#i still think of the weird dancing baby first when i hear it

[kristsune]

i feel like the true generational divide is if when you hear blue swede - hooked on a feeling on whether you think of ally mcbeal or guardians of the galaxy

[macfrog]

epilogue sex on fire

once more for old time's sake, hm?

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: guess who's getting married - and you're all invited.

warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink, a weird bus metaphor. idk where it came from. but it works. enjoy!

word count: 6.9k

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It passes in the blink of an eye.

Letting go of your mom’s hand at the school gates; forgetting when you next reached for it. Dancing around a laptop with an acceptance email from your first-choice college onscreen. Walking into a new job with a broken heart; walking out whole again.

All in the blink of an eye.

Joel says it too, as he scrolls through floorplans.

“…Used to be Tommy’s room, way back when,” he swipes to the next screenshot, “I thought it’d look good if we – we took down this wall, and – you see?”

You nod, twisting the hem of your T-shirt around your finger, and curl a little closer into his chest.

He still smells like the fresh coconut bodywash he stole from your bag. The sweet scent that he lathered up and let spill down your tummy, foamy bubbles slipping over your hips.

Under the rainfall shower, he massaged all the pain away. The sweet ache of three hours spent rolling around the bed of your bridal suite, letting him hold you and kiss you and fill you in ways only he has ever done.

You can still feel the heat of him between your legs. You miss him there.

“I see,” you whisper, tucking in beneath his chin.

Joel kisses your head. “You okay? You’re quiet, baby.”

“Just listening,” you reply, and he locks his phone.

“Maybe that’s enough Maple talk for the night, hm? We oughta be relaxing, getting ready for tomorrow.”

“No,” you turn in his grasp, “I wanna see what you’re doing with it. I think it’ll look good, Joel. Did you get the home report yet?”

He slides his phone onto the nightstand and wraps his arms around you. “Not yet. Soon as the work’s done.”

“It’ll look brand new. Totally different.”

“Mhm,” he smiles, “Sure will.”

You lay down on his chest, trimmed hair tickling your cheek. His heartbeat is familiar against your ear. It still skips a beat, even four years in. Still quickens anytime your hand falls over it.

“Are you ready to let go of the place?”

Joel takes a deep breath. “I guess I have to be,” he says, though the words tremble in his throat. It’s not often you catch him feeling uncertain. “Mom’s gone, Tommy said he don’t want it. Unless we pack up ‘n move outta the city, place would just sit there – empty.”

“Hm. Too many memories to let it go to waste.”

“Well, they ain’t all good ones,” he admits, drawing circles on your shoulder.

You thought, that afternoon in your bedroom, that he’d shown you his whole hand. Thought you knew every suit, every card he held. All the things that made Joel who he was – perfectly polished.

The cars, the property, the jet. The company – Jesus, there ain’t a thing he seemed more natural at, than running a multimillion-dollar business. He made it look so goddamn easy.

It used to drive you insane – how together he was. The cracks you could barely see, he’d glued them so perfectly. The ease with which he could hold himself in one hand, and hold you in the other. Just take it all on his shoulders like it weighed nothing.

For every card of yours that was turned, though, Joel revealed another of his.

Maple hadn’t always been the postcard it so looked. White walls, red mailbox. Flowerbeds and slamming doors; two boys’ bikes and one empty dining chair. He told you things with a flash in his eye – and you were never sure whether it was the fire of fury or the salt of sadness.

Joel isn’t so seamless after all. He’s a mosaic of everything that has ever happened to him. Joy and pain, everything in between. A shattered collection of shards, shimmering in the sunlight.

He’s beautiful. For all the brokenness, all the stitched skin – he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Well,” you say, “Maple raised you, so – I love it.”

He looks down at you like you’re brand new. Like it’s the first time he’s ever laid eyes on you.

Running his business looks natural, sure – but loving you comes as easily to Joel as breathing.

“Alright, pretty girl,” he says. “Bedtime.”

You groan into his chest, nose flat against the threads of silver. “Don’t wanna go to bed, Daddy,” you mumble.

He cups your head. “You’re nervous, huh?”

You nod between his pecs, and Joel laughs.

All this time, all the moments of doubt you’ve squashed with the toe of your shoe – and they still manage to creep back in. The corners of your vision still blur, the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. The scars have long closed, but the skin still remembers.

“You know I’m gonna be there, right?” he says. “The whole time. I’m kind of the one you’re marrying.”

“Oh,” you tilt your head, “So that’s who you are.”

He lifts his hands, mirrors your stupid smirk. “Pleased to meet you.”

“What if we don’t see each other? I mean – before…”

“We will,” he promises. “I’ll getcha at the bottom of the stairs.”

“’s gonna be a pretty hectic day, Joel. We might not have time –”

His chin lifts. His lips part, the way they do when he’s about to chew up your panicked gibbering. He takes a breath and, straight as the line of his brow, repeats himself.

“I will get you at the bottom of the stairs. Okay?”

Your frown melts. Okay, you mouth, and he pinches your nose.

“I love you. Now, sleep.”

He flicks the light off.

Four years. Four years passed in the blink of an eye.

Twelve hours after your leaving party, you were strolling through Lavender Oaks, hand in hand. Nothing to hide anymore, no one to convince – not even yourself. You loved him then, whether you really believed it or not. Whether you had the courage to look it straight in the face, or not.

You had loved him for a while, really. It was the last card you had to deal. And Joel knew, long before you’d admitted it to yourself. He’s always been the patient one, hasn’t he?

That night, then, deep in the belly of last summer. Some leafy, twinkling rooftop garden of a restaurant that you can’t even remember the name of, because all you remember is him. Loose collar, long day. Drinks menu in one hand, the other cradling yours.

He was tired, and you knew it. He’d hardly stopped since seven a.m., working all through lunch and straight to eight – but he’d promised you dinner that week. It was already Thursday, and he had a conference or a company retreat or whatever it was that weekend.

You can’t remember. All you remember is his face, the second you said –

When are you going to ask me to marry you?

Joel faltered for all of three seconds – though if he’d had a mouthful of wine, he’d probably have choked on it.

Tomorrow, he said. Yesterday. Now. Marry me.

You laughed. I’m serious. I want you to ask me.

Really? His smirk faded into something more earnest. He looked like a boy, the way his eyebrows lifted and his lip trembled. A boy who believed in magic. The candlelight flickered across his face, suddenly wide awake and glowing with life. Would you say yes?

Mhm. And I wouldn’t break it off two days later, neither.

Lucky me, he mused. He paused, then added, You know we don’t have to, right? I’m happy, baby. I’m happier than I ever thought… his voice wavered and he gulped, I’d be happy the rest of my life, the way we are.

Joel, you lifted his knuckles to your lips, I want to be your wife. I want you to be my husband. Just – just ask me. I’ll say yes.

He beamed back at you like some lovestruck fool. You suppose he was; suppose he had been since the moment he first saw you. A goner as soon as he opened that office door, as soon as he felt the way your hand fit so perfectly in his.

I love you, he said – for what felt like the millionth time. Somehow, he made it mean more each time.

I know, you replied, leaning over the table to kiss him. I love you, too.

In the blink of an eye, your life changed from lonely blue mornings to bright golden dawns. From two boxes of stuff and a Swiss cheese plant, to an entire office with your name on the door.

You collected stripe after stripe, took leap after stride; chased every promotion, every chance, every speck of something over the horizon. Life got busy, you worked your ass off – but for the first time ever, you felt like you were becoming something. Becoming someone.

Joel sat up through all your late nights at the kitchen table. He poured coffee after coffee, carried you to bed when you couldn’t stare at the laptop any longer. He carefully consoled and aptly controlled every stress-induced breakdown you ever had.

He bought you a peace lily to keep your monstera company. He held your hand at every work event you had. He promised you could do it, and slowly, surely, you realized he was right.

So when you told him you were ready – and only then – Joel traded that little gumball ring for a new one.

A real one.

It happened in Paris. He took you back to that same glitzy restaurant – the delicate wine and rich steak, the chandeliers and renaissance ceilings. He echoed every word of French you spoke in a little Austin accent; played footsie under the table and flirted like it was your first date.

He was nervous. Indestructible as he seems, he still has his tells. He played with your hands the whole night, asked if you were okay every second sip of his drink.

Yeah, you said, I’m good. You?

Yep. Yeah. Good.

Your hands are shaking.

He smirked. I’m on a date with a real pretty girl.

He could barely wait for the elevator to reach the suite. He kept closing in on you, pressing words into your neck and playing with the straps of your dress. I love you, I love you, I love you, he said, gripping your waist.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

Everything sparkling – the champagne, the stars, the thousand and one candles he had lining the balcony. Everything golden – the tower, the ring, the feeling flooding through your chest. And in a shaking voice, on a shaking knee, with shaking hands you had to cup as he spoke, he asked you.

Easiest yes ever.

He’s already asleep. Head tipped back, snoring to the ceiling. He looks so cute that it makes you giggle.

“’night, baby,” you lull, and cuddle into his chest.

Joel’s alarm splits the morning at seven.

He reaches over to silence it, groans into his palm, and rubs his eyes open. “Mornin’, angel,” he sighs – same as always. The same two words that kick off damn near every single day since you got together.

“Morning,” you reply, and hug him tighter.

You watch as he comes to life. Stirring beneath you, heart fluttering against yours, skin still warm and sleepy. You’ve been awake for the last hour just watching him – fingers trailing the valleys of his collarbones, nose nuzzling into the rugged hinge of his jaw.

Sometimes you wonder if it’ll ever fade – the rush you feel when you see him. The way the world tinges pink, mutes for a moment or two – and Joel is the only thing in any of your senses.

He lifts his arms in a loud stretch, biceps popping. He sucks in a deep breath. “We should do something today.”

You scoff. “Like what?”

His lips turn. I dunno. “Make some lifelong vows, maybe.”

“Sounds boring,” you huff, pushing yourself up. You roll from his grasp and pad over to the bathroom. “Why don’t we grab lunch instead?”

“Boring?” Joel scoffs. He follows you to the sink and curves around you in a bear hug. “Spent over a hundred grand on this thing, Ms. Miller. You telling me we wasted our money?”

His hands sneak under the material of your tee, lifting it over your bare hips. There’s a weight building against the small of your back – another thing that kicks off nearly every single day. It sits heavy, twitching when you reach for your toothbrush and your ass ruts against him.

Joel hisses. “Goddamn, darlin’,” he grabs your hips and steadies you, “Easy on me, now.”

“I’m not the one groping.” You spin in his arms, toothbrush between your molars.

“Can’t help it –” he kisses your neck, “– when you look –” the other side, “– so sweet –” he lowers with a tiny groan, “– ‘n you taste –” he places a long, damp kiss to your tummy, “– even better.”

You squirm in his grasp. “Joel, we don’t have time for –”

“Sure we do,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue to your slit. “It’s us they’re waitin’ for.”

You drop your brush into the sink with a gasp. “Tommy’s gonna be here any second.

His eyes flash up to yours. “Who?”

He scoops your ass and pulls your thighs over his shoulder. Deft with it, a body he knows as well as his own by this point. A body he loves even more.

You open up for him like he never left. Still warm and wet from last night, still coming down from each high he took you to. Sometimes it feels like this is all you do. Sometimes, you wonder if there’s ever a time you feel more you, than when you’re wrapped around some part of him.

Joel’s voice reverberates through your body. He groans as he licks, nips and sucks between your legs, slowly easing you off the counter and onto his mouth.

You reach for his hair. The salt and pepper streaks, the bedhead only you ever get to see before he’s washed and groomed into that perfect shape of himself. A carefully carved shape, ruggedly handsome but intentional.

He’s more relaxed this way. Your way. Before the world seeps into him, before the suit and tie and hundred-dollar cologne. When only his sun has seen him, stirred him, swept her fingers across his broad chest and whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

Heat is pooling in your stomach, flooding through your veins. It’s cracking open your chest, drawing breath from your lungs. You grip the edge of the counter, back arching, hips rutting against Joel’s tongue – and you come.

He doesn’t miss a beat. Doesn’t miss a drop. He laps every second of it up, every pulse of your cunt, slowing only when you crumple against the mirror and sigh.

Your fingers swirl around his hair. Your body feels heavy with pleasure. The shock is still looping around your bones.

Joel kisses the inside of your thigh and stands, crossing his arms at your spine.

“I love you,” you hum, licking yourself from his lips.

He smiles. A dreamy, golden thing. Still just him and the sun. “Love you, too.”

This morning, of all mornings, might be cutting it fine. They’ve already started setting up downstairs. Twenty tables, one hundred and fifty chairs, one thousand roses, forty bottles of champagne, three grand behind the bar.

The last thing you need on the day of all days is for the bride and groom to be late.

Still. He’s rock solid and right there, throbbing against your tummy.

You slip your hand around him and squeeze, massaging his tip with your thumb.

Joel’s jaw ticks. He feigns offense. “Baby, we don’t have time,” he says, eyes on his cock as you guide him south.

“Shut up,” you breathe, “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Ain’t saying no to that,” he replies, and his hips meet yours.

You groan in harmony, wrapping closer together. Joel finds a quick pace, body snapping into yours, holding you strong and steady in his arms.

“Jesus,” he pants, “Three times last night wasn’t enough for you, huh?”

“F-feels like it wasn’t enough for you, either.”

He laughs. “Forever wouldn’t be long enough in this little cunt, sweet girl. She’s too good to me. Loves her daddy, don’t she?”

You follow his gaze down, where his thick cock drags between your legs. Soaked with you, slick and shining with each thrust of his hips. Deeper and deeper, touching a part of you only he’s ever been able to reach. Pulling noises from your throat only he has ever been able to pull.

Joel rolls his forehead against yours and lifts your eyes to his, a messy kiss to your lips. “Like it when you watch,” he whispers. “You see how pretty she looks?”

“Mhm,” you hook an arm around his neck, “Feel so pretty, Daddy.”

“My beautiful girl.” His lips close around yours again, tongue hot and heady in your mouth. His pace stammers when you moan against him. He curses, hips jolting.

He’s close. All too close.

He won’t come before you. Not before he’s drawn another from your body, felt every pulse of your pussy around him. Not before he’s watched you fall apart; felt you collapse into his arms with it.

He slips out, kissing your temple to shush your petulant whine. “’s okay,” he folds your legs to your chest, “I gotcha. I’m here.”

Over his shoulder, the sun lights your reflection in the shower glass. His toned back, the swells of muscle across his shoulder. Hiding the shape of you from the morning – his moaning mess of a girl, gripping onto him and screaming into his chest.

She sobs his name and you taste it on your tongue. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Each one louder than the last, each one sorer.

The window is cracked open. Anyone might be walking under it.

And you like it, don’t you?

The chance that someone might hear. Might know exactly what Joel’s in here doing to you. Ruining you for anyone else, like he’s done a million times over.

It’s as though he lulls you into it. Like waves, starting in the pit of your belly and rolling outward. Heavier and deeper and sweeter, until your orgasm crashes over you in bursts of warmth.

Your arm tightens around Joel’s neck, brows knitting when you reach your peak. You keep your eyes locked on his, and he mirrors your expression.

“Oh, good girl, honey,” he rasps, pausing when his own high overcomes him. He twitches, little bursts of heat in your cunt before flooding the entire thing. He holds your hips flush against his until his cock stills and breath fills his lungs.

He pulls you against his chest and sits you back on the counter. If there’s one thing better than being fucked by him, it’s the comedown. The aftercare. The kissing, the fixing you back into shape.

Your pussy flutters around him. Your ear against his chest, you feel your heart beating in time with his.

Joel cups your head and dots kisses down to your shoulder. He makes to pull out, and you fuss.

“Stay,” you whimper, tugging on his arm.

He smiles. “Oh, baby, wish I could,” he squeezes your waist, “but I heard Tommy knockin’ on the door five minutes ago.”

He strolls back into the bedroom, massaging a knot out of his shoulder.

You sit, stunned, leaking all over the counter, before rushing through at his heels. “Asshole!” you hiss.

He chuckles as he pulls a hoodie over his head. “Couldn’t leave my lady unsatisfied, could I?”

You throw yourself into a pair of his pajama bottoms. “I think she’d have been fine with it, given your fucking brother is right outside.”

He swings the door wide open. You curl around one of his arms.

Tommy leans against the opposite wall, picking at his nails. He straightens, scratches his beard, and smacks his lips.

“Told you you’d sleep in, brother.”

Joel’s chin lifts. He nods, amused. “You did tell me that, yeah.”

You want to slap him for how cocky he definitely feels. His little brother is none the wiser.

The denim-donned Miller steps over the threshold and reaches for you, a bristly kiss to your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart. How you feelin’?”

“Good,” you lie.

“Nervous,” Joel corrects, cocking an eyebrow.

Tommy laughs. “Talk to Maria. She’ll calm you right down. She felt the exact same on our day.”

Their day. Almost ten years ago, back when you and Joel were strangers – and he and Tommy were as good as.

Credit to him, he put up with the pestering from both sides – that is, you and his mom – for six months, at the start of your relationship. Slowly – painfully slowly – he began to entertain the conversation. Never gonna happens turned into if it ever did happens.

He learned to unlock his jaw, to make eye contact with his mom when she talked about Tommy. He asked questions he hadn’t asked in years. He learned where he and his wife lived, what they named their son.

He learned that they’d had a spring wedding. He learned that Tommy’s best man was his drinking buddy. He fell quiet, and his mom knew to change the subject. On the drive home, he held your hand a little tighter than usual.

Six months which, in the end, felt less like convincing him – and more reassuring him. Yes, Tommy might ignore all of his calls. Maybe Maria might answer, and tell him in a hushed voice that now’s not really a great time, Joel.

Maybe his brother might pick up the phone himself, tell him to go straight to hell.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t hardly recognize his big brother’s voice, at first. There was a pause a few breaths too long right after Joel reintroduced himself – long enough that you thought you might’ve kicked him all the way back to square one. And then –

Well, shit, brother. How the hell have you been?

You spent your first anniversary in Jackson. You took Joel’s mom up there every year after. The brothers fit back together like they’d never been apart, like they’d never forgotten the shape of each other’s hug, the cut of the other’s good humor.

Tommy took you in like you’d been part of Joel even before either of them knew your name.

Your fiancé pulls you into a hug. He kisses your head and asks his brother to grab the elevator.

Tommy salutes as he turns down the hallway. “See you later, little sis.”

Joel holds your face and taps your nose. His lips twist in half a smile, half frown. “You gonna be okay?”

“Sure,” you sniffle. The sting of tears brims your waterline already and you blink them away. You’re hiding from him.

“I’m right downstairs if you need me,” he says, spotting you clear as day. “Just call.”

“Not supposed to see you before the ceremony.”

“Yeah,” Joel winces, “don’t think we’re supposed to have sex, either, but we broke that rule a long time ago, pretty girl.”

His hands are so big around yours. So steady, pulse loud only from your morning tryst – if at all. He plays with your fingers, straightens the ring on your third.

A sharp bell sounds. Tommy whistles for his brother. Your chest aches.

“Few more hours,” Joel says. “Few more hours and then we got the rest of forever, just you ‘n me.”

He wanders down to the elevator, turning inside. He leans against the back wall and crosses his arms. His eyes meet yours, lips curl in that trademark smirk of his, and the doors close.

The stairs are cold and breezy. The manor doors have been wide open all morning, guests filtering through, allowing the cool to cluster in each corner of the house.

It’s been a busy morning. Par for the course, so you hear. No bride gets through her wedding prep unscathed.

You’ve spent four ass-numbing hours dutifully planted in your chair, your nephew in your arms as something of a comfort blanket, eating fresh fruit and drinking cold champagne and promising not to touch your makeup after the artist is done with it.

Maria uses the light from the window opposite the top of the stairs to finish buttoning your dress. She balances on the second step, peering up at your trembling figure.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” she says.

“In the blink of an eye?” You scoff, but she nods.

“I’m serious. You won’t even feel it, and it’ll be over. You’ll be lying in bed tonight telling Joel, Maria was right.”

You clasp your fingers around your bouquet. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”

“He could stand to hear it more often.”

You giggle.

A pair of warm hands sweeps down your shoulders, turning you by the elbows. Her dress is a deep olive, spilling over her arms in waves of shining satin.

“Mom,” you breathe, leaning into her.

She smiles, pinching your cheek. “This is it,” she says simply, like it is as simple as tying your shoelaces. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of…” Your eyes scan the summery wallpaper behind her. It offers no answers. “…What if we’re not ready?”

She glowers. “Oh, yeah. Good point. I’m sure the man who flew you to Paris after two weeks is not ready to marry you. We should send everybody home.”

“It’s just a big deal,” you continue, “Lots of people downstairs.”

“No, there’s not. There’s not,” she cuts your protest, voice sharp, “There’s only one person in that room, and it’s him. And you’ve done scarier than this, right?”

Your head wobbles in weakened agreement.

She links her arm through yours. “I remember,” she leads you downstairs, “a little girl with shaking knees, boarding a bus to camp for the summer. I remember her teary face, her tiny hand waving goodbye from the back window. Ain’t this just the same?”

Your bridesmaids slip past, hoisting their silky dresses above their ankles as they tackle the winding staircase.

“Alright, well,” you sniff, “I was eleven when I went to camp, so. Significant difference.”

“I disagree,” she says. “It’s a scary thing to do when you’re eleven, and maybe getting married is a scary thing to do when you’re thirty. But you got on that bus because you wanted to, and you’re doing this because you want it, too. It’s simple, sweetheart.”

She pauses a step below. Her hands drop from yours. Her eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spoil her makeup.

“Sometimes,” she whispers, “we mistake fear for excitement. Butterflies can feel an awful lot like nerves. Sometimes, something scary can take a similar shape to something wonderful. And you never know the difference until you step on that bus.”

She takes another step down and you reach for her hands – the same way you reached for them at the school gates, twenty years ago.

“Mom –” you squeak, twisting your fingers around hers.

She kisses your knuckles. “You are going to live the happiest life with him, I just know it. You’re going to take such good care of each other.”

She skips off around the bend in the stairs, shawl flurrying. At the bottom, she crosses paths with someone, squeezes their sleeve with affection.

He sways into view slowly, carefully, like he’s trying not to spook. Hands in his pockets, suit sleek and smart. Beard trimmed as close as you’d allow, hair fixed as neat as he’d allow.

He cleans up good. He always has. If it weren’t for the handrail, you might faint into his arms.

When he speaks, his voice is light, warm, soft on your skin. Wraps around you and draws you in, safe and sound. Calls you home.

“There’s my girl.”

And you walk to him.

“Hi,” you say, voice soft, heels clicking.

Joel watches every step. His eyes loop up and down your figure, scanning from the swishing hem of your dress to the twinkle in your eyes. He’s somewhere between the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, and shattering into tears.

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighs as you twirl into his arms, “You are so beautiful.”

You straighten the flower in his pocket. “You’re pretty beautiful, too.”

You fall together, bodies magnetized. Joel’s chin lifts and your lips connect in a tender kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, hands travelling north along the figure-hugging material of your dress.

“Good choice,” he mumbles into your mouth.

“Mhm,” you reply, a joyful lilt to it. “Knew it was a winner.”

You stand for a moment, swaying together. Your arms crossed around his neck, his snug around your waist. Breathing one another in, steadying each other. Souls finding the other again.

Some last-minute guests scurry through the doors over his shoulder. Their footsteps echo through the hall as they find their seats. Joel holds you all the tighter.

“You ready for this?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. More than I’ve ever been, my whole life.”

“We can still call it off,” he smirks, “Take off on the honeymoon, never talk to any of these assholes again.”

He laughs when you do, relief blooming on his face.

“No, Joel,” you say. Your voice feels clearer, stronger with your body against his. “I love you. I love you so much, and I…I wanna get on the bus.”

His brows pinch. He tilts his head, scoops your jaw. “You…Wh–? What, baby?”

You nod to yourself, staring at his tie. “I wanna get on the bus,” you repeat, voice barely there.

He blinks down at you. His thumb strokes your cheek. He makes to reply – some dumbfounded quip, probably – when a voice splits you apart.

“Psst! You two!”

Your mom ducks her head out into the entrance hall. She clicks her fingers. “They need you up front, Miller.”

He nods and turns back to you, bending to look you in the eye. “Catch your breath,” he says. “Just a little while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you decide. “I’m ready.”

“Alright. Then let’s get on this goddamned bus, whatever the hell that means.”

The celebration is alive with a string melody, the tinkling of glasses, and bursts of sweet laughter.

Your cheeks ache from all the smiling. Your throat is dry from all the talking. And you don’t care. You could do this for the rest of your life, if Joel would let you.

Turns out getting married is pretty fun – once you’ve done it, that is. When all that’s left is to swing between tables, chat until you run out of breath, dance until your feet hurt. Eat until you feel sick, drink until your head dizzies, weep in the bathroom with your friends then reapply your makeup and repeat.

It’s a year-long effort with only a day’s payout – but as far as days go, it’s not half bad.

In the same grand hall you said I do in three hours ago – soaring windows with drapes strung to the heavens, pale flowers arranged on every table, chandeliers glistening overhead – you search for the one missing piece.

“Have you seen my husband?”

Drew scoffs as he approaches your spinning figure. Beer in one hand, his daughter in the other. He shakes his head, laughing.

“You ain’t used to saying that yet, are you?”

“Nope,” you pinch his daughter’s hands, “and I hope I never am.”

She squeals with laughter, kicking her legs under swirls of chiffon. She throws herself out of her father’s arms into yours and you catch her, perching her on your hip.

“Good for you, kid,” Drew says. “You deserve it. You both do.”

You smile and peer down at the toddler tugging on your diamond necklace. “Your uncle Joel bought me this,” you babble in her ear. “If it breaks, you’re one sorry individual.”

She giggles all the louder.

“Last I saw him,” Drew tilts his bottle towards the patio doors, “he was out on the terrace.”

Your eyes flit to the twinkling, dusky sky. “Alone?”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

You pass his daughter back, fixing the bow on her dress. “I’ll find him. Thanks, Drew.”

The breeze breathes between the doors as you walk over. It’s a chilled night, but the fresh air is a welcome breather from the busy dancefloor.

Veiled by the sheer curtains, his figure relaxes against the balcony, staring out at the rolling lawn. He exhales a thick, scattered cloud of white to the sky. His head turns at the sound of your heels on the patio.

“Nice view, huh?”

Joel hums. His voice is clotted with tobacco. “Sure is, Mrs. Miller. Fine choice of venue.”

“Teamwork,” you reply, and pat your fingers against his palm in a weak high five. You cross your wrists over his shoulder and stare out at the mountains in the distance. “Out here all by yourself?”

“Just needed a moment. Take it all in.” He tilts the cigar in his hand. “Make use of my wedding gift from my best man.”

There’s a blanket of chill slowly settling over the valley. It hugs a little too tight around your bare arms. You shiver, nestling closer to Joel, and he straightens.

“Here, baby,” he says, shrugging his jacket off. He drapes it over your shoulders and rubs them warm. He plucks the cigar from its ashtray, offering it silently.

You scoff. “I’m not gonna like it.”

“I know,” Joel replies, “but we’re celebrating.”

The stick is heavier than you expected, dry and hard between your fingers. The cap is sliced, dampened by Joel’s lips.

He watches your mouth, smiling when you inhale. “Not too much,” he clasps your wrist lightly, “Only a little.”

It’s rancid, if you’re honest. Clogs your lungs with what feels like unbreathable heat, a sickly-sweet flavor that crinkles your nose. The smoke punches from your lungs in a broken cough. And once they’re clear – you lift the cigar for more.

“Alright,” Joel says, taking it back after a couple more puffs. “That’s enough, Kennedy. Like it?”

“Not bad,” you croak, stealing a swig of his champagne. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

“No, ma’am.”

You lean into him, elbows on the railing, following his outstretched hand as he points out each mountain peak.

He talks about the years he and Tommy spent camping, the long fishing trips with his dad. Regales in excruciating detail the time he pitched his tent right by a cluster of poison ivy, and woke up covered in bloody, blotchy blisters.

He talks about all of it easier than he has in years. As though the dust has settled over the memories, the good and the bad, and all that’s left is to look. No more shifting things around in his mind, trying to find where it all fits. Everything is exactly where it needs to be.

After a while, he kisses your head. “Hey,” he says. “Congratulations.”

You lift your head. “You, too…?”

“You got married today.”

“Did I? Shit, I didn’t mean to.”

He flicks his eyebrows. “That something you saw yourself doing, five years ago?”

No. Not at all. But then my boss held my waist to his in a dive bar, and – you know the rest.

“Hm,” you flatten your lips, “No, but then – you’re not something I saw myself doing, five years ago.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Stay classy, pretty girl.”

You giggle. “I’d do anything, long as it’s with you. Mess around on the first date, fly to Paris on the second. Meet your mom, like, three weeks in.”

“You are not countin’ that lunch with James from accounting as our first date,” he protests. “That shitshow was not our first date.”

“You paid for my meal and you fucked me in the bathroom. Date.”

“No,” he points a telling finger in your direction, “No. If we have kids one day, they’re going to ask. We gotta get our story straight. Our first date was Paris. I took you to Paris.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” You bunch your shoulders, snuggling deeper into his jacket. “Deep down, you know the truth.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“What do you wanna talk about?”

He searches the skyline, plucking up courage when the last of the setting sun catches his eye. “Well,” he sounds nervous, “I thought I could give you your gift.”

You fiddle with your necklace. “I thought you already did.”

Joel shakes his head. He takes your wrists and lifts your hands. “Close your eyes.”

“If you drop a living thing into my hands, Miller,” you screw your eyes shut, “Divorce.”

“Uhuh,” he mutters.

He holds your hands in one of his. There’s the ruffling of linen, a faint jingling, a roaring cheer from inside.

There’s the cold kiss of metal in the cushion of your palm – tiny, featherlight – followed by a coiling, and something jagged.

You hold in a laugh, breathing nervously. “I’m scared,” you whisper, and Joel kisses the hinge of your wrist.

“You trust me?” he asks.

“I trust you.”

“Then, open.”

Your eyes flutter, and there he is. Still standing before you, still smiling. Still holding your hands. He nods down, and you look.

In your palms lies a small brass key. On the end of the chain, a single silver maple leaf tag. It winks back at you, moonlight reflected in its grooves.

You lift the key. It’s worn by time, metal nicked and imperfect. Brass a little tarnished. The leaf sways in your clutch.

“Maple?” you ask, and Joel nods. Your eyes begin to well.

“I know we’re happy in the city,” he says, “and I know it’s just some little paint-chipped house. It’s probably still got school reports ‘n shitty comics up in the attic. I just – God, I can’t shake it, baby.”

You look up at him, a question in your teary gaze.

“A little birdie once taught me,” he steps closer, “that it’s okay to lose things. To let ‘em go. I didn’t believe her at the time. I was scared. Scared to lose her, scared she might find something better. I reckon she was pretty scared, too, but – even when I thought I lost her, she came back.

“She said this thing about making new memories. Better memories. And I just can’t shake it.”

The words catch on your tongue on their way out. You’re only just now realizing how different life was before. Before him, before this. How empty and cold it felt, how little you noticed before the sun peered through the clouds and said something in a drawl laced with love and humor.

How quickly you ran into its warm, open arms.

Joel goes on. “The guys are making a real good job of it. They said there’s plenty potential, and you know it has that huge yard. Now, if you don’t want it, say the word and it’s gone. Out of our hands. But,” his voice breaks, “if you do, then – it’s yours, darlin’. It’s been yours since the moment you walked through the door.”

And, well – hasn’t everything?

The job was yours the very second you tiptoed into his office. He told you so himself. The job, the desk, the free trip to Europe. You walked into his life and flipped everything on its head, without even knowing it.

You worked for him for three years before anything ever happened. Three whole years of elbow nudges and fleeting glances and one too many questions about whoever the other was dating. Joel figures he loved you all that time. You figure you loved him, too.

You changed everything for him. From that first glance, the first meeting of your hands, nothing was ever the same. All of it, from the spare cabinet in his bathroom to the third finger on his left hand – it was all just waiting for you to make it your own.

Hasn’t Joel’s heart belonged to you since you first laid eyes on each other?

You turn the key between your fingers. The answer rolls along the tip of your tongue. The longer you stay quiet, the more nervous you know he’s feeling.

Your eyes meet his – and you smile.

“I want a porch swing.”

Joel chuckles. “Done.”

“And we host Thanksgiving every year.”

“Every year?” He almost grimaces.

You’re staring each other down. It’s as much a game as it is a genuine request, like most of what you do. Just as much teasing as sincere.

You nod. “Every. Year.”

“Okay,” he relents. “Anything else?”

Your eyes drift off behind him. Inside one of the windows, Drew and Rachel twirl their little girl in time with a familiar guitar melody. She throws her head back in a fit of laughter and they pick her up, spinning her around.

Joel glances over his shoulder. He breathes a laugh. “I’ll give you that tonight if you really want it.”

You lean into his chest and kiss his jaw. “I just want you.”

“You got me,” he says. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

The rest of the band kicks in. The raspy lead singer, the perky drum beat. The dancefloor fills some, hands thrown to the ceiling, glasses spilling over.

You bite down on a smile, eyes flitting to Joel’s.

He twists his shoe into the patio, nudging into your side. He extends his arm and you link yours through, following his lead inside. “Good song,” he mutters.

“Hm,” you agree. “Little before my time.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink roses

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, female receiving oral, CHEATING!, ex!rafe, mentions of violence and drinking, its valentines day during the second part of the fic :)

you moved on. thats what you tell everyone. absolutely over rafe, even got a new boyfriend. 

you definitely don’t think of your ex every time you kiss him or hold his hand. definitely don’t think of rafe when your new man is between your legs.

“hey baby.” darren says, giving you a tight hug after you open the door, not cradling your body against his like rafe used to.

“hi.” you smile, letting him into your house. “just give me like five minutes to touch up my makeup then we can head up.” “okay.” darren nods. you frown as you walk up the stairs, knowing its not the response rafe would have given you. he would have said that you already look perfect, not needing to touch anything up (though you would absolutely still reapply blush and swipe on some more lipgloss).

you don’t even feel like going to a party tonight, only going because darren has some friends that he wants you to meet. truthfully, you know you’re using darren. you know that he’s just a fling to get over rafe, and you feel guilty when he clearly values you and wants to show you off.

“ready!” you call as your heels click down the stairs.

“perfect.” darren smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out to his car, having to tug your dress down to not reveal yourself as you lower into the passenger side of his sedan.

“where is this party at anyways?” you ask, inspecting your fingernails, freshly painted in a lightly shimmery pink.

“topper thorton.” darren says. he must see your face go pale. “why, do you know him?”

“uh, yeah.” you pick at a nonexistent thread on your skirt. “he's my exes friend. you know, rafe. the one everyone warned you about.”

you chose to rebound with darren because he had just moved to town, wouldn't be scared into silence from rafes reputation alone.

“ah, damn.” darren says, but doesn't ask if you still want to attend. you know you're going to see rafe, and you're honestly not sure if you can see him touching other girls.

you are quiet until you get to the party, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as darren leads you inside, the music bounding out of the speakers, so loud it almost shakes the house.

“y/n!” toppers eyes are wide when he spots you. “didn't expect to see you here.”

“yeah…” you suddenly feel awkward and insecure in your dress, tugging the hem lower.

“rafe is um… rafe is on the patio. i would avoid him if i were you. he's… he's not the same since the breakup.” topper nods to you before walking away. 

“you said this rafe guy broke up with you, right?” darren asks.

“yeah.” you nod, feeling like you can't form any other word.

“then why does he care? who cares if he sees you? im not letting some random guy stop me from going where i want with my girlfriend, come on.” darren grabs your hand, tugging you towards the back of the house.

“darren, no!” you shout, but he's moving too quickly, the music too loud for him to hear you yell, and before you can grind your feet to a halt, you're out on the patio. your eyes flicker around, trying to pick the familiar face out of the crowd when you suddenly see rafe, his eyes already bouring into you.

“come on, let's dance baby!” darren says, your gaze fixed on rafe as darren moves behind you, grinding into your bum. you can't move, stuck in the power of his blue eyes.

“do you not like this song?” darren asks, having to shout into your ear as someone turns the music up impossibly louder.

“i told you, my ex.” you say, line of sight being broken by dancing bodies, finally allowing you to take a deep breath and move, turning to face darren.

“what? you not over him or something?” darren asks, his expression suddenly turning a mix of anger and disappointment.

“no!” you echo what you tell everyone. “no, it's just the first time ive seen him since the break up. it's just… weird.”

“okay.” darren says, but you can tell by his tone that he's going to bring it up later, and it's not really the end of the conversation, just for now.

“shit, there's my boys!” darren's expression quickly changes. you watch as he daps up two guys, who he then introduces to you, but you don't even hear their names, barely able to nod and smile, putting on a pretty face while your mind is other where. you know that's all you're truly there for anyways, a nice grin and tight dress for darren to flaunt.

he leads you back inside and away from the loud speakers so he can sit and chat with his friends. your eyes continually scan the room and the entryways, waiting to see those blue eyes and sandy blond hair.

“darren, baby, im gonna go use the bathroom.” you tell him as he takes a sip of his beer. you just need to move, feeling like a sitting duck just waiting for a predator to strike.

“alright.” darren literally waves you off, too enticed by the conversation his friend, who you thinks name is matt, or maybe mark. miles? 

you stand up, having memorized the layout of toppers house from parties with rafe. you know the most private bathroom is upstairs and inside of one of the tucked away guest room, a guest room rafe often took you to. 

you push past people to get to the stairs, dodging couples making out on the steps as you make your way up. you sigh when you finally get the guest bedroom door closed behind you, glad to be alone and somewhere somewhat quiet compared to the sensory overload of the rest of the house. 

you turn towards the room, ready to head towards the bathroom door when you see a slight movement in the shadow. you reach behind you for the light switch, feeling across the wall, sure that your eyes are just playing tricks on you, but as the ceiling light illuminates the room, you come face to face with the one man you didn't want to see.

“rafe, i-” you cut yourself off. you don't know what to say, have no excuse. a small part of you knows you said you had to use the bathroom just to get back into this room, look at the bed that rafe took you on so many times.

“he's not as tall as me.” rafe says. “you hate guys with that color hair.”

you urge your hand to reach for the doorknob and flee, but rafes deep voice keeps you captive.

“i would never ignore you like he does in favor of stupid fucking friends.” damn, so rafe was watching, and you couldnt even tell, probably too far in your own head.

“and im sure he doesn't fuck you like i do.” rafe steps towards you, having to round the bed from where he was leaning against the corner of the wall. “tell me y/n… does he make you cum as much as i do?”

“did.” you manage to bite out. “in case you forgot, you broke up with me. not the other way around.”

“i didn't expect you to settle for such trash.” rafe is now only feet away. he smirks as his eyes glide down your body and tight dress before landing back on your face. “you look stressed, baby. he's not giving it as good as me at all.”

rafe sighs like he truly cares about the kind of service you're getting in the bedroom.

“he's fine.” you argue back, the best defense you can manage. rafe was always able to tell when you were lying.

“so if i offer to eat you out right now, you'd say no? don't want my tongue, baby?”

“this isn’t fair, rafe.” you say bluntly. “you can’t break up with me only to tease me like this.” “get on the bed, underwear off.” rafe simply commands. your body moves before your mind does, still trained to his instructions. and once your underwear is on the floor, you figure theres no point in stopping now.

you do think briefly to darren, chatting innocently away with his friends downstairs, not a clue that your ex is about to go down on you, but when rafe lays between your thighs, your thoughts couldn’t be farther from darren.

“the most gorgeous pussy i’ve ever seen.” rafe says, pushing your dress further up your body. “missed her so much.”

rafe leans forward, tongue instantly zeroing in on your clit, switching between rubbing with the tip of his tongue and lapping over it in broad strokes.

“oh fuck!” you moan out, head pressing back into the pillow, sure to ruin your perfect hair.

“little bit louder and your new boyfriend might hear you.” rafe smirks before letting his tongue explore your cunt, even slurping at your juices.

“shut up, you’re so fucking unfair.” you groan, but reach down to grip his hair and push his face further into your pussy.

rafe shows you just how skilled he is with his mouth. there really is no comparison to darren, who you swear things your left lip is your clit.

rafe focuses in on your entrance, tongue sweeping in tighter and tighter circles until it juts forward into your hole, taking a moment to appreciate being back inside your tight heat before he begins to thrust his tongue, his thumb moving to rub your clit.

“tell me i’m better.” rafe says, barely pulling away to speak the words. “no.” you shake your head. you shouldn’t give rafe the satisfaction of admitting it, as if your moans aren’t evident enough.

“tell me or i’ll stop right now. won’t make you cum.” 

“fine.” you close your eyes, as if somehow not seeing rafe makes it less like you’re cheating. “you’re better than him. just, please.” 

you’re not above begging. you wish you could say that you were better than that, better than getting into bed with your ex the first time you see him.

“there’s my good girl.” rafe purrs out in his oh so seductive voice. he resumes movement of his thumb, rubbing you just the way you like, knowing it brings you to the edge quickly as his tongue continues to thrust inside of you.

“oh, oh my god! rafe!” you shout his name as his thumb quickens until it’s all too much, a flood of wetness gushing out as your back arches off the bed, hands gripping at the duvet. rafe continues his movements as your high works its way through your body until the snap of sensitivity hits and you have to shove his hand away.

you blink your eyes open, vision slightly blurry as you look down at rafe between your legs, face going pale when you realize that you didn’t just cum, but squirted, leaving rafes face dripping.

“holy shit, it really has been a long time since you came if you’re squirting like that.” rafe chuckles, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, only for his tongue to dart out and lick the juices off his skin.

“you-you-” realization comes flooding back of what you just did. you may know that you’re using darren, but you never intended it to go as far as to cheat on him.

“i only did what you wanted me too. even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.” rafe moves up to a kneeling position, his cock clearly straining against his pants. “want me to fuck you now baby? i know you’ve missed this big dick.”

“no!” you snap your thighs together, mind much clearer now that you’ve gotten your orgasm. “no, i-i have a boyfriend!”

“go downstairs and break up with him and then come back up here and let me hit.” rafe says, tapping your hip to get you moving. 

“i am going downstairs.” you say, swinging your legs off the bed. “but it’s because this was a mistake.” you grab your underwear off the floor and put them back on before attempting to readjust your dress and hair to acceptable levels, well aware that darren must be wondering where you are by now, having been gone for so long.

“baby-” rafe tries to stop you, but you’re already out the door. 

--

“oh baby, this is so sweet!” you plaster on a fake smile. you were easily able to explain to darren what happened at the party a few weeks ago. you got caught up talking with some old friends and the time slipped away from you. not completely a lie.

you’ve avoided being out in public at all for fear of seeing rafe. you’ve even manage to banish most thoughts of him. most… except for when he forces his way back into your mind when your fingers are in between your legs, finishing yourself off after darren had gone to sleep next to you.

“a beautiful red rose for my valentine.” darren gives you a kiss on the cheek as you smile at the rose. it’s a nice gesture, it is valentines day after all and he is your boyfriend, but you just don’t feel in the spirit of the holiday, mostly because you aren’t in love and are just waiting for the right moment to break up.

you pull out your phone, opening up your instagram and snapping a photo of you holding the red rose, quickly uploading it to your story.

“what else do you have planned for today?” you ask darren, but his face quickly grows pale and you realize he doesn’t have anything else planned, thinking a singular red rose was all he needed to please you.

“we could go to the park later.” he recovers quickly. “have a nice picnic.”

“okay, sounds good.” you nod. “i’m gonna go put this in water.”

you flee quickly to the kitchen, leaving your boyfriend sat in your living room. your parents are rarely home, spending all of their time traveling when your dad isn’t working out business deals, and it feels like darren has practically moved in since they’re rarely home, and it’s only causing a bigger divide in your relationship.

you get the rose put in a vase with some fresh water when your phone vibrates from your pocket. you grab it out, eyes widening when you see that rafe has replied to your story.

doesn’t he know you like pink roses?

the doorbell rings, making you drop your phone with a loud clatter onto the countertop.

“i’ll get it!” darren calls out before you can process the sound, suddenly rushing after him as he opens the door to reveal rafe standing on your doorstep, not just one pink rose but an entire armful of them, the largest and most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen.

“who the fuck are you?” darren asks, but rafe looks right past him to where you’re stuck frozen in the foyer.

“i’m giving y/n the valentines day flowers that she deserves.” rafe pushes past darren with ease, transferring the large bouquet into your arms.

“and you’re getting the fuck out.” rafe turns to darren, now blocking him from moving back into the house.

“fuck if i am.” darren laughs. “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“she’s only your girlfriend because i broke up with her knowing she was too good for me and needed to find someone better, but instead she settled for you.” rafe turns his head to look at you, his voice softening. “it’s okay, sweetheart. i don’t blame you.” 

“lets let y/n decide.” darren says, rightly deciding not to fight rafe, being smart for once in his life knowing rafe would easily annihilate him, but wrongly thinking that you would choose him.

“get out.” you say, eyes moving to darren. “get out, darren. i don’t even like red roses.”

“baby-” darren begins to argue, but then rafe surges forward, shoving him out of the door before slamming it in his face.

rafe takes a deep breath before turning to you, looking so small with the roses drowning in your arms.

“i’ve missed you.” rafe moves towards you, his hands cradling your face and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i’m sorry for breaking up with you, princess. thought you could do better.”

“i’m just glad you’re back.” you lean forward, rafe quickly understanding that you’re asking for more kisses as his lips glide over yours, familiar and warm.

“let me carry these for you.” rafe scoops the bouquet out of your arms. “and then you can go ahead and get ready for all the things i have planned for today while i gather your exes shit and make sure he knows to never come back here again.” you giggle and follow rafe, knowing you should feel bad for dragging darren into the mess that is rafe, but you’re just happy that he served as a distraction before rafe came back.

rafe walks up to your room, glad to be back in your house. he realized seeing you with a new guy how much of a mistake he made and knew it had to be corrected.

rafe sets the roses on the bench at the base of your bed before frowning at the bed itself, your side clearly neatly made while the side that used to belong to darren is a mess still, showing a complete disrespect for how you like to keep your belongings. 

“i’m trying to decide between fucking you on the sheets he used to sleep in or taking them outside and burning them.” rafe says, placing his hands on his hips.

“maybe…” you wrap your arm around rafes waist as you bury your head into his back. “we add buying new bedding to your valentines day plans?”

rafe turns around to take you into his arms, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “you’re always gonna be my valentine from now on, baby. i love you.”

you shift your weight to your toes as you lean up to kiss rafe, his mouth slowly moving over yours as you make out, feeling him swell against your lower stomach.

“i don’t think i can wait until after we buy new bedding, baby.” rafe groans.

“well… i do need to take a shower before we go.” you smirk, walking backwards towards your attached bathroom, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“and you know how much i love to conserve water.” rafe chuckles, following you as your clothes hit the floor.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[munsonify]

good morning kiss

pairing. eddie munson x fem!reader

summary. after endless attempts to try and wake you up, eddie’s kisses are finally what make your eyes open up

genre. fluff

warning/s. pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), reference to being “his girl” and a “sleeping beauty”, she/her pronouns, kissing, slight allusions to sex (in past memory)

authors note. i’m so sorry if the pov is weird in this?? i tried writing this differently than i usually write my fics, so i think i might’ve been switching between past and present tense. anyways i hope you guys like this!!

word count. 529

disney princess collection

you look so peaceful. your eyes rest closed, body slumped into eddie’s bed. even in one of his ratty old kiss t-shirts and your cheek pressed against his floppy pillow, you look so beautiful.

it’s late april, sunlight spilling in through the window, catching his dusty blinds to cast shadows against his blankets. only glimpses of you illuminated - your right eyelashes, the bridge of your nose, one corner of your mouth that twitches ever so slightly in your sleep.

as much as eddie loves admiring you (with his distaste for interrupting your peace much stronger), you two had only 30 minutes to get ready for school. with a soft smile, eddie’s hand gently squeezes at your hip, shaking you with care. he knows you never wake from the first few shakes.

two more gentle shakes go by before he starts tracing his fingers beneath your his shirt. eddie’s voice, though a little gravelly, whispers softly into your ear, trying to ease you awake the best he can.

“gotta wake up sweetheart, don’t want you late again this week.”

you had two very logical explanations as to why you were late two times already this week. you spent monday morning preoccupied with the way eddie’s hand felt on your thigh on the drive to school. completely not your fault.

as for your second tardy, tuesday morning, you spent twenty minutes helping eddie replace the flat tire on your car. he insisted that it couldn’t wait, and that you need reliable transportation outside of himself. as if he’d ever say no to giving his girl a ride.

eddie still failed to wake you. your back was turned to him, though he could still see some of your face. the corner of your lip twitches again, but this time it looked somewhat like a smile to him.

with raised eyebrows, eddie pushes his weight up and over top of you to get a better look of your face. his fingers find their way to your tummy now, softly feeling your skin. he desperately wants you to keep resting. everything in him tells him to let you be. eddie, however, knew he’d feel guilty letting you be late again.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he whines softly, watching as your eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. you’re faking being asleep. with a wide grin plastered onto his face, eddie decides to play into it. his fingers begin to dance against the ticklish spots on your skin. still, you force yourself to stay ‘asleep’.

“what’s a guy gotta do to get his sleeping beauty to awaken?” that’s when it dawns on him. a kiss. the hand that was once on your tummy reaches up to your cheeks, smushing them together gently.

only a few seconds later was your cheek greeted with a big, wet kiss. quiet giggles erupt from your chest, slowly twisting in eddie’s arms to face his direction. in between your giggles, you can hear him whisper “she has risen”.

he un-smushes your cheeks for just a second, giggling along with you as you speak quietly. “i think your sleeping beauty needs one last kiss on the lips to seal the deal.”

“anything for my princess.”

———

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[keferon]

I'm about to be running on very little sleep as Final's just hit. So I whipped this up really fast, because I am now a sucker for Texaid. Hopefully by the end of Finals I can start working on that texaid animatic i'd say i do. ________

[COME ON IN BABY~] The white text on Vortex's ever red screen showed, before he was opening up, allowing the medic turned pilot to step inside. Felix doesn’t think he’d ever get used to Vortex calling him baby, it was weird and annoying when he did it the first couple of times. But now It has become a comfort for him, it lets him know that Vortex is not really all that serious, and is trying to get a kick out of him.  All of his other pilots couldn’t take a joke, to which he reminds the haunted mecha that he killed or mentally damaged them before he really got to know any of them. [THEY WERE NEVER AS FUN AS YOU.]

“Flattered.”

Felix takes his seat, hooking himself up with the neural link so they can talk in real time.

“So any big plans on how to take care of this one?” The mecha powers up, much like the few others still in the station. Rodimus, and a few others he has really only spoken to once, as they are still too scared of him and his mecha.

‘I’d say let's have some fun with it, we haven’t had one dancing in a while.’ Felix chuckled at the suggestion, but nods. It would be fun to get one of those aliens to get itself tangled up in its tentacles trying to grab at them.

‘I’d known you’d take my suggestion baby.’ xxx

[DO YOU TRULY FEEL SAFE INSIDE ME?]

Felix looks back at the closed visor, the dead of night had hit. Frankly Felix does not want to try and walk through the halls where he might end up running into Pharma, he’s been acting weird lately, more than usual. 

“Yes, I do. Funny isn’t it. You can kill me in the most gruesome way, yet I'd much rather be with you, then finding myself face to face with a fellow human.” Felix smoothed out the sleeping bag on Vortex’s floor, fluffing up the pillow, then made his way inside to fall asleep. [YOU ARE WEIRD.] “I thought you liked that about me?” There was a long pause, before the sound of grinding gears entered his ears. The sound of metal laughing. 

[YES I DO. NOW SLEEP. BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND AND GRIND YOU UP INTO A PAST.] An empty threat. Felix finds himself smiling. He reached out of his sleeping bag to pat at the surprisingly warm metal. “Whatever you say, Vortex.” His eyes were already shut, not being able to see the next line of text.

[SLEEP WELL FELIX BABY.]

xxx

[STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING HIM, STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING HIM, STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING ME, STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING US.] No matter how much he begged for Felix’s life, no matter if Shockwave could see him or not. The mad scientist was not stopping, Felix’s screams were not ceasing. 

While the screams of the perishing were normally something he relished in, delighted in hearing. This was not one he ever wished to hear. The agony in Felix's voice was loud and uncomfortable, he wished he could reach inside of himself and pull Felix out. 

But that would hurt Felix, he knows it will. It would harm him to a point he could no longer be his pilot. So he pleaded, he did something he never thought he’d stoop so low too. Yet he did. He did it because he wanted to stay by Felix’s side for as long as he could. 

Because he wanted to hear Flixes’s voice, he wanted to feel his excitement as they crushed the alien invaders, his curiosity when dissecting them to see how their body’s worked. He wanted their late night talks, just them in the silence of an inactive mecha charging station. 

He wanted this and so much more. 

But he won’t get it if Shockwave completely take’s over Felix’s body. 

He had to do something and fast.

‘Hang on Felix, I'm coming.�� 

My texaid soul IS THRIVING

[earthchica]

whiskey kisses

logan howlett x black! reader

summary: You are sexually frustrated and Wade tries to hook you up with Logan.

warning: explicit smut (18+), drinking alcohol, protected sex, dirty talking, foreplay, oral & vaginal fingering (f), pet names (sweet pea, baby, etc.)

__

"Hey Peter, how about another round?" You inquired with a smile, sliding your empty glass across the counter.

You were attending a party that your neighbor friend, Wade Wilson was throwing.

He's been encouraging you to socialize more ever since your messy divorce.

So here you were, all dressed up and feeling pretty. You were told there would be eligible bachelors here which got you thinking about having a lighthearted post-divorce fling.

You jolted back to reality when a familiar voice called your name. You swiveled around to find Wade.

"Anyone caught your eye yet?" He chirped, plopping down beside you at the small bar.

"Wade, you promised eligible bachelors at this party, but I'm not spotting any," You exclaimed, swiveling on your stool to scan the room.

"Yeah…I know sweet pea. I just told you that so you can hook up with the perfect guy to blow your back out" He quipped, gesturing towards Logan who was sitting in the corner, sipping a glass of whiskey.

"What about Logan? He's single, trustworthy, and easy on the eyes.," He whispered that last part with a grin.

"No, Wade. No, I can't ask him. That would be weird; plus he's a friend," You declined, shaking your head.

"Why the hell not? Maybe he'd say yes if you asked. Come on, you asked me for help and I've given it to you" He pressed.

"Ugh…what? No way…I can't just be like, 'Hey, logan feeling lonely, wanna…you know fuck?" You joked, rolling your eyes.

"Oh my god, if you go up and say that to him…I think I'll die happy" Wade says, sharing a glance with you, and you both burst into laughter.

"Okay, that was a bit much, but still. Logan….I don't think he's the type of guy who would be into that"

"_____, I'm gonna be honest. You gotta stop being so fucking uptight and just go with the flow, sweet pea"

"Whoa, hold up! I am not uptight," You fire back, arms crossed in defense.

"sweet pea, this is me you're talking to. You know I'm right" He teases, raising an eyebrow.

"Ugh…fine," You shake your head, slightly irritated. "Yay, now come on!" He chuckles, tugging you along.

"Where are we going?" You ask, feeling a bit jittery.

"Going to have fun, something you're overdue for," Wade replies, pulling you to the dance floor.

You take a deep breath, let loose, and groove to the music, swinging your hips from side to side.

"Oh look who's watching you," He whispers in your ear, and Logan looks at you with a deep gaze, jealousy gracing his face.

He was eyeing you like a lion tracking its prey, a new look that intrigued you.

It's kind of, a turn-on.

"Take the hint!" Wade nudges before going to join Vanessa. A favorite song of yours started blasting.

It was time to crank up the sass and put on a show for his eyes only. You shut your eyes and let your hips groove, causing a commotion with your ass.

A cheeky grin crept onto your face as a familiar hand landed on your lower back.

"You took your sweet time," You teased, sensing his flawless frame snug against yours.

His touch glided over the silky material of your dress as we swayed in sync on the dance floor, perfectly attuned to each other's beat.

"You look so gorgeous tonight, sweetheart. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you…I've been holding back saying this but I want you," Logan murmurs in your ear.

"What do you mean, you want me?" You inquire, fully aware of his intentions, yet craving to hear him verbalize them.

"You know what I mean! I'm attracted to you, always have been. When we first met I thought you were the most gorgeous woman" he declares, gently turning your body to meet his gaze.

His gaze pierced through you, those hazel brown eyes longing for something untold.

"You'll be amazed by how irresistible I am," You teased, nervously nibbling on your lip.

His lips inch closer to your ears, the warmth of his breath dancing tantalizingly on your brown skin.

"Can I kiss you?" he murmurs, and in a split second, you yank him closer for a fiery smooch, tangling your fingers in his hair.

His hands decided to take a detour from your waist to my backside, giving it a playful pat.

Breaking away from the kiss, he rose to his full height, enjoying how he towered you.

"Let's go somewhere…more private" he declares, not bothering to hear your response.

You both waved goodbye to everyone, made your grand exit, and quickly made it to your apartment

_

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll forget your name" Logan whispered, leaving kisses down the back of your neck.

You both triumphantly crossed the threshold of your front door, while kissing and touching all over.

Logan pulls away to lift you up and secure your legs around his waist, before carrying you to your bedroom following your instructions.

He sets you down on the bed before enjoying you. He begins kissing and caressing your neck.

His hand moves under your dress to softly stroking through your panties.

You gently pushed him back, removing his shirt and tossing it across the room. Then, your hands move to his pants' belt.

You played with the belt for a second until it was finally unlatched. You noticed a noticeable bulge starting to emerge in his underwear.

You lightly grazed against his pants, and he let out a groan. You swiftly turned him onto his back and liberated him from his pants and underwear.

You couldn't resist a dramatic gasp! You looked at his big, juicy erect member.

How the hell was that going to fit?

"This is all for you, amor" Logan teases, almost tearing your dress off in one swift move!

He let out a gasp when he caught a glimpse of your big, plump breasts and your black panties

"Oh sweetheart, you have the most perfect tits I have ever seen," He says, cheekily flipping you over and playfully swiping your panties off!

He makes his way down to your entrance, giving you a few light circle strokes before inserting two fingers into your dripping core.

"Logan, please!" You moaned in pleasure, trying to push him away because the faster he thrust his fingers in and out of you.

The louder you get.

"Tell me what you want, baby? and I'll give it to you" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine while still fingering the heck out of you.

"I-I-want you to fuck me." You screamed through your orgasm and as you came down from your high.

Logan begins leaving sweet kisses down your neck as you catch your breath.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, watching him slurp his fingers spotless. He nodded and dashed off the bed to grab one from his pants.

Logan gets back on the bed, rolling the condom on his member before spreading your legs open to position himself at your core

"Ahh Fuck!" You gasped, feeling how huge he was and loving how he stretched you out.

You placed your hand on his hip as he began to thrust in and out, holding your waist.

"Shit baby…you feel like heaven. I could stay inside of you forever" His thrusts became faster, looking down, admiring the way his member moves in and out of you.

"Logan, don't stop" You let out a dramatic moan as he lifted you and plopped down on his back.

"I would never stop" He starts pounding up into you with some unbelievable force, making you scream in pleasure.

You threw your head back, placing your hands on his chest; trying to match his rhythm of thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Just like that" You moaned, feeling another orgasm getting closer and closer.

"You like that huh, does it feel good? You've always dreamed of this moment huh, baby?" Logan moans, grabbing your breast for a second, letting you bounce up and down his shaft.

"Yes, so good! It feels so good, Logan" You cried as he kept going and going, feeling like you were gonna lose your damn mind.

He stopped you for a second and pulled out, changing the position with your face down and your ass up.

"Oh…baby. You also have the most perfect ass" Logan groans, smacking your ass over and over again while pounding into your core.

"LOGAN!" You cried, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. He brought you up and wrapped his hand around your throat while his other hand rubbed your entrance.

"Come. Come for me, my sweet girl!" He whispers in your ear, and you let out a scream, feeling the great release.

Logan curses while pulling out, rips the condom off, and comes all over your ass.

You landed smack on your belly, catching a mischievous grin on his face before closing your eyes.

"Fuck…I love you…You are so…" Realizing what he was saying, Logan went into full panic mode.

He looked down to see your reaction but breathed a sigh of relief realizing you were out cold.

[hyunjinsjeans]

Breakfast in bed (Bangchan x Reader)

Summary: going with Chan on his trip to America you can’t let an opportunity to give it a try to have that baby you talked about pass you by.

Type: Fluff 🧸, NSFW 🔞

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex (don’t do it, guys!) , little proofreading.

Word count: 2263 words

Related: He Knows (Chan ver.)

Masterlist Here

AN: This fic is a part 2 to Bangchan’s version of the He Knows Series. It can also be read as a stand alone. There is so little plot, I’m a little sorry. I’m also a little shy around smut still but I’m trying guys 👉👈This is the first one! Let’s go!

You breathe in the morning air. America has been wonderful, after Chan decided to bring you along only a few days before the departure date, you had to get the days off from work and plan accordingly.

Chan finds himself dragging you behind him everywhere, he cannot help it. While he is in his leader mindset, he is also so unable to disconnect from you. You experience his bossy side first hand. He is strict and direct, and he does not play games with the boys whenever they begin having too much fun during dance practice.

Chicago has been kind to the boys, even though they have spent little time on their own personal interests, you still find yourself having a great time seeing them all do what they love. Their set was a massive hit, the boys had great fun and Felix went a little overboard on stage… You enjoyed the show from a spot backstage with some of their staff as well as Changbin!Reader and Felix!Reader who had made it with their little ones.

“Hey… what are you doing all the way over there?” He drops his arm over his eyes as he lays on his back in the bed.

You hear his voice and smile from the open balcony. You turn in your old snoopy pj shorts and shirt and look at him, forgetting about the birds that fly above the busy city. You’ve already made coffee on the coffee machine in the small hotel room, the small mug between your hands.

“Morning, sleepy head!” You step aside and close the balcony sliding door. “I was just having a second with my thoughts, how’d you sleep?”

Chan sighs but does not move a muscle, still tired. You walk up to the bed, leaving the coffee on the bedside table and sit next to him, placing your hand on his forearm you pull the limb away from his face and whisper.

“Mmm, that good?” You arch an eyebrow and watch him whine.

He rolls on his side and wraps his arm around you, dragging you down onto the bed beside him. “Yeah, it’s nice to share a hotel room with you…”

You complain as you drop on the bed, hands go reach out to him on instinct. “Chan!” You can hear him chuckle at your plea. “I’m telling Lee Know you don’t like sharing rooms with him.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around you, “tell him something he doesn’t know…”

You push his messy hair away from his face and examine his face. Eyes closed and expression full of glee. He takes a deep breath and you put your hand against his cheek, he smiles and puts his hand on top of yours, turning his face to kiss your palm.

“I’m so glad you could come. I miss you so much when you stay home.” He admits in a soft voice.

You hum and lean in to kiss his nose. “I know. I feel weird when you’re travelling.”

Chan opens his eyes and meets your gaze, his hand reaches out to touch your face too, his fingers drag along your temple and fix a strand of your hair behind your ear. You lean against him and let him turn to lay on his back again, now pulling you softly into his chest. You wrap your leg around his and let your arm rest on his stomach while your head finds the perfect spot on the crook of his neck.

“Remind me, what time are we supposed to check out?” You rub your nose against his skin, inhaling his scent with a soft smile on your face.

“This afternoon. I think they said at around 3…” his arms squeeze you against him, he closes his eyes when you start nipping at his neck, “babe, what are you doing?”

You smile and slip your hand slowly up his chest and neck until you reach his jaw, “I’m spoiling my husband, what are you doing?” You say playfully.

He chuckles, “well, obviously I’m being spoiled!”

You laugh against his skin, kissing his neck before throwing your head back to look at him.

“Should I stop?” you wait for his reply.

Chan’s grasp on you tightens, “I never said that!” He complains and you giggle in response.

“Oh, so I am allowed to give you hickeys?” You press your lips on his neck again.

“No, no, no!” He puts his hand on your hair and pulls you away softly, “I’m still the only one allowed to give hickeys.”

He stares at your neck for a moment and then his eyes meet yours, all sleep has disappeared from them all of a sudden.

“Mm, actually… let me fix you with one…” He dips his head into your neck and pushes his plush lips against your neck.

You close your eyes as his breath hits your skin and you feel him nibbling on the sensitive spot right under your ear. Your head falls on the pillow and you run your hands up and down his naked chest. He presses his body against you and you grip onto his shoulder, pulling him on top of you as you roll onto your back.

“Looks so pretty, babe.” He whispers when he pulls away and watches the small mark on your neck.

With a cloudy mind you sigh, while he is fully awake now you feel like you’re being put into a trance.

“Chan,” you whisper, combing his hair back with your fingers. “You do realise I have to walk behind you at the airport, right? Now sporting this thing on my neck.”

He smiles and chuckles, “couldn’t help it…” He brushes his nose against yours. “I remember seeing you dance and jump around last night. You looked so cute, so excited to watch us perform. I’m glad you had fun.”

You nod with your head still on the pillow. Looking up at Chan you understand a little better why he wanted you to come. It has been a couple of months since you two decided to grow the family, encouraged by those members who already had kids. The night before you had helped Changbin!Reader with her two year old, Hajoon. She was an excitable little girl and you had a lot of fun holding her and dancing, playing with her small hands as she giggled with her big noise cancelling headphones. Obviously, Chan was eager to watch you have that same kind of fun with a child of your own.

“Aw, are you getting the baby fever?” You tease him, “welcome to my life, be thankful LeeKnow!Reader couldn’t be here, I’m a fool for their baby boy!”

Chan giggles, giving your lips a soft peck.

“Don’t worry, you can be a fool for our baby too. Let’s work on that, yeah?” He proposes.

“Oh, you’re on a schedule now? Is it time for that?” You tease.

“Mmmhm,” He kisses you, smiling into the kiss. “It’s time.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and play with the hair on the back of his head, letting his tongue into your mouth once he licks your bottom lip. You bring your leg up to his hip and feel his hand pull it up against his side. Your hand goes to find his arm and you hold on to him, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. He kisses down your neck and bites every so often, making you gasp and let out little whispered sounds. He pulls your shirt and shorts off and has you laying on your back naked in a few minutes. His hands touch your legs from the ankle to the back of your knee, to your thighs and then his strong hands grip your hips. You reach up and touch his naked chest.

Chan grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand, before leaning down and kissing your stomach, right above your belly button. You whine under his kiss but let him kiss an agonisingly slow path down your belly and between your legs.

He really gives no warning before his face is buried into you, his hands holding your legs apart over his shoulders.

You gasp under his mouth and put a hand on his hair, fingers tangle with his dark locks while your other hand holds on to fistfulls of the bedsheets. You throw your head back as his tongue works on your most sensitive spot, making sure you are absolutely ready for him. You pant with a strong string tightening inside you, breathing seems so difficult as he laps at your folds, his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit. He hums into your sensitive knob and you gasp loudly, legs shaking in his grasp. He keeps going, eating you out like a starved man, only stopping after you cum on his mouth. You call out his name, your back arching off the bed as you do. He kisses your thighs and then your belly and up to your chest, his hands now eager to grope your breasts, he speaks against your chest, lips brushing your skin as he does so. “So pretty, babe… you’ll be even prettier with our baby…”

You nod, lazy hand landing on his shoulder. “Mmhm,” you kiss his lips, “I can’t wait…”

He leans into your kiss and struggles to kick off his boxers fast enough, you laugh as he has to step off the bed to get them off. Smiling, you sit up in the middle of the bed and wrap your arms around your weakened legs and stare. He looks back at you with a sheepish smile on his face as he stands fully naked before you.

“What are you laughing at?” He climbs onto the bed again, his hands land on your knees and he pulls them apart slowly, still face to face with you as you sit up.

“I’m thinking I love you,” you caress his cheek. “And that I am so eager to have your baby one day, hopefully soon…”

It is not spoken, but as the time has gone on and you’re still a couple months into trying for a baby, the two of you have relaxed a lot about the topic. Especially you, since the stress of it was not doing you any good. Chan feels his heart fill with hope when you say those words. He wants the same thing you want and he knows the uncertainty of the situation is hard to cope with, everytime you get a period it’s both of you who deal with the disappointment. Everytime you’re together like this, you remind each other that it’s not a “task”, that you’re doing it because you want to, because it means something.

He sighs and his shoulders relax, he laughs to himself and grabs your face. “I love you too, Y/N. And I can’t wait either…”

You cup his face and bring your lips to his, he leans the rest of the way and he pushes you down slowly, hovering over you as you wrap your legs around his waist. He slips his hand between your bodies and guides himself inside you. You grip his shoulders and moan into his ear as he starts kissing down your neck. You feel him sink in, all the way in until there is no more space between you. He whispers in your ear but at that moment he starts moving. His hips snap against yours and you plant your feet on the bed, head thrown back.

“Channie…”

He hums and groans into your skin. Picking up the pace, it becomes almost unbearable the way he reaches the most sensitive spot inside you, your legs shaking with the imminent release approaching. You dig your fingers into his back and meet his every move, hips meeting his.

“...so close, Chan… ‘m so close…” You let him know in a whine.

He pulls your legs up, his hands find the back of your knees and he pushes them against your chest as he keeps going.

“It’s okay, babe… I’ve got you,” he basically folds you in half as he continues with a fast pace.

You grab onto the bed sheets and soon find the drag of his cock inside you too much, a loud moan falling from your lips as you cum. He gasps and fucks you through it, his hips stuttering a couple of times before he suddenly lands a hand on the headboard behind your head.

“That’s it babe, I’m going to… gonna cum too.” He announces.

Only a couple thrusts later, his warm cum is spilling inside you. You reach up and pull his hand down kissing his bicep before he lets go of your other leg and you can fully wrap yourself around him.

You let Chan kiss your lips, your cheek and your neck before he pulls away and peppers your collarbone with kisses as well.

“You’re so extra…” you joke, he chuckles and asks why, “because you didn’t have to put me in a mating press!”

He breathes in, “oh, you love it…”

You put your hands on your face, unable to deny his statement. You hear him laughing and cannot help yourself but smile.

“See?” He kisses your hands still on your face. “Hey, I’ve got a good feeling about this…”

You let him take your hands away from your face and smile at one another, hopeful but unaware this would be the moment that would change your lives.

———

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

[vole-mon-amour]

2x07, part 1.

in a parallel universe Jinx and Ecco are TWINS??? Or was it just an expression? (Upd: probably just an expression, otherwise people would be screaming bloody murder about incest rn, lmao) Also, it's SO weird seeing this average Jinx and still hearing her cracked voice. Her mouth opens, but it doesn't match the tone of this Jinx.

And, damn, the spoilers were right. My girl deserves SO much better.

Hey, if all those people are alive, then Silco should be, too. WHERE IS MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER, SHOW HIM TO ME.

I think I'd love her in every universe.

Hey, does that mean Vi is either dead or insane? They can't be ALL 'normal' here?

???? If Silco isn't here, alive and well, I SWEAR TO THE FUCKING OUTSIDER.

??? Silco's place for her? Where. Is. Silco?

Ah huh! I was right. Love the "if Vi is alive, Powder turns to Jinx" allegory. And, basically, everything goes to shit. I'm afraid Silco might also be dead.

So Jayce needed to land there and Viktor wouldn't lost his humanity. Alas.

And if you love the journey More than the end, Go ahead <...> And where the chipps fall Is not your concern

I see you, Arcane. I see what you did there.

But of course, family is forever and all of that. Meh. At least in some universe she did die.

However, the idea that one of the sisters can't live in the world where another is alive/well/sane. The world is too small for the two of them at the same time.

Yeah, that's why Jayce's going to fuck it all up for everybody.

*looks in the camera like i'm in The Office* Jayce is straight, my ass.

He's kind of in Viktor's place rn. Viktor came out of slums and wanted to give it all to people. Jayce wants to destroy it all. The problem is, it is NOT real in his universe. Like, dude. Use your brain.

It's nice seeing the admission that Jinx is hella smart and does great things in 'our' universe. Terrible, but great.

The green in her blue eyes.

My question is, why are figures/what's left of people mechanical?After Hextech blew up in the universe that Jayce is in? Is it some sort of LoL lore? Therefore that's what Viktor becomes in the current universe after Jayce tried to kill him?

I love her.

Jayce and Viktor the first time they made the relic work... And it's the infinite sign. ;_;

There's something about Ekko, with professor and Jinx, inventing Hextech in this universe, while Jayce tries to destroy it. Honestly, dude would've been way happier if he landed where they are.

LOOK AT THIS PRECIOUS BABYGIRL. It's like when she was creating the thing for Silco with her braids in the air all around her.

The indicators were is that you died a horrible death.

If anything, I'm glad he got the chance to hug Benzo. I need this for SIlco and Jinx.

i was about to say that Silco wasn't mentioned even ONCE during this ep, but decided to wait until the end. the way i gasped. MY BELOVED!!

hey. hey, this isn't Silco (i know and love). the power of family is fucking bullshit, quit with this shit, s2.

when Jinx (well, Powder) and Ekko dance, that's where I roll my eyes and mentally gag. absolutely not. and if THIS is what prompts him to save Jinx in their timeline, then it's a big fat eugh for me.

pretty colours. it suits her.

i am SO imagining Jilco like this. my babies.

they.

Jayce, have you forgotten that you and your mom were dying in your universe?

Heimerdinger should've went back with Ekko.

[nisuna]

Hiii, Helloooo. I'm back :^)

I've made a separate post about how much this idea means to me, and I hope I did it justice. This is like my baby, one of the very first scenarios I've ever thought of. Something that motivated me to start writing in the first place and made me want to share my writing at all, so yeaaahh, please be gentle♡. I've made a detailed post about it, so feel free to check that one out here.

The gist of it is: It all happened one evening when your best friend came to pick you up from a party for the first time, being tipsy and sexually frustrated one thing led to another and you slept together and from then on it kind of became your guys' thing

You refuse to call him by his first name, but he'd really like you to. Even worse, you even add -san to his last name whenever you're tipsy

Oh, and no kissing, bcs that's too intimate am I right ha ha

What's the worst that could happen this time?

he miiiighhtt make you call him by his first name and maybe just maybe you do finally kiss???! who knows hahaaa

Without further ado Fwb!Suguru x f!reader, let's gooooo

<3masterlist<3

~2,4k words~ Strictly 18+ MDNI

TW: fwb!suguru x f!reader, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, marking, biting, hickeys, multiple positions, get fucked stupid, first times, teasing, dirty talk, tit sucking, nipple play, multiple rounds, leg humping, so much happening did I miss anything?? lmk xoxo

He never understood why you liked going out to the most shabby and stuffed clubs. It reeked of alcohol and smoke mixed with all kinds of bodily fluids. As he was making his way through the dancing crowd of sweaty people grinding against each other, he finally found you sitting at the bar while some guy was leaning in your direction way too close for comfort.

He had his usual fit, hair half up with a black over sized sweater and loose black joggers. Making him look so huge that if there were any guys bothering you, they would leave you alone as soon as they saw him.

"Yo~ y/n", he touched your exposed shoulder and gave you his signature eye smile, before staring down the guy next to you that was trying to get in your pants or in this context in ypur skimpy little dress. The guys' annoyed look turned into a worried one after seeing who he was up against.

"Aahhh Geto-saannn you're here early" you mused, leaning against his hard chest. That damn honorific, he cursed but still managed to squeeze out a smile.

"Haha "-san", so you aren't her boyfriend then." the stranger snarled but soon gave up as Suguru raised an eyebrow at him and snapped a "watch it". "Alright, alright, I give up", he put his hands up in defeat. "Maybe next time, sweetcheeks."

As soon as the guy left, Suguru took both of your hands in his and knelt down in front of you. "Y/n we've talked about this. If you don't want to call me Suguru, at least drop the honorific. We've known each other for years now, don't you think it's about time. Also, don't you think it's weird when you call the guy you fuck by his last name, hm?" He turned his head looking at you expectedly.

"But Geto-saaaan-"

"Ah ah, what did I just tell you"

"Okay, okay, Geto" you huffed, "You know I'm not comfortable with that", you whined, squeezing his hands.

"I just want to hear you say it at least once. Say it and I'll fuck you real good tonight.", he smirked.

You considered it, after a hard week you really needed a good fuck. "Sugu-", is all you could manage before snapping your head away, "Nope can't do it."

He let his head drop with a loud sigh. "It's alright, I was just pushing my luck. C'mon, let's get you out of here." And with that, he rose back to his full height, grabbed your hand, and pulled you from the bar stool. While making your way through the crowd and to his car, your thoughts kept wandering.

Suguru... that's such a pretty name.

The car ride was mostly quiet, but as soon as you stepped inside his apartment, you were shoved against the closest wall and found yourself underneath him soon after.

"What's up with you today? If you keep squeezing me that hard, you might actually snap my dick off.", he chuckled. He's way too cocky. You have to do something about that.

"Have I ever told you how annoying you can be. If you don't stop talking, I think I might have to shut that mouth of yours up myself.", you whispered, putting your hands on his cheeks and pulling his face close so that it was right in front of yours.

His usually narrow eyes were blown wide open, his hips stopped moving and you became uncomfortably aware how close you two were right now. So, instead of the kiss he was so desperately awaiting, you opted for blowing on his lips and hugging him close.

"Just kidding.", you hid yourself deeper in the crook of his neck. However, when there was no remark coming from him, you pulled away to look at his blank face.

"Sorry I didn't-"

"You're really cruel, you know that", you felt goosebumps rise as he whispered against your neck. "It's payback time."

Before you could react, he pulled out, latched his mouth onto your neck and began sucking.

"Wait, ah- you're gonna leave a mark.", in a futile attempt, you raised your hands to try and push him away, only to have your hands pinned next to your head.

"If I can't have your lips, I'll take everything else.", he pulled away to take a look at you. "Tell me if you're uncomfortable."

Nod.

In between licks from your neck down to your breasts, he encouraged you to touch yourself. "Want you to cum from me playing with your nipples.", he smiled, oh so sweetly, while rolling the hardened nubs between his fingers.

Cheeky bastard, but you would lie if you said that he wasn't pushing all the right buttons right now. So your hand made its way down between your legs while you rubbed yourself in sync with his twisting and sucking.

"What happened? You're awfully quiet? Cat got your tongue?" and before you could snap back at him, he dared to smirk and pulled on your nipples making you moan.

"Fuck, stop teasing.", you whined.

"Say my name and I'll make you cum myself" he whispered after pulling himself off of you with an obnoxious pop. "What do you say? Good deal right?", he mused while kissing the skin between your breasts up your neck and to your ear. His hot breath kept hitting you as you arched your back off the bed, but to no surprise you remained silent.

"So stubborn for no reason", he shook his head in disappointment. "Then you better work for it yourself."

He really made you work for it. You always came so quickly when it was his fingers rubbing your clit, when it was his long and thick finger dipping into your dripping heat from time to time. Once you go Geto you never go back huh. Your fingers just didn't cut it anymore, so it took a lot of sucking and encouragement from him for you to tip over the edge with a silent scream of his last name.

He kissed your sensitive skin through it as you desperately clung onto him.

"Good job.", he grinned with a kiss to your cheek.

"Shut up.."

"Aww, don't be like that, c'mere", he mused, pulling you onto his lap. You let yourself fall forward against his sweaty chest as you tried to catch your breath. In your delirious state, you kept nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a few cheeky bites, smoothing the area over with your tongue afterwards.

When you deemed him marked up enough, you pressed your forehead against his. As you were staring into each other, you mumbled, "Now we're matching."

"How cute. You're so kind, thanks."

You basked in eachothers warm embraces, breathing in each other until your hips grew impatient and started to grind against him.

'Someone's in a hurry, huh?", he quirked an eyebrow at you. You shrugged and whispered into his ear. "Gotta take care of you, too."

He expected you to go slow, but to his surprise you took a hold of his cock and slammed your hips way down meeting him in an instant.

"Whoa slow down you're gonna hurt yourself ah-" he looked at you in disbelief, "Is it okay? Does it hurt?"

You took a few deep breaths before continuing with overflowing confidence, "No, it feels really good. I can feel you all the way up here", you smiled, leaning back and tracing your fingers from your pubic bone to just over your belly button.

"Fuck, you can't just say those things out of the blue" he mumbled sitting up, finally starting to pound into you from below.

"That's what did it, huh?" you chuckled, arching your back and clawing at his shoulders. "How naïve, men are so simple." you kept that thought to yourself, tho.

As he kept bouncing you up and down you felt yourself go stupid on his cock. Each thrust was hitting your sweet spot just right and the stretch was to die for. You couldn't keep your voice down.

It didn't help in the slightest that he was playing with your breasts all throughout his mean thrusts. You went especially crazy when he fondled the fat of your ass and spanked the reddening flesh in between thrusts. As he felt himself get close he snuck a hand between your bodies to rub your throbbing clit. Your mewls and loud moans, slowly but surely pushed him over the edge.

He had to hold down your squirming hips as your breath hitched with the intensity of your orgasm and with how deep you were feeling him right now. He pulled you off of him and hugged you close, trying to calm you down.

"Shh, I got you, calm down you did so good", with a kiss to the top of your hair, you felt yourself relax. But that relaxation didn't last long, as you started to desperately grind against his leg. With your ass rubbing against his cock so perfectly he just couldn't help himself.

"Fuck, I'm hard again.", he admitted matter-of-factly.

"Then keep going. Give it to me until I pass out."

"Shit, you little minx." he cursed in his head but eventually gave in.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"Turn around for me."

You reluctantly got off his lap and got ready, face down ass up.

He really wanted to take you like this, but curiosity got the best of him.

"Fuck that" he thought as he flipped you and pulled your back flush against his chest, sitting down. After hooking his hands under your knees, he he picked up his pace as his hungry mouth ravaged your already sensitive neck.

"Feel good, yeah?", was the last thing you heard before he wrapped his huge hand around your neck.

Your mind went fuzzy as his hand was skillfully restricting your airflow from time to time. Which is exactly why you didn't register the next few words that tumbled from your mouth.

"Kiss me."

You made him stop dead in his tracks.

"What did you just say?", he had to make sure he heard you right.

Your hand was already at his nape, pulling him close.

"Kiss me..."

"Kiss me...", he gulped, "Who?", he was pushing his luck, and his heart rate picked up, afraid he might've pushed you too far. But the gamble paid off as he heard the words leave your mouth, that he had been waiting to hear from the moment he set his eyes on you.

"Kiss me, Suguru."

He wasted no time as he grabbed your jaw and smashed his lips against yours. It was so messy, so so nasty, teeth clashing against each other, but it was everything he could've ever wished for. He was on cloud nine. It was embarrassing how excited he got from just kissing you, but he couldn't care less at this moment. Your mouth fell open as you felt him spill inside of you. His tongue dipped into your awaiting mouth, while he fucked you through his second high.

He had to catch his breath while holding your limp form. He was sure you needed a break but when he tried to pull you off of his sensitive cock you stopped him. "Wait", you mumbled against his lips. "Don't pull out. Keep fucking me. Hurry up." How could he say no to you, even if he felt like he was about to die from overstimulation, he couldn't possibly deny you.

Which is how you ended up on your side, leg held up by his strong arm as he pounded into you from behind. Your sweet moans had him riled up impossibly more as his hips went to town on your pliable body. Even in this position, his eager mouth never left yours. The fat of your tummy and thighs kept jiggling so deliciously with each thrust that he just couldn't get enough of you. He soon felt you tighten around him and knew you were close, so he spurred you on.

"You feel so good like this, god you're so tight. Shit. About to cum?"

"Yeah, feels so good."

"Who makes you feel this good?"

"You do, Suguru. I love this so much. My god I'm gonna cum again."

"Yeah, yeah good, cum on my cock."

With a few delicate swipes of your fingers over your nub, your back arched as you came all over him. And he was there to swallow all of your moans with his greedy mouth.

When the heat of the moment subsided, you were a huffing and puffing mess. He held you close throughout and rubbed your lower back reassuringly.

After a while you were the first to break the silence.

"Holy shit, best sex we've had so far."

"Can't agree more.", he kissed your lips and continued. " Sooo, I assume you won't be calling me Geto anymore, right?"

You turned your head avoiding eye contact, but he stopped you, squishing your cheeks to look at him and raising an eyebrow. " Riiight, y/n? What's my name from now on? C'mon, don't break my heart."

"Suguruuuu....", you trailed off, but before he could celebrate, you quickly added, "-san.."

"Aah, so close", he chuckled, disappointment evident in his voice. "But it's a good start, so I'll take it.", he said truthfully, squeezing you tight. It was a huge step for your relationship. He was incredibly happy. He will make you drop the honorific no matter what. Now that he's got a taste, he will never let you go. Heck, he might even ask you out now that you're on a first name basis.

But he won't rush things. He's more than content with the current development of your relationship. You've come a long way, and only time will tell what it'll evolve into. The only thing he cares about right now is making you call his name over and over again, in one way or another. Life is good.

-----

I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this 🙆🏻‍♀️❤️ Please let me know your thoughts. See ya next time<3

[inkmemes]

never stop blowing up  (  2024-  )  e02 : and that's whirred up sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  dimension 20's 22nd season.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i'm just a lanky boy.”

“hello! nobody's home.”

“don't mess with brooklyn.”

“and what if i swallow it?”

“i wish you wouldn't.”

“i'm not hearing no!”

“it's beautiful.”

“you gettin' a little fucked up already?”

“i mean, i feel pretty fucked up.”

“that's for… that's for me? you want me to put that in my body?”

“okay, why don't you try some first?”

“you all right? you're looking a little green around the gills.”

“we can't afford this.”

“oh, um… i'm just being funny today.”

“i didn't get it. it didn't seem funny to me.”

“when you do drugs, sometimes you have ego death and it doesn't feel like you're you anymore.”

“this is paid for? this is, we got this? this is fine?”

“what are you asking?”

“i actually thought we were bonding.”

“wait, so you're not mad at me?”

“nothing you could do would ever make me mad.”

“i'd date him.”

“god, cutie alert.”

“this guy brought dogs to a nightclub!”

“he's really old. he has like, no teeth.”

“just taking notes on a fucking conspiracy.”

“see, when someone doesn't answer right away, you feel the need to keep going.”

“oh, okay, so you're making accusations.”

“i'm like, a little nervous that we left things in a weird place.”

“i don't even know this guy.”

“snort some and then sell the rest for money.”

“i don't want me to be happy!”

“i guess let's have some more of these drinks.”

“i didn't write down where i was supposed to go.”

“what's going on?”

“oh my god, he's dead.”

“you're on top of a building.”

“wait, a man just jumped off of a building?”

“i think [name] is attracted to this man.”

“is this a gun?”

“wait! come with me!”

“did i love him?”

“it was all a blur. i was getting thrown around like you can't believe.”

“yeah, he really gave it to, huh?”

“i wanna go out on the town.”

“we don't have the same room?”

“he left me up here on the street?”

“that was cool, man. i don't know what you want me to say.”

“i've been shot!”

“i've never been in a hotel this nice.”

“it's so hot. it's so hot.”

“there's dead guys all over the ground.”

“the floor is sleek with blood.”

“don't know how to spell that.”

“what the fuck?”

“sneak is like their primary fucking thing.”

“it's crazy that they just straight-up advertise that.”

“dude, this movie fucking rules!”

“i'm gonna need that from you.”

“tell me what i was supposed to do.”

“i think he's just starting to sweat.”

“you are wearing a tuxedo, baby.”

“just getting my sea legs, man.”

“could you send me a ping?”

“come on, man. we got bigger fish to fry. you gonna get hung up on this right now?”

“i've watched this.”

“i can't wait to see you.”

“i'm not the only one feeling pressure.”

“i'm probably not even gonna show up to work.”

“you told me what to do, i'm gonna do it, no argument.”

“i hate doing what people tell me to do.”

“he didn't think you were a shithead. there was trust there.”

“you were given an impossible thing to do.”

“i'm going so fast.”

“i'm still on my learner's permit!”

“i don't know who you're talking about!”

“does it look like the car is like, toast?”

“get outta there. those guys are some bad dudes.”

“i fucking love it.”

“i didn't know!”

“i fucking think it's a great fucking choice.”

“none of these are good enough.”

“[name], i thought you were dead.”

“that's why he hates me and that's why he stabbed me.”

“that's why he hates me and in turn why i hate him.”

“that was a weird interaction you just had.”

“oh, don't worry. i'm not gonna do anything with it. i'm just kinda holding it 'cause it feels necessary.”

“they can take care of themselves.”

“i'm getting it under control.”

“oh my god. this must be my fault. what did i do?”

“i hate new technology.”

“how the hell did you get that number? never call me on that line.”

“they're dancing together.”

“why the fuck are you calling me at the bureau?”

“can i get a second one?”

“oh fuck, they're all dead. they're all fucking dead.”

“goddamn it! [name], did you fuck us?”

“no, don't you fucking hang up on me!”

“we are gonna find a way to make this right.”

“did you get nabbed by the feds? what happened?”

“what do they want you to do?”

“but you know who you are.”

“it made so much sense in my brain.”

“what are you talking about?”

“yes! oh my god, fuck!”

“you had it in you all along, kid.”

“it's crazy. it was crazy down there.”

“can't say i'm surprised.”

“you must not have been invited.”

“that's a really interesting question i'm not willing to open up.”

“don't tell me what to do.”

“and it's weird 'cause it's not… it's like an emotional feeling. it's not a logical thing, right?”

“you're the guy from the movie!”

“i have a motorcycle.”

“we should go to a bar or something.”

“let's go get a drink. i wanna see the town!”

“i'm already deciding that i'm making that for you.”

“i mean, we're in a fucking movie together.”

“it's the '80s, baby.”

“i'm fucking pissed.”

“i wanna get out and i wanna solve this crime!”

“oh, are you looking for companionship?”

“oh, she sounds mean.”

“i think you're getting your groove back.”

“i want an appletini.”

“we're doing a drink crawl or something like that.”

“you look awful. you look bad. worst i've ever seen.”

“what, you want me to pretend i'm happy to see you, [name]?”

“watch where you're going!”

“i was just trying to like, prank.”

“someone wants to decapitate you.”

“you're probably the strongest dude i've seen.”

“just really good to be touched.”

“i think you need it.”

i'll go find parking, but i'll meet you at the hotel bar.”

“oh my god, [name], how are you doing? you look great.”

“oh, you've been waiting for that for so long.”

“wait, what?”

[pitufitaispunk]

Velvet Ring

Chapter Three: Maybe

Pairing: Riff x Latina!Reader (West Side Story 2021)

Velvet Ring Masterlist

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June 10, 1957

I wake up at 5:30am and pull myself out of bed, my head pounding. It had been a week since I'd allowed Nardo to tell Manuel that he could accompany me to the dance and now, Manuel follows me around everywhere. It was sweet at first, he reminded me a bit of a lost puppy. Manuel would only walk me to and from work, but now he reminds me more of a parasite. This clingy behavior has quickly become irritating. He's began to join me to go to the market, he hangs around the florería all day, and he's also started coming around the apartment a lot more. It feels suffocating. That little window of time I had after work that was just for me has become 'Manuel Time' and I barely ever get a minute alone anymore. However, it's also been a week since my encounter with the Jet. I don't know what happened with him, but I haven't seen him anywhere. Not that I would want to anyway, but it's still weird. Maybe the Jets were up to something, probably thinking of new ways to make my brother and his friends miserable. That thought makes me feel even more guilty for 'missing' the Jet.

I put on my slippers and shuffle across my room to grab my pink robe, wrapping it around myself before walking out into the kitchen. I glance over at Anita and Bernardo's bedroom, seeing Bernardo is still asleep in their bed, but I can hear Anita in the shower. I begin making some eggs for myself and for her, considering she almost always made breakfast for us. When she walks out of the bathroom, she's wrapped in a towel with a blue shower cap on her head. She smiles at me and sits down at the dining table, "¿Por qué estás despierta tan temprano?"

I shrug, placing a fork and a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her, "I like the quiet." I grab my own breakfast and sit down next to her. We eat in comfortable silence before I speak again, "Anita, ¿puedo preguntarte algo?"

"Claro," She nods, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "What do you want to ask me?"

I look down at my lap, fiddling with the hem of my robe, "I just wanted to ask about the Jets."

She quirks a brow at me, "The Jets? Why do you want to know about the Jets?"

I look up at her, stilling my hands, "I'm just curious. Nardo never tells me anything and I don't think it's safe to be so clueless about everything going on around me."

Anita sighs, "I know as much as you do, nena."

I know she's lying and give her a pleading look, "No me mientes, Anita, por favor. Just tell me anything!"

She puts her fork down again and points a finger at me warningly, "Fine. But you don't tell your brother I told you." I nod eagerly, making her purse her lips, "Well, you know they're the reason Bernardo is always stressed," She says softly, I nod. "And to put it simply, Y/N, they're destructive little gringos who think they own the streets. They terrorize Puerto Ricans day after day because they think we don't belong here. Or rather, they think we don't deserve to be here in their glorious country." I swallow hard, guilt weighing on my chest. Anita takes her shower cap off and begins touching up her hair, "Anything else you want to know?"

I nod, "Do you know any of their names?" I ask, trying to sound casual about it.

Anita huffs softly, "Why do you want to know their names? Do their names matter? They're all the same anyway." I purse my lips and Anita raises her hands in surrender, "Ok, ok, no te pongas de malas. Well, there's, eh... Riff, the leader. Obviamente." I pinch my brows at her words, clearly it wasn't that obvious to me. I've heard Bernardo say that name multiple times, but the leader of the Jets was still faceless to me. Anita continues, counting them off on her fingers, "The... ¿como se dice? Ah, the second in command is Ice. Hm... the youngest is Baby John, the buff one is Diesel... Ay, there's too many to count, but you get it." I wondered which of those names might have belonged to the Jet I've met or if she even mentioned him. Anita gives me a tight lipped smile, "Now are we done here?"

I laugh softly and nod, "Creo que eso es suficiente. Gracias, Anita." As I stand to clear our plates off the table, Anita grabs my wrist. "Don't go snooping around the Jets, ok? Now that you have all the information you need about them, you will stay away."

I laugh awkwardly, "I wasn't going to snoop, lo prometo." She gives me a look and I sigh, "I'm just tired of everyone treating me like a kid, I don't need to be protected from this stuff anymore. It's time for you, Bernardo, and everyone else to accept that... Well, I should go shower before work." I scurry into the bathroom, locking the door behind me before Anita can get in another word.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

At work, I seemed to keep getting distracted. I accidentally knocked over a potted plant, I tripped over a box of new gloves and ended up tearing my dress. I was a total mess and it was all because of that Jet. I've always been a fairly curious girl, but I'd never wanted to know about someone this much. It wasn't because I liked him or because he's good looking, it was because he confused me. Why would he flirt with me? He knows I'm Puerto Rican, so why would he flirt with me? A million questions begin to flood my mind. Was it all some cruel trick? Was he planning an attack on me to get back at Nardo? Does he even know I'm Bernardo's sister? I don't think I'm on his radar now, but I hope I see him again soon, just so I can give him a piece of my mind.

"Y/N, ¿estás bien?" I hear Lupita's voice call and I'm snapped out of my thoughts. I look up and see Marisol and Lupita giving me strange looks, then I realize I'd been watering the same plant for about 5 minutes now and the pot was overflowing with water. I hurry out to the alley to drain the water, cursing softly under my breath. I then hear footsteps shuffling towards me.

"Looks like someone had too much to drink."

I freeze. I know that voice well by now. It's him again. I quickly take off my name tag before he can see it. I look up and there he is, towering over me. The Jet. He was wearing a thin white tank top with dark blue jeans and scruffy black sneakers. I place the potted plant down on the cement ground, stand up straight and narrow my eyes at him, trying to look tough.

He just laughs and steps closer to me, "So, you work here?" He asks, pointing towards the florería.

I scoff softly and gesture to my uniform, "Do you think I just wear this apron for fun? Yes, I work here."

His eyes widen, surprised that I finally spoke back to him. The look of shock is quickly replaced by amusement as a smug grin grows on his face.

I turn to head back inside then I hear him step closer to me again. I look back at him, my brows pinched, "You can't come in."

He smirks, his hands in his pockets, "Wasn't going to. So... what's your name?"

I snort, "I'm not telling you that."

He tilts his head coquettishly, giving me a sly grin, "Aw, come on. What's the harm in just telling me your name? Promise I won't wear it out." He drawls.

I roll my eyes at his attempts to charm me, "There's a lot of harm in telling you my name. You could... I don't know, sic your boys on me."

This makes the Jet laugh heartily, "Sic my boys on you? That's a good one. Come on, sweetheart, I'll do you one in return if you just tell me. Besides, don't you wanna know my name?" His gaze has softened, but I'm still wary. It could all be some kind of trick.

I scoff, "No. You Jets are all the same anyway."But it was lie. Obviously, I've been dying to know his name, but if he knew that, he'd just think I liked him. Jets are very cocky that way.

He hums softly at my response, then looks up at the sign above the door, an white plank of wood with the words 'Empleados Solamente' in fuchsia colored cursive letters with flowers painted along the sides.

"What's that mean?" He asks, pointing up at the sign.

"Employees only." I say firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. I wasn't going to back down or give this Jet the satisfaction of knowing that he scares me just a little.

His gaze flits back down to me and he smiles, his hands raised in surrender, "Alright, doll. I get it, I get it. I'll get out of your hair... if that's what you really want." I purse my lips and he laughs, "I'll take that as a yes."

He begins to walk away before he stops himself and turns to look at me again, a smirk on his face, "So... will I be seeing you at the dance?"

I pinch my brows, "What?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, "Will I be seeing you at the dance?" He asks again, putting emphasis on each word.

I lean down to pick up the potted plant then look up at him again, "Maybe." I say softly before quickly hurrying inside, locking the door behind me.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

After work, I am accompanied by Manuel back to the apartment. He quickly explained to me that he got too busy to drop by today during my shift, but he didn't know I was secretly glad I finally got some time to myself for the first time in a week.

Manuel is a quiet boy, so the walk back home is always an awkwardly silent one.

I look up at him, my lips pursed, "So, Manuel, how was work today?" I ask, making an attempt at small talk. Manuel and all four of his siblings work at a panadería, La Noria, ran by his mother and father. Bernardo always sent me there on Fridays to pick up some mallorcas, so we could have something special for dessert.

Manuel beams at my question, "Estaba bien. It was a busy day, but you know I love it there more than anything. ¿Todavía vas a venir mañana a comprar tus tres mallorcas de siempre?"

I laugh softly, "Sí. You know how Nardo is, he loves mallorcas."

As we finally arrive to the apartment, I fish my keys out of my purse and unlock the door, letting Manuel and myself in. He makes his way over to the couch and plops down tiredly, letting out a long sigh.

I quirk a brow at him, "¿Estás cansado?"

He hums sleepily and nods, "Sí... y tengo muchísima hambre. Could you make me something? Unos huevos o algo."

"Por supuesto." I roll my eyes and grab a pan from the cabinet. I was tired too, but I would make him some eggs anyway. I walk over to the stove and place the pan down, slicking it with oil once it's heated up. I crack two eggs into the pan and sprinkle some salt on them.

Manuel sits up slightly and cranes his neck to look at me, "Gracias, Y/N. You'll make a great wife someday."

My eyes widen. Did he mean I would be a great wife to him? I suck in a deep breath and turn to look at him with a forced smile, "Thank you, Manuel. Because that's always been my dream. To be a great wife."

He smiles at my words, obviously he didn't pick up on my sarcasm. I know Manuel means well by saying that— as well as my brother and a few other men I know— but I hated that they always saw me as a future housewife, when that's not really what I want to do with my life. I admire the women who are devoted to their families in that way, but I would really love to run a flower shop of my own someday.

"Y/N, could I have a glass of water?" Manuel asks softly, his voice startling me a bit.

I plate his eggs quickly and nod, "I'll get it for you right now." I hand him his eggs then get him a glass of cool water.

He quickly eats his eggs and gulps down the water, then checks his watch, "Hm, I should get going now. My parents said I have to be back to the bakery by 5:00." He stands from the couch and hugs me, "Gracias por todo. You're amazing."

I smile sheepishly, "It's nothing." Manuel returns my smile before leaving the apartment. Once he's gone, I sit myself on the couch and kick off my flats, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Soon after Manuel leaves, Anita and Bernardo come back home from work. Anita groans softly as she peels her heels from her sore feet and places them neatly by the front door, Nardo rubs her back before making his way to the fridge to grab the carton of milk. Anita practically limps over to the living room and sits on the couch next to me, "How was your day, nena?" She asks, stroking my hair tenderly.

I smile softly, my eyelids drooping as her gentle touch soothes me, "Uneventful."

She stills her hand and gives me a smirk, "Uneventful, huh? Bernardo and I saw Manuel leave just now… what did you two talk about?” She waggles her brows at me suggestively, making me roll my eyes.

“Nothing. He sat on the couch, half asleep, while I made him some eggs. Manuel isn’t a very talkative person.” I shrug.

Anita sighs softly and sits upright, lowering her voice so Nardo wouldn’t hear, “Ay, nena, I told you that you don’t have to go out with him if you don’t want.”

I lean my head on her shoulder, “But you see how happy it’s made Nardo. I don’t mind it.”

Anita purses her lips, “I just don’t want you to feel obligated to date whoever your brother wants you to. There are plenty of nice boys in our neighborhood.”

Our neighborhood. I force a smile and nod, “Sí, lo sé. I’m content with Manuel for now. He’s a sweet boy. A little clingy, but sweet.”

Anita laughs and pulls me into a tight hug, “If you say so, Y/N.”

Bernardo walks into the living room, biting into a crisp red apple, “Vamos al mercado.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

[differenteagletragedy]

Our Life headcannons

-- Cove has at least one child who is autistic and nonverbal. He becomes a master at communicating with this baby, and whenever they are able to use their words he absolutely loses his mind. The first time he hears an "I love you"? Crying, screaming, flat on the ground, bawling his eyes out. Let someone in public try to make any kind of remark if the kid has a meltdown. They will not survive.

-- Derek asked you to prom "as friends." He asked you what you were wearing so his tux could match you, and he got you a corsage too, "as friends." Did it seem kind of like a date? Of course it did, he'd had a crush on you for years. But he was very insistent on the "as friends" part and even if you had a crush on him too, it kind of made you think he couldn't ever see you that way at all.

-- Going to watch a movie with Baxter? Lol, no you're not. Boy runs his mouth trying to be cute and you can never follow the plot because he's sitting beside you with that little smirk, trying to make you laugh and look all adorable. If you really want to see something, leave him home or at least learn how to tune him out -- even if you do he'll keep going.

-- Cove doesn't like to drink but when he does he will not. Shut. Up. He's not like Movie Baxter, he just keeps saying whatever comes to mind, no filter. No real memory on how to properly structure sentences either. He just really needs you to know literally every single thought that pops into his head so please just listen to him, hey, are you listening?

-- Do you want a dog? You better if you end up with Derek, because y'all are getting a dog. It doesn't matter what kind it is, he'll be taking that dog on runs with him, he'll be doing research to get it the best kind of food and to figure out what kind of environment it thrives in. Did he just get another subscription box for the dog even though he already gets one? Yup. That's his dog.

-- Do you like makeup? Cool, Baxter likes you to put makeup on him too, thanks. Not to go out, that's not really his thing, but it's a nice relaxing activity to do at home. He gets you all close to him (once you get back together he's not gonna let you go lol), and he gets to feel pretty. Don't skimp on the mascara, he likes his lashes, and be sure to play up his best features. Maybe try a dark lipstick this time, he'd like to see how that looks. And when you're done having fun, you better get to thoroughly removing everything and then following up with his skincare routine.

-- Sorry, let's double up on Baxter while we're here -- do you have a skin routine too? Because that's a shared interest and he's gonna want to talk about it. What's your favorite cleanser? Do you want to do face masks together? There's this new moisturizer he's interested in that's stupid expensive but he still wants to try it, want to split it? You share a Sephora rewards account so you can get more points. Oops, you accidentally put on too much of your lip mask and your lips are all goofy -- just give him a kiss, he hasn't put his on yet. It's weird how much I could go on about this.

-- You can also put makeup on Cove, but maybe stick to powders so he can rinse it all off easy after. And you can do whatever to Derek, he doesn't care, he's just happy to be there.

-- Everybody makes a big deal about Baxter's dancing, but this is actually another case of Derek Erasure, because he can do stuff too. His dad taught him and his brothers how to properly dance with a partner, and he was too shy to do it if you took him to the Summer Soiree, but if you end up with him? He can hold his own for sure.

-- If Cove doesn't end up with you, he ends up with Xavier. That's it. That's how it goes.

-- Not one of the main boys, but if you and Cove have babies then Cliff absolutely thrives on his GILF status. He tells everyone that he's a grandfather, literally every single person, and he's def proud of Cove and loves his grandbaby to bits, but also, like, look at him. Crazy hot grandpa, right?

[moonshynecybin]

Feels like I haven't sent you anything FCO related in a while and I don't have much to offer but I was thinking about those first days/weeks after the announcement when things are still very fraught between them and Valentino is on edge because he truly wants this to succeed and Marc is just being a terrible actor, even when he lets Valentino take the lead (which, 95% of their joint interviews, let's be real, but whenever Marc is asked something on his own? yeah, that baby knows how to lie now but back in early 2016? with his feelings written all over his face? yeah, no).

So. Cue to the two of them in one of their motorhomes, post whichever event where it was obvious Marc had issues pretending he wanted to be there (it gets better with time and with Valentino's support, etc etc, but, bad day) and as usual, just a vision, of Valentino looking at Marc and going "Fuck's sake Marc, you need to learn how to lie properly."

Because every now and then, it's my favorite thing in the world to picture Valentino saying the most insane shit. I'll let you pick Marc's reaction.

Although, I will say, in my mind there is one version where Valentino is really tired/annoyed (could be because of exterior circumstances that have nothing to do with Marc, bad night of sleep, bad race, whatever) and he goes "You know what? Maybe we should practice. Come on Marc. Look at me and lie to me. [pause] Do you need me to start with an example or do you need me to provide you with text?"

[It's not my forte or my favorite thing to do to think of mean™️ Vale, but, well, happens.]

valentino in fco au fully believing marc’s ability to lie at the beginning bc he’s crazy and then being forced to be close to marc who has recently been cracked open like a lil egg and realizing that his face looks different a lot of the time now. at times terribly young and terribly fraught and still reaching out for vale in awkward half aborted little touches that he jerkily pulls away from and vale is TRYINGGG to use his smoke and mirrors magician in the press abilities to keep the lie going but marc hasn’t quite learned how to do that yet. is sort of in the thick of the transition to the marc we know today. and after one weird day where they’re so awkward together that a journalist gives them a considering little look like he MIGHT know something, vale is like okay well. if this doesn’t come easy to you marc (marc fully SO mad that vale can read him here, plays it off with an awkward laugh of COURSE) how about we practice.

so it’s like. truly they’re already doing so many dates/PR blitz thingies but now vale is narrating them (he loves to teach……) with little ways they can help the performance. little ways to lie (imo they aren’t lying rlly they wanna fuck BAD. in some ways this is weird roleplay). so he’s whisking marc away to dance and placing one of marc’s hands on his back and murmuring in his ear to tell him to smile when the cameras flash. he’s chillin in marc’s hotel room with him going over tape of their presscon like u shouldn’t even be answering that question, you should be inventing your own question and answering that one. he putting a gentle hand on marc’s cheek and asking him to lean a little like he wants to hear what vale is saying. it’s all very much a crash course on how to be a charismatic little clown that can wiggle out of questions, and marc has most of it already bc hes a liar boy he’s just also very DIRECT and DICHOTOMOUS in how he sees the world (part of why fake dating hurts his ass bc he dosn’t quite know where they stand….) and he’s being somewhat tortured by being in love with this guy who hurt his feelings bad but is also doing rlly nice stuff for him all the time and is ALSOOOO acting like he wants to fuck him comma, meanly. stop teasing me when you know im still in love with you kinda beat. anyways. by the end unbeknownst to vale, marc is internally fully just like fine. i’ll be fully back with vale for this EVEN IF HE HATES ME, and when it backfires i’ll want to die but i’ll have it for the time being. and vale is spending all this awful time watching marc perfect the performance. close himself off in public. face smooth, eyes too-wide, big smile pasted on. but eventually he realizes that its directed at HIM, not at the press. and it occurs to vale that he might’ve just taught marc some skills that could be used against him

[redjockfrog]

initial thoughts for AVA 11 (spoilers)

in alanspc

WHO FUCKING CALLED IT? THE WHOLE NOOGAI REMAKING VICTIM A BUNCH OF TIME? SOMEONE FUCKING CALLED IT! (was it ink? i think it was but i don't remember)

wait so chosen wasn't born the same year as victim? or was he and noogai just went "yknow, after that i think i'll stick with victims"

so like, earlier this year, i had and idea about alan and second testing what would happen if they erased parts of sec's body. what the fuck Apollo.

THE ROCKET SHIP BEING HIS WAY TO FREEDOM IS AMAZINGAHSAKJDHLKAJHFKDJHFKSJDHF

also i love hope he just robbed noogai's interface (deserved)

his escape was so cool and so was the music- wait who did the music *instert agressive clicking* oh scott buckly and lildeucedeuce nice

bro noogai must've been flabbergasted after that

The Outernet

the girl!!!

okay that animation actually was really cute

"CORNDOG GUY WAS USER MADE" <-voice of a guy who has no idea what's coming

those glowy circle things are the same green as Second's.

fuck they even look the same

WAIT THAT'S WHY HE'S GREY!?!? because he didn't come to the outernet natrually? that so cool

also his entering into the outernet linked all the pc's to the outernet sky! that's so weird!

THE FUCKING WHISTLE WHEN HE'S YEETED OUT OF THE ROCKET IS CRAZY BRO IS A LOONEY TUNE LMAO-!

"oh bby girl you're so cute and sweet and kind i hope your death is tragic" <-voice of a guy who knows what's coming but is not ready

oh he's shaking, ooh baby nooo :,<

bro has so many issues

they were impressed by him drawing, so maybe creation is like a super special thing

omg she is his business partner

smith?!?!?!?

is Mitsi the first (and maybe even only) person he's told his trauma about, cause that is so sweet

POWER COUPLE! SO THEY ARE ROMANTIC PARTNERS

digital hallucination /ref

okay but the fact that he still sees the cursor but after so much time with Mitsi he pushes past it is so sweet

The Anniversary Party

watching Smith boogie down is so funny

victim canonically cannot boogie down lmao

"him and mitsi dancing is so cute maybe she will live" <-voice of a guy who let their guard down at the worst possible moment

i saw that fire- wait where she go

oh shit she got sent to newgrounds

protect yo boss Smith- oh shit there he goes to

wait are all sticks in the outernet from newgrounds?

WAIT PURPLE'S FAMILY-?!?!? AND PURPLE?!?!?!?!? HOLY SHIT?!!?

note: Navy gets out first, Purple reaches out for help, but Navy just goes "Come on! We gotta go!", and Orchid is the one to help Purple up.

MITSI NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

and smith had to watch his friend's lover die. that's fucked up

ooooohoohohooh Chosen looks so fucking ominous

you can almost hear the question "where's mitsi?" "..."

that breakdown from Smith. god damn. "i'm so sorry!"

2018

oof. /gen

CONTEXT IS KEY. CONTEXT IS KEY!!!

the angel of death drawing is fucking metal

there are so many details i can't do justice here

the connection has been drawn.

i.

i love this episode. thank you alan. thank you ava team.

[ms-scarletwings]

Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

[seasonalflowerr]

SLAMS DOOR OPEN

Can i get uhh....can I get a numberrr.... 29

29. Would That I by Hozier

“So in awe, there I stood as you licked off the grain. Though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame. Long as amber of ember glows, All the "would that I'd loved" is long ago.” hello. so. this is the song you got- i need you to know i LAUGHED when i realized. anyway. hi buddy!! i wrote!! rentho for you!! i don't know if i nailed the characterization but i still hope you like it <3 two special guys i know we haven't talked about in a bit. it's very plot-less and fluffy and like- idk when i hear this song i just think about two people goofing off and dancing in a forest. :) enjoy my beloved friend<33

“Etho, my man, you really don’t know how to dance, do you?”

“I can! It’s just been- been a while, y’know?” 

Right in his field of vision, eyes cast down, he can see Ren’s shoulders shake with a hefty laugh. He gives Etho’s hand a light squeeze, leaning down to try and meet his gaze. 

“Right, of course,” Ren says, “And you being stiff as a board wouldn’t mean that you’re nervous, would it?”

“Nope.”

Etho’s shoulders slump down. He tries to relax, but it’s futile, so he just makes it look like he relaxed his frame instead. Maybe he was nervous. But Ren didn’t need to know that. 

Ren chuckles again. “You’re a terrible liar and a terrible dancer,” he teases. 

Etho can’t help it. He smirks, sure that Ren can see how his flushed cheeks peek over his mask. 

“Uh, so are you. You keep stepping on my feet.”

“Because you aren’t moving.”

“If you say soooo…” 

“Well, we’ll just have to learn together then,” Ren coos, voice dropping lower, “Won’t we?”

His free hand scoops Etho’s waist and pulls him further in. Etho feels his heart trot off, wide eyes now locking with Ren’s. Taking a breath to regain his almost cracked composure, Etho sighs dramatically. 

“I guess you’d be the best one to show me how.”

“Aye.”

There is little resistance when Ren tries to move them this time. He keeps Etho close, warm breath ghosting across his face and toothy grin just inches from his own mouth. Most times, it is good that Etho has his mask. Keeps him from making impulsive decisions while the two of them are trying to focus.

A soft, late afternoon sun peeks through the trees above them. The ground crunches lightly as the two step—Etho falling behind at first, but soon, the two falling into a sort of clumsy sync. It’s a weird mix between a two-step and a waltz, indistinguishable if not for how Ren occasionally steps backwards and Etho has to follow. 

Frankly, he is useless in this dance. He is helpless and close to the man that he loves and that makes it hard to keep his brain from puddling. Ren is a strong tether, guiding him around and around in a patch of bright green grass. The light is dappling on his skin, in his hair. Stunning, as usual.

“See, I knew you could do it,” Ren says, “And I’m not stepping on your feet anymore.”

“Mm, maybe. It could still happen.” 

“I could do it on purpose if you really want me to-”

“Noo!” Etho cries, pulling back slightly. 

He only manages to get about an inch away before Ren pulls him back in, laughing and whirling them around again.

“You’re so easy, baby.” 

He scrunches his nose, using one of the hands on Ren’s shoulder to pinch the side of his neck. “You’re on thin ice, ya know.” 

“Am I really?” 

“Yeah,” Etho says, trying to be serious.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Ren teases further, “I don’t think you can go anywhere.” 

Etho rolls his eyes and yanks his mask down. He pulls Ren in, pressing his lips to his rather hard for what was supposed to be a sweet kiss—but there’s little hesitance from Ren, seemingly unsurprised by this response. Ren grins, all teeth and giggles, into the kiss for a moment before squeezing at his waist. 

When Etho pulls away, he immediately puts his mask back on. Ren whines, eyes still closed. 

“That’s all?” Ren mutters. 

“It’s what you get.”

When Ren goes in to kiss him again, Etho pulls back, whirling them into a clumsy spin. 

“Whoops,” he says once they re-establish, “I thought we were dancing.” 

A mischievous tone makes itself known in Ren’s voice, lilting with joy. “Oh, you-”

Etho steps back, suddenly taking the lead and dragging Ren with him. Their proximity doesn’t make it too difficult, not when he already had him a little distracted. Ren stumbles a bit, glancing down at his feet as if they were not going to catch up. Etho takes them into a gentle sway back and forth, eyebrows wiggling a little. 

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence. 

“You’re a cheeky little thing.”

“Who, me?”

With a little chuckle, Etho finds himself hauled to the side, the lead stolen once more and tossed into a clumsy duet. He can barely think for more than a few seconds before he feels Ren close in, backing him into a tree that he hadn’t seen. It doesn’t hurt—instead, he gasps almost tenderly as Ren’s body presses into him. His hands grip his jacket, one foot tucked between Etho’s feet as a final measure to leave him right where he wants him. Ren’s canines peek out as he half-grins, victorious in their silly little game. 

“Yes, you,” he says. 

He can feel how warm his face gets under his mask, hot breath blowing back against him as he laughs a little nervously. He can’t help it when he tugs his mask down, letting the heat escape as his cheeks barely cool. 

What he notices, then, is how Ren breaks into an indulgent stare. Big blue eyes cast over his features and drink him in slowly, so full of feeling that Etho can tell it is not only tasting but savoring. 

“What’re you doin’ there, Ren?”

“Enjoying the view.”

With a snort, Etho grabs the back of Ren’s neck and pulls him in, bonking their foreheads together lightly. 

“Sap."

“Geez, you’re too good to me, baby,” Ren fires back, sarcasm lacing his tone. 

So, Etho kisses the attitude right out of him. Again, and again.