#so I’m here crying horizontally on a couch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neowinestainedress · 3 years ago

Text

under summer sky

title: under summer sky

pairings: suh johnny x lee taeyong x nakamoto yuta x jeong jaehyun x oc

genre: non-idol au, poly nct au, established relationship, smut, fluff (if you squint)

warnings: alcohol consumption (they’re all sober, though), unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t do it irl), sex with multiple partners, fivesome, oral sex (f and m receiving / face fuck), fingering, nipple play, riding, sub / dom dynamics, dom yuta, kind of hard dom Johnny, hard dom jaehyun, switch oc (sub in this), switch (sub leaning) taeyong, dirty talk, use of sir, daddy and mommy, pet names, praise kink, slight degradation, outdoor sex (not public), exhibitionism, spit roasting (yutae), choking, spanking, tiny bit of cum play, double penetration (johnjae), anal sex (f receiving), crying, size kink, slight dumbification, overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, squirting, minor m / m dynamics (they are ALL dating, still f / m focused), it’s pure filth i’ve got nothing more to say.

summary: a stressful week of work leads johnny, yuta, taeyong and their girlfriend to have some fun. But Jaehyun doesn’t like to be left out at all, especially when he had been working all day, so when he finds out what happened a hot night of passion takes place under the summer sky of London.

words count: 10.238k

a/n: you have no idea for how long I wanted to write a poly fic and I can’t believe it’s finally here. hope you’ll enjoy it, feedback is always appreciated, it motivates me and helps me get better. as always, keep in mind that english is not my first language.

"Yeah, sure, I can also make it horizontal for the Facebook cover. No worries, yeah," Jade huffed loudly, shutting off the call, rolling her head back against the couch’s headboard.

"Another call from her and you'll have to visit me in jail," she said, throwing the phone next to her with no care.

Yuta chuckled, leaning against the kitchen door frame. "What's going on, baby?"

"It's the twelfth time she calls me asking for changes of the logo and now she wants another design for the Facebook page, too. Like who even uses Facebook anymore?" She screamed, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

Johnny peaked his head behind Yuta, resting it on his shoulder, and smiled at her. "Need to unwind, angel?"

She hummed, running a hand on her face, "need to get back in time to slap my old self when I picked graphic design as a major."

"You could drop, though. We bring enough money at home to make it," Taeyong replied, sitting across the room in the big armchair, the book he was reading resting on top of his lap.

She rolled her eyes. "We already had this discussion, I'm not going to be a stay at home trophy wife." She glared at him. "Also, I love my job, I just hate clients, they are so demanding and have terrible taste."

Johnny snickered, shaking his head and then smirked. "Wife? Is this a marriage proposal?" He asked, starting to walk toward the couch, surpassing Yuta.

"Yeah, why not? A big screw you to patriarchy by proposing to four men instead of waiting for them to do that,” she joked, opening her arms to welcome Johnny.

“If you want to really screw patriarchy you shouldn't get married at all, you know that actually-”

"Yes, we know," she stopped Yuta, not really in the mood to listen to his nth rant about how anti-feminist the act of marriage was. Don't get her wrong, she loved talking with him about all those topics but not now. It definitely wasn't the right moment.

Yuta huffed but hurried to her and bent over to grasp her lips in a soft kiss.

“Hey, I was there before,” Johnny lamented, sitting next to her, his weight making the couch hollow.

“None of my business," Yuta answered deepening the kiss, his hands locking in her hair, slightly tugging at the nape of her neck to recline her face and get a better angle to kiss her.

A moan slipped out of her lips when she felt a pair of hands on her right thigh. It wasn't Yuta, not only because he was still busy cupping her face and holding her hair, but because they were bigger and a little bit more callous. Their touch was also very different. Johnny’s was firm, it was like he always had control over anything, he knew exactly what he was doing, not a glimpse of insecurity in his actions. Yuta's touch, instead, was needier, almost desperate to graze every inch of her.

"Pull away Nakamoto, she's not booked,” he ordered, pushing the Japanese back before grabbing her chin and tilting her face to kiss her.

Even their kisses were totally different. Yuta was hungry, always passionate and a little bit messy, but Johnny no. He was always calm and collected, even when situations were more heated. It was like he had a scheme to follow, to make her go crazy.

She heard Yuta huff and probably Taeyong place the book he was reading on the coffee table but couldn't focus on them when Johnny's hands tugged at her shorts and threw them on the ground.

A pair of lips grazed her neck and she jolted before rolling her head back, letting Taeyong nib at her skin. His lips were always chapped and drier than the other's but his kisses were the softest. Probably because he wasn't particularly dominant, and also always treated her like a jewel. Not that the others treated her badly, but they weren't afraid to be a little bit rougher. Taeyong on the other hand was always softer and extremely careful.

"Let's get this out of the way, uh?" Yuta teased, pushing her panties down her legs slowly.

"No," she moaned, lifting her head making the three men stop immediately, "Jae’s going to be mad if he finds out we had fun without him.”

Now, it wasn't like they had fivesomes every day. They had sex separately without any problem, but when they got all together, they had to be all.

Johnny was the first to laugh at her words. “You think so?” He teased. His fingers started to work again on her nipples under her shirt now that he knew she didn’t want the fun to be over but was just worried for their other boyfriend who, unlike them, was at work since this early morning.

"You know he doesn't like to be left out,” she answered, pressing her legs together, trying to stop the ache, but Yuta pulled them apart and lowered, his breath fanning her wet cunt. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes, trying not to give in to the need to be fucked. It had been an incredibly long week of work and they also had been extremely busy. Denying that she hadn’t been thinking about this the whole day, every time one of them passed next to her, was foolish.

"Well, he doesn't have to know, does he? " The tallest man replied, looking at the other two men in the room.

“He will know,” she mumbled, closing her eyes when Taeyong and Yuta’s mouths met her body at the same time, one closing around her nipple the other around her clit.

"Just relax baby, aren't you stressed?” Johnny reassured with a soothing voice.

She nodded, biting her lips to silence herself, but Johnny's fingers grazed them, freeing the lower lip from the grip of her teeth.

“Let it out, baby. We want to hear you,” he cooed with a sweet tone that hid an order.

Yuta wrapped his hands around her thighs and pushed her down, closer to him. His skilled tongue was working on her, lapping at her slit and then focusing on her clit, sucking and circling it.

Her hands found Johnny’s and held tight. Yuta was definitely the best one at giving her head. Not that the others weren't good, but Yuta loved it and would always be the first one to propose to go down on her, alongside Taeyong. But Taeyong was gentle, slow, and sometimes would get way too lost in the moment. Yuta instead was intense and also seemed to have a method made just for her, always keeping his focus on her need.

“Fuck, Yuta,” she cursed, head lolled back, mouth open and eyebrow knitted together.

“Good?" He asked, grinning against her, already knowing the answer. He knew he was good at it, he just wanted to hear her say it out loud, fuel his ego in front of the others.

“Mhh, yeah,” she moaned, hands clasping in Taeyong hair to push him closer to her boob and urge him to suck more harshly on her nipple.

Her other hand reached Johnny’s pants and tried to push his shorts down, but he stopped her before she could even try to slip a hand past the elastic band.

“No, sweetie, that's for you,” he said.

“But,” she tried to retort, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“No buts. Now kiss me.” She did as told and let her free hand travel down, pressing Yuta closer to her body while her hips bucked up.

“I’m close, please,” she moaned, silently begging the man with dyed ginger hair to insert some fingers in her but Yuta had one thing in mind, making her come just with his mouth and he had no intention to change it.

He quickened his movement and then spoke, “Then come, baby,” he urged, the vibration on her pussy sending her over the edge, the orgasm washing over like a warm wave.

“Feeling better?” Johnny asked, finally letting go of her lips, and she simply nodded, still under the haze of the orgasm she just had.

“One more, please,” she begged with pleading eyes. Jaehyun would've come home late and there was no way she would've last all that time with just that. Especially when the others, meaning Johnny and Yuta, would’ve spent the rest of the day teasing her.

Johnny looked at Yuta and he shared his gaze, they both turned at the same time to look at Taeyong and his flushed cheeks. He was kissing her sweetly and probably trying not to think about the painful boner in his pants. If they would've survived till tonight, he wouldn't, and they had no intention to hear him unsuccessfully try to suppress his moans as he jerked off in the shower.

"Why don't you ride our Yongie?" Johnny proposed, but it was an order and they both knew it, not that they minded, actually.

Their eyes lit up and Taeyong immediately sat down on the couch after discarding his clothes to the floor. His pretty cock springing against his abdomen. He wasn't the biggest of the four but she always found it the prettiest, also it was pretty veiny and she loved how it felt against her walls.

"So hard for me?" She cooed, tracing the length of his dick with two fingers.

“Jade,” Johnny warned sternly, she pressed her lips together and climbed on top of the man sitting next to her. “If you tease him, I'll tease you.”

She nodded and then lifted her hips, one hand grabbing his cock and the other resting on his shoulder to find the balance to lower on him.

She lolled her head back as she sunk down, feeling him stretching her. It didn't take her long to get used, he definitely wasn't Johnny or Jaehyun. But he was fairly thick, more than Yuta that, unlike him, was a little bit longer.

Taeyong immediately cupped her right boob in his hand after lifting her shirt off of her body, no more clothes getting in the way, while the other rested on her waist, guiding her movements.

“You're so good,” he praised, letting his head fall against the headboard, eyes slightly parted staring at her through his long lashes.

“You like it?" She asked, purposefully tightening her walls around him. “Like the way my pussy squeezes you?”

Taeyong nodded, biting his lips for a second before letting moans spill out of his mouth and she could come by that only. Taeyong was so fucking vocal and that made her lose her mind, his whines were music to her ears and the fact that he never held back made her always feel powerful. She was the one turning him into a whimpering mess, those moans were because of her and for her.

The romance of the moment was interrupted by the sharp sound that filled the room when Johnny’s palm met her ass.

She groaned, closing her eyes and tightening around Taeyong instinctively.

“Faster, ride him faster,” he ordered, hand resting around her hip. “You don't want me to fuck you on him, right?”

She shook her head and started accelerating her thrusts, her ass bouncing up and down Taeyong's thighs with every movement.

“Like this,” Johnny praised, fingers tracing her skin, teasing her rim, “good girl.”

“Taeyong fuck back into her, she doesn't have to get tired,” Yuta commanded, pinching the pink-haired man’s nipples.

“Stop, Jade, lean onto me,” Johnny said, holding her body in place by her hips, letting Taeyong do all the job.

The other glared at them, mad he had to do all the job, especially when she was so good at riding, but didn't stop, not even when Johnny let her down again, allowing her to move again.

Yuta sneaked his hands between their bodies and started to play with her clit, causing her head to fall back against Johnny’s shoulder, while she kept rocking up and down at a fast speed.

“Fuck, too tight, 'm gonna come,” Taeyong mumbled, nails digging in the skin of her waist where he was holding for dear life.

“No,” Johnny retorted, “you're coming with her.”

Taeyong whined, trying to hold the orgasm in, but it felt nearly impossible when she kept clenching around him and he could feel her cum drip down to his balls.

Looking down at him and seeing his face flushed in red, Jade said, “but I'm close too.”

“Not yet,” Johnny repeated in a serious, but calm, tone as he wrapped a hand around the base of Taeyong’s dick squeezing to prevent him from releasing.

“But Johnny, please,” she begged, head spinning as she felt Taeyong throb inside her.

“Johnny?” He asked, slapping her ass with an eyebrow raised.

“Daddy, please,” she corrected, trying to slow down her movement to help Taeyong and herself last longer, stilling against his base and moving her ass in circles.

Johnny shook his head. “Speed back up, Jade. Don’t play stupid games with me,” he warned, spanking her again, letting the agonizing torture go on while Yuta quickened his movements on her clit and she forced herself to pick up the fast speed of before as their thrusts started to get messier.

"Fuck," Taeyong cursed through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut as he felt tears threatening to slip out when Yuta started sucking on his nipple.

“Daddy, I need to come,” she pleaded, throwing one arm back to wrap it around Johnny’s neck and pull him closer.

The man behind her glanced at Taeyong and took in his absolutely devasted form, he was trying too hard not to come and by now it was probably on the limit of impossible to hold back. And even if it was funny seeing him like this, and how hard she tried to help him, this session was for her and she had already held it long enough.

“Go on, angel, come around Yongie’s cock,” he whispered, loud enough for the man to hear too and snap his eyes open, finally letting go at the pleasure.

With a smile on her face, she leaned down, trapping Taeyong’s lips in a kiss and started moving faster, clenching her walls around him as the climax hit them at the same time, coating him with her juices as he came inside of her.

She let her head rest against Taeyong's shoulders, body still shuddering from the orgasm, and he wrapped his arms around her back, patting gently.

“You did so well,” Johnny praised, caressing both of their heads and kissing their cheeks softly.

“Our good babies, aren’t you?” Yuta cooed, reaching out a hand for her to steady herself once she pulled away from Taeyong and stood up.

Taeyong blushed, covering his face with his hands; after sex praise always made him too conscious of how dominant the others were.

“Come on, let’s get you both cleaned up,” Johnny urged, grabbing Taeyong and lifting him on his shoulder, heading to the bathroom while Yuta walked side by side with Jade. “We don’t want Jaehyun to find you all dirty, right?”

“Hey, I’m home,” Jaehyun’s voice resonated through the walls of the big living room but nobody answered, the house was filled with silence.

He furrowed, glaring at the clock. It was later than usual but it was just 8 pm, and the summer sun was still lighting the sky, so they couldn’t be asleep, right?

He huffed, and running a hand through his hair he left his shoes next to the door before walking further into the house, pricking up his ears to try to hear the smallest sound that could lead him to his partners. And as he walked to the kitchen, he heard something; Jade and Yuta’s loud laugh ringing in the night while Taeyong was whining about something he couldn’t comprehend. A soft smile plastered on his face while he threw his bag on the couch before running to the kitchen, toward the door that led to their backyard.

The first to notice him was Jade who ran to him in a split second and jumped in his arms. “Jae!” She screamed, snuggling her face in the crook of his neck.

He smiled back and grabbed her waist and ass to keep her up. “Hey, love,” he greeted, gently blowing on her face to push a strand of hair out of the way, making her nose scrunch in a lovely expression. “Missed me?”

She nodded with a pout on her face. “It was a terrible day.”

Jaehyun chuckled, walking toward Johnny who was standing near the barbeque, grilling meat and some potatoes.

“Terrible day? What happened?” He asked, leaning toward the tall man to steal a kiss.

“Welcome home, love,” Johnny mumbled against the kiss before turning his attention to the meat again, eyebrow knitted in a focused expression while he tried not to burn it.

“Work,” she answered. “I can’t wait to finish with this client, she’s fucking me up,” she huffed, head resting against his shoulder as he walked around the table to also peck a kiss on Taeyong’s and Yuta’s lips.

“And I think four of us fucking you up is already enough, right?” Jaehyun joked, sitting on the chair between Taeyong and the empty one where she was sitting before.

She playfully slapped him. “Jae! Shut up,” and then burst out laughing along with the others.

“Anyway,” Taeyong said, filling Jaehyun's plate with some meat that Johnny had already cooked and kimchi, “how was your day? You didn’t even text.”

“Long, but good,” Jaehyun answered, opening some bottoms of his shirt, the hot weather was getting on his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything, but I had no free time.”

“Get off, Jade, he has to eat and you too,” Taeyong commanded, and reluctantly she obeyed, sitting back at her place.

“Were there hot models at the shooting?” She asked, chewing the end of her fork, head tilted to the side to stare at him. His mid-length brown hair falling on the side of his head, the drips of sweat running down his toned abs, the necklace hitting his chest... the only pictures she was playing in her head were unholy. She snapped out of it, clasping her legs together, feeling wetness pool down her folds just at the thought of what he could do to her.

Jaehyun smirked, both for the question and also for her reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Yeah, we had to take many photos pressed against each other, their hands on my body, you know, the norm,” he teased before pushing a piece of meat in his mouth, studying her reaction.

She pressed her lips together and breathed loudly through her nose. “Good for them, that’s the only thing they get to do with you,” she smiled fakely before stealing Yuta the last potato left on the plate.

“Hey! I saw that first,” he screamed, turning to Taeyong as if he had to intervene, but the man paid no attention and got up to help Johnny with something. Yuta rolled his eyes at her triumphant expression and then added, “Also stop being jealous, you’re sharing him with three others, it makes no sense.”

“Number one, I grabbed it first,” she sang, sticking her tongue out, “and number two, I’m not jealous.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I brought a girl over one day?” Jaehyun asked, she wasn’t looking at him but knew that he had a big smirk on his face.

She swallowed, hand clenching around the fork. Well, technically she couldn’t say a thing, they were in a polyamorous relationship, they were poly, God, even her could’ve fallen for somebody else unexpectedly, but she loved their little five-pieces polycule a little bit too much to think about adding somebody else.

“Of course, you can do whatever you want,” she replied, before grabbing her glass full of beer and pushing it down her throat in one go.

Jaehyun snickered and turned to Yuta who was shaking his head. “Worst actress ever,” the Japanese huffed, sipping on his drink too.

“Last round ready,” Johnny exclaimed, turning to the table with two trays full of food, interrupting their conversation. “I sacrificed myself by grilling on the 20th of July so you better eat everything, loves.”

“Yes, Dad,” Yuta answered playfully, pushing back the chair to his side to let him sit and finally eat too.

“Have you eaten lunch?” Taeyong asked, turning to Jaehyun, as he filled his own plate.

“Yeah, there was a good catering at the shooting, usually we have crumbs,” he commented, giggling at the memories of what he had to eat during the breaks of some past shootings.

“Wasn’t it supposed to end at 6:30?” Johnny asked, filling his glass before bringing it to his lips.

“Yeah, dragged longer because they had some problems, first with the lighting and then the tethering cable stopped working and they had to buy them at the moment or the shoot couldn’t go on.”

“Damn, that’s a problem. That’s why I always bring one more,” Johnny said, bragging about his professionalism.

“This photographer is fresh out of college, Johnny. If it wasn’t for us models carrying the shoot he would’ve gone home with the same two poses just with different clothes,” Jaehyun answered, dipping his food in the closest sauce without dwelling much about what it was.

“Why do big agencies hire those newbies?” Jade asked. She always received doors on her face every time she presented her portfolio to big agencies when she proposed as a digital assistant because they needed ‘somebody they could trust', bullshits.

Jaehyun shrugged, but Johnny answered instead. “It was a side project, surely. They have these slots for side shoots and they send new and young people so they can overwork them and also underpay them.” He shrugged, he had been there too, when he had started and had to put money away to be able to open his own studio.

“But they overwork models too,” she noted after swallowing the last piece of food on her plate, head resting on her palm as she felt the effects of the alcohol start to show as she started to feel incredibly hot. Surely it wasn't just for that, she couldn't blame the beer if her boyfriends looked incredibly hot right now, even if they were doing nothing. Johnny's tanned skin, Yuta's toned arms, Taeyong's thick thigh, Jaehyun's slim fingers... okay enough. She shook her head, hair falling on her face and grabbed her glass again, trying to focus on the conversation she momentarily zoned out from. Johnny probably said something but she only grasped the model answer, the topic still on the question she asked.

“Not really,” Jaehyun answered, “we just have to wait if something goes wrong but we have no responsibility, they have to give the agency something and fix what happens on set.”

“All of a sudden translating for a living doesn’t sound so bad at all,” Yuta joked, stretching and lifting his shirt over his head, throwing it behind on the grass, gaining a deadly glare from both Jade and Taeyong. “I’ll do the laundry next round,” he announced, raising his hands in the air.

Johnny and Jaehyun laughed before the latter sighed and started to unbutton all of the remaining bottoms of his blouse.

“What are you doing?” Jade asked, staring at him in shock.

“Getting rid of this,” he stated as if it was obvious. “It’s hot, Jade.”

She nodded, wetting her lips and drifting her eyes from him, but in front of her, there was Johnny who was now topless like the other two. She rolled her eyes and tried to focus on the food, filling her plate again and avoiding the fire between her legs. She hated how they could connect silently just to mess up with her.

The hot air turned a little bit colder when the sun started to sink behind the horizon, leaving the place to a nice July night with a sky filled with stars and a lovely breeze blowing on their skins.

The garden swing was big enough to accommodate all of them as they rocked back and forth while r&b music, chosen by Jaehyun, played in the background.

Jade was pressed between Jaehyun’s and Yuta’s bodies, their hot skins burning against hers, her knees pulled to her chest while Yuta played with her hair and Jaehyun caressed the back of her hand that was locked with his.

On the other side, Taeyong was resting his head against Johnny while the latter massaged his shoulder and neck, leaving sweet kisses on his temple every now and then.

“Aren’t you hot?” Jaehyun asked, voice incredibly sultry, the implication behind it the complete opposite of the soft gestures of his hands.

She hummed in affirmation, keeping her eyes closed, trying to focus on their hands and the romanticism of the moment and brushing off the heat that was rising on her skin, not given by the summer air.

“Then why don’t you take it off? It must be so constricting,” he teased, tugging down at her shirt.

“You know why,” she answered, opening her eyes and turning around to face his smirking, handsome, too handsome, face. She never wore a bra when she was inside, especially during summer, and she also stopped wearing them while going out most of the time. Her boobs weren’t small, but not even that big that she couldn’t live without something to support them. And they were all well aware of that since they made good use of her choice most of the time.

“No, why?” Jaehyun teased, playing dumb.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before standing from the backrest of the swing, pulling away from the two men and lifting her, technically Johnny’s, shirt, leaving her body exposed, the only clothes covering her now, the panties.

Jaehyun smirked in triumph as she leaned back again as if nothing happened.

“Much better, isn’t it?” He whispered, breath colliding against her neck and she hated how her body betrayed her, reacting at his deep voice and his hand palming her stomach. Her nipples hardened and perked up while she pressed her thighs tighter together.

“If you keep doing that your legs will become one,” Johnny noted from the other end of the swing and she cursed under her breath. How the hell he had eyes everywhere? Couldn’t he focus on Taeyong or the moon for once?

She could feel Jaehyun’s smirk against her skin and then his voice spoke again. “Want me to go lower?” He asked, thumb moving in circles on her tummy while his hand was still, warming her. She shook her head but Yuta was fast at reaching down for her inner thigh, pulling her legs open for the second time that day.

“Yuta, goddamn,” she cursed trying to sound menacing but a pathetic moan left her lips when Jaehyun’s hands buried in her completely drenched panties and pressed against her pussy. The ginger simply smirked at her reaction and folded her breast.

Jaehyun started to move the pads of his fingers up and down with a frown on his face.

“Now,” he mumbled, “you are a dirty little thing, and we know it, you’re probably thinking about this since you woke up,” he mocked, his other hand playing with the other nipple Yuta wasn’t paying any attention, “but this,” he said, pulling his cum coated fingers out, “is not all yours.”

His stern gaze made her draw her legs together, but he firmly kept them open as he studied the others' expressions. Yuta and Johnny were absolutely unbothered, Taeyong on the other hand...

Jaehyun snickered, getting up to bend in front of the man, just enough to come face-to-face with him. “Yongie,” he sang mockingly, signalling Johnny to push his hands out of his face, “Is this yours?” he asked, fingers tapping against the other’s lips, making their way into his mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered, not even waiting for him to answer. He already knew.

Once his fingers were clean, Jaehyun pulled out with a scoff and then got back to Jade, linking his fingers in the band of her panties and ripping them apart making her gasp.

“We’re outside, Jae,” she squeaked, panic running in her veins as she looked around. The backyard, and especially the swing, were pretty much covered from strangers' eyes but the windows of their neighbour’s house had a great view of the place.

Jaehyun scoffed, parting her legs more and plugging two fingers into her, the metal bar of his rings cutting her breath short in her lungs. “As if you care,” he taunted, leaning down to spit on her entrance, just because, not that he had lubrication problems given the mess that already was between her legs. And she loved it and the view, a little bit too much. Jade moaned loudly and Yuta quickly stuffed two fingers into her mouth to keep her quiet.

“We’re outside, Jae,” Jaehyun mimicked her, looking up at her as he kept moving his fingers inside out. “Not afraid somebody will see you, anymore?” He scorned, curling his fingers inside. “They all know what you sound like, angel, wouldn’t it be nice to also let them know what you look like while you’re getting fucked dumb?”

She rolled her eyes back, head falling against Yuta’s shoulders again, humming around his fingers, tongue twirling around his digits, just like she would've done if it was his cock.

“You’re so fucking desperate you couldn’t even wait, ugh?”

She wanted to talk back and tell him that actually, it had been Johnny and Yuta’s fault but she knew there was no point, not now at least. And also she didn’t stop them before, if she didn’t want to, it wouldn’t have happened, but it did, because Jaehyun was right, she couldn’t wait. They had been so busy during the last week they didn’t find a moment to spend like this, and honestly, it had been months since they all fucked together.

“Answer me when I talk to you,” he ordered, lightly slapping her inner thigh to gain her attention.

She struggled around Yuta’s digits before the man pulled out, rivers of saliva streaming down her chin to her neck. “Yes,” she mumbled, catching her breath again.

“Yes, what?” Jaehyun asked, fingers stilled inside of her, tips brushing against her most sensitive spot and rings pressing against her entrance.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, watery eyes looking up at him; biceps flexed supporting his body, abs contracted, necklaces hanging from his neck, lust-filled eyes boring holes in her.

Jaehyun simply nodded and resumed thrusting into her, leaving her a little bit disappointed, she wanted to be praised, she loved to be praised, but it seemed that that night she had to work for it. Jaehyun was pissed off, not mad, but annoyed the right amount to be harder than usual to soften up.

Right when she was about to feel her high approach Jaehyun pulled out, laughing at the disappointed huff that rolled out of her mouth.

“Taeyong, here,” he ordered sternly without sparing a glance at the other man.

Johnny pushed him up and gestured him to do as told and don’t make him wait any longer.

“Kneel,” Jaehyun ordered.

“Here?” Taeyong asked, voice shaky, eyes looking everywhere but the younger.

“In front of her, now,” Jaehyun gestured, moving to the side to block the swing from moving back and forth.

Taeyong did as told without wasting other time and found himself facing her dripping core, her feet were planted in the soft cushion underneath her, the left leg trapped by Yuta’s firm hold.

When he came back to the spot, Jaehyun’s fingers found his mouth again and now, with no words, he started sucking again, cleaning his digit and swallowing their juices.

“I want you to eat her out as if she is your last meal, Yong.”

“He- here?” Taeyong stuttered, looking around, staring at their open field.

“What? You don’t want to show the neighbours how much you love your silly little girlfriend?” Jaehyun asked in a mocking tone, hand grabbing his chin before pulling him into an aggressive kiss.

Taeyong nodded and immediately let his mouth lap at her pussy. His hands were resting against her thighs, nails digging into her skin, the slight pain pleasurable and overshadowed by the pleasure of his lips and tongue working on her.

Yuta huffed behind them, he needed to get some action but Jaehyun seemed to want to have full control of the night and he didn’t really want to go against him, so he started doing what he had interrupted, playing with her nipples.

“You taste so good, mommy,” Taeyong mumbled, face pressed against her heat, tongue pushing inside and out of her just to get back and lick her folds all the way to her clit, sucking harshly. Another thing about Taeyong in bed was that he was loud and sloppy. And the sounds, as filthy as they were, made Jade get extremely aroused. So she couldn’t quite contain the loud moans from slipping out of her mouth.

Jaehyun groaned and ran a hand through his hair before signalling Johnny to get up.

“First, you act all ashamed that somebody might see you and then you moan like a bitch in heat?” He said, cupping her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“’M sorry,” she mumbled, trying to keep her voice low.

Jaehyun scoffed. “Blah, blah, blah, instead of making up excuses put that pretty mouth to good use.”

She nodded and then gasped when he let go of her face and stared at Yuta as if the other man already knew what to do.

Yuta got up, and she whined at the loss of contact, she tried to find the replacement in Taeyong’s hand but before she could move, the tallest man stopped her.

“Yong, stop,” Johnny commanded before taking a few steps forward and moving her to lay on the seat, her head reclined behind hanging off at the left end of the swing, between the hole of the armrest.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” She asked, confused by the sudden, and odd, change of position.

“Shh,” he reassured, pulling her hair back so it wouldn’t stick to her face anymore, “getting you ready for Yuta.”

When he also left, she felt incredibly exposed, but Taeyong was swiftly brought back against her pussy by Johnny. The new position was a little bit more uncomfortable for the man, but it didn’t take him long to adjust and get back where he stopped.

She barely had the time to relax under Taeyong's act when the tip of a cock tapped against her lips, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth, okay?” Yuta soothed, giving his cock a few pumps before she let her mouth fall open and welcomed him in.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his heavy length against her tongue. She knew he would’ve started to go faster soon, he loved it to be messy, sloppy and fast, mostly because he knew she could take it with ease.

Yuta started slowly, giving her time to adjust before he picked up a quick speed, the position allowing him to reach the end of her throat better and slide into her more easily.

He wrapped a hand around her throat to keep her in place and squeezed, making her gag around his length before letting go, stroking the side of her neck with his thumb.

“Fuck,” he moaned, staring at the sight in front of him. It was incredibly hot, her legs sprawled as Taeyong worked dedicatedly on her, her boobs jumping because of his thrusts, sweat pearling their skins, and Jaehyun and Johnny’s gazes fixed on them. The whole idea of possible other watchers also turned him on quite a lot.

Yuta threw his head back, hips hammering against her mouth causing lewd gagging sounds to fill the space around them. He looked down and wiped away some strings of spit that were dripping out of her lips, menacing to reach her eyes, and then let his hand rest around her throat without applying any pressure.

She tapped three times against Yuta’s thigh, signalling him to pull away for a second, drool streaming down her neck and cheeks.

“I’m close, please,” she whined, trying to look up at Jaehyun. “I need to come, sir,” she pleaded with tears streaming down her face, both from the blowjob but also because at this point Taeyong was edging her without even knowing. But she knew she couldn’t come without Jaehyun’s permission, either way, he was going to make her see another orgasm in a month or make her come till she was a babbling mess.

“Taeyong,” he didn’t answer her and that made her rile up, she wanted him to talk to her, but she couldn’t dwell on it much that Yuta was pressing against her mouth again, forcing himself down her throat again. “Why don’t you show me how you fucked her while I was at work?”

Taeyong got up, chin glistening in her wetness and stared in front of him, where Yuta was basically fucking her throat and gulped. “She was riding,” he said, looking back at the tall man.

“Good, so you can reward her by fucking her and making her come, right?”

“Yes, sir,” he said and discarded his clothes to the ground, finally freeing his painfully hard boner.

“Yuta,” Johnny called this time and the other pulled out of her mouth in annoyance. “Jade, turn around,” he ordered and Yuta glared at him, waiting for an explanation. “I want to see her ass bounce while he fucks her, she’s not leaving your dick, Yuta,” Johnny explained and watched as she positioned herself on all four, ass perched up in the air, the cold breeze meeting her warm cunt making her shiver.

But the cold didn’t last much, because Taeyong immediately found her entrance again and filled her up in one decisive thrust, making her moan from the surprise.

“You better be quick, we also want to have fun,” Jaehyun reminded as the three of them started to pick up a rhythm again; the two bouncing her back and forth at each other, pushing in and out alternating. Yuta's hands were entangled in the messy ponytail he collected her hair in, and Taeyong's were gripping her waist tight, nails digging in her flesh once again. Jaehyun's warning wasn’t much of an order, they all were already to the limit. Taeyong had spent the whole time grinding against the swing, and it didn’t go unnoticed at Johnny and Jaehyun’s eyes, they simply let it slip. Yuta was seeing heaven as he thrust into her warm mouth. And she had been on the edge since God even knows when, probably since that afternoon, given she never stopped thinking unholy things.

And, as expected fact, it didn’t take long for their orgasm to explode. Yuta was the first one to give in to pleasure; when her tongue twirled against his tips and her cheeks hollowed particularly tight and her eyes looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, he lost it and came in her mouth, some cum spilling out on her cheeks and then even to her cleavage. It didn’t take Taeyong long to release into her as her walls clenched and she threw her head back, ass bouncing with every push, a sight heavenly enough to make his head spin.

Once they all rode their orgasms, the two men pulled away after leaving small kisses against her skin, and she was exposed to the night sky once again.

She felt her body give in and let her face press against the seat, surely staining it with cum and spit. Thank God, Taeyong was too fucked up to get mad at her for now.

She turned around when she felt a pair of hands on her waist, Johnny’s, and then another grasp her ass cheeks and pull them apart, making Taeyong’s cum spill out with a plop, running down her folds to her clit, before Jaehyun’s pushed it back in again with two fingers, stimulating her swollen hole again.

“Jae,” she whined, shaking her hips in protest, feeling super sensitive, but a smack on her ass reminded her what name she was supposed to use in the bedroom, or whatever place they found to fuck. “Sir,” she corrected, squeezing her eyes shut when she felt another finger enter her. His knuckles pressing against her before he pulled out completely, and repeated it over and over, pushing Taeyong's cum in and out.

“You always slip somewhere,” he mocked, “I was just about to say how good you did.”

“No,” she cried, shaking her head and trying to push her body closer to his, but Johnny was pressing her down, face flushed against the cushion.

“Yuta, grab a glass of water, please,” Johnny requested as soon as he saw that the other man somehow pulled himself together.

“I’m fine,” she whined, standing up when Johnny let go of the hold on her body. Jaehyun pulled out, wiping the cum against her asshole, making her moan softly.

But the older man shook his head and grabbed the glass from Yuta. “Drink up, love,” Johnny cooed, guiding her to drink, and with the peripherical view she saw Jaehyun disappear back inside, she furrowed and stopped drinking, he wasn’t dropping everything, right? “Jade,” Johnny called, forcing her to focus on him and the glass again. “Good girl,” he praised and she smiled dumbly, feeling the warmth spread all over her face.

“Sit on your knees, hands on your tights, and don’t move,” he ordered, placing the cup down. “Yuta, look after her.” And then went inside without another word.

“You did so well before,” Yuta complimented, walking toward her, and leaning down to leave a small peck against her lips. “And you too,” he added, kissing Taeyong who was sitting on one of the two fluffy puffs that were placed in front of the swing.

Before they could say anything else, the other two men were outside again, holding something she had no time to see because Jaehyun’s built body was standing in front of her, towering over her.

“Ass up again,” he ordered and she did as told, she was going to extract a soft pet name and praises from his lips by the end of the night, that was her only mission.

“Look at the mess between your legs, there’s cum everywhere,” he noted, fingers tracing her thighs, smearing the liquid even more and then parting her pussy again, other cum spilling out. He looked over Taeyong for a second, impressed by the seemingly endless quantity of cum he had put in her and then got back to her, pushing the white substance up to her other hole.

“Are you tired?” He asked, opening the lub bottle as he waited for her answer.

“No, sir,” she answered, obediently.

“Can you take me and Johnny –”

“Yes, – ”

“I wasn’t finished,” he said, stopping her, coating his fingers with lube. “Can you take me and Johnny at the same time?”

She stilled for a second, feeling the air getting knocked out of her lungs just at the thought of taking them both. It wasn’t the first time she took them together, and she actually really liked it, but let’s say that, out of all the combinations of boyfriends that were possible, this one was the most reckless. They, hands down, had the biggest dicks, Johnny was the longest and Jaehyun the thickest, so it always took a fair amount of time to get adjusted to them.

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, eyes meeting Johnny’s, “I can take yours and Daddy’s cock at the same time.”

“Well,” Jaehyun said, this time fighting the urge to praise her, but he wanted to see how far she was going to push to get what she wanted. So he pressed his finger against her opening and pushed, starting to prep her to take him from behind.

She relaxed under his touch, the hand that wasn’t busy fingering her ass was gently placed on her ass cheek, and his fingers grazed her inside so good that she could feel her toes curl in anticipation. Before him, she had never tried anal, but once she overcame the first fears, she found out she loved it, so much that it was one of the few things that also made her squirt.

“Want to go inside?” Johnny asked, sitting in front of her, stroking her hair and cheek.

“Now?” Jaehyun asked, furrowing a brow.

“I asked her, not you, shut up,” he replied and the other man simply shook his head, adding a third finger in her.

She muffled a moan before answering, “No, I like it here.”

Jaehyun raised a brow at Johnny as a silent ‘told you’ and the older simply rolled his eyes annoyed.

“Our baby loves to put on a show, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, sir,” she replied, arching her back more, meeting him halfway.

“Then let’s go,” he urged, pulling out, sitting on the empty space next to her, “sit on my cock, love.”

She almost jumped at the pet name, beaming him an already fucked out smile, before giving him her back and starting to lower down.

“Wait,” when she was just halfway in she stopped, suddenly realizing this wasn’t their usual position, “how are we doing this?”

“Do you trust us?” He replied, kissing her shoulder gently, his hand still gripping her waist to keep her in place.

“Yeah,” she whispered, looking up at Johnny.

“Then don’t worry and just relax,” he reassured her, hands caressing her waist gently.

She nodded, and sank down completely, head rolling back, already feeling full.

“You stretch me so good, sir,” she moaned, turning her face to kiss his neck.

“And you’re going to be stretched out even more, love,” Johnny said, squirting a fair amount of lube on his cock too.

She gulped, staring at his big throbbing cock. Taking him was always harder than the others but she couldn’t help but water at the sight and the idea of being filled by him. Johnny always felt good and was also the one who could keep his thrusts precise till the very end, always delivering breathtaking orgasms. He probably was the most selfless, always putting her pleasure before his.

Jaehyun’s hands grabbing her knees and pushing them up against her chest, leaving her completely exposed to the night air, brought her back, out of her thoughts. So that was how they were going to do... Lord.

“Are sure you can take it?” Johnny asked, his tip resting against her clit, left hand caressing her cheek gently.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, not really in the mood for a punishment, and answered, “Yes, it’s not the first time.”

“Jade, I don’t care about the other times,” he said. “Can you now?”

She nodded vigorously and tried to move her hips closer to him but the movement made her move up and down on Jaehyun’s cock that hit inside of her and she had to fight back a moan.

“If you do something like this again, we’re leaving you here, like a horny, unsatisfied mess,” Jaehyun threatened. “Got it?” he asked, tugging her hair, pulling it back.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going in,” Johnny said, one hand resting against Jaehyun’s shoulder to find balance the other around his cock to push into her.

She closed her eyes, feeling tears crowd at the corners of her eyes as he made his way into her, slowly, always careful not to hurt her, but, when she glanced down and realized he was barely half in, she cursed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, hand caressing her face.

She nodded. “Just, push in, please,” she begged. She wanted to get used to it as soon as possible, she needed to feel them. They had been teasing the whole day, well Johnny had, and she still didn’t have a taste.

So he did, pushed till his pubis pressed against her mound and their forehead touched.

Jaehyun let out a groan, feeling Johnny’s against the thin wall of her body and let his head fall back against the headboard.

“Move please,” she pleaded.

“As you wish,” Johnny said before starting to move, letting out a shaky moan at the sensation of her wet walls pulsing around him and Jaehyun's dick press against him.

“Fuck, so tight,” he moaned, head falling against her shoulder, kissing and biting on the skin, making her throw her head back. “Feels good?” He asked, raising his face to stare at her wrecked face, some spit and probably some cum too, still covering small patches of her face and neck, the hairline was damp and her lips were parted, desperately searching for air, her eyes were closed but from the wet lashes, Johnny could see she had shed some tears.

She hummed in response, biting her lips to muffle the loud sounds that were threatening to leave her mouth. It didn’t last long though, because at her answer, Jaehyun, finally, started to rock his hips up into her, adding more stimulation.

“Fuck,” she cursed, lifting her head up, hands finding Johnny’s biceps to steady herself, nails digging in his skin.

Johnny pressed against her body more, burying himself even deeper as the two men easily found a steady rhythm, alternating being inside her. It was amazing how well they worked together, always in unison making her head spin a thousand miles.

“Lean back against me, love,” Jaehyun cooed, hand leaving the back of her knee to rest around her neck.

She leaned into his touch, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling tears roll down her cheeks when they started to go faster and occasionally thrust into her at the same time, stretching her perfectly. Not only the stimulation was amazing but being pressed between her biggest boyfriends, completely enveloped by their bodies, made her stomach tighten.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl,” Johnny praised, grabbing her ankles to make them rest on his shoulder, being now able to go even deeper.

“Daddy, fuck,” she cursed, voice higher than usual, her nails digging again into his arms making him hiss in discomfort.

“Shh, you can take it, we know you can,” he reassured, leaning down to kiss her moans away.

“I’m gonna come,” she cried in the kiss, feeling the knot in her stomach get tighter.

“We’re not there, yet,” Jaehyun warned, hand leaving her neck to reach for her clit, “but I know you can come twice, right?”

She let out a loud whine, nodding mindlessly.

“Good girl, you waited all day for this, haven’t you?” He teased, skilled fingers playing on her sensitive bud of nerves. "Letting Taeyong fuck you because you need this like you need air."

And she couldn’t hold it anymore, his voice and hands were what she needed to let go and let the orgasm wash over, shamelessly moaning loudly before Johnny’s hand wrapped around her neck and squeezed, tight enough to restrict the flow of air but not enough to hurt. She felt her muscles shake and for a moment felt close to passing out, but Jaehyun was kissing her jaw and neck, and Johnny was spilling praises against her ears she couldn’t really make out, too fucked up and deep into an orgasm that seemed to last forever.

When it finally passed, she had no time to catch her breath, the two men were still thrusting up into her, their broad and fit bodies squeezing her in a mess of sweat and cum, making her feel incredibly small but so safe, no matter the vulnerability of the moment.

“Fuck, taking our cocks so well,” Jaehyun praised, one hand closing around her breast, playing with her incredibly hard nipple, “you were made just for us, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “just yours,” she mumbled. Which made Yuta snicker from behind them, it was absurd how possessive Jaehyun would get during sex, but it was still funny to see how their dynamics completely shifted in and out of the bedroom. And also, he had no time to say anything, too lost watching them, trying to not jack off like a horny teenage boy, but it was harder than expected because they were oh so hot, and Taeyong on his side already gave in and hearing his soft muffled whimpers didn’t help.

“Look at how pretty you look like this,” Johnny teased, thumb tracing the mascara stains on her cheeks, a shy smile plastered on her face as she felt another orgasm menacing to explode.

“I’m close,” she moaned, head pressing against the crook of Jaehyun’s neck.

“Don’t you dare come yet,” he groaned, hips pistoning into her at an inhumane speed.

“But, sir,” she whined, honestly more impressed they were still able to keep going and cursing their great stamina.

“Quiet,” he shut her up, hand wrapping around her neck pressing like Johnny did before. “Want to be a good girl for us?”

She nodded, not able to talk, because of his hand, because she was too lost in the moment and could only think about them fucking her over and over.

“Then let us fuck your holes and come when we say,” he finished, voice deep and hoarse.

“But,” she tried to retort again but his hands ran under the nape of her hair and pulled harshly.

“Come and I’ll put a vibrator into you at the highest speed and won't allow you to come till you pass out,” he whispered in her ears, only for her to hear.

Knowing he was one to keep promises, or ‘threats’, she nodded and tried to relax in their touch, trying to squeeze the muscles down there to hold the orgasm here.

“Is it too much for you, angel?” Johnny teased, and the contrast between the mockery in his tone and the sweet name made her whine louder.

“Look at how dumb you look, can’t even form a phrase for how much you love taking us,” Jaehyun mocked too, pinching her chin. She was by now just a whimpering mess, every inch of her skin was oversensitive and all of her senses felt amplified. The hot weather didn’t help at all, making her feel even more tired than usual. And their hands ravished her body, finally giving her the physical contact she had been craving all night, their lips biting and kissing her skin, hungry and needy for more. She felt wrecked, but there was something so exciting about being abandoned at their thrust, letting them fuck into her without trying to meet their strokes or holding onto them.

“We can stop if it’s too much,” Johnny proposed with a smirk on his face.

“No!” she screamed, shaking her head mindlessly. “Need you here,” she stuttered, trying hard to put words together. “Need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun cursed, hand squeezing tighter around her neck again, and looked up at Johnny, silently signalling him that he was close and that was the moment to do what they had planned earlier.

Johnny nodded and pressed his hand on her lower abdomen, pushing down making her jolt in surprise, her inside getting incredibly tight.

“What are you doing, daddy?” She asked, voice shaking.

He didn’t answer, instead, Jaehyun’s fingers reached for her clit again and her breath faltered.

“I –” she moaned, “I can’t take it anymore,” she cried, hand reaching for Jaehyun’s hair behind her, tugging tightly. “I need to come.”

“We know,” Jaehyun replied, “Can you squirt for us, love?”

She was surprised at first but then got it, of course, they wanted her to squirt. She nodded frenetically, honestly already feeling the different type of orgasm approaching before Jaehyun told her anything.

“Then come all over our cocks and we’re going to fill you with our cum,” Johnny said, pushing more against her belly while Jaehyun’s fingers started to move faster and their thrusts kept the steady rhythm.

She finally let go, feeling the orgasm wash over, this time completely different than the others, it was more intense and hit harder while a jet of transparent liquid squirted out of her, triggering Johnny’s orgasm too as he tried his best to not slip out of her and came inside. Soon after Jaehyun followed, not holding anymore when her ass clenched around him, coating her walls with white. And as he reached his orgasm, still thrusting in, the movement kept making her squirt, Johnny pulled out and started moving his tip on her swollen opening, making her jet hard and messily, cum squirting all over her boobs and his abs and probably also landing on Jaehyun.

“No more,” she begged with a string of voice, trying to push her legs closed, and they stopped. Johnny let her legs down, letting her rest on top of Jaehyun who was still inside, going soft, finally making her gaping hole breathe a little bit.

“Fuck,” Yuta cursed from behind them, cleaning his cum covered hand with a napkin. “You can do all that?”

She was too tired to answer, her eyelids felt heavy on her eyes and she tried to turn around and cover her body in Jaehyun’s embrace, he wrapped his arms around her, and patted her hair, trying to help her calm her irregular breath.

“Never done that with you?” Johnny teased, running a hand through his hair and stretching his back and legs, yes, he had great stamina but fuck, that was tiring.

“Clearly not,” Yuta muttered, side-eyeing his American boyfriend.

“Hey,” Jaehyun shook her lightly, “don’t fall asleep, love.”

“I’m tired,” she mumbled, trying to stick closer to him.

“Let me pull out of you at least,” he whispered, both arms gently wrapping around her waist to lift her up, his cock falling limp on his thigh while cum started to drip out of her and stick between their bodies. “You did so good, love,” he praised as she turned to the side, face buried in his neck, and he couldn’t mind all the cum leaking against his legs.

“Hey, angel,” Johnny called, hands brushing her hair behind, stroking her cheeks softly, “such a good girl for us, took us so well.”

She hummed mindlessly, enjoying the warmth of Jaehyun’s body and the gentleness behind his touch. He was probably the roughest in bed but as soon as they snapped out of it he turned as sweet as candy, surely the most whipped of the three. Johnny always made fun of him saying that she could’ve punched him and he wouldn’t even try to move to the side to avoid getting hit.

“Love,” Jaehyun called again, feeling her getting heavier, “we need to clean you up, you’re a mess.”

“I can’t stand up,” she mumbled against his skin.

“I’ll carry you to the bathroom, okay?” She mumbled something he couldn’t get, anyway, he stood up, carrying her in bridal style and started walking toward the door.

“Come in, it’s getting cold, I don’t want you to catch something,” Jaehyun said to the others as he opened the kitchen back door and entered the house.

Johnny rolled his eyes but nodded, turning around to grab their clothes, the lub and the glass, and Taeyong who was almost as tired as her.

“She won’t walk tomorrow,” Yuta stated, closing the door behind once they were all in, locking it with the keys and pushing the curtains over the window pane.

“Skt, so dramatic,” Johnny replied, throwing her broken panties in the bin, and placing the glass in the sink.

“It’s true though, you two always push her so much,” Yuta retorted.

“Says the one that ties her up and gags her at every good occasion,” Johnny joked, pushing him playfully.

“Okay, fair, but hey, I'm just one.”

“We’re almost done, resist just a little bit more,” Jaehyun cooed, passing the wet sponge between her legs, trying to not stimulate her more. She must’ve felt incredibly sensitive there and he didn’t want to see her pass out. “You did so good before, I was honestly surprised you lasted that much,” he affirmed in a caring, soft tone.

She chuckled, cupping a hand on his cheek. “Don’t believe in my skills?” She asked before bursting into a laugh.

“If I didn’t take all the beers out of your grab I would bet you are drunk,” he smiled, closing the water and opening the doors of the shower. “Also, I was just impressed by how good you are,” he added, wrapping a towel around his waist.

She smiled softly, “I love you,” she whispered, fingers poking his cheek.

“Love you, too,” he replied, leaving a quick kiss on her lips.

“By the way,” she started, when he lifted her out of the shower, pulling the bathrobe around her body, “this afternoon, was Johnny and Yuta’s idea.”

Jaehyun laughed, pulling her close, carrying her out of the bathroom like before to reach the others. “I know, love. I know.”

more: christmas special | how they got together series

2K notes · View notes

highdramas · 4 years ago

Text

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before?

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #my writing #the world's a little blurry #eeeee i'm so excited to post thissssss

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paperstorm · 2 years ago

Note

Since the phone sex scene is in later chapters, any chance we can get a lil snippet from next week's chapter? Sexy or no sexy, I'm not picky 😅❤️

Here you go <3

Tbh this one isn't really very spoilery but I'm putting it under a cut anyway

They have an entire day off on Friday, after they return to Dallas. No games, no practices, not so much as a team meeting or an optional skate. Coach Ryder had cheered with them on the jet on the way home, toasting with champagne in celebration of winning every one of their five games on the road, and then had informed them he didn’t want to see a single one of their faces for a full 24 hours.

TK had avoided the champagne successfully because everyone was too happy to notice he hadn’t sipped at his after it was poured.

He spends the entire day in his apartment with Carlos. They wake up together and they have slow, quiet sex in TK’s bed with messy hair and slightly stale kisses. Carlos makes them breakfast after they finally force themselves horizontal at nearly 11AM, and TK is very quickly realizing that cooking for people is one of the many ways Carlos demonstrates he cares about someone. He always wants to, and he gets a little hurt frown on his face when TK used to occasionally turn him down, so now he doesn’t. He always nods enthusiastically and raves about whatever Carlos has made, even if it’s scrambled eggs and toasted bagels, and he loves the way Carlos smiles at him when he does.

In the early evening, TK is relaxing on his couch with his bare feet up on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. Carlos is lying on his side with his head in TK’s lap. They’re watching a documentary about a diver who makes friends with an octopus, and TK thinks Carlos has fallen asleep. It’s just as well; he’s been teary-eyed more than once and it’s maybe still early in their relationship for Carlos to find out how easily TK cries at things like this. He has his hand pushed up under Carlos’s t-shirt, fingers curled around his waist, and the fingers of his other hand are in Carlos’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp. If TK had to guess, he’d think that’s what probably lulled Carlos to sleep, so he doesn’t stop even after Carlos stops moving and his breath evens out.

As the credits are rolling and tears are streaming down TK’s face, Carlos stirs. TK quickly brings a hand up to his face to wipe away the wetness there, so that by the time Carlos wakes and rolls onto his back and blinks up at TK, he can just smile down at him and go back to stroking his hair.

“How long was I out?”

“I’m not sure,” TK says honestly. “A while.”

Carlos huffs a laugh through his nose and covers his face with his hands for a moment, then letting them settle onto his stomach. “I’m worn out.”

“It’s okay.” TK shrugs. “I didn’t mind.”

“How was the movie?”

“Really good. You’ll have to finish it another time.”

Carlos’s eyes narrow a little, searching TK’s face, and he asks, “Have you been crying?”

TK laughs and shakes his head in spite of himself. “Maybe a little. It was very heartfelt.”

Carlos nods and licks his lips. He reaches up, tapping two fingers against TK’s sternum, over his heart. “This is a lot more sensitive than you want people to know, isn’t it?”

TK swallows thickly, swallowing down an instinct to brush it off. “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Carlos agrees. His smile is soft.

#anon asks #magnetic north #paperstorm writes #911 lone star #tarlos

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leiawritesstories · 3 years ago

Text

Improbability

Rowaelin Month, Day 26: You’re seeing my roommate and accidentally walked into my shower. Featuring Sam and Rowan as roommates. :)))

Word count: 1542

Warnings: language, little bit of math gobbledygook that I stole from my stats class.

Enjoy!

~~~~

“Mate, you alright with my girlfriend coming over today?” Sam called out to his roommate. “We’re probably going out, but I asked her over here first.”

Rowan pulled out one of his earbuds and stuck his head out his bedroom door. “Yeah, that’s totally fine, just for God’s sake warn me if you’re going to do the dirty on our couch, bud.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Sam yelled, “and I was 100 percent sure you had football!”

“It’s called soccer, Cortland!” Rowan laughed, never missing the chance to poke at his British roommate.

“Whatever, mate. You’re good with Ae hanging out here for a bit, yeah?”

“Sure am. She’s a fun person.” Rowan put his earbud back in and returned to doing his homework, or rather, swearing at his statistics textbook. Some fifteen minutes later, he heard the door of his and Sam’s dorm open.

“Anybody home?” enquired a throaty female voice. “Someone told me he was at home, but obviously he’s too busy to go out today. Guess I’ll just go drink with the girls, then.”

“And leave me lonely?” Sam asked.

Aelin Galathynius, who’d been dating Sam for almost two years now, smiled. “Never.”

He returned the grin and pulled her into the living room, where their conversation faded into a blur of noise too dim for Rowan to interpret. Not that he minded…much. Aelin was hilarious, though, and he loved hearing her make cracks at Sam’s British habits, her friends, her day, and pretty much anything else she thought deserved a snarky comment.

Slamming his stats book closed, Rowan huffed a sigh and decided that he could use a quick shower to relax a little before heading out to training. He grabbed his towel and a bar of soap and went into the tiny dorm shower, which was low enough that he, at 6’3,” had to crouch to fit under the shower head. Grumbling to himself about the stupidity of whatever idiot architect designed dormitory showers, he stood under the stream of hot water and tried to make sense of all he still had to do. Which was too much. After somewhere around five minutes, he stuck his head out of the shower, realizing the dorm had gone awfully quiet.

Maybe Sam and Aelin were out, then, he thought.

Rowan turned off the shower and reached for his towel, giving himself a quick dry-off before stepping out. He was just wrapping the towel around his waist when the door swept open.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t realize you were in here!” gasped Aelin.

Rowan gaped at her, forgetting that the only thing between her and a prime view of what he may or may not have been doing in the shower was a dark green bath towel.

A too-thin green bath towel.

Aelin’s turquoise eyes traveled down his frame, decidedly not missing a single detail. A pink flush spread over her cheekbones, and she hastily backed out of the bathroom and shut the door with a firm click.

Rowan swallowed whatever he’d thought he might have said and told his raging male hormones to calm the hell down. Quickly, before anyone else could walk in on him, he pulled on his practice jersey and sweats and went back to his room, where he grabbed his soccer bag and hauled ass for the gym.

He spent the entire 90-minute workout trying and miserably failing to get the image of Aelin Galathynius in her unfairly attractive blouse and miniskirt blushing at his nearly-nude self out of his mind. When he got back to his dorm, having showered in the locker room, this time without anyone interrupting, Sam and Aelin were gone. Sam had left a note on his bedroom door, stating that he’d probably be back around three. Checking his watch, Rowan groaned. It was almost two, and he’d broken down and signed up for stats tutoring at four.

He just hoped that whoever the tutor was, they’d be able to help him get his mathematical shit together and pass the course.

Two hours later, Rowan walked into the library and took a seat in the study room marked with a sign that read “STATS 320 TUTORING 4 PM.” Nobody else was there, but to be fair, he was a little early. He plopped his textbook, notebook, and calculator onto the table and waited.

And nearly fell off his chair when Aelin Galathynius walked into the room.

“What the hell?”

“What the hell, what?” she asked, obviously amused at his reaction.

“I--I didn’t expect to see you here, that’s what the hell. You here for tutoring too?”

“Yes and no.” Rowan blinked in confusion. Aelin’s little smirk grew bigger. “I am the tutor, Rowan. You’re here for my assistance…and expertise.” She winked.

He felt himself flush at the image that conjured. “Yeah, expertise, in stats, right?” He knew full well he was stammering like a fourteen-year-old on his first date, but that about summed up how his roommate’s girlfriend made him feel right now.

“Correct.” Just like that, Aelin was all business. She set her backpack down, closed the door, and sat across from Rowan. “So. How can I help?”

He sighed. “I’m stuck. I need this class, it’s the last math I have to take for my major, I’m usually decent at math, and I’m fucking stuck on a concept my professor said was fucking simple.”

Aelin listened to his mini rant without comment. She pulled out her own stats notebook and calculator from her backpack and slipped on a pair of glasses. Rowan cocked his head.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Reading glasses, Whitethorn. I’m supposed to wear them whenever I’m reading, on my laptop, or studying, but do I? Hell no.” She grinned. “Don’t tell my optometrist.”

“Given that I don’t know them, no problem.” He returned her grin.

She flexed her fingers and turned her attention to Rowan’s math. “Right, big bad soccer boy. Where are you stuck?”

He flipped his book to the section on conditional probability distributions. “Here. I took notes, and it seemed logical enough, but I completely tanked the quiz we just had, and I don’t know where I went wrong.”

Aelin scanned the quiz. “You’re reading the graphs wrong.”

“What?”

“Conditional probability is the probability of an event occurring given that a certain condition is satisfied.” She opened her notebook to a blank page and drew a horizontal line. “Any time you see a condition, that condition goes in the denominator.” She pointed to one of the problems he’d answered wrong on the quiz. “What’s this question asking you to determine?”

“Probability that a student chosen at random is an engineer given that the selected student is female.”

“Right. So, you take the condition, the ‘given,’ and put that number in the denominator. Remember you’re only looking at the row labeled ‘female,’ because that’s the condition. Once the condition’s written in, you find the other part of the question, in this case the number of female engineers. Put that number in the numerator, divide by the denominator, and there you have the probability. Does that make sense?”

“Condition in the denominator…” Rowan mumbled, writing it in his notes. He looked up at Aelin and smacked his hand flat on the table. “Aelin, I’m a fucking idiot. I spent so much time trying to look at the totals that I didn’t remember to keep the condition, I--goddammit, I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Rowan, lots of people struggle with conditional probability at first.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. A lot.”

“Really? But you just explained this shit to me better than my professor.”

“I…I happen to like stats. Might be part of my major description, but I just find working with the numbers extremely satisfying.”

“What’s your major?” he asked, intrigued.

“Don’t judge me.”

“Nope. Promise.”

“I’m in finance.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m impressed.”

She blushed. “Thanks. It’s a lot of stats and spreadsheets and yelling at each other about the stock market, but I really love it.”

“You’re making me look bad; I’m just your standard pre-PT student athlete”

“Standard pre-PT student athlete,” she mocked, “don’t sell yourself short, Whitethorn. Pre-PT is nothing shabby.”

“Yeah, but not remembering a stupidly easy math concept sure as hell is.”

She snickered. “Fair enough. Is there anything else I can help you with, or is that all for this session?”

He flipped through his notes. “That’s all I had for today, but I’ll probably be back at some point whining about another tricky concept.”

Aelin grinned, closing her notebook. “Wait until you get into chi-squared models. I’ll be here then, waiting for all the stats students to come crying to me while I plug seventeen equations into my spreadsheet and hope it actually calculates the quarterly interest this time.”

Rowan shook his head. “You lost me at ‘chi-squared,’ Aelin.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s fun.”

“As much fun as you and Sam have?”

Her voice dropped to a sultry purr. “Your couch would know.”

Before he could sputter out a response, she’d shouldered her backpack and was walking out the door. Rowan watched Aelin Galathynius leave, wondering how fast he could make up an excuse to talk to his roommate’s brilliant girlfriend again.

#my writing #rowaelin month #day 26 #college au

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 15

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Missy gives her a skeptical glance as Mulder knocks on the door for an eternity in a strange pattern. She shrugs, then startles when a cacophony of loud pops and clicks erupts from the other side of the door before it swings open to reveal a short man with a receding hairline and bushy sideburns.

“Mulder, ladies, please come in!” he greets warmly, stepping to the side.

Mulder touches his hand to Scully’s lower back, ushering her inside and waiting as Missy follows before he enters last. The short man holds out his hand to Missy and when she takes it, he brings her hand to his lips and kisses the tops of her fingers.

“Enchante, you must be Melissa,” he says suavely, and Missy gives her sister an amused smile. “Melvin Frohike, pleased to meet you,” he finishes, and Missy giggles.

“And you must be the enigmatic Dana Scully,” he says, turning to Scully and offering his hand.

She takes it, but tugs hers away at the first indication that he intends to do more than shake it. Frohike turns to Mulder with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

“She’s hot,” he says matter-of-factly, and Scully looks at Mulder with big eyes, unsure whether he’ll find his friend’s flattery offensive.

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Put a damper on the Don Juan act would ya, Frohike? You’re going to scare them away.”

Frohike presses his hand to his chest in mock sincerity. “I aim only to properly welcome these beautiful women to our home, Mulder,” he defends, then holds up his hands in surrender. “Back to the kitchen I go,” he finishes, leaving the room.

A slender man with long blonde hair and glasses passes through, pausing when he realizes they have company.

“Mulder, hey man. I forgot you were coming by.”

He looks at Missy and Scully but doesn’t say anything.

“Langly, this is Dana, and her sister Melissa,” Mulder offers, and Langly waves, looking back and forth between them.

“So which one’s yours?” he asks, and Mulder mutters something under his breath.

“That would be me,” Scully answers, holding her hand up at her side. For the first time that she can recall, being referred to as belonging to a man doesn’t bother her.

“Cool,” he says, then turns away and sits down behind a computer.

Scully and Missy both look at Mulder expectantly, asking hundreds of questions with their eyes that they are too polite to speak aloud.

“I know, I know,” he says regretfully. “I told you, they grow on you.”

“Mulder, hello,” calls a new voice, and Scully turns to see a tall man in a suit with neatly coiffed brown hair and a matching goatee.

“Hello, ladies, I’m John Fitzgerald Byers,” he says, holding out his hand shaking each of theirs in turn. “I apologize for my friends’ behavior, they don’t get out much. Please, come in, make yourselves at home.”

As Byers leads them to the living room, Scully takes stock of what Mulder had referred to as their “lair.” There’s one large room that is sectioned off into a living area and a tech lab, the latter hosting several computers as well as hundreds of computer parts and boxes upon boxes with wires sticking out of them. There’s a kitchen just off the living room, and beyond that a long hallway that must lead to bedrooms. They sit down on a well-worn orange couch, Scully in the middle, while Byers takes an armchair next to the end of the couch where Missy is seated.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Byers asks, his eyes lingering on Missy for a beat.

“It’s margarita night!” Frohike calls from the kitchen, and Byers smiles meekly.

“We also have beer, or wine, if you don’t care for margaritas,” he offers demurely.

“I love margaritas,” Missy answers with a shrug, “so does Dana, right Sis?” she continues, giving Scully a little jab with her elbow, and Scully smiles and nods.

“Sure, margaritas sound great,” she says, and Byers looks visibly relieved.

“Please excuse me, I’ll be right back,” he says, standing with a slight bow.

After he has disappeared into the kitchen, Missy looks over at Scully and widens her eyes momentarily, then juts out her chin.

“Really?” Scully says with some measure of surprise, and Missy nods enthusiastically.

Mulder chuckles, and Scully looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” she asks accusingly.

“You two have some kind of secret language. You sure you aren’t twins?”

“I remember when Dana was born,” Missy says, “it was awful. We are definitely NOT twins.”

“Missy, you were two when I was born, there’s no way you remember that,” Scully says doubtfully, and Missy rolls her eyes.

“Believe what you will, Sis, but I distinctly recall you crying for hours and Bill Jr. peeing his pants in protest,” she says confidently.

“That does sound like Bill,” Scully concedes, and they both laugh.

“Why do I get the impression that Bill isn’t the favorite sibling?” Mulder asks, and Scully rests her hand on his knee.

“Just be glad he doesn’t live close enough to attend Sunday brunch tomorrow,” she says with a squeeze, “if you’re lucky, you won’t have to meet him for years.”

Mulder smirks at her with soft, affectionate eyes. “Years, huh?” he asks, and Scully smiles as heat rises to her cheeks, realizing what she’d implied.

“Here we are,” Byers says as he re-enters the room carrying a tray with four glasses on it. He sets the tray on the coffee table and passes a glass to each of the sisters and then to Mulder before he takes one himself and sits down.

“What should we drink to?” Missy asks, holding her glass up.

“How about, to new friends,” Byers offers, giving her a small smile.

“To new friends,” Missy repeats, and they clink their glasses together.

———

“A WHAT tail?” Missy asks, her tongue thick with tequila and her eyes glassy.

“A ves- vesigible? Vestibule tail?” Mulder attempts, closing one eye in concentration.

“Vestigial tail,” Scully corrects them, retaining her medical terminology even under the influence of four very strong margaritas.

“Yes, that was it,” Byers says, pointing at her triumphantly.

Frohike drank too much and retired to his bedroom an hour ago, while Langly is still stationed behind his computer, headphones on and seemingly immersed in some kind of first person shooter game. Byers has shed his suit jacket and cuffed his sleeves, his tie loosened around his neck. He long ago joined them on the orange couch where they are now stuffed like sardines, the sisters sandwiched in the middle with a man on each side.

“Caudal appendages are a normal part of fetal development,” Scully says, her head leaning against Mulder’s arm and their hands entwined in his lap. “The coccyx enlarges to contain the spinal fluid and then it shrinks as the child develops. Occasionally it doesn’t. It’s extremely rare, but it’s been known to happen.”

“But that’s not the point,” Mulder retorts, sticking his nose into her hair. “The tail was just how they made the connection, the freaky deaky part is that this guy could change his appearance to look like the women’s husbands so they’d have sex with him.”

“That’s disgusting,” Missy says with a frown, and Byers puts his hand on her upper back, rubbing comfortingly. She looks at him and smiles sweetly.

“I don’t buy that at all,” Scully says, shaking her head clumsily.

“The shapeshifting?” Mulder asks, assuming the answer.

“Well that too, but even just the idea that they didn’t know it wasn’t their husband. They would have known,” she says plainly, it being an obvious fact to her.

“He was physically identical to their husbands, there was no way to tell the difference,” Byers explains, looking at the side of Missy’s face while he talks.

“Well maybe he looked like them, but partnered sex is very routine based,” Scully continues, “if you’re with the same person for a long time, you develop somewhat of a cadence, an order of things, that there’s no way he could have replicated. So even if he was physically identical to the husbands, he would have kissed differently, touched them differently. They would have noticed the difference.”

Mulder sits back against the arm rest so he can see her face more clearly.

“So you’re telling me that if a man who looked exactly like me in every way, physically identical, tried to seduce you, you’d know it wasn’t me?”

Scully gives him an irritated look. “Yes.”

“How?” he asks incredulously.

“Because no one else kisses like you do,” she says at a lower register, hoping Missy and Byers aren’t listening.

Mulder looks past her to the other end of the couch and his eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth curling into an amused smile. Scully turns to see what he’s smiling at and finds that Missy and Byers most definitely were not listening, because they currently have their tongues halfway down each other’s throats. Scully turns back to Mulder with an open-mouthed smile.

“Oh my god,” she gushes, leaning her forehead against his chest.

He wraps his arms around her back and gives her a squeeze.

“I was just about to say we should get outta here,” Mulder whispers against her ear, “but I’d hate to interrupt them. I think this is the most action Byers has gotten in years.”

She stifles her laugh in his T-shirt, then sits up to look at him.

“Is he a good guy?” she questions in a bit of sisterly concern.

“Oh, yes, the best,” Mulder says emphatically. “If it were either of the other two stooges down there I’d pry Missy off of him and transport her to safety, but Byers is good people.”

Scully nods in approval, sneaking another glance towards the lovebirds as Missy’s foot starts to press against her thigh; they seem to be orienting more horizontally by the second. She glances over at Langly, but he’s oblivious.

“Do you think it’s okay if we leave her here?” Mulder asks cautiously, unsure if it’s an obscene suggestion.

Scully looks at her sister again. “Missy, we’re leaving,” she says loudly, and Missy holds up her arm, flicking her wrist in a “go” motion. Scully turns back to Mulder. “She’s fine.”

Mulder lives closer to the Gunmen so they direct the cab driver there, quietly kissing in the backseat on the ten minute drive. She is pleasantly drunk, just this side of sloppy, and feeling particularly amorous after such a fun evening. Mulder stumbles through his front door ahead of her, swearing as he stubs his toe on the table. He feeds Priscilla as Scully removes her shoes and jacket, making her way to the couch. As soon as he sits down beside her, he leans over and presses his boozy lips against hers, the kiss firm and insistent and...weird.

“Mulder,” she says as he continues to plant strange kisses on her mouth, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, moving his pecking down her neck.

“You’re kissing me weird,” she says flatly, and he lifts his head to give her a shocked look.

“Motherfucker,” he says in a disappointed tone, and she shoves his shoulder.

“I told you I would know, jerk,” she says playfully, and he laughs.

“I guess you would,” he says, starting to kiss her more properly.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” she suggests, and he stands, holding his hand out to her.

She leads him into the bedroom, and as she approaches the bed he grabs her roughly from behind, clutching her to him. She gasps at the sudden contact, but it also excites her.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

She nods her head tersely, wanting to see where he’s going to take it.

He growls and sticks his hand down the front of her still-buttoned jeans, forcing his fingers under her panties until he meets with her vulva. Keeping his fingers still, he slips his other hand under her shirt, shoving it under the underwire on her bra and grasping her breast roughly. Her heart is racing but she doesn’t move.

“Unbutton your pants,” he says levelly, and the authoritative tone in his voice sends a little rush between her thighs. She does as he said, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them off her hips while his hand is still tucked against her.

With more room to move, he slips his hand down further and drags his fingers lazily over her lips. She can feel herself growing wet, her clit aching to be touched. He suddenly removes both hands, grabbing the hem of her shirt and tugging it over her head before she’s even had time to lift her arms, her bra soon following it to the floor. He steps forward, pushing her along with him, and then touches her upper back.

“Bend over,” he says, and she does, her torso resting on the mattress while her legs dangle over the side.

She feels him tug her jeans off her legs, and then her panties, leaving her nude. She waits, her heart pounding in her ears nearly blocking out the jangle of his belt buckle and the slide of his zipper. She feels his naked skin press against hers, his erection stiff and hot against her lower back. He leans forward to put his mouth to her ear.

“Still okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says breathily.

She hears the crinkle of the condom wrapper and wriggles her hips in anticipation, nearly moaning when his hands touch her bare hips, tugging her towards him. She feels the slick press of his latex-covered cock against her entrance and bucks back towards him, earning a little chuckle. He pushes into her, each groaning with relief, and wastes no time finding a hard and fast pace, the slap of skin deafening in the quiet apartment. He changes his angle, and she feels his hand snake around her hip, his touch rough and firm and perfectly paired with the strike of his head against her cervix on each upstroke. It hurts just a little bit, but in the best kind of way, and she cries out when he finds just the right combination, begging him not to stop.

A stream of obscenities, foul and offensive remarks about how she feels and looks, what he’s doing to her, pour from his lips and she is concurrently shocked and delighted, finding herself at the crest as he asks her how much she likes it, and calls her some questionable names. She comes hard and suddenly, the obscenities stopping as he explodes inside of her, falling partially on top of her as he loses the strength to stand.

After he’s extricated himself from the bed and disposed of the condom, he pulls her on top of him and peppers her with tender little kisses and gentle strokes of his hands over her naked body, telling her how beautiful and perfect she is, bringing them back to equilibrium. She props her chin on his chest and looks up at him with a wry smile.

“What did you call me?” she asks, and he does a silly cartoonish cringe.

“I’m not totally sure, to be honest. Did I say something bad?” he asks with genuine concern.

“I’m not totally sure, to be honest,” she replies, “I was otherwise engaged.” She smiles at him so he knows she’s not mad. She looks over at the clock beside his bed. “We better go to sleep,” she says, her eyes already drooping. “We have to be at my mother’s at ten tomorrow.”

———

“So, what did you all do last night?” Maggie asks around the lunch table, and Dana chokes on her water while Missy clears her throat.

“I introduced Dana to some of my friends,” Mulder answers jovially, on his best ‘meet the parents’ behavior.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Maggie answers warmly. “Are you from the area, Fox?”

“It’s Mulder, Mom,” Dana corrects her, and he waves his hand dismissively.

“It’s okay, moms get a free pass,” he says, smiling at Maggie. “I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“Ooooo, fancy schmancy,” Charlie remarks with raised eyebrows, and Dana glares at him.

“Do you have any siblings?” Maggie continues.

This is a line of questioning he’s had to navigate since he was twelve, but for Dana it’s a first. She tightens her grip on his hand under the table.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to her before turning back to Maggie. “I had a younger sister, but she died when I was twelve.”

Scully understands that this is probably his stock answer, not wanting to get into the true story with each person he crosses paths with, and feels retroactively touched that he was honest with her from the start.

Maggie’s hand goes to her chest as though reaching for a rosary, her face a mask of pain. “Oh, Fox, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Scully, it was a long time ago.”

Sensing the need for a subject change, Charlie turns to his oldest sister. “What’s up with you, Missy? You’re looking a little rough today.”

She gives him a derisive smile. “Thanks, little brother, love you too. I just didn’t get much sleep, I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Charlie says knowingly, and Missy kicks him under the table.

After the dishes have been cleared, Maggie is pulling the trash bag out of the can when Mulder interjects. “Let me take that out for you, Mrs. Scully.”

She watches him with a soft smile as he goes out the back door, then turns to look at her youngest daughter, who is also watching after him with an affectionate expression.

“Dana,” she calls, and when she has her daughter’s attention, she gives her a beaming smile. They don’t need to say more than that; Dana smiles back with a little nod, and they both understand that she’s found something worth moving on to.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years ago

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when i’m dreaming--calum hood oneshot

yeah so i’m going through something so this is very, very self-indulgent.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: drinking linked a little with coping, going through a depressive low, best friend!calum

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

***

Calum notices something is wrong the minute she steps outside. He was about to take a drink of his white claw, but his eyes went to her nails when she pulled Crystal in for a hug. She typically paints them to match her mood and today they’re opalescent pink, barely noticeable but still there. In plain sight but still visible while she secretly wants to be invisible.

She smiles and cracks jokes with everyone she says hello to then when she steps in front of Calum, he sees the sadness in her eyes. They’ve been best friends for awhile now, they’ve shared secrets, stories of first loves and heartaches, their fears, their wildest dreams. But there was always something she kept hidden, tucked away in a box welded shut.

“Hey bud,” she sighs.

“Hey short stuff,” he grins playfully pulling her in for a hug. Her arms wrap around him and he makes sure to give her an extra tight squeeze.

“I’m not that short,” she grumbles in his chest.

“You’re shorter than me,” he reminds rubbing her shoulder with his thumb. Although her arms are loose around him he can feel the tension in her shoulders that she’s carrying.

“Stop hogging her! I haven’t seen her in weeks!” Ashton exclaims and Calum pulls away.

He knows it was too soon to break the hug but to keep up with her own façade he doubts anyone else sees, he does it.

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared into the desert for all those weeks,” she jokes rising on her toes to loop her arms around Ashton’s neck.

He gives her a big bear hug that lifts her a few inches off the ground, Calum sees her nails digging into her arm as she squeezes him.

“Had to recenter myself, you should try it sometime,” Ashton teases right back. As if she was shocked, she removes herself from the hug then accepts a bottle of Mike’s from Luke.

“I can take something stronger than this, Hemmings,” she takes a large chug regardless.

“Yeah? Like tequila? I got some limes,” he jerks his thumb behind him towards the drink table.

“I said stronger not deadly. You know I can’t handle tequila,” she scrunches her nose.

Everyone else laughs but alarms are going off in Calum’s head.

“Yeah, the floor of my Tesla doesn’t like tequila either,” Michael chimes in with a tray of shots.

“I told you to pull over,” she shrugs lifting up a shot. She takes a whiff and nods in approval at his selected alcohol choice.

“I was going 75 on the freeway!”

“And that’s why I threw up. Ready?” she lifts her glass.

Calum meets her eyes as over the hands of their friends as Ashton gives an impromptu speech about friendship and long rides. He wasn’t really paying attention because when their eyes locked, he saw the panic, he saw the fear of whatever was going on in her head.

The next time he sees her is at the movies. Her eyes are darker along with her nails that are now a hunter’s green; camouflaged but still visible. While they’re waiting in line for snacks, he lifts her hand in his and runs his thumb over the color.

“This is a pretty color, I’ve never seen it on you before,” he says.

“Yeah, um…wanted to try something different,” she shrugs. “Do you want the blue icee?”

“Is that even a question?” he raises a brow, and she laughs.

Once they’re settled in the seats the previews start. Calum opens up the bags of sweet and sour treats while she opens the boxes of milk duds. The large bowl of popcorn (with extra butter) is settled between them, long red straws sticking out of their frozen drinks.

Throughout the whole movie, it’s an action romantic comedy, Calum keeps glancing at her. He watches her fingers disappear in the popcorn bowl, her hunter’s green nails appearing black in the dark theater. Calum’s seen enough movies to know this moment is foreshadowing the darkness she’s slipping into. He’s preparing himself for the fall but he’s not entirely sure she is.

Two weeks have gone by and he hasn’t seen her since the movie. Their schedules didn’t align so he decided to surprise her with takeout from her favorite Asian restaurant and chocolate cake from her favorite bakery.

When he opens the door, he hears Friends playing on her tv and he finds her horizontal on the couch. The hood of her sweatshirt is over her head, her arms wrapped around her torso, her black nails clutching the fabric.

Calum braces himself for what he’s walking into, sets the food on her counter and crouches in front of her. He pulls her hoodie back a little so he can see her face a bit better, her eyes are distant and staring off behind him.

“Hey,” he says softly then touches her hand. It’s very cold. “Y/N.”

Upon hearing her name does she finally look at him. Her eyes have filled and spilled with her tears in a matter of seconds. He links her fingers through his.

“Hi,” she mouths, her voice barely registering.

“Is this about…him?” he asks delicately.

About a year ago he chipped away at the welding on the box. He knows it involves a guy. He knows it’s about bad timing. He knows it’s about deep emotions.

She nods and the tears erupt more. She buries her face in her hands then adds another layer by hiding in the pillow.

“Nope, nope, hey,” he tugs on her arms. She’s pliant and allows him to drag her in a sitting position. He takes the place where her head was then brings her onto his lap. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He murmurs and pulls her hoodie down so he can rub at her hair.

She sobs loudly into his neck. Calum holds her as tight as he can, murmuring comforting words in her ear. Her sobs would subside, but he wouldn’t let go until she did. She’s very good at keeping her emotions at bay and even better at keeping people further away from her harbor. She doesn’t ask for help often, she doesn’t open up too much and when she does it’s always the footnoted version.

Three episodes of Friends later, her hold lessens, she gives a big sniff and peels herself away from Calum. He uses the sleeves of his shirt to wipe at her tears and nose.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and she shakes her head. “I brought food. I’ll heat it up for you.”

She nods and falls back onto the couch. He rubs her knee then heads into the kitchen. When the food is prepared on plates he brings it to her and she takes it, scarfing down the first few bites heartily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally speaks when her plate is empty.

“I know,” he nods looking over at her until she meets his brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

Calum ends up staying the night, his mind reeling from what the history is with this mystery guy. His thoughts get away from him as he stares at the ceiling above the couch. Was he some celebrity that kept her under the radar and broke her heart repeatedly? A Prince from some far-off country that got her hopes up and crushed them again and again?

He’s tossing and turning until he hears the shower turn on. Sad songs play over and over on her speakers, her voice singing along with the yearning words. Ghostin’ by Ariana and When the Party’s Over by Billie replay one after another.

She’s really hurting.

Calum bounds off the couch and opens the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” he makes sure his voice is a little louder than the music.

A sniff. “Yeah?” her voice is thick.

“Just want you to know I’m here,” he shuts the door and sits next to the shower.

His heart aches when he hears her crying again, the vocals echo and bounce off the tiles. Her sadness fills the room just as it’s filled in the hidden box of the guy who’s making her feel this way.

Four more repeats go by and the shower is finally shut off. Calum scrambles off the floor, sees her tug the towel from the door of the shower. Her shadow figure wraps it around herself and she opens the door. Her skin is red from the hot water, as are her eyes and cheeks from crying more tears. He grabs another towel and helps dry her hair while she stands there avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

“It’s been five years, why do I still feel like this?” she asks quietly.

“It hurts the most when it meant something.”

He left the bathroom after he dried and brushed her hair then waited for her in her bedroom. There’s pictures on her desk from high school. Her and some guy at prom. Her and the same guy a little bit older posing in a selfie on a couch, drunken smiles on their faces. Her and the same guy a little older again posed outside.

This must be from that box. She’s cracked it open and Calum is staring at some of the pieces that have broken her wholly.

“His name’s Henry,” she explains suddenly behind him.

Calum turns to her voice. The drastic change from the happy girl in the photos to the sad girl before him startles him. He remains silent to let her speak or to go into silence again. She moves onto her bed, sitting in the center and tucks her legs against her chest.

“We never dated. But we were always…together. Together in the physical sense for four years,” she continues. Calum joins her cautiously on the bed and listens. “Back and forth always. After every relationship we fell back into each other. He’s the longest relationship I’ve had, and it wasn’t even a real one.

“We cared about each other, and…I think he loved me. Time wasn’t on our side. It was too much or too little, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just when I think I’ve let go; I dream of him. Then he’s on my mind for days. And now this time…” she shakes her head and Calum pulls her against him. “I went on socials and I found out that he um…he’s a dad now. And I feel so stupid because that could have been me if we kept what we had. I feel stupid because a part of me wanted it to be me.”

Calum doesn’t fully understand the ins and outs of their relationship, but four years of physical affection and a rock to lean on, that’s a lot of history. He also doesn’t fully understand how this guy didn’t make it official with Y/N. She’s the perfect best friend with a big heart.

Calum wishes he knew her in school because he would have been the one to take her to prom. He would have been the one take her to movies and dinners and surprise her with flowers. He would have made it official rather than keep her guessing.

“I’m really going through it and I don’t know how to get out,” she whispers sadly.

“I think…” Calum heaves a big sigh and kisses her wet head. “I think you’re just cracking the surface of breaking free. I can tell he meant a lot to you and you meant a lot to him. Even if he never said it, you’ll always be a part of him just like he’ll be a part of you. Someone that important won’t just poof away.”

“But I want him to, it hurts.”

“I know it does, sweetheart. I’ll help you in any way I can, okay?”

“You’re so understanding and you’re so good, but I don’t want to cry over another guy when you’re here.”

“That’s what best friends do.”

She turns her head and gazes up at him. He notices the storm in her eyes aren’t as dark, her lips are chapped from the cracking of memories she spilled out.

“Calum, you’re more than my best friend.”

He hears a deeper truth in her statement, and it causes his breathing to quicken. The subtle yet very noticeable flick of her eyes to his lips causes him to react. He gives her a quick peck, but that smallest touch sent an enormous shock through his system.

They settle against her pillows, the kiss wasn’t awkward, but it filled them both with questions. Questions that will be answered at a different time because right now he wants to hear this most vulnerable part of her life. She takes his hand in hers first and plays with his fingers while she talks.

He makes comments and asks questions to try and understand a bit more. Calum kisses her head when her voice starts to shake. Hours go by and the sky starts to lighten, birds are awakening.

“Hey,” she says right as he’s about to fall asleep. They talked all night, but she quieted down about twenty minutes.

“Hm?” he opens his eyes.

“We match.”

He looks down at their intertwined fingers when she taps on his nail. His polish is chipped away from chewing on a hangnail then smiles at the black color. He lifts their hands and kisses their knuckles.

“I feel what you feel.”

“What exactly do you feel?”

“I felt you slipping. I can sense your emotions when no one else can, and I guess I painted my nails subconsciously because I didn’t want you to be alone in the dark,” he explains. She’s quiet for a moment and he thinks she really fell asleep this time.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be this bad again.”

“If you are, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

“Cal?”

“Hmm?” he sighs. It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. He doesn’t want her out of his arms.

“When I’m dreaming tonight it will be of you.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicylftv @notinthesameguey @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @thatscooibaby @suchalonelysunflower @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @littledrummeraussie @sexgodashton @f-mu

#best friend!cal #calum hood oneshot #calum hood angst #calum fluff #calum hood fluff #calum 5sos writing #calum 5sos #5sos writing #calum hood 5sos #calum fic #calum hood fic

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royaltyspeaking · 3 years ago

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Meghan couldn't even go to the spa without getting hate. They turned her into a monster for trying to relax and get her mind off all the abuse. She got hate bcus Harry wants to be a good husband. I feel like the tabloids expected Harry to cheat on Meghan and treat her like trash. 2/2

The courtiers are trash. They have been allowed to run the show for far too long with no one reigning them in.

I was talking to my sister about this, she doesn't like Meghan (not that she really follows her) and thinks she should have just sucked it up. I explained it to her like this: we have all had those jobs that we hate. Jobs that suck the life out of you. Where you go in, try to get your work done but certain people make it highly toxic. You probably haven't done anything to deserve being treated the way you have, but some people are out to get you because of their own insecurity. You are experiencing horizontal violence so you go to HR. They say "sorry, I can't help you. You were the one who wanted to work here, remember?". You say "yes I agreed to this job, but the violence is too much, I'm at my breaking point". Your HR manager says " well, everyone here has experienced that at some point" to such you respond with, "that doesn't make it okay". Your HR manager tells you to suck it up and deal with it. Feeling broken, you go back to your desk and finish out your shift trying to focus on the positives. During your lunch break, you check your phone. Thousands of articles are posted about you every minute despite the fact that you haven't been seen publicly in weeks. You check Instagram, your inbox is full of hateful messages despite the fact that you never post anything. You don't even dare to check Twitter because you know that you are the only thing that people are talking about- breaking down every breath that you take and people accusing you of breaking a workplace rule because you rubbed your eye when you had an eyelash in it and someone caught it on camera. It's all too much so you put your phone down and eat the rest of your lunch staring at the wall. Okay, so now you somehow made it through your day and your shift is over and you need to go to the grocery store. So as you are at the store, someone notices you and starts taking pictures. Within minutes, the photos are all over the internet. Your phone is blowing up with notifications and messages, everyone thinks you are an attention whore because you needed to buy some milk. Feeling horrible and just wanting to get home, you go to the check out. You make the mistake of looking over at the magazines. Your face is on almost all of them. The headlines say that you are difficult. A bully. Everyone hates you. People want your marriage to fail. You finally get up to pay for your milk and as the cashier hands you your change he says "hey, fuck you". Now you are in tears. Unfortunately as you leave the store, there's a photographer outside who captures images of you crying. You make your way home and sit down on your couch and cry. Your cousin is there. She says "hey, it's not so bad, you just need to stop asking for all this attention.". You tell her that you didn't ask for any of it, you just want people to stop lying about you. Being unhelpful she says "we've all been through this, it's not that bad. You're being too sensitive.". She leaves only for more unhelpful family members to come over and tell you the same thing. None of them like you either. Your husband finally gets home and he manages to make you feel slightly better but it's still too much to take. You start to feel like if you weren't here, everything would be better for him. You feel like the world would be better off without you. Still feeling crushed, you lay down to go to sleep. You struggle to fall asleep, your mind focusing on all of the awful things going on. You try to focus on the positives but it's hard. Eventually morning rolls around and your alarm goes off. You sit up, and realize that it's time to do it all again.

The stuff that Meghan went through didn't stop with the press or the courtiers. Meghan literally had no one she could trust but her husband. A toxic workplace is hard enough, but not even being able to feel comfortable in your home life? I don't know how she put up with that for as long as she did

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 4 years ago

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i need more vampire stiles plz 🥺

AND

Anonymous said: Hey! Whenever you get a chance, could you possibly update the Vampire Stiles tag?

Yeah! And here’s the tag.

Get Off the Table by mt_lyfe

(1/1 I 1,060 I Mature I Sterek)

“Last week you wouldn’t even let me snack on the couch. What, do you want me to eat outside on the porch like the savage you think I am? Clearly I’m a second-class citizen.”

The pack has banned Stiles from eating in the kitchen.

I'll Shoot You by 42hrb

(1/1 I 3,629 I Explicit I Chris/Stiles)

In which Stiles in a vampire and Chris Argent has a bit of a weird thing for him.

This Is Hale Pack Territory, Bloodsucker by annapanorama

(5/15 I 6,912 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Stiles is a newly turned vampire. When Derek comes all up in his business because apparently, Beacon Hills is Hale Pack territory (what pack, though?), Stiles does the only thing that seems reasonable: Attach to Derek Hale like a duckling to its mom. Someone needs to teach him how to vampire, all right?

sustain by bleep0bleep

(2/2 I 9,491 I Explicit I Sterek)

Yes, there’s another person in the lab with them, someone who’s heart is beating steadily, sounding achingly familiar somehow, their blood sweet and cloying. Stiles drops the empty bag and rushes forward, because it can’t possibly be— that scent— who he thinks it is—

Joining the Fang Gang by AClosedFicIsNeverRead

(8/? I 16,818 I Not Rated I Sterek)

“SSSSTTTIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLEEEEEESSSS!” Lydia’s wail tore its way from her throat right in the middle of a pack meeting. The warning cry was woeful and terrified, raw in its foreboding. It pierced the veil and brought every were to their knees. The sound was barely dying out and every member of the pack was already scrambling to their feet. Shaken voices overlapped as they rushed the dazed banshee, all asking questions as she struggled to return to herself.

“Where?” “What’s happening?” “Did you see him?”

“I’m calling him now,” Scott announced, struggling to hold his cell in his trembling hands.

“Lydia? Lydia, look at me,” Derek urged, a slight tremor in his voice as he fought to be gentle with her despite his alarm. She blinked through tears and struggled to meet his gaze as he crouched in front of her. “What did you see?”

“Forest… It’s dark… Fangs… Blood… His Dad is screaming for him…” Her lips trembled as she shook her head and gasped, “Oh, God… He’s dying, Derek. I can feel it… It hurts so much… Oh, poor Stiles…”

- OR -

The one where Stiles is turned into a vampire, hides it from the pack, and tries to manage his new 'condition' without them noticing.

The (Horizontal) Monster Mash by taylorpotato

(4/4 I 17,350 I Explicit I Steter)

It figures that, living in Beacon Hills, Stiles would eventually become a creature of the night. But he should have hopped on the werewolf train when Peter offered it, because being a vampire sucks.

Towards the Sun by Xemichal

(3/? I 21,581 I Not Rated I Sterek)

After one last hurrah celebrating college graduation with his best friends, Stiles Stilinski wakes up covered in blood in the middle of the woods. A hangover might have been preferred.

One Stupid Mistake that Changes Everything by Kikileduc

(13/13 I 60,447 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Shortly after the events of season 3b, everyone is recovering. Stiles feels guilty over the loss of Allison and Aiden. Scott can't look at his friend. Lydia isn't talking to him. Isaac, Ethan, Malia, and Kira are all dealing in their own way. Derek took off again.

Fast forward to two months later, things are much the same for Stiles, except his father insisted he get checked out again as the nogitsune had tampered with his son's tests...

The results aren't good.

Stiles returns to school to find the pack hovering around a de-aged and cluesless Derek and suddenly finds himself on the outside of the pack's happenings.

To top it all off his new doctor is a little— weird, to say the least.

Can Stiles figure out what happened to Derek and help reverse it while dealing with his own personal issues? How will the pack feel when they need the spastic teen, only to find him missing? And, what is really going on in Beacon Hills? Can they come together and solve the mystery in time???

Crimson Poison by SterekOTP1

(11/? I 65,362 I Explicit I Sterek)

"A man chooses his own poison. I’ve chosen you. And it’s the sweetest bloody thing."

We Run the Night by devouringdarkness

(28/28 I 89,150 I Explicit I Sterek)

In a world where the likelihood of vampires and werewolves getting along is zero to none; Stiles has to learn how to navigate his coven through Beacon Hills and their werewolf pack. With his loyalty and future in the coven on the line will he be able to do all that his Sire wants while trying to ignore his feelings for one of the wolves?

A Symphony Made In Red by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

(27/27 I 89,461 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles and Lydia had been attacked the night of their graduation party. Now, they were something else. Something that craved deeply and painfully. Taking no other choice, they ran. Less they hurt those closest to them. Shame that they happened to run straight into a den full of werewolves.

Changes by EchoingDayDreams

(28/? I 93,866 I Teen I Sterek)

“… I never even thought it was possible for it to be something… human.”

“Yeah well. You know me…” Stiles replied sarcastically.

“Yeah, ‘Team Human’ right?” Scott asked, a soft smile crossing his face.

Stiles grimaced.

-----------

Stiles returns to Beacon Hills after being missing for two years, following his traumatic and secret transformation into a vampire. Fearful of what his friends and family will think, he hides his new nature behind the guise of addiction, attempting to gain back some sense of his humanity, and to rekindle his relationships within the Pack. He is helped along the way by a new friend, Adeleide, an age-old witch, and her companion, Nuit. Struggling with guilt, loneliness and the desire to change, Stiles faces old and new enemies along the way to redemption. But what happens when his secret is eventually revealed, Derek returns after leaving him so many years ago, and a whole new threat is imposed on Beacon Hills?

#teen wolf #sterek #steter #stiles stilinski #derek hale #peter hale #vampire!stiles #anon

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years ago

Text

Bogotá Kiss

Prologue: There Was a Boy

Summary/Author’s Note: Javier Peña had finally gotten his life together. He was a newlywed, back in the states with his bride, and starting his new life free of Escobar and the world of the cartels. That is until he found his wife in bed with another man. On a path of self destruction, he goes back to Bogota, reclaims his job with the DEA, his partner Steve Murphy, and throws himself into his work, cheap whiskey, and the company of his...informants.

You are a singer in the hottest burlesque club in Columbia. Pulling yourself out of poverty and into a world where men throw money at your feet, buy you diamonds, and pay untold amounts for your services. You don’t mind that the club’s biggest source of income is smuggling diamonds from the necks, wrists, and ears of its prostitutes and into the pockets of their buyers, until a handsome DEA agent gets too close and figures out the scheme.

**IMPORTANT: For those familiar with Moulin Rouge--The reader will NOT die at the end. Fuck that. Let Javi be happy god dammit.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (Moulin Rouge/French Kiss AU) Word Count: 1.6k (its just a prologue, the next chapter will be better) Warnings (for entire fic): NC-17/18+ - Language, sex, prostitution, mentions/implied R*pe (nothing will ever be described in detail or used as a plot device), typical canon violence for NARCOS, shooting, attempted murder, drug use, blackmail, hurt/comfort, lies and betrayal, happy ending

[MASTERLIST]

"It's not what it looks like."

People didn't actually say that line, did they? And worse yet, no one actually would possibly believe it. Right? The words fell from her lips and suddenly Javier Peña felt like he was watching a movie about someone else's life. A cliché of a film in which the idiot of a husband walked in on his wife bouncing on the dick of another man. He was that idiot, and as she scrambled off the lap of the stranger and called his name, he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for an explanation. Queue the laugh track or cut to the scene of him walking in the rain to somber music.

Only this wasn't a movie. There would be no comedic relief, just a lot of heartache, wasted time and money. He had always had a bad habit of falling for the wrong girl. He would see himself mirrored in the eyes of the broken, the depressed, the ones who, much like him, just seemed unable to catch a break in life. But instead of getting a kindred spirit to share his world with, he usually just got a lot of baggage and a quick lay.

He packed a bag, not giving a shit about any of his worldly possessions, and found himself at the Dallas airport, sitting at the bar and waiting for his gate number to be called.

He raised two fingers, letting the bartender know he wanted a fucking double, as he held his cellphone to his ear and listened to it ring. The boxy phone didn't fit comfortably against his shoulder and he dropped it just as the other end picked up and Steve's voice came through.

"Murphy."

"Fuck. Shit." Javier fumbled the phone and held it back against his face.

"Javi?"

"Yeah, it's me." Javier sighed as he picked up his whiskey and tossed it back with a mild wince. "I'm on my way back."

"I heard." Steve paused. "Carolyn called. I told her I didn't know where you were."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it."

"I talked to Noonan. She said your job's still open. You can have it and the keys to your apartment."

They both paused for an extended period of time. Javier ordered another shot of whiskey and Steve breathed quietly on the other end of the phone. Neither one of them had to say out loud what they both already knew. Javier had fallen for the wrong girl, again. His heart was broken and he wanted to drown out the ache he was feeling in cheap booze, a carton of Marlboro, and expensive pussy.

"I'll pick you up from the airport. Safe trip, Jav."

"Thanks, Murph."

Javier pressed the button on the phone and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. It was all smooth sailing from here. He was on his way back to normalcy, back to doing what he did best, hunting Narcos and not having any emotional ties to anything that mattered.

The car ride from the airport had been quiet for the most part but Javier could tell that Steve was just dying to ask. So, when they parked in front of the apartment and neither one of them moved, he dug his smokes out of his jacket pocket and rolled down the window. He flicked his silver lighter to life and inhaled deeply as Steve shut off the engine.

"Go ahead. Ask."

Steve sighed and looked at his friend. "What happened, man?"

"I let it go too far, like an idiot. And she couldn't even wait until the honeymoon was over before she tripped and landed on some other man's dick." He inhaled deeply and ran his thumb along his mustache.

"Shit. I'm sorry--"

"Don't," Javier cut him off and shook his head. "Okay? Don't."

"You file for divorce?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lawyer is drawing everything up now so we can sign it."

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm sorry, Javi. You seemed happy." Steve looked at him and Javier flicked his cigarette out of the window.

"Yeah, I know." He took another long drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Tell Connie I said ‘hi’, okay?”

With a mumbled thanks for the ride and a couple of quick 'see you tomorrows', he opened the car door and grabbed his suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the stairs and into the apartment building. He went through the motions of coming back to this place that he knew quite well, as he went downstairs and stuck his keys in the door without needing to turn on a light.

He tossed his keys on the side table and kicked the door shut gently as he dropped his shoulder bag and looked around. The only furniture that the place had was the old embassy supplied leather couch, scuffed up coffee table, and bar stools against the kitchen counter. Fuck. That settled what he would be doing tomorrow, getting all his furniture out of storage and having the embassy replace what he didn’t have.

Before tossing his leather jacket on the back of the couch, he got out another cigarette and let it bob between his lips as he mumbled to himself. He inhaled deeply and tossed his lighter next to his keys before making his way to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he didn’t know if he wanted to run upstairs and kiss her, or if he wanted to clutch his chest and cry.

The entire appliance was completely bare and wiped out, the light making the white shelves look entirely too bright, but sitting in the middle of the top shelf was a covered casserole of some kind and a bottle of whiskey. A note was taped to the tin foil that read:

“Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Please eat something while you drink this. -- love, Connie.”

At least Steve knew how to pick a woman, because that’s exactly what Connie was, one hell of a woman. Javier grabbed the bottle of liquor and mentally promised Connie that he would eat later. He wasn’t hungry. He really hadn’t been hungry for the last few days, and as he looked at the whiskey and cracked the seal on the lid, he didn’t mourn that the kitchen didn’t have any glasses. He was well beyond the need for a glass.

He took the bottle to the couch, kicked off his boots and plopped down heavily. The whiskey was a familiar burn down his throat and he felt it all the way to his belly. Warm, inviting, and just what he needed. Another drink was followed by a long drag of his cigarette before he kick backed and muttered, “Home, sweet, home,” to a cold, empty house.

The banging on the door permeated his skull in a way that he didn’t think was possible. But then again it had been a long time since he had been this hungover. He rolled over on the leather couch and shoved his face into the cushions and prayed that whoever wanted him would just go away. There was no one on this green earth that he wanted to speak to.

He must have fallen back asleep briefly because the next thing he knew, his partner had let himself into his apartment with his spare key and was nudging his leg that was hanging off the side of the couch.

“Javi,” Steve said as he plucked the empty liquor bottle from under his friend’s arm. “Javi!”

“Is too early,” Javier mumbled into the leather of the sofa.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon.” Steve said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “I told Noonan you were taking the weekend to unpack--” Steve looked around the apartment and then back to the horizontal man. “Looks like you’re done.”

“Fuck you.”

Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Come on. You need a shower. I’d offer to buy you a drink but you smell like you’ve got that taken care of. So, how about a lap dance? There’s this new place on the other side of town--got your name written all over it.”

“Go away.”

Steve, rubbed his hand down his face and glared at the shell of the man that he had gotten to know over the last couple of years. The day Javier Peña turned down a lap dance, it would have been a cold day in hell and yet the evidence was right there in front of him. Someone needed to tell the devil to go check his thermostat.

“Mmkay.” Steve said sharply and took the empty bottle over to the sink and filled it about half way with tap water. When he dumped it on top of Javier’s head, the way the dark-haired man sputtered and sat straight up brought him more joy than it probably should have. “Good morning!”

“F-fucking hillbilly,” Javier cursed as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face.

“Get your ass in the shower and I won’t tell Con that you didn’t eat her food she left you.” When his friend paused long enough to lower his shirt and glare at him, Steve continued. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Javi.”

The two men stood at odds of one another, but the blond refused to relent. Javier shoved his now soaking wet hair back from where it was plastered to his face and nodded. He stood with a groan and gave Steve his middle finger as he trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Missed you, too, bud!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth in a mock yell after the other man’s retreating form. It was going to be a long road to getting his partner back to his usual self, but the natural place to start was with some no-strings-attached pussy.

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hopeisour4letteredword · 4 years ago

Text

with friends like these

Summary: Apollo gets his wisdom teeth out, and Clay babysits.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

"Apollo, buddy. Buddy. You gotta lie back down."

Apollo blinks owlishly at Clay, swaying in place in the middle of the kitchen. God, Clay would feel better if he at least had the sense to lean against the counter. "But I want coffee."

"No coffee for you," Clay says, forcing himself to be stern despite the dreading anticipation of the way Apollo's expression falls, comically sad. AJ always looks younger than he is, as a big brave twenty-year-old, but the sad little pout while he's out of his mind on painkillers, cheeks swollen from surgery? He looks like he's twelve. Adorable. Clay feels bad for him, he really does—he got his own wisdom teeth out last year and he remembers how much it sucked—but the little baby pout just makes him want to smile. "You'll wind yourself up something good, sunshine."

"It's not that much caffeine," Apollo tries to say, even as he lets Clay catch him by the arm and pull him, stumbling, out of the kitchenette. "An' it would make me feel more awake."

"You don't need to feel more awake, you need to rest."

"But I've got stuff to do," Apollo says, mournfully. Clay manages to wrangle him back over to the couch and nudge him back down onto the cushions. Apollo makes doe eyes up at him while Clay grabs the nearest blanket to wrap around his shoulders. "I gotta work on my readings—"

"It's winter break, you don't have readings."

"But next semester."

"You don't have any advance readings yet. You checked and told me so before the surgery."

"I have to stay ahead," Apollo says. His eyelids droop. "I gotta be good at my classes so I can be a good lawyer."

"You're gonna be a great lawyer. But you aren't a lawyer yet, and you don't have any classes right now, so just take it easy, okay?"

Apollo opens his eyes again to peer back up at Clay. "My mouth hurts."

"I know. Sorry, buddy. Not time for more painkillers yet. You want me to grab you the ice pack again? Get the rest of your shake?"

Apollo nods, still looking glum. Clay dutifully returns to the kitchen to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer, which he wraps in a kitchen towel, and the rest of Apollo's post-surgery chocolate shake out of the fridge. When he gets back out to the living room, Apollo has toppled over to be horizontal on the couch. Clay puts the necessities down on the coffee table and scoops Apollo's legs up onto the couch so he isn't twisted all funny. The last thing the poor thing needs is unnecessary strain making him uncomfortable. He ruffles Apollo's hair. Apollo leans into the touch. Aww.

"Anything else I can grab you?"

"Can you sit with me? I wanna watch you play games."

"Aw, sure. What do you wanna watch?"

"I dunno. Anything's fine."

"Let's play some Odyssey, then. I'll go grab the Switch."

Apollo brightens, just like Clay thought he would. He always did like playing on Clay's Switch when they were kids. Even for Clay, it's hard not to be transported back to sleepovers, hushed giggles as they tried not to tip Clay's dad off that they were staying up late while they played games under the covers, whenever he picks it back up to replay something. He knows the memories are even more precious to Apollo, who spent so much of his adolescence struggling through foster system bullshit.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, sit tight."

When Clay comes back, Apollo has propped himself up enough to try to drink more of his shake. It dribbles out of his mouth.

"Oh, man. You got a little, uh—"

Apollo looks frustrated. "Did I miss again? I still can't feel my lower lip."

"Yeah, no, it's, um—you're fine, just let me—" Clay grabs a tissue off the box on the coffee table and wipes Apollo's face. "There you go."

"Thanks," Apollo says. He smiles, wobbly but true. "You're the best."

"No problem, sunshine," Clay says, smiling. He moves around the room, getting the Switch hooked up to the port so it will show up on the TV, before he lifts Apollo's upper body out of the way so he can slide onto the couch with him. Apollo's head ends up propped on his thigh. He helps Apollo adjust himself so there's no pressure on his cheeks, and he can easily hold the ice packs in place while seeing the screen. "Here we go."

"Let's-a go," Apollo says, in a terrible Mario impression. Clay barks out a laugh and starts the game.

"Goofball."

They don't get very far into the game before Clay is pretty sure Apollo starts to doze beside him. His breathing evens out and his weight goes limp. That's fine. He's warm and cozy, and Clay likes being someone he feels comfortable enough with to sleep around. If this is helping him feel a little better while he's in pain, Clay's satisfied. It's not like it's a hardship to sit here and play video games and be his pillow.

But the fact that he thinks Apollo's mostly asleep does mean Clay almost gets the shit scared out of him when Apollo says, suddenly, "Clay."

"Jesus!" Clay fumbles a jump and Mario goes plummeting to his doom. Oops.

"Yes, hello, hi. I thought you were napping, buddy. What's up?"

"You know you're my best friend, right?"

"Yeah? Of course."

"You know?" Apollo rolls so he's mostly on his back, looking up at Clay with big, sad doe eyes again. Clay stares back down at him, befuddled. Of course he knows. "Cause I—I know I'm kinda bitchy sometimes—"

"Aw, Apollo—"

"An' I can't help you with your smart science stuff a lot—"

"That's not—"

"An' I get really anxious and you have to babysit me sometimes an' I yell at you for it—"

"Apollo—"

"But you're really important to me and it would suck if you didn't know just 'cause I'm stupid."

"You aren't stupid," Clay says. He ruffles Apollo's hair again. Apollo's eyes slide closed, lips tugging back into the miserable little pout. "I know I'm your best friend. You're plenty nice to me. Just 'cause you're a little prickly when you're stressed doesn't mean you don't make it obvious that you care about people."

Apollo sniffles. Oh, no. Case in point, though.

"And you don't have to worry about not helping me with science stuff," Clay adds. "I know I'm not that helpful with your law stuff, either. You're way better at helping me review than I am at helping you review."

At least that makes Apollo smile a little. "Jus' easier to read formulas off notecards than legal definitions."

"You can say that again." Clay will take astrophysics over civil law any day. "Besides, you're the best hype-man I could hope for. Who else is gonna get me super pumped to go to space even though it scares the piss out of you?"

"It's so high up," Apollo whines, making Clay cackle. He never thinks about fear of heights as an issue with spaceflight until Apollo mentions it. "An' there's the whole vacuum and no air and you're just going in a tin can—"

"Don't talk about my girl Hattie like that, she's perfect."

"An' even Mr. Starbuck is nervous about it."

"And you help Sol get psyched for it too," Clay says. He pats Apollo gently on the shoulder. "Which is exactly what I'm talking about."

Apollo sighs.

"I know we're best friends, sunshine," Clay adds, more gently. "Come on. You think I would agree to live with you if I didn't know you liked me? I bet you could pull some real passive-aggressive roommate pranks if you wanted to."

Apollo huffs out a tiny laugh. "Maybe."

"There we go. We're fine, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Say it with me. We're fine."

"We're fine."

"You're Apollo Justice and you're fine."

"I'm fine!"

"That's my boy." Mario has fallen asleep standing up on-screen. Clay is considering whether or not he should keep playing or encourage Apollo to go take a real nap when Apollo shifts beside him. Clay lifts his arms out of the way on instinct, holding the controller aloft, when Apollo braces himself on shaky arms to turn and crawl the rest of the way over to plop himself down in Clay's lap. "Wh-oa, buddy. Hi there. You want cuddles?"

"Yeah," Apollo mumbles. He drops his head onto Clay's shoulder. Clay carefully shifts his weight and settles down against the back of the couch, letting it take both of their weight. He doesn't think of Apollo as a big guy, because he's not, but geez. A whole adult human does kind of weigh a lot. Good thing Clay's been beefing up for his training. "Are you at the moon yet?"

"Nope. Only at the gardens. It hasn't been that long."

"You're gonna get to the moon someday," Apollo says, with loopy certainty. Clay almost bites down on a grin before he remembers that Apollo can't see him anymore and he can smile as much as he wants, safe from scrutiny. "You're gonna be a kickass astronaut."

"Aw, thanks, bud."

"You're really smart. And good at solving problems."

"Flatterer," Clay says, grin spreading wider. God, he wishes he'd thought to grab his phone and start recording this. Yeah, he does know he's Apollo's best friend and Apollo loves him and all that, but he sure as hell doesn't get this mushy often. It's really cute.

"You deserve it. You're the best friend in the world, Clay," Apollo declares, and promptly passes out on Clay's shoulder.

---

"Anyway," Clay finishes. He knocks back the rest of his mocha. "That's what AJ was like when he got his wisdom teeth out, so like I said. Don't be too embarrassed about it."

Klavier is laughing so hard he's almost crying, a hand slapped over his mouth to muffle the sound of it. Apollo's in the kitchen right now, cooking the three of them brunch. Hopefully the sizzle of frying eggs and sausage covers the sound of Clay's indiscretions out in the living room. Clay's dead meat if it doesn't.

"He never mentioned," Klavier manages to get out, when he finally gets himself under control. "How cute."

"It was pretty great," Clay says, fondly. "But please don't tell him I told you about that. I don't want to die before I make it to the moon, and he will actually kill me for realsies."

"Your secret is safe with me." Klavier props his chin on his hand, grinning. "Has he ever gotten quite so affectionate other times?"

"If he's drunk enough, yeah."

"I'll have to keep it in mind, then."

"S'why I told you," Clay says. He considers the sly, affectionate curl of Klavier's smile for a second before he adds, "But don't bully him too hard afterwards, or you will lose drunk Apollo privileges. Only moderate mortification allowed."

"Would he be taking the privileges away or would you?"

Clay lets his own smile go sharper. He likes Klavier just fine, and he doesn't really believe he'd be that mean to Apollo, but... well, Apollo's Clay's best friend, too. He has obligations if Apollo's boyfriend is an asshole to him. "Fuck around and find out."

"Fair enough, Herr Astronaut," Klavier says. There's a clatter of plates in the kitchen as the sizzling dies down.

"Food's ready!" Apollo hollers. Clay casts Klavier a glance; Klavier mimes zipping his lips, winking. They both push away from the table to wander into the kitchen. Apollo bustles around fixing a plate of food, a pile of hashbrowns and sausage and eggs. Klavier creeps up behind him and puts his hands over Apollo's hips. Apollo startles, almost knocking him away. His cheeks go pink.

"What do you think you're doing? Clay's literally right there."

"Don't mind me," Clay says, cheerfully. He loves having ammunition to give Apollo hell over later.

"I think he already has an inkling that we're dating, Liebling," Klavier murmurs. He leans down to kiss the top of Apollo's head. Apollo gently elbows him in the gut, pushing Klavier away as his cheeks go even redder.

"Yeah, and he's already insufferable enough about it without you hanging off me in front of him. Come on, back off."

Klavier obligingly steps back. He and Clay begin to fix their own plates. Hovering nearby, Apollo asks, suspiciously, "What were you two gossiping about out there, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing," Clay says. He smiles sweetly when Apollo narrows his eyes at him. "By the way, AJ?"

"What?"

"You're the best friend in the world."

#klapollo #clay terran #apollo justice #klavier gavin #ace attorney #not art #long post

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patriciasage · 4 years ago

Text

imposter syndrome

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Amnesty

Summary:

“Yeah,” Duck laughs, “I just… We gotta put a pause on this, man. That abomination’s out there and I need to get back to –” He’s cut off by Indrid’s mouth on his again. This time he feels a flutter of unease in his chest. Indrid is acting strange.

Most people interrupt Duck during his disfluencies, trying to finish his sentence for him or change the subject. But ever since Duck told him about his discomfort with that, Indrid waits patiently for him to finish his scattered thoughts, head tilted to the side and expression soft. It isn’t like him to interrupt. And even though it’s really nice to finally kiss his crush, something doesn’t feel right.

And then the Mothman crashes through Duck’s living room window.

posted in full below the break but you can find me on A03!

There’s a knock on his door.

Duck nearly trips over Lucy on his way to answer it. She makes a grumbly little meow, and he grumbles right back at her as he regains his balance. “Dammit, Luce.” She scurries to the bedroom when he unlatches the door.

Standing on his front step is Indrid Cold. He’s wearing his regular outfit of jeans and a tank top, and he’s shivering a little in the spring air. “Hello, Duck Newton,” he says with an unnerving smile.

Duck grins back. “Indrid! God, it’s good to see you. I was- Hell, I was worried about you.”

Indrid adjusts his glasses and rubs his arm, flustered. Duck looks up at him and tries not to think about how cute he is. They don’t have time for that. “Come in.”

When Duck turns around, Indrid has closed the door and moved close into Duck’s space. “Oh, um, listen, Indrid,” Duck says, trying to stop the blush in his cheeks at the proximity. “I’m real sorry for, y’know, punchin’ you in the face…”

“All is forgiven, Duck,” Indrid replies with a smile. “You saved my life.”

Duck tries to keep his eyes forward, staring at Indrid’s chin, because whenever he looks up at the other man all he can think about is kissing him. They had spent a significant amount of time together during the last hunt and, although the Silf is a little strange, Duck knows flirting when he sees it. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of someone’s interest like this often, and it was a bit of a thrill to flirt back and let the Winnebago settle with a warm, mutual attraction. But they don’t have time for that right now.

“Listen, man, a lot has happened since you flew away. We got an abomination on the loose that’s real smart and real scary; it can –”

Indrid interrupts him. “I know.”

“Right. ‘Course, you do.” Duck chances a glance up at the other man and sees his own flustered, red reflection staring back at him. “It’s a little fucked up, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how we’re gonna –”

“Duck.” The ranger jumps when Indrid places a cold hand on the back of his neck. “I missed you.”

“Well, yeah, I- uh,” Duck stutters, “I missed…missed you, too.” The taller man smiles. “But Indrid, we need to –”

And then Indrid kisses him.

Duck kisses back without thinking. It’s been a while since he’s had any romantic contact, but he’s been daydreaming about this for quite a few months and insecurity doesn’t have the chance to take purchase. He places his hands on Indrid’s narrow hips and the other man hums before burying his hands in Duck’s hair. Indrid kisses him like he’s trying to consume him. Duck stumbles back a little at the ferocity and breaks for a breath.

“Woah. Yeah, alright. Right. I mean, this is… I been wantin’ this for a while.”

Indrid grins. “I know.”

And then the Mothman crashes through Duck’s living room window.

The three of them stare at each other for a stunned moment. Duck’s brain rushes to make sense of the situation – the paradoxical presence of the man whose hips he’s holding and the hulking, unsettling monster standing on shattered glass in the carpet. “What the fuck?”

Duck takes a step back out of Indrid’s embrace. The uncertainty in his chest becomes drenched in horror as he understands. But he doesn’t have the time to react. Everyone moves at once.

Indrid’s left hand morphs and turns into a sharp, flesh-coloured blade. The Mothman charges forward, knocking some model ships off of nearby shelves with his wings. Duck twists and falls back onto his couch in an attempt to escape.

Duck feels a burning pain in his side and his back hits the cushions. The Mothman crashes into Indrid and they both fall onto the coffee table. It breaks under their weight. Duck scrambles to grab Beacon at his belt, but the movement makes his side flare up and he lets out a shout. The Mothman’s huge red eyes meet his, but this gives the creature underneath it an opportunity. The abomination, its skin shifting as it struggles to maintain Indrid’s form, pushes up into the Mothman’s furry chest with ferocity. The Mothman lands on its wings with a grunt.

Even with its bestial facial features, Duck can tell the Mothman is surprised at the abomination’s strength and speed. The abomination is escaping out the broken window before Duck can draw his sword and before the Mothman can right itself.

They’re frozen for a moment, trapped in the sudden silence. Duck reaches across his body and places his hand on his right side. There’s warm blood soaking into his shirt and the fabric of his couch. “Fuck.” He grimaces. He breathes through the pain before looking back at the looming, dark creature shaking out its wings. “Indrid?”

The Mothman nods vigorously. “Yes!” It reaches a clawed hand into a pouch hanging off of a belt at its waist and retrieves a pair of large, red sunglasses. It quickly puts them on and the huge form of the Mothman turns into Indrid Cold. He’s wearing faded jeans, a bulky sweater, and an expression of guilty concern. “I’m so sorry, Duck. I flew as fast as I could.” He rushes forward and his hands flutter from Duck’s cheek to his shoulder and then a few inches over the wound on his ribs.

“Your hair’s longer,” Duck says.

Indrid’s hands stop moving and he just looks at him for a moment. “Yeah.”

Duck swallows, mouth dry. “Looks nice.”

“Thanks, Duck. Listen, you’re bleeding all over your fucking couch. Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?” Duck teases.

Indrid shakes his head in frustration, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He gently moves a strand of Duck’s hair behind his ear. “You know it doesn’t work like that.” He stands up and rushes to the ensuite bathroom. Duck smiles when he hears him say hello to Lucy before rifling through the cupboard.

“Then how come you found it without me telling you?” He calls out.

“I don’t have time for your shit, Duck Newton. I looked into the possible futures where you weren’t being difficult and just told me where it was!” This is, without a doubt, the real Indrid Cold. Talking to him feels natural, like it did months ago, not the strange, charged conversation with the imposter a few minutes ago. Even though he’s in a lot of pain and he’s going to have to replace his couch and his window, Duck feels calm and happy. And he might be going into shock…just a little bit.

Indrid returns with the first aid kit in his hands and a towel under his arm. “This isn’t really my area of expertise, so you’re going to have to assist me a little,” he admits. He nudges some pieces of wood away with his foot before kneeling on the carpet in between Duck’s knees. He places the items down on the couch and gestures. “Take your shirt off, please.”

Duck can’t help but blush at the sight of Indrid on his knees in front of him. He reaches for the hem of his shirt and raises it a bit before the pain of the movement stops him. He lets out a strangled cry at the same time that Indrid’s cold hands grasp his wrists. “Sorry! Sorry, Duck. I should be paying more attention. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. Here.” Indrid begins to lift the hem before he stops, eyebrows furrowed. Instead, he reaches for the first aid kit.

Duck gives him a questioning look when he lifts a pair of fabric scissors. “Really?”

Indrid shrugs. “It’s going to hurt you to lift your arms.” He pauses, watching Duck’s face carefully. “Is this okay, Duck? Tell me how I can make you more comfortable.” Duck feels a warmth in his chest. This is the considerate Indrid he knows.

“Yeah, ‘s’fine, go ahead.” Duck feels his face heat even more, this time from embarrassment, as Indrid carefully cuts through his T-shirt and pulls the fabric away from his body. Indrid, usually perpetually distracted, is intensely focused on the task. Duck can’t stop thinking about how his position – slumped on the couch cushions – doesn’t do his body any favours. He knows that Indrid is focused on the bleeding wound on his side, not his stomach curling over his belt, but it doesn’t stop Duck from closing his eyes.

“Duck?” Indrid is looking at his face now. “What do I do now?”

“Right.” Duck takes a breath and harshly reminds himself that he’s forty-two, not fourteen. Still, he grits his teeth and attempts to straighten his posture. He gets a good look at the wound for the first time. It’s bleeding a lot but it’s not too deep. The abomination had obviously intended to stab him in the stomach, but Duck had twisted away, causing the weapon to slice a horizontal line through the skin over his ribs. “God, that was a close call, wasn’t it?”

Indrid doesn’t respond. Duck places the folded hand towel over the wound and presses down. When he turns back to his companion, Indrid is staring at the center of his chest. His lips are pressed into a thin line and he’s breathing hard. “Indrid?”

“It was a close call, Duck Newton.” He harshly wipes his eyes under the glasses. “There were so many futures where I wasn’t fast enough, and I watched it impale you. There were so many futures where I didn’t come at all and it killed you in other, horrible ways. And it killed you wearing my face, Duck –”

Duck leans forward, even though it hurts, and places his free hand on Indrid’s shoulder. “Hey, woah, slow down, man. You made it. I’m alright.”

Suddenly, Indrid looks furious. “And it kissed you.”

For a second, Duck feels a surge of shame, but he pushes it away. The abomination obviously has access to memories that give it accuracy in appearance and behaviour. He couldn’t have known. “I’m, uh…yeah. That musta been weird for you to see.”

“Yeah, it was weird, Duck.” Indrid’s hands tighten on Duck’s knees, seemingly without intention. “It was weird because I’ve wanted to kiss you for months. I think you’re the bravest, kindest, most handsome man I’ve ever met. And you kissed him back. You kissed him back because you also want to kiss me. And I’m so fucking mad that it took that from you – that it took that from me!”

Duck is stunned into silence. Indrid has always been a very honest man, but Duck wasn’t prepared for such an emotional confession and confirmation. He finds his voice. “I still want you to kiss me.”

“What?”

“It didn’t take anything, Indrid. I want you to kiss me. For real. The real you. I still want that.”

Indrid leans forward, bracketed by Duck’s legs. He places both hands on Duck’s stubbled cheeks. “Are you sure?”

Duck nods. “Yeah.”

Indrid kisses him with tenderness and care, almost reverence. If Duck had been standing, his knees would be weak. Indrid’s lips are slightly chapped. His thumb slowly caresses Duck’s cheekbone. The abomination had known a lot about Indrid Cold, but it got so many things wrong. It had kissed Duck like it wanted to consume him. Indrid kisses Duck like he’s giving himself over. He kisses Duck like he’s precious, like he wants to keep him safe.

Duck wants to pull him closer, hold onto his back, but in that moment he becomes aware of his own hand pressing a towel to the wound on his abdomen. Regretfully, and very slowly, he pulls away. “Let’s bandage me up and then we can keep doin’ this, alright?”

Indrid shakes himself. “Yes, of course. You’re hurt. What am I doing?”

“What I asked you to.” Duck replies, somehow both stern and coy. He’s satisfied when Indrid’s expression softens.

They patch him up well enough to stop the bleeding. Indrid retrieves a button-up shirt from the closet so that he doesn’t have to raise his arms. Duck catches him staring, eyes lingering appreciatively on his chest and stomach before they’re covered up by closed buttons. Duck blushes again, pleased.

This abomination is terrifying. It’s lodged itself in the heart of Kepler and Duck isn’t sure how they’re going to get it out without disturbing the peace. It feels like it’s a catalyst for something bigger, something they’re not ready for.

But Indrid’s back. And Indrid kissed him. And sometimes it’s alright to focus on a good thing for a moment.

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canvas-the-florist · 4 years ago

Text

Learning to Listen

Ships: Past Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Intruality,

Warnings: Messy breakup, swearing, unintentional bigotry, mentions of sex, brief (VERY brief) making out

Summary: Virgil, Roman, Patton, and Remus move into a house together as housing during college. It works out great until Virgil and Roman breakup and Remus discovers some things that could complicate his own romantic relationship with Patton (none of the characters are unsympathetic they’re just stupid.)

Word Count: 1.8K

“I’m just an over glorified fuck buddy to you, aren’t I?!” Virgil yelled through the thin walls and Remus flinched at the noise. Roman and Virgil decided to have an apparently much needed fight. He was glad that Patton wasn’t home to witness what he assumed was a breakup. Remus didn’t know whether or not he was going to have to comfort Virgil or Roman.

“No! I just- Virgil you aren’t listening to me! Like you ever do!” Remus turned up the music in his headphones, despite it already at max volume. His eardrums were probably going to explode, with blood and whatever cartilage did when it couldn’t handle the stress of hearing.

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“Yeah, VIRGIL, I think I am!” Remus was impressed that they had gotten to that part after two hours. But hey, they got there in the end, right? He heard the door of the room open and slam shut. He paused his music and looked up to see Roman looking deflated. Roman walked over and sat next to Remus silently. Remus didn’t say anything, not wanting to fuck up his brother’s day anymore, even though that sounded like fun. Roman screamed into a pillow and fell the back of his head onto Remus’s lap, slapping his phone to the ground. “Did you manage not to hear any of that?”

“Oh I’m pretty sure your voice could’ve broken the windows if you tried harder.” Remus supplied. “I don’t know exactly what the fight was about though, you guys were talking like normal people at the point.”

“What would you know about normal people?” Roman responded snarkily, before shaking his head softly and corrected himself. “Sorry. That fight was a lot, I’m not sure the adrenaline of it has burned out yet… Remus, is it weird that I thought we were doing really well? I didn’t even notice Virgil wasn’t happy with it. I really fucked up.”

Remus thought briefly to his own dating life. He realized he related more than he wanted to. “Yeah, you really boinged that one, dude. But, I’m sure it’ll be okay. If it doesn’t work out I can decapitate Virge for you. He’s my best friend but you’re my brother.”

Roman laughed lightly, and tears rolled down his face unto Remus’s legs. His laughter quickly turned to sobbing into Remus’s shirt until Patton came home from work 30 minutes later. He opened the door humming to himself until he saw the twins on the couch, Roman’s makeup running and generally looking like a mess.

“Is… everything okay?” Remus shook his head and Patton nodded to himself. “Where’s Virgil?” That simple question got Roman to crumble down horizontally on the couch again. Patton thought to himself with furrowed brows about that response. Remus pointed to Virgil’s room and Patton followed, knocking on the door. He went in after a few seconds to see Virgil curled up in a ball, shaking and clearly not alright.

He couldn’t even choke a word out. Patton closed the door and sat on the ground in front of him. Without questioning anything he opened up his arms in case Virgil wanted a hug. He did. “Okay kiddo, breathe in for four seconds for me. Now hold it for seven-”

This went on until his breathing was stable. Virgil’s fist was closed around a piece of Patton’s shirt. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Patton asked, tightening his grip. He had begun to suspect what might’ve happened and almost wanted to cry about it himself, but it wasn’t about him right now. “Not that you have to but if you need to, I’m here.”

“No, my therapist has told me to communicate better. Which, ironically, what I was trying to do with Roman…” Virgil trailed off, loosening his grip of Patton’s shirt and looking up to his ceiling. He doesn’t really seem to want me other than to have sex and after mentioning that it eventually turned into a screaming match. And then he… then he broke up with me. I should’ve listened to him before but I didn’t. Patton I don’t know what to do.”

Patton bit his lip for a second. Only sex, huh? He thought back to himself and Remus. They sort of had the opposite issue… This wasn’t about that though. Virgil still wanted a response. “I wasn’t there, Virgil, and this isn’t my relationship we’re talking about. I- do you want suggestions or do you just want me to listen without giving any opinions?”

“Suggestions would be cool.”

“Alright,” with that permission Patton tried to think of his best friendly advice. ‘Communication’ was usually always the answer but it was some sort of subsection of that Patton wasn’t sure how to explain. Listen to Roman? Be clear about your wants in a romantic relationship? It was hard for Patton to follow those in his OWN dating life. He realized more and more issues to bring up to Remus after this resolved somehow. “Well, it would probably be helpful to listen to what Roman wants in the relationship and have him listen to what you would want. And then… based on that, work on how to do that together or if that’s not compatible… Break off the romantic relationship because it would probably be healthier that way.”

Virgil whistled lowly. “Dang, Pat. I was sort of expecting a follow your heart thing. But, thank you. I guess that would mean confronting the issues, which is quite honestly terrifying. I should probably do that now or something…” He stood up, holding his head from doing it too fast and made his way to the door. Patton remained on the floor a moment longer before following.

Remus was back to listening to music while Roman was scrolling on his phone as Remus played with his hair idly. Virgil grabbed the fabric of his jacket before walking to the loveseat. He heard Patton close his door and almost jumped out of his skin. He took a deep breath. “Roman? Maybe we should try again with that discussion… I don’t want this to be screaming. I like you, a lot. What do you say?”

He made brief eye contact with Roman, seeing the dried tears and puffy eyes, but he nodded and sat up. Remus gave Virgil a raised eyebrow but said nothing. “Okay.” Roman croaked. Patton walked to the kitchen almost immediately to give both of them glasses of water to fight back against what the yelling and tears did to their throats. “You can start.”

“Should we leave?” Remus asked, as Patton handed the glass to Virgil and then Roman. Patton sat down at the one chair in the room, but didn’t get comfortable just in case. “I mean it’s your conversation.”

“You can stay. I don’t want to yell again. A mediator would be good.” Like it helped before, Remus thought to himself, but stayed put. Virgil cleared his throat with a small cough and took a sip of water. “I’m starting? Okay. I feel like I'm not getting a lot of romantic affection lately in our relationship that I would really appreciate. We don’t really kiss or anything and I would like to know if that’s because of me or not. You can go now.”

Roman blinked and used a tissue from the side table to clean up his face as he spoke. “Thank you for telling me that, Virgil… I didn’t realize that you wanted affectionate stuff that badly. I feel like I don’t need that in my relationships and I’ve been questioning my sexuality and romantic orientations for a while. And I probably should’ve brought this up earlier but… I think I’m…” He looked down at the ground. “I think I’m aromantic.” He sounded like he was about to cry again. Remus looked at Patton with wide eyes.

Patton returned the look as Virgil talked next. “Oh. Roman, I’m so sorry about the fuckbuddy comment, shit. I didn’t realize… but I’m proud of you for finding that out about yourself. Maybe it would be healthier if we broke up, huh?”

Roman laughed, new tears falling down his face. The two embraced each other, laughing while crying. “Yeah, I guess we are breaking up then!”

It would hurt for a while, and the change was definitely huge but it was better. But after witnessing that Patton and Remus knew that they had to talk. The only question was who would be the first to bring it up?

Remus and Patton were on Patton’s bed, making out. Which was fine, neither of their roommates were home and it was fun. The issues came up when Patton’s hand went under Remus’s shirt. “Is this okay?” He asked. It all came crashing down when Remus shook his head no. They stopped immediately and fell onto the bed looking up at the ceiling next to each other. “We should talk about this. Not that you didn’t want to, just that we need to define better boundaries for our relationship.”

“You’re right. We should talk about this.” Remus gulped. Apparently it was already happening. After two weeks but it still didn’t feel like enough time. “Patt, I love you… But I don’t know about fucking.”

“Crass, but I get it. Are you… asexual?” He looked over at his boyfriend, who shrugged. “Well, that’s fine too. So no sexual stuff. Got it. Anything else that would cross the line that we should talk about?”

Remus was tempted just to shrug again but didn’t. “I don’t know yet. After Roman finding out he’s aromantic I’ve been thinking. I still want to be with you, but can I give you everything you want in a relationship? I don’t think I… I don’t think I NEED or WANT sex at all, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m so fucking confused.”

“I may want it, Remus but I don’t think it’s a need in our relationship.” Patton reassured. And he wasn’t lying either. He believed what he was saying, glad that his conversations with Janus had also gotten him to check his own wants and needs in general. “I think I’m alright like this, but it’s important for me to know for sure.”

He reached out for Remus’s hand, and he took it. They looked up at the ceiling, with a feeling of clarity that helped them relax. It wasn’t really a change at all, but it gave reason to actions and made sure they wouldn’t make the other uncomfortable. And that was worth it.

Taglist: @vpow @loveroffandoms @yourfellowsmolgay @moth-bugs @vsem-5

#remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #prinxiety #intruality #past prinxiety #romantic intruality #asexual remus #aromantic roman #sander sides #sander sides fanfiction #writing #emile writes #fake shitpost

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nekoabiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The 5 Times Patton Tripped and the 1 Time Patton Fell (In Love)

Happy borthday @midnightsdarkangel!!!

AU: Human Pairing: Moxiety Words: 3704 Warnings: Lots of tripping, brief mentions of pain. Anything else, please let me go.

Summary: Patton falls over a lot; always has, always will. But while he was used to it, that didn’t mean his new roommate and friend would immediately be okay with it.

Patton had always been clumsy. Ever since he was young, he’d been covered in so many little scrapes and bruises that his mother fondly nicknamed him ‘Dalmatian’. It continued well into his adult life and was just his normal; not once did he step out of his home without a plaster covering some sort of scratch. However, just because he was used to tripping so often, didn’t mean that everyone was used to seeing him falling to the ground.

It always happened in an instant. One second, he was upright and just fine. The next, his face was planted on the ground and something was stinging. Patton would simply laugh it off, pick himself up and continue on with his day. However, when he fell in front of his new roommate, Patton didn’t know that he wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“Patton, oh my god. Are you okay? Are you hurt? That looked like it hurt a lot. Do you need help? What happened, oh god.” Virgil rambled in a single breath, falling to the ground beside his new friend.

Patton pushed himself up onto his knees, brushing the dirt off his hands. “I’m fine, I promise. Just a little fall, nothing big. I’m used to it.” He reassured him, though did wince slightly as the grazed skin moved in his attempt to stand. Patton went to brush the dirt from his leg, but Virgil’s hand gripped his wrist tightly before he could even get close.

“Don’t! You’ll get more dirt in it! There’s a bench a little down the street. Come sit. I’ll clean it. I have water in my backpack and some wipes, probably some tissues too.” The emo dragged Patton towards the bench as he continued to rattle off words. Patton didn’t have it in him to turn his friend down, so he simply did as he was told.

As Virgil was swinging his backpack over to unzip it, Patton glanced back to where he had pretty much made out with the pavement. He found that it was pretty flat, none of the stone were too out of place and made an obvious Patton-Hazard. Nothing around the area was showing as something that would be at fault either.

“Ow!” Patton yelped, flinching away from the damp tissue Virgil held.

“Sorry, but we need to get the dirt out…”

“Oh no, it’s okay! I didn’t mean to do that! I just wasn’t expecting it.” Patton reassured, relaxing more and giving Virgil his full attention. He still cringed when the damp tissue pressed against the graze, but Patton did his best not to worry his roommate even more.

Eventually, Virgil crumpled the tissue up in his fist and dropped the bottle back into his backpack, “It’s the best I can do for now. We should probably get back and put something over it though. Just to be safe. I’m gonna go put this in the bin over there, back in a sec.”

Patton nodded and went to stand back up, but something moving out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Patton looked down at his feet, blinked for a moment and then sighed, “I swear my shoelaces were tied before… that was probably it.” He reached down to tie them again, but a sudden incredulous voice had him looking up.

“Are you serious? You think you tripped on your shoelaces?” Virgil asked, his eyes wide.

Patton shrugged, “I mean, yeah. I’ve done it loads of times. They just never wanna stay tied.” He pointed at the laces of his shoes and wagged his finger at them, as though he were a father scolding his child.

“Oh my god…” Virgil dropped to sit next to Patton on the bench, “Are you for real?”

The pastel-coloured man sat back up, finally having his laces sorted. He tilted his head in confusion, patting his body down, “Um, well… I think so?”

Virgil learnt quickly that Patton had a very special relationship with gravity. It seemed like it wanted nothing more than to have Patton be as horizontal as possible. He’d learnt that Patton had issues with walking on uneven surfaces, even surfaces… just generally walking anywhere. Patton’s biggest enemy, though, was stairs.

So, when they went to see a movie with some friends and they had to climb the steps to get to their seats, Virgil was already counting down the seconds until disaster.

Their two friends went first, making it up to the seats with absolutely no issues, as most normal people did. Virgil gestured for Patton to go up before him, just so he could see if and when his roommate was going to fall down. He counted each step.

One. Two.

It was going fine. He was halfway there. Maybe today was a good day and the universe would leave Patton alone.

Six. Seven. Ei-

Never mind.

The fall was spectacular. Since Patton was holding a full bucket of popcorn and his natural reaction was to throw his arms out to cushion the blow, the sound and sight of the snack falling all around him really made it look more dramatic than it was.

Virgil quickly hopped up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He crouched by Patton, offering a hand to help him to his feet. Patton got back up and looked down at the popcorn all around them, a slight wobble to his lower lip as the guilt punctured his heart.

Patton turned to his roommate, “I’m so sorry, Virgil.” He whispered, clearly trying not to let tears roll down his cheeks, “I shouldn’t have held that. I knew I was gonna fall. I just wasted it all.” He suddenly gasped and tried to push past to make his way back down the floor, but Virgil stopped him and steered the man into his seat. “Virge! Let me go! I need to go tell someone!”

“No.” Virgil responded firmly, pushing his own popcorn bucket into Patton’s grip, “That’s why I got two. And I’ll go find someone. You stay here. Logan, make sure he stays.” When their friend nodded, Virgil turned on his heel and sped back down the stairs. He quickly located the nearest usher, let them know what happened and made his way back to his screen. The lights had dimmed, and the adverts had started to play, so Virgil creeped back up the stairs and slipped into his seat beside Patton. Before he’d even had the chance to relax, a pair of hands gripped his hoodie sleeve.

Patton looked to be right on the edge of crying when Virgil turned to look at him. “Virgil, did you find someone? Is everything okay?” He whined pathetically, sniffling like a hurt child.

“Yes, I did. They said they clean it once the movie’s over. No one was mad.” Virgil whispered back, awkwardly patting Patton’s hands to try and be reassuring. After Patton smiled softly and turned back to looking at the screen, Virgil let out a silent breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Virgil! Virgil! Come out here! Look, look!”

Virgil groaned and forced himself to sit up in bed. He checked the time on his phone, only to find it was around 8am, far too early for Virgil to be awake. But, the constant happy squealing noises from outside his room forced his hand and he slid out from under the covers, exiting his room in a sleepy haze, “What?” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“PUPPY!” Patton held the dog up to Virgil’s face, causing the emo to yell suddenly in surprise and take a step back. “Sorry, I got really excited.” Patton had a light blush to his cheeks, but his grin still remained as large as ever as he petted the small animal.

“Right… um, so… why is there a dog here? You didn’t, like, get one without telling me, right?” Virgil tentatively asked, trying his best to hurt his incredibly sweet and cute roommate’s.

“Well…” Patton swayed back and forth, trying to pick his words carefully, “My mum’s friend is out of town for a bit and she needed someone to look after her dog. She asked my mum, but my mum is really busy and already has two dogs that she can just about look after and they don’t really like other dogs. And, well, long story short, I kinda said I could look after the dog for a while… and now she’s… here?” Patton offered with a sheepish grin.

Virgil looked between Patton and the dog for a moment, his sleep-addled brain trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t embarrassing. He eventually just shrugged and turned back to go into his room, “Whatever, just make sure it doesn’t destroy anything. I’m going back to bed.”

Patton let out a high-pitched squeal of happiness, “You’re the best, Virgil! I’ll make sure that she’s good!” He called out as the door shut behind his roommate, not allowing him to see the light blush the compliment put upon the emo’s cheeks.

A few uneventful days passed by with Patton fussing over the dog every second of every hour while Virgil awkwardly listened from either in his room or from the couch. It seemed like everything was going just perfectly. But then…

A loud squeal and yelp sounded, with several more noises that struck fear into the emo following shortly after. Virgil jumped to his feet, wrenched open the door and practically threw himself out into the living room. “PATTON?! Are you alright?!” His gaze trained downwards to the man sat on the ground before him, with the dog cautiously approaching him again.

Patton rubbed his butt while he smiled sheepishly, “I didn’t see her down there. I just fell back after I felt her on my foot. I’m okay!” As he started to collect up his belongings that had fallen from his grip, the dog had seemingly deemed Patton safe and started to jump up to lick his face again. It distracted him enough to drop his things back to the floor and just be reduced to pure giggles.

Virgil let out a sigh of relief and moved across the room to pick up Patton’s stuff, “Next time, just don’t carry so much crap with you. I don’t need another heart attack like that, okay?”

Patton nodded, holding the dog in his arms with a wide grin and shining eyes, as though he had the best life he could possibly ask for and hadn’t just fallen on his ass a few minutes ago. The sight had Virgil’s world stopping dead for a moment. Just enough for him to commit it to memory.

“And you tell me that my room is a mess…” Virgil quipped as he opened the door to his roommate’s bedroom.

“It’s not that bad!” Patton protested with a huff. He’d taken a few steps in and turned to stare at Virgil with a pout. It was hard enough to see where his feet were as there was a pile of clothes just in front of him, as well as other piles of random objects around the rest of the floor space. It had clearly been like this for a long time, as there seemed to be something akin to pathways running between the mess – going from the bed to the desk to the door to the window.

“Uh huh… sure.” Virgil carefully took his first steps into Patton’s room. “So, what was it you needed help with?” He asked, peering at all the pictures that littered the shelves closest to the door.

“Oh right!” Patton spun on his toes and wandered over to the tallest bookshelf, “Can you help me reach up there?” He pointed to the very top, “Something accidentally got up there and I can’t quite reach by myself…”

“I mean, I can try.” Virgil cautiously stepped around the rest of the mess and joined Patton just in front of the bookshelf. “How do you wanna do this? I’m not exactly that much taller than you. I could… maybe… try and lift you up to reach it, or something…”

Patton gasped, his eyes lighting up, “That’s perfect!” He grabbed Virgil’s arms and tugged him closer, “I didn’t even think of that!”

Virgil opened his mouth to ask how else he was supposed to help but thought better of it. He crouched down a little and wrapped his arms tightly around Patton’s legs, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yup! I’m ready!” Both Patton’s hands were ready on Virgil’s shoulders, in case he needed to steady himself.

Carefully and slowly, Virgil stood, lifting his roommate up in the air. Patton’s grip on his shoulders was tight, but not entirely uncomfortable. It was a bit of a shock that Patton was as light as he was, and that Virgil was as strong as he was. Neither expected this to go so well. Patton, with a moment of hesitation, managed to reach up on top of the bookshelf and feel around for the missing object. The moment his hand came in contact with it, he gasped, “I got it!” He grabbed a hold of it tightly and pulled it close to his chest. At the same pace, Virgil dropped him back to the ground and let him go.

It was only once they’d fully parted that Virgil got a chance to see what it was.

“I’m afraid to ask why that stuffed cat was on top of the bookshelf, but I’m apparently too stupid to keep my mouth shut.” Virgil cocked his head, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Patton blushed and clutched the plush toy tighter, “It was an accident… We were dancing and just, all of a sudden, he went flying…”

“Dancing?”

“Yeah! Like this!”

Patton started to slow dance, holding the cat’s paw in his hand as though it was his dance partner. He twirled around the room, humming to himself. It was a little silly, but ultimately endearing. At least, it was for a while.

Somehow, a rogue bottle rolled into the space Patton was dancing in and got under his feet. In the moments he was going down, Patton’s eyes widened in fear and he reached out for the closest thing to try and keep himself upright. Unfortunately, the object he grabbed a hold of was not steady enough and both of them fell to the ground. Patton let out a pained squeak and shut his eyes tight as his head hit the floor, the blow only somewhat cushioned by the mess beneath it.

“Owww…” he whined, going to reach up to rub his head. It was stopped by something sorta squishy yet still firm. Patton’s brow furrowed as his hand grasped a hold of whatever it was that was in his way and his eyes opened, only to be met with a familiar pair of eyes underlined with dark eyeshadow. “Virgil…?”

The emo’s face was a deep red as his blush spread across his face. He opened and closed his mouth several times, his eyes darting between Patton’s face and the hand that was curled around his forearm. Eventually, Virgil managed to croak out a few words, though they were no louder than a whisper, “You… you okay?”

Patton muttered a gentle “yeah”, as he seemed to almost forget where he was, staring up into Virgil’s eyes. They seemed to be getting closer, but Patton couldn’t say if he was seeing things or not. They’d eventually get off the floor and have a long chat, but for now, this was fine. The pain was gone too.

Over time, Virgil had done everything he could to make sure anything that was a trip hazard was either removed or given more height. It did mean that the rug they had was now pretty much glued to the floor at the edges and the coffee table was like a mini dining table, but less injuries were far more beneficial.

Virgil was relaxing on the couch, watching some show for the umpteenth time while scrolling through his phone absent-mindedly. In the kitchen, he could hear the sound of the oven and dishwasher – both of which Virgil had been supervising helping with since Patton almost toppled over or walked into them whilst loading them up. Thankfully, they happened on separate occasions, but it was enough to have Virgil’s anxiety going crazy if Patton was alone in the kitchen too long. His roommate was currently in his room, on the phone with his family. It was a calm afternoon, something Virgil needed.

After a while, Patton’s phone call ended and he practically skipped out into the living area, ready to greet his roommate. He’d only gotten so far as to open his mouth, when his foot caught on his other and he went plummeting to the ground.

Thankfully, he’d been close to the couch when his feet got all tangled together.

Patton’s landing was cushioned by Virgil’s hands and his face pretty much ended up directly in the emo’s lap. His cheeks flushed a soft pink as he raised his head to smile up at the man on the couch, “Whoops, sorry about that…” However, Patton didn’t move from the position – other than tucking his legs under himself so he was more comfortable. His head rested back down onto Virgil’s lap and Patton relaxed, one of the hands that had caught him now gently running through his hair.

Virgil let out a playful sigh, “What are we gonna do with you?”

“Hmm, I dunno. Sure you’ll figure it out though.” Patton reached up and interlocked his fingers with Virgil’s free hand, pulling it close enough that he could place a soft kiss upon the metal band.

“You might be a lost cause, but we’ve got plenty of time to find that out…” Virgil’s voice was low as he looked down at the man resting in his lap, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

Patton was positively giddy with excitement. He’d not been able to stop smiling since the moment he woke up. His day had been absolutely magical, something he’d treasure for years to come. He felt stunning in his gorgeous, tailor-made white dress with flowing long sleeves and soft makeup, all complimented wonderfully by his partner’s darker tastes as they stood side-by-side.

Finally, he was in his partner’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. Nothing over-the-top, no spinning or twirling, no choreography – much to their friends’ dismay and frustration - just a sweet moment for a sweet couple. At least, that was what Patton thought was going to happen.

All of a sudden, his hand was grasped tightly, and three words were whispered into his ear.

“Hold on tight.”

Patton had no time to even ask what that meant before he heard the song change and he was spun out and back in. He could only laugh in surprise, when he caught the playful glint in Virgil’s eyes and they both started to dance with more purpose. It was still far from choreographed, but it didn’t matter to them.

Patton’s smile had widened into a grin as he continued to laugh. Once more, as the end of the song approached, he was spun out and back, but this time he felt his weight tipping backwards. He squealed in shock, reaching up for Virgil with his free hand and grabbing a hold of his shoulder. Patton didn’t even reach the floor, however. Instead, he felt his weight being supported by Virgil’s arm beneath him.

“Gotcha.” Virgil said quietly with a grin. His partner burst into giggles and Virgil returned him upright, wrapping him in a loose hug.

“That wasn’t fair, Virge!” Patton jokingly chastised his new husband as they took their seats at the head table with the rest of their wedding party.

Virgil simply shrugged, “You’d fall at some point today anyway. Why not get a head start?”

“Virgil!” Patton whispers, lightly tapping against his arm with the back of his hand causing them both to smile at each other.

Later, once the speeches had concluded and food had been served, Virgil was looking over to his now-husband. He’d been under strict instruction from Patton’s mother to keep as close to Patton as he could for the duration of the wedding and reception, in order to save him if he tripped over. Not only to avoid him any embarrassment, but also save the pristine white dress from any dirt so the pictures would look good. But, it was bound to happen at some point during the reception. Patton was going to find some way to end up falling over and he would probably scuff the dress up a little bit. Patton would immediately feel so awful about ruining it, even if it could just be dry-cleaned later. So, Virgil had concocted a plan.

He purposefully grabbed his drink with more force than necessary, causing a few drops to spill over the edge and at least one tiny splotch to appear on Patton’s dress. Virgil gasped exaggeratedly in order to grab Patton’s attention, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Patton. I spilt my drink on your dress…”

Patton looked down and noticed the little mark, “You didn’t. It’s just a tiny little mark, it’ll be fine!” He cheerily reassured his partner, who shook his head.

“No, no… I really did ruin it. It’s no longer… perfect. I’m so sorry.” Virgil emphasised that it was his fault.

The cogs clicked in place and Patton’s expression slowly turned to one of understanding, “Ohhh…” he breathed out as his smile returned, “Well, it’s still okay. No harm done to either of us, right?” Patton winked unsubtly.

“Yeah, no harm at all.” Virgil pressed a kiss to Patton’s cheek before returning to his food.

Patton couldn’t help but stare at his husband for a moment. This man had gone from fretting and worrying about Patton’s little falls and trips to making sure that Patton wouldn’t be upset with the consequences of a little stumble on their wedding day. It was enough to make him fall all over again, and this fall wasn’t one he’d ever want to pick himself up from.

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#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Moxiety #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Morality Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #5+1 fic

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