#and yes they can move if there’s a band to move

[sparrow-and-seed-scrawls]

They grabbed the silks and jewels, pocketed the gold coins, filled their empty wineskins with the king’s finest, most sapid alcohol. Their old rags were abandoned for warm furs and leathers, and the youngest, barely older than thirteen, threw his too-small shoes to the side for a pair of fine boots.

All that time, they left Lora Isold bleeding on the marble floor, both arms tied so she couldn’t escape and her mouth gagged with an old tunic.

No matter that she’d been the one to get them passed the guards. No matter that she’d healed their sick with her last bottle of medicine. No matter any of it. They hadn’t even had the mind to give her a single coin.

She was used to pain. She’d bled on expensive floors before. It was the fact that she was going to die here, next to a young, naive king with a snapped leg. She was going to die with no payment and no honor, and that made bile rise in her throat.

The band of nobodies cleared the last of the treasure and slung packed bags over their shoulders. One of them, a Skilled young man, drew water from the air with a twist of his wrist and threw it over the fire. Winter chill filled the room almost instantly.

“Sorry, Sweet,” the leader said, leaning down to run a calloused hand through her hair. As if she were a child. “Your help was much appreciated.”

He set a golden goblet next to her face, so close she could feel the metal chill on her cheek. “Hope that’s worth your trouble. Maybe they’ll pity you a few drops of rum at the tavern, if you can make it there.”

His green eyes sparked, and he took her bound hand in his. Then he lit a flame in his palm.

She cursed behind the gag, her free hand grasping for any sort of brace against the heat. There were none.

He held the fire there for several moments, not even caring enough to look at her while he charred her skin. And when he finally did let go, he didn’t say a word. Just shook the fire out and spun on his heel.

He shot the king a sour smile. “Perhaps, if you still had your staff, you’d wouldn’t be dying such a humiliating death. Let’s go, men! The people will be glad to know their Unskilled king is finally dead.”

And then, it was Lora and the King Solari.

The king who’d, apparently, been living alone in the palace for who knew how long.

The king who simply stared at the now-empty throne room, his hair tangled where the people had yanked the crown off his head. His breathing was ragged.

He wasn’t in much better shape than she was.

His leg was broken, she knew that from the sound of his scream and the crack of earlier. But blood trickled down the left side of his face, red staining his lips in a way that looked much like he were a jester instead of a king.

They’d carved a picture into his dark cheek, Lora realized with a start. Intricate slashes gave way to the royal family’s seal, a shield with a scepter in the center and lined with laurels.

She hadn’t seen that seal in sometime. They’d carved it with reason, certainly. But she had no idea what that reason was.

She was a mercenary, yes, but this was far beyond anything she’d seen in her circles. This robbery—this wasn’t the sloppy work of a band of nobodies. This had been planned.

And she’d written them off as innocent and a bit stupid. Even naive.

That was hilarious. Truly, she hadn’t the slightest inkling that they were more than a handful of poor citizens trying to make something of themselves. She hadn’t realized their leader was a Skilled. Which was her own fault. She’d given out the fact that she was Unskilled too freely.

The king finally found her gaze. He used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his skin, flinching slightly.

And he began to drag himself towards her. Slowly, using the palms of his hands and hissing out sharp sounds every few moments when his leg weighed behind him.

Lora tensed each time he did. A broken bone was a white-hot, screaming ache. You couldn’t move without it shouting its presence. So what was he doing?

He stopped a few steps away from her, eyes unfocused for a moment. When he finally steadied himself, he offered a weak laugh.

“I suppose we’re both expendable, hm?”

What?

She just stared at him. It wasn’t like she could respond very well, and even if she could, how was she supposed to respond?

Yes, they were both expendable to the adventurers, no matter their deeds or titles. They were probably expendable to most of the kingdom.

He reached a shaking hand up behind her head, and Lora was quite certain he was about to grab the knife from her belt and finally end her.

She waited, keeping her breathing steady. He would die soon after her, anyway. Without medical care, he wouldn’t make it for more than a handful of days.

The gag fell away from her mouth, instead.

She sucked in a full breath of air, the scent of blood and smoke and dust flooding her lungs. Her exhale came out on a cloud amidst the winter air. “Loosen the bonds on my hands,” she demanded, doing her best to keep her tone gentle despite her frustration.

He must’ve been too drunk on pain to chastise her for disrespect, because he did it without a word.

He was a bit unsteady in the cold. He pulled the rope over her burnt hand more than once, leaving her to bite her cheek to keep from making noise. It hurt.

But then the rope loosened, and she could see the dark skin of her palm and fingers. A steady burn, halfway up her forearm and fairly deep. It would take a time to heal.

With her good hand, she loosened her belt. Slid the pack and knife off and to the floor. Lifted her tunic to see the wound clearly.

She didn’t care enough to examine it. It hadn’t bled much, and it wasn’t deep. It was the burn she was more worried about.

Still, she pulled a worn map of the kingdom from her pack and laid it carefully over the wound, then wrapped the belt atop it so she had a horribly loose, unclean bandage of sorts.

Actually, she couldn’t even call it that. It was more of…

She didn’t have a word for it. Either way, it was an embarrassingly bad job, especially for her skill set.

“Glad to see you appreciate my kingdom,” the king deadpanned, staring down at the map wrap.

Oh. Oh.

“I’m not considering patriotism at the moment. I can die, if you’d prefer,” she said.

He lifted his stare to her, brown eyes narrowing slightly. His blood-stained lips tightened.

That probably was a bit too harsh, given the situation.

He bit out a half-delirious laugh, then, so sudden it made Lora jump. It seized at his chest and choked from his throat. “Perhaps you should! Perhaps you should, and then I can die without the humiliation of someone seeing me so bloodied with a forgotten seal carved into my face!”

She didn’t find the humor in his words. Yes, she’d wanted a new ruler for as many years as he’d been king. But she hadn’t come here to kill him, especially without a better alternative. That was a fool’s errand.

She’d only come to serve as a guide and perhaps show the kingdom their king wasn’t as powerful as he made himself to be. Then, perhaps, the people would elect a new ruler.

But if Solari died now, there was no replacement. The first to reach the throne would take over the kingdom, and that was certainly a worser fate.

She sucked in a breath. “Let me see the leg.”

“Why? So you can cut it off?”

A surprised laugh broke from her lips. “No, you egg, so I can set the bone.”

“To steal my bone?” He shot her an incredulous look. “You’re going to take that, too?!”

Yes, he was certainly delirious.

“No, just—” How was she going to explain this? “I’m going to fix it for now, until we can get to a healer somewhere.”

“Ah.” He nodded violently. “I know a healer.”

Lora didn’t doubt it.

She didn’t try to converse with him any longer. Instead, she handed him a flask from her pack.

“Drink. It’ll help the pain and bring your head back.”

He looked between her and the flask, then to the goblet at her side. “Give me that.”

She rolled her eyes but obeyed. He poured half the contents into the cup, lifting it in his hand and spinning it like some sort of rich wine. Which it most certainly was not.

His face twisted when the alcohol passed his lips. “This is certainly not wine.”

“It’s cheap alcohol for disinfecting.”

“Cheap?” He drew the goblet away, but she pushed it back to his lips.

“Finish it.”

He did, slowly, his eyes flicking and his hands unsteady. She couldn’t tell if it was the cold or the pain anymore.

“Do you want some?” he asked after several minutes, holding out the empty goblet. He was still pale, but at least his words sounded steady.

“No. I’m trying to fix your leg with the little focus I have left.”

“If you insist.”

She only had one good hand, so the task was going to be immeasurably difficult even without alcohol.

Even so, she took the tunic-gag to use as a splint of sorts. She anchored herself on one side of his leg with her knee and placed her good hand on the opposite side.

“Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t make a sound. This is, more than likely, not going to be enjoyable.”

“Joy,” the king deadpanned.

Lora pushed the bone back into place and wrapped it as tightly as she could manage.

The king cursed, his face going even paler than before. He sucked his teeth.

“Joy…”

Lora sat back.

Now, they simply had to find a healer without either of them dying of infection.

Joy.

——————

Merry Christmas!!! I think I’ll make this into a multi-part story.

Yippie!

Let me know if you want something specific in it. I love requests 🫶

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[bruhstation]

hello tumbled er

greetings and salutation. it is I, senja heterocaine, speaking to you through your favorite home screens. now you might be wondering: where on earth has senja heterocaine disappeared to these past 5 months? well the answer is as simple as it gets

I focused on my studies.

well yes that is the main reason. but that's like the nerd "obvious" answer. there’s other reasons too. some of which includes me getting into new interests, revisiting my old, hibernating interests, getting involved in university organizations and events, getting more involved in big family stuff since I'm the oldest and the only of-age grandchild of grandma from mom's side.... lots of stuff

so I just finished the third semester of premed school right. honestly speaking, with how I was losing motivation on drawing, the art block post-art fight, and lack of time, I decided to well, take a break. and it’s pretty convenient too since it was early on in the third semester. during the entirety of it I was feeling pretty proud of myself like "oh I've been studying a lot. I've taken a break from drawing and blog stuff. surely things will get better" and it did! not immensely but it's significant enough that for once I don't feel an indescribable sense of terror after the semester ends. the focus of this semester was about reproduction systems and growth and development which is pretty fun? we get to use models and medical phantoms hands-on and poke them with needles and other rube goldberg contraptions. I did miss breeding bacterias in petri dishes and seeing my friends burn the microbiology lab’s ceiling like last semester though. my grades are also improving… slowly but surely

(aftermath not pictured: me lounging on the couch scrolling through quora to see if there are people currently in college wanting to drop out)

maybe I was aiming too high. at least my grades are better than the previous two semesters and my social life is much better than it was back in high school. speaking of exams -- I went through my first osce exam around a week ago (practical exam to see if you can actually perform the skills labs lessons from the entire semester like you're a real physician). it was the most terrifying day of the month. my dentist said I have a big tongue and that’s why I can’t speak properly if I’m being too fast. ntm I WAS NERVOUS!!! MY FIRST OSCE!!! with how I memorized everything I needed, I was pretty confident that I'd pass, though. I didn't and retook the exam the next day. the prelude was the worst crash out ever

ah ptooey. I'll just take it like a champ. my tutor who's 3 years older than me and currently in the anesthetic rotation of co-ass told me that things will get easier but that's very subjective. he's a medical olympiad student after all. my parents are pretty happy though with how my academic life is becoming better so that's that

LETS MOVE ON TO SOMETHING LIGHTER. section B: what I've been getting into ever since bruhstation was put on cryostasis

you know Transformers One (2024)? the transformers movie directed by josh cooley? based on the Transformers(tm) franchise by Takara Tomy and Hasbro? most tragic break up movie of the decade? I watched it twice, squealed once, and left me broken and inconsolable for weeks on end. it made me revisit my dormant transformers interest after 5 years. I've reread the idw comics (mtmte, LL, taao, main transformers comic), and is currently checking out more (reading the wreckers saga right now). god it made me miss rodimus and friends' zany space opera adventures. I've always envisioned casa tidmouth to have the same tone as mtmte... the oftentimes dark humor, fridge horror stuff, weird magic/science, the roller coaster of emotions, confronting the past... its crazy good.

stories where misfits and knuckleheads band together in a confined space while having crazy doctor who-like adventures am I right. like I want casa tidmouth to be like that. remind me to thank 14 year old me for this trip down memory lane. and as usual, I tend to make self-indulgent crossovers of any interest I'm thinking about at the moment with casa tidmouth

a terrifying sneak peak on what's to come.

I've been working on my oc projects too. you may have seen some of them on artfight (graciela, saudade, altair, etc) but I've been focusing the most on graciela and saudade's universe, children's heterotopia. it has the largest amount of characters in any story I've created (not counting casa tidmouth), the most effort put into planning the stories and weaving in its themes about capitalism, patriarchy, period-typical bigotry, etc. there's human experimentation and they're given powers that range from punching super hard to time and space displacement. I also inserted whatever I wanted into the story. sure, yes, there's a lesbians-only organization of which its members are named off the knights of the round table, theres a mafia that focuses more on the family drama and attempted parricide from all angles, and tragic assassin maids of which their names are wuthering heights references. also if you've been following my main tumblr hajimedics for a while, you might've seen my three fairly oddparents ocs. well I've given them the tezuka star system treatment and inserted them into children's heterotopia as well.

I've also gotten into UTAU production! I've made a number of UTAU covers but haven't uploaded them to youtube. only shared them around with my friends on priv twitter. a good friend of mine assisted in the creation of my own UTAU voicebank! their name is TORKA (like "torque"), their voice bank has a slight accent when singing in japanese (because I'm their voice lol) and CV-only, their in-universe lore is that they're an intergalactic train conductor picking up wayfarers and outcasts trying to find a place in the vast universe, and I love them dearly

moving on! this is a thomas the engine and company blog THIS IS A LIFE UPDATE POST

I'd rather not discuss about how I'm doing mentally in deep detail BUT what I'll say is that I can't confidently say "I'm doing better" or "I'm doing worse" because it always depends on the days. things are okay-ish nowadays. some days are scary. some days are boring. I still experience delusions, (ironically) worried about my anhedonia, and believe that certain bouts of confidence will trigger a jinx, but I think I've been controlling myself well? at least? I keep internalizing the belief that I'm an adult. 20 years old. I have to act accordingly and my life in real life is ten times more important than the internet. things are going to change more and more once I graduate premed and began the co-ass program. I have to think 10 steps into the future. building successful connections before you turn 30. sigma grindset and all that. sorry that was my father using my body as a spirit medium

AND ALSO. ALSO. BACK TO THE BLOG DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME I PROMISED TO MAKE A COMIC BASED ON THE RESULTS OF THE 1000 FOLLOWERS POLL AND NEVER DID UNTIL NOW. I'm terribly sorry. I promise I will get into it I SWEAR procrastination is kicking my ass. I have to plan the dialogue and script and stuff AND DRAW BUT

BUT HERE’S THE FUNNY THING

THE BLOG REACHED 2000+ FOLLOWERS A FEW MONTHS AGO

NOW WHAT DO I DO TO CELEBRATE?

I don’t know honestly. I haven’t done the 1000+ followers celebratory comic, and NOW I HAVE 2000+ FOLLOWERS. THERES 2000+ OF YOU NOW!!!!! THAT’S CRAZY (IN A GOOD WAY)!!!! I thank you all for sticking with bruhstation through thick and thin for around 2 and a half years. I’m glad for all your support, fanarts, asks, and such truly. like wow. 2k. in such a short time too! thanks guys. admittedly, I feel kind of guilty to leave everyone hanging for months with nothing to give, especially with such a high follower number. and realistically? I don’t think I’ll be able to draw as much as I used to. like I’ve said earlier, I’ve been busy with my personal life and oc projects. it’s not like I’m abandoning this blog any time soon? I’m just speaking from a logical perspective, given my status as a student and (possibly, hopefully) future doctor too. I don't want to burn myself out posting like thrice a week, answering asks daily, I want to take things slow. at my own pace. maybe I'll focus on designing side characters as well and thinking about their roles in the story! but that's for another day. I’m just glad everyone’s still sticking around and enjoying my silly stuff

I do want to draw more for this blog! I want to put thomas and co. in more situations. make them dance for all our entertainments. but when you’re an adult, you realize that you have your own priorities. you can’t always do the things you wanna do. you can’t just drop something you don’t like out of the blue. sometimes you have to sigh, scratch the back of your neck, and brave it while saying “I sure am getting old”

oh and also I'm a butch lesbian now. still he/they (heavy preference on he/him), still preferring masculine terms like "mr", "sir", "guy", still as crazy as ever. still aroace too and not interested in dating, something that's been a constant in my identity ever since I'm in early high school. little have changed I can assure you this. I am still senja. senja heterocaine from the net.

and thus concludes senja’s life update post! what will the next post after this be about? something gordon-centric again? serious colored art? old men yaoi? silent hill UK localization? place your bets. everyone loves a good laugh

[kiestrokes]

Day 21: Star Lost | NSFW

▸ Idol: Lee Felix of SKZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: WIP, smut, neighbor's to lovers AU. ▸ Vibe: This is a much further excerpt of an eventual smut, gamer/model!Felix that is incredibly loosely (and lovingly) inspired by the comic Let's Play by Leeanne Krecic. ▸ Warnings: language, beginnings of an established relationship, brief body insecurity.

Sexually Explicit Content: slight body worship, encouraging Felix, morning after sex, sexual intercourse (penis in vagina), sight orgasm control, soft dom!Lix (I wrote this for @chans-room and their dom!Lix agenda), multiple orgasms,

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is wipmas) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. Sorry its late, I am fucking exhausted at the tail end of this holiday season.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

You’re woken up the next day, nude and draped across his body. You go to move and Felix grumbles. Tugging you up his body for some lazy morning kisses that quickly escalate. He guides your hips to straddle him as you fumble around for a shirt.

“What are you doing?” Lix rumbles as he kisses your jaw.

“I need a shirt if I’m going to be on top.”

“No you don’t, I want to see you. If you're comfortable with that...”

You nod, the nervousness quickly being overtaken as his hands glide up your stomach to cup a breast while the other guides his cock to tease your entrance.

“Sit back a little,” Felix breaks off into a gasp as you instantly comply, his eyebrows converging as you tilt your hips to sink onto his length.

“Ugh fuck-” you shudder, bracing your hands on his chest to roll your hips to nestle him inside.

Your neck snaps back at the feeling, breasts thrusting forward in his face.

Felix grunts in approval, “again.”

You do, again and again until you chance a glance at Felix his eyes flicking between your working pelvis and breasts.

He feels your eyes on him and meets your gaze “you’re so beautiful.”

Heat crests across your cheeks as his baritone of approval goes straight to your cunt.

You widen your knees, watching as Felix clenches his teeth. Hissing. His hands dig into the flesh of your ass and valley where your thigh meets your hip. Urging your forward, quicker with a brute strength that still amazes you.

“That’s it,” he bucks up into you and you toss your head as his cock hits that one spot perfectly again and again.

Felix laughs softly, leaning forward to nuzzle his face between your breasts. Hand gliding up your back between your shoulder blades to grasp a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck. You cry out, body shuddering at the sensation as Felix drives his his hips upwards, thighs slapping lewdly into your ass.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes!” You whine.

“Good,” Felix sighs long and ragged as your bodies drive towards a mutual release.

His hand in your hair tightens and you moan at the feeling, his lips teases your ear as he whispers, “want you to come all over me, before I lay you down. Can you do that?”

Felix ducks his head to lick one softened nipple sending it into a stiff peak before repeating the same to the other.

“Yes,” your hips stutter as the rubber band of pleasure pulls tight, too tight.

“Look at me,” you do as you shake with tension, nails embedding in his back as you start to fall apart.

His piercing gaze, the usually massive pools of warm chestnut have been overtaken by an abyss of black as his pupils are blown wide displaying his blatant lust for you.

“Oh!”

The same intense tension that made your body shudder, causes your body to fall limp, but Felix has you. Laying you down and slowly stroking you through the reverberations of your orgasm.

His own body tense as he holds off his release, seeking more from you first. To feel you clench and gush around his stiff dick. To feel your body heat up and radiate against his. Felix moans at the thought, sitting back on his calves to circle his hips against yours.

You glance at his stomach, his abdomen littered with your release and understand. He did that. You did that.

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

reader working as a part of the crew and her and IV thinking they are sneaky with their "hidden" relationship by sneaking around each other before and after the shows with kisses and stuff but in end everyone already knows and just makes them think they are doing a good job. I just need Ivy fluff 🥺

Not a secret

It wasn’t that you had a genuine reason to sneak around. There were no rules that band team members to mingle with each other. It just… it all felt so new. Too new. And being in that little bubble felt more secure even if you wanted to scream all about it. You were just finishing sorting out iii’s gear when you felt two arms sneaking around your middle.

“Hey”, Ivy muttered, pulling you closer into his chest. His lips leaving soft kisses against your neck. “Hi”, you mused back, letting your body melt against his. His fingers softly turned your head as he pressed his lips against yours. “Ivy”, you muttered in warning, pulling back.

“Quick one”, he whispered, leaning in once again. “Hands off”, you tapped your palm against his chest, stepping away from him only for Ivy to grab your hips as he pulled you closer to him, caging you against the wall. “You like it”, he smirked, letting his fingers trace your jaw. “Yes, but not here”, you pointed out, letting yourself glance around the corridor.

“You didn’t come to see me all day”, Ivy shook his head. And you haven’t. The preparation for the concert tonight had been chaotic, to say the least. You had felt your phone vibrating in your backpack but you simply haven’t had the time to check it. “I had to help out iii”, you shrugged, letting your arms fall over Ivy’s shoulders. “Don’t like the sound of that”, he shook his head, “will have Billy switching with you”. You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Cause that’s not sus at all”. Ivy shrugged, “No just a switch to test your strength”. “Mhm…”, you hummed shaking your head.

“You smell so nice”, Ivy muttered again your shoulders, “Ivy…”, you warned him once more yet your fingers moved to run over his neck, softly scratching his skin. “Let me breathe you in”, he grumbled, going all dog sniffing mode similar to what Cinnamon his lab did every time you came back home. “You’re insane”, you giggled, “You better be sleeping in my bed tonight”, he muttered looking back up at you. “You know that I'm sharing with the girls it would be so weird”, you shook your head. “I can’t sleep when you’re not in my arms”, he whined, snuggling up against your shoulder.

“I can…”, but you didn’t get to finish as the sound of the side door opening filled the hallway. You quickly ducked behind the boxes, Ivy leaning against the crates as if he was just randomly chilling in the middle of the hallway. “Another sound check in 10, man”, ii walked straight past, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, on my way now”, Ivy cleared his throat. “Hair is a bit messy”, iii pulled at Iv’s hair. “Yn, you could do better than that, love”, your body froze as you watched him slowly leaning over the box. II’s laughter filled the hallway. Iii slowly waved at you before tapping iv on his chest and walking away. “The fuck just happened”, you whispered. “I think they know”, iv muttered, sinking to sit beside you. “But we were so…”, the sound of more footsteps made you both fall silent again. “Hey, lovebirds”, Vessel shot you both a wink as he walked past. “Yeah, they know…”, you sighed. “So you are sleeping in my bed tonight right?”, Ivy asked, making you shove at his shoulder lightly.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia Silver's father telling Eric Venue that "Hey we should found NRC Single Father Alliance, and I can totally share with you my babysitting and cooking tips!!!"

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Single Father Alliance?” Eric lowered his sunglasses. Surprise danced in his glittering violet eyes.

"That's right~" chirped the short man beside him. He kicked his legs playfully, as if he were seated on a playground swing and not a luxurious sofa in the Pomefiore lounge.

Eric crossed his legs and laced his fingers together, setting them on his thighs. He angled his body forward slightly--showing interest, but not full commitment. As a seasoned star, he knew how to wield his clout and charm like weapons.

He brushed a lock of flaxen hair from his forehead, switching roles. The kind, doting dad was stashed away, and out came the business whiz and movie star tycoon.

"... You have my intrigued. Tell me more about your proposal." His tone was friendly, but his words had a hefty weight to them. It was as if each was a brick, laid down one by one to craft a fortress.

"Most parents or guardians come as a pair." Lilia held up two index fingers, making them touch. "There are challenges only we as single fathers experience and understand. Is it not wise, then, for us to band together? There is strength to be found in numbers... and in sharing knowledge."

"Hmm, you make a strong case." Eric stroked his bearded chin. "And you made mention of sharing your babysitting and cooking tips earlier? I take it you are confident in those skills."

"Certainly! I'll have you know that I frequently host my son's childhood friend. I once nursed a bat back to health before releasing it into the night. For a short while, I even tended to a very special egg." Lilia giggled, a proud smile spreading on his lips. "My cooking is second to none! One bite is all it takes to knock you out and send you straight to heaven!"

"Really!" Surprise lit up Eric's famously handsome face. "Your resume sounds about as stacked as the elite nanny I hired for Vil in his childhood."

"My, a nanny?" Lilia's eyes crinkled. "Mmm... I suppose it is a necessity for a man as busy as yourself. But if that's the case, perhaps you won't find much use for my tips."

"Haha, don't be mistaken. I did rely on hired help back then, but I do make time even now to spend with my dear Vil. Movie outings, arts and crafts at home, spa nights..." His gaze softened, and there was a real warmth threading his voice. "After all, he's the apple of my eye--and he always will be."

Lilia clutched at his heart. "... Such a pure, true love. Kufufu, yes, yes, having an honorable man like yourself on the Single Father's Alliance would put my weary old soul at ease. It would reassure me that our future is in safe hands."

"Weary old soul? You barely seem a day over high school age yourself."

Or at least that's what Eric thought. Most of the time when he snuck a glance at this chap, he seemed young. The height, his mannerisms. But his voice and the advice he dispensed with it was deep and worn with wisdom, and sometimes creases and wrinkles appeared where they weren't before.

"I can share my anti-aging secrets with you as well," Lilia offered with a cheeky wink.

"You drive a hard bargain--but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. It's not that you don't make a tempting offer or that I think I'm the perfect father. It's that my Vil's an adult now, and I want to give him that time and space he needs to grow and learn... without me stepping for him. I'll be there for him if he needs it, but Vil's path is his ultimately his own--end of story."

"... What a shame." The fae slowly shook his head. "That's alright though, I accept your decision on account of that moving speech you delivered. That, and I could tell from listening to you speak that you already know what you're doing."

There is nothing left for me to teach you. I know you'll be able to figure things out on your own.

Lilia curled a hand against his chest.

To have a father such as you... Vil is very fortunate indeed.

[sapphiresandferrari]

Sweet encounters

Pairing: Eddie Munson x oc!reader

Summary: Eddie meets the new student, and he inevitably falls for her

Warnings: none, pure fluff and slightly simp Eddie

A/N: hi, I finally wrote a new fic, about Eddie Munson this time.

I hope you will like it and, as always, comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated, let me know your thoughts, please, it helps me improve

Also English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if I made some mistakes or typos

Enjoy 🫶🏻

Eddie hated early mornings, he absolutely hated them.

The only occasions he woke up early without a groan and a big instinct to kill the first person in front of him, were when he had to drive to go to a concert or to shop for new records and band shirts.

Other than that, he utterly disliked waking up early, his brain doesn’t start to function until 11 am.

However, this year Eddie was focused and determined: he wanted to graduate, so he could finally leave this town for good and try to make it to the music scene.

He knew his band was good enough to make it, sure they need way more practice, and definitely a bigger crowd than the 5 drunks at the Hideout, but they could make it, he knew it in his bones.

In order to graduate tho, he had to put lots of effort this year, so that means waking up on time and actually show up for classes even if they were boring, do all the assignments (possibly on time too) and most importantly, try to get at least all D.

That's why every morning he woke up with a living will up to 0 but he was stubborn: he wanted to graduate and he will.

After drinking the biggest cup if coffee known to mankind, he hopped on his van and drove to school.

He checked his schedule and headed to the chemistry lab.

He arrived surprisingly early, so he could sit alone and doodle in peace, until he heard the chair beside him moving.

He turned his head and saw a girl, curly hair, all pink and laces, never seen before, she looked at him, her eyes wide, scared "is this seat taken? Can i sit here?".

He couldn't belive his ears, was she aware of his reputation? Did she know anything, honestly?

He couldn't tell, so he simply told her that yes, the seat was free and she could stay there, turning back to his doodles.

"Oh thank you, I'm new you know? Ao i don't know anyone and everyone here seems to be pretty close to each other and i saw you alone so i thought i could sit here but then I thought it was better to ask cause what if you were waiting for someone, and...maybe is better if i shut up"

Jeez she talked a lot, but Eddie found it somehow cute, she looked like a lost kitty, he didn't know if he should try to be friendly or keep staying silent and let her go.

She didn't seem to have things in common with him so he didn't see the point into trying to be friends, but she also looked scared and he could help her, at least at the beginning.

"Hey calm down, is fine, i wasn't waiting for anyone, the seat is all yours", she nodded at his words but he could see in her eyes that she was worried, on edge.

He felt bad for her, maybe he sounded too harsh than he wanted to, the poor thing was already scared to death, he definitely didn't make it better

He decided to try again "so first day...you must be nervous" she looked at him, breathing heavy "I'm more than nervous, I'm terrified, i was actually excited to start school even if I don't know anyone here, and yes, Hawkins isn't Chicago, but i thought maybe i could make some new friends but then as soon as i entered school everyone looked at me like i have three heads and...I'm rambling again, I'm sorry, I talk a lot when I'm nervous...but also when I'm not nervous...to be honest i just talk a lot, 'm sorry"

Eddie definitely never met someone like her, she was the cutest thing he even seen.

He smiled, she was so different from the other girls in Hawkins, he wondered if they had anything in common "is okay really, i get it, i moved to Hawkins too, few years ago, so i know how you're feeling, I'mEddie by the way" he could see her eyes glowing at his words, her breath steadying "yeah being the new student sucks, but it seems i already made a friend, I'm y/n, nice to meet you Eddie" she smiled back at him, before focusing on Mr Ripley, ready to start his chemistry lesson.

Eddie didn't see her for the rest of the day after first period, so he couldn't wait to see her during lunch break, he hoped to spot her so he could invite her to his table

She didn't show up at the cafeteria, leaving him disappointed, wondering where she was.

He met her again for Mrs O'donnell class, during last period, she was sit alone writing on her notebook.

Eddie immediately sat besides her, he couldn't believe that they were together for this class.

"Hi, i didn't see you all day, you disappeared or something?" She jumped when she heard his voice "oh hiiii, I'm so happy to see you again, I was hoping we could share more classes together but i didn't see you in history and spanish, oh and then i got lost on my way to the cafeteria and ended up in the library so i ate there instead while i read my book" Eddie laughed, her excitement over literally everything made his heart flutter "sweetie i'm sorry you got lost and I'm sorry i couldn't help you, did you ask anyone for help?" Hearing this, her smile faded a little "i did actually, i met a small group and asked them where the cafeteria was, but the indications they gave me were for the library"

Eddie couldn't believe it, it was her first day, why were they this mean with her already? He can't wait to graduate and stop seeing these jocks faces again "oh sweetheart, those are idiots, gimme your schedule, i will walk you to every classes from now on"

Y/N tried to tell him it wasn't necessary but he didn't want to listen to it, he decided in that moment that he wanted to protect her, no matter what.

And Eddie kept his words, he would walk her to every class the next morning and for lunch he straightly led her to his table.

He couldn't wait to introduce her to the hellfire and maybe, if he was lucky, she would want to know more about DnD.

But his sweet, sweet Y/N surprised him once more: turned out that not only she knew DnD, but she used to play with her friends back in Chicago, she had a character of high class and level.

"I'm so excited that you guys play too, i was worried i had to stop playing but I'm so happy i found you, can i join the next session? If you're okay with that of course, i don't want to intrude, you know...if you're already far along on your campaign" everyone at the table started shouting "if we are okay? You must join us, our fair maid, is been a while since a cutie like you joined us and to be fair, I'm tired of always do the female voices" Gareth reassured Y/N and Eddie didn't like his flirty tone.

He knew he just wanted to make her feel comfortable, and he also knew that if he told him about his interest for y/n, Gareth would back off immediately, but Eddie still couldn't help but feel jealous at their small interaction.

He quickly noticed how she nice she was to everyone, so he wasn't surprised that she got along with the Hellfire club as soon as she sat down on their table.

"I really can't wait for you to join our sadistic campaign, but I'm afraid we might have to postpone this Friday, the drama club needs the room, so I will keep you posted on this guys, milady" Eddie informed his little sheep

"Oh well if you have an issue with that, we might do the session at my place, both my parents work the night shift so is just me and Pluto at home" Eddie grinned at her words "Aw sweetie, that's nice of you to offer you castle for our session, and Pluto? You named your dog after Mickey's dog?"

"Dog? Pluto isn't a dog, is my black cat, I named him after the Poe's short story, especially since my baby is also missing one eye, like in the story"

"That's sick baby, you have a one eyed cat? And I didn't think you liked Poe, I thought you were more of a Austen girl"

Y/N giggled, she was totally expecting this reaction "yes Austen is amazing but I love Poe's work a lot, I try to not stick to one genre only but to keep my books collection varied, currently I'm reading Salem's lot and The hobbit"

"The hobbit? Girl, please, you have to stop, or I'll fall for you more than I'm already doing"

Y/N blushed, she wasn't used to men flirting with her, and whenever it happened, she just got embarrassed and they gave up in the end, but Eddie seemed to be obsessed with her since they met and she couldn't help but wonder if he was actually interested or if he was having pity of the new girl.

Either way y/n couldn't believe she found new friends so early and that also played DnD, she was so excited.

Friday evening couldn't come sooner, y/m spent the afternoon baking brownies amd cookies, she wanted to make them feel comfortable and what's better than something sweet to fuel the brain?

Besides all these boys definitely were hungry.

Eddie's mouth watered at the sight, he doesn't remember the last time he ate something sweet that weren't candies or chocolate bars, and definitely didn't remember the last time he ate something homemade.

The session went incredibly well, they all had fun and y/n was a big addiction to Eddie's club, he felt truly happy after a long time.

He finally found a girl who wasn't afraid to be herself, and mostly, that seemed to like him a lot and wasn't afraid to show it.

He couldn't wait more, he needed to tell her that he liked her back, he needed to show her how much.

That's why he stayed after the session, he said he wanted to help her clean everything, when he actually wanted to be alone with her.

"So, how did you find everything? I hope you will join us for the next session" Eddie asked her while he was taking the plates away

"Oh, I thought I was part of the club already, of course I will join you for the next session, I had so much fun, you're an amazing dungeon master, Eddie the banished" and with that Eddie couldn't help himself anymore "do you want to go on a date with me? Tomorrow or whenever you want?" He blurted out, he planned to ask her in a smoother way but he genuinely couldn't wait anymore

Y/N blushed at the question, she thought he would never ask, and she answered with way too much eagerness "oh yes, I would love to, we could go to the drive in or the movies or the arcade, whatever you want really, I like everything and I know I will have fun because I love spending time with you, sorry I didn't mean love I meant like, yes I like..."

Eddie loved listening to her rambling, she was so cute when she was nervous like this, so he decided to put her out of her misery and simply do what he thought was the best way to calm her nerves: he leaned and gently pressed his lips on hers.

When they separate, y/n whispered "you kissed me" still in shock "yeah, sorry maybe I should've ask is you were okay with that or wait for our first date" Eddie replied

Hearing this, y/n chuckled and kissed him again, this time with more confidence, and in that moment, Eddie understood that she wasn't planning to go anywhere, and neither did he.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Present Morning

christmas mornings are always beautiful, especially when your husband starts the day by eating you out in the comfort of your warm bed.

and that was exactly what was happening right now.

“toji… ughhh!!” your husband had your legs pulled up to your chest, one arm firmly holding them in place, while his tongue was busy lapping up your slick walls.

toji fushiguro knew exactly how to worship you. to him (alongside his son), you were the most precious thing in the world. you were the unattainable, flawless, utterly divine queen he could only dream of serving. and he, your loyal servant, devoted to you every hour, every minute, every second of his life.

his tongue moved along your dripping, slippery walls with practiced precision, pulling out moans from your throat. his deep, masculine groans vibrated against your core, intensifying the pleasure to the point where you pressed your face deeper into the soft pillow beneath you.

your husband kissed your folds wetly, sucking on them with fervor before releasing them with a sloppy pop. his free hand moved to trail his fingers along your sensitive entrance.

“such a mess… every time my tongue touches your swollen walls, it’s always the same.” his rough voice rumbled against your skin, his fingers teasing your entrance while your restrained moans filled his ears. the cool touch of his wedding band occasionally brushing against your core sent shivers down your spine. but when his thick middle and ring fingers pushed inside, you let out a loud cry.

“fuck, babe. your pussy is so warm and eager, just like always. fuck―fuck.” his fingers moved inside you with a steady rhythm, unhurried but purposeful, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could. each time he found your g-spot, his fingers curled just right, coaxing even more intense waves of sensation. the calloused tips of his fingers brushing against your soft, sensitive spot created a delicious friction you couldn’t get enough of.

“love… y-your fingers are too… big oh god—” they always felt like too much for you. toji was a big man, and his 8.4-inch hands were just one reminder of his size.

of course, his hands weren’t the only large part of him.

the slick, obscene sounds of your wetness filled the dimly lit room, faintly illuminated by the morning sun peeking through the curtains. you caught a glimpse of the smirk curling his lips. toji never played humble when you brought up his size—he knew exactly how much of a man he was.

“huh, is that so? but you love it, don’t you, wife?” his fingers stopped their slow rhythm and began to move faster. one of your hands flew up to muffle your cries as he teased you further, his tone dripping with mockery. “i know how much you love my fingers. the way you take them so greedily every damn day, the way you suck them clean after you cum, and how you clench around them when i spank your ass while i’m fucking you. fuckkkk—every little thing about them drives you insane.”

“yes, yes, i love them more than—more than anything, toji,” you gasped, your words soft but clear enough for him to hear.

his fingers thrust faster into you, and as his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, your hands gripped the headboard tightly. his warm, wet mouth sucked on the throbbing bundle of nerves while his tongue drew circles around it. every movement of his fingers inside you was deliberate, precise, and unrelenting, matching the intensity of his mouth on your clit.

he would never give his queen anything less than perfection.

“are you close, ma? because i can feel it—you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” his deep voice resonated against your core, pushing you closer to the edge.

“uh-huh. mmph—please, love, i want to cum, please, please—UGHHH TOJI!” with your legs still pinned to your chest, his fingers pressed hard against your g-spot, coaxing you over the edge.

your back arched as waves of pleasure wracked your body, your hand muffling the loud cry threatening to escape. your climax washed over you, soaking his fingers as he held your trembling legs firmly in place.

as your husband finally released your legs, they fell limp onto the bed, completely spent. he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to your lips, slipping them into your mouth while he lowered his head to lap up the juices spilling from your entrance.

you sucked on his thick fingers eagerly, your tongue swirling around them as his head lifted. with a grin, he leaned down to kiss you deeply, his lips tasting of you.

“ready for my cock, ma?” he asked as he pulled away, his lips glistening with saliva. but just as his hand reached for his cock, a loud crashing sound from the living room made him freeze.

“what the fuck was that?” he growled, instantly getting out of bed and throwing on the nearest piece of clothing. you scrambled to do the same, your heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and fear as you both rushed toward the sound.

your mind immediately went to the worst possibilities. had something happened to megumi? was this one of the disgusting traps laid by toji’s awful family?

but when you reached the living room, the sight before you revealed the culprit—your six-year-old son, standing amidst the chaos of a toppled christmas tree, clutching a red, gift-wrapped present with his name on it. his wide, fearful eyes darted between you and toji.

while you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, your husband muttered under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, "this kid is doing everything he can to make sure we don't give him a sibling." that was all it took for you to burst into laughter.

megumi still looked terrified, clearly expecting a scolding. but you walked over, scooped him up in your arms, and peppered his cheeks with kisses. “looks like it’s time to open our christmas presents,” you said, smiling warmly at him, thankful the only chaos this morning was caused by your mischievous little boy.

a little note: i hope there aren't any mistakes. i couldn't do proof reading because i'm sick :(

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[niallerspayno]

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

Masterlist

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

…

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.

...

Author's note: I hope you liked it! Let me know if you'd like me to turn it into a mini series and have a Part 2!

[olderthannetfic]

There have been a number of asks over time here about non-native English speakers' feelings about porn in their native language vs in English. The consensus seems to be that one's own language, whatever it is, is tacky and unsexy while English is just better suited to porny fanfic. This seems to have more to do with context and familiarity than about the inherent sexiness of any given language.

I have a funny analogous perspective to add to that. I'm a native English speaker and most of the music I listen to is not in English. I'm not fluent in another other languages, but have enough familiarity with the ones I listen to a ton that I can muddle through some lyrics in the liner notes or make some educated guesses about the accuracy of a machine translation.

It's not 100% non-English lyrics, though. There're just enough specific songs with English lyrics or bands within these genres who default to English that I can make a good comparison, and what I find is that within these genres, lyrics in English feel shallow and campy, while lyrics in literally anything else feel evocative and deep and meaningful.

I don't feel this way about poetry in English, or even about English folk music. It's just music in a genre where I'm used to not hearing English that English sounds ineffective to me.

It's the same thing. English is hum-drum and normal to me and it feels odd using the language of everyday life in a context where I'm expecting expressions of things that are anything but mundane.

If I could read a non-Engish language fluently enough to read the fic, I'd probably feel that it was better suited to porn, too.

--

Ah yes, the experience of deep and moving lyrics 90% of which are just the word 'habibi', I know it well.

[phoenixinthefiles]

I’m bored, AND have writer’s block so here’s some info on the Batfamily-Reality-TV show-No Capes AU that exist solely in my head (the name is long I know)

Bruce adopted Dick the same way he did in canon but Jason’s adoption story changed a bit.

Jason met Bruce when he was about five when he tried to steal a toy and ran into crime alley to get away from the shopkeeper. Bruce paid for the toy and helped him look for his mom and the rest was history.

When Catherine died, it had already been established that Jason would move in with Bruce should said situation transpire. So at 8 years old, Jason became a Wayne (not in name)

Talia and Bruce were dating throughout that time and they married a little before Jason was officially adopted m. (Dick did not approve)

2 years later the adorable heir to Gotham’s throne was welcomed into the world

2 years after THAT Dick and Bruce had their canon falling out and Dick left to LA (or jump city, it’s undecided)

A year later Bruce and Talia called it quits, the media were shocked, everybody wanted to know the scandal behind the separation of Gotham’s it couple.

Then tragedy struck, Jason had been reunited with his birth mother but she owed money to some very unforgiving gangsters. Sheila didn’t make it but after dying for 2 minutes, Jason pulled through. (Heart stopped not dying but yk)

He was in a coma for six months. During which time a certain Timothy Jackson Drake was placed into the emergency custody of Bruce Wayne.

Dick and Kory were living in New York when these things happened (DickKory forever) and Dick spent a lot of time either at the hospital or helping Tim acclimate.

Talia took Damian for a year as per her and Bruce’s flimsy custody agreement, and they spent time in Europe (maybe not idk yet)

Jason woke up and began a long period of recovery which put strain on his relationship with Bruce and Tim.

Cass popped up during this time as well (still haven’t figured out how) and Jason was very un-receptive to TWO new siblings.

So was Damian

Jason is released from the hospital and struggles to cope with all the changes to his body and the world around him, not to mention he missed out on a year of school.

Bruce and Talia come to a more firm agreement considering Ra’s is still who he is in this AU and Talia’s loyalties are spilt.

Fast forward two years and the reality show begins.

Dick is 24 and has been single for two years (don’t ask) he and Bruce have reconciled and even gotten to the point of joking about their estrangement, well Dick has. He lives in Bludhaven and works as a gymnastics coach for the underprivileged kids in the area.

Jason is 19 and a freshman at Princeton (I think) he still lives at home, and he’s an English major. He’s not dating anyone but Damian is suspicious of his relationship status.

Cass is 18, and (yes I’m going to go there) a ballerina at New Jersey Ballet (planning on a cooler name). She also lives at home and she spends most of her time dancing or making Damian and Tim dance with her. She knows they actually love it

Tim is 15, he’s either skateboarding or trying to convince Bruce to let him hop state lines and hang out with his YJ friends. Young Justice is actually the name of their garage band but it’s just for fun.

Damian is 8, nearly 9. His first year of in-person school is starting and he is not thrilled. Bruce only let him skip to the fourth grade because his birthday is late even though he can compete with eight graders. He really wants his parents to get back together but he recognizes that they probably won’t be reconciling considering they don’t even mention the divorce around him.

And…that’s it. Whenever I daydream about this AU I always just daydream up episodes and scenes

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 10 [Mack x David]

A/N: This wedding is so perfectly Mack and David. The location, the people, THE VOWS, the party, the softness. But mostly in the way they turn into each other during the quiet or big moments. UGH! I always love an AU wedding chapter. & this one has found it's way to the top!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: There is a brief moment of mature content in here. Because it isn't super flushed out, I'm not putting the sticker on. But if ANY mentions of sex make you uncomfy, don't continue below.

In the center of the room, a big ceiling fan swirls lazily overhead trying to move the thick, Caribbean air in the bridal room. Beneath the fan sits Mack’s bridesmaids- Lucie, Sophie, and Livy- along with her auntie Emma, her mom, Lexi, and Savannah, her cousin’s fiancé. The group of girls gabs excitedly as the finishing touches of powder are dotted on Mack’s forehead and under eyes.

“Okay, just sit there. Let’s see how that holds up.” The make up artist murmurs.

Mack is the last one to be ready because her hair took so long to curl. Plus her make up has tried to melt off her face with each layer. Things she forgot to consider when choosing their wedding venue. Overall, nothing about getting ready is going well, including the underwhelmed feeling she had when her dress came out of the garment bag. It’s fine. Just fine. Not anything like what the perfect man down the hall deserves.

Mack looks down at her folded hands and the diamonds of her engagement ring. Soon a simple platinum band will rest next to it with her and David’s initials. Is that enough too? Overwhelmed tears begin to blur her fingers together. Ugh, great. If she cries it’s going to be another set back. She swallows hard, willing the tears to cease. A glance over her shoulder reveals the group of girls sipping mimosas and laughing. Her eyes connect with her older sister. Lucie’s smile slowly fades and she cocks her head to the side as if to ask “are you good?”

Mack slaps a smile on her face, nodding. 

“Am I done?” The bride asks the make up artist. After a through examination of her face, she nods.

“Do you want me to touch anything up?” She holds a mirror up. Despite the struggles, Mack’s make up is flawless. Natural with mauve pinks and a burgundy eye crease.

“No. I love it. Thank you.”

Mack stands, then goes to her mom to ask for help with her dress. The room quiets down and everyone watches as Mack gets into her gown. The photographer clicks as Lexi zips her daughter’s dress to the top. Lexi adjusts the straps to lay flat on Mack’s shoulders then looks at her in the massive, full length mirror in front of them.

“You are so beautiful.”

“Davey is so lucky!” Lucie murmurs, getting up and squeezing her little sister. Sophie bounces up too and soon everyone is hugging Mack, making the room feel smaller than it did before. 

“Okay.” Mack mutters uncomfortably. 

“We love you, Mackie!” Liv squeals. “Do you want some champagne?”

“Sure.” Mack agrees. Maybe some alcohol will make her feel better, or take the edge off. 

Instead, the second the alcohol hits her stomach, Mack feels like she is going to barf. Suddenly, the room is too loud- ears feeling like they’re being pierced internally at the laughter and joy. Her body starts to feel incredibly heavy, throat tightening until she can barely swallow.

“Um, can everyone just get out?” Mack blurts over the noise. Once the words are out, she realizes she yelled. All the women in the room stare at her. “Sorry… I need a minute.” She whispers, turning her back on the group.

“Yep.” Lucie immediately answers. “Everyone scoot.” 

All the girls in the room follow the Hischier girls’ commands. Lucie is the last one out. Mack looks over her shoulder at her.

“Can you get him?” Mack asks her older sister pleadingly.

“Yes.” Lucie agrees. 

When the door shuts, Mack tries to breathe but it’s like she can only pull in a third of the oxygen she needs to get through this panic attack. Her nerves have nothing to do with David. She wishes they had eloped to some mountain top or were here by themselves. She feels on display for everyone else's enjoyment and she is not having fun. This is supposed to be fun!? Instead her skin prickles from anxiety, sweat is building already in her hairline and it’s so damn humid her thighs are slick where they rub together. What was she thinking with this silk dress choice?

Mack wants to sit down, but if she does, her dress will be wrinkled the rest of the day. She wants elegant pictures of her and her dad walking down the aisle. A big crease under her hips on either side is not the aesthetic. Instead, she walks over to the various drink choices, carefully pouring herself a glass of ice water. She swallows down a few sips, then blots her lips to preserve her lip stain. 

“Mack?” She hears David call from the door. 

“Come in!”

“Am I looking or no?”

“I don’t care.” She blurts. 

The door cracks open and her big, gorgeous man steps through. The door clicks shut behind him and he stares at her from across the room without a word. His green eyes roam over her. Mack can feel them everywhere, but he doesn't say anything. She looks down at herself then back at him.

“Are you disappointed?”

“Am I… What??” He asks incredulously. His mouth drops slightly open and his eyes rapidly search hers. “Oof, you’re nervous, honey, huh?”

“Yeah. I kinda wanna throw up all over this dress because I hate it now and I loved it before but it’s so hot. I’m so hot, David. I can’t think straight. I’m so out of my element with everyone waiting hand and foot on me. You’re not here with me and I don’t like it.” David chuckles as he walks over to her. HIs hands collect her hips, rubbing circles into the soft fabric.

“First of all, the dress is a ten and you’re a fucking 20. Holy shit. You look… stunning. Like what the hell are you doing marrying me?” A relieved exhale rushes from her lips.

“Stop.” Mack’s shoulders drop about three inches, back to their normal resting position. He instantly knows how to put her at ease. She laughs, holding his chest as he steps forward to nuzzle her face with his. 

“I’m serious. Holy smokes. We better get the officiant in here right now before you change your mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind. I just really need a hug from you.”

“Then come here.” He opens his arms for her. Mack drops into his body, soaking up his sweet, happy energy that she has come to crave. Where she is a thunderstorm, he’s the sunshine after the rain. She puts her hand on his chest over his heart, then rests her cheek there to be careful of his white shirt. “Don’t worry about it.” He tells her, peeling her hand away so she can lean fully against him. “I’ve got another one if we need it. My wife is always prepared.”

“I was worried they were going to lose our luggage.” She insists.

“Honey, you have been too worried. I think that’s the problem here. All that’s happening is we are saying some words to each other, putting rings on and smooching.”

“With an audience.”

“With thirty people who love us. And are so thrilled to be here to celebrate.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “You’re right.” She takes in a big inhale, but she is still rigid in his arms. David holds her, gently trailing his fingers over her back. He presses sweet smooches into her curled, brown hair.

“I wanna show you something.” David murmurs, rubbing her back once more before dropping his hands from her. Mack steps back, watching as his fingers go to the buttons on his dress shirt.

“A pre-vow strip tease?” She quirks, wanting to make him laugh too.

“You wish, eh?” He winks, working his way down to the last few buttons. He undoes the buttons on his cuff too. His shirt slips away and Mack sees what he has been hiding for the last week.

“Wha… wow.” She quietly exclaims. Her fingers come up and she runs them around the district, black skeletal hands. Their two hands linked together, thumbs closing together in a heart, with the words “In this life and the next” woven around a banner combining their wrists. Underneath the words is their wedding date in roman numerals. A dark wedding ring sit slumped on the bones at an angle, meant to be hers. “Good thing I didn’t run, huh?” She jokes, then drops her face as she starts to cry. Her head hits his bare chest and he wraps his arms around her again. Mack glides her hand around his bicep, covering the raised ink of his fresh tattoo.

“Been saving that spot for the love of my life.” Mack kisses his chest, following a trail up to the hallow of his throat. “I love you, Mackenzie Hischier. And today is the best day of my life.” 

“Mine too.” She grins then kisses him like he deserves after all the ways he made her feel loved since walking through that door.

Her butterflies are gone. The uneasiness has disappeared from her stomach. Mack is once again grounded in importance and her safe space. Gone is all the worries about little things they won’t remember in 50 years when they’re still married.

All that is left is him. 

“I’m feeling better.” She says. “Thank you.” Mack reaches around to grab the sleeve of his dress shirt. She helps him slide back into it then re-buttons him up except for the top two buttons. “I wanna see some of you when I walk down the aisle.” 

“You’ll be seeing a lot of me right after I get to kiss ya.” He chuckles. “Be ready to go.”

“I’m ready.” She murmurs, grabbing his hand and putting it under her dress. She’s bare. His nostrils flare. 

“Baby… I wish you wouldn’t have…” He sighs. “Actually I don’t. That’s so fucking hot knowing I’m gonna marry you this way. Don’t change a damn thing, okay?”

“Promise.” She murmurs. “Kiss me again. Then go back to whatever boys do before they get married.”

“Lio wants to do shots.”

“I will kill him.” Mack rears back. “Tell him I said that.”

“I’m kidding.” David laughs, then kisses her like she requested. “Mmm, I love you.”

“I love you.” She repeats. After another grab of her bare ass, he leaves the room, confident and secure with each heavy step he takes. Before he shuts the door, he winks at her.

Mack breathes out the breath she feels like she has been holding all day. She smoothes her skirt down. Her eyes go to the stunning turquoise water for a moment, then she goes to invite everyone back into the room. 

It isn’t long before the ceremony music floats down to the bridal suite. All the girls leave again and Nico Hischier is invited in to see his beautiful daughter.

“Sweets, you are exquisite.” He murmurs, reaching a hand out for her. He squeezes her fingers together, then pulls her in for a hug. 

“Probably never saw this day coming, huh?” Mack laughs as they step out of the suite together. Her arm threads easily through his right one. Her other arm carries her bouquet of light pink roses.

“Before David, yeah I thought that.” Nico admits.

“I think you knew he was the one before me.” Mack murmurs, adjusting the collar of his shirt as they pause before the walkway leading to the overlook where her and David will exchange their vows. 

“No. You knew before me, You were just pretending you didn’t. But he was it.” Mack bites her bottom lip, then looks up at him with identical, teary brown eyes. It’s hard to imagine them standing here for this moment without Nico’s advice in Switzerland when Mack ran home.

“He’s the best, isn’t he?” They both laugh as Nico simply nods in agreement.

Yeah, David Carlson is better than anything Nico could have dreamed for his daughter.

Soft cords of Can’t Help Falling In Love begin to play. Nico looks over at Mack who nods that she is ready. So, so ready. Mack and Nico step through the door. Everyone turns to them, but Mack doesn’t even notice. She can’t take her eyes off the man who waits at the end of the aisle. He grins at her- a mega watt smile that could power the island for the night. Tears instantly sting Mack’s eyes. She laughs incredulously, like how is this perfect moment hers? What did she do to deserve this? And can she go back and do it again?

Then, she steps forward with her dad for their most important walk. Two strides in, Mack makes the mistake of looking at her dad who has tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Wow, dad, you could have tried a little harder to keep it together.”

“I should be better at this.” He acknowledges which makes Mack laugh. The motion blinks her tears down her cheeks and she sniffs.

The walk is fast. Guests will joke for years to come that Mack pulled Nico the whole way down. But who could blame her when David looks like that waiting for her. In front of her, Mack swoons at the misty glow of David’s green eyes. He isn’t crying, but his emotional smile has her heart glowing in her chest. He reaches his hand out for Nico to shake. They do so then hug tightly. Nico looks back over at his daughter. She tilts her head and tries to keep it together as she hugs him. Then he puts her hand into David’s.

“I’m not giving her away. She’s doing that herself.” Nico states to both of them. “Exactly like I would expect Mackie to.” David and Mack laugh. Yeah, that absolutely tracks for the independent, free woman she is.

“Her choice.” David nods. Nico steps away after stating he loves them both. 

As he leads her up to the flowered arch, David checks in. 

“You okay, honey?” Mack nods as she turns to face him.

He collects both of her hands in his own, holding them securely in place even though they shake a bit in his grasp. Behind David, Connor, Cody and Trevor stand tall, hands clasped together in front of them. Connor winks at her; Mack scrunches her nose at him then looks away before he makes her laugh. In the front row, her parents sit next to Felix and his wife, Lorena. Felix hasn’t left the U.S. in all the years David has known him. It’s huge that they are here. Today, they sit in a row with two empty seats, honoring the two people David would do anything to have here with them. 

The ceremony begins with an acknowledgement to that. A brief moment of pause for reflection and recognition of the great losses of David’s life. He remains stoic and reserved during the moment. When it’s over, he squeezes her hands and smiles. He wanted to do that, but he was unsure about it too. He didn’t want to start their marriage feeling sad at what he lost when he is gaining an entire family.

Mack and David didn’t want much fan fair in their ceremony, but they knew for sure they wanted to write vows for each other. Mack goes first. She takes in a deep breath, then looks up at him with a smirk.

“For the record, you should know I still hate you.” Everyone laughs. David nods his head, grin stretching his cheeks so wide it looks like it hurts.

“Fair.”

Mack chuckles, then continues.

“I hate how easy you make it to love you. I hate how perfect you are. I hate how much my family is obsessed with you. I hate how you brought me to Iowa and somehow made me love living on a farm? I hate how you know exactly what I am feeling when I wanna hide it all from you. But if you didn’t know, we probably wouldn’t be here.” Mack pauses there. She swallows then takes in another breath.

”You are everything I’ve ever needed. Everything I never wanted to have. But mostly because I never thought I would find something like this. I’ve been called complicated or difficult or aloof my entire life, but you’ve never made me feel that way. You've taken me exactly as I am, flaws and all, and have loved me hard, especially on the days when I didn’t want you to, then extra hard on the days I didn’t deserve it.”

David frowns at that, not liking the putdown on herself, exactly like she thought.

“Because in your eyes, I’m perfect. Nothing to fix, nothing to change. Only different parts that make me more loveable. I see myself that way now. Your love has healed parts of me I thought would never be whole.”

Now he smiles again. 

“I’ve been all over the world to tell stories. I’ve seen love in just about any place on this planet that it can exist. Sometimes it’s self-less, sometimes its hard decisions, sometimes it’s too painful to put into words, but it is always present. It used to make me ache to write these love stories out. But now I see us in every one of them. In the way love sacrifices. In the way it never fully goes away, no matter the distance. And especially in the way it forgives, vowing to be better every day.”

“So that’s my vow to you. To be self-less. To sacrifice for us. To love you in the moments you really need it, but also on the mundane Tuesday mornings. And to never stop leaning into us. So we grow and get better every day.”

“I can’t wait to ride this life out to the finish line with you. I’m so excited for this next chapter for us. I love you. Now and in the next lifetime.” She grabs his bicep where she now knows their tattoo sits, then lets her hand fall back to lace with his fingers. 

David stares at her in awe for several seconds. Then he sighs happily as the officiant hands him is vows. 

“I love you, baby.” He murmurs only to her. “Thank you for that.” 

Mack squeezes his hand then does her best to prepare for what he wants to say to her. 

“I have to say writing vows for a writer is really hard and I almost paid Livy to do it for me.” Again, everyone laughs. “Um, but the reality is that I love you so much, it’s difficult to put words together to describe it, honey. I kept telling myself when I was struggling with this that one day, 10, 20, 30 years from now, I’ll have found the words for you, but I don’t know. Because I find something new to love about you every day. If I’ve got 30 years of that, it’ll take another 30 just for me to get it all out to ya.”

"But that’s my favorite part of all this, how much time we have together. How many more memories we get to make, me and you, that will fill a lifetime of love and joy for each other.” He starts shaking his head. “And I know, that still won’t be enough for me. Instead, I’ll have to find you in the next life, honey. And I’ll love you all over again for the rest of that one too.” Mack whimpers as he folds the paper up. Short, but extraordinary as is David's way.

“I hate how good you are at writing vows even when you think you suck.” She slaps his jacket with her vows. She gestures to him at their wedding guests who clap and laugh loudly. “What the hell…” She mutters just to him. 

“You make me better.” He says simply.

That one sentence could have been both of their vows.

During the rest of the ceremony, David is holding her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. He squeezes her fingers every so often, then kisses her rings as he slips her band on her finger. They may be getting married in front of other people, but truly Mack feels like they are the only ones here. 

When the rings are secured, David pulls Mack close.

“We’re done, yeah?” David asks the officiant, not looking away from his new wife.

“Sure.” The officiant nods. “Go ahead.”

Mack goes up on her tip toes, cupping David’s cheeks as their tongues meet first. It’s a hot, deep, knee weakening kiss that has Mack softening into his chest. David lifts her up. Mack’s knees curl as she laughs into their kiss. 

“My wife.” David murmurs.

“Yours. Mine. Forever.” She agrees, kissing him with each word. David sets her back on her heels. They turn to their guests and smile. Everyone claps and cheers, but Mack and David have their eyes set on the doors leading back into the venue. Mack discards her bouquet on an outside table. When they get inside then their focus is on the hallway, then the bridal suite.

Five minutes into their marriage, David buries himself deep into Mack’s core. He works her up into a feverish rush of desire then shoves her off the cliff into a white hot orgasm that feels different than any one she’s had before. Because this time it’s her husband who fills her up right after. Mack kisses all over his face- lips, jaw, mustache- as he puts her legs back down on the ground.

“So much better as my wife.” He wiggles his black eyebrows at her. Mack can’t stop grinning. Her cheeks already hurt from all the love and smiles she’s had today. But then David leans down and kisses her dimples, clearing all the discomfort away. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She agrees.

Then they walk hand in hand back to where everyone waits for them.

The second Mack and David are visible in the reception doorway, Connor starts yelling.

“My brother!!!!!!!” 

“Oh my god.” Mack laughs as Connor comes sliding over in his dress shoes. David releases her hand and runs towards his D partner.

“Brother!!!” David yells, picking Connor up. They both shake each other around, two big bodies moving awkwardly through the air as they try to express their excitement. 

“You two are such idiots.” Lucie teases. “Congrats, Mackie. I’m so happy for you.” Lucie rubs Mack’s shoulder as she pulls her in for a hug. 

“Thanks, Luc.” 

Her parents are next, followed by her little sister. Then she accepts hugs from the Meiers and of course, Felix and Lorena.

“Mrs. Mackenize.” Felix greets. Mack giggles at the name change. “Good choice keeping your last name. His sucks.” He jerks his hand at David.

“Bet it looks pretty good on your checks, old man.” David grins at Felix, all love for the older man.

“Yes! It goes!” Lorena slaps Felix’s chest. “Thank you both so much for having us here. This is a dream vacation, but we are honored to be here to celebrate your love.”

David and Mack paid their entire way as a thank you for everything the two of them do on the farm, especially while they are in New York for the season. This is the least they could do. Lorena had been telling Mack she couldn’t remember the last vacation they went on. Mack knew what they were going to do instantly. They’re all set up to continue their relaxation for another week, even after the NHL families head back home.

Next are Nico and Lexi who both hold their daughter together.

“We love you. And David is right, you are perfect.” Lexi assures her. “Nothing to change.” Mack blinks two tears down her cheeks. Her parents have never made her feel this way. It’s all been internal turmoil, but just like David, they’ve found ways to soothe and heal her over the years too.

“Thank you.” She whispers then lets them move on to her husband. 

Sophie rushes over, collapsing into Mack’s arms and sighing happily.

“I love you, Mackie! I’m so happy for you.” Sophie looks at her with stunning green eyes, framed by long lashes that make her look innocent and younger than her age. To Mack, she’ll always be five years old, needing help into her Kindergarten classroom. “Let’s drink! Luc!” Sophie calls their other sister over. “Livy! Sav! All the guuuuurls!”

The group of women wanders up to the bar together. They all get glasses of champagne. Then the DJ puts on an absolute banger and they all run away to the dance floor without Mack, who backs out of Sophie’s grip.

“Give me a minute.” She chuckles. 

“ONE!” Sophie yells back then bops her way to the dance floor and immediately starts to drop it low. 

Mack takes a sip of her champagne, then a hand grabs her elbow. She grins, hugging her uncle Timo. 

“My little bully is all grown up. Congratulations, Mack. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Mack hugs him harder. 

“Save me a dance?”

“Always.” She nods, then watches him walk off, handing a glass of champagne to his wife. Mack smiles to herself as they kiss. She’s lucky to have had incredible examples of marriages that last with hard work and two people who try. She hopes her and David can continue to replicate this in their own way.

Mack drifts her gaze across the event, trying to stay present in this moment. This day has been the best one of her life; she meant it when she told David that earlier. It’s the people who are here and the man that she just married and the ocean breeze that blows her curls around her face. She didn’t know it could be this good. 

All she wants for the rest of her life is to keep this. 

All of it.

David’s hand slides around her waist. She does the same to him, resting her head against his chest. They don’t share any words as they watch the part around them.

There are none left to say.

All they can do is soak it all in.

Read more Mack and David here.

[garden-of-gay]

Can You Feel It? It's Burlesque Part 2

This chapter is a bit shorter than the last, but that is because I've been super busy and I wrote too much for one chapter, so I am giving a shorter chapter now for a longer chapter 3. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3

Ch 1, Ch 2

Also here on Ao3

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

Eddie made his way up to the door Steve had motioned to and upon entering the back was hit with a wave of perfume and absolute chaos. The back was extremely crowded, dancers were everywhere in all the different mirrors and stations but above all a woman’s voice could be heard.

“Ladies! Let’s move it, ladies!” She yelled.

There was a cacophony of replies along the lines of “Yes ma’am” and a couple “Where is my costume!?” but for the most part, the chatter was hard to decipher although, Eddie managed to pick up a bit since his time working in the noisy bar.

“Does anyone know where Billy is?” someone asks.

Eddie is thoroughly overwhelmed at this moment as he searches for Joyce. He overhears a dancer talking to someone and figures it’s his best bet to find Joyce, follow the dancers.

He hears a dancer complain of losing a contact on the stage and the older woman from earlier speak up.

“Okay, if you fall off the stage remember, leg extended, boobs up” she chuckles.

The younger woman she was seemingly talking to then chimes in,

“Remember you’re a goddess.”

“Thank you, Robin” the dancer replies with a smile before the older lady repeats the phrase in a mocking tone towards this Robin.

Backstage is chaos, but he loves it. It reminds him of the few times his dad allowed his band to play at the bar and there was a certain anticipation that hung in the air right before performing. He bumps into one of the dancers before she calls out to a man loitering backstage.

“Lonnie, the sink upstairs is broken again,” she said.

“I’m not calling a plumber, Barb” He replies.

He then makes his way over to the elegant older woman and Eddie can slightly make out what they are saying.

“Joyce, have you read this letter from the bank?” He asks.

“Lonnie, how many times must I tell you? No business during business hours” She huffs, annoyed.

“Come on, Henry Creel is coming to the show tomorrow night, this isn’t going away Joyce,” he says.

She rolls her eyes at him and is clearly disinterested in continuing the conversation, but he continues anyway.

“You won’t talk to me before shows, you won’t talk to me after, it’s like you are avoiding me.”

“Well, I didn’t divorce you to spend more time with you” She jokes.

“I may not be Mr. Joyce anymore but I still own half this place,” he says before walking away in a huff muttering on about how it’s not paying the bills.

Eddie then approaches Robin who is in the midst of fixing up a dancer’s hair and then asks.

“I’m looking for Joyce?”

She nods her head in the direction the older woman, Joyce, went and he wanders over to her.

“Hi, are you Joyce?” He asks.

“Yes, honey, why are you in my mirror exactly?” She replies kindly.

“Oh sorry, I’m a friend of Steve’s and I’m looking for a job.”

“Where have you danced?”

“Ummm….”

Eddie had for some reason not anticipated this question and was now left floundering.

“At home? I promise you I can move though.”

She gave him a polite smile in the mirror before speaking.

“Give your name and number to Robin and she can contact you when we have our next auditions.”

“When will that be exactly?” he asked.

He never got his answer because Robin approached, and Joyce turned her attention to her.

“Where is Billy?”

“I don’t know, he’s late again,” Robin said

“Oh, I’m never late” Eddie interjected hoping it scored him some brownie points

“That’s great buddy now leave your name and number with your friend Steve downstairs, and we will give you a call, promise,” Robin said with a gentle push towards the stairs

 “I’ve just never seen anything like it, and I would just love...” Eddie began before bumping into yet another dancer, this time in big sunglasses

“Billy, Robin, and I were just talking, and you know she said…” Joyce said and then gestured to Robin to finish the thought

“That it was so sad that Billy couldn’t join us for the opening number, and it would be so great if he joined us for the next one”

“Listen, less flab more ab, my workout took longer than expected” Billy replied to the women

“And so is finding a new job when I fire your late ass” Joyce joked, but Eddie could tell there was a bit of truth to her statement

Billy then turned and acknowledged Eddie for the first time since they bumped into each other

“Hey, bring me a martini extra dry, straight up, three olives,” Billy said with an heir of entitlement

“He doesn’t work here Billy” another dancer replied while Eddie remained speechless, staring at Billy

“Then he isn’t busy,” he said smarmily

Eddie continued staring at Billy for a moment. Billy then seemed to notice and spoke with a cocky grin on his face.

“Didn’t your mama every tell you it isn’t polite to stare”

“You’re just so damn handsome” He replied

“Screw your mama, stare away” Billy exclaimed with a Cheshire grin

“It’s just no one would ever know” Eddie replied

“Know what!" Billy said angrily.

Eddie took note that Billy seemingly had a short fuse and was easy to rile up…perfect.

“That you are smooth like a Ken doll down there,” Eddie said with a wink before descending the stairs back into the busy club.

-

Once he got back down to the bar, Eddie took inventory of everything happening. He needed a job ASAP and it looked like this place needed a proper waiter. He observed the club for a moment and realized that the waitress who was supposed to be getting drinks to patrons was sitting around chatting with someone at the bar. He watched as a customer waved her over and she blatantly ignored them saying something along the lines of “In a minute”. This just wouldn’t do, and a plan began forming in Eddie’s head, if he couldn’t tell them why he deserved a job then he would just show them.

He stripped the leather jacket he was wearing draping it over a chair before picking up a tray from the bar and making his rounds from table to table based on who was in need of drinks. Once he was satisfied with gathering orders he returned to Steve at the bar.

“A shot of Patron and the tough looking guy in the hat wants a Cosmo” he said, Steve looked puzzled but replied

“What are you doing?”

“One night, if I’m not better than boobs-for-brains over there, you don’t have to pay me” Eddie practically begged he needed this job and he needed it bad.

-

Turns out Eddie had done something right and was told he could return the next night to begin proper work on the condition that he wore the proper club uniform. He had easily agreed as the uniform was all black and even if he hated it he would wear it because a job is a job and he needs it. He had been told to arrive 30 minutes early to his shift to be shown where everything was and get a feel for the place but other than that he was left to his own devices since he had waiting experience under his belt.

Once the club had opened and the seats were filled, Eddie began getting drinks for the tables as they waited for the opening number of the night. Eddie had no idea what to expect but was just as excited to see the performances as the attendees. After a while, the lights dimmed and the opening to Diamonds Are a Girls Best Friend by Marylin Monroe.

A kiss on the hand May be quite continental But diamonds are a girl's best friend

A kiss may be grand But it won't pay the rental On your humble flat Or help you at the automat

Men grow cold As girls grow old And we all lose our charms in the end

But square-cut or pear-shaped These rocks don't lose their shape Diamonds are a girl's best friend

Back at the bar, Joyce and Robin could be found watching Eddie as he worked.

“Isn’t that the guy that was backstage yesterday?” Joyce asked

“I think so?” Robin replied

“Hey Steve, what’s he doing here?” Joyce called out to him.

Steve’s face flushed a bit red at this, but he replied nonetheless

“He really wanted a job and so…he's our new waiter”

“And when did I make you the head of personnel?” Joyce joked with Steve

“He just picked up a tray and started working,” Steve said with a shrug, face still flushed

“Really?” Robin asked, her eyes bugging slightly out of her head

“Well, his name is Eddie” Steve replied sheepishly.

“Eddie” Joyce repeated before calling out to the man in question

“Hey Eddie”

Eddie waltzed over to the bar nervous as to what Joyce had to say, would she be super upset? Would she fire him on the spot? He couldn’t lose this job, he just got it and based on the look on her face, she meant business. As he got closer, however, her face softened before she spoke

“The uniform looks nice on you but roll up your sleeves you look too formal. Also, put up your hair you got a cute face so don’t hide it”

Eddie flushed and hoped the lighting would hide his blush. He had been told he was hot before by the men he had hooked up with, but he had never been called cute, especially not by a motherly type; it was nice.

“Also, don’t ever go behind my back again” Joyce said more stern

“Yes ma’am” Eddie replied, and he felt like saluting but figured that it would not bode well.

“And don’t ever call me ma’am again” Joyce huffed

“Yes sir, I mean ma’am, I mean…Joyce” Eddie fumbled. Damn, he was doing bad at this.

“Get on the floor” Joyce joked before patting Eddie along.

-

The performance continued and Marilyn sang:

Tiffany's Cartier Black Starr Frost Gorham Talk to me Harry Winston Tell me all about it

As the lead dancer ripped jewels from the other dancers’ bodies. Eddie watched mesmerized, slowly picking up the steps to the dance and dancing along as he went from table to table getting drink orders. He was pulled away from watching when a man’s voice spoke.

“Excuse me, Dewar’s rocks and a bottle of your best champagne for the table…and oh, will you tell Billy that I’m here”

“Any you are…?” Eddie asked, especially since this man clearly had money and no manner when it came to introducing himself.

“A member since ’91, Henry Creel. And you are?” Henry asked

“Eddie” He replied

“Eddie" Henry parroted back

-

Meanwhile, as Eddie waited tables, Robin had made her way backstage to make sure the performance was going alright and that she could help with any malfunctions and costume changes to come. As she watched, she was made aware of a presence once he came crashing up to her.

“I’m here,” Billy said

“You’re late, you’re late for a very important date, Vickie went on for you” Robin chuckled because of course Billy expected the club to wait on him.

Billy then looked between the beaded curtains at Vickie before he spotted Eddie and turned to Robin.

“What is that waiter doing here, I want that bitch out now” Billy exclaimed angrily

“What did he ever do to you?” She asked

“He said I have no dick” he pouted

Robin just laughed before replying

“That can’t be the first time that’s happened”

Billy just gave her an angry look before turning to look up at the lighting guy and saying:

“Get my spot”

“Billy, what are you doing!” Robin exclaimed, trying to stop Billy but it was too late, he had already stepped out onto the stage and to reel him back in would just disrupt the performance.

-

Eddie watched as the dancer from yesterday, Billy, stepped on the stage and began to fight for the spotlight over the original lead dancer.

There may come a time When a lass needs a lawyer But diamonds are a girl's best friend

There may come a time When a hard-boiled employer Thinks you're awful nice But get that ice or else no dice

Of course, Billy was like this. Eddie had encountered people like this before who needed everything to be about them, and Billy seemed just the type to do that. He pushed and shoved his way in front of the other dancer and the poor girl did her best to adapt to the situation.

-

 As the number came to an end Eddie found himself back at the bar watching and imagining himself in the place of the lead dancer.

Diamonds Diamonds I don't mean rhinestones But diamonds are a girl's best Best friend

He would sing and the crowd would go wild, clapping, throwing flowers for him, and overall cheering his name. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

“Eddie! Eddie, what do you need?” Steve asked, snapping and pulling Eddie away from the daydream he was having

“Dewars rocks and a bottle of Dom” He began

“And keep it coming” Steve finished

“So, he’s a regular” Eddie questioned

“Henry Creel, real estate guy. Dating Billy. This week at least” Steve answered

Good to know that Steve and seemingly the club were not homophobic because that might have become a problem at some point but Eddie was more focused on how the dancers got to soak in the applause and bask in the moment. He turned to Steve

“I wanna be up there, I wanna do that”

“Question is, do you have the talent?” he asked

“I do” Eddie replied

“Are you sure?” Steve asked

“Yes!” Eddie replied with a grin

“Positive?” He asked with a smile of his own

“Yeah!” Eddie said, grin getting bigger

“Good because you’re on” Steve replied with a smile before pushing a tray of drinks towards Eddie.

His smile dropped pretty quickly after picking up the tray of drinks and he huffed an annoyed sigh.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Taglist:

@irregular-child

[dixonsbrat]

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

is so fucking rosita espinosa coded PLEASE i’m dying for vee’s rosita rn take all my money 💥💳

── .✦  𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ┆ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐚

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; you get injured while on a supply run with rosita and she patches you up

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; established relationship, girlfriend!reader x rosita espinosa, mentions of walkers, blood, injuries, death, gore.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1.2k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; i’m actually so obsessed with rosita that this ended up being way longer than i intended it to be .ᐟ

you don’t feel it as it happens, not until after the small group of walkers has been taken out, laying on the ground before you in a bloody, gory mess.

rosita stands on the other side of the pharmacy, blowing the hair from her face and wiping the sweat from her hands as her eyes lower to your arm and then widen with realisation.

“oh, god. your arm,” she points to the gash across your limb, a small trickle of blood running down your skin.

“wha-shit,” you grimace, inspecting the new injury and then to the broken glass that was beside you, “i must’ve cut it when the walkers attacked.”

rosita is by your side within moments, stepping over the now permanently dead walkers to study your wound. she takes your arm in her hands, turning it gently to assess the damage. her touch is soft, careful, almost like she’s afraid she’ll hurt you even more. “it looks deep. not deep enough to need stitches though,” she remarks, a slight frown on her face. “does it hurt at all?”

“no, not really. at least not right now,” you shake your head. you both knew that it was only a matter of time before the adrenaline that was coursing through your body from fighting off the walkers would wear off and the pain would start to kick in, but for now, rosita was just grateful that you weren’t in too much pain.

she gives you a small nod, still clearly concerned. “let’s get you cleaned up before it gets infected. there’s who knows what on this broken glass.”

you watch as she glances around the pharmacy with a thoughtful look on her face before turning towards the shelves and beginning to rummage through anything and everything to find some antiseptic and something to clean it with. she eventually finds a clean rag, a couple band-aids and a small unopened bottle of rubbing alcohol tucked away in an old storage cupboard in the corner and returns to your side.

“sit,” she instructs, gesturing for you to take a seat beside her as she sits down on the ground. the tone of her voice is authoritative but soft, and you can’t help but do as she says.

“yes, ma’am,” you respond jokingly, your lips curling into a slight smirk as you sink down beside her.

rosita rolls her eyes, fighting the urge to smile as she begins to unstopper the bottle and tips a little bit of the liquid onto the cloth. “i’m trying to save you from an infection, smartass. this is a very serious matter, now shut up and let me look at it.” her tone is teasing, her words light, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes that she only ever seemed to have for you.

“i’m sorry, you’re right. this is a very serious matter,” you match her teasing tone, nodding your head while fighting the urge to smile.

the corner of her mouth twitches, a smile fighting to take over her face and she lets out a sigh of mock annoyance, “can’t have you dying from infection, can we?”

you hum, “mmm, don’t know how you’d ever go on without me.”

she grins, gently taking your injured arm in her hands and gingerly lifting it up to examine the wound more closely. it’s a good thing that she was so focused on cleaning and patching you up now, or she might have noticed the way your eyes followed her fingers as they gently caressed your skin.

“hold still. this might sting a little.” she meets your eyes for confirmation and you nod, bracing yourself.

the alcohol wipes over the cut, and just as rosita had warned, the sensation was painful and stung like hell, but she moved gently and efficiently to ensure that every part of it was free from dirt. you grimace slightly, letting out a small hiss which makes her eyebrows knit together with concern and she gives your arm a firm squeeze as a silent apology.

“almost done,” she continues to clean the wound, her touch is delicate and precise, but also careful not to cause you any more pain. her face remains expressionless, though you can see the clear look of concentration in her now narrowed eyes.

you can’t help but watch her as she meticulously tends to your wound, as if caring for you came so naturally to her.

eventually, she sets aside the cloth with a small huff of satisfaction, studying the wound and letting out a sound of contentment that it was now free from dirt and filth. it was still raw, and it would probably sting for a while longer, but at least it was clean.

her eyes flicker up to meet yours and she smiles, placing the band-aids over the wound, “just one last finishing touch,” she says and presses a gentle kiss to it, giving your arm another small squeeze before letting it fall back into your lap. “there, all better.”

your heart flutters at the gesture, your eyes not leaving her for a moment, “my hero.”

“shut up,” she rolls her eyes, leaning back against the wall as she glances down at your arm, just to make sure your blood wasn’t seeping through the bandages, and to hide the light crimson on her cheeks.

there’s a small comfortable silence between the two of you, and for a moment you both just sit there, breathing the same air, relishing in the other’s presence for a few more minutes before you finally speak, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“it’s good and all, but you did miss one thing,” you raise your brows as you slowly shake your head.

rosita tilts her head to the side, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, “and what is it exactly that i missed?”

you lean a little closer, your eyes wandering her features. taking in the deep brown of her eyes and the way her lips curl into a small smile. “you missed something… right here,” you point to your lips.

she lets out a scoff, her eyes darting from your lips to your eyes then back again, “guess i’ll have to fix that then, won’t i?”

you nod, your smile widening, "definitely."

“you’re insufferable, you know that.” she shakes her head, but doesn’t ask it, she states it, leaving you no room to argue. though despite her words she can’t keep the smile off of her face as she brings a hand up to cup your cheek. her touch is soft, just as it had been while she was tending to your wound, and her thumb gently brushes across your skin, her eyes never leaving yours.

“yeah, but you love me,” your voice is low, managing to get the last word out just before she closes the space between you both.

“unfortunately, you’re right.” she murmurs against your mouth, a soft huff of laughter escaping through her nose as her lips continue to move against yours.

her free hand comes up to grasp your chin, angling your head to deepen the kiss and a small hum of contentment escapes her. when she pulls away, she lets her forehead rest against yours for a moment, before taking in a deep breath. “satisfied now?”

you nod, and hum with approval, “very.”

“good.” she sighs, pulling away and standing to her feet before offering you a hand to do the same, “now c’mon you, we should get moving before it gets dark.”

[buryeden]

Had they belittled everything, thrown it into a box and kept it satiated by wasting this passion for something that would end so suddenly? Wilder didn't seem to care, clouded by this desire that stronger than intoxication. The divinity his name was suppose to hold, that he denied with each utterance and resisted denouncing when others questioned just where he stood in the haunting of it all, was something he could finally feel when Theo spoke it.

"Yes," Will could hardly break a word out, pinned down by this ecstasy. His fingers tugged against Theo's crown and pulled apart every perfectly placed hair on his head to push him closer to the delicate skin of his neck. He wanted his kiss to bruise, to linger for the days in between where he knew he wouldn't have him this close again.

Tugging on the buckle of his belt, Wilder pulled it free with little consideration for each loop sewn along the waist band. He didn't have a single thread of focus to finish the job before he was pulling at Theo's shirt and then feverishly regretting it when it needed to break his kiss. Will pushed his hands past the fabric and down the curve of his back. He didn't know where to begin, where to linger, too hungry to make a decision.

He quickly pulled off his shirt, trying to remove anything that separated them further. There's a sobering moment when there's nothing between now and he can feel the rise and all of his chest against him. Any time Wilder has come clean like, it's far more impulsive and he never has to look anyone in the eye. Their backs are pressed against his chest where he can hide himself in the throes of passion, or there's no time or even intention to know the body he finds himself entangled with. He didn't have to look people in the eye when they were cramped in a bathroom stall or facing the bed frame of some ruddy little flat for just a night. Theo wasn't someone he would leave once the other turned the shower one to wash him away, or twisted up in sheets for morning to settle between them. There were parts of his life, beyond the rumors and tall tales fed to his kind and the one he hailed from, he didn't know how to explain.

For just a moment, he finds himself hesitating.

This isn't what he wants to share with him, doesn't to linger on and let him touch with curious caress over rippled skin. Wilder was suddenly aware of the way he even avoided looking at each scar, that after all these years he still had his stomach twist in knots at it. There was no where to go, no way to hide it as though Theo hadn't already committed them to memory and inquiry. He stood there, uncertainty pulling him down where his head hung between his shoulders. These weren't battle scars, as all the men in his line of work showed off proudly. Nothing had been gained from these. Not a lesson, not a balanced scale. They hadn't even been given vengeance.

The hunger is almost placid, no longer begging for satisfaction. He moves only to gently, slowly, pull Theo's hands where he can't reach the hollowed rings pressed into skin even after all these years.

"Sorry," He murmurs, but he doesn't pull away. The defiance he clung to, that he so badly wanted to feed against expectation and hesitation, runs cold. He doesn't want to slow down, doesn't want to pay mind to how everything is too slow now and numb. "I just need a moment to catch my breath."

he wondered if wilder could tell the way his body was reacting to all their kisses and touches, or how his pants were starting to grow slightly uncomfortable as he craved all of the younger man before him. it was certainly noticed by theodore who knew he'd have to take his pants off at some point, but for now he could be patient for a little longer. he didn't want to rush things between them because this wasn't just a one-night stand, it was more than that. though what that meant for certain, he didn't know. he didn't care to find out as he was just happy to have wilder in his apartment with him where they could be alone for the night before having to figure things out in the morning.

"good, now we can focus on more important things." he was more than ready to put aside the argument, concerns and anything else that might get in the way of what they wanted, though more importantly theodore was focused on what he wanted. and he was determined to get it before anything else happened to interrupt them. he felt the man's fingers on him and he smiled a little into the kiss that was far too addicting not to return to. the way wilder's lips felt against his made theodore want to never kiss anyone else again. of course that may never happen as he could very well pick someone else up for the night, but for now he only wanted wilder and no one else.

he smiled when feeling the tug on his lip and it was rewarded by pulling away from the kiss to move down to the man's neck, a hand tilting wilder's head back so he could press kisses to his neck. savoring the softness of his skin while his hand shifted from wilder's torso to instead begin palming him through his pants. "does that feel good?" he asked into the other's ear as a small smirk began to form on his lips. "do you want more?"

[sysig]

Spoiling for a fight, spoiled for choice (Patreon)

[dkettchen]

I'm on new blue website (doubt I'll post much on there for now but just fyi for anyone tryna find ppl they follow elsewhere on there ✌)