#the only difference is that my son finally learned to drink from a bottle and he lived

[stonersolana]

i will never psychologically recover from yellowjackets s2ep6

[minteayoongimakesmewoozi]

i'm still (yes, still!) thinking about the fits hashira au remix where ayame is the sabito to tanjirou's giyuu, and...

the rengoku family.

ayame's story has always been intertwined with the rengokus, and this au is no different. we still have shinjurou, kyoujurou and senjurou, but maybe ayame's shishou is shinjurou this time.

shinjurou finds ayame not long after her entirely family is slaughtered. he isn't quite as cynical as we see him in canon, so he offers to train her. he makes her his apprentice, and she trains alongside kyoujurou in those early years.

ayame is a year older than kyoujurou, but she teasingly calls him senpai. he's been training with shishou longer than she has, after all! between her training sessions with kyoujurou under shinjurou's steadily clearing eyes and helping them look after senjurou, she finds her smile after a couple years.

sometimes she leaves to train with tanjirou - with shinjurou's and urokodaki-san's blessing, of course. kyoujurou is hard-working, but shinjurou knows the importance of constantly sparring with a peer. he still thinks his apprentice and son have no talent for swordsmanship, that they would be better off doing something else, but it eases something within him to know that kyoujurou will have ayame to look out for him.

shinjurou never imagines ayame wouldn't come back from final selection.

senjurou is the one who greets tanjirou at the entrance. it's been a week after final selection and shinjurou already has a sake bottle in hand when he stumbles out to the genkan with kyoujurou.

instead of his apprentice, it is urokodaki-san's boy standing before him. he holds out ayame's seigaiha kimono with shaking hands, tears streaming down his cheeks.

ah, shinjurou thinks. so she died after all. just as he suspected, breath of flame simply isn't powerful enough.

"i'm sorry," whispers tanjirou.

shinjurou lifts his sake jug to his lips and takes a long drag. the bitterness in his throat, he tells himself, is merely the alcohol.

kyoujurou unfreezes himself. he pulls a crying senjurou into his arms, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"how?" he asks, even if the answer is plain to see.

"there... there was an oni. i was - i was injured, and she - she protected me. she took my mask and my - and she... she protected me. she protected everyone."

"ridiculous," shinjurou growls. "utterly useless."

at her strength, she should have known better. he thought he taught her better than that, but he was wrong. he should have known better; he wasn't a teacher. the only things he could teach fell apart when it mattered most.

what good is a flame hashira when they can't even protect what matters most?

he always knew she would never become a hashira. he just never thought she would fail to become a demon slayer.

"it's my fault," tanjirou sobs.

"no." shinjurou takes another swig of bitter, bitter sake. "it was her own fault. she was weak, and now she's dead."

"chichi-ue," kyoujurou gasps, pressing senjurou's face into his shoulder to muffle his brother's sobs. "don't say that about ayame-neesan!"

"don't be absurd! she was never going to amount to anything!" of course she wasn't. she was his apprentice. "of course she died. she was merely average. stop your pathetic crying."

perhaps this will serve as a lesson to kyoujurou. he should throw away his ambition of becoming a demon slayer. just like ayame, he wouldn't even survive final selection.

shinjurou spirals.

he drinks enough to blackout when kyoujurou leaves for final selection anyway. he doesn't try to dissuade him. let him learn that lesson the hard way.

kyoujurou makes it back - alive - but shinjurou knows it must be luck. sheer, foolhardy luck. none of his students will amount to anything.

he drinks to forget, but he always remembers.

until one day he can't even fulfil his duties. kyoujurou steps up, fiercely and without hesitation. a fool.

an idiot.

(he is as much shinjurou's apprentice as ayame was.)

"how do you know that name?" kyoujurou asks.

it's another bout of luck that he survived a battle with upper three. he will never be able to use breath of flame again, but he is alive.

sake is still bitter on shinjurou's tongue.

"huh?" the peach-haired boy who headbutted him utters.

"ayame-neesan," senjurou whispers, loud enough to be heard through the paper-thin walls. "no one... we don't talk about her."

"... she was rengoku-san's apprentice, wasn't she?"

"yes, but..." kyoujurou clears his throat uncomfortably. "she died long ago. years ago. before i joined the kisatsutai."

"did... d-did kamado-san tell you?" asks senjurou.

"ha! that depressed loner? i don't think he speaks to anyone, really."

"th-then how...?"

"eto... it's difficult to explain. do you - do you believe in ghosts, rengoku-san, senjurou-san?"

ghosts. of course they exist. shinjurou is haunted every single day.

he tunes out the foolhardy boy - the one who is a descendant of breath of sun users. someone who wields such power would never understand the loss that shinjurou knows intimately.

"she told me she had a message," sabito says. "she wasn't sure if that guy ever had a chance to give it."

"kamado-san doesn't speak to us," kyoujurou says, surprisingly frustrated. "if he relayed it to chichi-ue, we were unaware."

"oh." a pause. "well, ayame told me - that is, ayame-san said she wanted her shishou to know that she was grateful for everything. she wouldn't have gotten so far if it hadn't been for everything he had taught her."

"oh." then again, in a softer voice, "oh."

"ano..." sabito is speaking again. "that guy... his haori. it's... unique."

"seigaiha. because he's the water hashira." kyoujurou makes an uncertain sound. "senjurou and i gave it to him. it was ayame-neesan's."

"ah. i see."

"he blames himself," kyoujurou continues. "no matter how much i try to talk to him, he always avoids me. i guess it'll be easier now. for him."

"ah..."

"if you have something to say to - to kamado-san, you should say it, sabito-san. if it's really true... if you can talk to ayame-neesan even now..."

"somehow," a shaky laugh, "i feel like i shouldn't tell him."

"you should try anyway," kyoujurou says bluntly. "you're his tsuguko. he'll listen to you."

"... mn."

"don't pressure him, aniue."

"but - "

"thank you for your time," sabito interjects. "i learned a lot."

senjurou gives sabito a flame-shaped tsuba.

"it isn't mine," rengoku-san assures him. "it was actually meant to be ayame-neesan's. you should use it."

sabito jolts. "me?"

"yes. i think she wants to protect you. that was the kind of person she always was."

in some ways, sabito is glad that ayame only appears intermittently. she would be embarrassed otherwise.

he thinks about their last conversation - how she said something bound her to this plane of existence. for a really long time, he thought it was guilt over how she had left things with kamado-san.

maybe that wasn't all.

senjurou fidgets with the hem of his sleeves. "she would have preferred it if you had used it, aniue..."

rengoku-san laughs. it's wheezier than his booming laughter from before, but just as boisterous. "then i would have still passed it on to sabito shounen!"

"aniue..."

rengoku-san's expression turns solemn. "the one thing ayame-neesan always hated was feeling helpless. this way, at least a part of her can still offer protection - for your hands and katana, if nothing else. take care of it, sabito shounen."

the tsuba is brand new. there isn't a single scratch on it. it hasn't seen a day of battle. only where it was kept in rengoku-san's pocket all these years.

sabito wonders what ayame might have been like, if they had a chance to meet in this living world. he can see traces of her in senjurou's kindness, in rengoku-san's beautiful arcing movements. even if death, there is still something that remains.

ayame would be embarrassed to know that.

he should tell her the next time they see each other, he thinks.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Les Trois Mousquetaires, Chapter 27

It's Athos turn, but, poignantly, this chapter is titled "La femme d'Athos."

It's a long chapter, and one of my favorites. I've always had a soft spot for Athos and his tragic backstory. It gives the book real depth and umph and also some darkness in all that harebrained swashbuckling. So let's dive into it, shall we? *rubs hands*

D'Artagnan and Aramis mount their horses to go looking for Athos, but it turns out that Aramis is continuing the Musketeer tradition of being "fine" when he isn't. He’s still too sore from flogging himself 😵 and he almost falls from his horse. D'Artagnan practically carries him back to bed and leaves without him.

(They're all idiots.)

At least Aramis is determined to spend his recovery time well from now on - by writing poetry aka love letters.

While riding, d'Artagnan muses about Athos - the one of the three he feels most drawn to, in spite of their age difference. There are several paragraphs of descriptions of Athos' physique, his manners, his behaviour, his skill set, his education and his character, in sum showing him as the contradictory, fascinating, mysterious, noble and emotionally baggaged creature millions of readers have fallen in love with - including me. (This is an Athos stan blog, in case you haven't noticed.)

Here's my favorite paragraph:

L'air noble et distingué d'Athos, ces éclairs de grandeur qui jaillissaient de temps en temps de l'ombre où il se tenait volontairement enfermé, cette inaltérable égalité d'humeur qui en faisait le plus facile compagnon de la terre, cette gaieté forcée et mordante, cette bravoure qu'on eût appelée aveugle si elle n'eût été le résultat du plus rare sang-froid, tant de qualités attiraient plus que l'estime, plus qu l'amitié de d'Artagnan, elles attiraient son admiration.

(Athos' noble and distinguished air, those flashes of greatness that sometimes leapt from the shadows in which he voluntarily dwelt, that unalterable stoicism which made him the best companion in the world, that forced and biting gaiety, that bravery one could've called blind if it weren't the result of the rarest cold-bloodedness - so many qualities attracted not only d'Artagnan's esteem or friendship but most of all his admiration.)

*swoons*

D'Artagnan also muses about Athos' melancholy, his drinking and his reasons behind it. We learn that "Athos alone drank for four", and "June and July were the most terrible months".

Pour le présent, il n'avait pas de chagrin, il haussait les épaules quand on lui parlait de l'avenir; son secret était donc dans le passé.

(He had no qualms with the present, he shrugged his shoulders if one spoke to him about the future; his secret must therefore lie in the past.)

Clever boy, our d'Artagnan.

My favorite quote from this chapter may be this one:

Athos, dans ses heures de privation, et ces heures étaient fréquentes, s'étaignait dans toute sa partie lumineuse, e son côté brillant disparaissait comme dans une profonde nuit.

(During his binges - and those were frequent - all the luminous parts in him were extinguished and his brilliant side disappeared into a profound night. )

🥺🥺🥺

D'Artagnan finally arrives at the inn in Amiens where he'd left Athos behind. When he asks the disgruntled innkeeper, he learns that Athos is, in fact, still there - barricaded in the wine cellar with Mousqueton. He'd retreated there during the sword fight and refused to come out ever since, and behaves "like the devil himself" whenever anyone tries to get him out.

Unfortunately for the innkeeper, the cellar holds all wine and food supplies, so he hasn't been able to serve any of his guests, and his business is about to go belly up.

After a tussle and some back-and-forth with two hungry and thirsty Englishmen, d'Artagnan finally manages to coax Athos out of the cellar, pale and severely drunk, claiming he must have drunk 150 bottles of wine in the past 15 days.

(Someone call UNOS for a liver transplant, STAT!)

The whole cellar is a trashed. Broken bottles, emptied barrels, leftover bones from eaten hams and broken furniture that was used as a barricade.

Oops.

To pay the innkeeper off, d'Artagnan sells Athos' old horse and gives him the money. (After all, he brought a new, better ride with him.)

Athos and d'Artagnan sit down for some wine (10 additional idiot points each) and ham, and Athos, drunk as he is, finally tells d'Artagnan his story (all the while claiming he's talking about some guy calle Comte de Berry, but he isn't fooling anyone at his point anymore but himself.)

This is the short of it:

As a 25yo he'd fallen in love with a 16yo woman girl who had been living with her brother, a pastor, both newly arrived, nobody knew where from. Athos, deeply infatuated, had married her.

One day, during a hunt, she'd fallen off her horse, and when he'd cut her dress open to give her some air, he'd found a branding on her - a fleur-de-lis, the mark of a criminal. Shocked, distraught and enraged, Athos had executed his rights as a noble landowner - and executed her by hanging her from a tree.😳

D'Artagnan is as appalled as you are, dear reader! He exclaims: "Ciel! Athos! Un meurtre!" (Athos! Heavens! A murder!)

Athos' answer: He grabs a bottle and empties it in one go.

Cheers, mate.

D'Artagnan can no longer listen to Athos' ramblings, thinking he'd go mad. He hides his face in his hands and pretends to fall asleep.

Athos, very morose: "The young ones no longer know how to drink. Although this one's one of the best."

Ha. Haha.

A brilliant chapter! Dumas walks a very fine line here between hysterical humor and a shocking revelation. Athos, raving mad, dropping insanely funny remarks and then slipping into deep, dark melancholy during his ‘confession’ makes us choke on our laughter. There’s a slippery slope from comedy to tragedy, and Dumas masters it with finesse. All the kudos, Alexandre!

PS: We will have to talk about the “I hung her from a tree” part, though. But I’ll leave that particular discussion for another day.

[ksmasterlist]

Soulmates pt 3

As promised! Here’s chapter 3

Summary:

When Bradley Bradshaw finds himself single and transferring from the base in Virginia to the base in San Diego California he expects it to be a pretty boring trip, and given he’s chosen to fly as if he were a civilian he plans to drink his way through the whole thing so maybe just maybe he can fast track fixing his broken heart. But what he doesn’t expect is to meet the girl of his dreams.

Addilyn finds herself in a much better place than she’d been the year previous. And despite her promise to herself that she wasn’t going to jump into a new relationship or move too fast as she’d had the tendency to do, decides to turn on the charm with the cute yet sad man at the airport bar.

With both feeling a comfort they hadn’t experienced with anyone else before things could get interesting.

Notes: 

Hello all, so this is my first Top Gun fic so I hope whoever's reading this enjoys! Would love to hear your thoughts!

I do not give permission for them or my work to be published or copied to any other source.

Warnings featured throughout the story: 18+ minors DNI. SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER! Fluff, angst, all around cuteness, lots of flirting/pining. Age difference Addilyn (Phoenix’s younger sister) is in her mid-20s and Bradley is in his 30s. Pregnancy, emotional triggers. Language. Mentions of infertility.

If you would like to join the tag list just let me know :)

Addilyn and Bradley had been dating for almost three months, keeping it as much on the down low as possible. She wasn’t ready for all the inquiring her friends would do, plus with Della’s wedding right around the corner the last thing any of them needed was Della distracted by Addy’s sudden love life. It was hard enough as it was to keep Della on track, so adding anything else and the wedding wouldn’t be happening.

“Baby girl, what is all this?” Bradley asked as he opened his door to let Addilyn in while trying not to knock anything out of her hands.

She dropped her bag on the floor the moment she walked in a sigh of relief washing over her at not only the sight of him but also the smell of food. “I have to work on this stupid seating chart for the wedding and make all these table placements. So ya know, just work.”

The night called for much more than pasta and bread, apparently it also called for a bottle of chilled wine that Addilyn drank all by herself since Bradley knew he’d regret it in the morning if he helped her finish the bottle off, though he had a feeling she was also going to regret it in the morning, but he’d take care of her.

After they ate, the pair moved into his living room and onto the couch. Bradley’s arm found its way across her shoulders gently playing with her hair, without thinking she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck and softly peppered kisses along his collarbone. “You smell nice.” She whispered against his skin.

“But you have to stop distracting me. I really need to get this done.” She giggled, turning back to the book in her lap that had the almost finished seating chart. Once this and the placement cards were finished, the only things left would be finally picking out a cake flavor, planning the menu, and of course the actual wedding. And of course, given how indecisive her friend was, it all had to be done in less than a week. Honestly, Della was lucky she was not only getting married to Tom Kazansky’s son but also that Addilyn had as many connections as she did otherwise there was no way they’d be getting this done.

Bradley wouldn’t lie about being turned on. One of the many things that got him ready was collarbone kisses. But he also knew she was a little tipsy, and he learned that tipsy meant extra cuddly, though apparently so did tired. His fingers slid up and down her arm as he tried to readjust himself to be more comfortable, without disrupting her.

Bradley stood up and scooping his arms around Addilyn after another hour of sitting on his couch, while she finished up her work. He lifted her up into his arms so he could carry her to his bedroom. There was no way she was driving home in her condition. “Are you going to sleep in that?” He asked her as he laid her down hoping she was awake enough to help him out some.

“It’s not comfy. Do you have a shirt?”

Bradley hadn’t thought of what it would do to him to see her wearing his clothes, but he was willing to find out. He pulled out one of his t-shirts for her to slip into. Fully expecting her to be slightly more concerned or somewhat aware of her situation before she just took her clothes off. She’d sat up in the bed, took her shirt off then shimmed out of her pants, then slipped his shirt on and lastly she’d slipped her bra off and tossed her clothes into a pile by his bed. Then she laid right back down and snuggled herself into his bed.

“Are you coming to bed?”

He’d barely heard her, partly because she’d mumbled, and partly because he was totally daydreaming about her. Truthfully, Addilyn was the most breathtakingly gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He had never felt this way about a girl before. It was something he could get used to. It made him think of all the stories he’d heard about his own parents and the love they had for one another. His uncle Maverick would go on and on about how Goose could just stare at Carole for hours and never get tired of looking at her. The way he worded it was ‘I think your dad fell more in love with your mom every time he saw her’.

A love like that was what he wanted. Before he’d run into Addilyn at the airport, he’d almost convinced himself that it just wasn’t for him. Maybe there wasn’t someone out there for everyone, or maybe there was but it didn’t mean it would be great. Then she literally planted herself into his life and here he was, almost three months into knowing her but never wanting to let her go.  

He finally pulled himself together and took off his own shirt before he slipped into the bed beside her. She cuddled closer to him and pressed a soft kiss to his exposed chest. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Oh, what Bradley would give to stay like this forever. This had to be what his parents felt towards each other. A desire to simply stay wrapped up in each other forever.

—

The following morning Addilyn woke up to an empty bed.

She huffed as she eventually climbed out of Roosters bed and explored his small quaint apartment. The walls of her home were covered in pictures of her, her friends, and her family, there were no pictures on his walls. In her own home there were fake floral arrangements on tables, books on all her shelves, a TV mounted on a wall. Bradley’s apartment was pretty bare, aside from two pictures. They both sat in a frame on a side table in the living room. One was of him and his mom the day he graduated high school, the other he was young, maybe two, and he was resting on who Addy assumed was his father’s shoulders, and his mother was standing beside them, her hand was laced with her husbands and she had the brightest smile on her face. They looked happy.  

It made her sad to think about how long Bradley had been alone. Seeing the picture made her realize that was probably the only family picture he even had of all three of them. She remembered him telling her that his dad had died when he was really little. No older than he was in that picture.

There were hardly any indications that he lived there or that he’d had much of a life before he’d moved in aside from those two pictures. And maybe he hadn’t had time to unpack, though from the lack of boxes Addy was pretty sure he was finished.

Addy thought back to her own home and how cozy it felt. She couldn’t imagine hiding any part of her life from her own home. There were pictures everywhere, she may not still have pictures with Jason still up for people to see, but she still had them. They were just in photo albums, like all the other pictures she wanted to keep but didn’t want hanging on a wall. If someone were to walk into her home, they would know someone lived there.

Addilyn turned towards the door when she heard it open behind her.

“How did you sleep?” Bradley asked as he walked in and kissed her head.

Coming home from a run to a pretty girl in nothing but his old navy t-shirt was a sight he knew he could get used to.

“I slept fine.”

“You want something to eat?”

Addilyn shook her head. “I can’t stay long. I’m meeting Della in an hour to try cake samples.”

“Shouldn’t Christopher be trying the cake with her?”

“Usually yes, but just because he’s an Admiral’s son doesn’t mean he can just not show up to training because he has to try cake-”

Addilyn honestly couldn’t imagine that this wedding would’ve been planned at all if Christopher had to help plan anything. She loved him like a brother, always had, but when it came to things like wedding planning, he was totally hopeless. Addy also knew that all he really cared about was making sure Della was happy, they could’ve gotten married at the courthouse in jeans for all he cared, but he knew Della wanted an actual wedding so he’d left everything up to her.

“-So I’m stepping up. Besides, he doesn’t really care what kind of cake is at his wedding, he just wants to get married.”

Addilyn sighed when she heard her phone buzz, she knew before she even walked into his kitchen to grab it from the charger that it was probably Della or Presley wondering where she was, because of course they’d be somewhere early the one day she wasn’t running behind.

“Fucking great. We also have to find a replacement groomsman for me to walk with since Andrew apparently can’t make it. What a flake, I told Christopher this would happen. Andrew is literally the most unreliable person on the face of the earth.”

Honestly, once Della and Christopher were married Addilyn was taking at least two weeks to herself, and in that time she didn’t even have to hear the word wedding it would be too soon.

“So you need a date for the wedding?”

Bradley wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder before kissing her neck.

“I guess you could say it that way. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone would you?”

Bradley rolled his eyes playfully at her. “Don’t play with my heart like that baby girl.”

She smiled and leaned her head back against his chest, “would you really be willing to go as my date and be in a wedding where you don’t know anyone?”

“I think the real question here is are you okay with that? I mean are you ready for people to know we’re seeing each other? Because the moment we show up at a wedding, together I think people will know something’s going on.”  

Addilyn hadn’t thought about that. The second she mentioned having a replacement for Andrew after only just finding out he was flaking out, and not totally overreacting to something going wrong, her friends would know something was up. They couldn’t keep their relationship a secret forever, though she had really enjoyed keeping Bradley all to herself. “I’ll mention it to Della.”

—

The night of the wedding was beautiful. It was stressful arriving to the day, but they’d made it which was what mattered at the moment, and thankfully the day went by with only one hitch.

“You’re a lifesaver Bradley!” Della called as she saw her friend's apparent boyfriend followed by all the other groomsmen carrying bags of ice and taking it to where it needed to be.

Addilyn smiled to herself as she continued to curl Della’s hair at the sight of Bradley in his uniform. Honestly, it was enough to turn her on, but she had to keep her composure, at least until they made it back to her house after the wedding. The only thing Christopher had decided on regarding the wedding was that he wanted all service members in their uniforms, and personally, Addy was thankful for that.

“Are you going to be okay out there with your man looking as good as he does?” Della winked at Addy through the mirror.

“Girl I wouldn’t be. There are so many fine ass looking men here tonight I don’t know if I’m going to make it. And yes Addy your man is one of them.” Presley had always been a sucker for a man in uniform. “You know you’re going to have to tell us how you two met right? And how I can get one of my own.”

Addy bumped shoulders with Presley and rolled her eyes. “Thankfully, there are plenty of other nice looking men in uniform here tonight for you to choose from Pres. And can you go tell them we’re almost ready.”

“Fine. Another time I suppose.”

Presley disappeared for a short period to inform everyone else that things were about to start so everyone should take their seats and get ready.

“You ready?”

Della looked at herself in the mirror. It was happening. She’d actually made it. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Addilyn linked her arm with Bradley’s trying her hardest to breathe and focus on getting through the wedding, not on how amazing Bradley looked and smelled currently.

Throughout the ceremony Addilyn had to keep her eyes focused on Della and Christopher to avoid Bradley’s eyes, though she could feel him looking at her the entire time. She was going to be putty in his hands before the night was over if he didn’t stop.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Bradley hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of Addilyn all day. He was pretty sure he loved her in her dress only slightly less than her in his old gray Navy t-shirt. Honestly, Bradley would give almost anything to take things to the next step with her tonight. He’d try to make a move right now if it weren’t for the fact that they were at a wedding so there wasn’t anywhere they could sneak off to, that also didn’t seem like something Addy would be into.

“Care to dance?”

Addilyn glanced up to look at Rooster before she took his hand so he could lead her to the dance floor once it was open for dancing.

His one hand rested on her waist, the other held her hand and he held her body close to his as he led their bodies to the music.

“Who taught you how to dance?” Addilyn followed his lead letting Bradley twist and dip her when necessary. Jason never would’ve done this with her. He probably would’ve complained the whole time about how he didn’t even want to be there. She knew he wouldn’t have asked her to dance with him, and then if she would’ve danced with whatever groomsman she walked with Jason would’ve lost his mind out of jealousy and they would’ve fought the entire way home. But with Bradley, things were different.

“My mom,” he whispered, “she loved to dance. She used to tell me that one day I’d thank her for teaching me how and putting me in a dance class, and I wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“And did you ever thank her?”

“I did.”

Addilyn rested her head against Bradley’s chest as they eventually swayed to the music, which made him even harder to resist in the moment. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed out on the dance floor, dancing to different songs, chatting about different aspects of their childhood. But it was long enough for them to be one of the last couples still out on the dancefloor as people had finally left, and Addilyn didn’t care. She wouldn’t have traded that time for anyone.

–

Addilyn climbed into the passenger seat of Bradley’s ford bronco with a brightest smile on her face. Her best friends had finally tied the knot which truthfully she already felt the stress of the whole thing lifted from her shoulders now that the wedding was over. Plus, she had her lovely boyfriend to spend the rest of the evening with.

The car ride back to her house was quiet aside from the soft melody coming from the radio in Bradley’s Ford Bronco. He had one hand on the steering wheel and his other was resting in Addilyn’s hand in the middle console, their fingers laced together as per usual.

As he put the Bronco in park, he turned and smiled expecting their night to end there, this was usually when the night ended. There had been a few times he’d stopped by and they’d watched a movie or after a long day of training she’d have him over to eat, going on about how he couldn’t live off the shit he had at his house and needed real food. Twice he’d stayed the night only to be up and gone the following morning before Addy had even woken up leaving her feeling no better than when he didn’t stay over. But tonight was different.

Bradley’s free hand was reaching over to brush her hair out of her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. Then his hand was cupping her cheek and his thumb grazed against her lips and they parted open ever so slightly, and as if that was the sign he needed Bradley leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against hers feeling her melt against him. He smirked against her lips when he heard the moan in her throat pulling away to pepper a few kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and onto her exposed shoulder thanks to the dress she was wearing, which did in fact make it harder for him to resist her.

“Do you wanna come in?” Her voice was breathy, and they both knew what was going to happen if he went inside. But he wanted to. So he forced himself to pull away from her long enough so he could get out of the Bronco and help her out.

Once inside Addilyn kicked off her shoes to make it a little easier to walk, but it made it slightly harder for her to reach Bradley’s lips as he was so much taller than her. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arm around his neck so their lips could meet again. Bradley’s arms wrapped around her waist until his hands were resting on her hips and if they moved forward anymore, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.

Addilyn could sense his hesitation, but she knew this was what she wanted. So she took his hand and led him down the hallway to her bedroom. Then she took his hand and guided it to the slit in her dress hoping he’d get the picture.

Bradley ghosted his fingers over her thigh hoping he left goosebumps against her skin before he rested his hand right above her lacy panties playing with the hem as he walked them towards the bed until the back of her legs hit the bed.

Addy could feel herself throbbing between her legs craving him to touch her and as if he could read her mind he slipped his hand into her panties so he could rub her until she moaned and told him what she wanted. “Bradley, I need you.”

“Anything for you baby girl.” He whispered against the crook of her neck and her shoulder as he slipped a finger into her. “You like that?”

“Mmm” was the best response she could give him as she bucked her hips against his finger already drunk off his touch.

He eventually slipped another digit into her and lifted her off the bed so they could reposition themselves. He sat down then pulled her onto his lap moving his fingers just a little faster.

“Bradley.” She moaned, moving her hips closer even rubbing herself down against his thigh for just a little more friction.

“Atta girl.” he said, “you can do it.” he told her moving his free hand up her back so he could find the stupid zipper on her dress. Nearly losing himself when he heard her moan his name as she hit her orgasm and came on his fingers and his leg not even caring. He dragged his fingers out of her panties eliciting the smallest of moans from her smirking to himself as he felt her still rubbing herself against his thigh.

“Mm Baby Girl, we gotta get this dress off of you.” Bradley told her standing her up so he could finally get the damn thing unzipped and it fell to the ground. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of her. He wanted his hands all over her, but first he also needed to be undressed.

“No, let me.” She told him walking in between his legs to help him take his clothes off. He eventually scooted back onto her bed a little more before resting his hands on her hips and drifting them up her body until his hands were cupping her breasts. He smirked when she moaned and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself when he gave them a little squeeze. Finally he used one hand to pull her panties down until she could kick them off and out of the way, then she positioned herself into his lap and slowly let herself settle on him.

Addilyn’s head fell forward, resting on his shoulder leaving a small kiss before her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and her hips bucked closer to him. Bradley groaned in pleasure of being inside of her. His hands rested on her hips and he let her control how fast they moved, matching her speed, until she finally pushed his shoulder back so he was laying down completely so she could press herself down further onto him, stretching around him. One of Bradley’s hands stayed on her hip while the other moved back up to squeeze her breast and thumb over her nipple. “You feel good Baby Girl?” he asked, bucking his hips up when her hand went on his chest to steady herself.

Addilyn nodded her head, “so good,” she moaned, “Bradley. So fucking good.” She breathed. “Fuck. Bradley. You feel so good,” she moaned, moving her hips a little faster, grinding them as close to his as she could.

“You gonna cum baby girl?” He asked now holding her hips with both hands to help her out.

She nodded again.

“Atta girl.” he said, rubbing his thumbs over her hips as she rode it out. And the sounds she made sent him over the edge as well.

Finally, out of breath Addilyn leaned forward so she could rest her head against Bradley’s chest and listen to his heartbeat, but she didn’t roll off of him honestly just enjoying the feeling of him inside of her without moving.

At first Bradley had expected Addilyn to remove herself from him, but when she didn’t and instead rested her head on his chest, he couldn’t help but gently run his hand over her hair and let his head fall back into the bed content with the current situation. One hand stroked up and down her back loving the feeling of her soft skin under his fingertips, but not as much as he loved the feeling of being inside of her. Nothing was happening, but it was the most intimate he’d ever been with someone.

A little time passed before he felt Addilyn rub her hips against his causing a little friction between them and Bradley took his shot. In one fell swoop he had them flipped over so he was looking down at her. His hand moved up her leg and he could feel her getting excited around him. He smirked as he leaned forward to capture her lips with his own as he also moved her leg up and over his shoulder giving himself a little more leverage so he could go a little deeper. His lips smirked against her skin as he kissed along her jaw and towards her collarbone as he moved his hips against her, when he heard the pleasure he was providing to her escape her pretty lips. “You’re doing so good for me baby girl.” he whispered against her skin before his lips found the perfect spot to suck until he knew there’d be a mark there for at least a few days.

Addy’s fingers were wrapped tightly around her sheets and she could feel her toes curl every time Bradley moved against her and she didn’t want him to stop. She couldn’t even form coherent thoughts let alone words, but Bradley didn’t mind. Just hearing her moan was enough to keep him going.

Her head fell back as she felt herself getting closer to the edge, she was throbbing around his cock and knew it wouldn’t be long before yet another orgasm washed over her. She tried bucking her hips up so she could feel more of him or something before she felt him move her other leg over his shoulder so he could go as deep as possible as they both went over the edge.

And the most amazing noise escaped her as she loudly moaned his name. “Atta girl. Finish strong.”

Once they were done Bradley pulled himself apart from her and leaned forward so he could kiss her one more time, then he pulled her in close to his chest silently wishing they could stay like this forever.

Addilyn pressed her lips softly against his chest before she nuzzled herself close to him. She knew she loved him at this moment, there was no doubt about it.

—

“Hey this is Bradley I’m obviously busy so leave a message.” Followed by a beep.

“I know I’m the last person you probably want to talk to right now. But I really need you to call me back, please.”

Cassie hung up after she left the first message running her fingers through her hair. She hadn’t expected him to answer. With the way things ended between herself and Bradley she expected he never wanted to speak to her ever again. Truthfully she didn’t want to see or speak to him either. But she was trying to be the bigger person here.

There was no denying that the last year, at least, of their relationship was nothing but toxic. It was on both of them, though during the break up neither really wanted to take ownership over messing up the other. Just another reason they clearly shouldn’t stay together.

This wasn’t how she’d wanted her life to go. Honestly, she wanted to move on from Bradley all together. Let him be another girl's problem, but currently he is still her problem, apparently.

“I got his voicemail.”

“Well, don’t give up. He needs to know.”

Cassie knew her friend was right. It was wrong of her to not tell him. Even though she was sure it wasn’t what he was expecting if she didn’t tell him she’d feel more guilty. So she called him again.

“Trying again, please call me back.”

Cassie waited at least half an hour before she called a third time. At this point she was annoyed. It wasn’t late, so he had to be ignoring her.

“Listen Bradley I’m not sure if you’re dodging my calls or you’re actually busy and just haven’t gotten them. But I wouldn’t be calling you if this weren’t important so please call me back.”

When it was finally clear that he wasn’t going to call her back, and so she didn’t totally lose all her nerve she decided to just text him. It was not the best way to communicate what she needed, but it was either this or he wouldn’t know.

I’m pregnant.

Tag List: 

@eddiemunscns​ @shrimping-for-all​

@fangirlofallthings22​ @luckyladycreator2​ @mizzzpink​

If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know! And if you’ve asked to be included in the tag list and are not please also let me know as I’ve been having some trouble with tagging people! But I promise I’m not purposely leaving anyone out! 

[sweeterthanyou-blog]

i’ve had this aftg hc/fic stewing in my head for a while and I’m not much of a writer so I’m gonna lay it out here instead :)

setting the scene:

- it’s christmas-time during Neil’s sophomore year at psu. the year had a rocky start but with their win against the ravens and their return to the court in the fall, Neil has settled into this new life quite nicely

- this year, in an effort to make up for Andrew and Neil’s absence last year, the upperclassmen (along with Nicky) arrange a secret Santa among the foxes, to be given at a final fox dinner at abbeys the first night of winter break (before everyone goes their separate ways for the holidays)

- someone (probably Nicky) arranges it so Neil has Andrew because why not

now some gritty stuff:

- Neil doesn’t like the holidays. He usually thinks nothing of it, but this year the foxes are determined to celebrate the holidays. Despite all this cheer, Neil has a Bad Day (tm) beginning at the exy winter banquet that won’t go away.

- he tries to hide it, and is mostly successful as the foxes assume it’s purely memories of the previous year and his time at castle evermore resurfacing

- while this definitely is contributing to Neil’s overall declining mental state, there’s more to it

- during his early childhood, the Wesninski household didn’t celebrate Christmas (it was a busy time of the year for Nathan and he didn’t care to indulge in happy holiday celebrations). Neil, knowing no better, didn’t notice

- until he begins kindergarten (as an Aussie I hope that’s the correct US term). he learns all about the wonders of Christmas, he makes friends who whisper excitedly what they hope to get from Santa. On the last day before winter break, his whole class is allowed to watch a Christmas movie and colour in (all round the best day of his life)

- he goes home, ready to demand that they celebrate the holiday, interrupts his father during important business, Nathan proceeds to teach his son a lesson, and from then on Nathaniel is homeschooled and the thought of Christmas doesn’t cross his mind again.

- until he is ten years old. he’s at the age where he spends as much of his free time outside as he can, despite the cold. what he really wants is to play a sport, a way to release all his pent up energy (that does NOT include knives). Nathan, unusually happy, surprises Nathaniel one day. An early Christmas present, he exclaims. Nathaniel will begin in the Exy little leagues. Nathaniel is taken aback, but inside is a tiny spark of hope. He falls in love with exy, plays with Kevin Day and Riko. He and his mother run away. While on the run Christmas becomes once again just another thing he can never have.

- basically Christmas = bad memories

- this year, Neil knows Christmas will be different. The foxes make it mean something. But the bad days aren’t ending. It’s making him restless. Which scares him. He doesn’t want to be a rabbit anymore, and yet he can feel his body itching to grab his duffle bag and run.

- he manages to bottle everything down until the first day of winter break. That night, presents will be exchanged, but with all his mental battles Neil has yet to find something for Andrew.

-Andrew, who has been the only thing holding Neil up for so long. Andrew, who Neil knows can sense that something is off, but who respects Neil enough to give him space until he is ready.

- until today. Andrew finds Neil on the roof after a particularly long run. Lights a cigarette and stares at Neil.

- they have their heart to heart. Neil “self-sabotage” Josten finally opens his eyes and stops bottling down his emotions. Andrew told him to stay and he will.

- though there is one last thing he has to do first. It’s almost time to head to abbeys, but Neil tells Andrew he’ll meet him there.

- of course Neil arrives late to the party, drinking is in full swing, Nicky is wearing an awful Christmas sweater, presents are on a table ready for secret Santa.

- Neil finds Andrew outside by the fire, cigarette in hand, waiting for him. He hands over the gift in his hands.

- Andrew, curious as ever, opens it to find Neil’s binder.

- Neil’s binder, which contained everything he needed while on the run, fake ids, numbers for his mothers contacts, (everything you need to know about Kevin and Riko), minus all the money safely tucked away back in their dorm.

-Neil and his way with words: “this was all I had on the run, and I don’t need it anymore” it’s a promise that though he will have bad days, will feel jittery and as though his only option is to run, he won’t. Because Andrew told him to stay and because Neil wants to stay.

- he tells Andrew to toss it in the fire. Andrew rolls his eyes and goes to give it back. He doesn’t need this kind of promise, he already knows. But Neil asks again.

- Andrew gives in, tosses it in the fire and that’s that. They go back inside, join the foxes, and Neil experiences his first real Christmas with his family :))

[luxshine]

Going back to Stranger Things 3 and the episode opens with my favorite squad, the Scoops ahoy team, aka. the anti-russian squad, aka. the ones with one working brain -that'd be Robin's- and the collective braincell that the other squads don't use -that'd be Dustin's.

And yep, as I said, Dustin has the working braincell. Steven must be so proud of his little adoptive son even if they are in a deep shit situation.

Meanwhile back with the not-emotionally stable adult squad, I really wish Joyce had accepted Hooper's offer for a job. At least then she'd had a gun.

Coming from RRR, the fact that I have now again a series that has a serious lack of communication due to different languages is hilarious. But at the same time, stupid russians, they should send only agents who can, and will speak english to be able to be unnoticed by the local police.

Oh, finally a russian who speaks english.

A russian who has obviously seen a lot of copaganda shows because if there's one thing that cops love to do is shoot people, armed or not (yes, I know Hooper wouldn't shoot him, but still)

Is Russian guy's name Terminator? I feel it should be Terminator.

Oh, hey, Nancy AND Jonathan have finally clued in that there's something wrong going on.

Joyce trying to communicate with the Russian is hilarious.

I KNOW that the show is trying to shove the Hooper/Joyce ship but Hooper is not doing his work for it to work with me.

I LOVE that Max is the one who cares for El when Mike is just, in Max's words, BLA BLA BLA. Count me as the lone El/Max shipper because those two make more sense than El/Mike.

Will needs better friends, and better taste in men.

Dustin is a bit too dramatic. And a bad shipper because Robin and Steve is no going to happen. They;re siblings.

UGH. Robin I agree.

I take away what I said about Erica's braincell. She is not smart if she is planning to drink a glowing green neon stuff that doesn't say Gatorade on the bottle.

Go Steve super Nanny!

I really don't think Alexei is going to survive the hiking trip. But he's far more sympathetic than Hooper right now.

Oh, the bavarian fire drill with Todd was fun.

Robin is a nerd too. I love her. Steve needs to start learning to speak his child's language.

Jonathan and Nancy are not that good as babysitters. They don't even look comfortable with the Children's squad.

I see that Will is the one with custody of the collective braincell right now.

Murray speaks Russian! Wow. And he has gone a bit more paranoid than before. Not that I blame him.

Joyce Wheeler is the BAMF. I don't think she will like to know that Murray got her baby to sleep with Nancy.

The Anti-Russian Squad is amazing. They're in deep shit, but they're amazing. Of all the groups in this season, they're the ones who had advanced their part of the campaign the most. And all they have is cute uniforms, a walkie talkie, a unicorn bagpack, and gumption.

Robin using the only words in Russian she knows was great. Steve doing his usual Super Nanny adrenaline moment was perfect. And Dustin being so happy because his adoptive dad won a fight? AWWWW.

Also, I see Russia has no awareness check, or they all botched it because man, the anti-Russian squad is NOT good at hiding.

SIgh, And Jonathan is back in the clutches of Nancy. SIGH.

Lucas is worse at romantic advice than Steve and I thought that was a record.

Fuck. The Flayed are stronger than usual, I see. And now Nancy has a VERY good reason to go postal on her coworkers.

Will is a good friend. Mike doesn't deserve his love and loyalty.

OTOH, the Mind Flayer has a good strategy. You control the media, you control the world. (Not that the media he is controlling was that good)

Yeah, Jonathan is not as good as Super Nanny Steve. Who I know I promoted to Adoptive Dad, so I need to make that official. Congratulations, Dustin, your Super Nanny evolved into Adoptive Dad.

IF Nancy and Jonathan end up flayed while Mike is making puppy eyes at Eleven, I will scream.

Hivemind problems... you don't keep a body that your heroine has NO reason to keep alive.

THAT was very cathartic.

Oh, wow, FINALLY the kids notice. And of course, it was Will, not the lovey couples.

All I have to say is YUCK at the Mind Flayer's sort of real form. It is VERY uhm... Have you seen the game Deadly Premonition? It reminds me of the red vines that appear in the other world there.

And well, now it's time to get this in gear as there are only 3 episodes left in the series before I get to Stranger Things 4

[the-autistic-vulcan]

Domestic Bliss (Classic!Loki x GN!Reader)

Nexus Masterlist

Description: when newly settled into your apartment, both you and Classic!Loki lament over a glass of rich wine

warnings: mentions of the void, angst, a bit of fluffy marriage banter, doting over Kid!Loki and Alligator Loki

a/n: richard e. grant is hot, y’all just too scared to admit it

a/n: this is also the first one in the Nexus AU fics so yeah

Leaving the void was the best decision you made.

But it didn’t mean it did not leave bitterness to new beginnings. Settled in a small apartment, at a tall building, with nothing but illusion cast beds, couches and dishes - along with your husband, your somewhat son and his pet - things did sting a little.

It was late, approaching 11.30 at night, you sat on a chair in the kitchen scrolling mindlessly through your phone that you snagged from the downstairs appliance cabinet, eventually growing board, placing your face into your hands, only to dote on the beautiful gold and green ring on your finger.

You wallowed for a moment. Perhaps a drink, You thought - why waste the night away, right?

You got up and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the top cabinet and a glass, it was slightly dirty, but, to be completely honest, you had zero energy to do something about it. You poured near to the rim, until you were interrupted by the sound of flip-flops.

“A drink?” said the voice, “Without me?” 

It was your husband. You turned and smiled, pulling a second glass from the cabinet, pouring only half way. He sat on the chair across from you, swallowing the dark substance to ask:

“Are you worried?”

A pretty basic question at best, even for a Loki it was basic.

“Why?” You ask, “Did the ‘drinking wine in the dark alone’ act give it away?”

You both chuckle.

“Possibly. It isn’t often that I witness my beloved so distant like this - what’s on your mind?”

You turn to look at the couch, seeing the young boy and his alligator cuddled up and sleeping peacefully like kittens, Loki turns to the couch, then to you. “He will grow up as normal. It’ll just be different than the usual upbringing of a prince.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll be safe.” You finish the glass. “We left the void, we escaped and they will find us-”

“-To tell you the truth...we left the void because we didn’t let them define us - think of it like this, you were the one that suggested we left, and it was the best decision we made.”

He gets up from his seat to pull your face closer to his, you stood up, wrapping you arms around him, you placed your head into the crook of his neck.

“I left because I want to rebuild my life - and I will finally get to do that - with you and the boy, and the alligator.”

“He needs to learn how to at least turn into a cat.” You laughed, embracing each other with a firm kiss on the lips, he was gentle, but this was a new type of gentle.

All of this was new, but now it didn’t hurt.

[thomasmoreton]

Like Father, Like Son

If there was one place where I really knew my father, it was in the remote wilderness of Tasmania’s Central Highlands. It was not at home, where we’d watch an endless stream of films together; nor was it when he came to my football games, where he’d coach me from the sideline, much to our mutual frustration. It was only when the roar of the suburbs was replaced with the breeze whipping across the Plateau that I understood who he truly was. We would wake just before sunrise, stuff gear into our packs, bag up our lunches, and I would fill our water bottles. He’d make his breakfast: tomatoes and cheese on toast, as I dumped a serve of muesli and yoghurt into my bowl. Dad would take a bite of his toast, seeming to attempt to use x-ray vision on the packs sat at the door, before asking me if I had remembered spare socks and if my raincoat was easily accessible. Expecting this query, would I spoon some muesli, confirm that I had indeed packed them and yes it was, and chowed down on my cereal. He’d nod to himself, sip his coffee, and take another bite of his toast. 

            We’d drive for hours to reach some of Tasmania’s most remote places to take in the untouched beauty. The drive was glaringly silent though, save for some 80s music and the road noise, conversation never quite felt natural with dad. The kilometres of asphalt would be eaten up by our ute before eventually giving way to forestry roads and gravel tracks: the ascent to the plateau—into wilderness—had begun. We’d arrive, lace up our boots, pull on our packs, set off along the trail, stop for a breather, eat a muesli bar, scale a peak or two, take some photos and head back the way we’d came. On the surface, the walk served a purpose: we wanted to discover some of the beauty we knew to be hidden in the wilderness. We would always be rewarded with a pleasant view or spectacular mountain to climb, and we would leave these natural settings feeling accomplished, refreshed, and grateful for these spaces. Further, on these walks, it was as though the transition into the wilderness was a transition into a different world; my father would open up to me. He would tell me of the places he’d seen, the memories he held closest, the passions he could rarely indulge. He even told me of his worst days—when anger or grief overcame him—I learned about the events which made my father the unwaveringly particular that man he was. 

            As we sat for a rest, Dad would identify plants which had unique features to help them survive, or comment on the particular geology of the area and how 300 million years ago glaciers deposited the stones we sat on. His voice would trail off though, he lost himself in thought quite often, the knowledge came to him almost subconsciously, so I knew there was more thinking happening beneath. I would prod him to continue, snapping him from his introspection and he would oblige. We’d often traverse peatlands—large masses of decaying organic matter—the product of a millennia of life cycles; grasses, shrubs, insects, and marsupials now feeding the smattering of cushion plants scattered across the Western half of the state. My father would stop every so often to carefully walk a couple of metres off the track and crouch, being careful not to step on the delicate flora. After a few seconds, he might call out to me and silently direct my gaze to a small burrow to the side of some buttongrass with a tilt of his head. He’d quiz me on which marsupial I thought lived there to see if I had been paying attention to his lessons. I’d crouch with him, pausing to inspect the tracks leading to the entrance before answering. Sometimes I’d see him nod, smile, and then re-join the walking trail. In these small moments—a lesson, a drink break, or lunch atop a peak—I learned of my father’s early life in England, his moving to Kenya, then finally emigrating to Tasmania, and the life he had before my brother and I showed up. These events shaped him as a boy and defined what kind of father he would be. In nature, I found a space to know my Dad, a quiet space where who he was spoke loudest.

            And I would listen, more interested in what was behind his words than the plant or rock formation they described. Collecting these memories and sorting through them now, I realise he was not simply showing me a feature of the wilderness: he was trying to share with me his passion—his own way of showing his love for me. As I write this, I can hear my own son stuffing his gear awkwardly into his walking pack, bagging up his lunch, and filling our water bottles. My father had shown me to provide for myself, if only for a day or two on a hike, not simply with packing material goods, but by engaging my capacity for understanding the value of a quiet space. A quiet space to engage with oneself and each other, to learn, to discover that the people around me are more than their awkward stubbornness, more than their domestic persona. When he showed me the plateaus and peatlands, my father understood his way to be honest with me—by stripping away the rest of society and its pleasantries and showing his incessant love for the world which lives around us. He shared his love in his way, out in the windswept wilds of Tasmania.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

<3

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

[teawaffles]

Albert’s Drinking Contest: Chapter 2

“——This is, the twentieth!”

Announcing the number of glasses he’d drained, Moran set his empty wine glass on the table with a thud.

He was still clear-headed, and able to hold a conversation. But those wild features of his were now flushed, as red as the copious amounts of wine that had entered his stomach.

“Ready to give up now, Albert?”

In his tipsy, trembly vision, Moran beheld his opponent before him.

But far from giving up, Albert was completely sober. There was no discernible change in his complexion; as if he’d started drinking right there and then, he tipped back his glass, and downed his wine with ease.

With that, they were now tied at 20 glasses each. Ignoring the man staring at him with twitching eyes, Albert called out to Louis, who was still serving as their waiter.

“No matter how many glasses I drink, this profound flavour never ceases to delight. To have procured such an excellent vintage — your selections are exquisite as always, Louis.”

“Thank you very much. As I recall, this is an import from America.”

“Ah: I’ve heard that the French vineyards are still afflicted with blight. [1] It’s a pity we won’t be able to enjoy their splendid red wines for some time to come; but it’s also our good fortune to have learned about the quality of wines from the New World.” [2]

“…………”

Albert was being much too relaxed, and had even started to digress into areas completely unrelated to the match; hearing that, Moran shot him a look of displeasure.

Incidentally, the challenge had been much too great for Fred: he’d been the first to pass out, flopping onto the table with his glass in hand. Immediately after, they’d covered him with a blanket so he wouldn’t catch a cold, and the man was presently fast asleep.

“Well then, both sides have managed to consume twenty glasses. It seems both of you still have room for more, but…… if I were to speak from an impartial standpoint, you appear to be at a slight disadvantage, Moran.”

Having observed their match, William leisurely shared his views.

Moran knew his analysis was unbiased, and that was precisely why he let out a groan of frustration. His face flushed, he grabbed the bottle of wine, intending to pour his next drink; but when he realised that not a single drop had trickled out, he waved the bottle in the air.

“Sorry, Louis. It’s empty, so could you bring a new one?”

“Understood.”

Louis promptly retrieved a fresh bottle, and with brisk efficiency, filled both their glasses.

“This’ll be, the twenty-first.”

As soon as his glass was full, without any intention of savouring the wine, Moran chugged it all in one breath.

But the next moment, he was swamped by an intense wave of vertigo: somehow, it seemed he was much nearer his limit than he’d thought.

In contrast, Albert merely tilted his glass, observing the colours and clarity of the freshly-poured wine. Then he swirled it once, bringing it near his nose to savour its aroma, and took a sip to taste.

“Is this a Madeira?” [3]

Standing beside them, Louis revealed the bottle label with a smile.

“Indeed — your wine tasting is accurate as always, nii-sama. Would you like some salted cheese to complement it?”

“I’d prefer to pair such cheeses with a sweet port. [4] Or perhaps we could have a chicken with that, like Sir John Falstaff.” [5]

“In exchange for one’s soul, indeed.” [6]

Watching the two brothers quote Shakespeare as they chatted, Moran was incredulous.

“……Y’know, this is a drinking match on which I’ve staked my dignity as a man — not some wine-guessing quiz at a party,” he protested.

However, in a long-suffering gesture, Albert merely shrugged.

“Although this is an earnest match, Colonel, it’ll become a dreary affair if you leave no room for entertainment. Moreover, this wine was used to toast the American Declaration of Independence, making it perfect for tonight’s celebration.” [7]

At that bit of trivia from Albert, Moran looked positively fed up.

“Oooh, if you have so much time to share your vast knowledge, then why don’t you hurry up and drink already?”

But far from being put out, an elegant smile rose to Albert’s lips.

“Oh dear; you’re in an awful rush, Colonel. Could it be a sign that you’re nearing your limit?”

“Wha……! N-No way. I can still continue.”

Albert had hit right where it hurt, and Moran uttered a groan that was rather different from before. It seemed his opponent had observed his giddy spell from earlier.

Although the match was far from over, Moran was now consumed by a crushing sense of defeat. Seeing that, Albert made a show of draining his glass at a leisurely pace.

Even after downing a substantial amount of wine, the eldest son of the Moriarty family was unruffled, and Moran shot him a complaint.

“You’re not actually drinking some deep red tea instead of wine, are ya?”

Perhaps it was because the liquor had addled his brain, for Moran put forth a suspicion that he wouldn’t normally have entertained.

To that, both William and Louis burst into laughter.

“That’s a very unique deduction, Moran,” said William, as he struggled to rein in his mirth. “But even I can’t devise a magic trick like that.”

Louis was also trying very hard to suppress his amusement. “I filled both your glasses from the same bottle: how could it be that alcohol came out one time, and tea the next? It’s so unlike you to even consider such a ridiculous idea, Mr Moran. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time to cut back on the liquor?”

“S-Shut it. I was just saying. And I’m not giving up now.”

Their teasing had completely soured his mood. Glancing to the side, he saw Fred, who was sound asleep.

“Somehow, I think he might’ve just laughed at that too……”

Moran gazed at the man he thought of as a younger brother, dead to the world with a peaceful look on his face. Then he fixed his blanket, which had slipped a little out of place.

When his two brothers had finally managed to regain their composure, Albert spoke up.

“In fact, Colonel: it would better protect your good name if we were to pretend that outlandish trick was true. Or perhaps we could give you a handicap, and allow you to alternate between wine and tea.”

“You don’t say. Then I’ll have two drinks the next round.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, coming from you. If you’re the one to set up the cause of your own defeat, then it’ll make a convincing excuse to others, I see.”

“Urgh……”

No matter what he said, Albert had a ready riposte. As such, Moran swallowed his frustration, and returned his focus to the match.

“Anyway: Louis, keep it comin’, please.”

Seeing Moran try his utmost to put on a brave front, Louis was even beginning to find that a little cute; muttering his acknowledgement, he proceeded to fill Moran’s glass once more. Then, with great force, the man poured its entire contents down his throat.

“…………”

The alcohol burned like fire as it flowed into his stomach — all of a sudden, Moran came to his senses. Placing his glass on the table, he pondered.

His vexation at the Moriarty brothers’ teasing. His alcohol-induced befuddlement. And above all, Albert’s ability to hold his liquor, which had far outstripped his expectations.

His irritation at those three things had wound up completely flustering him. But once Moran calmed down and took stock of his situation, he realised William was right: he was clearly on the back foot.

Until now, he’d been unconsciously averting his eyes from his predicament by being oddly stubborn. But this pickle wouldn’t resolve itself if he just kept running away. If he continued to drink without a scheme in mind, then in his mind’s eye, he could see the outcome plain as day: he’d be out like a light in no time.

However, if he lost, then he’d have to listen to anything the victor said. Moran had originally set that rule as a way to spur himself on, thinking that there’d be no way he would lose. But now, it had lost virtually all effect in rousing his will to fight — all that remained, was the dread of what Albert would make him do upon his defeat.

He absolutely had to win. But the way things were going, it was all but certain that he’d lose.

In that case, the only option left would be——.

Within him, that conflict crystallised into a single decision.

“William,” he said. “Won’t you join in the match? Or rather: please, join.”

“Me? But why?”

Up to this point, William had been serving as an impartial judge, and he asked that with curiosity. But Moran did not answer; instead, his expression twisted into a bitter one as he continued.

“That’s not all. On top of you joining in…… If you’re agreeable, Albert, let’s ignore the count thus far and start afresh……. This is, truly a personal…… request from me.”

That faltering reply was very much unlike him, and William broke into a meaningful smile.

Moran’s decision — was to request that they increase the number of participants, and restart the game.

Despite his frustrations, Moran was well aware that he wouldn’t be able to beat Albert alone. Hence, he thought he’d bring in more opponents to counter him: even if it was just one more person.

The other part of his plan was to reset the match. If Albert agreed to that, then compared to the two existing players, someone joining in halfway would naturally have the advantage. But from Moran’s point of view, even if he was defeated, it would still be better than having Albert directly exercise his “winner’s privilege” on him — such were his complicated emotions. It was an absurd request, to be sure; but at least he hadn’t proposed having Albert compete against the combined total of both his and the other participant’s tally: perhaps that was a reflection of whatever faint scraps of self-respect Moran still had within him.

Perceiving Moran’s complex tangle of emotions, William placed a hand under his chin and pondered.

It’d also be fun to take on his suggestion. Although he did have his role as the judge, it wasn’t as if the match had any strict rules to begin with — they could easily do without one.

However, if he were to join in, and the match were to be restarted, then both Moran and Albert would be at a disadvantage. When it came to wine, he knew his elder brother’s stomach for it was bottomless; but still, it was clearly unfair to have a new and virtually-sober participant waltz into an honest drinking match. And yet, then again, he didn’t want to dismiss Moran’s “request” out of hand.

In this situation, the best option would be——.

But the instant William made his decision, and tried to voice his answer, Louis quietly raised a hand.

“Hold on a minute. Could it be that you were thinking of taking up his suggestion, nii-san?”

“……Yes, I was just about to say that. Seeing as Albert nii-san doesn’t appear to have any issue with that.”

William looked at his older brother, seated across from Moran. Then, Albert flashed them both a slight smile. Although it would mean that he would gain a new opponent, and the contest would start again from the top, it seemed he didn’t mind one bit.

Registering Albert’s generosity, Louis pointed at himself.

“In that case, may I participate?”

“……You, Louis?” Moran asked.

Louis proceeded to explain himself briefly. “I cannot countenance the possibility — however slight — that after joining the match, my brother will end up drinking too much and impacting his health. Hence, I believe that issue will be negated if I were to join the match in his stead.”

“But in that case, I would end up worrying for your health, Louis,” said William, furrowing his brows slightly.

At his brother’s kindness, Louis unwittingly cracked a smile.

“It makes me very happy to hear that. But it’s rare to hear Mr Moran make such a serious request, and so I can understand how you’d want to help him out. Of course, as Mr Moran said: this is only if you’re agreeable, Albert nii-sama.”

“Alright. Having heard that much, I shan’t object,” replied William. “What about you, nii-san?”

His elegant smile unfaltering as ever, the eldest son of the Moriarty family nodded.

“I don’t mind. If you’re certain, Louis, then I shall respect your decision.” Then, Albert’s expression turned solemn. “However, as you mentioned yourself, you absolutely must not reach the point of destroying your own health. Even though the colonel can’t help it, Louis, my condition is that you cannot drink recklessly. Is that alright?”

“Understood, nii-sama. ——Well then, it’s settled.”

Nodding in assent, Louis quietly took a seat beside Moran. Absorbing how his ridiculous request had been granted, more than gratitude, Moran’s expression was one of astonishment.

“Is this really alright, Louis? I know I was the one who asked, but Albert’s no pushover. If we lose, then you’ll have to suffer the forfeit too……”

However, Louis smiled wryly as he replied.

“I already knew that when I asked to join, didn’t I? To be honest, I don’t want to stand opposed to either you or Albert nii-sama. But now that I’ve made my decision, I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

“……Louis.”

That resolve had shaken Moran, so much so that he began to tremble. Watching him out the corner of his eye, Louis filled both their glasses; then Albert too filled his glass by himself, and raised it toward the two of them.

“Well then, once again, let’s give it our all.”

“I won’t be holding back either, you two.”

“Oh, both of you will be sorry real soon.”

Having gained a dependable ally, Moran’s enthusiasm was now back in full force.

Looking at the three of them, William spoke.

“So with Louis’s entry, the contest shall start again from scratch. But for both Moran and Albert nii-san, the next glass will be your twenty-third: please take care not to injure your health.”

With that word of caution from William, the drinking contest had resumed.

Footnotes:

[1] French vineyards had been devastated by aphids in the mid-19th century, and then fungal diseases after that. (Wikipedia)

[2] The “New World” refers to the Americas, in contrast to the Old World, or Eastern Hemisphere of the Earth. (Wikipedia)

[3] Madeira is a fortified wine made on the Madeira Islands, off the African coast. (Wikipedia)

[4] Port is a fortified wine produced in the Douro Valley in Portugal. (Wikipedia)

[5] Sir John Falstaff is a character featured in several of Shakespeare’s plays. (Wikipedia) He is renowned as a drunkard and glutton, whose favourite food is capons — roosters reared specially for their meat. (BBC article)

[6] A reference to Faust, who traded his soul with the Devil in exchange for worldly pleasures. (Wikipedia)

Aside: As far as I can tell, this line doesn’t actually appear in Shakespeare’s works. But in the legend of Faust, Faust makes his pact with the Devil via the demon Mephistopheles — who is mentioned in Shakespeare’s play The Merry Wives of Windsor (Wikipedia), which stars Sir John Falstaff as its main character.

[7] This is apparently true: Wikipedia

[itsany62]

SteveTony - Alternate Universe

Here are some Alternate Universe fics that I love. Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

Food for the Heart, by LagLemon, 14 k >, Cooking, No Powers.

After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipes are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn't so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.

"Free to Good Home" by Captain_Panda, 7 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

"Oliver and Company" AU.

There's a great big world outside the box.

But it's a dog-eat-dog world, and Tony's just one cat. Then a stray dog comes along, looking for a friend.

A Day In Principal Stark's Office, by nannersmelo, 10 k > words, Steve Single Parent, Director Tony.

Tony Stark has his hands full with not only Stark Industries, but also his beloved mother's life project: The Maria Stark Academy, and as he enters his office in order to deal with a ferocious mother whose son was apparently assaulted by one of his brightest students, he was sure this day would culminate in nothing but a heinous headache. Little did he know - he was in for one hell of a surprise.

I Am the Night by gottalovev, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Tony Stark, Wizard Steve Rogers.

That's it. Tony is doomed. He rolls on his back, crosses his wings over his belly and closes his eyes. He'll await death here, misunderstood by the world to the bitter end.

C is for Calculus and Compromise, by heydoeydoey, 11 k>, Gifted AU, Post-Divorce, Angts with a Happy Ending.

Steve's just trying to give his prodigy daughter a normal childhood. Enter a meddling school administrator, Tony Stark, and too many lawyers.

tell you my love for you by jelliebean, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Based on Love Simon.

A guy at Shield High comes out on tumblr, anonymously. Tony thought he was the only gay guy on campus--not out, because of Howard--and sends him an email.

“Hey, Flying. Same here. I’ve got a secret too, and it’s like I’m hiding who I am, every day. From everyone. All the closest people to me. But I just can’t tell them. I’m gay, too. It feels like I’m putting on this mask, this shell of who I think they want me to be. Even though I don’t think my friends would judge me. I don’t know why. I just. I’ve got a secret. –Shell”

The guy seems great--amazing, even, and then Hammer has to step in and ruin it all.

Mergers & Acquisitions by Robin_tCJ, 33 k > words, Angst, sex as currency.

Steve Rogers is the CEO of the Rogers Corporation, which he built from the ground up. When he learns that Hydra International is making a bid for a hostile takeover of Stark Industries, he decides he has to do what he can to stop Hydra from overtaking the market and becoming an unstoppable, unethical conglomerate. Tony Stark asks for something Steve isn’t sure he should give, but he does it anyway – and it completely changes everything. But when Hydra keeps coming, Steve and Tony realize there’s more to this than they’d realized.

Meeting the Monsters by itsallAvengers, 23 k > words, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters.

Tony's at public school with kids his age for the first time in seventeen years, and he is determined that this year is gonna be his year. He's going to make friends. He's going to be popular. People will like him.

Unsurprisngly, none of that actually happens.

He does sort-of-maybe fall in love with a vampire in his class that everyone is terrified of, though. So... there's that.

(I Want You To See) The Darkest Side Of Me by ann2who, 45 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Post-World War II.

In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.

Gift With Purchase Remix by sabrecmc, 43 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, hooker Steve, Sugar Daddy.

Gift With Purchase Remix wherein Steve actually is a hooker. But for a Really Sympathetic Reason.

The Little Glass Screwdriver by ann2who, 19 k > words, Cinderella AU.

When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.

**Cinderella AU**

Covered in Lines by royal_chandler, 3 k > words, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - College/University, Age Difference.

He can’t lose sight of pale, deft hands that gesture on transitive verbs, an ink-stained thumb edging underneath Tony’s ribcage with an affection that can only be called dangerous.

half-wild and glimmering by deathsweetqueen , 15 k > words, Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution.

“Give me a drink, Tasha,” Tony sighs as he lands in front of the bar. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Have you really?” she asks, loftily, sliding a tumbler of whiskey along the well-polished wood.

Tony lets his head hang, the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put myself through today,” he sighs, wearily.

“I would not know. You will not let me work the rooms,” Natasha retorts, her voice a little strained, busying her hands in a dirty glass.

“I don’t let you work the rooms ‘cause you’re liable to kill anyone who touches ya the wrong way and we can’t lose that much of our business,” Tony reminds her, wryly amused, sipping at his whiskey. He shakes his head at the burn. “We peddle flesh, darling, not death.”

peers, fears and holiday cheers by jacobby, 24 k > words, Parent Tony Stark.

“He’s only two years older than you,” Tony finally says when the silence becomes too much to bear.

“Dad, Teddy is turning twenty-seven next year.”

“I am not dating your husband—”

“I’m not implying you are. I just want you to be...aware that he’s practically the same age as my husband.”

AKA

Tony Stark's new boyfriend is only two years older than his adult sons. Telling them is one thing, introducing them is another. What Tony doesn't expect is that the past always has a way of catching up to him, of biting him in the ass when he least expects it. Well, at least they're all together for the Holidays. What more can he ask for?

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc, 292 k > words, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Romance.

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo, 10 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, actor Tony Stark.

Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be by iam93percentstardust, 72 k > words, Alternate Universe - Theatre.

Famed director Phil Coulson brings Shakespeare’s beloved play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to Broadway. This production though comes with a twist: a brief but passionate love affair between the faerie king, Oberon, and his attendant, Puck. In the roles of the two star-crossed lovers, Coulson casts America’s darling Steve Rogers, fresh off his third Academy Award, and Broadway royalty, Tony Stark. Steve quickly finds himself falling for the quick-witted and sarcastic actor but Tony is dating the stage manager. Unwilling to come between the seemingly happy couple, Steve steps back but all isn’t right behind the scenes and Tony may need him when everything falls apart.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza, 26 k > words, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Soulmates, Mutual Pining.

Sometimes, a voice whispers: you will never atone for your mistakes.

Tony believes that, believes it so strongly some days he drowns in it, but he still tries. Tries through Starfleet, tries through inventions, tries through missions. Then, one day, he meets his new Captain, and things change.

and teach this heart (how to beat with light), by starklystar, 40 k >, AU Hospital, Single parent Steve.

Eight years ago, at a funeral with a baby's cries ringing in his ears, Tony Stark decided to turn his life around. He's a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. What's so hard to adding 'doctor' to that list? And after that, it can't be that hard to add 'husband' and 'father' too, right? But the past has a way of haunting even the very best of us, and in any universe, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers have never had an easy love.

Featuring: drama, chaos, Peter's scheming, meddling friends, and doctors learning again that the heart can never be as simple as four chambers and four valves.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc, 120 k > words, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion.

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

The Night Shift by weethreequarter , 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Hospital.

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Cake It Till You Make It by ChocolateCapCookie, 10 k > words, Kid Fic, Alternate Universe - Bakery.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have a lot in common. They're single parents, they own rival bakeries at the center of town... and they both hate each other's guts.

When a mix-up at Peter and Morgan's school has both fathers scrambling to prove they're the better baker, they do the mature, adult thing and compete in a bake-off. Between the mixing and the creaming, the baking and the icing, Steve and Tony find that hate is actually not that far from love.

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub, 31 k > words, Alternate Universe - Regency, Marriage of Convenience.

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

just a guy, standing in front of another guy by theappleppielifestyle, 12 k > words.

“It’s not real,” Tony says, still smiling, jaw twitching with effort. “The fame. It’s - I’m just a guy."

(Or, Notting Hill AU, with a twist.)

Mother of Exiles (A Titanic AU) by BladeoftheNebula, 21 k > words, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Steve said, taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing. “I met someone. A guy from first class.”

Dublin 1912: Steve Rogers is barely making ends meet, living in the tenement slums of Dublin. But a stroke of good luck gives him and his best friend the chance to change their fortune. Two tickets to America on board the RMS Titanic.

The Devil You Know by shetlandowl, 17 k > words, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Author/Novelist.

Best selling author Tony Stark revives the bodice ripper genre for a modern audience. From frisky gay cowboys to ravenous lesbian pirate queens, he consistently delivers riveting thrillers full of romance, drama, and the filthy, unapologetically kinky sex that has become his trademark specialty.

Tony has everything a man could dream of - horny, adoring fans, and boatloads of money. Or that's what he thought, until Detective Steve Rogers walks into his life and turns it all upside down.

Bears and Mountains and Lumberjacks Oh My! by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday), 24 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Lumberjack Steve Rogers.

It was supposed to be easy--go meet the reclusive artist and buy some art. And then came the broken down car. And the snowstorm. And the lumberjack with a face like a greek god. So yea, Tony is stuck in a cabin in the woods with a hot lumberjack till the storm clears. Could be worse.

Series: A Furious Vexation by Annie D (scaramouche), 18 k > words, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse.

A Steve/Tony post-apocalypse AU that exists pretty much just for the smut.

That Feline Beat by Tito11, 5 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

Presenting Steve and Tony in the Aristocats!AU

Tony and his three kittens have been kidnapped from their fancy Upper East Side apartment while their owners are away and deposited on the mean streets of Harlem. Unsure of where they are or how to get back home, they'll have to rely on street cat Steve to guide them. Will they get home safely? Will Tony's fear of abandonment cause him to drive away the best tomcat he's ever known? Only time will tell.

do you fondue? by calciseptine, 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting.

Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.

a glimpse of heaven's love by parkrstark, 13 k> words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Terminal Illnesses.

The child begins to empty his pockets. He starts to count coins on the counter. Tony huffs a little impatiently as he realizes most of them are pennies.

The cashier actually humors the kid and counts along with him. They reach 3 dollars and 54 cents before he shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, kid. There's not enough here."

The kid sounds close to crying. "I need these paints for my Papa. It's Christmas Eve and these...he doesn't have any. The doctors said he doesn't have long. I want him to have these. In case he meets Jesus tonight, I want him to paint one more time. Please."

Tony takes a step forward, arms still full of toys he's buying just because. He can cover this child's gift for his dying father. Money. Money is what he's good for.

"I'll buy them."

--

Or, the Christmas Shoes AU no one but me asked for.

If you survive first impressions, you're good to go by itsallAvengers, 3 k > words, Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - No Powers.

The first time Peter Parker-Stark sees Steve Rogers, he may or may not be standing in direct path of the man's motorcycle.

His daddy is really not going to be happy about that one.

A Rat-ional Conclusion by BladeoftheNebula, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Parent Tony Stark.

He had a strong flurry of patients throughout the morning and by the time it rolled around to noon, he was just about worn out.

He walked out into the reception, stretching until he felt a satisfying pop. “Are we done?”

Bucky checked the screen. “Just about. One more before lunch - a rat, singular.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully straight forward then. “Great, let me know when they-”

He was interrupted by the bell over the door and looked up to see a little girl cradling a small animal carrier, being shepherded through the door by easily one of the hottest men he’d ever seen in real life.

Oh wow.

Tidal Pull by sabrecmc, 97 k > words, Octopus Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked.

After the American Civil War, Union soldier Steve Rogers takes a chance on an opportunity to sail with the Stark Trading Company down in the Caribbean. During a terrible storm, his ship is lost. To his surprise, he survives, and ends up stranded on an island that isn't quite as deserted as he first thinks.

Or, a reverse Little Mermaid tale where Steve has to fall for the fish-man.

Twelve Days by elysianprince, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ghosts.

In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn't know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn't among his plans.

She kissed me by S_Horne, 1 k > words, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting.

“Your mom kissed me.”

Steve blinked awake and lifted his head from his pillow to look over at the silhouette in the doorway. “What?”

“Your mom,” Tony reiterated. “She kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said simply, “she does that.”

[angelfishofthelord]

you're nothing like him

Day 3: like father, like son

for @dadstielweek (also on a03)

set after 15x14

Jack tries to look nonchalant as he slips a pack of fruit roll ups into the shopping basket. Cas had sent him over to the next aisle to get some packs of jerky-- “because they’ll give you energy on long hunts, at least that’s what I’ve observed”--and Jack knows that if he sneaks in a few extra snacks under the black pepper-flavored jerky then Cas will pay for it. The trick is knowing the right amount; if there are more than three different candies, Cas might tell him to put some back. Last week Jack had complained of his tooth hurting, only for a second before his grace instinctively healed it, but it was too late. Cas had already heard it and the only one who would let Jack eat whatever he wanted had now turned into a wary inspector of anything that had sugar in it.

Peering over the top of the shelves Jack makes a quick survey to see Cas’ location and if there’s enough time to nab a Snickers bar. Cas is standing near the counter, head bent over a rack of what looks like greeting cards. The Gas n Sip employee is standing there, talking and gesturing enthusiastically, which is never a good sign. The last time Cas had a half hour conversation next to the drink refrigerator with a new Gas n Sip worker, giving her a run down of all the different pitfalls to avoid and shortcuts to efficiency she could make, while Jack tried in vain to nudge him towards the checkout.

Making his way over to hopefully shorten whatever monologue is already going on, Jack approaches them, only to see Cas squinting intensely at a card in his hand. “It’s for Father’s Day,” he announces, showing it to Jack like it’s a case file. “Apparently fathers have their own day of celebration. There aren’t even any requirements for them to be celebrated on this day. And,” he leans forward, “it’s not the only kind of day like this. There’s a mother’s day, too.”

“Sam and Dean never mentioned those,” Jack frowns. Birthdays and Christmas are the only ones he’s heard of before, and even those were hardly celebrated until Mrs. Butter’s feast last week. “Do you think there’s a son’s day too?”

“There’s a children’s day,” says the Gas n Sip employee, staring at both of them with that mixed expression of confusion and amusement that Jack has gotten very used to seeing by now.

“Cas,” Jack tugs on his sleeve. “Do you think Sam and Dean know about these days? Maybe we should get some of these advertisements to tell them about it.”

“They’re not ads,” the employee--his name tag says Marcus--pipes up.

Cas still has his eyebrows all slanted, the way he looks when he’s trying to understand details of a case. “Are there days for other identities? Is there a sibling day? A detective day? A Gas n Sip manager day?”

Marcus laughs. “No, but there should be.” He and Cas exchange a nod of solidarity before Cas goes back to flipping through the stack of Father’s Day cards in his hand.

“This,” Cas says, pointing a finger at one with bright yellow and blue bubbly lettering, “refers to biology, but the picture doesn’t match.”

Jack peers over to look at it. The words read “like father, like son” inside a round cartoon speech bubble spoken by two beer bottles.

“It doesn’t mean that, really.” Marcus shrugs. “It’s more about, like, character stuff you pick up from your dad. Or like personality quirks. I think it’s kinda funny.” He nods at the card. “Do you want to get this one?”

Cas turns to Jack, as if asking for his input. Jack quickly hides the hand holding a pack of Twizzlers he’s grabbed off the nearest shelf. “Huh? Oh, no, not that one. It’s not true at all.”

The slightest tint of a shadow crosses Cas’ face and he pushes all the cards back into their slot. “Let’s be on our way, Jack,” he says, motioning for the basket. “We still have a few hours to go on the road.”

“I mean, you’re nothing like my grandpa.” Jack hands the basket to Cas and then leans in to whispe, “And I’m really glad about that.”

A soft expression of relief washes over Cas’ face and he looks down into the basket, shifting the packages but saying nothing about the extra items.

Marcus puts all their things in a bag. Jack takes it and discreetly counts the number of candies, noticing that somehow Cas has managed to take out half of it while he wasn’t looking. Maybe he and all the Gas n Sip employees have a special arrangement. He doesn’t quite understand Cas’ connection to the store, but at least the fruit roll ups survived the purge.

When Marcus gives Cas his change he wishes him a “Happy Father’s Day”. Cas stills, his hand on the counter. There’s something unrecognizable in his eyes when he smiles and thanks Marcus.

Back in the truck Jack opens the bag of fruit roll ups first. He opens one but somehow doesn’t feel like eating it. The Father’s Day card hovers in his mind. “Do you think,” he begins, studiously picking at the edge of the wrapper, “that I’m anything like you?”

“I would hope not,” Cas says dryly.

Jack looks up and Cas must see the crestfallen look on his face because he adds quickly, “Jack, I’m not--look,” he twists around in his seat, “Jack, you are good and brave. You put others first and you care about their smallest needs. You are sharing and open and--and honest. And you love with your whole heart. You learned this from your mother.”

“No,” Jack hums, now biting eagerly into the sticky candy. “I got that from you, Cas.”

Cas makes that face again, the same expression he made when Marcus said happy fathers day to him, and Jack finally recognizes it. It’s partially surprise, but what’s clearest to Jack is the doubt and disbelief in his eyes. Jack remembers hearing those same notes in Cas’ voice, even before he was born, and it’s something he doesn’t know how to change.

He doesn’t know to make Cas believe that he’s the best father he could have asked for.

So instead he passes over the bag of fruit roll ups and Cas takes one with a little grin and they sit there in the truck, munching quietly. A bird flutters down and starts pecking at the leaves stuck in the windshield wipers. Cas points out that it’s a common grackle--“although there’s nothing ordinary about them”--and he goes on about the different iridescent  shades in their feathers and the corners of his eyes get all wrinkled in excitement. Jack listens and watches him and thinks I love him. So much.

[barzyyy]

I’m hella in my feels. Break my heart.

one too many.

a/n: prepare yourselves for this one. TW: includes mention of death, alcohol/heavy drinking and self-depricating thoughts. it is heavy. please read at your own discretion. my dm’s are open if anyone needs to talk!

italics = flashback.

read this first, if you haven’t already.

————————————

mat could feel the alcohol meeting his stomach. when did he become this way? he knew that he was not in a condition to be drinking as much as he was. he hadn’t eaten in at least a day. somehow the simplest tasks have become the most difficult.

it didn’t help that it was the offseason. all of his teammates were off on vacation. the jealousy quickly turned into resentment. he deleted all of his social media apps because he couldn’t bear to see anyone else happy. he locked himself inside your once shared house, alone. what used to feel like home now felt unsafe. with every corner he turned, there was something that reminded him of you. lipstick on the counter, your shoes kicked off next to the couch, he left them all in the same spot, praying that this was all a dream and that you would come walking through the door again.

he couldn’t get himself to come to terms with reality.

he drunkely stumbled to the couch, mindlessly turning on the tv and surfing through the channels. he landed on a random channel because his thoughts were overtaking him once again.

mat dreamed of being a dad. you both used to talk about starting a family of your own. would your kids have mat’s hair and your eyes? which one of your personalities would they adopt? he wanted so badly to look through the glass at a game and see you standing on the other side with your baby. he wanted to raise a son and teach him all he knew about how to play. he wanted a little girl to put makeup on him and make him sing the songs of all of her favorite disney princesses.

now, he didn’t want a family at all. you were going perfect mother. no one could ever compete with you. and now that you’re gone, he promised himself that no one would ever take your place. sure, he could have kids with someone else, but they would never be the kids he would have had with you. he didn’t want it.

it was easier to put up a wall and block out the feelings. his grief of losing you was too much for him to handle. he would rather just push everything out, experiencing nothing rather than experiencing everything all at once. every time he thought of you, another part of him was taken away. he was a shell of who he once was.

things would have been different if he had went home to you. had he not gone out to the bar with his teammates after the game, you would have never been in the accident. there would have been no reason for you to go over to your friend’s house. now, instead of remembering the celebratory reason why he went out, his memory was plagued by the phone call he received as he got the worst news of his life.

mat could feel the alcohol meeting his stomach. who was he to turn down free alcohol? getting the game winning goal in game 7 made him feel like he was on top of the world. fans in the bar were covering mat’s tab, and he was partying with all of his teammates. out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up with your caller i.d. and his favorite picture of the two of you. he picked it up and started walking through the mass of people to find a quieter place as he answered the call.

“babe, you won’t believe how many people are here! everyone is buying me drinks and-“

“hello?”

the manly voice was unrecognizable. mat stopped in his tracks.

“who is this?” he questioned.

“this is tom haltford, i’m a paramedic with the long island fire department. do you have a relationship with (y/n) barzal?” he asked.

he immediately sobered up. “she’s my wife, what is going on?” his heart was beating out of his chest.

“sir, i regret to inform you that your wife was in an accident. she was in a head-on collision with an impaired driver. she is currently being transported to nassau university medical center. do you have a safe way of getting there? i can send a police officer to pick you up.”

mat could only muster one sentence.

“is she alive?”

silence.

“i am sending an officer to your location. i am so sorry.”

what brought him out of his trance was the feeling of tears hitting his hand. he had not realized that he was crying, but did nothing to stop the onset of emotions that were to come. he buried his head in his hands, taking in the weight of the fact that you would have still been here had he not decided to go out. his shoulders heaved, but he stayed silent. he sobbed for a half an hour straight.

silence was something mat was becoming all too familiar with. he could no longer listen to the radio because every song he heard remided him of you. he didn’t dare go outside, because he couldn’t stop the jealousy that arose when he saw a couple out together. the best he could do was stay at home. his interaction was limited. when he did eat, all he did was get it delivered. even then, his options were scarce because he didn’t want to eat anything that felt significant to your relationship. he no longer ordered take out from your shared favorite thai restaurant down the street. he avoided anything that remided himself of you.

he would have teammates, family and friends text him every now and again to check in. he made it a point at your funeral to promise that he would reach out if he needed help. deep down, he knew from the beginning that those promises were as hollow as the newly-formed void in his heart.

maybe the irony of it all was that what killed you was the same thing he was using to self medicate. over time, one beer turned into to three, then six. he felt as if it was his only escape - alcohol only solidifed the numbness that he had been feeling. but tonight, he knew that he had gone overboard. there were freshly-chugged beer bottles on the table, and the only thing stopping him from taking some of your sleeping pills was his hope that you would come back for them. in addition to the beer, he was down a glass and a half of wine when his body finally began to reject the liquid. he tried to run to the bathroom, but the closest place he could make it was the kitchen sink. his stomach uncontrollably emptied itself, and he was left gasping in between his heaves. when he was done, he ran his hands under the sink and put water on his face. pulling the kitchen towel from the oven to wipe off his face, he looked up and his eyes were met with the picture on your counter from the wedding.

he was in immediate tears as he saw you walking down the aisle. your dress perfectly hugged your curves and your smile had been the biggest he’d ever seen. he felt a soft nudge from behind him.

”stay strong man, stay strong.” beau whispered, trying to help mat preserve any ounce that was left of his ego.

“bro, i can’t.” he whispered back, tears running down his face. at that point, you began to cry, and then the whole room was crying.

you both struggled through the tears to read eachother your vows. you were so impressed with how heartfelt his were.

“you helped me learn who i was outside of hockey, and i still fall in love with you every single day. ...and you’re a smokin’ 10, too. so that’s a plus.”

the after party was absolutely insane. you danced and drank the night away with your closest family and friends. you were talking to your best friend when mat came stumbling over to you, hugged you and said “can you believe we’re fucking MARRIED BABE?”

that was it. he couldn’t give up on life anymore. who he was becoming was scaring him. he knew that this is not what you would want. with a shaking hand and a breaking heart, he haphazardly picked up his phone and dialed the first number he could think of. there was an answer halfway through the first ring.

“hey man, you all good?”

inbetween sobs, his words slurred together. “beau, i need you.”

——————————————————

[rkived]

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘ 

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader 

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle​ for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!! 

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment. 

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’ 

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal. 

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened. 

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs. 

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom. 

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls. 

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though. 

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell. 

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’ 

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside. 

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper. 

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.” 

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort. 

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him? 

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner. 

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails. 

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji. 

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you? 

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly. 

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door. 

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say. 

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise. 

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“ 

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!” 

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours. 

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that? 

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love. 

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are. 

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy. 

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already. 

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked! 

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl 

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding. 

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat. 

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth. 

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.” 

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session. 

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression. 

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then. 

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.” 

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.” 

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this. 

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs. 

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver. 

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?” 

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever. 

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in. 

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you. 

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.” 

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains. 

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B. 

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences. 

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you. 

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him. 

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.” 

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?” 

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life. 

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle. 

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him. 

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before. 

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…” 

“So…,” he repeats. 

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life. 

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.” 

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling. 

“Honestly, I—“ 

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing. 

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right. 

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor. 

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully. 

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips. 

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories. 

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made. 

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl. 

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area. 

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you. 

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information? 

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity. 

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further. 

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort. 

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends. 

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion. 

Why were you kissing him then? 

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’ 

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling. 

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him. 

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle. 

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’ 

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship. 

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook. 

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’ 

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up. 

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time. 

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now. 

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service. 

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too? 

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort. 

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store. 

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity. 

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best. 

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around. 

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.  

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle. 

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough. 

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all. 

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting. 

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago. 

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter. 

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason. 

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever. 

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance. 

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened. 

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve. 

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again. 

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other. 

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right. 

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true. 

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’ 

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it. 

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’ 

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger. 

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in. 

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness. 

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin. 

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it. 

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool. 

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state,  though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.  

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature. 

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’ 

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.  

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.   

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often. 

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast? 

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him. 

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in. 

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care. 

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make. 

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going. 

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.” 

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent. 

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist. 

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago. 

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully. 

“I don’t have a—“ 

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long. 

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile. 

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. 

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck. 

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down. 

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom. 

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then. 

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high. 

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’ 

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting. 

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest. 

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen. 

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease. 

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted. 

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age. 

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough. 

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you. 

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

[bts-reveries]

young one | 17

Jungkook walks into your living room and finds you both laying on the couch, watching a movie on the tv.

“Hey,” Jungkook sighed out. To be completely honest, he was terrified of what was to come. He has never done this before and doesn’t know how mad you’d be, or how upset Sian is. He’s dreading everything right now. 

“Welcome home,” you say, eyes not leaving the cartoon on the screen. “Had fun?”

Jungkook could tell you were mad. 

“To be honest, yeah.”

It took every fiber of your being to not rage on him right now. 

“Hey buddy, can we talk?” Jungkook asks, looking down at Sian. His son slowly looks up at his dad, snuggling a little tighter into your chest.

“Go on, daddy wants to talk to you,” you whisper down at him. Jungkook extends his arm out for Sian’s hand. Sian eventually took it after a few seconds and they both walked into his room to have a private conversation.

-

“I’m so sorry for not picking you up,” Jungkook says. He was kneeling down in front of Sian as he sat on the edge of his bed. Pouting. 

“Where were you?” he says in a low voice, his head hung low.

“I was with my old friends,” Jungkook answers honestly.

“Why did you forget me?” Sian says. His lip quivering.

“I-- I’m sorry. I just lost track of time, that’s all.” Jungkook holds onto Sian’s little hands, rubbing his thumbs on the back of them. 

“Your friends made you forget…?” he says sadly. Jungkook nodded. Although he doesn’t know if Sian could see with his head down.

It was quiet for a bit before Sian spoke up again.

“I don’t like your friends…” Sian says.

Jungkook didn’t know what to say. 

But when he was about to open his mouth, Sian’s head came up and with watery eyes, what he said next broke Jungkook’s heart.

“I don’t like you anymore.”

Although he was already an adult when Sian was born, Jungkook still had a lot to learn and he, too, was growing up along with Sian. 

But as Sian got older, they became closer and closer.

More than just father and son, but as best friends.

Sian loved Jungkook more than any one (excluding you of course, he loved you just as much). But Jungkook was Sian’s best friend and hero as well. Someone he looked up to and someone he trusted with his entire heart.

Without another word from either of the two’s mouths, Sian pulls his hands away from his dad’s, quickly sliding off of the bed to run out of the room and back to you. 

Jungkook sat on the floor, stunned. 

It took him a good five minutes or so to regain composure and he finally got up off of the floor and to the living room where he found his son in your arms yet again. 

“I called in sick,” you say, looking at Jungkook from where you were on the couch. “Sian doesn’t want to stay home alone with you, I don’t want to bother our friends, so I’m just staying home.” You look away from him and look back at the tv.

Jungkook didn’t know what to say and just nodded. He was about to sit next to you but froze at what you said next.

“So feel free to call up those friends of yours.”

He tilts his head at you.

“What?” He says.

“Isn’t it my job to stay home and watch him while you go out?” you say, referring to what his friends have said before. You saw the message on his phone once and brushed it off. But you couldn’t help but bring it up right now. 

“You’re always getting one of our friends to watch Sian so you can go out while I’m at work,” you say, turning back to him. “I’m home now, so…” You shrug. “Go wild, have fun.”

-

Jungkook eventually did leave.

It was clear neither one of you wanted to see him right now, and he felt the need to give you two some space while the two of you cool down.

He didn’t go to any party, or to any of his friends. They were texting him of course, but Jungkook didn’t feel like talking to them at the moment.

So he just sat there. 

At a table outside of a 7/11. 

“There he is.”

Jungkook’s head shot up at the familiar voice. Turning around, he saw his friends walking towards him. 

Brothers I mean.

Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung all circled around the table and sat down. 

“Explain yourself,” Namjoon says, slamming a hand on the table.

“Who’s that girl?” Jin asks.

“Why’d you forget your own son at school?” Yoongi follows up.

“Is this why you got me and Jimin to watch him the other night?” Taehyung asks.

“You have time for them but not us?” Jimin pouts.

“Why are you drinking banana milk alone outside of a 7/11?” Hoseok wonders, picking up the two other empty bottles.

“Why so many questions…” Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “It was one time, I apologized, I’m sure it’s happened to a lot of people before.”

“Yeah it happened to me once,” Jimin speaks up. 

“See!” Jungkook says, pointing to Jimin. “I’m not the only one who forgot to pick up their child from school.”

“I was so scared when it happened, I thought my dad was going to leave me at school forever, I just wanted to go home,” Jimin laughs. “But then again, it happened more than once so I eventually got used to it. Turns out my dad had a situation at work which is why he would either forget or pick me up at a much later time.” Jimin shrugs. “Your situation is different though.”

“Okay but it was a one time thing that I hung out with them in the morning. They usually have work, it just so happens they didn’t today. So it won’t happen again,” Jungkook says.

“What’s gotten into you though?” Namjoon asks suddenly. “I heard you’ve been slacking off. I know you say it’s only happened a couple times but that’s a couple times too many isn’t it? You used to be on top of everything, what happened?”

Jungkook lets out a big sigh, he really doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. He barely started spending time with his friends to begin with!

“Sian and I were grocery shopping one day and bumped into an old friend of mine, a friend I had before we all became a group. We started texting again and included my other three friends and we haven’t talked since Yn was pregnant with Sian so they wanted to catch up,” he explained.

“Understandable,” Hoseok says. “But why can’t you bring Sian along when you catch up with them? Isn’t it better to be with him since you get to watch him and they get to know him too?” Jungkook laughs at that.

“They aren’t really kid people, you know? And the places we go to aren’t exactly kid friendly either.” All six guys stare at him with soulless expressions. 

“If they don’t like your child, wouldn’t that make you not like them either?” Taehyung asks. 

“They don’t not like Sian, they don’t know him yet--”

“But they don’t give him a chance either,” Yoongi interrupts Jungkook. “If someone didn’t give Hana a second look, I’d leave.”

“Isn’t that what you did to her mom,” Jin says. Yoongi silently nods.

“I’m just hanging out with my friends, what’s the big deaaaaaaallll,” Jungkook whines.

“The big deal is that you’re forgetting that you’re a dad too--”

“No I’m not!” Jungkook says, yelling at Namjoon. “Why does everyone think that?”

“Because you’re calling your friends to watch him so you can go out, you’re forgetting him at school, you’re not telling your wife where he is--”

“She’s not my wife,” Jungkook corrects Yoongi. 

“Yet,” Jimin and Taehyung says, looking at Jungkook who’s usually the one to say it right after. 

Jungkook nods, “yet.”

“What’s holding you back anyways?” Jin asks. Jungkook shrugs.

“I just don’t know if it’s the right time I guess..”

“You know what I don’t think it’s the right time for?” Yoongi says.

“What?”

“You hanging out with your friends again at the time when Yn is working so hard for your family. She’s going back to school so that she can have a better future for Sian and she’s also working late at night to provide his daily necessities. And what are you doing?” Yoongi tilts his head at the younger one.

“Forgetting your son at school,” Taehyung answers for him.

“Hanging out with your friends while you leave your son for someone else to take care of,” Jin answers as well.

Jungkook plays with the bottle in his hand, not wanting to look up at any of them.

“Look, Jungkook. We love you and your family and we honestly just want the best for you three. I know it seems like a small problem to you right now but keep doing what you’re doing and it’s just going to get bigger,” Namjoon says. “From what we heard, Yn is having a hard time balancing work, school, and you two. But she doesn’t care as long as you two are happy and that she knows what she’s doing is for the two of you’s benefit.”

“She doesn’t even have time for herself,” Hoseok says. “But I honestly don’t think she even cares about that.”

“Jungkook we know that you’re still young,” Jin says. “We know Sian came earlier into your life than you expected. We know your time was cut short and that you had to grow up all of a sudden but don’t forget that Yn is younger than you. It’s the exact same for her.”

“I heard from the girls how much she used to dream of her future and how she would have a career first, then the two of you would get married, and then have kids but everything was turned upside down when Sian came first before everything else. But she didn’t care as long as she would get everything she wanted, whatever the order may be,” Jimin says. 

“She’s working for that career, she has Sian, and she’s just waiting for you to drop the question. Seriously this time.” Taehyung says. “You all know I don’t know much about relationships, and that I barely got my turn, but if I were in your situation Jungkook… I would’ve married her a long time ago. You’re so in love, you got what you want all in your hands… what’s taking you so long?”

“I don’t know.”

That’s all Jungkook said.

“You don’t know what?” Yoongi asks him.

“I don’t know what to do. I guess..”

The six all glanced at each other before looking at the younger one.

“I- I..” He sighs, “I love my life.. The way that it is- well-- the way it was before me and Yn kept fighting, but..

I don’t know.

I love her, I love Sian, I want to marry her… one day. I don’t know when the right time is. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I knew it would lead up to the moment where I have everything figured out, then I’d have the right girl, marry her, have kids… but I have those. Yn and Sian I mean. So I don’t know how to fill out the rest. I just don’t feel like you guys. You guys are all adults, do you know what I mean?” he looks up at them. His older brothers. “I don’t feel like one, you’d think I would by now. My son is five. I know I’m his dad but why do I feel like his older brother sometimes. Most of the time. Yn is still my girlfriend, I don’t have a stable job, I’m not in school or anything. I just feel like I’m not doing anything right and I’m still not apparently. I just don’t feel like I’ve grown up. I know I don’t compare to any of you, you all are adults, responsible adults, with jobs, and you know what to do all the time. I don’t know what I’m doing.

And then…

I bump into my friends, my old ones. And they’re exactly the same as when I left. I mean they have jobs and all, but they make me feel like it’s okay that I’m not at the point I wanted to be.” 

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

young one

♛ part seventeen: i don’t know ♛

pairings: photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader

a/n: sorry this took a while! with the start of the new year i wanted to do a lot better with some things in my life but i also had a lot to do! plus my sister and i got caught up in a drama .... also sorry for the lack of smau... i feel like it doesn’t fit with the situation rn haha

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[wastelandcth]

Father’s Day - cth

summary: calum celebrates another father’s day with his crazy family.

author’s notes: hello! welcome back to the doves! it’s been so much fun to be able to write them again, i missed them so much. 

warnings: the doves are too cute for their own good. 

masterlist || request || more doves

“Happy papa day!” Eloise squealed as she ran over to Calum, “I can’t believe you’re so old now, papa!”

“It’s not his birthday, Elly,” Charlie frowned, walking in after his four-year-old sister, “It’s just a day where we celebrate him!”

“Oh,” Eloise mumbled, looking up at her dad confused, “So you don’t have two birthdays?”

Calum chuckled, shaking his head and crouching down to pull his excited four-year-old into his arms. Eloise always loved special days like Mother’s Day, Valentine’s day, and as of recent, Father’s day. Ever since Dovey had mentioned what he’d wanted to do that day in front of the kids, Eloise hasn’t stopped asking about Calum’s special day and what he wanted to do. Every day at breakfast she’d ask Calum how many days were left until it was time to celebrate and every night when Calum was tucking her in she’d tell him about how excited she was for him. Calum, who would love every day trying to make sure his daughter always was as happy and excited for life as she’d been that day, couldn’t have asked for a better present than a whole day with his family.

“No, El,” Calum chuckled and shook his head, standing up and bouncing Eloise on his hip, “But it does mean that I get to chose what we do today!”

“What did you decide on, bub?” Dovey asked and smiled as she handed Charlie his water bottle, “Or is it a surprise like last year?” she smirked.

Calum had always gotten to pick what the family did on Father’s Day. His first holiday as a dad was spent pushing a seven-month-old in a stroller around the beach, not the brightest idea, but the sun was warm and baby Charlie had been giggly. The year before had been spent across the ocean and far from home, the Hood family hiding away in the privacy of a rental home in Sydney. Every year, Calum got to pick what he wanted to do with his family and this year had been no different. All he wanted to do was see the smile on his kids’ faces and the look of adoration on his wife’s face. The only reason he’d told Dovey his idea this time around was because they would need to pack for the kids and make sure they both had time off of work to do so.

“I was thinking we could go to the lake?” Calum grinned, looking as the two kids gasped and cheered.

They’d been to the lake plenty of times, enjoying the summer breeze and sun while the water outside the usual place they rented shone. It was the place where Calum had caught his first fish with Charlie, both of them too squeamish to do much about it besides throw it back into the water. He’d taken Dovey and Duke there years before their two kids had arrived, the snowy mountaintops hiding them away from the peering eyes of the world. And they’d even gone to the lake for Eloise’s second birthday, the giggling toddler splashing the day away by the shore as their friends and family enjoyed a barbecue in the April sunshine. Calum couldn’t think of a better place to spend a few days away, and maybe Father’s day was the perfect excuse to ditch town and hide away in their special cabin.

Dovey, who was the most amazing wife and Calum still wondered how he’d gotten so lucky, had already packed and stored their weekend bags away in the car. Her dramatic gasp and giggled that joined the children made Calum’s heart race and even if this day was all about him, he had her to thank for it. Without Dovey, he would’ve never become a father and would’ve never had two kids currently attached to his hip as he packed some snacks for their ride up to the lake. She’d changed his life the second she’d told him she was pregnant and ever since that moment, Calum Hood had never been happier to be alive. He was a father and that’s all that ever really mattered, sure he still loved the band and going out to create music, but being able to come home and see his kids was so much better. He was there for the food days where they’d both talks his ear off about school or something exciting they did with their mom and he was there for the bad days when stuffy noses and clogged ears meant he’d have one of them on his chest snoring the day away. He was a father and nothing would ever top that for him.

“Papa?” Charlie asked as he looked out at the passing scenery, “Is Duke my older brother?”

“What makes you say that, bud?” Calum asked with a chuckle, his eyes moving up to the rearview mirror to look at his son.

“Well mama always calls him your baby and he was here before me and Elly,” Charlie shrugged, patting the old dog’s head who was happily snoring away on his lap, “I think it’d be cool if he was my brother.”

“Well, then I guess he is, in a way, your brother.”

“Papa?”

“Yes, Eloise?”

“Is he my brother too?”

The questions continued for much of the journey up to the lake, each kid taking a turn to ask Calum a question and giggle at his response. That was one part of parenthood that Calum hadn’t realized would be his favorite. He rarely used to love answering questions, years of interviews with the same five questions being thrown at them making him numb, but his kids could ask him the same question all day long and he’d happily answer it to hear their giggles or the hum they gave as they thought it over. But as the sunshine high in the sky and the fresh air floated in through the open sunroof, the two kids quieted down until all they let out were quiet snores.

It wasn’t until the car pulled into the driveway of the familiar cabin that Calum had finally felt at ease. The past couple of months had been hectic and Calum was glad to finally let loose and not have to worry about anything but spending time with his family. He carried the two sleeping kids into the living room, laying them both down before helping Dovey with the bags from the car. The two of them unpacked and made a quick lunch for everyone while the kids napped and it wasn’t until the morning sun was high in the sky that they heard the snores fade and be replaced by giggles.

“Papa, can we color your hair?” Eloise asked excitedly, the toothy grin she gave Calum a weakness she knew and used often.

“What color are we thinking this time around, sweets?” Calum asked and chuckled as he helped the little one change into her favorite orange swimsuit, “Maybe pink again?”

“No! Charlie and I want green!”

“And yellow, papa!” Charlie nodded, his legs swinging off the side of the bed as Dovey slathered him with sunscreen, “And red like Uncle Ash!”

“Maybe once we get back home we can do that, yeah?” Calum chuckled and nodded, “It’ll look so cool!”

The rest of the day was spent with one another, with a lot of laughs and giggles from everyone. It was spent lounging by the lake and taking in the sun, making piles of sand into a tiny city while Eloise and Charlie fought over where the dog store would be. It was having a barbecue on the porch and drinking sweet lemonade while Calum told the kids the latest story in Luke’s new puppy adventures. If Calum could’ve imagined the perfect Father’s day, it would’ve been that day. All he needed was his wife, his two kids, Duke who’d been snoring inside all day, and the beautiful view of the lake from outside the living room. He’d been lounging on the couch, listening to Dovey retell the story of how she and Calum had met all those years ago to the two kids who’d hung on her every word.

“But now your papa and I have to clean up that bathroom that you all made a mess in,” Dovey teased, her eyes meeting Calum’s who only smirked, “Why don’t you two watch a movie with Duke, yeah?”

“Happy Father’s Day, Dove.” Dovey whispered and smiled, her lips pressing up against Calum’s as her arms pulled him in between her spread legs, “You’re an amazing daddy,” she teased.

“Yeah?” Calum chuckled and kissed her shoulder, her skin warm against his wandering lips, “Glad you think so, baby girl.”

“Mhm, of course, I do,” Dovey breathed out, her head tilting back as Calum’s lips traveled from her shoulder to her neck, “Maybe we should make you a father again.”

Calum chuckled softly and pulled Dovey’s hips closer to his, both of them groaning at the feeling of the other against them, “We both know that’s not happening anytime soon lovebug.”

“Ugh, yeah no, the thought of pushing another child out of me has me wanting to push you out of this bathroom,” Dovey teased and giggled as she squeezed Calum’s hips with her thighs.

“And on my special day?” Calum teased, smirking as his hands found their way up to the soft flesh on Dovey’s chest, giving them both a soft squeeze.

“Cal-“ Dovey whimpered out, groaning as she heard the inevitable sound of Eloise opening doors to look for them both, “She’s your kid,” she huffed and shook her head.

“Fuck, you stay right there and don’t move. I’ll be back soon.”

Soon, Dovey learned was pretty much never. 

As she walked out of the bathroom, with the pit in her stomach still burning and her thighs squeezing together to find relief, she hasn’t expected to find Calum and their two kids snoring on the couch. The sun and the dip in the cool lake had tired them out and Dovey couldn’t help but snap a picture of her family. They were crazy and sometimes things got chaotic, tears were shed and giggles were echoed throughout a home they’d built. It was chaos and love and everything Dovey could ever ask for. She pulled a blanket over the three snoring bodies, each one mimicking the other’s squishy cheeks and drooling mouth before pressing a kiss to Calum’s forehead.

“Happy Father’s day, Thomas.”

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