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niallerspayno · 5 months ago

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About Last Night (Louis Tomlinson x reader) - Fic Request

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Anonymous request: Hi!! I was wondering if you could do Louis Tomlinson x fem! Reader who is in the band, her and Louis always had a flirty relationship but always told people it was a joke until one night during one of their tours things get heated between them and they hook up, a few weeks later reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Louis so she goes to her best friend Niall Horan for advice and Louis ends up over hearing them? Smut and fluff please!!

Tags: Louis x reader, friends to lovers, smut, pregnancy, fluff, angst

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

…

The arena hums softly with the buzz of amps and muffled conversations, but your focus is already on Louis, who stands near the drum kit, spinning a drumstick between his fingers with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. This is how it’s always been with the two of you—partners in chaos, constantly toeing the line of what you can get away with, but never crossing it. The harmless flirting, the relentless teasing—it’s your thing.

“Don’t even think about it,” you call out, a grin tugging at your lips.

Louis turns to you, all innocence and dimples. “Think about what, love?”

“Oh, you know exactly what,” you say, stepping closer. “Put the stick down before you get us all in trouble.”

“Trouble?” he echoes, mock-offended. “I am the very definition of responsibility.”

“You’re the definition of a menace,” you retort, grabbing the other drumstick off the snare. You twirl it between your fingers and smirk at him. “If you’re going to cause chaos, at least make it entertaining.”

His eyes light up at your challenge. “I knew I could count on you, partner.”

Before anyone can stop you, Louis taps the microphone stand with his drumstick, and you follow suit, matching his rhythm with the snare drum. The resulting cacophony blares through the speakers, earning a collective groan from Liam and the sound crew.

“Really?!” Liam barks from center stage, throwing his hands up. “Do you two have to do this every time?”

“Yes,” you and Louis say in unison, both grinning like kids caught raiding the cookie jar.

“Unbelievable,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh, lighten up, Payno,” Louis says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re just making things more fun.”

“Fun is subjective,” Liam replies, deadpan.

Louis doesn’t even acknowledge him, already pulling you toward the piano at the corner of the stage. “Come on, let’s give them a real show.”

You follow without hesitation, laughing as you plop down on the bench beside him. “Alright, Mozart, let’s hear it.”

“Watch and learn, darling,” he says, cracking his knuckles dramatically before slamming his fingers onto the keys.

The result is an aggressively off-key rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and you immediately burst into laughter, doubling over as he continues his “masterpiece.”

“Wow,” you say between giggles, clapping along. “Move over, Beethoven. Louis Tomlinson has arrived.”

“I know,” he says smugly, tossing you a wink. “Don’t be jealous of my talent.”

“Talent?” you tease, leaning closer. “This is more like a crime against music.”

“Oh, you wound me,” he says, clutching his chest in mock pain. “But I’ll forgive you because you look cute when you’re pretending to be unimpressed.”

You arch an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to close the space between you. “Who says I’m pretending?”

He falters for a split second, just enough for you to notice, before recovering with a smirk. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but the playful tone in your voice makes it clear you’re enjoying every second.

The moment lingers, his eyes locked on yours, the air between you buzzing with unspoken tension. But before anything can happen, Liam’s voice cuts through like a bucket of cold water.

“Enough!” he shouts. “Can we please get back to work?”

Louis groans dramatically, standing up and offering you a hand. “Fine, Payno. We’ll behave. For now.”

“Behaving’s overrated anyway,” you say, letting him pull you to your feet.

He grins, leaning in just enough to make your heart race. “Spoken like a true partner in crime.”

You smirk back, the flush creeping up your neck impossible to hide. “You couldn’t handle this partnership without me.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, before finally letting you go.

As you return to your spot on stage, his laughter still ringing in your ears, you can’t help but feel the familiar thrill that comes with being Louis’s partner in crime. This is just how it’s always been—safe, playful, and light. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

…

The club is alive with pulsing music, flashing lights, and the hum of conversation. The six of you—plus a few crew members—have commandeered a booth near the dance floor, a place to regroup between rounds of drinks and bursts of reckless fun. The night is supposed to be lighthearted, a rare break in the chaos of touring. But your attention keeps drifting toward the bar, where Louis leans casually against the counter, chatting up a pair of girls who can’t stop giggling at whatever he’s saying.

You take another sip of your drink, the sharp burn of tequila doing little to distract you. It shouldn’t bother you. This is Louis, after all—flirty, charming, and always ready to make someone’s night with a cheeky grin. It’s harmless. Always harmless. Just like it’s always been with you and him.

But tonight, it stings.

“You alright there, love?”

Niall’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to find him sliding into the booth beside you, a fresh pint in hand. His blue eyes are sharper than they should be after three rounds, catching onto your mood immediately.

“Fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just enjoying the view.”

Niall snorts, following your gaze toward Louis. “Ah. Him.”

“Him what?” you ask, though your tone is defensive even to your own ears.

“You’re watching him like he owes you money,” Niall says, smirking, but his voice softens when he adds, “What’s going on?”

You hesitate, swirling your drink in your hand. Niall’s always been the one you confide in, the one who listens without judgment. But this—whatever this is—feels like dangerous territory.

“It’s nothing,” you lie.

“Sure it is,” he says, leaning closer. “Come on. You’re never this quiet.”

You glance at Louis again, just in time to see him lean in to whisper something in one of the girls’ ears. Your chest tightens, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“It’s stupid,” you say, setting your glass down with more force than necessary. “I just… I don’t get how he can be like that. Flirting with everyone, acting like it’s all a game.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “That’s just Louis, though. You know that.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, staring at the condensation on your glass. “But sometimes I wonder if it’s ever not a game for him. If he ever actually means it.”

Niall doesn’t answer right away, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Finally, he says, “And what if he does? Would that change things?”

You laugh, though it’s bitter and hollow. “Not for him. He’d still be Louis, and I’d still be the idiot who gets worked up over it.”

“Hey,” Niall says gently, nudging your shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. You care about him. That’s not stupid.”

You look at him, startled by how easily he’s put words to something you’ve been trying to deny. “I didn’t say I care about him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His voice is kind, but it hits you like a punch to the gut. You reach for your drink again, draining the rest of it in one go.

“Okay,” you say, standing up abruptly. “I need another one.”

“Hang on,” Niall says, grabbing your wrist before you can escape. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re already—”

“Drinking?” you interrupt, flashing him a wry smile. “Yeah, I know. That’s kind of the point.”

Niall lets you go, watching as you make your way to the bar. You don’t look at Louis as you order another round, but you can feel his presence—his laughter, his charm—like a static charge in the air.

When you return to the booth, Niall’s still waiting, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell him, you know,” he says quietly.

“Tell him what?”

“Whatever it is you’re feeling. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

You sit down, your drink clutched tightly in your hands. “What if I never am?”

Niall shrugs, his usual easygoing demeanor softening. “Then that’s okay, too. But just… don’t beat yourself up over it, alright? He’s an idiot, but he’d be even more of one not to see how great you are.”

You manage a small smile, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade. Across the room, Louis throws his head back in laughter, and you drain your drink, trying not to think about what it would mean if Niall was right.

...

You’re halfway through your drink, the alcohol starting to make the room blur at the edges, when you feel someone slide into the booth beside you. It’s not Niall this time—he’s gone to the bar for another round.

“Having fun, partner?”

You don’t need to look to know it’s Louis. His voice, low and warm, cuts through the haze like a match striking in the dark.

“Loads,” you reply, your tone sharper than you intended. You focus on your glass, not him.

There’s a pause, and then he leans closer, so close you can feel the heat of him against your arm. “What’s got you in a mood, then?”

You scoff, finally turning to meet his gaze. “Why would I be in a mood?”

Louis’s brow furrows, and he studies you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Dunno. That’s why I’m asking.”

You shrug, trying to brush him off. “It’s nothing. Go back to your fans.”

Realization dawns in his expression, and his lips curve into a small smirk. “Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He tilts his head toward the bar, where the girls he’d been chatting with have moved on. “They’re just fans, love. Took a couple photos, had a laugh. That’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quickly, taking another sip of your drink.

“Clearly, it does,” he counters, his voice dipping lower.

You glance at him, and the teasing edge in his expression is gone, replaced by something quieter. More serious. It makes your stomach flip, and you hate how easily he gets under your skin.

“I just don’t get how you can do it,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Turn it on and off like it’s nothing.”

Louis stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours. Then he leans back slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You think it’s nothing?”

You don’t answer, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I just… I don’t know. It’s easier sometimes to keep it light, you know? Keeps people from expecting too much.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and you look away, focusing on the dance floor instead. It feels safer than looking at him when he’s being like this—honest and raw in a way that catches you off guard.

Louis follows your gaze, then nudges you with his shoulder. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Dance with me.”

You blink at him. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says, standing up and holding a hand out to you. “Unless you’re scared you can’t keep up.”

It’s a challenge, one you’d normally accept without hesitation. But tonight, there’s something heavier in the air between you, something that makes you hesitate.

“Louis…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Just one dance, love. For old time’s sake.”

You sigh, finishing the last of your drink before placing your hand in his. His grip is warm and steady as he pulls you to your feet, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music is loud and fast, but Louis doesn’t seem to care. He spins you around dramatically, earning a laugh despite yourself, and when he pulls you close, his grin is infectious.

“There she is,” he says, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, though you’re not sure it’s true.

“No?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are just inches from your ear. “Then what are you?”

The question lingers, hanging between you as the beat of the music thrums in your chest. You glance up at him, your breath catching at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your fingers tighten around his, and you let him pull you closer.

The music is deafening, the bass vibrating through your chest as Louis pulls you closer. The heat of the crowd presses in around you—sweaty bodies moving together in time with the pulsing beat—but all you can feel is him. His hand rests lightly on your waist, fingers brushing against the bare skin where your top has ridden up, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

You match his rhythm, your bodies swaying together as the lights flash and the room spins in a blur of color and sound. He leans down, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs something you can’t hear over the music. But it doesn’t matter, because the low rasp of his voice alone makes your pulse race.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, then slide down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire club has faded away.

He’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before, like he’s trying to memorize every detail. And you can’t look away.

“Louis,” you manage to say, but your voice is swallowed by the music.

He doesn’t answer, just pulls you even closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His hand tightens on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin, and it’s almost too much.

The air between you is charged, thick with something you can’t quite name but can’t ignore either. And when his lips brush against your temple—soft, almost tentative—it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your resolve snaps.

Without thinking, you grab his hand and tug him toward the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until you find a dark hallway leading toward the bathrooms.

“Here?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless as you pull him into the dimly lit space.

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” you reply, your back pressing against the wall as he steps closer, crowding into your space.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands are on your hips in an instant, his lips crashing against yours with a force that makes your head spin. It’s all heat and desperation, months of tension unraveling in a single, searing kiss.

You fist your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans softly against your lips. The sound sends a thrill through you, and you arch into him, gasping when his mouth moves to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your throat, his voice low and strained.

But stopping is the last thing on your mind. “Don’t,” you whisper.

The noise of the club fades into a dull throb, your pulse pounding in your ears as Louis pulls you deeper into the hallway. His grip is unrelenting, his hand firm around your wrist as he guides you toward the dimly lit bathroom, the air thick with the sharp scent of alcohol and sweat. When you step inside, he doesn’t hesitate. He closes the door behind you with a soft thud, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already pulling you toward him, his hands sliding to the curve of your waist.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice low, gravelly, as he looks you over. His eyes darken with something primal, raw. "I need you."

The way he says it—like there’s no choice in the matter, like he’s been waiting for this—makes your stomach flutter with anticipation. Your heart races as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His body presses flush against yours, the heat radiating off of him like a furnace.

You’re suddenly aware of everything—his breath against your skin, the brush of his chest against yours, the sensation of his hands sliding down to grip your thighs as he carries you toward one of the stalls. The door bangs against the wall as he kicks it open with a force that leaves you breathless. You barely register it, too caught up in the way he’s looking at you—so intensely, so urgently—that it’s like the entire world outside has ceased to exist.

Louis doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. He presses you back against the door, and the sharp click of the lock echoes in the small space. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, deliberately, until the cool air hits your skin. The contrast of the cold on your warm body makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of him against you.

"God, you're perfect," he mutters under his breath, his eyes raking over you like he can’t quite believe you’re here. His mouth finds the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes your pulse spike. He’s everywhere at once—his lips, his hands, his body—leaving no space between the two of you.

His lips trail lower, his breath hot as it brushes against your collarbone, and you can’t help but shiver, arching into him as his hands slip lower, tracing the curve of your waist and hips. “Louis,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“You want this,” he says, his voice rough with hunger as he presses his body into yours. His hands slide under your skirt, gripping your thighs, his thumbs brushing the inside of your legs. The sensation sends a shock of desire through you, and you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

You’re both moving instinctively now—his body surging into yours, your hands tearing at his jeans, pushing them down just enough so you can feel the hard line of him pressing into you. You’re both breathless, desperate, as your bodies start moving together, finding a rhythm born from nothing but pure need.

The heat between you is overwhelming, suffocating. You can feel every inch of him against you, your bodies grinding together with a desperation that feels like it's been building for weeks, months even. His lips find yours again, more forcefully this time, his tongue slipping between your lips as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his body.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans against your mouth, his hands moving to the zipper of your skirt, tugging it down, leaving you exposed to him in the dim light.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, but the shock of it only fuels the fire between you. You push him back slightly, giving yourself enough room to pull off your panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. His eyes darken at the sight, and he groans again, his hands trembling slightly as they slide down your body.

“God, you’re killing me,” he mutters as he presses his body into yours again, the door rattling against the force of it. His lips trail down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth.

“You want me?” he asks, his voice low, dangerous, as his hands slide between your bodies, his fingers brushing against you, making you gasp.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, I need you.”

And just like that, he’s pulling you closer, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he positions himself against you. The first thrust is slow, deliberate, but it doesn’t take long for the urgency to take over, for both of you to lose control.

Your bodies move together with a frantic rhythm, the pressure building, tightening, until you feel like you’re going to explode. The sensation is overwhelming, dizzying, and you cling to him, feeling his hands grip your skin like he’s afraid to let go. His breath comes in ragged gasps against your ear as he buries his face in your neck, his body pressing into yours with every thrust.

The world outside the stall is forgotten—there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rhythm of your bodies, the urgent need to feel more.

When it happens, it’s all at once—the sharp pull of release, the sensation of your body shuddering as he groans your name, the feeling of him inside you. You lose yourself in him completely, and for a moment, the entire world falls away, leaving nothing but the raw, pulsing connection between the two of you.

For a long time, neither of you speaks. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you stand there, still tangled together in the small, dimly lit stall. The air is thick, heavy with the aftermath, and the sound of the club’s music feels distant now, like it belongs to someone else’s world.

Louis rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your hips as if he’s afraid to let you go. His breathing slows, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice soft, the intensity from moments ago replaced with something else. Something almost tender.

You nod, your hands tracing the lines of his back, still feeling the echo of his touch. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m more than okay.”

And for a brief, fleeting moment, it feels like everything has shifted.

...

The morning light seeps through the curtains, casting pale slivers across the room, and you wake with a pounding headache that has everything to do with last night. As you sit up, stretching stiff muscles, your fingers graze your neck, and you freeze.

You already know what you’ll find. Your stomach flips as you rush to the mirror, pulling your hair away to reveal dark, circular marks. Hickeys. Louis’s hickeys.

Heat floods your face as the memories from last night rush back—his hands on your body, the rasp of his voice in your ear, the way he kissed you like he was starving for it. A shiver runs through you, not from regret, but from how damn good it all was.

Still, the marks are a problem. You grab your makeup bag and get to work, layering concealer and powder until they’re faint enough to be hidden by your hair. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. You can’t let the others see. You can’t let anyone see.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s a message from Louis: "You good?"

Your heart hammers as you type back: "We need to talk."

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on his door. When it swings open, Louis is there—hair tousled, barefoot, still half-asleep, but the way he looks at you makes it clear he knows why you’re here.

“Hey,” you say, stepping inside. Your voice feels thin, unsure, but you force yourself to keep going. “About last night...”

Louis closes the door behind you and leans against it, crossing his arms. “Yeah,” he says slowly, watching you with that sharp, unreadable gaze of his.

“I woke up with... these,” you continue, gesturing toward your neck. His eyes follow the motion, a smirk twitching at his lips as he realizes what you’re talking about.

“Didn’t think I went that hard,” he teases, but there’s something softer underneath his usual playfulness. “Sorry about that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers brushing over the covered marks. “It’s fine. I covered them up, but, Louis... no one can know about this. The others would never let us live it down.”

Louis straightens, the smirk slipping into something more serious. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably best if we keep it between us.”

The weight of that decision settles over the room, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, Louis lets out a low laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, for what it’s worth... it was a really fucking good time.”

Your breath catches, your heart flipping at the sincerity in his tone. A small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah,” you admit softly, meeting his gaze. “It really was.”

The tension in the room shifts—heavier, but warmer. There’s something unspoken between you, something lingering from last night, but you force yourself to push it aside.

“But it was... a one-time thing,” you say, your voice firmer now. “We were drunk, caught up in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

Louis hesitates, his jaw tightening ever so slightly before he nods. “Right,” he agrees, though his voice doesn’t carry the same conviction. “Just a one-time thing. We go back to normal. Friends. Bandmates. No weirdness.”

You nod, the words hanging heavy in the air. “Alright,” you say, standing and smoothing your shirt. “I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

Louis follows you to the door, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Yeah,” he says softly. “See you there.”

You step out into the hallway, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between you. The memory of last night burns in your mind, and as much as you tell yourself it was a mistake, a small, stubborn part of you knows it wasn’t.

And as you walk away, you know the secret you’re both keeping won’t be the hardest part. The hardest part will be pretending that you don’t want more.

...

The hotel bathroom feels impossibly small, its tiled walls closing in on you as you stare down at the pregnancy test in your trembling hands. The instructions are simple, straightforward, but they feel like a foreign language as you reread them for the third time.

Niall is waiting just outside, sitting on the edge of your hotel bed. You hadn’t planned to involve him this much, but when you decided to sneak out and buy the test earlier, he’d been the one person you trusted enough to call. Now, as the reality of what you’re about to do looms over you, you’re beyond grateful he’s here.

“Everything okay in there?” Niall’s voice drifts through the door, steady and calm.

“Yeah,” you call back, though your voice wavers. “I’m doing it now.”

“Take your time,” he replies, his tone gentle.

You follow the instructions mechanically, your heart pounding louder with every step. When it’s done, you set the test on the counter, face down, and set the timer on your phone. For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the edge of the sink to steady yourself.

When the timer buzzes, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the test.

“You good?” Niall asks from the other side of the door, the concern in his voice unmistakable.

You take a deep breath and pick up the test. The result is instant.

Pregnant.

The air rushes out of your lungs, and you open the bathroom door without even thinking. Niall is on his feet in an instant, his eyes scanning your face.

“What does it say?” he asks, his voice soft but urgent.

You hold up the test, your hand shaking. “It’s positive,” you whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Niall just stares, processing the words. Then, he crosses the room in two quick steps and pulls you into a hug. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

You cling to him, tears spilling over as the weight of the situation crashes down on you. After a moment, he pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he studies your face.

“Do you… know who the father is?” he asks carefully.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “It’s Louis.”

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth falls open slightly. “Louis?”

You laugh, a short, incredulous sound that bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Yeah. It was that night we all went out to the bar.”

Realization dawns in his eyes, and he stares at you like he’s trying to piece it together. “Wait—so… the bathroom stall?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Yes, the bathroom stall,” you say, your voice muffled.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, to your surprise, Niall starts to laugh—a low chuckle that quickly turns into full-on laughter. It’s contagious, and soon you’re laughing too, tears streaming down your face as the absurdity of it all sinks in.

“I can’t believe I’m having a baby that was conceived in a bathroom stall,” you manage to choke out, shaking your head.

Niall grins, his laughter fading into a warm smile. “Hey, at least you’ll have a good story for the kid someday.”

You snort, wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over great.”

As the laughter subsides, Niall’s expression grows serious again. “You're going to have to tell Louis.”

You shake your head, the weight of that reality settling over you. “Not yet. I don’t even know how to tell him.”

Niall squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here, alright? Whatever you need.”

His support steadies you, and you nod, a small spark of determination flickering to life. “Thanks, Niall,” you say softly.

He smiles, giving your shoulder a final squeeze. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

...

The hotel dining room buzzes with the usual morning energy: clinking cutlery, muted conversation, and the aroma of coffee filling the air. You sit with the boys, doing your best to seem normal as you pick at a piece of toast. The nausea has become a constant companion, and exhaustion drags at you more with each passing day.

“Still not feeling well?” Liam asks, glancing at your plate with a worried frown.

You force a smile. “It’s just a bug. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Zayn points out, his tone sharper than Liam’s, though there’s concern in his dark eyes.

Harry leans back in his chair, studying you closely. “You need to see a doctor. You’re barely eating, and you look knackered.”

“Thanks, Harry,” you say dryly, hoping humor will deflect their growing concern.

Louis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout breakfast, lifts his coffee cup to his lips but says nothing. His eyes linger on you, though, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist again, grabbing your mug and taking a sip even though the coffee turns your stomach. “Just need some rest.”

The boys don’t look convinced, but they eventually let it drop as the conversation shifts to tour logistics. When breakfast wraps up, everyone begins dispersing to their rooms.

As you step into the hallway, Niall gently catches your arm. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?”

“Sure,” you say, letting him steer you toward a quieter section of the corridor.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Louis lingers just out of sight around the corner, pretending to check his phone.

Niall keeps his voice low as he speaks. “How are you holding up? Really.”

You glance around nervously, making sure no one is nearby. “I’m okay,” you lie, though your voice wavers. “Just... trying to figure things out.”

He frowns, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got to stop pushing yourself so hard. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

“I know,” you whisper, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just... it’s a lot, Niall.”

“Have you thought more about telling Louis?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart sinks. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit. “How do I tell him that I’m pregnant and it’s his baby? That it happened in a bloody bathroom stall?”

Niall snorts, though his expression quickly turns serious again. “You’re going to have to tell him eventually. He deserves to know, and you deserve to have his support.”

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just… I’m scared, Niall. What if he freaks out? What if it changes everything between us?”

“He might freak out,” Niall says honestly. “But he’s Louis. He’ll step up. You’ve got to trust him—and yourself.”

Neither of you notice the shadow around the corner or the way Louis freezes in place, his breath catching as he processes what he just overheard.

“I’ll tell him,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “I just need to figure out how.”

Niall nods, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got your back.”

You manage a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Niall. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the two of you part ways, Louis remains rooted to his spot, his mind racing. He had only stopped to grab his jacket, not to eavesdrop—but now, he can’t unhear what’s just been revealed.

Pregnant. His baby.

The words loop in his mind, crashing over him in waves of shock and disbelief. He grips the wall for support, his heart pounding as he tries to process what this means—for you, for him, for everything.

...

The hotel suite is unusually quiet, the remnants of breakfast scattered across the coffee table as the boys lounge around. You’re absent, having slipped away earlier, and the rest of the group assumes you’re just taking some much-needed time to yourself.

Louis, however, can’t sit still. He paces the room, his jaw tight and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, but one thing is clear: he needs answers.

Niall, sitting on the armrest of a couch, notices the tension radiating off Louis. “Mate, you alright?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

That’s all it takes for Louis to stop pacing and whirl around to face him. “No, Niall, I’m not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharp enough to make everyone else in the room sit up straighter.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks, frowning.

Louis ignores him, his blue eyes locked on Niall. “How long were you planning on keeping it from me?” he demands, his voice rising.

“Keeping what from you?” Niall replies carefully, though his face pales slightly.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Louis shouts, taking a step closer. “I know. I heard you talking to her this morning.”

The room falls into stunned silence, and Zayn and Harry exchange wide-eyed looks.

“What are you talking about?” Harry finally asks, his tone laced with confusion.

Louis doesn’t even glance at him. His focus is still entirely on Niall. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she? And it’s mine.”

Niall’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out. The rest of the boys look utterly shell-shocked, their eyes darting between Louis and Niall.

“Is it true?” Liam asks, his voice quieter now, though no less serious.

Niall lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t my place to tell you, Louis,” he says, his voice firm despite the guilt flickering in his eyes. “She needed time to figure out how to say it herself.”

Louis’s laugh is bitter, almost disbelieving. “Time? You don’t think I deserved to know right away? That I deserved to hear it from her—or at least someone—before overhearing you whispering about it in a bloody hallway?”

“I was just trying to be there for her,” Niall says defensively, standing now to meet Louis’s glare. “She’s scared out of her mind, Louis. This isn’t easy for her.”

“You think this is easy for me?” Louis shoots back, his voice cracking slightly. “Finding out I’m going to be a dad like this?”

The words hang in the air, heavy and raw.

Zayn leans forward, his brow furrowed. “Wait. Are you saying Y/N’s pregnant, and it’s yours?”

“Yes,” Louis snaps, throwing his arms out in frustration. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Harry sits back, his jaw slack as he processes the revelation. “Bloody hell.”

“Look, I get that you’re upset,” Niall says, his tone softer now. “But she needed time to figure things out. I was just trying to support her until she was ready to talk to you.”

“She should’ve come to me,” Louis mutters, his anger ebbing slightly but still palpable. “I deserved to know.”

“And she knows that,” Niall replies. “But she’s been scared, Louis. She didn’t want to mess everything up. She didn’t know how you’d react.”

Louis takes a deep breath, his hands raking through his hair as he processes Niall’s words. “I don’t know how to react,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “This is... massive.”

“It is,” Liam says, speaking up for the first time since the confrontation started. “But it’s not something you have to figure out alone. We’re all here for both of you.”

Louis looks around the room, his frustration slowly giving way to uncertainty. “I need to talk to her,” he says finally, more to himself than anyone else.

“Then do that,” Niall says gently. “But give her some grace, mate. She’s dealing with a lot.”

Louis nods, his expression still tense but less combative. Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving the rest of the boys in stunned silence.

...

You’re standing at the sink in your hotel bathroom, clutching the edge of the counter to steady yourself as another wave of nausea passes. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly, adding to the headache pounding at your temples.

Splashing cold water on your face, you glance at your reflection, pale and drawn. You’d thought you could keep things under control, at least for a little while longer. But the toll on your body is becoming harder and harder to hide.

A knock at the bathroom door startles you. Before you can answer, Louis’s voice cuts through.

“Y/N, it’s me. Open up.”

Your stomach twists for an entirely different reason now. His tone is firm, no trace of his usual teasing lilt. You grab a towel to pat your face dry, stalling for time.

“I’m fine, Louis,” you call back, trying to sound normal.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, and you can hear the resolve in his voice. “We need to talk.”

With a resigned sigh, you open the door. Louis is standing there, arms crossed and a look of determination on his face. The blue of his eyes is intense, searching yours for answers you’re not ready to give.

“Can we do this later?” you ask weakly.

“No,” he says, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I know.”

Your breath catches. “You know what?”

“I know you’re pregnant,” he says, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “And I know it’s mine.”

The air feels sucked out of the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“How—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I heard you and Niall talking this morning,” he admits. “I wasn’t eavesdropping—it just happened. And now I need to hear it from you. Is it true?”

You look down at your feet, your hands trembling. “Yes,” you whisper.

Louis exhales sharply, leaning back against the door as he runs a hand through his hair. “How long have you known?”

“About a week,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I took a test. Niall’s the only one I told.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly. “Why did I have to find out like this?”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you sink onto the closed toilet lid. “I didn’t know how to, Louis,” you confess. “It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up. And I didn’t know how you’d react. I was scared.”

“Scared of me?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“No,” you say quickly. “Not of you. Just... of everything. What this means for us, for the band. I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

Louis crouches down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture makes your chest tighten.

“You’re not ruining anything,” he says softly, his voice steadier now. “But you can’t shut me out of this. I deserve to know what’s going on, Y/N. This is my baby too.”

The weight of his words hits you, and you nod, wiping at your eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Louis. I was just... trying to figure it all out.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he says, his hands squeezing your knees gently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

You look up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “We might not have planned this, but it’s happening. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in days, a flicker of hope sparks in your chest. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Louis stands, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of this bathroom. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And for the first time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to face this alone.

Louis doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you out of the bathroom, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. He stays standing for a moment, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he finally sits beside you, he turns to face you fully, his expression serious but gentle.

“I know this probably feels overwhelming,” he starts, his voice softer now. “But I need you to know something. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”

Tears prick your eyes again, and you bite your lip, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “Louis, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts firmly. “This isn’t about what I have to do. This is my baby, and you... you’re everything to me.”

Your breath catches, and you stare at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”

He exhales deeply, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “I mean I’ve been in love with you for ages, Y/N. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it.”

“Louis...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a trace of vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s true. I’ve hidden behind all the jokes and the flirting because I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. I thought if I said something, I’d ruin what we have. And then that night at the club happened, and I thought maybe... but you said it was a mistake, and I didn’t want to push.”

You shake your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It wasn’t a mistake,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I only said that because I was scared. Scared of ruining what we have, just like you were. But I’ve been in love with you too, Louis. For so long.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks utterly stunned. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. “I mean it.”

He lets out a soft, incredulous laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “All this time, we’ve been dancing around each other like idiots.”

You laugh too, though it’s choked with emotion. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, letting the weight of the truth settle between you. Then Louis’s grin turns mischievous, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Can you believe our kid’s going to have the most ridiculous conception story ever?” he says, his voice teasing.

You can’t help but laugh, the tension breaking slightly. “Conceived in a bathroom stall at a nightclub,” you say, shaking your head. “That’s not exactly the romantic story you tell at family gatherings.”

Louis chuckles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “No, but it’s our story,” he says, his tone softening again. “And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

The warmth in his gaze makes your heart swell, and before you can overthink it, you lean in. Louis meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the heated, impulsive one from that night. This one is slow, deliberate, and full of everything you’ve both been holding back.

When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face. “I’m all in, Y/N,” he says quietly. “For you, for this baby. For everything.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but this time it’s one of relief, not fear. “Me too,” you whisper.

The two of you sit there in the quiet, holding each other as the enormity of the moment settles in. For the first time in weeks, you feel like everything might just be okay.

...

Part 2

#louis tomlinson x pregnant reader #louis tomlinson x y/n #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis x reader #louis tomlinson x you #one direction fanfiction

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whirlybirbs · 9 months ago

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About "Bruised Ego"

If I may ask how long has Toshinori been attracted to Derecho? Has it been one of those "for a villain, i'd tap that." Or more of a developed after the rehab? Has there been moments of where they go out to eat and Derecho or All Might get hit on leading to the other person to get a little jealous.

But honestly amazing writing as always, I've been following since the ben solo days and still go back to read them every now and then!!

it's complicated.

truthfully, pre-villain rehab derecho is dangerous.

you're some old money, long standing yakuza's prized guard dog, constantly amped up on quirk enhancers — a drug i personally consider the biggest, baddest stimulant crossed with an immediate performance enhancer. it's essentially like feeding you a live wire.

all might's agency has a task force dedicated to arresting derecho — or, well you. before you had a hero name. before you were anything short of a frenzied, violent enforcer on a short leash. back when you were a grinning mugshot and an extensive rap sheet.

you were different, then.

toshinori knows it's the drugs — he knows that's how you came close to nearly killing him that one night. it's how he learned not to go toe-to-toe with you in the rain. water is a conductor and all that.

you are beautiful — and you were back then, too. scarier. tougher. less of a light in your eyes and more of a blood thirst that earned you title of most wanted. it's almost like a knife's edge. get too close and you'll get cut.

toshinori likes strong women. strong men, too.

but back then, he hated you.

there was a sliver of him that knew you were a victim of your circumstances — but all the playful rivalry went out the window that night in april when your fists cracked across his face in the pouring rain and you swore you'd kill him and everyone he ever loved.

I LOVE MAKING YOU BLEED.

it's the night you almost flatlined back in that disgusting, cold yakuza safe-house. it's a wake-up call. you flew too close to the sun. one breath away from an overdose you wouldn't come back from.

he arrests you the next time you go head to head, after a botched robbery downtown. you... you just can't keep doing it anymore.

it's that image that winds up on the front page of every newspaper in japan — the one with your chest slammed down against the hood of a detectives car, your legs spread, and all might gripping the cuffs behind your back to tightly you had bruises for weeks.

they muzzle you.

it's... poetic, really.

truth be told, prison is the best thing that ever happens to you.

the villain rehab program is second.

it takes toshinori a long time to agree — with a lot of bargaining and parol restrictions placed on your head. but the hero commission are different sort of vile ilk. the kind you don't argue with.

it takes toshinori a long time to even loosen up around you, too. truth be told, he regrets to admit he was convinced you would end up back behind bars — this time in tartarus.

you're irritable, short-tempered, violent, and often times cruel.

but you're smart. and, despite your circumstances, you do have a good heart. slowly, toshinori can see the fear melt away and you're less like a cornered dog snapping its jaw.

you take praise well. you enjoy routine. you begin to attend those meetings gran torino recommended — after all, it's not just villains who struggle with quirk enhancer addiction. there are plenty of heroes who have wandered down that path, seeking greatness at the cost of their sobriety.

it's slow. a new sort of dangerous. over time, you become enmeshed in his life in a different way than years ago. now, it's through text typos and late night patrols. it's you letting toshinori hitch a ride on the back of your yamaha ninja. it's comfortable silence in the agency's infirmary after a long mission.

and when you smile. well, shit.

yea, he's always liked strong women.

and you're dangerous.

— a reference to this fic here ;

#this is all to say these two would have the most intense hatefuck ever if it came down to it #like i cannot stress enough how much they wanted to kill one another #to the point that gran torino has to step in and be like 'kid wtf'#it's a lil obsessive y'know. like.... derecho gets away time and time again #kinda like superhero blue balls #bruised ego #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #mha imagine #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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howlingday · 2 months ago

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Alright time to send in the golden retriever because I've been hating... Though I am worried I missed the mark here in terms of jaune's character

Here it is.

Jaune Dimitrius Arc

Age: 17-19 before time jumping to 39

Sex: male

Aura color: Sapphire blue

Semblance: “Aura synchronization”. Jaune has the ability to mimic other people's auras as well as his own aura into objects. This allows him to flow his own aura into other people by mimicking their aura and unknowingly opening a metaphorical gate that lies between people's auras, allowing his to flow in and refill his allies aura reserves, however there is a unique effect found here, Jaune when he is much older can track people by the trace amounts of aura they leave as well as even mimic people's semblances.. to a lesser degree (such as being able to mimic Ruby's semblance but only being able to go at ⅔rds of the speed of mach 1, still fast but slower than Ruby) however as expected, the flowing of his own aura into others and mimicking others semblances leaves his aura almost depleted, it would hit 0 if it wasn't for his pool of aura that he has in reserve.

Weapon: crocea mors (a family heirloom, said to have been taken from the king of vale by his trusted advisor who would later betray him. Crocea mors while originally the sword later gained the shield.. however it is extremely simple and outdated by modern weaponry.)

Background: Jaune.. is a coward, at least that's how he view himself compared to his family, while the arc family isn't world famous, it is still a family of renowned In Mistral.. however for Jaune that legacy made it.. it made it difficult to be proud of his own achievements. Jaune could not fight, and originally he was going to continue the new family business of being a chef and running the family owned restaurant in mistral- which explains his talent in the kitchen- however Jaune felt, hollow. He loved cooking and he wanted to live up to his family but to him, he didn't exactly find his purpose in cooking, so he decided to be a huntsmen.. however he never went to combat school, he knew the basics, weaponry, the grim variants and their tactics, he even knew a little bit about aura, but knowing was different from acting. And Jaune could not act like a huntsmen, but he did know one thing, how enrollment transcripts work. he learned how to fake transcripts, so he faked his, but they were extremely poor in how they were made and if it wasn't for the headmaster of beacon deciding to take a gamble, jaune would have been caught, turned away, and never allowed in an academy ever again. So now here he is, on his way to Beacon after stealing his family heirloom… however his fate while starting out as very unheroic and outright illegal, will lead him to many choices, he will meet the one person who he considers a best friend, he will meet a woman who pushed him on the right path, but eventually his story will end with him at peace, as he finally earns the title of huntsmen.

This is the occasion I worry I made him powerful, because if anyone knows me, they know I have a very prominent distain for Jaune being overpowered (LET THE BOY BE WEAK! PLEASE ;-;)

..also hot take but jaune should have stayed hot old and had his character story end in the ever after because I think it's fitting he ends on a bittersweet note of finally being a hero and I really want more angst for Ruby Because she's losing a close friend- ok byyyyyyeeeeee

Oh boy, here I go reviewing again~! Be warned that, as a Jaune fan, I will be keeping a close eye on what's written here. So you can rest assured that I will find something.

Ooh... I like that semblance. His Aura Amp is cool, but I like the "gate" produced that helps him refuel their aura. Him draining his aura would be great for him learning to grasp better aura control, thanks to a certain someone he learned from... Also, I'm just imagining him learning he can mimic semblances by accidentally summoning a tiny Ursa using Weiss' semblance.

If I may quote our favorite red reaper; "not a lot of folks appreciate the classics". Also, I'm curious if this advisor plays a role later in your series, if only indirectly by painting a target on Jaune by relation.

That's a strong word to start, but reading on, I get it. Jaune would have a low viewpoint of himself simply because he's not as strong or as smart or as talented as his family because he's constantly downplaying himself. I can imagine him making the most delicious duck à l'orange, only to chide himself because the duck was just a bit too dry. As for Jaune knowing the basics, that's where things get rough. Part of the reason the audience latched onto Jaune as their surrogate is because he didn't know anything about the world around him. Though if it's more like, "Oh, yeah, I know what a Beowolf is! Everyone does! ...There's an ALPHA Beowolf?" and "Wow! Your scythe is so cool! And it turns into a gun?! ...A high-impact what? ...Yeah, it's also a gun, that's what I said" then I'd be more inclined to buy what you're selling. "As he finally earns the title of huntsman..." and yet still refuses to call himself one. Because only heroes can be huntsmen, and he's no hero; just a fraud with a sword.

Honestly, the only other thing I can think of is his canon desire to be a Huntsman because he wanted to make something of himself like his heroic ancestors. Looking back, maybe he should have tried to put in the effort to be a cook. He really misses his mom's chicken nuggets right now...

Honestly, I don't see him being overpowered. Though the aura reserve does kinda give him a handicap, I can see him panting on the ground for a solid five-ten minutes at first before getting the hang of it. Does he throw up? Yes.

While that is an interesting take, I don't think he should have stayed in the Ever After because it would essentially be the same as saying Jaune was a dead-end character and had no role to play in the final battle against Salem and also it would make Nora cry.

#my thoughts #ReWriting RWBY #my answer #my answers #RWBY ReWriting #rwby #jaune arc

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fulltragedywerewolf · 4 months ago

Text

my headcannons on the mercs cooking:

Engie: a good cook, has no trouble cooking for the team. as any 🦅🇺🇲🗽AMERICAN🗽🇺🇸🦅, he uses a lot of butter in his meals. he doesnt follow recipes, he makes recipes; he's in a grandma type beat with food. his meals are usually spicy and vast, serving too much food on plates and leaving leftovers. he has The power of bringing people together with food™. champion of barbecues.

Soldier: doesnt know how to boil rice. turns the oven on weird. always makes too much pasta. splashes water when he stirs any pot. treats dough like it insulted him personally. handles oregano as salt. uses unsanitary amounts of butter (as any 🦅🇺🇸🗽AMERICAN 🗽🇺🇲🦅). the kitchen turns into a battlefield under his charge. he will serve the most disgusting and horrifying meal that you've ever seen, with a smile. the other mercs have to keep him out of the kitchen before having a biohazard in their hands. BUT ☝️ he makes GOD-TIER mac 'n' cheese. destiny spins a roulette to choose wich sickness are the mercs getting after having eaten a Soldier's meal (even with the mac 'n' cheese).

Medic: he thinks cooking is tedious, but he doesnt hate it. he finds ways to make it more... fun. he experiments. he takes a good look at the recipe, then throws it out the window, then begins cooking. his inner Victor Frankenstein is channeled in the kitchen. the resulting amalgamation of a meal falls in a spectrum between "a spit to god's creation" and "the equivalent of the discovery of a life-saving surgery". everyone is afraid before eating one of his creations. sometimes they move. obsessed with fish.

Heavy: his cooking expertise is farm/wild russian animals, so, everything outside of that field is uncharted territory for him. a nice way of saying that he earns gold stars for Trying. that's not saying that his meals are unedible, his lamb dishes are good (mostly), but they are certainly lacking. he refuses to use any condiments, which in his scenario would be very much needed. he mostly ends up with bland meals. even desserts end up somewhat hollow with flavour. with all that said, he's very clean while cooking and he's in charge of making bread for the team, because he is FANTASTIC at it. they save a lot of money on bread.

Pyro: the same enthusiasm & skills of a five-year-old. they give their hundred-and-ten percent on following the recipe and giving the team a five-star course. Fails Everytime. with enough time, they'll get to it, but now, they're stuck on leaning cakes and burnt-on-the-outside-but-raw-on-the-inside turkies. every meal they do is decorated with anything they find appropiate & sprinkled with sprinkles. one time they used plastic vegetables as decoration.

Spy: as any 🍷🇫🇷🥖french🥖🇫🇷🍷, he was born with chef-like abilities. he can take any recipe and amp it up to a hundred. the team eats michelin-star-winning courses when he's in charge. downsides: (1) he needs to start preparing the meal 3 hours before mealtime (this makes him unelegible for preparing breakfast and lunch); (2) has a bad temper when cooking, meaning that if something goes wrong in the process (the knife being dull, the dishes undone, his teammates annoying him, etc) he gets fed up and quits, even in the middle of cooking; (3) always complains about not having the "correct" ingredients for meals; and (4) sneers to the other mercs for liking "zhis crap zhat i made," even when the "crap" tastes amazing. yells at anyone who eats with their hands, specially one of his own meals. Cannot Make Baguettes (the actual reason why Heavy is in charge of bread) (constantly made fun of for this).

Demo: he wasn't keen on cooking until he learned that he could cook with booze. he was dissapointed when the meals didnt taste like beer, but he didnt loose his will of Cooking With Alcohol Even When The Dish Doesn't Need To. he uses beer in every meat he prepares (doesnt use wine), and they taste good. with the rest of meals, and also with all meals, he has no idea what he's doing due to Being Drunk. most (all) courses are done perfectly out of luck, cartoon-style. the results look unkept but nice at the same time. "looks good not because of the decoration but because it was made with love" type of beat. they all taste amazing though. his favorite dessert to make is the chocolate volcano (he makes it actually erupt).

Scout: two alternatives. One: he inherited the 🍷🇨🇵🥖french🥖🇨🇵🍷 of Spy and his mother's skills and now he's good for cooking to a large group of people. though, he's still learning, so he doesnt have The power of bringing people together with food™ yet, and he overmeasures for small sums of people. Two: he's shit at cooking, he's inpatient and forgetful, so things go undercooked or burnt. uses too much condiment for everything, and can't follow recipes. In both ways, the kitchen is left a mess, the breakfasts are sugary cereal, he only cooks things that he likes, and, as any 🦅🇺🇲🗽AMERICAN🗽🇺🇲🦅, he uses too much butter.

Sniper: he knows how to use the oven and the stoves, he just doesnt want to. he prefers cooking elaborate (and tasty) meals in a campfire, knowing that it'll take thrice as long. consecutively, he's at odds with boiling water: everything goes grilled or else, but not boiled. he gets a little pissed if the others decide to grab the food and take it inside, wasting the chance to eat under the beautiful sky, but doesnt want to eat alone either, so any group choice elected he'll follow, reluctantly or not. he only uses his knife to cook. second best at barbecues of the team.

no one cleans after cooking. "cooks dont clean" rule.

extras:

miss pauling: doesnt cook. not because she doesnt want to, but because she's too damn busy. henceforth, she always (1) takes delivery, or (2) "cooks" pre-made foods such as ramen, cereal, instant soup, etc. (the third secret option is not eating, but she regrets it everytime.) she will eat oatmeal with (cold) milk for breakfast lunch & dinner. if she has to.

the administrator: she's decent. but if you enter the kitchen while she's cooking, she'll stab you.

saxton hale: he only eats raw food. doesnt cook anything. if he ever has to cook for someone else, he just pops a dead animal on the table and says "bon appetit! :D"

#tf2 #tf2 mercs #tf2 headcanons

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 years ago

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Hello, I'm not really sure if you do this kinda of request but if you're interested, I was thinking about Thor having a daughter, who's like Mitsuri, I mean it would be interesting how they interaction would look like and other things but if you're not going to write that then please let me know, have a good day/afternoon/night.

-Thor was a powerful warrior, oozing respectable power, anyone who met him knew that he was an honorable warrior and a fierce man- able to make the earth shake under his power.

-That’s why it was so amusing to others, mainly Loki and Odin, that Thor’s first child was a little girl- becoming instantly wrapped around your little finger, adoring you.

-As you grew, Thor was the one who grew amused as you were way stronger than you looked, you looked like a little princess, but you could rival your papa in strength.

-You could also rival him in appetite- eating a lot of food but you never seemed to gain any weight, something even Odin regarded as odd.

-It wasn’t until you were five, having a doctor’s appointment, that you and your papa learned that your muscles were extremely dense, which is what gave you your immense strength, but due to the toll it took on your body, your metabolism was super high, which made sense about your appetite, you had to eat to keep up!

-Loki howled with laughter when you came to visit him, your hair pulled into three large braids, but what was making him laugh was that Thor had similar braids in his own hair, matching with you after you asked him. How could he refuse when you asked him so sweetly!!

-As you grew up, your hair turned into a pretty blend of green and pink, mainly due to you eating so many Sakura Mochi, something Odin couldn’t understand, but he loved his granddaughter anyway and just like your papa, both were extremely protective of you.

-Thor didn’t realize the downside of having such an adorable daughter until you began to bloom into a beautiful young lady, and his eyelid twitched, seeing the leering gazes of men all around you.

-Luckily for Thor however, Odin and Loki had both seen this as well and their protection had amped up. You could take care of yourself in combat, Thor knew this as he trained you himself, and you were the only person who had managed to beat him in combat, something he was proud of. Boys, on the other hand, was a battlefield he wasn’t expecting you having to face, but seeing these men coming around, asking for you, flirting with you, he knew that you needed to be protected and cared for.

-You adored your family, especially your papa- whom you respected and loved deeply, but you were getting a bit annoyed because he was chasing all the cute boys away!!

-You wanted to talk to boys, but Thor’s didn’t want boys around you- he wasn’t prepared to lose you to another just yet!! But you weren’t worried, as one of his stipulations was to beat him in combat or earn his respect to get the chance to speak with you.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror thor #mitsuri reader

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asheurbanipal · 7 months ago

Text

Where were they going without ever knowing the way? Ch. 2

on A03

<<Previous

Summary:

No luggage. No gas in the truck. No memories. Waking up with amnesia in a shack in the desert, our heroes find themselves drifting down the highway with no specific direction in mind. The only thing driving them? We know each other, and know each other well. But how? And why? And what is this feeling that lives in the pit of my stomach when I look at you?

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: ~10k

Chapter 2/2 in series

Content: memory loss, amnesia, trauma, amputation, canon-typical violence, bathtub sex, homophobic slurs

Chapter 2

"We haven't seen you in more than a week," said the man Logan had learned was named Scott. They had some kind of beef. None of them were talking about it, but everyone was clearly aware. The tension was there.

The giant silver dude, Colossus, had pulled their jeep around until it backed up to the SUV, creating areas for everyone to sit. Another woman with white hair had arrived --literally flying in-- that raised a warmer sense of familiarity in his chest. She hadn't given her name, yet, though. She seemed extra pissed at him for whatever bullshit it was they had pulled.

"Okay, so what was going on the last time you saw us?" Wade asked. This group --the X-men-- had been concerned but prickly with Logan. A sort of familial irritation. For Wade that was amped up to frustrated exasperation.

"There was an interstellar dragon situation in Moapa Valley," Scott sighed. Logan felt Wade tense in excitement. He shot a hand out and pressed it around the top of Wade's shoulder into the bottom of his throat a little. He caught the message to maybe shut the fuck up for a second.

"Wade begged to come with," Scott continued. "I told him, 'no.' He said if I let him come, he could show us some ammunition caches out in the desert he knew about. Something from an older merc job that they never cleaned up."

"Oh, fuck I'm a goddamn genius." Wade clapped rapidly in delight.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Scott agreed. "So I let you come. It was your idea to go to Vegas."

"Hm, that does sound like me," Wade decided. "Oh! I know what Vegas is! That's a good sign, right?"

"It ended up being a terrible idea, so..." Scott turned a small circle with his arms crossed.

"To be fair, Scott," said Hank McCoy. "I only came on this particular mission to go to Vegas myself. We were going that direction, anyway." Hank --Beast-- had taken a minute to adjust to. Big. Blue. Furry. But somehow this particular brand of weird was acceptable and familiar. He turned to Logan. "I wanted to touch base with a colleague at a research facility near Lake Mead." The new information immediately sorted itself into a lower priority drawer in Logan's brain.

"Fine," Scott agreed reluctantly. "But you two basically disappeared the instant we got to Vegas. Three days later, you've stolen one of the SUVs off the jet and left Warhead a cryptic message about 'a memory wipe guy.'" He nodded to the girl in yellow, the one that had spoken to them first.

"I told him you'd come home eventually," Warhead said, "be he insisted we try to at least pretend to look for you."

"Because you've both been acting fucking weird lately, so I wasn't sure what bullshit you'd get up to." Scott kicked a rock in the dirt. "Ever since-"

"Don't tell them, Scott."

"Storm?"

The woman with the white hair --Storm, he now guessed-- moved from her perch on a nearby rock to sidle up to where Logan was sitting on the back of the SUV bumper.

"Let them relearn it themselves," she hissed. "They want to solve their petty squabbles by manipulating their minds, let them earn their memories back."

"I did something to you didn't I?" Logan asked, cowed under her steely gaze.

"More what you didn't do. And when you remember, you're going to regret it."

#####

"I'm not getting in that fucking plane. We'll drive back. The tracker is on, isn't it? You won't lose us this time."

"Logan…"

"We'll meet up in Vegas."

Wade watched from the back of the SUV as Logan argued with the guy wearing the visor. Scott. Scooottt. Name sounded funny in his head and on his tongue. The instant he had suggested everyone get back on the jet, Logan had freaked out.

Baby boy doesn't like to fly. Put that away in the vault and lock it up.

Knowing they had a very sexy domestic relationship had changed the way he looked at Logan. That bloom of warmth he had been trying to make sense of was welcome now. He could bathe in it.

Logan stormed up to the side of the SUV, wrenching it open to hop in the driver's seat.

"Wade. Finish up whatever and get up here. We're going."

"Yes, sir, Logan, sir." Wade pulled the SUV hatch down and scrambled through the center opening, unfolding in the front seat. There was a brief cold war with the X-Jeep through the rearview before the other vehicle headed off into the sand.

"Dicks," Logan said to the reflection of their tail lights. He pressed the keyless ignition and began the process of moving the SUV back to the highway.

"Sounds like they're your best friends." Wade offered his hand across the console of the SUV. Logan took it absently.

Oh, muscle memory. Delightful.

"And considering you're apparently my partner, I'm getting a stark sense of the company I keep." He squeezed Wade's hand. The sensation rolled up him so nicely he could ignore the half an insult underneath.

Not like I'm NOT an asshole, from what I can tell. No reason not to accept it.

"Do you think we're a happy couple?" Wade asked, pushing the conversation in a direction he preferred.

"According to the pictures…" Logan rumbled a thought across his mouth. "Yes. I think we are. I feel like we are. It feels good."

"What would have happened if visor-boy and the mutant crew hadn't shown up?"

"We'd go to the address on our licenses. I had already been doing the math on the drive to New York."

"No, I meant when we were making out. If they hadn't interrupted." Wade flipped their hands over a few times.

"I would have fucked you senseless. I was not ready to slow down. It was like a…fugue state."

Oh those asssshoollleeesss.

"I'm glad we got stopped, though." Logan removed his hand to shift the GPS then settled it back. "I would have felt weird about it afterward. Because we're not totally ourselves."

"I wouldn't have," Wade replied. Logan kept his eyes on the road and didn't speak, but there was a tilt to his head that suggested he was curious to hear the rest of that. It was little realizations like this where he started to see the imprint of their relationship. The fact that he knew how to read Logan's body language.

"We were both consenting, " Wade continued. "You're hot as hell. And if you fuck like you fight, you are a champion of dicking down. If you deigned to lower yourself to my level, I'd one night stand you in a heartbeat, no questions asked. With the added knowledge that we're already together, I don't really care if I can't remember anything. I'd suck your soul out of your dick even if I had a lobotomy."

The silence that followed made Wade more and more nervous, Logan's hand tightening around his. When it relaxed, he felt himself breathe again.

"What do you mean lower myself?" Logan glanced sideways under the shadow of his eyelashes.

Holy fuck do I actually have to explain this to him? He can't be this stupid.

"Look, I've got a supple ass and a sick rack. This is not up for debate. But this suit's hiding a lot of sins, baby girl. Underneath all this red sexy, is a…mess, basically. No one thought to give me the full scoop on what the fuck is wrong with me, but whatever it was, it turned me into a giant ballsack."

"Wade, I think you're extremely attractive." They had hit a stretch of straight road, and Logan took the risk to chance some hard looks at Wade.

"I'm sure you got over your initial gag response, at some point, and now you love me because of my inside beauty, but like…come on."

"There's no way I had put up with this from you for any length of time."

"What 'this?'"

"This self-deprecation thing."

"And there's no way I was totally cool with getting my arm chopped off on the daily, so clearly-"

"So clearly it's something we worked on at some point." Logan squeezed his hand one more time before setting it on the wheel to deal with a rough patch of road.

Oh. I hadn't considered that.

"What if we just suck?" Wade countered. "And not in the fun way. We're just terrible people who are terrible together?"

I don't want to believe that. That doesn't feel right at all. It makes me sad.

"I don't believe that," Logan said.

motherfucker's telepathic

"I think we're just a little broken, " Logan said. "And we're fixing each other. Slowly. Or at least taping each other back together." His fists went tighter around the wheel.

"How are you so sure?" Wade asked.

"I'm not. But the only solid memory I've gotten back is that I love you. So that must be the most important one. I can work from there."

No wonder I'm in love with this man.

#####

Logan found the cellphones, fully charged, in a secret compartment in the back of the SUV while they were stopped at a travel plaza on the west side of Phoenix, Arizona. Scott had been kind enough to at least inform him that the SUV did, indeed, need to get refueled whenever possible. The solar battery would only run them so far even at the full charge it had built up parked out under the sun. With full nightfall coming on fast, they weren't going to be able to recharge for a while.

They had both gone in to take a piss, and now Wade was taking forever for whatever reason. They had already changed into civilian clothes, so it wasn't a suit issue. It didn't matter. It gave him time to go through their phones by himself. Whatever he had told Wade, a part of him was nervous, still.

He held the phones in his hand, deciding which to go through, first. Both had unlocked on his face. The pink glitter case with the tiny rainbow charm and an illustrated cat giving the middle finger on the lockscreen was probably Wade's. He sure fucking hoped it was, at least. It felt wrong to go through Wade's stuff without permission, so he started digging through the phone with the black and gray case, first.

It was less than useful.

His lock screen was their dog in a little red suit like Wade's. The wallpaper was a picture of him and his maybe-daughter eating cotton candy. Someone else had taken the picture. Maybe Wade?

The rest of the phone was starkly practical. A few basic functional apps, New York Times puzzles, and solitaire. The calendar said that "Puppins" was due for their flea and heartworm meds, so that was a clue on the dog, at least

Scott said they had been acting weird "since-." Since what? He flicked back through the calendar to look for anything that seemed like a big deal. Regular briefings with the X-Men, reminders to take out the trash, lawn care service…

"Dinner?" Logan said to himself as his feet dangled off the back bumper of the SUV. Two months back was an entry in his calendar that didn't look like he made it. It was the phrase "TAKE ME TO DINNER" in all caps with emoji hearts next to it. "Maybe I didn't take him when I was supposed to. Then we fought? Is that what we've been being 'weird since'?"

"You found our phones!?" Wade shouted across the parking lot, drawing everyone's attention as he jogged back to the SUV. He had changed out his red suit for a loose jersey with an X on it, cargo khaki shorts, knee-high socks and sandals. He looked objectively ridiculous, but it matched his overall vibe so perfectly, Logan couldn't imagine him in anything else. He had acquired a baseball cap with a cardinal on it inside the travel stop.

He hopped up next to Logan in the SUV, pulling out a couple of Ramune soda bottles. He popped the marble at the top then took a swig. Wade just looked down at his forlornly.

"I don't know how to open this," he said to himself quietly. Logan took it from him and went through the process a second time.

"Then why did you get them?"

"I don't know. I just saw them, was super surprised they had them at a travel stop, then my hand was already reaching for them. I think…I think you like them?"

"Yeah, they're not bad," Logan said, handing the drink back. Wade took a sip, and his face said he wasn't sure how he felt. "Anyway, here. Phone. I want you to look at a specific date."

"Absolutely," but the first place Wade went digging was the photo gallery. "Oh I have a whole folder in here marked 'Logan XXX.'"

"Okay, but did I pose for those? Or are they candid? Because I get the feeling-"

"Do you have any sexy pictures of me?" Wade shifted the focus with a snap.

"I didn't look."

"Can you?" Wade looked across at him, batting his lashless lids.

"I-okay...sure." He didn't expect there to actually be any. If the conversation from earlier was anything to go by, that little detail wasn't going to make Wade feel good about himself. Delaying it was going to make it worse, though.

He flicked through the gallery. It wasn't organized, but there wasn't much there to keep track of. Landscapes. Pretty sunsets and cloud formations. A few series of Puppins sleeping in weird positions. His maybe-daughter at various distances. When the first picture of Wade appeared, he gave a little chin nudge into Logan's shoulder.

It was a video. Wade playing with the dog in the yard, running barefoot through the grass in green and brown camo patterned shorts and a bright pink t-shirt with Dolly Parton on it. His smile was wide, shooting back and forth in the grass before he tossed a tennis ball. The camera followed Puppins chasing the ball. Wade chattered something in the background of the video that the camera didn't pick up, then it ended.

"Okay, super boring and domestic. Give me something hot and spicy." Wade reached over to scroll through the gallery quicker. "Oh this one's…oh…maybe not."

Wade in a plain colored t-shirt and sweats, feet up on a coffee table, mid-talking to whoever was behind the camera. It was the exact t-shirt Logan was wearing at that very moment. A picture of Wade in his clothes?

Wade was already moving through the gallery, again, stopping when he saw his face every ten pictures or so.

Wade holding the dog. Wade making stupid faces with his maybe-daughter. Wade and another young Japanese woman making stupid faces at Warhead. Wade with reading glasses focusing extremely hard on a Sudoku book. A video of Wade in his red suit, finessing his swords in a quick circle and giggling. A follow-up video of Wade showing this trick to some preteen boys. A second-follow up video of him showing those same kids how to run some kind of parkour drill in a large room.

"None of these are sexy," Wade declared.

"I think we just have vastly different versions of sexy," Logan assured, the warmth that rose in his chest spreading out into his stomach.

"Whatever." Wade scrunched his nose then went back to his phone. "What date did you want me to look at?" Logan brought his phone over.

"Here, two weeks ago. Looks like you made a calendar entry."

Wade hummed and opened his calendar. It was a mess. Reminders and notes and alarms for everything short of breathing. The date in question only had one block on it.

"It says one year anniversary." Wade waved his phone at Logan gently, then his face changed as he realized what he said. "One year. I can't decide if that's a good amount of time or none at all. Even if I can't remember shit, I feel like I've known you forever."

Logan pressed through his own thoughts. Wade felt new in his brain. Big but new. Life changing but recent. Maybe that was why they had built a life together so quickly.

"So, weird question," Logan said, "but I'm wondering if something happened at that dinner. Did we go?"

"Oh! That should be easy. I'll look at pictures from the date. Since I actually take some." He waggled his eyebrows. "Looks like I might have put it in a folder, even. Look at me. All organized and shit."

The pictures Wade presented started pretty normal. Them getting ready in their shared bedroom. A few selfies of them in nice clothes. Nothing fancy. Logan was in a sports coat and dark jeans with a cowboy hat. Wade looked smart in khakis, a maroon button up, and cream cardigan, but he didn't look totally comfortable in the outfit. The next few shots were in front of an Italian restaurant of some sort. Only confirmed because Wade took artsy photos of his pasta. But then something had gone wrong. Another selfie on the street on the way somewhere else showed paired looks of concern.

The next photo was a couple hours later.

A quick shot of Wade with a thumbs up in front of a pile of bodies with Logan in the background, claws out, digging into one last person. Both their outfits were torn and bloody, the splatters implying it wasn't their own. These unknown adversaries were armed to the teeth and dressed in black, so he could only assume they deserved whatever came to them.

The next picture was Logan throwing back a beer in their house, still a little torn and bloody, an air of broodiness hovering over him. They must have resolved things quickly, because the next photos were very obviously from Wade riding on top of him. Yet somehow not as explicit as they could have been.

"Oh, I am an artist, " Wade decided.

"So clearly something happened that night," Logan said. "But I think whatever it was started whatever…this…is." He gestured between them. "Scott said we'd been acting weird since some big event. An anniversary seems like the kind of thing that might set off a chain of weirdness."

"Especially if something went really wrong," Wade finished. "Yeah, I hear you, peanut." He looked up and glanced around. "We should stay here in Phoenix tonight."

"Kinda wanted to drive through."

"To get to Vegas where we got ourselves in trouble the first time. And I know we're both tired. And there's literally a Super 8, like, right over there somewhere according to the cashier." He pointed down the road.

The problem was Logan couldn't actually disagree with him. He was, indeed, exhausted. And driving this tired was probably dangerous.

"Alright. Fuck. We'll find somewhere to stay. But not a fuckin' Super 8. I found a black card in my wallet, and I intend to use it if I'm going to have to suffer."

"Yay!"

#####

"There's still time to switch to two queens instead of a king. They probably wouldn't ask any questions."

"What?" Wade asked, then the rest of his brain processed the question as he gazed around the room. "No. No no no no. This is fine." He dropped his bag at the end of the bed.

"I'm sorry for not confirming with you," Logan said. "Hotel clerk asked what kind of room, and I went into auto-pilot. We must get hotel rooms a lot."

Probably not like this one. Doesn't feel familiar.

The best they could find within spitting distance was a Marriott, but after a night on a cave floor it might as well be a ten-star accommodation. He did another once over of the room, searching under the tables and chairs for…something…It was like a tick. An impulse to check the room for possible security failures. He turned and panicked. Logan was taking off his shirt.

fuck fuck fuck

Wait….why are you freaking out? You saw him shirtless just a few hours ago.

Calm the fuck down.

"I assume you'll want a shower. Mind if I go first?"

"No, go ahead."

"Okay." Logan paused with his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" Wade tried to lean nonchalantly on the table then jumped back when it tipped underneath him.

"You're always a little bit distracted, but you seem on edge. Did you remember something?"

"Ah…no…um…I think we hid our cellphones. That maybe we're the ones who put them in that secret compartment." It had started needling at him immediately. Why hide their phones? Why tuck them away like that?

"Who were we hiding them from?"

"Ourselves?"

"Huh…" Logan paced a few steps as he ruminated on the idea. "So we leave our wallets in our bags, phones in the car, then fuck off into the desert?"

"It's a theory," Wade said.

I don't have any better ones, at the moment.

"Does that make sense?" Logan sat on the bed to think. "Not that I think you're wrong; I'm just trying to find the logic."

"I kind of ruled out being kidnapped pretty early what with the whole…personal armory…thing. Don't think a kidnapper would have left us behind with that."

"Nope, probably not…wait…" He paused to roll a thought over. "We also erased our own memories."

"Shit, you're right, " Wade said. "That's what Glasses said. We 'found the memory wipe guy.' We were looking for this."

"Why the absolute fuck would we do this to ourselves?" Logan stood from the bed again, crossing his arms over his chest. "It had to be for a reason. A really good one." His pacing got a little faster.

He's sexy when he's thinking.

He's sexy when he's breathing, though, so whatever.

Wade watched Logan's form, tracking his every muscle movement. That welling feeling of wanting to bite and gnaw on him kept rising up in his chest and setting his throat on fire. It was so fucking distracting, but it was also raw . Pure in its utter debauchery. He had to believe it was a real thing.

"You did this." Logan's voice slammed hard against him.

"Excuse me?"

"I can tell I've had my memory wiped before. I can feel it. Stacked amnesia. I wouldn't have volunteered to do this again. It must have been your idea."

Wade moved forward across the room, stood a foot from Logan, chest out and shoulders wide. Trying to be mad but only finding hurt.

"Or maybe since you've been through amnesia before, you thought it was worth it for whatever this…project…is. Or maybe it was my idea, but there's no way I forced you to do it. So you agreed."

"Maybe you strong-armed me. Blackmailed me. Withheld something until I said yes. Like sex."

What the fuck , dude?

"Do any of those pictures look like a man who would withhold sex? Especially from you ? What the fuck is your problem? You know what no…"

fuckin'

Even if it was my idea so what? So fucking what. We're in this together now.

"I'm going to go search the SUV for any more clues," Wade declared. "And you're going to sit and think about what you just said to me.

Fucking ass.

He started toward the door.

"Fucking ass," he gave as a parting shot.

The problem was that he couldn't necessarily say that Logan was wrong. Erasing their memories was probably his idea. In their one day together, he could figure out that much. He didn't know if he was a genius or an idiot or that beautiful combination of the two, but he was clearly the schemer.

Logan was absolutely not the type to be strong-armed into anything he didn't want to do, though. Either he had comfortably agreed with the plan, or Wade had been sufficiently persuasive. So for him to be this accusatory was downright insulting.

And that's something I'm allowed to be mad about, damn it.

He crawled into the back of the SUV, and started aimlessly throwing panels back, folding and unfolding the seats, looking for any evidence of a hidden pocket. He did uncover a few, but there was little of any importance inside. Two more backpacks of clothes. Another small duffle with extra ammo for a gun he hadn't found in his armory bag. The shotgun that went with the ammo he just found.

The organization of this is all over the place.

Why do I kind of understand it, though?

I'm absolutely the one who packed this SUV and filled all its hideyholes.

After an hour of fruitless labor, he dropped breathlessly into the passenger seat, door still open. He unlatched the glovebox. Just the user manual. He closed it again. The latch didn't take and it popped back open again.

Fuck you.

He tried to close it again, but the manual got in the way this time.

FUCK YOU.

He pulled out the book and reared back with the intention of throwing it as hard as possible. Then a piece of paper fell out. Lined notebook paper, folded in half with writing on the outside. "WOLVERINE, READ ME. FROM YOU (WOLVERINE)"

oh hoh hoh hoh

I'm absolutely reading this bitch.

Dropping the manual into the driver's seat, he unfolded it carefully, laying it across his lap. Under the dome light, the indents of the blue pen filled the paper with beveled shadows, the other side of the page textured under his fingers.

Logan, Wade won't look in the glove box, but I know at some point you'll get bored and check the manual for features. You agreed to have your memory erased, but you told him you'd be leaving behind a note. You just didn't tell him where in case he hid it again.

Oh fuck.

He was super adamant about neither of us knowing anything for this project. You'll understand why, eventually. Right now, you're freaked out. I know. We've been through this amnesia thing before. It's real shit every time. Don't worry this time IT WILL COME BACK when the serum wears off.

Here Logan had underlined a few times, almost bleeding into the next line.

I put in some backups for when this goes to shit. The tracker on the SUV will start pinging again, at some point, so the X-Men will find you eventually. So look for a guy with a visor, a giant metal dude, or an attractive black woman with white hair. You can trust them. YOU CAN TRUST WADE. I can't tell you more, but you would kill and die for this man. More importantly, he would do the same for you. Just get back to Las Vegas and don't freak out. -Logan PS. Wade, if you do happen to find this, shut the fuck up.

But then he'd put a little smiley face at the end of the line. Wade let the note sit in his lap for a minute. Had he left a letter like this for himself? He was certain he would have found it, by now. Had Logan found this note already? Was he using that to form his own opinions? Wade had to know.

Wade practically scrambled through the main door and up the elevator. He almost dropped the keycard but hustled the door open.

"Logie, I have found the juciest clue!"

……

Logan?

"Kitty cat?" Wade peered around the room, testing the bathroom door. Logan was gone.

#####

Logan's hands were firmly in his pockets, held tight around a thumb drive. It hadn't been too late for an Uber when he left the hotel, but, depending on how long this took, he might not have the same luck getting all the way across town. He also had the car drop him off about two blocks away from the internet cafe. It wasn't a specific thought that led to that decision. More like something that lived deeper. That had been ingrained in him over a long period of time until it was second nature.

Escaping into the night without telling anyone also felt natural. He hadn't questioned the decision even once.

He had found the thumb drive in the interior of one of Wade's bags. It had taken seconds, and was mostly an accident. When Wade stormed out, Logan got mad. Mad without a specific focus. Just…mad and sad and annoyed. He picked up all the bags and moved them against the wall, pushing some of his frustration into tossing them against the wall. It was pure accident that one of the bags of clothes made a jingling sound when it banged against the chair leg. One run of his hand along the inside of the bag, and he found the bulge. A quick swipe of his claw along the inner lining, and the pony keychain with the thumb drive attached revealed itself.

If he had to make a guess, Wade had left some kind of trail of clues. Breadcrumbs. The drive would hold some kind of viable information to bring this all together. He wanted to see it himself, first, though, on his own. Wanted to see what Wade thought was important and convinced himself it was how to make up for saying something so awful.

The hotel didn't have a business center. A quick Google showed him that "LAN Cafes" were a thing, though, and there was a 24/7 one in Tempe. Logan paid for one of the open computer stations and fumbled through the technology enough to access the drive.

He found a folder labeled "Our Life-DONT LOOK UNLESS FUCKED" and a solo text document. He clicked on that one first.

Hey Toad-face-

Ah, this was a note from Wade to Wade. The self-deprecation was immediate and strong. The computer had clearly corrected Wade's writing but hadn't caught everything.

You have super cancer. You can heal pretty much anything. You can theoretically not die but I haven't fully tested it and NOW IS NOT THE TIME. That's all done The super hot fucker your with is super important and he wont let you die for to long. Promise. Right now you have a bet going so I'm not going to spoil anything. But honey badger said that he would only do this thing if I set a contingency or two. This is that. I used the computer in the business suite at our hotel to make this. Only look at it if something goes to shit and your memory is super fucked. -XOXO Wade (=˃ᆺ˂=)

Logan closed out of the document, then drifted the cursor over to the folder. He tapped his finger on the mouse, deciding whether he would open it.

"Fuck it."

The folder was full of pictures, and he found himself just skimming, scrubbing through the folder window. He had seen the photos on the phone already. Seen himself through Wade's eyes via camera. He slowed down when he saw another text document. It was full of wall to wall text, no paragraphs. It was hard to read, but he muddled through the rambling, wandering language.

Wade hadn't fully considered that the man who would be reading this wouldn't have all his memories, so there were jumps in context. Gaps in the lore. They had been through something big together, though. Wade kept referencing The Void. Kept talking about when they "exploded." Referenced multiple universes. Sometimes he slipped into a time clearly before Logan was around. About a woman named Vanessa he seemed to love desperately at one point. Time travel. Despite his insistence in the other document, he might have actually died at one point. At the end was a list of instructions on the best way to reattach a severed limb.

"Buried the info a bit, but we figured it out." He went back to the pictures, and scrolled down to the end. Some of these were newer, taken in Vegas. The images flashed through the preview pane quickly.

He stopped on the last one. It was a selfie of them in sports coats and jeans standing in the middle of a balloon arc, holding a piece of paper. An official looking document with their names on it, sanctioned by the State of Nevada.

A marriage license.

Wade found him in the bar. Drinking seemed the best option after what he found, and he wasn't ready to go back to the hotel, yet. He needed to process all his emotions in an environment that felt familiar. He didn't actually know what he liked, though, so he was up to drink number three, landing on a Blue Moon, for now.

He had no idea how long it would take him to get drunk or if he even could, but he was willing to start the relearning process.

"Hey," Wade said quietly, sidling up to him at the counter. He set a tablet down in front of them. It was blinking with dots.

"Is that…tracking us?" Logan scrubbed around on the screen, getting a feel for the environment around them.

"Yeah, I found it in the SUV. Not sure where the receivers are hidden, though. Maybe shoes?" Wade zoomed out, and another dot appeared way to south of them. "And I think that's another one. Maybe one we left behind somewhere?"

Logan dragged the tablet over and started looking at the streets and nearby landmarks.

"The AA token that was in my wallet. It was a tracking chip. I threw it in the dirt. Not ruining my sobriety after all." He took a swig in celebration.

"Weird choice," Wade decided.

"Maybe we couldn't find something better at the last minute and wanted to make sure we could find our wallets. Whatever it is we're doing, I'm not totally sure we thought all the details out. Feels like we kind of half-assed it."

"So you don't think this was my idea, anymore?" Wade tested.

"Nope. Still do." Out of the corner of his eye, Wade's head dipped in melancholy. Logan pulled him in around the waist. "But I'm very sorry for the way I said it. It was unnecessarily mean. I was just…being an asshole. I realized that you were right, and I must have agreed to do it. And if I agreed to do it, it must have been for a good reason." He tucked his face into the halo of Wade's hoodie and spared him a kiss on the cheek.

They were good and goddamn married after all, right? Right…?

"This ain't one of the gay bars, boys." The voice crackled from somewhere behind them.

"Mike, shut the fuck up." A woman's voice hissed at the first as they turned around.

Mike was a decent looking guy in his late twenties. Probably went to the gym a couple times a week. Little bit of stubble. Douchebag haircut. T-shirt from something local and jeans. He had matching wedding rings with the woman next to him who was clutching to his arm in concern. The woman across from him was the one yelling at him. She was paired with a smaller man who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

"Just talking to my husband, bub," Logan said, then started turning back.

"Husband?" Wade whispered. Logan gave a little headshake that he would explain later.

"Okay, well maybe you'd be more comfortable doing that somewhere else." Mike was relentless, it would seem.

"Oh my god, in the year of our Lord Patti Lupone: 2025 is this actual real life homophobia?" Wade cracked his knuckles.

"Wade, calm down. This isn't a barfight kind of establishment." He squeezed Wade's hand for half a moment, working from bone-deep muscle memory.

"A barfight?" Mike stood up, tottering off his stool. "You fairies want to make this a barfight?"

"MIKE WHAT THE FUCK?" The woman tried to drop down around the table and get to him. Her partner sort of flailed in uncertainty.

"Mike, honey," his wife tried to reach out to him, but he shook her off.

"Nah, if these fucking fags wanna go, let's go--"

Wade threw the first and only punch, getting in half a second before Logan could. Mike went down hard, his body making a series of thumps as he hit the floor. He wasn't out, but sitting on the sticky concrete, dazed. Wade was already leaning back against the countertop.

"Honey, your claws." He tapped the blades that had zipped out from Logan's hands.

"Right." He pulled them back in. He turned to the bartender, a young woman who currently had her hand hovering over a hidden button that would call the police. "Close my tab. We're leaving." He grabbed Wade around the wrist, pulling him out of the room.

"Give me the keys," Logan barked and Wade obliged. The way he had parked the SUV, the passenger side faced away from the bar and toward a wall.

He followed Wade around to that side and pressed their bodies together against the car. Logan slammed his lips against Wade's, searching his mouth with his tongue, unsure what he was looking for. His hands crawled around Wade's back and he found his rough skin under his shirt.

The fire he hadn't realized had been building in his chest started to die out into embers. He had just needed to touch Wade. To feel him. To be anchored to the one familiar thing left. He pulled away.

"Oh that's mean. Don't do that. Come back." Wade clutched at him, trying to pull him back. Logan moved in a little closer as a compromise.

"Your skin looks the way it does because of 'super cancer,' apparently." Logan said.

"Who told you this?"

"You did." Logan had printed the shorter text file from the thumb drive and pulled it out of his back pocket. Wade scanned over it.

"Fuck. Okay. You did the same." Wade pulled a piece of paper from one of his side cargo pockets. Logan immediately recognized his own chicken-stratch writing. "Looks like we made a bet of some sort. Wonder what the wager was?"

"Found something else with the note." Logan looked away, thinking for a moment, deciding if this was the time and place. "It's a picture of us at a chapel with a marriage license. I think we might be married."

Wade's body froze underneath him.

"No…no no no."

"Do you not want to be married to me?" Logan asked, trying to push the strange edge of hurt out of his voice.

"No, I do. I do? I do. That just…scared me. I think…hm…I wasn't ready to hear it…I…I don't know. Just this feeling…" He paused. Then he leaned forward and pecked Logan quickly on the lips, fingers touching Logan's jaw. "Let's go back to the hotel and sleep." He opened the door and climbed inside stiffly. On the other side of the door, Logan stared vaguely through the window, then moved around to the driver's side.

#####

Wade woke up pre-dawn with Logan wrapped around him, face pressed into his back. That wasn't how they went to sleep.

Married married married married.

The idea rumbled in the back of his head. It didn't feel right. Everything else had felt right. This didn't.

"If you're finally awake, let's get going," Logan murmured into his shoulder.

"How long have you been up?" Wade asked.

"A while."

"And you just…laid there? Like this?" Wade patted Logan's arm then turned underneath it to face him.

"Yeah. It…felt nice." Logan squeezed him around the waist a little.

"It feels like things are starting to come back. Little stuff. Mostly emotions."

"Yeah. I had a dream about a mini-van, then woke up with a hard-on. I don't know what that means, but it feels like a memory."

"That's a fuck of a memory."

I kinda like it. That's…that's sexy.

I want to fuck this man SO HARD.

Why am I so freaked out about marriage if this is how I feel?

married married married.

Logan squeezed his ass.

"Let's get going."

"You're being a lot more affectionate with me, now." Wade kept watching Logan as he, himself, crawled out of bed.

"Am I? I'm not really thinking about it. Maybe it's those memories coming back?"

"Is it because you think we're married?" Wade asked, keeping a little bit of distance.

"You don't think we actually are?"

"Did you see signatures on the license? And we have to file it, right?"

An out. That's what I need. An out. A place to wiggle through this weird feeling.

"That is a good point that I didn't consider." Logan paused as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Is this something you're ready to talk about, yet?"

no no no no no.

"No?" Wade tested. Logan nodded then continued pulling his shirt down.

Why is this starting to feel so…normal? Why is that so scary?

Wade leaned his head against the window watching huge swatches of desert and scrubland pass.

bored bored bored bored

Every time he tried to reach into his brain for something to think about, he felt like he was working through sludge. He flicked on the radio. Country. Gospel. A few preachers screaming about whatever passed for God these days.

"Oooh, classic rock." Wade let his hands drift back into his lap. Logan turned the volume down slightly.

"I think the age on my license is a fib." He tapped the panel of the radio. "Because I remember seeing Led Zeppelin live. They played this. But I'm one-hundred percent an adult in my memory. Passing a joint with someone…" Logan stared out through the window, eyes narrowing. "1972. Who would I have been hanging out with in 1972?"

"I'm imagining the world's worst blunt rotation, right now, not gonna lie."

Man, he's old. OLD old. I felt like I knew that because I'm not freaked out by being a graverobber.

Maybe I'm a gerontophile.

I know the word gerontophile, apparently. Don't think I could spell it, though.

G-e-r….a?

That's not right.

A small chapel slunk by them in the distance.

The memory this triggered slushed through his brain like a waterfall over boulders. Sharp and tumultuous and never ending.

"We fought over getting married. Or being married. Not to each other, just in general. I was engaged at some point, and it went tits up. You apparently can't keep a relationship together at all without someone dying or becoming a super-villain."

"That hurts. Feels like the truth, though, so I guess I can't be mad."

"Right right right. So we decided that maybe we just weren't the marrying type, right now, but we…" Wade fell off. The memory broke here. The pieces of information fell away too far, just the emotions remaining. "Something happened there. We…resolved the marriage idea…but that led to a fight. Or a…a discussion? Raised voices. I think we were drunk."

"Can we get drunk?"

"Maybe high? Oh god, I don't know want to know what kind of drug actually gets us fucked up. Okay let me think."

"....after what we've been through."

"You really don't think it would have happened without…"

"I mean, infinite universes and whatever but…"

"...that spark, though…"

"...Not denying that. Just practical…catalyst…growing through…"

"You make it sound like trauma bonding."

"Maybe it was, at first, but that's fine, right? At this point?"

"Yeah but…"

The voices layered on top of each other. He couldn't tell who was who. He pressed his hands to his ears, trying to hear the voices again, but they slipped away.

"We got caught in some kind of gang war on our anniversary," Logan said suddenly. "And we had a conversation about what we thought our lives would look like if we weren't fighting all the time. We thought we'd be bored. And we were…talking to Storm about it while doing drills in the danger room. And she called us emotional masochists, and I said something back and oh…that…didn't go well. I remember that…I don't…remember the rest."

Then it got weird. I remember. Holy shit.

All the questions we had no idea how to answer.

If we weren't superheros, would we have anything in common?

Did we only work so well together because we could both regenerate?

We were going to live for so so so so so long? What did the rest of our lives look like?

Wade pressed his palms to his ears again, trying to pull up the conversation in his head. Trying to relive it. It was gone, though. All of it. The echo of the information remained, but the memory itself just slipped back into the ether.

"We need to get to Vegas. This started there." Wade tapped his knuckles on the window. "This isn't fun anymore.

#####

Vegas lost a lot of its shine pulling into the main drag in the middle of the afternoon.

"Any of this looking familiar, babe?" Logan asked. The term of endearment sort of slipped out. Muscle memory.

"There." Wade pointed through the window. "We were in that casino."

"Good enough for me."

Weekday at 2 pm was apparently optimal parking, and they were walking into the front of the casino within ten minutes.

"Oh fuck, not you again." A security guard was the first to approach them, hand hovering near his gun.

"No one likes to see us," Wade mused.

"Considering everything we've remembered, so far, I'm less and less surprised." Logan held up his hands to the guard who still hadn't decided if he was going to shoot, yet.

"We're just trying to find somebody," Logan said. "Someone we talked to while we were here last."

"You know how many people come in and out of here?" The guard said.

"But you remember us," Wade pointed out.

"Fair," admitted the guard.

"You guys were talking to Dr. Tom." This voice was a young woman in a waitstaff uniform with an empty drink tray tucked under her arm.

"And where do we find Dr. Tom?" Logan sighed. They were so close to the end of this. This stupid stupid wild goose chase.

Dr. Tom, apparently, was a plastic surgeon, and worked out of an office not too far off the strip. A little light threat to his secretary got them back in Dr. Tom's office.

"You can calm the fuck down," Dr. Tom said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. None of them sat, and he gave up trying. "All I did was overhear you two talking about how it would be nice if you could forget for a while. I happened to point you to a friend of mine who happens to offer that service. People like to leave things in Vegas, sometimes."

"So you'll point us to this friend." Logan stepped forward.

"Fucking yes. Just ask politely I'm not a super-villain, you weirdos. Jesus." Dr. Tom stepped back toward the wall. "But if you're going to go in there snapping out claws, I'm less-inclined to hand over the address. She's a good woman. She's trying to cure Alzheimer's and shit. That's how she figured out her compound. She uses the money she makes for research."

"Oh I hate when the antagonist is actually a good guy," Wade complained.

"Okay," Logan agreed. "We just want to talk to her."

This time they had to wait a few hours for her to get off work. They pulled up to a neatly aligned house out in the suburbs and the woman who greeted them, Dr. Charlotte Stone, invited them freely into her garage.

"Gentlemen! I'm so happy to see you again. Is it going well?"

"No," Wade said.

"Surviving," Logan added.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Charlotte rerolled her hair into a bun and lowered the garage door behind them. "Did you put together letters and leave them in easy to find places?

They hovered weirdly in the center of her garage. Two walls were lab equipment, the third refrigerated storage. A computer station was tucked into the corner nearest the door into the house.

"We did," Logan confirmed. "But I think we did it wrong. We didn't put in our notes why we did this memory…thing."

"You were trying to settle a bet, I believe, but let me see my notes." She pulled a binder down from a set of half cabinets. "Here we go. Let me pull up your video."

"Wait what? Video?" Wade moved forward, trying to peek over the top of the binder. She handed it over easily. "A lot of shorthand, so I don't know if you can read it."

Wade dropped the binder on the counter.

"I can barely read, to start. I don't know why I bothered."

Charlotte had moved to the computer, though, shifting focus.

"Here you boys, go." She stepped back from the screen, and rotated it to them to see better.

The video versions of themselves sat in their colored combat suits, bickering over who was going to explain.

"It was my idea, I'll do it," said Video Wade.

"Feels weird getting that confirmed," said real life Wade.

"I am convinced that we are soulmates. So in any universe, we would eventually meet and fall in love." Video Wade said.

"No you actually don't," video Logan corrected. "You're just trying to be contrarian." Video Logan turned flush to the camera again. "We've been having this much bigger conversation the past couple of months about the future of our relationship, which we'll --you'll remember again at some point. And I happened to say that I don't think that our relationship would look like it currently does without having gone through the things we went through. I didn't even say we wouldn't be together. Just…it'd be different."

"But you said it while we were in a wedding chapel," Video Wade said. "Feel like that changes the tone."

The screen versions of them bickered some more.

"From this side of the screen, this argument looks really stupid," Wade said.

"We look really upset, though," Logan noted.

"You kind of were," Charlotte confirmed with a grim chuckle. "People only come to me when they think things are insurmountably dire and looking for a new perspective."

The video had started talking to them again, Wade staring down the camera.

"We decided the only way to know for sure was to start from scratch. Wipe it all out and see what happens." Video Wade tapped the table they were sitting out with a sense of finality. There was a little more chatting, but the video seemed to have delivered all the important information.

"So how did this work?" Logan asked. "We have so many gaps."

"It's a series of liquid capsule pills depending on how much you want to get rid of and for how long. I gave you the first one to make sure you didn't have an immediate adverse reaction, then sent you off with the rest of the doses and instructions. Told you to do it in a safe place under the supervision of some friends. It's supposed to be a slow, gentle process to give you the option to stop at any time if it gets too weird. Guess you might not have…followed directions."

"Yeah, sounds like us," Wade sighed.

"Okay. What's the plan to reverse it?" Logan shifted on his feet, nervous.

"Oh, it should wear off soon. Probably by tomorrow morning."

"Thank God, okay. Okay." Logan clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Then that's it. It's over. All that stress and mystery."

"Yeah." Wade shifted on his own feet.

"Well did it work?" Charlotte asked.

"What do you mean?" Logan responded.

"Did you figure out the thing you were looking for? This whole…soul mate thing?"

Logan rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

"We uh…we woke up in a shack in the middle of Arizona."

Charlotte made a face at that but let him continue.

"And uh." Logan looked for the words for half a moment. "And I'm pretty certain I, uh…I woke up already in love with him."

"Oh, I know I did," Wade agreed.

"I told you that might happen. I can wipe experiential life stuff, but the really strong emotional triggers very frequently linger."

"Cool, so we didn't learn anything." Wade shuffled his feet on the raw garage floor. Charlotte shrugged at them.

"I find that when the memories come back, you figure out whatever you were meant to. Even if it doesn't seem like it, at first."

#####

"Not that I'm complaining about room service snowcrab, why are we holing up in a hotel with the strip literally right there?" Wade picked a bit of shell out of his teeth, a chip of it sneaking into the leg meat when he cracked it open.

Logan had found a place to get cigars and was finishing one on the balcony. Evening was bringing more people through, making everything a little louder. A little busier. Logan stamped out the end of his cigar on the railing and came back inside, closing the glass door shut. Everything dropped to a dull thrum again, just the sound of 30 Day Fiance reruns playing in the background on the TV.

"Charlotte said she couldn't explain all our actions with her pills, so the probably don't work the same for us." Logan wandered restlessly through the room, stopping in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom. "So we're staying put. At least until I can get a hold of Scott and the others."

"Where the fuck did they go? They were supposed to meet us here."

"Fucking dragon came back or something. I don't know." Logan leaned back against the doorframe even harder.

He looked so tired .

Fuck he looks how I feel, so I must be a goddamn mess in comparison.

Wade swayed up from his hotel lounger and moved across the room. He wrapped his arms around Logan's waist and pressed his face into Logan's chest. Logan returned the affection with his arms gently resting around Wade's hips.

"Holy fuck, I didn't realize how big this bathtub was when we walked in." Wade pulled free and wandered over to it, sitting on the edge. "Fucking Jacuzzi jets. Holy shit."

Oh, I'm getting in this bitch, right now.

He immediately started moving his hands over the knobs and looking in the cabinets for something to put in the water.

"Holy fuck they have bathbombs."

holy fuck glitter

All the rest of his thoughts were just about getting the shrinkwrap open and getting into the water. Soaking in it. Soothing his nerve endings.

Some clothes hit the floor out of the corner of his eye, and he flicked over his shoulder. Logan had shucked off his shirt and was now working on his belt.

uhhhhhhh?!?

fuck fuck

Now he was thinking about other things than taking a bath.

"What?" Logan said when he caught Wade staring. "It's big enough for two. I thought that was the point."

"No you just went from 'don't fucking touch me' to making out against a car to cuddling to bathing together really really fast. Getting a little whiplash."

"Sorry." Logan flicked his hands. "I don't know. Things are just starting to feel normal again, so I'm just…I don't know. If you don't-"

"Oh no. Now that you've started, you better take those fucking pants off." The crown-shaped bath bomb burst in swirls of pink glitter and shimmer. Wade dropped his eyes as Logan got in the water, something too overwhelming about seeing him naked all at once right now.

His dick has been in my mouth.

My dick has been in his mouth.

We've been inside each other in so many different ways.

calm the fuck down

His body made the motions on auto-pilot, stripping off his clothes and sliding into the water. Then through the water to sidle into the space between Logan's thighs. The instant their naked bodies pressed against each other, a year of touch memory flooded his body.

hands touching, knuckles brushing

blades in my body, me begging for it

pressing inside me, thrusting hard, over and over

his soft, pulsing insides

teeth on flesh and flesh on teeth

"Fuck," Wade whispered, parting his knees around Logan's hips, wrapping his arms around Logan's shoulders so he didn't slide back into the water.

I'm so hard. Oh god. I've never been this hard in my life.

Wade didn't even ask before slipping his hand down between them and taking both their cocks in his hand. Logan wasn't quite so hard to start, but that changed immediately.

"Wade," Logan cooed into his ear. "This wasn't necessarily the idea when I got in here."

"You don't get to be sexually sanctimonious on me. I can remember some things now. I talk a big game, but you're actually ten times hornier than me." He grabbed Logan's chin in his hand. "And we get the chance to have a first time again. How cool is that?"

Logan rolled his face into Wade's neck.

"I'm not saying 'no', I'm saying lean back."

Logan hinged forward, moving Wade into position below him, straddling Wade's lap. His mouth covered his, nipping and gnawing at Wade's lips, tongue flicking over Wade's gums and teeth.

inside me

inside him

hard against hard, soft against soft, hard against soft

Logan lifted a little, hinging off the bottom of the tub at his knees. His hand came around Wade's cock and he pressed the tip to his entrance.

"Oh baby girl don't go in raw," Wade gasped.

"I'll trust the healing factor," Logan growled back, then eased down slowly on Wade's length until he settled at the base. "Okay, that actually hurts a lot more than I expected, you're right." He pressed his forehead to Wade's. "Ah. Okay. Okay. Fuck." He rolled his hips in a small circle, running up and down a half pulse on Wade's cock. "That's better. Okay. Yeah. Ah. That's good."

Logan kissed him again, this time quick and chaste, of all fucking things.

"How does it feel, Wade?" Logan hissed. "Do I feel good inside?"

"Oh, I think I might die and eject everything from my body if you talk like that again." Wade clenched around Logan's hips and waist, nails digging into his skin and the muscle and fat and tissue underneath. Then Logan properly started moving, shifting up and down on his strong thighs and calves.

I'm gonna get my memories back just to die from a cardiac arrest.

"Why did you change your mind? About…about doing this while our memories are shot? About…everything…" Wade had to concentrate on the words, but he needed to say them. He needed to hear it out loud.

Logan whined and panted as he spoke, throat tight over the words, voice sparking at the top every time he dropped down.

"You said you would fold to a one night stand with me, no question. I imagined the same thing. Meeting you in a bar. You sitting down…hah…next to me. Buying me another round of whatever I was having. You'd probably annoy the shit out of me, at first, but the fact is after a little while I'd probably start thinking you're kind of funny. Kind of…nhg…kind of cute. And if you flirted with me and asked me to go home with you, I would have probably done it. We would have fucked, and it would have been hot. So why hold back, at this point?"

"So you agree we're soul mates? "

"I agree that we're two horny idiots who can do this to each other without getting hurt." Along the top of the water, he clicked out his blades, jabbed them into Wade's ribs, then pulled back. Wade squealed.

fuck shit fuck fuck.

It is so fucked up how good that feels.

"So given certain variables, I see us drifting together for some real kinky sex, at minimum. I don't know how the other stuff works, just yet." He gripped Wade around the chin and pulled his face up to kiss him again. "Any other concerns? Because I'd like to keep going without having to think so hard."

"No, I'm…I'm good…"

Wade's hips started bucking up into Logan, trying to sink even deeper into him as Logan came down. The water sloshed out of the tub, swirling around their conjoined bodies and swishing into the in between spaces in a constant rhythm. He grasped for Logan's cock and started hurried, desperate strokes.

"Slow down, baby. I wanna come together." Logan buried his face into the side of Wade's head.

This feels…feels….feels…

…different…

soft and hard, hard and soft

They didn't normally do it like this. He could feel the shape of that. That weird combination of familiarity and novelty. His muscle memory wasn't kicking in, so he was falling back on intuition and guesswork and being an adult with, presumably, at least an ounce of sexual experience.

He spread his free around the outside of Logan's ass, willing him to sink lower, to bury Wade deeper inside. Logan sensed the desire and somehow got his body to drop even farther, to open even more for Wade.

The orgasm almost snuck up on him, the heat and weight of the water distracting all his other never endings. He started stroking Logan again, taking to a speed he somehow knew would bring him there. Logan arched forward, hands gripping the edge of the tub on either side of Wade's head. His hips moved from a pulse to a grind. Wade moved faster.

Wade came hard inside, pulling from the tops of his aching feet and toes and clenching his teeth.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Logan let out a guttural howl. Then there was a sharp metal sound that clanked against porcelain. The sidewall of the tub collapsed against Wade's shoulders.

"Fuck." The plug was to his left, and he slammed the switch open to drain the tub. He sat up, still inside, bringing Logan along with a hand around his back. Logan's claws were still out. Wade touched them.

"Peanut. The claws."

"Right, yeah." Logan, however, was staring at the backside of the tub. "I didn't totally break it. It's still containing the water." Logan dropped his arms around Wade's shoulders. "That was fast on the draw for the plug."

"I have a sneaking suspicion this has happened before."

"Hm." Logan trailed his fingers up and down Wade's spine. "Wanna go again?"

"Five minutes. Then I'm bottom this time. So get ready for me to be as bratty as possible."

#####

"Loooooooooogan." It was mid-morning. His boyfriend's voice was in his ear. His boyfriend's teeth were nipping at his skin. His boyfriend's hand was on his chest, now it was sliding down his stomach.

"I'm spent, babe," Logan said.

"I know, honey-suckle just trying to get your attention." Wade rolled on top of him, hooking his leg over Logan's hip. "We're not married. The license you found was, like…a gag gift. A souvenir. We never actually had them send it to the registrar..

"Yeah, I remembered while your mouth was around my dick."

Wade gently tossed his phone across to the other side of the bed.

"I found the text thread where I was pranking Laura with it."

"I don't think you ever showed me what she said.

"She said she was going to call me 'step-daddy' in a way that made everyone around us as uncomfortable as possible." Wade rubbed his forehead against his chest.

"That's my girl," Logan chuckled. "Haven't remembered why we were in Arizona, yet, though."

"Yeah. See. So I actually remember that pretty well, now. Um. I had the idea that we should be completely and totally away from anyone and anything we knew when we finished the memory wipe. I knew about a safehouse outside Ajo from my pre-cancer merc days. We just didn't make it, I think. Saying it back, though, I'm not following my own logic."

"Yeah, I have a memory of watching you snort a line of cocaine, but me not stopping you. So I think something about that first pill she gave us really fucked us up."

"Yeah, I'm remembering mostly everything, but there's about three days where the timeline just isn't…it just isn't, you know what I mean?"

"I think we're going to have to accept that some stuff isn't going to come back."

"I'm fine with that. All the important stuff did." Wade rested his face into the crook of Logan's neck. "So…how are we feeling? Now that we know why we did this?"

"I feel like we're idiots," Logan replied.

"Yeah…I actually do feel…extremely dumb holy shit Charlotte was right. I'm having such extreme clarity about everything. It's like going on an ayahuasca trip but worse, somehow."

Logan rolled over and pressed Wade into the mattress. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him. Wade stared up through his eyelashes up at him. Logan wrapped his hand around Wade's side.

"I think it's going to be a very long time before we retire from being badasses and have to worry about not having anything in common. So we can wait to worry about that then."

"Oh, you're assuming we'll still be together when we're old and decrepit ugly."

"I intend to be handsome 'til I die, so whatever you want to do is up to you." Logan pressed his lips to Wade's forehead. "But I know for a fact I'm having too much fun to voluntarily stop this any time soon. So unless you die on me…"

Wade lifted up and pecked him on the lips.

"Which we both know is extremely difficult. So, yeah, no. You're going to be stuck with me forever. Sucks to be you."

"Sucks to be me." Logan dropped down to lie on top of Wade, tucking his arms underneath him. Wade's arm came up around his back and he scratched his nails across Logan's skin.

"You know, we could leave Las Vegas properly married. Just make the appointment."

"Nah," Logan replied. "When we get married I want to do it properly. I want to remember everything."

"Hm." Wade replied, humming low and deep.

#####

When we get married. Not if. When.

when when when when when when

When.

#deadclaws #poolverine #deadpool #worlverine #fanfiction #deadpool x wolverine

24 notes · View notes

mamaspeckles · 1 year ago

Note

Venner is a fucking child

Instead of accusing me of nasty stuff and coming to me with this remark let me educate you because you seem like a chronically online individual. Here is why there is proof to believe that veneer is a older age in his teens.

This image shows the official wiki for veneer and his crimes

And if you look at his crime you can see that he was charged for fraud and tax evasion.

Reason 1:tax evasion and age

Tax evasion is an illegal activity in which a person(adult or 18-19 year old) or entity deliberately avoids paying a true tax liability. Those caught evading taxes are generally subject to criminal charges and substantial penalties. To willfully fail to pay taxes is a federal offense

Regardless of age, a company or a individual are generally required to file a tax return if they earn an amount of money that exceeds the basic personal amount but you do get charged as an adult if you are 18+ if you are a child with a job(15-16) you aren’t obligated to do your own taxes and your guardian would be in charge of it.

So why is this relevant?? Well that somehow proves that velvet and veneer are legal in age. But I do agree with the incest and minor x adult ship being gross but as for me writing about him or sexualizing isn’t a problem. So go worry about better things than worrying about a teen girl simping for a zest fest.

Reason 2: teens talk sex and have intimacy

I’m your teenager years, there are a lot of hormones coursing through a boy and girls body. This is necessary for puberty. However, because your body is so amped up with increased sexual hormones, you are probably getting sexual thoughts all of the time -some appropriate & some not appropriate. You can't help it. And veneer and velvet being canon teenagers probably think and even commit those acts( even if it’s a kids movie teens still think about and have sex)

Teens have sex all the time around the world so stop acting like veneer and teenagers as a whole are the Virgin Mary. I myself as a teenager thinks about sex and as you can see I write about it and it’s proven by doctors normal for teens to talk about it. Do not treat a literal pixel as a 5 year old who needs his mommy to hold his hands. Chill out bro. If you want to accuse me of being a full blown creep don’t use the anonymous option you coward.

Learn yo facts boo boo

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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thegreencooler · 2 years ago

Text

Amends

I don't usually dip my toe in the drama pool. At least not too deeply. But what's going on in fandom this week, the revelations, were extreme. The people who have come forward... they were in a cult. I am not being overdramatic about this. Gamifying harassment, forcing disconnections like Scientology, needing everyone to observe the same talking points or risk ostracism, leadership using it for money, criminal behavior towards those The Guru has deemed the Out-Group including members who don't conform heavily enough... That's a cult. The internet has made cult behavior REALLY easy. Likes and engagement make you suddenly aware of which direction your circle is leaning. If you agree, YOU TOO GET POINTS. You too will experience that sense of belonging, and that's what it's all about. So if your circle is being outright mean... if you don't want to be cast off as "not one of them"... maybe you say the mean thing too, even if it's a lie, even if you're not really sure why you're saying it. That approval feels SUPER GOOD and is addictive. And your circle amps each other up, gets meaner and meaner. The only people who stay in the in-group are those who don't speak up about the bad behavior and are willing to keep going along with it. Those aren't friendships. It's a pack of hungry carnivores. It's the same behaviors police gangs use on cops who speak up. I do have some sympathy, especially for the younger people who were still forming their identities. They were victims of indoctrination and criminal harassment. That said, they have to own their own behavior. I hope they learn and grow. They're going to have to have some self-reflection on what they've done, the lies told, the hate, the virulent -isms that were expressed, and literal crimes that were performed in the name of fitting in and winning some points with the clique. They're also going to have to reassess who their out-group is, why they even NEED an out-group over fandom things, and if there are still people in their schema who they have an impulse to hate for no reason.... because of a ship or actor preference. They're going to have to question all the lies they were told and if they are still holding onto hate based on that. That's hard if they aren't even sure what the lies were. It's going to be a process for them. We should give people the space and grace to get better. To deprogram themselves. But this does not mean there needs to be automatic forgiveness. Nobody needs to like anyone. But nobody needs to hate anyone either. Maybe the middle ground is we can grow some indifference or the ability to say, "I'm letting it go, this person is in progress, I can't control their journey, the ball is in their court."

If you were behaving badly, you've earned the suspicion of the people you hurt. A few of you are expressing amends, which is wonderful. But part of the thing with making amends is that you don't get to control the outcome. You make a genuine apology for EXACTLY what you've done, you own your part in it, and you don't make excuses... and from there, people may accept what you've said and they may not. They may forgive you immediately, they may take time, they may never forgive you. You have to learn to be good with that. It can be uncomfortable, to feel disliked, ESPECIALLY if the reason you got into the cult was because of that sense of belonging. Your impulse may be to keep giving explanations of how the group influenced you, to distance yourself. You may tell yourself, "I'm not that person, this isn't really me, it was the group." You want to be seen as CHANGED - virginal and new because you made the hard choice to finally leave the cult. ...It isn't that easy. You want the space and grace and you should get that. But guess what? You need to give that to others, too. You need to understand that people have real reasons to distrust you if you were exhibiting cruelty. And part of doing the work to make amends is the actual work. If you're serious about it, it means a lot of difficult self-reflection. You need to take an unflinching look at WHY you could ignore or participate in racism and lord knows plenty of other -isms, why outright defamation and death threats to actors and other fans were okay, why doxing people and trying to get them fired was seen as fair game, why trying to make someone feel hated and terrible about themselves was your impulse, why you were giggling and congratulating yourself for leaning into your worst impulses...until the group turned on you. Because that's the truth of the situation. You now have that self-knowledge of what you're willing to participate in. The question now is what are you going to do with that? I hope it includes therapy and I don't mean that glibly. I think it's possible there are some internet addictions going on where people crave the rush of getting Likes and engagement... and ragefarming is the best way to get engagement. If that's true... it will be EXTREMELY easy to move from the space of performing FOR the cult to performing AGAINST them, so that you can maintain your hit of Likes. And that is just sitting in the same behaviors. But if you're serious about getting better, if you're serious about being honest with yourself, you're going to need to fight against those inclinations. Please ask yourselves if you truly feel your apologies and want to change...or if maybe some part of you is just posting your attempt at amends because you want to fit in with those leaving or because you're craving that approval. Leaving is great! But are you getting the same psychological hit from your posts now? Are you trying to collect a new group that will lovebomb you because you're seeking self-esteem and miss the people who used to give it to you? I'm not saying this in judgment, I'm saying it because many people go from one cult or MLM to another, seeking that same sense of belonging. That's not my wish for you.

To the people on the other side of this... I'm not saying not to speak up if you see people slipping or people whose apologies are revealed as false words. I'm not trying to tone police people getting angry. There have been real reasons to be angry. HOWEVER... please be aware that if we want people to actually learn and grow we need to give them room to do that. There's nothing wrong with a really direct "This is really shitty and unkind behavior." Going scorched earth every time isn't the way. Is it our responsibility to motivate them to change, is it on us? Absolutely not. But are our actions going to unintentionally make them more likely to try and find a gang again because they're feeling defensive? If we also truly want to make things better, we have to ask ourselves what our goal is. Do we just want to give a tongue-lashing because we're angry? We might. And that can be justified sometimes in life. But cornered people don't often make great decisions. If what we want out of this is for people to be less terrible - there are ways to call people in and out, firmly and not sugarcoated, while still not going on the attack.

To the people who finally spoke up, you should be proud of yourselves for that. You took the first step. I hope you keep walking forward.

If you actually read to here... holy crap, I apologize. Many, many words, but I wanted to put them all down somewhere instead of continuing to overthink it at 3:30am. I do want to say... this is just my perspective. If it came off as trying to tell you how to do or feel, or like I think I'm perfect? Nah, kids. I'm a fallible screw-up, too, who is often "cringe," as the children say. We can all work on ourselves. At least that's the hope. If we're open to it.

Anyway. Love y'all, TGC

#supernatural #destiel #cult #spnfamily

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munsonmuses · 1 year ago

Text

Noise Complaint

Modern day AU

College Boy Eddie Munson x RA Reader

Inspiration credit to my dear friend Bug, who listens to my ramblings about being an RA at my teeny little university. And dropped the idea of Eddie being a resident. Thank you @munson-blurbs

Warnings: Shameless smut with light buildup, definitively just a bunch of hate fucking, p in v, oral (reader receiving) reader has female anatomy but isn’t referred to directly as a woman, light choking, creampies, light amateur bondage, Eddie is a shithead and kind of a bully (and kind of a kinky mf)

Word Count: 2.6k

This is mostly to tide y’all over until the next chapter of Spiritual Reserves

——

You carefully walked your weekly Thursday night rounds of the building, each floor more boring than the last. A menial task between desk shifts, programs, door decs, duty phone calls and staff meetings. Lightly drumming your hands along your hips as you listened to your music through your earbuds. Humming along to Moonwalker as you finished your rounds on the fifth floor. Keying into your room and flipping down on your bed, going to close your eyes.

Until violently interrupted by the incessant ringing of your duty phone, picking up and frowning deeply to yourself. “Thank you for calling the Creel Hall Duty Phone, what seems to be the problem?” You spoke in a customer service voice, carefully waiting before hearing a familiar sigh as you quirked a brow. “Nancy?”

Your coworker, Nancy Wheeler worked the front desk while you did rounds, and called you every Thursday around midnight. Each time it was the same thing.

“Hey um, Jason Carver called again, about being unable to stay in his dorm room, as his roommate is playing music too loudly, as always…” she spoke softly as you pushed yourself to sit up, sighing in frustration.

“Room three forty nine right? Down the west wing…it’s Eddie Munson? Again?” You asked, earning a confirming hum as you wished her goodbye and pushed to your feet. Slipping on your house shoes and making the trek down to the third floor.

As you descended the stairs, the loud screeching of an electric guitar through a well abused amp grew louder. Causing your brain to rattle as you grit your teeth. Pushing down the hall and stopping at the door. There was a white board stuck to the front, with a messily scrawled poll on it, something that changed each week. Likely Munson’s doing. Although a bit of a social reject, he took attention in any way he could get it. Much to your chagrin as you pounded on the door.

And again…

And again.

By the third knock, the playing stopped as the door flew open, Eddie Munson stood with a shit eating grin. Currently chewing on spearmint gum that wafted on his breath as you crinkled your nose. Wearing nothing more than black sweats wearing the schools logo, his rings, and his hair in a low bun. Tattoos littering his arms and chest, a tattoo of gnashing fangs on his ribs as you rolled your eyes.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Did someone narc again, or do you just wanna see me that bad, trying to sneak a free concert mmm?” He asked with a grin as you cleared your throat.

“You do this every goddamn Thursday. If it’s not loudly playing music? It’s you and your idiot friends racing the halls. Or you holding the main lobby hostage, or losing your id and getting locked out. It’s only ever on Thursdays. If anyone wants to see anyone bad, it’s you wanting to see me-“ you hissed as you jutted your chin towards the inside of his room. Signaling you wanted to be let in as he gallantly threw his arm out, gesturing for you to enter as he bowed lightly. Earning a sneer from you as he relished in your contempt. He drew a sort of joy from your anger in him, the attention was invigorating. In being refused love so much by his peers in high school, he’d learned to adore the hate that was sent his way.

Hate festers, it meant he was always in the minds who despised him, like a catchy commercial jingle from the early 2000’s.

He watched as you poked around his half of the room. Littered with posters, lewd art, and piles of clean and dirty clothes. The light smell of sweat, spearmint and pine coming with him as you scoffed lightly at him.

His amp was in the center of the floor right by the foot of his bed, something you clearly missed as you fell, landing flat on your stomach and chin on the cold tile with a sturdy thud. Groaning in pain as Eddie’s smile faltered and he immediately walked over, offering a hand to help you up.

“Holy shit I am so sorry, are you okay?” He asked as he held his hand out to you, watching as you took his forearm in your hand, before yanking him down as he met the same fate. Harshly hitting the floor as you laughed at him harshly. Snorting at him as he held his mouth, his two front teeth having lightly punctured his lip. Not enough to split it, but enough to draw blood.

“You are the only resident I have problems with…” you started as you glared at him harshly. “You’re loud, messy, pushy, you torment the hall-“ you continued as he glowered at you while sitting up.

Licking the blood from his bottom lip, he looked at you bitterly as he quietly listened, cutting you off.

“You’re a prissy, shrill, overly sensitive brat-“ he hissed, big eyes dark as he looked you over as you hummed.

“I’m doing my job Munson, I get paid to do this-“ you hissed as you looked at his lips. Full, pouty, with the crimson stain of fresh blood.

“You need to get fucking laid, maybe then you’ll pull the stick out of your ass-“ he snapped as he leaned in closer. “Stuck up bitch.”

“Idiot.” You hissed back, getting closer as you bumped the tip of your nose with his own, earning a growl from Eddie.

Your skin was prickling with heat as you stared him down. Trying not to fold as you felt his breath fanning across your lips.

Before you could fully process, he pushed his lips against yours. Harsh and feverish as you groaned into his mouth. The light taste of iron mingling with the spearmint in his mouth as you shuddered lightly. Letting him pull you in tight by your sweatshirt as you ran a hand up the back of his neck. Undoing his bun as you tangled your fingers into the base of his scalp, brown trellises of hair tangling around your fingers.

“I fucking hate you,” you hissed as you pulled back for air, glaring at him as he rolled his eyes. Discarding his gum and pulling you to stand with him.

Backing you up, he pushed you up against the metal and wood bed frame that held his shambles of bedding. Continuing his kissing at you as he pawed at your sweatshirt, getting it off and over your head as you shuddered. His hands so warm opposed to the cold trapped within the room.

“For a total bitch? You have great tits…” he murmured as he lightly took hold of them. Large and calloused hands groping and squeezing, earning soft whines and heavy breaths from you as he laughed. His thumb and forefinger taking hold of your stiffening nipples, lightly pinching and twisting as you whined out his name, clearly worked up as he laughed lightly to himself.

“You’re a lot nicer to listen too when you’re not bitching at me…” he mumbled in your ear, lightly nipping at the lobe as you shuddered harshly.

Trailing your hands down his chest, you worked your fingers down, stopping over the stiff outline of his cock as you lightly ran your hand over him and earned a light but deep groan from him. Working your other hand into his waistband as you went to work his sweats off. Earning a harsh pinch on your left nipple as you looked at him.

“We’re doing this my way. I’m in charge now.” He insisted harshly. “Now, up on the bed.” He pat your hip to motivate you, watching as you used the step stool to get up and sit on the mattress. Watching as he rooted around in his closet quietly.

He apparently found what he was searching for, coming over with a well worn black belt in hand. Quietly climbing into the bed alongside you as he hummed.

In silence, he took your wrists, wrapping the belt around them firmly, and around the wooden bar at his headboard. Pulling tight as he checked to make sure they weren’t so tight he’d cut off circulation. Once sure, he hummed in approval and lightly pat your cheek. “Good, you look so pretty like this…” he cooed down at you, watching as you chewed on your lower lip and nodded lightly. The confidence in you dwindling.

“You’re a lot prettier when you’re not making everyone’s ears bleed you cu-“ you were cut off by a harsh kiss, his hand lightly making its way up your stomach and chest. A gentle pressure applied to the sides of your throat. A gentle choking sensation applied as you moaned lightly into his mouth. Feeling his cock twitching against your thigh as you gave into the kiss.

Eddie pulled back for air, lightly patting your cheek as he released his light hold on your throat. Sliding his way back down to the edge of the bed.

His hands took hold of your waistband, working off your shorts and underwear agonizingly slow. Eyes trained on yours as you whined lightly.

“Hurry the fuck up-“ you hissed out as Eddie smacked your inner thighs lightly. Glaring at you as he rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking impatient…” he muttered before working his hand further in, humming as he lightly cupped you in his hand. Running his middle finger up your slit. Stopping at your clit as he worked in small, circular motions. Watching your face as your lashes fluttered and your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ shape. “There we go, see? I can do a lot more with these hands besides playing guitar like a fucking god…” he hummed out softly as he continued. Drawing soft moans from you as he nodded.

Applying a bit more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves, he laughed lightly as he gently worked on getting you relaxed. He was a dick, but he was considerate. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this…all pink in the face, mouth open…let’s give them some real noise to complain about,” you could see him cringe a bit at his statement, cocky and a bit cheesy.

He pulled your legs apart slowly, bowing his head down as he placed soft and deep kisses along your inner thighs and trailing inwards. His lips stopping at your clit as he pressed a slow and deep kiss to it, humming lightly as he tentatively listened for your reaction. Wanting to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable or unhappy with his actions.

“Eddie don’t tease…fucking hell.” You hissed as he laughed lightly. Taking it a step further as he lightly sucked on your clit, circling it slowly with his tongue and applying tentative amounts of pressure. Earning a full moan from you as he carefully worked on his middle finger. Pressing in slowly as he curled and flexed his finger. Getting you to cum first was his goal.

He kept his ministrations going, refusing to let up unless asked as he laughed lightly. Sending vibrations through you as you arched your back lightly, pressing further into his face. “Fuck! Eddie keep going-“ you demanded as he eased in a second finger. Beginning the slow thrusting and curling. Flexing his fingers apart as he increased the pressure on your clit. Feeling your walls flutter around his fingers as he sped up. Getting a bit overeager as your thighs clamped around his head and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as you cried out desperately, babbling. Eddie was right, you did need to get laid. The stress of the job was melting off your shoulders as the knot in your lower abdomen came undone. Earning a desperate cry from you as you came, soaking his mouth and chin as he hummed. Pulling his fingers out as he worked in his tongue slowly, humming as he made his way back up and eventually pulled away entirely. Sitting up as he looked at you.

“So fucking good…” he eased both fingers into your mouth, urging you to taste yourself as he hummed. “See sweetheart,” he crooned, laughing lightly to himself as he pulled his digits from your obedient mouth. Patting your cheek lightly and getting to work on removing his own bottoms.

His cock was undeniably hard, unable to be ignored as he hummed and slowly stroked himself. His other hand grabbing your chin and tilting your head down to get a look at him.

“Watch me. Don’t take your eyes off of me, I want you to watch me fuck you…” he ordered as you nodded your head lightly, watching as he lined himself up, and got to work.

Pushing into you, he groaned lightly. Watching as your mouth fell slack and lashes fluttered. Grinning in pride as he eased in inch by inch. Panting and rambling praise as he bottomed out within you. Holding your hips firmly in his hands as he lightly rolled his hips.

“So fucking gorgeous, you take my cock so well honey…” he took hold of your calves. Bending your legs up and back before pulling them upwards over his shoulders. Pressing light kisses to your ankles and calves, before biting down lightly as he took a deep and long thrust.

Your head fell back, eyes rolling back as you moaned desperately. Unable to fight the pleasure that washed over you in overwhelming waves. Moaning desperately as you clenched your fists and whined desperately. “Don’t fucking stop, good god-“ you growled out as you took each bruising thrust. Eddie was filled with lust and stamina, his hips knocking into the backs of your thighs as you grinned. “So good-“ you whined lightly.

Eddie laughed to himself as he listened, his thrusts deep and overdrawn as he rocked into you. Each thrust felt deeper than the last, the pressure building up was addicting. His necklace thumping with each thrust against his chest. Your breasts lightly bouncing as he drank in the sight of you. You were gorgeous underneath him. Fucked out and pliant as he pat your cheek.

“Don’t stop looking at me sweetheart. Look at what you do to me…look at how good you make me feel.” He ordered as he felt himself getting worked up, losing a bit of control as he grinned to himself:

He leaned forward, pressing your legs into your chest as he angled your hips upwards. Causing him to reach deeper inside you, grinning. “You’re squeezing me real good, see, you can be real nice to have around…nicer to look at from this angle at least~” he cooed in a patronizing manner as he grinned.

The cacophony of moans, thrusts, panting, and the creaking of the mattress felt ridiculously loud. Flooding your brain and making your brain feel like putty as the pressure in your abdomen grew. Stomach growing tight as you whined.

“Eddie? I’m gonna cum-“ you whined as he laughed lightly.

“Not yet honey, not till I say…” he insisted as he kept his thrusts going. Making sure to hold you firmly in place beneath him. He was drunk on you.

“I’m getting close sweetheart, so what you’re gonna do is cum with me…okay? Can you do that?” He punctuated each question with a harsh thrust as you nodded your head obediently. “Good-“ he hummed as he carefully sped up, leaning down ad he pressed impossibly deeper.

Nose to nose with you, he hummed. His breaths growing ragged as he held onto your chin. “Now-“ he pushed.

You let go, whining as a searing white wave of pleasure rolled over you. Your orgasm rocking you as you whined. Coming back from your delirium as you felt the heat of his own orgasm filling you. His light rutting causing some to spill over as you whined and groaned.

Pressing a light kiss to your lips, Eddie hummed. “Same time next Thursday?”

——

Taglist: Open

@munson-blurbs

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader

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jakekiszkashangnail08 · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter Two of Stars around my scars - Jake kiszka fic

word count:6150

phoebes note: Hope you enjoy feedback is very appreciated thank you for reading

Allison stirred in her sleep Her heart fell into her stomach as she almost fell off the Bench She sits up immediately gripping the bench with a fist " Allison?" She heard a Voice call from across the Street She looked up Seeing Sam and Danny walk across toward her Shit she thought She got up off of the bench and Pulled her backpack on fixing her hat She grabbed the store keys from her pocket and began unlocking the door "Allison?? Hello??" Danny repeated again.

They were now right behind her Allison turned around to face them Earning a Gasp from both of them " What?" She asked her eyebrows furrow Sam raised his hand to her cheek "Dude what happened? Your Cheek is fuckin bruised like hell!" She Covered it immediately "Nothing um-" "Why were you sleeping out here just now Allie... Are you okay? You never come to work this early." Danny cut her off

" Yes, I'm fine! God! What is it with you people and thinking I'm not okay all the time?!" She seethed through clenched teeth squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her fists A frustrated sigh left her lips "I'm sorry I-" " It's okay Allie let's go inside you've gotta be cold," Sam said looking down at her He places a hand on her back leading her into the Music store " Thanks Um-" " You don't have to Explain Allie It's okay. Just chill out behind the Desk and We will split your work alright?" Sam said Raising his eyebrows in an 'Okay?' She nodded "Okay.. Thanks Sammy."

Allison sat behind the counter picking at her nail polish as The Boys walked around checking all the Vinyls and Cds checking if they were in their right spots Sam didn't even work there but he had learned over the Few Months Daniel and Allison had worked there on what to do like Setting up Guitars and Other Instruments Danny began sweeping the floor when The Bell over the door rang Allison sat up looking over Greeting their first customer of the day. " Hey Welcome to The Rainbow Records How can I Help-" She met eyes with His Deep Brown eyes " Oh, Hey Jake.." She smiled weakly He turned away from her looking down at the First Crate of Vinyls near the door "Yo Jakey! Come over here and Help me with this amp!" Sam shouted causing Jake looked over at Her again then cutting off their eye contact once again walking over to his little brother a Smile immediately grows on his face as he saw Sam and Danny Their laughter rang through the Store making her feel miserable Allison watched them closely Seeing Jake work on the Broken amp Making jokes to make his little brother laugh

"What is wrong with you? and Be real with me because you know I don't judge." Danny Had come up and leaned against the Desk Looking at Her with a Worried Expression He tried to get her to look into his eyes he leaned down to see her eyes fully her left eye was almost swollen because of the bruise it must've swelled overnight. She hadn't realized how hard her mother had hit her. " I uh-“ She paused Rolling her eyes sighing “I ran away that's why I was um- sleeping on the bench outside... My Uh My mom." She pointed up to her Cheek " She hit you?" His eyebrows furrowing "Oh my God." He traveled behind the Desk And Wrapped her in his arms holding the back of her head "How long has this been going on?" He said talking into her hair still holding her

No one really Knew Knew that Allison was Abused at home Except Karen and Kelly and Now Danny knows. Everyone kind of just thought Her mother was a Strict bitch and Josh didn't even know all of the details She was just really good at hiding bruises and scars But whenever She hit her in the Face it was always hard " It's okay!... It's okay! because You can just stay with us okay? You can stay with us for however long you want to I'll talk to Karen she will let you stay." Allison Shook her head furiously "No Danny I can't I- I'll just go back home I can't just intrude on their Life She already has four teenagers living with her She doesn't need Five." " Six. It would be six cause I'm always over there... But you're missing the point you can't go back over there if your mom is being an abusive bitch." Danny leaned against the counter crossing his arms His face in that serious ‘You know i’m right’ look "I don't know Dan.. Maybe she's forgotten about it when I go back home it'll be better by tonight I know it will! She'll act like nothing is wrong!" the Bell Above the door rang again Making them all turn their attention to the door.

" Dovey... My Dove I have- Um What the fuck happened to your fucking face!" Josh Exclaimed running behind the Counter Grabbing Her chin and holding it moving her face all around evaluating her “Her Mom Hit her last night Sam and I found her Sleeping outside on the Bench." Danny filled Josh In and Josh Crossed his arms "Honey it was Below fifty degrees last night?!" Josh lectured "What were you thinking?? why didn't you come to our house?? You know you're always welcome there." Allison sighed " Because I didn't want to bother you guys... Everyone looked so Happy I couldn't ruin it." Josh furrowed his eyebrows "What on earth are you talking about? You don't ruin anything Dovey." He looked in her eyes holding her face "Now Listen, You can Stay at Our place I'll call Momma right now One second." " Josh-" He walked away dialing his mother's Number

"Hey Momma-" Allison turned away from Josh blocking out his voice Turning back to Danny "This is too much trouble I can't do this Danny Jake hates me right now. I can't-" "Why would Jake hate you? He loves you Man We all do. Come on Don't think so negatively all the time." Danny squeezed her hands then walked away to Sam and Jake

Jake had got the Amp working he Strum the chords of the guitar playing a Familiar tune He was playing Valarie the Amy Winehouse song she had played Last night Allison could feel his eyes on her when she looked up His eyes were fixated on her but then went back to the Guitar She swallowed dryly pushing that aside She looked down at her open backpack seeing that same Polaroid from last night Picking it up She stared at Jake in his frozen photo form " Dovey, Momma said you could stay forever if you wanted to" Josh smiled coming Back from his phone call " Hey... What's that?" He looked over her shoulder at the Polaroid in her hand and smiled at it Reminded of that night " You did keep it. Ha! Sammy looks crazy in this doesn't he." He turns it toward her eyes She just nods clearing her throat again "What did you have earlier when you came in?" she asked His face lit up "I have a Gift for you!" He smiled cheekily "a Gift? Josh you didn't have to?- Oh my god??-" She got cut off by him raising a golden Star necklace He smiled at her "I have the Sun necklace You have the Star and Jake has the Moon... I thought it was cool since we've been friends the Longest you know? It's like Trio shit and You don't have to Wear it if you don't want to-" " Uh Yes I'm going to wear it?? Hello?? Here put it on!" Allison turns around raising her hair into a fist Josh strung it around her neck having trouble getting the latch to connect "My big ass fingers-“ He fought with it some more and then “Alright there we go! Spin for me." He smiled as She dropped her hair back down Spinning around towards him The Golden star sitting over her shirt

Josh's grin turns into an open-mouthed grin "It looks so good!! Let's go show Jake-" Allison shudders as Josh grabs her hand pulling her out from behind the counter "Uh Josh I don't know let's wait he's busy right now-" Now she stood straight in front of him he had the matching silver moon on showing on his Bare chest his navy buttoned up shirt the top two buttons unbuttoned He looked up looking at his Twin "What's up Josh?" He had ignored her completely "Look at Allies Necklace It matches ours." Josh Smiles pointing to His sun and then to Her Star Jake finally took a look at Her His eyes on the Golden Star then up to her face Something in his face moved She saw it his expression had changed somehow without even moving "What happened to your face?" He asked Her stomach twisted "Nothin." She replied sheepishly He turned again back to Josh "I thought the Necklace was for Sam?" Josh's grin faded "No.. I told you at the Shop that it was for Allie.. Daniel and Sam already have matching braclets I thought we could have matching necklaces..Remember?" Jake looked back at Allison with a Sour expression " don't think I want to Match jewelry with a Person who doesn't keep their promises." His glare deepened when He stood up walking past her bucking her shoulder with his own Her heart splintered slowly watching as he walked away toward the Front Door

"Well, I'll see you guys at home.." and with that he left walking out of the door the bell chiming.. Allison turned back around towards The Three others Sam and Danny Side eyeing eachother with wide eyes Josh stood there with his hands on his hips " What the hells going on?" He turned looking down at Allison "I- I said I was sorry" She rubbed her face mumbling the rest "I don't know what else to do Josh." Josh sighed " Don't break your promises then Allison and maybe he won't be mad at you." Allison dropped her hands Looking at Him " Are you Kidding me Josh..? I cant handle you being mad at me too I- I Yes! I snapped at him I can't help it you know I can't we've-" She huffed out a Breath "We've talked about this before.. I promised all of you I know and I'm sorry I just can't help it..i'm trying!!" She shouted at him tears streaming down her face "I'm trying." she said finally storming out of the Store Sam Just turned around Sighing"She will come home later on tonight.. Just let her go for now we don’t want her to feel worse."

—

Allison walked beside her bike towards the Kiszka house it was now about 12 o'clock at night She had school tomorrow well today really.. They were seniors Finally Sam and Daniel were Juniors She stood at the Top of the Road Should she stay there? Or go back home to to the wretch that was her mother. The December wind blew through her causing a Shiver and we’ll that alone had made up her mind. She then rolled down the Hill and swerved into the Kiszka Driveway walking up the Porch stairs and Knocked on the door waiting for someone to come to the door She turned watching the Road The Door clicked and Opened She turned around Sam stood there Bare chested with Red pajama pants on "I knew you'd come. Cmon everyone's asleep except me and Josh.." He smiled pulling her inside They walked through the house to the Garage Josh sat in Sweats and a Sweater on the Orange couch "Thank Fuck.. I was Worried you went back to your moms." Allison dropped her bag on the floor and walked over to Him sitting beside him on the Couch hugging him She started whispering all these apologies to him whispering all the words she could find and say and She slowly fell asleep laying back on his shoulder exhausted Josh looked up at Sam "Toss me that blanket please." Sam picked up the blanket but didn't toss it he covered them up as best he could "Night Josh." "Night Sam."

—

The Next morning Allison had woke up her neck hurting from the abnormal position she slept in She felt her hair matted against her face and groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes. The events of the previous night came rushing back to her, and she glanced around the garage, realizing she was still at the Kiszka house. Josh was still asleep beside her, his peaceful expression bringing a small smile to her face. She carefully untangled herself from him, trying not to disturb his slumber, and stood up, stretching her stiff muscles.

As she made her way back into the house, she found Sam in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He looked up when he heard her footsteps and gave her a warm smile. "Morning, Allie. How did you sleep?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Allison yawned and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. "Not the most comfortable, but I'm grateful for the shelter. Thanks for letting me in last night Sammy." Sam nodded, his gaze lingering on her. "Of course, Allie. You're always welcome here." Allison sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Things have been rough lately, and I just needed to get away for a bit you know?" Her hand fighting the urge to cover her bruised face Sam shook his head, his expression filled with empathy. "You know we're here for you, right? Me, Josh, All of us." Allison nodded, feeling a lump forming in her throat. "I know, Sam. And I appreciate it more than you know." the sound of footsteps echoed through the house, and Veronica appeared in the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She glanced at Allison and Sam, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Morning, lovebirds," Ronnie teased, causing Allison to Chuckle and Sam to roll his eyes."We are not lovebirds," Sam retorted, trying to hide his own blush. Allison chuckled, grateful for the lightheartedness. "Yeah, Ron, don't jump to conclusions." Ronnie smirked and poured herself a cup of orange juice. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say."

—

As the morning continued, Allison found comfort in the presence of the Kiszkas. They shared breakfast together, laughing and joking, momentarily she had forgotten about her life. In that Moment being at peace for once. Until He trudged in His Eyes landing on her He rolled his eyes at her turning towards the stove grabbing his plate and sitting down beside her on her left while Sam sat on her Right "Good morning Jake." Allison said looking down at her plate of bacon He made a noise that sounded like a grumbled growl "Jake don't be mean." Josh stabbed his fingers into Jakes side Causing him to glare at his twin "Ill be mean if I wanna be mean Josh." It then got Awkwardly quiet

Allison looked up from her plate when Karen started talking again, "I can't believe it's your last senior semester, It feels like just yesterday you were just starting Kindgarten Oh my Babies. I remember when You all met Allison for the first time Both of you were so Smitten for her.. Still are." "Momma.. That's embarrassing." Jake groaned Josh agreed, "time really flew by. But it's also kind of surreal that we're almost done. I can't believe that we only have a few more months before we're off to college." Josh grinned showing off his pearly whites Jake rolled his eyes, "Please, can we not talk about college right now? I don't want to think about it." Allison nodded, "It's scary we all have to start thinking about our future soon." Jake chuckled Finally looking at her in the face "Oh please Alice we all know you can't afford college."

"Jacob Thomas Kiszka!" Karen shouted throwing her napkin down on the table top pointing her finger at her son her face screwed up in anger It was clear that Karen was fed up with her son's behavior, and she was ready to lay down the law. As a mother, She had seen the way Jake has treated Allison over the Years She was Fed up it was like he was bipolar or something.

"Jacob Thomas, that is enough. You are not going to behave like this in my house," Karen said sternly, her face set in a serious expression. "You will apologize to Allison right now, and you will start treating your her with respect. She has it a Hell of a lot harder than you do Buddy and You need to get a Grip Son and I mean it. Do I make myself clear?"

Jake who had his fork in a fist and a scowl on his face, looked down at his plate, clearly feeling ashamed of himself. "Yes, Momma," he muttered, looking up at his mother Allison was grateful for Karen's intervention. She had always felt welcomed in their home and considered Karen a mother figure, but this was the first time she had seen her discipline her son in such a way or anyone for that matter. It made her feel valued and cared for, and she knew that she could always count on Karen to have her back in any situation She had saved her when no one else would.

Karen turned to Allison with a warm smile. "You've got a bright future ahead of you, and I know you'll achieve great things. I'm proud of you." Allison smiled back at her A Knock sounded at the Door "Must be Daniel." Karen then Got up walking to the door to let the boy in "m'sorry." Jake mumbled

Allison smiled a tad and shrugged "it's whatever You're right anyway." She finished eating patted his shoulder and walked back to the Garage and Got some clothes out of her Bag and walked to the Bathroom and Changed as She brushed her hair she thought about Jake and She knew she had hurt Jake but she had no idea how to make things right. She wished she could just take back her words or reverse time, but she knew it was too late. She kept replaying the argument in her head, wondering what she could have done differently. She had never meant to hurt Jake like that, but she had let her anger get the best of her. But then she started to think that She did nothing wrong and He was overreacting but then again This was her fourth time snapping at him and he didn't deserve it But whatever she thought I'm not gonna dwell on it She walked Out of the bathroom turning the Corner into the Kids bedroom hall all their Rooms were in one hallway and the other side of the house had Karen and Kelly's bedroom She headed for Josh’s room but she was stopped By Sam "Hey Allison?" He stood at his Door as if he was waiting for her to pass he kept rubbing his hands on his jeans and then Running a Hand through his hair "Yeah?" She asked coming towards him "Um.. It's okay if you know-“ He coughed “You don't want to but Y’know how The Snowflake ball thing is coming up?" He had made eye contact with her Finally Causing him to stutter a bit "Uh I was wondering and Uh-" He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut at her almost like it was painful to say what he said next. "I was wondering if You would go With me?” he asked “and Danny? like a friend thing?" he added and opened up one eye to look at her the other one still squeezed shut Allison nodded and smiled "of course! I'd love to go Josh doesn't do School dances so That's perfect." Sam smiled widely "Really? You mean it?" Allison Nodded "Duh I'd love to go with You and Danny It'll be fun!"

"See you in the garage After school?" She asked "Maybe I don't know." He said tapping his finger against his chin and acted like he was in thought She quirked her eyebrow her hand coming out to tickle him "I know! I know! Jeezus Those nails!! I’ll See you in the Garage!" He ran into his room and shut the door

Sams eyes froze onto the back of the door and then it hit him like a Wave He started leaping up and down and then danced around his room silently Then he awkwardly stopped and cleared his throat He fixed his hair into a Low bun and pulled on his shoes and grabbed his school bag and walked out towards Jakes truck Josh and Allison had already left in Josh’s car Danny sat up front so Sam got in the Backseat

"Allie said Yes to the Snowflake!" Sam Gripped Danny's shoulders and shook him slightly "Really? What did you say to her?" His Curly haired friend turned in his seat to hear giving his Best friend his full attention "I told her that me you and her were all going together." Sam smiled "Why'd you include me??" Daniels eyebrows knitted together "I thought you wanted to be Her date why am I coming?" He added

" I got nervous! What was I supposed to do?" Sam exclaimed Jake rolled his eyes as he drove them to school "not ask her out.. It's going to be a boring night for you Sammy Boy." Sam looked at his Older brother "What are you talking about? Why are you being so rude anyways? She's been through enough she doesn't need you as extra baggage." Sam seethed becoming protective over her immediately Jake laughed "Oh yeah? What has she been through?" Dannys Face scrunched up that set him off immediately " She’s being abused Jake. That's what and If you were a Good fucking friend you'd be there for her, She doesn't need you to be a fucking dick to her all the time She's practically Homeless right now She got Punched in the fucking face last night because she came to Your Show." He spat "Your Fuckin show. She didn't have to come but she Did Because She cares about you Man and you treat her like she's Gum on the bottom of your shoe." Jake didn't look at him he just focused on the Road "Well tell her to start being truthful and Not break the promise that she swore to us all."

Danny scoffed "What fucking promise Jake? She can't help the way she is?!" He was throwing his hands around as he spoke "She has an Explosive disorder! you don't help it at all! Of fucking course she's gonna blow up on you because You are a Fucking Asshole!" Sam nodded at Danny agreeing with everything he said "Treat her better man.. She's one of the Sweetest girls we know and For you to just treat her like shit all these years really Ticks me the Fuck off. Fix your shit Jake." Danny Demanded They were now parked so Danny got out and slammed Jakes truck door Hard and Walked off towards Allison Marcy and Josh who stood near the Gate. Jake looked at Sam in the rear veiw mirror "Hope you have fun at the Dance." with that he got out and walked into the school.

Sam watched as his brother walked away, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. He had never seen Danny lose his temper like that before. He knew that Jake was being unfair to Allison but he didn't know how to get through to him and He also really didn't know why Jake hated her so bad.

For as long as he could remember His older brothers and Allison were as thick as thieves but then all of a Sudden Jake started getting distant from Allison and he constantly made snide remarks about her when They talked about her around him or Straight to her face and then they'd be fine again.

He didn't know that Her mom was the way she was Sam had never met Any of Allisons family She never talked about them the only time she would was when she'd say Something like I need to go home My moms worried and so on.

after his history class He made a beeline for Allison's locker, hoping to catch her before class started. He found her there, grabbing a book she needed for their Music class. "Hey, Allie," he said, trying to sound casual. "You ready for Band rehersal today?" Allison turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Sam, hi. Yeah, I guess so. you okay?"Sam hesitated. "Yeah, I just... I just wanted to talk to you about something." Allison nodded, her expression serious. "Sure, what's up?" Sam took a deep breath. "Jake... Uh he's been really horrible to you lately and I just want you to have fun at the Snowflake Ball Don’t think about him cause he’s being an asshole but i know you care about him But i’m just saying that You deserve to have a good time don’t let him ruin things for you." Allison's eyes widened but she then smiled "Thank you Sammy That’s Sweet." His heart felt like it was gonna hop out of his mouth by the way it pounded against his throat "Of course, I don't want my Best girl to be upset all the time.. I'll try and talk to Jake maybe He'll back off with the Asshole remarks." Just then the bell rang Sam ran to his locker opening it quickly grabbing his music book and watched as Allison made her way to their music class feeling a sense of relief as he watched her turn into the door. He knew he still had a lot of work to do to convince Jake to treat Allison better, but he was glad that he had finally said something. Sam couldn't help but grin all the way there excited for the Snowflake Ball. Sam walked in and took a seat next to Allison. She greeted him with a bright smile and he noticed that her eyes seemed to sparkle in the light They had a Tinge of Green in the brown. He help the feeling in his stomach and the pang in his heart as he looked at her. Sitting next to her, he couldn't help but notice the way her hair fell around her face, and the curve of her smile. He had to remind himself to pay attention in class, but his mind kept wandering to thoughts of her.

—

Sam and Allison walked together to their next classes. Allison asked him how his day was going, and he nodded along as She ranted to him about her Solo in Theater and all he could think about was how He desperately wanted to ask her out, but he didn't know how.

the bell rang So Sam and Allison went their separate ways. Sam couldn't stop thinking about Allison's smile and the way she twirled her hair when she talked. He knew he had to ask her out before it was too late, but he was too afraid of being rejected. During lunch, Sam sat with His brothers, Danny, Joey and Their Drummer Adam, who were discussing the Band. Although Sam was interested in the conversation, he couldn't help but think about how much better it would be with Allison sitting next to him. —

Allison stood on stage practicing her solo As Sophie from Mamma Mia It was the Opening number Josh hadn't been casted in this Musical because he wanted to Direct it He sat in the Audience listening to Her sing He would occasionally tell her to move around so he could teach her the blocking he had laid out in his mind She had finished singing her last song and Bent down to take a drink of her water Josh gave her an Applause standing up Clapping Dancing around a little as he walked up to the stage "Wonderful as Always Dovey!" He smiled She smiled back at him "Thank you Josh." She sat down on the stage as he came closer " You know what happened this morning?" She asked Josh He shook his head " Nope.. What happened?" Looking at her with his full attention When Josh looked at Allison it was like you could see the whole world in his eyes they were always big and bright and just beautiful to look at "Sam asked me out to the Snowflake." She sighed looking down at her water bottle "Mm." Josh hummed biting his bottom lip nodding crossing his arms "What'd you say?"

"I said yes of course? I couldn't break his heart he was so nervous.." She sighed " I just don't know though because I need to fix things with Jake and This is going to make it so Much worse." Josh frowned " Why would that make anything worse?" Allison shrugged "He’s like territorial? I don't know and I assured him that I don't like any of you more than the Other..Well I like Danny more then all of you But-" "Hey! That's not Fair?!" Josh Exclaimed Making her Laugh loudly " I'm joking! I don't have a favorite." Josh looked up at her with a Sly look on his Face "Oh?" She looked down at him a smirk on her face "I don't have a favorite," she repeated firmly, "but if I did, it would be you." Josh smiled at her, his cheeks turning pink. Allison felt a flutter in her chest as she looked into his eyes. He was such a sweet and caring person, and she loved spending time with him She caught his hand in hers and swung it back and forth.

Then, she remembered Sam's invitation. She felt a twinge of guilt as she thought about the situation with Jake. She didn't want to hurt either of them, but she also didn't want to miss out on the opportunity to go to the Snowflake Ball. She sighed loudly. "Josh, what do you think I should do about going to the Snowflake Ball with Sam?" Josh's expression turned serious. "Allison, you can't let other people dictate what you do. You have to make your own decisions based on what you want." Allison nodded, feeling a sense of clarity wash over her. "You're right, Josh. I'm gonna go to the Snowflake Ball with Sam, and if Jake has a problem with that, then he'll have to deal with it." Josh nodded. "Just be honest with him Tell him to Fuck off He has no right to be Upset." Allison smiled. "Thanks Josh. I appreciate it." Josh smiled back at her. "Anytime, Dovey. That's what Im here for."

"Now Let's take it From the Top!"

—

Allison Walks into the living room proudly showing off her gorgeous Red dress to The Kiszkas and Daniel.

"You look beautiful, Allison," Sam says, unable to stifle a smile. "you're glowing," Danny adds, smiling at her They both Stood in Matching Tux's With Red button up shirts and Black Ties. "Thanks." Allison says, feeling her cheeks turn red. Allison feels Jake's eyes on her. But she Ignored him It's not the first time he's given her this sort of attention and she's used to it. tonight there's a different edge to his gaze. He watched as she pinned Sam and Danny's Boutonniers on their jackets How Sam looked at her so lovingly as she was hard at work pinning the flower on him She didn't see him looking at her.

Allison turns around and Smiles Getting in the middle of Daniel and Sam putting her arms around their waists "Okay! Now we are ready for the Picture!" Karen said smiling wide Josh stood Beside his twin in his Pajamas Jake stood in His Tux He had Decided to Go because They didn't have a Car and Sam had begged him to drive them there and Back So he had decided to just go.

The Twins Watched the Trio get their Photo Josh bumped Jakes Shoulder with His own and then leaned on Jakes Shoulder "Reds Really Her color Dont cha think?" Josh asked Jake nodded "Always has been." The trio did different poses for Their Mother until she was Satisfied "Okay You guys go Have fun! I love ya!" She smiled Josh nodded "But Not too much fun right Momma?" She nodded "Please No drugs." Which made Everyone laugh Josh Was behind her Mouthing words to Allison and Making Motions with his Hands.

"If you smoke without me I will Take you DOWN." He mouthed harshly Pointing his finger downwards Dramatically with his face all screwed up eyes wide making her Giggle she blew a kiss at him "Joshua Michael! What are you Making fun of me right now?!" Karen turned around to her Oldest "No Ma! Of Course not!" He smiled The Four walked out of the House Jake walked Towards his truck Unlocking it Allison and Sam hopped in the Back and Dannt Infront seat "I hope they play some Actual good music." Sam Spoke starting conversation with Danny He leaned forward over the Middle Console As Jake drove he would look at Allison through the Mirror She was always looking at him aswell and That would make him look away immediately. —

Allison walked out of the gym, taking a deep breath of fresh air. As she looked back inside, Jake's gaze met hers. He looked at her with such intensity, as though she was the only person in the room. There was an emotion in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. Is it anger? Or something else? She wasn't sure. Sam walked out of the gym towards her, two cups of punch in his hands. He stood in front of her, his face screwed up with concern. "Hey, Allie, you okay?" he asked, handing her the spare cup of punch. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's just..." Allison paused. "It's just that the gym is really stuffy and sweaty, isn't it?" she laughed. Sam smiled and nodded at her. "Totally agree. I mean, is our school that broke? They could afford some type of AC or something, am I right?" Allison nodded and took a sip of punch. "Are you having fun?" she asked him. Sam nodded. "As long as you're having fun, I am." This made Allison blush Sam took her hand and began to led her back inside the gym. "Come on, let's dance," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. Allison nodded and allowed herself to be led. As they made their way to the dance floor, she saw Jake watching them like a Hawk But She brushed it off.

As they began to dance, She closed her eyes and felt herself sinking into the music, into the moment. The world around her seemed to disappear, and all that existed was the warmth of Sam's hand in hers, the sound of the music, and the feel of his body against hers.

For a moment, she forgot about Jake and the complicated emotions that she felt towards him. She was fully immersed in the moment, fully alive and happy and As the song ended, Allison opened her eyes to see Sam looking at her, a smile on his face She smiled. "What?" She asked "Just looking at you." He said "Why?" She asked and then He drug in a Heavy breath "Because I couldn't Bare it. to- T-To look at anyone else... You are The Sole star in my Sky Shining so Brightly right infront of me and I just can't help but look at you." Allison was taken aback by Sam's words. She had never heard anyone speak to her in such a way before. She felt a warmth spread through her chest as she looked back at him. "You're...you're something else, Sam," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"I mean it." He Said " I mean It. Wholeheartedly Allison." He sucked in another breath and Looked at her again " This May seem stupid But In this moment.. I find myself Stuck in your eyes Lost in them.. My Troubles Have Dissipated You have casted a Spell on me. My Thoughts always turn to you You are the- The Beacon in My Darkness and I've-" He shut his eyes His voice trembling "I've- I just can't hold in how I feel About you anymore Allison I- You are always on my mind and You don't have To Worry or Say anything Back to Me Just know that I will do anything in my power to make you Happy." He started stuttering " I- I'd." "I'd Walk on my hands.. I'd do Cartwheels.. Hell I'd Climb a Mountain to Get you the Flowers from the peak!" He smiled His Eyes met hers again "Anything for you I will Provide it."

Allison gazed up at Sam, amazed by the words coming from his mouth. She had never heard anyone express their feelings so beautifully her eyes filled with tears. She had no idea how to respond, but she wanted to let him know how much his words meant to her. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, "Thank you Sam." she laid her head on his chest and With that Sam was Content.

The two of them stood there, holding each other, lost in the moment. It was as if the rest of the world had disappeared, and they were the only ones that mattered.

—

thanks for reading :) Taglist: @girlattheseaside @edgingthedarkness @wildbluesorbit @wetkleenex-gvf @oliver-mf-reed @woyayaofdreams @blankvz @hollyco

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