#i woke up this morning with my face covered in blueberry sauce

[o-winterqueen-o]

My baby cousin asked for lemon blueberry cheesecake for his birthday. As the favorite cool older cousin I had to oblige 🫐🍋💖

[sansang1015]

Chan Imagine: A day with his daughter

A/N: I wrote this last night. I hope you enjoy this. Also I decided to name the girl Danica which mean Morning Star and it Slavic origin.

——

Chan had plan a day with his daughter at the beach while you relax at home for the entire day. You agree as you trust Chan to keep her safe from the huge wave and knows he can't go deep waters with her. Chan had prepared Danica bag the night before along with his bag. He pack extra diapers and clothes for her to change. He pack two towels and sunblock for him and her. He cut some fruit last night for her *cough* and him *cough*. He even prepare enough water for her to drink. He even prepare sandwiches for them. He was prepared for his day out with his little Peach as he likes to call her sometimes. Why Peach? His baby skin tone when was born looks liked a peach so he called her his little peach also because she inherited his butt.

That morning, Chan woke up with his daughter cries for diaper change. You were going to do it but he told you to go back to sleep as he kiss your forehead. You did as told and went to sleep. He walks to Danica room and saw her sitting up in her crib crying. She stop when she saw her father enters her room. She made the grabbing motion with her tiny hands. "Morning my little peach" Chan said as he pick her up to shower her and change her that way he can take her to the beach.

After a bit of breakfast and that nice refreshing shower. Chan had his daughter in a carrier close to his chest as he load his car. After he loads the car, he buckle her in her car seat as he hands her her cute koala stuff toy. He close the door and went to the driver seat and start the car.

He played music the entire time and it was his playlist for her. He was singing the entire time because he notice that she won't cry if she hear his voice in the car making the car ride peaceful.

He arrived at the beach and once again had his daughter in a carrier. As he took the stuff to a place. He set the unbrella with the blankets and a few rocks just to make sure it doesn't blow the blanket away. He also set a chair for him and her. He smiles as he set the bag down and then got Danica out of her carrier. She looks around as Chan grabs the sunblock. He put a bit on his hand and rubs it gently on her face and her hands as well feet. He kiss them as she giggles. Music to Chan ears. He put her a cute little hat for her outfit. He proceed to take picture of her to send them to you later. He put on his sunblock and he wore a baseball hat to block the sun from his face. He also put some floaty on her.

He took her to the water and little by little let her touch the water. She laugh when Chan pull her way and the motion was repeated.

It was time for snack and Chan brought her back to the blanket and clean her hands and his with some wipes. He throws those wipe on a plastic bag he brought for later to throw away. Must keep the beach clean!

He feed her some apple sauce and gave her water. After the apple sauce he let her chew on some watermelon that last night he took the seed out. He also gave her blueberry. He joins her by eating his fruits. He took picture of her eating and her face in a mess. "Cute" he mumbles as he saved the picture.

Chan and her seat near the water but not far for her to drown. Like where the sand and the water meet. He watch her splash on the water as she giggles and Chan cover her feet with bit of Sand and the water wash them away.

It was nap time and Chan once again clean her and lay her down on the blanket as he sat in a chair looking at the ocean view. He drank his water. On time to time he looks down at Danica. His phone vibrated and he saw you calling.

"Hello" He answer with a whisper but enough for you to hear. "How it going?" you ask him. "Great, we are having fun. How your relaxation going?" he ask you. "It fine but I miss her! Please come back" Chan chuckle. "She will be back in a few after we eat ice cream" You gasp as Chan plan on having his daughter hyper for you. "CHRISTOPHER BANG! Don't give her sugar!!" Chan silently laugh. "Just joking, I was going to buy her yogurt" You sigh in the other line. "See you in a bit" Chan said to you. "Okay, love you" You said. "Love you too" Chan hang up and took one more picture of Danica before he began to pack.

He change her outfit as she sleep. "She really a heavy sleeper" Chan chuckles as he finish changing her. He place her on the carrier and began to fold the blanket and close the umbrella. He pick the bag and the other stuff. On his way to the car, he throw the trash away in a near by bin.

He place the stuff on the trunk and then buckle Danica in her car seat and then cover her in a blanket. Chan place a towel on his seat and drove.

He arrived home with an awake Danica, two ice cream and a banana yogurt. When he enters, you quickly took Danica in your arms "(Appa/Mama)" she said as you kiss her cheek. "I miss you" you said to her. "I feel the love her" Chan jokes and you roll your eyes as you kiss his cheek. "Let get you clean" you said as you walk to the bathroom with Danica. Chan smile as he place yours and his ice cream in the freezer, and Danica yogurt on the fridge. He really had fun with his little star. He hope that she can remember all the future activities they will have.

[grilledcheem]

Hello!!! I saw you had writing requests open! I was wondering if you could write something about Richie bringing Eddie breakfast in bed because Eds is still recovering from getting stabbed by Pennywise? Thank you!!!

finished! you can read it here or on ao3

more of my writing | my ko-fi

Eddie winces as he wakes up, his chest aching underneath the bandages that he still has to wear. A flash of fear races through his mind as he remembers just why he has to wear these bandages: Pennywise, that damn clown, and the claw that ripped into his chest, tearing apart his body as he leaned over Richie. His breathing starts getting faster and he can feel the effect it has on his wound but he can’t seem to control it. He finds himself reaching out for his inhaler only to pull his hand away from his bedside table once he remembers that it’s a placebo. He turns in the bed, body protesting with each movement he makes, to ask Richie to help him with his breathing exercises but all that’s next to him is an empty expanse of bedsheets.

Clanging coming from the direction of the kitchen startles him out of his thoughts and puts him at ease. Seeing the empty bed, he had thought that the past few months, and the wonderful things that had happened during them, had been nothing but a dream. Ridiculous, he knows, but he understands that rational thinking isn’t his strong suit before his first cup of coffee. He’s tempted to call out to Richie, ask him what he’s doing but he wants to have these few minutes by himself to collect his thoughts and focus on slowing his breathing down.

A few minutes later, his breathing has slowed and he can see Richie’s shadow getting smaller on the hardwood floor outside their bedroom as he gets closer. Eddie debates pretending to be asleep, if only to get Richie to kiss him “awake”, but he debates for too long and in walks Richie, a covered tray in his hands.

“Morning, spaghetti-head.” Richie’s voice is soft and Eddie feels a sense of warmth wash over him at the sound. “You up for a little breakfast?”

“Since when do you get up this early?” Eddie gestures toward the bedside table where their alarm clock sits, displaying the time. “7am is a bit early for a night owl like you.”

Richie shrugs and comes to stand by the side of the bed, gently lowering the tray to sit over Eddie’s legs. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

Chuckling, Eddie grabs one of Richie’s hands as it lets go of the tray and brings it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Consider me surprised.”

The gentle look that Richie gives him reminds him of when he first woke up in the hospital after they dragged him out of Neibolt. He had known, then, how Richie felt toward him. No one could see that look in his eyes and say it was anything other than love. He knew then that he needed to divorce Myra, take some time to himself to sort out just what he was feeling. Was he merely grateful for saving his life? Or was it perhaps something more? Over time, spent both with and apart from Richie, he grew to learn that his feelings, ones that had always been there, hidden beneath his thin veneer of strength and harsh words, were ones of love. Since then, the two had been together, sharing Richie’s Los Angeles home, learning the routines and habits of each other, all the little things that had missed over the last 27 years.

Richie pulls him out of his thoughts, his large and warm hands coming up to cradle Eddie’s face. “I can practically see steam coming out of your ears, Eds; quit thinking and eat.”

Eddie nods, smiling as best he can. The stab wound from Bowers didn’t heal right, not that he was expecting it to since he hadn’t sought medical attention immediately, making it nearly impossible for the left side of his mouth to pull back into a smile. From the way Richie’s eyes light up at the lopsided grin, Eddie thinks that he doesn’t really mind it.

“Bone app the teeth,” Richie announces in a terrible French accent as he uncovers the tray, revealing a plate of poached eggs with Hollandaise sauce. Beside the plate of eggs sits a bowl of mixed fruit; mango, strawberries, blueberries, and honeydew. A steaming cup of coffee, the color more like buckskin than coffee, sits at the top right corner. In the top left corner is a napkin, a note hastily scrawled onto it.

My little spaghetti boy,

I got up at the ass-crack of dawn to make you these eggs so you better enjoy them.

xoxo Trashmouth

p.s. you drool when you sleep and it’s cute cute cute!

Eddie gasps in fake horror. “I do not drool when I sleep!” He knows he does but he loves how Richie teases him about it. Most importantly, however, he loves Richie, even if he does snore.

[captain-kingliamsqueen]

“PRESSURE! Pushing Down On Me!” - Then There Were Three Part 6 -  Liam x MC

Feedback is always welcome so don’t hesitate to leave me a little msg :P

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Summary: THE BABIES COMING!

Word Count: 4,442

Masterlist <—–

Tagged : @starstruckzonkoperatorbat  @drakelover78  @queencatherynerhys @devineinterventions2 @jayjay879  @kawairinrin  @hopefulmoonobject @flyawayboo  @gardeningourmet  @blackcatkita  @syltti78  @theroyalweisme  @hhiggs  @mfackenthal  @bruteforcebears @pens-girl-87  @barbaravalentino @umccall71 @darley1101 @crookedslimecreatorpasta  @jamjar84 @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid @speedyoperarascalparty @katurrade @scarlettedragon @zeniamiii @annekebbphotography @liam-rhys @xxrainbowprincessxx @perfectprofessorherokid @mynameiskaylabella @marywrites-things​ @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @innerpostmentality @alepowell @missevabean @romanticatheart-posts @smalltalk88 @sarwin85 @gibbles82

 ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! OR UNTAGGED!

I SINCERELLY APPOLOGISE IF I MISSED ANYONE, IM TRYING TO KEEP TRACK OF WHO WANTS TAGGED AND STUFF, IM GONNA PUT A POST OUT TO SEE WHO WANTS TO BE PERMANENTLY TAGGED!

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance! 

for the record, I have never been pregnant, I have never given birth, so I’m just trying to go by what I have read online and the sort of thing that happened to my sister when she was pregnant, apologies if I got anything wrong <3 

It was three am when Liam was jolted awake from a noise coming from the baby’s nursery. With half-awake eyes he looked to the space beside him to see…nothing…no Riley. He climbed from the bed, making his way towards the nursery. as he reached the room, he seen her, trying to bend down and pick up the lamp that had fallen from the small table beside the rocking chair. As he looked around the room he seen drawers open, clothes pulled out on top of it, nappies that were boxed and waiting to be put on the shelf of the changing unit, were all over the top of the changing table,

“what are you doing?” he mumbled still half asleep, tying not go get blinded by the light from the room. He walked over and gently placed his hand on her arm as she went to bend down again but couldn’t quiet reach it. “ill get it” he lifted the lamp, placing it in its rightful place on the side table.

“why are you up sweetheart?” he asked as he stood in front of her, his hand gently grazing her cheek

“I have to make sure everything’s perfect.” She panicked as she looked around the room “I have to fix her clothes…I have to-”

“hey, it’s alright, we can do it in the morning, everything will be perfect I promise”

“it can’t wait Liam, I have to fix it” she mumbled as she made her way over to the chest of drawers and started folding the baby’s clothes. Liam quickly followed, placing his hand gently on Riley's back.

“Sweetheart, will you please come to bed?”

“but-”

“but, nothing, I know your just trying to get everything perfect, I promise, we can do it tomorrow, you and I will fix it in the morning, will you please come back to bed?” he whispered softly

“promise?”

“I promise” a soft smile found itself on Liam's face, as he gently took the baby grow from Riley's hand and placed it on top of the dresser.

“okay” she nodded as he walked her back to bed, with his left hand on her back and her right hand in his.

“did I wake you?” a just barely audible whisper left her mouth

“No, you didn’t wake me, sweetheart” Liam knew if he told Riley she had woke him up, she would beat herself up about it.

“why are you lying?” she frowned “just tell me I can handle it”

“sweetie, it wasn’t you”

“yes, it was, I can read you like a book, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you”

“It’s okay, sweetie” he placed a kiss on her head then helped her into bed before getting back into bed himself. The whole room was silent, so Liam assumed Riley had fallen asleep, it was a short fifteen minutes later that he heard her whisper

“Liam,” she wriggled over to cuddle him

“yeah sweetie?” his arms instinctively wrapped around her.

“I can’t sleep, I’m uncomfortable”

“is she awake?”

“yeah, and she’s on the move”

“let me see what I can do” Liam whispered as he pulled the duvet back a little, he moved down on the bed so that he could get to Riley's stomach. He gently pressed his lips to her skin then whispered

“hey princess, its daddy, I know you want to play, but your mother really needs to rest before you get here, so I’m gonna need you to calm down a little bit, I promise, as soon as you make an appearance, we can play all the games you want, but right now your mother needs some sleep.” Liam looked up to Riley's to see she was falling asleep, he smirked to himself, he carefully moved back to where he was lying. “goodnight, my love” he whispered before placing a kiss on Riley's head.

“goodnight” she whispered back.

The next morning, Riley awoke with an abundance of energy.  She awoke to Liam cuddling into her back. she thought back to the time when they couldn’t sleep in the same room, when they were barely able to spend more than fifteen minutes together…now, here they were, lying, cuddled up in bed, ready to bring their first baby into the world. With a smile on her face, she gently moved Liam's hand careful not to wake him, she climbed form the bed and headed for the bathroom, then the kitchen. she tried to be as quiet as she possibly could, as to not wake Liam, plenty of times, over the past nine months she had him up in the middle of the night, be it getting food for her, times when she couldn’t sleep…wriggling around in the bed, trying to get comfortable. She wanted to let him sleep for as long as possible, his only meeting for the day wasn’t until three pm so he didn’t need to be up anytime soon. she started pulling pans and ingredients from the cupboards. She was going to wake him to his favourite breakfast, blueberry pancakes. Every chance he got, he would have blueberry pancakes. He had once told her that his mother used to make them for him before she passed, she made sure the staff had the recipe, so that when she was out of the country, he could still have them. After her passing, Liam would have them as often as he could, reminding him of his mother’s cooking. By the time Riley and Liam were married, she had gotten her hands on the recipe. it was about fifteen minutes later that Riley had two plates stacked with fluffy blueberry pancakes, covered with a warm blueberry sauce. Riley placed the two plates on a tray along with two cups of hot tea, then carried it carefully to the bedroom. She placed the tray on Liam's bedside table, then gently leaned down, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Liam, honey, wake up” Riley whispered, Liam mumbled then shuffled around a little.

“I know you can hear me, Liam” she smirked as she watched him flicker his eyes open.

“Mmmm morning, sweetie” he smirked as he stretched, before placing his hand gently on the back of her neck and leaning up to press his lips to hers.

“morning, I have something for you”

“you do?”

“Mhmmm, it’s on your bedside table” she smirked as he turned to look, and a grin found itself on his face.

“is that what I think it is?”

“Mhmmm, only the best for my very patient husband”

“I love you. Do you know that?” Liam pushed himself up to sit with his back against the headrest

“of course, I love you too”

Riley carefully picked the tray up and placed it on Liam's lap before moving round to her side and climbing back into bed, she took her plate from the tray and placed it on her knee then they quickly got stuck in.

“how is my beautiful little girl treating you today?”

“she’s been great, she’s been pretty calm this morning”

“good, I can’t believe she’s going to be here anytime in the next few weeks, it’s crazy.”

“I know right, I’m so excited to meet her!”

“me too, I can’t wait to finally have her in our arms”

“I’m a little scared though” Riley whispered, Liam placed his fork onto the plate, as he looked over at Riley a little worried.

“talk to me, what’s up?” he asked as he took her hand in his.

“I’m just…I’m scared about the whole pushing a human being out of me…it can be dangerous…I mean…what if I get too tired to push and something happens to the baby…or to me”

“hey, I’m going to be with you, the whole time, there are going to be a gazillion doctors there just to keep you safe”

“a gazillion…really?” she chuckled at his over exaggeration

“I would have every doctor in the world in that room to make sure you and our daughter will be safe” he reassured Riley with a squeeze of her hand.

“and that’s why I love you so damn much” she smirked

“really?” he replied as he carried on eating “I thought it was my charming smile”

“that too” she leaned over and placed her lips on his.

After the two finished their food, they got up, showered and dressed. They had fixed everything in the nursery that needed put away, Riley stopped Liam before he could leave the room.

“I need your help with something”

“of course, what’s up?” he asked as he made his way over to her, Riley lifted a box from atop the chest of drawers.

“the baby wrap came yesterday…we need to make sure we can put it on right.” Liam smirked and nodded his head “okay”. Riley opened the box, passing Liam the instructions of how to put it on, she knew he would want to examine it word for word, whereas Riley would try it herself first. After failing on multiple attempts, she finally gave in and looked at the directions on the paper, “I give up…what does it say?” she groaned

“you gotta fold it in half length ways” Liam chuckled as he watched his wife trying to wrap herself up.

“okay…what next?”

“wrap it around your stomach, at the back, cross the two sides over and pull them over your shoulders”

“like this?”

“yes, just like that…you gotta tuck it under the part you wrapped around your stomach, so just pull both parts underneath, crossing them over as you do it, once you’ve done that, pull them around you and tie the two ends together, if you have extra fabric pull around to the front and tie it instead.”

Liam helped Riley tie the fabric behind her, due to her bump being so big she wouldn’t even contemplate tying it in the front.

“how does it feel?”

“it feels okay, I mean…obviously we won’t be able to tell until she’s here, and we can put her in it, but I think it feels okay, how do I look?” she chuckled “have ever seen an uncooked roll of beef?”

“an uncooked roll of beef? no…why do you ask”

“well they come…with string wrapped around it…that’s what I look like right now” she laughed as she removed the wrap then held it out to Liam “your turn” she smirked Liam chuckled as he took the wrap from her hands and started wrapping it around him. Riley sat herself down in the rocking chair as she watched Liam attempt to wrap himself up.

Just a couple of weeks later, Riley was hitting her forty-week mark…and she was well and truly done with this pregnancy. Riley had been trying a few different ways of bringing on labour, spicy food…walking…sex…they had tried it all.

“why won’t your daughter get out of me?” she groaned as she met Liam in the kitchen where he was making the two of them some tea.

“maybe…maybe you could just pull her out…just get your hand right up there and pull her out”

“I don’t think it works like that sweetheart” Liam chuckled

“I’m so done with this”

“I know sweetie, just a little while longer I promise” he encouraged her as he placed the mugs on the table. “she’ll be here soon” he gently placed his hand on her stomach as he placed a gently kiss on her head

“why don’t we go for a walk? we can take a walk through the flower garden…maybe…the hedge maze…what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea”

after the two finished their tea, they pulled their shoes and coats on with their winter essentials, then they headed out to the flower garden hand in hand.

“it’s freezing!”

“we can go back inside if you want?” Liam asked

“no, it’s, okay, we’ll be fine”

“just be careful, there might be black ice under the snow”

“you just better be ready to catch me” Riley chuckled

“I’ll be ready”

“she could still be in there for another three weeks” Riley mumbled “she could be here tomorrow…can you believe it? this time tomorrow we could be sitting with her in our arms”

“I honestly can’t, I think she’ll turn up when we least expect it” Liam smirked as he squeezed her hand

“in the middle of the night if she’s anything like her mom”

“really?”

“Mhmmm 3:24 am”

“I was an early hour arrival too…4:21 am”

“we’ll aren’t we screwed then” Riley chuckled “she’s definitely showing up in the middle of the night now, ”

“we better try and get as much rest as we can then” Liam chuckled

The next day came and went, no baby in sight, Riley was uncomfortable and tired, her back ached, her breasts ached, her ankles as well. It was late in the afternoon, Liam was out at his only meeting for the day, he was due back anytime, Riley had spent the last few hours, falling in and out of sleep on the sofa. Riley had just woken up enough to get up and move. Just as she went to get up, she felt a pressure in her back.

“Ahhh shi-” she groaned as she fell back onto the sofa, taken by surprise by the pressure…sure she’d had Braxton hicks, but this felt different she quickly looked at the time so that she could keep track of the contractions.

Just a couple of seconds later the apartment door opened as Liam walked in, shutting it behind him. “hey” he smiled as he leaned over the back of the sofa and placed a kiss on her lips as she looked round at him.

“is everything okay?” Liam asked instantly seeing the look in her face.

“I…- I just had a contraction”

“what!?” he grinned as he quickly moved around to kneel in front of where she sat. “what should we do, should we go down to the physician?”

“no, we need to time them, I don’t want to end up sitting down there all day”

“alright, can I do anything, can I get anything for you?”

“I was about to get myself some water”

“alright, stay here, I’ll get you a glass of water”

It was about five minutes later, Liam had taken a seat beside Riley, as they discussed how his meeting went.

“I agreed to th-” Liam stopped what he was saying when Riley gripped his hand, leaning her forehead against his chest. He gently ran his free hand up and down her back.

“you’re so strong” he whispered before placing a kiss on her head

“how long?” Riley mumbled without lifting her head.

“about sixty-five seconds long, seven minutes since your first one”

“there’s no point in going down until they’re closer together, they could be like this for hours still”

“alright, well, I’m going to call down to the physician, let him know what’s going on, alright?”

With a nod of her head. Liam quickly lifted the phone from beside him, and dialled down to the

Physician’s office.

“Hi, Henry, Riley's having contractions”

“okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes” after bidding the doctor goodbye Liam hung up the phone, Riley looked up at him “what did he say?”

“He’s going to come up to check on you.”

Just a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Liam called for the doctor to come in, after closing the door behind him, the doctor made his way over to Riley.

“how far apart are they?” he asked as he took a seat beside her.

“seven minutes apart”

“how long are they lasting?”

“the last one was about sixty-five seconds” Riley informed him as she looked over at Liam, who kept looking down at his watch

“alright, I’m just going to check how dilated you are, okay?”

“Mhmmm” Riley nodded as she positioned herself on the sofa so that the doctor could check how far she was dilated

“alright, your about five cm dilated, so of course, you know you need to be ten cm before you can start pushing, what I’m going to need you to do, is keep timing them, once they get to around three minutes apart, we’ll get you down to the medical room, I’m sure you don’t want to sit down their bored for too long so, you could stay at five cm for a little while or they could progress really quickly so,  for as long as they are this far apart and your only five cm, just take it easy, take deep breathes, do something calming, read a book or sometimes taking a bath can help because the water takes the pressure away a little bit, or going for a walk might help, when a contraction hits, make sure your taking deep breathes, try not to break any of the kings bones” the doctor joked causing Riley and Liam to laugh, he looked down at his watch then moved over to sit beside Riley, taking her hand in his. Riley closed her eyes as she felt the next contraction

“deep breaths, sweetie” he reassured her “you’re doing great”

“just nice and calm, no stress alright, I will be just downstairs, making sure everything is prepared for you and the baby, if you need anything, and I mean anything, just call down and I’ll be straight up, I’ll come back up in a few hours and check on you and check how far your dilated”

“okay, thank you” Riley nodded as the doctor stood to his feet. Liam walked him to the door, closing it behind him after bidding him goodbye. He quickly moved back to Riley's side, taken her hand in his.

“can you help me up?”

“of course,” Liam stood to his feet, taking Riley's hands in his, he helped her to her feet. “alright, talk to me, tell me what you what you want to do, I can go run you a bath, we can go for a walk”

“could we go for a walk? not outside though…it’s too cold…my ass’ll freeze out there” Liam chuckled at his wife.

“alright, do you wanna go change?” he asked when he noticed she was wearing sweatpants, knowing that she would normally only wear them around the apartment and that’s it.

“pfft nope-” Riley quickly grabbed Liam's hand as her next contraction hit.

“shit…this is not fun” she groaned as she squeezed at Liam's hand “I’m so sorry if I’m hurting you”

“it’s okay, do what you need to sweetie, its fine, I don’t mind” he reassured her. Once her contraction passed, Liam helped her put her shoes on then the two headed out.

Just as the two were leaving the apartment, Drake was walking by.

“hey guys” he groaned

“Drake, hi” Riley smiled

“hey man!” Liam greeted him with a grin.

Drake looked Riley's outfit up and down with confusion, knowing she would never usually leave their apartment in sweats, she could spend all day in them in the apartment but when It came to leaving, she always made sure she was dressed appropriately. “where are you guys off too?”

“we’re just going for a walk around the palace”

“I’m having contractions, so the doctor said going for a walk might help”

“the babies coming?!?” he chirped

“yeah” Riley replied with a grin

“do you guys want me to take bash? I can keep him in my room for a few days?”

“really? That would be amazing Drake! I mean you don’t need to take him right now, it might be a little while still before we have to think about going down to the doctor, but that would be a huge help, thank you so much” Riley thanked him, before pulling him into a hug which he returned. Just as Riley went to step back her next contraction hit. She quickly grabbed the closes hand to her, which was drakes. Drake tensed his hand as she squeezed it, Liam stood smirking knowing how strong Riley's grip was.

“shit Riley, your stronger than you look!” Drake groaned as she squeezed it. once Riley let out, Drake shook his hand, trying to get the feeling back, Riley looked at him apologetically. “I’m so sorry drake”

“it’s alright…I’m sure the feeling will return to it soon, I just feel bad for Liam…I mean they’re only gonna get stronger right? I mean, are his hands actually going to work after this?” he stated causing Liam to laugh. Riley just stood there looking at him. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t make jokes, you’re in a lot of pain” he apologised

“I take my apology back…you deserved it” Riley huffed

“alright, come on, why don’t we keep walking before Drake literally loses a limb” Liam suggested as he took Riley's hand

“yeah…good idea” she smirked at Drake

“yeah…I second that” Drake nodded

After bidding him goodbye Liam and Riley continued their journey. It was about an hour later that the two returned to the apartment.

“I need to lie down” Riley mumbled as she headed for their bedroom, quickly being followed by Liam. Riley sat herself down on the bed, Liam kneeling at her feet to help her get her shoes off.

“could you get my nightdress, the blue on, its right at the top of the drawer, I’m too warm in these sweats”

“of course,” Liam pulled her second shoe off then headed for the closet, he quickly returned with the nightdress which he handed to Riley, he helped her to her feet.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, ill change whilst I’m in there” she mumbled tiredly as she made her way to the bathroom. She changed and done what she had to do then headed back into the bedroom, where she climbed onto the bed, she pulled the duvet over, bundling it up and wrapping herself around it. she groaned as another contraction hit, she gripped the duvet in her hands as she breathed deeply.

“could you open the window?” she asked Liam, who done as asked, he then joined Riley on the bed, he lay facing her on his side, running his hand up and down her back gently.

“you’re doing great sweetheart” he whispered as Riley leaned her forehead on his chest. “I love you so much” he whispered

“I’m scared Liam” Riley sniffled

“it’s okay, it’s okay to be scared sweetie, you can do this, I know you can do this…you know you can do this. You are so strong Riley”

“I love you so much Liam”

“I love you too…so much!!” he whispered “you should really try and get some sleep” he gently tucked her hair behind her ear.

“there is no way I’m sleeping through this” she sighed “maybe a massage would help” she smirked at him causing him to chuckle

“now that I can do” Liam moved down to the bottom of the bed, and lifted Riley's feet onto his lap, after putting some moisturiser on his hands he began massaging her skin.

“now that’s a massage” she smiled

“maybe I should have you feed me grapes too” she asked, Liam let out a laugh.

“I will get you grapes, if you so wish my queen”

“ha-ha no its okay”

“can you believe it, Liam?”

“what?”

“that she’s gonna be in our arms…finally”

“it’s exciting” Liam smirked

“it is isn’t it, I mean, I know it hurts…a lot…but if I have to go through this for our little girl to come into world…I would do it ten times over”

“and I would be with you…the whole way”

For the past hour Riley had been drifting in and out of sleep, she had not long woken up.

“hey” Liam whispered.

“I need to get up…I can’t just lie here, dozing in and out of sleep, it’s making me feel worse.”

Liam helped Riley from the bed and into the living room.

“maybe we should try some of the positions, Julie, the birthing teacher showed us”

“o-okay” she nodded.

“alright she said try to be upright and leaning forward…sit down” she directed him to the sofa, she lifted a cushion and placed it on the ground in front of where he sat. Liam took Riley's hands as he helped her kneel to the cushion.

“how long?” Riley mumbled as she leaned forward onto his knees, with her head leaning down

“about thirty seconds” Liam answered as he looked at his watch. He leaned his arm over, gently rubbing Riley's lower back.

“Mmmm” she let out a deep breath as her next contraction hit. It was just then that there was a knock at the door.

“who is it?” Liam called

“It’s Drake, Hana and Maxwell” Liam looked at Riley asking her if she wanted visitors, without speaking, she nodded as she took deep breathes

“come in” he called back.

The three came wondering in with grins on their faces.

“is it really happening?” Maxwell asked enthusiastically

“Mhmmm” Riley nodded with a smile.

“stupid question, I know…how are you feeling?” Hana asked as she walked over to the pair

“I’m fine…just…it’s exhausting, the pain…right now its bearable…It just tires you out”

“we brought something that might help with that” Maxwell smirked

“you did?”

“Mhmmm…look” he started emptying the contents of the bag he was carrying.

“you brought board games?” Riley smirked

“what better way to distract you, I even brought monopoly” Maxwell smirked

“monopoly…are you trying to get us divorced before the babies even here? that shits known for starting fights….im excited…lets play” she chuckled causing everyone to laugh.

Hana, Maxwell and Drake all headed over to where Riley and Liam were sitting. Drake moved the side table over to them, they set up the board, picked which counter they wanted, then the game began.

It took an hour and a half before the board was flipped. Riley and Drake were in the midst of an argument over whether it was a rule that if Drake doesn’t ask for the money before the next person rolls the dice when Riley lands on one of his lots, then he forfeits the money. Drake was adamant it wasn’t a rule, he was sure Riley had made it up…that was until Riley searched the internet and trusty google proved him wrong…he flipped the board game as they all laughed.

“I think it’s time we put this game away” Liam chuckled

“Drake…are you emotionally stable to play another- OH…My god!” Riley Riley's eyes practically jumped out of her head.

“what is it?” Liam asked as he gently rubbed her back, the others quickly moved to her side, she looked up at Liam then down to her crotch….

“My water just broke”

If you like it...give it a wee Reblog  <3

[imhereforbvcky]

Pecans vs. Blueberries

Masterlist 

Summary: Sam Wilson challenges his pastry chef girlfriend to a breakfast making competition that devolves into fluff and silliness. Prompt: “Take another step and I swear to you I will knock you on your ass!”

Warnings: none! I don’t even think I swore! Just tooth rotting fluff. Ha! I punned.

Word Count: 2174

Author’s Note: This is for @denialanderror’s 2k Writing Challenge. Congrats, buddy! :) Thanks for some non-angst inspiration.

Morning was always the best time to make use of the kitchens at the Avengers Compound. It was massive and pristine and had every tool you could dream of within its sleek cabinets and pantries.

The only challenge was that the place was perpetually filled with hungry training superheroes, who had no qualms about dipping a fingertip into your freshly whipped buttercream. Who often prematurely snatched up a golden pastry before you’d filled it with custard and topped it with chocolate ganache. Sometimes an entire bowl of apricot glazed fruit would be nibbled down to just a few crushed berries by the time you were ready to top your perfectly set tart.

But mornings were usually safe. If you woke early enough, the only one with any life would be Steve whose 1940s manners hadn’t quite abandoned him. He never swiped without asking, and he only rarely asked.

Your boyfriend, however, was a menace. Sam would slide an arm around your waist and kiss your neck while his fingers reached for the lemon curd. He’d only grin when you balked and kiss you with the tangy flavor still lingering on his tongue. He liked to hover close by, watching you work and experiment, sneaking treats and frowning at the more daring concoctions.

So today while your pear and almond tart baked in the oven, warm vanilla and spicy cinnamon and star anise wafting down the halls, you also started on something the soon-to-rise team would be allowed to eat.

Sam was the first to follow the scent into the kitchen. He slipped behind you, humming at the prospect of a sweet breakfast delight. His hands held gently onto your hips as he stepped closer.

“Smells good,” he murmured. His nose skimmed the column of your neck before he placed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Can I help?”

You leaned into him as you set down the bowl of pale runny batter. “I don’t think you can,” you grinned, swirling the pan to spread the thin substance.

“I’mma pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” you snapped back with a wide smile. “Do you make crepes a lot?”

“No,” he argued. With a raised brow, he stepped away from you and ran a spatula through your crepe batter, giving it a skeptical frown. “I make pancakes because they’re better than some sad floppy crepe.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that!” You pointed your own spatula at him. “I’m going to make you the best crepe you’ve ever had.”

“Still won’t be as good as the pancake I’m ‘bout to make you.” He swatted your ass on his way to the pantry.

“I don’t want your puffed up pan-fried cake from a box!” you laughed as he returned proudly displaying the box of Aunt Jemima pancake mix.

“Oh you will,” he smirked, drawing up a pan beside yours on the stove.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Why because you’ll drown it in maple syrup? It’ll be up to you to call an ambulance when I choke on it.”

“Baby, you won’t even need syrup.” Sam Wilson didn’t second guess his choices; he felt strongly about things and made decisions with finality. That confidence was typically an attractive trait, but today, in this breakfast battle, it only irked you. “Everyone’s going to choose my pancakes over your chewy wilted crepes.”

“Everyone?!” you laughed. “Is this a competition now? Sam I’m a pastry chef, I’m going to destroy you and your boxed pancakes.”

“Yeah and if we were making soufflés I might be worried,” he shrugged as he began slicing bananas.

You only shook your head, watching with suspicion as he reached over you to swipe the vanilla and nutmeg you’d used earlier in your tart. “Tell you what, if I like your pancakes I’ll make you breakfast in bed on Saturday.”

“No-ho-ho way!” he laughed, pouring batter onto his hot skillet and carefully placing banana slices around the center of the pancake. Next he sprinkled coconut onto it and waited. “You can’t be contestant and judge. Everybody votes. A pecan in the jar for me, a blueberry for you. Loser makes breakfast.”

You laughed as he held up one of each, drawing the blueberry from your pile.

“You’re on,” you agreed.

He popped both the pecan and the blueberry into his mouth before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

If you were honest, you were a little nervous. Sam’s first pancake looked damn good as he dropped chopped pecans on top and stole your bowl of whipped cream.

Pancakes were an American classic. Lucky for you, this compound was full of an international crowd. Sam had hedged his bets on one good pancake, but you would make sweet crepes, savory crepes, simple ones, and decadent ones.

Before long you’d taken over the kitchen, sautéing mushrooms and dicing chives. You whipped sweet cream and sliced strawberries. The chocolate sauce was melting beautifully with a little cream and a splash of coffee. You had a bowl of sliced lemons beside the sugar, and warm ham next to several cheese sauces.

In a word, Sam was toast.

He began to realize this with agitated amusement. The more items you set out, the more the kitchen smelled like a cafe, the more his teammates filtered into the kitchen, dipping fingers into your sauces, swiping cherry tomatoes, and bits of fruit. They each made their plates and you found yourself needing to make more.

“You know,” he drawled, leaning over your pan, stirring your next batch of chocolate sauce. “I think I’d prefer a chocolate crepe.”

“You don’t have to tell me, Sammy. I know my crepes are better,” you grinned. “Just put chocolate sauce on it.”

“No, I mean, the crepe. I think your recipe needs some tweaking. I could help,” he grinned over at you, lifting the spoon coated in chocolate sauce.

“No!” you insisted. “No, no, no! That has cream and so much sugar. It’ll throw off the batter.”

“I think it needs it.” If the mischievous glint in his eye didn’t tell you what he was planning, the smirk on his face and the slow deliberate movements he made toward your side of the kitchen sure did.

You quickly snatched up your crepe batter as he lunged forward with the chocolate covered spoon.

“Sam! You know I take a challenge very seriously,” you tried to keep a straight face as you danced on either side of the island. Every time he stepped right, you stepped left. “And you’re trying to cheat!”

“I’m helping!” he argued as he hurled himself on top of the island.

You yelped; backing away with a laugh until your back hit the table. He stalked closer and closer.

He dipped a finger into the chocolate coating the spoon and brought it to his lips. “Mmm this is some good sauce, baby. It’s going in that crepe batter,” he promised.

“Take another step and I swear to you I will knock you on your ass!” you laughed.

“Oh you will?” he chuckled with raised eyebrows.

“Yes! Don’t sabotage my crepes!”

“I don’t need to take another step.”

Before you could even register his actions he held the handle of the spoon firmly in the air and bent the tip of it back with a finger and released. Chocolate sauce splattered forward in an arc of sugary dark mess. It streaked across your face, down your forearms still clutched around the bowl, and an enormous glob ran in the batter from one end of the bowl to the other.

You stood shocked, staring into the bowl with eyes wide. Sam rolled his lips between his teeth to bite back the laughter threatening to bubble forth. He stepped closer, waiting for a reaction, but you gave him none.

“I think uh…” he smiled, brown eyes dancing with laughter. “I think it could use a little more.”

“Sam don’t you dare!” you shouted, swinging the bowl out of reach.

But he was never aiming for the bowl. He swiped the whole spoon across your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky sweet chocolate sauce in its wake.

“Perfect.” The smile on his face was both enchanting and infuriating. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Just…” then your nose, “perfect,” then your chocolate covered cheek before he licked his lips.

You swiped two fingers over the mess on your face and sighed before licking them clean. “It is good chocolate sauce,” you agreed, setting down the bowl of batter.

He only laughed as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You should try the whipped cream though,” you smirked as you smeared a handful from the table down his face. The white foam smeared from nose to chin.

You glimpsed the smile beneath the cream before he dove for your neck. Still trapped in his arms, all you could do was squeal and squirm as he smeared the whipped cream into your neck and shoulder mingled with laughter and kisses and nips at your skin. It was cold and wet, but his lips were warm, and his beard scratched at your skin.

Tony cleared his throat from the end of the table. “Hey there are children present, can you two…” he flicked his wrist to wave back down the hall, but the lopsided grin on his face made you giggle.

“Wha? Me?” Peter asks, swallowing a mouthful of pancake. “I’m-- I’m not a child. I saved all those people on that ferry remember? And I could get my driver’s license now--”

“Do you have your driver’s license?” Tony rolled his head back toward the kid.

“Well no, I take the bus, but--”

“We cooked y’all can clean!” Sam insisted, not even sparing a glance as he kept you caged in his arms and walked you both down the hall toward his room. You could only giggle and shuffle backward in his strong grip, kissing at the sticky bits of breakfast still smeared over his chin and neck.

That weekend you lay in bed, enjoying the cool spring air through the window. It was rare that you slept in, but you relished in it when you did. You wished Sam was here; wished you were curled up under his arm, head resting on his shoulder with your legs tangled together. Your favorite part of lazy mornings was the tight squeeze he gave you when he woke.

But today he’d kissed your forehead and slipped out the door, telling you to rest, he was just going to run with Steve and he’d be back.

And he did come back. With a soft knock at the door to announce his presence, he eased inside holding a tray of food. You grinned from ear to ear as you shifted up in bed, drawing your knees to your chest.

“What’s this?” you asked happily, stretching like a cat.

“Well, there were way more blueberries than pecans on Tuesday morning, so.” He shrugged, setting the tray on the bed.  There was orange juice and a bowl of whipped cream, a dish of whipped butter, strawberries and blackberries, a small pitcher with… maple syrup.

“Sam… is there a pancake under that lid?” you asked with a wary smile.

“Baby, I wouldn’t dare,” he feigned shock.

You eyed him carefully, reaching for the warming lid over the plate.

“It’s a waffle!” he announced as you pulled it away.

“Sam!” you laughed as you fell back onto the pillows. “Is this from a box too?”

“The very same box,” he grinned, taking the fork and cutting himself a bite. “Mmm Aunt Jemima knows the way to my heart.”

You rolled your eyes. “Are you eating my victory breakfast?”

“No,” he smiled more softly this time as he picked up the plate. “This is my breakfast. You’re too picky and too good at what you do. I learned my lesson.”

You picked up the envelope that he’d left under the plate. “Angelo’s?” you asked, excitedly unfolding the gift card.

“I know you like their homemade bread; I’ll take you out for breakfast instead.”

“So let me get this straight,” you laughed. “You lost, and you get your favorite breakfast here, in bed. And I have to go shower and get dressed and go out to get mine?”

Sam dropped his head to the mattress and let out a chuckle.  “When you put it like that…”

“Hey Sam?” you asked, pushing your fingers over his hair and dragging your nails across his skin as you hooked your fingers back down his neck and beneath his ear.

“Yeah,” he mumbled into the blankets.

“Can we make me some of those banana coconut pancakes?”

He turned to you with a smile creeping up the corners of his lips as he shook his head. “You liked ‘em, huh?” he asked, rolling out of bed and holding his hand out for you to take.

You nodded, tugging down your t-shirt. “With extra pecans?”

Anything & Everything Tags: strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. If I can’t tag you for 3 consecutive fics, I’ll remove you from the list. You can always be re-added if you sort it out.

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[jeontaeh]

〚FORTY ONE〛

Jungkook woke up the next morning, all wrapped up in Taehyung's arms, and then shot up from the bed and ran out of his dorm.

"Dude he's your boyfriend now, you can't keep running out of his dorm like this. He's probably upset now." Jimin said, and Jungkook groaned, covering his face with his hands. The two boys walked towards the cafeteria the next Saturday morning to get breakfast.

"I know! I know. But I saw him sleeping and... I don't know. I got scared. What if he comes up to me and says he had fun fucking me- but that's all! Or maybe he was pranking me. Oh my god, Jimin- what if this whole thing was a prank? I'm transferring schools-"

"He literally told everyone he's in love with you. Why are you still scared? You're being irrational now." Jimin said.

"Y'all ever have a normal fucking relationship just to flex on Jungkook?" Eka said, walking along them suddenly. She'd popped out of nowhere.

"Says you, Eka," Jungkook said, and Eka poked her tongue at him. "Last night was magical. We had so much fun and couldn't stop kissing each other." Jungkook murmured, and then sighed out. "But I just... I got deja vu of our past, and... ran out."

"Girl I don't know French," Eka said, and Jimin started laughing, and then looked at Jungkook.

"You need to relax. If Taehyung hurts you again, we will burn his limbs. For now, take it easy. Also, they're giving french toast in breakfast today, so we better hurry."

Jungkook hummed, and then entered the cafeteria. People were giving him looks. Well, obviously. Everyone was talking about the night before. It was on people's Instagram stories and shit. Jungkook ignored all the looks and gawks and walked past the tables, and then found a table, and the three sat down.

They waited for the long line in the food table to simmer down for them to go. Jimin and Eka started bickering about whether blueberries are actually blue or not. Jungkook started laughing loudly, but then suddenly realized how loud his laugh was. Or, wait, his laugh wasn't loud. Everyone else was just silent.

Jungkook looked up and wondered why people in the cafeteria got so quiet and then spotted the doorway. Taehyung walked in, a red headband on his hair, black t-shirt, and grey sweatpants clung to his body. Taehyung had his hands in his pockets, looking a little pissed off.

"There's your lover boy," Jimin said, and Jungkook's hands coiled into fists. Taehyung looked around, ignoring all the stares he received, and then finally laid his eyes on Jungkook and began walking towards him.

Jungkook got up from his seat, walking up to Taehyung before he could reach the table, didn't want Eka and Jimin to hear everything. "Tae-"

"Why'd you leave?" Taehyung asked, eyebrows furrowed. "Don't give me some excuse of you not having clothes or something. You always get up and leave before I wake up," Taehyung said, voice low.

Jungkook stilled, and then gulped. "I- um- I-I don't know. I'm sorry. I got scared, to be honest. I j-just- I g-got anxious and- and just ran out. I'm sorry." Jungkook said softly.

Taehyung hummed, looking at Jungkook. Jungkook looked up at Taehyung. He then realized the people around them were staring at the two. Taehyung turned to look at the people staring. "Do you guys have nothing better to do? Mind your own fucking business," Taehyung snapped loudly, and everyone instantly looked away.

Jungkook blushed lightly at how easily everyone listened to Taehyung, and then Taehyung turned him around and both of them walked to the table with Jimin and Eka. Jungkook sat down, and then put his hand on Taehyung's.

"Don't be mad at me." Jungkook trailed gently.

Taehyung leaned down to look at him. "I don't want you to be scared," Taehyung whispered, eyes softened. "It makes me scared. I want to be good enough for you, Kookie-"

"You- you are," Jungkook said, holding onto Taehyung's shirt.

"Okay. Good. I'll go get your food. What do you want?" Taehyung asked, standing up properly.

"French toast. With- um- chocolate sauce. And strawberries. And bananas." Jungkook said, and Taehyung snickered fondly.

"Okay," Taehyung said, and then turned around and walked away. Jimin and Eka looked at Jungkook. "Damn. Everyone thought V had become a pussy after last night's event. Look at him, asserting his dominance again. He might as well be T-posing."

"Jeon." A loud voice came, and Jungkook looked up and saw Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, and Namjoon walked towards their table. Jin slipped in beside Jimin, smiling at him and Eka. "What the fuck happened last night?"

Damn, that was straightforward. Jungkook inched away from the boys, moving to the side of the table. "There- um-" Jungkook began, and then played with his fingers. "Nothing, I-"

Jungkook looked down, getting scared. He didn't like all this attention. One, because he was always a little introverted and feared to be the center of a group. Two, because he was scared of how Taehyung would react to all this.

"Look- we're fine with you being gay, but-" Yoongi began, and Jimin frowned. "Fuck off Yoongi."

"Shut up, Park. I wasn't talking to you." Yoongi snarked, and Jimin frowned and shut up. Eka patted his back. Yoongi looked at Jungkook, frowning. "You do know how much fun all the other schools are going to make of ours, right? Finding out the infamous 'V' is gay?"

"H-how is that my fault?" Jungkook squeaked.

"I mean, you turned him half-gay, didn't you?" Hoseok asked like it was the most obvious shit to occur. Jin covered his face with his hands in annoyance.

"I d-didn't turn-"

"Being gay isn't a choice." Namjoon stated affirmatively. "But V saying he's into guys? That sounds weird. Is he experimenting?"

"Maybe Jungkook performed voodoo."

"It's fucking weird, no offense. It's like half our football team is gay! I don't want to change in the locker rooms anymore!" Yoongi snapped.

Jungkook suddenly got up from his seat. Jimin and Eka looked at him with concern. "I-I need to-g-go-" Jungkook said in a small voice, and then rushed out of the cafeteria doors, looking frightened. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon sat down on the seats.

"Where did Jungkook go?" A voice came, and the boys (and Eka) looked to the side and saw Taehyung by the table, holding a plateful of french toast, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and chopped strawberries and bananas.

"V, what was all that last night?" Yoongi asked. Taehyung placed the plate down, and then rose his eyebrow in confusion.

"It's called Prom. It is a semi-formal dance or gathering of high school students. This event is typically held near the end of the senior year, and began in the United States of America-"

"Shut up," Hoseok said. "We mean with Jungkook. What was all that? You're into dudes??"

"I don't know, Hoseok. Are you into dudes?" Taehyung asked, leaning in. Hoseok gulped. "N-No..."

"How do you know?" Taehyung asked. Hoseok looked scared by how grim Taehyung looked. "I just do-"

"Do you? Do you Hoseok? Huh? You're gay, Jung Hoseok. This is the truth that everyone's been hiding from you. This is what the government doesn't want you to know-" Taehyung began, and Namjoon groaned and shut him up.

Hoseok looked petrified. Jimin, Eka, and Jin were busy giggling. "Be serious, V. How long have you been... bisexual?" Yoongi asked.

"Since last night." Taehyung said, and Yoongi scoffed. "So, what? You're in love with Jungkook suddenly? You guys used to hate each other!"

"That's how it be."

"V, please just give us a straight answer-"

"How can I when I'm so gay," Taehyung said, and Jimin began wheezing. Eka and Jin laughed loudly, and Taehyung just grinned. The three boys looked really pissed off.

"Shut the fuck up, V. Can you be serious for a minute? This is really confusing to us, bro. You're straight one second, you're gay another- and in love with Jungkook?? I mean, what the fuck?"

"That's just young love for you." Taehyung sighed dramatically, and Jimin practically toppled over giggling.

Namjoon hit his head against the table. Hoseok still looked scared. He asked Jin "Wait... A-am I gay?" And Jin smacked his palm against Hoseok's head. Yoongi looked pissed off, almost a little scary.

"You know, if you're not going to give us a serious answer then we're going to assume this whole shit was a joke. Was it? Was it some sort of elaborate prank or something?" Yoongi muttered.

"Oh fuck, you got it! I told Jungkook I was fucking in love with him in front of 200 people to prank you, Yoongi. You caught me!" Taehyung said, raising his hands in defense.

"This is going to make us look so bad in the championships, god damn it," Yoongi grumbled.

"Yoongi, I could suck 37 dicks at once and I'd still win every single fucking championship there is," Taehyung said, suddenly aggressive. Yoongi looked at him. "So why don't you shut the fuck up and deal with your own fucking problems, huh?"

Yoongi shut up real fast. Taehyung then turned to the cafeteria door and spotted Jungkook by the doorway, nervous. Taehyung walked up to him, leaving his friends be. Jungkook began walking towards him hesitantly.

Taehyung reached closer to him. "Tae-" Jungkook began, but Taehyung circled his arms around Jungkook and pressed their lips together.

Jungkook melted into the kiss, gripping Taehyung's shirt. Taehyung pulled away quickly. "Baby," Taehyung said.

Jungkook blinked his big doe eyes. "T-Taehyungie I'm scared."

"Don't worry, baby. I'll fight them off." Taehyung whispered, and Jungkook giggled brightly. They both heard a cough.

"Can you guys not be all touchy while people are eating?" A boy said, one of those annoying boys that thinks he's better than everyone. "Keep the gay shit for behind the doors, please. It's kind of disgusting-"

Taehyung left Jungkook and walked up to him. The boy shut up really quick. Taehyung knew the boy was talking like this to V because he thought Taehyung was 'queer' now, and hence won't hesitate to beat the shit out of him. But no, instead, Taehyung leaned down to face him.

"Eat this," Taehyung said, and then picked up his plate of french toast and spat on it. Jungkook's eyes widened, and Taehyung kept the plate back on his table. The boy gasped, his friends looking mortified.

Taehyung turned around and then grabbed Jungkook's hand, walking down with him back to the table with their friends. When they reached, it was silent. Taehyung ignored them and sat down on the seat, and pulled Jungkook down on his lap.

Taehyung grabbed the plate of french toast he'd got for the two of them. Jungkook looked at him with big eyes. Taehyung slung his arm around his waist and then smiled at him. "Here," Taehyung said, taking a strawberry and holding it close to his mouth.

Jungkook blinked his doe eyes and then nibbled on the tip of the strawberry, cheeks matching the shade of the fruit. Taehyung smiled fondly at the boy. Taehyung reached forward and pressed a feathery kiss to his forehead.

"It's like a fucking fashion trend, huh? One second you're straight, and the next you decide to try being a fag-"

"Shut the fuck up, Yoongi," Taehyung shouted, and all the people on the table (and some nearby) got startled, including Jungkook. Taehyung's eyes darkened, fists clenching tightly on the table.

"Me being bisexual won't change who I am, you understand that? And you want to know so fucking badly, then fine. I'm in love with Jungkook, and I don't give a single shit what any of you think about that. I love him, and I have for months now. We've been together for ages, but just- got together properly now. So for the last time- shut the fuck up, and let me be happy." Taehyung growled, voice low.

Taehyung then turned to look at Jungkook, whose eyes were wide, looked a bit scared. Taehyung's dark expression softened upon seeing Jungkook. Taehyung kissed his nose. "More strawberries?"

Jungkook put his arms around Taehyung's neck, hugging him tightly. Taehyung squeezed his waist back, kissing his neck. "I love you," Jungkook whispered, and Taehyung smiled at him.

"Fine." Yoongi mumbled, looking away, embarrassed. "Sorry. I was just... confused."

"Wait. All those times you told us you had amazing anal sex with a girl-" Namjoon began.

"It was Jungkook." Taehyung nodded. Jungkook blushed and hid his face in Taehyung's hair. Eka choked on her water which she was sipping on.

"How many times have you guys done it in the locker room?" Namjoon asked, grimacing.

"Way too many times. Against all of your locker too. Out of spite." Taehyung said, and Jungkook giggled into Taehyung's hair.

"How do... dudes even have sex?" Hoseok asked, voice small.

"You put your left foot in, you take your left foot out, put your right foot in and shake it all about. Do the hokey pokey, and turn yourself around. That's what it's all ab-"

"You're such a dork," Jungkook said, and Taehyung started giggling, nudging his nose with Jungkook's.

"Yeah, your dork." Taehyung murmured, and Jungkook smiled and kissed his nose. Jungkook looked into Taehyung's deep brown eyes and then felt his insides bloom. He's so lucky.

They both began eating the french toast, Taehyung feeding Jungkook, and Jungkook feeding Taehyung. The others were in conversation with each other, while Jungkook and Taehyung were lost in their own little world, feeding each other banana slices dipped in chocolate and giggling when some of the sauce got on their face.

"Doesn't it hurt to take it up the butt?" Jin asked. Jungkook looked at him with a snicker. Taehyung did as well.

"Kind of." Eka and Jungkook said at the same time. Everyone started laughing.

After breakfast, Taehyung and Jungkook walked out of the cafeteria hand in hand, ignoring all the looks and whispers, because all that mattered was each other. And that was more than enough.

///

Jungkook and Taehyung were getting ready for school on a Wednesday morning. They'd been spending days and nights in Taehyung's dorm. Jimin didn't mind. Said it was their 'honeymoon phase' and they were allowed to spend it together.

People were ignorant, rude, judgement, and mean at first. But they kind of got used to it. Mainly because Taehyung scared the shit out of them.

Jungkook stopped holding back too. One time, he and Taehyung were walking down the hallway. Some guy called them fags. Jungkook turned around and slapped his books off and then took his calculator and ran away.

"Isn't it weird that Sehun hasn't talked to you yet?" Taehyung asked while fixing his hair in the mirror.

Jungkook shrugged. "I don't know. But Eka says she heard him and Jackson fucking in the janitor's closet. Good for them. Sehun finally found his top." Jungkook said, and Taehyung snickered. Jungkook was finding his perfume.

"Ha! Yeah. Poor guy. I mean, the image of you topping, that's pretty funny." Taehyung said, and Jungkook paused for a second.

Jungkook turned around and then looked at Taehyung in the mirror. Jungkook reached forward, and then wrapped his arms around Taehyung;s waist, putting his chin on Taehyung's shoulder.

"Taehyungie?" Jungkook asked softly. Taehyung looked at him in the mirror.

"Yes, baby?"

Jungkook looked at him. "I wanna top you."

Taehyung pulled Jungkook's arms off him and walked out of the bathroom. Jungkook pouted, seeing Taehyung open his closet to pick out a bandana. Jungkook whined, walking up to him.

"It's not a joke. I wanna try it. I've never done it before." Jungkook said, huffing and stomping his foot. Taehyung looked at him.

"I don't wanna try it."

Jungkook clasped his hands together. "Please!! Please please just once!! I love you, Taehyungie. You're always so loving to me, don't you deserve that too?"

"No." Taehyung scoffed. "I'm a terrible person. I don't deserve love. In fact, you should un-love me. I'll do the loving."

Jungkook blinked his big eyes at him. "Just one time," Jungkook said softly. Taehyung walked up to him and grabbed his waist. He leaned in. "No," Taehyung whispered, and Jungkook's shoulders dropped.

"Why not?" Jungkook asked, trying to look angry and scary, but in reality he looked like a cute little bunny.

"Because I don't want to, Jungkookie." Taehyung said, forcefully this time.

"Fine. I-I don't wanna force you." Jungkook said, and then bit his lip. Taehyung hummed, kissing his cheek. Then they picked their things up and left for classes.

///

Jungkook taehyung is pissing me off

Eka omg break up

Jungkook what no

Jungkook he is being V again 😡😡

Jimin

girl what that mean

Eka it means tae is being ~~~weird~~~

Jungkook he's being weird about this sex thing

Jimin he wont let u suck his toes

Jungkook no ew jimin i dont have a foot fetish

Eka wait till u see my feet <3

Jimin perhaps i three up

Jungkook ok but did yall see the new haircut on hoseok

Jungkook he looks like some rapper in a kpop group or something lmao

Eka yess he looks so hot 😍 plus he was totally flirting with me in biology yesterday i was feeling it

Eka hes so mmmmmmm i might slide into that

Jimin hoseok is terrible and horrible eka don't be with him

Eka you say that about every guy i talk abt lmao

Jimin its only because u deserve someone perfect who'll treat you like the amazing person you are

Eka oh

Jungkook awwwww

Jungkook anyways byee taes here

///

Taehyung walked into the dorm room, face red. Jungkook was sitting on his bed, in nothing but a pink sweater, hair falling on his eyes prettily, lips in a small pout as he texted away, his hands in sweater paws. Jungkook looked up at Taehyung and blinked his long lashes.

"Hey, Taehyungie. How was practice?" Jungkook asked, smiling softly.

Taehyung dropped his football bag on the floor, eyeing Jungkook with darkened eyes. Jungkook put his phone down, and then bunched his sweater sleeves onto his hands. "What's wrong?" Jungkook asked, tilting his head.

Today was Friday. The two were planning to have sex and then watch a fun movie. Jungkook had gotten impatient because Taehyung was late from practice, and opened himself up while showering, fingering himself with three fingers and almost cumming while doing so, but holding it in. Now, Taehyung was here, and he looked hungry for Jungkook.

"Can you call me daddy?" Taehyung asked suddenly, and Jungkook stilled.

Jungkook looked at him with confusion. "Um- w-what? You want me to... but you've never-" Jungkook began, and then saw Taehyung wasn't looking at him, but down at the floor, hair falling on his eyes and casting a shadow on them.

"Can you..." Taehyung trailed and then gulped, fists clenched. "Can you c-call me daddy while fucking me?"

Jungkook stilled. His eyes grew big. He brought his sweater paws up to his face, and then pressed them against his lips to not squeal. "You-" Jungkook began, and then scrambled off the bed, looking at Taehyung. "You want me to f-fuck you?"

Taehyung was looking away. "I-I thought about what you said," Taehyung trailed, and then slowly looked at Jungkook, whose eyes were big and glazed. "About- um- how you've never... y'know, done the fucking. And then I started thinking about how you were a virgin and how-how bad your first time was-"

Jungkook walked closer, and then gripped Taehyung's shirt, lips apart. "So I thought that- that maybe we should... y'know..."

"I don't wanna do it if that's the reason why. It seems like you only want it because you're upset about the virgin thingy." Jungkook said, blinking his moon-like eyes up at Taehyung. Taehyung cursed, looking away. "Is it?"

"Jungkook-"

"Is it, daddy?" Jungkook whispered, and Taehyung gripped his waist tighter. Taehyung closed his eyes.

"P-partially," Taehyung said. "What's the other reason?" Jungkook asked, words soft.

Taehyung looked irked, squeezing Jungkook's waist. Jungkook lifted his chin and turned his head to look at Taehyung. Taehyung let out a small breath he didn't know he was holding. "I want- I want you to fuck me," Taehyung mumbled off-handedly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Jungkook smiled big. He then squealed, hugging Taehyung's tightly. "Yes!! Yessss- gonna make this sooo good, Taehyungie!" Jungkook gasped, and Taehyung rolled his eyes but looked fond and slightly excited nonetheless.

"Strip, bitch!" Jungkook giggled. Taehyung frowned. Jungkook realized what he said, and then cupped his own cheeks, looking cute. "Strip, daddy."

"Hm. Better." Taehyung said, taking his shirt off and chucking it to the floor. "I cleaned up in the shower by the way," Taehyung mumbled, taking his shorts off. Jungkook cooed.

"Aw. Preparing yourself for me. I fingered myself in the shower." Jungkook said, and Taehyung's shoulders dropped.

"Oh. Well- I can fuck you if you want-"

"No! I want this how it is. I get fucked all the time. You can do it tomorrow morning or something." Jungkook said, jumping on the balls of his feet. Taehyung slid his boxers down and then snickered.

"You're a little too excited," Taehyung said, and then walked up to Jungkook, grabbing him by the waist. "Don't like it too much, yeah? Don't want you to pull a reverse Sehun."

"You don't like it too much, mister." Jungkook poked his chest. Taehyung scoffed. "As if. I love seeing how you look with my cock in your ass, baby. You know this."

"I dooo~" Jungkook sang, and then Taehyung climbed the bed, laying down against the head of the bed. "But I wanna see how you look with my-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." Taehyung said. Jungkook humphed, seeing the annoyed look on Taehyung's face. "Look, if you're going to be upset about it-"

"I'm not! I swear. I'm just... I'm scared. My masculine pride..." Taehyung sniffled dramatically. Jungkook laughed and then climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs and seating himself on his lap.

"Masculinity and femininity have nothing to do with topping and bottoming, silly." Jungkook said, and then giggled. "It's just sexual preferences," Jungkook said, and then leaned down and kissed Taehyung's lips. Jungkook smiled.

"Let's get started," Jungkook whispered, and Taehyung smiled fondly at his cuteness.

Taehyung gripped his waist and kissed his lips, both moving quickly. Jungkook wasn't wearing underwear, so Taehyung reached down and tugged at Jungkook's member. Jungkook squeaked into Taehyung's mouth and then pulled his mouth away.

"How do you want it, daddy?" Jungkook asked, dancing his nimble fingers on Taehyung's chest. "On your front? On all fours? Over the bed? Riding me? Or-"

"N-no-" Taehyung said, getting freaked out. "On my back. Like this is fine. Wanna see you." Taehyung said, and Jungkook nodded. Jungkook reached down and put his lips around Taehyung's cock.

Jungkook began sucking him off feverously, licking his tongue up his cock which was only semi-hard. Taehyung grunted, holding Jungkook's head down while he did so. Jungkook moved his mouth up and down his cock and then slowly dragged his lips up, resting them against the tip of Taehyung's dick.

Taehyung was fully hard now. Jungkook crawled over him and kissed a feathery kiss to his cheeks and forehead. Then, Jungkook reached over to the table and grabbed a bottle of lube.

"M'gonna finger you now," Jungkook said.

"What did I say?" Taehyung said, spanking Jungkook firmly, making the small boy jolt. Jungkook bit his lip. "S-sorry. Gonna finger you n-now, daddy."

"Hm." Taehyung grinned, and Jungkook gripped Taehyung's thighs and pulled them apart, giggling at how Taehyung flushed red and pressed his legs back together.

"Tae~," Jungkook said softly, and then kissed Taehyung's hip. "Don't worry. It's only me. You love me, don't you?"

Taehyung nodded, looking up at the ceiling. Jungkook sighed. "Look, if you let me fuck you, I'll let you spank me."

Taehyung spread his legs instantly. Jungkook started giggling. He opened the lube cap and drizzled it over his fingers. "Three fingers, right?" Jungkook asked.

"With your small ass hands, I'd probably need four."

"How about my fist instead?" Jungkook snapped, and Taehyung laughed. Jungkook giggled as well, and then closed the lube bottle and tossed it to the side. Jungkook reached between Taehyung's legs and then pressed his thumb against Taehyung's entrance.

"Fuck-" Taehyung let out. Jungkook pulled his thumb back. Taehyung blinked. "Well! That was fun. We're done now-"

"Taehyung I put my thumb against you! Shut up!" Jungkook said, and Taehyung looked at Jungkook who was between his legs. Jungkook pressed his fingertip into Taehyung's hole and Taehyung huffed.

"Don't worry, Daddy." Jungkook murmured, bringing his other sweaterpaw along to grip Taehyung's bicep. "It won't hurt," Jungkook said, and then pressed his fingertip in.

Taehyung bit his lip and closed his eyes, feeling the drag inside of him. "Nngh- that's weird. Okay. Put another one in." Taehyung said, and Jungkook nodded, pressing his second finger into him. "Yeah. Just like that. Good baby."

Jungkook turned pink at his words, and then saw how Taehyung's eyes glazed over, two fingers deep inside of him now. Jungkook curled his fingers experimentally, and saw Taehyung twitch, hands fisting around the sheets. Jungkook fucked those two fingers in and out of the boy, biting his lip.

"You look really pretty like this, Taehyungie," Jungkook said in honesty, and Taehyung looked up at him, silver hair sprawled out on the bed. "Look really pretty like- ah-" Jungkook cried out.

Taehyung had grabbed him by the thighs and pulled him closer in, making the boy topple over so he was lying on top of Taehyung. Jungkook put his knees on either side of the boy while looking down at him, continuing to thrust his fingers in.

"Hurry up." Taehyung said, and Jungkook frowned, but then pressed his third lubed finger in. Taehyung let out a sound, arching his back. "Oh- god- that's a stretch. Fuck- how did you take four of my fingers that one time?"

"I'm the experienced one now." Jungkook giggled, and then fucked three fingers into Taehyung rather quickly. Jungkook reached his fingers up, grunting out. "Why can't I find your prostate?"

"Because you're a newbie. Or maybe I don't have a prostate. See, I was meant to be a top-" Taehyung began, and then let out a sudden whimper with closed eyes when he felt Jungkook's fingers brush against the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Taehyung. "Haha. Found it." Jungkook said, and then kissed Taehyung's lips. "You're all open. Gonna fuck you now." Jungkook said, dragging his fingers out of the boy.

Taehyung breathed heavily as Jungkook reached to the side to get a condom. Taehyung squeezed Jungkook's butt while Jungkook leaned over, giving it a harsh spank. Taehyung smiled at how Jungkook's cock twitched at that. Jungkook leaned back over and then hit Taehyung on the chest lightly with his fist. "Stop."

"No," Taehyung said, playing with Jungkook's squishy butt.

"Brat," Jungkook said, and Taehyung spanked him again. Jungkook bucked his hips up at that, and then let out a mewl. "D-daddy."

"Hm. Now fuck me, come on." Taehyung said, and Jungkook nodded, placing the condom over his cock. Jungkook tried pulling it down, but the elastic material snapped and fell to the side. Jungkook bit his lip.

"T-Taehyung I can't put it on!" Jungkook whined, and Taehyung sat up, sighing. Taehyung patted his cheek and then took the condom from his hands, slipping it over Jungkook's cock with ease. Jungkook looked up at Taehyung and then fluttered his pretty lashes.

"Thank you," Jungkook said, kissing his lips. Taehyung squeezed his hips, and then grabbed the bottle of lube and opened it, squirting the liquid all over Jungkook's cock. Jungkook squeaked out a whimper when Taehyung spread it over his cock with his hand, moving his hand up and down and coating the vicinity of his cock with the lube.

"You good now?" Taehyung said, and Jungkook nodded shyly. "Can baby fuck me, then? I really want it, Kookie." Taehyung said, and Jungkook nodded again, more eager.

"Want m-my cock?" Jungkook asked, and Taehyung lay down on the bed, knees facing the ceiling as he brought them up, spreading his legs. Taehyung squeezed his hard cock between his legs and then nodded.

"Yeah. Please. Come on-" Taehyung groaned impatiently. Jungkook put his hands on the bed and then pressed the tip of his cock to Taehyung's hole. Jungkook looked at Taehyung unsurely, but Taehyung wined, tipping his head back. "Jungkook! Fuck me-"

"Sorry daddy," Jungkook said, and then pressed his cock in slowly. Taehyung's eyes widened and he closed them quickly, letting out a choked moan.

"Ah fuck- that's- that's odd-" Taehyung rasped, closing his eyes. Jungkook continued to press into him, going slowly. "Yeah. That's really fuckin' weird- go faster."

"Okay," Jungkook said hastily, pressing into him quicker. Taehyung was flushed, and he let out another moan, louder than usual. "Nngh- Jungkookie- faster- please-"

Jungkook went in faster, filling him up. Taehyung took to it fast, didn't look pained or like he was going to cry. "Faster-"

"I-I can't! You- you're so tight-" Jungkook let out, and then slammed his hips into him. Taehyung moaned feverishly, fingers squeezing into his palm. Taehyung hummed. "Yeah. Just like that-"

Jungkook fucked into him again, and again. Taehyung let out a smirk, looking at Jungkook. "Harder."

"T-Taehyungie-" Jungkook squeaked, and Taehyung saw the expression on Jungkook's face and squeezed his walls around Jungkook's cock. Jungkook let out a gasp, closing his eyes. "Ah! F-fuck! Tae- d-do that again, please-"

Taehyung clenched around Jungkook's cock again, and Jungkook felt the hot pleasure shoot up his spine, whimpering out. Jungkook started fucking Taehyung faster, gripping his biceps. Taehyung gripped his hips and almost led him.

"S'fun, Kookie? Do you like it? Like fucking me, baby?" Taehyung asked, and Jungkook nodded quickly, sniffling. "Y-you're s-so-" Jungkook sniffled, and then fucked into Taehyung, and then slammed into his prostate. "-warm, I-"

Taehyung suddenly let out a loud whine, digging his fingers into Jungkook's waist. "K-Kook-" Taehyung let out, eyes big. Jungkook continued rolling his hips against that spot. "Fuck- baby- b-baby that feels r-really good-"

Jungkook had his head tucked in Taehyung's neck. Taehyung squeezed around Jungkook's cock again, his other hand fisting at his own cock. He heard Jungkook mewl lightly. Taehyung paused.

"Are you crying?" Taehyung asked.

"N-no. Shut- shut u-up-"

"Fuck-" Taehyung let out, and then Jungkook lifted his head up to look at him, holding himself up. Taehyung's features softened when he saw Jungkook's eyes full of tears. "Aw, my baby- you're actually crying! This is really sensitive on your cock, huh?"

Jungkook nodded, bottom lip jutting out, tear falling from his eye. Taehyung kissed him softly, cradling his sides and pressed his thumbs against Jungkook's nipples over his pink sweater. Jungkook cried into Taehyung's lips and then whimpered at the oversensitivity of Taehyung's velvet walls.

Jungkook sat up, his pink sweater riding up till his waist. Jungkook's hips moved delicately, fucking into Taehyung at a pace. Taehyung reeled at the feeling and then saw more tears spill out of Jungkook's starry eyes. "G-gonna cum-"

"Cum, baby boy." Taehyung said, and Jungkook bit his bottom lip and then pulled out of Taehyung's hole almost fully- only to slam it back in with full pressure. Taehyung gasped out at the feeling, jaw-dropping. Jungkook just put his hands against his face and then came.

Taehyung whimpered when Jungkook fucked his orgasm out in Taehyung, finally bottoming out and pulling out of Taehyung, breathing heavily, condom soiled. Jungkook sniffled at Taehyung, who looked at Jungkook with a small glint in his eye.

#

"You liked my cock, Taehyungie?" Jungkook said, giving him a watery smile. "Were moaning really loud, too. I think you might pull a Sehun-"

"That's it," Taehyung growled, and then sat up suddenly and flipped Jungkook over so he was on top of him. Jungkook let out a cry of confusion but got turned so he was on his front. Taehyung grabbed Jungkook's hips by either side and pulled them up so his ass was in the air.

"T-Taehyung-" Jungkook squeaked, and Taehyung grabbed the bottle of lube. "What are you-"

Jungkook let out a squeal of delight when Taehyung pressed the tip of the bottle of lube into Jungkook's ass and then squeezed the bottle so his hole got filled up with lube. Jungkook's jaw dropped, hands clutching the sheets. "T-Taehyung!" Jungkook cried, eyes wide.

Taehyung pulled the lube bottle away and dropped it, seeing Jungkook's hole wet and gleaming with lube. Jungkook let out strings of ah's, his hips getting pulled higher up, face getting pressed against the pillow, thighs spread apart, hole fluttering. Taehyung got up on his knees, grabbed Jungkook's hips, and then slammed his cock into him.

Jungkook screamed, practically, eyes filling with tears again. Taehyung moaned with a smirk, dropping his head back and sinking into Jungkook. "So- so fucking wet, fuck-"

"Taehyungie-" Jungkook sniffled, voice muffled against the pillow. Jungkook turned his head and craned his neck to look at Taehyung, who grabbed Jungkook's hips and began fucking into his sloppy hole. The squelching sound made them both feel giddy.

"My-" Taehyung fucked into him. "Baby-" Taehyung continued, slamming into his prostate. "Boy."

"Yours. Your b-baby." Jungkook said, and Taehyung hummed, bringing Jungkook's hips back and forth.

They kept going for another minute or two, until Taehyung simply couldn't control himself and came in Jungkook's ass, filling his already wet and sloppy hole with more cum. Taehyung pulled out slowly, breathing heavily. Jungkook's ass was still in the air, thighs trembling. Taehyung grinned at the sight and then turned him around softly. He kissed his collarbone and shoulder blades. Both kissed for a long time.

"W-was I good?" Jungkook asked.

"Amazing," Taehyung whispered, kissing Jungkook's collarbone. "Would love to do that again. Not any time soon, but again."

"Okie," Jungkook said, smiling drowsily up at the boy. "Love it when you fill me up."

"Me too," Taehyung said, and then lifted Jungkook up from the bed and took him to the shower. Though both had showered earlier in the day, they simply cleaned up. The boyfriends then got dressed in comfortable pajamas and decided to watch a movie.

Taehyung sat down on the bed and Jungkook jumped on his lap- and both groaned at the pain in their ass at the same time.

Jungkook giggled and kissed Taehyung's forehead. Taehyung squeezed Jungkook's waist. They both watched some movie while eating ramen- deciding not to go to the cafeteria for dinner. Taehyung had to pause the movie midway because Jungkook fell asleep on his lap.

Taehyung lay him down and they both fell asleep quickly, kissing each other while humming, both tasting like ramen.

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647265434544013312/forty-two

[abiteofnat]

AVOCADON’T EVEN TELL ME ABOUT WHERE THERE IS GOOD GUAC… 

Because last month in six days I ate Mexican food for dinner six times. That’s right, every single dinner somehow started with a big ole basket of tortilla chips and ended with greasy fingers and 3-6 tacos in my stomach.  I think at one point I just began to expect that my night would end in rice and corn tortillas, and then it just kept happening…

Is this anywhere near a complaint? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Mexican is in my top three favorite categories of food, the other two being Italian and Mediterranean (but bagels always, always coming in first above all), and so I tend to be a harsh critic. There’s also different types of Mexican food: the traditional, authentic type that’s hard to find but life changing when you do, the 3 a.m. places that are the real reason we even go out in the first place so we can end up in front of a chimichanga of shame after a somewhat irritating house party, and then the nearly authentic kind that has a dash of flair added. I LOVE ‘EM ALL. Most of these will be a mix of the first and last kind, as everyone who knows me knows the only 3 a.m. place I frequent is Allende Restaurant even though everyone else is a Taco Burrito Palace bitch. That Allende rice and white tile walls; nothing will comfort you and your premature hangover quite like it. When your friend is crying over that fuckboy and your friend’s friend drank about six beers too many? Take them to Allende! Can’t cry when you’re choking on horchata! 

I haven’t done a good taco roundup in a while and for a city that loovvesss margaritas as much as Chicago does it’s about time. How can I even write this after being up to my ears in salsa verde without wanting to throw up? IT WAS ALL JUST THAT GOOD. I’m living vicariously through my own memories from the past week and I am legitimately excited to write about these tacos.  

HERE WE GO. 

1. Adobo Grill 

On any given menu, there’s about 10% of things I have no interest in eating. Add on the 80% I can’t actually eat due to being vegetarian, and that leaves 10% of a menu that is up for grabs. The fact that the happy hour taco offered the night we went to Adobo Grill was one of the most astounding tacos I’ve ever had literally blows my mind- what! are! the! odds! For $2 a piece you could assume that it’s going to be chicken, beef, or some odd mixture because at Adobo the taco platters come in sets of three tacos with rice and beans for $15-19 so why would they give the good stuff for cheap… AND INSTEAD IT WAS A LUCIOUS FISH TACO, GRILLED TO GOLDEN PERFECTION. Topped with pico de gallo and spicy mayo sauce? Add in some of their fresh to death guac and a little spicy red salsa? It was almost tooooo good. The single corn tortilla held up beautifully against the moist, meaty fish and they did not skimp on anything even though it was 5:30 p.m. and happy hour drinks were flowing and the restaurant could have really taken advantage of that. These tacos have not left my mind, or my heart… 

Another thing so wonderful about this place: the patio! It’s open and covered in tasteful twinkle lights, with the giant mural (pictured) of a happy skeleton man a and some flowers that play off the orange and purple hues of the decor. To sit outside right across from Second City (great date night all in one city block!) and sip a Modelo pretty much means fucking euphoria, and then add in guac that actually tastes like guac and not avocado slime? KABOOM. As much as I want to say all guac is good guac Adobo puts a lot of places to shame (cough cough Chipotle how the frick is that shit celebrated so widely) and gives you a TON of incredible guac for $9. Chip score: 8/10. Guac score: 10/10. Vibes: 10/10. 

Insider scoop: Go for happy hour until 6 p.m., splurge for guac, add the salsa to everything, and order a side of plantains with sour cream. Never had plantains before? This is the perfect place to just trust the food blogger and go for it because you will DIE OVER THEM. 

2. Big Star

BIG STAR IS MY KING, QUEEN, AND THE ENTIRE KINGDOM. If you live in Chicago, and it is above freeze-my-nuts-off temperature, it is patio weather and any restaurant that puts 2 chairs and a table out front will be considered a patio destination. Like Adobo (but even better) Big Star goes above and beyond as it’s a mainly-patio restaurant, with bulb lights lights above every stainless steel table and the warmest, most inviting outdoor seating there is once the sun goes down. You can watch the people, see some street art, watch the Blue Line zoom by, and walk to Stan’s Donuts for a wide array of treats afterward (aka a blueberry cheese danish, YUMBO). 

Located in Wicker Park, a very artsy n’ cute section of Chicago that’s a bit more on the ~trendy~ side since lots of blogged about restaurants have opened up, Big Star offers tacos a la carte and the best chips and guacamole on that side of the highway. I have gone for the past two years close to my birthday to celebrate because the pitchers are insanely alcoholic and also delicious, serving about 6 glasses in each pitcher. With one marg being $9 and a pitcher being $36, it is an absolute steal and even if only two people are at the table it is worth the high price tag. Best part is that the pitcher comes with a wooden ladle which adds to the vibe of Big Star, but is also hilarious to stir your vat of tequila and juice with. Like witch’s potion, but probably even more dangerous! 

Once everyone is seated and with drink, it’s time for the poor waiter to scream over everyone to take the order. While Big Star is mostly outside, it’s verryyyyy loud due to the sheer amount of people and the music pumping from the inside section that leaves the doors/ windows wide open. We were seated near the window and with a group of ten, it was one of those nights that leaves your voice hoarse and your ears ringing but feeling like you had a good as heck time! My favorite vegetarian tacos are the:

- Taco de Zananhorias: try ordering that when you do not speak Spanish and are two margs deep! This taco is the best yet overlooked one on the menu, featuring spiced cooked carrots that are savory and still have a crunch to them, pumpkin seeds for flavor and texture, and an incredible spicy date & yogurt dressing that offers a chipotle kick to offset the sweetness of the carrots and the dates. Wrapped in a corn tortilla, this taco is actually a filling veggie taco that doesn’t just taste like red peppers topped in guac! Which is like 99% of most vegetarian tacos! The flavors in this are worth more than $2.50 a pop, which is what it will cost you. 

- Taco de Pescado: Your typical and delicious fried tilapia taco! Beer battered and with the expected crunch of cabbage, top with some line for a perfect fish taco. This is a good standby if you’re weary of the more creative ones. 

- THE WALKING TACO: Most of the table ordered this one! It’s a DAMN fever dream to eat! Let me preface by saying honey BBQ twist Fritos are my most coveted, most guilty snack that I find myself eating far too often and usually when I’m having a flip off the universe and treat yourself moment. So take the trusted, panty-dropping crunch of the Frito and then add buffalo sauce, beans, cheese, crema, and cilantro? STILL IN THE SNACK SIZE FRITO BAG? AND YOU EAT IT ALL WITH A FORK? FUCKIN NUTS GUYS. I know for a fact this stretches the authentic “Mexican food” title, but man that was a great business decision to include it. Once a year, as a birthday treat, the Walking Taco is my bitch. 

Shoutout to Big Star, the ideal location for any event that needs tequila. 

3. Garcia’s Restaurant 

Garcia’s feels like home due to the amount of times a meal there has included the same group of close friends, emotional conversations about sorority stuff, and late night escapes from boys that don’t understand when they’re ridiculous, we will go get mole and strawberry daiquiris instead of dealing with them. While I have no photos to share, I do have memories and the assurance that this place is truly authentic. From the large wooden chairs to the flags on the wall, atmosphere lacks but the food is absolutely incredible. I always order the Cheese Enchiladas with mole poblano on top, and it is the real mole that makes you warm from the inside out. It’s thick with notes of cocoa, spices, and not too sweet- almost bittersweet in fact, and with the pull of cheese inside chewy tortillas all rolled up underneath it is a rare find indeed. 

The chips & salsa take the cake in my book; they’re perfectly crispy and not greasy, and the salsa will make your eyes water but then before you know it your face is soaking wet because you ate ALL OF THE SALSA ANYWAY. Hurts so good, you know? 

And as mentioned the strawberry daiquiri is DOPE DOPE DOPE. Huge for the price, sweet and sugary with all the spicy food, and perfect for late night gossip. Or pregaming, either one. 

4. Taco Diablo 

An Evanston favorite! The OG Taco Diablo opened a few years ago and was an instant hit in the North Shore as it was a dark, intimate den of Mexican food, a place for casual drinks, and coated in sugar skull paintings and weird demonic creatures dancing around the bar area. Given the logo has little devils in it, it’s fitting that here they take a sultry, somewhat naughty approach to decor and food. We went once or twice a week and craved their guac that has a very specific lime & garlic undertone to it in the best way guac ever could, and the baskets of thin chips with rock salt sprinkled on the sides. 

No one was prepared for the morning we woke up and Beloved Taco Diablo had burned down, along with it’s neighboring restaurant Pine Yard. Needless to say, everyone was SHOOK and really genuinely upset that this tragedy struck such loved, run-by-good-people places. So then even more was no one prepared when the ashes were burried and from them rose A NEW TACO DIABO RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET! The owners of this cantina and the conjoining (long time closed) Asian-influence restaurant Lulu’s bought a double lot across the street and just went gung-ho on giving Evanston two of their favorite places back, which was like Christmas 100x over. The tacos from Taco Diablo AND the sesame peanut noodles from Lulu’s??? Next door??? HECKIN’ YES. I have literally downed a -very strong- marg with friends at Taco Diablo and then placed an order for the noodles to go to enjoy later in bed, and if that’s not employing DEMAND AND SUPPLY IDK WHAT IS. 

Go here for dinner with friends, a second date or a weekly drink date, and to sample every fucking thing on the menu. Especially the chilaquiles!!! 

5. Depot Nuevo

This one is hardest to type because we adore it, cherish it, crave it, owe many years of our lives to it way too much and in fact I will be here this week a couple times already. Depot graced our lives many moons ago in Wilmette and quickly became the neighborhood hub, as it’s downtown and in a real, separate house with a wraparound porch and the same smiling faces greeting you every single time. The menu offers your typical Mexican favorites such as tacos, fajitas, burritos + bowls, and of course guac and salsa, but with a slightly more upscale twist in a casual yet good-enough-for-a-life-event setting. The shrimp taco filled with crispy grilled shrimp, spicy crema, and actual slices of avocado are in my list of favorite foods in the entire world, but order the cheese quesadilla with a side of avocado and rice and holy frickle frackle you will never see quesadillas as a children’s food again. The cheese is juicy, chewy, stretchy, buttery, everything you could imagine and more. House-made corn tortillas and red salsa are impossible to describe, and the pomegranate margarita is the sweet n’ sour necessity to the meal that will linger in your mind for days afterward until you go back. 

Don’t brush it off because it’s in the quiet and sleepy suburbs. It is constantly busy, turnt, and I promise people in my friend group will be there heckling the staff and demanding elite service because we keep them in business. I THANK AND APPRECIATE YOUR WORK, DEPOT! 

That’s all I’ve got for you today friends, I hope this helps shape some weekend plans and gives you some new happy hour spots! What are your favorite Mexican restaurants?? Always looking for new places! 

-Natalie 

[lyndsaybones]

In Dreams 20 and Epilogue

Well, here we are my darlings. I want to give a big roaring thank you to everyone hung in there with me on this one. This was my first stab at a BIG story and while I felt overwhelmed and terrified most of the time, y’all’s love and encouragement kept me going. Truly, thank you.

Chapter 1...Chapter 2…Chapter 3…Chapter 4…Chapter 5 …Chapter 6…Chapter 7…Chapter 8 …Chapter 9...Chapter10… Chapter 11…Chapter 12…Chapter 13…Chapter 14…Chapter 15…Chapter 16…Chapter 17…Chapter 18...Chapter 19

On AO3

GEORGETOWN

WASHINGTON, DC

5:30 PM

He pushes the door open with his hip as he rifles through the mail. He gives each letter a cursory inspection before dropping them all in the appointed wicker basket by the door.

“Hey Scully!” he calls as he closes the door behind him and begins to shrug out of his jacket. “You’re never going to guess what happened. Lydia Seel died this morning. COD is still undetermined but I’m going to push to have the body sent here so you can do the autopsy,” he says as he toes out of his shoes. He heads to the kitchen and opens the fridge, rummaging about for something that didn’t come from the ground. Her resistance to processed food is admirable, but he could really go for bologna sandwich on white bread, preferably with a square of rubbery yellow cheese and Miracle Whip. Of course, none of those things are in this particular refrigerator, so he settles for some pasta salad and a beer.

“Scully?” he calls as he digs in, loosening his tie and releasing his top button. “Did you hear me?”

His heart quickens when he is met with only silence. He abandons the food and begins moving cautiously from room to room. He suspects she could be buried deep in the blankets, snoozing off a long day at Quantico. Or she could be in the tub, her puffy ankles propped up on the edge. She might even be in the baby’s room putting together one of the still-boxed items of furniture. It takes him just a few moments to realize she is none of those places.

Okay, she’s not home. Where else would she be?

He calls the office, no answer.

His heart is thudding so hard he can feel it in his back.

He calls her cell phone, no answer.

Sweat is beading at his temples.

He calls her mother, who answers, but hasn’t seen Dana all day.

He keeps his voice light, he doesn’t want to scare her.

“Is everything alright, Fox?” she asks nervously.

“I’m sure she’s just out running errands,” he says.

He calls her doctor’s office and finally seems to be getting somewhere.

“Dr. Hemenway sent her over to GW this morning for dehydration. She should’ve been released by now, though,” a puzzled nurse tells him.

“Can I speak to Dr. Hemenway?” he asks.

“She’s actually at GW right now doing a C-section. Maybe you should just head over there and I’ll tell her you’re on the way.”

A sharp and biting jab to her belly. A hard, angry cramp. She cries out but no one seems to be listening.

“It’s very important that you don’t move, dear,” the doctor says.

“Doctor” seems like a generous word at the moment.

As best she can figure, he injected her IV line with a sedative because she fell asleep in her room and woke up under the blinding glare of the OR lights. She can’t even make out faces and the voices around her are garbled, like they’re underwater.

There is a blinding pressure builds and builds and she tries to steady her breathing before it overtakes her. Suddenly a warm hand is wrapped around hers.

“It’s okay, Dana. It’s almost over,” she says.

She squints and blinks. The overhead lights halo her raven hair and make her dark eyes look almost black.

“I thought...we thought you were dead,” she gasps.

Diana looks at her mournfully as she reaches down and smoothes her hair away from her forehead.

“Sometimes I wish I was,” she says, her voice choked.

“She must hold still,” Kurtzweil says.

“Breathe through it, Dana,” Diana says as she draws a long breath in through her nose and out through her mouth.

“Why are you doing this?” she sobs as she tries to mimic Diana’s breathing.

“This is it. They’ll leave you alone now. They’ve got what they want,” Diana says, her voice strangely soothing. “Just breathe Dana.” She looks up, a worry line between her sharp eyebrows. “Can’t you give her something else? Why do you have to hurt her like this?”

The tears streak down her cheeks and she wills her body to be still, to protect the baby and just be still. It’s so hard. It hurts so much.

They must have given her “something” as Diana requested. She slips, slides, slows and falls under.

He is stifling the utter panic that brought him here as the elevator doors open. The lobby of Labor and Delivery is bright, painted with Easter colors and adorned with pictures of cherubic babies and ethereal-looking mothers. He’s seen the videos at birthing class and knows that new mothers don’t look like magazine covers and new babies kind of look like lizards. But he can appreciate the aesthetic they’re trying to project.

“I’m looking for Dana Scully?” he says as he approaches the desk.

Two nurses in peach colored scrubs smile up at him. “Sure thing! Are you dad to be?” one of them asks.

You’re goddamn right I am, he thinks. “Y-yes. Can you tell me where she is?” he asks.

“Fox?” a voice calls.

Dr. Hemenway approaches, her face creased with worry.

“Where is she?” he asks again.

“She’s in recovery right now. It’s going to be a while before you can see her.”

His knees wobble and stars dart across his field of vision.

“What the hell would she be in recovery for?” he nearly shouts.

“Fox, listen to me. She’s okay, the baby is okay. We’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened.”

“I’m sorry?” he says. He’s not sorry, he’s enraged.

“It looks like there was some kind of miscommunication. Another doctor here performed what’s called cordocentesis on Dana. It’s when we go in through the abdomen and withdraw a small amount of blood from the umbilical cord,” she explains, keeping her tone low and even.

“Why would that even be necessary?” he asks, grinding his molars together.

“For Dana, it’s not. It’s rarely used and only when we have inconclusive genetic results by other means of testing.”

“So who did this to her?” he asks, voice climbing, arms flailing.

“Like I said, we’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened.”

“I need to see her,” he says.  

Dread, rage, guilt are all chasing in mad circle like a current, completing a circuit that brings tears to his eyes, sends his muscles twitching, his voice quavering. Hemenway seems to sense that he is falling apart.

“Okay, okay,” she says as she reaches out and grips his forearm. “I’ll take you to her.”

The recovery room is stark white and so is she. She is asleep. No, not asleep, unconscious. There’s a difference.

They’ve got her on oxygen and there are monitor wires snaking out of the collar of her gown.

Dr. Hemenway pulls a chair up next to the bed and guides him to it.

“There’s a risk of hemorrhage and pre-term labor, but we’re monitoring her very closely. We’re keeping her sedated for the moment,” she says as she pulls back the blanket and shows him the monitors strapped to her belly. “This one records any contractions she may have,” she says as she points to a disk on the upper swell. “And this one monitors baby’s heartbeat.”

Her belly looks like a scoop of vanilla ice cream with a garish purple bruise that resembles blueberry sauce dotted just to the right of her belly button. He stares, unable to blink away the image of a giant needle boring into her.

“Listen,” Hemenway says as she adjusts a knob on one of the screens.

The sound of the baby’s heartbeat is all around him, taking up all the space in the room. Something so small, he thinks to himself. So, so small.

He gently reaches out and scoops up Scully’s hand.

“Dr. Hemenway, we’re going to need to get the FBI involved in this,” he says in a sotto voice.

“Fox, hospital administration is definitely going to be looking into it,” Hemenway assures him.

“And I’m sure they’ll have no problem cooperating with the FBI. A crime was committed. Dana Scully is a federal employee: she’s been assaulted. There will be an investigation.”

Scully doesn’t stir.

Consciousness comes slowly, like a sunrise. Sensations stream in, pushing in where shadows resided. Light casts over the hills and valleys of her body and the things that were sleeping awaken. The little hairs on her arms tighten and stand, like flowers looking for the intense corona of the sun. The pores on her cheeks feel like they are coming open, breathing out nocturnal carbon rich air and letting in humid oxygen. And like the sunrise, consciousness warms her. She senses the light behind her fallen eyelids, yellow, bright. Too bright.

She feels a hand on hers. Warm.

With the dawn, little things begin to move, flitting in lush green grass, hopping hither and yon. Birds pluck at the ground, twittering about, calling to one another in steady chirps. She is under a blanket of loamy earth and dense grass. Warm and protected and safe.

Her little creature is moving about as well, she thinks of a bunny deep inside a burrow, sweet and small but with powerful legs. A foot? A knee? Something presses and rolls just under her ribs and she groans.

Not a bunny. A baby. Her baby.

Consciousness came slowly. But awareness comes swiftly, like a stinging slap across her cheekbone. She startles, jolts and gasps as her eyes snap open.

The warm grass is gone and she realizes that she wasn’t covered in earth, but in warming blankets, the kind they have in the recovery room after an operation. The chirping isn’t that of birds, but monitors. She knows which is which based on sound alone. The one measuring her heart rate is frantic, the beeps much too close together. The one measuring the baby’s heart is catching all of the movements as well, it sounds like someone tapping erratically on a microphone.

He is cupping her face, making shushing, soothing sounds.

The cramp rolls through her like an earthquake, rumbling and constant, building and building until the mountain of her belly juts up tight and hard.

Her eyes slam shut again and she clamors for him, looking for him to steady her somehow, keep her from floating off of the bed.

“It’s too soon,” she chokes.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he tells her as he wraps around her.

His arms span her back, his chin atop the crown of her head, her forehead pressed against the sharp crest of his collarbone.

“Oooooooooh god,” she groans.

The ache plateaus and tapers off and the breath falls into her chest like mud falling into a sinkhole. She didn’t realize how tightly she’d had a hold on him until she let’s go, her knuckles stiff from clutching at him.

“Dr. Hemenway said you could contract for a while,” he says as he pushes her hair back from her face. “But it’ll stop. The baby isn’t coming yet.”

She isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince at that moment. Because it feels like the baby is coming imminently, trying to escape because it knows, somehow, that she can’t protect it, can’t even protect herself. It feels heavy, slippery against her pubic bone.

“They’re going to monitor you overnight,” he says softly. “And if things settle down, we’ll go home tomorrow.”

He raising the bed so she can sit up a bit, rearranging pillows, tucking blankets around her.

“She was there,” she says, trying to slow her breathing, her heart.“She was really there, I didn’t dream it.”

“I know. I saw the security footage. She looked right at the camera. She wanted us to see.”

She glances at the window. It was morning when she came here, bright light and cloudless blue skies. But it's gone now. She’s lost a whole day, the world has gone black and gray outside. The room is only dimly lit, a strip of fluorescent lighting on the wall over her bed.

“She was,” she closes her eyes, trying to snatch memories like pulling wet paper out of the water before the words disappear. “She was trying to comfort me. She said that they had what they wanted now.”

“Whether they do or they don’t,” he says as he sits down next to her. “I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not ever again.”

2 WEEKS LATER

GEORGETOWN

Sleep is hard to come by these days. She’s got insomnia from the hormones, up for two or three hours at a stretch during the night. He’s found her wandering about, shifting her weight from foot to foot, trying to get the baby to move into a better position so she can rest. She stands by the windows and watches the sleeping world and he sits, wherever she is and watches her.  When she finally can sleep, it’s never for long, leg cramps hit and jerk her into consciousness like pulling the ripcord on a parachute. She can barely breathe let alone tell him what’s wrong. He digs his thumbs into the rock hard muscle of her calf until it passes. She wipes tears from her eyes and thanks him as she tries to catch her breath. It’s nothing, he’s told her. He’d do anything for her. If it’s not the insomnia or the leg cramps, she has to pee, or she has heartburn, or the baby is moving too much, or her sciatic nerve is flaring and causing her to jerk like she’s been electrocuted.

She’s been sleeping now for almost four hours, the morning turning to afternoon. He is grateful that she has been so peaceful for so long. She had been up and down all night, unable to get comfortable, her back tight and achey. He wondered if she might be in early labor, but she denied it.

It seems now that she was right, as she often is.

She breathes softly, drawing in a long breath and yawning before opening her eyes. She looks around without moving, seeming to try and acclimate herself. She catches him watching her and smiles a little.

“How long was I out?” she asks groggily.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “Did it feel like enough?”

“For now,” she sighs at the tail end of another yawn.

“Hungry?” he asks as he gets up.

“Not really,” she says as she begins pulling at the pillows all around her, one between her knees, one flattened under her belly, one at the small of her back.

Sitting up is work, but she manages.

He wonders if she notices that he can’t stop staring at her. There’s very little that escapes her notice.

“What?” she asks softly.

“Nothing,” he says, a little shy that he was caught in the act.

“Seriously, what?”

Her hair is wavy and just a little wild, the creases from the pillow are imprinted on her face, her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed. He reaches out and brushes his thumb over the skin of her cheekbone.

“I was just thinking that you’ve never been more beautiful,” he says.

She chuckles at that and looks down at herself.

“I look like an upended Beetle,” she says with a mirthless laugh.

“Look, I know it’s cheesy,” he begins to explain. “But I just...I can’t help it. I look at you, like this,” he says, his hand coming to rest against taut skin of her abdomen. “I dunno Scully, it’s got me feeling some kinda way.”

“Some kinda way, huh?” she asks with a little grin.

“Yeah,” he says as he leans in kisses her. He swipes his tongue against her bottom lip experimentally. After what happened, they’ve not attempted anything in bed other than a solid night’s sleep.

She needs little encouragement, one hand coming up to his jaw, the other balling up the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay?” he asks against her mouth and praying that the answer is “yes.”

She nods as she lets go of him and starts working the buttons of her satin pajama shirt.

Jesus, he could just die right there and feel like he’d done alright in this life. There’s a spot atop her belly, a “V” of skin that resides between her swollen, heavy breasts, he wants to live out his days in that spot. He can feel her breathing and hear her heart and make out the morse code signals their daughter sends.

They’ve never verified that it’s a girl, but he doesn’t need to. He knows.

The phone trills on the nightstand and he groans with utter disappointment as he snatches it up and answers.

She offers a sad little smile and combs her fingers through his hair.

“Mulder,” he says, somewhere between a growl and an actual greeting.

“Agent mulder, it’s Ted Seel. Do you have a moment?”

5th AVENUE

NEW YORK CITY, NY

Diana Fowley shifts nervously in the brown leather captains chair. The room is full of men old enough to be her father, all of them grim-faced. How the hell did I end up here, she wonders.

“You have news?” the large, soft voiced man asks.

“I do,” he says as he takes a long draw from his cigarette and sits. “The samples we were able to procure were not what we hoped.”

“How is that possible?” a cutting voice asks. “The alterations to Agent Scully’s DNA all but guarantee immunity.”

“Not to mention Mulder’s exposure to the Tunguska vaccine,” another voice chimes in.

They all seem to shift simultaneously, moving nervously, navy and gray and black suits with non-descript craggy faces, shrouded in shadows.

“This was supposed to be our salvation,” the well manicured Englishman says.

“The vaccine works,” Cancer Man reminds them. “Diana owes her life to it.”

She smiles nervously at the mention of her name and her eyes dart to the floor.

“It’s enough to save the infected, yes. But it won’t kill them, won’t stop their plans,” the Englishman counters.

“The child’s blood holds no weapon. She’s not a resource for us,” Diana answers, wondering if any of them can tell that she’s lying.

“Was there anything, anything at all of value?”

“I'm told she has the same genetic markers for psychic ability as her parents, nothing more,” the CIgarette Smoking Man answers as he stubs out the cigarette in a heavy glass ashtray.

“And Kurtzweil?” the Englishman asks.

“He’s been dealt with,” the Cigarette Smoking Man says, the finality of his tone leaving no room for interpretation.

She’d been the one to “deal” with him herself. And the samples they’d stolen from Scully’s womb, she dealt with those too. It was surprising just how easy it was to make it appear inert, as though the baby had no natural immunity. One day, they’ll discover her duplicity. But not today.

GEORGETOWN

OCTOBER 13TH 7:30 PM

“Scully, it might be time to concede that you’re in labor,” Mulder says as he presses his palms against her lower back.

She grips the edge of the kitchen counter and sways side to side, breathing in deeply as she goes.

“It’s not labor until there’s a regular pattern of contractions,” she says with breathy pants.

“Well, you’ve been at it for a few hours now,” he reasons.

“It’s not labor, it’s back pain, round ligament pain,” she says letting out a long breath and straightening her back.

“That comes and goes every seven to ten minutes,” he adds. “Which sounds like a regular pattern to me.”

“It’s too soon,” she says as she turns and faces him. “We’ve got two weeks to go.”

“Babies can’t read calendars.”

Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are berry red. This is how she usually looks after a long run, save for the broad swoop of round flesh under her shirt.

“You've been timing them?” she asks.

“Yep, I take my position as labor coach very seriously.”

She nods and chews on the inside of her lip as she looks at nothing in particular. He swears he can hear her thinking in moments like this. Her agile mind clicking through an internal slide show of potential outcomes and possibilities.

“I think I wanna go lie down for a while,” she says to the air.

“Okay, I'll go get your things together,” he says as he watches her drift past him.

“No, it’s too early for that. This might not be the real deal,” she says with a wave of her hand.

He shakes his head and sighs. Her resistance isn’t that surprising, but he really did think that she might be more amenable to going to the hospital considering how thoroughly uncomfortable she’s been.

Regardless, this is very much the real deal and he knows it, so he gets to work gathering her things and making the necessary calls, first to Mrs. Scully and then Skinner. When he moves to the bedroom, she is on her side, brow knitted, jaw clenched, breathing in deep, rhythmic draws of air. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

“Scully?” he asks as he crouches next to the bed. “Let’s get going, huh?”

“Hmmmm, no,” she says, somewhere between words and a moan. “It’s too soon.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” he says, reaching out and finger combing her hair behind her ear.

“You don’t know that,” she sighs.

“But I do,” he tells her. “I do know it. I’ve seen her so clearly, Scully. And she’s perfect. C’mon, let’s go meet her.”

She blinks and a tear escapes. The lines on her face recede and smooth out, like tide waters erasing a message on the beach.

“Okay,” she breathes.

He helps her up, taking her small hands in his and bringing her to her feet.

“Does this count as your birthday present?” she asks him.

“Best one I’ll ever get,” he says.

GW HOSPITAL 9:27 PM

Skinner is standing guard in the hallway. There are agents in the lobby and covering the emergency exits and stairwells.

No one is coming near her and he is seeing to it personally.

Mulder emerges from the room, an empty plastic pitcher in his hand.

“How’s it going in there?” Skinner asks.

“Getting close, I think,” he answers. If ever he needed proof of how helpless he really is, it’s watching her grit through contractions and knowing there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I can go refill that if you want to stay with her,” Skinner offers.

“No, it’s okay. I needed to talk to you anyway.”

“About?” he asks.

He gestures forward and they begin to walk side by side down the overlit hall.

“I got a call from Ted Seel earlier today” he says. “Upon his wife’s death, he discovered a secret bank account in Lydia and Noelle’s names.”

“A lot of spouses hide money from one another, Mulder,” he says.

“Monthly payments that came in right up until the time of Lydia Seel’s arrest,” he says, making no effort to reduce the ominous tone in his voice. “Payments from a company called Rausch...sound familiar?”

Skinner looks like he’s been slapped.

“And your theory is?”

“I think Lydia Seel was being paid for her complicity,” he says as they reach the ice dispenser.

“Complicity in what?”

“We may never know for certain. But I believe it’s all connected. What happened to me, what was done to Scully, the broader conspiracy, all of it.”

“Do you have anything? Anything to go on at all?”

The ice machine pours out crystalized chips into the pitcher. He replaces the lid and digs into his pocket. From it, he draws a small glass vial. It it a lifeless bumble bee sits.

“We’ve got a place to start,” he says as he holds the vial at eye level.

“Fox! You'd better get in here!” Maggie Scully calls.

He stuffs the vial back in his pocket and heads back to the room at a jog.

“Show time?” he asks hopefully.

“Not quite,” Maggie says, her jaw tight. “She’s trying to leave.”

“What?” he asks, peering into the room.

Scully is digging through her bag and pulling out the clothes she arrived in.

“Scully? What’s going on?” he asks, approaching her slowly.

“We have to go home,” she says simply.

“Scully, slow down would ya?” he asks.

She furrows her brow and looks at him like he's grown an extra head.

“Are you gonna help me or what?” she asks tersely.

Before he has a chance to answer, her eyes slam shut as she doubles over. A noise boils out of her that is something akin to a sob or a moan. It’s a sound that manages to break his heart, but also leaves him hopeful. Hopeful that it will soon be over, that their daughter will be safe in her mother’s arms.

She is hanging onto the rail of the bed like a lifeline, her knuckles white, jaw tight.

“It’s too sooooooooon,” she wails.

“Dana!” Dr. Hemenway calls as she breezes into the room. “How’re we doing?”

“I gotta get outta here,” she whimpers as she drops her head onto the bed.

He draws up behind her, pressing his palms against her lower back.

“You’re safe,” he says softly. “The baby is safe. Just stay with me here, Scully.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” it comes out in a litany, prayers rising up and up and up.

“You can,” he tells her. “I know you can.”

“Dana,” Dr. Hemenway breaks in. “You’re in transition. That’s why you’re feeling so anxious right now. That means it’s almost over. You’re almost there.”

By the time they get her arranged on the bed, Mulder behind her, supporting her, she knows that she cannot go home and that there is no stopping this. She can feel the blinding pressure against her pubic bone and all she can do is let go and let her body do its job. She doesn’t need to be told to push, it’s happening all on its own and it feels so much better when she lets it happen.

Grace comes into the world quietly and it’s Mulder who cries first. Scully collapses against him, limp and heavy, breathing hard and deep. The baby’s four limbs are spread wide and rigid and her face his contorted in a silent wail.

“It’s her,” he sobs into her ear. “It’s Grace. She’s here.”

She opens her eyes as the baby opens her lungs, a long, wet cry and she feels the relief wash over her.

“I dreamed this,” he says softly.

EPILOGUE

3 YEARS LATER

He has lived this moment before, he knows. Or seen it perhaps? It seems like so long ago that he could connect the dots like this. But he knows, knows for certain that this is so intensely familiar.

The warm, salty air, the fine sand dusting his feet and legs, the constellation of fresh freckles across Scully’s nose, it’s like they’ve come home instead of going away.

“Keep digging, Gracie. Maybe you'll find buried treasure,” Mulder encourages with a smile.

“Like jewels, daddy?” she asks as she drives the blade of her plastic shovel into the wet sand.

“Who knows?” he says, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Better keep digging and see.”

“What do we do when there's no treasure?” Scully murmurs, her voice weary after a long day on the beach.

“Guess we’ll need to figure something out,” he says.

He looks and sees the setting sun creating a cameo silhouette of their daughter, the loose strands of her strawberry blonde hair looking like spun gold.

“This was a good idea. We needed this,” she sighs from under the brim of her floppy hat.

“Life’s too short not to do things like this,” he says. “You told me that once.”

“I did?” she asks.

“You did,” he says.

She looks at him from under the edge of the hat with one winking blue eye and smiles.

“I'm pretty smart,” she says.

“You are,” he affirms.

Gracie squeals with delight and throws her shovel aside.

“I found it!” she squeals. “I found treasure!”

“You did?” he asks with mock surprise.

Scully is eyeing him suspiciously, obviously hip to the fact that Gracie’s “treasure” is no happy accident.

“This is mine!” she says as she holds up a box wrapped in Tiffany blue paper. “It has ‘G' for Grace, see?”

“I see,” Scully’s tone somewhere between surprised and wary.

Mulder crawls forward and looks into the hole.

“This one must be for mommy then,” he says as he dusts the sand off of another box.

“What did you do?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Life is too short, Scully,” he says as he holds the box out to her. “This life we have, with our daughter,” he pauses as he rests his hand on the gentle swell of her belly, “and our son, this is what I want.”

She takes the box from his outstretched hand, tears welling in her eyes.

“Whatever the future holds, Scully, I want it to be with you, and for them.”

She smiles and nods and he knows that this time, it is no dream.

[raimie77-blog]

Road Trip, Chptr 3 Characters: Dean x Reader Sam Word Count:1,473 Warnings: light smut Dean woke you up early in the morning. “Rise and shine sweetheart, it's time to hit the road.” It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the light. “I'm moving, I'm moving.” “Okay, I'm going to go downstairs to that buffet thing and grab some chow. I'll bring it back to the room you get dressed.” You finished getting dressed and were packing your bag when Dean’s phone went off. It was Sam. “ Hey, Sammy what's up?” “Hey, how's the trip going.” “It’s going great. We had so much fun yesterday and your brother is already up, dressed, and grabbing breakfast. Also, last night he passed up a chance to go to the bar.” “Wow, that's so not like my brother.”, Sam chuckled. “Sam is everything okay? You sound strange.” “ No everything is fine. I was just checking in. I am glad your having a great time. You both deserve it.” Sam hung up the phone. When Dean came back you mentioned Sam called. “ If Sam says everything is Okay. I'm sure it is, now let's go.” Dean held the door open with one hand and waved you out with the other. You smiled, pleased with his enthusiasm. Around lunchtime you pulled up to a building that was shaped like a spaceship. The sign outside read “The Far Back Machine.” “ This is where we are eating?,” Dean asked. “Yes” You looked at Dean as he rolled his eyes. “ No judging it, til you try it.” You made your way into the restaurant where you were greeted by a woman dressed as Snow White. As she led you to your table you passed several waiters dressed as famous fictional characters. Dean looked around not highly enthused. You took your seat at the booth as the waitress arrived at the table. She went to hand you menus and you grabbed them both. Standing up, you pulled a slip of paper from your back pocket. So, this is our order. I took the liberty of looking up your menu online, this is what we will have. You say handing the menus back to Little Bo Peep. “Not going to tell me are you?” “Nope” The waitress returned with two cups of bubbling brew. “What is this?”, Dean asked the waitress. “ It's our bubbly brew essentially it's pineapple juice over dry ice.” “ Oh, yeah.”, he said flatly. When the waitress left you pulled a small flask from inside your jacket and dosed both drinks. Dean smiled at you with surprise,”nice.” “Hey, drink up. Let's go take pictures with some of the waiters.” Dean laughed, “No there is no one in here I want my picture with.” You leaned in close pointing to a waiter across from you. “ Not even Batman?” Dean stammered, “ Well maybe Batman.” You made your way around the restaurant taking photos. Dean insisted on photos with Batman, Captain America, Jack Sparrow, and oddly enough a female Zorro. Arriving back at your table just in time for your food to arrive. Dean was speechless when the John Wayne burger was laid in front of him. Thick sliced bacon, BBQ sauce, and double the grilled onions. “ You said no burgers every night. “ “Yeah, well it's not night. This burger had the highest rating on the website. I couldn't deny you that.” “Did you double the onions?” “ Yes” “Okay, come here. I need to kiss you before I devour these onions. Seriously, bring it on in.” You laughed,”Dean this is a family restaurant. “ Dean grabbed your waist and slid you next to him in the booth. He tipped your head back and kissed you deeply. “ Sorry, I had to.” “ No complaints baby. Now eat your burger.” Dean ate his burger in utter silence but, the look on his face was pure enjoyment. When they brought out Little Jack Horner's Blueberry pie you thought he'd lose it. He studied it, commenting on the flakiness of the crust and how perfect the delicate lattice top laid. When the waitress brought the check you paid in cash. “Okay let's get on the road.” “Wait, I didn't get to take my picture with my favorite character in the room.” “Okay, where are they. We can snap it on the way out.” “Right here,” Dean said. Turning his camera phone to selfie mode, he told you to smile. “Favorite character, huh?” “Absolutely,” he said kissing your cheek. “Now let’s go.” Scooting out of the booth, he held his hand out to you. Dean held your hand all the way to the car. Dropping it only to open your door. A half an hour from your destination you had Dean stop at a grocery store. “ Give me a few minutes and I'll be back.” You returned twenty minutes later with a paper bag full of groceries and a six pack. “What's all of this for?” “You’ll see.” Down the road you had Dean pull off to a wooded area. Once you came through a clearing you saw a succession of yurts made to look like teepees’. “ Stop at the office so, I can find out which one is ours.” Returning to the car you make your way to a yurt in the very back. You can see a grill and small fire pit outside of it with a pair of wooden chairs. “We are staying in a teepee?” “It's a yurt. It looks like a teepee but, once you go inside it's like a hotel room.” Once you made your way into the yurt. Dean could see what you meant. There was a large bed and even a small fireplace. “Wow, this is cool. It's like fancy camping.” “ Yup, and I have beer, steaks, and smores for dinner that I will be cooking for you.” You said, laying the bag on the table. “And look up there.” You said, pointing to large circular opening at the top of the yurt. “ Tonight you can have your way with me under the stars.” Dean looked at you and you saw a flicker in his eyes. He reached over and ran a finger down your cheek. “ There is no other place I'd rather be than with you right here, right now. Thank you for all of this.” Leaning forward he kissed you and with both hands on your waist, lifted you up wrapping your legs around his hips. He carried you over to the bed kissing you every step of the way. Laying you across the soft red comforter he murmured, “I think it's time we worked up an appetite.” Then he began to remove your clothes, never once breaking eye contact. He continued to cover you with kisses, light and delicate. He motioned for you to roll over and you did as he asked. Moving your hair aside, he continued the kisses from your neck to your lower back. Using his knee to part your legs, you could feel his erection rubbing against your center. He moved it around tickling your clit while you moaned. Once he was satisfied that you were sufficiently wet, he gently entered you. Holding on to your hips he pulled you up on your knees. You steadied yourself with the palm of your hands as he began his rhythmic thrusting. Slowly he entered you over and over again. You squealed with delight each time. The more you squealed the faster he began to thrust. He grabbed at your hair, pulling you backward. The intensity of his thrusts had become to much to bare. You were on the verge of climaxing when he released you. He now had both hands back on your ass and was grinding into you like a man possessed. Your squeals were now full force yells. The louder you yelled the faster he bucked you. Finally, he let out a yell of his own, deep and guttural both of your bodies shook with orgasm. You waited for him to pull out before you collapsed on your back. “Shit Dean, I wasn't for sure how much longer I could last.” “Me either,” he said with a ragged breath. “Seriously, can I just say this is the best road trip ever.” You looked at him and laughed. “ Yes, yes it is.” You eventually rose and cooked the steak and vegetables you’d bought on the grill. Dean built a fire in the fire pit and later on you sat in his lap making smores while he drank his beer. Feeding him the smores became an ooey gooey mess but, made for nice sticky kisses. Later that night Dean held you, as you pointed out stars to him through the opening in the yurt. You never wanted the night to end. But, sleep had to come so that you could awake to the final leg of your trip. So, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep.

[3one3]

The Sequel - 797

Will you be my valentine?

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

The Valentine’s Day breakfast included mini heart-shaped red velvet pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries, poached eggs with a leftover-avocado-based faux hollandaise sauce over tomato and toast, and little parfaits with yogurt, oats, honey, chia, and blueberries. It was served to André and Lukas and Lukas’ Valentine’s teddy bear in bed, after the morning sex with the older one and the morning diaper change with the younger one. They all ate together under the covers and watched DVR’d episodes of Die Sendung mit der Maus, which André insisted was the little boy’s favorite TV program for obvious reasons.

He was in a fantastically good mood by noon, and it wasn’t because he was like Christina and got the same kind of antidepressant benefits from orgasms, or at least not just because of that. André was elated because a solution he came up with for a problem was actually working, they were able to build on that solution to make a change that could potentially fix another problem, and they were doing it together. That is how relationships are supposed to work, he thought. His wife finally did the best she could to honestly and completely explain to him how she was feeling, he listened intently, internalized it, came up with a solution, she tried it out, they gave it time, and it seemed to be working. It was working well enough at least to try the same strategy to fix the next problem, and that was a decision they made together really, since Christina consulted him in her evidence gathering and conclusion phases. The player was sure that the fundamental structure of their relationship couldn’t be cracked if it was functioning on such a high level. Even if his wife was right and he was wrong- that living together again and getting Dirk back to the top wouldn’t eliminate their habit of expecting their worst instincts about one another to be confirmed and letting that lead to damaging arguments, he refused to believe that they could be in any serious trouble if they were so good at working together to get to a good place.

“Should we think about getting up and doing something soon?” Christina yawned after finishing her second coffee. Nobody wanted to get out of bed. Even Lukas was content to stay there. He had toys to play with and parents to stop him from falling off the mattress.

“It’s raining and it looks cold out.” André believed his weather statement was a sufficient answer. His time with his family was limited. Soon he would have to venture out in the rain and the cold and go train with his teammates.

“You don’t want to go...somewhere?” His wife really didn’t have designs on getting up either, but she felt kind of bad about coming to visit and spending their whole day in bed, especially since she had nothing to do once he left anyway. There was no flight back to London until morning so she and the baby were staying at the apartment without him that night.

“I really just want Mausi to need to have a nap so that I can f-u-c-k you again now that I’m actually awake. I feel like the proper way to celebrate Valentine’s is to let your girl sit on your face for a while and then c-u-m on hers.” The footballer used his expansive reach to slap her butt as she leaned over to put her empty mug on the nightstand.

“Wow. Much romance.” She rolled her eyes at his crudeness, but wasn’t turned off by it.

“I did order flowers for you, Prinzessin. I don’t know why they’re not here yet.” Seriously, where are her flowers, he thought, checking the time on his phone. I picked morning delivery so she doesn’t feel left out when all her girlfriends are Instagramming theirs. And because she’s not going to be here for very long to enjoy looking at them.

“It’s kind of a busy day for flowery deliver guys.” Christina scooted down the bed to lie completely flat and relish what that did for her spine. She also wiggled her toes and moved her feet around to distract Lukas from the tower he was trying to build with snap blocks like giant LEGOs. He followed and tried to capture her feet under the comforter the way a cat might.

“Does he look sleepy to you?”

“No.”

“What if we gave him more food? Post-lunch nap?”

“That would require me getting up to make him something.”

“I could do it.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”  

André took Lukas and Dave to the kitchen to make a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. Hot, heavy, cheesy food often brought on a nap for the little blonde whose hair was darkening seemingly by the day. Like his father, his locks changed in winter. While the boys cooked, Mom gave in and unplugged her phone to address whatever matters were waiting for her on it, and to send her other valentine a message.

“Hi hello buenos días will you be my valentine?” she wrote with the pink heart and lipstick stain emojis. She also sent him a kissy-face selfie while reclining in multiple pillows, and didn’t even care that her hair was a mess, she had no makeup on, and probably looked as if she just woke up. It was Juan and he was supposed to be her friendly valentine, so it didn’t matter. He immediately sent one back, but he was in the dressing room at Cobham and evidently just about to head out for training based on his cold weather protections. His tongue was sticking out and his eyes were blank, so the overall impression was funny and made her laugh.

“Many women have sent me roses and chocolate. I have not yet decided which one gets my heart. Send a gift and I will consider your application. Bye.”

He’s funny today, Christina snickered to herself. And he’s gotten a haircut. Thank god. He’s so much prettier when the sides are short. What gift shall I send him? She put the phone down for a second to fix her underwear. The seam around the side was stuck somewhere it didn’t belong, likely from her rolling about in bed for hours. Fixing her “front wedgie” inspired an idea for a gift for Juan in keeping with the theme of the day, if not with her designation of the Spaniard as her friendly valentine. There was her main valentine, André, her special valentine, Lukas, and then her many animal valentines too. Dirk was always one of her valentines, for example. Her friendly valentine was going to get a Valentine’s Day gift fitting with the nature of their friendship. She pushed her blanket down and snapped a photo of some of her fingers reaching into her little black underwear and pulling it down a bit, and sent it back with “bye” to match his message.

The photo itself sort of matched one he sent to her before Christmas, and which she saved. Neither photo included a face. For Christina that meant she didn’t have to worry about him showing anyone hers, and that André couldn’t have a cow about the one she saved. The photo album on his phone was dotted with anonymous sexy photos he kept from Instagram. They were both allowed to look at other people like that, and enjoy them. It only bothered the rider when the player did things like pause their foreplay to take a picture, like at Christmas. Then she thought he was getting too into the Instagram girls and wanted her to be like them. Otherwise, she didn’t care what he enjoyed looking at and the reverse was true too. Having the photo she’d just taken on her phone would be significantly harder to explain to him than the one of Juan’s anonymous crotch though. It had to be deleted right away. Christina thought of it like Juan’s hiding her toothbrush in his bathroom. He didn’t hide it because he was doing anything wrong, but because it was harder to explain it than not.

“Chriiiiiiiiis? Does the baby like mustard?” André asked loudly from the kitchen, highlighting a fundamental difference in the kind of Valentine’s Day she was having and the kind she could have been having.

“Not really,” Lukas’ mom shouted back. V-Day is breakfast in bed with a toddler, and the toys used are blocks and action figures rather than ones you order online and come in discreet packaging. It’s waiting for flowers to be delivered, and hoping the kid needs a nap so we can spend time alone. I bet V-Day with Juan would include some obscure kind of roses hand-delivered by him to the library he’d tell me to meet him at so he can show me some weirdly relevant and incredibly romantic or beautiful book, and then dinner somewhere dark and cozy, to be followed by the most intense hour of his face between my legs, and-

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” The BVB man appeared in the doorway to halt her mind’s wandering.

“He’ll eat it but he doesn’t really love it,” she told him about the mustard.

“Okay. Are you hungry again yet? Do you want a sandwich too?”

“No.”

“Are you starting without me?” her partner smiled. The blanket was still folded down away from her lap, and her left hand was back in her underwear. It wasn’t really doing anything significant in there, or even out of the ordinary. The girl who never wore pants in the house often touched herself idly and without purpose. She didn’t even realize she was doing it when André called her out. She had her email open and was thinking about the alternative Valentine’s Day celebration style.

“Yeah, hurry up,” she laughed nonetheless. Thinking about the dichotomy of her celebration and the one she could have had wasn’t about the differences between being with the German and being with the Spaniard. Her reflection was more about the fact that she had a son who would forever color things like holidays. They made the decision to make all their decisions include a third person, and that still felt oppressive to her at times. Her Valentine’s Day morning wasn’t bad, or unsatisfactory. Christina loved making heart-shaped pancakes for her boys, and she loved playing games with them. The loved-up-couple-with-no-kids-style way to enjoy the Hallmark holiday wasn’t any better, or more appealing. It was just another thing for her to think about- to fuel her borderline lamentation of the way things were when she wondered about how they might have been. That was one source of anxiety that André couldn’t do anything about. There was no way to remove a wall or remove a distraction and take that away the way he did for her with her feelings for Juan, or the way they arrived together at the decision to drop some of her sponsors.

Father and son returned a few minutes later with a warm sandwich and a sippy cup of warm milk. André was pulling out all the stops. A heavy meal could force a nap, and warm milk usually made Lukas think it was bedtime. That was a trick both parents employed when he woke up in the middle of the night. Both were aware that no scientific evidence supports the old wives’ tale that warm milk puts a baby to sleep. It was the habit that worked. Christina knew pumping the kid full of cheese and milk was going to make for a pretty gross diaper situation later on, but his dad was so keen to knock him out that she didn’t have the heart to complain about the method. She felt it would be silly and foolish to admonish him for trying everything he knew how so that they could be alone together again before he had to leave. His tactics worked. Lukas passed out and was delivered to his crib. Her flowers showed up too. Two-dozen baby pink roses in a white cardboard bucket arrived for her with a heart-shaped tin of dark chocolate covered pretzels, which she then wanted to eat more than she wanted to have more sex. The footballer had to take them away from her.

“You said you want me to sit on your face. I can sit on your face and eat pretzels at the same time,” she pouted as he walked away with her present. Not fair. You can’t give a girl chocolate on V-Day and then not even let her eat it! Especially when you have it delivered and it shows up late. He could have gotten me chocolate yesterday and had it here when I got up, and then I’d be full of chocolate by now and free for sex. That was just delinquent planning on his part. At least the flowers are pretty, she thought forlornly, glancing to her right at the pink blooms on the nightstand. André came back and went directly to the foot of the bed, from which he crawled between his girl’s legs. She bent her knees and captured his head with her thighs, and moved them back and forth just to be annoying. His beard brushed across her crotch but thankfully for her it was so soft at its longest by his chin that it didn’t poke through her underwear. Even her own hair poked through it from the other side when it was long-ish.

“You’re totally not in the mood for this, are you?” he questioned dejectedly while she laughed at him. His face stuck between her legs and being dragged right and left was unavoidably funny.

“What happened to deep conditioning your hair? Did I make your mom go buy coconut oil for nothing?” The amused rider released her partner’s head and reached forward to fluff his messy hair. It was too long for her taste. He spaced out his trims more in winter because he was always so cold. That affected shape. His head got kind of wide and square at the top, and the longest hair got longer and somehow exaggerated how far back his part started, giving the illusion of a hairline on the march.

“Did you just finish your period? Did you have it between last week and now? Or did you just fuck Juan like every day in between?” The poofy haired blonde sank down to rest his chin on her pubic bone and his cheek on her left thigh. His blue eyes looked mostly sad. I hope it’s one of those two things, he thought. Because if it’s not then it means she’s not into me right now, or not into sex in general, and I thought women are supposed to be approaching their sexual peak at her age. She can’t be going down the other side of that mountain already. That would ruin my life.

“No to both,” Christina frowned. “Why do you think that because I’m not foaming at the mouth to have sex the entire time I’m with you that it means I- I don’t even know. I don’t know what you think it means. I just see it upsetting you.”

“Because I miss being with you so much when you’re not here. We just got our sex life like back into shape over the holidays, right at the end, and I miss it. You come here to me with no appetite for it though, and-“

“That’s not true!” Her complaint was both sad and defensive because she felt unjustly persecuted. “You thought I was reluctant to have sex when I was here a week ago?”

“No, but-“

“Exactly. I wasn’t into it last night because we had a fight, and because I was processing that, and tired from that. We had sex this morning. It was really nice. I don’t understand why it’s a major problem for you that I asked about your hair just now instead of ripping my clothes off and opening my legs in response to you suggesting I’m not in the mood “for this”. Is it just Juan? You think he’s getting all the sex and you’re not?”

“It’s hard not to at least consider that.”

“I’ve been with him one time in a month and a half.”

“Okay.”

“Why did you tell me that arrangement wouldn’t be a problem if it’s clearly a problem?”

“It’s not a problem, Prinzessin.” André shook his head and freed himself from between the rather nice thighs in favor of lying next to their owner. “I’m sorry. It’s easier for me to think it’s his fault that you don’t jump me when you have the chance than it is to accept that it’s my own fault,” he sighed from the pillow next to her.

“It’s not your fault!” Christina groaned back at the ceiling. “There isn’t even an “it”. I wanted to play with your hair and it reminded me that we were going to condition it today with the coconut and the yogurt and honey. I wasn’t trying to get out of anything! Stop being such a baby,” she urged with a pat on his stomach, her tone softening. “I know it’s hard with the team when you don’t get to play much and prove yourself, but you don’t have that situation with me. Turn off the insecurity for a minute, okay? You know better. Relax. And then give me my pretzels back. The least you can do if you’re going to have a breakdown over nothing is give me a delicious snack to enjoy in the meantime, damn it.”

“You’re my favorite person,” the player declared as he clumsily engulfed her head in his arms for a hug. This is why I need her around. She stops me when I’m stupid instead of getting upset about it. It’s just so easy to feel like nobody wants anything to do with me right now though. It’s easy to assume it’s the same with her. It isn’t. Chris isn’t like the people who are only interested when you’re doing something good for them, or solving their problems. And it’s not even like she has to try. She doesn’t get bothered.

“I could be eating pretzels right now while you’re getting over yourself and suffocating me. It would be a challenge, but I’m up for it.”

“Will it be a good Valentine’s Day if I let you go get the pretzels and eat them while I eat you?” He released her head and grabbed a breast to jiggle under her shirt, his concern and anxiety both assuaged. That brief panic was gone, mostly because his wife’s sarcastic prodding and refusal to let him drag them into a serious conflict were stronger than his self-doubt.

“Yeah I guess but it would be a stellar V-Day if you got up and got the pretzels for me since you are the one who took them away in the first place, you mean lazy ogre.”

“Mean lazy ogre? Really? That’s what you’re going with?”  

“Go get my pretzels!” Christina kicked her feet and pounded the mattress with her fists- a proper tantrum that made her Valentine laugh at her first, and then sneak a quick kiss before getting out of bed to fetch the chocolate covered pretzels. In his opinion, she was allowed to do put-on tantrums if the primary reason for them was actually to end an awkward or unhappy situation, and that’s what she was up to. The pretzels weren’t that important. They were a convenient pivot, and when he returned them to her she took her underwear off and invited him to have a field day, no need to discuss who wanted who and how much, and no need to make an awkward transition from fighting to foreplay.

She literally ate pretzels while he licked, sucked, and fingered her to the point where she didn’t need the chocolate and salt anymore and abandoned the tin of treats in favor of making some of André’s favorite sounds, and pulling his dry hair. He thought about leaving her there, on the edge of satisfaction, so that he could enjoy the way she got when she was desperate. He could skip directly to the main event and make her wait until he caught up to her, which would mean begging, sexy pleading faces, taking matters into her own hands, whining, etc., all of which he loved to see, hear, and experience. He loved to be needed that badly. He loved when she just tried to use him to get herself off. But there was an upside to getting her off with just his mouth and fingers too, right away. Christina always felt a deep need to return the satisfaction after a particularly good orgasm. It would get her going again. She’d be diligent, creative, and sensitive to what worked. The BVB man decided he wanted that treatment. He wanted her to enjoy her orgasm and then switch places with him to show the same kind of love with her mouth and fingers. Then he could be lazy and calm too, with nothing to do but recline and be taken care of, or perhaps eat some pretzels.

A midday blowjob of the highest quality was another reminder for him why he desperately needed to get the whole family into one house. After having his fun, and after Christina washed her face, the couple had a serious talk about the move. They called Zoe to get some details, and consulted Tom, Isandro, and the kids. Isandro was tasked with organizing and packing equipment and supplies at home while the horses were in Sweden, though they would still be coming home after. Tom was in charge of getting bedding, hay, and grain delivered to the new place, and making a final decision on hiring another groom. Stefanie and Christina would go over on the first of March, a few days after Sweden, to take “delivery” of the kids’ new apartment and help Tom get stalls ready for the first horse delivery. They were going to ship 5 and 5, split over several days, and use the extra space in the hauler for cargo. That way they didn’t end up with 10 horses and massive amounts of stuff to put away at once. While that was going on, Zoe’s people would be unloading the entire contents of the London house, which they would pack while the rider was in Sweden first and then down in Spain at Juan’s house for the couple of days in between the show and Dortmund. Christina would have Thursday and Friday to calmly get things ready for horses, and then the weekend to alternate between getting her horses settled in and working with her decorator to get the stuff into the new house.

It would surely be total chaos, but André figured chaos might be the best strategy. If his wife got overwhelmed or frustrated with what was happening at the house, she could go boss people around at the barn instead, and vice versa, rather than be trapped doing one or the other and having to get it done so that she could move onto the next one. And it left plenty of time to get situated and formulate a routine before the circus would need to get its act together to go to Omaha for the World Cup Final, god willing. Once the animals and the stuff were in the proper places, they’d just have to worry about getting all the kids moved. Kyle didn’t have much to take with him since the furniture in the cottage belonged to Christina and André and wasn’t moving. André offered to pay for a pod-type moving service for Stefanie and Espen so that they could just load all their stuff into a big container and have it picked up and delivered to their new places, though the latter didn’t actually have a new place yet, so hers would go to the house. The nanny was going to be staying full time with the family for a bit anyway while everyone got settled. That eliminated a headache for his wife, so he was happy to do it.

All that was left to be sorted was the Hazard ponies. Christina needed to find a facility for them with a good trainer and plenty of kids so that Yannis and Leo would still love to go ride, and Wizzy and Cornflakes would be maintained for them in the right way. She was going to keep Isandro on to look after them until that happened. Having just two ponies to take care of would give him plenty of time to work on finding another gig. That situation was the hardest on Christina. She didn’t want to say goodbye to her guy. She knew his next job probably wouldn’t be the same. It really upset her to have to force him out of the family, so to speak. Her partner had a secret plan for that. He was going to try to lure their stable manager to Germany too, even though he didn’t want to be further from his daughter. Tom told him on the low that he would be fine working with the Argentine and splitting the roles at in the new barn. It would be significantly more expensive to have them both on, however, compared to just Tom and a less qualified groom/laborer. The cost only factored into the footballer’s thinking because his wife’s riding was about to become less lucrative. If she ended some sponsor relationships then she was giving up some of her regular income- the kind not dependent on her success in the show ring. It wasn’t going to be a struggle to afford that kind of situation. It just wasn’t going to look all that intelligent on paper, especially in light of how much they spent on the new property without selling the old one. André considered that his headache. That was his problem to bear. He had to figure out how to make the numbers work. He promised Christina that she could have everything she wanted and that it would all work out perfectly, so it was on him to make it tenable, with the help of his agent and financial planner, of course. The three of them still needed to figure out what to do with the London estate too. André didn’t want to sell it, nor see it rot away while out of service, or ruined by a temporary tenant.

“The next time I see you, you’re here for good,” he smiled at her while saying goodbye when it was time to go to training.

“Yeah.” She smiled back meekly, trying to look as enthusiastic and excited about that prospect as her husband. Having a plan was reassuring for her too, but she was still dreading the finality of it all. She was still dreading moving. She even wished she wasn’t spending the night in Dortmund, because she wanted to go “home” and be in London as much as possible before having to give up London life. After the player left, the rider watched Lukas play on the floor and thought about how the best parts of her life were in her London life. Her spell as a resident there encompassed most of the most important things she’d ever done or experienced. That period was coming to an end and it was hard not to worry that it would always be the best period- that the next one, her new Dortmund life, wouldn’t compare. And that had nothing to do with day-to-day living and everything to do with what would happen throughout her life while living there- her career, Lukas’ upbringing, her marriage. Christina wondered if the highlights during “the Dortmund period” would be as special as the ones from the last 6 years.

[imhereforbvcky]

Pick Her Poison

Summary: Coffee shop meet cute: Bucky tries to convince you to have coffee with him.

Prompt(s): “I can fix this” for @just-some-drabbles​’ RomCom challenge!

Warnings: I think I swore once?

Word Count: 2557

It was a gloomy fall day all around. The grey and drizzle outside had persisted at least since you’d woke well before dawn that morning and trudged to your bus stop and into work. Even in your waterproof hooded jacket, the humidity clung to your skin and filled your lungs like a smooth heavy smoke.

Once you unlocked the door and shrugged out of your dripping coat, you rubbed your hands together and got to the first order of business: making yourself some coffee. With the lights to the shop still dim and the world outside not quite waking, you started up the massive ovens and pulled out the racks of small pastries the night shift had prepared before closing yesterday. The morning continued as always, you buzzed through the small shop, swapping fresh baked pastries from the oven to the display case, sometimes adding a drizzle of sweet, sticky icing, sometimes a bit of orange zest, sometimes a thick, warm chocolate sauce that would firm up just enough to stick as it cooled.

You still had about half an hour before you opened, when you finally turned off the ovens and put a shiny, sweet, clear glaze over a set of blueberry-peach tarts. There was no rush; it was the last batch for the morning so you painted the sticky gloss onto the fruit carefully, enjoying the familiar routine and humming along to the quiet acoustic covers playlist you’d put on. Your focus was interrupted by a rattling at the door.

A tall, broad figure in a dark hoodie and deep green cotton jacket tugged on the door, and finding it locked, dropped his head back in what you guessed to be a groan. How many times had you been there, rattling the security cage of the dry cleaner’s or begging the pharmacist behind the closed wall of metal to please, for the love of god, just hand you the already filled prescription sitting right fucking there. With a warm smile and a near laugh, you walked to the door and held it open for him.

As you reached for the light switch, finally illuminating the rest of the cafe beyond your oven and display area, he pushed back the hood and pushed his hands into his hair shaking out the dark, dripping locks. A few thick pieces fell forward near his eyes and when you turned back to him, prepared to make some mindless customer service small talk the words disappeared in your mouth. God he was so… his grey-blue eyes were piercing, especially against the dark shine of his slick hair. A drop of rainwater made a path down the slope of his nose as you took in the thick layer of scruff covering his jaw and those soft looking pink lips that you realized were moving. Shit. He was talking to you.

“...just pouring out. Thanks for opening up for me.”

“Oh uh, yeah, no problem,” you managed to recover. You smiled at him before quickly turning back toward the counter, praying he didn’t see the way you chewed your lip nervously. “Looks like it’s really coming down now, I think you need a better rain jacket.”

He chuckled softly and waited until you’d made it around the counter to face him before answering. “I guess it’s not really carrying its weight in this weather,” he agreed, running his fingers over the edge of the sopping dark green cotton. “But I’m sentimental.”

“Hmm sentimental and impractical,” you teased, shaking your head, “A dangerous combination. Sounds like you might be a romantic.”

The warm wave of his laughter hit your ears but it felt like it’d slammed into your gut. It was so rich and yet somehow gritty at the same time. And it sent little flutters through you as you grinned back at him and stepped into place behind the register. God, he had to see how hopelessly you were mesmerized by him.

“I’ve been called a lot of things before, sweetheart, but that is definitely not one of them.”

For some reason the little nickname that would normally make your blood boil, only sent another flutter through your stomach. This sopping stranger impeding on your quiet morning had somehow captured your full attention in the most pleasant way. He couldn’t have been more cryptic if he tried, you knew absolutely nothing about him apart from his sentimental love for that jacket and that he was an early riser.

“Alright then, stranger, what can I get for you?” you asked.

He pulled out a neatly folded, now soggy, piece of paper and tried to make out his own smeared scribbles as you copied them down, making sure to catch the names next to each order.

As you got to work on the drinks, you asked which was his, offering to make it first while he waited and sliding him a chocolate croissant. You took note of his name from the list of orders. “Bucky.” It certainly wasn’t the name you were expecting. When you asked about it he explained and the pair of you fell into casual conversation while you worked. It was light and easy. He was somehow both charming and a little reserved all at once and it drew you in like a magnet.

“There you go,” you smiled warmly, drinking in the cool blue-grey that stared back at you with a bright smile.

He thanked you and turned to go but stopped short. For a second, you panicked, making sure you hadn’t forgotten any of his order.

He quickly turned back to you, like he was forcing the words out as fast as he could before he lost his nerve. “Hey, when does your shift end?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, your mouth gaping open and closed, searching for the right answer. You liked him - a lot - but even you knew not to tell a complete stranger the ins and outs of your schedule. “Later today,” you finally managed, taking a rag and cleaning the espresso machine.

“I… sorry,” he stumbled, “I just… can I buy you a coffee?”

You glanced, purposefully at the large espresso machine in front of you and the bags and bags of coffee beans lined up behind you and offering only a playful smile.

“Right,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, how about tea? Hot chocolate? It seems a little early in the day for a hot toddy but…”

You laughed, leaning forward on the counter. Not wanting to let this go, but also unsure how to proceed. “I’ll tell you what, if you ever make it back here and you figure out my drink, I’ll come drink it with you.”

“I’ll take that offer,” he called to you with a wink as he backed out the door.

Bucky did make it back. He came early again a few days later and made the same long order plus one. The last drink he hadn’t written down for you. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, giving you a quick once over before asking for a mocha with caramel.

You smiled and began making the drinks. “Someone’s got a sweet tooth,” you observed, writing the order on the side of the cup and waiting for a name to write on it.

“Hopefully you,” he smirked, leaning forward with his elbow propped on the tall bar top.

“Is this for me?” you asked, incredulous that he’d been bold enough to just order the thing. He didn’t even know if you’d like it.

“It is if it’s your drink,” his smile grew into this playful arrogant thing that you somehow wanted to both savor and wipe off his face at the same time.

“Afraid not,” you grinned, sliding it over to him.

This continued for weeks. He’d come in every couple of days and order what he thought you might like. Sometimes he came early and ordered a handful of other coffees and left with a glance at you of apparent serious concentration, like he would decipher some code to your favorite coffee just by looking at you. Other times he just ordered his usual and something new for you and he’d sit by the window working on some paperwork, always glancing at you as if he expected you to change your mind and take the seat opposite him. But a deal’s a deal and you wouldn’t be stuck with the sugar coma drinks he always guessed at.

Rather quickly, you found yourself eager to come into work, hoping he’d come in and try again, that he’d smile at you and set your day off on a high. Honestly, there was no reason for you to keep tugging him along like this other than that it was the game now and you loved his attention. You loved how it felt to see him walk in and lean on his elbows on the bar top and explain exactly why he thought you had to be a pumpkin spice girl. If he’d just asked you out, you would’ve said yes. But this game made you feel special and important to someone and that just felt too damn good.

On one of these days he sat in his usual seat, bent over some paperwork. He’d already finished his own coffee and had started in on the failed drink he’d ordered for you. In truth, you wanted to laugh. The menu wasn’t that big, how could he take so damn long to figure it out?

“Well don’t you look dreamy today,” Natasha, one of your regulars, observed as she hovered by the register, taking in your far off stare. You honestly hadn’t even seen her. She definitely had a way of slipping in unnoticed and scaring the shit out of you if you were preoccupied with something else. She was like a cat. A very pretty cat. But you’d gotten used to it; she was a regular and a very fun one. The two of you had become friendly acquaintances, and you sometimes shared the odd things that happened in your day or gushed over common interests while she waited for her cinnamon macchiato, extra shot.

“I do not,” you dodged, shaking it off.

“Yes, yes you definitely do,” she insisted. You ignored her and turned to start making her drink, but she wouldn’t let it go. “Oh! Is the guy here?” She spun quickly, surveying the room for anyone watching you more closely than the others.

Finally relenting, you nodded behind her, “Yeah, your eight o’clock. Green jacket by the window.”

She casually turned to her left, leaning on the bar as if she were just coolly waiting. As her eyes landed on him, a sly smile crept across her face.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, rolling her eyes before turning back to you.

“I know, he’s cute right?” you laughed, “Like, really cute. Oh my god, Tash, you should have seen him that first day! Just a sopping cute puppy. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing waiting around here buying all these stupid drinks for me.”

She nearly snorted out a laugh. She and Sam had been teasing him relentlessly about his sudden taste for expensive coffee shop beverages and his recent eagerness to make the coffee runs.

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” she grinned, taking her drink and winking before she headed for the door.

You stuck your tongue out at her and laughed before getting back to work cleaning up after the morning rush. Letting your attention drift to your work, you didn’t notice as Natasha stopped in front of the window where Bucky was working. She tapped on the glass sharply, drawing his attention immediately. She pointed to him and then curled her finger back, beckoning for him to follow her.

She didn’t wait for him but he caught up anyway.

“So that’s why you keep making the coffee runs,” she smirked, only glancing at him as he stared at her, amazed at how she always seemed to know everything.

“What? What are you--?”

“Y/N. The coffee girl,” she deadpanned, taking a sip of her drink as they walked. “When are you going to stop this stalker thing and just ask her out?”

“I’m not…” he thought for a minute and then groaned, “Shit is this creepy? Does she think I’m stalking her?!” He was genuinely worried, suddenly shoving his hand into his hair, a nervous habit.

Natasha laughed. “No! I mean, it would be creepy if she weren’t into you. But she clearly is, so why haven’t you just asked her out yet?”

“I don’t know, it was kind of this thing where I’m trying to figure out what she likes to drink… Shit. It’s weird isn’t it?” Bucky had worried himself into never wanting to go back again.

“Okay, relax, I can fix this.”

“You are a cheater,” Bucky called clearly, arching his eyebrow as he approached your counter, daring you to disagree.

“I beg your pardon?” you laughed.

“You don’t even have a favorite drink!” he slammed both hands on the counter, like he was exasperated, but the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away.

“I don’t?” you asked, drawing out the words as you turned to start his usual.

“Nope. It depends on the day, doesn’t it?” he followed you down the bar to watch you closely. “In the fall you like cider with lots of cinnamon and nutmeg. When it’s extra cold you like a mocha, but with an extra shot so it’s not too sweet. When it’s warm and breezy you like iced chai with a little honey. But at night, when you can’t sleep, I bet you go for good old fashioned hot chocolate.”

“Wow!” You were genuinely surprised and he could read it all over your face. “And how do you know all this?” you asked, sliding his drink to him and lifting your steaming hot cider, extra cinnamon and nutmeg to your lips.

“I did my research this time,” he grinned. You continued to stare at him, more than a little confused. “Natasha told me. She knows everything about everyone. But that’s not the big question.”

Now you really were confused. You set down your mug of cider and grabbed a chocolate croissant out of the display case for him.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the big question?” you asked.

“The big question is: does your little trick mean that you really, really don’t want to have coffee with me and I should find a new coffee shop because I’ve harassed you for weeks without even realizing and should be too embarrassed to ever come back now? Or does it mean you wanted me to keep coming back and I should up the ante and ask you to come have dinner with me?”

You couldn’t help laughing, suddenly realizing your own mistake and relieved that Bucky had persisted. You wound your way around the counter with your cider in hand and sat at his usual table. “Definitely the latter.” With a nod to the seat across from you where he always sat, you smiled, warm and excited, finally, finally making good on your deal.

“Oh thank god,” Bucky sighed, taking a seat and picking up the croissant. “Because I’m addicted to these now. I don’t know if I could give them up.”

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