#i just need a fic of clara telling him to shut the fuck up… just one fic 🥺

[impossibledial]

can someone write a clara x house fic… it’s very important to me that someone writes a clara x house fic.

[f0point5]

The new fic was wonderful, I cant get enough of Em and Max I hope you never stop writing about them! That being said, I'm curious, would you write about one (or all four!) Times Max had to run around a city looking for Emelia?

Okay I’m sorry about how this turned out 🫣 I know in the fic it referenced that Max didn’t know there was a problem and only found out once she left but I am taking some artistic license with this being one of the four times! Don’t hate me 🫠

I did actually start a different one featuring Emilia’s dad so I may finish that one and we will get a funnier/more on brand instance of Emilia running away but…I hope you enjoy this one in the meantime!

✨Set in September 2021✨

They nicknamed her “The Bolter”

Max watches the sunrise in total, deafening silence. He thinks at some point he gets up to feed the cats. He thinks, but he isn’t sure. He’s so tired. His eyes are watering. It’s not tears. He can’t sleep. He wants to. He doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter if he wants to, he can’t. He can’t sleep knowing you’re not home. He can’t sleep not knowing you’re safe.

He looks at his phone again. He has it on loud and on vibrate but he still checks. Still hopes.

Daniel: Did you hear from her?

Lando: She’s not answering me sorry

Clara Albizzi: You fucked up

That last one makes me feel sick. He did fuck up. He knew the second he’d said it. The way your face just fell and you couldn’t look at him. The way your shoulders hunched over.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

You hadn’t even packed a bag. Hadn’t even taken keys for a car. You’d just picked up the shoes that were lying in the hallway and left.

And he’d let you.

It had taken everything in him to stand still and let you leave, even as the fear set in. Fear that smelled like freshly cut grass and petrol. Fear that felt like crisp night air. Fear that looked like headlights in the dark.

The restraint had only last a few minutes.

You had blocked him, of course. So he’d called your friends. He’d ended up calling half of Monaco including more drivers than he ever spoke to regularly. Everyone denied hearing from you. He’d actually driven to Daniel’s to confirm his story that he wasn’t home. Max wondered more than once if you’d earned more loyalty from his colleagues than he had. Even if one of them was lying to him, at least you were safe.

But he couldn’t take the chance that you really hadn’t ended up at someone’s place. You didn’t have you bag with you, or even comfortable shoes. You couldn’t pay for a cab. It was that thought that had sent him to the Hotel de Paris. It was your favourite hotel in town, you even checked in for staycations sometimes. They would have your information, so you wouldn’t even need a credit card. The receptionist had refused to tell him if you were staying there - illegal, apparently - but something about his appearance must have incurred her sympathy, because she’d said that they hadn’t had any unexpected guests.

That had sent him to Sass Café. A long shot, because you didn’t usually self medicate alone, but he’d tried anyway. Fifty times he thought he’d seen you across the room as he’d weaved his way through the hoards of people. Normally he could spot you anywhere but when all he wanted was to see you he’d seen you everywhere.

By the time he’d got home, some time in the wee hours, Max could feel himself starting to shut down. As he’d called your name to no response and checked your room to find it empty, he could feel himself starting to get cold. He’d sat down on the couch, intending to think about what he was going to do next, but the thoughts had started to get away from him. The memories of the last twelve hours began to fold in on themselves, becoming smaller and squarer and so too did the feelings. The anger, the frustration, the panic, the disappointment, it all got more manageable, packing itself away in the corner in his mind that Max had so often found himself hiding in.

Even the fear had gone. The fear had gone somewhere around 5.30 am, when the darkness started to wane. As he sat on the couch and watched the sky go from black to blue to the colour of the dress you wore to Luka’s christening, his leg stopped shaking, his fists unclenched, and the tightness in his chest disappeared.

Finally, emotions had given way to a familiar and encompassing emptiness. Max just felt numb.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

What had he even been so angry about? He could almost laugh at himself. He hadn’t been angry. He’d been embarrassed. You’d told him you’d found underwear that wasn’t yours in the washing machine and he’d been so fucking embarrassed. And then he’d thought, what did he have to embarrassed about, and he decided in a split second it must be because you were judging him, and who were you to judge him when you were the reason he was fucking random girls in the first place. His relationship had ended because of you.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

Except you weren’t the reason. Not really. It had been Max’s choice and he knew that. Max needed you more than he’d wanted her and he had never once regretted that choice, although wherever you were, you probably thought he did.

He almost wishes he could feel all of it. Whatever it is that’s been forced under the surface because he can’t deal with it. He can’t feel anything. His eyes are sore and unfocused and they sting.

He drags a hand over his face. He should do something. Get flowers, or call the police, or…anything. But he doesn’t. His limbs don’t move. He just sits there…like he’s waiting for someone to pick him up.

You’ve got to come back.

Don’t worry, Max. They always come back. You’ll apologise. You’ll do better next time.

His eyes water again. This time it might be tears.

Somewhere behind him, one of the cats meows. Maybe he didn’t feed them after all.

“Max?”

At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turns so fast his neck hurts. He blinks furiously at the sight of you. For a second he thinks he’s imagining you.

“I brought strudel,” you say, holding up a small folded pastry box.

Max gets up before his he tells himself to. He wants to pull you into his arms, the urge to do it is the only thing he’s felt in hours, but stays still. You’re back, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse.

“Not everywhere, clearly,” you say with a shrug.

“I went to Sass, Daniel’s, I called Lando, Alex, Clara, Zita,” he says, as if trying to prove that he’d tried. “I went to the hotel to see if you were there. I’ve been around the whole city all night, I didn’t sleep,”

“Oh.”

You look a little sheepish, almost guilty, as you make your way to the kitchen. Max follows, too far behind for his liking but he’s still too scared to get closer.

He sits on one side of the island and you stand on the other. He really takes in your appearance now. Hair up, no make up. Wearing a pyjama shirt. Where the fuck did you get pyjamas? He doesn’t care. His eyes run over you one more time. He might never let you out of his sight again.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Max admonishes, though there is no strength behind his words.

“Don’t piss me off like that,” you retort, and there’s strength behind yours.

The look you give him cuts like second place, and he looks away. He looks out to the balcony. The sky is cobalt now. What time is it?

“Did you mean it?” You whisper into the silence.

Max looks at you now. “No.”

“But-“

“No.” This time it���s an oath.

You shake your head as you open the pastry box. “Max, you obviously kind of meant it,” you say, turning to pick up two plates from the counter. “And I don’t blame you. I know I’m the reason you and-“

“You’re not the reason,” Max insists. “She’s the reason. She thought…she made that choice. And yeah, a part of me is still angry about it, and I cannot talk to her so I took it out on you. That wasn’t right and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I even- I’m sorry. It was my fault,”

Take responsibility. It’s your fault. You caused this to happen. If you don’t like the outcome then stop making people angry.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time. Even to his own ear it sounds a little more desperate.

You stare at him, eyes narrow, like you’re trying to read him, and Max almost flinches under the scrutiny. Finally, your face softens, and you sigh. Something in your posture eases.

“Max, it’s okay,” you say gently. “People fight. I just felt like shit and you know how I get. You’re fight, I’m flight, remember? I was…anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Max says. “Of course.”

You don’t look like you believe him, but he’s telling the truth. If you’re okay, then he’s okay. If you’re there, then he’s okay. If you’re home then that’s where he wants to be.

You shuffle around the island with two plates of strudel, padding on bare feet towards the living room with Max in hot pursuit.

“Where did you go?” He asks, now noticing that not even your shorts are the ones you left in last night.

“The Maybourne,” you explain, settling on the corner of the couch, legs outstretched. “The concierge gave me some spa pjs,”

Max takes a seat next to you, further than normal but closer than he’s been to you in what feels like forever.

“I’ll pay you back for the room,” he says with a rueful smile.

“Yeah, I think you will,” you say haughtily, and Max forced himself to laugh. There must be something in his expression that tips you off, though, because your face falls. “I’m sorry I left,”

Please don’t ever do that again.

The words are on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them. He doesn’t ask. He can’t. He has no right to ask you that, because no one can ever promise not to leave and he can’t promise to be worth staying for.

“It’s not the first time,” Max says with a chuckle, nudging you with his elbow. “I’m used to it by now,”

You roll your eyes and turn on the tv, flipping through to find the Moto GP race as Max yawns. The buzz he felt at your return is wearing off and the exhaustion is creeping up on him. He doesn’t want to sleep yet, though. Not when you’re still in his periphery. It’s stupid, but some part of him needs to be consciously in your presence for a while.

“Max, you can go to bed, if you want. I know you didn’t sleep,”

“No,” he says, a bit too quickly. He imagines that he blushes when you notice. His cheeks certainly burn. “I’m just….I’m fine here.”

You reach over to pick up a pillow and lay it on your lap. “At least lie down,” you say, patting the pillow like you do to get one of the cats to sit on you. Max hesitates, but only for a moment, because he’d do just about anything you told him right now.

He settles his head on the pillow, eyes fixed on the tv. He used to do this with his mum, he remembers. The first night joke after being with his dad for months, she’d put on a movie and Max would lay his head in her lap while they watched. He doesn’t think he’s ever told you that.

Your hand running through his hair is like a little jolt of energy, somewhere above him he hears you giggle at the shiver that goes through him. You don’t stop, though, finger massaging his scalp. It quiets all of his nerve endings.

“You need a haircut,” you tell him. He knows what you’re doing, but he can’t bring himself to care. As long as it’s you doing it.

“Yeah,” Max agrees. It’s the last thing he says before he finally falls asleep.

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.6

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which a few calls get missed as the days go on and anakin gets a taste of what the rockstar lifestyle is truly like while you become closer to your classmate.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Fuck, they were loud tonight,” Vinny muttered as he fell onto the couch in the tour bus. Clara was next to him, congratulating him on another great show as she pressed multiple kisses to his cheek.

The sight was a bit too much and Anakin had to look away as he was reminded of the way you were always all over him after a show. He pulled out his phone, glancing over at the couple. “They were amazing,” he corrected Vinny as he clicked on your contact. It was nearing one AM in Sweden, so it should be around twelve AM for you, and he hoped that you were still awake. 

The show went on a bit longer tonight, and his plans of calling you after had been greatly affected by it. He went to click the call button when he saw the few texts you had left him.

8:23 PM

Princess: Good luck, baby! You’ll do amazing, like always. Wish I was there!

11:07 PM

Princess: Call me when it’s over? I miss you

12:47 AM

Princess: I tried staying up, but I start class in less than seven hours, so we’ll just talk tomorrow. I love you, Ani. I hope you had a great show! Goodnight.

He cursed under his breath as he made his way to his bunk. You had sent that last text not too long ago, but you were probably just falling asleep and he didn’t want to disturb you. You needed to get as much rest as possible before you began the program, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that.

Guilt filled his body as he typed out a quick text, knowing it wouldn’t wake you up since you never slept with your ringer on. 

Goodnight, princess. I love you.

He plugged his phone in after that as Vinny and Clara passed him on their way to the back of the bus. Anakin groaned quietly and had to race Theo to the bathroom so he wouldn’t be stuck hearing them go at it. 

Theo flipped him off as he grabbed his headphones from off his bunk and moved to lay on the couch. Anakin laughed as he shut the door and then looked at himself in the mirror. His skin was a bit sweaty and his eyes held dark patches under them. 

He wasn’t kidding when he told you he had no idea how he was going to be able to sleep without you. After doing it for close to five years he had grown so used to having you next to him, he physically wasn’t able to sleep without you for too long. He had gotten maybe seventeen full hours of sleep in total since he left you behind in London, and it was beginning to show in his physical appearance. 

Anakin really wanted to talk to you before he went to bed and he wanted to wish you luck on your first day of class. He had this whole hype speech somewhat planned out in his head, but he didn’t get the chance to say it to you. 

He really hoped he could call you before you head off to school tomorrow as he felt like a bit of a bad boyfriend at the moment. You always supported him, always answered him and never missed a text. It really fucking sucked that he couldn’t do the same for you. 

Luckily, Anakin wasn’t left feeling like a total asshole the next morning when he woke up from his three hour sleep and called you at around six. “Hi, Ani,” your sweet voice greeted him and he could tell you didn’t get too much sleep either. He knew you were nervous for this program, and he would do anything to be with you right now so he could wish you good luck in person.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he murmured, getting up from his bunk and quickly making his way to the door. He unlocks it and quietly steps off the bus that was parked next to a rest stop. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call you last night. I wanted to, but the show went late and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“That’s alright,” you say and he could hear you fumbling around with something in the background. “I figured you and the guys got caught up with something. It was a good show?”

Anakin leaned against the side of the bus, his eyes scanning the still dark surroundings. He would be two hours ahead of you soon, when he reached Finland, and he knew it would become harder to call you because of your chaotic schedules. “It was amazing,” he repeated his words from the prior night as he crossed his arm, gripping his bicep of the opposite one. 

“I’m not surprised,” you teased. “You’re up early. I thought I’d get a call from you after my class is over later.”

“I wanted to be the first to wish you luck,” he said, hoping you wouldn’t bring up the topic of his awful sleep schedule. 

You hummed. “Your effort was in vain, I’m afraid,” you laughed and the sound had him smiling. “Evan texted me a few seconds ago wishing the same thing.”

That had his smiling fading a bit. “Oh,”

You laughed again, a silence falling over the two of you afterwards. 

Fuck, why did this suddenly feel awkward now? Why did he suddenly feel annoyed that he wasn’t the first person to wish you luck today? Why did he already dislike your new friend without even meeting the guy?

The silence didn’t last long, thankfully, but you did the exact thing he didn’t want you to do. “You sound tired, Ani,” your voice was soft, laced with worry and now he felt worse. 

He didn’t want you worrying about him when you should be focused on your class that was scheduled in thirty minutes from now. “I’m fine, princess,” he brushed off your words, trying to hide how tired he sounded by clearing his throat afterwards. 

Of course you didn’t let him off easy. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Yes, mom,” he laughed. “It’s just hard to sleep without you, but I already knew that it would be. I’ll get more sleep later today. We still have a fifteen hour drive ahead of us and then another ten after that until we need to start soundcheck.”

You were quiet for a few seconds before you mumbled, “I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard, Ani. You need to sleep more, you’re on stage almost every night, baby,”

Anakin sighed as he leaned his head back against the bus. “Don’t worry about me, alright? I’m fine, okay? I promise,” he tried to reassure you, but it was hard to do that when he was miles and miles away from you. He needed to change the subject, quickly. “I miss you.” 

That seemed to do the trick. “I miss you, too,” you say back, your tone much happier now. “I gotta go soon, but we’ll talk later?”

“Of course,” was that even a question?

“Okay. Thank you for calling me, and for the luck,” you mumble. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he said and waited for you to hang up before he dropped his hand back down to his side.

He stayed outside until the sun came up and he was fully awake with no chance of him going back to sleep for at least a few hours, knowing his sleep schedule was a lost cause without you here.

-

“Think of something or someone that makes you happy. It could be anything or anyone, but whatever or whoever it is has to have made some sort of impact on your life,” Kenneth Madsen, your instructor, ordered as he paced around the front of the room. “Could be a lover, a friend, a stranger, it could be your own bed. Whatever you choose, make sure it has a story behind it. Thank you all for a great first day, and I look forward to reading your pieces during tomorrow’s class. Remember to get a start on your short stories so they’re ready by the end of the program.”

That wasn’t so bad. The assignment is easy, too.

You close your books, making a mental note to refine your rushed scribbles later when you begin writing the assignment. As you stand up, you check your phone and see that it was nearing two PM. You could call Anakin as soon as you got back to your dorm and possibly talk to him for a lot longer than before, and the thought had you standing up quickly. 

“Hey,” a somewhat familiar voice says, making you look up as you grab your book. Evan stood next to your chair, his dark brown hair covering his forehead and making his green eyes stand out a bit. A smile danced on his lips as he watched you shove your things into your bag.

“Hi,” you say, smiling back at him.

He moved out of the way, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him as he asked, “Did you have a good first day?” 

“I did,” you answer as you and he walk side by side towards the doors. “I’m happy the instructor isn’t a total ass since he missed orientation day. He seems cool,”

“He is pretty cool. The assignment isn’t too bad, either,” Evan agreed, his accent slurring a few of the words, but you still understood him. 

You nod, smiling at him again when he opens the door for you. “I thought the same thing,” you say as you and he step out onto the campus grounds. “When are you planning on working on it?”

“I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to work on ours together,” he offered, adjusting the strap of his bag as he looked down at you. “And after you can read mine and I can read yours.”

You pause. “Right now?”

He stopped walking as well. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Why? Are you busy?”

You chew on your lip as you look down at your phone, and at your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Anakin that was taken back during the first tour, and the sight of it had your heart aching a bit. “I was going to call Anakin once I got home,” you trail off, looking back up at Evan.

He nodded again. “Right, your boyfriend. Yeah, this distance thing must be pretty hard for both of you, huh? I can’t even imagine how tough it’d be to date someone who is literally on tour right now,” he grinned and started to walk away. “No worries, we’ll catch up later.” 

Evan was so nice and now you’re starting to feel guilty for essentially blowing him off. “Wait, Evan,” you call after him, watching as he turns back around. “I can call him later, if your offer still stands.”

He laughed as he walked back over to you. “You mean the offer I gave you three seconds ago? Yes, it still stands,” he jokes and you laugh, too. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home and call him now?”

You pocket your phone as you shake your head. “He’s probably busy, or sleeping. He told me he was going to try to catch up on his sleep, so if that’s the case I don’t want to wake him,” you say as you walk next to him. “And I want to hang out with you.”

Evan looked away with a smile, bumping your arm gently with his elbow. “Well, in that case,” he glanced down at you as you neared the coffee shop you visited with him not too long ago. “Coffee?”

You find yourself agreeing and an hour later you are sitting at a bench on campus as you and Evan go over possible topics for the assignment. “What are you going to write about?” He asked as he wrote down another option for himself. “Or who?”

Lifting a brow, you give him a teasing smile as you answer. “Anakin, of course,”

Evan shakes his head, a smile dancing on his own lips as he looks up at you. “Of course,” he repeats your words. “Why did I even bother asking?” 

“Beats me,” you shrug as you sip on your drink, nearly dropping it as you feel your phone begin to vibrate in your bag. You pull it out as Evan mumbles something under his breath, your smile widening as you hold up your phone. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Evan squints at the screen, shaking his head again with a grin. “You gonna answer that?”

You look at it, too, before clicking the power button and setting it aside. “No, I’ll call him later,” you say, glancing up at Evan when he remains silent. “What?”

“You can call him back now, if you want,” he said in a soft voice. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

Shaking your head, you flip open your book. “It’s fine. He’ll understand that I can’t talk right now because of a school thing,”

Evan nods and goes back to writing down random topics, but you were quickly beginning to regret not picking up Anakin’s call, but you also didn’t want to go back on your own words. 

He’d understand, anyway. He had no reason not to.

Ani: Sorry, thought your class would be over by now. Call me when you can. Miss you.

You smile and turn your phone around so the screen is facing the surface of the table, knowing he wouldn’t be upset with you.

-

Anakin let out a groan of frustration as he tore out another page in his notebook. Helena had just finished her weekly lecture about needing to get more music out for the fans, and he was slowly starting to lose his mind. 

He discovered that trying to write a song without you around was about as easy as it was to sleep without having you next to him. It was about fucking impossible.

He leaned back in the chair at the table of the tour bus, his hands reaching up to pull at his messy hair. Vinny was across from him and Theo was on the couch, both guys wearing weary looks at the state of their lead songwriter. 

“You alright, man?” Vinny asked, crossing out his own stupid lyrics that he knew Anakin would never sing. 

“Yeah,” he huffed, looking over at Vinny with a blank expression. “I’m great.”

Theo shook his head as he went back to writing down notes of the beat he was working on, tuning the two out as he got back into his own head. 

“Maybe you should call Y/n,” Vinny suggested, flipping the page and starting over. “Might help inspire you.”

Anakin knew that just hearing your voice wouldn’t be enough for him to think of new lyrics, but he pulled out his phone anyway. He also just wanted to talk to you again. The brief call he shared with you this morning was just that, brief, and he missed you like crazy. 

He may or may not also want to be the first person to ask you about how your first day went, since he wasn’t the first to wish you luck. Evan was. 

He clicked on your contact and brought his phone up to his ear, looking over the weak attempts he had written in his book. He read over each one until he heard the sound of the call disconnecting and he felt immediately on alert. 

Pulling his phone away, he looked at the screen and saw that you hadn’t missed his call, but ignored it. You actually clicked ignore call. What the fuck. 

“Huh,” he said aloud as he stared at the screen until it turned black. He looked up at Vinny, who was already staring at him. “She ignored me.”

Vinny furrowed his brows. “Huh,” he echoed, giving him a reassuring wave of his hand afterwards. “She’s probably busy or still in school or something.”

Anakin wanted to say that your class should’ve ended an hour ago, but didn’t want to come off as pathetic for knowing your schedule. “Probably,” he agreed, setting his phone aside after sending you a quick text. 

After Anakin finishes writing down a few dumb lines, Clara enters the bus with shopping bags that she promptly throws onto the couch next to Theo before she wraps her arms around Vinny. “Happy six months!” She says excitedly, looking at Anakin across the table. “I know it’s not five years like a certain someone over there will be celebrating soon, but fuck it, we’re celebrating.” 

Vinny grins up at her and kisses her quickly. “Six months, huh? What’d you have in mind for us to do to celebrate?” 

She hugged him a bit tighter from behind, kissing his cheek multiple times before saying, “Since we’ll be in Finland for a few days, maybe we can find a cute hotel? Nothing too fancy, just something we can have a little more privacy in,” she whispered the last part but Anakin still heard her and he was instantly reminded of the time last tour when he and you stayed in a hotel for one night and he ravished you as soon as you stepped through the door. 

Clara added something about a nice restaurant she had heard of as Anakin grabbed his phone again and opened the Instagram app, his brows furrowing at the icon that showed you posted something to your story. Without thinking much, he clicked on it and felt his face heat up at the smiling face of, who is this, Evan? You had tagged him and set your location to the University of Dun-Walsh, and he saw that you had posted it ten minutes ago. 

So you weren’t in class, and you had your phone with you, and you still hadn’t answered his text. 

Anakin was not one of those obsessed and crazy boyfriends…well, maybe he was a bit obsessed with you, but he’s always been that way - still, he felt a bit annoyed at the fact that you had ignored both his call and his text because you are busy with Evan, but clearly not busy enough to not be able to post him on your story. 

He was not one of those crazy boyfriends who gets mad when his girlfriend is hanging out with another guy, but he was a bit frustrated. 

Scoffing, he scrolls through the app for a bit before getting a notification that Liz had messaged him through DM. 

elizaphotography: hey :) i would’ve texted you but i don’t have your number. hint hint. anyway, we’ll be here for a few days so i was wondering if you were wanting to get out of that bus and have a night on the town with me. i need a night away from screaming fans and taking pictures and i heard about this club that is supposedly great. the guys are invited, too.

After reading that, his mood had lifted a bit and he glanced up at the guys. “Hey, Liz is asking if we want to go to a club tonight,” he said, getting the interest of Vinny and Theo, as well as Clara. “Said she needs a night out.”

“I do, too,” Theo mumbled as he set his guitar aside and tossed his book away. “I’m in.”

Vinny tore his eyes away from Theo and agreed as well, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend’s waist. “Me too,”

“Me three,” Clara added with a small smile. 

Anakin nodded, looking back down at his phone as he typed a reply. 

We’re so down, we all need a night off, too. 

He sent it then stared at his screen for a few seconds, hesitating only a bit before he typed out his phone number and sent it to her as well. 

-

“It doesn’t matter how young we were, or how young we still are, he has my entire heart and not a day goes by where I don’t think of him. We shouldn’t have gotten together, shouldn’t have even talked to each other as we had no reason to. He was the cool guy in band class who had no idea just how talented he truly was, and I was the nerd who would rather stay late after class and attend book club rather than go straight home,” you read the words you had typed not even half an hour ago, your nerves getting the best of you and making you stutter a bit. “But we did anyway. And I was his from that first second we spoke.” 

You wait a few seconds before glancing up at Evan, who had an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes flickered all over your features as he remained silent, making you feel even more nervous. 

Closing your laptop, you stand up quickly. “I know, it’s bad,”

Before you could run away, his hand reaches out and wraps around your wrist. “Damn, Y/n,” he huffed, making you raise a brow as you sat back down. Once he was sure you wouldn’t get up and run off, he released your hand and sat back in his chair, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth. “I might as well just drop out now.”

Your eyes widened a bit as a surprised laugh escaped you, settling back on your own chair. “What are you talking about?”

Evan gives you a pointed look. “That was amazing,” he said, making heat immediately rush to your face. “I don’t know why you doubt yourself, you’re an amazing writer. At the end, when Kenneth gets to pick a short story to send to his team, there’s no way he won’t pick yours.”

You blush more and shake your head, breaking eye contact with him. “That’s still three months away,” you point out. “That’s a long time, and I haven’t even decided on what I’m going to write about.”

Evan rolled his eyes as he shut his laptop and shoved it into his bag. “Just take the compliment, Y/n,” he laughed and stood up. “I’m serious, your piece is good. Kenneth will love it.”

You look up at him, a grateful smile on your lips. “Thank you,”

He smiled back as he grabbed his phone. “It’s getting late,” he noted as he pocketed it. “Can I walk you home?”

You nod and pack away your things before standing up and walking across campus side by side with Evan. “Thank you for today, it was fun,” you say as you stand outside your dorm. “I’m really glad to have you here with me. It’s not so lonely because of you.”

Evan grins at you, reaching one arm out and hugging you once you stepped into his embrace. “The feeling is mutual,” he says and pulls away. “Promise.”

You shake your head as you grab your keys. “See you tomorrow?”

He nods. “If I can get my assignment done in the next three hours,” he joked and walked away. 

You watch him for a few seconds before entering your room, tossing your bag onto your bed and grabbing your phone. “Shit,” you mumble when you realize that you never actually got back to Anakin. 

Bailey, your roommate, walks in just as you raise your phone to your ear, and she gives you a smile as she quietly shuts the door behind her. “Hey,” she mouths, dropping her own bag onto her bed. 

“Hi,” you say back as you listen to the phone ring a few times before it connected. 

“Princess,” came Anakin’s voice. It was slurred a bit and you could hear loud music in the back, making your brows lift slightly. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Ani,” you say, unsure if he could even hear you. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier, I got held up with something…are you at a party right now?”

There was a beat or two of just music before he answered. “A club, actually,”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” and then he went quiet again for a few seconds. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.”

You nod even though he couldn’t see you, and you could feel Bailey’s gaze on you. “Okay, well, I feel bad about it, so I just wanted to call and see what you were up to,”

“Don’t feel bad,” he brushed you off, making your face fall a bit at how dismissive he sounded. “I gotta go, baby, I can barely hear you. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, giving your roommate a reassuring smile when you notice her look of concern. “I love you.”

“You too,” he said and then the call ended.

Your heart skipped a beat at how quick that call was, and you dropped your hand with a quiet scoff. Part of you wished he left the club and stood outside of it to talk to you for a few more minutes, but he already sounded drunk. He must’ve been there for a while now, but you still felt a little hurt that he ended it so soon. 

“You okay?” Bailey asked as she grabbed her bin for the shower. 

While you didn’t know her very well, she seemed nice enough. You were sure you and her would become a lot closer the longer you roomed together, but for now you didn’t feel the need to tell her about your concerns. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, smiling afterwards for good measure. 

“Okay,” she smiled back, grabbing a towel. “I’m off to the showers.” 

You nod and watch as she leaves the room again before looking back down at your phone. Chewing on your bottom lip, you type out a quick text before moving back against your headboard and grabbing your laptop, suddenly feeling inspired enough to start your short story. 

-

Princess: I hope you’re having fun, Ani. I’m sorry again. I love you. 

Anakin didn’t answer you and pocketed his phone before downing his third shot of the night. Liz was next to him at the bar while Vinny and Clara were off dancing, and Theo was a few stools down. “Hey,” she called over the loud music, making him lean closer to her in order to hear her better. “Have you ever gotten high?”

Anakin shook his head, the fast movement making his already dizzy head spin a bit more. “No, never,”

“Never?” She asked, shock lacing her tone as she took out a plastic bag from her purse. “Wow, your girlfriend really kept you on a short leash, huh?”

“I guess,” he said without really thinking over his words. “What is that?”

“Just a little something to make this night even more fun,” she smirked.

“How did you even get that in here?” He asked as she opened the bag and took out one of the little pills. “We were checked at the doors.”

She shrugged, “I have my ways. Want one?”

Anakin looked at the pill she held up, a teasing smile on her red lips and her brow raised. “No,” he shook his head, watching as she shrugged again and placed the pill on her tongue.

“Suit yourself,” she said as she put the bag back in her purse. “Dance with me.”

He couldn’t say anything before she grabbed his hand and another drink as she guided him towards the middle of the club. The place was packed and Anakin kept a firm hold on her hand as she made her way through the crowd of drunk people, still worried about her getting separated even in his near-drunk state. 

She placed her hand on his shoulder and he kept his at his sides, making Liz roll her eyes. “Come on, Anakin,” she said over the music. “Dancing with me isn’t cheating.”

She held the drink up to his lips and he took more than a few sips from it before she finished it off and set it on a nearby table.

“Dance with me,” she said again, guiding his hands up until they were on her hips. “Have fun.” 

Anakin squeezed her waist a bit as he felt his head spin from all the drinks he had before this. She moved their bodies to the music, a proud smirk on her lips as she slid her hands up and gripped his hair. 

If he closed his eyes and let himself get lost inside his own head, he could imagine that it was you who he’s dancing with, and that it was your body that is pressed to his. Your hands that are tangled in his hair, pulling on it in the way you knew he loved.

She jumped and swayed against him, a laugh leaving her mouth at the dazed expression in his eyes. He had no idea how long they did that before she stilled her body and stared at him. 

Liz leaned up and teased his lips with the tip of her nose before she turned around and pressed her back against his front. Her hands cover his that were still on her hips as she subtly ground back against him, making Anakin jolt back a bit at the same time Vinny slaps him lightly on his shoulder. “Hey, man,” he called out. “You doing okay? You seem a bit…wasted.”

Vinny eyed Liz, who just gave him an innocent smile as she reached up to fix her hair. “I think I am,” Anakin answered and Vinny nodded, wrapping his arm tighter around Clara’s waist. 

“I think we’re done for tonight,” he said, mainly to Liz. “Come on, Anakin.”

Vinny took his forearm and began to pull Anakin towards the exit. “Are you coming?” Anakin asked Liz, who just shook her head.

“My nights just begun,” she said before Vinny fully tugged him away from her, nodding at Theo on his way out.

[hypermanga]

Dear diary (David -Lost Boys- x reader)

Pairing: David (Lost Boys) x Female!Reader

Word count: 3062

A/N: I’m back from the writing block (if you can call having dozens of fanfic ideas in my head but not writing any of them down that), I’ll try to update new fics of new fandoms as well as the ones with the fandoms I’ve ever written before.

This is my first fic for The Lost Boys (1987). After watching the movie and following Tumblrs like  @theyreonlynoodlesmike​ (thank you so much! You inspired me to write about this fandom) I motivated myself to write fanfics about this vampire gang. 

I hope you like it!

                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Diary, 

New life, new me, right? 

Santa Clara was not the place you'd imagined spending your teenage and young adult years when you were a child. Your parents had decided the busy city of San Francisco wasn't suited for them, with all the hustle and bustle, so they settled on the Californian coast-city. At first, you had been more than adamant, given that you left all your friends behind; Well, all except for one. Your trusty diary had been something that you had carried everywhere, and inked in its pages were your deepest thoughts. 

He knew about your school's fondest memories, your first crush and, since you arrived, your dread for a certain gang's leader. 

It had been your first weekend in the city, and you'd decided to clear your thoughts after a long afternoon of studying for your mid-terms. The beach was busy with surfnazis and their girlfriends, friend groups or people who wanted to catch a break from the busy Boardwalk. You'd thought it was a good idea to take a walk down the beach to somewhere secluded, but your plan was thrown out the window when you heard the roaring engines of some motorcycles: they strutted through the Boardwalk as they owned the place, and everyone seemed to know who they were, and instinctively moved out of their way. You didn't want to hang around to get to know them, they screamed trouble, especially after reading the several 'Missing' posters hung around the fair.  Grabbing your backpack, you made a beeline towards the fair's exit, making sure no one followed you as you entered the video club; After all, your night had been cut short, and you definitely needed something to distract yourself. 

The shop's owner, Max, had greeted you, happy to see "a new face" as he'd put it, offering you the vast range of movies for which you thanked him profusely. As you got lost inside the building, you heard Max's voice trying to throw someone out followed by a sigh. 

Turning your head, you saw the squad from before. As your "Stranger danger" instinct kicked in, you tried to evade them, twisting and turning the shop's corners strategically so that they wouldn't noti-

"Well, who do we have here" A male's voice had you cursing your deprecate secret agent's skills. There they were, looking at you, and even though the two blondes were the closest to you, the bleached-haired one was the one who made your stomach churn in uneasiness.

"Someone who just wanted to grab a movie, and has exams next week so I don't have the time to speak with you guys" You tried to cut the conversation short, hoping they would get the hint and leave you to your own devices. 

It seemed they had taken the hint, until the bleached-haired one approached you, his gloved hand extending towards your face. You wanted to move, but his emerald green eyes held you in place until you felt him way too close "What the fuck?! Didn't I tell you to fuck off?" You slapped his hand away, surprising him so, and running towards the Boardwalk as you heard the other boy's snickering at his leader's failed attempt at flirting with you "Shut it" Was the last thing you heard before the video club's door closed.

Dear diary,

Just my luck, I try to rent a film to distract myself and I end up in front of some "rejected bad boy members from a boy band" blocking my way. And even one of them decided it was okay to enter my personal space! What the fuck is his problem? What a jerk! Let's hope to all the stars above that I don't run into any of those guys, especially the bleached-haired one...What a creep.

The next days only seemed to fuel your hatred, as you seemed to always stumble into them no matter the circumstances: at the ferris wheel? Check; At the carroussel? Check; At the videoclub when you returned the movie? The bleach blonde was just smoking right outside, shooting you a flirty smirk that you avoided; At the beach? Check...It was a nightmare "Look, I don't know what's your problem with me, but could you not follow me?" You turned to them, as they were about to mount in their bikes "And what if it's you who can't stop following us, all of us can sense the way you look at me" The bleach blonde whispered the last part, making you blush "If looking at you like a creep turns you on...Better get that checked" You shrugged before running towards the bus stop, leaving a dumbfounded David behind as Paul and Marko laughed at him.

This thought, though, changed completely when you returned several nights later at the Boardwalk for a walk near the beach. First, you heard some catcalls and lewd comments that made you want to punch the living daylights of whoever said that, but adrenaline started to kick in as you sensed some surfnazis coming right up behind you "Hey babe, wanna join us?" "No thanks" You tried to be as polite as possible, not wanting the situation to take up any more of your time, but they didn't seem to take no for an answer "C'mon, it will be fun, we have booze" "I said I don't want to!" Even though you screamed, everybody was so immersed in their conversations filled with alcohol that they didn't see nor heard you; As one of them tried to grab you, you took off running in the opposite direction, looking frantically for someone who could help you, or just scary enough to get them away from you. 

Your feet were splashing the coast's water, and your screams of help could be barely heard over the music, so everyone assumed you were playing a drunk game of 'Tag'. 

As your lungs started to burn and legs to feel heavy, your hope started to decrease "I can't" pant "Run" pant "anymore..." it really seemed that this was going to be your last night, but just then you spotted some bleached-blonde hair, making you almost thank the gods above. Not a very smart decision, but as for now, the gang had not been as sleazy as the guys running after you.

The gang had been observing you quietly, especially David, who grunted when he saw the surfnazis picking on you, such a shame that he couldn't kill them right there. What surprised him was your eyes widening as soon as you saw him, running towards the motorcycles as you tripped on your own feet "Please" Was the only thing you said before trying to hide. As the surfnazis arrived, all it took was a little mind trick from David to send them running away "Why the fuck does being a woman entail being chased by creeps?" Your foot kicked the sand below you, ignoring the gang's amused looks "You're welcome princess" David answered, lighting up a cigarette "Stop calling me that" "Then what should I call you, mine?" "Very funny" You replied sarcastically "Just call me (Y/N)" You stuck your hand out, which he shook awkwardly before everyone introduced themselves. 

As you talked for a while, you learned that they were quite the bunch, quickly befriending Paul and Marco while David kept stealing glances at you "The last bus left many hours ago, I wanted to take a stroll back, but I don't feel very safe doing that" You looked at the beach, as people became drunken and started to act even stupider "I don't like this idea..." You muttered under your breath, but you knew it was the only option. Damn your parents for going on a date night today! "Does the princess want a ride?" David asked, as if he could read your thoughts "Actually...yeah, but you can drop me off at the street...Sorry, I still don't trust you that much" Arching your brow, David parted from the others, who ventured into a more secluded area for god knows what, as he approached you with his bike "Hold on tight, it's going to be quite the ride" He smirked, as you mounted behind him, holding onto his  "Don't worry I'll be f-DAVID" You were cut midsentence by the motorbike's engine rearing up, making you hold on tight to David, who only chuckled as he sped off into the distance. You really tried to give him directions, but most of the time you were screaming like a madman from speed "Could you fucking slow down?" "Why? Then I wouldn't have you holding on so tight to me" He laughed, making you huff in annoyance "Fuck you" "Perhaps one day princess"

The next day the only thing in your mind was how to thank the boys for what they did with the surfnazi. It was weird how a little mishap could reshape an entire relationship. The problem was, you didn't know where they lived. You'd always seen them leave with their motorbikes through some woods. As you asked your parents about it, always keeping a nonchalant attitude -you didn't need your parents to pry in your relationship with the squad-, and they told you that the only building left was an old a hotel. It had apparently crumbled down after an earthquake and thus, the property was long abandoned by the owners. Nobody had set foot in that place since then. 

At least that's what everyone believed, because who would want to live under those conditions after all?

That was the question that pondered in your head when you were entering the place: Why would they want to live in such a place? 

But there was no doubt that was where they lived: the walls were adorned with rockstar's posters, as well as there were some clothes scattered around, probably from Paul or Marko. But there was no trace of them "Hello?" Your voice echoed around the walls, waking some pigeons up "Anyone there? Marko?" No sound "Paul?" No trace of anyone "Dwayne?" It was as if they were gone "David?" It seemed as if the chant of his name evoked a breeze that cleared some cobwebs. 

A path revealed itself that seemed to go down a little tunnel. As you crawled through it, you started to feel cold, which was weird considering that summer was coming up. As you dropped down, you almost crashed into a wall, coming to a dead end. You almost turned on your heel when you decided to look up.

The shriek that escaped your throat seemed that of a howl, startling David up, dropping down with a demonic stare: his eyes were glowing red...And were those fangs? What the heck was happening?  

So you did the only thing a sane person would do. You ran for your life with David on your heels "Let me fucking go you creep!" You said almost the exact same words you'd spoken the prior night to the surfnazi "(Y/N)!" David's voice sounded almost unnatural, that of a beast "Let me go! I won't die here, alone at the hands of..Whatever you are!" 

As you saw the end of the tunnel, his hand caught your ankle, making you turn your head at him: your eyes were watery, looking straight back at his demonic ones. At once, they turned normal, his fangs disappeared and there was David "(Y/N), you need to calm down" "Okay..." You said, trying to contain the amount of sarcasm that was put in that statement "Really?" Now it was his turn to be surprised, although that victory was short-lived when he saw your arched brow "Of course not you moron! You were hanging upside down, chased me through a dark tunnel with a demonic face, you only show up at night?" "Do I really need to break that down for you, kitten?" "Don't call me that! And yes, I really need to, because I hope you tell me that you are a special effects make up artist or some extreme sleeping champion -" "We are vampires. We chose this place so no one would come to spy, we didn't expect you to miss us so soon" Now he was just playing with you, did he really think that you were going to find it exciting or arousing that he was a vampire?  "Vampires aren't real, they don't exist" At that, his face became demonical again, earning a shriek from you "Do you still think that we aren't real, sweetheart?" Your heartbeat was going wild, too many emotions "Please...Don't hurt me" David let go of your ankle, creeping further into the tunnel "Why would you be still here if you thought I was going to hurt you?" "Because manners come first. I wanted to say thank you for saving me yesterday...Though I don't know if I'm more in danger now" You cast a glance at David, who just smirked, making you snort "That was the last thing I expected to discover today..." 

Dear diary, 

Holy shit, the craziest thing happened to me today! I went to thank the boys at his house...-if you can call an abandoned hotel that- after they saved me from the surfnazis... I found them in a little subcave hanging upside down! Turns out they're vampires! Don't judge me, I'm still trying to process all that, because I don't drink nor take drugs...I feel like everything I believed was unreal suddenly came to life. Even though it's dangerous, it is kind of exciting, isn't it?  I just hope the curiosity doesn't kill the cat, that cat being me.

------------Time skip brought to you by the flying nun --------------

Your head was hurting from the study marathon you'd pulled off all day; Your eyes felt like they were scorched and your neck was demanding some rest, and don't get me started on your mental health: the only thing you wanted to do is walk down the Boardwalk in hopes of some fresh air, but it was way too late for you to go alone, especially after the surfnazi accident.

As you were closing your books to go to sleep, the roaring of some engines sounded in the distance before closing in your house, making you curse them for your headache. 

When they came to a halt, you sighed in contentment, but the clicking sound of a stone against your window made your sigh turn into a growl "C'mon..." You rose from your seat and opened the window "Hey princess! Join us for a ride!" As you looked down, you recognised David's face, as well as Marko's, Dwayne's and Paul's cheering "What the heck guys! It's almost 2 a.m., you're going to wake my parents up" You scolded them, but David paid no attention to that "That answer won't do, princess!" "I'm not a princess, especially not yours, if nothing, I'm a queen!" You replied to David, who was just smirking now at your pitiful attempt at scolding him "And if I were to go, how do you expect me to come? It's not like I can fly off the window..." David only needed those words to fly up to your window, startling you before picking you bridal style as the other guys cheered and wolf-whistled. That only deepened your embarrassment " I don't recall reading that vampires can fly" 

You were grateful that they had dragged you away from home, as you spent all night talking, dancing to rock music, eating chinese food like there was no tomorrow and just, having fun while forgetting about life's problems.

And then exams finished and summer break came by, giving you more time to spend with the vampire gang, who told you more about their past lives, and what was eternal life like...You had so many questions, that sometimes you would forget they were deadly creatures: Paul, Marco and you pranked the other two boys, David always letting you off before taking action with the other boys; You had the most civile conversations with Dwayne out of them all, while with David...It was bizarre: it felt like you could talk about anything with him, he got you and you somehow got him -most of the times, he could be really weird or stubborn, or both- but it felt right. 

And that's how you spent most of your June's nights, until you brought back your diary to reflect on how everything was going.

Dear diary,

I never thought that vampires could be cool to hang around, except when the hunger hits, that's definitely not cool. I feel free whenever I am around them, and my grades are still top-notch, so everything's cool-

Well, not everything, you thought while you scribbled down: your mind kept going back to David, bringing with a tingly feeling at the pit of your stomach: he had that bad boy suave style, and he always seemed to know what was in your mind. Of course, you wouldn't tell him that, that ego boost would kill him even though he is already dead. But you were really comfortable with him, so perhaps...And only perhaps, you felt something more? 

Thankfully, and because of the same bad luck that had brought your meeting, something happened on one of July’s nights.

As David watched you leave for the night, he noticed something near the fountain, a book to be more precise. When he took a closer look, he discovered it was your diary: at first, he decided not to take a peek, after all, they were all your private thoughts...Just like that, he found himself sat in his wheelchair flicking through the pages of your trusty diary. He was halfway through when he found your first entry since you moved to Santa Carla, from when you first met. From then one, the group and especially him wouldn't seem to leave your thoughts, and he could see the change of character and her opinion on him, until he reached the last page, curling upwards after reading it:

Dear diary, 

I think I have a crush on David...

If his heart could still beat, it might have skipped a little bit, not that he would admit that to you, your ego might go through the roof and he wouldn't want to give you the satisfaction. Instead, he just smirked proudly, while reading more intently everything you said about him, his pride relishing after ending every page. 

It was only a matter of time you would come back running to him like that night with the surfnazis, and this time, you were going to ride something else.

MASTERLIST

[t-lostinworlds]

Blurb #2 (T.H.)

a/n: so, i don’t know what or how this happened but *throws fic* here ya go!! *runs and hides in a hole* *peeks back out* enjoy!!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader summary: Tom jet skiing is just too hot for you to handle and it's making you feel certain emotions. So, you take matters into your own hands... somewhat literally. warnings: written fairly quick (so might be shitty), alludes to smut (make out in the bathroom and then some...kinda lol), typos I might have missed (slightly proofread) and oh, the pictures. word count: 1.1k+ (it’s a short one! a miracle! alsklaks)

masterlist in bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

You knew from the moment he picked those shorts to wear that this was going to be dangerous. Then again, you didn't do much to prevent him from wearing it either because your man looks good in them, how can you complain?

But then, he got into the wetsuit. That was when it took all your strength to try and be calm about it, to seem unaffected as you got on the jet ski right behind him. And as you rode into the stretch of the ocean, it became much harder to take control of this fiery feeling inside you. There was just something so attractive with the way he took absolute control of the roaring engine, somewhat taming the beast in the way he maneuvered his way across the waves. Not to mention the feeling of his muscles flexing underneath the tight fabric, your fingers unable to escape them given that you have no choice but to hold onto him.

You do take pride in your sense of control, so you've managed to get off the jet ski and smile sweetly, innocently at your boyfriend, expression a stark contrast to the absolute filth that's swimming in your mind.

It was when he took the wetsuit off did you finally decide that the agony was enough. Your patience has been stretched too thin as you watched him walk under the sun, his wet hair shining, making his curls look even more gorgeous. And with the way the ocean water coated his body, he was glowing underneath the rays, his muscles more defined from his arms, to his broad shoulders, his toned chest, and then those abs, gosh those abs that you could never get enough of. Plus, with how those evil shorts were hanging too low at his hips, his v-line was showing just enough that it had you wanting more of what was hidden in between. Put all of those together and my goodness did he look like an absolute Greek god, one who you wanted to get a taste of.

"Tom? Can you help me with the zip for a sec? I think it's stuck," you called out after your boyfriend who was waiting for you just on the other side of the bathroom door. Your words were a huge lie given that you were already out of your wetsuit, you just needed him inside without raising much suspicion.

Once you unlocked the door, Tom slipped inside, confusion covering his face when he saw you already in your swimwear. Though you didn't give him much time to think as you swiftly pushed him back against the nearby wall, your lips on his in a split second, Tom kissing back not long after as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly.

Your fingers were touching him all over, deliberately feeling his muscles, running them down from his broad shoulders to his biceps, giving them a squeeze making Tom chuckle softly. Then you went further down, playing with the garter of his shorts for a couple teasing seconds before you went slowly back up, warm palms flat against his abs to his toned chest, fingers snaking up his neck and then tangling them in his damp curls. You earned a gasp from him when you tugged on them hotly, your tongue slipping inside his mouth without further hesitation. Albeit a familiar one, both your heads were spinning at the taste, soft moans filling the air as your tongues meet.

"Very sneaky," Tom chuckled lowly against the kiss, wide smirk in full play, his hands going to squeeze at the swell of your bum as he tries to keep up with the absolute fervour in your kiss. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice the way you looked at him. Other than the fact that Tom knows you, he's always focused on you, so of course he noticed and yes, he loved it. "Could've just told me you wanted to—oh," Tom cuts himself off with a gasp at the sudden feeling of your palm pressed up against the tent on his shorts, his hands that were rested on your bum tightening around the flesh in the process.

"Fuck," he breathed out, head thrown back to give your more access as you now moved your kisses down to his neck, sucking on his sweet spots just lightly, careful not to leave any marks. You pulled away for a second to meet his eyes, Tom giving you a nod of consent before you hooked your fingers on his shorts and pulled them down just as you slowly lowered yourself down his body, littering hungry kisses on his chest, his abs and then that luscious v-line.

"Fucking hell," Tom hissed as your nimble fingers wrapped around the base, his eyes screwing shut for a second, lavishing the feeling before he slowly looked down at you to meet your lust-filled gaze.

Tom shook his head in pure awe, brown orbs coated with admiration but also glowing with lust at the sight of you gorgeous on your knees. Then you looked up at him with a sweet, adorable smile, head tilted to the side innocently, but then your eyes, the absolute mischief and devilish look in your beautiful eyes, Tom felt like he was about to bust right then and there. And then you spoke,

"Now, you're going to have to be quiet for me pretty boy."

Tom nodded frantically with a shaky breath, bottom lip quick to get caught between his teeth as he tried to suppress a low, guttural moan once he felt the slickness and warmth of your tongue.

***

"What took you guys so long?" Harry asked as you and Tom walked towards the group hand in hand and wide smiles on both your faces.

With his cheeks turning more flushed, Tom cleared his throat. "The tie of her swimsuit got stuck in the zip," he said, shrugging nonchalantly while you tried your best to bit back a grin, laying your head on his shoulder innocently.

The group only nodded without care, now slowly making their way back to the cars. "You guys want to get some food?" Harry spoke towards everyone.

"I don't know, I think I'm already full," you hummed against Tom's ear only, a shiver running down his spine at the soft purr in your voice. When he met your gaze, you only shot him a playful wink, your smile too mischievous that it was hard for him to seem unaffected since that certain smile was quick to remind him what happened just minutes prior. Which wouldn't exactly be ideal for he can't really hide it in the shorts.

With a squeeze of your hand and a discreet warning glare, Tom silently urged you to behave. At least, until you get back to the hotel. Then he'll let you be as devilish as you want to be.

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you liked it and tell me your thoughts <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega​​​ @vinylmendes​​​ @fallinfortom​​​ @disneysamara​​​ @avengersficwriter​​ @musicalkeys​​ @apatheticanvas67482​​ ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove​​ @averyfosterthoughts​​ @2018shawn​​ @darlingspidey​​ @namoreno​​ @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl​​ @keepingupwiththehollands​​ @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​​ @unbelievableholland​​ @kittenruby​​ @sunkisseddreamer​​ @worldoftom​​ @quaksonhehe​​ @big-galaxy-chaos​​ @clara-licht​​ @dummiesshort​​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​​ @sonofabitchstyles​​ @perspectiveparker​​ @chloecreatesfictions​​ @tombob2005​​ @arivera-30​​

just let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist hun! <3

[purrincess-chat]

Cat’s Not-All-Encompassing Character Ranking

Okay, so I have to admit that I omitted a lot of characters I don't have strong opinions on. Most of them were one-off akumas, so don't get your panties in a twist, your faves are probably still on here (and ranked lower than you think).

As a preface again, these are just my personal opinions. They can't hurt you. You can still like characters more or less than me. And I don't care how you feel about them. This list is for me. And the person that asked for it. So shut up. Go make your own rank list if you’re so butthurt. 

We're going in reverse order this time, starting from the bottom:

84. Gabriel Agreste- I mean, is anyone surprised? I am not private about how I think Gabriel should go to jail. Or fall off a cliff. Or be erased from existence. Rip to those that like him, but I’m different.

83. Thomas Astruc- Honestly, he’s down here on principle. Self-inserts are generally a no-no, and I just laugh every time I see him on screen because he really put himself in this show and said boohoo no one appreciates me XD

82. Bob Roth- I feel like this one should also be obvious. He’s just a dick. Terrible human. I give him 0 stars.

81. Tomoe Tsurugi- We all collectively hate her, right? It’s not just me?

80. Su Han- This mans has small peepee energy. And he bad mouthed Fu, so get FUCKED, my dude.

79. Rolland Dupain- Listen, I get it, he liked Marinette in the end, but I could do without the racism.

78. Nathalie Sancoeur- My opinion of Nathalie took a nosedive after the s2 finale. I just do not care that she is in love with her boss. Don’t care that she’s dying. Just do not have it in me.

77. XY- Justin Bieber ass wannabe.

76. Nora Cesiare- I didn’t care for Nora. I know Thomas loves her, but the overbearing sibling trope is tired.

75. Anarka Couffaine- I underestimated how much I don’t really like her. Like, it’s not full-on hate, but I just do not care for her.

74. Otis Cesaire- Got akumatized because a kid said he could outrun a panther. I’m still not over it, Otis.

73. Andre Bourgeois- No love for the crooked mayor. I hope your wife divorces you. 

72. Alec Cataldi- The real villain of Stormy Weather. Like fr why is he such an asshole?

71. Roger Raincomprix- Is Officer Roger just doing his best? Sometimes. But like sometimes this mans just needs to take a chill pill.

70. M. D'Argencourt- Please get out of the 1600s

69. Ella/Etta- These two are basically the same character, and I am indifferent to both of them.

68. KnightOwl/Barbara- Listen, I would have liked you more if you were less controlling.

67. Majestia- Same as above, but like I guess I like you more

66. Theo- *Mean Girls principal voice* Stay away from underaged girls!

65. Andre the ice cream man- I just want a scoop of chocolate, Andre. Is that too much to ask??

64. Amelie Graham de Vanily- We haven’t seen much of her, but she seems like a snake bitch.

63. M. Kubdel- I mean, if my son wanted to resurrect an ancient mummy and believed in aliens, I’d give the family heirloom to my daughter too.

62. Jalil Kubdel- Lolol, buddy, pal, dude, my guy. Chill.

61. Vincent (Adrien's photographer)- Head empty. Mom’s spaghetti. Idk he’s alright.

60. Manon- I don’t hate Manon. She just gets on my nerves every time she talks.

59. M. Ramier- This mans got akumatized a billion times because he gets emotional about pigeons. I mean, honestly mood.

58. Mme. Mendeleiev- She doesn’t put up with Chloe’s shit, and we respect her for this.

57. Baby August- Someone just give this mans some food. He’s a growing boy.

56. Santa Claus- If I were Santa, I too would list Ladybug as the best kid in the world.

55. Art Teacher- He doesn’t even have a name, but I vibe with him. He seems like he likes to paint scenes of nature with his pet squirrels.

54. Prince Ali- Lil mans just wanted to have a good time. I can respect that.

53. Duusu- Duusu, I get that your Miraculous was broken, but get with the program, girl. You is a hostage.

52. Other Kwamis- Idk, all the ones we haven’t seen as much. I don’t have real opinions on them yet. Just neutral.

51. Sass- He gives me dad vibes.

50. M. Damocles- You go, you funky owl man

49. Jean (Chloe's Butler)- He deserves a raise. What is your name, sir? We may never know.

48. Mireille Caquet- She’s pretty cute. No complaints.

47. Aurore Beaureal- Baby’s first akuma. I love her design. She’s a cutie.

46. Claudie Kante (Max’s mom)- This womans just wanted to go to space and live her dream. We stan a hardworking queen.

45. Hot Dog Dan- I like him more than Andre the ice cream fraud. Sure, my hotdog might turn me purple, but if I ask for chili on it, I bet he’d oblige.

44. Nadja Chamack- I mean, she’s doing her best.

43. Audrey Bourgeois- So, as I said in the episode ranking, I have a love-hate relationship with Audrey. She’s the worst, but that’s why I love her. I love her ironically. Like, yeah she’s atrocious, but I just want to watch her burn the world.

42. Luka Couffaine- Directly in the middle, like he’s always been.

41. Nathaniel Kurtzberg- My opinion of Nath improved after Reverser surprisingly. I ship it.

40. Chris Lahiffe- I like Chris better than Ella/Etta. He’s just a little mans out here living life wanting to grow up. Don’t believe it, Chris. Stay little forever. Being an adult suuuuucks.

39. Fang the Crocodile- The goodest boy.

38. Nooroo- I just want to give him a hug.

37. Mlle. Bustier- She’s doing her best, but I mean, when ya whole class keeps getting turned into supervillains, I’m surprised she’s not an alcoholic.

36. Penny Rolling- I just like her. I think she’s neat.

35. Ondine- Mermaid queen! She’s so sweet, and I love her with Kim. I hope we see more of her in the future.

34. Marc Anciel- Marc is a little cutie bean. Idc if he’s based off one of Thomas’s irl friends. He can stay.

33. Wayzz- He loves Master Fu so much I cry.

32. Felix Graham de Vanily- I know everyone hates canon Felix, but tbh he exudes massive chaotic neutral gremlin energy, and I actually kinda vibe with that. And he pisses with his uncle which is a whole ass mood.

31. Tikki- Tikki is very cute, but bby please work on the preaching. You don’t always know what’s right, babe.

30. Sabrina Raincomprix- Sabrina deserves better. I hope we see good things happen for her.

29. Lila Rossi- Surprised? I actually like Lila. The first fic I ever wrote for this fandom was a Lila redemption. I think she is a good antagonist and foil to Marinette. I absolutely want to see her get dunked on in canon, but that doesn’t mean I hate her.

28. Wayhem- I don’t know why, but Wayhem makes me laugh. I love him XD

27. Uncle Cheng- He’s just a good mans with a birb who wants to make you tasty food. What’s not to like?

26. Trixx- Trixx shot up after GoS. Chaotic bean make Eiffel Tower go bendy

25. Jess- She’s pretty cool. She’s a vibe.

24. Aeon- The cutest bean!!! She saw Adrien and Marinette and said yep. Those two are meant to be together. Jess, we gotta make it happen.

23. Ivan Bruel- Ivan is such a gentle bean. We love him.

22. Mylene Haprele- Smol

21. Fei Wu- I still have not watched the Shanghai special with subs, but I liked her.

20. Gina Dupain- The grandma I aspire to be.

19. Marianne Lenoir- I love her. She is good. She and Fu are so cute. And she seems like she would have kicked le ass back in the day. (and even now)

18. Rose Lavillant- I am so excited for Pigella!! Rose is too cute. We love her. 

17. Gorilla- aka Adrien’s real dad. If the series doesn’t end with Gabriel getting yeeted into the stratosphere and Gorilla adopting Adrien, I don’t want it.

16. Clara Nightingale- She’s in love with Marinette. You can’t change my mind. 16 is also how old I hc her to be, so don’t nobody come for me.

15. Tom Dupain- Most. Supportive. Dad. Soft bean. Just wants to make you fresh bread.

14. Sabine Cheng- Good mom vibes. We love to see her.

13. Juleka Couffaine- Shy goth bean. Just wants to have her picture taken. Definitely a lesbian. We stan.

12. Nino Lahiffe- The goodest boy. He’s just out here doing his best, loving his friends.

11. Chloe Bourgeois- Chloe is another one I have a love-hate relationship with. Her brattiness is funny to me. We had high hopes for her. Honestly, she ranks this high because I like to play with her in fic.

10. Max Kante- He smol and smort. And I adore his friendship with Kim and the fact that he made an AI himself at 14. What a legend.

9. Alya Cesaire- Rip to Alya salters, but I’m different. Outside of Chameleon, Alya is fine. She’s a supportive bff. All yall people that are mad she doesn’t kiss Marinette’s ass all the time need to go out and make real friends. I said what I said.

8. Alix Kubdel- I love Alix. I love how she is always so done with all the lovey-dovey bullshit. She is tiny queen, and Bunnix, while OP af, is still super cool. We love to see her.

7. Kagami Tsurugi- I will fight anyone who shits on Kagami. She has done nothing wrong, you guys are just haters. All she did was exist, and yall said, wow what a toxic bitch?? Disgraceful.

6. Jagged Stone- We are going to ignore the deadbeat dad trope that canon thrust upon him. He is a Marinette stan, and we love that.

5. Kim Le Chien- I really love Kim, you guys. Does that surprise you? Listen, my favorite male character types are sweet beans and himbos. Kim is both of these.

4. Master Fu- If you didn’t pick up on how much I love Fu from the episodes ranking, then idk what to tell you. I want him to be my grandpa. I would trust this mans with my life. He did his best. You paint those pictures, you funky little man. I love you.

3. Plagg- My galaxy trash man. Love him. 10/10 chefs kisses all around.

2. Adrien Agreste- The biggest Marinette stan there is. I just want him to kiss her on the face. And marry her. Idk, I just think that would be neat if he could do that. I just want good things for them.

1. Marinette Dupain-Cheng- Honestly, are you surprised? I have always been and always will be a Marinette stan. If you expected anyone else to be in this spot, then clown suit rentals are off to the left.

[blueeyedheizer]

little black dress - matt

WARNINGS: none

A/N: this fic radiates big debby ryan awkward glance meme energy,, more cliché you die 🤣 but it’s cute ig?

•••

You sighed in content as you stepped inside the house, finally feeling the warmth embracing your body after being in the cold for so long. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, noticing how packed the place already was. You squeezed your friend's hand a little bit tighter as she made her way through the crowd, dragging you with her while she greeted a few people she knew on her way.

"Do we really have to do this?" you whined, already regretting your decision of tagging along with her.

"Aw come on. This guy's parties aren't something you can miss. We're going to have fun, loosen up babe." she says, briefly looking over her shoulder to look at you. "Besides, Matt's here. You wouldn't want to miss an occasion to talk to him would you?" she winks at you with a smirk, causing you to roll your eyes. You tried to hide your body and tug on your dress as much as you could as you followed her silently. You weren't exactly feeling comfortable in the piece you were wearing, and Clara knew it. You had had a small boost of confidence when she complimented you while you tried it on in front of the mirror earlier, but now that you were actually confronted to a crowd of teenagers while wearing the dress in question it was a whole different story. You had never been comfortable with showing too much skin or just wearing short dresses in general, so this was definitely a first for you. A first and hopefully a last. All your insecurities started to stand out to you and you already felt like all eyes were on you.

"Hey guys! Look who I brought!" Clara exclaimed happily as you made your way into the living room where a small group of your people were gathered. Her voice obviously caught everyone's attention and they all turned to you.

Oh great. Exactly what I needed, you thought.

The room soon erupted in cheers as you made your way over to the couch, chuckling at their reaction. Most of them were already tipsy, chugging their cups of alcohol in one take like it was water. Clara took a sit next to you and squeezed your thigh with a wink, obviously referring to Matt who was sat on the couch opposite to yours. She was quick to join everyone else's fun, leaving you to awkwardly sit on your own, trying your best to make yourself small and not draw any attention on yourself.

But when the group decided to play a game of truth or dare, you had no choice but to join in. You couldn't think of any excuse to get out of the situation, therefore there was no escape for you.

The game went by, and so far the bottle still hadn't landed on you. Some spins were close, but they always ended pointing on Clara or Diana, your friendly neighbor that was sat just a little further away from you. She was a good friend of yours, probably a better friend than Clara.

People were sent for seven minutes in heaven, girls were dared to take off their bras without taking off their top, guys were dared to make out with their best friends, and each spin of the bottle was followed by a shot of whatever liquid was inside their cup. It was quite entertaining, to say the least. But that was until Matt got dared to kiss Emma. When that happened, you got up to get yourself another drink in the kitchen. You were already feeling down and you really didn't feel like watching them suck face.

Now it was Clara's turn to spin the bottle. She gave it a firm flick and everyone cheered as it spun and spun, until it landed on Emma.

"Truth or dare?" Clara asked, dragging out the words and smirking. She rested her head in her hands as she looked back at Emma, waiting for her answer like a child would wait for the clock to strike midnight on christmas day. Emma pretended to think for a moment, biting her bottom lip before giving her answer.

"Dare."

You grabbed your beer from the table and placed it to your lips, taking a small chug and fighting back the urge to roll your eyes at her manners.

"Seven minutes in heaven with Matt."

You choked on your drink, eyes widening as everyone started whistling and cheering. The girl next to you rubbed your back, asking if you were okay. You nodded and gave her a small smile before watching as Emma dragged a slightly hesitant Matt to the nearest room. You made eye contact with him before Emma dragged him away and forced him to look back at her when he looked in your direction.

When they were out of your sight, you grabbed Clara's arm and forcefully turned her towards you. God, sometimes you wondered why you were still friends with her.

"Are you fucking serious?" you whisper-yelled, making sure only she could hear you.

"What? They've already kissed! Might as well let them have fun." she giggled drunkenly. You let go of her arm and fell back against the couch, trying to fight back your tears. "Jesus, don't be so uptight, Y/N." she rolled her eyes before taking a long drag of her cigarette. You heard her mumble something that you didn't quite catch, but it surely wasn't anything nice.

After a moment you felt a hand on your shoulder. Diana had moved to sit beside you after hearing your conversation. She knew of your crush on Matt, and she clearly wasn't approving of Clara's whole demeanour. She rubbed your shoulder soothingly and gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned before leaning against her shoulder.

-

"Y/N, babe, why don't you go get the two lovebirds?" One of Emma's friends slurred, smirking at you before taking another chug of her beer. You clenched your jaw at the nickname she gave you and had to stop yourself from making a scene when you heard Clara snort beside you. You scoffed and was about to get up, but Diana placed a hand on your knee to stop you.

"I can do it if you'd like." you gave her a small smile and shook your head no. You genuinely appreciated her offer, but you didn't want to let them win.

"I'll be fine. Thanks Di."

Then you made your way over to the small cramped room.

You didn't know what you were expecting, but you felt your heart drop down your stomach as you opened the door. Emma's arms were wrapped around Matt's neck, her lips firmly locked with his as she pressed her body against his. It took a few more seconds for them to notice you. Emma pulled away and smirked at you before wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb and readjusting her dress, meanwhile Matt just stared at you with wide eyes and parted lips.

"Seven minutes is up." You didn't even try to hide the sadness in your voice as you spoke. After all, Matt didn't know of your feelings for him so you could've been sad for any reason. You quickly turned on your heels, returning towards the living room.

When you got back, Clara was passed out on the sofa, her cup still in hands. You sat down next to Diana again, your throat now hurting from holding back tears; you just wanted to go home and scream into your pillow.

Matt and Emma were soon back on the couch and you watched as she clung onto him, giggling as she started chatting with some other girls. Matt didn't seem to return any of her affection though.

"I'll get another drink." you told Diana with a small forced smile, which she returned with a sympathetic one, followed by a nod.

-

"This fucking bitch." you cursed, leaning against the counter and clenching your fists. You weren't exactly sure wether you were referring to Emma or Clara, but either way worked. You lowered your head and squeezed your eyes shut, allowing your tears to finally break free. Grabbing a glass from the counter, you poured yourself some water and downed it quickly, sighing with relief as the liquid cooled your throat.

"Y/N..." you jumped slightly and quickly wiped your cheeks with the back of your hands but kept your face hidden. "Are you alright?"

"Why do you care, Matt." you said harshly, but he could hear the hurt in your voice loud and clear. You made sure your cheeks were dry and finally turned around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest in the process. Matt sighed and took a few hesitant steps toward you.

"Look, can we— can we talk?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"I don't like Emma." your eyebrows furrowed and you looked down to avoid eye contact, holding your arms closer to yourself as you felt your cheeks start to heat up.

"Why are you telling me that?" you spoke hesitantly. Matt took a few steps closer to you and reached for your cheek. You froze when his thumb started softly brushing over your skin.

"Diana told me." your eyes widened at his words and your head snapped up to meet his own again. You could handle being betrayed by Clara, but Diana?

"What, what did she tell you?"

"Hey, relax." he chuckled at your reaction, brushing a strand of hair off your face.

"Matt, what did she tell you?" he didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a quick yet soft kiss on your lips. Your eyes were wide open as he pulled away, mouth parted and arms still crossed over your chest. You stared at him silently, not knowing what to do or say.

After a moment you snapped out of your daze and lunged foward to connect your lips with his again, this time letting your arms move around his neck while his hands pulled you closer by your waist. Your head tilted to the side as the kiss deepened, fingers moving to slowly drag through his hair, body now fully pressed against his. You moaned softly into the kiss as he hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you up onto the counter without breaking the kiss.

You made out for a solid minute until you eventually pulled away reluctantly for much needed air. You stayed close still, panting lightly against each other's lips until his own moved to your neck, peppering the lightest kisses over your warm skin and leaving small love bites here and there. Your small sighs and whimpers of appreciation didn't go unnoticed as you felt him smirk against you before he pulled away and pressed one last kiss to your lips.

"I'm sorry about Emma." he said, gently taking your chin between his fingers. "I'd much rather have spent those 7 minutes with you." he smirked.

"And I'd much rather have spent them with you instead of imagining you and Emma sucking face in that cramped closet while my so-called friend made me feel like pure shit."

Matt's hands rose to cup your cheeks. "Fuck them." he murmured against your lips before claiming them in a deep kiss, which you gladly returned.

His eyes moved from your eyes, down your body then back up after he pulled away, a small smirk adorning his features.

"I love the dress, by the way."

→ feedbacks are more than welcome. Whether it's just a keyboard smash, an emoji or a single world, it's always appreciated and motivating. ♡

[christophcalledbingo]

The Guessing Game (Dr. King Schultz fic)

I’m not a native speaker of English (I am in fact Spanish), but I do try my best, so forgive me if there is any mistake. I’m also learning German because procrastinating by doing other things rather than college stuff is my jam. I think I’m going to do a second part of this, so I hope you like the first one!

Dr. King Schultz x original female character. 

Warnings: hints of depression, some verbal abuse and attempt of physical abuse and a lot of swearing.

Translations: 

Gute Nacht Fraulein - Good night darling

Sprichst du Deutsch? - Do you speak German?

Bitte - Please

Ja - Yes

Danke - Thank you

Dr. King Schultz is not mine (I wish, duh!)

Another night of pouring drinks for a living. I could not imagine that my life would turn out like this when first I arrived to America with my parents when I was a child. Now I’m completely alone and in a very urgent need of money, so I thought I could handle two jobs… I’m not going to lie, it’s actually pretty difficult being a teacher by day and bartender by night. You might be wondering how I ended up being a bartender, me, a woman. Well, nobody else wanted to do it so there was no objection for me take the part. It is very tiring job and most customers behave like pigs. Some nights I can handle it, other nights I just cry myself to sleep. It’s ok though, I do it for the kids. 

It is a lively Friday night, everybody is out. Being the only tavern open in such a small town is both convenient and a mess. A few bottles are thrown, many spits are being missed and a few tables are being turned in angry poker disputes. Being surrounded by so much uncontrolled testosterone gives me massive headaches, I wish I could go out for a smoke, but today there is nobody than can cover me at the bar. Suddenly someone catches my eye, a stranger enters through the door. I remember every face in this town and no many outsiders come here, but he is in fact a stranger, and quite handsome if I say so myself. He catches me looking at him and I blush slightly. He gets closer to the bar and I can see him clearly now. He looks physically mature but in his eyes look very young, and with a hint of trouble. Blue, brown and green. As if his eyes were a cup of green tea that had been sweetened with brown sugar, and in their reflection I could see a very blue and beautiful sky. He has a very well trimmed greyish beard and mustache, which actually frames his face in a very nice way. I think he is not American and when he opens his mouth my doubts are solved. 

“Gute Nacht, Fraulein.” German, huh. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another European, this is going to be interesting. 

“Good evening to you too, what can I get you?” I say, trying to make him notice that I understood him. 

“Oh! Sprichst du Deutsch?”

“A bit, I can understand it better than I can speak it though.” I feel like I just made a fool of myself, but at least it was a nice icebreaker. 

“So, you are not German, but I can tell than you are not American either.” He is very charming...

“What gave it away?”

“Not many Americans know German, I just took a wild guess.” He is very charming indeed. “From where in Europe are you from?”

“Try to guess” I say with a grin in my face, trying not to laugh. “Oh, wait…”

“Yes?” He says, looking directly at my eyes.

“You didn’t tell me what do you wanted to drink, let me fix it up for you while you guess.” He smiles warmly. 

“Pale ale, bitte.” That hint of German in the end makes my legs shake. 

“Right up!” I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m actually shaking. 

“So, you don’t have an American accent, that’s for sure. You are more like from the south, from the Mediterranean?” 

“Ja!” 

“You’re way of moving is quite rhythmical, not like an Italian though…”

“Nein.” As I say this, a drunk guy comes right at me, right when I’m in the middle of serving the ale, and grabs my hand from the other side of the counter. 

“DaMN! YoU are BEautifuL!” He is grabbing tighter, fingernails and all. I drop the glass, half full of bear, due to the pain.

“Please, let me go…” I say, trying to hold back my tears from the pain, my wrist is starting to bleed. 

Before I can say anything else, the handsome stranger grabs the drunk from the neck, but the latter is not letting me go, in fact he is grabbing tighter, and the wound gets deeper. 

“Let her go.”  Says the stranger with a very deep voice. 

“HeY HoN, Do YOu WanT to Go TO thE BAck aNd SuCk mY-”

Before he finishes that sentence, the stranger grabs the arm that was around my wrist and twists it, I hear a pop and then I’m free.

“MOTHERFUCKER! YOU BROKE MY ARM!” The pain must have made him sober all of a sudden.

“Next it’s going to be your nose if you don’t shut your mouth. I don’t tolerate the rude, even less when it involves hurting others.” He looks at me while I’m trying to stop the bleeding from my wrist. 

Everybody in the tavern is looking at us, not as if they want to start a fight, but as if they were amazed by the stranger, myself included. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!” My boss shouts as he appears from the other side of the room. 

“Sir, she has been hurt, I’m taking her to her home.” The stranger said, while helping me to get up.

“No way, I don’t have-” He shuts in an instant when he sees the other guy’s arm.

“What did you do to him?! Are you insane?! He is a client!”

“And she is your employee.”

“I’m going to call the sheriff!”

“Do it, call him…” I don’t know why, but the stranger is smiling. 

“Tom, go tell Sheriff Cooper that we need him, immediately.” And there goes Tom.

“I just got one question for you.” Says the stranger. 

“Huh? The fuck are you saying?”

“Are you Mr. Frank Last?” Why is he-

“Yes, I am. Why are you asking, old man?” Then, the handsome stranger looks at me, smiling.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Dr. King Schultz, travelling dentist and bounty hunter. And you, my friend, have a price for your head: for breaking, entering and stealing on multiple houses, north of the river.”

“Wait, how the fu-”  He cannot finish his sentence. The strange- the doctor is so quick that I didn’t even notice that he had his gun out. He puts a bullet on my boss's right leg, making him fall to his knees.  

“AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! SON OF A BITCH! YOU FUCKING SHOT ME!” There is blood all over the floor.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE!!!!!” Sheriff Cooper is at the door, looking at all the mess. The doctor helps me to get to the sheriff, but he looks very calmed, which is a very huge contrast if we take into consideration the ambiance of the bar: tense as fuck. 

“Ah! You must be Sheriff Cooper. My name is King Schultz and I’m here to recover the bounty for Mr. Frank Last, a delinquent that has 500$ on his head.”

“What?!” The sheriff looks genuinely puzzled. 

“He is a criminal.” He hands a wanted poster of my boss’s face to the sheriff. “And also, that guy over there was trying to hurt this lovely lady.” With tears still in my eyes I look at the sheriff and nod. The sheriff sighs.

“Ok people, this establishment is closed until further notice.” Everybody shouts and screams, but there is nothing they can do about it. 

...

The handsome doctor asks me where I live, and I just tell him, no doubts or hesitations, I just want to get home. We enter my cold and tiny home and he asks me for a first aid kit or any supplies that may help to cure my wounds. I tell him that everything he might need is in the bathroom, and so he leaves me alone in my kitchen. 

“Got it!” He shouts in the distance after a couple of minutes. 

As he examines my wound, I look at his face, which is truly focused on my hand. I see his eyes flickering with excited concentration.

“That detestable man had dirt on his nails and now the wound is infected.” Of course it is, all the bad stuff happens to me.

“You said you were a dentist, right?”

“Ja”

“Isn’t curing wounds more of a ‘doctor doctor’ thing?” He bursts into laughter. 

“Of course, but you do not start working in the bounty hunter business if you don’t know how to cure a basic wound.” I just made a fool of myself, again. “And also, dentists also need to know how to cure wounds. If you saw the kind of mouths I’ve seen, truly disgusting.” As he says this, he starts to disinfect, and I try my best to hold the pain.

“...Spanish”

“Huh?”

“I’m from Spain, but I moved here with my family when I was very young.”

“How interesting, I’ve never been to Spain… Is it nice there?”

“I don’t remember much, but I do remember the nature, the sun and the breeze. Much more steady than here, that’s for sure.”

“It sounds lovely.” He has finished to cure my wound and has putted a bandage on my wrist to protect it from further infection.

“By the way, the name is Clara, Clara Valle. However, everybody is so funny around here that they call me ‘Claire of the Valley’.”

“But… we are on a mountain?”

“It makes no sense, I know. It’s just the literal translation of my surname”

“Well, Clara, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He grabs the hand that is not injured and kisses my palm, I blush a lot. No one has never been such a gentleman to me, I quite like it. 

“The pleasure is mine. How should I call you? Is Dr. Schultz ok?”

“Just call me King, if you want of course.”

“Danke, King.” He turns away as if is looking for something, when in truth he is hiding the fact that he is blushing. I can see it in his ears, they are completely red.

“For what?”

“Saving me? Curing the wound? I don’t know, you name it. Most of the times working at the tavern is bearable, but it’s nice to know that someone has your back.” I say, looking at the ground. Half ashamed that I needed help today, half happy that it was him who came to the rescue. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it was the least I could do. They were behaving like neanderthals, absolutely detestable.”

“I couldn’t even serve you your drink!”

“That is the least of your worries. Being completely honest, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” Oh my Lord, is he flirting with me? I just stay in silence, I don’t know what to say… If I open my mouth it would be to press it against his, but that is a very bold move. I just met him! I don’t know if he finds me attractive enough, no one ever does... “Well, I should get going then.”

“Wait! You could sleep here if you don’t have anywhere to do it. My sofa is quite comfortable. I could sleep in it and you could sleep in my bed. It’s the least I can do…” I stop talking when I realise that he is smiling, a very wide smile, and that he is looking at me in the eyes. “I’m so sorry if that was inappropriate! I was raised that way, I’m very direct!” I’m practically shouting because of the embarrassment. 

“I can see that, but don’t worry. I will go to the inn and stay there for a few nights, preparing for my next travel.”

“Oh…” It was obvious, but somewhere inside of me hoped that he would stay.

“Well, if there is nothing else you need help with-”

“Actually, I cannot move my hand very well as you can imagine. Could you help me untie my corset?” I say, while I grab my hair and show him my back.

He says nothing, he just gets close to me and starts to undo the knots of the corset. It is convenient that I’m no facing him, because my face is red once again. I can feel his breath in my neck. I also feel like fingers brushing my back intentionally, but I’m a bit scared of my own feelings, so I just ignore it. I do everything I can to hide my face and my intentions until he finishes.

“There you go, glad that I was able to provide some further assistance. Goodbye then, dear Clara.” He says, while looking at the floor.

“King, could we meet before you leave town?” He raises his head and he looks at me while I hold my loose corset to my chest.

“Of course. In fact, I can look for you tomorrow. We could go for a cup of coffee, if you want.”

“That would be truly delightful.”

[lnc2]

An Episode as Generic as Its Name: A Stormy Weather 2 Breakdown

I have a lot of... feelings about this glorified in case you missed it recap and they’re all clamoring to be discussed at once so this will not be a pretty essay but a salt dump because that’s all my frantic hands can take.

Mrs. Lot don’t have shit on me rn.

First of all, it’s ironic that an episode centered around the idea of change goes out of its way to highlight just how much hasn’t changed at all. Recap episodes are never my favorite, but especially here, when every monologue from the characters accompanies a flashback that contradicts the very idea that the writers are trying to push forward.

Chloe’s flashbacks did not show her moments of growth, but only her nastiness, reinforced in the present by her continued nastiness.  Gabriel is after the miraculous. Nino and Alya are in love.  Marinette is able to hang out with Adrien, Adrien gets to go to school. Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug.  Ladybug thinks she and Chat are a great team.

I hesitate to even say that Nathalie has changed at all– her behavior is the same we just were given an insight into her head.

... So what exactly were the changes that were supposed to be highlighted?

Instead of focusing on Chloe’s softer moments, or Marinette’s bravery vis a vis Ladybug and understanding vis a vis Adrien, we’re forced to watch half an hour of transformation sequences and flashbacks that show us how ML is in its 3rd season and the plot hasn’t really progressed at all.

The amount of times everyone was like, wow, we’ve changed so much! made me think that this episode was just supposed to be a writers room call out to skeptical fans saying “Here!  I’ll walk you through their character growth that’s happened over the last two seasons.  Now shut up and watch the show!”

Unfortunately it failed spectacularly.

Thinking beyond the heavy-handed theme for this episode, one thing that I will say it did well was highlighting the major players arcs in this series.

And not in a good way.

Poor Chloe.  I’m not sure what they’re trying to tell us about her character– one episode we’re being beat over the head with the idea that people can change and we should give unlimited second chances, and ultimately Chloe has the capacity for good.  Which we’ve seen.  Chloe’s moments of vulnerability are beautiful.  And then she’s right back to being the absolute worst.  And not in a “these things take time” kind of way but in a confusing, wtf is happening kind of way.  Are we supposed to root for her or not?  Is her redemption happening or not?

“Once a villain, always a villain?” I don’t know Zag, you tell me.

Alya and Nino definitely get the short end of the stick here.  As much as I love DJWifi, latter half of S2 and all of their appearances in S3 focus around their relationship as far as it extends to each other and not their great qualities as heroes in their own right or their relationships to their friends.  How is their arc only found in their relationship?  Nino, who was akumatized for his best friend, and Alya, who theoretically wants nothing more than to be a journalist and does anything for the story, have been pushed to the side. (Note: I love that we get to see a happy, healthy POC relationship.  The issue lies in this being their only arc.)

The Agreste storyline manages to be the stalemate shitshow it’s always been.  Gabriel hasn’t changed and with the exception of Nathalie taking on Mayura, neither has that house.

Which brings me to Adrien and Marinette.

Marinette, ugh they did you so dirty here.  I cannot articulate how angry this makes me so I’ll break it down into points:

1. Marinette’s “changes” as presented in this episode revolve entirely around her ability to hang out with Adrien.  Not in her growth as a person, not in her gaining confidence as Ladybug and conquering her fears, not as being the bigger person.  But in how she got to hang out with her crush.

2. They didn’t even show the right changes she’s made.  Marinette always tried to hang out with Adrien.  It would have made a better point with what I think they were going for at the end of this episode to show how Marinette’s feelings have moved from I just want to date him to I want him to be happy even if it’s not with me which we see in Frozer and Captain Hardrock and the Collector to name a few.

3. Tikki’s comment that now starts the beginning of a new, self-improved Marinette completely BAFFLES me.  Beyond the fact that every episode is about improving Marinette whether she needs it or not, nothing changed in this episode from beginning to end.  She dropped off Adrien’s homework as she did before. She already was willing to let him go in Frozer.  Emphasizing how she appreciates his friendship isn’t new here.

Then we have Adrien.  Adrien who is arguably the least changed character from beginning to end.  The only changes shown are his ability to go to school and have friends and we got that in Origins.  There really isn’t much to say here except to bemoan the fact that Adrien is given so few opportunities by the writers to change that even when he’s had those opportunities (Copycat!) they are presented as if he was the one in the right and didn’t need to alter his behavior in anyway.  He even had his moment in Glaciator where he told Ladybug he accepted that she was his friend only to be a total jackass in Frozer when the same issue came up.

Which brings me to Plagg’s little monologue about Ladybug “standing him up” and confessing that she liked someone else.  It was very clear in Glaciator that Marinette never said she could make it to dinner and the way Ladybug is continually framed as being in the wrong here is maddening.  That and the fact that she told him she doesn’t feel the same way and he keeps pursuing her, and attention is drawn to that fact in this episode.  It makes me wonder how any of the writers could view any of this as character growth.

(Also where the fuck was Kagami?)

Now having said, all of this, you would think that an episode that spent nearly half an hour talking about change and moving forward etc. etc. might be building up to something.  And you would be

so wrong.

I held out hope for the end.  I honestly did. When Adrien compared the two letters from Marinette I thought maybe we’ll finally see some momentum with the love square.  Whether it was Adrien’s revelation about Marinette’s crush or even her identity as Ladybug I honestly didn’t care.  I just wanted something to happen.

And it didn’t.

Instead we got a reset button. 

Another, another “lol jk just a friend” with the only exciting actual change in this entire half hour being the Luka/Marinette foreshadowing.

We’re in Season 3 pulling Season 1 jokes.

Will they or won’t they doesn’t work when they never actually do anything.

And finally, in the spirit of actually doing something. 

Someone, please, explain something to me.

Of all the akumas to invoke, why the hell did they choose Stormy Weather, a fan favorite, and not even do anything interesting with her?  I’m all for breaking formulas and having akumas be background nonsense – Clara confusedly describing LB’s lucky charm is how we work around it in fics–  but I want an actual plot to go with it.

We were baited and switched, forced to watch a half hour webisode that attempted to show us growth but only served to highlight how much of a let down this show has been.

Stormy Weather marked a promising beginning.

So why does Stormy Weather 2 make me feel like we haven’t moved forward at all?

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Feel Something (Tommy Lee x reader)

Summary:

From the prompts list: "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

Requested:

@horrorpxnk

Warnings:

Language, angst, fluff

//

You definitely aren’t happy to be here. Looking around at all the sweaty bodies grinding on each other and people practically fucking in the corners around the mansion, you know you just want to go home to your tiny apartment that you love. You love the small, simple things. You still have no clue why Vince decided to buy a huge mansion when it’s just him, Sharise, and Skylar on the way. You also have no clue why Sharise thought it would be a good idea to have a party when she’s pregnant.

You’ve known the Crue for a very long time now. You were best friends with Nikki when he was still in London. You helped him and Tommy find Mick. You also helped them lure in Vince by acting like you were going to sleep with him. Which you eventually did in a drunken state of mind one night when you guys were still living in the Crue house. Damn, that seems like such a long time ago.

You’ve always been close with the Terror Twins. You would usually help them with their antics at the beginning. But, once Nikki started doing heroin, it drove you away from him. As much as you loved-and still love-him, you just couldn’t handle how aggressive he was. You nearly got socked in the face for saying the wrong thing. He would yell at you when you’d suggest rehab. It hurt you. You were just trying to help.

Nikki was your first love. It killed you to leave him when he was suffering, but he wouldn’t let you help him. You met Nikki when he first moved to LA. You just turned sixteen and he was working at some record store. You, being the music nerd you are, decided to go in to see if they had anything new. You knew that Nikki had just started working there since you came in every week and you’d never seen him before. He was definitely attractive. He gave off a mysterious vibe that you loved. Nikki looked up and instantly liked you too. At least that’s what Nikki told you. You don’t know if that’s true or not. Nikki asked you out on a date, and you two started dating after that. You guys broke up when you found out he cheated on you. Multiple times. That was a month before the band got together in ‘81. Surprisingly, it was never awkward with Nikki. You were closer than ever before. You two just work better as best friends.

You were instantly attracted to Tommy when Nikki brought him around. He was full of energy, and the same age as you. He made you laugh a lot. He tried to include you in his and Nikki’s antics as often as he could. He had this smile that was so contagious. The same thing with his laugh. You loved everything about him. The only problem was, he went through girls like they were nothing. And still does.

You’ve had a crush on Tommy since you first met him. It drives you crazy that you can’t have him. You’re still skittish with dating guys since Nikki cheated on you. He still apologizes for that to this day. You know he loves you, and you love him too. You don’t know what you’d do without that wild haired bassist. Nikki knows about your crush on Tommy. He’s tried dropping hints about it, but they just go right over the drummer’s head. He can’t tell how much you like him, even though you’ve been best friends for years.

You sigh at the situation, leaning against the couch cushions. You watch in disgust as Nikki snorts two extremely long lines of cocaine. You want to say something, but you don’t want to cause a scene. You’ll just get on his ass about it later. You look up from Nikki to see Tommy with a brunette on one side and a blonde on the other. They flirt with him relentlessly, causing you to roll your eyes. You don’t see why he loves girls that just throw themselves at him. It’s disgusting.

Tommy looks up to meet your eyes, but you quickly look down at the table. You know you’ve been caught glaring. You know that Tommy will most likely not say anything which is a relief. You look up again as you see him move. His eyes are locked on a gorgeous blonde that’s standing on the balcony. You instantly recognize her as Heather Locklear. You feel a pang in your heart and tears spring to your eyes. You can’t even hate her! She’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met.

You’re about to get up and leave when Nikki grabs your hand.

You can see that he knows that something’s wrong. “What’s the matter, (Y/N)?”

You know better than to open your mouth. As soon as you try to speak, you know you’re going to cry. You just point out to the balcony where Tommy is laughing at something Heather said. Nikki turns his head. His features soften as he realizes what’s going on.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Nikki says sadly, looking back at you. “He just doesn’t know.”

You scoff. “He should know! It’s not like I’m his type anyways. I mean, Heather is great! She’s beautiful, funny, and kind. Everything I’m not!”

Nikki scowls at you. “Don’t say that. You’re so gorgeous. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. I regret cheating on you every day. You deserved so much better than me. You’re such a badass too. That punch after you found out fractured my nose.”

You smile, remembering how you got so angry after you found out. You punched him square in the nose and left the apartment. You came back one week later. Nikki’s nose was still bruised pretty bad, but he forgave you.

“You deserved it, asshole.” You lean on Nikki, resting your head on his shoulder. “Am I just not good enough?”

Nikki wraps an arm around your shoulders, causing you to practically cuddle him. He leaned back on the cushions. Your head is now on his chest. “Of course you’re good enough. Hun, you deserve better than him. Hell, any of us.”

You smile at his answer. “Thanks, Nik. I needed that.” You don’t say anything after that. You two just sit there for what only feels like two minutes, but was probably thirty. You get out of Nikki’s grip, who looks sad that you got up. “I’ll see you later, alright? I’m gonna head home and cuddle with Whisky.” You smile, thinking of your chocolate lab puppy at home. You lean down and kiss Nikki on the cheek, to which he smiles widely at.

You say bye to Mick and Vince before you walk out the front door. You’re about to take off on the Harley that Nikki got you for your last birthday when a familiar voice yells your name. You turn to see Tommy running after you. He stops in front of your bike, completely out of breath. You get off of the steel horse, then lean against it.

You laugh. “And you said you’re in shape.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

You raise your hands in surrender. “Just sayin’, Mr. Rockstar.”

He laughs. Then you both go silent. Tommy looks almost nervous. You’re just waiting to hear what he came out here to say. He just looks down at his feet, kicking the rocks that are scattered about the driveway.

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you come out here to say?” You ask, laughing a bit. His head snaps up. His face turns tomato red with embarrassment. “I mean, I could stand out here in silence with you all night but I do have a puppy to go home to.”

Whisky was also a present from Nikki. He knew how much you wanted a dog, so he took you to the animal shelter where you found a small puppy to adopt. Nikki co-parents the sweet dog.

“Well, you didn’t think you could leave without saying bye to me, now did you?” He says, finally looking you in the eyes.

You shrug, looking down at the leather seat. “You seemed a bit busy.”

He laughs, nudging you. “Are you jealous.”

“Nope,” You say, no emotion on your face. “I was talking to Nikki and noticed you were with Heather. I figured you didn’t want to be bothered.”

Tommy looks down at the seat now, picking at it a bit. “Yeah, I saw you two getting comfty on the couch.”

“I wouldn’t say-.” You cut yourself off, smirking at the flustered drummer. “Wait a minute. Are YOU jealous?”

“W-What? N-No,” He stutters, turning red again. “I mean, even if I was, you wouldn’t date me. I’ve liked you since we met which is a long damn time. I thought that you might’ve noticed and do something since I’m too chicken shit to-.”

You cut Tommy off by pressing your lips to his. He freezes for a moment, but then melts into your touch. He kisses back with passion. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. You wrap your arms around Tommy’s neck. Your hands tug slightly at his hair. He groans into your mouth, causing you to smile.

You pull away, grinning from ear to ear. “I like you too, T-Bone.”

His eyes widen. “Really?”

You nod. His eyes light up like a Christmas tree. The next thing you know, you’re off of the ground and in Tommy’s arms. He spins you both around, yelling “YES!” over and over again.

“Tommy I’m happy you’re happy but if you don’t stop I will puke on you!” You yell.

He laughs, putting you down. “I’m sorry. I just got really excited.”

You giggle, kissing his cheek. “I could tell.”

He smiles, pecking your lips. “So will you go on a date with me?”

“What abou-.”

“I just met Heather,” Tommy laughs. “Besides, she’s nothing compared to the girl I’ve been crushing on since I turned eighteen.”

“Okay.”

“Is that an answer to the date?”

You laugh. “Of course it is.”

He picks you up again, this time allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a long time.”

You lean in, kissing Tommy hard on the lips.

“I KNEW YOU GUYS WOULD GET TOGETHER!” You hear someone yell from the porch.

You pull away from Tommy, looking towards who yelled. You laugh to see Nikki, Vince, and Mick all standing there, cheering the two of you on. You blow them a kiss before going back to making out with Tommy.

“GET A ROOM!” Vince yells, but you flip him off. You smile into the kiss as you hear the guys laughing.

This was definitely worth the wait.

Taglist:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre

Tommy: @2dead2function @horrorpxnk @wft-clara @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @jjjjjjjoshdun @nikkifuckinnsixx @daisystuffsstuff

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 4 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: Hello everyone! Wow! Thanks for loving my fic?!?! I'm still baffled. I'd like to thank Kate, Julia, Laura and anyone else who had to put up with my endless nagging and requests for proofreads and feedback. The rest of you - y'all better enjoy this one!!! This part has no flashbacks because why live in the past when the present is so fucking awesome right?

Word Count: ~2.5K

Warnings: Chaotic Joe, slight smut (I know, right?), insane fluff, swearing (of course), drinking (obviously).

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

###

"Then don't."

Annabelle dropped her backpack to the floor in the middle of Ben’s living room and took exactly three steps forward before her body collided with his, their arms wrapping around each other as their lips crashed in a heated kiss.

“Um, I -”

“It’s fine,” his voice was almost a whisper, “I still don’t have any condoms.”

Lifting her chin with the palm of his hand, he hungrily kissed Annabelle and felt her stand up on the tips of her toes as she tried to deepen the kiss even more. Ben started to stumble backwards, leading them back into the bedroom, grabbing the hem of her deep purple sweater and pulling it up. They broke the kiss so Ben could pull her sweater over her head and chuck it aside and quickly rid himself of his own jumper.

“Oh, shit,” Annabelle giggled when she took in Ben’s black wife-beater and her black tank top, “we match.”

“You know what they say,” Ben’s breath was warm against her ear as he reached for the hem of her top, “great minds think alike.”

Annabelle wrapped her arms around his neck and practically jumped into his waiting arms, laughing as he dropped her on the bed and plopped down over her, catching himself on his arms right before he crushed her under him.

“You are so fucking amazing,” he purred as he nuzzled his way down her neck, leaving soft kisses on the mounds of her breasts, “how are you so fucking amazing?”

“I, uh,” her fingers were grasping at his short, blond locks, right as his hand rubbed her clothed crotch, making her gasp, “hm?”

“Tell me when to stop?” his green eyes bore into her own.

###

“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Ben flicked his blinkers up, one hand chasing the other on the steering wheel as he took a turn around a street corner, “penny for your thoughts?”

“I just can’t get over how good this feels,” Annabelle sighed and smiled when Ben put his hand on her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, “and you really didn’t have to drive me to work.”

“I wanted to,” he shrugged.

“Ben, my car is still parked outside your building,” she interlaced her fingers with his, “it makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he glanced at her and then back at the road, “Jamie will drive you and Clara to the pub to meet us, and then you’re coming home with me.”

“Am I?” she chuckled, “very bold of you to assume I’d agree.”

“After last night?” he winked at her, making her blush, “I have a feeling you’ll come back for more,” he giggled, poking his tongue out, “we still have some unfinished business to take care of.”

“Always so cocky…” Annabelle mumbled and bit her bottom lip.

“You bring out the best in me,” he shrugged and smirked, “what can I say?”

“Sometimes you can just shut up and look pretty, you know,” Annabelle said as she gazed out of the passenger’s side window, earning a tighter squeeze on her thigh from Ben, “ow!”

###

“Okay, okay,” Rami placed his drink on the table at the pub and looked at Annabelle as she squirmed to fight off Gwil’s pokes at her ribs, “Annie, you’re the last one left - marry, fuck, kill. Go.”

The table went mildly silent as Annie gulped the drink she had in her mouth and bit the inside of her cheek as she pondered the question.

“Kill Jamie,” she said and Gwil threw his fists in the air mouthing yes, clearly pleased she didn’t pick him by default for being her cousin, “marry Ben,” she continued, “fuck Joe.”

“Oh, yeah?” Joe flashed a sly smile from his place right across the table from her.

“What?!” Ben’s head snapped to the side to look at Annie, almost spilling his drink.

“Interesting!” Rami leaned back, shooting a confused look at Annie and Ben who sat next to each other.

“Fuck Joe?” Ben slammed his glass on the table, “are you joking?”

“Are we all going to ignore the fact that she’ll kill me in a heartbeat?” Jamie’s eyes were wide, “Me? Her one true love? Her royal husband? Why? Why, Annie?”

“So, wait, are we talking a hump and dump situation or a reoccurring event here?” Joe leaned forward.

“Anyone wants another drink?” Gwil pointed randomly with both hands at Lucy, Clara, Jamie and Rami, “no?”

“Yes, please!” Ben seethed, “what do you mean, you really want to fuck Joe?”

“Ben,” Annie cupped his cheek in her hand, “it’s just a stupid game.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” both Ben and Joe said at the same time.

“It means nothing!” she looked from Ben to Joe, “it’s a game!”

“So you don’t want to fuck me?” Joe pouted.

“Does it really matter?” Annie laughed nervously.

“Oh, oh wow,” Rami looked at the three as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks, “Annie wants to fuck Joe!”

“Well, can you blame her?!” Joe smirked.

“It was a game!”

“I need a bloody smoke,” Ben’s knee was bouncing up and down under the table as he chewed on his fingernails before he got up abruptly, patting his pockets.

“Me too, actually,” Jamie said and got up, following Ben outside.

###

“Fuck!” Jamie growled at his lighter that wouldn’t do its’ one job, “Ben, got a light?”

“Yeah,” Ben exhaled a cloud of smoke and fished his lighter out of his pocket and threw it to Jamie, who caught it with one hand, lit his cigarette and threw it back to Ben.

They stood in awkward silence for a couple of minutes, Ben rubbing his thumb just above his eyebrows with the hand that held the cigarette between his fingers, looking down at the sidewalk outside of the pub.

“You alright?” Jamie broke the silence, kicking at a rock.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben shook his head as if to shake a thought out of his mind, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you’re fuming,” Jamie chuckled, “Annie’s choices got you riled up?”

“I’m not going to talk about this with you,” Ben said as he looked the other way from where Jamie was standing, “but thanks anyway.”

“What the fuck, man?” Jamie asked, and Ben looked at him and shrugged, “what’s your problem?”

“My problem?”

“You clearly have one,” Jamie nodded, “what is it?”

“Nothing, I’m sure you’re great,” Ben shrugged.

“Bullocks,” Jamie rolled his eyes, “you’re bothered because I dated her?”

“I really don’t care.”

“So, yeah,” Jamie took a long drag, “I’m not after her anymore, mate.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m serious. I love her, she’s one of my closest friends,” Jamie flicked the butt of his cigarette to get rid of some access ash, “but that’s that. We were horrible as a couple, we made each other miserable.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Ben replied monotonously.

“You make her happy,” Jamie shrugged, his words catching Ben’s attention, “and it shows.”

“Which is why she’s keen on fucking Joe?” Ben scoffed, “right.”

“What is the matter with you?” Jamie’s voice climbed in pitch, “seriously! It was a stupid game!”

“You don’t get it.”

“What? That she has great chemistry with your mate?” Jamie laughed, “yeah, I do. She has great chemistry with men. Deal with it.”

“I don’t care about the chemistry she has with men,” Ben sighed, “but there’s clearly something there. I’m not blind.”

“No, you’re not blind,” Jamie nodded slowly, pursing his lips, “but you are stupid.”

“Fuck off.”

“If she wanted Joe, she would have had him by now.”

“I know.”

“Did she?”

“No.”

“Then get the fuck over yourself and tell her exactly what you fucking want your relationship with her to be,” Jamie said, “there’s nothing Annabelle loves more than blurred lines.”

“What are you on about?”

“Ben, listen to me,” Jamie put both of his hands on Ben’s shoulders, “Annabelle loves blurred lines. It’s her comfort zone,” he huffed at Ben’s confused face, “it keeps her from getting hurt and lets her fuck around with anyone without hurting them because there were never any rules to the game.”

“Still not following you,” Ben furrowed his brows, “but okay?”

“She’s petrified of relationships for a damn good reason,” Jamie continued, “she might tell you what it is someday. But you’re different,” he poked a finger at Ben’s chest. “She might be a bitch, but the bitch cares about you more than any one of us would like to admit.”

“Well -”

“Shut up and listen,” Jamie cut him off, “you want her, yeah?” Ben nodded silently, “then you’d better tame that fucking beast, and you’d better do it fast.”

###

Ben and Jamie returned to the pub, unharmed, laughing at a shared joke between them. The entire group of friends fell silent at the drastic change in dynamics between the two.“What, you’re friends now?” Annabelle scoffed.

“Oh, Annie,” Jamie’s tone was teasing, “are you jealous?”

“I don’t like this,” Annie said with furrowed brows, looking at Gwilym as if he had any control over anything, “make it stop.”

“They’re big boys, Banana,” Gwil shrugged, “if they want to be friends now, they can be friends now.”

Ben and Joe sat on either side of Annabelle, causing everyone to take careful glances at the explosive trio. While Annie and Joe were deep in conversation, Ben kept using his body language to send one clear message across. Whether he leaned closer to her, put a hand on her thigh, wrapped an arm around the back of her seat or mindlessly twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, everyone seemed to pick up on the message quite easily.

Annabelle, however, wasn’t happy with this new change in dynamics and was adamant to get a rise out of Ben. Turning her back slightly to him, she focused most of her attention on Joe.

“I’d have you know,” Joe was starting to slur his words, “I’m a terrific dancer!”

“It’s true, actually,” Gwil nodded.

“He does have some sick moves,” Rami confirmed, making Joe bow his head in appreciation for the compliment.

“I won’t believe it till I see it,” Annie shrugged.

“You want me to show you?” Joe started to get up but was quickly pulled to sit back down by Jamie, “what, the girl needs proof!”

“Read the room, man!” Jamie laughed.

“The queen of England asked me to dance!”

“She’s not the queen just yet,” Jamie patted Joe’s head, “you’re good.”

“But -”

“No, Joe!” the entire group said in unison, causing Joe to pout like a petulant child.

“I promise,” Annie squeezed Joe’s shoulder to get his attention focused on her, “we will dance. I promise.”

###

“Ben, Ben,” Annie panted as his lips travelled down her jawline. His hands worked their way up her sides, pressing her body against the wall outside of his flat. “Can we take this inside now?”

“But I’m having so much fun,” Ben whined, a smug smirk on his face before her took her bottom lip between his teeth, nipping it gently.

“What’s gotten into you?” Annabelle’s eyes shot from his lips to his eyes, her breath catching a little when she saw hunger flash in them, “what did Jamie say to you out there?”

“Well, that did it,” Ben huffed and released her body, turning the key in the lock.

“Seriously,” Annie prodded on as they entered the flat, trying not to fall face-first to the floor as Frankie ran circles around their feet, “what did you two talk about? You were literally fuming and then you come back and -”

“Why are you so worried about what Jamie and I talked about?” he crouched down to hook Frankie’s leash to her collar and reached around Annie’s body to give her bum a light squeeze, “we’ll be back in a minute.”

With that, Ben and Frankie went out the door and off for a late-night walk, so Ben and Annie could sleep in. Annie crossed her arms and huffed at the closed door before she took off her red Converse low-tops. Muttering profanities to herself, she went to the kitchen to get a drink when her phone vibrated.

‘Is Ben giving you shit for wanting to fuck me, still?’ Joe was never one to beat around the bush.

'I honestly have no idea.' Annie replied, ‘did he say something to you?’

‘No.’

‘Did Jamie tell you all what he and Ben talked about?’

‘We didn’t ask.’

‘Seriously, Joe! The one night I need you to be a relentless gossip! You had one job!’

When no reply came, Annie placed her phone on the kitchen counter and turned to lean back on it, crossing a leg in front of the other. She sipped her water slowly and straightened up a little when she heard the front door open and close and the scratching of Frankie’s feet on the floor.

“I don’t like this new friendship you and Jamie have.” Annie announced when Ben walked into the kitchen and took the glass of water she placed on the counter for him.

“We’re not friends.”

“Then what the fuck happened tonight? One minute you hate his guts,” Annie’s voice rose in pitch, “the next you’re having a smoke together and no one comes back with a black eye?”

“He’s not all bad,” Ben shrugged, “and if anyone would have gotten a black eye tonight, it would have been Joe.”

“You’d never hit Joe.”

“Mentally, I would.”

“That makes no sense at all,” Annie chuckled.

“Neither do you,” Ben took her glass from her hand and placed it in the sink, “we’re good like that.”

“That, we are,” Annabelle murmured and smiled up at Ben as he trapped her against the counter, his arms on either side of her, “yes?”

“Hello.”

“Hi,” Annie giggled and leaned back when Ben leaned down to kiss her.

“Really?” Ben sighed and grabbed Annie’s cheeks with one hand, forcing her to face him and pressed a kiss to her lips.

###

“Please -”

“I have condoms,” Ben seemed to read Annabelle’s mind, “I told you, we had unfinished business to handle.”

“Oh, thank God,” Annabelle breathed, her chest heaving up and down as Ben’s lips covered every inch of her torso with wet kisses and gentle bites, “can you…?”

“Not yet,” his big, warm hands kneaded her breasts, “your tits are so big,” he murmured against her skin, “how can someone so small have such big tits?”

“Genetics?” Annabelle squeaked as Ben rolled her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers.

Ben sat back on his heels and parted Annabelle’s legs, a wide smile creeping up when he saw she had a wet spot on her lilac panties. Biting his lip, he reached down and placed his palm flat on top of it, rubbing her gently. The friction from the fabric and his hand made Annabelle buck into his palm, a deep flush rising on her cheeks.

“You’d better go get those condoms now, Ben.”

###

TAGLIST: @ramibaby-deactivated20190212​ @xgoingdownx​ @clara-who​ @violetpond​ @sweeterthancheese​ @drummerqueenrmt​ @westansstuff​ @rogerinamainbitch​ @justgivemethekeys​ @borhaprogerina​ @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47​ @rogerspoison​ 

[thegreatwhiteferret]

Welcome To New York

I Wanna Be Yours Series: Part III (Part I, Part II)

“Here we are in our New York apartment with a view…seems only right that we break it in. Don’t you think, Bill?” Richie suggested smoothly, and Bill nodded. 

“I t-think the p-perfect way w-would to make our girl c-cum so many t-times that she can’t e-even remember her own n-name or ours. W-would you like t-that, Baby Girl?” Bill asked and Bev groaned in anticipation, she knew that they would make good on their promise. 

“Fuck yes, let’s make this place really ours.” Her words were met with two wicked smiles from her boys. 

Pairing: Billverie (BillxBevxRichie)

Rating: Explicit

A/N: HERE IT IS EVERYONE! Billverie is back! @billbenbev and I decided that we just loved these three too much, and that we needed to expand the “I Wanna Be Yours” universe! As of right now, we have eight other connected one-shots planned for this series, and hope to get one out every week!!! (I say hope because y’all know that I’m a mess, and this one alone took me a week and a half to finish…) Who knows where we will go from there! Thank you to everyone who has supported Billverie and sent questions and words of love in for the OT3, we can’t wait to see it grow! Make sure you check out Lua’s blog to see Mood Boards and other Billverie content, like the awesome header she made for this fic! ❤️❤️❤️

NSFW Under the Cut…

“What time did Stan say that we were leaving again?” Richie asked as he attempted to drag four duffel bags full of his things behind him.

“He s-said to be at h-his house at f-four thirty.” Bill answered, groaning as he looked at the pile of Richie’s things that he was somehow supposed to fit and secure in the back of his truck. It wasn’t much, just a beat up silver pickup truck that Richie had affectionately named ‘Silver Two’, but Bill, Bev, and Richie had all pooled their savings from working over the summer in order to afford it. It was the first piece of their new life together.

“Is that seriously all you are bringing, William?” Richie gawked, staring at Bill’s lone foot trunk and duffel from the army surplus store two towns over. Bill rolled his eyes in response. “Fine, fine. All you need are your flannels, jorts, and baseball tees. Got it.”

“W-would you shut the f-fuck up about the j-jorts? I threw t-them all a-away after y-you made it known h-how much you h-hated them.” Bill tossed over his shoulder as he attempted to heft his trunk onto the bed of the truck by himself.

“Jesus, Bill, let me help. You’re not actually Captain America.” Richie muttered, grabbing one end of the trunk, they lifted it easily and Bill hopped up to move it into the right position. When he had, Richie began handing him the other bags, they still had to drive over to Bev’s Aunt Clara’s apartment to pick her up and all of her things, then they were heading over to the Uris house where the parents were throwing a small send off party. Well, some of the parents.

It was really Maggie Tozier and Andrea Uris who had put the whole thing together. Mike’s grandparents and Ben’s mom would be joining as well. Bev’s aunt had to work, so she would be saying goodbye at the apartment. Bill’s parents wouldn’t be attending of course, Bill hadn’t spoken to them in months, not since he had moved in with the Toziers in February. Then there was Sonia Kaspbrak. She had downright refused, threatening Eddie once again that if he left to be with his sinning siren of a boyfriend, that he would never be welcomed home again. Eddie had simply packed his bags and left, knowing that he had more of a family with the Losers than he had ever had with her. When Andrea had heard of this, she set up the guest room for Eddie and told him that he had a new home in Derry.

Bill secured the bungee cords over their luggage and hopped down from the truck, lifting the tailgate and slamming it closed, before rounding the truck and joining Richie in the cab. They took one last look at Richie’s childhood home, Bill’s adopted home too, and waved, before backing out of the driveway and heading down the street in the direction of Bev’s apartment. Richie hummed along to the song that was playing through the speakers. He turned his head to the side and watched Bill carefully.

“Hey, I love you, Denbrough. You know that right?” Richie asked sweetly, scooting closer to Bill across the bench seat. Bill raised his eyebrows a little in surprise before he let out a small chuckle and smiled.

“Y-yeah, I know. I l-love you too, Tozier.” He returned, and threw his right arm over Richie’s shoulders as he drove, leaning in slightly when Richie pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.

They made it to Bev’s in near record time, Richie snuggling himself into Bill’s side and singing along to the radio softly the whole time. Bil pulled ‘Silver Two’ up to the curb outside of the brick building and shut the engine off. Bev pulled the door open to the apartment before they could even knock.

“Well hot damn, two fine as hell gentleman callers standing at my chamber door. What ever is a lady to do?” She drawled in a fake southern accent, red lips curling into a sultry pout.

“Well my dear, I do declare, that you could invite said gentleman callers in.” Richie returned, matching her accent easily. He leaned forward and brushed a fallen curl out of her face.

“Seems most appropriate, Kind Sir.” She smirked, curtseying as Richie bowed and then walked into the apartment past her. She turned her attention to Bill who was rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he looked down at her through the messy locks of hair that always fell in front of his face. “Hey, Bill.” Bev said sweetly, dropping the accent.

“Hi, Bevvy.” He said with a small smile, taking her outstretched hand and following her into the apartment. Bev and Clara’s apartment was eccentric to say the least. It was really more of a studio than a full on living space, but that fit both of them better anyway. There was only one bedroom, and then a loft where Bev’s bed and things were all set up, the rest of the space was just one common room. Bev had all of her things ready and sitting by the couch.

“Ah, Bill and Bev, there you are.” Clara said with a wave of her hand, the bracelets on her wrist clinking together. “I was starting to think that you two had run off into the sunset together and left me here with Richie.” She said with a smile, and Richie scoffed faux insulted.

“Pssssssh. As if. They both love me too much.” Richie replied easily, there was still the smallest amount of doubt about that statement that lived inside of him and most likely always would, but today was a good day and he didn’t want to spoil it by bringing that up.

“Mhmm, you must be fantastic in bed because your personality is meh.” Clara responded, flicking his ear as she walked past him.

“CLARA!” Bev shrieked, and her aunt let out a wicked laugh. Clara had been the first person outside of the Losers Club that they had told about their relationship. It wasn’t at all intentional.

Clara was supposed to be working a double shift, and the three of them were eager to be able to spend some quality time alone. It had been about two weeks since they had returned from the road trip and they hadn’t been able to be intimate since then. Clara’s second shift had been filled by someone else and she came home to see Richie laying on his back completely naked while he gave Bill a blow job and Bev blew him.

Clara had handled it in stride, leaving them to finish before coming back and sitting them all down for a conversation. She was incredibly supportive, and had even gone as far to buy them a wholesale box of condoms and a giant bottle of lube. The three of them had been beyond horrified, but her overall acceptance led to them having the courage to tell Maggie and Wentworth about their relationship. They were skeptical at first, having just warmed up to the idea of Richie and Bill dating each other, but they tried their hardest to be open minded and they truly loved Bev already.

“Sorry, sorry. I have to get the jokes out while you are still here, Marshmallow. I’m covering my sadness with humour.” Clara said pouting slightly, and Bev’s face dropped to match hers. They pulled each other into a tight hug, rocking back and forth slightly. “I’m so proud of you, Munchkin. So proud of you for getting out of this town and following your dreams. You’re going to do great, kid.”

“Thanks, Clara.” Bev said between small sobs, tears running freely down her face. She didn’t have to look to know that Clara wasn’t doing much better. “Fuck, we promised that we wouldn’t do this! You’re coming to visit in a few weeks, we shouldn’t be crying. This should be happy.”

“You’re right.” Clara said pulling back, wiping the tears off of Bev’s face before tending to her own. “You are going to be so amazing, and I’ll see you soon. And you will call every week, if you need anything I will drive the five hours to you.” Clara told her and Bev nodded, pulling her in for another hug.

“I love you, Clara. Thank you for everything.” Bev said genuinely. She meant it too, with all her heart. She didn’t know what she would have done if Clara hadn’t come back to Derry to raise her.

“I love you too, Beverly.” She said before turning on her heel and staring down her niece’s boyfriends. They may have been at least a foot taller than her, but that didn’t make her any less intimidating. “Now you two knuckleheads. You take care of my girl, in that big city. Or I’ll kill you.” She warned and both boys gulped and nodded. “And take care of yourselves and each other too. I am so glad that you three found each other in this way.” She pulled the two boys into a hug and then motioned for Bev to join. They held on for a few minutes before they pulled back. Richie and Bill grabbed Bev’s things and made their way down the stairs and to the truck, leaving Bev alone to have a few more precious moments of farewells with her aunt.

“Bev p-packed lighter t-than you and she’s a g-girl, Richie!” Bill said exasperated, as he shifted Richie’s things around again to make room for Bev’s trunk and suitcases. It was proving to be far more difficult than he had planned.

“It takes a lot of work to look this good, William! Do you want me to age quickly and with a lack of grace? I think not.” Richie punctuated this sentiment by sticking his tongue out at Bill.

“I s-swear to God, if a-all that is in h-here is c-comic books and v-video games, I’m g-going to hurt y-you.” Bill groaned and hopped down from the truck. Richie pouted his lips, unable to argue further, and Bill rolled his eyes before pressing a soft kiss to Richie’s lips.

“Damn, look at those two hot guys kissing. What does a girl have to do to be lucky enough to be in a relationship with both of them? Oh, wait. I already am.” Bev laughed to herself and the boys both rolled their eyes affectionately at her antics.

“Come on, Marshmallow. Get in the truck. Stan probably already has his panties in a wad, and we don’t want to be late for that show.” Richie said as he open the door and motioned for her to climb in. She smacked a sloppy kiss onto his cheek as she climbed in and Richie slid in after her. “Hi ho Silver Two, away!!!” He screamed, tapping his hand on the door. Bill looked over at him with a scowl, but started the truck nonetheless and pulled off down the road.

-*-

“Could you be any less punctual? I’d expect this from the two of them but you, William, really?” Stan asked when they pulled into his driveway, there was a smirk threatening to peak through his stormy expression, and Richie jumped out of the truck and pulled him into a smothering hug.

“Staniel, my love, so glad to see you.” Richie said cheerfully as Bev and Bill moved to join them. “Is everyone else inside? You managed to get Mike’s car all packed up?”

“Yes, they are inside. Where you should have been…” He paused to glance down at his watch to get an accurate number. “Sixteen minutes ago.” He finished, prying Richie’s octopus like limbs off of him.

“I’m s-sorry, Stan. I had to r-re-re-arrange everything in the t-truck like twelve times.” Bill explained as they walked towards Stan’s front door. “Someone p-packed far too m-much.”

“I wonder who that was…” Stan snarked half heartedly as they reached everyone else. Eddie wore a similar expression to the one his boyfriend had been when they had pulled up.

“Do any of you own a watch?” He asked, blinking his eyes incredulously. Richie went to scoop him up in his arms, but Eddie stepped back with a warning glance. “I think that it is time that we discuss some boundaries since we will be living together.”

“O-or we c-could enjoy this l-lovely get together, and n-not start with the d-dramatics?” Bill suggested, and Eddie let out a huff of frustration. He wouldn’t dare challenge Bill’s words. Richie and Bev left them alone to go mingle and find Maggie and Wentworth. “T-thanks, Eds. We can t-talk about s-specifics when w-we get there.”

“Promise?” Eddie asked, holding up his pinky finger towards Bill and Bill let out a small laugh, before raising his pinky to hook with Eddie’s.

“Promise.” Bill replied with a smile. He slung his arm over Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him along with him as he went to find something sweet to eat. Maggie and Andrea had made quite a spread, everything displayed in plastic containers that they could snap the lid on and send off with the kids to take with them.

Bill couldn’t help but wonder if his parents even cared that he was heading so far away. If life had been more simple, less plagued with the Denbrough trauma, maybe they would be here.

“Hey, Baby.” Bev said, sliding up next to him and pulling his hand into her own. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” She asked sweetly, and Bill felt his walls breaking down.

“C-can we go s-somewhere else?” He asked softly, and Bev nodded, pulling him along with her until they were in the Uris’ sitting room. Bill sat down and Bev made herself comfortable in his lap, she looked up at him with her caring blue eyes, and Bill felt the tears he had been trying so hard to will away fill his eyes.

“Oh, Billy.” She cooed, and wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug. Bill buried his face in her hair, it smelled like coconut and it calmed him. She had been using the same brand of shampoo since they were in middle school, and it made him feel at home and grounded. Bev and Richie, and the other Losers, were his home now. He knew that he should accept that but he still hurt.

“W-why don’t they l-love me, Bev?” He choked out. Finally voicing what was swirling around in his brain. Bev pulled back slightly, bracing his face with her delicate hands.

“I don’t know, Bill. I wish I did, I wish I had the words to explain why people do terrible things. I’ve tried to understand for so long.” Bev trailed off slightly, trying to wipe some of her own tears away. “But, what I know is that those people don’t matter. You can choose your family, choose your own path.”

“I k-know.” He sighed, that was an easy concept to accept in theory, but when your own flesh and blood doesn’t want you…it burns. Bev frowned slightly and Bill felt like he needed to rush to clarify. “I j-just…I wish t-things were different. It’s not t-that you a-and Richie d-don’t show me e-enough love.”

“Of course not, Bill. I know what you mean.” She said pulling him into another hug and rocking him back and forth in a soothing motion. “It’s normal for you to crave their attention and love, that doesn’t mean that you’re broken and can’t accept our love. I understand.”

“T-thanks, Ginger Babe.” He sniffled, and Bev smiled at him brightly with the mention of his nickname for her. She brushed some of Bill’s hair out of his face in another soothing manner.

“One last thing before we join the party again…you’re our glue, Denbrough. I need you to know that. With the Losers Club. With our trio, we wouldn’t work without you. Without your kind heart and courageous soul. You make us all better.” She told him sincerely, and Bill could feel the warmth spreading through his chest.

He pressed his lips against Bev’s and she returned the kiss quickly, pouring her love and trust for him into the kiss. They pulled apart and rested their foreheads together.

“Well damn, now I know why you were missing from the party. Getting all warm and cozy in the Uris house and you didn’t bother to invite me!” Richie joked as he entered the room and sat down next to Bill. He picked up on Bill’s red rimmed eyes quickly and shot Bev a look to make sure that they were okay, she nodded at him subtly. “So, Stan wants us to leave in about fifteen. The moms are stocking our vehicles with food right now and then we are going to do our last hugs and goodbyes. Mom and Dad want to talk to you, Bill.” Richie told him and Bill seemed to straighten up a bit, nodding.

“Okay. W-we should go t-then and not keep t-them waiting.” Bill said, lifting Bev off of his lap easily and setting her back on her feet. Richie tilted Bill’s head back towards him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “W-what was that for?” Bill asked, quirking his eyebrow in confusion.

“Because I love you more than words, William.” Richie told him in a gentle voice that made butterflies erupt in Bill’s stomach. He then followed that sweet gesture up by slapping Bill’s ass and running out of the room before Bill could get back at him.

Bill found Maggie and Wentworth easily when he returned to the main room. He could tell that they had been waiting for him, and it made his nerves act up even more. They had done so much for him, and it worried him now that they wanted to talk to him alone like this. They waved him over, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked over to them.

“M-mr. and Mrs. Tozier.” He greeted them politely when he reached them, head still ducked a little.

“Bill, how many times do we have to tell you that it’s Maggie and Wentworth. You’re part of the family.” Maggie told him sincerely, resting her hand on his shoulder and Bill flushed a little. He nodded in understanding and she hummed in response.

“We want to make sure that you have everything you need for New York.” Wentworth cut in, and Bill lifted his eyes to meet his, asking for clarification. “You didn’t come to us with a whole lot, and you know as well as we do that Richie is taking way too much with him…”

“HEY! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BEING TOO PREPARED DADDY-O!” Richie called from where he was apparently eavesdropping a few feet away. All three of them whipped their heads towards him in slight disbelief that he would interrupt a private moment like that.

“Richard, you are not too old…Just butt out, Kid.” That seemed to be enough to deter Richie from listening in on their conversation or interrupting again. Wentworth took a deep breath to calm his nerves and to focus back on his conversation with Bill. “Like I was saying, Bill, Maggie and I want to send you off to school with a little something that will help you with your writing.” Maggie pulled a wrapped box off of a table behind her and held it out for Bill.

“W-what? No, you d-didn’t have to get m-me anything. You t-took me in…” He trailed off as Maggie gave him another warm smile and pressed the box into his hands. It was a bit heavy and he frowned at that. He set it down and worked on tearing the paper off. He felt tears well up in his eyes when he saw what it was. The words Apple PowerBook 540C were shocking to him. “Oh my God.” He breathed out.

“It’s a portable computer. You can type all of your stories out on it and then save them on disks. The gentleman at the store assured me that this would be perfect for you.” Maggie explained, and Bill set the box down carefully, pulling her into a hug as a few tears slipped down his face.

“T-thank you.” He breathed out and she held his shaking form tighter until he pulled back to give Wentworth a hug as well. “You g-guys are s-so amazing. I d-don’t know what I d-did to deserve y-you.” He told them, still in disbelief.

“You’re our son now, William. You don’t have to do anything to deserve what you need.” Wentworth told him, and Maggie nodded in agreement. Bill ducked his head again and scuffed the toe of his shoe across the carpet, his thoughts of his birth parents from earlier flooding his mind, and he realized how right Bev had been. Biology wasn’t what was important, it is actions that matter more. He took a deep breath.

“Uhm, I’ve w-wanted to ask y-you this f-for a l-little bit…” He started, and Maggie looked at him a little concerned, so he just steeled his nerves and continued. “W-would it be o-okay if I c-called you Mom a-and Dad?” He asked, his stutter increasing with his nerves in this stressful admission.  

“Oh Bill, of course!” Maggie clapped her hands over her mouth, tears of happiness making their way into her eyes. “I would love that, I really would.” She told him before pulling him into another hug. Wentworth patted him on the back, a look of pride in his own eyes.

“Well, Son, it looks like everyone else is packing up and saying their goodbyes, so let’s get you and this computer out into the truck.” He told him and Bill nodded, lifting the box and holding it to his chest. Richie was waiting for them by the front door.

“Damn, Billy. What do you have there?” Richie asked, eyes widening as he read the words on the box. “You bought him a computer? You wouldn’t even buy me a new walkman!” Richie squawked, and Bill rolled his eyes. He knew that Richie didn’t actually begrudge him, they both loved each other too much for that.

“Uh huh, and what exactly happened to your last walkman, Richard?” Wentworth asked and Richie’s snappy reply died in his throat.

“Alright, Father. I can not fight you on that point.” Richie conceded. “I’ll just have to borrow Bill’s.” He said.

“So t-that mine c-could meet a s-similar fate?” Bill asked with a raise of his eyebrows and Richie stuck his tongue out at him. Bill secured his new computer in the cab of his truck, helping Bev to climb up into the truck as well since she was holding a container of dozens of cookies, before he turned back to the Toziers.

“I guess it is time to say goodbye…” Richie started, and Bill could see that his cocky exterior was starting to melt away. He was going to miss his parents more than he could say. They hadn’t always understood him, but they had supported him. “Mom.” He croaked before pulling her into a hug. She held him close, and stroked up and down his back like she had when he was a child, though he was much taller now.

“T-thanks for e-ev-verything, Dad.” Bill said before holding his hand out for a shake like the men in his family had always done, but this was met with a slight eye roll as Wentworth pulled him into another hug. When they pulled back Richie shot him a look of question that also held pride and love, before they swapped parents for hugs. “I l-love you, Mom. T-thank you.” Bill told Maggie as she hugged him, with just the same warmth as she had hugged Richie with.

“I love you too, Bill. I love both of you boys so much.” She said pulling them both into a group hug. Wentworth let out a slight chuckle at the sight and quickly snapped a picture with his camera.

“Okay, okay. Time for you two to go.” He told them and they all nodded, pulling away from Maggie. “Now this isn’t forever, we will be coming down to the city in three weeks to see Bill’s first game, and you will be back here for Thanksgiving.” He told them, and they all knew that it was true, but that this was still a major step.

“You’re right.” Richie said with a smile, and they all headed over to the truck. Richie and Bill slid into their seats and buckled up.

“Bye, Bev. I wish you all of the luck, Sweetheart. You take care of our boys, they need a strong woman to guide them, and you my dear fit the bill.” Maggie said through the open window, and Bev smiled back at her in thanks. “You have a safe drive, and one of you call me when you get settled in tomorrow night. Let me know that you are safe and alive.”

“Of c-course, Mom.” Bill told her, liking the way that it rolled off of his tongue and the feeling of having parents who cared about him again. He backed carefully out of the driveway, waving at everyone one last time before they were on their way.

Bill followed Mike’s car, careful not to lose sight of it, as they headed out of Derry and towards their future.

-*-

“LAND! SOLID LAND!” Richie cried as he flung himself out of the truck and onto the pavement of the sidewalk outside of their apartment building. It was late, just after midnight, but they still had to get all of their things up to their apartment before they could park the vehicles in the garage and actually get some rest.

“Bev, b-baby it’s time to w-wake up. We’re h-here.” Bill said gently, trying to coax her out of her sleep. She had curled up between the two of them and fallen asleep with her head against Bill’s shoulder sometime while they were driving through Connecticut. Her eyes started fluttering open and she groaned as she came back to the world of the living. “T-there’s my s-sweet Ginger Babe.” Bill said with a smile, looking down at her fondly.

“Mmmm, Billy, What time is it?” She groaned, blinking a few times, before letting out a small yawn. Bill tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Just after m-midnight.” Bill told her and she nodded. She diverted her attention to where Richie was talking to Stan and Eddie in front of the truck. Mike, Vic, and Ben were already working on unloading what they could from Mike’s SUV.

“We should get to it then, get all of our things upstairs before we all collapse from sleep exhaustion.” Bev suggested, shooting Bill a wink. He nodded and they both slid out of the truck.

As a team they decided that Richie would stay down on the street to police the area and make sure that no one took their things or vehicles while they were upstairs. It was Stan’s idea and honestly the rest of them agreed. Sleep deprived Richie was even raunchier and more aggressively inappropriate than regular Richie. So they all decided for their sanity and the swiftness of their mission that the rest of them would just ferry all of the luggage upstairs.

They were split into two apartments right across the hall from each other on the top floor of the apartment building. The couples had been assigned to the two bedroom apartment while Mike, Ben, and Vic got the three bedroom apartment, glad to each have their own room and space.

“Holy shit.” Bev gasped as she opened the door to their apartment. It was even better than they could have imagined, and it was theirs. It was all brick interiors, with a staircase that led up to a balcony with rooftop access. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the apartment, and they both had their own bathrooms. There was a decent sized kitchen and eating area, that already had a table. It might be a tight fit with all eight of them, but Losers Club dinners were a must. There was also a big comfy couch and two chairs set up, they just needed to add a television. It had all the essentials, they just had to add the love, and there was no shortage of that with them.

“It’s perfect.” Eddie said from his spot beside her, and the two of them looked at each other and shared a smile.

“Alright, as happy as I love seeing you both, and you know that it truly thaws my cold heart, can we get everything inside the apartment so that we can sleep? Please?” Stan asked, cutting in as he set a few of his and Eddie’s bags on the floor.

“I a-agree with, Stan. B-bed sounds g-good.” Bill said with a yawn, and both Eddie and Bev melted a little at the sight of how cute it was. They nodded and quickly dropped off their loads before heading back down to the vehicles.

It was one thirty when all eight of them had finally managed to get all of their possessions into the building and Mike and Bill went to park their vehicles in their assigned spots under the building.

Bev and Richie made the bed while they waited for Bill, piling pillows and soft quilts and blankets on top of it just the way they liked. They had just finished when Bill walked into their bedroom and closed the door behind him.

“Come to bed, Baby.” Richie cooed, and Bill nearly flung himself into his arms. Richie held him close to his chest while Bev headed into the bathroom to change. She took her time brushing her teeth and washing her face. Enjoying the feeling of doing it in HER space for once. She slipped a nightie over her head and walked back into the bedroom.

“Aww.” She let out as she took in the sight in front of her. Bill and Richie were curled around each other, fast asleep in their bed. Bev wished that she had her camera readily available to capture the moment, but settled for the mental memory instead. She set the alarm clock for all three of them, they all had orientations in the morning that they had to be at no matter how late they had gotten to bed.

She pulled back the sheet to slide in, and pulled the blankets back over the boys and herself before snuggling right up to them. Richie threw his arm around her in his sleep and she smiled doing the same to him as Bill laid sandwiched in between them.

-*-

Bev took a look at the building in front of her. Parsons School of Design. She couldn’t believe it, fashion was her dream, it had been for so long and now she was so close. She walked towards the door, and was jared when a much larger body ran into hers.

“Ah fuck.” She let out as she landed against the pavement, the skin on the palms of her hands were scraped and she felt discombobulated.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” A voice was telling her, she looked up to see a man around her age, with slicked back brown hair and clothes that screamed that they were designer. He reached a hand down to help pull her to her feet, and Bev gratefully accepted.

“It’s totally fine, I should have been watching where I was going.” Bev nodded to him slightly, trying to smooth out her outfit and accessing the damage.

“Well, I should have been more focused on walking then staring at this pretty redhead that was in front of me.” The guy said with a smirk, and Bev quirked an eyebrow at him. Was this dude seriously hitting on her right now? “I’m Tom, Tom Rogan.” He said, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Beverly Marsh.” She supplied, shaking his hand. She could see that more people were heading inside the school now. “Well I should get going, I have orientation. It was nice meeting you.”

“Oh, you go here too. Awesome. Maybe we can sit together.” Tom suggested, already moving towards the steps of the building. Bev nodded and followed him into the building. She figured that there was no harm in sitting next to him for a little bit.

-*-

“Billlllllllllllllllll.” Richie groaned as they walked quickly across the NYU campus towards the building that was housing the beginning program for the welcome weekend orientation. They had gotten a bit of a late start, well in terms of Stan’s predetermined schedule, and now the seven of them were rushing to get to their seats and packets before the auditorium got too packed.

“Richie, you a-are not d-dying.” Bill told him again, as he grabbed his hand and pulled him along. Richie groaned again, but didn’t say anything more, trying to conserve his energy to actually breathe. He really needed to lay off the cigarettes.

“Oof, we are here!” Mike announced, a signature smile spreading across his face. “And we got some exercise in. Doesn’t that feel great, boys?” He asked and received groans from Richie and Vic.

“Yeah, we are definitely getting you two on workout regimes. You could always come on runs with Eddie and I in the mornings.” Ben said, patting Vic on his back from where he was hunched over and gasping for breath. “You’re a dance major…isn’t physical endurance a big part of that?” He asked and Vic flipped him off before righting himself and looking far more composed than he had seconds before.

“Let’s go ahead and head in.” Eddie said, ending the conversation before it turned into an argument and ending his boyfriend’s fidgeting beside him. They all nodded and followed him into the lobby, separating only to find the tables that housed their packets by alphabetical order, then joining back up as they found seats together in the semi crowded auditorium. They had only been sitting a few minutes, before Bill noticed that Richie was worrying at his lip and bouncing his leg.

“Babe, a-are you okay?” He asked, and Richie snapped out of his own thoughts, turning towards his boyfriend with a pouty look on his face.

“I miss Bev.” He let out, and Bill cocked his head to the side a bit at that admission. “I know, I know, that sounds stupid because we just saw her this morning, but…she won’t be going through this whole experience with us. She’s going to have her own experience. What if she realizes that we aren’t worth her time while she’s meeting all of those fancy designers…?” Richie frowned further at that thought.

“It’s g-going to be okay, Rich. Even h-here at NYU w-we will have d-different experiences. W-we won’t a-all be together.” Bill explained and Richie’s lip began to quiver at the thought. “No no no, t-that’s not w-what I meant, Richie.” He tried to sooth. But got an elbow in the ribs from Stan telling him to hush so that he could pay attention. Richie didn’t look like his mood was improving, so Bill’ grabbed his hand and rubbed circles over it with his thumb.

They had made it about an hour through the three hour presentation when Richie began squirming in his seat again, and Bill looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows. They had turned the lights down so that the main focus would be on the speaker on the stage, but Bill could see the unfortunately familiar look of sadness written across Richie’s features. He gulped and turned to Stan.

“Richie and I h-have to step o-out for a m-minute.” He whispered, and Stan looked at him concerned, before Bill shook his head. “Everything is f-fine, just t-take notes for m-me?” He asked and Stan nodded in affirmation that he would, Bill grabbed Richie’s hand, pulling him up as they both crouched and tried to exit the auditorium without disrupting too many people.

They made it out into the lobby but there were still too many people, so he kept tugging him down a long hallway until he found a men’s restroom. He checked under the stalls to make sure they were alone before turning on his heel to find Richie slumped over, leaning against the sinks.

“Okay, t-talk to me, Baby.” Bill said, smoothing his hands over his jeans as he approached Richie. Richie didn’t answer him, just stayed in the same position. “Richie, I c-can’t fix it if I d-don’t know what’s g-going on.” He tried again, and Richie finally lifted his head to look at him.

“Everything is moving so fast. My head is spinning.” Richie muttered, and Bill had to grab him before he slid down onto the questionable tiled floor. “What if everything changes? What if you and Bev get tired of me? You end up together, or you meet people in your majors and decide that you like them more? I’m an anxious mess because Bev is fifteen minutes away starting her life, why would you want to be with someone like that?” He finished, his eyes glazing over with tears.

“Hey, I’m n-not going to p-pretend to know w-what the future will h-hold, but I can t-tell you that we w-will always be t-together. I will n-never stop l-loving you or Bev. I’m in t-this for the l-long haul. You c-can ask Bev but I’m s-sure that she w-will say the s-same.” Bill told him, and Richie nodded but Bill could tell that his words hadn’t fully hit him yet. “Richie, Baby, w-what can I do t-to make you f-feel better?” Bill asked, resting his hands on Richie’s hips. Richie glazed over eyes suddenly had a wicked glint in them.

“Mmmm, you really want to know?” Richie asked with surprising clarity in his voice, and Bill groaned slightly.

“Richie, are you f-fuh-fucking serious right now? A m-minute ago you w-were in a d-depressive episode and n-now you’re horny?” Bill scoffed, stepping back to cross his arms over his chest and look at Richie.

“I’m sorry? You know that I can’t help it. Plus you telling me that you’ll always love me, that’s super sexy.” Richie reasoned and Bill rolled his eyes again.

“Confession of l-love equals h-hookup in b-bathroom? You d-do realize that w-we are m-missing the orientation p-presentation right now, right?” Bill asked and Richie had the decency to at least look somewhat ashamed.

“You’re really hot when you’re tired of my bullshit.” Richie muttered, leaning forward until he was in Bill’s space. Bill pinched the bridge of his nose trying to regain his composure.

“B-big stall, let’s g-go.” He instructed and Richie nearly squealed with excitement. Bill locked the stall door behind him and pushed Richie up against the tiled wall. “You are g-going to be s-super quiet? Understand?” He asked, and Richie nodded, miming that he was zipping his lips.

Bill sighed once more before dropping to his knees in front of Richie. Richie gasped at the implication, and tilted his head back so that it was resting against the wall. Bill undid the button of Richie’s ripped jeans and slid them down his legs just to mid thigh, he pushed Richie’s undershirt up his stomach and motioned for Richie to keep it up. Richie did as he was instructed to do and moved his neon printed hawaiian shirt out of the was as well.

Richie’s groin was still clothed in his gray boxer briefs and Richie groaned out a little in frustration. Bill pressed his index finger over his lips, warning Richie to be quiet, before he began mouthing the tip of Richie’s cock through the thin material. He pulled back after a moment and hummed in satisfaction at the wet spot that had formed where the tip of Richie’s swollen cock was poking through the briefs. Richie moaned at the loss of sensation.

Bill hooked his fingers in the elastic of the waistband and pulled it down slowly, until it joined Richie’s jeans. Richie’s cock sprang free, in all of its rock hard glory. Richie sighed in relief, but it got tangled with a choked out moan when Bill grasped the based of his cock in his hand, squeezing as he stroked up and down a few times.

“Fuck, Bill. Do it, Baby. Please.” Richie cried out, and Bill dropped his hand from Richie’s dick, warning him to be more quiet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet.” Richie whisper promised, and Bill grasped his cock again.

He let his breath ghost over the sensitive slit, and let let his tongue dip in, ever so slightly, collecting a pearly drop of precum on his tongue. He moaned quietly at the taste, and slid his lips down, only around the head and hollowed his cheeks out. Richie writhed at the sensation, biting his fist to keep him from making noise.

Bill let his tongue toy with the sensitive ridge under the head of Richie’s cock before sliding his mouth all the way down Richie’s shaft, until he could feel him pushing down his throat. He swallowed around Richie’s cock before pulling back and sliding down again. He repeated the motion over and over again, hollowing out his cheeks as he went, to make it tighter and more pleasurable for Richie. He reached his hand up to cup Richie’s balls, rolling them gently between his fingers.

He could feel how close Richie was getting now. Richie’s had one hand in a fist that he was biting, and his other hand was wound in Bill’s hair, urging him to take him deeper and faster. He let Richie slide further down his throat and stayed there, pressing his finger against Richie’s perineum, and then Richie was cumming in thick long ropes down Bill’s throat. Bill waited until he had swallowed all of Richie’s cum before he pulled off, and stood up. He felt slightly light headed and his neck felt stiff.

Richie pulled his boxers and jeans back up, as Bill moved his head back and forth, trying to pop his neck to get some relief. He stepped out of the stall and began washing his hands. Richie joined him as he cupped his hand and brought some of the water to his mouth, swishing it around before spitting it out. He repeated the action once more and checked his appearance in the mirror to make sure that he didn’t look obviously disheveled. When he deemed himself acceptable, he met Richie at the door and they headed back down the hallways through the lobby and into the auditorium.

“Are you fucking serious, Bill?” Stan asked in disgust when they had returned to their seats. He dug through his bag for something before offering a small metal container to Bill. “Oh my God, here take a mint. If you think that you’re getting my notes because you had to go get your boyfriend off you’ve got another thing coming. Absolutely ridiculous.”

When the presentation was over they were all split into tour groups based on the field of study that they would be entering. Richie was grateful that he got to spend the rest of the day in a group with Vic, happy to not be all by himself, but he couldn’t wait to be home with his loves again.

-*-

“BEV! You’re back! Thank God!” Richie screamed as she walked through the door of the apartment, he flung himself over the couch and ran to her grabbing her in his arms and swinging her through the air. She let out a little giggle, and smiled up at him when he put her back down.

“Glad to see me?” She asked him, and he nodded enthusiastically. She turned to Bill who shook his head and she knew there was more to this story. “Richie, you couldn’t have possibly missed me. We were apart for like six hours.” She told him as she moved towards their room so that she could kick off her heels and take off her bra. Bill and Richie followed her, closing their door behind them.

“Marshmallow, I missed you, give me snuggles.” Richie said with a pout as he flopped himself on their bed. Bev let out a snort as she turned to Bill again.

“Has he been like this all day long?” Bev asked, slipping her shirt over her head. She unclasped her bra and sighed in relief.

“Y-you have no i-idea, Babe.” Bill sighed, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face, and letting his hand grace her shoulder. “Richie m-missed you so much t-that he c-co-omplained the entire w-walk to campus, then f-freaked out during the p-presentation so that I would t-take him out of the a-au-uditorium, and then w-when I tried to get h-him to talk to me in the b-bathroom, he propositioned m-me and wouldn’t s-st-top pouting until I buh-blew him, all in the n-name of r-relieving his sadness.”

There was a silent pause for about ten seconds before Bev let out a howl of laughter and collapsed against Bill’s chest, laughing so hard that she couldn’t support herself. Bill helped Bev to the bed so that she could roll around on the mattress in hysterics. Bill couldn’t help laughing a bit at her reaction, it was a little ridiculous but charming in a way that only Bev could be. Richie sat on the bed pouting at his partners with his arms crossed as they laughed at him.

“Nice guys, I was really upset and you are laughing at me. Like it’s so absurd to be worried about our status now that our surroundings have changed!” He huffed and Bev stopped laughing at once.

“Richie, you have nothing to worry about. We are all still together, just because I’m going to a school a few miles down the road doesn’t change anything. Stop worrying so much.” Bev told him, running a hand through his unruly curls.

“But I can’t stop worrying because I loooooooooooove you. I love both of you and I want us to be together always.” Richie said, a tad petulant not unlike a child.

“Please, Rich. If anything you two will get tired of me.” Bev confessed, ducking her head slightly. Bill and Richie sucked in breathes at that admission, they thought that they had done a good job at making sure that Bev knew how they felt about her.

“Bev, w-we are never g-going to get tired of y-you.” Bill assured her, sitting down on the bed next to her. Richie nodded in agreement, but Bev still looked unsure. Richie and Bill looked at each other, they knew exactly how to make their girl feel loved.

“You don’t believe us when we tell you, Baby, so how about you let us show you? I mean, here we are in our New York apartment with a view…seems only right that we break it in. Don’t you think, Bill?“ Richie suggested smoothly, and Bill nodded.

“I t-think the p-perfect way w-would to make our girl c-cum so many t-times that she can’t e-even remember her own n-name or ours. W-would you like t-that, Baby Girl?” Bill asked and Bev groaned in anticipation, she knew that they would make good on their promise.

“Fuck yes, let’s make this place really ours.” Her words were met with two wicked smiles from her boys.

“Okay, Baby Girl, lay back.” Richie instructed.

Bev did as she was told, resting her head on their plush stack of pillows. Richie smiled down at her, pressing a heated kiss to her lips. Bill ran his fingertips lightly down the valley between her breasts, watching as goosebumps rose on her skin.

Bev did as she was told, resting her head on their plush stack of pillows. Richie smiled down at her, pressing a heated kiss to her lips. Bill ran his fingertips lightly down the valley between her breasts, watching as goosebumps rose on her skin.

“You k-know, Bev. There’s b-been something I’ve w-wanted to try…” Bill started and Bev groaned pulling away from her kiss with Richie to pay attention to what Bill was saying. “I heard t-that if you d-do it just r-right, you can m-make a girl cum j-just from playing w-with her nipples.” He said, mouth curling into a smirk.

“Fuuuuuuck, Billy. Please. I want to try.” Bev moaned, and Bill chuckled slightly. He pulled a small bottle of lavender massage oil out of the pocket of his duffle bag. Richie busied himself by starting to kiss and suck on Bev’s neck, just the way she liked it. Bev tried to focus as she watched “You really had that waiting in there? Is there lube and condoms in there too?” Bev teased with a quirk of her eyebrow. Bill rolled his eyes, of course he had those on hand as well, but that was beside the point.

“Do you w-want to sit here and b-be snarky or h-have me play with y-your nips until y-you are screaming o-out and creaming your p-panties?” Bill asked, and Bev’s eyes went wide, face begging him to please her. “That’s w-what I thought.” He said smugly, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Bill pulled back and drizzled some of the oil on the fingertips of his right hand rubbing them together to warm the oil slightly, before spreading some to his left hand as well. Bev moaned deeply as Richie began sucking just above her pulse point, driving her wild. Bill gently cupped Bev’s right breast and began massaging it lightly. Kneading the mound in his hand. He did the same with his left, both hands working her at the same time. He began lightly running the fingers of his right hand around her breast, tracing her areola and the curve underneath, but never her nipple, building the sensations and pleasure until her right nipple was hard and peaked. Bev arched her back off the bed. She was held mostly in place by Richie, who was still assaulting her neck.

“Ugh, fuck, Bill, please.” Bev moaned, and Bill knew that he had her in the perfect spot. He let his thumb run across her nipple ever so slightly and she nearly howled from the feeling. Bill smirked before dropping his head down and taking her erect nipple in his mouth and began sucking on it. He paid special attention to Bev’s breathing judging how wound up she was. He pulled back slightly and blew a cool breath over her wet nipple. “Ohhhh, ohhhh fuuuuuck.” Bev bit out. Bill began to squeeze her nipple as he moved to the other side, once again taking her sensitive bud in his mouth and suckling on it.

Bev had tears in her eyes. She couldn’t believe how close she was to toppling over the edge, she just needed a little more. She closed her eyes, letting the pleasure wash over her, and then Richie’s lips were gone from her neck and she felt wet mouths on both of her nipples, sucking and grazing their teeth over her sensitive peaks. She felt as if her core was vibrating, her pelvic muscles tensing, and then she was cumming. She let out a long moan, and Bill and Richie pressed soft kisses to her boobs before pulling away from the sensitive flesh.

Richie pulled Bill in for a hot kiss, hovering above Bev’s heaving chest. She watched as Richie’s tongue slipped into Bill’s mouth, and Bill tilted his head giving him more leverage. They pulled back after another few moments, breathing hard in each other’s faces, eyes clouded with lust. Richie turned his head to look at Bev.

“That was one, Baby Girl. Are you ready for another?” He asked, already moving down her body to work open the zipper on her skirt. Bill busied himself by pulling his own shirt over his head, wiping the remnants of the massage oil on it.

“Yes, please, Richie.” Bev moaned out before pulling Bill half on top of her so that she could ravage his lips with her own. Richie pulled Bev’s skirt off and let his fingers trace the lacey edge of her panties, before tugging those down her legs as well. He dropped them to the floor and Bev spread her legs wide for him.

Richie pressed light kisses down the insides of her thighs, tickling her sensitive skin with his fresh stubble. He made his way to her sweet center, pressing a kiss to her clit, and watched as her hips lifted off the bed, trying to follow his mouth. Richie wasted no more time and latched his mouth onto her clit, sucking the sensitive button of nerves in his mouth and flicking over it mercilessly with his tongue. Bev broke her kiss with Bill to let out another high pitched moan, hips bucking as he overworked her.

Richie didn’t let up, he kept up his brutal pace, balancing Bev just on the edge of painful and pleasurable. Her legs were shaking as they moved to close around his head. Bill pulled away from their kiss and moved down the bed, helping to hold her legs apart so Richie could continue. After another moment, Bev felt the spasms of orgasm take over her body for the second time, her pussy pulsing leaking more of her juices. Richie pulled off quickly, and then before she had even had time to breath, Bill was fucking into her pussy with his tongue.

Bev bucked her hips, as Bill lapped up all that her body would give him. He pulled back from her and blew a teasing breath over her clit, watching with fascination as it twitched in interest.

“That was two, Marshmallow, and Bill is about to pull out a third. How are you feeling, Darling?” Richie asked sweetly, checking in on their girl. Bev’s face and chest were flushed with arousal, her eyes clouded over with lust, giving into pleasure and how her body was aching for everything they would give her.

“You…you’re both…make me feel so good.” Bev gasped, trying to form words, but her brain couldn’t focus on anything but Bill’s tongue. “M-make me yours.” She cried out finally.

Bill let his tongue trace over her clit lightly. He stiffened his tongue and began to make determined movements. W. Bev’s hips twitched trying to get closer. I. Richie pressed a hot kiss to Bev’s mouth swallowing her moans. L. Bev’s brain started to connect what Bill was doing with his tongue, struggling to keep up. L. Bill traced another letter across her clit with the tip of his tongue. I. Bev could feel the coil tightening in her stomach again. A. Bill was tracing his name on her, staking his claim. M. The final letter marked Bev’s third orgasm, her swollen clit twitching as her muscles tightened again and again, contracting with release.

Bill immediately pulled back and plunged one finger into the hot heat of Beverly’s pussy, pumping in and out easily with how slick she was. He added another finger, and she squirmed with how oversensitive her body was.

“T-that was t-three. H-how are you d-doing, Babe. T-talk to me.” Bill let out, pumping hard and fast into her heat with his long fingers.

“Jesus fuck. Good. God, Bill.” Bev let out, and Bill nodded, thrusting a third finger in beside his other two and crooked his fingers, searching her inner walls for her spot. He knew that he had found it as soon as he saw her legs start to shake again, and he crooked his fingers once more and nailed the spot with pressure, pushing Bev over the edge and giving her her fourth orgasm of the evening. “Ahhhhhh. Holy.”

“What d-do you t-think, Rich?” Bill asked, pulling his fingers out of Bev and turning his attention to Richie. Richie hummed in response, to show that he was listening. “S-should we let h-her off the hook yet? She’s t-taken four so b-beautifully.” Richie seemed to think it over for a few seconds, watching Bev’s face before he shook his head.

“Nahhhhhhh. She can take more.” Richie let out, and Bill nodded in agreement. Bev moaned from her position on the bed at the thought of even more.

“H-hands and knees, Girlie.” Bill instructed, and Bev scrambled to do so. “Richie, y-you can go f-first.” Bill said, before obscenely licking Bev’s remaining juices from his fingers and pushing his pants and boxers down his legs, leaving him fully naked. Richie moved behind Bev, having already shed his clothing and slid a condom down his length while Bill was working on fingering her, and Bill positioned himself in front of Bev.

Bill pushed the tip of his cock against Bev’s lips, forcing it into her waiting mouth. As soon as she had taken him in, Richie was thrusting into her pussy from behind. Bev let out a scream like moan from the feeling as she tried to keep Bill in her mouth. Bill and Richie began to work in a coordinated rhythm, thrusting in at the same time on their respective ends of Bev so that they could share kisses.

Richie began thrusting harder and deeper in Bev, pulling her legs wider to get better access. The overstimulation of her body was becoming too much for Bev, she could feel every stroke as her body throbbed. Desperate for release and rest at the same time. Richie pumped in three more times before Bev’s whole body shook and she was cumming for the fifth time. Bill pulled out of her mouth and braced her so that she didn’t fall face first into the mattress.

“Y-you’re okay, Princess. We’ve g-got you.” Bill soothed her, as she buried her face in his shoulder. Richie pulled Bev up, and pressed sweet kisses to her face and neck. Bill laid down flat on the bed, sliding a condom down over his length before beginning to stroke his hard cock lazily as he watched Richie comfort Bev.

“Okay, Bev, you’re going to sit on Bill’s fat cock now, you’re going to make him feel really good, Baby Girl. You’ve done five already, I think you can handle a few more.” Bev’s eyes went wide at the suggestion.

“I don’t…I can’t…it’s too much.” Bev sobbed out, and Bill sat up immeadiatley looking worried that they had overdone it, asked too much of her body. He rubbed his thumb over her cheeks, looking into her pretty blue eyes.

“We c-can be d-done now, Baby.” Bill assured, always putting Bev’s needs and comfort above his, like he should. Bev shook her head slightly, and Bill cocked his eyebrow at her in confusion. “W-what’s your color, Princess?” He asked. Bev took a deep breath.

“Green. Lay back, Billy. I’m good, I want to make you feel good.” Bev said, and Bill still looked unsure, but did what she asked him to. Richie helped her get into position, lifting her up so that she could straddle Bill. He held his cock in position so that Bev could slide down on it with a loud moan. “Fuuuuuuuck, you’re so big, Bill.” She let out, and Bill smiled brightly up at her. Richie rolled his eyes slightly and Bill’s reaction, he didn’t need any more fuel to the ‘Big Bill’ debate.

Richie sat behind Bev, straddling Bill’s legs and placed his hands on her hips, helping her move up and down in rhythm as she rode him. Lifting her up so that she could drop back down on his thick cock. Bev could feel his pubic bone rub against her raw clit ever time she slid down, she ground into it with more determination, feeling like her body was on fire. The stimulation had her cumming again in no time, crying out as her body contracted and squeezed around Bill.

Richie kept one arm around her, forcing her to continue riding Bill. Bev did so easily, taking deep breaths as she braced herself with one hand holding Richie’s arm where it was supporting her, and the other resting on Bill’s chest.

Bill lifted one of his hands to lace his fingers with Bev’s, letting it stay rested on his chest. With his other hand he traced over her left nipple slightly, tweaking the bud between his index finger and thumb. Beverly moaned out at the feeling.

Richie pressed a kiss to her shoulder before he pulled back from her. His hands made their way to her ass, pulling her cheeks apart and watching Bill’s cock disappear into her pussy over and over again. Richie squeezed some lube onto his fingers, making sure that three of them were coated nicely. He began to circle her second hole with his lubed up index finger, and Bev let out a long whine. He eased his first finger in to the knuckle, careful to let her get used to the feeling of being plugged in both holes before he pulled his finger out slightly and thrusted back in with more ease.

Bev’s thighs were shaking again, her chest heaving in exhaustion, clinging to Bill like he was her only lifeline. Richie started thrusting his finger in a bit more freely, pushing deeper inside of her with his long fingers. Bev was overwhelmed by the feeling of being so full and her body released once again, cumming on Bill’s cock for the second time in ten minutes. Bev fell forward, truly exhausted, but still impaled on Bill’s cock with Richie’s finger in her ass.

Bill wound his arms around her, staying very still, and cradling her to his chest. He began running his fingers through her pretty red curls, whispering sweet nothings to her. Bev buried her face into the crook of Bill’s neck, enjoying the sweet intimacy of it, while he was still hard inside of her and Richie was thrusting two fingers in and out of her, preparing her ass to take his cock. On one thrust she scrunched up her face and whimpered from the sensitivity, Bill turned his head to look at her, making sure that she was okay.

“I’m okay, Billy…it’s a lot, but I’m okay…I promise.” She whispered, looking into his concerned blue eyes. “I would…I would tell you if it was too much.” She promised again and Bill nodded, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

Richie hummed in satisfaction at how stretched Bev was, and pulled back, coating his bare cock with a generous amount of lube. He moved back into position, running a soothing hand down Beverly’s spine.

“Are you ready to take me now, Bev?” He asked, and Bev nodded towards him before clinging tighter to Bill. Richie placed the head of his cock against her second hole, letting the head stretch the gaping muscle even more before he began to push in slowly. “Ah ahhh ahhhhh.” Bev cried into Bill’s neck. Her body overworked and tired.

“You’re o-okay, Princess. I’ve g-got you. You’re okay.” Bill told her over and over again, staying calm and still within her, letting Richie thrust in and out of her ass slowly and do most of the work. Bev pulled back slightly, resting her hands on Bill’s shoulders and trying to adjust her hips to be more comfortable. Bill rubbed his thumb gently over her nipple, her tits plump and swollen with her arousal. He dropped his thumb down between her legs, rubbing circles over her swollen clit. He eased her towards the edge again, and Bev barely felt herself tightening around Bill and Richie’s cocks while another orgasm burned through her body, her entire being shaking and muscles taught.

“Come on baby, we are so close, you can give us one more right?” Richie asked, pulling Bev up to hold her tight to his chest, helping her bounce up and down on their cocks. Bev nodded, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, overcome by the pleasure of being taken apart so many times by her boys.

Richie thrusted in and out of her a few more times before he was pumping his creamy load deep in her ass. He pulled out only as his aftershocks ceased, allowing Bill to begin thrusting up into her, far more gently now, constantly checking in for her comfort. Then Richie’s tongue was at her hole, licking his cum up as it began to drip out of her spent and gaping hole. Bev screamed out at the sensation, clenching around Bill and cumming for the ninth time. In the process of reaching her climax, she pulled Bill’s orgasm out of him as well. The two of them stayed still, trying to control their breathing as Bill released his full load into the condom.

Bill lifted Bev off of his softening cock and eased her onto her back. She laid boneless and open on the bed, and Richie stroked her forehead sweetly as Bill stepped into the bathroom to grab a washcloth and dispose of his condom. Her body was flushed and weak with the force of nine orgasms having pulsed through her body.

Bill returned, easing her thighs apart so that he could clean her up. Richie joined him, and they both pressed sweet kisses to her inner thighs, taking in the sight of her two gaping hole and swollen red clit. Richie couldn’t resist, he leaned forward and licked a stripe up her abused pussy and clit, causing Bev’s thighs to spasm. Bill leaned forward as well and blew a cool breath across her clit, the simple action causing her pussy to clench once more and release with her tenth orgasm of the night.

“If you try to do that again, I will kill you. That’s enough.” Bev mumbled, burying her face deeper in the pile of pillows. Richie chuckled a little, but lifted himself to lay beside her and hold her in his arms. Bill cleaned her up carefully, wary of how sore and sensitive she was. He tossed the rag on the floor and joined the two of them on her other side, pulling their blankets over them.

Bev sighed at the feeling of being held close and sandwiched between her boys. Bill and Richie pressed soft and sweet kisses to her neck, cheeks, and head.

“You did so good for us, Bevvy. Absolutely amazing. Look how strong and beautiful you are.” Richie whispered into her hair, in awe of how special their girl was. “We love you so much, Baby Girl. So so much.” Bill hummed in agreement before he tensed slightly.

“F-fuck. I forgot to c-call Mom and Dad.” He said, looking over at Richie who just rolled his eyes at him.

“We just made our Princess fall apart ten times and you are thinking of our parents…Jesus Christ, William. I am disappointed. Just call them in the morning.” Richie muttered and Bill went to snark but was cut off by Bev.

“If they are both of your parents now,” She started but paused to let out a yawn. “Does that mean that I just got fucked by brothers?” She asked, a bit deliriously with a smirk evident in her tone. Bill groaned at the thought, but Richie let out a snort.

“I think it’s best that we just go to sleep and don’t think about that too much.” He said, wrinkling his nose slightly. Bev and Bill nodded in agreement, letting their eyes close and drifted into sleep. Richie watched them for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful looks on their faces before he laid back and let sleep take him as well.

[pengychan]

[Coco] Down to Dust, Pt. 4

Title: Down to Dust Summary: Months after it all came crashing down, Ernesto’s to-do list is short: stay hidden, and wait for the Final Death. Héctor’s is even shorter: enjoy being with his family again. But life - or rather, the living - will get in the way even of the simplest plans. Characters: Hector Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, the Rivera family in general, Miguel Rivera, Socorro Rivera.

[Part 1 can be found here. All parts up so far here.]

(Quick thanks to @miguelcocofangirl for helping me out with some Spanish questions I had! If I don’t fuck it up too badly throughout the fic, that’s who you’ve got to thank.)

***

“I’m telling you I have a bad feeling about today.”

Three tiny heads tilted on one side as his alebrijes stared at him, sitting on the mattress they all slept on, eyes following him as he paced back and forth across the shack. Of course they didn’t reply, but that changed little. It wasn’t like there was anybody else Ernesto could have a conversation with - there hadn’t been in years - and so they would have to do.

And yes, I am very much aware that I’m losing it, thank you ever so much.

One alebrije yapped, and he sighed. “I know, I know, I always say that,” he muttered, running a hand through this hair. “I have a bad feeling every single Día de los Muertos. So sue me. This time it’s a very bad feeling.”

More head tilts, a soft whine, and Ernesto scoffed. “I don’t know! Shouldn’t you know? Some spirit guides you are!” he snapped, then he let out a sigh and let himself fall back on a chair. It creaked slightly in protest - one of those days it would just give in under his weight, he was sure of it - but held up. Ernesto reached for the bottle on the table, but he paused and let his hand fall instead. It was his last bottle and the night had barely started; if he drank now, the effects would wear off too quickly. He suspected he would want a drink or two or twenty before it was over, especially when the fireworks began.

He could no longer stand the sight, or even the sound, of those celebrations. He would stay in the shack, like he had the previous year and the one before that, trying to shut out all of the lights and noise and think of nothing.

I never understood what my old man kept looking for at the bottom of a bottle, but do I now, friends and neighbours? Yes, I believe I do. I didn’t fall as far from the tree as I thought I had.

Ernesto’s gaze fell on his hand, and he clenched it in a fist. His bones were still snowy white and strong as they’d always been, his joints in perfect working order. No sign of yellowing, no sign of weakening… no sign he was one year closer to being forgotten.

Scratch all that. I need a drink now.

He reached for the bottle, but before his fingers touched it his gaze fell on his alebrijes again, and his hand froze in mid-air. He stared at the three tiny dogs for a moment before he blinked a couple of times and looked again. No, his eyes were not tricking him: there were only Lobo, Clara and Zita looking back at him, with Diablo nowhere to be seen. Realization sank in like a stone in water, and his hand fell on the table.

One of his alebrijes was missing.

***

The Department of Family Reunions was about as busy as Miguel remembered it, but they were able to get a clerk to hear them out almost right away. It wasn’t the same one as the previous time, though, and Miguel didn’t like his attitude much. He looked half-bored, half-annoyed, and entirely unimpressed with the situation at hand.

“What you’re saying is, you stole from a grave.”

“I didn’t mean to steal it!” Socorro protested, and this time she was starting to sound angry. It looked like the shock of it all - of finding out that the Land of the Dead was real, and that Miguel had been there before - was finally wearing off. “I just…”

“Took it from a grave and ran off?”

“Yes, but I–!”

“Oh, give the niña a break!” Héctor snapped, crossing his arms. “Can you find out if someone has crossed over, or are you here just to keep that chair nice and warm? Huh?”

The clerk shot him an annoyed glance, but then he caught sight of Imelda’s scowl, and cleared his throat before looking back at his computer. “I can do that, of course. The deceased’s name again?”

“Ezequiel,” Socorro replied. “Ezequiel del Rio. Can I really see him?”

“Well, you better hope so,” the clerk muttered, and began typing away on his keyboard. He stared at the screen for a few moments, then he blinked, rearing back. “Well, I’ll be! It’s that boy!” he exclaimed, and reached to press a button on his desk before any of them could say anything. “Elvira? There are some people here to see case file 24601. No, no, not his family, but… can you take him here as soon as possible?”

Miguel blinked. “Case file?” he repeated. “What’s going on?”

The clerk leaned back on his seat, folding his hands together. “Well, when children come to the other side, of course we need to reunite them with their family here in the Land of the Dead. Someone to look after them. There usually is at least someone, but in this case we could find no one.”

“No one?” Rosita exclaimed, horror plain in her voice. Beside her, both twins had brought a hand up to their mouths. To each other’s mouth, really. “No one at all?”

“No. Any dead relative of his we could trace were forgotten. Gone,” he added with a vague gesture of his hand.

The mere idea - winding up dead as a child, and with no one to look after you in the afterlife - caused a peculiar sense of dread to settle in the pit of Miguel’s stomach. It occurred to him that he knew next to nothing of Ezequiel’s family history; only that he’d been left in foster care by his mother when he was only two or three, after his grandmother had refused to take him in. Word was that his mother had been a part-time drug dealer as well as a full-time user, though Miguel had no idea how much of it was true. Had she forgotten her dead the way she had left behind her son?

No family in life, and no family in death. How can it be?

“As the boy is on his own, we couldn’t simply let him go his way,” the clerk was going on. “I mean, he doesn’t talk to boot! He’s been staying with one of our case workers, and until we figure something out–”

“But he’s got me!” Socorro exclaimed. She grasped the edge of the desk and glared up at the clerk as though challenging him to say otherwise. “He’s got us! Abuelita said we would be his family! His picture is in our ofrenda and all!”

“Why, Socorro is right!” Tía Victoria said, straightening her glasses. “His photo is on our family’s ofrenda.”

Miguel nodded. “Oh, yes! That’s got to count for something!”

“We can’t leave him all alone,” Tía Rosita added.

“It would be just dreadful,” Tío Felipe said.

“Barbaric,” his twin agreed.

“And if my daughter said he’s part of the family, then he is,” Mamá Coco added, causing Héctor to put a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s right! Can’t argue with that,” he said, and turned to glance at Mamá Imelda with a grin. “What does the head of the family say?”

Imelda met his gaze with a raised eyebrow before letting her eyes wander on the entire family. Miguel grinned at her, and she sighed. “The head of the family suspects that the decision has already been made,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Very well. If the boy is willing, he can come stay with us.”

“Yes!” Socorro exclaimed, and launched herself at her to hug her legs. “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank–”

A knock on the door caused her to trail off, and Miguel turned to see the door opening, revealing a case worker… and, right behind her, there was Ezequiel.

He looked different than last time he’d seen him, of course, but Miguel could see the boy’s face in that skull. His dimples were gone for good, but now there were markings of pale blue and silver across his cheekbones and brow. His eyes were still the same, as well as the head full of thick black hair… and if there were any doubt left, the clothes he’d died in and the whiteboard clipped at his belt would have dashed them away. That was Ezequiel all right - not quite in the flesh, but him all the same. Miguel could tell right away and, after a moment of silent shock, so could Socorro.

“CHEQUE!”

Her cry was almost deafening in the small room, but Miguel didn’t care at all. He could only give a large, probably rather dumb-looking smile when his little sister threw herself at her friend, almost making him topple backwards. He caught himself on time, though, and clung right back to Socorro in a tight hug. He didn’t make a noise, but Socorro made enough for both of them.

“Oh, I thought I was never going to see you again! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, it was all my fault!”

That caused Cheque to blink and pull back in clear confusion, which turned into something slightly closer to panic when he saw Socorro was crying. He immediately shook his head and reached for his whiteboard. IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT, he wrote, and Socorro sniffled.

“But if I hadn’t told you to stay, you–” she began, only to trail off when Cheque frantically shook his head. He seemed about to write again, then he put the whiteboard away and snatched a clicker pen from the closest desk instead.

“Hey! That is office property!” the clerk tried to protest, but absolutely no one paid him any mind - least of all Cheque, who began clicking the pen like a gun machine. That caused Tía Victoria to blink.

“What is he doing?” she asked, and Miguel shrugged.

“Morse code, I guess,” he replied. “Or something they made up that is close enough to it. He and Socorro use it to copy off each other in class.”

“Hey, now that’s clever! Way to go, kids,” Héctor exclaimed, only to pause when both Mamá Imelda and Tía Victoria turned to give him an unimpressed look. He gave a tentative grin. “I mean… don’t do that? Bad, bad kids?” he tried, and Miguel had to hold back a snicker. Beside him one of the twins muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘still rather ingenious’, but he turned his attention back on Cheque on Socorro instead.

“… And the whole town was there! Or at least, Miguel told me it was. I… I was too upset to go,” she added, and Cheque rapidly clicked the pen in response. Miguel couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it did get Socorro to smile a bit before she frowned. “Did it… did it hurt to die?” she asked, and her relief was palpable when Cheque shook his head.

To be honest, Miguel was relieved himself. “You’re looking good, chamaco. Those are some cool markings you’ve got,” he said, crouching down, and Cheque turned his attention on him for the first time. He smiled at him before he frowned, and quickly wrote on the whiteboard, the pen disappearing into his pocket.

HOW DID YOU GET HERE? YOU’RE NOT DEAD, RIGHT?

Miguel shook his head. “No, we’re not. Long story short, we were visiting your grave and… Socorro took something. To remember you by. But it’s kind of a no-no on Día de los Muertos, and Socorro will need your blessing to go home. It happened to me before, but my family–”

“Oh! Our family!” Socorro exclaimed, and immediately grasped Cheque’s arm to drag him past Miguel, and in front of the rest of the Riveras. Cheque looked up, clearly intimidated, but Socorro kept talking. She introduced each of them, and they all smiled when their name was spoken, which seemed to make the boy less nervous.

“… And Papá Julio, too, but he stayed at home in case you went there. We put up your picture! You’re one of the family now! Right, Papá Héctor?”

Cheque turned to look at him, clearly taken aback but suddenly looking so hopeful it almost hurt. It must have been terrifying, Miguel thought, waking up dead at that age and with no one to welcome him on the other side… and if anybody could understand, that was Héctor.

“That’s right. We’ll look after you from now on, if you’re okay with it,” he said, crouching down. “Once you give Socorro the blessing to go home, you can stay with us and we’ll wait for these flesh bags to come join us on the fun side. I guess there will be some bureaucracy to go through but hey, we can deal with that. What do you say, muchacho?”

Cheque blinked up at him a couple of times, still incredulous, and his gaze wandered on the rest of the family before he smiled back and reached for the whiteboard. DEAL, he wrote, and then he looked at Mamá Imelda - funny how he could guess that she had the final word there - and added: THANK YOU.

She smiled back. “It’s settled, then.”

“We’ll teach you all we know about shoes!”

“And about turning your arms into offensive weapons!”

“Is that one strictly necessary?”

“Well, you never know when it may come in handy.”

“Aww, you’re so cute! Let me hug you!”

“Let’s give the child a moment to process,” Mamá Coco said quickly, moving Cheque away from Tía Rosita’s grasping hands. “After all, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know him. Little Socorro can’t stay for long. Give them some time before he gives her his blessing to go home and–”

“Well, that will be interesting.”

The clerk’s remark caused everybody to turn back to him, and Miguel to frown. He didn’t like the tone he’d just used, didn’t like it at all. “What do you mean?”

A shrug. “Oh, you’ll see in a moment. She needs his blessing, yes? Very well. Here’s the marigold petal,” he said, picking one from a vase by his desk and holding it out to Cheque. “Take it, and hold it up. Yes, like that. Now, you look at the living and… your name?”

“Socorro.”

“Very well. Say: ‘Socorro, I give you my blessing to go home’,” the clerk finished, and Cheque looked at him with wide eyes, utterly lost, causing him to sigh. “Just as I expected. I am amazed none of you thought of it,” he added, looking at the family in front of him. Most of them could only stare, speechless. Tía Rosita brought both hands to her mouth, and Socorro stared at the petal in clear horror. Miguel opened his own mouth to say something, but he found he couldn’t do it: the implications of what he had just witnessed were too great for him to process right away.

He can’t talk. If he can’t talk, he can’t give a blessing.

For a moment, the room seemed to swim in front of his eyes; never in his life he’d felt so close to fainting. Then Mamá Imelda spoke up, and he clung to her words.

“There must be another way,” she snapped. “Writing the blessing should do as well–”

“No writing. No clicking. Nothing but bestowing the blessing aloud will work,” the clerk replied. “These are the rules.”

“And can’t you make an exception?” Héctor tried, gaining himself an unimpressed look.

“Señor Rivera, if the laws of life and death were mine to decide, I would not be here on a desk job,” the clerk replied, and looked down at Cheque. “He needs to try harder,” he added, causing Cheque to wince. “What do you say, boy? Have you had enough of this charade?”

Wait. Charade? What was he talking about?

“It’s not a charade,” Socorro protested, outrage snapping her out of her white-faced horror. “Ezequiel can’t–”

“Don’t you want your friend to go home?” the clerk was pressing on, eyes fixed on Cheque - who, on the other hand, had dropped the petal as though it had caught fire in his skeletal hand. “What are you trying to do? Keep her here with you?”

“Stop that! It’s not his fault!” Socorro snapped, kicking the desk. “He can’t talk! He had surgery that went wrong when he was little and his vocal cords don’t wor–”

“That’s not it,” the clerk replied, sounding so sure of himself that Socorro trailed off. “Either he lied then, or he’s lying now. Do you see any vocal chords there? Does he have any now?”

“Well, no, but–”

“Such physical limitations do not carry over to the Land of the Dead, especially if they affect soft tissues,” he went on, like he was stating the tenets of the universe. “If that’s the reason why your friend was unable to speak in the Land of the Living, then he should be able to talk now. He doesn’t want to speak, is all. Not even to save you, it see–”

“Hey! Enough!” Miguel snapped at him, but something not too far away from dread was already gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Socorro stepped back, clearly confused, and turned to look at Ezequiel - who, on the other hand, was staring at all of them with the wide-eyed gaze of a hare caught in the headlights.

There’s a block there somewhere. It’s not his fault, Miguel thought, but that did little to help, with the terrifying reality dawning in: unless he managed to talk Socorro would have no blessing and, come dawn, she would be trapped in the Land of the Dead.

“Cheque?” Socorro called out, her voice thin. “That’s not true, is it? It was surgery gone wrong. You told me your vocal cords were damaged. Did you… was that a lie? Or is it true and you’re just… are you… can you speak now?”

Ezequiel took a step back, shaking his head. He opened his mouth again, and it looked like he was straining to talk, but nothing came out. Not one sound.

But he is a good actor, he always was. What if he can talk now, after all? What if he really wants to keep Socorro here?

The thought chilled Miguel to the bone, and he desperately tried to shake off the idea. No, he thought, it couldn’t be. He would never. Socorro was his best friend, and–

And Héctor was my best friend, de la Cruz’s voice echoed somewhere in the back of his mind, and for a moment Miguel forgot how to breathe. He heard his little sister speaking as though from very far away, heard the same doubt in the shaking voice.

“Cheque, please!” Socorro pleaded, taking a step towards her friend. “If it’s something I did– I am so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to die, I– I just want to go home! I wish you could come with me, if I could bring you back, I would! Please, say something! Anything! Cheque…!”

Ezequiel’s back hit the door, and he kept shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut. His ribcage rose and fell in quick sharp breaths, if one could still call it breathing with no lungs involved; had he been alive, Miguel would have thought he was one step away from hyperventilating.

I can’t, he mouthed, and turned suddenly, reaching for the door knob.

“Hey! Someone stop him!”

“Cheque! No!”

Miguel leaped forward, but it was too late: Ezequiel had thrown the door open and the next moment he was outside, running down flights of stairs and then in the streets.

“Cheque! Come back!”

He was the fastest of the class, Socorro had said only a few days earlier, and Miguel was dismayed to realize she hadn’t been exaggerating at all: the boy was fast as a bullet and nimble,  too, weaving through the crowd of people walking outside without slowing down at all. It didn’t seem to matter that Miguel’s legs were much longer: he couldn’t catch up, and it was with a growing sense of helplessness that he watched him disappear in a side street.

“EZEQUIEL!”

When Miguel followed, he was already gone; there were several other streets and alleys he could have ran into, and he picked one out of despair, then another and another - until he found himself at a dead end, and skidded to a halt just on time to avoid slamming into a wall.

No, no, no, no, no!

Miguel turned to go back, to take another turn, but he hardly had enough to time take a step.

“Whoa!”

Something - no, someone - slammed into him, throwing him on the ground. There was a clattering sound of falling bones, and Miguel sat up with a groan to see a very familiar skull on the ground between his feet.

“Sorry, chamaco,” Héctor said. “I think we lost him.”

***

I’m lost.

The thought may have made Ezequiel panic, if he weren’t too tired to even do that. By the time he stopped running in an empty alley he found his knees could no longer support him, and let himself sink against a wall. He hugged his knees and shut his eyes, but even so he kept seeing Socorro’s horrified face, and he kept hearing the accusations thrown at him.

He doesn’t want to speak, is all. What are you trying to do? Keep her here with you?

Stop that! It’s not his fault!

Except that maybe it was, because if he’d wanted to help her - really wanted to help her - then maybe he could have managed to speak. Could it be that deep down he just didn’t want her to leave him behind? What kind of friend was he? She’d come to the Land of the Dead to find him, and he couldn’t even do that one thing for her.

Please, say something! Anything!

I can’t, he’d wanted to say, but of course he couldn’t say anything at all. Things happened when he tried to force his voice out: his throat would close up as though someone was strangling him, and his chest would feel tight, like a weight had been placed on it; in the end he would end up gasping for breath, and was the only noise to leave him. It was scary, it was painful, and it didn’t work - so he’d long since stopped trying. And it was all right with him, because he didn’t mind being voiceless. He had never felt like he was lacking… until now.

You told me your vocal cords were damaged. Did you… was that a lie?

It was. There had been no operation, no damage, no nothing. It had just seemed the easiest explanation to give. Something else had happened, something he didn’t quite recall but that was always there, lurking just beyond his grasp- a closed door and it wouldn’t budge it was so dark and there were cries and I think it was me -and he couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to, because the more he focused on it the more he feared that he’d remember, and that it would be too much.

Ezequiel swallowed and leaned his forehead down on his knees, trying with all his might to keep himself from trembling, and his thoughts drifted to his mother. He hadn’t seen her for so long and he didn’t remember her face very well, but he remembered the way she used to smile, how she’d cover his face in kisses, and how she used to sing him to sleep. She often said that the stuff had ruined her voice - “But I am going to quit, cielito, very soon now, and we’ll be all better” - and maybe it was rougher than it should have been, but Ezequiel still though it was the best voice in the world.

He remember how it sounded so well, because she sang Cielito Lindo to him every night and he’d memorized each word. He could pull it from the back of his mind and hear it in her voice again, as if listening to a record. It never failed to soothe him and it didn’t fail now, either.

De la Sierra Morena, cielito lindo, vienen bajando, Un par de ojitos negros, cielito lindo, de contrabando. Ay, ay, ay, ay, Canta y no llores, Porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los corazones…

Little by little, Ezequiel managed to stop shaking, and to clear his head some. Maybe he should head back, he thought, only to remember that it would be useless: the clerk had been wrong. He couldn’t give Socorro the blessing she needed, no matter how much he wished to. Besides, they were probably mad at him right now. They wouldn’t want him to be back. But he couldn’t stay there forever, either, wherever there was. He should ask someone for dire–

“Yip! Yip!”

A sudden yapping sound, along with a pull at his trousers, caused Ezequiel to wince and look up in alarm. Or rather, look down at the tiny, lime-green dog that was tugging at the fabric of his clothes. An alebrije, he guessed; he’d seen a few of those when he’d first arrived, but none of them that tiny. It looked like a… was it a chihuahua?

Ezequiel hesitated for a moment before reaching out for it, holding his palm up for the dog to sniff, but it just launched itself at him instead, causing him to hit his back against the wall with a startled gasp. The tiny dog stared at him for a moment, head tilted and paws on his chest, before giving another yap and licking his face. Ezequiel let out a silent snicker and reached for the dog, who nuzzled against his palm before jumping off him. It tugged at his clothes again, then took a few steps away and turned back to him.

“Ruff!”

… Wait. Was it trying to get him to follow it?

Alebrijes are spirit guides, the case worker who’d been looking after him had explained him. They look after their chosen in the Land of the Living disguised as animals, and show their true form here. Not all are blessed with one. How and why they pick some of us is a mystery, but once they do, they will look out after their chosen ones and their families.

After a moment of hesitation, Ezequiel stood and took  a couple of steps towards the alebrije. The tiny dog wagged its tail, and gave another yap before it began trotting away, gradually picking up speed, and Ezequiel did his best to keep up. After all, he was lost already; all things considered, following a spirit guide - his spirit guide? Had it just picked him? - seemed like a sensible thing to do.

***

“I can’t believe I lost an alebrije. How do you lose a spirit guide?”

Ernesto de la Cruz paused at the outskirts of Shantytown, at a complete loss. He’d looked everywhere in that wretched place, and Diablo was simply not there. That made no sense: none of his alebrijes had ever, ever voluntarily strayed that far from him before. Not in life, when they were nothing then lap dogs, and certainly not in death.

“Still nothing?” he asked, glancing down. The other three were a few steps from him, nose to the ground. Then all three lifted their heads to look towards the brightly lit town, where the celebrations were in full swing, before looking back at him. Ernesto muttered a curse. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not going there unless I have to, today least of all!” he snapped.

So what if that stupid rat was missing? He was an alebrije, it wasn’t like he could die. Maybe it would turn up the next day, maybe the following week, and did it really matter at all?

Not too long ago - eight years to be absolutely exact - that would have been true. He would have worried, yes, enough to send somebody of the security to look for him, but not too much; he’d have assumed he’d be back. Now, however, the simple truth was that his alebrijes were all that he had left, and the one thing no one could accuse him of having stolen. He had lost everything; the possibility of losing even more was too much to bear.

Was he lost, stuck somewhere? What if someone had found him and decided to take him? What if he’d simply decided to leave? In his coat’s pockets, his hands clenched into fists.

No, it can’t be. He’s my alebrije. He can’t just leave me behind, Ernesto thought, some desperation starting to creep in. He’d never heard of a spirit guide just deserting its chosen, but… could it happen? Had it happened? And if that was the case, how long before the other three did the same? How long before he was entirely, utterly on his own?

I’d thought Héctor would never leave me on my own, but he did, didn’t he? I was not important enough to stick around then. I surely am not now.

A whining noise snapped Ernesto from his thoughts, and he looked down at his alebrijes for just a moment before he gave an exasperated groan and turned to march back to his shack to fetch a hat, a scarf - anything to disguise himself before he went looking for that stupid, stupid dog.

“Fine. Fine. Wait for me here and I’ll–”

“Ruff! Ruff!” The sudden barking and howling caused him to stop in his tracks, and he turned to see his thee alebrijes darting ahead… to be joined, only moments later, by a fourth. They tumbled together on the ground, barking and snapping and wagging tails, and Ernesto heaved a sigh of relief.

Well, false alarm. I can go back inside and drink myself into a stupor, as per my new yearly tradition. A drink with me. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Where have you been?” he demanded to know, taking a step forward. It was his intention to sound angry, but of course Diablo immediately stood on his hind legs to greet him, and that made it almost impossible. With a sigh, Ernesto picked him up and let him settle in the crook of his arm. “Pull that one me again, and I’ll tie you to a post– stop looking at me like that! We have talked about thi– hey! Where are you going?”

Diablo didn’t seem to listen: he just barked and jumped off his arms again, trotting back the way he’d come for a few steps. Ernesto scowled and opened his mouth to yell at him to come back right now, but words died in his throat when he raised his gaze and realized that Diablo hadn’t come alone, after all.

Standing before him, eyes moving slowly from him to the alebrijes and then back to him, there was a boy.

***

[Back to Part 3]

[On to Part 5]

[patheticnugbaby]

Hunting Ground I

I decided I wanted to do a multi-chapter Halamshiral fic and boy did I pick a lot of fucking work. I wanted to go more in depth over how my particular inquisitor (Adahla Lavellan) felt at the Winter Palace. Later chapters will probably have Solavellan fluff but this one’s mostly just about Adahla learning the rules of a new hunting ground.

After the introductions Adahla felt exceedingly flustered, her hands were sweating under the thin gray gloves, only softly diffusing the harsh, green glow from her left hand. She had never felt quite so obviously marked by it until now, predatory eyes glancing surreptitiously at her from behind gilt masks. She took great care to hold herself firmly, with a straight spine and her shoulders back, taking slow breaths through her chest.

She was careful in the way that she walked, trying to project the easy grace of a confident woman. Dimly, she heard whispers, ‘Dalish barbarian’ ‘knife-ear’ ‘pretender’, each one slowly mounting in her chest, like the pressure of an ever rising firestorm.

She took a soft breath and hardened that hot rage. As she walked back out to the vestibule she gathered the strength of it around her like armor, out of the corner of her eye she caught the tiniest nod of approval from Josephine. She allowed herself a soft smile, let the expression tug at her lips with the slyness of a fox.

“Inquisitor, a word?” Leliana approached her, gently taking her arm and leading her towards the top of the stairs, “May I say first that you did very well, Inquisitor.”

“Thank you, Sister,” She replied, gently patting Leliana’s hand.

“You are most welcome,” Leliana paused, leaning to take a glass from a passing server, “I should tell you that in the absence of Madame de Fer the empress has seen fit to employ a new court enchanter. We knew each other some time ago, she is ruthless and has seemingly charmed the entire court, as if by magic,”

“I will keep that in mind,” She answered smoothly, trying very hard not to show how much the idea shook her, “could you excuse me, Sister?”

“Of course, my lady Inquisitor,” Leliana let go of her arm, seeming to disappear almost immediately.

“Right,” She whispered to herself and sauntered through the next hall, the Hall of Heroes, she thought they called it.

As she passed she caught the smallest whispers, her ears flicked and she stopped, just out of sight behind a statue.

“-commotion in the upper levels.”

“The one off the garden? Statuette?”

They stopped speaking. She heard the sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the stairs. Adahla sighed and closed her eyes.

“Andruil, blood and force, I pray to you. Ma lasa ghilan, ma las Vir Tanadhal: Vir Assan, Vir Bor’assan, Vir Adahlen. Ma lasa ghilan, ar dar’misu.” She did not say the words aloud, only mouthed them.

She knew the gods no longer heard her but the muttered prayer, one she had whispered before every hunt not so long ago, settled some of the wild, nervous fluttering in her chest. She may be bound and trussed tightly in layers upon layers of shemlen clothing but she was still a hunter. This was not the forest, yet it was not so different from it. Instead of trees, there were gaudy pillars and statues, her prey did not hide in the brush or the grass, but rather behind glittering masks and lacy fans.

She was not a hunter who came back empty handed.

Adahla set off with a greater purpose than she had felt in months. To anyone watching she wouldn’t even look like quite the same woman that came into the palace. She suddenly stalked the ornate halls like she owned them, more akin to a red lion than an out-of-place dalish.

“Inquisitor,” Solas greeted her as she strode into the next room, “you have adjusted well.”

“Thank you, Solas,” She paused, tilting her head, “How do you find Halamshiral?”

“I adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events,” He admitted, leaning on the statue next to him, “the nobles don’t know what to make of me, though the servants are happy enough to refill my glass.”

“Seems you’ve drunk enough already,” She teased, glancing down at his half-full glass, “how many will that make when you finish it?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been counting. Besides,” He gave her a wolfish grin, “I am entirely too sober for this.”

She chuckled, “Will you save me a dance?”

“I can only imagine the scandal of the Inquisitor dancing with an elven servant,”

“Before the night is done I intend to shock them with greater concerns than my choice of dance partners,” She felt a fox’s grin slip onto her face, Solas slightly lifted his glass.

“Good hunting,”

She sauntered further down the hall, she caught snatches of useful conversation. Things she would relay to Leliana at a later date, assuming her illustrious spymaster hadn’t already heard. She turned, nearly running into an agitated Orelesian man.

“Where is Phillipe? Leaving me to deal with Gaspard’s vitriol!”

“That’s awfully rude of him to leave you here with all the work,” She managed to hide their near collision with a gentle, reassuring touch on the shoulder.

“Exactly! Leaving me to relay Gaspard’s death threats to the Council while he rolls some elven maid!” He huffed, then patted her hand, “My sincerest apologies, Inquisitor, I did not mean to shout.”

“You’re quite alright, Ser,” She smiled gently, “It sounds like you have a busy night, especially being down on help.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor, you are too kind. I really must be going,”

“Of course,” She demurred, allowing him to pass her before she made her way to the balcony.

The greenery was lovely, in a well-groomed Orelesian sort of way. She very much preferred the wilder growths of the forest to well-trimmed lawns and hedges. Abandoned in the lawn, something glinted in the moonlight. She chanced a quick look around, satisfied that she was alone, she hopped over the banister and snatched it up.

Clara — kitchen staff — entered servants' wing by main stair 1:30

Vernon — undergardener — entered servants' wing from hall 2:45

Sophie — chamber maid — entered servants' wing from hall 3:22

Marius — footman — entered servants' wing by main stair 3:45

Briala, we need immediate support down there. Something's gone wrong.

How curious. She tucked it into the pockets of her silver cloak and quickly slid back over the banister, smoothing her dress before re-entering the room. She picked a small cake from a tray, nibbling on it at she pressed through the door to the guest gardens. People milled around, chatting, drinking, eating. At least, if you didn’t look any closer that’s what they were doing.

A few clandestine letters exchanged hands, rumors were placed and exchanged, sabotages planned, deaths requested. These people weren’t the prey she was seeking, though the interesting pieces of gossip she heard were hoarded and saved for later. She tried not to flick her ears too much, as much as she wanted to hear everything. After a little searching, she found a door up to the next level.

She hurried up, upon arriving finding it deserted save a few smears of blood on the marble. She kneeled, careful not to get any stains on the silvered embroidery on the hem of her dress. At the end of a long hour of arguments, Leliana and Vivienne had decided on black, white, and silver, not unlike the clothes she wore to greet ‘important’ guests at Skyhold.

She shook her head, removing one of her gloves to touch the blood with her fingertips, wet, but cold. Recent. Adahla licked it from her fingertips. Elven.

Something akin to a thrill ran up her spine and she smiled a hunter’s smile. She stood, gathering her skirts to lift them above her ankles as she stepped over the smeared blood. It led to the library but she wanted to check outside first.

She did not want to walk out of the library only to be ambushed by another hunter. Along the opposite side, laying on the banister were two things, a tiny halla statuette, and a love letter.

She pocketed both and stood there for a time, listening.

The soft din of the people on the lower levels, the steady hum of the Anchor she rarely noticed anymore. Glasses clinked and people laughed. The silver sound of a coin being flipped through the air.

Unsuspecting jackals below her. Scavengers more than predators, scrabbling with each other for scraps of power and reputation. They were not hunters the way she was.

She retreated back the way she came, spying a door. Other halla statues were placed in little alcoves around the doorframe. One such alcove was empty. Adahla smiled and pressed the little statue she had into the empty space.

Silver-blue circles of light sprang from the door. Her ears flicked at she detected the sound of stone grinding on stone as the door swung open.

A tiny room, cluttered with books and papers and chests, lit by one solitary veilfire candle. She shut the door behind her, flipping through the papers on the desk, her eyes reflecting the pale blue-green light.

She found nothing on the desk and started going through the papers that seemed to have been thrown to the floor. Someone didn’t like these letters. She grinned when she found the one she was looking for.

Celene,

We can discuss this like adults, can't we? We both know the weapon at Briala's disposal could not only turn the tide of our war but every war. The empire must control it; I do not believe you disagree. She is now a greater threat to Orlais than anything else. If you and I work together, we can wrest control away from her. Do not deceive yourself that she will be open to negotiation or diplomacy. You know her better than anyone—you know that's impossible.

Gaspard

“A weapon to turn the tide of every war?” She mused, pocketing the letter, “You might just be after my own heart, Briala.”

She stood and pressed her ear to the door. She heard nothing and pulled it open.

The upper balcony was deserted, as it had been when she left it. She stalked to the large double doors leading to the library, being sure that the heels of her shoes didn’t click on the marble. The doors swung open silently and she swept inside. Adahla was suddenly assaulted with the scent of parchment, ink, and old leather with the gentle mustiness of dust.

She ran her hands along the books on the shelves, gently pressing her fingers between them to see if she could find any hidden letters or documents. She pressed one particular book, its title faded beyond recognition and heard a soft click. Her ears perked up, then flicked backward at the sound of doors opening. Pride swelled in her chest as she slid into the secret room. A veilfire torch lit the room, illuminating the one letter left out on the desk.

Lady M,

I need you at my side tonight. The unpleasantness in the royal wing has convinced me there is no safety within the palace. I do not expect my cousin to employ magic, but I would hardly be surprised if he provoked another infestation; since my court enchanter is not here to assist me, I must rely entirely upon you. There is no one else I can trust.

Celene

“Lady M’s on good terms with her majesty,” She said aloud, ears pricking at the sudden whoosh of wind.

“She is confident and sure. She knows more than Vivienne ever did.”

“Good evening, Cole,” She smiled, turning to look at him, the veilfire lit his pale face eerily like he was a ghost.

“This place has no good evenings. Just blood.”

“Co-” Her ears flicked when she heard the tolling of a bell, “Fenedhis!”

“They will like you better if you wait until the second bell. Making an entrance, clad in black and white and silver. Starry nights on snow-covered mountains.”

She smiled and gently clasped his hands, “Try not to get overwhelmed here, Cole. I do not know if you can help them.”

“I tried but they kept getting angry with me. They’ve forgotten now.”

Adahla gave his hands a reassuring squeeze before she breezed past him. Her heels clicked unabashedly on the marble as she closed the doors behind her and slunk down the stairs. As she passed through the gardens no one seemed to note her long absence. She smiled to herself as she swept back into the palace, greeted by the warmth of a fire and the scent of alcohol and sweets.

She detected a few whispers, ‘A dalish?’ ‘One of those barefoot vagabonds?’, Adahla let herself shrug them off. She was Dalish and she was proud. She was proud of the pale vallaslin over her left eye, her ears that flicked and turned to hear better, her eyes that saw more in the dark than any shem’s would. She sauntered back through the vestibule, her head stretched to open the door when she heard the soft sound of human shoes trying to be quiet on the marble.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Adahla turned to face the voice, coming down the stairs, “The leader of the new Inquisition, fabled herald of the faith.” A pale woman, dark hair piled on her head wearing an extravagant red gown, “Delivered from the grasp of the fade by the hand of Blessed Andraste herself.” The woman said it like it was a joke, yellow eyes glinting at her, “What could bring such an exalted creature here to the Imperial Court, I wonder? Do you even know?”

Adahla settled back on her feet, giving the woman a coy smile, “We may never know, My Lady. Courtly intrigues and all that.”

“Such intrigues obscure much, but not all,” The woman paused and briefly bowed her head, “I am Morrigan. Some call me advisor to Empress Celene on matters of the arcane.”

Morrigan walked by her, not waiting for Adahla to follow but seeming to expect her to. She did, after a moment, as though she wasn’t sure about her just yet.

“You... Have been very busy this evening, hunting in every dark corner of the palace,”

“I am a hunter, Lady Morrigan. This is not the forest but it is a forest,” She replied, smiling at the other woman’s chuckle.

“So it is. Perhaps the two of us hunt the same prey, Inquisitor?”

“I hope so, M’lady,” Adahla bowed her head a little, “I would be honored to share my hunt with you.”

“Vir Adahlen, Inquisitor,”

She carefully schooled her face to not show any surprise, “Together we are stronger than the one,”

“Indeed,” Morrigan began walking again, seeming to lead her around the stairwell, “Recently I found, and killed, an unwelcome guest within these halls. An agent of Tevinter.” She stopped and turned to Adahla, pulling something from her sleeve, “So I offer you this, Inquisitor: A key, found on the Tevinter’s body. Where it leads, I cannot say. Yet if Celene is in danger, I cannot leave her side long enough to search. You can.”

“I may find the time to try a door or two,” She smiled and bowed her head, “Ma serannas,”

Morrigan chuckled, taking her arm and leading her back towards the door the ballroom, the second bell sounded, “Proceed with caution, Inquisitor. Enemies abound, and not all of them allied with Tevinter,” She paused her hand on the door and gave Adahla a sidelong glance, “What happens next, will be most exciting.”

[frostywindmademoan]

A Worthy Adversary

Pt. 6 in a multi chapter OC fic featuring Michael Gray

“I saw your face back there. You enjoyed watching him die.” Michael commented as he hopped up to sit on the kitchen table and Clara removed his shirt and wet a rag so she could clean him. “Of course. He was a scumbag, a scumbag who thought he was such hot shit that he assumed my smile meant I wanted a fuck. I didn’t mind watching you kill him. I only hope he had the time to connect the dots and realized I played him.” She ran the cool rag across his neck and chest.

Michael grabbed her hand to stop her. “You didn’t mind it? It didn’t scare you to see me like that?” Michael knit his eyebrows in concern.”No, it didn’t scare me. I noticed you’re establishing a pattern with the whole knife to the throat thing. I’d suggest avoiding the jugular so you don’t end up ruining all of your suits. If you come up from behind you can stab them in the back of the neck between the C1 and C2 vertebrae. This will at the very least paralyze them from the neck down. If you’re forceful enough it’ll kill them and get the job done well. There are plenty of veins in the back of the neck, but It won’t splatter like with an artery. In theory it should be rather clean.” Clara suggested. “Who the fuck are you.” Michael scoffed. “I’m a nurse who knows more than most of the doctors at that fucking hospital. A little anatomy goes a long way.” She explained. “I don’t even know what the fuck a C1 or C2 is.” Michael couldn’t believe she was offering suggestions like this. “Here, I’ll show you. They’re about right here.” She ran her finger along the back of his neck, just below his hair line. Her touch left goose bumps on his skin. “That’s going to take a bit of practice on my part. I’m not a genius like you apparently are.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why are you mad at me?” Clara looked up at him with concern. “You’re giving me killing advice for fucks sake, do you really think that’s normal?” He stared incredulously at her. “I’ll keep my mouth shut next time. You can keep showering in blood if that’s really what you want.” She threw the rag on the table next to where Michael was sitting and began to storm out. “No, babe, stop.” He hopped off the table and stopped her by wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, it’s just that… well, the first time I shot a guy I cried. I couldn’t even help it the tears just leaked out. You just saw a pretty brutal death, and then you gave me helpful tips. I’m just a bit concerned is all.” He whispered in her ear from behind. “Honestly, it’ll probably all sink in later. It’ll probably hit me hard. I’ll try my damnedest to not let anyone see it, though. I’m only telling you this because, well because you’re you. As far as the helpful tips go, I just thought you might want to avoid making such a mess. That blood’s easily tracked. It might come back to bite you.” She leaned back into his embrace. “You are a genius.” Michael kissed her neck. “You’re a pretty smart guy yourself.” She chuckled. “I love you Clara Behmen.” He whispered in her ear. She turned around to face him so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. “I love you Michael Gray.” Clara whispered against his lips as she began to kiss him. Yep, Michael certainly wanted to marry her. No one else was a match for Michael quite like Clara. “I’m going to need you to run that C 1&2 stuff by me again.” He said against her lips. She laughed at him. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

After the events of Michael being stabbed and Clara being used as bait, Clara’s role within the Peaky Blinders shifted. She became their go to nurse. Really she was more like a personal doctor. She saw everything from busted noses, to broken arms, to stab wounds, to bullet holes, and everything in between. Clara was also enlisted a few more times to be bait. Michael hated it every time and threw a fit, but she was actually quite the little actress. She was a wiz with accents so she’d pretend to be Jenny from Edinburgh, Gwen from Cardiff, she was once even Vera from New York. The scheme worked like a charm every time. Michael had even adopted the C 1&2 killing technique. Clara had to show him quite a few times what vertebrae they are in one of her anatomy books, but he eventually got it. Polly, however, was becoming concerned that there was even a need for Michael to develop a killing technique. She knew it was just a matter of time before Michael, or Clara, or both got seriously hurt. The couple quickly earned the nicknames of ‘the Prince and Princess of Mayhem’ from the other Peaky Blinders. It was clear to everyone that they were a good fit for each other. They would bicker and argue and push each other’s buttons, but a quick resolution typically followed. They knew each other’s deepest secrets, things they would never tell anyone else. The mutual fear that had started their relationship was now mutual trust. The idea of marrying Clara stayed with Michael. He never brought it up to her because when he first had the epiphany they had only been together for a few months. Clara would have laughed in his face. Enough time had past since then that he was really considering asking her, but part of him was still afraid that she’d laugh in his face. One morning he decided he’d try to test the waters. “You know, it’s almost been a year since I bought you that first gin.” He reminded her. “So it has. The drink that started it all.” Clara smiled fondly. “We’ve been good, haven’t we? We’ve been good partners in crime.” Michael hesitantly asked. “We’ve been excellent partners in crime.” She walked over to where he was seated and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He rested his hands on her bum. “I’d quite like to keep the partnership up.” Michael looked her in the eyes, waiting to see if she would catch his drift. “I see no reason why we should stop now.” She replied. Of course, only Clara could give such an ambiguous answer. She saw no reason to stop, a positive, but she sees no reason now which means that maybe she will in the future, a negative. “You’ve got a crease between you eyebrows.” Clara gently ran her finger down the bridge of his nose to smooth out the worry. Her hands were a great comfort to Michael. They were actually one of his favorite features of hers. Her hand would look good with a ring on it. “What are you thinking?” She hummed with curiosity at him. “I’m thinking that I just thought of an errand I need to run. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Michael removed Clara from his lap, grabbed his wallet, and headed out the door. He was going to buy a ring.

Michael knew Clara most likely wouldn’t want anything too fancy, but he wanted to spoil her. He chose a ring with a nice sized diamond in the middle, and with smaller sized diamonds cut to look like leaves around it, giving the impression of ivy. She’d like that. After purchasing the ring. Michael swung by Arrow House to find Ada. “Can I ask you something about a rather… sensitive matter?” He attempted to find the correct word. “I’m a bit afraid of what you’re going to say, but go ahead.” Ada folded her arms across her chest in preparation for the worst. “If someone were going to propose to you, how would you want to be asked?” Michael was a bit uncomfortable coming to Ada like this. “Oh my God! You’re going to propose to Clara!” She exclaimed. “Shh, nobody knows! I want to make sure I do this right. You know how she is about genuine affection and romance and shit. I have no idea whether she’ll actually say yes or not. I need it to be perfect.” Michael explained. “Right, well if it were me being proposed to I’d want it to be romantic. With candles and roses and such. Clara would hate that though. She’ll want it to be casual. Clara only likes attention when she’s playing someone. Keep it honest between you two.” Ada suggested. “Alright, yeah she’ll like casual. How do I accomplish that?” Michael was clueless about these matters. “You know her better than anyone. You’ll think of something.” Ada assured him. Finn then came into the room, prompting Ada and Michael to abruptly end their conversation. “I’ve been looking for you Michael. Do you know where Clara is? Isaiah dislocated his thumb or some shit like that, but we can’t track her down.” Finn asked. “She isn’t at mine? Or her’s?” Michael’s eyebrows creased. “No, and she’s not at the hospital either. We’ve checked the betting shop, the Garrison, even the fucking bakery. Isaiah is being a bloody bitch about the pain so if you could let us know where she’s at we can shut him up.” Finn complained. “Clara doesn’t have a shift today. She told me she was going to get some housework done. She should be at house.” Michael’s voice grew concerned. “Well we can’t find her bloody anywhere.” Finn shrugged. “Thanks for the advice Ada. Come with me.” Michael ordered Finn. The two rushed back to Michael’s house, the last place Clara was seen. “She should be here.” Michael looked around desperately. He rushed upstairs to the bedroom for any sign of her. It was there in the bedroom’s adjoining bathroom that Michael realized something terrible had happened. Everything from the counter was knocked onto the floor and strewn all over the place. The mirror was shattered with cracks spreading out from a single contact point that was marked with blood. “Fuck!” Michael screamed. “Shit.” Finn gasped when he walked in on the scene. “Look for anything that’ll tell us who did this!” Michael barked at him. “Look over here! There’s some hair here that is too dark and short for Clara’s. It’s a bloke’s. And see here, a fucking nasty looking bloody tooth. This can’t be hers.” Finn pointed out. “She put up a fight.” Michael observed. “Still doesn’t tell us who did this.” Finn sighed. “Call everyone and get them over here.” Michael instructed.

Chapter List Here

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Think About You (Tommy Lee x reader)

Summary:

From the prompts list: "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Requested:

anon

Warnings:

Language, fluff

SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Think About You

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

//

Being Nikki’s best friend has proved to be a challenge for you over the years. You love the guy, but he can drive you insane. He never listens to you, even though you’re only trying to do what’s best for him. He’ll come home late with either a girl hanging off of him, or so wasted that he can’t fucking walk straight. 

But, when you need Nikki, he’s there for you. Even if it’s just something like a breakup or someone being mean to you. He’ll lay in your bed with you and console you. He’s the best friend you’ve ever had. Nikki’s made you a better person.

Nikki has brought a lot of people in and out of your life. Most of them being his batshit crazy girlfriends that he’d either be using to get drugs or steal money from. Yes, he can be a real douche at times. One that really stuck with you, is Tommy Lee. 

You don’t know what it is about the lanky drummer, but you fell for him nearly the moment you laid eyes on him. You loved his goofiness and his “up for anything” attitude. However, when you met him for the second time, you acted like you hated him. You don’t know what made you give him the cold shoulder like you did. You think that it might just be another one of your defense mechanisms your mind has subconsciously come up over the years of being beat down and hurt. 

You would never engage in a conversation with the very loveable drummer. You would barely even look his way. He’d ask you a question and you’d brush him off. You’d act like you didn’t even hear him. Apparently, Tommy asked Nikki why you hated him so much. Nikki, knowing you better than you know yourself, just told him he didn’t know. Right after he barged into your room and told you what happened. He knew that you like Tommy and why you were shutting him out. He told you to give the kid drummer a chance. This was only four weeks ago, and you’re STILL trying to figure out what to do. 

You find yourself staring at Tommy when he’s not looking. When you realize what you’re doing, you’ll immediately snap out of your daze, feeling very embarrassed. You just know that one day you’re gonna get caught and you’ll never hear the end of it. You’ll be tortured about it by the Terror Twins until the day you die.

Today is a lazy day. Nikki didn’t want to go anywhere, surprisingly. He wanted to focus more on finding a guitarist and lead singer. You didn’t mind helping your best friend in his desperate search. He knows exactly what he wants from this band. He believes with every fibre of his being that they’re gonna make it. Tommy’s an excellent drummer. A LOT better than what you thought he’d be. He has so much energy, he could probably go through four fast paced songs and still be completely fine. However, Nikki still needs to work on his bass skills instead of working on songs. You need to know how to play the damn instrument before writing music with it. Nikki still won’t listen, and you chose not to push it. Getting yelled at all the time is something you don’t want to become the norm. You don’t have the patience for it. 

Nikki sits in one of the chairs you put out earlier in the week that’s on the other side of the coffee table. He’s bent over his notebook, deep in his thoughts. His pencil is moving so fast you just know he’ll barely be able to read what he wrote. Tommy sits next to you on the couch. Way too close for your liking. His thigh is barely touching yours, but that still feels too close. 

You sigh, flipping through another stupid newspaper with useless ads. Nothing for what you’re needing. A headache forms quickly, causing you to groan. You need a break. You smile as you finally land on an ad that will be useful. 

“Loud, rude, and aggressive guitar player available.”

You instantly ripped the ad out of the newspaper, overly excited about your finding. You were about to hand it to Nikki, but changed your mind. He’d be mad if you interrupted the flow he’s got goin’. Reluctantly, you turn to Tommy. He’s still looking through the same newspaper he’s had for over an hour. You don’t say anything. You just place the now ripped out ad onto his newspaper, knocking him out of whatever was going through his head. Tommy’s eyes snapped up to meet your own.

You smile slightly. “Found something.”

You take a deep breath before standing up. You grab your pack of cigs, then go outside. You lean against the railing while grabbing a cigarette. You put the stick between your lips, pulling out your lighter. You light it, taking a long drag. You drop your head, looking at the ground far below. You doubt you’ll ever open up to Tommy. You don’t think you’re capable of it. 

You don’t even hear the door open. Before you know it, Tommy stands beside you. He grabs his own cigarette, lighting it without saying a word. You’re a bit confused, to say the least. You just brush it off. 

“How long have you liked me?” Tommy blurts. 

You look up at him, your face turning red. “W-What do you mean?”

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice,” Tommy responds, a knowing smirk on his perfect lips. 

You shake your head. “So what if I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“So what if I like you?”

“Is that a yes?”

You pause for a moment. Should you tell the truth? “Yes.”

Tommy’s eyes light up. “Good!”

“Good?”

“Yes! I’ve liked you since I met you! I thought you hated me,” Tommy’s voice goes shy at the last sentence. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just how I deal with new feelings. I push them away,” You answer. Your voice sounds bored and sad. A tone you used more than you realize.

Tommy frowns, watching you take another drag. “What happened?”

You shrug. “Not important.” You throw your cigarette into the grass below. “So now what?”

“Huh?” Tommy’s voice sounds surprised. 

You smile. “Are you gonna ask me out on a date or what?”

“O-Oh!” 

You giggle at him as you watch him get his bearings. 

He clears his throat. “Will you go on a date with me, (Y/N)?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Yes I will.”

That’s all you say, going back into the cramped apartment. Your mind is whirling with the thoughts of what Tommy will do for your date. You just know it’s going to be something you’ll love. He’ll probably ask Nikki what you’d want on a first date. To be completely honest, you’ll love whatever it is as long as he puts in the effort. The more effort he puts in, the more you know he actually wants to be with you. You’re very excited.

Taglist:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666

Tommy: @2dead2function @horrorpxnk @wft-clara @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @jjjjjjjoshdun @umyessnikkisixx @nikkifuckinnsixx @daisystuffsstuff @guns-n-fucking-roses @wowilovenikkisixx