you held her hands, bouncing her up and down.

"Can you say 'mama?'" You whispered sing-songy, slowing down the last part, making it easier for the baby to understand. The little one giggled at you and forced you to wave your hand with its tight grip on one of your fingers.

Simon couldn't help but shake his head and roll his eyes, your diabolical plan of getting her to say 'mama' instead of 'dada' has started-which was especially unfair because you got parental leave before he did. "I heard that."

You look up at him from your spot of the fluffy rug, sticking out your tongue at him. 'How mature,' he thought as he sank down next to you. He raked a hand through his hair, resting his head against the wall as you rested yours onto his shoulder. Your cowpoke stuck her tongue out at him as he peaked open of his eyes to glare at her. "Already putting my own kid against me, how considerate of you, Lovie."

You giggled at him and thus, your baby girl also giggled, following in her mama's steps. The three of you settled down, Simon taking her from your lap and into his own, holding her close as she snuggled up into his uniform. You held onto his bicep, leaning into him. Soft lips meet your forehead as normal, just like the hundreds of times before this moment. "You got home late."

"I know, I'm sorry..." he sighed, eyes heavy and heart full,domestic life looked good on him. What looked even better was his beautiful girls in his grasp, shielding them away from the horrors of war that he fought all those years ago. This was it.

"I'm glad you're home though... we already had dinner and she insisted that we stay up to wait for you." You laughed. You missed him and the days that he wasn't so caught up, working overtime. You know why though, so paternity leave wouldn't be so out of reach.

He let out a soft laugh smiling and making funny faces at your little calf. "Yeah, I saw the destruction and war crimes the two of you caused out there."

"Womp, womp." You shrugged and let in a deep breath, content with the little family the two of you had created in a span of a few years. This is what life is supposed to be like; simple, warm, and your kids mocking you at the ripe age of 10 months.

Simon Riley, a man built on anger, pain, and built walls, is no longer just that. He's no longer just a soldier, a pawn that's willing to do anything for the greater good, sacrificing sleep, time, and himself. No, Simon Riley can no longer do that, he needs to come home at the end of day, see his girls terrorize the squirrels outside, see his girls nuzzled up watching tv, see his girls make fun of him, and most importantly, see his girls sleeping soundly in his arms.

[peggy24601]

here are my notes from last night's Les Mis performance on West End (mostly Grantaire related whoopsie)

i have way too much shit to say I still haven't processed my emotions so bear with me

Gavroche saying “Aye aye governor” to Javert right before Stars! This kid is d(￣◇￣)b💯ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ

Grantaire staying carefully away from Enjolras during Red and Black… before slapping the ever living hell out of Enjolras’ butt??? Sir??? Where did that confidence come from??? 

Gavroche being Grantaire's son, and Enjolras trying to also be a figurehead for him (does he want to be included? Is he doubtful of R's capacity as a parent? You decide!) 

Everyone roasting Marius (even someone shouting “Shut up Marius”)! Beautiful! Applauded!!! 

Cosette rushing to help Éponine off the floor after Thénardier slaps her.. Then holding her hands as they stare in each other's eyes **lesbians intensifies**

Grantaire being drunk af during One Day More, but taking a step to be seen by Enjolras, then Enjolras giving him a smile and a pat on the shoulder before going in front of him!!! I can't!!! 🥺

Grantaire trying to help but also keeping himself clearly separated from the rest of the boys during Here Upon These Stones

Gavroche being a little shit™

GAVROCHE EXPOSING JAVERT, GRANTAIRE GIVING HIM HIS BOTTLE SO HE CAN PUT THE KID ON A TABLE AND GAVROCHE DOWNING IT'S CONTENT AND R JUST RUFFLING HIS HAT

Gavroche and Grantaire being the first ones to find Éponine and Marius in A Little Fall of Rain, and Grantaire holding him the whole time

Enjolras going to comfort Marius when Éponine dies and Grantaire keeping him from doing it so Gavroche can go instead

Gavroche giving Marius Éponine's hat 😭😭

Enjolras trying to go and comfort Grantaire during his existential crisis in Drink with Me, but him running away from Enjolras before Gavroche practically tackles him in a back hug on the wall!!! 

Everyone looking at Grantaire when Gavroche rushes over the barricade

Enjolras running to catch Gavroche when he's shot then giving him to Grantaire and looking absolutely destroyed

Grantaire yelling “You bastards” during the barricade call

Even after the final battle begins, Grantaire still stays back, he's not ready to start fighting yet. But then he sees Enjolras and he be running to be shot too

Grantaire’s actor's sleeve got caught on a piece of the set so his arms were in the most awkward position for the Bring Him Home reprise

Enjolras being brought out in a cart, Javert blessing Gavroche’s dead body before signaling to a police man to put him on a cart with Enjolras

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables! Enjolras and Grantaire being next to each other, then face to face, THEY'RE NARRATIVE FOILS

Valjean saying “must-a” in an almost Italian accent in Who Am I reprise…  twice

May I present M. Thénardier “I wish I would've married your sister” and his wife “I wish you were dead”

Enjolras and Grantaire holding Gavroche between them at the end of the show, Enjolras was accepted as a figurehead and Grantaire gets his man they're in paradise I'm not sobbing you are

[final-script]

It's Happening! | Ruben Dias

Pairing: Ruben Dias x Reader

Sumary: Where Ruben Dias asks the big question.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!.There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later),

Gif: rubendiasatl

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

As the complete gentleman he was, unbeknownst to you, he had gone to your parents' house to ask for your hand.

It was not difficult for them to give the blessing, they loved him from the moment they met him.

(…)

After obtaining the blessing of your parents, he only needed to prepare the proposal, for this he received ideas and some help from family and friends, both yours and his.

There wasn't anyone who wasn't aware of Ruben's love for you.

You liked the simple, so Ruben had decided on something simple but at the same time express what he feels for you.

Although it may not seem like it, everything was quite fast and without raising suspicions around you.

First I would take you to dinner and then to walk on the beach, where I had also prepared something.

(…)

The day of the proposal I followed his plan to the letter, I invite you to dinner like any other time, trying not to seem nervous, fortunately I succeed.

He opened your door when he got to the car, before also getting on and traveling to the restaurant and for the first time at night something called your attention… They weren't filling up the way they usually do.

Y/N- honey where are we filling?

R- oh, I thought maybe we could try a new place.

I put his cloak on your thigh and kept driving.

(…)

The dinner developed normally, talking about random things as they always do and after a small dessert it was time to continue with the second part of the plan.

R- is it okay if we walk along the beach?

Y/N- there is a pleasant climate, so that's fine.

They clasped their hands and as the beach was close they walked clinging.

A few meters a decorations scattered along the beach caught your attention

Y/N- it seems that there was a party.

If only you knew what was about to happen to you.

Advantage your distraction, Ruben decided that it was his moment, with the excuse that you could better observe the "forgotten" place, I managed to put you where he wanted.

R- and if I told you that it is not a party and that it is for us. Hugging you from behind.

Y/N- what do you talk about, honey?

R- I did this because I wanted to ask you something.

He kept you in this position, because if I turned to see you I probably wouldn't say everything he really wants to tell you.

R- I know you love the simple so I will do the best I can, I know I could go straight to the point but … There are things I really want to say today.

He controlled his breathing as best he could and continued.

R- It's been almost 4 years since we are together, almost 4 years since I saw you for the first time and was arrowed by that girl who seemed lost at a party with her friends, but no matter how lost she seemed she made me work to get her name and phone number, almost 4 years since you endure my mood swings after a game, you take care of me and help me to improve, I love you even more, because you are always just you and without forgetting to mention how much my family loves you, how you are with them … For everything I've said and for what I'm still missing, I want all that to be forever, to create new memories, so I want to ask you.

He stopped his words to turn you around and make eye contact.

As he did so, he immediately knelt down and revealed before you, the ring that without your knowledge he had been with for weeks.

R- do you want to marry me? The tears accumulated in your eyes could show, but enough to see that the man in front of you, you were with whom you wanted to spend the rest of your life.

Nodding excitedly you gave an answer.

Y/N- yes, yes, of course.

I slip the ring into your ring and when it got up, you immediately circled his neck and kissed it.

Y/N- I can't wait to be your wife.

R- the last name Dias will look great,Eu te amo futura esposa (I love you future wife)

Y/N- Mrs. Dias… I love it. Seal the moment with a kiss.

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

ANOTHERS

 From The Beginning - Ruben Dias x Reader

English Classes - Julian Alvarez x Reader

[xcaptain-winterx]

Wrong Parent

dad!Lloyd Hansen x reader

summary: Lloyd gets mixed up with the wrong person

warnings: fluff, mentions of Lloyds work, biting, nipples, shit

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Main Masterlist Daddy Sociopath Masterlist

A sudden scream comes from down the hallway, interrupting the meeting.

Lloyd looks over his shoulder to the door leading to the hallway. Lloyd turns to look back at the men surrounding the man tied to the chair.

“Gentlemen, if you excuse me, I need to take care of something” a smile appears on his face as he stands up. “Take care of this thing while I’m away” the men nod before turning to face Mr. Kemp again.

Lloyd walks with quick steps down the hallway. He knows what will happen if he doesn’t get there fast enough. Following the sounds Lloyd comes to stand in front of the only door that is not ceiling high. Another cry pierces Lloyds ears, as he unlocks the door. The sight of two small chubby hands, sticking out off the expensive crib greet him. Lloyd steps closer and sees the little infant on their back, tears running down their cheeks and a little pout on their face.

“Hey, junior” Lloyd says as he carefully picks his son up, cradling his head, “what’s wrong?”

He whines, while gripping his dads turtleneck sweater tightly. Lloyd walks around the room, trying to calm him down. “Shh, everything is ok. There’s no reason to cry. Look, even Mr. Mustache is happy” he says, picking up the teddy bear, which is laying in the crib. It was the first stuff animal the baby got. It was custom made, and Lloyd took that as an advantage to give it a mustache. “And you know what? Mr. Mustache would be really happy if you give him a little smile”he brings the bear closer to his face in hopes of making him laugh.

Lloyds plan doesn’t work though, the baby won’t stop.

“Oh come on. What the fudge is wrong-OH SHIT” Lloyd can’t hide the disgust that crosses his face when he hears something heavy enter the diaper, “of course it had to be a shit”. A small giggle is heard.“You like daddy getting frustrated? You are really like your mama” Lloyd speaks as he walks over to the changing table, “ok, remember we are a team”

He makes quick work in getting the onesie and diaper off. “God, what does mama feed you? I know you get her boobies, but I don’t remember having to take such a huge shit when I had them”

After finishing putting on a new diaper and putting Junior back in a onesie, he walks over to the rocking chair, the same rocking chair his wife spent most nights in during her last trimester. Slowly Juniors eyes start to close until you can hear soft little snores.

Lloyd smiles, happy that his son is finally calm again. He carefully puts him down in his crib before deciding to take a shower. He walks into the master bedroom to get to the connected master bathroom. Throwing his clothes off, putting them in a basket because he knows sunshine hates clothes just laying on the floor. He steps into the shower and almost curses at the amount of blood that was still on him. He better not tell mama.

As Lloyd tries to grab his shampoo he sees that it’s not there or in fact nowhere. He must have forgotten to buy some new, no, the servants forgot to get some new one. Someone will definitely have to pay for that.

The only shampoo now there is sunshines, and he grabs it. It’s not a very manly smell, but it’s his favorite smell and it will work till he will get his shampoo.

Lloyd finishes and grabs the towel, wrapping it around his waist before putting some beard shampoo on his mustache.

A cry is heard when Lloyd pulls on his pants. Lloyd lets out a airy laugh, of course LJ decided to start crying the second he’s finished showering. So now he walks back to the nursery, in just his pants, to take care of his little monster.

“what’s wrong now, bubba?”using the nickname sunshine always calls him. He picks him up, holding him against his chest. “You’re probably hungry, right?”, Lloyd says as LJ opens his mouth and puts his hand in it.

He moves LJ a bit in his arms, so he can grab a napkin for safety. “Ok, lets-AHHHHHH” a sudden pain shoots through his left nipple. Lloyd looks down and sees his son sucking and biting at his nipple. “FUCK NO” Lloyd pulls his son away from his body, holding him at arm length. A growl leaves his mouth.

“Did you just seriously did what I think you did?” he says with a stern voice “Do I look like mama”. His son reaches for him with closed eyes.

“Mwaaa” screams LJ.

Lloyd looks at him confused, “Hold up, do you think I’m mama?”. Lloyd holds him to his chest again and immediately LJ tries to go for his boob again. Quick Lloyd pulls LJ away before his nipple gets attacked again. Then he realizes.

Not only did he use the nickname his wife calls their son but also used her shampoo. Now Lloyd also realizes that his son got his eyes closed, meaning that he didn’t even see him.

“I’m not mama, see”, Lloyd holds him so he’s face to face with his son. He brings him closer and puts one of his sons small hands on his mustache. “It’s daddy not mama”

He gives his daddy a smile, ‘slapping’ his cheeks. “Aww hitting daddy after you already bit him? That’s not very nice.” Lloyd gives him a kiss on the forehead before finally walking out off the room to get some milk with LJ.

“Do I have such big boobs?”

[moonlightspencie]

a house up on a hill

Part 2 of ‘a life where we work out’

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/Dean Winchester x past!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

(i forgot!! tw: non-graphic mentions of suicide)

—————————-> DEAN’S POV <- ——————————

I woke to the sound of a muffled voice calling my name.

The ground was much comfier than I remembered. It almost felt… Soft? I pushed my head back slowly, realizing that it was soft.

The voice called again, though this time it was much clearer.

I opened my eyes, slowly blinking until it all came into view. My heart stopped when I saw her looking at me. She sat next to me on the bed, a hand on my arm, smiling. She looked happy. Healthy.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said with a grin before she leaned down to kiss me.

Although, she came up confused when I didn’t react in time. She furrowed her brow, looking down at me.

“Too tired to even kiss your wife?”

My eyes widened, and suddenly I looked down at the hand against my bicep. She had a pretty little diamond ring on her finger.

“What—“

“How much did you drink last night?” she asked with a laugh. “I know you and Sam can get a little out of hand, but geez. How’s breakfast sound?”

“Yeah, okay,” I nodded, still in a haze.

I watched as she left the room, giving me one last confused smile before she did. I took in a deep breath. This had to be a dream. That was it.

I stumbled out of the unfamiliar bed that I somehow knew very well. I looked around the house. It was a little small, but so clearly a happy place to live that it practically slapped me in the face. I looked around the living room, quickly spotting a photo that was meant to be our wedding day. I set it back where I found it when she called my name.

I turned to see her leaving the kitchen with two bowls of some kind of scramble.

“Come on,” she said, tilting her head towards the front door.

I followed after her blindly, unable to keep my eyes off of her. She was so happy. She was practically glowing. I sat down on the front porch swing, accepting the bowl and another kiss. The porch wrapped around the house, and flowers lined all the windowsills. My attention was captured soon after by two cute kids on playing in the field down the hill. They couldn’t be more than three and four.

My brow furrowed as I glanced around at the open spaces around the house. Where were their parents?

“Jamie! Violet!” she called out to the boy and girl. “Come say ‘good morning’ to daddy!”

I sat in shock watching these two little people come running for me. They looked like us.

“Mornin’, daddy,” the little girl�� Violet, said to me. “Lookit!”

She held up a bundle of wildflowers in her soft little fist. Her face lit up. My eyes, and her smile on one sweet, tiny face.

“Real pretty, baby,” Y/N said, looking at me funny when I didn’t reply to the little girl.

Meanwhile, I accepted a hug from a little boy who could’ve been my double at that age. Just without the scary parts. They all had a danger-free life. We did.

She told them to go clean up, but I could place her motives quickly.

“Did you do hard drugs last night, or something? What’s up with you?” she questioned, incredulous.

Her face dropped a little when she looked at me, quickly wiping tears from my face that I hadn’t realized were there in the first place.

“Baby?”

I cleared my throat. “I— I’m sorry. I just…”

I looked at her, not sure how to explain. Last I remember is that we had been broken up for several months. Seeing here now, mothering our children…

“Maybe my hormones are transferring,” she said with a little laugh, wiping the remaining tears.

I tilted my head in question.

She merely smiled. “I was gonna wait until my parents had the kiddos, but…”

She trailed off, the hand with the ring on it resting on her stomach suddenly.

“How’s baby number three sound?”

My eyes widened. “What? You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh—“ I started, kissing her on instinct before my words could get the better of me.

She laughed, pulling away a moment later.

“I know we said we weren’t sure about having another, but…”

“No!” I exclaimed. “No, this is— this is amazing. You’re amazing.”

“There’s my Dean,” she said softly, caressing my face. “I was worried about you this morning. You’re not being your usual self.”

“I just…” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain. Not important right now.”

She sighed. “It’s always important, babe. We talked about this: if you’re feeling bad, I’m here to talk it through with you.”

I watched her a moment, then nodded.

“We’ll talk later. Promise,” I said, still needing to figure out what kind of dream I was in.

“Okay,” she agreed with a nod, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “You know I love you?”

“I know. I— I love you more.”

She smiled again, leaning into me to finally eat her breakfast. I followed suit, at least letting myself enjoy this while I could. We were soon joined by two minis who insisted on cuddling, and I wasn’t going to deprive them of that.

Hours passed, and eventually her parents came. Her living parents just walked right in and took our kids for a night. And if felt good and safe to let them out of our sight. We didn’t have to worry.

I walked around our house as she took a shower, seeing that I’d missed several photos in our living room. Our kids as they grew up. Me, holding them as babies looking happier than I’d ever seen myself. Us. Her parents. My parents. Sam and Jess.

Wait. That felt eerily familiar. Why did that feel so familiar to see?

Well, that question left my brain temporarily when she walked in.

“Hey,” she called, dressed in nothing by my t-shirt.

I stared openly, unable to do anything but stare. She smirked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, warning me. “It’s bedtime.”

I swallowed, still not quitting. “Right.”

She wet her lips, holding out a hand for me. I walked towards her like we were magnetic, immediately leaning in to kiss her. It’s like I couldn’t help myself. She was there. She was still in love with me. She was my wife and the mother of our kids. How could I stay away?

She must’ve shared parts of that sentiment by the way she dragged me into our bedroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind us.

I woke up the next morning to her curled into my side. Even in this perfect world, her hair still covered half her face in a mess when she slept. It was still the prettiest thing I’d ever see.

Unfortunately for me, memories started flooding back as I’d been asleep.

We had seen each other after the breakup. We even started on a hunt together. Going after a djinn.

I let myself watch her a while longer, knowing what I had to do to wake up in the real world.

My heart ached as I thought about it. I needed to wake up. I just didn’t want to. I wanted to see our kids grow up. I wanted to see our baby be born. I wanted to grow old with her. We were doing so well for ourselves here, in this life.

She woke up a few minutes later, giving me a soft smile, and brushing her fingers against the frown lines on my face.

“Always so grumpy when you wake up.”

I shook my head. “Not grumpy. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You. How much I love you and this life and our babies,” I said, not allowing the tears I felt to fall. “How much I missed you.”

She furrowed her brow. “Baby, we were only asleep for like seven hours.”

“Not what I mean. I just—“ I sighed. “None of this is…”

I stopped myself, realizing it was no use to try and convince her this wasn’t real. Why ruin the magic that was already slowly running dry?

“I just love you. So much,” I settled.

She kissed me. “Love you more.”

I smiled softly, kissing her one more time.

“I’ll be back soon, alright?” I lied, reluctantly climbing out of bed.

She nodded, watching me with adoring eyes as I left the room. I finally let those tears fall, finding the gun safe and pulling out my handgun. I walked out to the front porch, sitting on the swing again as I watched the blue sky come alive. It was peaceful. It was someplace I was determined to see again in my dreams when I left.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what came next.

And I pulled the trigger.

part 3 here ->

[searchingsomewhere]

All Too Well, Part 9

{"Mom, I'm tired. Can I sleep in your house tonight?"}

Part 1

It seemed like everything was falling to place for her. It was quite cool outside, but Miho didn't mind. Her hand was warm, interlaced with Suguru's. The six of them had taken a day trip to Shibuya. Her breath fogged in the air. Laughter rang out in the crisp fall air. Satoru was charging straight ahead, tossing his shopping bags to Kento, who threatened to drop them on the ground.

"I can't believe it's almost time to go home," Yu said, stretching his arms over his head, "Where are you guys going for the holiday?"

"We still have like three weeks," Miho said.

"I gotta go see my parents," Shoko sighed.

Yu and Kento both voiced similar plans. Satoru made a face. "I'll probably just go to Suguru's like last year."

"Don't you think you should ask first?" Kento asked.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it's polite!"

The six teenagers stopped at the crosswalk. Suguru nearly stepped out, having been watching Miho the whole time. Satoru grabbed the back of his jacket just in time to keep him from walking out into traffic, snickering, "Eyes on the road, lover boy."

"What about you, Miho?" Yu asked.

Miho blinked at him, "Oh, I'll just be at the school."

"What about your parents?"

She shrugged, " Administration won't let me leave. I haven't seen them in almost two years."

Satoru pursed his lips, looking over at his friend. Suguru squeezed her hand. "We'll ask if they'll let you go this year. I'll go with you."

"What am I supposed to do?" Satoru whined.

Just as Suguru was opening his mouth to answer, a cell phone rang. Everyone checked their phones. It was Miho's.

"Speaking of my parents," she muttered, flipping the phone open, "Hey, mom."

The crosswalk light turned green. Her friends began walking forward. Suguru started, but stopped when she didn't follow. Miho was rooted to her spot. Her glassy eyes began to swell with tears. Suguru called out to their group before turning to her again. Her voice shook as she spoke.

"...Dad?"

---

Two hours later, she was sitting in a Nagano hospital waiting room. Miho stared forward, hands clasped tightly together. Her knee bounced rapidly. Suguru sat next to her, arms crossed. He reached over to grab her hand. She squeezed it tightly.

The hospital was full of lower grade curses. Nothing major, just the typical small fries often associated with the grief found there. She wasn't worried about them.

"Did they say how far the cancer progressed?" Suguru asked quietly.

"It's eaten up her insides," Miho said numbly.

He could only nod.

A man walked out, wearing a dress shirt and pants. He was a foreigner, most likely American if Suguru had to guess. A typical salary man, clean cut with short dark hair and green eyes. You could see the fatigue in his gaze from endless nights at the hospital, the deep wrinkles in his clothes from coming straight from the office.

Miho stood. Suguru followed.

"Dad," Miho barely managed.

Miho's Dad hugged her tightly. His face crumpled in grief, suddenly seeming much older than it really was. The man held his daughter as if the world were collapsing around them, as it surely was, as his only connection to his dying wife was suddenly tangible and in front of him. He kissed Miho on the top of her head.

Suguru kept his gaze down, silently standing so they could have a moment together. His phone buzzed quietly in his pocket. Suguru stepped to the side to answer. It was Yaga.

"Hello?" Suguru said in a low voice.

"Where the hell is Miho?"

"She's with me. In Nagano."

"She can't leave the school grounds without permission-"

Suguru lowered his voice, turning away. "Her mom is dying. We had to go."

Silence on the other end. Finally, Yaga said, "I'm sending Satoru. Just to keep the higher ups from pitching a fit. Do not allow her to use her technique-"

Suguru closed his phone and returned to the matter at hand.

"Dad, this my boyfriend," Miho said, gesturing to him.

Suguru smiled and bowed politely. "Suguru Geto. I'm sorry we're meeting under such circumstances."

Her dad returned the bow and reached to shake his hand. "Ray Tsukiyomi. I am too. Thank you for coming." He turned to Miho and sighed heavily. When he spoke again, it was in English. He asked Miho for help filing paperwork.

---

Her mother passed just hours later.

Suguru closed his phone, having just sent Satoru the address to the hospital. He stood outside of the hospital room, listening to Miho's quiet sobbing.

What a strange feeling it was. To hurt so much for someone, and yet be unable to do anything to help. Death was a natural phenomenon. They both faced it often in the field as Jujustu Sorcerers. But somehow it was entirely out his grasp how to make everything alright for her. They had only been dating a month. He wasn't close enough to be in there with her. But he was too close to simply stand in the hallway.

She stepped out while her dad went to tell the nurse. Suguru met her with open arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she sobbed into his chest. His arms enveloped her whole, like a life vest keeping her afloat. His heart ached with every sob that left her.

Satoru was rushing over to them as they exited the hospital, flowers in hand. He pulled Miho into his arms as soon as he was close enough.

"I'm sorry," he said into her hair, "I'm so sorry, Miho."

---

"Why didn't anyone tell me she had cancer?"

Trees whizzed by the train window. Miho stared at the passing scenery. She gritted her teeth, moving her hardening gaze to the empty plate in front of her as if she could shatter it with her mind.

Only a few hours until they were required to return to Tokyo.

"We told the school as soon as we found out. They said they would tell you." Her dad had said. "About six months ago."

Satoru was watching her from across the aisle. His glowing gaze flickered from her stony face to Suguru's. Thank goodness they had gotten a private booth seat. Miho was thankful for that. She didn't want to speak to anyone.

Her Cursed Energy was spiking. Suguru reached over to place his hand on her knee. It was both a warning, and a comforting gesture. Calm down. We're here for you.

At that very moment, she didn't want to be calm. She wanted to kick. And scream. And claw. She wanted to dig her fingernails into flesh and tear away at bone. As trees faded into buildings, Miho felt a deep anger simmering over her.

At that very moment, if given the chance, she would have killed every person in administration.

Part 10

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 23

(co-written with @schemmentis): Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Part 15. Part 16. Part 17. Part 18. Part 19. Part 20. Part 21. Part 22.

Summary: Life goes on, but that doesn't stop you from missing home.

WC: 2065

That night, you and your wife end up having a stay in date night once your papers are all in order. You’re laying on the couch, cuddled up together when the girls come in. Lena is behind them. Your girls come up and hug you both, planting kisses on your cheeks. Your girls’ friend comes up next and also hugs you- she’s always such a treat to have around.

“Hi hun,” you say softly as you sit up just slightly. “You’re spending the night?”

Lena looks hesitant. “May I? My... my parents are still fighting over everything with the divorce, and I really don’t want to ruin a good night.”

“That’s just fine, sweetheart,” Melissa pipes up, somewhat groggily. She was asleep in your lap up until the front door opened. “You know we always have room for you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vinci,” Lena smiles softly.

“How many times do I have to tell you that when we’re not at school, you can call me Raphaela?”

“You know where we are if you need us, honey,” you tell her, although you’re well aware she knows. There have been a handful of times in the last few months where Lena has come down the steps for a glass of water, only to find you and your wife still laying on the couch. Almost every time, the two of you end up comforting her over whatever is going on in her head at that moment keeping her with the waking world. 

You watch the three girls disappear up stairs. Once they’re out of sight, your wife is settling back into your lap once more. You sigh as you return to your prior more comfortable position and wrap your arms around her again. You really weren’t ready to bring yourself to get up from the couch, anyway. 

“When we had the twins you didn’t tell me we were also signing up for any number of other girls running around.” You murmur as you press your lips to Melissa’s temple.

She scoffs. “I don’t think either of us were thinkin’ that far ahead. At least they chose good ones to hang around with.”

“We’re not counting Carla, right?”

“God, no.” Melissa swiftly answers through a laugh. “She’s as spoiled-ly entitled as her Ma is. Noses permanently in the air.”

There’s a long lull between you. Just the sound of the television playing one of your wife’s shows. You never know what’s going on in them. Other than a lot of fighting that sees her cheering for who she likes the same way she does at sports games. You smile as you remember the first outing you’d taken as a family once you’d moved. It had killed Melissa to wear anything not Philadelphia but she had. At home, she still cheers on your real home team though she’s grown to tolerate New York teams too, albeit reluctantly so. 

Tonight, she isn’t paying attention to the show either. You’re both in your own bubble, wrapped up together on your couch. After a long silence where you’re beginning to stop fighting your eyes that are trying to close, her voice meets your ears softly. “Amore?”

“Hm?” You hum your acknowledgement of the call for you, a hand tiredly raising to brush through red locks.

Her arms tighten around you as she heaves a sigh. It doesn’t sound like she’s annoyed but neither does it sound like the one you know she makes in contentment. “I know it will sound silly but… I’m feeling homesick.”

You shake your head slightly. “Not silly at all, my love. Not silly at all.” You quietly assure, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I have you and our beautiful girls here. Even if they sass me a little too much and get on my nerves a little more the older they get.” Melissa whispers, as if the girls are listening. They could be. They did like to eavesdrop from the stairs from time to time. Though with Lena here and your house quiet and content, you doubt it. Those eavesdropping urges usually happened whenever there were big things or changes going on. When you and your wife were arguing or close to Christmas or birthdays.

“You’re all here and safe and I’m so thankful.” Your wife continues in her hushed tone. “But I miss home. I miss Sunday dinners with our parents letting the girls get away with more than they should. Them buying them too many gifts for Christmas and their birthday. I miss arguing with Kristen Marie. I miss cookin’, makin’ the menus and teachin’ chefs how to make it the right way. I miss our church and Pastor Thomas’ sermons.”

You reach to lightly rub Melissa’s back as she lists things you miss just as much. It hits you in random moments. Some Sundays when you go into Church you expect to see Barbara and Gerald. Some nights when you come home and hear the gaggle of your children’s friends you expect to also see your in-laws and all your little nieces and nephews. You suppose they wouldn’t be so little anymore. 

“I miss Barb.” You wrap one arm tighter around Melissa when she chokes out a sob. She presses her face to your neck, holding you tight. “I miss my Ma.” She manages to add between stuttering breaths. “I miss home, Amore.”

“I do, too.” You admit quietly, holding your wife tightly as your cheek brushes her own affectionately. The hand rubbing her back shifts back upward to sift through her red locks. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation. Though it is the first time it’s been your wife to break. You both knew you were doing what you had to do to keep your daughters safe and growing up normally. 

You didn’t regret your decision to leave your home because it meant your little preteens were here, experiencing a normal life with gossip and petty drama and friends and everything that you and Melissa didn’t have growing up. You didn’t regret it. Still, knowing it was the right thing to do, the right choice, didn’t mend the gaping hole you couldn’t help but acknowledge in the safety of it being just you and Melissa. You did your best not to think about how everyone you left behind felt, what they’ve had to deal with in the years you’ve been away. You already can hardly hold your own grief over it all. You couldn’t juggle it with those thoughts.

You blink awake a few hours later. Melissa is still clinging to you, the television still playing. You hadn’t meant to sleep on your couch. Then again, you never did. Yet it happened fairly often in your new home. “Baby,” you murmur, your voice nearly hoarse as you try to gently wake Melissa.

You jump at a figure suddenly leaning over the couch. “Fuck sake!” You curse when you realize it's Cat.

“Sorry, Mam. I thought I heard you.” She whispers. Somehow, Melissa hasn’t woken up yet. She must have been holding in your small conversation from earlier for longer than you suspected. More emotionally drained than you realized.

“What on earth are you doin’ up?” You grumble to your eldest, carefully sitting up without letting go of your wife. You glance back to Cat at her silence to see her briefly studying Melissa before her eyes flick back to you.

“Is Mommy okay?” She asks instead of answering your question.

“Mommy is fine, sweetheart.” You assure quietly. “If she were awake she might cry hearing you call her that.” You admit, giving a small look to your oldest. You know and understand why her and her sister don’t want to call her that in front of friends but your eldest really had been more snotty toward Melissa ever since. Especially if she used the term of endearment. “But she’s fine.”

“Mam…” Cat starts. Once again she looks between both you and Melissa. “Can I tell you somethin’?” She finally whispers.

You raise an eyebrow. Gently, you settle Melissa back to the couch, ensuring the decorative pillows you keep on the couch are both cradling her head and the throw blanket is tucked over her. You had intended on getting you both to bed. It can wait a little while.

You rise from your couch, waving your eldest back into the kitchen. “What is it?” You prompt as you start making hot cocoa. A family tradition on nights like this. When something needed to be talked about. A mug of warm comfort. You make a little extra in the case Rosie or Lena wake up and come down or Melissa wakes up from the couch.

It isn’t until you're sitting at the kitchen island, looking at Cat over your mug as you sip that she sighs. Her hands twist around the mug, fingers playing with the handle mindlessly. “Promise you won’t get mad?” She asks, peeking up at you from her hands and mug.

You raise an eyebrow once again. “That depends on what you’re about to tell me, Catherine.”

She rolls her eyes at her full name being used. “It’s not that bad…” She mutters. 

You wait, silent, as you look at your eldest. You don’t run through what it could be in her mind at all. You know better, especially with your oldest twin, than to try. They inherited saying things you’d never even guess from Melissa. 

“Fuck it.” Cat sighs. You don’t even get to reprimand her swearing before she’s speaking again. “Lena told me, and made me and Rosie promise not to tell but it’s not right and you and Mommy wouldn’t want us to lie about it.”

“What did Lena tell you?”

“Her dad hit her mom the other day when they were fighting.” Cat finally says quietly. “She said he would have hit her too but her mom stopped him….”

“I’ll break that man’s fucking legs myself.” Melissa’s voice suddenly sounds. 

You turn to see your wife sitting up on the couch, looking over the back of it to you and your eldest. She stands from the couch, moving to join you in the kitchen. You’ve made plenty yet she purposefully takes your mug to take a sip from.

You roll your eyes and fight the smile on your lips as you grab the mug that would have been hers before she stole yours. 

“Mommy, you can’t!” Cat pleads as she sets her own mug down. “Lena made us promise, she’ll be so mad if she finds out I told you.”

“Honey, she can be mad. What’s happening in her house is not okay. It’s abuse,” your wife tells your daughter. “Has he ever hit her Ma before?”

Cat averts her eyes.

“Good lord,” Melissa whispers as she sips the warm, chocolate drink. “I should’ve known… her mother is always so skittish, and Lena has been here more than she’s been at her own house lately.”

“Mommy, please,” your eldest begs. “Please don’t tell.”

“Has he ever laid hands on Lena before?” you ask quietly, trying to get a better confirmation from Cat beside the obvious want not to say it. “Is that what the bruise on her arm was from- not falling off a bike like she said?”

Cat just nods silently.

“Mommy, Lena’s crying,” Rosie makes her way down the steps, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Your younger twin falls into your lap, clearly exhausted.

With a heavy sigh, Melissa makes her way up the steps. It’s a few minutes later that the pair comes down the steps, and you gesture for Rosie to stand in order to make more hot chocolate.

“I have to report this,” your wife says softly, demure. “I’m a mandated reporter.”

“Mrs. Vinci,” Lena sniffles. “Please. No. I don’t- I don’t want to be taken from my family.”

“I’ll make sure you stay with your mother,” Melissa promises. She glances at you, and you nod. “But what’s happening with your father… I can’t watch that happen. To you, or your mother.” She wraps her arms gently around Lena, pressing a soft kiss to the fragile girl.

You keep arms around both of your little girls, propped on either of your knees and tucking their chins into your neck. You crane just slightly to kiss their own heads, thanking God that they’re okay and that they’re here with you.

TAGS: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[wakandas-vibranium]

Wednesday Nights || Part Four

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, time skip, angst, fluff

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit choppy. I am not a fan of time skips. Four chapters down, one more to go. Thank y'all for reading. Please like, comment, and share!

part one

part two

part three

part five

“Mom!” 

You awakened with a jolt, in a cold sweat in your new living quarters. You'd been suffering the same nightmare for 20 years. You had to witness your mother turn and attack your father, turning him. Then, before they could attack and turn you, they were both gunned down. 

That was 20 years ago and you still weren’t fully recovered. Your luck finally started to come through these last six months. 

You were walking alone in the winter cold. The cold air was stinging on your skin as you traveled down the icy river. 

Six people on horses surrounded you and grilled you so badly that you thought they were going to kill you. One of the men on the horses yanked his bandana down over his face and screamed your name so loudly that he startled the horses and a few of the others with him.

“Y/N!” Tommy called as he hopped down from his horse, running over to you. Even though his hair was longer and he'd grown a beard, you recognized Tommy right away.

The blood rushed to your face so quickly that you almost passed out. You thought he was dead. You assumed all three of them were all dead. You peered over Tommy's shoulder at the other riders as he drew you into a crushing hug. You didn't see Joel. Was Joel still alive? Was he even here with Tommy?

You rode back with Tommy on his horse, relieved to be off your feet. You'd been walking for weeks. You were in the dining hall eating with Tommy and his new wife, Maria. She was gorgeous and a little intimidating, but she made small talk. 

You couldn’t help but notice her body language and the way her lips would thin into a straight line and shoulders would tense at any mention of Joel. Tommy let you know as soon as possible that Sarah didn’t make it. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, but managed to keep it together. Before today, you already assumed she died. 

“It’s not like your brother is the best at making decisions,” Maria mumbled, fighting back an eye roll. 

Tommy was sharing with you some of the things he and Joel had to do in order to survive. You’d done similar things and a few worse things. You weren’t one to judge and you weren’t going to judge Tommy and Joel. They were the only family you had left. 

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You snapped, no longer able to ignore the jabs Maria kept taking at Joel. 

And the fact that Tommy just sat there and let her insult his brother really pissed you off. Not so much Tommy, but Maria's uppity demeanor got under your skin. Who the hell did she think she was? Good for her if she never had to stoop so low to survive in this shitty post-apocalyptic world. Good for fuckin' her, you thought.

Tommy leaned forward and whispered something into his wife's ear. She cringed and glanced at you before apologizing. Tommy opted to change the subject and asked you what happened to you on breakout day. 

“My parents turned right in front of me. Before I could even comprehend what was happenin’ to ‘em they were shot dead.” 

You remembered that day like it was yesterday. It was awful. Your parents were taken from you too fast. It was unfair. 

“Then I hauled ass across Austin to try and get to you, Joel and Sarah. None of you were answering your phones so I figured it must have been happening around y’all too.” 

You had a severe panic attack once you realized that you were well and truly on your own. You were lost. You didn’t know what to do without any of them. How were you supposed to survive in a world when your favorite five people no longer existed? 

“Eventually I ended up working with a small group of nine people to help find a cure for whatever this was. I worked with doctors, nurses, scientists on this. We were desperate to find a cure. Tommy, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, but we’ve exhausted every single possibility and nothing. There is no cure for this.”

“Wow.” Tommy said, sighing deeply at your newfound news. He had held out hope that there was a cure, but he wasn’t shocked that there wasn’t one. 

Enough about you. Tommy told you that Joel was alive and I just missed him by a few weeks. 

“Where is Joel?” 

“Ellie—the young girl he’s with is immune. Joel took her to a hospital — a firefly post so that they could use Ellie’s blood to make a cure.” Tommy explained cooly. 

“What?” You uttered lowly. You had your fair share of run-ins with the fireflies. Enough for a lifetime, and each instance damn near cost you your life. You had the awful pleasure of meeting their leader, Marlene. She had an impressive right hook, but your left was a lot meaner. 

The nine people you'd been traveling with for the past 20 years were all dead.  The majority were killed by clickers, while the others were killed by firefly bombs. You were furious and alone. On a mission to find Marlene, the leader of the fireflies.

You were determined to kill her where she stood. You'd had a few run-ins with Marlene, and they always ended bloody.

You didn't belong to FEDRA or the Fireflies. You were part of a small group of surgeons, biologists, nurses, and medical researchers. You were the only immunologist on the team. Shortly after the outbreak, all nine of you got together to try to find a cure. You clung to them after you assumed Joel, Sarah, and Tommy were no longer alive. 

After your parents were killed, you attempted to drive across town to Joel's house, but the highway was already shut down. You'd also overheard from an officer that Joel's neighborhood was a hot zone full of infected people. You were devastated. You had no family left within a matter of hours.

You last saw her and her band of fireflies in Atlanta about a year ago. She ordered her men to blow up a couple buildings where you and the rest of your group were hiding from FEDRA. You barely escaped with your life. Everyone else who was with you died. Blown to smithereens.

“There is no fuckin’ cure, Tommy.” 

“But Joel said—“

“—Well whoever told Joel and Ellie that is a goddamn liar. They’re gonna kill that poor girl and it’ll have been for nothin’.” 

Tommy chewed on his lip, pondering your information. He was probably even more worried about his brother now. As he should be. Joel wasn’t safe with the fireflies. No one was. 

“Is there any way to contact them?” You asked, still hopeful.

“They’ve been gone for a month, Y/N,” Tommy admitted, hesitancy heavy in his voice, “Joel said they’d come back once they were finished.” 

“Hopefully Joel realizes that Ellie will die and they’ll come back.” Maria reasoned, shooting you a small smile. 

“This isn’t good.” You exhaled sharply.

Anyway, that was five months ago. You were still with them in Jackson. It was a safe community that actually thrived plus you weren’t going to give up the opportunity to see Joel again. 

You were with Tommy in Jackson for almost six months now and still no word from Joel or his whereabouts. 

You were starting to get discouraged. 

You didn’t know it, but off in the far distance, Joel and Ellie were making their way back to Jackson.

You just needed to hold on just a little while longer.

[midwestmade29]

First Kiss Under the Mistletoe 💋

Christmas Writing Prompt: #1 Word Count: 623 Divider by: @benkeibear GIF by: @adamjf Be sure to check out @madhatterbri’s [full list] of Christmas/New Year writing prompts!

100% fluff, no disclaimers or wanrings!

Side note...can you believe I actually wrote something about a different wrestler other than Christian Cage?! I gotta admit it was a lot of fun! Nick is my original favorite btw...I mean, just look at him 😍

You and Nick Jackson share a special moment under the mistletoe...

The hustle and bustle of the day finally started to calm down once most of the guests started leaving the Christmas party. It was only the second time you had been around Nick’s family since the two of you started dating, and you were excited to take that next step in your relationship. You and Nick were alone in the kitchen on dish washing duty, sharing laughs and smiles until the last dish was towel dried. “Thanks for helping me with these Y/N! My mom hates putting her nice dishes in the dishwasher. Matt usually helps me, but I’m glad it was you this time instead.” Nick said affectionately. “No problem! I’m happy to help. Your parents went through a lot of trouble tonight for everyone, they deserve a break.” You smiled.

After sitting and chatting with Nick’s parents and Matt and his wife, they all decided to call it a night and head to bed/home. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out too.” Nick suggested. Once you gathered your shoes and coats, you were about to walk out the front door when you remembered you had forgotten something. “We almost forgot the leftovers in the kitchen! They’re in the fridge.” you reminded Nick. He made his way to the kitchen, collecting all the containers before rejoining you in the living room where you stood waiting in the doorway. “I think that’s all of them. Looks like our next few meals are taken care of.” He joked. Alexa was still playing Christmas music quietly in the background and the lights on the tree casted a soft glow around the room. The way they seemed to sparkle in Nick’s blue eyes made your heart flutter and your knees go weak, but your adoring gaze was interrupted when Nick accidentally dropped a couple of the food containers. Thankfully nothing spilled!

When you stood up after grabbing the containers, Nick appeared to be nervous all of a sudden. “Are you okay?” you asked tenderly. He didn’t use words to respond, instead he shifted his eyes towards the ceiling, yours following suit. It didn’t dawn on you at first what he was looking at until you noticed the sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you. Since you hadn’t been dating very long, you and Nick hadn’t had a first kiss yet. It was evident from the moment you and Nick met that there was an intense attraction to one another, but the “right time” to make that next move hadn’t occurred yet. Between being busy with AEW and Matt and others always around, getting time alone with Nick wasn’t easy. But here the two of you stood before one another, with nothing to interrupt you this time.

Nick cleared his throat as he sat the food containers down on a nearby table. “You know it’s bad luck to break tradition. I’d hate for us to be the ones to do that.” Nick pointed out. “Bad luck, huh? I don’t think we need any of that.” You teased. Nick closed the gap between you, cupping your cheek with his hand, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you before gently pressing his lips to yours. Sparks flew the second your lips touched, causing you to smile against them. The kiss was everything you dreamed it would be and more. It ended all too soon, leaving your cheeks flushed and lips tingling. Nick rested his forehead on yours, stroking your cheek with his fingertips and grinning from ear to ear. “That was…” he trailed off. “Incredible?” you said quickly, finishing his sentence for him. “That’s an understatement, but it will do for now. Merry Christmas sweetheart.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again.