#especially the scene where they are just sitting there with each other company

[add1rall]

Crazy how I just watched a straight couple fall in love in the gayest way possible

[ladysharmaa]

Heir

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant

It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.

They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.

Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.

Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.

After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.

"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.

Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."

The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"

"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.

Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.

"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"

"How lucky I am."

"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."

Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.

Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.

Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.

However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.

Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.

"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.

And since then, they've never brought it up again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"

She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.

However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.

"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.

When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.

"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"

Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."

Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.

Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.

"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."

"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.

Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.

However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.

And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.

Pregnant.

She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.

And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.

"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.

"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.

"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"

Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.

With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."

"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."

"Anthony, be nice!"

"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.

"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.

"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"

"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"

"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."

"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.

"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."

A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?

"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"

"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"

"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.

He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.

When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.

Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."

And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.

[mrsbarnesblog]

just a friend

masterlist

requests are open

summary: your best friend gets jealous when he sees you talking to some random guy at his party

words count: 3k

warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, p in v sex, protected sex, friends to lovers, possessive but softie Rafe, dirty talk, pet names

You were standing near the kitchen island, far away from everybody else, sipping on your drink and observing Rafe. The loud music busted through the speakers, there were too many unknown faces and for the hundredth time wished you had stayed at home. 

Rafe was sitting on the couch in the middle of the room with Kelse, Topper, a few other guys, and, most importantly, some random girl. She was way too touchy for your liking and it honestly seemed like she was ready to get into his pants in front of everyone. 

Rafe didn't pay much attention, though, even while she was rubbing his pants-covered thigh and saying something in his ear. No, Rafe was too interested in the conversation with his friend, but it didn't stop that nasty and overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

You and Rafe have been friends for almost three years, but it didn't seem like it. While you had neved crossed the invisible line, unknowningly for each other you both admitted to yourself that whatever was going on in between you two was not a regular friendship. Friends shouldn't sleep in each other's beds. Friends shouldn’t spend that much time together alone. Friends shouldn't be jealous every single time someone talks to their friend. And friends shouldn't be in love. 

Yet, here you were. 

You were staring at this scene for at least fifteen minutes and it drove you fucking insane. Especially the fact that Rafe had never let any man even talk to you, not to mention be all up in your face. It was so unfair that he had double standards for you and that he probably didn't even realize your feelings for him. 

Rafe was just too overprotective and possessive and you had to admit the ugly truth to yourself that it wasn't because he was in love with you. 

You finished your drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, and straightened, looking across the room full of people. There were too many guys; you spotted the one that looked kind of attractive and moved in his direction. You were done with Rafe’s bullshit. If he could have girls all over himself, so could you. 

“Hey.” You tapped on the guy’s shoulder to grab his attention. He became flirty way too quickly, stepping closer to you and giving his best smirk, yet your eyes were still drifting back to Rafe. 

You saw the exact moment when your best friend noticed your current company. You and Ed were chatting for no more than five minutes, and while he was talking about it being his plans for the night, you saw Rafe getting up from the couch with a frown on his face. He quickly crossed the room, not bothering to check on the girl who was trying to get his attention over the loud music, or say even say something to his friends. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more, his eyes going up and down the guy near you. 

“I’m talking, Rafe. Go back to your company.” You rolled your eyes, looking back at Ed. “So what were you saying? Your frie—” 

“You’re coming with me, Y/N.” Before you could even say anything, you were dragged away to the second floor, where no one could bother you. “What the fuck was that, huh? I told you like a million fucking times to not talk to the guys at these damn parties; they're goin’ to hurt you.” Rafe freed your hand, pacing in front of you and running his own hand through his hair. He was visibly annoyed and pissed, and with the way he was acting, you wanted to push his buttons even more.

"You are my friend, Rafe, and you have no fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot speak to or go out with!" You shouted back, not even in the slightest fear of the flames in his eyes, when his head snapped back towards you. 

"Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I am not going to let any fuckers with bad intentions get near you."  

"Apparently, they are the only ones who are interested in me. You seem to be always busy with all the girls who are ready to climb you.” You laughed even though it hurt you to say it out loud. “I'm sick of your double standards, Rafe. You think I want to look at you with some random girls? You think it’s okay to scare guys away from me and then casually let everyone be all over you?” 

“What the fuck does that mean? You know I am not dating anyone. They can do whatever they want because I have no plans with any of them." He rolled his eyes, already irritated that he was actually fighting with you for the first time. But there was no going back and you both felt it. The constant tension and secret feelings were overflowing and they had to find a way out. “You’re acting like a child, swear to god, babe.”

“Because you're giving me mixed signals and confusing me!” You stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. 

“You know the reason why I do this.” Rafe grabbed your wrist, slightly pulling you closer. Your eyes locked on each other, and your faces were so close that you could smell liquor his his breath. You felt the way your stomach dropped when Rafe’s eyes quickly felt to your lips, yet you were still filled with anger. 

"No, I don't! You’re giving me hope on something, you’re being affectionate with me, we’re spending all our time together, but then you just step back as if it was nothing! Just stop playing with my feelings and tell the fucking tr—-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, your body got pushed back and pressed in between the wall and Rafe’s body. His grip on your face was firm yet gentle enough to not hurt you when he brought you closer to him and finally kissed you.

You both moaned into the kiss as if you were surprised and content that it had finally happened. Rafe’s lips moved quickly, easily dominating over you, as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission to slip in. 

“I’m just a friend, huh? You’re driving me fucking insane. You’re mine, don’t you understand it?” He mumbled against your mouth, sliding one hand down your body and at the same time pushing his legs in between your thighs. He just simply wanted to pin you against the wall, but the way his thigh pressed into your pulsing core made you both hiss. “Do you really think I would let anyone kiss you? Touch you? I’m selfish, Y/N, and I don’t like to share anything or anyone.” You felt as if you were high or drunk with the way your body reacted to Rafe’s touches, trying to concentrate on his words but actually only wishing his lips to get back on yours. 

“You let them touch you. That girl was all over you today, and you did nothing to prevent it.” You breathed into his lips, feeling a lazy smirk stretching across his own. Rafe leaned in again, pressing a few quick, wet kisses to your mouth and wrapping one hand harder around your body.

“She was fucking annoying and I tried to get her off of me. I don’t need any of them. My eyes have always been on you. I swear.” Rafe’s hands tugged on your dress, sliding it higher to have more access to your body. “Holy shit, Y/N. I don't know how I was able to be friends with you for so long. I want you so bad.” 

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, when Rafe’s lips slid down the side of your neck, leaving soft bites and reddish marks. Your own hands reached under his t-shirt, touching his firm abs and scratching his tanned skin until he moaned into your mouth. 

“I was scared to make a move. To scare you away. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot pretend to be only your friend." His hands were sliding up and down your thighs, bringing you closer and not pulling his face away from your neck. Your scent has always driven him insane and he couldn’t have enough of you. “Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me, Y/N?” His hands tugged your hips closer, until his bulge was firmly pressing into your leg.  

“Rafe…” You whined, your hips moving on his thigh, which was still pressed in between your legs. The feeling of your underwear getting wetter by the second made you wonder if Rafe could feel it through his pants. “Y-you know that everyone thinks that we’re sleeping together, right?”

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint them, hm?” You felt a smile spreading across his lips and you giggled back at him. Your hands are now tagging the annoying piece of fabric that hid his body from you, not even caring about people that might go to the second floor of Cameron’s house and catch you.

You managed to drag the t-shirt off of Rafe, your mouth instantly getting watery with the image in front of you. Sure, you saw Rafe shirtless countless times at the beach, but knowing that you could shamelessly do whatever you wanted made your whole body tingle. 

“Fuck that.” Before you even knew it, Rafe’s hands easily lifted you up, making your legs automatically wrap around his body. His lips met yours again, and he started blindly moving towards his bedroom. 

Your body bounced on the way-too-soft and way-too-expensive mattress of his king-size bed as he threw you there and went to lock the door. Rafe followed you shortly after, too desperate to keep touching you. His hands slid up your bare thighs, going past the strings of your panties, pushing your dress until it was gathered around your waist. 

“Can I take it off?” He looked at you, his eyes surprisingly soft and completely different from what you'd expected. You just simply nodded, lifting your hands in the air, until the only real item of clothing was taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room. 

Rafe’s eyes took every inch of your exposed skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides. You were only dressed in a simple black set, but for Rafe, it was the sexiest thing in the world. 

He wanted you for so long. Just looking from afar, he was trying to restrict himself from getting closer to you because he had always thought that you deserved someone better. But at the same time, who could treat you better than him? Only Rafe knew everything that you liked and needed, and he was willing to give it to you. 

“You’re so pretty, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be careful with you.” Rafe's body covered yours, his soft lips kissing your neck and going all the way down to your belly, making you gasp. You buried your hands in his hair, moving it away from his face. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I won’t fuck this up.” He looked up at you with his baby blues, and your whole body got covered in goosebumps from the look in his eyes. 

“Please, Rafe.” You whispered, taking his face into your hands and dragging him back on top of you. You two could not stop moaning as your hands began to explore each other's bodies and your lips met once more in a passionate kiss. “I want you.”

“Baby… Can’t even imagine what you’re doing to me.” He groaned against your mouth. The position that you were currently in, with Rafe comfortably in between your slightly spread legs, made his pants-covered erection perfectly press into your dump panties. “Need to be inside of you or else you’ll make me cum in my pants.” 

It became a mess of tugging on each other's clothes while trying to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. When you were both naked, Rafe slowed down, holding your face with one firm hand. “Is it really what you want to do? ‘Cause I won’t go back to pretending to be friends anymore.”  

“Just fuck me already, Cameron.” You whispered, not breaking intense eye contact. 

“As you wish, sweetheart.” With these words, Rafe pulled back to reach the nightstand and take a condon. He carelessly threw it near your exposed body and took a few seconds to finally admire your naked form. 

You were basically inviting him to do whatever he wanted with your slightly spread legs, which let him see how wet you already were. That pleading look on your face didn’t help the situation either, making Rafe want to fuck you dumb until his name was the only thing on your mind. 

He looked you up and down a few times before leaning forward, pressing your legs closer to your chest. Rafe’s calloused hands reached to your sensitive breasts, touching nipples with his thumbs, until your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Are you ready for me, or do you want me to eat you out first, hm?” His soft breath on the side of your neck sent shievers down your body. As much as you wanted to feel his lips on you, it felt like you could not think straight without his dick stretching you out, so you helplessly shook your head. 

“Next time, please. I need you now.” 

He gave you a sly smile and, in a single motion, ripped off the foil, rolled a condom over his throbbing cock, and placed himself at your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling of his tip going up and down your wet slit, gathering your juices and stimulating your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, so you’re soakin’ my sheets, baby.” He smirked, looking down at your pussy and teasing you more, until a moan of his name escaped from your mouth. “Keep your legs here, okay? ‘N I’ll take care of you.” 

When you felt Rafe's cock slide into you, your eyes flattered before closing completely. It was big. It was bigger than you had ever had before, but it seemed like your body quickly adjusted to him as soon as he bottomed out. With one hand near your head to hold himself up and the other one on your leg, he slowly started moving in and out. 

“Rafe!” You squeaked, digging your nails into your thighs and trying to control yourself.

“Sh-h, ‘s okay. Knew this pussy was made for me, babe.” He moaned through gritted teeth, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with muffled moans and Rafe’s praises. His bed was making a noise with every movement, and if you hadn't been too lost in the pleasure, you would’ve thought about other people hearing you. Rafe could not take his gaze away from your face—the way you tried to control yourself but soon lost it when his cock touched that sensitive spot inside of you. Your glossy eyes, hot skin and puffy lips made him go feral, fucking you harder into the matress of his bed.

“That’s right, scream my name. Made ya go dumb for my cock, huh?” He watched in awe at the way you were going insane under him; your release was visibly getting closer with every thrust. You moan even louder, feeling a tight knot form in your lower stomach, and the feeling gradually increased when the base of his cock brushed over your clit. “Squeezin’ me so tight. My good girl... fuck, baby. That’s right, cum for me. I’ve got you.” 

Rafe grabbed both of your hands, showing you to put them around his neck. It made your legs fall from the previous position and you weakly put them around his waist. Rafe finally lowered his face closer to you, catching your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss, still pounding into you roughly and steadily. 

“I-I can’t, Rafe, please!”

You particularly breathe the same air, moan into each other’s mouths, hooded eyes locked on when the orgasm washes over you almost simultaneously. Without even realizing it, you dragged your nails down Rafe’s sweaty back, leaving red marks that he will proudly show off tomorrow. His hips slowly pushed into you while you were still pulsating around his cock, enjoying your own release. Just the feeling of your pussy milking him could’ve made him cum again. 

“Rafe…” You whisper, your eyes now closed and your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. Rafe slowly slipped out of you, walking away to throw out a condom. You whined at the empty feeling and the coldness that the lack of his touch had brought. 

“‘M right here, baby. You did amazing.” As he came back on top of you, now wearing boxers, he placed kisses on the heated skin of your neck, his hand sliding down your side to soothe the aching muscles of your legs. “My pretty girl... Gosh, now I’m not letting you go. Like ever.” 

You giggle, draping your arms over his shoulders and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So all I had to do was talk to some random guy for you to get all angry and kiss me?” 

“Don’t remind me of that. I just realised that I might actually lose you.” Rafe whispered the last part, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist until there was no space left between your naked bodies. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You hugged him back, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell into the room, until you both fell asleep in each other's arms. 

[aleskie-hischier]

FALLING FOR YOU (ft. Charles Leclerc)

SUMMARY: You and Charles go ice skating. He doesn't know how to ice skate. Shenanigans ensues.

The Xmas Album Masterlist

Warnings: none! it's like 98% fluff but it gets a lil suggestive like right at the veryy end

You gaze out the window, watching snow-draped trees blur past, the serene white landscape contrasting with the warmth of his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze now and then. Charles liked whisking you away on little trips throughout the year, but he especially loved doing so during the holidays, when the off-season finally let him slow down and bask in your company.

While the season was in full swing, he’d take you to sun-soaked beaches and coastal getaways in the middle of packed race weekends. But come winter, his heart belonged to the snowy mountains, where the two of you could retreat to a cozy little cabin, far from the world.

“It’ll be a couples’ trip before the madness starts,” he’d explained when he first floated the idea of sneaking away as the season ended. With the chaos of family dinners, festive parties, and endless reunions on the horizon, this getaway felt like a perfect little pocket of peace—just for the two of you.

The first few days were spent entirely wrapped up in each other—fingers intertwined, skin pressed against skin, lips meeting in unhurried kisses. New marks bloomed on necks and collarbones and hips, small traces of intimacy shared beneath the warmth of the covers as the cold world outside faded into nothingness. It was a blissful blanket, the kind you could only share when his mind wasn’t preoccupied with racing or how the team was doing. Time seemed to stretch in those quiet moments, letting you focus on nothing but each other.

Today, though, Charles had insisted—albeit with his signature charm—that you get out of bed for a surprise adventure. “Trust me,” he’d said with a mischievous grin as he helped you bundle up for the cold. 

When the car finally pulls to a stop, he’s quick to hop out and open your door, excitement practically radiating off him. Before you can take in your surroundings, he’s already covering your eyes with his hands, laughing softly as he guides you forward.

The crisp winter air nips at your cheeks, growing sharper as you near the mystery destination. The muffled crunch of boots on snow accompanies the sound of children’s laughter, mingled with the cheerful hum of life bustling around you.

When Charles finally uncovers your eyes, your breath catches. 

A frozen lake stretches out before you, its smooth surface glinting in the soft afternoon light. Families and couples glide across it, their skates carving graceful lines into the ice. Nearby, a small booth rents skates and a scattering of string lights twinkles faintly against the snowy backdrop. The scene feels like it’s been plucked straight from a holiday movie—a sea of white stretching endlessly, snowflakes drifting lazily through the air, and the joyful energy of the people around you.

“Ta-da!” Charles says, his voice brimming with pride as he grins down at you, “What do you think?”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, leading you closer to the lake. The chill deepens as you step further onto the snowy bank, but the magic of the scene keeps it at bay. Your heart feels impossibly full as you take it all in.

“Oh, Charlie,” you whisper, your voice soft and awestruck, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, come on then,” Charles says, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he leads you toward the skate rentals. “Let’s skate!”

You can’t help but smile, the grin stretching wide across your face as he eagerly handles everything—selecting skates for both of you and chatting animatedly with the attendant. The smile doesn’t fade even as you both sit on a nearby bench, lacing up your skates. You lean against each other for balance, your laughter mingling with the soft hum of activity around you. The cold bites at your fingers as you tug on the laces, but his easy warmth keeps the moment light.

Once ready, the two of you waddle toward the lake’s edge, unsteady on the frozen ground but too excited to care. As you’re about to step onto the ice, Charles suddenly catches your wrist, halting your progress. His expression is mischievous, the corners of his mouth curling up in that playful way you’ve come to adore.

“You’ve skated before, right?” he asks, tilting his head as though this question is long overdue.

You shrug, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I mean, yeah, but I’m not amazing at it.”

He narrows his eyes, studying you for a moment. “But you can balance?”

Instead of answering immediately, you step onto the ice and give a small glide, the motion smooth but cautious. “Yeah,” you reply over your shoulder, confidence lacing your tone.

“Good.” His grin widens as he steps gingerly onto the ice beside you, legs wobbling and torso swaying from side to side before placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. "Because I can't."

“Ah!” you exclaim, stumbling slightly as Charles leans his full weight against you. Your skates wobble precariously on the ice, but you manage to catch yourself, your hands instinctively gripping his arms for stability.

“Charlie,” you laugh breathlessly, your voice tinged with both amusement and panic, “One of us has to let go, or we’re both gonna fall!”

“I don’t know, mon ange, I’ve already fallen quite badly for you,” he quips, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. His legs may have been fighting for balance, wobbling dangerously, but his charm remained completely unshaken.

You chuckle, shaking your head as you try to steady yourself. “I’m serious, babe. I’m barely hanging on here!”

Instead of letting go, Charles takes an awkward, jerky step forward, his upper body practically collapsing against yours.

“If we don’t move, we can stay standing,” he says with the confidence of someone who’s utterly failing at proving his point. His arms wrap tightly around you, a precarious attempt at keeping both of you upright.

You roll your eyes playfully, threading a hand through his tousled hair. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Leaning in, you press a soft kiss to his cheek before gently unraveling yourself from his hold, taking one of his hands in yours. His grip tightens, but there’s trust in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Do you trust me?” you ask, your tone light but reassuring.

“Always,” he replies without hesitation.

“Good.” A smile spreads across your face as you glide backward, the motion so gentle it’s barely more than a whisper of movement. “Let’s take this slow, Mr. I-Drive-Fast-Cars-For-A-Living. This might actually be harder for you than your usual laps.”

His laughter rings out, rich and warm despite his shaky stance. “What do you mean might? It already is.”

The two of you glide slowly across the edge of the ice, your hands firmly clasped together. His feet shuffle awkwardly, and his brows are knit in deep concentration as he wobbles with every step. You can’t help but stifle a laugh whenever he flails wildly to keep his balance. Of course, with his hands still gripping yours, his clumsy movements throw you off balance too—but you find it too funny to care.

“You’re doing wonderful, love,” you say, your smile stretching wide.

“It’s not too bad,” he replies, his steps still clunky but growing bolder, “I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you warn teasingly, keeping the pace slow and steady as you gently pull him along.

But Charles, ever the adrenaline junkie, has no intention of playing it safe. “Oh, come on, mon ange,” he says, his grin turning mischievous, “This is a racetrack now.”

Before you can protest, he loosens his grip on your hand and pushes off against the ice with exaggerated effort, sending you gliding slightly ahead of him. Determined, he attempts to pick up speed, his legs awkwardly working against the slick surface.

“Charlie, be careful!” you exclaim, glancing back at him with growing concern. He’s teetering dangerously from side to side, his arms flailing in a desperate bid to stay upright.

“I’ve got this!” he calls out, his voice filled with far more hope than certainty, “It’s nothing too crazy!”

But fate—and the ice—have other plans. In a split second, his skate catches awkwardly, and he stumbles forward, completely losing control.

“Charles!” you squeal, trying to sidestep as he inches toward you like an unstoppable force. But it’s too late. With an almost comical lack of grace, his full weight barrels into you, and the two of you crash onto the ice in a tangled heap.

“Oh, dear, are you alright?” Charles asks when you're both fallen over, his voice laced with concern as he cups your cheeks, tilting your head gently to check for any injuries.

“I’m fine,” you reply between bursts of laughter, your breath fogging the cold air, “I can’t believe you wiped us both out!”

He groans, his face just inches from yours, his expression a mix of sheepishness and suppressed laughter. “It was a very calculated risk, you know.”

“Really?” you ask, raising an incredulous brow, “And what exactly did your calculations say?”

“That you’d make a wonderful crash pad,” he replies, his smirk breaking free, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, still chuckling as you lean into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. The two of you sit there for a moment, sprawled near the edge of the lake, just shy of solid land, the world around you bustling with joyful sounds of skaters and falling snow.

“Alright,” you finally say, brushing snow off your jacket as you prepare to get up. “Let’s try this again, yeah?”

He nods excitedly.

You rise carefully, holding out a hand to Charles. He grabs it, his grip firm as he starts to pull himself up. But before he can fully stand, his skates betray him, and with a comical yelp, he slips again, landing back on the ice with a soft thud.

“Have I ever told you how much I love watching you learn new things?” you tease, your laughter bubbling over. “You’re so cute.”

“Well,” he smirks, brushing snow off his jacket, “You think I’m cute, so I win.”

As you reach for him again, a young voice pipes up beside you. 

“Hi, sir!”

You both glance over to see a little boy skating confidently toward you, his skates cutting small arcs on the ice. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and a toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Since you’re struggling, you can always grab onto a Penguin Helper! They’re over there, and they help you skate and balance!” He points toward a line of small, penguin-shaped skating aids near the rental booth.

Charles blinks, momentarily stunned, before letting out a hearty laugh that echoes across the ice. “Ah, a Penguin Helper? Now that sounds like a genius idea.”

“Yeah!” the boy replies, nodding enthusiastically, “I used one when I was learning, and now I’m super good!” He punctuates his words with a quick, confident spin that leaves Charles gaping in exaggerated awe.

“You’re certainly very good,” Charles says, glancing at you with a grin, “How can I argue with a pro? I suppose a penguin might be my only hope.”

You giggle, watching as the boy skates off with the effortless confidence of someone far more practiced than Charles. 

“Come on, Charlie,” you tease, offering him your hand again. “Let’s get you your new best friend.”

“Only if you promise not to abandon me for a faster skater,” he quips, taking your hand as you help him up once more.

“I promise you’re the only one I want—bad skating and all,” you say with a warm smile. 

Hand in hand, you shuffle back toward the rental booth to grab him a penguin. Despite the slightly bruised ego, his laughter—and charm—remain completely intact.

“Ah, yes,” he says dramatically, gripping the handles of the cheerful plastic penguin, “My noble steed has arrived.”

“A fitting ride for the honorable Lord Perceval,” you tease, laughing as you quickly pull out your phone to snap a few photos. Watching him slowly glide across the ice, his newfound confidence was as endearing as it was amusing. “You look like a natural.”

“Do I?” he asks, flashing you a playful smile. “In that case, shall we race? I’m sure my trusty companion here will give me the edge I need.” He pats the penguin affectionately.

You skate beside him effortlessly, your movements smooth compared to his exaggerated shuffle. “I’d still like to have my boyfriend in one piece by the end of this, thank you very much.”

“Oh, but your boyfriend’s pride is already shattered,” he responds, tilting his head toward you with exaggerated seriousness, “What are you going to do about that?”

You smirk, leaning just close enough to him to make him wonder what you’re thinking. “Well,” you begin, your voice dripping with playful intrigue, “He’ll have to wait until we’re back at the cabin to find out, won’t he?”

His eyes narrow, and a mischievous grin spreads across his face, the twinkle in his eyes growing sharper. “Oh? Will there be a special gift waiting for me there?” His tone drops an octave, the teasing lilt turning into something more revealing. “Perhaps something that involves...less layers?"

You gasp in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over your chest as if you’ve been scandalized. “I don’t know what’s in that mind of yours,” you say, fighting back a smile, “But I was just planning on having us take a nice, relaxing nap.”

He quirks an eyebrow, stepping closer with a playful glint in his eye. “But what if I asked for this gift nicely?”

You raise a brow, intrigued, yet still holding onto the upper hand. “Ask nicely…how?”

His smile widens as he leans in, lowering his voice in that teasing tone you know so well. “I’ll make you hot chocolate. Just the way you like it. Thick. More chocolate than milk. Extra marshmallows. No skimping.”

Your eyes widen for a moment before you let out a chuckle, shaking your head, your heart softening at his effort to win you over. “Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me.” You smile sweetly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I guess you can have your special gift after all.”

He grins, his posture slightly off-balance as he leans in—still holding onto that plastic penguin like it’s his lifeline—and plants a soft, warm kiss on your forehead. “You know just how to make a man’s bruised ego feel better,” he chuckles, his voice full of warmth.

“I know, right?” you smile, the promise of warmth, both literal and figurative, and more playful moments together at the cabin feels like the perfect ending to the day.

[heytherelysia]

hello, i really enjoyed your work so far & i saw that your reqs are open! i was wondering if you could do ayato aishi x gn reader who is anxious and dependent? reader is almost like a sheep, following the crowd and attaching themself to their friends. thank you and i hope you have a lovely day/night 🤍

ayato aishi x anxious + dependent reader

you guys don't know how happy i get when i see requests 😭 good crumbs anon! as much as i like an independent reader who knows how to stand up for themselves, there's a special spark in a reader who is very reliant on others and in any way fragile. you guys have a lovely day too!

gn reader, not proofread, alludes to kidnapping, pretty tame for the most part.

you never shared a glanced at each other, not even once, but he was hooked on you when you accidentally spilled your drink on one of the delinquents.

"oh no... i'm sorry i'm sorry! i- ...please forgive me."

it was distressing. you didn't mean to be such a klutz, especially in front of a crowd of people, and now you got into such a mess with one of the delinquents.

the way he looks at you with annoyance, not even bothering to say a word. you know he's mad, rightfully so.

"i'm sorry... i'll buy you another uniform if you want..."

"don't bother. how do i know you won't dirty the uniform when you can't even hold your drink correctly and look where ya going? now move outta the way."

your friends help you stand up as the delinquents pass you by. by the time you look up, you no longer see the crowd of eyes that was practically shooting daggers at you. they continue their mindless conversations before your accident. although embarrassing yourself made a stain in your reputation, it's refreshing that an ocean of eyes is no longer staring right through you. you'll worry about the gossips regarding your clumsiness later.

much to your dismay, gray eyes were observing you the entire time. there was no spark in their eyes since the moment of their birth, they had no soul, they had no purpose, but to be a functioning citizen, when they are just flesh and meat without a sense of mind.

but you helped them. you helped them gain the spark in their eyes, you helped them become their own person, and you helped them find their purpose in life. you've done it all without ever acknowledging them.

ayato snaps out of it when your friends start to escort you away from the scene, rubbing your back and shoulders.

the apologies emitted from your mouth, your hands you were playing with in pure anxiety, your shivering body. he wants it all, he wants all that you can ever give him.

your sheepish personality does not benefit you, but it gives all the pros to ayato. he loved it when your breathing went stiff when he went up to you to say hi.

you've always needed company. wherever there is a crowd, you'll squeeze yourself in, just as long as they don't look at you like you have murdered a family of seven.

but ayato was an unusual company.

at first, it seems like he was just walking past the hall until his feet stops by the bench you're sitting on.

ayato aishi, he is commonly praised for his mother's victory in court when she was accused of murder and the disappearance of five girls. even so, he is still an average student, he hasn't done anything extravagant himself, unless we're talking about his effort to learn everything about you.

"hi."

he's... straight to the point. you try to at least look at him, but you are quick to look away when you see that his face is barely an inch away from you.

"...oh! uh... hi!" you're looking at everything but his face, he just won't stop staring.

he loves it when you're anxious, trembling, jittery and all. but he wishes that you could look at him again more thoroughly, like he is an art piece at a museum.

the next thing you know, he is walking away as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a smirk. oddly enough, you maintain eye contact with him until he eventually disappears down the hall.

he never talked to you again after the interaction but something always feels like it's watching you.

one thing that he does not like about you is that you surround yourself with familiar faces and rely on your closest companions. it makes it difficult for him to stalk you without alarming anyone. and with the other, it's rather a jealousy thing of his. one day, when he gets you all to himself, you will depend your very existence to him. rest assured, he'll take care of you, cook you delicious food, and shower you with praise. none of your friends are able to give you what he can, he is special, as he likes to think.

(bonus!) "ayato's darling shrine"

portrait — a photo of my darling watching the sunset. they look a thousand times more beautiful.

broken earphones — my darling threw this away on their way home. i wish we can listen to music together with these headphones.

gel pen — darling's favorite pen. they were upset when they lost it, i almost wanted to give it back to them.

crumpled paper — scrapped essay for their research. they forgot to throw it in the trash out of stress. their handwriting is cute, should i write them letters one day?

...

i loved writing this °՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞°

[some-stars]

god you know what i want? i want fic where vanessa is jealous of logan. and she knows it's stupid and unfair, because she doesn't even want to get back together with wade. what they had is over and they're both different people now and she can't live with that kind of constant background fear anymore...but it's the first time she's had to actually see wade be in love with someone else, and it stings.

because yeah, obviously she still loves him. if she could press a magic button and make herself invulnerable to gunshot wounds and erase the last six years of wade pushing her away and self-destructing until she had to remove him from her life because it just fucking hurt too much to stay...she's not completely sure if she would, but she'd give it some serious consideration, because she was happier with wade than she'd ever been with anyone else before. and even if she's found someone new, that kind of once in a lifetime lightning in a bottle, you can never really recapture it. they were special to each other.

or at least, she thought they were. but now wade watches logan unloading the dishwasher with that same dopey soft gaze he used to turn on her after sex, or when she was putting on her makeup and he'd sit on the toilet to keep her company, or just when they were watching tv and she glanced over and caught him mooning over her.

and she knows it's stupid, bitter, unkind, unhelpful to want that look all to herself when she's the one who told him no, more than once. especially when she is genuinely, with her whole heart so happy that wade is happy again, finally, whole and himself and alive again. she shouldn't want anything else besides that. but she can't help it.

idk, i guess i've just read one too many scenes where she nudges them towards each other benevolently, which is not like, inherently a bad thing to write. but she was so fucking in love with him too, you know? she wanted a family with him. she wanted forever. and maybe that doesn't just go away.

[ace-sher-bi-john]

While I absolutely love both BBC Sherlock and Sherlock & Co, Sherlock & Co definitely depicts a more healthy relationship between Sherlock and John.

For starters, on BBC Sherlock, Sherlock and John are both co-dependent on each other. John was implied to be suicidal before he met Sherlock. Sherlock relapses without John by his side. Even with Mary to substitute the void in his heart and help him find purpose again, John would never move on from Sherlock. If anything happened to John, it wouldn't end well for anyone, especially Sherlock.

On Sherlock & Co, one of John's only problems after returning home from Ukraine was that he couldn't afford a flat on his own. He seemed to be very excited about life, going on dates, couldn't wait to start his podcast. He was genuinely happy to see Mike.

Sherlock could easily manage on his own without John. He doesn't need to be reminded to eat, he doesn't need an assistant for cases, he doesn't need someone to take care of him. His only problem is that he needs a flatmate.

Although John and Sherlock both need each other to afford rent, they don't need each other for anything else. They want each other's company, they don't need it. They aren't two halves of a whole, they are two wholes coming together. That's how it should be with all healthy relationships, platonic, romantic, queerplatonic, or otherwise.

It also helps a lot that Sherlock isn't a complete jerk on Sherlock & Co. He genuinely treats John and everyone else with a kindness that while I believe BBC Sherlock is capable of it, he rarely showed it. When John's PTSD is triggered, Sherlock asks John if he'd rather sit out that case. He then asks John if he wants to hold hands and discuss his feelings. In part one of the Blue Carbuncle, Sherlock complimented, actually complimented John. That kind of scene just never happened on BBC Sherlock. John was doing his "That was fantastic! You're amazing!" and Sherlock said, "You flatter me, Watson. But you did awesome too! You should have seen the way you did that! It was brilliant!"

John seems like a much more well rounded happy person in general. Just listen to any of his viewer discretion warnings. "Greetings you handsome devil! This episode will contain a bit of the old swearing, a bit of violence, some drug use. Oh and a bit of duck poo!" I hate to make this comparison, due to how much it will sound like an insult. But he acts like the quirky Disney Princess personality that every Disney Princess from the 2010s has and I mean that in the best possible way. It's my favorite thing about him. He's so adorable.

In the Blue Carbuncle, John has a moment similar to ones that you've seen many times before on BBC Sherlock. John has plans that mean he won't be able to help with the case. He is going to Berlin to spend Christmas with his old army friends. It's going to be his first boys' trip in years. But then he gets so sucked into the case that he's almost late for his plane and decides to just stay with Sherlock anyway because the case is just so fascinating he can't leave. On BBC Sherlock, John has abandoned his plans, his job, his girlfriends, for a case because he couldn't stand to be without Sherlock for so long. Also because Sherlock would often crash is dates, ruin his relationships, just so that John could assist him on cases. On Sherlock & Co, Sherlock was happy for John that he was going out with friends, even though it would mean spending the holidays alone. And Sherlock LOVES Christmas, so it's sad to think that he would have to spend it alone.

Where BBC Sherlock would manipulate or guilt John into staying, Sherlock & Co Sherlock let John go and was genuinely fine with going it alone for a week or two, even if it meant being all alone on Christmas.

I love BBC Sherlock, toxic co-dependent relationships and all, and I always will. But Sherlock & Co gives a little something different and I am happy that my boys are happier.

SH: *laughing* What's so funny Watson? JW: *laughing* It's just hearing you say "bell end" SH: Lovely and jubbly

[terry-perry]

https://www.tumblr.com/terry-perry/758497780110082048/minding-ones-business

so husk knew what Alastor and Carmine!Reader was real? We need to see this for ourselves! Can I request that please? Like Husk watching the couple being all sweet one night and realizing this was true love his boss was experiencing ❤️

Alastor x Y/N Carmine aka Hell's Cutest Couple

I based this imagine on one of my favorite moments from Lucifer, another show about Hell and redemption that occasionally involves a musical number!

As long as he knew him, Husk never thought his boss to be the sentimental type or even what some would consider romantic. Alastor might've been from the Jazz Age, music people loved to use to set the mood and express emotions that regular words can't, but he wouldn't be considered friend material, let alone more-than-friend material. Yet Husk was now witness to him sitting by the grand piano he conjured up in the hotel's parlor to give a small performance to Y/N Carmine, who watched on fondly from the couch and occasionally closed her eyes to take in the melody he played for her.

It was indeed a bizarre sight, but not an unwanted one. Especially since the more the pair invested in each other's company, the more Alasotr and Y/N forgot about Husk being there. They'd since stopped going to the bar to freshen up their drinks and focused more on enjoying each other. He wondered if he could attempt to slip away to his room, but he didn't want to risk it if Alastor was just trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Also, the scene before him seemed too surreal to look away from.

He chose to stay and continued to bear witness to the couple. Alastor had since stopped playing, which led to Y/N clapping cheerfully for his performance and him looking at her with a mix of amusement at her bubbly enthusiasm and tenderness. Still seated at the piano, he held his hand out for her to take. She walked over and took it as he gently sat her beside him.

"Do you play?" Alastor asked then, his eyes never leaving her even as she hesitantly looked away.

"Hardly," she scoffed in embarrassment. "Nothing like you." She stretched out her fingers and gave them a dramatic wiggle before she set them to her desired keys. "After some lessons, my mother spent an embarrassing amount of money on, this is all I remember-"

Suddenly, a simpler tune filled the room as Y/N played a basic version of Heart and Soul on the piano, which only had her playing one key at a time. It was still lovely to hear, and Husk gave a small smile despite himself, and Alastor let out a chuckle that tangled with his radio static. What came next was just as endearing as Alastor joined Y/N's playing by adding a complex rhythm that complimented her basic chords. The result was a sweet rendition of Heart and Soul, where the couple kept playing for the next two minutes.

Husk enjoyed the melody. As he opened his eyes to watch the show, he noticed that Charlie and Vaggie dropped in and saw everything from the second floor. The princess practically had hearts surrounding her as she observed Alastor and Y/N, and Vaggie smiled faintly. Husk paid them no mind, however, since all he could do was notice how his boss had yet to look away from Y/N, continuing to stare at her in a daze without a note of his usual smugness. Alastor looked at her delighted presence with a softness that was quite out of character for the Radio Demon.

It was so out of character that it was almost...pure. It was as though Y/N's lovely presence made Alastor rethink his intentions, so they were more tailored to keep her around for as long as she'd have him and not just until he grew bored of her.

Alastor needed her since she already had his heart and soul.

[jermer10]

Yandere Scout with a civilian reader?

TF2 yandere scout x civilian reader

18+ only, gn reader | yandere scout my beloved

tw: yandere themes, stalking, graphic depictions of violence, non-consensual sexual activity

drabbles under the cut :P

Being the 10th class, 'The Civilian', you’re someone different, special in a way that the others aren't

You work behind the scenes, cleaning up the battlefield after each fight, being escorted from point A to B with sensitive information by whichever team had you for that week

Thus, Scout quickly becomes fixated, convinced that he’s the only one who can understand and protect you

His mind is always on you. During missions, downtime, and even in the middle of conversations with the team, you occupy his every thought

He imagines every scenario where he’s the one protecting you, keeping you safe, and, most importantly, keeping you his

Scout makes it a point to always know where you are, even when you think you’re alone he's there, watching from the shadows

You might think you hear footsteps behind you or feel eyes on you, but every time you look, no one's there, you start to spiral into a paranoid mess

Scout steps in as your personal confidant, gaslighting you into believing you're having some sort of stress related psychotic episode

His stalking becomes more brazen over time, but he always plays it off like it’s no big deal

Scout’s obsession with you knows no boundaries - most nights he sneaks into your room and watches you sleep (and yes, he touches himself to you)

He’s careful not to wake you, his eyes scanning every detail, convinced that no one else could ever appreciate you the way he does

Escalated from jerking off behind you, to rubbing his cock on your lips, to using your thighs as a fleshlight

He intentionally cums on pieces of clothing from your closet, he doesn't care if you notice, if you take them to Medic for analysis - the samples always seem to go missing anyway

Some nights he drugs you with the intention of actually fucking you, but he can never work up the courage, wanting to save your first time together for when you're officially his

His biggest fantasy is having you beg for him, he wants you to obsess over him in the way he does to you

He hates when anyone else talks to you, especially if you seem to enjoy their company

If another mercenary spends too much time around you, Scout gets jealous and finds ways to interrupt - whether it’s a poorly timed joke, pretending to need something urgently, or picking a fight with them, he won’t stop until they leave you alone

Scout likes to take little items as trophies or souvenirs, something to remind him of you when you’re not around (often repeatedly cumming on the items - marking his territory)

He feels entitled to your personal space and has no qualms about going through your things when you’re not there, sitting so close to you he's basically on top of you, hugging you and touching you without asking

If you ask for space or mention feeling uncomfortable he stops talking to you for days, making threatening and suicidal comments when you're in earshot

Eventually you apologize to him, and he makes sure you know how happy he is that you've "come to your senses"

"I dunno why you'd even think somethin' as stupid as that in the first place, I don't make ya uncomfortable, you're probably just feelin' totally flattered, babe! It's okay, sometimes I can't tell the difference either."

His obsession escalates into paranoia - he becomes convinced that everyone around you is trying to take you away from him

Even innocent interactions are blown out of proportion in his mind, and he’ll go to great lengths to ensure no one gets too close

He will sabotage others’ efforts to spend time with you, spreading rumors or even manipulating situations so that they’re pushed out of your life

It seems like everyone has picked up on his irrational behaviour except you, and god help the soul who tries to warn you, so they stay away and hope that his "crush" passes

If he feels like you’re pulling away or that someone else is threatening his claim on you, he might snap

In a worst-case scenario, he could take matters into his own hands, kidnapping you and isolating you somewhere he believes no one can hurt you

To Scout, everything he’s doing is out of love - his intense possessiveness, his constant stalking, and even the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you close are all justified in his mind

[geotjwrs]

Can I request a platonic Jenna x male reader where r is a writer and like one of his screenplays like gets picked up and Jenna stars in it and they both realise each other are incvled in project and just a sweet look into their friendship?

invisible string

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

Y/N had always dreamt of becoming a screenwriter. From the days spent scribbling stories in his worn-out notebooks to the nights staying up late typing away on his laptop, he poured his heart and soul into every word. It was his passion, his escape, and now, finally, it seemed to be paying off. One of his screenplays had been picked up by a major production company. The excitement was overwhelming, but nothing prepared him for the shock of finding out who would be starring in his film: Jenna Ortega.

Jenna and Y/N had met a few years back at a film festival. They had hit it off immediately, bonding over their mutual love for cinema and storytelling. Despite their busy schedules, they had kept in touch, exchanging messages and occasionally catching up over coffee whenever they found themselves in the same city. Their friendship was a comforting constant in Y/N's ever-changing life.

When Y/N received the news, he couldn't believe his luck. He was both thrilled and nervous about the project, especially with Jenna being involved. He knew how talented she was, and having her bring his words to life was an incredible honor.

The first day on set was a whirlwind of activity. Crew members buzzed around, setting up equipment, adjusting lighting, and preparing for the day's shoot. Y/N arrived early, wanting to soak in every moment of this experience. As he walked onto the set, he spotted Jenna talking to the director. She looked radiant, her enthusiasm contagious as she animatedly discussed her character.

"Y/N!" Jenna called out, her face lighting up with a bright smile as she saw him.

"Jenna!" Y/N replied, grinning as he walked over to her.

They hugged tightly, both of them laughing with excitement. "I can't believe you're here!" Jenna exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "When they told me about the project, I had no idea it was your screenplay. This is amazing!"

"I know, right? It's like a dream come true," Y/N said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't wait to see you bring the character to life."

"Well, I promise to do your words justice," Jenna said, her tone sincere. "Your script is incredible, Y/N. It's one of the best I've read in a long time."

"Thank you, Jenna. That means a lot coming from you," Y/N replied, feeling a warm sense of pride.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N spent a lot of time on set, observing and learning. He was amazed at how Jenna immersed herself in her role, bringing depth and nuance to the character he had created. They often found themselves discussing scenes, bouncing ideas off each other, and refining the dialogue.

Their friendship deepened during this time, built on mutual respect and admiration. They shared countless moments of laughter, inside jokes, and even some late-night brainstorming sessions when inspiration struck. Jenna's dedication and talent inspired Y/N, and he felt grateful to have her as both a friend and a collaborator.

One evening, after a long day of shooting, Y/N and Jenna found themselves sitting on the steps of her trailer, sipping coffee and enjoying the cool breeze. The set was quiet, most of the crew having left for the day.

"You know," Jenna said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I'm really proud of you, Y/N. You've come a long way since we first met."

Y/N smiled, looking down at his coffee cup. "Thanks, Jenna. I couldn't have done it without your support."

Jenna nudged him playfully. "Don't sell yourself short. You've got talent, and you work hard. You deserve all the success that's coming your way."

"Well, it helps to have amazing friends like you," Y/N said, meeting her gaze.

They sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company and the sense of accomplishment that came with seeing their hard work come to fruition.

As the filming progressed, Y/N and Jenna continued to support each other, both on and off set. They celebrated the small victories, like nailing a difficult scene or receiving positive feedback from the director. They also leaned on each other during the tough times, offering encouragement and reassurance.

One particularly challenging day, when everything seemed to be going wrong, Jenna found Y/N sitting alone in a quiet corner of the set, looking stressed.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting down next to him. "You okay?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just feeling overwhelmed, I guess. It's a lot of pressure."

Jenna put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know it's tough, but you're doing an amazing job. Remember why you started this journey. Your passion and talent brought you here, and you've got a whole team behind you."

Y/N looked at her, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Thanks, Jenna. I needed that."

"Anytime," she replied with a warm smile. "We're in this together, remember?"

As the final days of shooting approached, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. The cast and crew had become like a family, and it was hard to believe that their time together was coming to an end. On the last day of filming, emotions ran high as they wrapped up the final scene.

After the director called "Cut!" for the last time, there was a moment of silence before the set erupted into cheers and applause. Y/N felt a mix of relief, pride, and sadness as he looked around at the people who had brought his vision to life.

Jenna made her way over to him, her eyes shining with tears. "We did it," she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Yeah, we did," Y/N replied, his voice choked with emotion.

As they stood there, surrounded by their friends and colleagues, Y/N realized how much this experience had meant to him. Not just because of the success of his screenplay, but because of the incredible journey he had shared with Jenna. Their friendship had been a source of strength and inspiration, and he knew it would continue to be, no matter where their careers took them next.

In the weeks that followed, Y/N and Jenna kept in touch, their bond stronger than ever. They celebrated the film's success together, attending premieres and interviews, always supporting each other. Despite their busy schedules, they made time for their friendship, knowing how important it was.

One evening, as they sat on a rooftop terrace, looking out over the city lights, Jenna turned to Y/N with a thoughtful expression. "You know, this is just the beginning for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "And I can't wait to see you in your next role. You're going to keep amazing audiences, Jenna."

They clinked their glasses, toasting to the future and to their enduring friendship. As they sat there, talking and laughing, he would always have Jenna by his side.

And that, he realized, was the greatest gift of all.

[sirwadewilsonfromimgur]

Deadpool & Wolverine: Scenes from an unconventional marriage.

[Submitted to Poolverine Week Day 7 SFW domesticity / Domestic life]

Pre script authors note: The following was inspired by a few conversations between @icarusredwings and myself, part of which was a scenario that i thought would be funny... if this is your first story reading one of my AUs (first of all. woof, you picked a long one) Secondly. The boys have money, Peter works for them as an assistant and logistics expert. They live in Kansas city because of Wade's crusade against anti-mutant GMO corn... go back and read KoKC for details. Link below.

Scene 3

Kansas City Missouri Earth-10005 (2031-ish)

When two murderous Canadian mercenaries love each other very much...

Part 1 : paternal instincts.

Our scene opens up where most of our scenes open with this author.

The 19th floor of 700 W 31st Street Kansas City Missouri.

(the building known to its Tennants as One Park Place tower)

International headquarters of Malfeasance and Fraud Mitigation (Mercs for Money) LLC. And home to Logan and Wade Howlett-Wilson.

And Blind Al don't forget her! And Mary puppens I'll stab you if fucking forget about her. By the way Brace yourself folks this might be a crossover AU one-shot non canonical story.

Wade was talking to himself as usual having left the office after chain smoking a pack of Lucky Strikes and going over Financials with Peter and Althea. The business part of the business of killing was a huge pain in the ass. Logan insisted he take an active role beyond just killing. It was hell on his undiagnosed autism/ADHD.

Fuck Excell, fuck spreadsheets, fuck shopping around for cheaper ammo to save a dollar, this Is a Winchester house we're not buying off brand bullets from eastern Europe!

But it was finally over and he could enjoy the rest of his day. Which he intended on doing as he walked towards Logan sitting on the couch in the livingroom. He had a Nintendo Switch and was playing Mario 3 online.

He'd taken a liking to playing games ever since Laura convinced him to play Smash Brothers with her a few years ago.... Wade loved that he'd picked up what many especially the Wolverine himself would consider an unserious hobby.

he sucked at it, but he was trying to improve. He had recently beat Zelda: link to the past, but he still couldn't beat Laura at Smash Bros. Wade sat down next to him with a thud.

You get all your work done for the day princess? He asked without looking up from his screen.

I did. It was terrible. I hate it. Please don't make me do it again. Wade gently puts a hand on Logans thigh, not necessarily with amorous intentions. It's more like trying to ground himself after a stressful afternoon by connecting with his Wolverine.

Sorry bub, but you gotta learn about the actual business. It'll give you a better perspective before you go spending money. Besides its our company, and it's more than shooting fools. Now, if you gimme a sec I'll find a stopping point. These little fucking turtles have been giving me hell.

Thier Koopas penut, stomping on turtles, would be cruel. As for Al and Peter, they are the best at what they do... and what they do isn't very interesting.

Logan chuckles at Wade's bad joke, turning off his game. You smell like cigarettes bub, you know those are bad for your health. *sniffs* lucky strikes.... you know I remember when lucky strike was a plug tobacco brand (chewing tobacco bound together with molasses the 1870s were a weird time)

That sounds disgusting Penut... also I think smoking is the least of my problems. You didn't have to stop playing your game I just Wanted to be near you. But speaking of, did I tell you I was in a video game once?

Logan was accustomed to this line of thought at this point, they were in a film, a fanfic on Tumblr, a comic book, a novel... a video game was new... he couldn't see the audience, as far as he knew his choices were his own. But he didn't immediately dismiss Wade like he had in the past, because when he said things like this, there was a thread, especially if Wade said something ominous. He knew to clock it and treat the situation with care.

You were? Tell me about it bub. He said this as he pulled Wade onto his lap, feeling the need for a little cuddling while his garrulous lover regaled him with a meandering story... he liked it.

Well Penut it was the far off year of 2013, my voice sounded like Nolan North at the time and not the buttery Ryan Reynolds tones I have today. It was before the Deadpool movies and I didn't have the budget for a Hollywood actor.

Logan shook his head in mock understanding, not understanding what he meant by having a different voice at all.

Anyway, cutting past the tutorial levels, I remember Cable was there, and so we're you. Well, not you, one of you. Ya' know.

Logan gave Wade a little squeeze at the mention of Wade's ex, Cable... something about that guy made him feel possessive, not a normal reaction for a pair that generally regarded themselves as polyamorous. It probably had something to do with him being (this universe's) Scotts son which is a situation that's weird on its face before someone explained time travel to you and once that was done Logan would have to open a whole can of worms regarding trauma of love lost, parallel universes, and his Scott...

he pushed it to the back of his brain as Wade told his story, how he went on an adventure and that other Logan. he even let me fly the Blackbird... this, of course, resulted in disaster... he crashed it, leading in to a light explanation of how his and that Logans relationship was... tense.

Wade went on about traipsing through the ruins of Genosha a totally real place Logan was unfamiliar with...

there was no Genosha or Krakoa in his universe, and by far the largest difference between the world's he'd noted. It was a land populated by mutants that had suffered a brazen attack by humans... a story Logan was all too familiar with. It's a story he's been doing his best to live with. Pulling himself out again he focuses on Wade's story, he'd mentioned a musical number with Lady Death (who was not played by Aubrey Plaza at the time wade lamented) and then discovery that it hadn't been Agatha all along but Mister Sinister at the heart of the problem.

He'd planned on destroying Wade's favorite taco restaurant along with the rest of the world by *checks notes* exhuming mutant bodies to obtain their unique DNA.... or something. It was almost 20 years ago penut so it's fuzzy.

An injustices Wade simply could not stand for. He personally killed several of Sinisters clones in the process of ultimately stopping his evil scheme before confronting him at Magneto's old Citadel where he'd been hiding out...

I squashed him like a bug under the boot of an old Sentinel, Penut! The big purple kind like from X-men 97! Anyway, the credits role and because of licensing issues, the game is only available to play on hard disk, and it's expensive.

Logan nodded his head (again) in tacit agreement with this statement as if he completely understood *he didn't* kissed Wade on the cheek and held him. He was about to suggest that he and Wade go for a walk when Wade jumped off his lap

Oh, Penut! Talking about Sinister reminds me of something!

Wade ran across the room and headed towards the large storage room they kept some sundry items in, the Christmas tree, seasonal stuff and a few boxes of Wade's "crap" that he couldn't get rid of. Mind you this wasn't Wolverines terminology, Wade had written in red crayon on the boxes Crap. Out of curiosity Logan had followed behind him and was standing in the door watching Wade feverishly dig through boxes, opening them taking stuff out and Searching for something.

Amongst the random objects was a furry red doll with a grande attached to it. Logan quickly picks it up.

Wade, why dose this doll have a live Fucking grande attached to it... I thought we agreed all explosives stay at the safe house not the condo!

Oh, tickle me Hell-mo, in fairness Penut I forgot he was even in that box... I forgot what was in a lot of these boxes, trinkets, souvenirs... grenades... apparently. I just knew i didn't want to throw these things away. He rifled through another box as he said this and pulled out a large gray rectangular device with buttons nobs and a small readout display.

FOUND IT! c'mon Penut, I'll clean this up later. I want to show you something. Wade rushed out of the storage room as fast as he'd ran in, Logan followed behind exploding doll in hand. He knew he'd better just entertain whatever it was Wade wanted to show him. Besides, he is kinda cute when he's excited about something.

Ok Princess, what about that box has got you so worked up.

Wade sets it on the marble counter.

Sinister was a sick fuck, and certifiably evil... but he was a brilliant geneticist and created several devices for harvesting DNA... I, lightly acquired a few things.

You stole shit.

I WASN'T PAID! so yeah after killing the fucker FOR FREE and distracting the X-men who conveniently showed up after I did all the work, I rooted around the citadel where he'd set up shop. I took this! He said pointing at the device. He then proceeded to pull out an instruction manual seemingly from thin air and read it out loud.

This device can take the DNA of two or more individuals regardless of gender and re-combine it to make a new life.

Logan was taken aback, not only by the inference that this device could assist them in having biological children together... but because Wade fucking read something out loud flawlessly without having to sound it out...

Bub, you can read today?

I guess so... but I'll probably only be able to write in Mandarin tomorrow. So enjoy it while you can. But to the point at hand, Penut, I want to have your babies. And with this I believe we can... with the help of a surrogate.

Sweet heart (Logan said as gently as possible in an attempt to spare his feelings) I don't think we're ready for kids, especially little ones.

Logan held up the explosive doll as exhibit A for his argument.

Wade responds by just looking at Logan, big comic book accurate blue eyes staring right in to his soul, Logan could see the tears welling up....

Jesus, bub! Stop! You emotionally manipulative little cunt! Logan broke his gaze and looked out the window pretending to be interested in downtown...

Look Princess, I know how badly you want a kid of your own... you told me all about it.

But you've got some steps to take before I consider being a father to a new life with you... firstly who's gonna surrogate? And don't tell me Ness, she's a good friend but that's asking a lot of her and don't be all depressed if she tells you no.

Secondly... and I can't believe I'm saying this... but if you want me to even flirt with the Ideas Wade, we gotta make this house a safe place and... buy one of the units next to us to expand into so the kid has a room... and you gotta get a safe for the guns and a locked case for the swords. we can't have them accessible to a toddler... no more keeping a Glock in the silverware drawer, no more LadySmith revolvers under the couch cushions. No more cocain in the pantry labeled "flour" in mason jars.

Well... that doesn't sound like a No, Penut... or should I say... Daddy?

Logan cringed at Deadpool, calling him daddy in a decidedly nonsexual tone. It didn't sound normal.

If the Wolverine wasn't sure about this, he probably shouldn't have given Wade a goal with clearly defined parameters...

Wade had hyper focus and devoted himself to baby proofing the condo, weapons secured. Drugs removed (by consuming them, Logan didn't say he couldn't have fun)

He negotiated buying the vacant one bedroom unit that was on the other side of their office walls, blew out said wall, and had contractors built two new large bedroom suites with bathrooms. He installed a Cypher lock on the office door and... yes, the golden girls were behind glass in a locked display cabinet. Something he could punch through should he need to defend the house quickly.

He did this all with his personal funds. Everything was on course... accept finding a surrogate... believe it or not, Vanessa wasn't actually Wade's first choice. He didn't want to ask her to commit to the inconvenience, especially since he didn't want to interfere with her relationship with Dermot... also the touchy subject of asking the woman you wanted to start a family with to hay... help me start a family with my husband it'll be fun! No... Vanessa would be a fun aunt, but he knew he'd have to seek out the services of a professional or something.

They did find an agency that helped them meet with potential surrogates. It wasn't cheap.

A situation that was more complicated than taxes, filing out mountains of paperwork. Then they had to actually meet these women. Money they had... interview skills not so much. Especially when a few walked in, saw Wade's face, and immediately walked out. The best ones screamed, the worst one thought she was on one of those terrible reality prank shows...

Logan despised the nights after such interviews. Holding Wade as he wept.

Logan... what if my own baby thinks I'm scary? What if they don't want to be seen with me or worse they're bullied at school for being the son of a monster... *loud sobs* because it's true, I am a monster. A murderer, a war criminal whose outside is exactly who he is on the inside... a freak.

Logan had gotten Wade to believe him after years when he said he loved him, his scars added depth and character and that he thought his husband was the sexiest man to walk the earth, the void, and the multivers.

But that only applied to him, others... well, given how the interviews went, it was a blow to his ego.... and his mental health. It'd be days before he got Wade to come back out from under his hood or mask. But that was a problem for tomorrow. But for tonight, Wade had entered a shutdown for lack of a betterword... Logan held him, fed him, got in the large shower with him, washed him, and went to bed, tucked in the large bed he held his beloved who had curled himself up in to a ball.

Tomorrow will be better Princess, we'll find the right person, and I promise any baby of ours will love you and be kind. Because that's who you are, really on the inside bub... you forget it. But as long as I've known you, your heart has been in the right place in the end, and you're kinder than I am by a country mile.

The sleep that night was thankfully dreamless for the both of them.

The next morning, Logan made a simple breakfast of eggs and toast for both of them. Putting the bottles of salsa and sriracha near Wade plate... he looked at the clock. 6:30 am

Meaning it was 7:30 in New York. He'd try and give Vanessa a call in half an hour knowing she'd be up by then for sure. He needed to commiserate with someone who understood Wade like he did.

The phone call he had that morning was surprising. He'd let Vanessa know what'd been going on with the agency... and the drama... he was shocked to learn she didn't even know they were considering having a baby.

Wade, didn't tell you?

No Red's not said a word of this to me, I'm honestly confused as to why you goofballs didn't ask me first.

Well, after yesterday, I might as well be the one to ask. Would you consider it Ness?

I... hmmm.... tell you What, this isn't exactly a phone conversation, and it sounds like I need to have a chat with my buddy... I can be there this weekend if you can help a sister out with at ride.

*Logan scoffs playfully* sure I'll have peter send out a G700 to pick you up.

Oooo spoil me, Daddy she retorted.

Logan gaged... gross Ness.

She cackled at getting the old man's goat for a solid minute before they finally wrapped up the call, Logan could definitely see why she and Wade had clicked.

It was another down day, no jobs scheduled, they could afford to take longer breaks and be choosy with contracts. Althea had the money making money with a few business development investments, the purpose of which was to launder money and pay taxes, the fringe benefit being they actually produced a small regular incom. (Please stop talking about the intricacies of the business, haven't I suffered enough!)

A short walk away on the other side of Broadway is the Penn Valley off leash dog park. Mary loved being able to run about and the boys liked that they didn't have to worry about her getting hit by a car... not that it would have affected her for long, but they both knew regenerating is something you'd rather not do if you didn't have to. Wade was indeed tightly tucked into a hoodie hiding his face as best he could. Logan would address that later. They got to the dog park gate without issue, Wade actively avoiding any other people they saw on the way.

Logan unhooked the leash from the ring on her doggy vest, and she was off like a bat out of hell to do whatever it is Dogpools do when they have a whole field to run in. He pulled out a cigar from his pocket case. A Cohiba, a real one from Cuba, smuggled it himself from a job that took them to the Caribbean. He carefully cut the tip with a specialized Xikar cutter, lit the end of a cedar strip, and used the growing flame from it to light his cigar... a lot of ritual for something you literally burn. But Logan found it calming, he also needed one of his strongest cigars to help cover up the smell of the dog park... even if everyone picked up after their dog (they most certainly didn't) the smell was not great for Logan.

We should both probably cut back on the smoking when the babies get here penut... he said this as he pulled out a cigarette... they didn't do much for either of them chemically. Wade just enjoyed the habit, something comforting about it... plus if Wolvy was gonna have a cigar, it made him feel like it was a couples activity. Doing a mundane thing together was one of Wade's favorite things.

I spoke to Ness this morning.

Oh, I hope she's doing well. I need to call her.

I wouldn't worry about it, she'll be here this weekend... Wade, sweetheart... why didn't you tell Ness about our plans, she seemed a little hurt you didn't tell her.

She's traveling a thousand miles, probably to tell me off. I think she's more than hurt if she's coming out here... you know Penut... you said that I shouldn't get my hopes up with her... and I kinda took it to heart... Also I have my own hangups about it... Firstly being how insensitive it sounds on it's face. "Hay Ness, if you and Dermot aren't using it, can we rent your womb? Only 9 months, first month deposit up front!"

But more importantly, for the better part of a decade, Vanessa has been pulled into the misadventures of Deadpool. I love her (platonically). I'm glad we were able to stay friends... but she really doesn't need to get wrapped up in my problems, schemes, and drama... again. Not at my request anyway. A big issue I have is personal, I was going to start a family with her. Asking felt... regressive. But also to the point, her proximity to me has gotten her kidnapped and killed before. I still feel guilty about it.

You also traveled the multivers to save this reality for her, also you traveled back in time and saved her bub.

Aint you ever seen endgame. That's not how time travel works. Somewhere out there, in some other time line, Vanessa is still dead, and it's my fault. This is just a branched timeline.

Since when has the timeline ever made Since bub!

*Loud gasp* PENUT DID YOU JUST BREAK THE FOURTH WALL?

I don't think so, bub... I don't see the people, but I remember you trying to explain how the "other me" time traveled in 2014, and now there aren't Sentinel's running death camps. That the timeline changed and converged.

This is no different Princess, don't think about it too hard, you said. So I'm telling you the same thing. Don't fret about it bub, Vanessa is alive... and she will be here Saturday.

You're too good for me, Penut. I Don't deserve you.

No, you don't... he said as he picked a small plastic bag out of his pocket. You literally stole me. But I love you anyway. Now go pick up the massive shit Mary just took. I refuse for us to be the kind of people who just leave it.

Wade took the bag.

It's probably Stockholm syndrome Penut.

Vanessa arrived Saturday afternoon, in a Falcon 900LX. It was the best Peter could arrange on short notice... not that Vanessa knew the difference between a G700 and a Falcon, she was just happy not to be on Southwest. Dermot was with her... the man was almost the antithesis of Wade, He liked Hiking and he was quite to the point of being accused of being shy. Dry witted... and as he'd recently discovered when he went to the gun range with the boy's last 4th of July... a lousy shooter. But he was stable, kind, and good-natured. Definitely willing to go along to get along with a lot of Wade's antics at parties. He knew why Vanessa had come, and he was perfectly fine with it. It didn't interfere with his plans at all. He was a slow burner and Vanessa hadn't indicated she was in any hurry to tie the knot. But that's a story for another time.

Wade had gone the extra mile to spoil them. A black limousine complete with champagne greeted them on the tarmac and whisked them off to casa de chaos.

She walked in the door like she owned the place, dropping her bag by the door. She walked to the dining room table and sat...

Come over here and sit with me boys. We got a lot to talk about and I'd like to waste no time getting down to business.

Oh, so direct. Wade said in a catty tone high enough to indicate he was joking as he winked

We're gonna gloss over the fact that you didn't involve me with your family planning from the start... but I hear you've had a hard time landing a surrogate. she cut eyes at Wade as she said this. Wordlessly airing all of her hurt feelings and grievances regarding not even being told Wade and Logan were trying to have a baby. Something one would think a best friend would be told

I'd like to make an offer. On the condition that despite you two being my best friends... I aint doing this for free.

Oh, if that's the case Ness then you gotta interview like all the rest. He said this in a joking tone but she didn't miss a beat.

Ok Red, I've been substance free for over 20 years, I don't smoke. I promise not to drink or eat selfish for the entire pregnancy, and I'm one of two people in this room who've seen you naked and didn't require drugs and therapy after.

Yeah... my dick dose look like a peperoni somone forgot in the air fryer.

And your sack looks like someone took a crown royal bag, filled it with puss, and ran it through the middle of a hog pin.

Wade smiles. And laughs a little...

Ok, Ness. you got the job.

Great, I knew you'd see it my way. She proceeded to write a number on a piece of paper and slid it across.

That's my price. Also, Dermot and I are gonna be long-term hous guests for obvious reasons. Convenient since he can do his job remotely....

Wade looked at the number, showed it to Logan, and smirked... I think the both of you could retire for this much money... but nothing is too good for my baby. I am going to have to kill several people for this.

Bub, we might have to overthrow a government.

Pff like that's something new.

Lucky you Ness, you get to be the first person to stay in one of the new rooms... and tangentially responsible for a potential war crime! He grinned like the devil at her

---

Shortly after the contract was finalized, Vanessa and Dermot moved in, and it was a short trip to New York... the boys provided a sample and Mister Sinisters machine to Dr. Henry McCoy... who was fascinated by the whole thing (he later wrote an entire dissertation on it) he helped with the procedure... the result of which was one Vanessa Carlysle pregnant with the Biological child of the combined DNA of Deadpool and Wolverine...

The following 9 months went surprisingly smoothly (apart from one small incident with a serial killer, but that's a chapter in the Noir, we will worry about it later)

The day came... Vanessa went into labor, early in the morning. Thankfully, it seemed like it would be free of complications. meaning that Wade and Vanessa both got their wish for thus day. The baby was born at home.

Wade had an aversion to hospitals. Bad memories of cancer diagnosis, and a general fear of strange men in white lab coats. Not every man mind you. He was cool with Beast and other people he knew personally and he knew a few scientists and doctors... Logan wasn't averse to hospitals apart from the smells of disinfectant and illness mixed together. Vanessa was a bit new age for her justification, why bring life into the world in a place so many go to die, on top of it being uncomfortable, and expensive.

As a result, the midwife was called arrangements were made and the new life was soon ushered into the world. They say history doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme. Like his father Logan, who was born at home to an affluent family in a room where he'd spend his childhood, this baby was born in the penthouse of a tower to affluent parents in a room he'd inhabit well in to his 20s.

Vanessa wasn't in labor long. No birth is a walk in the park, but she would tell you it was pretty easy and without drama compared to others. She pushed one last time, and he was out. Vanessa did get the honor of holding him first after the midwife cleaned him up... Logan couldn't resist the urge; the umbilical cord was carefully cut with an adamantium claw blade. He had been offered a scalpel for the record.

Hay there, little guy... it's a pleasure to meet you.

She held him for 5 minutes before she called Wade over.

I know someone who's been waiting a very long time for you... I think it's time you should finally meet him

Vanessa handed the tiny bundle to Wade, who had whipped off his shirt the second Vanessa called him over. I read that skin to skin contact was beneficial to the baby. he'd said as he carefully supported the babies head and neck and brought him in closer to his chest.

Welcome to the world... I apologize for the state of it, but I have indeed waited a long time to meet you, little guy... I'm Wade, but please call me dad. Your other dad over there is the Wolverine, that makes you my Kitten. I promise you I'll do the best i can being your father. Please don't judge me too harshly.

Babe, get over here and take your shirt off.

If I had a dollar for every time you've said that to me.

So what should we name him...

You didn't think of a name already!

Logan said it was bad luck *shrugs*

But at least we got the last name sorted Howlett-Wilson 👌

Bub, hyphenated names are a pain in the ass... its not a problem for us because we rarely use our real married name for anything official... let's just give him your last name.

Wade scrunched his face with a little distaste...

Wolvy he's our baby. He should have something from both of us... I mean, besides our mental illness... that's a given.

Tell you what princess; how about we Name him James. It was my name... once, but I don't use it anymore. He can have it.

His middle name however was a much longer discussion... mostly because Wade offered several typical Deadpool options that Logan Veto'ed outright.

Thunderdick! No. Skullcursher!? God, no. James MAGNUM Wilson! That's terrible Wade...

It went on for a minute before Vanessa finally chimed in. Evan... I've always liked that name.

Well, it's a normal name. So I like it.

Works for me, Penut. Though it'd be a lot cooler if it was Danger... but that's my middle name.

Your middle name is Winston.... idiot!

Part two: the Life and Times of James E. Wilson (hope you like crossover AUs)

James's earliest memory is his father, Wade holding him, comforting him... but also crying. He vaguely remembered being at the playground, running and jumping as most toddlers do... tripping on something and skinning his knees on the sidewalk... he naturally had the reaction of crying from the pain and surprise... it wasn't until James was much older that he understood why his dad kept mumbling why aren't you healing?

It's ok, dad... you don't need to cry. I already feel better.

Even at a young age, he felt compelled to comfort someone else. To help. It broke him out of thinking about his own problems, including skinned knees...

The result of this little accident was Wade panicking. They went back to the house and grabbed the dog and his other dad. Papa (or the big bad wolf if James was misbehaving) no amount of reasoning or comments from Logan couldn't stop him or calm Wade down.

Logan Howlett-Wilson get your ass in the car and drive us to the airport right now! Were going to the Mansion to see the fucking doctor RIGHT NOW!

Logan got the message, Wade didn't forgo pet names unless he was bone chillingly serious in intention and resolve. So within minutes, they were on a jet to New York. Where James met a fuzzy blue man he liked very much despite the blood draw. That was uncomfortable, but he found the lab he was in fascinating... weather or not, this influenced his future career he couldn't fully say. But probably a little.

The news delivered to the... not so young, but definitely, new parents was not stellar... Hank had run several tests and analyzed James' DNA structure. He possessed the X-Gene, but it was dormant due to being recessive. Much like Wade he'd have to undergo profound trauma to activate it. There was no guarantee he'd come out the other end with a healing factor. It could be anything... furthermore, it was highly unethical and unthinkable to subject a child.... Wade cut him off

I know a lot of people don't think highly of me. But how fucking dare you assume I'd even entertain the idea of tormenting my child.

Easy bub, I don't think Hank was implying anything. Ya' know he gets lost in the hypotheticals. Right Hank!?

The blue man nodded in agreement.

We will just... have to be extra careful.

Wade picked James up. C'mon soldier. There's a big metal doofus ya gotta meet.

---

One particular afternoon James was sitting in his office recounting some memories with his friend Gregory. Though they had a habit of referring to each other by sir name. Wilson and House

(what a twist)

The day the two met was actually one of the few points in time that if you knew who his parents were you'd say "oh yeah, that is clearly the offspring of Deadpool and Wolverine" it was at a medical conference in New Orleans. Wilson dosn't remember the exact circumstances he'd been drinking but his father's tempers came out of him as he'd threw punches and generally effectively kicked ass at a bar brawl (Wade would have been so proud) House ever the shit stirrer jumped in and backed him up. Truly his fathers son, meeting your best friend as a result of incredible violence... in a bar.

House had actually just finished telling Wilson about his most recent case, yet another patient that had been previously misdiagnosed as having lupus. It was Hashimoto's disease if you're curious. The interactions he'd had with the patient made him think she'd been being neglected, bare minimum socially isolated... he recognized his own surliness in others. It resulted in a dressdown of her parents that he was certain would result in an office visit with Cuddy and detention after school.

High-school wasn't a fun time for Gregory...

You know it wasn't exactly fun for me either.

From the age of 11 to the time he left for med school, he was escorted by armed gaurds to and from school. Growing up in Kansas city, he'd gone to Pembroke Hill School, a private school that specialized in STEM that's tuition cost as much as a new car annually... he was one of only two kid's that went to that school that arrived with a security detail, not however the only one that arrived in a limousine. The other kid was the child of Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift. They weren't friends... he didn't really have friends.

Aww poor little rich boy

House chided at him

At least you didn't get shoved into a locker...

Which was true. He didn't have friends but he didn't have enemies either. The closest thing he had to a best friend was his Grandma Al and Mr. Yoshitomi his driver/lead bodyguard. he was allowed to call him Yoshi...

The man was clearly retired Yakuza, and like his father Logan, tough on the outside but secretly a teddy bear. The truth is Wilson found himself alone at home, too. Apart from Al... but she mostly sat him down in front of a TV and fed him before going outside to smoke...

so apart from weekends, he was alone. Occasionally, he'd see his big sister Laura. She was frequently busy herself being the "official" Wolverine of the Xmen. He liked it when she brought him comics, fictionlized accounts of the adventures of his dad in the past, and his big sister... he knew his dad's loved him. No one could argue that... but What had started as two lovers in New York trying to make rent money by doing the only thing they were good at; picking up random jobs on the dark web (Killing mostly) in the mid 2020s morphed into a private security firm in Kansas City that rivaled Black Water and the (fucking) Pinkertons by the 2040s.

They were busy, and it did provide him a comfortable life without student loans or want for any material thing... But from 11 to 18, it was him Al his sister Ellie who was always off doing her own thing (he wished they were closer) and what had to be the world's oldest dog. She's still alive, actually. The dog loved him and was rarely not by his side when he was home (because all deadpools love their babies) Althea however was not, she was a chain smoker and heavy drug user until the day she died.

how that woman lived to be 115 is fucking beyond me

She lived long enough to see (metaphorically) Wilson graduate medical school. It was the last time he'd seen her. He moved away and started his residency in New Jersey. Wade had sent a private plane as well as several veiled threats to the Dean of medicine at the time to ensure Wilson had the time off to attend the funeral.

Wilson... I gotta ask, why did you have armed guards?

Oh! Funny story when I was 10. I was kidnapped once

(Exactly once I made sure of that)

It's true. He was heading home from school. He made it to the driveway of the tower he called home when some very ill-informed gangsters decided to kidnap the son of a rich man... they didn't do their resurch as to who's kid exactly, just figured they'd get a ransom...

In fairness on paper Wade and Logan weren't Wade and Logan, they were two random dudes who ran a lucrative business and weren't shy about showing off.

This leads to probably the second most traumatic memory Wilson had... not necessarily the kidnapping. They had actually treated him surprisingly well.

What shocked him was seeing his father Logan covered in blood kicking down the door of the room he'd been kept in. He'd never seen his father in the tight yellow and brow suit before. Or the mask... he had taken it off when he clocked James, but that only made it worse. The entire bottom of his father's face was coated in blood, like he'd gored a man (he actually had ripped open one of the gangsters throat with his teeth) the blood on his face was cut clear with two rivulets of tears. What James didn't know is they weren't just tears of joy seeing his son, but also tears of relief. If anything had happened to James, the Genocide he and his husband were going to commit in response would have made his incident in his own universe look like childs play.

[Image below: Scary dad privileges]

---

Rebellious teenage years were impossible. You couldn't steal weed from your blind grandma and hid it in your room, not from the nose of the Wolverine.

Do you know what this shit dose! It makes you fucking stupid is what it does, and your dad and I aren't raising a fucking idiot!

Logan never hit him. But he was scary when he yelled and loud... if he was really pissed those claws popped out. Never an actual threat but fucking scary. The only person in the house that actually got stabbed was Wade... and much to James's chagrin, he was pretty sure his dad liked it.

It wasn't the worst childhood, and it wasn't a bad life. Wilson became an oncologist partly because he was fascinated by his own father. The man who's cancer actually kept him alive. He had success, failures... it's like his dad said "what dosn't kill you makes you bad at intimacy kido" 3 ex wives later he finally understood what he meant by that.

All the events of his life that you know about that happened on the show. They happened more or less details and name's changed, cousins were not blood related etcetera. The ending however was quite different. Wilson and House lived to an advanced age. House did indeed fake his own death some time in 2069 and assumed a new life... but luckily for him, his "buddy" Wilson had a dad that knew how to get people new and interesting identities.

They had actually shown up one day at the condo... parking their motorcycles right in front of the door (no one dare question whatever the fuck Deadpools kid wanted to do at that building, Wade had long since put the HOA under his thumb) Wade welcomed his son in. Helped them out. House got a new first name... also, shortly after the Althea Sanderson memorial cancer research wing was built, Wilson found himself the head of Oncology at KU med hospital. Wilson never once questioned why a job was offered to him out of the blue and Wade never once questioned why Wilson and House shared a home out in Leewood.

The only other major difference is all his life when he could he returned home to the condo for the holidays. Where he'd see his seemingly ageless fathers and sisters. He loved his family Logan, Wade, Laura, and Ellie (we'll talk about her in another story.) Which is just as well. He never had children of his own, and after your 3rd failed marriage, you kinda give up on the idea of expanding your family; other than House occasionally tagging along. But until his dying day, his dad dotted on him. And bragged, boy did he brag especially to the Xmen when he had a chance to rub in their face his son the successful Doctor! (Suck on that Jean!)

But for Wade, the day did finally come that his immortality became a curse... with every Christmas, Thanksgiving, and spring break that came, James got older. Wade was at his retirement party, He remembers loving Dr. House's wildly inappropriate speech and toast. A man after his own heart, but after the laughter subsided, he realized that his boy, who was graciously receiving a gold watch, had lines in his face and gray hair.

The years kept coming... Wilson got older, he got sick... and his mortality came to pass.

If the universe brought these starbound lovers together for any particular reason. It was for this moment, Wade loved two things Intensely, his Wolverine and his children... but the Death of his first son broke him. Logan clinged on to Wade physically and emotionally. Doing everything he could to hold him together. It was many years before Wade could be called Ok. It was another couple hundred years before he even considered the idea of raising more children.

It should be noted that James was the only one to be fully genetically Logan and Wade's. He was special, one of a kind.

Wade carried a portion of James's ashes with him in a small locket around his neck where it stayed for countless millenia. In dangerous situations he'd even cut himself and put it under his skin so it wouldn't get lost...

Epilogue:

The lady at the end of the road sits in her ethereal other world. Surrounded by various time keeping devices dimly lit by candles flames that don't consume. She pulled out a pocket watch and a ledger. She had an appointment to keep. This one was a special case. The dark lady had the power to send out shades, to be everywhere at once. But this appointment she'd handle directly. She carried out her appointed task kindly but usually without emotion. She was inflexible and didn't bargain or despite what you may have heard play chess or gamble for time or souls....

Wade was there... hospice care was set up about a week ago, and he sat by James side as the ravage of time and biology took its toll. By regular human standards Dr. James Wilson lived a good life, a long life at that. He was 97 years 6 months 2 weeks and 5 days old the morning she came. Logan had been with him the entire night before Wade had taken his shift early that morning so Logan could get some sleep. At about 10 am in the guise of a hospice nurse, she walked into the room, Wade was no fool. Only one person still alive (if you could call her alive) looked like that... He knew why she was there. He hadn't seen her in a very long time.

I see we're sticking with the Aubrey Plaza look... tears started welling up in his eyes. He looked at James in the bed beside him Despite looking down at the face of an old man, Wade still saw his baby. His son.

I thought you'd like this look, it's definitely more pleasant than most. If it's any consolation, Wade... I'm sorry I have to do this.

I haven't seen you in over 100 years. Not even the times I've died lately. Haven't seen you since the time I jumped out of an airplane into a volcano after Vanessa dumped me. Now you show up! I know why you're here.

The tears were streaming down Wade's face. Hot on his cheeks, his eyes red. He looks at her pleadingly.

Please, take me instead. Please, Lady Death. Leave my baby alone. Please, I beg you, take me.

Oh, Wade... My love. It has caused me great sorrow to not see you all these years. But don't you know? I can't take you even if I wanted to. You and Logan have woven yourself in the fabric of the universe. You and him are part of Eternity. I can't take you only, Entropy can take you. probably shortly before he takes me... even death has a death.

I know this is hard. I beg you to forgive me... but it's James's time to go. But because I love you. I waited as long as I could, he should have passed before you woke up this morning. But now you have an opportunity to say goodbye...

She moved to the bed and touched James's hand. He sat up and looked at his father.

Why are you crying, dad?

He stood up, out of the bed. Wade jumped out of his chair and embraced him tightly.

Oh, my sweet Kitten. Im so sorry. Please forgive your old man.

Wade sobs for a while before he can talk again...

I remember the day you were born... I loved you, I held you. I swore I'd burn down the world to protect you... but I can't protect you anymore...

Dad, I Don't understand. What's going on.

That's unfortunately my job to explain... but it'd be easier to show you...

She points at the bed; James looks down and to his surprise, he sees... himself. Drained of color, unmoving.

Dr. James Wilson, you have lived your life in service of others. A life well spent. But now is the time to leave that life... I'm sorry

Dad, you don't have to protect me anymore. It'll... it'll be ok.

Kitten... I love you, and though I desperately want to rage and fight and yell to keep you here longer... it's not the right thing to do. My friend here gave me an opportunity few have. I'm going to take it instead of throwing it in her face.

I love you...

I love you too Dad.

Wade hugged his son one last time, kissed him on the cheek, and led him by the hand to Lady Death.

Can... can Logan say goodbye, too?

I'm sorry Wade. I've already pushed the limits of the rules to extend this opportunity to you. I'm afraid I can't

Ok...

He looks up at James.

Your father and I will miss you. Honeybadger loved his kitten as much as I do.

I know, Dad... I know. I want you to know that I had a good life. I'm at peace. I don't want you worrying about me.

You silly boy. It doesn't matter if you're 9 or 97. I was always going to worry about you.

Lady Death extended her hand out to James.

It's time... I'm sorry, but don't be sacred. I promise where we're going isn't bad. It won't hurt.

James took her hand, and slowly took his other hand out of his father's grasp... turned and looked at him.

I love you. You were the best dad. I guess now is the time. Goodbye.

I could have been better, I'm sorry. I love you....... James... it... it might be a while before I see you again... goodbye. I'll always love you, kitten.

They walked away from Wade out the bedroom door. Wades heart broke into a million pieces as they turned to go down the hall. There was a flash of light... and he was gone.

The End.

If fan fics had credits. This would be the closing song. It is special to me... I myself would like it played at my funeral.

Below is a translation into English. Be sure to give the user who provided it a ❤️

Link to Next chapter

Branched story, this is the Noir final chapter

Branching story the next scene from and unconventional marriage is below

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 25.

Summary: Oliver, Farleigh, and matters of pride.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: non-graphic smut, implied noncon (the Oliver/Farleigh scene), manipulation.

A/N: 3085 words. i really didn't mean for this to be ANOTHER chapter about the henrys dinner however i thought it was important to get an Oliver POV regarding everything that happens between him and farleigh. this was meant to be longer and extend over several more days but i think i'd rather we follow reader for the fallout.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

You've been off all night. Oliver can tell you're trying to hide it, trying to mask your feelings with drinks and the company of the Catton siblings, but he's not blind to you, he never has been. Occasionally, from where he'd been observing the three of you, he sees your gaze land on Farleigh, sees the barest crease of your brow that everyone else seems to miss, and the way you always looked away. Never more than a moment spent on the likes of Farleigh Start.

The same man you seemed to otherwise have all the time in the world for.

Something had happened, something he wasn't privy to, something that occurred in the time you and Farleigh were outside, and Oliver was otherwise occupied with Felix's kindness and attention.

While Oliver never wanted to see you upset, there was a quiet triumph in his chest upon witnessing the disconnect between yourself and Farleigh. Farleigh had tried to drive a wedge in your relationship with Oliver, but it seems as though it had backfired, despite you still believing him over Oliver's attempt at manipulating the truth. Small victories, Oliver thinks to himself.

Perhaps it was overconfidence that lead him to his seat beside Farleigh later that evening. Feeling tipsy and vindictive with his own conversation with you still playing on repeat in his mind, he humours Farleigh's game of 'Fuck, Chuck, or Marry' with the portraits, lets him press against Oliver's side as he murmurs almost knowingly about Richard III's insecurities would lead him to work harder in bed. Every word Farleigh has ever spoken to him after their very first meeting has always been so clearly deliberate and insidious; Oliver's wondering if he's projecting here, while trying once more to psych Oliver out.

But if Farleigh wants to play games, Oliver wants to win.

"Or you could just fuck me?" He offers, voice low, turning from the stern-faced portraits to Farleigh himself after a moment. Farleigh is rather beautiful when drunk in his own right and caught off-guard. There's something so deliciously tempting in his big, brown eyes, something suddenly dangerous about how close this beautiful boy was sitting in this moment. But he could never trust Farleigh's intentions, especially not now.

And clearly Farleigh didn't trust his either. Clever boy. Too clever for his own good.

"Why'd you tell Y/N about me and Venetia?" He asks plainly. Watching Farleigh's mind try to come up with a justification was fascinating; it seems even he knows that Oliver won't believe whatever lie he comes up with.

"Well, I didn't think they'd react that badly -"

"Yes, you did," Oliver cuts him off without a second of hesitation, and already Farleigh's lips are twisting into an amused smile, but Oliver's not done, "you knew they'd run right to Felix about it too, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," the look in Farleigh's eyes is far meaner than his sly smile, something unexpectedly sharp there. A nerve struck; what had you and he said to each other earlier? But Oliver keeps his façade up, lets his face drop; if Farleigh reads guilt in his disappointment, that's on him. For a moment, just a single moment, he thinks he can see a flicker of apology cross Farleigh's delicate features as Oliver sighs softly. His gaze drops.

"You know, if you ever wanna talk to anyone, you can talk to me, Farleigh," he offers softly, expression open and honest as he once more meets Farleigh's gaze. An imitation of an olive branch.

"What do you mean?" There it is, that distrustful look that Oliver had expected. Farleigh's well aware of how observant Oliver is, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to figure out he'd picked up on the tension between you and him, the wedge between supposed best friends. Oliver lets the unspoken implications alone apply pressure to that wedge for just a moment before he changes tact in his continued effort to disarm this man.

"Well, I know you're going through a hard time at home, I know how that feels," Oliver allows himself to be read as vulnerable in this moment, "when things are so precarious," he sighs deeply, gaze wandering as if lost in thought, and not carefully catalogues each minute change in Farleigh's expression, "it's terrifying... and lonely," and he meets Farleigh's almost disbelieving gaze. Farleigh was not so easily lead, it seemed, but the challenge of him is almost thrilling, "and it must be so fucking weird feeling like you have to ask them for everything," and your words about Farleigh's pride echo through Oliver's mind as he drops his gaze, "I know how demeaning it can feel."

A spark of recognition in Farleigh's eyes, something surprised and just a little pained for reasons even beyond Oliver, before they settle into something that almost looks like regret.

"And I know you fuckin' hate me -" Oliver starts, but suddenly the regret is no longer just in Farleigh's eyes, his whole expression softening for just a moment as he tries to deny it.

"I... I don't hate you," his voice is uncharacteristically sincere, as is the look in his eyes. Perfect. This is exactly where Oliver wants him. Despite his better instincts, Oliver wants to forge this connection, wants this common ground, needs Farleigh on side. Both of them love you and Felix; they're going to be in each other's lives whether they like it or not, and Oliver's fucking sick of fighting Farleigh on that at every turn.

"But," Oliver lets his tone soften to something sincere, as if to appreciate the admission before attempting to double down on this fragile moment of connection, "if you ever wanted me to talk to them to see if there's..." he sighs, searching for the right words to appear as earnest as he's able, "if I can help in any way..." Farleigh's too proud to ever ask, so Oliver knows he can't do any more than imply he should do as much. Instead, he adds, "even Y/N," for good measure.

Something shifts in Farleigh's expression, a hint of skepticism.

"Even Y/N?" But his tone is strange, unreadable, gaze still boring into Oliver's.

"I know they're too proud to offer," Oliver tells him with the faintest notes of sadness, "too afraid of sounding like their mum, but they love you," he watches the way pain momentarily flickers in Farleigh's eyes, "I can talk to them too."

He hopes Farleigh can hear the intention in his words; they all love you, so I'm willing to do right by you.

After a beat, Farleigh laughs softly, finally tearing his gaze from Oliver, the movement of his head too quick for Oliver to read his reaction properly. Alas, the moment is broken, Farleigh is standing, and Oliver just hopes his words have had their intended effect. At the very least, he's sure he's subtly needled Farleigh's insecurities enough for him to reconsider his ongoing cruelty towards Oliver.

Except in the next few moments, it's made clear that he'd pushed him too far. He doesn't trust the look in Farleigh's eyes as he's pulling Oliver up to sing whatever song he's chosen, but Oliver reluctantly goes along with it. There's alarm bells in the back of his head as he plays along, wanting to believe that this isn't some kind of trap, that this is really Farleigh trying to connect with him in some way.

Nervous with microphone in hand, he scans the room as the song's opening plays. The tightness in his chest eases when he spots Felix in the corner of the room by the bar cart with you and Venetia, smiling at him warmly, encouragingly. But only after he begins to sing does his gaze focus upon you, and his blood runs cold. Amid the cheering of the Catton siblings beside you, and the others around the room, you're not looking at Oliver, you're looking at Farleigh, and you're fucking furious.

But the song's begun now, even if he's not entirely listening to the lyrics, he can't stop in front of all these people, can he? But his attention turns back to the little screen and he reads the words as he sings, voice faltering -

"I love you-" oh. Farleigh really fucking hated him, "you pay my rent."

Farleigh cheers obnoxiously from the side of the room, and Oliver actually sees you make a start to move towards him, but Felix holds you back. The sight of your furious indignation on his behalf does little to ease the shame and embarrassment that flares up in him in this moment. All he can think to do is spitefully insist that Farleigh finish the song, that it's his song too after all, but Farleigh's high on the victory and completely without shame as he accepts his place in the spotlight.

All Oliver wants to do is just disappear, hot, angry tears pricking his eyes as he absconds through the nearest door. He needs to get out of this suffocating house, away from these entitled assholes, he needs fresh air -

"Ollie, mate -" he couldn't even hear Felix's footsteps running to catch up with him, only hearing him when his hand is on Oliver's shoulder, "that was fucked -"

"It's fine, Felix," Oliver tries to insist, even as Felix turns him around to face him.

"It's not fine, it was fucking cruel is what it was," Felix holds him steady by the shoulders, but Oliver just hangs his head. There's no way he's letting Felix see him cry over this, especially after he'd just bore witness to Farleigh's thorough public humiliation of him.

"I'll be fine, really, I just need some air and some space," Oliver reiterates, trying to step back. Felix lets him go; Oliver can almost picture his crestfallen look, but still doesn't have the nerve to look up.

"Ollie," Felix's voice is so soft, so apologetic. Oliver wants nothing more than to hold him tightly, hear him reassure that Farleigh was being a cunt and that no-one thinks of him like that, even if Oliver knows that it's not true, that you and Felix are the only ones that see him as anything more than just a pretty, little charity case. Felix would believe himself, though; he was far too earnest for the rest of his family half the time. It's one of the countless things he's come to love about Felix.

He takes another step back.

"I just need to be alone for a bit," Oliver's voice softens, fighting back the urge to sniffle, "I'll be fine, Felix, I promise."

"Will you come find me later? Please?"

Oliver has no idea what he's going to do in the next five minutes let alone beyond that. But he nods.

"Maybe," is what he says, "I promise I'll be okay; if I don't see you tonight, we'll still hang out tomorrow."

"Okay," Felix sounds almost disappointed, before he sighs deeply. His concern is quickly turning back to irritation as his thoughts seem to be returning to his cousin, "you know I love you, mate."

"I know," Oliver agrees, "love you too, Felix," and he walks away, because he knows Felix would wait in this moment forever if Oliver let him, unable to properly leave his clearly upset friend even if dismissed. A loyal dog in his own right when he wanted to be.

Sitting in the garden, Oliver's sense of shame crystalises into fury with each deep breath he takes. The absolute audacity of Farleigh to do that to him, and after all the trouble he's been causing you and Felix lately! Prideful prick.

So certain of his place in their lives, Oliver knew the only thing that would ever really matter to Farleigh is losing it. The cruelty was almost predictable at this point, Oliver's actually foolish to have not seen it coming. Oliver feels as though he should never have believed you for the supposed kindness you saw in Farleigh; like Felix you were too loving, too permissive for your own good sometimes. Honestly, Farleigh didn't even deserve your kindness, he thought ruefully.

Oliver couldn't say he hadn't at least tried diplomacy.

After the house had grown quiet and he was sure he wouldn't run into anyone, aside from that uncanny butler, though he seemed incredibly adept at ignoring the strangeness of Saltburn's youth, Oliver heads back to his room. The sound of Felix's door opening makes him start, and he ducks in quickly, closing the door over to avoid whoever it was who was leaving. He knew he was too full of rage to face yours or Felix's kindness in this moment. However, he's surprised to hear Venetia humming to herself, and to see her wearing your navy robe as she trots down the hall towards her own room. Not a second later, Oliver hears the shower on in the adjoining bathroom, and he closes the door, confused, wondering where Felix could have gotten to at the end of the night.

But considering Venetia only made his rage and guilt grow stronger in his gut. Another person who took you for granted, another person who felt entitled to your affection. As much as he tried, he couldn't get to sleep, and his eyes land on the dark shape of the book by his bedside. Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection. It had been left undoubtably by you near the beginning of his stay, and had helped him ingratiate himself to Felix's father as he took an interest in the antiquities Farleigh had simply sneered at. The antiquities Oliver knew the exorbitant value of, and how much that money could theoretically mean to Farleigh, and a plan began to form.

Farleigh would never let him live this night down, Farleigh would never let him live this life with you both that Oliver craved so desperately. Farleigh would never let him live in peace, if he could help it. So Farleigh couldn't be allowed to live here.

Oliver is quick to find his way to Farleigh's room, stalking as quietly as he's able through the grand halls with furious intent. Each time he'd sought it out, you'd always been with Farleigh on the other side, lavishing the bastard with undeserved attention and pleasure. Sinking down, Oliver peers through the keyhole as he'd done time and again, but there's no silhouette of you against the night sky beyond Farleigh's window, just the man himself sleeping soundly.

Unlike you, Oliver does not know Saltburn well enough to slip through it silently, but Farleigh doesn't stir when the door creaks. Farleigh is beautiful and terrible, even as he sleeps.

Oliver had tried to play nice, Farleigh had left him no choice. He would take Farleigh's pride, and his precious place in this house whether he liked it or not.

It's almost disappointing how little of a challenge Farleigh poses. It's almost too easy to break him, to make him submit, to make him obedient. Despite the fact that he'd watched you do it, he hadn't realised how desperate Farleigh was to be under someone's thumb in moments like this, how quickly his resolve would crumble. Oh there's anger, there's push back, but it's a token effort at best. He snarls as Oliver rides him, digging his nails into Oliver's thighs hard enough to draw blood, but he still cums.

"You're fucking sick," he spits breathlessly, but he still has a hand on Oliver's cock, still let's Oliver's cum splatter across his chest without complaint before he shoves him off to clean himself off.

Are you going to behave? He must have Oliver's soft orders playing on repeat in his mind, because he doesn't even complain when he sees Oliver sitting on his bed when he gets back. His scowl is to be expected, but Oliver knows this is his victory, and that it won't be the last for tonight, as he'd already found Farleigh's phone on the windowsill. Opening the curtains, Farleigh cracks open the window before he lights a cigarette.

"You don't fucking love them," Farleigh doesn't even look at him, barking a soft, humourless laugh. Oliver freezes, his expression hard as he looks to Farleigh; his victory feels short-lived as the anger quickly returns at the accusation, "I told them you were just going to use them, and break their fucking hearts, and I was right."

"Watch yourself, Farleigh," Oliver warns sharply, voice low and dangerous.

"And the fucked up part is that if you were honest, they would have let you," Farleigh continues, sounding almost disgusted; with himself, with you and Felix, with Oliver, with the whole situation, "but now they think they're in love, and I just have to watch them crash and burn because of you," taking a long draft of his cigarette, he holds the smoke in his lungs before it spills out around his words, lip curling in derision, "you're a fucking black hole, Oliver."

Oliver watches him finish his smoke and close the window, drawing the blinds once again. He doesn't look at Oliver. He doesn't ask him to leave. He doesn't get it, so he's done with you all; he's broken, he behaves.

"Good night, Farleigh," Oliver says flatly as Farleigh stretches out on the bed beside him, on his side, back to Oliver.

"For the record," Farleigh bites out quietly, "I do hate you." As if it wasn't abundantly clear already. But Oliver remains quiet, despite the absolute outrage Farleigh's words had sparked inside him.

Everything he was doing, he did because he loved you and Felix. Everything.

Laying still and quiet beside Farleigh, he gazes up at the roof, trying to keep his breathing even, listening to Farleigh's own as it grew slow and deep, and Oliver was sure he was asleep. Giving it just a bit more time to make sure, he sits up carefully, making sure not to jostle Farleigh in the slightest, before he reaches for the phone on the windowsill.

Farleigh didn't understand you and Felix, and he certainly didn't deserve any ounce of your attention. Farleigh was a self-serving, entitled creature fuelled by spite and pride; he'd set this house on fire if it would keep him warm, Oliver's sure. So he enacts his plan, sends the email that would spell Farleigh's ruin, and deletes all trace of it from the man's phone before he puts it back where he found it.

And he leaves as quietly as he'd arrived.

[smehur]

Drarry fic recs #6

[podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry written by @lettersbyelise and read by @timothysboxers

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

A delightful fic and a phenomenal reading! There are few things I love more than ex-rivals Harry and Draco discovering they actually enjoy each other's company, especially when it's done with such humor. The game of kill, fuck, marry was hilarious, and so was the dancing. And Draco's final birthday wish, well. 🔥 A phrase seen in many stories but rarely delivered with quite that much cheek. I'm all smiles and biting lips just thinking about it. 10/10 would read/listen again.

ready, able by @garagepaperback

“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Harry keeps every muscle on his face particularly still, hoping it looks to Malfoy as absolutely blank as it feels to him. Half a minute passes. “No,” Malfoy, already doing a poor job of sitting normally on his chair, bends in half, nearly falling out of it. He’s laughing. “No, Potter, no. No- don’t- you’re twenty-five years old!” “And?” Harry asks, heat staining his face. - Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.

Apart from being captivating, tantalizing and touching, this story is also an interesting (and, for this reader, unique) take on the fuck-or-die trope, which I'll generally read "for fun" but will only take "seriously" if it's somehow challenged and reshaped till choice reasserts itself. Like in this fic! Which, on top of everything, (spoiler alert!) ends with one of the hottest sex scenes in my HP reading so far. Truly exquisite. 👌

Savage by @marguerite26

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Another instance where excellent fic managed to sell me a trope I'm not a fan of: werewolves! It's a phenomenal story, with an interesting, political plot, excellent pacing, flawless characterization and steaming hot sex. What more could one hope for?

Virtuous by @heyjude19-writing

Draco is only sin inverted.

I loved this short piece down to the last word. It's so multifaceted! At face value, it's a confession of an unredeemed Draco, but is he? Is he really? Or did "fake it till you make it" work a little better than he expected? I'm fascinated by this because it touches on the question of whether a person can really change, which is, obviously, central to Drarry. Does a selfish motivation behind an act of kindness make the act less kind? I don't know the answers. But I do so enjoy fic that asks the questions!

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

This story is very old and predates the canon ending of the series (thus missing out on a lot of canon Drarry content that would've made it even better). It's also a bit old-fashioned, compared to the fic I mostly read these days, and it triggered some of my technical pet peeves. Yet it hooked me within the first few paragraphs, and I grew to love it with a slow-burn passion. Draco's sudden disability is depicted in a very straight-forward, matter-of-fact, incredibly effective yet sensitive way; and his manner of coping with it is perfectly in character. Meanwhile, Harry is blind in his own way, which helps build the tension but never crosses the line of being too contrived. I had so many feels reading this. It's just beautiful, warts and all.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to the authors of these, and all other lovely stories shared within this amazing fandom, and to the readers helping spread the word. 🥰

[vonnawithav]

I don’t like romance in movies

Now, this is totally personal opinion and preference, so please keep that in mind when reading.

“I don’t like romance plots in movies”

That sounds so weird I know. Especially when this entire blog I dedicated to one ineffable couple I’ve hyper fixated on ever since I offhandedly watched a random show on prime when I was bored.

There’s lots of things I don’t like about the idea of stereotypical *ahem, usually heterosexual* romance, and one of those things is the perceived intensity of attraction.

While I understand it to an extent, I also don’t. On the few occasions I’ve been romantically interested in someone I’ve never had the urge to rip their clothes off and jump their skin, or marry them that afternoon.

I do however, want to show them my book collection, send them obscure memes, talk about that one scene in that one show I can’t move on from yet, listen to them talk about their passions, share romantic but subtle moments, and just generally enjoy each other’s company.

Maybe this is because my lack of neurotypical tendencies, my demisexuality, or just my queerness in general, I don’t know.

But this type of romance is rarely shown in media, (again, in my personal viewing experience), especially in straight media.

You’re probably wondering what the fuck this has to do with movies. Same honestly I lost my train of thought one sec-

Ah yes.

Romance in movies feels immensely rushed to me. There is no time to sit and talk while you watch the sunrise, there cannot be an entire episode where the entire plot line is your traumatic childhood and how you two can bond over the fact both of your dads left for milk and never came back, or your wooden frog collection.

Noooo, instead, there must be this instant inexplicable attraction that causes both of your hormones to go haywire, because the plot only has two hours to not only get through this plot line BUT the other three in the background.

For romance to work in my head, 👏🏾I 👏🏾 Need 👏🏾 Bonding 👏🏾 time 👏🏾.

That’s one of the many reasons I love OFMD and Good Omens so much, we get to see that bonding time.

Ed and Stede chilling while having breakfast in bed while they look at each other lovingly?

Goals.

Azira and Crowley sitting and enjoying a good bottle of wine while talking about the end of the world?

Never seen anything better.

I think romance is at its best when subtle and calming, not frantic and unnerving.

Don’t get me wrong, I think franticness has its place in romance, especially once sexual tension has begun, but there needs to be large spaces of comfort and safety in between. (In my personal opinion)

Alrighty then, I’ll be off.

Lmk if you see where I’m coming from, or if I’m just posting insane ramblings because I’m sleep deprived and recovering from a cold 🥲.

[sphireath-wisp]

#Fairytale (Sae's Version)

Sypnosis: Your relationship with them as a cliche, romantic book trope <3

Warnings: Not Proofread, gender is not specified but reader is described with the term "pretty", messy interchanging grammar, slight cursing, sort of spoilers for the scene when Sae meets Rin after returning from Spain(?)

Note: Other versions coming up soon!!

Featuring: Sae Itoshi x GN! reader

Sae Itoshi - Childhood Sweethearts

"Meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favorite."

There was this strange kid in your class who goes by the name of "Sae Itoshi". Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, maybe it was fate that drew him close to you. Perhaps it was the fortune slip you drew on New Year's, bold letters painted on paper, asserting the supposed misfortune that will follow you throughout your year.

But, to start your year on a sour note, you happened to sit right next to him. You didn't hate him but didn't exactly enjoy his company either. Furthermore, he had a sharp tongue, refined and honed with a rich vocabulary that he used to his heart's content. Whether it was directed at the teachers or those guys that stick around him like glue, every sneer and snide remark reached your ears.

And oh god, he was so creative with his words to the point where you couldn't hold back your laughter.

Sucking in your stomach, your chest puffs out in an attempt to hold in the giggles on the verge of leaking out. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing away as you sink your teeth down on your lower lip.

Sae leans back in his chair as usual. His attention was drawn in by your strange behavior, softly chuckling and pursing your lips to resist a smile. Testing the waters, a witty remark slips out of his lips and he connects the dots when you struggle to contain your laughter after his words.

"This teacher is way too strict... right?" Sae initiates a conversation. For the first time, in the two weeks you've sat beside each other and referred to each other as 'seatmates', he spoke directly to you without being forced to by any pestering teachers - who always insisted that 'this class is a family'.

You pause, a moment of silence that you needed. To consider what to say - then reconsider again.

"...yeah." Something simple wouldn't make this any less awkward than it already is, right? "You're right, he needs to really chill."

You lean forward and stack your forearms on the desk you and Sae were supposed to share. Sae observes silently, hands in his pocket. He fiddles with the only lollipop he had left in his pocket after all of his friends ran off with the rest of his collection, contemplating whether he should give the last one to you or keep it for himself.

Teal eyes land on you, innocently absorbing your features, the way your leg bounced up and down, how you twirled the pen in your hand (occasionally dropping it). Sae turns his head away, the rational part of his mind reminding him that staring - especially for that long - is rude.

However, he took away something from that little session of scrutinizing you - you're pretty.

A simple fact, an observation - Sae convinces himself. It totally isn't just him being subjective and admiring you. Yeah, everyone else probably regards you as pretty. It isn't just him, right?

"I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was... not love at first sight exactly, but familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you." - Mhairi McFarlane via 5000letters (via perfect)

"Do you want to be my partner?" You wanted to tap his shoulder before asking, but your gut told you not to - it was rude to touch people without permission... or maybe it was something else that made your gut churn so uncomfortably.

It had gotten easier to talk to him through the lighthearted insults thrown at the others in class or the gossip you would both indulge in, but things still occasionally felt awkward and stiff. But, it was progress! School days wouldn't seem so dull if you could befriend the aloof boy next to you.

"Why?"

"It's convenient that way." Thank god you had prepared a response in mind beforehand. "I don't wanna move seats and take all of my stuff to another table just to move back here again, you know what I mean?"

Sae's eyes drift to the group of guys signaling to him and, while he had no problem shutting them down, he was reluctant.

"Hey," You begin, not wanting to force or pressure him into anything - though you knew damn well he's too stubborn to be forced into something he doesn't like. "You don't have to if you don't wanna"

"No. Let's pair up." Sae interjects. "The last time I paired up with those idiots, we got no work done." You widened your eyes and he swore he saw stars, causing a small chuckle to escape him.

Strangely, he found himself growing fond of your reactions and expressions. You were... very full of life; he liked that about you. The way your eyebrows shot up when he directed a snarky remark to the teacher who belittled you - which he took more offense to than you did - only pushed him to make more sarcastic comments until you struggled to contain your own laughter.

You nudged him as a plea to stop, not because you disliked it - hell no, it entertained you and made class something you looked forward to. However, your actions backfired when Sae took it as a challenge. His hands snaked their way to your sides and zapped you with lightning speed. You were relieved that the class was so loud during discussions, the yelp you let out would have turned heads.

"S-Sae! Okay, okay, stop, you win! You can do the research, I'll do the writing." You panted for air when he finally ceased, a smug smirk pasted on his face. With a toothy smile, he slid the papers to your table. "Good, I knew you were reasonable."

You wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes with the back of your index finger, clutching onto your stomach with your other hand to shield your body. "You better not slack," Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes and earned a scoff from him. "I could say the same to you," He retorts before packing his pencil case back in his bag to move to the next class.

"Sae, your pencil," You silently pass him it. "Return me it later. We'll see each other in the next class anyway, right?"

"You trust me with it?" You respond to his question with another, lowering your hand - something as small as a pencil could be seen as insignificant, but it was still his. Sae already had the strap of his backpack hanging on his shoulder by the time he came up with a reply, "...I guess."

Conveniently, the next class required everyone to pair up too. Firing knowing glances at each other from across the class, you both already found your partner before the teacher had even finished speaking.

"I didn't know what to call it, what was happening between us, but I liked it. It felt silly and fragile and good." - Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

"Say 'ahhh'," You scoop a spoonful of rice and stop it in front of Sae's mouth, waiting for him to open his mouth instead of stubbornly turning his head the other way.

"I can feed myself, (Name)." Sae firmly states, rotating his body and turning his back to you. At least, in this position, you won't see the raging flush decorating the apple of his cheeks - a heat he wasn't used to and couldn't get to disappear.

"Not when you have a fractured wrist and sprained the other, don't even think about overexerting yourself." Your voice is firm, eyes trained on his hands.

Sae doesn't respond - maybe it was something he didn't want to bring up. It's okay, you're used to giving in to him and his petty demands.

He's silent, deathly silent. Reluctance is clear in his every move when he faces you, lips parting and leaning forward for you to feed him without any issue. The last thing he'd want is to cause you any more trouble when you went out of your way to help him - help he wanted and needed, but he'd rather die than admit that.

For once, he'll put his voice to rest, not a single whine or groan slipping from his lips when you accidentally spill a bit of rice on his lap or when the spoon bumps into his teeth. For once, he isn't as irritated by the stares he receives and the nudges he gets from his soccer buddies when they pass by - he notices, but he couldn't care less.

And you? It was a struggle on your end to ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach. You had found comfort in the silence you and Sae used to find awkward, eyes speaking languages only you and he could understand.

His gaze never left yours, no matter how many times you bashfully looked elsewhere to prevent the pink shade on your cheeks from becoming any deeper, any bolder, any brighter, any more obvious to the boy you had developed a silly crush on.

"Are you not going to eat?" You pause, realizing that the bowl of noodles that was supposed to serve as your lunch must have gone cold by now. You felt hungry, but a cold bowl of noodles didn't seem too appetizing to your grumbling stomach. "...I'm fine, I'll eat later."

"At least drink something."

"Later." You reply dismissively, more getting him to eat.

"PE is next. You're not going to have enough energy, you know. What if you pass out or something?" Sae narrows his eyes at you, not remembering the last time he got so worked up about something other than soccer.

"Then, I guess I'm sitting out with you."

He doesn't say anything back, chewing on his food silently. "...You should look out for yourself more often."

"I could say the same for you." You place the spoon down, finally through with the bowl of food. "You were the one who blocked that soccer ball from hitting my head, so I owe you that." He used his hand to try and block a soccer ball hurling right at you and the impact caused his other hand - which he was using as a support for his weight - to slip and sprain itself. It was certainly a streak of misfortune for him.

"It was one time-"

"So you wouldn't protect me again?"

He shuts up, clicking his tongue after.

"Maybe we'll meet again, when we are slightly older and our minds less hectic, and I'll be right for you and you'll be right for me."

"You're really leaving, huh?" It was pouring outside and judging by the amount of background noise coming from Sae's side of the phone, he was probably at the airport by now.

"...Yeah- Sorry, it's really laggy here."

You chuckle, hugging your pillow to your chest with the phone by your ear. "It's fine, as long as I can hear you."

Sae sighed into the phone, the same rich and colorful vocabulary used to criticize the ridiculously noisy airport and geek out about his future in Spain - a future he wished wasn't away from all of the things he held dear, his family, his friends... you.

"Real Madrid. I'm still sort of in shock." You replied with a barely audible 'uh-huh'. "I made the decision to leave a while ago, but I'm still processing leaving Japan."

His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as if he knew you weren't handling his departure well - he knew you like the back of his hand after all. However, it had the opposite effect, the fact that he cared only made you want to cry more. He was so damn observant for his age.

"Can we-" You take a deep breath... you could be a little selfish just for today, right? "Can we call until you get on the plane?"

"...I hope, I have earphones in, so it should be fine." Your tense shoulders drop, burying your face into the tear-stained pillow. "Rin's clinging to me so much, even though he said he's okay with me going."

"He wants to see you achieve your dreams and all, but he'll definitely miss you, you know?" You related to him, a little too much. "Where are you now?"

"Just past security and bag checks, I have a little bit of time before I board the plane..." Sae clutches his passport in his hand. "I gotta say bye to my family."

"Tell Rin to hug you for me."

"...right." Sae hugs Rin even tighter.

It's silent between you and him other than the background chatter and buzz - a silence you were well acquainted with.

"They left... or should I say I left them?" You hear the sound of the wheels of his suitcase; he's heading somewhere. "Don't say sad shit like that, Sae. You're going to Spain; you're gonna be a star! As your biggest fan, I don't wanna see you moping around."

"I'm about to board the plane, I'll be quiet for a little, but I'm listening." Sae reassures you.

"Okay. I'll start rambling as usual then." You laugh lightly, still in denial that this could be the last conversation you have with him. "Before you leave, I promise to hold that grudge against the teacher you hate - I never knew why you hated them though. I promise to take care of your pencil because in the end I never returned it."

You don't hear a response from Sae, but you can neither stop your word vomit or tears.

"I promise to take good care of Rin in your stead. I promise to be more careful and 'look out for myself' more. I promise I'll always support you from the other side of the screen. And- and, I know we won't call much because of the timezones," You take a shaky breath. "but, please don't forget about me, Sae."

You sniffle, the pile of tissues next to you only increasing. "Sae, I never got to tell you-"

"I'm in my seat." He interjects suddenly, voice as unstable and shaky as your breathing. It was a plea - a plea to please don't force yourself to say anymore, a plea to tell you that he knows, a plea to remind you to take deep breaths because he can hear how painful it is for you, a plea to beg you to stop before it's too much for him and he cries too.

It's a mixture of gratitude and regret. He's glad you don't have to see him like this, but it'd be a blessing to have you by his side, to ease this ache in his chest.

"Sae." You don't want to stop now- you can't; you need to finish what you started. "I lov-"

The call ends - he disconnected; the plane took off.

"You never meet the same person twice, even in the same person."

Sae Itoshi - he's made it, but he's not the same.

When you heard Rin shout at his own older brother from afar, you knew something was off. No, no, Rin would never shout at him - not the very person he put on a pedestal and looked up to his whole life.

"I don't want that!" Rin's eyes glare at Sae, or the shell of the human he once was. "I'm the younger brother of the best striker in the world!" You felt your own beating, living heart crack in your chest for the second time - the first was after meeting Sae's tired eyes, accompanied by the dark eye bags.

The heart you crappily pieced back together after not being able to tell your childhood sweetheart how you felt was on the verge of breaking again - so easily too, after all the sleepless nights you spent trying to mend it together.

There it was again: that uncomfortable, unbearable silence. Sae's lips part, a shaky breath escaping him, yet no words follow.

After all these years, even you weren't sure if you were looking at 'Sae Itoshi, Rin's older brother, the best striker in school, your foul-mouthed seatmate.' or 'Sae Itoshi, the prodigy, the boy genius'. Were you really staring back at the person you fell in love with?

"Let's go, Rin," You spoke up, even though every fiber of your being was telling you, begging you to stay. Your gaze locks with his for a short moment, eyes pleading with him to please stop you from leaving.

"...Sae," Have you ever said his name so coldly? "how long are you staying in Japan?"

He glances down - as if too shameful to meet your gaze. The collar of his windbreaker covers the lower half of his face and brings more attention to his dreary, reddened eyes. "I'm leaving tomorrow; tomorrow morning, 9am." His trembling hands stay in his pockets.

"I see." was all you could utter and it left both you and Sae terribly disappointed.

"I don't care, I love you anyhow. It is too late to turn you out of my heart. Part of you lives here." -Anne Sexton, from A Self-portrait in Letters

It was like a replay of that heart-wrenching memory 4 years ago. He was leaving and that thought haunted your mind for the whole night. Everything ached, your head, your body, your heart. It was stupid to chase a crush you had left behind 4 years ago, but you had realized by now that your feelings had bloomed into something more than just a simple crush.

It was 6 a.m., tear-stained pillows, and a migraine steadily kicking in. You mindlessly reread what Sae and you used to text each other, what you could've been with him. For all these years, you haven't called him, because the first few months of trying always left you with no response. You felt like a bother, prompted to leave him voice messages instead of hearing his voice - were you truly as important to him as he was to you?

Your fingers hovered over the call button. You were too tired to get out of bed, much too tired to think clearly and stop yourself. Before you knew it, your head bobbed down and your finger lost the strength to hold itself up, pressing the call button.

The realization that you were actually calling him hit you awake. Your body jolts up, scrambling to quickly end the call.

"...Hello?" Shit. He answered.

"Fuck, sorry," You held your head in your hands. "I didn't mean to call you at this hour. It was an accident, I swear-"

"It's fine." He bluntly answers and you pause.

"...okay, then uh, I'll end the c-" Before you can finish, he interrupts you - a characteristic of Sae's that you had grown accustomed to. "Why are you awake at this hour? Why does your voice sound weird?... Have you been crying, (Name)?" He was so blunt, so straightforward.

You could feel the suspicious glare Sae was giving you through the phone, even though his camera was off. The image of his face - teal eyes narrowing and scrutinizing your every word, eyebrows knitted together, and finger impatiently tapping any surface while waiting for an answer - painted itself in your head. Oddly enough, you giggled.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just- I vividly remember you interrogating me like this back when we were kids. You always used to bombard me with questions - giving me not even a single moment to answer, mind you." It had become a habit - being sarcastic and lightheartedly insulting each other. So, when talking with Sae again, it naturally came back to you.

"Ah... am I rambling?"

"Yes, you are," Sae didn't bother sugarcoating anything, "but don't stop. Continue."

You blink - you could be a little more selfish just for today, right?

"Could we... do it in person?" You could feel Sae frown when you suggested it. "I know, I know. Your flight is at 9 a.m. But, it doesn't matter to me where we hang out. Let's talk at the airport before you go."

The silence only diminishes your hope and you continue to persuade him before it's fully extinguished.

"Please, Sae. For old-time's sake. Can't we talk? Can't we catch up?" Your grip on your phone hardened, "Even if it's just 10 minutes, I don't care. I never got to finish what I said 4 years ago, I'm gonna finish it today."

You waited for what felt like hours for a response.

"Ok." The tension left your body, breathing a loud sigh of relief and you hop out of bed. "I'll see you at the airport?"

"No. I'm picking you up." It's like he already made the decision for you, and how could you ever say no to him? "Wear something warm, it's gonna rain today. I'll lend you my jacket if you get too cold."

"Sae." The sudden firmness in your voice stunned him... did he do something wrong? Was he too forward? All the shuffling from his side stopped as if time stopped with him when he paused to listen to you. "Thank you for this and...

I love you, I didn't get to say that the last time you left." You decide to be frank because there is no point acting shy and coy around someone like Sae. Beating around the bush would only waste time - you conclude - and at least you'd get to process the heartbreak if he does reject you. Or perhaps, you were just too impatient to wait anymore. 4 years was much too long for you.

The background noise began again from his side and you hear a sigh - relief that that was all and he hadn't accidentally screwed things up.

"I've known for a long time." He admits, clamping the phone between his raised shoulder and ear whilst he fishes out something he hopes you'd like to see him in - even though he himself was unsure what that would be.

"Really?" You ask back. You didn't doubt him, but it sounded like he had so much more to say.

"Yeah." His words trailed off into silence, a momentary pause for him to think. He's known that what he felt for you was more complex than anything he's encountered before, feelings bubbling in his chest and far beyond his own comprehension. Judging by the way you struggled to say it to him at first, he could tell you were going through the same hardships as him.

It was commendable that you pushed past your own cowardice to tell him something so tender. Your future and friendship weigh heavy on his shoulders, and the last thing he's going to do is break your heart. He didn't forget you, he couldn't have forgotten you - you were his childhood sweetheart after all.

"And... I love you too."

Taglist: @dewwberry

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

If anyone knows a thing or two about sex scenes, it’s Sam Heughan. Over the past decade, the 43-year-old Scottish star of Outlander, the cult-hit historical drama, has filmed hours of notoriously raunchy footage in his role as Jamie Fraser, the dashing 18th-­century Highland rebel, with his wife, Claire – a time-traveller from the 20th century, played by ­Caitríona Balfe.

Yet two years ago, Heughan, as one of the executive producers (with Balfe), introduced an intimacy co-ordinator to choreograph such scenes, which had been criticised by many as excessively violent.

“The industry’s completely changed since Outlander started,” Heughan says, sitting in a Soho bar on a visit to London from his home outside Glasgow. “Not just our show but also shows like Game of Thrones were very graphic, with no room for the imagination, in a way that’s quite jarring now. As young, keen actors, we were just expected to get naked and go at it. Caitríona and I formed a bond and trusted each other, but there were times when we were pushed too far.” He was especially troubled by a scene involving full-frontal nudity in ­season one, when Jamie was tortured and raped by his rival, Black Jack Randall (Tobias Menzies). “That really didn’t sit well.”

Everything changed following the MeToo scandal, leading ­Heughan to employ Vanessa Coffey to choreograph the sex scenes. “So now everyone knows what the boundaries are, like in a football or rugby match. It’s been so helpful and freeing, and it was because I didn’t want younger actors to go through what we’d gone through. Now, the scenes are sexually charged, but not gratuitous.”

Despite his heartthrob status, Heughan – who’s 6ft 2in, with the strapping physique his role necess­i­tates – is modest and thoughtful company. He also had Coffey enlisted to co-ordinate his latest pro­ject, Channel 4’s erotic thriller The Couple Next Door, filmed during the short break between Outlander’s seasons nine and 10, in which he plays Danny, a policeman living in a Leeds suburb in an open marriage with Becka (Jessica De Gouw).

“We didn’t want to make a salacious or seedy show about swingers,” Heughan says. “It’s about the psychology behind it – what is it to be in an open relationship where two characters love each other so much that they can invite people into that relationship? I think it’s possibly the greatest form of romance to allow your partner this, if it’s the itch they need to scratch. My character struggles with it.

The couple’s (initially) strait-laced neighbours are played by Alfred Enoch and Eleanor Tom­linson, who in 2019 finished five seasons as Demelza in Poldark. With Outlander about to start ­filming its final season, she and Heughan compared notes on moving on from a huge, long-running costume drama.

“It’s emotional. For me, the prospect’s hugely bittersweet. It feels like getting out of an institution. Outlander’s like a family, it literally defines who I am.” After all, Heughan has created an empire of Outlander spin-offs, including books, television travelogues and his spirits brand, The Sassenach – named after Jamie’s nickname for the English Claire – not to mention his charity, My Peak Challenge, which has raised nearly £5 million to fund a variety of causes, including ­hunger relief and blood-cancer research. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world,” he says.

Still, he felt now was the right time to wrap. “Outlander could have finished after the ninth season, but, personally, I felt we hadn’t quite got there. So now we have the problem of pushing the writers to do something that’s hopefully satisfying for the audience, but also exciting.” So Heughan doesn’t yet know how Outlander ends? “No idea, and it’s really tough because Diana [Gabaldon, the author on whose novels the series is based] has written so many books.”

The show has a vast international fanbase; VisitScotland has cited a 67 per cent rise in visits to the show’s locations, such as Culloden and Inverness. “I do feel like I’m an unofficial ambassador for Scotland, and sometimes I don’t think the show is given enough credit for what it’s done for Scottish tourism,” Heughan says. “I think the numbers are even bigger than they say, because reams of Americans are just making their own itineraries. Doune Castle’s numbers are up 800 per cent, it’s been completely renovated as a result.”

The show has also transformed the local film industry. “For 10 years, we’ve been employing ­people at over 200 Scottish locations, we’ve started an intern scheme, we’ve built a studio with five sound stages where there was nothing before. So it’s going to leave a legacy.”

The son of an artist single mother (his father walked out when he was a baby), Heughan spent his early childhood in the Borders, his teens in Edinburgh, before studying at Glasgow’s Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, where his mentor was third-year student James McAvoy.

Having worked in London and Los Angeles, Heughan fell back in love with Scotland when he was cast in Outlander. Initially against independence, filming the first ­season in the run-up to the 2016 ­referendum transformed him into a vocal advocate. “Scottish politics right now is a bit of a mess, which is a shame, but maybe they’ll find a new rallying cry. We’re a great wee country with amazing resources, most of which are controlled by the British. Similar small European countries have great identities.”

Initially, Heughan is hesitant to discuss the issue, aware taking either side will provoke a social-media backlash, but then he decides: “Why can’t actors have opi­n­ions? The problem is you have to come down on one side, there is no room for deb­ate. Everything has be­come so aggressive and then social-media algo­rithms mean you only get to see one side of the argument.”

He had his fingers burnt when last month he signed an open letter from Artists for Palestine UK, alongside the likes of Tilda Swinton and Steve Coogan, which accused the Government of “aiding and abetting” Israeli war crimes, but failed to condemn Hamas’s terrorism. The following day, Heughan rescinded, saying he hadn’t “fully understood” what he was signing.

“I was maybe naively calling for peace, which is what we all want, but, unfortunately, that situation is so complex, I can’t understand it all,” he says now. “As an actor, you have a platform, but if you put your thoughts out there, you upset ­people, but you’re also damned if you don’t say anything.”

Heughan’s taking time to navigate a potential post-Outlander career path. “I’m a workaholic, but I have to be discerning. Whatever I do next, I have to feel really passionate about.” Possible plans include directing and exploring a different side to Scotland than misty heather and bagpipes. “I think that underbelly you see in [Ian Rankin’s] Rebus and Irvine Welsh is very interesting, there are still pockets that are very hard and gritty.”

Back in 2005, he auditioned for James Bond in Casino Royale – the role that eventually went to Daniel Craig. Now, there’s a new vacancy. “I’ll throw my hat in the ring,” he says, grinning. “I’d be a brilliant Bond, I’m good at action and I’d bring a lot of ­emotional intelligence.”

There might even be space for a personal life. Heughan’s mystified by “facts” he reads about his private life online. “There’s so much ­nonsense that’s completely false – apparently, I have a daughter. News to me!” he says, flushing. The truth, he says, is that Outlander leaves no time for relationships.

“It’s insane hours and takes over everything. Caitríona’s carved out a beautiful family for herself that she protects very well, but I’ve seen how hard it is for her to do that. I want a cat, but I’m too scared even for that, how would I look after it? One day, maybe,” Heughan says, dreamily.

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