#why my relationships fall apart why i have these rapid mood swings

[zilodak]

Wait omg Spring's BPD coded?

Well he's unnamed-mental-illness-that-I-struggle-from-which-i-am-85%-sure-is-BPD coded

[mattzerella-sticks]

Lonely Together (3k, Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne, M)

ao3 link

Barry needs others, yet whether by his enemies or his own actions, he ends up alone. After Iris leaves him, Barry feels as if he drifts through life. Like lightning humming in the air without a rod to ground him.

Until he struck another lonely soul and entered a relationship he never thought possible. Now, months since he and Bruce began sleeping with each other, Barry feels settles. At peace in a way he hasn't felt in a long while. Since he and Iris started petering out.

But it's not love... is it?

           Barry wakes unintentionally, consciousness stirring without say. Currents of electricity that relentlessly hum under his skin strengthen in another’s presence. Especially when it’s familiar. They spark like lightning, striking until he surfaces from sleep’s drowning tides. His eyelids flutter open, though his head remains pillowed by soft down. He watches, shadowed in darkness, as Bruce sneaks around the room. “Hey,” he drawls, voice scratchy from sleep. Grin unfurling lazily while Bruce’s form tensed, “you just swing in?”

           Bruce sets something down on a neighboring dresser, turning. He can’t see fine details, like his self-disparaging frown or furrowed brows interrupted by a wrinkled comma, but Barry imagines them easily. Knows these features intimately. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

           An unnecessary apology. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here,” Barry replies, then drags his hand across the comforter. Thumb brushing against a loose seam. “So, I guess we’re even.”

           “You didn’t mean to?” Bruce asks, advancing. He sits on the opposite side of his bed, finding Barry’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “What were you doing then?”

           “Waiting for you.”

           He arrived earlier, vibrating past security and locked doors. Shouted into an empty apartment where his voice echoed, unanswered. Half-a-second spent checking each room, Barry knew Bruce wasn’t there. Slowly, Barry retraced his steps. Stood near the front door, wondering. Debated if he should leave for Central City or stay in Gotham. Both options similar in that no matter what he decided, he’d be alone.

           They were different types of loneliness, however. He left Central tonight because what he faced was too suffocating. Barry ran and ran, only it waited there behind every corner. Inescapable on well-tread streets he loved. Growing from cracks on sidewalks like weeds, strong despite how many times crushed. Returning even if ripped out of the soil. And while these desolate sprigs littered his city, it didn’t compare to the jungle in his home. Wild, vast, with hanging vines that slithered across his shoulders. Tickled his neck during particularly quiet moments that made Barry acknowledge how empty it seemed after Iris.

           At least, in Bruce’s apartment, it was different. Like being alone in an elevator that crawled upwards.

           Less insistent. More manageable. Its presence didn’t insist recognition, merely a temporary visitor. Disappearing soon as Bruce arrived back. Barry walked towards Bruce’s bedroom, resolute, shedding his clothes along the way. He grabbed a book he hadn’t finished reading since last he was there. Settled down and opened to a bent age corner.

           He can’t feel the book. Bruce must have removed it. Maybe it’s what woke him.

           Leaning forward, Bruce presses a tiny kiss at the seam of Barry’s lips. Pulls him free of his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he tells him, “I was out later than I expected, than I wanted to be…”

           “It’s okay,” Barry whispers. His other hand slides into his friend’s hair, playing with it. Brunet curls soft and damp from sweat. “I’m okay.”

           He nods, yet Bruce still looks troubled. Dark gaze piercing, staring deeply into Barry’s own. Drifting closer, their noses brush. Bruce speaks again, breath ghosting over his mouth. Warm and intoxicating. “If you’re able and… in the mood…” he offers, “We can…?” Bruce trails off, not bothering with saying the rest. Barry understands regardless. Because of how he hovers, braced atop him, Barry caged in on either side by Bruce’s arms. Because Bruce asks his own way, through gentle squeezes of their joined hands that he repeats in rapid succession. Because they’ve done this before and grew far beyond the rushed unsurety from their first time.

           Barry kissed him, accidentally. Compelled more by a longing for touch than of Bruce. For a distracting, newer sensation besides the soul-crushing hollowness that roared inside his chest since Iris ended things. Needed some reminder he was alive after another harrowing mission that almost cost the League their lives, again. Again.

           Like a rowdy storm, Barry thundered with unexpressed adrenaline that demanded release. A lightning rod he could cling to, grounded and tethered in the present.

           Bruce was there. Offering Barry coffee from their conference room’s private pot, a gesture of solidarity at being forgotten while everyone else fled for home. He accepted the gifted novelty Superman mug, sipping absentmindedly. “It’s decaf, drowning in cream, smothered in sugar…” Bruce said, “that’s your usual, right?”

           It was. Bruised, bloodied, and exhausted from battling ancient, cosmic entities hellbent on planetary destruction, and Bruce remembered how he liked his coffee.

           The mug shattered as he dropped it, but Barry did not hear more than a tinny pop. His drink splashed their feet, leaving brown, splotchy stains he noticed hours later. Barry jumped Bruce, hauling him close by his cape. Kissed Bruce as his mind played static. In rapid succession, that static disappeared. Rationality descending with vengeance, circling, bombarding Barry with explosive truths.

           He kissed Batman. That’s his friend. He kissed Batman. He’s a man. He kissed Batman. Inside the Hall of Justice, where anyone could find them. He kissed Batman. He kissed Batman. He kissed Bruce.

           Drifting apart, he ignored tingling skin to pry a coherent thought out from the overgrown bramble that was his mind. “Bruce,” Barry choked, grip on Bruce’s cape loose and dangling. Gaze dropping, he focused on his chest. Bat fluttering with every exhale. “I… I don’t, I’m so – “

           Bruce wouldn’t let him explain, roughly capturing Barry’s lips in response. Frenzied, trapping Barry between his body and the table. With a passionate reception like that, Barry felt his worry melt. Became a gentle tide coaxing him deeper. Willingly swept farther than his cares might reach. Bruce’s deft fingers trailing, tickling, at his sides made thinking about the empty bed in his apartment very difficult. When he pulled his cowl back, pinning Barry with an indescribable hunger burning behind his eyes, any disappointment over an understocked fridge waiting at home disappeared. And as Bruce slid one glove off using his teeth, second hand preoccupied teasing Barry’s waistband, Barry’s sole concern was unhitching his friend’s belt.

           “Yeah, like that,” Bruce sighed, “let me make this good for you…” He touched Barry’s already half-hard cock, cupping it. Rhythmically sliding his hand while their hips ground together. Barry softly cursed, pressure mounting. Bruce’s dick throbbed against his and tempted him further, headed for the edge. Plummeting when he twisted his wrist, Bruce sucking an aggressive mark below Barry’s chin that joined a loose collection of already fading bruises.

           Barry came, panting, chasing those last few seconds of bliss until his muscles sagged from fatigue. Kept upright by his friend’s strong hold. Bruce joined him with a strangled curse, head resting on Barry’s shoulder. Panting, they lingered in each other’s embrace. Aware that this meager amount of pleasure had redefined their relationship.

           Hours later, Barry lay awake in bed. Mind restaging their sordid affair, body igniting at the memory of where Bruce grazed him. He fondled pale skin, unblemished now that his accelerated healing factor kicked on. Barry wished it hadn’t. Admitting that, then, even as a whisper from his subconscious, terrified him. Grabbing the pillow on Iris’s untouched side, he held it across his face. Screamed his frustration, and again when he realized her scent finally faded from the fabric.

           Those next few weeks were awkward. During meetings, sitting feet from where he orgasmed and pretending it never happened while evading Bruce’s searching gaze. Boundless excuses, lies, of where he needed to be. Fleeing before Bruce could reach him. Volunteering for any mission, throwing himself into heroics where bad guys needed defeating, lives were saved, and he could act like nothing about his world changed.

           Anything that kept him from asking questions he could not answer truthfully.

           Despite his best efforts – his superhuman speed – Bruce pulled ahead. Running a marathon instead of the sprint Barry hoped it was.

           “We need to talk,” he said, “about… coffee, the other night.” Bruce’s grip tightened on the Javelin’s yoke, glare firm and unwavering out at space. Barry, meanwhile, shrunk in his seat. Conversation he dreaded crashing into him like a meteor.

           Oliver radioed Barry for a mission, about a distress signal League channels recorded. From what they deciphered, the code was obsolete and most likely false. However, sparing resources, he figured a small team could check. Confirm their prior suspicions. Barry agreed, racing over. Only he hadn’t realized his teammate for this mission would be the same man he was avoiding.

           Following debriefing and takeoff, they traveled in uncomfortable silence broken with Bruce’s demand.

           Barry reigned back telltale vibrations, hiding his nerves. “Okay,” he said, “Yeah…” He squeezed his fists and chuckled, “You know how I take my coffee?”

           Bruce allowed him this short reprieve. “It always struck me odd, and… hypocritical, how you liked it. Why choose decaf if you’re adding that much sugar?”

           “It offsets the bitter taste, is all.”

           “Barry…” He wrangled their conversation onto its path once more, tone absent of any levity. “What we did, I…” Bruce paused, testing what he wants to say. Lines around his mouth shifting as he cycles through his thoughts. “I’m not sure how we should proceed.”

           “Neither do I,” Barry shrugged, “Not talking about it was working well for me.”

           “You’ve been acting noticeably strange during missions. I’ve been… unsettled, too. At times.” Barry’s chest twinged, an annoyance he dealt with by crossing his arms and scowling. “If this continues, affecting future missions –“

           “Because it’s always about this mission, isn’t it?”

           Bruce sighed, then Barry felt a gentle brush against his elbow. Leaving the Javelin on autopilot, he let his hands wander. They settled on Barry. One at his elbow, another squeezing Barry’s knee. “Do you…” Bruce strained, forcing his next question past with serious effort. It piqued his interest, wondering what he might say. Obviously difficult, Barry sloped forward as the silence grew. “Do you,” he finally continued, “regret… what happened?”

           He should. They were teammates. Friends who stupidly jerked each other off. Bruce… was the first man he ever let touch him that intimately. Combined, these arguments battered down like a hurricane, reasons how everything about what he and Bruce did – what Barry initiated – was an enormous misunderstanding. A mistake that never should have been. And yet he could not cobble together some form of regret.

           Worse, Barry still yearned for more.

           Barry did not believe he deserved more. The ink from where Iris’s name was tattooed on his heart hadn’t fully disappeared; a relic of what he lost, stinging with each beat. Those scant moments, lost in the throes of passion alongside Bruce, were some of the best he had in months. He made Barry forget his failed relationship like a strong drink or the best drug. How was it possible?

           Determined, Barry turned his neck slightly. Readied a false speech, about being tired and shaken. That their tryst meant nothing and should be forgotten.

           Except he caught Bruce’s stare. His naked gaze, cowl discarded when he wasn’t looking. Layers peeled backwards, exposing a vulnerable side of his friend Barry rarely saw. Shoulders hunched, weighed heavily by an answer Barry hadn’t given. Wisps of disappointment hung in the air like smoke from an ashen cigarette. He cleared his throat, going over what he wanted to say.

           Then tossed the script.

           “I… No,” he confessed, surprising both of them. Bruce’s jaw shifted and a small gasp escaped. “I don’t.” It was his turn. “Do you?”

           His hand slid across his forearm, covering Barry’s hand. “No.”

           “…What do we do now?”

           Humming, thumb petting his upper shin, Bruce offered a suggestion. “It’s been… hard for both of us, hasn’t it? The lives we lead… there’s little chance for that kind of peace. Boats with no safe harbors to rest at, not anymore.” Not since Iris, in a cold whisper, explained how claustrophobic and helpless Barry left her feeling most days. Not since Selina and Bruce came upon a crossroads and chose different paths. “I think that if we want to… engage in activities like – uh, like coffee, then why shouldn’t we? As long as we’re mature about it, and what we do won’t interfere with our duties…”

           Barry weakly snorted, Bruce’s clinical description goading him into it. He laid the idea out logically and he found no flaw in his reasoning. A small crack of doubt shoved its way in, that he misheard. Bruce suggesting, put crudely, a ‘friends-with-benefits’ arrangement? But then Barry remembered how eagerly Bruce flew, chasing his lips. That it was his hand edging him into completion. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like the wishful thinking he assumed.

           Especially as Bruce’s hand crept towards his waistband. “What are you -?”

           “Incentive,” Bruce smirked, “Showing you how good this will be. That I can make it.” ‘Let me make this good’ was what he said, while jerking him inside the Hall. “Is that okay?”

           Chuckling, Barry brushed his wavy bangs back. “I thought you didn’t want this to get in the way of our jobs?”

           “Autopilot is an amazing invention. Doing our job at double the speed, leaving more time for… coffee.”

           Barry kissed him, punishing him for such a lame joke by nipping his bottom lip. Soothed it with his tongue while he helped Bruce, shimmying his hips. Pants bunched near his knees, Barry’s cock bobbed between his legs.

           Bruce climbed out of the pilot’s seat, kneeling at his feet. “So,” he growled, breath hot as it hit his twitching cock, “that’s a yes? We’re doing this?”

           “This is dumb. Dangerous. And it’s going to end poorly for the both of us,” Barry muttered, grip twisting in Bruce’s hair after he licked a strip up his cock, “Of course we’re doing it.”

           He was mostly right. During a particularly harried affair, Barry caught sight of his costumed reflection in one of the League’s interrogation rooms’ one-sided mirrors. Watched as he thrust his cock, Bruce’s ass accepting its length. His face, masked, contorted pleasurably. Barry stuttered, taking in the full picture. Flash fucking Batman, like they were a bad porno. If only the camera wasn’t disabled… Scoffing, he relaxed his grip on his friend’s hips. Instead reaching for Bruce’s cowl, ripping it off. His, too, in the next beat. “What?” Bruce asked.

           “This is so stupid,” he huffed, hips rolling slower than before, “What are we even doing?”

           “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

           Barry sighed, “No, like… objectively. Aren’t we too old to be doing this, or… I don’t know, better than it? I doubt this is what most people imagine heroes do in their spare time.”

           “We’re only human, Barry,” Bruce said, grunting as he slammed into his prostate, “We can… can afford a few minutes off the pedestal.”

           “I guess…”

           “Hey,” Bruce twisted, catching his eye in the mirror, “are you having second thoughts?”

           “No.”

           “This is good?”

           He languidly traced Bruce’s spine, cautious of every bump. “The best.” Then, pressing hard at the dip of his ass, he added, “Even if Oliver expected us at training five minutes ago.” Barry orgasmed, Bruce’s laughter booming and stretched hole choking his cock.

           Dumb. Dangerous. Although their situation actually improved since they began, and Barry cannot picture this ever ending.

           Bruce noses at his chin, stubble scratching his neck. “Hey,” he asks, “is this good?”

           “It is,” he responds instinctively, “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

           “Was it?” Bruce lavishes a spot under his ear, one that electrifies his entire body, “Then I guess I’m not really being good, am I?” He sits on Barry’s cock, sliding his ass along its length. “Are you still with me?”

           “I never left.” Barry kisses him, smiling wide enough he ruins their embrace. His hands roam, active participants now. Crossing the planes of Bruce’s body for purchase. However, in his search, he brushes against cuts and wounds different from those he knows. Passing a deep valley at his ribs, Barry’s thumb dips into a small lake. Bruce’s breath hitches, coughing a low whine. Barry ends their kiss to study his wet thumb. Copper invades his senses, and his eyes adjust enough he sees red. “You’re hurt.”

           “Not badly,” Bruce amends. He rests his forehead against Barry’s. “It’s nothing, I… I took a hit, earlier. Harley didn’t see the blade and – it doesn’t matter –“

           “It matters Bruce,” Barry tells him, “Of course it does.” He taps on Bruce’s shoulder, signaling for a dismount. Bruce listens, wincing as he settles onto his side. “This shouldn’t be good for just me. You deserve it, too.” As he speaks, Bruce’s head lists, lashes fluttering. Barry notes the bags pillowing his eyes were puffier and more purple than ever. “Are you up for this?”

           Bruce sighs, “You came all this way –“

           “Yes, I did. But I didn’t ask about me, Bruce.” He caresses Bruce’s face, unbloodied thumb grazing his lip. “What do you want?”

           “I…” Bruce levels his focus elsewhere, gazing past Barry. Afraid. “I’m tired, and I could really sleep. But I, uh… I’d rather not sleep alone.”

           Neither would he. “Okay.”

           “Okay?”

           “I mean,” he turns, staring at the ceiling, “I was already asleep before you got here. And I bet you were gonna slip in beside me, weren’t you? If I didn’t catch you?”

           “I… I was.” Bruce collapses, head landing atop Barry’s chest. Hairs tickling his chin, arms curling around his waist. Yawning, Bruce snuggles him close. “We can finish this later, in the morning… if that’s okay?”

           Barry threads his fingers through Bruce’s hair, smiling. “We don’t have to. If we can’t, then we can’t.” He repeats this, a melody that helps his friend drift off. Barry’s voice fades, soon silence overpowering the mantra.

           Body leaded but unbidden by shame, Barry continues lazily stroking Bruce. Petting him felt nice. Somehow better than the heavier actions previously done. Reminds him of better nights, when he and Iris lay together in bed. Exchanging tidbits about their day until they fell asleep. Before those cracks in their relationship spread and it shattered.

           Thinking about Iris stings, but not like it used to. Dulled by Bruce’s very presence. A man who lived in shadows bringing a new light into his life.

           He glances down at Bruce while he slumbers, heart sparking wildly. A possibility flashing like lightning inside grey rain clouds. That Barry could one day fall in love with Bruce, if he hasn’t already.

[scapegrace74-blog]

Sabine

A/N  This is my gift to CodenamePegasus (@Twitter) for the @xfilesfanficexchange.   They made the very rash decision to give me carte blanche for my fic, and this is what I came up with.  The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati post-ep/AU.  Angst with a whipped topping of MSR.  Rated G.  

1. His lips tingle with the sensory echo of Scully’s fingertips, and the door closes softly behind her. It isn’t lost on Mulder that he has just effectively exchanged vows beneath the ersatz chuppah of his doorframe with the woman bringing him news of his ex-wife’s death. It makes a kind of twisted sense in its morbid symmetry.

He is moved, not so much by the words of devotion they exchanged, but by her tears. Scully is neither maudlin nor overwrought, but she wept for him, for the loss of another piece of his past. He’s a selfish man. He’ll continue to water the arid garden of his life with every drop she sheds on his behalf.

Sighing, he moves to the phone, knowing what needs to be done. There’s no need to look up the number.

“Hello, Mrs. Fowley. It’s Fox Mulder.” He takes off his Yankee’s cap and places it gently beside the receiver, no longer in the mood for celebration.

“Yes, it has been a while. I just heard about Diana - I’m deeply sorry for your loss.” The fishtank throws murky light, shadows ribboning languidly against the wall.

“Mrs. Fowley, I need to talk to her.”

2. The office lays under an oppressive hush, with the shuffling of paper and the scritch of Scully’s pen the only relief from awkward silence. It has been like this for several days, and she burns with the need to understand why. Granted, Mulder is still recovering from his involuntary brain surgery and the loss of Diana, but normally the kind of information she brought back from Africa would lift her partner out of any dark place. Instead, he seems… indifferent, maybe even slightly robotic. Shortly after 5 o’clock each afternoon, just as the light from the clerestory windows is growing dim, he rises, politely bids her goodnight, and leaves without a backwards glance.

Parking on Hegal Place is notoriously scarce, so she is sitting in her car down the block from Mulder’s apartment, trying to formulate a plan of action. For someone so verbose and extravagantly perceptive, Mulder is surprisingly reticent with self-disclosure. Even after six years, she still has to intuit the cause of his moods from circumstantial evidence, but that method is failing her now.

Before she can decide her next move, she sees him leaving his building, carrying a dark umbrella against the chill rain that has begun to fall. He approaches a parked car and bends towards the passenger window, obviously speaking with whomever is within. He straightens as the door swings open and a petite woman with long dark hair emerges. Is this what he looks like next to her - towering and solicitous? He carefully shelters the woman, one long arm hovering carefully near her shoulders. Scully stares at her lap until they have disappeared inside, unwilling to see what can’t be unseen. Her heart feels bruised. She drives home.

3. The drumbeat of heels animates the sterile basement corridor, and he rushes to finish his call.

“I’ve got to get back to work, okay sweetie? I’ll see you tonight. Uh-huh, to the stars, you know that. G’bye.”

He can tell she’s overheard at least part of his conversation by the tight mask of composure she wears as she settles deliberately into her chair, focus strained towards her monitor. Several minutes pass with only the staccato sound of her typing. He waits to see if she’ll ask. He wants her to ask, because it will spare him the obligation of divulging. He wants her to ask, because he wants her to feel that she possesses certain inalienable rights where he is concerned: to question the questioner, to test the tensile strength of the fascia that binds them.

Her eyes brim ocean-water that she refuses to blink away. In a war of emotional attrition, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance. He could lay siege to her heart and still go home empty-handed. Scully isn't about mastery. He's learned this the hard way.

“Scully, there’s… I need you to meet someone. Someone important to me. Can you come over to my place today after work?” She is shaking her head before he’s finished, chin lifted with resolute dignity.

“Scully… please?”

Her shoulders slump in defeat.

4. Mulder’s hallway has never seemed so long, not even after she’d announced her intention to leave the FBI, to leave him alone with the endless futility of his one-man crusade. As then, her heart beats with leaden precision high in her throat. What’s about to happen will change everything between them, and unlike the previous year she has no back-up plan. She’s placed all her bets on an outside chance, and now the house is folding.

Mulder is still dressed for work, his tie loose and jacket discarded somewhere. His apartment, which usually envelopes her like a worn sweater, feels foreign. She smells spaghetti sauce, and his television emits a quiet laugh-track in the background. It’s a domestic scene, but for once she stands outside the frame, a trespasser in someone else’s narrative.

Her partner is uneasy, that much is clear. His hair is in disarray, and as she watches he shifts from one foot to another. A familiar light of determined resolution settles on him, and he takes her cold hand with his own, drawing her forward towards her fate.

“Come inside, Scully.” She trails behind him towards his couch, where a pair of slight, pale shoulders divided by glossy brown curls can just be made out.

“Mulder, I don’t think…”, she balks.

“Scully, I want… let me…” he blows air past lips pursed in vexation. In this moment, his eloquence fails him. They are finally standing beside the couch, and as she gasps, Mulder finds words.

“This is Sabine. My daughter.”

5. Back in 1989 when he first learned that Diana, his on-again-off-again girlfriend, was pregnant, his first reaction had been to offer to pay for an abortion. His second had been to call the family lawyer. For a man obsessed with rebuilding his family from the ashes of his sister’s disappearance, he was resistant in the extreme to potential fatherhood.

Diana thought she could have it all: a demanding career, an evasive but passionate lover, and an all-American family. And for a time, she did, or a credible facsimile. He came around to the idea of becoming a parent slowly under Diana's careful manipulation. She slipped a blurry ultrasound picture into his briefcase, and he spent the better part of a flight to Atlanta looking for meaning in its abstract ovoids. At the second ultrasound, he was sitting beside the technician, listening to the rapid pulse of his redemption. By the time Sabine was born, they were married.

It lasted a little over a year. He never managed to forgive Diana (and by extension, Sabine) for luring his attention away from his newfound paranormal suitor. Shortly after he witnessed Sabine’s first steps across a slopping meadow in Rock Creek Park, they left for Europe. The divorce papers claimed spousal neglect, and he could hardly disagree. He signed over custody, paid enough child support that Diana’s mother quit her job and moved to Germany to become Sabine’s full-time caregiver, and witnessed their baby grow into a striking young girl via semi-annual photographs and an occasional phone call.

Now, here she sat - a long-limbed ten year old with Samantha’s hair, his indolent gaze, and her mother’s patrician cheekbones. A virtual stranger. An orphan. Another chance to prove that he was a worthy custodian of fragile things.

6. Scully’s first reaction should have been shock, or at least relief. It wasn’t. It was a conflagration of burning jealousy. At Diana, for being a mother and a wife. At Mulder, for welcoming his daughter into their nation of two. And at Sabine - lovely, blameless Sabine - for having a claim on her partner that she could never equal.

Their first meetings were stilted and short. Sabine barely recognized her father when he showed up at her grandmother’s the day after Diana’s funeral. She called him "Mr. Mulder" and he felt two feet tall. They are slowly piecing together a relationship, a few hours at a time.

Since that first introduction, Mulder has tried to include Scully in as many of their plans as possible. By his own admission, he knows next to nothing about adolescent girls, and he is obviously hoping his partner will serve as some kind of female buffer to his ineptitude. They’ve rented bikes and ridden through fallen leaves around the Tidal Basin. They’ve taken in the tigers and elephants at the National Zoo. With the weather turning cold, there are pizzas and candy and the entire Disney collection on VHS.

After a weekend visit to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, they drop an exhausted Sabine off with her grandmother past nightfall. Christmas is the following week, and the street is alight with green and red bulbs. Mulder’s hand is moving to the ignition when she stills it with her own.

“What’s up, Scully?”

“Mulder, I’m thinking of asking for a transfer.” The words are out before she even realizes what she is going to say. He gapes at her, mute.

“Your priorities have shifted. You aren’t going to want to chase the truth with the same zeal, and I completely understand. Sabine needs you. But it’s not… I still have answers I need to find, and if we can’t look for them together, then maybe I should…”

“Scully, stop. Please. Did I give you the impression I was abandoning you? God, I could never…” He shakes his head with so much certainty, she begins to doubt her resolve.

“But, Mulder, you have other obligations now and…”

“The world could be ending tomorrow, Scully, and you’d still be my first priority. Yes, Sabine needs me. Yes, I’ve taken my foot off the gas at work, and if that’s left you feeling forsaken, then I’m truly sorry. But nothing, not the truth, not Sabine, none of it means anything without you. I thought you knew that. Sabine and Samantha, they are my blood… but, god, you’re my family, Scully. My fam-ily.”

His voice cracks, and she’s weeping openly with relief. His fingers clasp behind her neck and he draws her towards him, raining kisses and murmuring gratitude in her hair as flickering lights illuminate the dark around them.

7. Tomorrow is the dawn of the new millennium, no matter what Scully and the fiscal purists say. Watching Frank Black with his daughter makes him eager to get home to Washington. He's taking Sabine to the Air and Space Museum tomorrow, in what Scully teasingly claims is a boldface attempt to subvert her grounding influence, and what he calls father-daughter bonding and take-your-kid-to-work day. But first, with the threat of the Apocalypse curtailed, he has a little unfinished business to attend to. Six weeks ago he likened calling Scully his touchstone to a wedding vow, but he never got to kiss his bride.

She's watching Dick Clark as he approaches, his lame wing cradled tight against the butterflies in his belly. He's struck anew at how luminous she is, even under hospital fluorescents. He asks so much from her, and she demands so little in return. With Sabine's presence in their lives slowly becoming more normal, it's time to start clearing his debt. It's the work of many lifetimes, and he looks forward to never finishing.

As the apple drops, he leans into her, parting his mouth just enough to brush the sensitive flange of his inner lip against her. He feels the shocked intake of her breath against his cheek and certainty settles over him like a wool blanket. He's going to make this work, for all three of them.

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

Should I stay or should I go?

Summary: After Nancy and Steve finally end things, Steve finally realizes what he wants. So he puts it all on the line, because he’s done waiting and pretending he doesn’t want you. 

Word  Count: 2648

Song pairing: should I stay or should I go- the clash https://youtu.be/7r0iuoj-KNU

Authors note: Someone asked for a more dominant side of Steve and so here it is;) let me know what you think!

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that a relationship he knew had been dead for a long time had finally ended. Whatever it was, Steve knew he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

If there was anything this past year had taught him it was that you can’t wait, you miss so much when you wait….so he made his way towards you.

There you stood, next to the punch bowl. As Steve looked you up and down, he smiled to himself. He took off his shades, “Am I dreaming or are you really at a party right now?”.

Smiling you turned to him, “Want me to pinch you?”. Steve shook his head while a smirk formed upon his lips. He was leaning against the counter, “Well aren’t we in a good mood tonight?”.

Shrugging you said, “Well I was…”. Steve put his hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt by your joke. He took your cup from your hands and took a sip. Steve handed it back to you, “You know…I think you owe me for that one…how about a dance?”.

You raised an eyebrow, “And how about nanc?”. As you looked at his face you watched his whole expression change, and for a moment you could see the hurt in his eyes. Steve looked down, “Yeah…that ship finally sank…but you and I both know it was sinking for awhile”.

Trying to lighten the mood he added, “Thought we could dodge the iceberg but we just hit it dead on”. You knew that he was hurting, but to be fair you’d also known him and Nancy weren’t good for eachother.

You were close with Steve, and you could see that him and Nancy had just grown apart. Sure, when they were younger and things were simpler it made sense…but not anymore. You couldn’t explain it but something inside Steve had changed, and you liked it.

Truth be told, Steve Harrington had stolen your heart a long time ago. You didn’t want to ruin what you had with him so you hid your feelings for him. But as fate would have it, here he was asking you to dance.

You took his hand, “Well let’s hope you’re a lot better at dancing than you are at dodging icebergs”. Steve smiled and took your hand as you both made your way towards the dance floor. The problem was that you were at a high school party, which meant drunk idiots jumping around.

Steve didn’t hesitate, “I think I have a better idea than this…unless you’re a fan of drunk monkey dancing?”. You shook your head while laughing, and you followed him out of the party.

Walking beside him you asked, “So where does this better idea take place?”.  Steve laughed, “What have you already lost your faith in me?”. All too soon you breathlessly told him no, and hoped it didn’t sound as needy as you thought it had.

Steve wasn’t facing you, so you couldn’t see the affect your “no” had on him. For a moment he wanted to stop walking altogether, turn around, and put it all on the line. But Steve was waiting for the perfect moment.

After a couple minutes of walking you were finally at Steve’s car. Wearily you asked, “So this is it?”. Steve shook his head while clicking his tongue. He mocked your tone, “This is it? Come on (y/n) you gotta trust me”. He was messing around with things until he found what he was looking for.

Suddenly you heard music playing loudly through his car speakers, and you would’ve been concerned but Steve had parked in a now vacant lot. When he emerged from the car he smirked, “Yeah this will do”.

Steve extended his hand and mouthed the lyrics, “Darling you got to let me know, Should I stay or should I go?”. You shook your head but still took his hand, and Steve pulled you towards him.

If you say that you are mine, I’ll be here ‘til the end of time

He took both your hands in his, swinging your arms side to side. You were giggling watching how into this Steve was getting. He was even swaying his hips and head to the beat.

It’s always tease, tease, tease, You’re happy when I’m on my knees

When that part of the song came on Steve pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. Steve slowly moved his hips down, while bobbing his head to the beat. He was still holding onto one of your hands.

Joking you said, “You’ve got moves huh Harrington?”. Steve smirked while spinning you out. He winked, “Like you wouldn’t believe princess”. You felt your heart skip a beat, and as he pulled you back into his chest your heart started to beat even faster.

One day it’s fine and next it’s black, So if you want me off your back

Well, come on and let me know, Should I stay or should I go?

By now you were swaying your hips to the beat, your body pressed closely against his. Suddenly Steve’s hands moved to grip your hips, guiding them to move with his. Pressing your hands against his chest you looked into his eyes.

You felt months of pent up emotions flooding forward. Looking into his eyes was too much, so you turned and pressed your back against his chest. Still his hands held tightly onto your hips.

If I go, there will be trouble, And if I stay it will be double

Steve found himself becoming lost in you. The way your body moved perfectly with his, how perfectly his hands gripped your hips, it was all starting to build up. Steve became more daring, sliding one hand up and down your body.

Out of instinct you pressed a little bit harder against him as you rolled your hips. Steve’s breathing started to become more rapid as he felt all of the energy between you both. Softly he said to himself, “…the electricity”.

This indecision’s bugging me , If you don’t want me, set me free

Steve hadn’t felt like this in a long time, and for awhile he wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel it again. To his surprise you turned around, and he swallowed hard as your eyes met his. Softly you said, “Electricity?”.

For a moment he was scared, unsure of what to say to you, but then he realized it. A feeling like this comes once in a lifetime, and he’d sure as hell never felt it this intensely with Nancy.

So Steve finally put it all on the line, because he couldn’t waste another second where he didn’t have you. He tilted your chin up with his finger, “Can’t you feel it too?”. Steve licked his lips while he waited for your response.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Nodding your head you said, “Yeah…I feel it”. That was all he needed, finally Steve crashed his lips against yours.

The kiss was hungry, months of pent up tension melting away each time your lips touched. With his arms still wrapped around you Steve lead you back towards his car, only breaking the kiss when you both climbed into the back seat.

You were done waiting, done pretending that you’d wanted this so badly. So you pushed him onto his back and straddled him. Steve bit his lip, “Shit princess”. His little pet name for you drove you wild.

Smiling you ran your hands through his hair while kissing him once again. As you tugged lightly you felt him groan against your lips. Steve loved the feeling of your hands running through his hair.

Your hands fumbled as you both quickly tried to discard your clothing. Leaning back you slowly pulled your dress off and over your head. As Steve took in your nearly naked body his heart started to beat faster.

He licked his lips, “You’re so damn beautiful (y/n)”. Steve watched in awe as you brought your hands to your back, undoing your bra and letting it slowly fall off. He didn’t hesitate, quickly placing soft kissing down the valley of your breasts.

Your breath hitched as he took one of your nipples between his lips, sucking deeply. You arched your back leaning forward, “Oh fuck Steve”. The way his name sounded leaving your lips was like a prayer to him.

Steve pulled your body closer to his and his hands gripped your hips again. His mouth was working wonders against your skin and you moaned his name once again. Rolling your hips forward you begged, “Steve I need more”.

You felt him smile against your skin, “You have no idea what you do to me princess”. Steve cupped your face with both hands, kissing you passionately. Your hands quickly worked to take off his clothes.

When you looked at his bare chest you teased, “I guess I know why they call you the king”. Steve shook his head but found himself smiling, “You’re such a tease you know that?”. Together you laughed one last time before he started to kiss down your neck.

While his lips sucked the sensitive parts of your skin, one of his hands moved to tease you through your underwear. His fingers slid up and down your slit while he purred into your ear, “Is this what you want babygirl?”.

You never would’ve expected this side of Steve, but it was giving you butterflies in your stomach. Biting your lip you barely got out, “Yes”. Your breath hitched as you felt him slide your panties to the side.

Slowly he teased your clit, “that’s it babygirl”. You melted into his touch, letting his fingers work their magic. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he picked up his speed. Steve loved his affect on you, you were so intoxicating to him.

Steve was tracing patterns on your clit, and with each move of his fingers you felt bursts of pleasure. You moaned loudly, “Oh god”.

As he started to go faster you bucked your hips forward. If you eyes hadn’t been closed you would’ve seen his grin, “So eager…I love it”. By now you were moving your hips wildly, using his fingers to get you off.

Steve kissed below your jaw whispering in your ear, “Not yet princess”. He watched as your eyes slowly fluttered open, holding his gaze again. For a moment he was lost, caught off guard by how beautiful you looked.

He watched you smirk, “My turn then?”. Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying to downplay his nerves. Truth be told Steve couldn’t process the way you made him feel.

Half the time you brought out a side of him that he hadn’t known was there, and the other half of the time with just one look you could make him putty in your hands. So he licked his lips, and let you take control.

You pushed him backwards so he was now leaning against the car door. Moving back yourself, you pulled down his pants letting him slide off of them. When you pulled down his boxers you licked your lips as you saw his hard member spring forward.

Looking to Steve you saw his mouth was slightly open, he was watching you so intently. Having his full attention made you feel even more daring. Slowly you licked up his shaft, your mouth hovering over his tip.

While holding his gaze you flicked your tongue over his tip, and Steve let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in. You smiled to yourself, “Does that feel good?”.

Steve nodded his head but you wanted more. You kissed down his shaft, “Talk to me king”. His eyes went wide, hearing you call him that was a huge turn on.

He licked his lips, “It feels so fucking amazing babygirl”. That was all you needed, finally you took his length into your mouth. Steve groaned loudly as he watched you.

You started to bob your head up and down, taking in as much as you could. Steve leaned against the window, “Oh fuck”. His words encouraged you so you picked up the pace.

You started to bob your head quicker, and his swearing only increased. With your free hand you started to play with his balls, and Steve bucked his hips forward. Steve thought he would lose it, “Babygirl-”.

With a pop of your lips you took his member out of your mouth. Making your way back up to him you teased, “Not yet king”. Steve shook his head but pulled your body close to his.

He kissed you softly, “You’re going to be the death of me (y/n)”. You ran your hands through his hair, loving how needy he sounded when you did. You smiled against his lips when you felt his member pressing against you again.

Leaning back you took it in your hand, pressing it against your slit. Steve’s hands slid slowly up your thighs before he held tightly onto your hips. Closing your eyes you finally sunk down onto him.

You slowly rolled your hips forward, making the both of you moan loudly. With his grip on your hips Steve started to make you move faster. You pressed your hands against his chest, “Oh fuck Steve”.

Steve started to thrust upwards each time your hips met, and with each thrust you felt yourself getting closer. He was hitting your g-spot with each thrust, and you kept moaning out his name.

As Steve watched you ride him, he finally knew how he felt about you. You looked so beautiful like this, so effortlessly beautiful as you became lost in yourself. He started to move his hips faster, “I’m so close baby”.

Nodding your head you looked down at him, “Me too Steve”. Together you both picked up the pace, your bodies moving perfectly together.

You leaned down, bringing your body closer to his. Steve placed soft kisses up your neck, sucking at the more sensitive placed. He purred into your ear, “Cum for me princess, cum for me right now”.

You felt the knot in your stomach tightening, his words pushing you over the edge. Your hands were wrapped around his neck as you leaned even closer into him, your bodies pressed together.

This new angle letting him thrust deeper inside of you, and you knew you couldn’t hold back any longer. You closed your eyes, letting your orgasm wash over you. With each thrust it felt like waves of pleasure washing over your entire body.

Steve was right there with you, his own orgasm taking over. As Steve held tightly onto your hips, he finally let himself become fully lost in you. Steve gripped a fistfull of your hair, “That’s it babygirl”.

It felt like every nerve in his body was shaking with pleasure. All he could do was hold onto you tightly as the most intense feeling of pleasure shook throughout him. Together you both rode out your orgasms, and it took a couple seconds for you both to come back down.

When it was over you laid against his chest, his hand still tangled in your hair. Breathlessly he said, “I…I love you”. You sat up, scanning his face in disbelief. Steve smiled, “I think I always have”.

You beamed with happiness, kissing him to preserve this moment forever. Looking down at him you said, “I love you too Steve…and I know this ship won’t sink”.

Steve pulled you close to him again as he kissed you on the forehead. He wrapped one arm around you, “I sure hope so princess, I sure hope so”. In that moment Steve knew that he could never lose you.

[softsadgay]

***woah here comes what is essentially an essay about my body image issues/disordered eating and it’s kind of... rough so just heads up***

(for the sake of my own clarity of both writing reading this (esp since i don’t expect anyone else to), i’m doing a combo of stream of consciousness and formal writing.) 

I’ve gained a lot of weight in the past 2/3 of a year. Not anything too wild and I haven’t weighed myself in so long that I’m not even sure the exact number, but enough the point that I have had to buy a lot of new clothes because some of the stuff from a year ago no longer fits me/looks really unflattering in way it didn’t used to. 

I started junior year by moving into a new apartment, and I no longer had access to a gym or running track (my family has horrible knees, so i’m terrified of running on pavement). Cardio has been a BIG part of my weight and mental health management for the last four years. From mid-2014 to mid-2017 I was running an average of four days a week, often closer to five or six, with a view periods of exercising for at least two and a half hours daily and only exercising two or three times a week. A range, but always a consistent presence.

There were a lot of reasons why I made running a big part of my life, and it had good and bad consequences. Was I over-exercising for many periods of my life in order to lose weight? Absolutely. Did I lose an obscene amount of weight because of it? Not exactly. 

Most of my weight-loss occurred when I made a major change to my diet during my last semester of high school. I went vegan and ate moderate size meals at consistent times of day. It started changing my body instantly. It was rapid and was exacerbated by my hyperthyroidism. I was motivated to make that change to lose weight after I was cast as Jesus in Godspell and knew I’d be on-stage in my underwear for my entire first number.

As time went on, I wanted to lose more weight. Always convinced I was “still too fat.” This mystified a lot of people, so I quickly started phrasing it as “being healthy,” which people will accept as a reason to work out excessively while eating far less than an active person should to support their body.

However, exercise also had some amazing effects on my mental health (though obviously not in the body image and eating department). I went off medication about a year before I started exercising. My mood swings were constant and dangerous. I would be entirely bed-ridden for days. Other days I would be at 142% and bouncing off the walls. I had multiple episodes were my depression made me aggressive. It felt like being possessed. My mom remembers that period of my existence as being an entirely separate person from who I was before and after that year.

When I was exercising, I was being consistent enough for it be creating the chemical equivalent of a strong anti-depressant. Obviously I was still dealing with mood swings and really horrifying thought habits, but I was generally a lot more stable and happy. Working out was compensating for my brain.

I’d used food and over-eating to cope with my emotions and mental illness for many years leading up to this period. I never saw it that way, but in hindsight, it was absolutely an issue. It vanished temporarily when I changed my lifestyle. 

And then it came back. At first, only occasionally, with immediate horror afterwords. Triggers were varied, but often came from days were I had either particularly high emotion (feeling impervious to food) or incredibly low emotion or stress (a need for something comforting). It increased in frequency over the next two years, but was still fairly “controlled.” It was the minority. The rest of what I was doing in diet and exercise more than compensated for it. No one could tell it was happening, and the few people who had the details to put two and two together didn’t.

Over this period I would occasionally gaining a bit of weight, rarely noticeable to anyone but I was losing weight when I wasn’t gaining it. (I actually have a major anxiety around that. It’s been so long since I felt like I was doing anything other than gaining or losing weight. I never know how to stabilize and maintain.) And while my mental health wasn’t perfect by any means, I was overall doing okay. Some hopelessness, but I was moving along in life.

Then this year happened.

I wasn’t able to easily work out the way I’d been. I decided this would okay. I would eat a bit less than when I’d been active. I’d still do some in-home muscle routine things to keep myself a little active, and I’d rely on dance class to be the more rigorous activity. And for a period, this kind of worked. This period also had complications. There were two boys who I placed a lot of undue meaning on to validate me, neither of which were ready to validate themselves, much less another scared person. I also made a very dumb decision and got cast in my college’s production of Spring Awakening, which was incredibly triggering and stressful.

Suddenly my mental health was failing. I’d started drinking, never able to do so without having at least five or seven drinks, but averaging on ten. I was having mood swings again, though thankfully rarely as extreme as they were in high school. I was losing interest in things I cared about. I was regularly considering self-harm and suicide.

In my theory, my brain was freaking out. The things that truly used to help it function better, like exercise and routine, were gone. The things that I added to my life, like alcohol and boys and sex, were not giving it the consistent lift it needed. And my brain was searching for anything to get the endorphins it wasn’t getting. That’s when my diet changed again.

I decided I didn’t care about being vegan anymore, which is a valid decision on its own, but it was for the wrong reasons. I needed something to self-medicate with. Binging “healthy vegan” food was not satisfying enough. My brain needed more. So I stopped being vegan.

I was eating like someone who was going to die the next day. It was the kind of eating that got addicting quickly, especially since I have a disposition to addiction. It also didn’t do the job my brain indulged in it for. It gave an extremely brief feeling of freedom, before immediately switching to self-hatred and depression.

But my brain still needed something. For brief periods where I’d allow myself to drink again, alcohol would take over as the solution, but alcohol was a lot more intrusive and harder to hide, so food reigned as #1. And that’s how things were for several horrible months.

I was gaining weight consistently. Clothes started wearing different. I could see the change in my body, and a few other people did too.

And then it stopped again when I started dating the boy who would become my first boyfriend. I wanted to take better care of myself again, and the high of a new relationship supplemented needing a different regular coping mechanism. (To be clear though, the relationship was actually incredibly healthy and positive. It’s unfortunate that I wasn’t finding other sources of stability, but it was a positive source.) I stopped binging as regularly. I completely stopped drinking. I applied myself more in dance and all my classes. I ate more consciously, but not strictly. For two months, I was stable, and really happy and confident.

And then that high ended too. The boy started growing distant and I was losing steam. I starting binging more. I started drinking again. And then, for entirely unrelated and very good reasons, we broke up a little before the semester ended.

And that’s how we get to the last two months. No school or routine. A few brief periods of eating better and exercising, and then binging daily and occasionally getting drunk. And unsurprisingly, I’m incredibly unhappy.

And then in the past two or three weeks, I started getting on the horse again. Falling off, but then getting back on. It’s been five days of being on it now, and, though I may be a little optimistic, it feels like it’s going to stick this time. I found a nearby park to run at. I’m eating well, though perhaps a little restricted. I’m being more productive. My mental health is getting to a better place, and the effects of physical activity should get stronger over the next month.

Today I looked in app were I have a few progress photos from two periods of my time actively trying to lose weight. They don’t have dates and I don’t remember exactly how far apart they were taken, but I’m fairly certain I was taking a picture once a week. I remember being able to see the change when I took them, but being frustrated by how slow I was changing. Looking at them now, it’s terrifying (in every sense of the word) how fast my body is able to change if I give it the right variables.

I’m not above wanting to lose weight. And I don’t know if that’s good or not. I want to get back to the weight I was a year ago. I know I’ve never been satisfied, but I’d like to fit all my clothes again and feel good about myself again. If I’m truly happier and healthier, what’s wrong with wanting to lose weight?

I’m worried I’ll start the same cycle again. And that’s why I’m writing all this out for the first time in a coherent way. The last four years have been a incredible, if not terrifying, learning experience for how my body and mind work for and against each other. And that’s what I’m reassuring myself with. I’ve learned. The same thing can’t repeat because I’ve learned. I won’t go off the deep end again because I learned.

It’s a new horse and I’m a better rider now.

[g0ldpainted]

Gladiolus cheating on Fem!S/O

Hey c:

Here’s Gladio for this series! 

1st Part ; 2nd Part ; 3rd Part // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2 // Ravus cheating 

Words: 3750+

Genre: Angst, heartbreak, betrayal

Spoilers: None

Trigger warnings: Anger, verbally abusiveness, pregnancy, coma, cheating, explicit sexual act depicted briefly

Taming a beast was almost impossible. Gladiolus was such a beast. All the ladies were swooning over him, flirting with him whenever they could. No one cared about the fact that he had been dating his current girlfriend for over 6 years. Actually, the couple was beyond happy, completing each other seamlessly. But Gladio was still an untamable beast.

He was a charmer, couldn't resist flirting back, couldn't reject those females entirely. However, he always stayed faithful. So far at least.

Their relationship had been fairly rocky ever since his S/O fell pregnant. At first, it didn't change their lives all too much.. Until all the complications started. Her pregnancy was far from ideal. Morning sickness, back- and headaches, fatigue, abdominal cramps, high blood pressure - she had it all. Unfortunately, she also suffered from severe swelling. Face, feet, ankles, hands - they all had moments in which their size increased tremendously. After a check-up at her doctor, they diagnosed her with Preeclampsia. Therefore, their pregnancy was one with high risk. She was at high risk of losing her baby if she wasn't being careful. As result, she quit her job immediately. From there on out, Gladiolus was the only one earning money for them. He worked twice as hard, thinking of his future family as motivation.

The first weeks were difficult for both of them. His S/O had to get used to the pain she was almost constantly going through while Gladiolus had to get used to the lack of affection from their side. He was an extremely physical guy. Any and every physical touch was a reassurance to him that he was loved.. But she couldn't give him that. Sex was off entirely. When she was feeling decent, she at least managed to help him with his urges, took care of his not-so-little friend if it was necessary. To say she enjoyed pleasing him would be a lie. The continuous pain drowned her libido and every wish to receive and give pleasure. It was just something she did for him because she knew how important it was to him. The little praise afterward made up for it. He was thankful for her trying to not let her pregnancy affect their relationship too much. Truth was that it still took a huge toll on them. While Gladio was satisfied for those first few weeks, he eventually grew tired of her sloppy blow- or handjobs and started declining them. That she denied him giving her pleasure upset him, too. It eventually stopped feeling like a relationship to him simply because they had no physical contact other than some gentle kisses.

The happiness of expecting their first baby was overshadowed by lack of physical love.

Needlessly to say, they also started having arguments about it. The further she got in her pregnancy, the grumpier he got. Gladiolus even started calling her fat, giving the vibe of that she was completely undesirable. It's true that her weight was fluctuating. Preeclampsia was causing it.. And of course, her pregnancy. While Gladio was still fairly supportive most of the time, he seemed to distance himself more and more. He apologized for his behavior almost daily, regretting his spiteful words greatly, blaming his temper and work for stressing him out for it. She accepted all his apologies for the sake of their unborn baby. All she wanted was for their daughter to grow up in a safe family environment.

By now she was 7.5 months in. Finally at the third trimester. Her doctor was as far as to give her medicine to help her baby grow faster so they could induce labor as soon as possible. Gladiolus S/O was suffering greatly while he was most likely at work.. Or hanging with his friends. He was working as a hunter, it was the most beneficial. 

She just wanted this to be over, wanted to deliver her healthy baby and heal. Her body was exhausted. It was pure luck that she didn't suffer from a stroke or seizure yet because of all the extra stress her boyfriend caused. On the bright side, although Gladiolus was being quite ignorant of his girlfriend's state, he at least always brought her little gifts when he returned from a hunting job.. And he even called her every day if it was multiple-day job. Those moments where what gave her strength to believe in their relationship. 

It seemed to be falling apart at rapid speed - all because she wasn't into sex and instead, groaning about pain. The treatment she received helped but.. Didn't make it better. Her case was apparently very severe, yet no one could explain why. Gladio knew about it, always accompanied her to check-ups, yet he didn't seem to care all too much anymore. At least that's how she felt. 

The more distant he became, the sadder his S/O was. And when he started leaving for partying, her jealousy peaked. She was scared of losing him to someone else. He excused himself by claiming the chocobros wanted to catch up and that all their wives and girlfriends were fine with it - she shouldn't complain. But she hated this. And when she smelled different perfumes on him, she was infuriated. But he shook it off, claiming he met the girlfriends of his bros because they joined them and that it was a shame she didn't show up. Being the loving girlfriend she was, she believed him. But her trust was scraped. 

"Ever since he went out two days ago.. His phone's been vibrating constantly.." his S/O thought to herself, sitting on their couch and rubbing her baby bump gently - it was sensitive as heck, "He's showering.. Maybe I.. Should take a quick glimpse."

Looking around the room to ensure he really wasn't around, she carefully got up. Groaning, she bit her lip hard. The moving of her belly caused slight discomfort and walking on her swollen feet ached. It was another bad day. She was quick to pick up his smartphone. Luckily, Gladiolus didn't put in a code - it unlocked with a simple swipe. At first, nothing seemed suspicious.. Until she went through his recently send messages. Multiple females were in there. 

"That doesn’t mean a lot.. He's always been famous with ladies - he usually blocks their number, though.." she thought to herself, "Maybe he forgot.."

But the second she clicked on each message, her stomach dropped. They were all flirting with him - which she would've tolerated if they hadn't sent nudes. And even videos of them masturbating. One quick glimpse into his phone's gallery was enough to see that he had been interested in a lot of different girls. Tons of nudes greeted her. None of them of her own body - she wasn't even on his phones background images.

"He.. He would've deleted them if he didn't like them.." she whispered, going back to the messages as she started feeling worse.

She ended up finding out that he even demanded those… they had phone sex.

"What are you doing?!" Gladiolus snapped, only a towel wrapped around his lower half.

Jumping from the sudden raised voice, she almost dropped his phone on the floor but caught it last minute.

"Did you go through my phone!?" he shouted, a deep frown present on his forehead as he stomped over to her and tore the phone out of her hands.

"Who are those girls?!" she replied, using all her energy to raise her voice, too.

"That's none of your business!" he shouted in their face, "You don't go through someone's phone!" 

"You're my boyfriend, of course, it's my business who you're sexting with!" she argued, frowning as well. 

"Oh c'mon, it was just fun" he groaned, rolling his eyes.

"They sent you nudes!" she shouted, clenching her jaw as she felt a stinging pain erupting from her stomach - it was because she was too emotional, "You.. Wanted those nudes. And masturbation videos."

"You should be grateful it's only photos and videos - I didn't have actual sex with them even though that would've been tons better than just waiting for your sorry ass" he growled, squeezing the phone in his hands tightly as he stared into his girlfriends eyes, "It's like watching porn and you don't care about that either."

Her eyes widened at that. Was that a threat? A note? It hurt her to know that he was admitting to having phone sex with them and at the same time telling her to be glad he didn't actually sleep with them. Little did she know that he actually lusted for those girls and hoped for real sex with them. The reference to porn made her feel even worse about herself. 

"I don't want you to have any contact with those women" she calmly said, lowering her head slowly.

"And I don't want you to rummage through my phone!" he replied, raising his voice again.

"Go through my phone if it makes you feel better" she whispered, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone, even unlocking it for him.

A picture of them kissing and one of them hugging was her background. A picture of better times.

"Fuck that!" he slapped her phone away, making it fall to the floor with full force.

At his sudden outburst of anger, she started sobbing. Before her pregnancy, she would've been able to deal with it but now that she was in pain, physically weak and going through intense mood swings, she couldn't help herself.

"Don't you love me? Am I not good enough?" she whispered.

"Oh come the fuck on, if I wouldn't love you, I would've left ages ago" he replied, sighing, getting annoyed with them.

"Then why are you looking at other girls? Why are you messaging them with such lewd intentions?" she asked, trying hard to hold back any tears, "I know you have nudes of me, why don't you use those to ma-" 

"You piss me off.. I'll go head out and meet with the guys" he cut her off, turning around and walking off, leaving her standing there. 

"No! I want an answer!" she yelled, storming after him and pulling on his arm, "Now!" 

"Because they're hot, okay? Everything about them is smoking hot and it's a nice change to not be looking at your body all the time!" he yelled back, pulling his arm out of their grip, "You didn't want any physical contact with me, so at least let me have fun on my own! It's not like I'm cheating!"

His ignorance and selfishness finally caused tears to fall. It's been a few days since she last shed tears.. But those were also because of him. He made it seem like this was her fault.. He didn't seem to understand that he body was inflamed and that she was carrying their baby.

"I'm pregnant.." she whispered in defeat, "My entire body hurts.. I'd appreciate if you'd be considerate of that."

Gasping he glared down at her: "Oh, I am! Every single day I work my ass off for you and our daughter. Then I come home and just have more work here because you can't do a thing right - at least let me have my goddamned fun!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned around and headed back to their couch. Her legs were beginning to fail her and her vision was blurring. The way her heart raced was hurting faintly, too. Something was off. She was stressed out.. And hurt from his words. She felt betrayed.

Gladiolus stormed into their bedroom to get dressed, didn't bother about how she was struggling to breathe. Placing both of her hands on her baby bump, she tried to relax - for her daughter. Taking deep breaths, she attempted to make her body relax but her hands started swelling instead. While her boyfriend got ready, she felt pathetic about herself. Her appearance, her disease, her pain. And she was scared, scared of the next weeks. Their doctor already warned them that he'd induce her pregnancy at exactly 37 weeks. 7 weeks were left until that'd happen. Chances were high her body would go into labor sooner, though. One thought lead to the other and she just crumbled on the couch, crying. Although Gladio claimed to be loving her, she didn't believe that. The guy she fell in love with loved her, supported her endlessly.. But this guy was just harmful, angry, upset and inconsiderate.

"I'll leave now" he announced, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pants along with his wallet, not once looking at the crying mess on their couch.

For a few seconds, she didn't say a thing, she couldn't. Right when he was about to close the door, she turned around and looked at him.

"Please don't.." she whined, "I…-.. I d-don't fe… feel good."

"Take a bath or something, I'll be back in an hour or two" he groaned, not even bothered to look at her.

"Pl-..please.. No" she stuttered, wanting to walk over to him but her legs refused to carry her weight.

"See you later" he coldly mumbled, closing the door afterward.

That was the final thing she needed to feel pushed off the edge. This was the first time he didn't even bother to check on her before leaving. She figured she shouldn't have been noisy but she was still going through a risky pregnancy.. She expected him to care. And she also couldn't believe that he didn't apologize about his female contacts. Some may consider it cheating, some don't.. But she did. Those were real people he actively asked for nudes and videos - not someone earning money with it. To be angry about this and highly suspicious seemed legit to her. But she wished she could just turn off her emotions - for the sake of not stressing her baby out.

In those 6 years they had been dating, they sure fought every now and then. Most times, both were too stubborn to give in so their fighting usually escalated. Stuff was thrown around, hateful words were yelled in each other's faces. But it was fine, their makeup sex was incredible. None of them ever cried because of it - but she was vulnerable for now.

"This entire pregnancy has been terrible.. The pain, the fights,.. I didn't think it'd go this way" she thought to herself, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, "He was so happy when he found out.. And now he.. He's not here and he complains all the time."

With each minute, her head felt more like it was about to explode. She had a terrible headache - or even a migraine - and her heart was about to burst from her chest. It all just kept getting worse. But the moment her vision started to blur and her face began to swell up, she knew she had to call someone.

But her phone wasn't in her pocket anymore.

Panicking, she hastily started looking around the area. It took her a few minutes to remember that Gladiolus slapped it onto the floor.

"Shit.. Hopefully it's.. Okay" she thought, slowly getting up, still searching for it.

Eventually, she finally saw it. Her stomach was twisting and turning while she tried to bend down towards it. But without warning, she felt dizzy, lost her balance and fell forward. Luckily, she managed to catch herself before she crashed on her baby bump. But now she was panicking even more.

"Oh god.. That was so close.." she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

After sitting down on her bum, she took her now shattered phone. Unlocking her phone and finding the telephone button was harder than she thought it could be. Not only was her vision becoming worse, moving her fingers was insanely difficult.

"Something's wrong.. Shit" she cursed under her breath.

Finally, she seemed to have found the recently called tab and just clicked on the first name. She couldn't read it, her vision was shaking and was way too blurry. Little did she know that she accidentally face timed her boyfriend instead of just making a simple call. And he picked up. Unintentionally.

"Ugh it's nothing important, ignore it. Keep going, we don't have a lot of time" he ordered the women in front of him to continue giving attention to his not-so-little friend.

Throwing the phone aside, it landed on a pillow.. Perfectly showing off what exactly was going on. Two females were licking and sucking on his dick. He stood before them. They both teased him, fondled with his balls as well. All of them were naked. At first, his S/O didn't understand what was going on.. Didn't want to believe what she thought was happening. But when Gladiolus started moaning.. Her heart finally broke.

Rapidly blinking, her vision improved a tiny bit.. Enough for her to actually see it. Her naked boyfriend face-fucking the females she saw on his phone. They took turns, were both hungry for him. Her headache increased and increased, the pressure on her head eventually feeling unbearable. She couldn't look away, couldn't move either.. Her eyes were locked on the scene.

"Ugh! Fuck, you're amazing" Gladiolus moaned before he came over both their faces.

Without saying a word, he pulled both of them up, kissing each briefly before pushing one down onto her back and the other one on top on all fours. He squeezed her butt with both of his hands before rubbing his shaft along both of their cores, coating himself with their wetness. For a few seconds, he just thrusted in between them, delicately rubbing along their buds to pleasure them, too. They were all moaning softly. 

Meanwhile, his pregnant girlfriend slumped to the side. Her body suddenly fell to the right. She hit her head on the ground. Her left hand was still clutching onto the phone which so happened to fall right in front of her face.

"So many holes to chose from .. Ugh. I wanna claim them all" Gladio proclaimed, running his hands along both of the girls entrances, "I'm going to claim them all.. But where do I start?"

His S/O sobbed, hoping he'd hear - but he didn't. 

"Please.. Ho-home" she whispered, unable to raise her voice and speak properly. 

Again, no one heard. She witnessed how her boyfriend started thrusting into some strange female while fingering the other. Tears ran down her face while her eyes widened. While he was having fun.. She was having a stroke. For a moment, everything hurt.. But then it all stopped. She lost control of her body.

"Harder!" one of the females demanded and he happily obliged. 

Although she lost control of her body.. She was very much conscious of what was happening. She saw it all. She saw how her boyfriend enjoyed taking care of two females at the same time. The slapping sounds, the squishing, the moans, the groans. Everything. It was like she was there, like he was cheating right in front of her eyes.

"I've always dreamed of a threesome with two sexy girls.. Ugh, shit.." Gladiolus admitted, cursing as he increased his thrusting speed.

He held his word and claimed every possible entrance those girls could give. It took forever. He came two more times until he was satisfied and no longer feeling sexually frustrated. All the while his girlfriend was clinging on to her life. She zoned out, just stared at the screen and watched.

"We have to do this again.." one of the girls breathed out, laying on the bed in attempt to calm down.

"Oh yes, please" the other one begged, agreeing.

"We'll see.." Gladiolus shrugged.

"Your girlfriend won't be pleased about this" one of them whispered, cleaning her body off of several juices. 

"Mmh" he agreed, biting his lip hard.. As if he was showing regret. 

"Wasn't she watching this entire time?" the other girl wondered.

"Watching?" he repeated.

"Yeah.." she replied, pointing up towards this phone, "Or is that a screensaver?" 

Once Gladiolus saw his phone and that their facetime call had been going for over an hour, his eyes widened.

"Shit" he exclaimed, quickly picking up his phone, "Can you hear me?" 

She didn't reply, only blinked occasionally.

"Fuck.. Can you smile?" he began to panic, feeling beyond guilty for what he just did now that he saw his girlfriends tear-stained face.

No response. She couldn't move.

"Shit.. Shit shit" Gladiolus repeatedly cursed, "Someone diall 911! She's having a stroke! And she's pregnant!" 

Only one of the girls reacted, threw her phone over to him. He immediately called an ambulance over before he ran home. By the time he arrive, the ambulance already carried her out and the car was ready to drive off. He barely hopped into it.

Once they finally arrived at the hospital, she had already suffered brain damage. To help her body heal and relax, they put her into an induced coma. They had to run quite a few scans to check what exactly happened and give her the best possible treatment. 

"I'm so sorry.. I'm so incredibly sorry.." Gladiolus kept whispering as he sat beside her hospital bed, holding one of her hands between his, "I should've been there. I should've listened to you. This is my fault.. I'm so sorry."

Lucky for them, their daughter was fine. She didn't suffer any damage. His S/O in return lost her ability to walk and her entire right side was paralyzed. The day they woke her up, they realized she also couldn't speak, didn't quite remember how to. She had Aphasia. Her life had changed for the worse. Most days she spent crying - after all, she still had preeclampsia, too. His S/O was now a broken woman, not even slightly resembling who she used to be. But unlike before, Gladiolus supported her. He paid for all her bills, her therapy, medication, and treatment. But most importantly, he spent time with her. 

The second he realized what he had done to the one he sincerely loved, he broke all contact with any other female and deleted all photos that weren't her. He was grateful for the second chance he was given - even though no one could guarantee that she wasn't suffering from memory loss as well and simply didn't remember that he cheated. Gladio regretted what he did just to get some stress relief. He wanted to better himself, become the man she deserved. And aside from that, he wanted to be a great father for the daughter that he almost lost too.

Masterlist ;  1st Part ; 2nd Part ; 3rd Part  // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2 // Ravus cheating

[hazeleyedleto]

Matters Of The Heart -Part 3-

       You’re singing Joyride by Roxette into your round hairbrush while rocking out with your music on full blast, taking advantage of a rare Saturday off to give your apartment a much needed, thorough cleaning that you’d been able to manage in quite a while. It’s not like there were dishes growing mold stuffed under your bed or couch cushions, but most of your wardrobe did happen to be laying all over your furniture in every room, with half of your bedroom floor acting as a laundry hamper, the actual white one in the corner spilling over. Saying that you’d been insanely busy lately is a very big understatement.

       Your phone dinging with a new notification spoils the moment, disturbing you from the best part of the song, and you roll your eyes while tossing the brush into it’s proper drawer. Mumbling, “It better be good”, you take the few steps to your phone and picked up, clicking on the video, watching in amusement as Tomo records Jared skateboarding down the railing of a stairwell. It looks all good and well until his feet slip from the board and he lands on his crotch on the railing, does a complete flip, and lands on the pavement on his back with a loud thud. There’s complete silence for a few seconds before Jared sticks his thumb up in the air and yells, “I’m okay”. Tomo and Shannon can be heard laughing their asses off in the background, before Shannon walks in front of the camera with the skateboard exclaiming that it’s his turn.

       "Fucking idiots", you chuckle and set your phone back on the counter, turning around to get started on the bathroom closet. You refold the towels and washcloths, arranging them all back into a neat pile before removing the contents of the second shelf, where a weird feeling begins stirring in the pit of your stomach. You look at the box of tampons and sanitary napkins while chewing on your thumb nail, unable to recall the last time you needed to use those feminine products. Fear grips at your chest so tightly you forget to breathe for a minute, and you end up backing into the wall where your mind starts to put together pieces of a wayward puzzle.

       Small changes you’ve been noticing begin to make sense, like the almost ever present upset stomach you’ve been experiencing, but chalked up to an acid issue, figuring you’d been consuming too much caffeine. Flying back and forth from Los Angeles to San Francisco three times a week to help your boss set up the new art gallery was stealing a lot of your energy. Of course, you’d gained some weight, but then again you had binged on ice cream for those couple of weeks, and these days you’re not exactly taking the time to eat properly. A lot of your meals consist of whatever you can get your hands on first, mainly chips, cookies, pretzels, and things like that from a vending machine. There was also your mood swings, to which you assumed were from the lack of sleep combined with the uncertainty of how your relationship with Shannon would change once he was married.

       Looking down to your tummy, a wave of relief washes over you at not noticing it being any bigger, but there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind and you have to know what’s going on. Neglecting the rest of your cleaning spree, you head out to the closest pharmacy, returning in twenty minutes.

       An agonizing one hundred and twenty seconds pass while you pace the bathroom floor, silently debating the presence of God to yourself. Your family had never been religious, but at this point you start praying to some higher being for insight, along with negative results on the pregnancy test. It’s not like you don’t want kids someday, but you’ve been through enough lately, and someone surely needs to have mercy on you, right?

       The alarm goes off, letting you know it’s time to check the white stick sitting on the counter next to the toilet, nearly giving you a stroke. With apprehension, you advance to the test, where your eyes widen at the bright pink plus sign staring back at you. All strength seems to disappear from your legs and you plummet to the bathroom floor, shock beginning to settle in. 

************************

       As if being knocked up by your best friend who’s engaged, and keeping it to yourself for several weeks while you weigh your options wasn’t enough, last night at the rehearsal dinner for the wedding, you watched Shannon and Emma together. She had never been anything but nice to you, had never done anything to Shannon to make him question his relationship with her, and he seemed filled with joy when he was in her presence. So, why did you develop a rapid dislike for your best friend’s fiance, and get irritated everytime she touched him? Each time she laughed, he smiled and his eyes twinkled. It was as if he lived for her. Cheerfulness hung in the air around them, and there wasn’t a single reason in the world for you to detest Emma, but here you were, wishing she and Shannon had never met.

       It dawned on you, hitting you like a ton of bricks while you watched them together the previous night, that you’re in love with Shannon, and Emma was getting the future you yearned for. Shannon was truly happy though, and you couldn’t wish anything more than that for him. Pushing your own desires to the side, you formulated a plan, finally coming to a decision about what to do with the shit show that had been tossed at you within the past three months.

******************************

       It’s the next day, the afternoon of the wedding where you take a few extra minutes sitting in the car you rented for the day, giving yourself a pep talk and gathering your courage before going into the church. You’re strong. You’ve got this. Two hours, tops, Monique. Just get yourself through it and then you can fall apart all you want.

       After giving your appearance one last check over in the mirror and not coming up with any more excuses to procrastinate, you get out and go inside. Jared smiles upon seeing you enter. “You look good, Monique.” You accept his kiss on your cheek and follow him to where the groom and groomsmen are gathered.

       "And just who is this handsome stranger?“, you try to keep the mood light and playful, after taking special recognition in just how good Shannon looks in his tuxedo.

       "Only the best friend to this stunning lady”, he kids back.

       Out of nowhere you’re hit with a whirlwind of emotions, sadness being the most prominent, forcing you to close your eyes while clenching your teeth together, waiting for the sudden unwelcome tears to pass. When you open them, it’s to three curious onlookers. You fan your face with your hand, somewhat embarrassed and swipe at your cheeks. “Sorry, guys. I don’t mean to act like such a girl.”

       Jared comes to your side and rubs your back comfortingly, while Tomo claps a hand on your shoulder. “I think weddings make everybody cry”, he pipes in with his two cents.

       "It’s not everyday that my best friend is getting married", you smile weakly at Shannon, knowing that this is one of the last interactions you’re ever going to have with him. A couple more wet drops trickle from the corners of your eyes and you brush them away quickly. “I’m just really happy for you”, you press your lips together and pause before continuing, trying to keep your shit together. “You’re going to have an amazing life with Emma, and that’s all I can wish for someone as incredible as you.”

       In a few steps, Shannon’s in front of you, enveloping you in a bear hug. “Things won’t change. I promise I’ll still be here for you no matter what”. You squeeze him tighter with guilt before stepping away, knowing that if he was aware of what you were keeping from him, he would be quick to take back those words. He looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Mo? You’re pretty shaky.” You didn’t even realize that until he pointed it out. Your hands are definitely trembling.

        You assure him with a smile so fake that you’re sure you’d have a good chance at winning an Oscar for, even though you’ve never been an actress. “Yeah. Just kinda nervous. You know, being up in front of people isn’t really my thing.” For one, the purple bridesmaid dress that you’re wearing isn’t your normal type; being strapless and skin tight, so you’re not feeling all that confident. Then, paranoia has been rearing it’s ugly head since you’ve arrived, terrifying you that someone will notice your slowly growing baby bump. And last but not least of course, you sincerely don’t like standing out at social events, even though Shannon and Emma are guaranteed to be the center of attention, and not you; but there’s not much solace in that fact.

       "YOU’RE nervous?!“, Shannon jokes.

       Before any more conversation can be had, one of the ushers comes in, announcing that it’s time to get things started.

**************************************

       By some miracle, you made it through the ceremony, where your heart shattered into a million pieces as the priest pronounced them husband and wife, and Shannon was told to kiss his bride. As much as it hurt, a little part of you needed to see it with your own eyes to confirm that your plan was the right decision.

       After the second worst part was over, it didn’t seem to take nearly as long for the wedding photographer to take pictures, but maybe that’s because you were lost in your thoughts at what would take place later.

       Once everyone in the wedding party is dismissed and given an hour to meet back up for the reception, you give Shannon one last glance before climbing in your rental car, letting the sight of his head hanging back, eyes crinkling at the edges, and his mouth opened wide in laughter be your last memory of him.

       You drive back to the car rental place, exchanging theirs for yours, which is stuffed full of your personal belongings. Bittersweet tears cascade down your face as you repeatedly slam your heel down on the screen of your cell phone, not stopping until there are thousands of fragments and shards of glass littering the parking lot.

       Satisfied that you’ve cut off all ties of communication with your old friends, you slide in behind the steering wheel and start the ignition, ready to get started on your new life.

oh my poor heart

why 

she can stay

Buttercup can be the baby daddy

Noo Shan’s gunna crai

noo

*Sads*

@fyeahproudglambert

[crankpendletonplays-blog]

Lay it on me- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: This is a continuation of "Wipe it off of me", reader wants to try some stuff out with her boyfriend ;-D

(Read Part 1 )

Warnings: THERES SO MUCH SIN THAT EVEN HOLY WATER CANT SAVE ME. AVERT YOUR EYES, SMALL CHILDREN.

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

The next day after what happened with Jughead, I immediately went to Veronica. She was my best friend, and I trusted her completely with my life, so I also trusted the fact that she would explain to me what the hell I should be doing when it comes to.....things like this.

"Veronica, I just, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about all this kinky stuff, but I know that if there's somebody I'm comfortable enough with, it's him, And Jughead, sometimes with the way he is, he, he..." I trailed off, crossing one leg over the other on Veronica's mattress.

"Turns you on?" Veronica asked, a giggly tone in her voice as she spun around in her vanity chair to look at me.

"Yes." I admitted, heat spreading across my cheeks quickly.

"Girl, I get what you mean, every time I see Betty in that cheer uniform-" Veronica dramatically draped herself over her chair, fanning herself with her hand. " my gay ass heart just can't handle it." I rolled my eyes before standing up and swatting her in the arm.

"I'm serious, Ronnie! Jughead does.. Things to me! Things I'm not used to feeling! Things I seriously don't like-" I cut myself off, groaning loudly in sexual frustration, and flopping back down on to Veronica's bed face up. My arms sprawled out across the duvet and I sighed, turning my head to look at my friend now looking down at me.

" He's going to be the death of me, Ronnie. He really is."

"Cheer up sunshine. Let me show you a few things first."

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

I had left Ronnie's house with a lot of ideas, and I planned to use them this weekend. The knowledge she had given gave me somewhat a surge of confidence, and I was positive that the rain check I had made with Jughead would be worth it. It was the next weekend when I finally acted upon my ideas.

My mom was going away for the weekend, which meant I would have the house all to myself.The last bell had rang, signaling to the students that they had just been relinquished their freedom and were free to leave the torturous hell that was Riverdale High (ok, maybe it wasn't that bad, but I'm a drama queen). I saw Jughead standing in front of his locker, rummaging through It while Archie leaned against the locker beside him, hands moving as he told Jughead something. I quickly moved from in between Betty and Veronica, quickly making my way to my boyfriend. I grabbed his shoulder as he stood facing away, pulling him down backwards so my lips brushed against his neck, and whispered.

"My house, tonight. I wanna make good use of that rain-check." I let go of Jughead, my hand pushing him slightly and his body sprang back in to his previous position, his mouth open. I was halfway down the hall when he turned around, and I just giggled before winking and blowing him a kiss.

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

Instead of meeting Jughead at Pop's, I went straight home, checking to make sure my mom had left for her trip. When I saw the empty driveway, I knew I was in the clear. I ran inside and up to my room, dropping my bag and trying to think of my next move. I figured taking a shower was good, so I took a quick one, making sure to shave even though I had done so a couple nights ago. I got out, towel-drying my hair and brushing my teeth before grabbing my nicest pair of bra and underwear. I wasn't a huge lingerie person, but my mom had bought me a couple nice sets for my birthday, which I was now extremely thankful for.

I threw on a cami and a pair of (extremely short) shorts afterwards, before brushing my hair out and spraying a little perfume. When I was done, I went back down stairs.I occupied myself by getting a little something to drink, and messing around on my phone. I started to almost worry that Jughead wouldn't show up, and my head started to get the best of me. What if he didn't want this? What if I freaked him out and potentially ruined our relationship?

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, and I padded towards it, unlocking the bolt and swinging it open to see Jughead. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, his head raising to look at me. His eyebrows raised as he took in my appearance.

"Is your mom home?" He asked, stepping inside and locking the door behind him.

"No, she's gone for the weekend. Business trip."

"Good." Jughead quickly had me pinned against the door, his hands wrapping around the back of my thighs and lifting me so my lower body was wrapped around his waist. His lips went to mine, kissing me roughly. My hands went around his neck, knocking his hat off when my fingers curled in to this hair. I tugged lightly and Jughead groaned against my lips. I broke apart from him, panting heavily.

"Do you uh, do you want something to eat?" I asked him, mentally face palming myself. Jughead laughed, his head falling in to the crook of my neck.

"Sure, what's on the menu?" Jughead responded, lifting his head to look at me. I had an idea to fix the mood I just killed, bringing my lip between my teeth.

"Me." Jughead looked taken aback for a second before a smug look took over his face.

"Hmm, dessert first. I like that idea." Jughead leaned back down to kiss me, his lips on mine only for a second before trailing down my jaw and to my neck. Jughead began to litter my neck with dark, purple bruises, his body pressing in to mine. Jughead's hands traveled down my body, his fingers slipping under my shirt. My breath hitched at the feeling of his warm hands on my cold skin, gripping at my waist firmly.

"M-maybe we should- we should go upstairs." I panted, my breath heavy. Jughead adjusted his grip on my thighs before complying to my suggestion, stumbling a bit to find the stairs.

"You're going to break your neck." I giggled, clinging to his shoulders for dear life.

"Don't undermine my masculinity." Jughead pouted, climbing up the staircase with me still in his arms. I laughed at the clumsiness of my boyfriend as he actually managed to make it up the stairs, kicking my door open. Jughead dropped me down on to my bed, my back bouncing against the cool mattress. I sat up, reaching out and gripping Jughead's jacket and tugging it off of him.

"Eager, are we?" Jughead taunted, helping me pull his jacket off. I rolled my eyes, my hands now going to the sweater underneath his jacket. I pulled it over his head to be met with another shirt.

"What is it with the layers?!" I groaned, my hands now working on getting the short sleeved shirt off. "Really, Forsythe, I thought when I invited you over, you would get the memo to wear less clothing."

"Unless you wanted me to be a popsicle stick by the time I made it here, that wasn't happening." Jughead retorted, his hands going to my tank top." Although, I'm pretty sure I woulda been warm in a matter of moments anyways." Jughead leaned down, his teeth biting gently at the skin on my neck, making my breath hitch in my throat. Jughead pulled my tank top off my body, his hands running down my sides and to my hips before gripping them tightly and pulling me closer to his body.

Jughead and I had had sex only a couple of times, the first time obviously being an awkward and romantic mess, and the second time almost being caught by Archie and Betty, who happened to live across the street from me.Jughead and I weren't huge on sex, it wasn't something we wanted to do 24/7 like a lot of the kids at our school, but the both of us had so much pent up sexual frustration lately that we were seconds away from creating tears in our remaining clothes.

Jughead grabbed the waistband of my shorts, slipping them down my thighs. I kicked them off before pushing Jughead over and down on to my bed. I unbuttoned the top of his skinny jeans, pulling them down his legs quickly before straddling Jughead, grinding down in to his hips. Jughead groaned, raising his hips to meet mine and I held them down with my hands, grinding my hips down harder on to him.

"Fuck." Jughead moaned, his breath becoming heavier. I felt him get harder underneath me and I grinned, glad I was getting the reaction I wanted. I sat up, grabbing one of my scarves hanging off my bed frame and toying with it in my hands.

"You wanna try something?" I looked down at my boyfriend, his eyes wide and fixed upon the fabric slipping between my fingers.

"Lay it on me." Jughead smirked and I grinned, taking his wrists in my hands. Jughead looked confused as I tied his hands to my bedpost, looking up at me.

"To be honest, I thought the roles would be reversed when you asked." He chuckled, relaxing under my body.

"We've got the whole weekend, babe." I reached behind my back, unclasping my bra and letting it fall off my shoulders. I flung it aside, my hands now traveling down my boyfriend's body and running over his hard-on, hidden by the fabric of his boxers. I cupped it lightly before moving away.

"Do you really have to be a tea-ease." Jughead groaned when my hand dipped under the elastic, wrapping my hand around him firmly. I slowly pumped my hand up and down, Jughead's breathing becoming rapid. I pulled my hand down, my fingers pulling his boxers off and slipping my underwear off after. I leaned over Jughead's body, grabbing a condom from the drawer of my nightstand.

I took the end of the foil package between my teeth, ripping it open. I was met with the gross taste of lube and a disgusted look swept across my face quickly.

"Why didn't you just.... Open it with your hands??" Jughead tilted his head, stifling a laugh at my reaction to the flavorless substance.

"Veronica said it'd be sexier." I scoffed, pulling the condom out of the package." Last time I take her advice."

"Wait, you went to Veronica for advice on sex?" Jughead sat up a bit. I pushed him back down with my hand, looking shocked at my surprise burst of dominance.

"Jughead, I'm literally about to sit on your dick. Please don't ruin the mood." I pinched the tip of the condom, rolling it down Jughead's penis. Jughead laid back down, eyes wide and looking at me. My knees went to either side of Jughead hips, my hand guiding him as I slowly sank down on to him. My hands went to my chest, my lower body feeling a bit tight and uncomfortable. When my thighs reached Jughead's hips, I stopped, giving myself a moment to adjust before slowly beginning to rise up and sink back down on to him. I tried to keep a steady pace, my legs burning as I grinded down on to Jughead's dick.

Jughead's uneven breathing turned in to small groans and my hands went down his chest, my fingernails leaving scratch marks down his stomach. I began to go faster, already feeling worn out. Jughead's hair was already starting to stick to his forehead, and my chest was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. I painted, picking up the pace even more and going as fast as I could.

"Baby, baby untie me." Jughead panted, wriggling his arms that were suspended over his head. I paused, leaning over and untying the knot of my scarf. When Jughead was free he immediately sat up, his arms wrapping around my body as he thrusted in to me. My head fell in to the crook of his shoulder, my nails dragging down the muscles in his back.

"F-fuck, Forsythe, I-I'm-" my body tensed, the fuzzy feeling in my lower body and the twitching of my abdomen telling me I was close. Jughead flipped us over so I was on my back, his arms holding him up as he pounded in to me at a rapid pace.

My orgasm hit me like an oncoming train, my nails now digging deep in to Jughead's skin and my back arching. My vision was blurry, colors and stars clouding my sight. Jughead came a few moments later, collapsing on top of my body. My arms went around his neck, my hands playing with the ends of his hair as I tried to calm my breathing.

Jughead eventually pulled out of me, his body leaving mine for a moment to discard the used condom before grabbing his sweater. He climbed back on to the bed, his hands pulling my body up in to a sitting position before pulling the sweater over my head.

"You know, I can dress myself. I'm not five." I teased, pulling my arms through the sleeves of the long sweater. The end of the fabric went to my knees, reminding me of how tiny I was compared to my beanstalk of a boyfriend.

"I know." Jughead was standing up, his boxers now on and his shirt slipping over his head. I raised my arms up, making grabby hands at him.

"Well if you're going to treat me like I'm 5, then I demanded to be carried to the kitchen." I pouted. Jughead turned to me, a grin on his face.

"As you wish." Jughead's arms went under my body, listing up like I was a feather. I squealed, clinging to him as he kicked my door open.

"So, why the kitchen?" Jughead asked, now carrying me back down the stairs he had carried me up about an hour ago.

"Well, I made dinner, and then after we ate, I thought we could test how sturdy the island in my kitchen is." I bit my lip, looking at Jughead.

"I'm honestly convinced that I died and I have gone to heaven." Jughead shook the fringe out of his face, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to mine.