#I should be sleeping but I love Laura too much

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Logan and Wade with shy gn s/o please?

I’m going to assume separate unless told otherwise as poly relationship between Wade/Logan and reader would be cool too, but again unless specified I’m just going to assume it’s separate.

Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

Wade found your shyness adorable but found your reactions to his teasing and flirting.

And he abuses the shit out of that to his hearts content.

Mouse was a nickname that you were given almost immediately from the moment you met as you were quiet and cute as one too that to Wade it just fit you perfectly.

Wade; stop being so fucking cute!

You: huh?

Wade: you heard me! It should be illegal to be as cute as you! You should be locked up for the thing you do to me, but I’d rather keep ahold of the details because half of them might make you faint little mouse.

You: oh. 😶����

Wade will make it a tradition to take you by surprise, whether it be by randomly kissing you, hugging you from behind, playfully smacking your ass, it didn’t matter because your tendency to whine his name out in embarrassment ‘waaaaddde!’ Before hiding your face in his chest as he laughs and whispers teasing words into your ear that only makes your flustered state worsen.

Wade didn’t mind that you were shy, he really didn’t as he found it to be one of the many things he loved about you and wanted to protect, he didn’t want you to feel as though you should have to change to better fit him when he was more content with you being you.

He’s never had as much fun nor laughter in his life like he did when he was with you, and Wade considered himself lucky to have someone as soft and sweet as you that he often times thought you’d be better off without a fuck up like him in your life but he’d kept it to himself, disguising it with humour and teasing you instead.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

Logan finds you being shy amusing to say the least.

It brought his protective instincts out as someone as soft and shy and softly spoken as you would need him by your side 24/7.

He’s your guard dog, scary dog privilege in the form of a very traumatised man who’s became more familiar with pain and heartbreak than the tender affection and touches you give him.

So you found it best to be patient with Logan and give him time to become familiar with your love and affection until he felt ready to reciprocate in his own way. And Logan appreciated you for that and would let you know his appreciation by planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

Logan is a softy with you and while he’s quick to bite back at other people, with you he’s much softer with his words that they’re practically sweet murmurs whispered within your ear, as he held you against his chest protectively as you both drifted off to sleep.

He more or less acts as your voice whenever you felt discomfort, he’d could easily tell from your bodily language and would immediately step in, and voice your discomfort for you in your stead for Logan knew that you’d rather avoid conflict then delve headfirst into it like him.

However Logan would be the type to try and teach you ways to defend yourself and how to stick up for yourself when he couldn’t, this is probably out of his fear of losing someone dear to his heart again, but he wasn’t about to risk looking you when he could give you the tools to keep yourself safe while he was away.

He gives you his jacket, just make sure that the point gets across that you were his and not theirs, after all he’s a possessive man who doesn’t like sharing what’s his with anyone else.

He didn’t care about anyone else, you were the only thing he gave two shits about alongside Laura Kinney (x 23) other then you two, nothing else mattered to Logan. He just wanted you to be happy for as long as possible.

Side note: he’d love it if you and Laura got along, it’ll mean all the more to him.

[cowboylikeyouu]

i finally watched the making of deadpool & wolverine and wrote down every thought that popped up into my mind while watching, have fun lol

god hugh jackman is gorgeous

they’re talking about all the different ideas they had for this movie and honestly??? i would eat up every single one of them they should still do it lol

god hugh jackman is GORGEOUS

man i missed them sm i haven’t watched dp&w in TWO MONTHS?????

i will never shut up about the deadpool suit in this movie it’s SO AWESOME it’s a blessing for my eyes every time it’s on screen

"that’s what we were striving for with rdj in endgame, is to give this iconic fictional character an amazing ending." yeah well only that endgame‘s ending SUCKED and i will never forgive anyone for it <3

ugh hugh jackman is gorgeous

i could watch him speak forever

i‘m SO glad ryan made that "i should use his body as a weapon" pitch bc GODDAMN that opening scene will never get old

ahhhhhh i love that we‘re getting some insight in the stunt/fight stuff, SO interesting !! the shitty iphone test videos are hilarious

they should’ve made a "he ACTUALLY broke his toe when he kicked that helmet!!!!" reference when ryan kicked logan‘s skull lmao

the marry puppins SNOGGING ryan bts clips will never get old lmao funniest shit ever

THE SUIT LOOKS SO GOOD UGHHHH am i having a gender or a sexuality crisis over it???? guess we’ll never know

EMMA CORRIN ILYSM

shout out to british people gotta be one of my fav genders fr

all the different lines ryan screamed out of the honda????😭😭 honestly they should’ve just kept all of these idc about logic

EMMA CORRIN

"and i knew the fans would love it" ohhh hugh i think we all love it a bit too much

"and yet, i wouldn’t say wolverine is a straight man" awesome, thanks, case fucking CLOSED.

"which i don’t recommend, sending a 10 minute voice memo to anyone"

*me looking at the five 10-20 minute voicemails i send my friends every single day*

THE SUITS LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER (their asses do as well)

GOD hugh jackman is gorgeous

"what we refer to as the van fight" no babe that’s the honda odyssey sex marathon actually!!

"violence is our love language" ITS CONFIRMED (everyone knew. BUT STILL)

choreographing this scene (all the deadpool vs wolverine fight scenes really) must’ve been SO FUN like UGH just coming up with all this violence knowing that it won’t affect your characters in the long haul and you can add of many of it as you want????? THE DREAM

THEM HUGGING IN THE HONDA???😭😭 brb gotta cry

I LOVE YOU EMMA CORRIN

CHRIS EVANS LOML

it’s unfair how attractive he is i‘m gonna throw up

reminder to myself to finally learn johnny‘s monologue i wanna be able to randomly hit people with it

OHHHH i actually did NOT realize that was hulk‘s bed from ragnarok??? which is weird bc i used to watch that movie religiously. but hey that’s so cool!!

channing tatum talking about gambit is so heartwarming man so happy for him😭

jennifer garner is so pretty i‘m so gay lord help

me

dafne keen‘s voice sounds SO different when she’s not playing laura, CRAZY

EMMA CORRIN MY LOVE

just once just ONCE i wanna walk through a street filme set like this UGH it looks so cool & surreal

"this is our baby yoda" i have to be this annoying person i‘m sorry but HIS NAME IS GROGU

i don’t know shit about music but i could listen to people talk about movie scores for hours on end (how did you know sideways is my fav youtube video essayist???)

good fucking god hugh jackman is gorgeous

lmao they should’ve kept the "zoooombies wake uuuppp" again, idc about logic

EMMA CORRIN ‼️‼️‼️

ohh hugh jackman is gorgeous (put your greasy tits away you preening slut)

ugh i‘m getting emotional help

well that was awesome, gonna cry myself to sleep now byeee

(have i mentioned how gorgeous hugh jackman is?)

[alicerosejensen]

Tags: Dad!Leon(Older), Leon is the girl's father; fluff.

Warning: There are none.

He was really afraid of becoming a father. It's not so much the news of your pregnancy that scares him, but the likelihood that an innocent child may be harmed. His child. Leon is paranoid to worry about you and the baby. He'll probably get drunk before he puts that thought in his head. Don't get him wrong, he wants a family, he had plans after completing the police academy to get married in a few years and have two children, he still wants a family, but his fear devours this desire entirely because he knows that if something happens to the child and you one day, he just won't survive it.

It takes two to tango so I don't think he'll start getting angry and blaming you for everything. Leon just needs a little time, but when this happens and he thinks it over, he will want to transport you to some place that he thinks is safe.

You might have to get into a long debate with him, but this guy doesn't want anything like the Winters family to happen to his family. If someone kidnaps his child, he will simply go wild.

Due to the fact that he is a government agent, all information about you is classified. Also, if a bioterrorist attack suddenly occurs, you will be quickly evacuated along with your child. At least that's what Leon wants to believe.

The house will be nice and simple (perhaps like the Baker's house but without additional extensions) I think Leon likes something classic and cozy rather than modern and abstract. It is unlikely that you will be against it, especially since he does not skimp on quality items and excellent appliances.

Your child will definitely have a great room at all stages of growing up. But when the baby is born, Leon will still insist that the baby girl sleep next to him and with you for the first time. He would have put her in the middle of the bed, but since it was not safe, he agreed to just put the crib on his side. He's just calmer that way.

“Look, I found a catalog with a whole selection of cribs. There are different options, classic, round, even some very strange ones, what position should the child lie in?”

You will laugh, but in the end you will find the right option. Not too expensive, but first you need to explain to Leon that the baby in the first months of life will definitely not be whimsical in which bed he sleeps on. Leon, of course, knows this, as well as the fact that many of the toys that he has already ordered will not be needed by his daughter until at least six months, but he cannot do anything about it.

Choosing a name is a whole challenge. You two will have a debate about this when you find out the gender of the baby. Leon will want a simple name and will roll his eyes when you read him rare names from your notebook.

"Laura, Mary, Ashley, Sarah, Jessica, Kate? These names are for weaklings! Need something crazy and original, right?"

It will really be difficult, but he will win and his daughter will have a normal name.

When his baby is born and Leon holds her for the first time… you will see tears running down his cheeks. He would have kissed this pink, swaddled bundle of joy, but he just sat there, held her in his arms and cried from the fact that he was now the father of a little girl.

This girl will be lucky as hell. Her father would literally give her the whole world at her whim so you're a little worried that she might grow up spoiled. However, while she is a baby, your only problem is the fact that your daughter loves to be held in her arms because Leon constantly carries her around the house, showing her things and telling her some stories.

Leon will wake up at the first cry and immediately try to calm her down. Change a diaper? hungry? If you are not breastfeeding, Leon will easily prepare the formula and feed her. Sometimes you think that he is a better mother than you.

The best toys, a special children's area when your daughter begins to explore the world around her, beautiful and comfortable onesies. Your daughter will definitely have a bodysuit with the inscription "daddy's princess"

A stern special agent in the White House and on missions, Leon becomes an affectionate bear at home.

He is a truly caring dad. Watching cartoons with her, coloring coloring books, playing games when she grows up. This child is the only person who can attack him from behind and Leon’s reflexes simply won’t work.

Often he needs your help and advice on what to do best. He will especially need your help when her first childhood love and first broken heart happen. Because he can get really angry at anyone who causes his baby any pain. He really doesn’t understand how it’s possible not to love her, but more on that later.

At the age of 3-6 years, Leon can only be seriously shocked by some accidental injury or illness. Be serious but he will panic even if it is a common cold. You will have to work hard so that he doesn’t drop all his business and take your daughter straight to the doctors for all the examinations. Of course, you will dissuade him, but he will repeatedly check the baby while she is in bed. He will kiss her on the forehead and lie with her for a while so that she does not worry (even if she was initially calm). It would also literally break his heart if Leon heard you sneeze.

She will definitely be daddy's princess. She almost literally walks on his head, does her dad's hair with pink bobby pins and combs his bangs, and paints his nails with polish. Leon allows her to do almost everything to him. But of course he won't come to work with pink nail polish.

Support any hobby. It could be dancing, drawing or playing football. The main thing is that she likes it herself.

What Leon definitely won’t allow is to look into his safe where he stores weapons and ammunition. The password will be complex and only he will know it. This is one of the few things that Leon forbids his child.

He, of course, loves his baby and is ready to do anything for her, but… he won’t have a second child. Every time he returns home, a terrible thought comes to his mind: “What if something terrible happens to my family.” He often has a nightmare in which you and your daughter have turned into zombies, so he will need a drink.

I think one day, when your daughter woke up, she left her room and went down to the first floor, holding in her hands the plush bunny with whom she usually sleeps. She saw her father sitting at the table with a bottle of whiskey as he simply looked thoughtfully into his glass.

Leon, of course, immediately noticed her and looked at her. God, tears will immediately flow from his eyes when he stretches out his hands to her and your daughter runs to him. His arms wrap her tightly in his arms and pull her onto his lap. You will see this picture and the perplexed look of children's blue eyes turned to you when your husband is just sitting at the table, holding his beloved child and crying because he is fucking AFRAID!

You understand why Leon behaves this way. He finds it difficult to get rid of these thoughts because of his job. He survived Raccoon City, Tall Oaks, saved the president's daughter in Spain from parasite-infected fanatics, and a whole bunch of other crap that you probably don't even know about. He has every reason to be afraid and sometimes you regret that you did this to him. Although you know that Leon loves your daughter with him, the very thought that something like this will happen to her simply destroys him to the core.

Your little girl wipes the tears from his cheeks and kisses her daddy on the cheek, telling him that he doesn’t need to cry. Leon simply presses her too tightly, feeling her scent. If he could put an end to zombies and their creators once and for all…

Leon will take her and you back to the bedroom. Next to the two of you, he will be able to sleep a little peacefully, but you know that his sleep is never sound.

You try to talk to him but he pushes you away. He really loves you, but he hates it when people mess with his brain. Of course, whiskey is a bad medicine and Leon himself does not want his daughter to find out that her dad sometimes has the weakness to drink, thereby ignoring his problems, but still… no matter how hard he tries to be perfect, he is not perfect.

When your daughter goes to school, Leon will rejoice at any of her successes. She will also help with homework as much as needed. He will explain everything in detail, clearly and without shouting (sorry, this is a sore subject for me).

He will not always be able to attend school events, unlike you, but if possible he will not miss them. However, he asks you to record everything on camera.

Oh yes, on his desk at home there is a framed family photo of the three of you in the park, joyful and carefree.

So, adolescence is…complicated. Leon understands that his baby will begin to grow up and has no problem organizing small changes in her room. And he also understands that hormones are coming into play. Sometimes screams and anger accompanied by loud slamming of the door are simply inevitable.

That's the time when he can really start to get angry and swear in response, so you realize you need to cool his temperament… The truth is that you really have to punish your daughter when she crosses all boundaries.

Nevertheless, if something suddenly happens, she will always run to Leon, knowing that he will protect her. He may be angry, but as mentioned above, he will do everything possible so that nothing happens to his family.

Partying with friends at night? Absolutely not! Never! Have pity on the old man's heart. Leon will find a bunch of reasons not to let her go anywhere at night. After all, there will be alcohol, shitty guys who can offend her or get her drunk and take advantage of this by ruining her life. Perhaps Leon will exaggerate, but until the age of 16 he will definitely be adamant about this. Sometimes being the daughter of a government agent just isn't possible.

And then, before letting her go to the party, he will sit her down on the sofa and give her a long lecture, telling her to always watch her drink, drink only what she pours for herself or is poured in front of her. If are distracted, do not drink under any circumstances, but take another glass! If someone pesters her, he will show several self-defense techniques and immediately tell to call him. Well, the cherry on the cake - he still won’t allow her to stay there all night. He also won’t bother with calls, but she will need to respond to all his SMS, if not… he will come right away.

Even you yourself will get tired of this overprotection, realizing that Leon often goes too far.

But you ask your daughter to be more lenient towards her father, because he is simply worried about her life. However, when you are young and have not seen what Leon saw, it is difficult to understand his actions and behavior.

There will be conflicts and there will be a lot of them.

The only thing that can make your daughter understand the actions of her father is if someone kidnaps her and confronts her with the infected, forcing her father to go to another wilderness inhabited by the infected. (bad version of events).

Leon will immediately go after her, promising you that he will return her safe and sound. He remembers how he saved Ashley, but she was already an adult girl and not a teenager who, at most, had seen horror films on TV.

Leon, like Barry or Ethan, is ready to kick the ass of any bastard who hurts his baby. In any case, he will do everything to save her.

I imagine this concept as a teenage girl hiding behind her father's back, holding on to his kurta or vest while he shoots enemies, sometimes throwing improvised objects like bottles or stones, stunning the opponents.

After returning home, she will hug you tightly and cry for the hundredth time, promising her father that she will no longer contradict him.

There is no need to say what condition Leon himself will be in after this personal rescue mission. All three of you will experience extreme stress after what happened.

In a good scenario, bypassing the kidnapping, peace between father and daughter would most likely have come much later, when the teenage years would have been long behind us. Probably this realization would have come to her when her naive view of the world ceased to be naive and she began to understand what her father had been struggling with for many years.

Oh yes, about first love. Leon would definitely be vigilant and keep a close eye on everything. He has a whole database and he will immediately run through all the boy’s data, having learned everything about him, and yet he doesn’t really like the idea that some dubious guy is hunting for his daughter.

If Leon realizes that this is an ordinary bastard who runs after every skirt… well, he will find a way to take him away from his treasure. If not and he's just a normal guy… he'll just watch and give a couple of warnings.

The first parting… Leon consoles as best he can, but he has no idea what to do. He himself got drunk and slept through his first day of work, but this option is definitely not suitable. That's why he needs your help again.

"Movies, books, maybe give her something? What can I do to stop her crying into her pillow?! I don't know what else to tell her!"

In the end, he will gain strength and give a good speech, comforting your daughter's broken heart. After all, life does not end with one boy who, in Leon’s opinion, only proved that he is not worthy of his daughter.

He's a good dad. Not ideal, but your daughter wouldn't want it any other way. Of course, she is sad that he may not be home for a long time and sometimes he is too suspicious, but he is her dad who will move the earth for her.

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 1

Ghost x Reader x Konig

(Neighbour!au and Roommate!au cause I can't get enough of them hehe)

Also like for this fic just don't mind how this would actually never happen in real life + don't think too much about the logic in this story. It's all purely fictional and for your entertainment :)

You want to go home.

Your apartment keys jingle as they hang from your fingers. Room 409. You sigh. It’s been a long day, to say the least. All you want to do is to just relax and unwind like you would any other Friday with a glass of wine and that dumpster fire of a Netflix show that is ‘Emily in Paris’. You let out another long sigh waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby. At least Emily lives a much more exciting and drama-filled life than you did with your 9 to 5 job.

You stare at your feet, trying to find something to pass the time that seems to drag on for forever. Your feet are already killing you from your high heels that you’ve been wearing for over 9 hours. Usually, you would be home by 7 — it’s 11 — especially on a Friday. Laura, a close coworker of yours went on pregnancy leave, meaning you’re working more hours to cover her absence.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder from your calendar app — oh great, it’s already 12. ‘RENT PAYMENT DUE IN A WEEK.’ You haven’t found a roommate to occupy that extra bedroom in your apartment even after 2 months of your listing being put online. Granted, you should’ve started looking for a new roommate the moment your previous one told you they were moving out, but you were too busy for that! You tap your foot impatiently. How long does it take for an elevator to travel up 2 floors from the carpark to the lobby?

The elevator doors open with a ‘ding!’ and you’re met with the giant of a man that is this mysterious guy wearing all black. His brown hair and matching brown eyes make him dashing and the scars littering on his face adds on to his good looks somehow. “’s rude to stare, love.” His gruff voice snaps you out of it. “R-right, sorry.” To say he was intimidating was an understatement, but god was he good looking.

When you’re both in the elevator, the usual smell of the clean, bleached scent is replaced with the smell of cigarettes and an undertone of gunpowder? Whatever it is, you much prefer it over the smell of bleach you’ve been used to for months. The elevator ride is silent and you both get off the same floor to go our separate ways… except he was following you!

You get a little bit nervous as anyone would if a tall, maybe 190cm buff guy was following you a few steps behind. “What apartment you in?” You say with panic filling your body with each step. Oh god, you don’t wanna die yet! “410.” He responds. “Oh.” Well, that makes more sense.

“I’m your neighbor then! Nice to meet you.” You smile and introduce yourself. He hums in response. “Simon Riley.” He says, nodding at you in acknowledgement. You would like to chat with this guy more, but he doesn’t strike you as talkative, as if his short replies didn’t already tell you that.

You both turn the locks on your own apartment doors. “Next time, you should really run if you think you’re in danger.” He chuckles a little to himself. You turn to look at him in shock, only to find he’s already disappeared into his apartment. So he did know! Asshole. You shake your head and enter your own apartment.

After showering, you scroll your phone on Instagram mindlessly when a notification pops up on your phone. Oh my god, someone responded to your listing! You waste no time in responding to them, despite it being ass-o-clock. You arrange to meet up with them in the afternoon, and you head to sleep hoping whoever this guy is will be a good roommate for you.

When you wake up, you’re a little behind schedule. Scrap that, VERY behind schedule. You haven’t cleaned up the apartment and made it presentable to your possible roommate yet, and you’re gonna meet him in 20 minutes downstairs! You hurriedly stuff all the clothes you find lying around in the living room into your own bedroom and clean the kitchen counters — you know the drill.

As soon as you’re done arranging the last piece of furniture in the living room, you rush out of the door, bumping into that neighbor you met last night. You give him a quick, “Morning, Simon!” before rushing past him, not even giving him time to greet you back.

Somehow by the grace of god, you’re right on time to meet the guy. You agree to meet him at the café right across your apartment complex, and holy fuck. There’s no way this 2 meter guy is your roommate. You both stare at each other awkwardly before you decide to go up to him. “Konig?” I say, and he nods. Oh he is.

[togrowoldinv]

Farmhouse

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natasha brings you home to Clint’s farm and you share a soft day with the family

Note: I love love love auntie Nat and those kids deserved Nat to stay alive, so in this fic she did. Enjoy the softness!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

One of Natasha’s favorite places in the world is Clint’s farm. When he first helped her defect to Shield, the farm was her safe haven. Laura and Clint were so nice to her. It was the first time in years that she felt anywhere was a home.

Natasha has continued visiting over the years, so she knew when she fell in love with you that she would bring you home to the farm. After much kissing, she convinced you to get up at the crack of dawn to fly to the farm. The kids would want to see her when they wake up.

“Are you ready, detka?” Natasha asks you as you stand on the front porch of the farmhouse. You’ve seen pictures of it before but being here you can really feel the sense of home Nat gets from it.

Nat takes your hand in her strong one and opens the door. The house is quiet, only the soft hum of fans can be heard. Natasha walks with practiced direction and leads you into the kitchen.

“Nat,” a woman, Laura you recognize from photos, greets her. “Come here, honey.”

She stands up from the table and hugs Natasha. You’re surprised by Nat’s easiness to fall into the woman’s arms. The only other people you’ve seen her hug so casually are you and Steve.

“Laura, this is my girlfriend y/n,” Natasha says.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Barton,” you greet her.

“Oh please, call me Laura!” She says and pulls you in for a hug. Nat watches on with a smile.

Laura tells you that the kids will be up soon, so you better prepare for the quiet house to become chaotic. Nat takes you upstairs to drop your bags in her bedroom. While you’re up there, little feet patter across the floor.

Natasha steps into the hallway and looks towards the bedrooms.

“Nate?” She asks.

“Auntie Nat?” The little boy matches her questioning tone.

“Yeah buddy, it’s me.”

“Auntie Nat!” He yells and steps out of his room completely. He runs to Natasha, who picks him up and holds him tight.

“Good morning, Nate,” Natasha says. “This is y/n. Can you say hi?”

The boy rubs his eyes and leans further into her, clearly enjoying her warmth. You understand.

“He’s still sleepy,” a voice comes from behind you. The prodigal daughter stands there with a sleepy grin.

“Lila,” Natasha says softly.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Lila says as she practically jogs to reach Nat for a hug.

“I missed you, malyshka,” Natasha says.

She hugs Lila while still holding Nate in her arms. He’s drifting off to sleep.

“Y/n,” Nat addresses you. “This is Lila, aka my favorite kid.”

You all three chuckle.

“Nice to meet you, Lila,” you say. She feels a warmth in your greeting.

“You too,” she says. “Coop will be sleeping for a while, so we should probably go downstairs.”

Lila leads the way and you follow her with Nat and Nate trailing behind. The little boy is completely asleep, but Nat doesn’t mind. If anything, it warms her heart that he is comfortable enough to drift off in her arms.

Downstairs Laura begins to cook breakfast. You try to help but she tells you that company shouldn’t cook. You sit next to Nat at the table and converse with the family as the day begins.

Breakfast is delicious. And you already feel like a part of the family. Nate even lets you cut up his pancakes so you take that as a win.

You move to the living room afterwards to sit with Nat. Nate runs around and plays while Lila and Cooper play on their phones.

Natasha seems lighter after just a couple of hours of being at the farm. You lean against her shoulder and she kisses your cheek. You sigh contentedly.

“You okay?” Nat asks.

“I’m great,” you tell her.

You shift to look into her eyes and see her smiling at you. Natasha lifts your chin up with her hand and kisses your lips softly.

“Gross,” comes a remark from Clint of all people.

“Shut it, Clinton Francis!” You tell him.

His mouth opens in shock. Natasha, Laura, and the teenagers die laughing.

“Natasha, how dare you tell her about my name!” Clint yells.

“Sorry,” she says unseriously. “She got it out of me.”

“It’s clear who wears the pants in this relationship,” Clint jokes.

Natasha pulls you closer as the conversations continue. You really feel at home with these people in this place.

You think one day you’ll get a farmhouse of your own and live out your days with Natasha there.

[randomfoggytiger]

do you happen to have any fic recs where Scully is the one to initiate msr’s first kiss? I see a lot of the opposite but scully should get to do it

Dana Scully Makes the First Move

Oh, yes, a ton.

Here are a few I haven't reread in a while. *ahem*

Loose chronological order below~

Little_Pumpkin_Bagel's Vive Ut Vivas

I swallow hard. Assuming by the way she’s looking at me, I’m mostly sure that whatever she’s up to will throw caution out of limits for the sake of both of us. – “And what would that be, Scully?”

She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she holds my collar and pulls me down....

Post One Breath Mulder can't quite conceal his true feelings, which leaves Scully an opening.

trustmescully's Intoxicating Darkness

"I love you too, Scully," he smiles and his eyes shine with his mouth.

S2 Mulder, depressed and suicidal, is stopped from further considerations when Scully chases after him in the freezing rain.

@danadeservesadrink/Samwritess's

Collapse (Tumblr)

But he needed her to know like she needed him to know, and there was no pretending any more.

“I know” she whispered, so quiet it was almost in her head. He nodded silently and pressed his forehead to hers, their eyes closing, hands falling intertwined again between them. 

Post Pusher Scully supports Mulder until his defeat breaks her walls.

Justin Glasser's (xphilefic) Lonely Nightmare

She brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "When are you going to start listening to me?"

Mulder felt his mouth twitch into a smile. "Scully," he said. His voice sounded like it was rubbed over sandpaper. Screaming, he thought. That's from when I was screaming.

"What, Mulder?" She was rubbing his shoulders now, trying to work the blood back into them. He was alive, so she was playing Doctor Scully, all business, rubbing their relationship back to normal as quickly as possible. Mulder wasn't sure he wanted it back to normal so quickly. Mulder wasn't sure he could handle normal right away.

"If you kiss me again, I promise not to shout."

Post Never Again Mulder and Scully slowly bridge the distance between them during an intense case of missing teens and bonfires.

@mollybecameanengineer/Sareki's My Beloved (Tumblr)

He started to rise, to apologize and leave the room, but she stopped him. “What things?” she whispered. 

Her face was open, her eyes bright. She knew what he was going to say, and it didn’t look like she was afraid of it.

Post Kaddish Mulder can't sleep, slipping into Scully's motel room for a late-night conversation.

@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys's

Max 2.0

Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”

Post Max Mulder drives Scully out of the city where they stargaze while she tries to reassure and motivate him to keep fighting.

The Warmest Thing I Own

He saw her suddenly blink, head shake, both signs she was just waking up, “what? Mulder?”

Knowing she didn’t recall anything because there was no embarrassment turning her red, no heat in her cheeks, eyes innocently confused, “nothing...."

Cancer arc Mulder and Scully skip work, spending the day together as he prepares the best gourmet steak and mushrooms he can for her. (The sequels Fancy Paper Napkins, End of the Road, and Post Moments are excellent reads, too.)

Miles to Go

"Mulder ..."

"Yeah?"

"Smile."

The camera flashed in his face, "I think this one should be labeled 'Before'."

Mulder gulped down the last of his hot dog, "before what?"

"Before I kissed you."

Post FTF Mulder and Scully take the remains of their burnt office home, falling asleep and waking to a storm outside. Scully bucks the expected in a few unexpected ways.

206 Bones

Chocking up her growing feeling of dread to exhaustion, anger and lack of any type of proper vitamin or mineral, she helped her partner search, track and eventually corner Parsons in an abandoned building fifteen minutes away, half demolished and dangerous to any and all who set foot inside.

Only seconds before getting the final word to take the building, Scully’s fear got the better of her and she turned Mulder to face her, pulling him down to her....

Scully gives Mulder a good luck kiss before they attempt to flush their suspect from a rotten building... and ends up the one worse for wear.

Anne Haynes's (xf-redux.com)

Sonnet

The kiss was sweet. Simple. Breathtaking.

Redux II Mulder is afraid Scully is dying, at last, only for his world to be turned right-side up in a multitude of ways.

Package Deal (txt)

But she ran her thumb beneath his chin, tipping his head up, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes spoke a thousand sweet promises and then there was no more hesitation, no lingering gaze, no more silent questions passed back and forth between them.

Post FTF Scully is overjoyed: she and Mulder are still partnered, their story was believed, and the files are getting expanded. So overjoyed, in fact, she moves their relationship to the next level.

nabokoves's Unwritten Hymns

She mumbled his name into his shoulder, foggy with confusion. She wanted to know if he was okay. He pulled back to look at her, struggling to find something to say. He brimmed with words so corny they would make even the poets puke.

Post Redux II Mulder may hate God-- chalking up Scully's remission to science instead of his angry prayers-- but he in no way hates God's believer, Scully.

@nowwhateinstein's (Ao3) Fic: Seeking Warmth/Seeking Warmth

I look at him. He’s regarding me with a gaze that is both familiar and thrilling. Tenderness and desire are present in his eyes. It’s the same look, I realize, he had moments before he went to kiss me in the hallway outside his apartment - a moment that seems like a lifetime ago. Then, I found myself hesitating, afraid to reciprocate his acknowledgement of a truth we’d both known. Now, however, in light of everything that’s happened in the past week, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to lean over and kiss him.

Post FTF Scully picks up where she and Mulder left off, despite her slowly recovering body and patched-up snowsuit.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's ice crystals (Ao3)

He pulls her hand up and kisses the back of it in relief. Her forehead furrows and she pulls her hand out of his. Something inside him thunks. 

But the next thing he knows, she is leaning across the space between them and cupping her face in his.

Post Tithonus Mulder and Scully flesh out their frustrations and feelings as they (almost) freeze to death.

@purrykat/mylifeinshadow's

How about M&S in Boston

She joins you next to the desk, a murmured noise of acknowledgment at the ‘CANCELLED’ notice that appears next to your flight number. You brace yourself for thinly veiled frustration, but when you risk a glance, there’s a funny little twinkle in her eye instead. You’re instantly taken back to the week prior—

Post IVF Mulder mulls over the brief kiss Scully gave him after the procedure failed.

Sending you number 20 for the kiss prompts.

I think it’s safe to say that it’s not Skinner that I’m interested in.”

And there it is. You’ve been steadily climbing toward this moment for the better part of the month, neither willing to take that final leap. It’s as if the absence of height difference gives her a burst of confidence, even as it turns you into a fumbling idiot.

Mulder, very late for a meeting with Skinner, is intercepted on the stairway by Scully.

effywho's Astra Inclinant

"I say...I say we stop talking." Scully replies.

It's his turn to look down, crumbling. "Sure, I understand."

He feels her breath on his hair as she leans closer. "I'm not sure you do."

Post IVF Mulder is shocked by not only their success but also Scully's follow up after his declaration.

EvanBlack's WHITEOUT

'You have a beautiful face Mulder.'

...There was an awkward silence, then he shifted and propped his cheek on his hand.

'That's the Evening Blush talking Scully.' He smiled with his lips, but she could see his eyes were serious - and nervous.

His nerves gave her sudden courage. 

A plane crashes Mulder and Scully in the snowy mountains; and their petty squabbles become small in comparison to starvation, necessary cannibalism, and the increasing odds of death.

Xequinn's (Ao3) Playing Hookie

“Yeah let's do this” “On a count of three” she says” “One,” he responds On “Two” they adjust suddenly sweaty hands “Three!” Scully leaps off, pulling Mulder behind her

Scully has fun dragging Mulder around on her slightly manic beachside adventures.

The Trouble with Expectations - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

“Scully of course I showed. Why did you think I hadn’t?” She didn’t answer. Just let more tears fall. He grabbed for her hand again, and she let him. “Scully I’ll always come get you”

She didn’t answer. Just lunged forward and grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as she could.

Scully, assuming Mulder forgot to pick her up from the airport, is heartbroken... until Mulder wanders over from the bathroom.

@this-is-surely-tru/yours_truly's If the Fates Allow

“Tactile evidence only increases the anticipation, Mulder. It doesn’t diminish it.”

The slightly concussed look on her partner’s face was undeniably adorable, and he shook his head slightly as if to clear it while they both relaxed again into the carriage seat. “Far be it from me to argue with that, Scully.”

Mulder, stuck in New York for Christmas, surprises his partner with a rented carriage ride; and she, in turn, surprises him as well.

@alabama-metal-man's Unnamed

 She pulls back, runs her hand along his cheek, and turns away to take a long drag of her coffee. She closes her eyes, sighing contentedly.

“What was that for?” She can hear the hint of teasing, the lingering smile.

Scully is having a rotten morning until Mulder remembers her coffee order.

@admiralty-xfd/admiralty's Up in your arms - Chapter 1

He stared at her with a look she couldn’t figure out, but it wasn’t a look that said don’t. It was the furthest thing from that look she could discern. So she leaned into him, all the way in, and she felt him inhale ever so slightly as she took the biggest risk of her life.

Post Closure Mulder contemplates his new life. Scully answers at least one question for him.

And just for fun, I grabbed a few of my baronessblixen rereads:

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3) 

Temporary Insanity (Ao3)

How many times has she cheated death this year? Two times? Three? She’s come so close that she’s stopped counting. Every time, she just picked herself up, bought a new blouse if it was torn or bloody, threw away shoes that weren’t as lucky as she was, and calmed herself down when a nightmare tried to take her under. She’s done. She feels it in her fingertips. She feels it like a current running through her body. She needs something. Something to make her feel alive.

Paper Clip Scully is spurned by her anger into more-than-professional overtures.

The Day After (Ao3)

“Kiss and make up?” Mulder says with a grin, biting his bottom lip. He at least has to try. Scully stares at him for a moment, the way she sometimes does before she tells him how crazy he is. He knows that look. But this time it’s different. 

Wetwired Mulder and Scully's discussion leads to decisive action on her part.

Never Cold With You By My Side

Feeling bold, she lets her hand wander behind his neck to play with the hair there. If he doesn’t want this – her – he can stop her before this even starts. But he doesn’t. So she pulls him to her, pressing her lips to his.

One Son Mulder and Scully spend the night locked up in Fort Marlene while she is hurt, jealous, and angry.

Dreams Are Made of This

Scully gets on her tiptoes and kisses Mulder. On the lips, just like that. Just like she’s been thinking about. It’s a quick kiss, but thorough. Like you’d kiss your husband. The person you love. All those thoughts fly through her head as she steps out the door. She stops there, realizing what she just did.

Scully, in the midst of a hopeful IVF daydream, accidentally kisses Mulder.

Five Minutes - Chapter 2 (Tumblr)

He returns with them, one in each hand, and when Scully reaches out to take hers, he shakes his head. Seeing him like this, her knight in crinkled Armani, his hands full, she can’t wait another second. She gets on tiptoes, careful not to topple over, and presses her lips to his. He tastes like coffee and the chocolate chip cookie they shared on the plane. They’ve waited long enough for this.

“We have?” Mulder, his eyes glazed over, grinning stupidly, sounds amused.

Will never not include this post IVF success story.

Candlelight Moments With You

You look like you're gonna faint. Eat something." She holds a chip up to his mouth and he accepts it, his lips closing over her finger. He can't tell what flavor the chips are, but he knows he wants more.

"More?" he asks in a whisper. She smiles at him and nods. But he doesn't get another chip. Instead, he gets a kiss.

Mulder tries to give Scully a good enough Christmas while both are practically stranded in a motel.

[katelynnwrites]

And I Say To You (Soon You'll Get Better) | Laura Freigang

warnings: flu and other general sickness stuff

word count: 1160

summary: you get sick and your lovely girlfriend looks after you. when she gets sick, you repay the favour

a/n: requested, thanks for sending this in 🥰

It started as a tickle in your throat.

You drank as much water as you could to try and get rid of it but it doesn’t work.

Barely a day after your realisation, you’re waking up with a full body ache.

Sneezes and a coughing fit follow suit and you’re breathless by the time you manage to get it under control.

Gentle, cool fingers slide themselves under your shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. It doesn’t take much for you to figure out who they belong to, even when your head is pounding.

‘Sorry for waking you.’ You hoarsely say, wincing at how dry your throat is.

‘It’s okay.’ Your girlfriend whispers.

Her hands touch your forehead and Laura frowns worriedly.

‘You’re burning up baby.’

‘S’okay.’ You mumble tiredly, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

Everything is a little hazy but you can feel the bed dip as the blonde leaves.

She’s back a moment later, fever reducers, lozenges and a mug of warm water in hand.

You groan as she gets you to sit up. The world swims a little and you don’t like it.

A distressed whine must have left your lips because the striker seems doubly worried now as she looks you over.

Her palm rests against your forehead again and her brows are furrowed anxiously as she pulls away.

The mug is pressed into your hands and your girlfriend helps guide it to your lips.

You sip slowly and Laura hums in approval.

She swaps the mug out for the medication after a few minutes.

‘You’ll feel better after these, I promise.’ She coaxes.

‘Thanks schatz.’ You murmur and she kisses your too hot cheek.

‘I’ll let the staff know we’re not coming for training today.’

‘No no. You should go. I’ll be okay.’ You immediately say.

The striker shakes her head, already putting the mug and remaining medication away.

‘I’m staying here to look after you.’

‘Lau…’ You try but she is adamant.

‘You know you would do the same for me.’ She states, leaving no room for argument as she strips her shirt off.

She slowly eases yours up and over your head before getting you to lie back down with her.

Your girlfriend spoons you close, smiling when she hears the sigh of relief you let out. Her body is so much cooler and is a welcome touch against your feverish one.

Carefully, she pulls the blanket back over both your bodies and you melt into the German forward.

Laura’s efforts have made you feel a lot more comfortable that it’s not long before you are falling back asleep.

******

It’s your girlfriend’s hushed voice that registers on your bleary mind when you begin to come to.

‘No her fever hasn’t broken yet so you may as well go ahead and tell the coaching team that we’re both not going to be able to come in tomorrow.’

You crack open an eye, making out the blonde’s figure in the dimly lit room.

She is sitting at the foot of the bed, her phone held to her ear.

In doing so, you note with some displeasure that your head still hurts.

Shifting your body, you find out that the rest of your body still does too.

Laura must have heard the sheets rustling because she turns around immediately and hangs up the call with a rushed, ‘I’ll call you back later Lara.’

‘Hi.’ You mumble as she fusses over you.

‘Your temperature is still running too high.’ She unhappily says after checking once more, this time with an actual thermometer.

Curiously, you ask, ‘Where did you get that?’

Your fever is not so high as to forget that you do not own a thermometer.

‘I had a few of our teammates drop off some stuff earlier.’ The blonde explains, blushing a little.

‘I love you.’

Your favourite person smiles, gently pressing her lips against yours.

You melt until you remember that you remember that you are sick.

Weakly, you push her away, ‘Lau! No kissing! No kissing! I don’t want you to catch my bug.’

Your girlfriend laughs, ‘My girl I hate to remind you but I’ve been cuddled up with you all day. Kissing you doesn’t make a difference because I have already been exposed to your germs.’

Your eyes widen and the striker giggles again.

‘Don’t worry, I love you and that includes your germs. Plus I have a great immune system.’ She confidently states.

The striker firmly kisses you once more to prove her point.

You kind of want to keep her away, to make sure she doesn’t get sick despite what she had said but you are really feeling too ill.

You’re exhausted too and as Laura keeps running her fingers through your hair, with you settled on your chest, your eyes begin to slip close.

‘Sleep my love.’ She whispers.

******

When you next wake up, it’s because Laura’s hand is on your forehead.

‘Hey you.’ She smiles.

You smile back, feeling significantly better. Your head is clear and your limbs hurt less.

‘Your fever’s broken.’ The blonde murmurs, affectionately stroking the space between your eyebrows with her thumb.

‘What time is it?’ You ask.

‘Late. Four in the morning last I checked.’ She answers, after thinking for a moment.

‘Schatz! What are you doing up?’

The forward shrugs, ‘Looking after you of course. I couldn’t sleep till I knew for sure that your fever’s gone down.’

You pull your girlfriend down beside you.

‘I love you so much. So so much.’ You whisper.

‘Love you too.’ Laura easily promises.

‘My fever is gone so please get some sleep.’ You insist, somewhat guiltily realising that she has the beginnings of dark circles forming around her eyes.

‘Take your medicine first. You’re due for another dose.’ The German woman argues, pointing to the pills and bottle of water set neatly on your bedside table.

You do as she asks and then tuck her into your side, kissing her chastely.

‘Goodnight schatz.’

******

Laura’s right.

Her immune system is strong and she does not catch whatever illness you have.

She does however wind up with a cold after her impromptu snowball fight with Lina.

Then it’s your turn to look after her, holding her close as she sleeps restlessly, her fever running its course.

‘Love you.’ You whisper to your silly, silly girlfriend.

She had really gone at it with the Bayern midfielder, the both of them stuffing handfuls of snow down the back of each other’s shirts.

It had been hilarious and you are sure the photos would turn out so too. You love that side of Laura, the one that draws in everyone, fans and teammates alike with her antics.

But this other side of the blonde, the one that only you see, who makes grabby hands for your cuddles with fever flushed cheeks and whines when she has to take her medicine, well you love it too.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

[sirwadewilsonfromimgur]

Deadpool and Wolverine: KCAU

Christmas Special

Kansas City Missouri, Earth-10005 December 2065

Part 4

Authors note: The literal Blizzard in Kansas City gave me the time to finish this chapter, because I'm snowed in... I hope y'all like it.

Dr. House and the Wolverine

What happens, dear reader when you're left alone with your totally not boyfriend's very intimidating dad who has retractable Freddy Krueger claws...

Morning came, the automatic curtain retreated, and dawns light came crashing into the room. Greg had a surprisingly restful night, Wilson had infact not repeatedly kicked him. He was however quite chagrined

to discover that the dog Mary Puppens had nuzzeled herself firmly between his arm and arm pit.

Do you do this sort of thing with all house guests or am I special. He said to the dog who stood up, winked at him again, shook herself and hoped off the bed, and trotted out the door and down the hall... baffled Greg got out of bed. Wilson had gotten up before him he was already out and about well before he woke up.

Apparently, he'd gotten the let sleeping dogs lye treatment. He'd missed breakfast, and everyone was already done, and the table cleared.

Good morning, Greg

Wade handed him a mug off coffee and a croissant.

Sorry, late risers only get le petit déjeuner.

Parlez-vous français?

Only enough to get by when I'm in Quebec or if it's Tuesday. My French is always better on Tuesday.

It is Tuesday...

Si je suis honnête avec moi-même, je fais la plupart des choses par besoin d'attention ou par un cri d'aide désespéré.

I would have never guessed...

This was the kind of strange interaction the Greg eventually came to recognize as normal in the Howlett-Wilson household... he'd definitely understood James a little better. The man had an unusually high tolerance for shenanigans and bullshitery... you'd have to with Wade and Logan as your parents... loving but clearly unstable James had probably spent most of his childhood helping Wade on his bad days and tolerating an ungodly amount of whimsy on his good days.

No wonder they got along.

He spent most of the morning talking to Wade. Learning he was not, in fact, a burn victim as he'd told him the first time they met at one of Wilsons' weddings. But a mutant with a healing factor that was basically supercharging and killing his cancer all at once... a relation that he wondered if that affected James's choice in specialty. Oncology. He posed it to Wade...

Many years ago when James was just a little kitten, I may have told him that there's a chance that if my cancer was cured, I could finally die... I may have trauma dumped on my only son that i was terrified of out living him... I... I just love him so much... Family is important to me, Greg... both my found family and my husband and children.... Althea was 115 when she passed... Buck passed away recently... I haven't gotten over it. And no parent should out live their child... but I fear I will. If James chose a field to cure me so that I didn't have to live without him... he's truly the best son a father could ask for.

All in all, it wasn't a bad morning... until Greg was informed that Wade, James, Ellie, and Laura were going to crown center down the street to do some last minute christmas shopping... he and Logan were specifically not invited as Santa didn't want them peeking...

I know it's a thin premise... but work with me, Greg.

Fine... but your husband scares the bajezus out of me... he literally tackled me yesterday. He's also been staring daggers at me. Sharp murdery daggers.

Oh, don't worry about Logan he's totally tsundere coded, he dosn't bite... unless you ask nicely...

he might stab you, if you let too much of that brilliant personality shine through James whispers in his ear.

I can hear you James don't scare the man.

Sorry papa, love you see you in a bit.

Greg... Don't be yourself.

Thanks for the advice

Greg goes to the livingroom and sits down on the couch... a hockey game is playing on the TV that Logan isn't that invested in...

So... do you want a drink?

Sure, whatever you're having is fine

You'll have a bourbon... you can't handle what I'm having... and he was correct, Logan came back with two glasses and a bottle of Ben Holladay Bottled in Bond Straight Bourbon for Greg and A bottle of everclear for himself.

You need ice?

No, I'm good... thanks.

Logan pours a little over a finger of whiskey in one glass and fills the the other nearly to the brim with the clear concentrated jet fule.

Can you keep a secret? Because Wade dosn't exactly like it when I drink for results.

Eyeing the everclear...results!? if you drink all of that you'll be dead?

I'll be buzzed at best... didn't you read any fucking comics as a kid, didn't James tell you who I am...

Yes, the Wolverine. The bullet proof bad ass... he didn't tell me you were an alcoholic.

Logan glares... says nothing as he sips his glass and sits back down.

He doesn't actually talk about you and Wade that much... not in detail anyway. As for the comics, of course I've read about the Xmen... but I also know it's 90% bullshit propaganda... not that I'm against the cause.

Well, you're not wrong about that bub.

Still, the royalties must be nice, you seem to do well...

Logan lets out a loud laugh and downs his glass of Ever clear... pouring himself another glass, he explains;

I Don't see a fucking dime of that money, My name and Likeness is owned by the X-Corporation... Jean Grey specifically, Until she retires then I imagine it'll belong to Rachel.... no son, this house was paid for in blood, the blood of gangsters specifically if I remember the contract.

Well, you've definitely made a comfortable living from it. This place is huge.

Yeah... Huge... he said in a mournful tone.

It wasn't always like this, you know... I was homeless in more than one sense of the word before Wade and I met. Now I live in this place *he waves his hand in a gesture that could be described as sarcastic*

It's everything Wade wanted... it was different for him... the guy grew up in a shack with a fucking alcoholic mother and an abusive father... he always lived in squalor. So he wanted something big fancy... something nice..... And he deserves it. Ya' know.. deserves to have something nice.

I could do without it, I grew up in a big house and all the putting on airs of the money'd classes... I was happiest when I had less.

mansions... make me uncomfortable for a lot of reasons. This house is about as close to that as I ever want to get.

A cabin in the woods, a cave in the wild tundra... Logan shakes his head and looks wistfully out the window... an overcast wintery day... you know he didn't tell me he bought the place. Maybe he knew I'd say it was too big. Maybe he was right...

When Wade and I first got together, we lived in a one bedroom apartment with Althea, I slept on a couch that hurt my back... Wade and I would cuddle on it and fall asleep watching TV.

I miss it... I miss simpler times. I miss picking up odd jobs and hanging out at hardware stores, hoping to get a construction job for the week...

Wade would freelance, he'd only work when we needed the money for rent ... I wish we could go back to then, I don't regret where I ended up, and Wade is the love of my life... but. I wish we could have done some things differently, took our time... made some decisions together... it's hard. We all make little sacrifices for the ones we love.

I appreciate your cander... and this has ben... fun, well, about as much fun as an STI examination.. but i gotta ask why the confession... we've never interacted that much, and this is the most chatty you've been with me ever

Everything I've told you today was the truth. I'd hoped that you'd return the favor... but i guess not.

What makes you so sure I'm lying.

I can smell whenever you're uncomfortable... or when you're lying and you lie a lot... that's why I wanted to talk to you...

It took me 3 months, a huge fight before I was honest... not only with Wade, but myself... but it also took Vanessa telling me to stop being such a little bitch... so Greg, learn from an old mans mistakes... how much time have you already wasted... how much time do you have left?

I don't really follow what you're trying to tell me here.

I've watched you trip James every chance you get... I did see you trip him in the hall, I heard you too... just so you know...

I've heard you make cruel jokes at his expense, and you've said terrible mean-spirited things to him about his appearance, his personal choices... every time I've had the opportunity to observe you and my son together you've been a class A pure bread dickhead.

*snikt*

Logan brandishing his claws for emphasis lightly taps on the coffee table.

The only reason I haven't stabbed you and tossed you in the river... is because I can literally smell the truth on both of you and its so fucking stupid because of how familiar it is. You two love each other... I can smell the attraction. You're a grown ass man... it's time you put the school yard phase of expressing your feelings about it behind you.

I suggest you be honest with my son. But that choice is yours and this conversation, just between you and me.

Walking towards his office, he left Greg to be alone with his thoughts. But he added a parting shot.

I may not be the greatest detective, but your attitude towards my son is no mystery to me. I know why you're such a grumpy fuck too. But that's a conversation for another day.

Link to next chapter below.

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is. 

[feetinthewaves]

Swimwear Season - Laura Freigang

Summary : You finally teach Laura how to surf (I don't actually know how to surf so this is not a reliable guide but i do love the sea and spend all my time in it !!"

Warning !! This is nothing like what i normally write !! I have never written anything like this before so feedback is encouraged and let me know if you wanna see more or if I should just quit while I'm ahead !!

The sound of Laura's alarm going off brought you out of your sleep, only to notice the blonde laying on top of you made no effort to move and turn her alarm off. After turning her alarm off for her, you decided that getting up and starting the day by yourself whilst she continued to sleep was probably your best option, the blonde had never been a fan of mornings.

"y/n/n" She grumbled, obviously disagreeing with your plans as she felt you wriggle out from underneath her, "Schatz, please just 5 more minutes"

Giggling you continue to get up, leaving the room. The small cottage you were staying in was gorgeous, like Laura you thought. Turing on the stove, you began to cook you and Laura porridge, the same meal you had eaten for breakfast every morning before a day in the sea, ever since you were a kid. Laura knew of your love for the sea and joined you on trips to visit it every chance she got. And thats why today, to repay here, you were finally gonna teach her how to surf. Laura had been nagging you since before you had even gotten together to teach her, you had just never found the time. But today was going to be different.

Oats of the porridge finally softened, you began putting it in the respective bowls. With bananas, strawberries, 2 squares of chocolate, and a sprinkle of sugar, (same as when you were a kid).

Just as you placed the bowls on the table the blonde finally emerged from the small room in just one of your t-shirts on her that was far too long. Side by side you sat, thighs touching under the table, laughing about your day, until you'd both eaten as much as you could of the porridge, placing the bowls in the sink filled with water, letting them soak.

"y/n? What are you doing?" she asked as she noticed you packing her wetsuit as well, Laura normally opting to sit on the shore capturing your antics in the sea with whatever camera she was sporting around her neck.

"packing your wetsuit?" You answered like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Well yes i can see that sonnenschein but why?"

"Because we're going surfing?" You watched as her face dropped with disbelief.

"Really? Are you actually gonna teach me? Because normally you just say you are and then you never do, we never actually make it to the beach normally-"

"Schatz. I'm going to teach you this time I promise." You watched as her face lit up, before she buried it in your neck as she held you tight.

"Thank you liebling" She mumbles into your hair, feeling your chest rise up and down with laughter.

•

•

By the time you actually made it to the beach it was about 11am, so the little cafe on the beach was finally open, Laura buying both you and her an iced coffee claiming that you were gonna need it for the energy. Laura didn't own a board and you really didn't want to rent one cause of how expensive it would be, opting to let her borrow yours, explaining to her that it would be fine due to her only being one inch shorter than you. Luckily there was only one other surfer in the water, so you only briefly explained to the blonde the etiquette of surfers owning waves and riding them one at a time. The german slowly became eager to get into the water rushing your explanations of what to do. Meaning that as you both began to walk towards the water, you forgot to mention one slight thing.

The coldness of the English sea.

You watched as the blonde squealed as it hit her feet, you choosing to just run and dive under, popping right back up claiming to the german forward that it wasn't as cold when she fully dunked herself. Even after refusing to dunk herself due to the cold, Laura soon found herself under the water after being wiped out by a wave, you just diving under it. By the time she stands back up you're loosing it, doubling over with laughter at the fact her hair was all messed up.

3 hours had passed by the time Laura had managed to pull herself into a standing position while riding a wave, falling straight off afterwards and claiming she wanted to go back to the cottage. after helping her strip off her wetsuit and wrapping her up in a towel and leaving her to sit in the passenger seat, you stripped off your own wetsuit, got changed and got in the drivers side. Smiling at the blonde before starting the car and beginning the drive back. Not before she whispers a small "thank you", placing her hand on your thigh as you drive. Happy to of gotten to share one of the things you love most with her.

[minniethemoocherda]

You Are The Weapon I Chose: Chapter 3

A/N: I have been loving everyone's fics/arts/etc for Morpherine week! I am sorry that I haven't been able to participate in it myself as much as I would have liked! But I hope you guys enjoy this chapter for the prompt Slice Of Life! Xxxxxxx

@morpherine-events

Ao3

FF.net

"I told you to wake me ." Logan grumbled, rotating the crick out of his neck from where it had been resting against Morph's shoulder.

"Sorry." Morph said, not sounding very sorry at all. "But I did already got some Zzzs before. And besides, you needed it more."

Logan grumbled again, not finding an excuse to argue against that. He'd felt less exhausted fighting Magneto with a single hand and metallic skeleton.

He wondered if all kids were as exhausting or if it was just Laura.

He'd still barely begun to wrap his head around the idea that he had a kid.

He'd never wanted kids. He didn't want anther person to care about that he knew eventually he would lose. At least Laura had inherited his heeling factor. Then again, he knew first hand that there were some scars that could never heal. And unfortunately he knew that the kid already had more scars than she ever should have.

"I'll get started on breakfast." Morph said, interrupting his thoughts before they could spiral any further. Logan swore they must've been able to borrow people's telepathy with how often they did that.

Morph pressed a kiss to his cheek, fingernails scratching along his neck as they got up. Logan watched the soft sway of their hips as they headed down the corridor, wondering how he ever would've been able to get through this without them.

With a sigh, Logan stretched his adamantium skeleton before getting to his feet.

"You awake kid?" Logan asked as he knocked on her door.

A few seconds after the expected lack of response, he slowly opened the door.

In the dim morning light, he could make out the bright blue of her open eyes. It still felt strange to see those eyes outside of a mirror. She looked alert but not like she had been awake for hours. She probably already heard them moving around outside before he came into her room. Hopefully she got some sleep.

"C'mon, Morph's makin' breakfast." Logan told her, nodding his head towards the door.

She stared at him for a moment, and in those blue eyes, Logan could see that familiar flash of stubbornness for stubbornness sake.

But having not eaten anything in over twenty-four hours, the hunger must've won out in the end as a moment later, she was up and pushing past him out the door.

Logan could smell the scent of breakfast and Laura must've smelt them too as she didn't need any guidance on her way to the kitchen.

Within the mid-century modern tiles, Morph was humming along to some pop song on the radio as they fried at least three packs of sausages on the stove. They had Gambit's kiss the cook apron on and with how the bow rested on the curve of their ass, Logan was very tempted to take them up on that offer.

Distracted, Logan nearly stumbled into Laura who has stopped in the doorway. She glanced between the food and the rest of the room as though not sure what to make of it. It then struck Logan that the kid had probably never seen a kitchen before. He marched past her and sat himself down at the island instead of matching off and hunt down every last peice of shit who had ever been involved in that hellhole of a lab.

Laura copied him, sitting in the chair besides him, her short legs swinging off the edge of the stool.

The scene was so impossibly domestic that he felt he'd been shot in the head.

He didn't deserve this. Not after all the shit he'd done. But Morph was giving him that look that again made him wonder if they could read minds. Because he knew that they knew what he was thinking. And that he wasn't going to say it because he knew what they would say since the pair of them had talked about it too many times. That Morph had been through the same shit he had. So did they not deserve this either? Which was a fucking stupid question because of cause they fucking did! They deserved everything! And if they did then, maybe Logan could have this too.

"Good morning Laura." Morph smiled, once again interrupting Logan from his own head. "If you're anything like you're Daddy, then I'm sure you've probably got a big appetite."

Laura stomach grumbled in response.

"That's why I like to hear." Morph laughed, placing a pile of sausages in front of he, before placing another in front of Logan. "Your Daddy likes some sausage in the morning too."

Logan choked before he'd even put any food in his mouth.

Morph didn't even try to hide their giggle.

Grumbling, Logan sliced one of the sausages with his left claws before stabbing one of the pieces with his right.

He was about to take a bite when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laura do the exact same thing.

Morph gave him a pointed look.

Logan sighed. He picked up his knife and fork, cutting up his food and guiding it to his mouth in the traditional way.

Laura watched. And took a bite out of the one still on her claws.

Logan shrugged.

"You want ketchup on that?" He asked.

"Logan!" Morph chastised as though after that earlier comment they too didn't also need a refresh on appropriate breakfast behaviour.

"What?" Logan protested, trying his best not to dribble ketchup onto Laura's claws. "I'll teach her not to stab people first. Then we can get to table manners."

Logan turned his attention back to his own meal when-

"Daddy?"

Logan froze, for a moment convinced that his enhanced hearing was playing tricks on him. Then he heard it again.

"Daddy? More ketchup?"

It probably wasn't her first word. Or heck maybe it was. But it was definitely the first word he'd heard come out of her mouth. Logan had sat through enough of Morph's made for TV family channel films to be familiar with the scene when a parent hears their baby call them that for the first time. Logan had always thought that moment was something made for movies not in real life. And as anyone would tell you The Wolverine was not a crier but right now Logan felt like they could cry with the realisation that fuck he really was a father now and that he loved his daughter more than life itself.

Morph didn't have the same reservations, openly sniffling over the pan.

Lost in his own head, Logan hadn't realised that they never gave an answer until Laura froze. Her claws, drew closer to her chest, protective of her meagre meal. As though simply asking for more sauce was too selfish of a request.

Logan made a vow that he was going to personally send every last person who'd ever set foot in that facility to hell.

But first-

"Darlin' you can have as much ketchup as you fuckin' want."

[applesaucesims]

After putting little Louis to bed, Emma was quick to fall asleep herself, leaving Niall awake by himself. He had too many worries going around his head to be able to get any rest, so he stuck to taking comfort in his liquor. However, he was startled when he heard the doorbell ring. Surprised to see his friend Laura at the door, he let her in anyway. He could use the distraction. But nothing could have prepared him for the news that she had come to deliver.

Of course Niall knew the troubles of keeping your private life out of the public eye, when you were in the film business, especially when that life was even slightly outside the norm. It was something he was constantly thinking and worrying about, even now that he was married with child. So, he understood why Laura and Franklin were planning this marriage of convenience, although he wished it did not have to be so.

He had been doing well enough, without having to face his fears about the future and his career, as well as that of his friends. It was already too much to deal with and, now that he had a family to care for, too, it was like his life was just a constant flow of stress. Until now, the alcohol had always been a way to escape it, but perhaps Laura was right. He would not be able to make it through this on his own. Eventually, he would have to speak to Emma about his worries.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Niall: "Laura?"

Laura: "Hello, darling. So, won't you let me in?"

Niall: "Oh, yes, of course."

...

Laura: "Sorry to keep you at this late hour."

Niall: "Oh, it's fine. I wasn't going to sleep any time soon."

Laura: "I see. Well, I just wanted to come by and let you know before you get the letter."

Niall: "Letter? Sounds serious."

Laura: "Not really. Well, kind of."

Laura: "You know that, in our line of work, rumours only grow. I feel it's going to catch up with me soon. It would be even worse for Franklin."

Laura: "We've decided to get married. To each other."

Niall: "Wait, what? How? He doesn't even like women. You don't like... either."

Laura: "That's exactly my point, genius."

Laura: "People talk, Niall. There's only so much you can do to avoid it from affecting our careers."

Laura: "I mean, we do love each other a lot. And we've thought about living together for a while now. Plus, I get the fabulous dress and the party, so there really is no downside!"

Niall: *groans*

Laura: "You alright?"

Niall: "My head is killing me. Maybe I should get another drink."

Laura: "You look like you've had enough already, no?"

Niall: "Please, I don't know how you can even take any of this sober. And I've got a child now, too!"

Niall: "Emma is taking it so well, and the baby loves her! I don't know why it seems so hopeless for me. I know not much expected from fathers, but I want to bond with my son, too!"

Laura: "Raising a child is a lot of work, but you're not alone in this. For starters, why don't you talk to your wife about this? Sure beats drowning your feelings in booze."

Niall: "I just feel so lost, Laura."

Laura: "I tell you, talk to your wife. But first, go get some sleep."

Niall: "Right."

Laura: "Well, goodnight, darling! I'll see you two at the wedding, then."

Niall: "Night, Laura."

[saints-who-never-existed]

Davechella Week Five: John Bridgens

Well, I'm a full Steward behind after last Sunday's Joppening but nevertheless, here I am! Didn't expect to like the vibes of this one as much as I do - hope you do too! :)

The Fairy King's Courtship - Malinky If I were to go with a man I don’t know/ My parents and friends would be angry with me/ They’d bring me back again with shame and disdain/ So I am not willing to go with thee From your friends we will sail in a ship that won’t fail/ With silken topsail and a wonderful flight/ And from this to Coleraine, to France and to Spain,/ And home back again in one short night. For there is not a fort from this to the north/ But we’ll dance all around it and sing merrily/ And the lads of Queen Anne shall be at your command/ And they will all stand in great dread of thee. For it’s many’s the mile I have roamed in my time/ By land and by sea a-looking for thee/ For I ne’er could find rest nor peace to my mind/ Until fortune proved kind and sent you to me.

Catch and Kiss - Blazin' Fiddles

Like Real People Do - Hozier I will not ask you where you came from/ I will not ask you and neither would you/ Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips/ We should just kiss like real people do I could not ask you where you came from/ I could not ask you, neither could you/ Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips/ We could just kiss like real people do

Rambling Man - Laura Marling Well, beaten, battered, and cold/ My children will live just to grow old/ But if I sit here and weep/ I'll be blown over by the slightest of breeze And the weak need to be led/ And the tender are carried to their bed/ And it's been a cold affair/ And I'll be damned if I'll be found there But give me to a rambling man/ Let it always be known that I was who I am

February Relaxing Her Fingers After a Long Winter's Grip - Jason Webley Wake up with only echoes in my arms/ Wake up with echoes in my arms/ Echoes in my arms make me empty/Make me empty/ Make me empty/ Make me empty And a touch can make this old flesh new again/ Amen Yes, a touch can make this old flesh new again/ Amen

Winter Trees - The Staves But you didn't understand/ That my heart was in your hands/ You were so blind/ Blind I promised you that I'd never let you down/ Oh but I couldn't love you any less than now/ And I promised you that I'd never let you down/ Oh but I couldn't love you any less than I do now And I lost myself on that November night/ White winter trees/ Covered in snow/ I don't mind

Grand Etang/Hull's Reel - Alasdair Fraser & Natalie Haas

Follow the Heron - Karine Polwart In darkness we cradled our sorrow/ And stoked all our fires with fear/ These bones that lie empty and hollow/ Are ready for gladness to cheer Long may you sing of the salmon/ And the snow-scented sound of your home/ While the north wind delivers its sermon/ Of ice and salt water and stone By night and day we’ll sport and we’ll play/ And delight as the dawn dances over the bay/ Sleep blows the breath of the morning away/ And we follow the heron home

Goodbye England (Covered in Snow) - Laura Marling And I'm out on my own/ It's too hard/ I'm out on my own/ It's too hard Feel like running/ Feel like running/ Running off And we will keep you/ We will keep you little one/ Safe from harm/ Like an extra arm, you are a part of us You were so smart then/ In your jacket and coat/ My softest red scarf was warming your throat/ Winter will leave us/ Left the end of my nose/ Well, goodbye old England until next year's snow

Ae Fond Kiss - Rachel Sermanni Had we never loved sae kindly Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met—or never parted We had ne'er been broken-hearted. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy Naething could resist my Nancy; For to see her was to love her Love but her, and love for ever. Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever Ae fareweel, alas, for ever.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

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Six months later.

It's so beautiful.

Green grass under the warm sun. A fresh breeze stirred the decorative flags that were hung all over the capital Mondstadt. Gothic architecture is still strong and stands as the main attraction of this country. The river that flowed outside the great wall was reflecting the white clouds that extended beneath the azure sky. Those who are busy with their daily activities are surrounded by the scent of dandelions. Little ones are playing and running around.

Mondstadt is so beautiful. Unfortunately, you spend all day sleeping on the soft bed provided in one of the palace rooms for royal guests.

Childe left the room early in the morning for a diplomatic meeting, so the opposite side of the bed has been vacant for a while. You (thought) you managed to persuade Sasha to let you sleep a little longer, but instead she assumed you were sick and immediately asked Laura to find Childe.

“Love?”

Here he is. You pulled the covers over your head, trying to ignore the sound of his approaching footsteps. The end of the bed was pressed down and you guessed he was sitting next to you. Slowly, Childe pulled your covers up to look at you.

"Are you sick? Want me to call a healer?”

You shook your head quickly, "I simply want to sleep a bit longer."

Childe glanced at Sasha who was standing not far from the two of you before turning back to you. "But, angel, you've slept all day, and they said you have to attend a tea party this afternoon. Well, I don't mind if you don't but, are you sure you're alright?” He brushed away the strands of hair covering your face.

"I'll be fine. Just.. give me one more hour of sleep.” You spoke drowsily and then shut your eyes once again.

Childe frowned in worry. "Are you sure? Should I stay? I can tell them I have urgent business and leave the conference—”

"Don't be silly, Ajax." You opened your eyes to glare at him. “Why do I feel you’re trying to make me as an excuse to get out of your responsibilities?”

A laugh from him. “Hey, I was really worried you know.” He says.

"I told you I'm fine. I'm not going to die, at least not now."

"I thought we agreed not to have talks like this again." Childe stares in disappointment and you can't help but laugh.

"Good God, I was just kidding." You cupped his face with one hand. “Stop sulking like a baby. I might actually ask you to stay and cuddle with me."

A smile appeared on his handsome face as he drew closer to you, “Hmm? What's stopping you?"

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Sasha and the other two were trying hard to deaf their ears to the conversation you both thought was quiet enough for them not to hear. Her eyes darted to the walls of the room as if that was the most interesting thing. At least that will distract her from you and Childe who are too preoccupied with each other to notice anyone else's presence.

A kiss on your lips. “I'll hurry back for you alright? Don't look at other men at the tea party." You almost roll your eyes at his words.

“It’s a tea party only for the ladies.”

"You can never be too careful."

Childe got out of bed and you already started to miss his warmth. He briefly spoke to Sasha, saying that she should immediately call a healer if anything should happen to you. After giving you one more glance (and a wink), he walks to the door to Dmitri outside the room.

A sigh left you before you got up reluctantly asking your maids to prepare warm water for a bath.

One rosewater bath later and you're sitting at the dresser. Laura did your hair, while Ksenia applied your makeup. She patted the powder pad so gently you yawned. Sasha noticed this and stared suspiciously at your reflection in the mirror. You took a deep breath trying to relieve the tiredness in your body.

"We are finished, Your Majesty." Laura and Ksenia said together.

You said a small thank you to them then got up from the chair. Laura opened the door for you, letting you leave the room first. Your three ladies-in-waiting followed behind you on your way to the garden where the tea party was being held.

Warm air hugs you as soon as you step into the palace garden. Butterflies and a few small insects flutter and land on the colorful flowers that grow around you—you almost forget how beautiful they are after living on Snezhnaya for so long. Once more, the wind blows. The sun falls to illuminate your path to the gazebo with a white iron roof where a table spread out with beautiful cloth is located. The sound of your footsteps turned the heads of the Mondstadt nobles, and you smiled at them all.

“Empress (Y/N), good afternoon.” The blonde-haired woman—Countess Jean—carved a thin smile with her polished pink lips.

Some Mondstadt nobles you've never met before welcome you. Jean stood next to them while helping introduce them one by one to you. “This is Lady Fischl, daughter of Duke Verurteilung of Immernachtreich.” A green-eyed blonde bowed politely at you before giving an enthusiastic look.

“Empress! I, Fischl, hast known all kinds regarding thou, especially how  they define thy grace and beauty as being comparable to the stars that adorn the welkin at dusk. Wouldst  I may add, thy lovely gown caught mine eye and wondered where I might find some one with such stitching talent!”

"Ah? Um..” While trying to figure out what she said, you lifted the hem of your dress slightly. "This was made by a Snezhnayan tailor."

“'tis decided. I shall cross mountains and sail oceans to meet this tailor!"

Jean cleared her throat awkwardly. “Lady Fischl, may I continue?” she asked, earning a nod.

After Countess Jean introduced you to the Mondstadt nobles who were present at the tea party, Princess Ayaka waved enthusiastically. “Princess—! Ah, I mean, Empress! Please sit next to me!” She pointed out the empty chair next to her.

Jean watched as everyone had taken a seat. She then continued, “Since King Diluc doesn't yet have a partner to handle the tea party, I'm the one responsible for this. For that, allow me to present traditional Mondstadt delicacies for overseas guests to taste.” She signaled the maid to put the snacks on the table.

A cake covered with pink cream and fresh raspberries is set in the middle. Lemon buttercream cakes make you smile seeing their small size. You looked around the table as Jean described each dish. The cookies placed in front of Ayaka appeared to be delicious.

What smells like boiled eggs wafts into your nostrils, and you instinctively cover your mouth to hide the nausea that's roiling in your gut. Ayaka immediately got a handkerchief for you. Sasha who is sitting at the table along with other nobles ladies-in-waiting rushes over to you.

“Princess!” Ayaka mistakenly called out from panic.

“Your Majesty! Is something the matter?!”

You were too occupied trying to ease your nausea as you covered your nose with a blue handkerchief to respond to Sasha. Jean orders one of the maids to call a healer. You glance out of the corner of your eye for the source of the pungent scent.

"That.. the smell.. get rid of it, please." You said after finding a loaf of boiled eggs not far from Jean. "I'm sorry but, the smell .."

Jean followed your gaze and nodded quickly. “No need to worry, Empress (Y/N).” He gave the plate of bread to the maid to take away. "The healer will come soon."

A server arrives with a new meal just as your nausea begins to subside. The smell of eggs returned. The handkerchief was tightened over your lips as the shaking of your stomach intensified. Sasha noticed your face beginning to flush and rose up from her kneeling position in front of you to approach Jean.

“Your Excellency, I'd better take Her Majesty to a healer right away. Please accept my apologies for leaving the tea party early.” He says.

“I understand. Please, lead them to the healer's room!”

In response to the blonde's request, one of the maids nodded. Sasha and Ksenia put strong hands on your shoulders helping to support you while stroking your back. Laura pulls out a bottle of fragrance trying to ease your nausea. The long hallway was filled with hurried footsteps on the way to the healing room. After passing through the door, the royal healer immediately tells you to lean on the red velvet couch.

The first thing she did was check your pulse. Her warm fingers touch your skin as she furrows her brows in concentration. She pursed her lips thinly, asking about your monthly cycle—which Sasha answered in detail. You feel awkward knowing she knows about it more than you do.

The healer nodded while retaining an assumed diagnosis. "I already have a suspicion, but I'll need to confirm it again." She dipped her hands in a basin of clean water before turning back to you while making sure her palms were raised; you watched as the water dripped down her elbow. "I must request that you remove your dress, Your Majesty."

Although the examination is uncomfortable, you know that it is necessary for the healer to confirm the diagnosis. After she was done, Sasha helped you put on your clothes again while waiting for the woman to tell you what was wrong.

"There are several reasons besides pregnancy that can affect your late monthly cycle, such as stress or fatigue. However, after I combined that with the nausea caused by the strong smell—the smell of eggs as one of them—and the physical examination just now that revealed enlarged breasts and changes in areola—I can confirm that you are pregnant.”

Laura and Ksenia gasped with joy. Sasha smiled silently. While you are frozen.

The healer's lips curved up, “Congratulations, Empress (Y/N). You are with child.”

Something defines the brilliance of this world's hues. The basin is no fuller than your heart which flows happiness and emotion to every inch of you. The realization that there is another life growing inside your tummy sweetens the air. You want to set your foot on every green meadow here to let them know that you are the happiest human being on earth.

As you covered your mouth to contain your sobs, your hold on the fabric of your dress' grew tighter. Your maids approach you to congratulate you. You couldn't help but extend your arms and hug all three of them. Women celebrating other women's blessings

You wiped your tears, looking at Sasha with a smile.

"Please don't tell him just yet."

Sasha's eyes widen from that, but what she gives you next is a smile—a warm one. You wouldn't have realized she was holding you if it wasn't for the light squeeze she gave; her way of telling you that she will continue to be with you and wants nothing but the best for you and now, your child. Laura and Ksenia congratulated you, saying they would do their best to accompany you on your pregnancy journey.

Aside from the promise made by Sasha, it's another one that makes you smile with blushing cheeks.

In your room, Sasha instructed Ksenia to prepare warm water for a bath while Laura hurried to inform Jean that you were unwell and couldn't continue the tea party. The ball is being held tonight—that's reason enough for Sasha to force you to stay in bed and take plenty of rest.

When they dress you in a mauve dress for the ball, your ladies-in-waiting make sure not to tie the bodice too tightly. Diamonds and gems accessorize your neck, ears and fingers. You try to hold back a smile when you see the door swing open showing Childe ready in his nice suit. He leans against the arm of the couch, blue eyes sweeping across your back carving a thin grin before he meets yours and gives you his usual wink.

"We are done, Your Majesty." Sasha told you.

"Thank you." You got up from your seat, not missing the enthusiastic stares of your ladies-in-waiting.

Childe holds out his hand to receive yours. He squeezed it gently before bringing it to his lips, a chaste kiss you received from him. "Are you sure we shouldn't skip the ball and cuddle the night away?"

“Absolutely. Besides, I heard that Mondstadt has the best wine.” You reasoned that even if you knew full well, there would be no alcohol going down your throat tonight and in the months to come.

"Firewater is still better in my opinion." Childe said, leading you to the door.

The sound of music is heard the second you enter the ballroom. A resounding blend of harp and piano throughout the opulence. Many of the guests had dragged themselves onto the dance floor, their partners clutched tightly in their hands. You and Childe get greetings from several familiar faces, but not a few Mondstadt nobles who you don't recognize have the courage and courtesy to introduce themselves and give a warm welcome.

“Emperor Childe.”

When Childe and you turned around, two men were standing there, one with red hair and the other with dark blue strands. Both of them had long hair, with the only distinction being the height of their ponytails.

“King Diluc.” Your husband holds out his hand for a handshake.

Diluc Ragnvindr. The red-haired King of Mondstadt who reminds you of fire. You wonder if he's hiding a smoldering spirit behind his polite face. He was present in another set of his dapper suit. Unlike at Snezhnaya's recent banquet, he appeared with his long hair pulled up into a higher-than-usual ponytail.

Diluc gave you a brief nod before turning to the man next to him. “Allow me to introduce my brother. This is Duke Kaeya. Perhaps you have not met." He said, making your attention fall on the man wearing an eye patch.

“Ah, right. This is the first time we have met, Duke Kaeya.” Childe shook his hand.

Kaeya painted faint dimples on his tan skin. "It is an honor to meet in person such a wise person as you, the Emperor and Empress of Snezhnaya." He gave Childe a friendly smile, which you swear turned into something else when he swept his dark eyes across you.

Diluc's red eyes widened as he watched Kaeya hold out his hand asking for yours. He didn't have to do this, but he chose to do it. Childe watched as you offered your hand hesitantly. A kiss that was too long for Childe not to think anything of it landed on the back of your hand. Kaeya opened his eyes to look at you accompanied by a smile that had a meaning behind it.

“Welcome to Mond, Empress (Y/N).”

If looks could burn, Kaeya would have already emptied all the drinks in here to quell the fire that was searing him. You swear you heard Childe pulled out a light scoff. Kaeya straightened his back again with an expression close to satisfaction.

“Ahem.”

Diluc made a fake cough noise, but it was more to remind Kaeya to keep his boundaries than to break the uneasy silence between the four of you. "Kaeya is known to be friendly with others, so I hope you don't take it the wrong way, Your Majesties." He says.

Childe laughed dryly. “Does this mean Duke Kaeya is also friendly enough to take me on a little tour around Mond?” His voice is sweet, but you know the intent in it contrasts from that.

"Why, of course, Your Majesty." Kaeya smiled widely and placed his right hand on his left chest. "It would be my pleasure.”

This situation is too heavy. You want nothing more than someone to save you from this and luckily, Diluc has the ability to read that. "If you'll excuse us, we have to greet the other guests." He then turned to the buffet. "Do enjoy your time with banquets and refreshing drinks like grape juice."

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” You said.

Childe and you turned the other way while Diluc and Kaeya started walking toward the other nobles. You take a deep breath before emptying your lungs again.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop picking fights with every man I talk to."

"He was flirting with you." Childe stopped in his tracks.

You hastily put your hand in front of his lips stopping him from letting out a longer protest. "Could you get me a glass of grape juice?" you ask him.

Childe furrowed his brows, "Not wine?" You shake your head.

Although not completely convinced, Childe gives you a kiss on the hand then tells you to stay here. You see his figure walking to the buffet table. His broad shoulders make you smile. You sweep your eyes around to relieve boredom.

Strands of blonde caught your eye. You remember she has longer hair; now it falls a little lower than her earlobes. The woman with gold eyes was spinning in an orange gown, in the arms of a man with nearly the same hair color as her. His eyes could still be seen through the mask that covered the right portion of his face.

The smile on Lumine's face was so wide it radiated happiness.

Footsteps draw your attention to Childe, who is holding a glass of grape juice and another of what you assume is dandelion wine. He handed you one. You stared at the liquid before taking a gulp, feeling the sweet taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?"

You nodded, "It tastes better than I imagined."

"Wanna bring home ten barrels of it?"

A laugh from you. "One bottle is enough, Ajax." You said.

In the midst of a sea of people, a figure stands out for some reason; you're not sure why; it could be his complex fancy suits, the way he carries himself, the power in his gaze, or the fact that you've known him all your life. You greet your old friend with a smile on your face.

Zhongli made strides towards you with a handsome smile. Under the extravagant chandeliers, amber eyes sparkled beautifully. Childe did not take his blue eyes off his every move.

The man stops right in front of you for a bow, "Your Majesties."

Weird to hear that from him. Even though it had been six months ago Childe had inherited the throne and three months ago Snezhnaya had declared it an imperial state; You think you'll never get used to all this. Let alone one that came out of Zhongli.

"Duke." Childe gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“Duke Zhongli.” You called him enthusiastically. "It's.. a surprise to find you here."

Zhongli nodded, “His Majesty Emperor Shiva is unable to attend. I've come to represent him at his request.” He says.

“Make sure you do well, Duke.” Childe commented.

Zhongli pretended to be blind by the sharp glare Childe gave him. “I appreciate the concern—

"Who said I was concerned?"

“—but, everything is well.” Zhongli continued despite being interrupted by him.

Your lips were about to part to change the topic to break the pressure between the two when a woman bumped into Zhongli and spilled her glass on him. Her voice is sweet, making you turn to look at her and stop in place.

“O-oh my! I'm so sorry! I was careless and—”

A laugh from Zhongli. "Nothing to worry about. Are you alright?”

Zhongli asked the woman—the woman you saw in your vision. You're completely convinced after casting a glance at the hanfu she's wearing. Zhongli continued to talk to her with a big smile that seemed to be permanently etched on his face.

"This is my first time here, and I've already ruined someone's expensive suit. I'm truly sorry!” The woman kept apologizing to Zhongli.

"As I said, this is nothing, Lady..?"

“Guizhong! My name is Guizhong.”

Guizhong.

Guizhong appeared in front of you with everything that made you believe she would be a good fit for Zhongli. You watched her give him a blue handkerchief. Long fine strands of hair. She's clumsy, but you find that to be cute. You wonder if Zhongli thinks so too. They were lost in their new conversation and every word they exchanged dripped happiness into the depths of your heart.

The promised happy ending had at last arrived.

“Duke Zhongli, Lady Guizhong, “You have their attention.

Guizhong looked at you and then at Childe before bowing deeply in regret. “Goodness! Your Majesties! M-may prosperity and health be bestowed on you! I'm sorry I should have realized sooner." She tightly shut her eyes after hearing your chuckle.

"Please rise. Forgive the interruption but, we'll leave you both to your talk."

Zhongli turned to face Childe who was grinning happily at you. "Now?" he asked.

"Yes." You turned your gaze on the area where people were dancing. “I suddenly want to dance.” You turned to Childe. “Perhaps the Duke can bring Lady Guizhong for one.” You said to Zhongli.

Those amber eyes stared at you in curiosity and confusion. In your heart, there is one thing you want to tell him: that happiness is close to him. But, just as Zhongli and Guizhong gave nods and let you go, you twisted your heels and tightened your grip on Childe's arm.

"That’s scary." Your husband comments.

“What is?”

Childe slowed down as he reached the dance floor. "Your smile. You look like you've planned something and it's working." He put his hand on your waist.

A chuckle escaped your lips. You put your hand on his shoulder, and he starts picking up on the melodic tempo of the music. “If so, will you stop sulking and dance properly?” You see the annoyance reflected on his face again.

"How could I not when nearly every in the room—in all of Tevyat—was trying to flirt with my wife?"

"They were just talking to me, Ajax." you corrected.

“They were flirting with you, angel. Don't try to manipulate my memory."

A sigh comes out a sign you give up arguing with him. Childe took you for a twirl. "You are the most jealous man I have ever known." You then continued, "I can't imagine how you'd react when the other one showed up."

The frown in the middle of his brow deepened before his limbs came to a complete stop. He gave you a dumbfounded look. “Wait, what are you—” His expression now full of hurt. "—you're.. you have another man?" He spoke with trembling, and you stifled a laugh in the guilt that you were covering up.

"Well," Your hand tried to lead him to dance again but, Childe refused to move his feet before you answered him. "After all, I'm still not sure if it'll be a boy or a girl, right?"

Confusion hit him like a tsunami even though his betrayed expression was still there. “A boy or a girl? What kind of nonsense are you playing—”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words died suddenly on the tip of his tongue. Childe stared at you with wide blue eyes. The blood seemed to be drained from his face before returning to fill his cheeks.

For him, the world came to a halt for a brief minute. His brain stopped functioning. His ears suddenly went deaf leaving your voice and those words repeating over and over in his head. His mouth gaped open. His heart was pounding inside his ribs pumping out the feelings he was still digesting. Then a tsunami of happiness washed over him, so overwhelming that his lips curved and he sobbed as he took you in his arms.

It was one moment he wished could stay forever. Even so, Childe—Ajax, is aware that there will be more happy things in the future. With you, with now—his unborn baby. At the same time, Childe felt and desired a lot.

In the middle of the melodies that flowed from a combination of piano and harp, you hugged him even tighter. He is the luckiest man in the world. His heart felt like it was wrapped in satin and moonlight. You laugh, but it's his chest that warms. What a dream this is, and God has the generosity to make it not end up as one. Perhaps He knows: happiness should come in the form of a really sweet fruit for two human beings who have suffered for a long time.

Childe gave you a smile before laying a kiss on your lips. He didn't mind if he had attracted everyone's attention as a result. The music could stop but, he wouldn't with this. He placed another one, still not caring if people would label him unethical.

“I,”—he kissed you again—“love,”—another one—“you.” He said in between kisses.

You both left the ballroom early that evening. The moonlight filtering in through the opened window illuminates the bed where you lie down for a cuddle. The wind of Mondstadt's capital is finally appreciated the next day in the lush meadows.

"Please be born healthy." Childe speaks to your still unnoticeable pregnant belly before giving it a small kiss.

The blue sky stretches above the white clouds. He held your hand as you walked down the grassy path. The gurgling waterfall sounded faint. Dandelion blooms swayed and then scattered into the air. On a wooden chair with a view of a statue in the center of a lake, the two of you decide to take a break.

"I wonder how Shiva will react to this." You start the conversation.

Childe's shoulders shook as he laughed. "He will definitely kill me. For impregnating my wife." You join in the louder laugh.

There was a silence before you lifted your head from his shoulder to say, "About that grape juice.." Childe looked at you curiously. "I don't think ten barrels will be enough."

Childe carved a smile. The two of you returned to enjoy the sight ahead.

"Twenty it is."

AbbyBianx, ness

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Check out more of my post: WRITING COMMISSION

[disregardcanon]

semi-realistic thoughts about where the yellowjackets and co might be in 2021 if the plane HAD crashed but they got rescued before laura lee died because misty never found the black box

tai- in exactly the same place, but with better coping mechanisms and a stable and realistic relationship with simone. sammy still has some issues because tai represses stuff and is still a politician who’s keeping secrets about the wilderness, but tai actually does let him get the therapy he needs. she’s still close to shauna and akilah, and she wishes that she could be close with van, but things are weird there. she always knew van wanted different things out of life than she did, but it was a lot harder to break things off after they lived through a plane crash and a few months in the wilderness together.

van- jack of all trades, master of none. she’s been a summer camp counselor all over the country, done bit parts in lots of movies, was on jeopardy once, managed a spirit halloween, got involved in cutco knives before she realized it was an mlm, worked at an amusement park, taught english to kids in different countries (never with the US military though because that sucks), worked at a ski resort. she’s had a lot of girlfriends that never really stuck, but she’s glad for all of them. she still talks to quite a few of the yellowjackets, but it’s... hard. when she talks to tai. taissa the accomplished lawyer and now state senator thinks that she should settle down, and that’s a little hard to hear from the high school girlfriend who dropped van when she went off to college.

coach ben- after his experience in the wilderness with the girls and losing his leg, there is absolutely NO way he’s going back to teaching. he tries to make things right with paul and after some work, he ends up moving in with paul in the city. paul’s a writer already, so ben gives it a try and does some comedy columns and sports columns.

nat- had a couple of years right after high school where she was drifting and on just about every drug in the book until she accidentally runs into ben and paul at a party and ben’s like oh my god NATALIE!??! and makes her sleep on their couch for a while. eventually she ends up making weird art and coaching a kids’ soccer team. she has some short term romantic relationships with both men and women but none of them ever really stick.

misty and crystal- coach very gently told her when they were in the hospital that he was gay and not interested. and she was like “oh you figured it out because i was so wonderful and you weren’t attracted to me, so you knew you couldn’t like girls?” and he sighed and went. yes misty. that’s how. and she put a hand on his shoulder and said “how brave. how inspiring” and then misty started telling this story to any teammate who would listen. crystal was the only one who didn’t roll her eyes and she was like “omg, a gay teacher? like in the children’s hour????” and then they become best friends going into the next year of school. misty doesn’t HAVE a secret that’s big enough to break them up so they just. stay together.

misty stays on as the equipment manager but mainly just to cheer on her bestie and they join theater together. they don’t do very well but they LOVE it, and they decide to go to the same college to be roommates. crystal becomes a quirky high school theater teacher and misty still becomes a concerning RN who dates and intimidates weird little guys, but they live together and are like, what, gay? *pft* no, we’re besties! and they are, but god are they weird about it

laura lee and lottie- lottie’s parents made her go to the same ivy that her dad went to, and she really hates it, even though she does her best and gets her degree. (i’m thinking some kind of counseling/leadership) laura lee goes to a bible college that skews too conservative for her and she hates it too, so much that she decides to drop out until she can figure out where she DOES want to go. a lot of soulsearching and mishaps later, and lottie is taking on a youth minister position at a nondenominational hippie dippie queer loving church and inviting laura lee to check it out, and laura lee falls in LOVE WITH IT and then goes straight into the seminary she can find that best lines up with her own values. they become a power couple and get married in 2004 as soon as it’s legal. they end up with a congregation that isn’t very large but is dedicated and does a lot of good in their area.

travis and javi- coach martinez still died, so things are hard, but not nearly as hard as in canon. they work through his death as best as they can with their mom, and travis stays at home the next year to go to community college before leaving home. javi makes him join a dungeons and dragons campaign and it actually helps him a lot with the Big Feelings Time. travis goes into something that his dad thought was nerdy and not masculine enough but that he likes and is good at, and javi becomes an artist. he and shauna collaborate sometimes on projects <3. also travis and jackie become weird friends at community college

mari- she’s an mlm girlie but one that is Proud! Of! It! she’s got a big enough downline that she actually supports herself this way, even though it.... still sucks and is soulsucking. but it lets her be a little bitchy, do tasks, and be kind of in charge and kind of not in charge and mari DOES like that.

melissa and gen- let them play soccer together in college because they were on the fabled yellowjackets team that never got to go to nationals as well as the one that WON! let melissa get butcher. let gen have a sexuality crisis as she gets jealous about girls falling all over her best friend. let them be soccer lesbians who eventually move to denver and buy a subaru

akilah- they find out that shauna’s pregnant before they’re rescued and right before laura lee’s able to make her incredible journey. akilah the girl scout finds herself worrying about what might have happened if they had to deliver a baby out there, even though they DIDN’T. then she does a lot of research into the subject on top of studying for her SAT and finds out about maternal mortality rates in the united states, especially among black women like her and her sister. she decides to become an OBGYN to try to fight the problem, and despite the hardships, she makes it happen. she also gets to upset her sister with terrible pregnancy fun facts, which is what siblings are for

jackie- has a blowout fight with shauna about the jeff thing after they get back, straining her relationships with every member of the team. she still tries at college, but she rushes and doesn’t get a bid for a single sorority (she’s going through a crisis where she’s realized she’s a lesbian and doesn’t know what to do with that and also. is very depressed and angry), her potluck roommate doesn’t like her, and her classes are so hard now without shauna to help. she doesn’t know how to ask for help and things spiral for the two semesters it takes for her to get kicked out of college. she’s home the summer afterward, with her parents desperately trying to get her to figure out a different college or go out with jeff again (we understand what he did, but you aren’t exactly... rolling in prospects right now) and she’s just going crazy in her room.

shauna and jackie- shauna gets an abortion and does go to brown! she’s really upset with where things ended with jackie, but she’s still close to tai and some of the other girls and she’s exploring her bisexuality at college, so she’s doing okay javi sends her drawings sometimes, and that’s nice. when she comes home over her first summer and sees jackie absolutely rotting... she feels awful enough to try to mend the bridge. it doesn’t totally work, but by the end of the season they’re on speaking terms again, and over the next few holiday breaks they become tentative friends again, then good friends, then homoerotic girls who are dancing around each other.

jackie tries out the community college thing and tries hanging out with jeff again, who’s working at his parents’ furniture store. her parents are convinced they’re dating and jeff kind of is too and jackie... tries to see if she can fix herself. she forces herself to let it be dating and then they have sex and it feels wrong and weird and bad... but she does it. and jeff’s magical sperm does its thing.

timeline-wise the pregnancy becomes clear about 3 months before shauna’s graduation from brown/jackie’s graduation from the community college. (she and travis are weird friends there. no i’m not elaborating but it happened) and her parents are freaking out and trying to get her and jeff to get married right now immediately to save face, and jackie just. cries. and calls shauna. and cries some more. and they have a heart to heart and confess some feelings and decide that they’ll try dating and kinda. raise the baby together. (it’s callie yay!)

jackie isn’t going to be able to move in with shauna until after she finishes this semester and gets a bigger place, and her parents are livid that she refused jeff’s offer and is still keeping the baby! (they don’t even know she’s a lesbian yet) so she has to move in temporarily with the martinezes javi shows her lots of art pieces and is like “would shauna like this?” and the answer is always yes.

eventually, shauna becomes an editor for the local paper and a fiction writer. jackie stays home with bby callie for a bit and then cycles between different odd jobs for a while as she tries to find a good fit. she eventually ends up as middle management at a small company where she does a whole lot of team-building exercises that everyone pretends to hate until she pulls out the prizes

[atths--twice]

Hello!! For the WIP ask game: Arcadia :)

Ohhhh this is a fun one I started a few years back.

It’s different from my other stories as it’s in first person present tense, and it will be solely from Scully’s perspective. We will see the in between moments we didn’t see on the show. Moving in, unpacking of sorts, how they handle the aspect of living together and dealing with one another that way, and get Scully’s thoughts about it all.

Now, I know not everyone loves first person, but I thought it would be fun to explore.

Because I know it will be awhile before I post this, I’m going to include two little snippets.

The first is from their arrival to the neighborhood.

The second is from a discussion they have in bed when Mulder comes back to the room, claiming that the couch had been uncomfortable the night before.

Hope you enjoy!

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February 24, 1999

I hear Mulder humming, and immediately I’m back to loathing this assignment, my recent feeling of being okay with it, although a little nervous, disappearing.

I’m trapped in a minivan with him, on our way to an undercover assignment, and the thought of running away as soon as I possibly can sounds like a fantastic plan.

He’s been humming “Here Comes the Bride” and “Chapel of Love” sporadically under his breath for the past couple of days, and it’s beginning to drive me insane. I’ve tried glaring at him, telling him to stop, and even threatened him with physical harm, and yet he has continued.

With a wink to me no less.

The bastard.

“Mulder, seriously,” I say with force, as I simultaneously scowl at him, hoping that will be what does the trick.

“Scully, we are going to be portraying ourselves as a happily married couple. I’m just trying to lay the groundwork for us. Get us in the mood, so to speak,” he explains with an innocent tone.

But I know him, and that aw shucks attitude of his isn’t going to stop me from wanting to smack that cheesy grin off of his face. I sigh and he smiles, obviously believing he has proven his point and won this battle.

Looking out the window, I sigh again as I think of spending days and nights with him pretending to be his happy little wife. I know he was not exactly thrilled with the assignment, but in the past couple of days that we have been here in San Diego, he seems to have gotten into the spirit of it.

At least the ‘annoy the shit out of your pretend wife’ spirit of it.

He’s called me honey more times than I can count and every one of my admonitions have fallen on deaf ears. Seeing how gleeful he is when he gets a rise out of me, I’ve seen a glimpse into my very near future.

I wonder if I would be hurt too terribly if I just jumped out of the car now.

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He looks at me and I stare back. He nods his head and then looks away. The room is silent again as we both contemplate what it would be like to have someone waiting at home for us while we lay in this bed, together, though not together.

“These rings, though,” he says with a tone of changing the subject. “Mine is fine, but is that ring something you would pick? It hardly seems like a Scully type ring to me.”

“God no,” I say in horror. “It’s a beautiful ring, but it’s not my taste at all. I would want something much more…”

“Simple,” we say simultaneously, and I look at him as he grins at me.

“We should go on the Newlywed Game,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “We would make an absolute killing. We would beat all the other couples hands-down. I know my wife.”

I laugh and shake my head. “And yet, you were the one who picked out this ring for me to wear.“

“Hey, I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I picked out the most un-Scully like ring I could find,” he says defensively. “Because you’re not Scully, you’re Laura and that is exactly the type of ring that Laura would want.”

“Oh, so you know Laura pretty well?” I tease him and he nods vigorously. “So what else do I need to know about Laura?”

“Well, for starters, Laura likes to sleep in the nude.” He looks at me with a sly expression and I laugh again, shaking my head and raising my eyebrows.

“Keep dreaming, buddy,” I say to him, still laughing at where his mind would go immediately.

“I’m just letting you know in case you wanted to get into character,” he says by way of explanation.

“Mm-hmm.”

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I really am enjoying putting this one together. Yes, it’s been a few years, but… I think it will be good once it’s all done. ❤️