#I think Ven would pick another word than fuck

[musicismymoirail]

Ngl, I am having a lot of fun just making silly diy jewelry designs for Vendetta. 🥰 Ne makes a lot, especially out of wire. I feel like Themmy just gave nem a spool one day and was like ‘go wild you funky little gremlin’.

God. Vendetta would love the nickname of gremlin so so much too. :’l

[hxnmantii]

Class 1-A and their car habits

tw: crack/fluff, cursing

People: Bakugo, Shoto, Izuku, Sero, Kiri, iida, Mina x mostly gn!reader (Mina is the only one that’s implied female!reader)

Ratings: PG

A/n: yuuhh get into💋 I personally would like to ride with Shoto. I just wanna hold his hand👉🏾👈🏾 but not on no simp shit. Originally, this was going to be just boys but who would I be if my gay self didn’t add the queen herself? Anyways, Who would you like to ride with?

Bakugo~

Bakugo does that sexy ass thing where he drives with one hand on the wheel and one hand on your thigh and when you don’t pay him enough attention he’ll lightly squeeze your thigh. This man does NOT share the aux....his stingy ass. He says he doesn’t wanna listen “to your trash music” but will play bxmb threat and NBA Youngboy at full capacity with the windows down. If you beg enough maybe he’ll play 1 Nicki song. But he will throw a fit and act like he doesn’t like Nicki even though he knows all of the lyrics. Altough he’s really uptight about his car, he enjoys driving and picking up the Bakusquad in it because he likes to feel useful and needed. No doubt about it, this man has road rage. He’s screaming outside the window and in the car about how someone cut him off and when someone screams back him, he’s like “Pull over right now cuz those sound like fighting words to me.” Now y’all in the back of a cop car and 30 minutes late to your dinner date. You are not, I repeat, you are NOT allowed to even think about eating in his car unless he’s got that plastic wrapping on his car. He treats his car so good (at some point you think he likes the care better than you) her name is Bethany. I-

Shoto~

Shoto has one hand on the wheel and one hand in your hand, stroking your hand from time to time and kissing the back of it. He had a sleek gray sliver car with a sunroom (he never actually uses) that goes fast and he likes going real fast because what they gon do, give him a ticket??? When his dad the number one hero??? Try again. He’s also the type to flick off the cops as he driving by because ACAB. He’s always wearing a gold Rolex and you got your nails done so when you hold his, the acrylics compliment his hand and watch.(like the pictures from Pinterest) You guys ride in comfortable silence. It’s so calming riding with him because although you’re slightly anxious with how fast he’s going, you’re at somewhat ease because he’s doing it so smoothly and you trust him. His windows are tinted because once again he’s the son of a pro hero and people are nosy, neither you or him like that. Although you don’t really need the assistance with Shoto being a living AC and heater in one, his seats have buttons for each seat and you can warm your bum. His car had the clean car smell...it just smells really clean. He’s got a bunch of condiments and napkins in his glove department. He doesn’t know where they came from. His whole vibe in his car is rich and elegant. He gets his car professional wash every Tuesday and you are required to come.

Kirishima

Kiri’s got a big ass red GMC truck and he gave the truck these monster wheels so it’s a force to be reckoned with. Her name is Sophie and like Bakugo, he loves her dearly but makes it clear to you that he’s love you more than her. He does the sexy ass thing where he’s got one hand on the wheel and one hand tightly holding on to your head rest so his arms flexing and he’s backing up with a concentrated look. that is so hot to me. He’s got a sticker on the back that says “honk if you’re manly” . He definitely would let you take the aux because you guys made a playlist of songs you chose together. He would be the type to start dancing when a good song came on, almost hitting someone in the process because he took both hands off the steering wheel out of excitement. He’s got road rage but not enough to actually start shouting or flicking someone off. In the trunk of Kirishima’s car, he’s got at least 5 different protein bottles as well a case of water and some jump rope. He says “You never know when I’ll need it to work out” but he has his personal gym?? Anyways, he has a specific section in his closet for red button ups because he likes to match Sophie when he drives her😭 I hate to say it but Kiri looks like a hill billy especially since he’s got those shoulder cut out button ups. He’s cute with it and he’s happy so you somewhat tolerate it

Midoriya

Izuku has more of a family car like a soccer mom car or a dark green Ford explore because he likes to pick everybody up to hang out and he needs space since he’s got a lot of them. Not to mention, he also likes to cruise and enjoy his time with you no matter where y’all go because we all know this man is a simppp. At every stop light, he’s gently grabbing your face and either kissing you on your cheek or forehead. He tried giving you a kiss on the lips once but he got so caught on the feeling that he ended up holding up the line and everybody was honking and made at him. He was so embarrassed that he now waits til you guys get to your destination to do all that extraness. Being the big fan he is, naturally he has some All might themed seatbelts and has all might stickers all over his steering wheel. He also has little all Might figurine on his dashboard that he prays to get him out of car trouble. Genuinely think it’s works too. Izuku in his trunk has a bunch of workout gear and gaze cuz he’s sexy like that. He does not have road rage at all....maybe a little. He might flick someone off but that’s as far as it goes. He definitely gives you the aux because he loves watching how lively you get it. (Y/n) “Do you know your Megan baby?”🥰 (ZuZu) “Y-yes?”

Iida

Now hear me out...Iida has a motorcycle. He’s got a need for speed that cars can’t really fufill because you can’t weave through other cars like a motorcycle can. His motorcycle has the highest tech on it naturally. It’s all black but has lights underneath it so he can change it by phone and ofc it’s always blue. You guys also have matching helmets that are Bluetooth so you’re able to talk to one another without having to yell very much. When you guise stop, he rubbing your arms to make sure that you’re okay and/if you need to pull over. Now when he’s not riding the motorcycle he’s got a Tesla. He preaches about the law and following the rules but when he get in the car, that’s a different story. With him you better either hold on tight to him or you better get double seat belt buckles for extra protection because he’s about to try and race the flash. (And you thought Shoto was bad) You get out thanking the universe for letting you touch ground again. Iida got the type of car that if you even breathe incorrectly around it, it’s going off and waking up the whole damn neighborhood. When iida first got his car, he read everything up on it so he would be fully able to use the car to its full potiential meaning that he’s got Siri set up, he can lock the door from his car, and watch the cameras on his house through the screen of his car. The Bluetooth is automatically connected to his phone so no you will not be getting the aux but you can play some tunes form his phone. He’ll even make you a playlist on Apple Music with his rich self.

Sero

Sero’s got a red convertible with tan seats and the weather allows it, his top is always down. His car always smells so good because he uses the wild cherry air freshener in his car. He blasts bad bunny and daddy Yankee as y’all are cruising slightly over the speed light. He also likes blasting Ski Mask. He’s the type to sing you the words while gently holding your face and singing to you with a lovey dovey smile on his face. He’s very respectful and turns down his music when entering neighborhoods because he doesn’t wanna mess with the vibes. You two have matching glasses that says queen/ king on yours and king on his. He definitely has some throw dice hanging from his mirror along with a picture of you and him taped to his dashboard cuz he’s also a simp. He’s always has a packet of Extra gum in his middle console along with warm water bottles. If police pulls him over, he definitely the type to start flirting with him so the officer just to make him uncomfortable enough to let him off with a warning. For a fact, he has the Puerto Rican flag on the antenna of his car. He has Led lights and likes them to be colorful rather than on one color. Sero definitely jogs around the front to open the door for you because he’s a jester and a gentleman in one. His part of his car is that the top can go down solely for the fact that the sun always highlights your skins so well.

Mina

Do I even need to say anything about the Pink queen herself?? She has a cute pink steering wheel case with matching pink seats and ofc she has a bedazzled stick shift. She has a Jeep. She the type of person to has matching glasses with her interior and when you get in the car, she’s putting her music on shuffle: a dangerous move because you go from Brent Faiyaz to Jhene Aiki to fucking Cardi B, Flo Mili, and etc. When you unbuckle your seat to start twerking in the seat, she’s automatically going to start hyping you up. She’s got one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on your ass smacking it as you fuck it up in the passenger seat. Y’all are literally swerving from side to side and let’s be honest here, Mina is not that good of a driver so you have almost gotten in an accident multiple times. She’s the type to pull over to take cute selfies or videos with you and post them all at once captioning it with “Late nights w/bae”. Underneath seat she an emergency packet filled with makeup, clothes, hair and first aid kit supplies. Although she’s not the best driver, she takes the rules really serious because she would hate to have an accident with you in the car. Like Sero, She has led lights in her car but they only flash pink. Mina is the queen of putting falsies on so she would mostly definitely put yours on (without tweezers) once you park as well as do your edges if you ask. She just has that talent. *chefs kiss* amazing

Reblogs are appreciated!

A/n: I’m lyin I definitely would be riding with Bakugo because I have major passenger rod rage lol and you definitely don’t wanna get your ass beat TWICE

[ddarker-dreams]

Yandere Overhaul, Dabi, and Tomura’s reactions to their darling being hit on

Overhaul:

He was wondering what was taking you so long, as you had gone into a makeup shop a while ago. Overhaul had wanted to make up his recent lack of presence up to you, and offered to buy you anything you wanted today. It had been a peaceful day, as you enjoyed yourself.

He knows all your tendencies. Even if you did get distracted easily, you didn’t take this long. Overhaul decides to investigate, beginning to worry that something may have happened to you.

Navigating the crowded space with contempt, Overhaul eventually spots you. You have your hand on your arm, a sheepish smile on your face. The sight of you calmed him instantly, but it was short lived. He saw a man in casual attire speaking to you, his eyes wandering on your body.

“Oh, that’s really cool and all, but I really need to get going now...” 

You were too sweet for this world in his mind. It was painfully obvious that you were uncomfortable with the situation, but didn’t want to be rude. That was how you always were, and it was normally endearing to him. It wasn’t under these circumstances.

“Do you really need to go? I wouldn’t mind treating ya to dinner or something. Can I at least get your phone number?” 

Enough’s enough. Overhaul storms over, glaring harshly at the stranger. He looks at this person as if he was lower than dirt, which he was in Overhaul’s mind. He doesn’t even want to say a word to someone so utterly insignificant, opting to confront you instead.

“We’re leaving.” 

You don’t even bother arguing, grateful to have a way out of this situation. Overhaul begins to briskly walk for the exit, keeping a watchful eye on you in the process. You were walking a bit too slow for his liking, so he grabbed your wrist and lead you along; still careful not to hurt you.

The rest of the day Overhaul was almost silent. His mind always seemed elsewhere, but you tried your best to laugh off the situation and cheer him up. The moment you fell asleep later that night, Overhaul contacted a few unsavory folks to take care of the stranger. He saw it as cleansing unnecessary vermin. 

Dabi:

Dabi wasn’t known for patient and understanding behavior. Where he could be methodical and cold when necessary, it wasn’t the core of who he is. He could only stomach so much flirting from your friend before he snaps. 

It was already so difficult to get him to agree to hang out with your friend group. When he wasn’t working, he preferred to spend time with you alone. But the sweet way you begged him for the longest time worked wonders, and he agreed to spend just a few hours with them.

This “friend” of yours had known you longer than Dabi did, so that already put him in a sour mood. He never went out of his way to entertain your friends, but was decent to them if they spoke to him. But this person was another deal. 

Dabi knows people, he can see their intentions easily. Kotaro, the name of your friend, went out of his way to call you nicknames. He spoke of old stories, and constant inside jokes. Kotaro would occasionally glance at Dabi, but paid no attention to him other than that.

Kotaro began crossing a line when he started placing his filthy hands on your shoulder, under the pretext of friendship. It always felt like he was closer to you than he had to be, even if you were entirely oblivious to any malicious intent.

This caused Dabi to become touchy with you. He wasn’t going to contain himself any longer, fuck that noise. He was obnoxious about it in every way. Placing an arm around your shoulder, putting his hand on your thigh, pulled you to sit in his lap, making sly sexual innuendos towards you. He made bold comments about his sex life with you while looking Kotaro in the eye.

When the two of you leave, there’s a miraculous moment in which you forgot something back at the spot everyone was hanging out. This gave Dabi a moment to be one on one with Kotaro, who ignored him.

Dabi places a hand on Kotaro’s shoulder, holding him in place. Kotaro tries to shrug it off, but flinches at the amount of pressure Dabi was applying. Dabi leans forward and tells him that if he ever talks to you again, he’ll kill him in the most painful ways imaginable.

Tomura:

In all honesty, it was an extremely unfortunate situation.

Tomura was bored due to the lack of your presence, since you were off on some League business. He had been wandering around, looking for something to do. That’s when his ears picked up a few murmurs in a room over.

He didn’t pay it any attention at first, it was probably just his underlings talking. But then he heard mention of your name, and immediately became interested in the discussion. Tomura creeps over to the thin wall, placing his ear against it.

“Have you seen the boss’ new piece of ass? I have no idea how he got so lucky. I’d fuck that without hesitation.” 

“I’ve thought about visiting them sometime, but he’s always with them. It’d be hard to get with [First] one on one...” 

A few more indecent comments, and then the conversation switches. Tomura’s eyes are wild, insatiable blood lust oozing from his entire being. The comments made him livid in so many ways, he had a difficult time ven controlling his own breathing.

Tomura wastes no time, hatred and fury boiling together into a single ugly emotion. He makes his presence known, his hand reaching out in there direction. Before his underlings could even think, he turned every person in the room into a pile of dust.

Even the people who didn’t make comments weren’t granted mercy. His rage needed to be satisfy by death, and that’s what he intended to do. His entire vision was blurry and uneven, and he made sure the people who did make comments suffered the greatest.

When you got back from your job, you had greeted Tomura with a smile. He was extremely clingy for the next few days, constantly prodding you for validation and affection. It took a long time for him to stop sulking, and you never got an answer to what happened to all those new recruits who disappeared. 

[mimiplaysgames]

save it for the morning after (3/3)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: E (Explicit) for Smut Word Count: 7,850

Summary: Aqua learns the value of being vulnerable.Terra learns to trust his body to another. Everyone gets a happy ending. ;)

Read on AO3

A/N: AAAAHHHH Happy Terraqua Day!!!! I can’t believe I finally finished this one, it always felt like it would never happen. I’m actually quite nervous - I don’t take the same kind of path of other smut and being so deviant honestly freaks me out so much. I really do pull this story into extreme directions for smut, that I wonder if I can call it smut at all. But let’s see. Hope you like. <3

~*~*~*~*~

“Aqua.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“Go ahead.”

“....”

“Are you okay?”

“The... um, your scars...”

“They’re not yours.”

“Aqua—”

“They aren’t.”

“Please.”

“...They’re not yours.”

~*~*~*~*~

Well, damn.

Ven hones in on Terra—a ballsy move considering it’s a super-bad idea to get this close to a large opponent—but Ven skids, spinning on his knees and tripping Terra like a pet running through its owner’s legs. Ven serves an uppercut with his short Keyblade. It almost jabs Terra on the ribs if not for his lurch backward, and he lands squarely on his ass against the desk behind him. 

A pot of ink rattles and tips, spilling all over his pants and spreading up the spine of his shirt. 

Ven snorts. “You look like you shit yourself.”

Terra wipes his backside, picking up excess ink in layers. It’s slick, skating through his fingers with the weight of iron and dripping onto the floor. More of it runs between his legs, finding a way in between cracks and folds of skin, moistening up his boxers. Damn it. He slathers his hand through Ven’s hair with so much force (Hey!) that Ven waddles to stay in balance. 

“And you look like you’ve been picking through trash.”

Ink clumps chunks of blond hair together, drooling down Ven’s ears and staining his collar. It makes him look oily for lack of a better term, like someone who hasn’t taken a shower in weeks. When he touches his scalp out of reflex he flinches, wiping his coated fingers on his own shirt… before realizing what he’s doing. He groans. 

“It suits you,” Terra says. 

“I dunno.” Ven wipes the rest of it on Terra’s shirt. “Looks better on you.” Might as well. The shirt is honestly ruined. 

One corner of the offending desk is covered in globs of shiny black. Terra corrects the ink bottle and surveys the damage. The tile floor will be easy to clean, but the wood is inhaling the color. 

“Aqua’s going to kill us,” Ven mutters. “She spent a lot of time in this room.”

Weeks of time choosing which books to display on the shelves. Days researching the right chalkboard to purchase. Journeys spent gathering minerals for students to practice with: ash from a far away volcano, water from the forest river nearby, unearthed dirt from the garden, and feathers from nests settled at the peak of the tallest mountain. Aqua has a vision of this room playing the dual role of serving lectures and encouraging hands-on experimentation in a safe environment. She wants it to be respectable and impressive before the semester starts. They’re not allowed to traverse the room with shoes on, and Terra and Ven were respectable about that before one of them (Ven) started to get cocky about his fighting abilities. 

Yeah, they fucked up. “Think of it this way. We proved it’s not practical for physical training,” Terra says. 

“You’re the one who’s going to tell her that.” Ven scoffs, splaying a wet towel on the floor.

Terra pulls his suspenders over his head and lets them hang from his waistband. Pinching his stained muscle shirt off and bundling it up, he uses it as a rag to absorb the puddle on the table. What’s sinking into his socks is now warm. He ignores it.

“Do you think I could pull this off?” Ven asks as a by-the-way, twiddling a shy hand at the back of his greasy head.

“Black hair?”

“No, you’re right. It’s creepy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Pfft, you also ‘didn’t’”—Ven bookends the word with finger quotations—“spar fairly.”

Terra considers throwing his damp shirt at Ven’s face. “I’m not at my prime yet.”

“That’s not it.” Ven flips the towel and swipes the remaining streaks with the cleaner side. “You’re holding back. You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“I’m not holding back.” He is. Just the image of raising his Keyblade against either of his friends is enough to make him nauseous, but he swallows it to be a good sport. 

Giving it his all is something else entirely, a deeper, invasive illness. 

“I know you can hit harder than that.” Ven dunks the towel in a pail of water, clouding it. 

“I just have a lot in my mind and it’s hard to... relax, I guess.”

There’s a moment of pregnant quiet before Ven says pointedly, “I thought Aqua was helping you out with that.”

A moist squish slaps Ven on the nose.

“Now you’re being sensitive,” Ven says, pulling Terra’s shirt off his shoulder.

“You missed a spot,” says Terra, using his thumb to smear the stain across Ven’s cheek. For shits and giggles he continues upward, rubbing raccoon circles on Ven’s eyelids. “You really pull this off.”

“Do you annoy her this much?”

“She enjoys it.”

“Ugggh.” Ven throws Terra’s hands off of him, his chin tucked in so much that two layers of neck skin fold over. “Gross.”

Terra pauses. Gross wasn’t what he expected out of Ven’s mouth. 

In fact, Terra hasn’t been sure of how Ven took the news the first time. 

Oh, Ven had said when they told him Aqua was moving into Terra’s room. Okay. Cool. He shrugged as if he could have heard more exciting news, and left to take a short walk in the woods with Chirithy. The three of them never spoke about it again. Ven wouldn’t mention a word when he saw them dragging her dresser and vanity table, and seldom joined them if he heard them laughing together with the door closed. 

Things are changing in minute strokes, in seconds that cluster for as long as Terra can recognize them, until they dissipate and become something not quite foreign but never quite familiar anymore, as though where he comes from is far from home and who he thinks he knows are almost-strangers.

“Have we ever made you uncomfortable?” Terra asks. 

“What, no!” Ven waves his hand, feigning shock, staring at his shoes and everywhere else but Terra. “I mean, Aqua’s been Aqua since we got back, and you’re just weird sometimes, but—”

“Then why do you...” Terra sighs, choosing his words. “Avoid us when we’re together?”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

An almost-lie. “I hope you don’t think we don’t want you around.”

“Noooo. Neither of you make me feel that way.”

“But you do.”

Ven lifts his shoulders higher than his ears and drops them with the same weight as throwing books on the floor. “It’s just… nothing’s the same.”

Nothing is, what with the quiet mornings since the Master is no longer here to prepare breakfast before the sun rises, or huff at anyone when they disturb his meditation. Now they’re preparing the castle for the largest student body of Keyblade wielders it’s seen in years, something Terra thought would be a good distraction for everyone. 

But Ven’s right. Home doesn’t feel like home when the floors are re-tiled, and specific rooms are repainted, and the Master’s favorite lounge chair sits empty in the same spot in the library by the fireplace. Maybe for Ven, home is the turn right to knock on Terra’s door and the turn left to knock on Aqua’s. 

“It’s weird.” Ven grimaces. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m used to talking to you about things you promised to keep from Aqua—”

“I still wouldn’t tell her anything!”

“—and I’m used to it being the three of us.”

Terra pauses. “We’re still the three of us. We’re still best friends.”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” Ven says, smiling warmly. “You are one half of two. You share a language I can’t butt into.” 

Terra kneels onto one knee, brushing oily hair out of Ven’s face. Aqua would have liked this look on him: less spiky. “Ven, you’re always going to be a part of our lives.”

“Stop worrying. What you have is not a bad thing. I think it’s kind of awesome. I wish you’d give it your all in a fight. I wanna see what you and her are capable of together, because it’d be huge.”

“I’m only trying to say that we don’t want you to feel like a third wheel. You’re more than welcome to knock on our door anytime—”

“Ah. No. No thanks.” He shoos Terra away. 

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna see anything.” Ven squints.

Terra snorts. “You’re not going to see—”

“I don’t wanna hear about it either.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Ven covers his ears with his palms. “Nothing. No inside jokes. No pet names. Yuck. Keep that to yourself.”

Terra presses his lips together to zip up the snickering. “Okay, I won’t say anything.”

“Good. I don’t want any images in my head.” He wipes his hands like he’s done a good job explaining himself. “I should’ve expected it anyhow.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Ven says slowly. “I mean, the Master kinda knew.”

“He said something to you?” Terra asks with a shaky voice. He’s flipping through memories, when he and Aqua were very careful and very private, when they didn't touch each other in case there were witnesses near. He was so certain he’d suffer punishment if Eraqus ever found out. Lists of long essays about the dangers of being reckless with emotions every time Aqua made him laugh too much. Grueling physical regiments to knock discipline into his body every time he made bad decisions based on a tug between his legs. 

“I didn’t understand it at the time,” Ven says, leaning back on his hands and tapping his heels on the floor. “We were all hanging out, and you and Aqua left, and then he got sad.

“When I asked him what was wrong, he told me you guys created a very bright Light together. A Light bonded is a Light stronger, he said.” Ven mimics the Master’s lilts in speech, using his finger to emphasize points. “But be aware, Ven. Such a blinding Light casts an equally blinding, deep Shadow. What a dangerous force that is.”

It’s a good imitation. The ache in Terra’s chest twists into his guts and warms him at the same time, like a loving hug that squeezes too hard.

“Honestly it made me think you and Aqua were doing something you weren’t supposed to.”

“Maybe we were.” Terra’s throat constricts, his voice gravelly and his shame nostalgic. “We thought the same sometimes.”

“Which isn’t fair. Why can normal people experience that but it’s such a big deal if Keybearers do it?”

Because when you elevate the person you admire to a standard you can’t match, it makes you do stupid things. Aqua had followed him world after world, expecting it would eventually lead to a fight. Too many Keyblades in a friendship does no one good. 

To-may-to, to-mah-to. They did end up fighting, it just wasn’t his own Keyblade that inevitably hurt her. What a dangerous force that is.

“So the Master did not approve?” Terra asks.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ven rubs his cheek in thought, forgetting all about the ink. “He said your combined Light looked beautiful and warm. And that you’d have many nights where it would be enough when it gets hard... Honestly, he only wished that you keep your head on your shoulders.”

Wishes asked for are wishes granted, the Master used to say, so long as you work for them. The years Terra had wished for this exact approval had only left him with space to forge false hope. Nothing major, nothing long-winded. Just a simple, impossible wish as they placed the flower wreath on his memorial and bid their goodbyes. 

Finally, that wish is fulfilled. As Ven grants it to him, it’s hard to believe or accept, sitting on the floor of what used to be a ballroom, covered in drying ink. 

“Thanks, Ven.” Tears cascade down his cheeks, pretending to be inconspicuous. He wipes them with his clean forearm but he can’t keep up. There’s one for every moment in the last twelve years when he wanted to apologize to the Master, leaving his eyes burning. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop soon.”

“S’okay.” Ven tucks his ankles under, giving Terra time to process. Ven knows when a topic is too sensitive. But he can also tell when enough time has passed for the raw cuts to seal, when everyone’s ready to laugh. It’s his special gift. Only after Terra slows down does Ven lean forward. “Did you know you make this ugly face when you cry? You’re a train wreck.”

Terra yanks Ven’s head under his arm (Oomph, grunts Ven), locking his elbow around the neck.

Ven beats on Terra’s biceps. “Let go of me.”

Terra summons his pauldron, elbow pad, and gauntlet—for good measure. He licks salt from his lips and smirks, clutching Ven more, sinking him into the pecs. 

Ven coughs. “You smell horrible.”

“Nasty-horrible or heroic-horrible?”

“Do you make Aqua sniff your armpit? Let go of me.”

A poor mistake. Ven tumbles back when he’s let go, but he grabs Terra’s shirt before his head hits the floor. He punches it into Terra’s stomach so quickly that Terra isn’t allowed time to react or block, leaving a sprawled, black bruise over his abs. 

“Put a shirt on,” Ven says when Terra can’t rub it off. “Freak.”

~*~*~*~

Their bedroom door is ajar. Terra hears the shuffling of feet. He quiets his arrival, crumpling his messed-up shirt in a fist, and leans on the door frame to watch her. Aqua pulls a book out of a stack deftly with one hand, the other carrying a cheese pastry. She swallows a final bite, licking her fingers (something she’d never do in front of anybody else but him), and meditates on the chew before sitting at her desk. 

He likes her best like this: half-dressed, without her usual corset and sashes, down to nothing else except her shirt and shorts, simple and free. 

Her longest scar creeps out of her backless shirt. A snake, a reminder of the damage Keyblades are capable of: they never heal and barely fade. This is why wielders shouldn’t raise them against people. 

Gluing her attention to an open book, Aqua reaches over for more cheese pastry, but her hand meets a plate of crumbs. When she realizes, she snaps up, alert as if she’s been robbed, glancing over her shoulder for signs of movement. This is also something she would not appreciate anyone else seeing, how she’s afraid of being alone, how she’s paranoid that she’s actually not.

Terra steps in and taps her shoulder before she could ask him what happened to the pastry. “That looked delicious.” 

She blinks, slowly absorbing his words; she doesn’t feel well today, nothing to be ashamed of. Terra says nothing else. This way, he doesn’t bring more attention to the fact. He won’t touch her so she doesn’t feel coddled (despite how much he wants to). He won’t crack a dumb joke when there’s better moments for them. This way, she keeps her dignity. 

When Aqua sees the smears and handprints on him, her eyes finally find reality. “What happened to you?” She stands up and swipes the stain on his chest. It’s dry but not enough, leaving a mark of gray on her fingers. 

“An accident.” Terra clears his throat, trying to seem unbothered. Just another day in the castle. Everyone gets covered in ink, what’s the big deal?

If she hears the hesitation in his voice (and she should, she knows him too well), she doesn’t care, marching to their bathroom. The sink turns on. 

“What kind of an accident?” she calls. The water flow is disturbed. She’s washing her own hands first. 

“Eh, we spilled some ink,” Terra says, praying to the stars she won’t interrogate further. He tosses his ruined shirt into a wastebasket and opens the first dresser drawer for another. Gone are the days when Terra used to stuff his clothes into a heap; Aqua likes to fold every single article, his on one side and hers on the other. 

“What does that mean?”

“It’s fixable, I promise.” At least he hopes there’s some magic spell in some book somewhere that could lift ink out of cracks of wood.

He goes down one drawer for pants and it’s the same story. 

Down to the middle for socks and underwear, each tightly rolled. Tucked into the back of this one are two newly purchased books, their hardcovers wrapped in plain paper so that anyone peeking in couldn’t read the titles. Edited with illustrations of anatomy, they are lectures of techniques on what to try with your partner. Where to place your hands, how to play with your fingers and tongues, how to listen, when to take it slow and when to take it fast...

“Here,” Aqua says from behind him. She has a wet rag. It’s warm as she gently rubs it into his skin, across the spread of his chest. Her other hand is splayed on his hip. 

Just the thought of those books now, of slipping her out of that shirt, the stains on his stomach be damned—

“Am I going to get mad at you?”

Be damned. Terra smirks in a way to invite her to join along with him. “At both of us. But... You never stay too angry for too long so… Why worry about it?”

She pauses. “What are you rambling about?”

“Nothing.” He glances away. “It happened in the new classroom.”

She digs the rag into the groove above the diaphragm as if contemplating his vivisection. A stream of water drips over his belly button, into the hem of his pants, down the dips of his pelvis, between his inner thighs. Let her get mad. Be damned. 

“How bad is it?” Her voice is hard.

He caresses the small of her back, which is right now tense and stretched as she makes herself seem taller, like she’s about to take him on. “You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” She opens her mouth to say something and he kisses the bottom lip. “I’ll do the dishes for three months. That’s enough atonement, right?”

Aqua clenches her teeth into a false smile, nails now leaving divots on his skin. “And the cooking.”

“Sounds fair.”

“And the gardening.”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

She continues to clean him, this time rubbing harder. It leaves his skin lightly raw. “You’re not in any position to bargain.”

“Do you expect me to beg?” 

“Then beg.”

Terra would be lying if he says he doesn’t find this side of her hot. She’s a splash of freshwater that would bring him back from the brink. The woman standing in front of him chooses to clean him despite the shower being paces away. She’s the same girl who would plant an extra candle on his birthday cakes, for the year to come. To her, maybe it meant little or nothing. Stars, she’s beautiful, and he doesn’t say it enough. 

“You’re doing better,” she says, leveling her voice, nodding to herself as if checking her information. That’s Aqua. Putting aside her annoyance for the sake of making sure he’s taken care of. “You’re not flinching as much.”

Maybe. Her touch is absolutely making the hairs on his neck stand. It is absolutely driving his dick insane. “You know, Ven’s okay with us.”

She stops. “He said something?”

“Kind of. He doesn’t want to know or see or hear anything.”

Her eyes go wide. “Excuse me?”

“He never said he actually heard anything.” He kisses her temple and lets it linger there, taking the opportunity to inhale her smell. Even when she sweats and spars for hours, there’s still a sweetness. Terra laughs into her hair. “He doesn’t want to know nicknames, either.”

Aqua flashes him a look.

“Now we have to,” says Terra. “We don’t have a choice.”

“What should we use?” Aqua moves to his abs, fighting an amused smile that’s twisting its way to her lips. 

“Terr-able.”

“That one is awful. I think Terr-bear fits you better.”

“So you admit I’m big, strong, and scary?”

“I admit you’re adorable sometimes.”

Terra purses his lips. “What about you?”

She shrugs. “Maybe Aquamarine.”

“How about Aquafina?”

“That’s worse.”

“Babe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“We could call him Ven-tilation.”

“Stop.”

He follows his instinct to lower his head so when she laughs with him, their lips meet. They kiss everyday, but the first taste of the hour is always the one to discharge his breath, like he’s been underwater and she’s giving him the chance to surface. 

“You’re going to get me dirty,” she says, giggling into his mouth.

He moves to her neck. “A little mess doesn’t hurt anybody.”

It’s when he brushes his fingers across her back, skating over the scar, coiled like rose thorns, that he hitches. Across from them is her vanity mirror. The scar is still red despite its age of twelve years. He’s so stupid. 

“This again?” she whispers. She’s not upset but disappointed, though in him or in herself, he can’t tell. Moments like these are weird, when he can’t read what she’s thinking. Working on the straps on his left arm, she pulls off his gauntlet, finger by finger. 

“I wish you would tell me,” he whispers back, as if having the conversation at a normal volume would shake them up. 

She turns his bracer to make its removal easier. “I already did.”

“I wish you would be honest with me.” He leans his chin on her head, feeling her fingers slide down his arm. 

“I am.” She flicks a knob and slips off the couter from his elbow. “You want me to tell you it was you who did this to me,” she continues, unbuckling the pauldron on his shoulder. “But it wasn’t.”

“I know better.”

“I know better.”

“It was done with my hands.”

To that she says nothing, rubbing the rag down his exposed left bicep. Ink had run under the armor. Darkness seeps in even with protection. 

She sighs. “Promise me you won’t obsess over it.”

He really shouldn’t but… he nods.

Aqua hesitates anyway. Taking him by the wrist, she presses his right hand on the rib under her left breast. “This one was his.” She warns with her eyes. “Not yours.”

Terra can��t feel anything through her shirt. He slips it under, running the pads of his fingers across the bumps and ridges. This one was his, this one with the gnarly tear right through the middle of the scar tissue, a ravine rupturing open. This one would have been done by that nameless silver Keyblade, with its sharp, ornate frills and that giant hook at the tip of it. It would have caught her skin as it tried to disconnect her body from her heart. And Terra? He’s had so much to lose and nothing to give back.

Terra holds his Aqua close as he continues to read the scar, how deep the hook sunk in, how she must have dodged back and broke that connection. 

“Did it hurt?” he asks. 

She sighs like she finds something amusing. Or trying to. She shudders, closing what little is left of the gaps between their bodies. “The Realm of Darkness numbs everything. I don’t think I felt it much.”

The view from their window looks over blossoming fields under mist, what’s left of snow capping just the mountaintops, everything else green. She’s lucky. So is he, ridiculously enough. 

“I should have done more to stop it,” he says.

“You can’t continue to say things like that.” She swallows and stares at the wall. “What about the person I’ve become? I wouldn’t be here, standing in this room, now. It changed me. The Realm of Darkness did things to me that I’ll never be able to claim back. I will never be able to remedy it. I never wanted it, but I don’t know if I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t make mistakes, in case I got hurt. I couldn’t be vulnerable. I had to be brave.”

“You already are.” 

“And now I’m like stone.”

Terra presses his forehead to hers. “No, you’re not like stone at all.”

Aqua buries her face into his shoulder, anchoring herself to his waist. It’s so unlike her, to be unable to look him directly in the eyes. Whatever she has to say scares her. “You’re here, and I’m here. I give you my scars and you give me yours and… I don’t know if I would trade that for something else. For something that looks better on the outside. Every moment we shared since you woke up, how could I want to erase them? I need you, Terra. I have to chip away somehow. I’m braver now, to hold you like this.”

She says it like she has her chest cavity open, heart beating to open air. 

She’s brave for not crying. 

She’s brave for telling him what she can’t say right now. I’m braver now, to hold you like this. (I love you.)

He lifts her chin to kiss her. (I loved you first.) 

She drops the rag to hold his face. 

Before, their kisses were desperate, thirsty and famished, hoping to be found. Now, they’re deliberate, wandering but not lost. She tastes like sugar and flesh, her tongue inside with his, slow and careful. Their needs have more definition this time: please, and more, and yes, again. 

Terra indulges in the impulse to press her onto him. She should feel how greedy he is, her chest arched against his. She’s soft and he’s in love. 

“Where is Ven?” she says, breathless. 

“Probably showering,” he mumbles.

She waves her hand and the door slams shut. 

“I said probably,” Terra murmurs, but his mind turns off when she kisses him again. Who cares what Ven hears?

Aqua treads slower. She tempts Terra’s tongue to seek her out, puckering her lips around it and giving it a small tug. 

“Touch me, please,” he begs.

The sound of his pants unbuttoning makes his heart hammer, his entire groin anticipating for what’s next. When, when, when. Terra closes his eyes. Her hand glides down, palm first, his breath snagging when she wraps her fingers around his erection. His pants are at his ankles, Aqua is on her knees, and she presses a kiss right under the tip, where it’s most sensitive, before licking the entire length. Terra buckles. He catches the dresser behind him to keep standing. 

“Shhh,” she breathes onto him. It shoots a spark from his stomach to his scalp. 

Terra braces his teeth with his finger to shut himself up. He watches her work. She takes him in bite-size pieces, snail-tracking with her tongue before her lips close in on him. Fuck. She sucks while she pulls. Fuck. To see her like this, Master Aqua with poise, with grace, with affection and care—with him in her mouth. The hand wrapped around him squeezes tighter, and the other comes up to meet him at the testicles. 

He stifles another moan, staring at the ripples of the drywall, listening to the feathered tap of spring rain on the window and the noise she’s making. His erection twitches against the roof of her mouth, and he has to restrain himself from thrusting into her. Maybe he can let go and let be, finally throw himself off the cliff, ride the thrill all the way. Give it his all.

But he can’t. The moment gooseflesh spreads across his inner thighs, the moment he feels full, is the start. The floor will rip out from under him, the lights will go off, he will fall, he will lose all his fingers, he won’t remember anything, he’ll be the monster who makes her cry.

“I can’t,” he hisses, pushing her off. “I can’t.” He lurches over his knees, his insides twisting at the sudden cutoff, aching as it throbs and shrivels. He was so close. They were just laughing a few minutes ago. Stupid body, stupid mind. “Damn it,” he groans, pounding the dresser.

“Hey, you’re okay,” she says softly, holding him by the elbow. “You’re safe at home.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” He digs his eyes into his palm, his body faraway like it’s a glass vial with his soul dumped inside. “Help me.”

Without letting him go, Aqua braces him with something cold—the rag, now on his lower back. It slaps him back to the bedroom, his beige carpet, the mist outside clearing out to a view of a forest that separates the castle from the mountains. 

She greets him with a smile. “You really did something to yourself,” she says, cleaning him like it’s a lazy weekend day and there’s a list of chores. 

Terra straightens up, shivers riding all the way up to his shoulders. “It’s so frustrating.”

“Don’t worry, Terra,” she says, softer and lower. “There’s no need to rush. I’ll wait.”

“But I’m tired of feeling caged up and stuck. I just want some semblance of control.” 

Aqua kisses him on the shoulder to shoo away the haunting for a few seconds. “I’m here, anytime you need me. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

“No.” The rag is likely caked with ink, but its iciness is unlike the chill of clammy sweat a few seconds old. Every frigid touch is a reminder that he’s alive. “This is nice.”

Aqua runs the rag up his spine. “You know what I think? If we’re going to call each other pet names in front of Ven, we should have guests over.”

Terra snorts. “That’s evil.”

“He won’t be able to bark at us in front of other people.”

“I think I’m a bad influence on you.”

“I think you’re right.”

Terra sighs at her touch, cold at his neck, at his hairline. Like a light at the front porch in the dead of night, like hot tea on a sick day, she is what it feels like to come home.

She tells him, “Lean your head back a little,” and he obliges, letting her reach behind his ears. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, her hair frizzy, eyes blue and focused as she takes care of him. 

“I can still kiss you, right?” 

“You don’t have to ask.”

Tilting his chin down, he does. He braids his fingers into hers; from the rag they’re like icicles, and he brings them to his heart. 

They’re barely millimeters apart, but he’s still in that cage. If only he could be touched the way he needs. If only the lock trapping him inside the cage is brittle and easy to crumble. What if he tries to test it? What if he finds there is nothing at all? Stupid mind. What if there are several, each of them needing unique keys when he has none, no hope of ever knowing what real freedom is? Stupid body. 

Should he pretend? Should he try over and over, to slam his head against the bars each time? Should he submit, should he accept he will never have what he wants? 

Life has made him uneager to trust. But her lips have a deliciousness unmatched by anything he’s ever tasted, and he’s still a silly, stupid man.

“Let me try again,” he says, breathing deeply. “I want to make you feel good.”

She’s surprised. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

“It will make me feel better.”

“...Okay,” she says so modestly. Terra never figured out how to knock it into her head that he wants to give her everything, that he is so, so guilty.

He invites her into an embrace, growing desperate the more he detaches his mind. Her body, the curve from her waist to her hips. The brush of her body against his reminds him that while he is naked, she is not. He picks her up by the thighs. Lost in the momentum of deep kisses, he carries her to bed, straddling her on his lap.

She hums. “The… the sheets.”

Dry, messy layers of ink still track down his legs. He groans into her mouth. She’s grinding him, and while he really likes that, it makes it incredibly difficult to take her clothes off, one hand rising the hem of her shirt and the other deep under her shorts, cupping her ass. 

“Whatever, we can wash them later,” she says, lifting her arms up. 

Her bare breasts—stars, this is what it feels like to come home. 

“Kiss me,” she says, and he replies, nibbling down her neck, coming down to her breasts, where his lips and his tongue and his murmurs take in her nipples as they perk. Aqua stays quiet, leaning onto his shoulders. 

There’s something about her amazing body, the silk of skin draped over defined muscle, treasure and tenderness in his hands, that he’s needy for. Every time he tries to define what that means, his mind ceases to function. 

Xehanort tried to take it all away from him. If he lived, Terra would crush every tooth bloody. Damn him.

How dare Xehanort do this to him, lock him in this cage, keep him away from her? Damn him.

Why is he thinking about Xehanort?

“Are you okay?”

Terra is frozen, the nub of a nipple suctioned in his mouth. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He lets her breast go with a pop. “I’m redirecting.” Leading her to the mattress, Terra lowers himself into her arms, but he’s halted by a light kiss and a hold of his face.

“Do you need me to check in on you?” she asks.

“No.” He smiles, kissing her with all the hope that she psychically understands his body is about to burst open, if only from the lack of space for the appreciation he keeps nurturing for her. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

She nods, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You take your time.”

Oh, he will. No more interruptions. Focus on the smell of her skin, on the collarbone at the base of her neck. Right here, it makes her bite her lip. On the hollow between her breasts, the sound of her breath getting heavy. On the slight movement of her legs as she instinctively responds, spreading them, hooking around his. The buoyancy of her breasts in his mouth. The way she arches to push them against his face. 

Under that left breast is the scar, tightly knitted.

The purpose for living is for memories, not reminders. Do not linger. Do not think about the cage. Terra lightly kisses it and continues downward. 

Terra’s fingers glide down, a caress at the hips, a squeeze of her ass, running a mile of goosebumps as he bunches her shorts and panties and pulls them off. Her skin is streaked with fingerprints of gray, at most of the places he’s been. Aqua shivers as his lips brush the sides of her waist, as he traces his tongue and inhales the dips of her pelvis, as he loops his arms under her thighs, as he kisses her between the legs. She gasps. He licks from bottom to top, sucking on the clitoris once, then starts over.

Footsteps walk by outside their bedroom door.

Aqua jerks up. “Terra,” she whispers, warning him.

“Hm?” Stars, what now? “Here.” He grabs the comforter and throws it over her head. She chuckles as she wraps both of them in hiding. “Relax,” he whispers back. “He’s not going to hear anything.” Not that Ven opts to stay; his footsteps are already fading away.

He goes back to work, and hears her sigh—it’s loud enough to make him look up but too hushed to escape the sheets. Bottom to top. Again. Again. She cloaks the sound of her moans with the comforter plastered on her face. 

It’s her taste. It’s the softness and suppleness of the skin between her legs. The way she fastens her knees over his shoulders, how wet she is. Her reaction. When he tongues the inside of her slit, she jerks, chewing her lip hard enough to make it white. Master Aqua, with poise and grace, for her there’s only love and the way his tongue curls up. 

Her fist crumples the sheet—it holds her own breast, caresses her stomach down to rake through his hair and hold him there. 

“Don’t stop,” she breathes.

Stars, that did it. He’s hard again. He drapes his arms over her pelvis, using his fingers to open her up so he has more access to her clit. She bucks, and he holds her down. 

Her entire body trembles: the first sign that she’s running off her own edge. 

Terra strokes her, the outside lips, the tease inside, the puckering motions. She’s a sweet, musky taste he can’t compare to anything else.

Aqua throws herself back on the pillow. Her thighs crush his head, and she clamps her hand on her mouth like a topper. Her mewl shudders and stops, it heaves, it mumbles. The wave rises then crashes, and she finishes with a long sigh, a release, a settlement, a tempered peace.

It feels so good to listen to her. Terra rests his head on her hip and brings a hand to his erection. A little bit of freedom paid with a little bit of control. 

“I’m ready,” he says. “I need you.”

She hums in contentment, fixing the comforter so they’re completely covered and opening her arms to him. “Come here.”

Terra crawls over her, bracketing her body like he’s a fort, tethering her fingers to his and cradling her head in a protective halo with his arms. Aqua has to spread her legs wide to take on his thick waist, and she breaks her kisses with whimpers when he enters—she’s always more sensitive after he goes down on her. 

She’s warm and tight, oh stars. Massaging him as he moves inside her. Their bodies compress into each other, hers curled up to mold against the way he rocks his hips, as though the subtle air between would have split them up too far, as though he can melt into her when he pushes, their hearts only separated by muscle and bone. He plants a messy kiss on her cheek, exhaling and inhaling in rhythms opposite of hers, her breath loud against his ear, tickling his neck.

Here it comes again, the oncoming of the precipice where he has to step off. 

Fuck.

He can’t do it.

At the sprint towards the edge of the cliff, he skids and scrambles to hang by the rockface. Terra grunts, all his muscles seizing up as he holds his breath.

Aqua strokes his hair. “Do you want to stop?”

Of course not. “Give me a minute.”

“Remember, you’re safe.”

Terra nearly chokes. “I’m scared of losing control.”

“You won’t. You’re in control.”

In control. The intent to wring his fingers through the bars, a sleight of hand to balance the padlock like it’s on strings, turning it over and pulling it out of the latch. But Terra is no escape artist. 

Terra licks his lips. He’s not in danger. He should trust she’ll catch him when he falls. In her arms, there’s no safer place to be. He has to remember this. Shut that mind up.

“I want to continue.” 

She rubs his back. It’s soothing. “Tell me what you need.”

Terra smirks. “To get back in the mood.” He takes one deep kiss. “Entice me.”

Her insides squeeze him and he trembles. “How is that?” she asks.

“Do it again.”

She wraps her ankles over his back and squeezes. He hums into her shoulder. 

“Again.”

This time, she takes back her kiss.

“Don’t let me go,” he says, and she hugs him tightly. 

He starts slow. Terra leans on his elbows, bunching the comforter in his fist so it stays in place. She looks at him with half-lidded eyes, a healthy red blush, her mouth gently open, cast in the filtered glow of a secret, sweaty cocoon. This body he’s thrusting into, the lips he’s kissing, may the stars bless her. 

“Aqua.”

“You feel so good.”

She stole the words right out of his mouth, squeezing his hips again. 

“Oh,” he moans. It provokes him to thrust harder, deeper, feel her, feel her breasts bouncing under him, feel her moans coming from her throat, the desperation in the way she squirms with her hands. She massages his slick back, her nails digging in.

There. 

Let him throw himself off. Give it his all.

“Don’t let me go,” he repeats.

“I won’t.”

He throws himself off. It’s not the wind thrashing him all the way down. Instead it’s fire, a combustion of flames in his muscles as his entire body submits to its force, leaving his knees weak. A flash of white that blurs everything he sees, a hurricane that knocks his mind into a stupor, a delicious burn that slicks over his body, trickling embers on top of sweat, hot and cool, good and better, good and fucking good. Terra shoves his face into her shoulder to muffle the sounds of groans escaping him, shuddering as the climax picks up again, a body alight in an ignition that throws him out of any awareness. 

His eyes prick when he finally remembers where he is. Aqua is safeguarding him with a strong hold, keeping him in place with her. He sighs. The cinders that continue to radiate heat leave him with a hearth to wrap himself into, a happiness that he never thought he would ever feel again.

Aqua sniffs. She wipes tears onto his shoulder.

“We really should stop crying at these things,” he says.

She snorts, refusing to let her grip on him slack. “You did amazing. How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” he mumbles. Stars, wow. His arms can’t pick him up anymore but it’s a gratifying cloud to ride. He shifts his legs, alleviating the weight of his body. “A little weak.” 

She runs a hand on the back of his head, coaxing him to rest on her chest. “When did you know?” she asks, brushing hair off his damp forehead. “That you wanted to kiss me? You must have spent some time thinking about it before it happened.”

Terra smiles into her chest. Somehow, they’ve never talked about it. “Long after I knew I was going to marry you.”

He feels her laugh. “Is that so? I’m going to marry you?”

“You will.” He looks up at her grinning face. “I can see the future.”

She scoffs. “You can see my eyes rolling at you.”

“I knew before you did.”

“Prove it.”

“I was seven.”

“You’re older than me, that doesn’t count.”

“You asked me to have a tea party with you, but the one thing that bothered you most”—he brings up his hand, pinky out—“was that I wasn’t drinking my tea right.” He mimics the high pitch of a little girl’s voice. “Pinky out. Pinky out, Terra, don’t be a slob.”

She gapes. “I don’t remember any of that.”

With renewed will, he props himself up, leaning close so their noses touch. “I knew then. That early on.”

“Since when is this a competition?”

“Still the first to know.”

Aqua interrupts what she’s about to say, like she’s about to step into cold water. She’s having an epiphany. Vulnerable again, like she’s allowing him to cut her right down the middle. 

“I love you.”

She says it like the touch of a high note on a piano, a beautiful accident. 

He leans closer, lips to lips, whispering, “I still got there first.” 

She laughs into him. “I suppose, but I was the first to say it.”

“Then I’ll be the second,” Terra says. Like coming home, a shelter to withstand the downpour, that births life to the roots, that thunders, that opens for a clear day, he brushes her hair out of her eyes. “I love you.”

“Too,” she corrects. “You love me, too.” 

A knock on their door jolts them, like a hard punch to the stomach.

“Okay, Terra,” Ven says from the other side. “I thought about it and I’m trying out this knocking thing.”

Wrong timing. Wrong timing.

“I’m going to kill him,” Terra hisses, and against Aqua’s hushed chuckles, he throws the comforter off their bodies and announces, “Ven, we’re naked.”

The silence that comes after is as loud as the crash of a chandelier. Terra can feel Ven recoil, a tea pot at the verge of whistling. “I didn’t need to know that!” Terra is about to reply but Ven groans dramatically. “I AM NEVER GOING TO KNOCK ON YOUR DOOR AGAIN.”

Ven stomps away, and if the door was actually open, he’d slam it. 

Terra sits on his knees, pinching his nose. It’s hot in this room. He feels clogged again, back at the edge of the cliff. He wants to strangle Ven for dragging the moment away from him. “Great, I pissed him off.”

“Poor Ven.” When she sits up, Terra pulls her to him, sitting her on one of his thighs. “I can’t predict if he’ll ever get over that,” she says, balancing herself by hooking her arms around his neck. 

Terra presses his lips to her ear, whispering, “But I did predict that you wouldn’t stay mad at me for long.”

She slaps his bicep. “I haven’t seen what you’ve done yet. Don’t be so proud of yourself.”

“But I am.”

“You’re still a slob.”

Slobby as he is, Aqua hugs him dearly. Hold her, you never know when the dream will end. You never know when the cage takes you back.

“I don’t know if,” Terra says, “it will be difficult for me next time.”

“Then it may be difficult,” Aqua says, kissing his forehead. “But it will be okay.”

Hold her. Not passively. Not half-minded. Hold her tightly. Hold her in the quiet, undisturbed, uninterrupted.

A drop of hot liquid spills from between her legs and drips down his thigh, almost burning. When Terra looks down to see that it’s white, Aqua jumps.

“Oh,” she squeaks.

“Oh. That would be me.”

She squeals, hiding her blush. “I’m going to wash up.” 

“Such a slob.”

Aqua giggles, looking him in the eye when she rubs his chest. “Come with me?”

“Go ahead.” He kisses her. “I’ll catch up.”

If anyone told him twelve years ago that hope feels like a long day full of small conversations, the anticipation of cleaning a messy room, Terra would have considered that cynical. A sarcastic joke, the loss of the will to dream. 

Twelve years later, it’s the sound of the shower running that teaches him to look forward to the next day, when he wakes up next to her, when he prepares dinner with her, when he kisses her in the middle of the night and play all over again. Peace is a long-distance acquaintance, a pen pal that urges you to look at your day like a spectacle.

Terra leans back to twist the latch of the window open, letting the spring haze billow in. Much better, the room is cooler now. The sky is bluer somehow, the mountains as grand as a painting.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE GRANDMA'S RECIPE ❜

with Che ‘Taza’ Romero.

Request: Girl I want Taza love! I was thinking maybe Taza having a cook out at his place and his wife goes out with decorating and cooking. And one her favorite songs come on and she wants Taza to dance with her. I just love him❤️ Also your world is wonderful as always!

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.1k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist.

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The ranch is flooded by the smell of an old recipe of your husband's grandmother, Juana. His mother gave it to you four years ago and you haven't had time to use it, but after a long run for two weeks, you asked for some days off from the hospital to give him a surprise. She used to cook for him a meatloaf with corn, frijoles and onion, and sour cream on top of it. All around the house, anyone can hear one of your favorite songs ever that your mother used to dance with you called ‘Amor a la mexicana’ sung by Thalia. You're pretty excited for Taza finding out what's for dinner, praying to his grandmother when you put it inside the oven. You are sure that that woman would be very proud of you. As soon as you hear the door getting opened, you run out from the kitchen closing the door.

“Wha—What is that smell?”

“NOTHING!” Jumping into him, you cover his nose with a hand loudly laughing.

“Okay, okay!” He chuckles, impatiently looking for your lips, finally kissing you after two weeks separated.

“Bienvenido a casa, amor”. (Welcome home). You gasp inevitably, self-absorbed on every short kiss he spreads around your face. “I've missed you”.

“Shit... I did it too, mi vida”. Che is almost sobbing desperate, hugging you and sinking his tired face in your neck. “'Am gonna sleep like a damn baby tonight”.

“Yeah, but first…” You say pocking his nape with a forefinger to call his attention, making him raise his eyes again at yours. “I got a surpr— Actually there are two surprises”.

“How lucky I am…”

“You have…” Putting your feet back to the floor, you check the hour on the silver clock in your wrist. “Ten minutes. I will be waiting for you on the porch, but… You have to wear it”.

“What dirty thing have yo—”. He tries to ask, grabbing the black bandana in front of his eyes.

“¡Ay, ya! Solo úsala, ¿sí?” (C'mon! Just wear it, okay?). You complain narrowing your eyes, leaning over your toes to dearly kiss him, taking some seconds to taste his lips.

“A tus órdenes, mi amor”. (Under your orders, my love).

Watching him disappear from the living room, you wait to make sure that he's already in the bathroom, before coming back to the kitchen. Squatting down next to the oven, you open it to prick the meatloaf with a fork having a look of it. And by checking that it's clean and hot, you know the dinner is ready. So taking so much care and wearing two big and padded gloves, you take off the crystal fountain from it, placing it over a wood plan on the counter. It smells really good, hoping it tastes the same. Bringing the plank to the table at the porch, you cut two pieces, to serve them on the plates. Pouring out some wine on both glasses, before starting to wait for your husband.

“Okay, ready”. You hear behind you, making you turn over your steps.

“Com'ere”. Holding his hands, totally blinded by the bandana, you lead him to his chair.

“That smells really good, (Y/N)”.

“Sh, sh, sh”. You mutter sitting aside on his lap. Having a small piece and placing your hand under the fork, you guide it towards him. “Okay, open your mouth”.

He does, a second before eating it. You can see how he chews it, and how his look turns somewhat confused.

“Wha'?” You ask a little nervously, resting an elbow over the table.

Taza takes off the bandana at the speed of the light, swallowing and letting travel his eyes around him until finding the crystal fountain. You don't know if he's going to cry, or what, when he starts to pout at you.

“Shit, is it that bad…?”

Having a piece to taste it, you don't notice anything that couldn't be out of the recipe. But he keeps silent and you're starting to worry.

“Fuck, I destroyed your childhood”.

Getting up from him, you walk quickly to the kitchen to grab his grandmother's book, reading every ingredient in your way back to the porch.

“I followed every damn instruc—”.

“Who have… give you that?” He says frowning slightly.

“Your mother. Four years ago, when we went to the Reserve”. You just say. “I asked for three days off, so I could us— Che, are you… crying?”

Raising your eyes from the handwritten recipe, you find your husband sobbing, resting his cheek over the table and having another piece of the meatloaf. Just like a child would do. You could never think to see your husband crying. At least, not because of that. But if he continues eating, it's because he really likes it.

“Che…?” You mutter, closing the book and leaving it by a side. “You're scaring me, honey”.

“It tastes like my Grandma's, thank you...” He finally replies, with his mouth full of it. You know that he probably is going to drown with so much meat in it, but he's happy. “I've been… twenty years without… eating it. And it was my favorite dish ever”.

“Aw, cariño…” If you had known how much he could enjoy it, you would cook it before.

“Jesus Christ…” He just gasps finishing the dish in a blink of an eye, resting his back against the chair.

“You want more?”

“I want to marry you again”. Urging you to sit again on his lap, surrounding you with both arms, he fills your face with kisses. “How fuckin' lucky I am, mi amor”.

“Anything for you, baby”. Leaning towards him, you peck his lips with short kisses. “So… three days off, cooking those recipes. What do you say, ah?”.

“Fuck, yes”. He laughs nodding, while you clean some of his tears.

“Did you like the surprises?”

“Pretty much, mi reina. You're the best”.

All the nerves you have felt since you took off the book from your hiding place have disappeared when you see your husband serving more meatloaf on his plate. He's useless to lie, so you know that he's really enjoying it. And after a long dinner, talking about the trip and about your days in the hospital, you pick up the dinner stuff to continue your talk laying on the hammock; until your phone starts to play again the song you have been hearing since early evening.

“Ven, baila conmigo, mi amor”. (Come here, dance with me, my love). He beams holding one of your hands to pull you closer.

“Look how happy you are…” You tease him, surrounding his neck with both arms, while your bodies begin to move perfectly in tune under the latin rhythm.

“Since the day I met you”. He says making you spin around holding one of your hands, spellbound on the way your hair dances on air. “I couldn't love anyone more than I love you, mi amor”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Shutter to Stutter

Summary: By far, Ven’s got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 8 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player] 

Rating: K+ (mild cursing)

Word Count: 2,062 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

Ven couldn’t remember the last time the flower shop had this much activity to it. At least, in terms of what they did for their billboard ads. Most of the time it was some seasonal flower with witty text advertising the store. Apparently this time, someone had requested something a bit more ‘personal.’ Which meant that they needed models this time around. Sabrina was a shoo-in; her face more than once gracing the billboard on I-02. But this time Luca was also being brought in. The two were to pose as if Luca was giving Sabrina a sunflower, and at the moment, the toddler wanted to do anything but.

It probably would have helped if the space wasn’t so overwhelming. Literally everyone was here. Lauriam had gotten a full camera set up- two large lights, a tripod, and his DSLR he usually used for some horticulture club he was in. Brain was his assistant, of a sorts, helping with adjusting the lights every now and again. Strelitzia -and surprisingly, Elrena- was there to do Sabrina’s make up for her. (Luca had been lucky to have Anora’s darker skintone, leading him to not be as washed out as the paler Sabrina.) Since their child was being exploited, of course both Ephemer and Anora were there to coax him to cooperate. And then there was Skuld- pretty much directing everyone, and likely not helping in Luca’s resistance.

No one had really asked Ven to help with this project, so he sat behind his counter to continue being invisible. Although he did wonder- was he still getting paid for this even though he wasn’t directly helping? This was still his normal shift, after all.

“Luca, look here.” Ephemer coaxed his child from behind Sabrina. “Look over here!”

Luca refused to acknowledge his parent. Instead he made do with picking off the petals on the sunflower with rather impressive pinches. It was less impressive when a strand of the toddler’s hair got into his face, and he used his whole hand to wipe it away. He didn’t even bother to look up when Anora started to shake what Ven could only assume was Luca’s favorite toy. The poor thing rattled not far from Sabrina’s face. No envy was lost as Sabrina’s face grew incredibly dark at the annoyance of having Ephemer verbally calling his son, while Anora rattled a toy on the other side. At this point, even if they could get Luca to remotely look Sabrina’s way, it was going to take another five minutes for her to look close to pleased again.

Brain knew his sister was pushing her limit because he gently pushed his way over to Skuld just to suggest, “Maybe we should try something different?”

Skuld looked at him like he gained another head.

“No.” she said to him with a shake of her head.

“So you want Wabi-Sabi to go Hulk when Ephemer calls for Luca again?”

“She’ll be fine.” Skuld snapped. To further prove a point, Skuld shouted at Sabrina, “Sabrina! You’re doing fine with Ephemer and Anora behind you, aren't you?”

Sabrina gave Skuld a glare so dark, it sent a chill up everyone’s (or, at least the people who happened to be looking at her at the time) spine. Skuld didn’t seem phased.

“Hey Sabrina,” Lauriam then spoke up from behind his camera. “Can you look over here for a moment? Cross your legs a bit too?”

Hate turning into an expression of mild confusion, Sabrina turned her body a bit to better face Lauriam. She crossed her legs and sat a bit straighter. Lauriam checked his camera’s viewfinder for a moment before several shutter snaps could be heard.

“Perfect.” Lauriam nodded. “Thank you.”

“Lauriam, stop taking boudoir photographs of my sister.” Brain teased as he went back over.

Lauriam actually looked rather offended at the idea. “I'm pretty sure these photos are taking themselves, Brain.” he informed his coworker. “My finger's not even on the trigger.”

“You have a remote.” Brain nonchalantly pointed out.

“Do I?” Lauriam looked down at his hand. Sure enough, there was a remote there. He looked up at Sabrina who was trying to scoot Luca back so they could maintain the agreed distance. Lauriam didn’t look away as he took another photograph, using the remote to trigger the shutter. He once more looked down at his hand in wonder before saying, “So I do.”

The duo shared a hearty laugh. The sound irking Sabrina’s nerves again as she also gave them a death glare. She was perfectly ignored for the time being. Every now and again, Lauriam still pressed the shutter button on the remote, even if nothing of substantial use was going on. He was going to end up with a lot of junk photos later, but he had always preferred to overshoot for that reason. If none of them had the particular vision Skuld was looking for, then surely there would be something that could suffice. There had to be.

Meanwhile, sitting by the main counter where Ventus was trying not to be seen, was Strelitzia and Elrena. Strelitzia was humming a little tune to herself as she watched over the main chaos.

“I wonder why Luca isn’t paying that much attention to Ephemer or Anora.” she casually wondered, placing a hand against her cheek. “He’s usually so attentive when they’re around.”

“Humph.” Elrena grumbled. “You know what they say, just like with dogs and cats; babies can sense evil.”

“Explains why he won't go near you.” Ventus hissed under his breath.

Both girls immediately looked at Ven- Strelitzia looked partially amused, while Elrena’s face could almost rival how irate Sabrina was. Elrena immediately slammed her hand down on the counter.

“Listen here, Roxas,” Elrena said, emphasizing the wrong name because she knew he didn’t like it, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently, but I’m not liking this bold streak you think you have going on. It’s not impressing anyone.”

“You wanna bet?”

Ventus, Elrena, and Strelitzia all turned their attention to Sabrina. She was sitting up straight and giving Elrena a particularly hard glare. Every other sound in the flower shop came to a grinding stop. (Spare for a few camera clicks, but at this point it was out of habit.) Seeing Sabrina defend Ventus made Elrena laugh.

“And what are you going to do?” Elrena challenged.

“Elrena.” Lauriam warned. She just as easily ignored him.

“‘Oh, look at me, Miss Independent.’” Elrena taunted. “‘I don’t care about anyone until I suddenly do. Oh, woe is me, being a cold hearted bi- I mean, witch, there’s a child present, I suppose- is just exhausting. It’s everyone else’s fault but mine. Oh woe!’”

Sabrina got up from her spot so quick, Brain nearly tripped over Lauriam’s tripod just to make sure his sister didn’t go straight for Elrena’s face. But she didn’t have thoughts of smashing the electric blonde’s face in just yet. Strelitzia had moved just as fast to take hold of Elrena’s elbow. Her grip was tight- a nonverbal warning that her friend needed to dial it back soon. But the shots had been fired, and neither one of them were going to let it go unattended.

“Brain, let go of my arm.” Sabrina hissed to her brother, not letting her gaze waver from Elrena. “You guys can keep going with the photoshoot, but there’s something I need to tell her a bit more privately.”

“You’re not leaving the shop to do it.” Brain told her.

“Of course not.” she spat- perfectly paired with a roll of her eyes.

“Luca will probably sit still for the camera better with her gone too.” Skuld spoke up, as if she wanted to remind everyone on why they were here today. “Lauriam, can you make it happen?”

“Of course.” he agreed. He took a look at his sister, giving her a stern glare meant to communicate that she needed to leave with Elrena soon. Strelitzia’s face paled a bit, but she gave a nod to show she understood.

With that, Brain let go of Sabrina’s arm. She very carefully walked around the photography junk to stand right in front of Elrena. Ventus could feel the air on the back of his neck stand up. There was a fury in Sabrina’s eye that he couldn’t tell if he admired or feared. He would have left to further give the girls time alone, but something kept him rooted in his spot. Everyone else returned to trying to take a good picture of Luca holding up a flower.

“You know, Elrena,” Sabrina started to say, “We’re a lot alike- you and I.”

Hearing this, Elrena stood a bit straighter. Ven tried to hold back the urge to shout that they weren’t. Sabrina gave them enough time to consider the idea before she continued.

“We’re both rather harsh to people we don’t like. Quite frankly, I don’t think we have ever liked each other. Sometimes, it’s very gratifying in just watching the world burn. You know what I mean?”

“Pssht. Yeah.” Elrena snorted. “Some people just deserve it.”

“And that’s where we differ.” Sabrina mused, taking another step toward Elrena. “You keep hiding. You keep hiding every little thing until you’re desperate. It’s not even a matter of holding your cards close- you literally can not let anyone in. People always ask who hurt me, but do they ask the same about you? I know where I fucked up in life, but do you? At least I’m able to admit that I like the person standing two feet away from me. By way, Ven? Last week? That was my first kiss. Great job.”

Ven immediately looked down, his face flushing a deep red. The black haired, brown eyed bitch smirked at the reaction. It became malicious when she looked back at Elrena.

“Have you kissed the person standing two feet next to you yet, sweetie?” She turned to look Strelitzia dead in the eye before asking, “Has she?”

For a moment, Strelitzia didn’t know how to respond. “Elrena doesn’t…” she tried to say, but she wandered in looking at Elrena’s face. The electric blonde’s face was a shade of red that it rivaled the ripest of apples.

“You- you just can’t say that!” Elrena spat. “You don’t know-”

“I may hate people, but I know them. But if I’m wrong, then kiss her.”

Elrena looked like she wanted to throw up.

“S-Strelitzia,” she then stammered. “We need to go now. You’re my ride home.”

“Yeah…” Strelitzia slowly nodded. “Let’s go.”

Strelitzia started toward the front door without a second thought. She paused at Lauriam to tell him something, (something he did not look pleased about at all) before leaving the building altogether. Elrena remained in a deadlock with Sabrina.

“You’re a bitch.” she told the dark haired girl.

“Have to be,” the reply came, almost as pure and simple as day. “How else will the person I like know I actually do like them?”

Elrena pursed her lips together. She tried to storm out, but the attempt still seemed rather half hearted at best. Sabrina casually watched her leave as she leaned against the counter. She refused to look at Lauriam. She knew he was giving her a heated glare.

Ven leaned forward on the counter just to whisper at her, “You’re insane.”

Sabrina moved enough to give him an over the shoulder stare.

“And yet, you’re the one that kissed me.” she mused, rather triumphantly. “Guess that makes you just as bad.”

“It was one kiss.” Ven tried to say in his defense. “Didn’t have to mean anything.”

“No, no it didn’t.” Sabrina quietly mumbled. She got off the counter and took her spot back in front of the camera equipment. Her expression was hard as she told her brother that things were fine. She even told Lauriam that she didn’t mean to put Strelitzia on the spot. But then she went back to modeling like nothing had ever happened. Right down to being slightly annoyed at the parents on either side of her trying to get their kid’s attention.

Ventus hummed as he rested an elbow on the counter, then cupped his face into his hand. Only one thought entered his head as he watched the photoshoot, and it was one that sent butterflies to his stomach.

She is amazing.

[venusandromedadjarin]

New Partners

Ch. 1, Mi Cielo

18+, oral! sex, fem! sex, lgbtq reader/oc, language, smoking, canon timeline, 1.3k words

The Texas humidity lingers in your small apartment despite the fact that the sun set hours ago and you undress as the woman from the bar watches you. She sits on your bed, her elbows resting on her jean clad knees as she eyes your breasts, biting her lip. As your dress drops off your hips and slithers to the floor, she flicks two fingers at you, commanding you to join her on the bed, “Ven aquí hermosa.”

Once you’re standing between her knees, she slips her hand up your thigh until she sinks two fingers inside you. The same ones she beckoned to you with. You groan, tangling your fingers into the long hair at the nape of her neck as she bites at your nipple. She picks up the pace, curling her fingers against a spot that is already making your knees weak, her mouth never leaving your breasts. You know there will be bruises tomorrow. 

Just when you’re about to cry out her name and beg her to keep going, you realize you don’t even know it. “Fuck,” you moan out, suddenly picturing someone else in front of you with his fingers in your pussy. The mere thought of him rubbing your clit, instead of this random woman from the bar, makes you come undone. You vaguely feel her arm come up and wrap around your waist, supporting you as you sag against her. As you lay back on the bed, head reeling from the orgasm, she undresses and you watch as her nipples perk up as the fabric of her shirt falls aways from them. 

She probably doesn’t know my name either, you think before her mouth is on you, licking and biting and pushing you into another orgasm within moments.

The rest of the night fades into late morning as you both cum over and over, but the thought of intense brown eyes never leaves your mind. 

————————————-

Javier Peña stands with his hands on his hips in the parking lot, waiting impatiently for his new partner. Well, one of his new partners. All he knows is that the other should be there tomorrow. “Javier?” A tall blonde guy holds out his hand, waiting for the slightly shorter man to shake it. He finally does, putting out his cigarette.

“Javi. I’ll show you around,” he doesn’t wait for the blonde to follow him as he jogs up the steps towards the DEA headquarters. Inside, he leads the other man down some dingy hallways before entering a smoky office. “Murphy, this is Weaver and Wisnicki. These guys are R.I.P. ‘Retired in Place.’”

The stout guy leaning back in his chair looks annoyed, “Eat me, Peña.”

Javi ignores him, “Paid vacation’s over fellas. Murphy and I are going to Medellín. We’ll telex the T-3 reports. They go straight to Washington.” 

Murphy catches Wisnicki flip Peña off as he follows him towards their desks but Javier stops as his phone begins to ring, waving the other man forward, “Hola, Peña.” Steve waits a few feet away, anxious to get started but scared to piss his partner off by rushing him. He’s slightly shocked by how still Javi goes as he sits in the edge of the desk, “Y/n? Are you fuc-“ He cuts himself off, looking towards Steve before switching to Spanish and continuing. “Me estás maldito bromeando. No puedes llamarme a mi trabajo después de no hablar conmigo durante meses.” 

Steve stares at him, only catching “fuck” somewhere in his rant and suddenly annoyed that the man is obviously going to shut him out. He drowns the rest of the conversation out, making himself busy by studying an evidence board near by. After a few more minutes of hushed arguing, Javi slams his phone down on the desk. He starts walking towards the hallway, pausing briefly for Steve to follow. 

��We are going to Medellín?” Javi stares at him like an idiot before ducking into another room. 

“Jarheads… this is Murphy. Murphy, this is Mil Group. They advise Colombian military on communist threats in the countryside.” He picks up a folder, thumbing through the papers inside. 

“Hey, those are classified,” a guy lurches forward but Javi is quicker.

“Now they’re declassified.”

“That’s the ambassador’s call.”

Javi nods, “No problem,” and moves to hand the folder to the officer before pulling it back and flinging it down on the desk. He motions towards Steve to follow him to what the blonde can only guess is the ambassador’s office. 

————————————

You knew the call to Javi wasn’t going to go over wonderfully, but you didn’t expect him to be that pissed. Granted, he was probably still mad you didn’t move with him down to Colombia originally. At the same time, he cheated on you so does he actually have the right to be pissed? 

The static that comes out of the radio startles you enough to look up at the clock, “Shit!” You quickly undress while making your way to the bathroom before starting the shower, hissing at the fact the water is still a bit cold when you climb in. Your mind reels from the night before, from the call, from the thoughts surrounding this stupid party Val insists on throwing at the bar. You know your friend means well, but you still can’t bring yourself to be excited. You shave quickly, already planning multiple excuses to use to leave early, the best of which being the 9 hour flight you have in the morning. 

The speaker by the door crackles and you rush to buzz Val in, mentally preparing for the inevitable tirade of questions that’s going to follow. Sure enough, she’s bursting through the door a minute later, a mischievous grin on her face. 

“Nena! Did you call him?” You laugh a little at her nickname for you, suddenly aware that you don’t know the next time you’ll hear her call you that in person. Waving her back to your room, you walk into the closet as she sits down on the bed. 

“It’s why I’m running late. I called,” you let out a low whistle as you dig through your clothes. “He wasn’t happy.”

“Obvio. Y/n, we knew he wouldn’t be. But did you tell him you’re his new partner?”

Your dark haired head peaks around the door frame, a scowl on your face, “Honey, we didn’t even get to that part.” Val rolls her eyes, obviously not surprised. She pushes into the closet with you before grabbing a red dress and holding it to your shoulders.

“This one. Come on, I’ll do your hair,” her voice is a little softer but you can tell she has more to say. 

“Val… Am I doing the wrong thing? Accepting this job?”

She looks at you in the mirror as you sit down at the vanity, her gaze sharp. “You’re a DEA agent who is going to help catch Pablo fucking Escobar.” She pauses, brushing your hair as you start applying makeup. “Nena, when you get down there, the Javi stuff will figure itself out. But this is your career. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Claro. You’re right. Fuck him.”

“Maybe don’t fuck him right away.”

The two of you burst into laughter, forgetting for a moment that you’re about to be running headfirst into a literal war. You’d have plenty of time to think about it tomorrow, tonight was about dancing and drinking. 

————————————-

As a voice comes over the loudspeaker announcing that your plane is boarding, you glance down at the envelopes under your arm, ready for the long flight ahead of you and the time it’ll provide for you to get acquainted with Steve Murphy’s file. The way the voice echoes through the airport makes you cringe, the hangover lingering longer than you had hoped it would. 

Part of you wishes you had gotten to tell Javi, another part of you wonders if the Ambassador told him. She was definitely aware that there was history between you two, and she even asked you about it the last time you spoke on the phone. It was plastered all over both of your files. 

Settling into your seat, your nerves get the best of you and make your thoughts spiral even more out of control. It’d be a long 9 hours. 

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Care

Troy:

There's not a lot that The Leech can't warp in his hollow, empty head and turn into something awful. He finds it desperately hard to take gestures of kindness at face value. They will be rolled around and around till they end up as mockery, or being used for personal gain, or sycophancy...

But he can't do that with something simple like being thought of. Just being thought of by someone he cares about and sees as having value.

He'd never tell them, wouldn't know the words to anyway, but stupid, subtle, tiny things matter more to him than anything else. They mean more than millions in sponsorship gifts, donated luxury cruisers. He's deaf to the worship of billions, but he's saved an ecom message from Eli pinging him at 3am with a link to a vid on sitting posture and lumbar relief he saw and thought Troy might like.

Ven doesn't know that he's got a sugar packet from two years ago stashed in the box inside the side wall panel of his bedroom -  the one with the old DeLeon patch coat and the gun - because it had come with a coffee Ven had grabbed for him from the undermarket before arriving to go through deal proposals with him one night.

 "You take cream, right? Thought you'd need this as much as I did, cold tonight, huh boss"

The quiet awkwardness after JK finishes a training round with him in the barracks isn't due to frustration or embarrassment, he picked up on it - on the focus towards his right, the stance tips and gentle guidance of heavy hands shifting his arm into a position that defended his ribs. He's not stupid, he notices.

Sei, those messages he never replies to? The reminder every couple of months that she sees him, she's there if he needs her, it's down to him to do the right thing and he's capable of it? All read, over and over, for years.

Tyreen:

When people really listen to her. That's how she knows it's more, more than following a rule or showing fealty. People who REALLY listen ask questions back, they look at her in the eyes, they care about what she's saying not that it's her saying it.

It's so rare as time goes on and she really does only have herself to blame. Cultivate being a monster and people will fear you like one, but every now and then, Tyreen comes across someone she can almost think that in another life or at another time - could be her friend.

It's usually someone not fully aware of what exactly she is. Someone who thinks the title, the cape and crown, are more for show than actual symbols - but that's fine when it means they look at Tyreen and listen.

It's so uncommon she gets to really have conversations. It used to be all the time! Her, Sei, Troy, shit talking all night sometimes. Ven in the first couple of years could toss back easy banter, would listen with a tilt to his head as she chatted half seriously about a tentative mix of things as she tested the water. Seeing what he'd bite at. What he'd respond to, if it would only be work or would he.. actually care about the drops that were her. The shows she mentioned, the racer circuits she was considering sponsoring. She'd been so happy when he'd started responding back.

But that doesn't happen anymore, not with Sei, not with Ven, and barely if ever with Troy - his eyes still light up and that stupid fucking smile splits across his crooked face when it does, but she just can't get into the flow now. She tries but. The words just.

When she talks, when she tries to really talk and hope someone will listen the way they used to, to Tyreen, the words just come out so horrible. She doesn't mean to be cruel.

But it happens anyway.

And she hates it.

Seifa:

Being confided in is a huge point for her when it comes to really feeling valued and cared for by someone.

Honesty has a high price, it's a little window past someone's defenses and to their underbelly, some people weaponise it - purposefully provide far too much sensitive information about themselves as a way to force the person they want to create a bridge with into feeling falsely bonded to them, and she's learned to eagle-eye that from years of running deals. That's not real. That's fake.

But it's real when Ven makes those half joke half painful references to how hard things have been for him, them. Subtle drops in tipsy banter late at night about childhood behind white walls, fear for Eli, how sight past sight really feels.

It's real when JK tells her those stories that are half Bandit cant. How she does her best to understand but can still see in the disappointed slope of their shoulders they know she isn't grasping the way they wish she could, and the way their warm chuckle reassures her it's fine, and they are just happy she's trying in the first place.

It's real when Tyreen asks questions that aren't questions at all. "You ever wish you were born someone else?" The way she doesn't make eye contact as she picks at her nails and lets Seifa's carefully chosen words blanket her in comfort afterwards, aimed at wounds that can't be seen.

It's real when Troy just goes quiet some nights, slumps forward exhaustedly and rests his head in mismatched palms. He doesn't have to say things to confide - the pressing weight along her side as he leans subtly against where she sits next to him is enough, heart open and welcoming the arm she curves around his back.

She feels more wanted and loved when friends ask for this kind of comfort than she does facing tens of thousands as they grovel.

Ven and Eli belong to @hieroglyphix​ and JK belongs to @godkingsanointed​

Asks are open!

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.10

...and Drink It with Gusto

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve’s a bit difficult (poor baby), not that anyone blames him. Sam Wilson makes a confession – sort of.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanism, sad sad Steeb

A/N: dropping the chapter early, because I won’t have time to post for a bit

Story masterlist

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The mission hadn’t been a shitshow, surprisingly enough, but the reports to Fury had been. Natasha had spent the rest of the day, whole night and a better portion of the next day at the SHIELD HQ, having to deal with everything, because Stark had quite literally fled. To be fair, he had at least taken care of Steve’s still unconscious and very much muscular (read ‘really fucking heavy’) form.

Tired and annoyed, Natasha finally landed with small jet at the Tower, making her way to her room, wishing nothing more but to shower and get some fucking sleep.

Of course, walking through the common room, she should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

She heard his icy yet somewhat cheery voice before she even saw him and it made her stop in her tracks, dreading facing him. She was too tired for his reproaches now.

“AH! There she is!”

Natasha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and mentally counting to three.

“Here’s ‘ur soulmate ex-pert!” Steve howled again, making her heart clench.

Black Widow was not a coward, but neither her nor Natasha liked dealing with feelings too directly – the jet was enough to get her fill for several years prior. She scanned the room before she would settle on him – and sure enough, she and Steve weren’t alone.

Bruce was standing indecisively by the door, torn and helpless expression on his face, his eyes one big question mark, asking Natasha how the hell he was supposed to deal with that.

Good question, Bruce, good question.

The smell of booze and Steve’s demeanour were unmistakable, but she silently asked anyway.

“Is he…?”

“Yeah. He… uhm… he found Thor’s stash,” the scientist answered her in equally hushed voice, inconspicuously pointing towards the counter where three flasks lay, emptied. Jesus.

Steve apparently heard and saw them anyway, because his voice bellowed again in reaction to their conversation. His words were slurred.

“Goooood friend Thor. Thou’ he t’ied to take my g’l. Nooot a g’d friend. Baaaad, bad friend.”

“Oh bozhe moy…” Natasha whispered under her breath and Steve turned to her, looking almost excited to see her.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t look like absolute shit. He had a t-shirt stained with the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed, bruise-like dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for a year.

She hadn’t thought he could get worse than in the quinjet. Clearly, she was wrong.

“’tasha! Greeeeat ‘dvice you gave me,” he exclaimed, trying to rise from his spot on the couch where he had been half-lying like a dead fish casted ashore.

Natasha resisted the urge to massage her temples as the headache started to build. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the audible edge to his voice, the accusation glaring at her from his eyes.

“Steve…”

He finally stumbled to his feet and she noticed another flask secured in his right hand. He held it out as if he was pointing at her.

“Tried wat’ you s-said. Hurts,” he hiccupped, the sound blending with a sob. He cleaned his nose with the back of his hand hastily. “S-saw her grave. Fuck it hurts…  ‘dis thing’s good ‘ough.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. She didn’t need to call anyone for advice now. Her friend was shitfaced. The only thing she could do was to get him to bed and try not to antagonize him or trigger something worse than… whatever this was. She wasn’t sure if moving on from being snowed under work – voluntarily – was more or less healthy than drinking himself into oblivion. But she counted any change that wasn’t a step towards a suicide (possibly assisted by the last of Hydra goons) like a progress.

“Is he drunk?” Tony’s incredulous voice ringed from the doorway and Natasha didn’t even bother spinning on her heels to him, hearing him enter and close the distance between them as he stopped at her side. “Cap?”

Blood froze in Natasha’s veins and she was swift to call out, but it was too late. “No- don’t call-!”

So much for not triggering him and making it worse. She could see how he suddenly stood straighter as if he swallowed a wooden ruler, and an indefinable expression appeared on his face.

She gulped in anticipation of a storm.

“Cap!” he called out, mimicking Tony and the billionaire realized his mistake, judging by the silent dammit that left his lips. Steve raised the flask in a mock toast, turning around and nearly tipping over his feet. “Captain ‘merica! What a heeero! Cheers to him!” He took a long sip before continuing, his gestures animated. “Swin’ in, safe th’m all! Kill his g’l, why ‘ven care… hero, murd’r, potato, tomatho…” his voice slurred into a murmur, until he spotted a newcomer and came to life again. “Ah! Hey, Clint!”

Clint was quick to understand the situation and it took one glance at Natasha for them to agree what needed to be done. He approached Steve cautiously with his features emotionless.

“We should get you to bed-“

“Nope! No!” Steve howled instantly, taking several steps backwards to get out of Clint’s reach. His expression was dark, tears welling in his eyes. “Smell like h’r. Not ‘nymore. Hurts!” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, his figure swaying dangerously as he closed his eyes and lost the visual control of his balance. “Hurts!”

“Come on, Steve…” Clint coaxed him gently, attempting to close the distance between them again. His gaze flickered to Bruce and Tony and they took few steps towards Steve as well.

“Nope! Gotta-ta sssay sm’thin’!” Christ, Natasha had never seen him like this and she wanted to bleach both her eyes and ears. He pointed the flask at Clint resolutely. “You knew. You warn h’r. Fuck-fuck up. Shouldva told- I ain’t gettin’ killed. I kill h’r.”

“Steve…” Natasha approached him as well, grimacing when she saw the flash of emotion on Clint’s face.

Steve spun to her immediately, this time accusing her. “And you! Gooood job. Pushin’ us togthe’. You kill h’r too.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Tony snapped at him, running out of patience, but Natasha knew Steve didn’t quite mean it. Pushing them together wasn’t her fault – the fact she had tranquilized him was her sin and she was aware he had the right to be mad at her.

“Your friggin’ ‘stem! You too- n’t fly fast ’nough!“

“Steve, you’re wasted. You’re going to bed before you say more things you regret,” Bruce said calmly after Steve managed to finish his roll and blame another person.

Bruce speaking up gave the captain a pause and he looked like his brain froze. His brows knitted together and he nodded, another sob erupting from his throat, his inhale shaking his whole being as he crossed the distance to Bruce, murmuring.

“Regert. Her. My folt, no yours. Kill h’r. Miss her. Shouldva s-s-saved her. Pick h’r… love h’r. Hurts. Hurts s’much…”

Steve’s large frame enveloped Bruce, resting his whole impressive weight on him. The scientist was nearly tripped over – except a hint of green flushed his neck, Hulk coming to rescue before the other men and Natasha rushed to help. Steve went completely limp, the flask falling to the ground, the little liquid remaining in it spilling and staining the carpet. No one cared as they tried to support the supersoldier’s goo-like body, exchanging desperate glances.

“Well, that was… enlightening,” Tony summarized, his poor attempt at joke that not even he apparently believed in barely gaining any reaction.

Clint sighed. “Please, this is hardly any news. We knew he blamed himself.” He readjusted Steve’s arm he had slung around his shoulders and Tony’s right side of suit came to the rescue, taking most of the weight off from the billionaire. “I hate this, but I think he needs this.”

Natasha wasn’t so sure about that, but yeah, Steve definitely needed to start accepting the reality. It was probably a natural reaction to want to dull the pain with something else when work was off limits. She pressed her lips together as their whole grouped slowly made their way to Steve’s room.

“Let’s just get him to bed.”  

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Not many people could probably brag they had Black Widow’s number. Well, probably no one could, because if they told a living soul, they’d meet their end. So Sam Wilson didn’t brag. And he sure as hell didn’t call her first.

That said, he did not hesitate when she called him with location and time to meet, no greeting, no goodbye. Rude, but he’d take it. He had more than one reason, not that he would advertise it.

So there he was, sipping coffee from a take-away cup as he sat in Central Park with Black Widow, both of them having the best super-spy disguise; sunglasses and baseball caps.

The silence between them was getting awkward and Sam couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“Well, this is much more… civil than our last meeting,” he noted casually, hating to admit he was… nervous.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Ms.Romanoff hummed back, sipping her latté.

“Guess I wouldn’t expect that…”

He didn’t expect her to face him either but she did, a reminiscence of a sad smile gracing her lips. The warmth around his heart was familiar and not entirely unwelcomed. He found himself longing after seeing her whole face.

“I’m saying thank you, though.”

Huh.

“Didn’t expect that either,” he admitted and one corner of her lips rose higher in a smirk. Sam had a hunch she loved surprising people – or rather shocking them.  “How did it go?”

She huffed out a sound that could only mean frustration and Sam grimaced. Confrontation usually didn’t go very good, but this sounded awful.

“That well, huh?”

“No, no…” she shook her head, red curls swaying around her head elegantly. “He’s… an asshole. He fell asleep on a mission. In a cockpit. When he was piloting. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but God bless Stark’s inventions and auto-piloting,” she grunted and removed the cap of her cup before taking a long sip of her coffee.

She seemed to be gathering thoughts. Sam might not be able to see her eyes, but he did learn to read people. She didn’t like talking about feelings, but she was making an exception. Whether it was because of him, because of his job or because she wished to help her friend so badly, that remained a mystery. Either was pleasing though, the action itself intriguing Sam.

He had given her a lot of thought after their first unconventional meeting. He could not get her out of his head and for a good reason, of course.

He came to a conclusion that… despite her manners, she probably wasn’t a bad person. There were rumours about her past, but everyone had one. She was with the Avengers now, getting clean and the present and willingness to fix mistakes often mattered more than what had been done – especially when it came to a past like her own. Sam had made living by helping people dealing with their past actions and failures; judging her would be a hypocrisy and as far as he knew, he was a killer too. And if it came to it, he would punch, sliced or shot his way out again.

“It’s just… he’s… he’s really at the bottom,” she Natasha spoke softly, emotions lacing her voice. Regret. Compassion. Helplessness. Sam knew all those too well. “Seeing him going from one mission to another just to pass out in exhaustion was bad enough, because I knew it was wrong, but… seeing him drink himself into oblivion? One time only, but it was a nightmare. And seeing Steve doing nothing? Struggling to find a purpose, himself… that’s just…”

“It sucks. But he has a good friend in you. He needs time.”

“I know that, it’s… I wish there was someone hurting him so I could just punch them in their face and call it a day. But that one guy blew himself to hell and the others just… don’t really matter, getting them doesn’t do much help to Steve.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile softly as she said Captain’s name. It held a meaning – he was clearly dear to her and it went way beyond professional relationship. Not that the fact alone that she had shown up at Sam’s apartment the way she had wasn’t enough of an evidence. Not to mention her surprising openness.

“It’s a long way to recovery, Natasha.”

Her first name just slipped past his lips unwittingly, but he didn’t feel like apologizing. The informal space they found themselves in, the honest open conversation… first names suited it better. He was aware he sounded like he was speaking from experience on top of that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. She had done a thorough research on him.

As if she agreed with him feeling his surroundings and the atmosphere, she put away her glasses, her green eyes burning with honesty when she met his – he automatically lost the barrier too, because it felt unjust for her to be left… vulnerable like that.

“I’m truly sorry about poking at your past, Sam,”

Sam felt the last remains of hostility towards her resolve. That apology meant more than he had realized it would.

“Thanks. I get it, you know. Being worried for someone so much… he’s gonna be okay, eventually. Scarred, but okay.”

“He could be better than that…” she sighed, leaning onto the backrest of the bench tiredly.

“What was that?”

“When I confronted him on the plane… he told me he had another words,” she revealed hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure if it was her secret to tell.

Sam’s heart positively stopped. Was she telling the truth or was this a game? Did she know about his own too? He swallowed the panic when he saw her resigned gaze.

She wasn’t playing no game.

“Two soulmates. That’s rare,” he remarked, a lump growing in his throat. His palms started sweating and he hated it. Fortunately, Natasha didn’t seem to notice – or she politely ignored it, her voice dry and laced with a bit of irritation.

“He never wants to meet her.”

“That’s not rare.”

Sam would know. He had struggled with the same feeling, after all. He wanted to forget the world existed. He wanted to live peacefully and alone. It was probably no coincidence fate sent him Black freaking Widow as the one – if she was willing, Sam would not be alone. And definitely wouldn’t get ‘peace’.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wouldn’t be able to say he minded.

“He thinks… he thinks he doesn’t deserve her or something.”

Sam sighed, mentally chuckling at the irony of fate once more. The Universe did have a messed up sense of humour, didn’t it?

“Because he thinks he blew his chance. Because he thinks that he will mess it up again and fail her. And it feels like being unfaithful,” he offered, venting his own feelings for the first time.

He had never told that to anyone, ashamed of the set of words sitting on his other collarbone, appearing shortly after Riley’s death. Why did he tell her of all people? He wanted to question his own actions, he barely knew the woman, but… there was a significant but, wasn’t there?

Her emerald eyes were searching on his face, recognition lighting them up. She fidgeted, something he hadn’t seen her do before and he was sure not many people had either. It was a privilege and while his heart started racing, seeing her nervous eased his own nerves the tinniest bit.

“…yeah. I guess. You… uhm, you dealt with someone like that too?” she asked, looking away, seemingly intrigued by something in the distance.

Sam didn’t buy it and swallowed loudly.

“Just one case in my whole carrier.”

“What did you tell them?” she queried gently, her shoulders tense.

Sam shrugged. He told himself a lot of things, but he wasn’t certain they were all presentable.

“Never figured it out. First, the meeting with his other soulmate was a bit unconventional. He kinda hated her,” he admitted, glancing at her with the corner of his eye. She gave almost an inconspicuous nod, her gaze casted down. She took it as a rejection, he realized. “Then he started thinking and realized she wasn’t too bad. He’s still struggling to make up his mind – whether he should try. Whether she would want to. She would be a catch though, no doubt,” he lighted it up, biting the inside of his cheek right after.

Was he really trying to flirt now?  

One corner of her lips rose in a smirk. “Somehow I doubt that. Sounds like a bitch.”

Sam wanted to chuckle at the joke, but then her eyes lifted to him and his heart just… stopped, the amused sound stuck in his throat. He had to clear it to be able to speak up, but it did nothing under the intensity of her gaze.

“Not to me. Not anymore.”

Natasha licked her lips – and Sam would lie if he claimed he did not mirror the motion instinctively – and finished her drink.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, huh? That must have been a pleasant surprise when it appeared,” she stated, a hint of amusement along with relief that the secret, the whatever that had been hanging between them, was finally addressed.

Sam snorted, not necessarily because he found his next statement funny.  

“Yeah and I bet growing up in Russia and have an English soulmark must have been walk in a park.”

Good, there was so much sarcasm in his voice he might even feel ashamed. But the redhead – his second soulmate, holy shit, it really happened – didn’t seem to be offended.

“Wow, this almost beats the way Steve met his and that was some story….”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Silence fell on them then, both of them unsure how to continue and where to go from here. They found each other – their other half, supposedly, but no one could tell the outcome.

She was an Avenger. Sam was a therapist, a veteran at ridiculously young age, because he had lost his partner. They had a perfect example of how wrong it could go, served on silver plate – it was how they had met for God’s sake. But once again – Sam would lie when saying he didn’t miss some of the adrenalin. He did. A lot, actually.

The reason he had left the field was his soulmate. Was there any better reason to get back in when the need would rise, than another soulmate?

“Do you want to explore this?” Sam broke the uncomfortable silence, lacking the courage to look at her expression. The tension in her shoulders he could almost feel told him enough. He didn’t want to see her rejection. Did he want to see her agreement though?

“Do you?” she hummed back, staring ahead just like him.

“That’s the million dollar question.”

Riley had been… his everything. But could he ignore something like this? Could he ignore the opportunity, a woman who was no doubt fabulous and he was already finding interesting and that apparently was matching his sense of humour? Did he believe in fate? Did he have the right to try again?

Deep down, Sam knew he had already made his mind about it. Now it only depended on her.

“But I keep telling everyone to move on,” he mused out loud, catching her gaze. “Try to live. Some do. Neither of them had the… advantage of having another soulmate if we can call it that.”

Small smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, new twinkle lighting up her eyes and Sam knew he had made the right decision, no matter the outcome.

He didn’t complain when she rose to her feet to clearly leave though – they had enough to deal with today, they needed more time to think of how to approach this.

“Okay. Okay then… You have my number. Call me,” she offered simply, saying goodbye only with a nod and spun on her heels.

“Oh, I will!”

She casted a flirty grin over her shoulder and Sam found himself smiling.

“Hey, you bowl?” he blurted out the first idea that came to his mind and this time she stopped in her tracks, her smile turning almost wolfish. It might have done a thing to his crotch.

“I do, but you can’t run crying when I beat you!” she smirked and gave him a wink, hips swaying as she left him behind.

His laughter sounded like a soundtrack to her catwalk.

Cheeky lady. Sam kinda liked her.  

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Part 11

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Thank you for reading! 

We’ll be leaving Stevie next time, coming back to our wayward sons and daughter (...that’s a spn reference, if any non-fan is confused). We’re getting closer, y’all!

[gansey-just-gansey]

The Princess and the Half Bloods part seven

They drove to Leo’s house first. When they pulled up, the garage door was open, showing an old car and a pair of legs sticking out from underneath it. Percy rolled the window down.

“Hey Ms. Valdez. Is Leo even awake yet?” Percy called out.

“Yes, I just saw him eating.” A woman emerged from the depths of the car, t-shirt and jeans splattered with oil and grease. “Leo!” she yelled. “Percy y una chica estan aqui! Ven aqui!”

“Yo se, Mama. I heard them pull up,” Leo said, appearing in the doorway to the house. “Estamos ir a la casa de Jason. Don’t wait up, okay?”

“Toma tu tarea, por favor. I don’t want you to fall behind, mijo.”

“Si, Mama,” he sighed, shoving his backpack into the backseat ahead of him. “Let’s get out of here before she starts looking up what schoolwork I’m missing and makes me play catch up on that, too.” Percy pulled out of the driveway with a wave at Ms. Valdez.

“Do you have homework you need to get done?” Annabeth asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not important. We practice pretty much the whole day so I won’t even have time to do it, were I inclined to.”

“I promised Chiron I would keep you guys on track with school. You can’t fail and get grounded and miss a night at The Big House.”

“Well Saturdays are off limits, we definitely have to keep up with our practices,” Percy interjected. “And Sundays are usually working on developing songs.”

“When do you typically do homework then?”

Percy and Leo shared a look in the rearview mirror. “Whenever I have the spare time,” Percy said with a shrug.

“I see. So you just don’t, right?” she asked, exasperated.

“Not usually, no,” he admitted.

Annabeth sighed. “Piper, Hazel, and Frank meet up with me on Tuesdays so we can work on our homework together. I’ll help with anything you need. We usually go to a coffee shop but all seven of us would take up a lot of room. I’ll have to talk to Piper about letting us use her house instead.”

“If we have to study, a tricked out mansion isn’t a bad place to do it in,” Leo said, perking up.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “So how long does practice last?”

“You’ll be getting home pretty late, if that’s okay with you. The garage has been soundproofed after a lot of complaints from Jason’s neighbors, so we can practice well into the night without having to worry about keeping anyone up,” Percy explained.

“That’s fine with me, I don’t think my dad is expecting me back for dinner anyway.”

They pulled up to the Grace house, parking behind the van on the street. Jason came out to meet them as they got out.

“Hey guys, girl,” he said, nodding to Annabeth.

“Unlock the van, I need to make sure my baby remains unscathed,” Leo called, pulling on the back door of the vehicle.

“Your girlfriend is just fine, Leo,” Jason said, but pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors anyway. Leo started checking over his drum set. “Everything is all set up for practice, just gotta get the drums in there.”

“Cool,” Percy said. He went around to the trunk of his car and grabbed his guitar. “We’re going to do a playthrough of all our songs and covers for Annabeth today.”

“Sounds like a plan. Mom is out for the day, possibly the night. Either way, I doubt we’ll see her.” It was only a little bitter. Annabeth wondered at the relationship there, but didn’t feel it would be appropriate for her to ask.

She followed Percy and Jason into the garage, leaving Leo to struggle with the drum set on his own after he insisted she let him carry it himself. The other two started checking that their guitars were tuned while they waited. Annabeth booted up her laptop and started setting up a YouTube channel for them. She created a new email for the band and used it to make the account.

Piper texted her while Leo was finishing putting up the drums: Are you awake? The band was a hit, obviously.

Yeah, she sent back. I’m at their practice right now. Setting up social media for them before they start at the bar.

The reply came almost immediately. Without me???? Annabeth chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Percy inquired.

“Piper. Hey, is it cool if she comes and helps me set up all this social media for you guys? She’s like, a PR goddess.”

“Yes. Yeah, of course. She’s totally welcome here,” Jason stuttered out.

Annabeth texted Piper the address with no explanation and put down her phone in favor of the computer. She didn’t have to wait long before her phone was buzzing with another text from Piper.

I’m here but no one else is? I’ve been ringing the doorbell for like five minutes.

“Oops, shit,” Annabeth muttered as she got up from the beanbag she had taken over when she came in.

The boys all looked up from their instruments. “Something wrong?” Percy asked.

“Piper,” she said as she opened the door that exited to the front yard. “Hey, we’re back here. Sorry, it’s soundproofed.”

“There you are,” Piper said. “I was beginning to think they had kidnapped and murdered you.”

“Not yet. I think they were just about to start, yeah?” It turned into a question at the end as she looked toward the band.

“Yeah. We’re going to start with our covers. Ready?” Percy asked the others. They murmured their assent and it was quiet for a minute until they started playing. The first song they played was After Midnight again. Percy winked at her just before he started singing.

Most of their covers were songs that Annabeth knew, Blink 182 and Sum 41 and the entirety of the Green Day album that Percy said had inspired him to start playing. There were a few she didn’t recognize, some from a band called Waterparks that Annabeth vowed to listen to when she had the free time because The Half Bloods played them so perfectly, and some from Taking Back Sunday, New Found Glory, and other bands she’d never even heard of. She was glad for their long list of covers that they could pull songs from to play during their sets so they didn’t play the same songs every weekend. They could play a couple original songs and a bunch of covers each time and people wouldn’t get bored.

Annabeth watched them play, making a note in her phone of each song. When they took breaks for water and just giving their arms a rest, Piper and Annabeth busied themselves with setting up an account on every major social media platform for them. She added them all to a group chat and sent the login info for all the accounts. Piper took a picture of them while they were playing and set it as their profile picture.

“Until we can get a professional in, it’ll do,” she said, nodding to herself.

They took a longer break once they’d exhausted their list of covers. It was already near dinner time, so they all piled into Jason’s van and went through the Wendy’s drive through. The boys refused to let the girls pay and split the bill three ways as a thanks for the work they were doing.

“So we were talking,” Percy said once they were back in the garage and eating, “and we were thinking that we’re going to use the extra ten percent you wouldn’t take for things for the band. Like the photoshoot you were talking about and like recording time and stuff.”

“That’s actually a very good idea,” Annabeth approved. She probably should’ve thought about that herself.

“Would you mind taking care of that money? I’d probably lose it or accidentally spend it.”

“I can put it in a separate account that’s only for band stuff. I’ll probably be the one booking everything anyway so I might as well. I’ll go make the bank account this week.”

“You’re a godsend,” Jason said with his mouth full of fries. Piper laughed and he tried to quickly swallow it all but only choked. She laughed harder as Leo pounded on his back.

“Okay, enough fucking around. Let’s get playing our originals,” Percy said, grabbing his guitar. Annabeth settled deeper into the beanbag she had claimed. Her part of the job was over for the day and she could truly enjoy watching the band play their originals with no distractions.

They played their whole CD through, followed by a couple others that they hadn’t had an opportunity to record. Percy and Jason were perfect, their voices harmonizing beautifully. Leo was a beast, slamming out the beats with no more than a thirty second break between songs.

Things slowed and relaxed as they started playing parts of unfinished songs and suggesting changes and additions. Jason nailed down a bridge for one song and Leo played around with a solo until it was up to his standards, then pushed it a little farther, a little faster. Percy strummed and hummed mostly to himself in one of the corners, trying to find words to fit his little riff. Annabeth watched, enraptured, as they worked their magic. Piper spent most of the time setting up little details like bios on the social media accounts and circling the boys to take more pictures for Instagram. She handed her phone over to Annabeth so she could pick out which pictures were good enough to post. She sent the ones she liked to herself so she could post them.

Eventually Piper had to leave because her dad was supposed to fly home early tomorrow to spend the week with her before setting off for another film next weekend. After she left, Annabeth put up the pictures on Insta and Facebook, then turned off her phone and leaned her head back. The music that The Half Bloods played wasn’t exactly lullaby material, but the party the night before had really taken it out of her and she’d been on the whole day since she woke up. She drifted off.

She woke to Percy gently shaking her. “Hey, it’s time to go. We’re finished for the night.”

The bean bag was not the most comfortable thing she’d ever slept on, leaving her with a stiff neck and heavy arms. She blinked blearily and stood, grabbing for her bag, but Percy already had it packed and slung over his shoulder. She smiled sleepily at him, and Percy responded with a brilliant one of his own, grabbing her hand to guide her clumsy limbs to the car.

“Could you carry my shit, too?” Leo called after them. “I’m not holding your hand, though.”

“Get your shit in the car and let’s go,” Percy said, flipping him off. Leo grumbled to himself about how he was tired too but got in the car after Percy had deposited her safely in the passenger seat.

As they drove Leo home, Annabeth pulled out her phone to check notifications on the band accounts. They already had three followers: Piper, Hazel, and Frank. Piper must’ve texted the others.

There was another post in addition to the pictures of the band playing that she didn’t remember making. She clicked on it, worried that she had accidentally posted something that wasn’t meant for the official account.

“Late night band practice. Catch us live @thebighouse every Friday and Saturday starting this weekend!” the caption read. It was a picture of Annabeth, curled up on the bean bag, asleep. Percy crouched next to her with a smirk, one hand making the peace sign and the other taking the picture.

Annabeth smiled to herself and watched the houses fly by as Percy sped away.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

He’s Nothing Like His Brother

Characters: Loki Laufeyson x bodyguard!Reader, minor characters

Word Count: 2,906

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, blow job, kind of fluff?

Summary: You’re Loki’s bodyguard, tasked to protect the youngest Prince of Asgard. You go wheverver he goes, and you make sure he’s safe at all costs, ven if you have to open fire in the middle of a crowd to do it. Loki is arrogant, manipulative, smug-face, and expects women to fall to their knees in front of him. One day, you’re alone with him inside a limo, and the tension is thick. There’s only one way to fix that, and that means one of you are going to be on your knees...

Squares Filled: royaly for my second card for @avengersbingo​ // enemies to lovers for my first card for avengersbingo // it takes one to know one for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // testicle fondling for @mcukinkbingo

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

The limo ride is silent since there is nothing to speak about. As soon as the royal princes were old enough to go to public events, the King of Asgard required each of them to have at least one bodyguard with them at all times whenever they left the castle. Your family comes from a long line of assassins and bodyguards, so they picked you to be with one of the princes. You are close together in age, so the King thought you would better connect with him.

Oh how he was so wrong.

Loki is one of the most selfish and arrogant people you have ever met—and you’ve met all of Asgard. He throws a tantrum whenever he doesn’t get his way, he plays all kinds of sick jokes on you, he always manages to be late for every single event you drag him to, and he can’t ever seem to keep it in his pants. At least once a night, you have to pull him away from some Asgardian woman that he deems will be his toy for the night.

He doesn’t want to stay in bed at night, you see him wandering the castle at random times, and you’re always the one to take down his pranks against all the staff and his family. He’s just so mischievous and greedy that you can’t fathom why anyone would like him as much as he says they do.

Sometimes you think you’d be better off if you’d gotten stuck with Thor. He’s not much better, but at least he’s polite about it. There are a ton of people in your family, yet, they picked you for the job. It’s not all bad, as much as it pains you to admit. There are times where Loki is thoughtful and careful around you, but that’s only when you find him sitting in the library alone. He’s most himself when he’s reading, and you’re thankful for those rare times.

This is not one of those times.

Out of all the times you’ve escorted Loki around Asgard, this is one of the most docile times. There have been times where you put your life in front of his even though the bastard doesn’t deserve it. Though, if anything were to happen to him while on your watch, the King and Queen would have your head. There have been a few times where you needed to use lethal weapons, and you remember them quite clearly.

The first time is when you and Loki were first seen out in public together. You’re not sure who was firing at you or why they were doing it, but if you had to guess, it’ll be because of an angry ex-lover. Loki seems to have a lot more of those than actually fucking enemies.

“I’ll have you back in the castle in no time. You don’t trust me?” you ask with a scoff.

“No.”

“As your fucking bodyguard, that hurts. The Queen requested that we get you some new suits, and I can’t do that if you’re not with me. We need to have you fitted. Now shut the fuck up and pretend like you don’t want to kill yourself.”

“You know, as my bodyguard, you shouldn’t talk to me that way. I can have you arrested for it.”

“Go right ahead. We’ll see who wants to put up with your arrogant ass when I leave,” you scoff.

You know Loki won’t do shit about you for two reasons: One, he likes the challenge of someone talking back to him and calling him out on his shit. It’s a change from everyone else fawning over him or walking on eggshells around him. Two, he realizes no one else will want to be with him. You’ve been with him for so long that it’ll just be a pain in his ass to get to know someone else. He doesn’t realize it, but you know him better than anyone else on fucking Asgard.

You two walk in comfortable silence. He’s almost likable when he’s not running his mouth. Every single person that you two pass just stares at you as they bow for the prince. You don’t pay any attention to them as they don’t mean anything to you. You see the place where you’re meant to do the dress fitting when you hear it.

You hear it before you see it.

The whoosh of the arrow as it races toward Loki. He’s not paying any attention to his immediate surroundings for he is absorbing all the attention from every female that he passes. Unfortunately for them, you’re on high alert. All those training sessions you’ve had with your family taught you to be stealth, have threat reflexes, and to never trust anyone. The arrow whizzes through the air, and you wait for the exact moment before reaching for it.

Loki doesn’t even see the arrow since he’s so busy talking to some female Asgardians, but you’re ready for it. You grab the arrow right before it hits Loki, and the woman screams when she sees this. Loki turns his head to you just as you take out the gun holstered to your side. Knowing the general direction where the arrow came from, and calculating the speed and angle it came at him, you’re able to determine exactly where the assassin is. With precise aim, you pull the trigger twice, alerting everyone what is going on. The second bullet hits the man, and he falls from wherever he’s hiding.

“Come on, Prince,” you sneer. “We got a fitting to go to.”

The second time when you had to kill someone in order to protect the arrogant prince is when the King and Queen were hosting their annual ball at the castle. It’s where one night of the year, people from all backgrounds are able to attend a ball and celebrate a successful year in the kingdom. Well, one particular year, that wasn't a good thing.

Instead of joining the party down below, you’re high above in one of the secret rooms closed off to the public. You’re watching everyone below having fun, especially Loki. The way he sweeps every woman off their feet is something that makes you want to barf. He thinks that just because he winks at them, tells them how pretty and special they are, and gives them even a lick of attention, they will fall to their knees in front of him. It bugs you how much he manipulates to get what he wants. Sometimes, you think he would do so much better if he were like his brother.

Loki dances with his fourth woman of the night, and you canvas the area for potential threats. There are a few suspicious people lingering around, but they aren’t suspicious enough to warrant immediate action. You’re about to give yourself a water break when you see it. An older man walks in wearing a black suit and tie. He opens his jacket to reveal a gun. His eyes are set on Loki, and you take immediate action.

You’re ready to aim and fire, and you don’t hesitate to take the shot. The man goes down, and panic breaks out. Screams are heard and people run, but you have one clear goal in mind.

“Saunders! Marcus! Head to the east wall! We’ve got a break in,” you say into your ear piece.

You rush down to the party in search of Loki. Thor has his own security as well as the King and Queen, so you have only the youngest prince to worry about.

“Loki! Let’s go!” you yell and grab his hand.

Being Loki’s personal bodyguard, and you’re not going to lie here, is eventful. While it is always chaotic, there is never a dull moment. Sometimes you want to strangle him in his sleep, but that’s a personal issue. One of your girlfriends thinks that you have a crush on him, that you're jealous of the girls he talks to. You’ve called her out on her bullshit before because you absolutely do not have a crush on him.

Would you have a crush on him if you dreaded going anywhere with him? Do you have a crush on the way his clothes fit to form his body? Do you have a crush on how blue his eyes are? Yes! No! Shut the fuck up and do your job. If Loki knew the kind of things that went on inside your mind whenever you looked at him, he would be on another level.

“What are you thinking?” Loki asks with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Excuse me?” you ask.

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes. Now I could just look inside your mind, but I feel that would be a violation of privacy.”

“Thanks for your thoughtfulness,” you say sarcastically.

Loki remains silent which is kind of out of character for him. He just sits there and closes his eyes as if he’s thinking or resting. Loki never does this because he loves bugging you too much. You frown and watch him for a few seconds before speaking.

“Loki what the hell are you doing?”

“My oh my, Y/N. Such naughty thoughts for someone you claim to hate,” he smirks devilishly.

“Stay out of my fucking mind, Loki,” you glare.

“How can I when I now know you’ve been wanting to s—”

“Okay, Loki, stop it.”

“Stop what? You’re the one that’s been denying what you truly want. All I’m saying is… I’m right here.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with your eyebrows raised.

“Why deny what’s right in front of you? We’re an hour away from where we need to be. That’s all I’m saying,” he shrugs.

You’re not sure how it happened, just that you know you were seated in your own seat for a minute and now you’re on his lap. Your fingers thread through his silky hair, and your lips mash against his. His hands grip your waist so tightly that you know there will be bruises even underneath your clothes. Loki is the kind of man to take charge even if you are on top.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, but he doesn’t wait for you to open up. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, and you moan in appreciation. He’s from an icy planet, but his kisses are hot. Being the God of Lies, he has a silver tongue, and you can taste the lies right off it.

There is no time to waste, and it’s not like you’re here for anything else. You move your hips against his own, and you can feel his erection poke into your clothes center. He may not be as big as Thor (you accidentally saw his cock, and that’s a story for another day), but he is definitely big.

“Let me please you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m all yours darling,” he drawls.

You smirk and pull your lips from his only to attach them to his jaw. He’s got ice cold skin, but the heat coming from your mouth is enough to warm his body. You leave a trail of small kisses down his neck until you try to find the one spot that will melt his insides.

“Good luck trying to find it. Many have tried, all have failed,” he chuckles.

That only encourages you to keep searching. Your tongue licks wet stripes across his skin, marking your path for later. You get to the bottom of his neck where it meets his shoulder, and you unintentionally bite down on his skin. He tenses, surprised and shocked you actually found it, but he hopes that if he doesn’t say anything, then you won’t know you found it. However, you know exactly what his body is telling you, so there is no point beating around the bush. You suck the skin into your mouth and nibble on it, sure to break the blood vessels beneath it.

He doesn’t make a sound, but his cock grows beneath you, so you know he enjoys it. Once you’re sure you left a mark, you pull away and kiss up to his ear. You give one lick on the shell before whispering to him.

“I found it,” you smirk.

All you get in response is a grunt, and that’s your cue to start heading south.

“You think you’re so slick, huh? Let’s see how you do wrapped around my cock,” he suggests.

“I can’t think of anything better,” you retort.

You slide off his lap and onto the floor of the limo. Your hands are already at his belt buckle, but he’s already using his magic on himself. In a soft gold shimmer, he is stark naked for you. Damn, people don’t realize just how lean and toned he actually is. Whenever he’s standing next to his mountain of a brother, it’s hard to tell just how strong Loki is. He’s pale as fuck, but that makes him more attractive.

His cock stands at attention for you, and despite his milky skin, the tip is raging red as a dollop of his come is dripping down the side. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you don’t waste any more time. You wrap your fingers around the base and lean down to press a kiss on his tip. His hand immediately goes to your hair and fists it. He gently but firmly lowers your head down, but you don’t deny his need. Your mouth envelopes his cock, and you press your tongue to the underside as you take him fully. He hits the back of your throat, and you gag lightly.

He shifts down just a little so his feet are firmly planted on either side of you. He takes this opportunity to thrust into your mouth, and you slack your jaw wider so he can move freely.

“Fuck, you look absolutely stunning,” he moans.

All you can do is moan in response, and it sends vibrations through his whole body. His thrusts get deeper but less often, which can only mean he’s either looking for more stimulation, or he just needs a tighter fit.

To stimulate him further, and to help him reach his end, you reach down and cup his balls. He jerks as soon as your hand makes contact, but you don’t back away. Instead, you grip him more firmly and begin to fondle them. His thrusts become sloppy, and you know he’s nearing his end. You give one hard squeeze, and he comes undone.

He throws his head back and lets out a loud grunt as his load shoots into you. It hits the back of your throat, and you try your best to swallow it down. His grip on your hair loosens until he is no longer touching you. You swallow every last drop before popping off him.

“Mmm, I didn’t know you’d taste that good,” you grin.

“I bet you taste better,” he smirks and pulls you up.

“I’d rather feel you stretch me out,” you whisper seductively. “Think you can handle another round?”

“Darling, you have no idea what I can handle,” he smirks, and uses his magic to shimmer away your clothes.

You’re already wet and ready for him, so you when he slides inside you, it’s very smooth. You’ve never been with a man like him before. He fits perfectly, and you have a hard time believing that you’ve never done this before.

He holds you close to his body, and with his feet planted firmly on the ground, he starts thrusting up into you at a high speed. You toss your head back and let out a loud moan, but he doesn’t seem to care. His pace is brutal, but you’re more focused on the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck! Loki!” you cry.

He doesn’t want all of Asgard knowing what he’s doing to you, so he grips the sides of your face to bring you into a kiss. His lips are bruising, but you like the thought of him marking you up however he wants to.

“Are you going to come for me… pet?” he asks.

The use of the pet name is what brings you over the edge. You don’t even give him any warning before you release all over him, and he holds you to his body tightly. There isn’t any time to do another round, so he forces himself to calm down since he’s got a lot more stamina than you even realize.

With one deep thrust, he moans as he shoots his load into you. He’s never been with a woman that makes him feel the way he does. He really needs to keep you. Maybe you being his bodyguard isn’t such a bad thing.

Once you two are spent, you get off him with shaky legs. Loki uses his magic to replace your clothes as well as fix both of your hairs.

“Why haven’t we don’t that before?” you chuckle breathlessly.

“Because you’re stupid,” he smirks.

“Takes one to know one,” you retort. “From now on, I’m the only woman you use. Got it?”

“You don’t know what you’re signing up for, my dear.”

“I think I do. I get you, don’t I?”

“You do.”

“Then that’s enough for me,” you chuckle. “Just don’t let anyone compare you to your brother because you are not your brother.”

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[sarah-snook]

platonic richiepat + 9

here, have some patty being a wingman for richie lmao 

↬“My hoodie looks comfy on you.”

=====

Patty walked quickly as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat. She cursed the weather, threatening it as if doing so would make the snow stop falling from the sky. 

“God I hate winter so fucking much.” She grumbled, reluctantly pulling her hand out of her pocket to open the door of the coffee shop she had finally arrived at.“Snow can kiss my ass!”

“Hello to you too Patty Cake!” Richie smiled at her sweetly as he waved her over from his place in line.

She ignored the glares of the people lined up behind Richie as she moved to stand next to him. “I can’t believe you made me walk through all that snow just so you could have an excuse to sit here and make eyes at the guy you have a crush on without looking creepy!”

Richie shushed her, frantically looking over at the register to make sure that the guy in question hadn’t heard her a word she’d just said. “Patty! Don’t blow my cover! I’m desperate here!”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” She huffed as she looked up at the menu. “You’re buying by the way. You owe me that much.”

“I’ll even throw in a pastry, as a treat.” Richie reassured her, as they slowly moved to the front of the line. “By the way, my hoodie looks comfy on you.”

“Reminding me that this is your hoodie isn’t going to make me give it back to you.” Patty said, rolling her eyes at him.

“Nice try!” Said a voice in front of them, causing them both to turn and look wide-eyed at none other than Richie’s coffee shop crush. “You’re never getting that back from your girlfriend. Just save yourself the trouble and admit defeat right now.”

Patty looked between Richie and his cute coffee shop crush and couldn’t help but laugh as Richie began to blush furiously. This was such a disaster and she loved being there to experience it in person. Her best friend had just single handedly ruined his own chances with the guy he’d been crushing on by making him think they were together.

Taking mercy on Richie, she spoke up first. “No way, we’re not together. I’m too good for him.”

Eddie smiled at her politely as he began to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume!”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved him off as she leaned against the counter. She pointed back at Richie, winking as she said, “You’re more his type anyway.” 

“Patty!” Richie hissed, elbowing her out of the way. “Ignore her please, she thinks she’s so funny. Can we get two peppermint hot chocolates please?” 

“S-sure yeah, of course!” Eddie mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Richie. Patty smiled as she watched the way they interacted with each other, shaking her head at how dumb both of them were. They were obviously into each other and they were both too oblivious to see it.

“Hey what about my pastry?” Patty asked as they moved over to the side to wait for their drinks. “You promised me something sweet Tozier!”

“That was before you went and hit on Eddie for me while I was standing right there!” Richie scoffed, crossing his arms defensively.

“Uh?? You’re welcome??” She shot back, kicking him lightly on the shin. “He thought we were together! At least now he knows you’re single AND that you’re into dudes.”

Richie sighed, dropping his arms and hanging his head in defeat. “You’re right, thank you sugar plum. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be a disaster without me and you know it.” Patty teased, nudging him playfully with her elbow. “Well, more of a disaster than you already are.”

“Hahaha very funny!” Richie said before moving to get their drinks from the pick up counter. He pointed towards an empty table and Patty followed, sighing in relief as she took a seat. “So, do you think I still have a chance?”

She took a sip of her hot chocolate as she peeked over at Eddie, who quickly looked away from them. Patty chuckled as she took another sip before responding, “I think you should go get in line again and get me that pastry and find out for yourself.”

=====

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[writings-of-dumpy]

George Weasley and the Girl in Ravenclaw: Part 9

A/N: VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF GUNS, child endangerment (like literally all of Harry Potter), language, mentions of sex, and cliffhanger..

After Dumbledore’s death, Severus Snape had taken over being Headmaster of Hogwarts and judging by the sparse letters from Ginny over the past few months since Christmas holiday, it was an absolute nightmare. Students were treated like slaves and anyone who stepped even a toe out of line would be punished harshly. The order gathered midday during Fred and George’s lunch hour to discuss what to do about the situation since no news of Harry had been brought to their attention.

“Okay, hear me out. This may sound crazy, but Muggles have these things called guns, and if we shoot Snape—or Voldemort, for that matter—in the head, he will probably die. At a minimum, it’s a bit hard to do magic with an obliterated prefrontal cortex,” Raven suggested.  George smiled at her and patted her leg. Since Bill’s wedding, she and George hadn’t had much time together alone. He and Fred ran the shop as best they could, and Raven often took assignments from the order to go to Hogwarts and smuggle supplies to the students.

“If you want to carry a gun, fine, but I’m not sure the rest of us know how to use one,” Lupin said.

“It’s very simple,” Raven said. “Anyway, things are only getting worse, even muggles are starting to notice. I managed to swipe this newspaper that says people have been seeing odd clouds of smoke through the air…”

“Fucking Death Eaters,” Fred, George and Raven said in unison and exhaustion.

“We’ve got to start getting students out of Hogwarts. It’s not safe anymore, especially the muggle-borns,” Tonks said. Raven nodded.

George would constantly worry when Raven made trips to Hogwarts. She traveled through the Forbidden Forest and through the tunnels under the Shrieking Shack to get supplies to students in need there. He knew it was dangerous and if she was ever caught, who knew what would become of her.

“It would have to be all in one night. If students started going missing—especially the ones Yaxley likes to pick on—I’d be found out and killed for sure,” Raven said.

George’s jaw clenched at how casually she took her life. The thought of her not coming back scared the hell out of him, and he wouldn’t let her go alone.

“Fine, then it’ll be more than just you going, I’ll go too,” George offered.

“No, the Ministry has a log in Diagon Alley of strange happenings. A Weasley missing from his own shop would raise red flags,” Lupin reasoned. “Raven, go tonight and talk with Ginny and Neville about possible times that we could sneak muggle-borns out.”

“Done,” Raven agreed.

After the meeting, Raven went up to her space in the attic to supply herself with protectives and supplies the students will need. George rarely went after her because he knew she wanted to be alone as she prepared, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew with every moment she spent inside Hogwarts, the higher her chances of being caught were.

“Ven?” he asked from the doorway. She turned around and smiled at him.

“Hey,” she said and turned back to shrinking bandages and water bottles.

“I’m worried,” George said plainly. “And I’m scared for you.”

Raven looked at him, then zipped up the pack and slung it over her shoulder. “Well, that’s not doing you any favors, is it?”

She went to walk past him and he caught her arm with his hand and gently stopped her. He looked into her eyes and said, “I don’t want you to keep doing this.”

“I’ll come back, I promise. Always, remember?” Raven said and gave his arm a squeeze.

“If you aren’t back by midnight, I’m coming after you,” George said seriously.

“I’ll be back by then, I usually am,” she said. She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth tenderly and headed out the door. George’s heart skipped a beat and he felt the familiar lust he had for her creep into his mind and his heart swelled. He was sure she was trying to kill him now.

George waited anxiously for closing time to finally arrive so he could head back home and check for Raven. When the cuckoo clock finally struck 10pm, he was already packed and ready. “Come on , Fred, or I’m locking you in.”

“Eager to get home, eh?” Fred said as he tucked his bag under his arm and the pair headed out to close the shop.

“I need to make sure Raven’s okay,” George muttered as he fumbled with his keys. When he finally locked the door, Fred was eyeing him strangely. “What?”

“Are you two finally… you know…” Fred asked and mimed a rude gesture.

“Shagging?! No, are you serious? We’ve only kissed once, and who’s had time with all this, anyway,” George said and gestured to the air.

Fred scoffed, “I’ve had plenty of time.”

“Oh really now, with who?” George challenged.

“Angelina, of course! Where do you think I go every Friday night?” Fred asked. George’s eyes widened. Come to think of it, he had noticed Fred’s sudden disappearance on most Friday evenings, but I guess he assumed Fred was off being alone.

“Unbelievable,” George said.

“No, what’s unbelievable is that you and Ven have only kissed. She’s a good fit for you, just go for it!” Fred encouraged.

George shook his head. “Maybe I LIKE taking my time. Besides, she’s your friend, shouldn’t you be discouraging men from trying to shag her unless she likes them?”

Fred scoffed and shook his head. “You’ve gone mad.”

The subject was dropped once they apparated into the burrow. George walked into the kitchen to find Tonks with Molly sat in a chair.

“What happened?” Fred asked, following George in.

“Harry’s gone to Hogwarts tonight. Raven saw him in the tunnels and told us straight away. He’s going to confront Snape and try to destroy the last horcruxes. All of the Death Eaters will be there at any moment,” Tonks said. “We wanted to tell you. The rest of the Order is ready to go, will you join us?”

“No question,” Fred and George said. George panicked at the thought of every dark wizard, witch and creature swarming on Hogwarts with Raven and his sister in it. He quickly changed into more suitable clothes, then the four of them apparated into the tunnels below the Shrieking Shack. When they arrived, they were greeted by every member of the order, and they made their way through the tunnels. George wondered where Raven was and if she was alright. He expected to see her with the rest of the order, but he couldn’t find her.

“This way,” Kingsley commanded and pointed to the left at a fork in the tunnel. When they approached a dead end, Kingsley leaned against the wall to listen, then knocked four times.

“Wands ready,” he said to the group in a low voice. Slowly, the wall opened and George recognized the Gryffindor common room. Out popped Raven from the side with a grin on her face.

“Hi guys! Come on, Harry’s already headed towards the great hall,” she said and George felt an overwhelming sense of relief and he stepped forward with he rest of the order. They made their way silently through the corridors, petrifying death eaters all along the way. George was reminded of his time in school with Fred and Raven sneaking past Filch and various teachers. He looked over at her while they walked and grinned at her. She smiled back at him. As they reached the Great Hall, they heard Harry’s voice.

“It seems that despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, headmaster,” Harry declared in the silent room. As he spoke, Kingsley opened the large doors and the order walked in, fanning out to block the door. “And I’m afraid it’s quite extensive.”

George snuck his hand down to hold Raven’s behind Bill’s tall figure, and Harry continued, “How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night! Tell them how you looked him in the eye—the man who trusted you—and killed him! Tell them.”

Without another word, Snape raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. The students who were formed in neat lines suddenly jumped out of the way and scattered out of the way. Before any of the arrived order could step forward, Minerva McGonagall placed herself between Snape and Harry. After a small moment, fire flew from her wand right at Snape’s dumbfounded face. He blocked it, and McGonagall advanced forward, sending flame after flame until Snape rebounded the spells off of him and back to the death eaters behind him, then flew out of the window.

“And stay out!” Raven shouted. McGonagall lit the candles back to their familiar glow and the room erupted in applause and cheer. George grinned from ear to missing ear and looked down at Raven. The two embraced tightly and George said to her, “I was so worried…”

“I was too. But we’re here now, and we’ve got a fight ahead of us,” Raven said in a slightly ominous tone.

The room suddenly went dark and an eerie voice was heard by all by the looks of it. “I know that many of you will want to fight, some of you may even think that to fight is wise, but this is folly. Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour,” Voldemort’s voice rang out. George held onto Raven, who looked sick to her stomach.

After a moment, a Slytherin girl spoke up, “What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!”

“Looks like I’m gonna kill a child today,” Raven said and stood next to Harry with her wand raised. The rest of the Order followed her with George and Fred on either side of Raven.

“Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!” Filtch screamed as he came running into the Great Hall.

“They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot,” McGonagall said impatiently. “However, your appearance is most opportune. Would you be so kind as to escort Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house to the dungeons.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Filtch said, completely intimidated.

After that, the Order’s job became clear: protect Harry until all of the horcruxes were destroyed. Kingsley turned to the remaining order members after Molly and Tonks went with McGonagall to the front of the castle. “Fred, George, Raven, you take the east tower, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, you take the west, the rest of you split up in between. They’ll be attacking from all over we expect, so if you need backup, move to the middle.”

George started to run to the east side of the castle with Fred and Raven. He noticed that the barrier was already up and he could see several wires and explosives being set up on all of the bridges. When they reached a good spot to see over the courtyard, he managed to make out dark shadows on the hill across the lake, and assumed it must be Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Not even an hour had gone by  before they began their attack on Hogwarts.

“Bloody git, that Voldemort!” Fred said.

“Well, with a title like ‘Dark Lord,’ I think bloody git is putting it lightly,” George observed.

All of a sudden George couldn’t tell what was happening there was so much chaos.The castle was exploding and creatures of all kinds of dark lands flooded the grounds.  He could barely tell who he was fighting, and he could barely get a word in, all he could do was block the curses and hope that none of them landed on him and better yet rebounded back onto his attacker. During a brief pause, George managed to stun his attacker backwards and off of the tower. 

“Oops,” he said to himself, and the three of them ran to the courtyard through the chaos of students. George and Raven’s hands clasped together for George feared he’d lose her in the chaos of the fight. Explosions and curses erupted around them and George was feeling slightly overwhelmed. The three of them stood back to back and guarded each other that way while defending an entrance to the castle. Death Eaters, giants, trolls, vampires, and werewolves all were involved in attacking students, staff, and Aurors. 

“Are you actually kidding me right now?! What the fuck is this noseless freak playing at, anyway?!” Raven shouted and started throwing hex after hex at the new oncoming enemy: giant spiders. 

“This reminds me of something, George!” Fred said. “Hang on!” Fred leapt away from them and George assumed he didn’t know he stopped right in the path of a falling beam. He was far away from where the chaos was concentrated, so he had a moment to stop moving, but George prayed that he wouldn’t... but he did.

“FRED, NO!” Raven cried out, but before they could reach him, the beam had fallen and smacked him in the head, his face still stuck in a smile. 

[mitchmarnier]

i don’t want to spend another christmas without you 

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] word count: 5,623 summary: richie tozier turned his back on derry and most of his life after graduating high school and never looked back. what happens when after three years, richie must finally return home for the holidays? ⤹ written for @richiebeepbeep as their gift for the @itfandomprompts 2019 secret santa event! i hope you like it! 

read on ao3.

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @eddiekasbpark​ @stanleuyris​, @appojoos​, @s-s-georgie​, @chaotickaspbrak​, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​, @edstozler​, @emgays​, @anellope​, @thorn-harvester-ven​, @wheezyeds​, @vipertooth​, @tozierking​, @billdenbrough (also let me know if you want added!)

Richie was not coming home for the holidays season. He never wanted to face Derry again, he lived in California now. He was happy there, that was where his life was, his apartment, his future. He simply could not face the life he had left behind three years earlier. Left vowing he would never return unless under the most desperate of situations. It had worked thus far, Richie always managing to come up with some sort of excuse when breaks from school had come around. Too much school work, doing summer trips abroad, having a his full time job and being unable to time off. He knew every time he told his mother he wasn’t going to make it that it broke her heart a little bit more. He almost dreaded the day she stopped asking him almost as much as he longed for it. 

There wasn’t much getting out of it this time, though, he knew. His sister had made it clear enough, with a short but firm text message, explaining all about how its her first Christmas since getting engaged and how Richie hadn’t even met Bryan yet and how he was breaking their mother’s heart and Richie felt guilt deep in his bones as he promised Elle that he’d be there this year. 

So now he was getting off at the Bangor Airport and his palms were sweating, his heart had been racing in his chest faster and faster the closer he got to Maine. His knees were shaking as he walked through the airport, looking for his family. His stomach jumped as his gaze caught sight of somebody who was clearly here for him, though the last person he would have expected to see.

“Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie cried, breaking into a sprint on his still shaky knees. He had missed his friends as much as his family, with a deep ache that he spent the majority of his last few years buiring deep inside of him by keeping busy and not giving him a chance to think about them. He’d kept in light contact with them, but he knew that he’d been shutting them out. And he knew that they knew it, too. 

Richie launched himself at Eddie, jumping up into his arms and wrapping himself around him koala-style. Eddie let out a loud and annoyed noise, but Richie could hear the laughter underneath it. “Goddamn it, Richard.” Eddie grunted and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist to help hold him up. “You’re fucking six teet tall, what the fuck. Get off me.”

Eddie’s arms squeezed tighter around Richie’s waist in contradiction of his own words and Richie smiled against his best friend’s head. He finally dropped down with his feet on the ground, and found that his knees were no longer weak. He beamed at Eddie, reaching out to pinch his cheeks. Eddie swatted his away, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “What brings you to this lovely airport, Eddie my love? Thought my old man wanted to pick me up and lecture me whole way back to Derry about what a terrible son I’ve been.” 

Eddie shrugged one shoulder, smiling down at his feet for a moment. “You know how your parents get right before a party, all stressed and manic. I volunteered to come get you, and don’t worry. I can still give you a great lecture about what a piece of shit son you’ve been the last couple years. And friend.”

Richie grumbled under his breath and stuck his hands into his jean back pockets. “Yeah, I feel like I’m going to be heading on the Richie Tozier apology tour.”

“It’s the least you can do.” Eddie said a little sharply, but his cheeks were still pink and his eyes were twinkling as he looked Richie up and down. “But don’t worry, you’ll have lots of time. Everybody is gonna be at the party tomorrow night, you can stand up and make a giant speech in front of the whole damn crowd if that’s still your style. Let’s go get your bags.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring any bags.” Richie said with a shrug.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked at Richie a few times before he furrowed his brow. “You’re here for two weeks? And you didn’t bring a single bag? Nothing? What are you supposed to wear?”

“I have clothes and shit back home!” Richie waved off Eddie’s concerns. “Nothing to worry about, Eds! Now show me to that Kaspbrak love wagon.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but allowed Eddie to wrap an arm around him and guided them outside into the chilly Maine air. Richie shivered brutally the moment he reached out into snow flurries, and let out a mildly horrified noise from the back of his throat. “Oh, fucking Maine. I’d forgotten. Please tell me you parked close, Eddie.”

Eddie chuckled, and tugged a woolly hat with a pom pom out of the pocket of his featherdown coat and reached over to stuff it onto Richie’s messy curls. “Awe, poor California boy can’t handle the cold? Forgetting your roots?”

“Listen, man.” Richie said through chattering teeth as Eddie linked arms with him and guided him quickly through the overly crowded parking lot. “I’ve barely even wore a sweater in the last three years. I was a l-l-l-egend in Cali, dude! I went sw-swimming in mid-winter while people st-st-arted at me like I was a lunatic!” 

“And now you’re shivering like a little bitch and stuttering like Bill Denbrough aged 12 in Maine.” Eddie chuckled, dropping Richie’s arm to move over and unlock the car doors. Richie tugged frantically at the passenger seat and dove into car. He buckled up quickly, knowing Eddie would demand it, and pulled his legs up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and pressed his face into his knees. 

Eddie dropped into the driver’s seat and seemed to take his damn time turning the car on. “Turn the heat on, turn the heat on.” Richie cried. “Please I’m going to die!” 

“You’re not going to die.” Eddie turned the car on, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking dramatic, Richard.” 

Richie shivered, holding his legs as close to his chest as he could manage without completely folding into himself. “Heat… please I beg you.”

“What if I told you the heater is broken?” Eddie asked, starting to pull out of the parking lot and getting caught up in a long line. Richie let out a distressed noise that almost sounded like a sob and Eddie’s heart tugged in his chest. “God, Rich, I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t let something in my car stay broken! Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Richie sighed as Eddie reached out and kicked the heater up. Richie sighed, and by the time they were finally pulling out of the cramming parking lot he’d let his legs down onto the floor of the car and was filling up with nerves once again. “So are we allowed to put on music or would that be too distracting from the lecture you’re going to give me?”

Eddie sighed, tapping at the steering wheel. “I’m not going to lecture you, Richie. I get it… mostly. I don’t really like coming home to Derry, either. It wasn’t a great place for any of us.” Eddie glanced at Richie from the corner of his eye and shook his head. “But we didn’t all have a family that as good as yours, Rich. And we didn’t cut each other out, either. I don’t know what happened, Richie. It’s like you cross over the Derry town line and you straight up forgot that everybody here existed.”

Richie sighed and leaned his head against the car window, though the chill stung at his skin. “I didn’t. I thought about you guys everyday.” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment, fingers still tapping the steering wheel as they drove down the dark highway. Despite how busy the airport parking lot had been, the highway was nearly empty aside from them. “I spent a while wondering if maybe I’d done something wrong… after everything that happened senior year. If I’d made you hate me.” 

Richie closed his eyes, brain dragging up all the things he didn’t want to remember. The things he’d pointedly kept from his mind over the last three years. Eddie Kaspbrak under the lights at prom, Eddie Kaspbrak’s lips on his in front of everybody at their graduation, Eddie Kaspbrak’s tears when he told Richie they couldn’t be together because distance would ruin their relationship and their friendship. “I don’t hate you, Eds.” Richie said softly. “I could never.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.” Eddie chuckled. “Because I wanted to hate you. Somedays I did. Most of the time I just missed you.”

Richie’s heart clenched in his chest and he clenched his fingers sharply against the meat of his thigh. “I’m sorry, Eds.” Richie squeezed his eyes shut, leg shaking underneath him. This isn’t his strong suit, talking to people like this. Being open in any sense of the word had always been Richie’s deepest struggle. It had likely been the reason he hadn’t bothered to fight for him and Eddie in the first place. 

“I wanna say it’s okay, but it’s not really.” Eddie shrugged one shoulder and kept his eyes on the road. It was starting to snow harder, getting harder to see through, and Richie wondered for a moment about how he’d forgotten that snow was beautiful when you weren’t freezing. His gaze slid from the front windshield and he looked at Eddie, knowing that he found him more beautiful than he would ever find snow. 

“I get that.” Richie said. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even bothering to see me. I definitely didn’t expect you to be coming to my parents party tomorrow.” 

“I’ve gone to your parents’ party every year, Richie.” Eddie said simply with a shrug of his shoulder and half a smile. “I helped you set up every year in high school and I wasn’t about to stop just because you were being a dick to everybody. It’s always been the best excuse to get away from my mother during the holidays, as much as it pissed her off.”

“I always thought you liked it so much because it pissed her off.” Richie said with a small smile, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to hide his smile. Eddie’s lips twitched up in hint of his own grin, though he made no move to confirm or deny it. “I always sort of thought that’s why you spend so much time with me, to be honest. Nobody ever got under her skin like I did.” Eddie’s gazed jerked to look at him, something deep and worrisome in his eyes. Richie’s heart started racing in his chest, and palms began to sweat. “You know, the only time she ever got along with me was when I was giving her the good dick. A very serious love-hate relationship.”

“God, you’re fucking disgusting!” Eddie cried, letting go of the wheel to smack Richie in the arm. “You actually haven’t grown out of Your Mom jokes? You’re twenty-one man!” 

Richie shook his head and let out a soft huff of a laugh. Silence settled in the vehicle and Richie wondered for a moment if he’d be able to open up the door and roll out. He cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his head. “So… your mom is still the worst then?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. “As if she’d ever be anything less than terrible.” He said. “You know what he’s like. Every time I come home she spends the entire time crying and whining and begging me to stay. That I shouldn’t go back to school, that I’m sick and she needs to take care of me. The usual bullshit.” 

Richie frowned at his hands, shaking his head. Not for the first time, Richie Tozier wondered at the strength of Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie had known many brave and amazing people in his life, but he didn’t think anybody would ever be on the level of Eddie. Eddie, who could walk directly into the face of abuse and hold his ground and still be the kindest person he’d ever had the honour of knowing. 

“Thank you for coming to pick me up.” Richie said quietly, pointedly staring out the front windshield even as he could feel Eddie watching him from the corner of his eye. “And thank you for not hating me.” 

“I could never hate you, Richie.” Eddie said. “Trust me. I tried. Unfortunately, I think caring about somebody for 16 year is hard to turn off.”

“Yeah.” Richie agreed. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jeans and began fiddling with the car radio. Eddie chuckled at him, and Richie finally managed to hook his phone up to the bluetooth. Smiling, he clicked onto his private Spaghetti Songs playlist and hit shuffle. He hadn’t listened to this playlist in a  ages, but he’d never had the heart to delete it. The smile that broke out on Eddie’s face as Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepson started playing made Richie overly happy that he never got rid of it. 

They spent the rest of the ride in a comfortable relaxation, singing along to the gushy and lovely pop songs that weren’t usually Richie’s type of music but he couldn’t deny the little bubble of happy they gave him whenever he reminded hearing them for the first time and being reminded of Eddie. Nor the bubble of fondness he got in his chest when looked at Eddie and watched him sing along to every single one.

They pulled into Derry and Richie felt the panic begin to settle into his chest once again. His leg started bouncing and he felt that the air in the car got heavier. When they pulled into the Tozier’s driveway, Richie felt that maybe he’d been cemented to his seat. Eddie turned off the car and unbuckled, opening the car door before pausing. He slowed the door slowly and turned to Richie with a small frown. “Rich?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Richie said, staring blankly ahead and now biting at his thumb nail. Eddie’s hand reached out and wrapped around Richie’s wrist, pulling it away from his mouth and holding it in his lap. Richie turned to look at him slowly, and thought maybe this was the first time Richie was really looking Eddie since he’d picked him up. He’d grown his hair out since the summer after high school, curling around his ears and the base of his neck. His face was freckled even with the darkness that came with winter and his shoulders had definitely broadened. He wondered randomly for a moment if Eddie still ran.  “I’m fine. I just… need a moment.”

Eddie pulled Richie’s arm into his lap and rested against the seat of the car. “Okay. But I’ve already turned the car off so it’s about to get really cold in here and you’re a little California baby now.” Richie reached over and flicked Eddie in the ear. Eddie swatted at him with the hand that didn’t have a tight grip about Richie’s wrist. “And I can see Alex’s face in the window, so she knows you’re here.”

Richie looked over and sure enough, he could see his little sister peering out from between the curtains. His stomach tensed with anxiety as his heart leapt with love. “Alright.” He said with a soft sigh. “Let’s fucking get this over with then.”

“That’s the spirit.” Eddie said with a laugh. He patted Richie on the shoulder twice then ducked out of the car. Richie took another moment to try and gather himself together before quickly figuring out that he wasn’t going to get any more prepared than he was right now. 

Richie kicked off his boots as he came in the house, and didn’t have a chance to take them off before somebody was latching themselves tightly around his midsection.”RICHIE!” Alex cried, pressing her face directly into his stomach. Alexandria Tozier had been a shock to Went and Maggie, barely four years old when Richie had moved out, and he adored her. 

“Hey kiddo.” Richie said, trying to cover up how his voice cracked and broke as he squeezed his baby sister. She stepped back and Richie got his first good look at her. Her hair was longer and waved down her back, and her huge grin was missing several teeth. “Look at you! You’re all grown up, you in high school yet?”

Alex broke into giggles, wrapping her arms back around Richie’s stomach. “Noooo Richie. I’m only in grade two.”

“Grade two!” Richie gasped overdramatically, bending slightly and grunting as he heaved Alex up into his arms. Alex looked at him seriously for a moment then cracked into a grin and Richie couldn’t help but smile back. He kicked off his boots and walked into the crowded living room, holding Alex to his chest like a shield. 

“Richie!” Maggie cried as he entered, coming forward to wrap her arms around her son. Richie leaned down and kissed his mother on the cheek, and Alex rested her head on Richie’s shoulder. Her eyes were already drooping and Richie couldn’t help but wonder if she was staying up past her bedtime to see him.

Eddie was chatting with Wentworth across the living room and Richie’s heart began to race in his chest. He tossed Alex down onto the couch touchdown style, leaving her laughing into the cushions as he walked over to them. 

“Hey Pops.” Richie said, scratching at the back of his neck. 

Went turned to him, expression stoney. “Edward has told me there’s no need for me to lecture you since he has that covered. I trust that is true.” 

“Yes sir.” Richie replied with a somber nod. 

Went broke into a smile and pulled Richie in for a hug. “It’s good to have you home, son. Hope to see you around here more often.”

Richie thought of how much Alex had grown, of sitting with Eddie in the car listening to music and felt his father’s warmth around. “Yeah, Dad. Absolutely.”

“Only issue,” Eddie broke into the father-son moment with a sing song voice. Richie turned and Eddie beamed at him. “I basically live in your room when I’m back in Derry, so you’re going to have to share your bed with me.”

Richie’s brain stalled at the thought of Eddie living in his childhood bedroom for the last three years and he wasn’t quite sure if he felt uncomfortable with it or not, but his brain got caught up in the even scarier thought of sharing a bed with Eddie. 

As the evening went on, Richie tried with all his might not to think about the last time he and Eddie had laid together in that bed. It had been Eddie’s last night in Derry, the two of them curled under the blankets and watching shitty movies and drinking so much soda that Eddie had gotten a stomach ache. A good old fashioned middle school style sleepover. That is until Eddie had rolled over with tears in eyes, and apologized that they couldn’t be together the way they wanted, and kissed him. Everything else that happened between them that night hurt too much to think about, and Eddie had left the next morning without a single word about it. Richie had barely spoken to him since- until today.

Everything died down quickly, and Richie found that he was exhausted. After helping his mom put Alex to bed, though he suspected that the nighttime routine was a little elaborated for his presence, Richie said goodnight to his family and Eddie and dragged his ass up to his childhood bedroom. 

Everything seemed smaller than Richie remembered, and the walls were littered with posters of bands that Richie hadn’t listened to in years. He smiled, though he wasn’t quite sure what was getting to him in the moment, and opened up the top drawer of his dresser. Most of the clothes he’d left behind had actually once belonged to one of the other Losers, and Richie ended up in a too-large T-shirt that was most likely Ben’s, and a pair of sweatpants that were just short enough in the leg to be Bill’s. He crawled into bed and sleep took faster than it had in ages.

He was woken a bit later by the door opening and closing. He rolled over onto his back and squinted, but he couldn’t see shit in the dark without his glasses.

“It’s just me.” Eddie said in soft whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

Richie rolled over, more than happy to do that. He’d started to doze when the bed dipped under the weight of Eddie climbing in beside him. Richie grunted and burrowed himself deeper into the blankets.

“Rich?” Eddie whispered. Richie groaned in response. “Are you sure you’re okay with sharing with me? This is your bed, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I don’t live here, I can go back and stay with my Ma-”

“Eddie if you think I’m even gonna let you to stay at your mom’s, you’re insane.” Richie said, his voice croaking with half-sleep. “If I was uncomfortable with you in my bed, I would’ve fucking told you. We’ve shared this bed a hundred million times or more. We’re only going to start having an issue if you don’t shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

Eddie chuckled, and when he spoke his voice sounded a little awestruck. “Richie Tozier telling somebody to shut the fuck up? That must be a first.”

“There’s about to be a second.” Richie grumbled, grabbing a pillow out from where Eddie was leaning and whacking him in the face with it. Eddie laughed and Richie felt him finally lay down completely beside him. 

It was definitely the best sleep Richie had had in months, but he wasn’t about to go around announcing it. 

The next morning, Richie woke up alone in his bed and felt a momentary panic when he took in his whereabouts. It took a moment for everything to come sinking back in, and Richie groaned as he put the pieces back together. He flung the blankets up over his head and wondered if he’d be able to get away with wasting the day away in bed. He never came home for the holidays, maybe if he just stayed in his room, his family would just forget he was there.

The bedroom door came swinging open immediately after Richie’s thoughts trailed off, and he forced himself not to make any noise or sudden movements. 

“Asshole, get up.” His older sister, Alyssa, called into the room. “Mom and Dad need you and Eddie to go pick up some stuff for the party tonight.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Richie grumbled. “I was in a different state yesterday! That kind of shit takes a lot out of a guy!”

Alyssa grabbed the blankets that were still hung over Richie’s head and tossed them away. She glared down at him, hands on her hips, and Richie couldn’t help but think she looked exactly like their mother. “Last ones in do the bitch work. And you have like, three years worth of bitch work to make up for. So let’s go, move your ass, Tozier.”

“Fuck you, Tozier.”

Richie rolled out bed quite literally, letting himself drop to the floor. He didn’t need to look up to know that Alyssa was rolling her eyes as she walked away out of his room. Richie rummaged back through the drawer o’ missing clothes, and came out with a large grey sweater- much too large to belong to Richie himself- and pulled back on the jeans from the day before. Tossing his outgrown hair up into a bun on top of his head, Richie half stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Maggie barely looked up at him as she handed him a cup of steaming hot chocolate and Richie leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. He turned towards the table and found Eddie sitting there, eating a blueberry muffin and glaring at him. “Got an issue, Kaspbrak?” Richie challenged, sitting down across from him and grabbing his own muffin from the plate. 

“Are you wearing the same jeans from yesterday?” Eddie asked with a crinkle of his nose.

“Judging by the look on your face, you already know the answer to that, Eduardo.” 

Eddie fake gagged. “Richie, that’s so fucking disgusting, are you kidding? What? You’re just going to wear the same pants the entire time you’re here? You’re going to get an… an infection or something. God, Richie. When we go out today, you’re getting some clothes.” Richie opened his mouth but Eddie put his hand out. “And don’t even try to complain to me, it’s your own damn fault for not bringing any stuff when you knew you were going to be here for a week.”

Richie rolled his eyes and didn’t bother trying to cover up his pout. He’d had to borrow a coat from his dad, and was forced to venture out into two feet of snow in his Converse sneakers and Eddie was talking a mile a minute at his side. 

“I’m not fucking buying a pair of boots, Eddie.” Richie rolled his eyes as he dropped into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. “They’re like 60 bucks a pair, and I live in fucking California. I’m not spending $60 on something I’m only going to use for a week. I’m a broke college student, just like you.”

“Please.” Eddie scoffed, pulling out of the driveway and starting slowly down the snowy road. “If you say so.” 

They drove in an almost eerily comfortable silence. No music, not taking, just them while Richie tried to ignore how immensely he was enjoying Eddie’s company. Richie curled up in the passenger seat, head pressed against the window and he sighed. He watched his breath fog up the glass and slowly traced a R + E into the fog with his finger. He immediately wiped it away with the palm of his hand and glanced over his shoulder, relaxing when it seemed that Eddie hadn’t noticed.

Eddie pulled into the parking lot of Shaw’s Supermarket and Richie stayed curled up in his seat until Eddie came around and yanked the door open. “Come on.” He said with a huff. “I’m not going to do the shopping by myself. Move it.”

Richie groaned, and made exaggerated stomps out of the car. He kept his arms crossed as they hurried through the parking lot and Eddie grabbed them a cart. As soon as Eddie had his bearings on the cart, Richie leap over it and curled up inside, crossed legged and grinning up at Eddie. 

“The cart is for groceries, not your lazy ass.” Eddie grumbled, but he started pushing the cart into the store nonetheless. Richie spun around in the cart, grabbing things off the shelves when Eddie pointed them out and holding them on his lap. 

Eddie maintained that Richie was being lazy and merely looking for an excuse to get out of the shopping as much as possible, but Richie firmly believed that the trip went by faster without Eddie having to stop for every single item they needed to grab. 

“That would have been true either way, you’d just also be walking, dickhead.” Eddie argued after Richie had leap out of the cart and was helping him unload everything onto the belt. “Maybe we could have taken turns pushing the cart even.”

“Awe, Eds, that’s the funniest joke you’ve ever made.” Richie said over his shoulder as he paid the cashier. Richie grabbed as many bags as he could carry and they dragged everything back to car. 

Richie turned on Christmas Carols on the drive back to his house, and after mild complaining- Eddie even sang along with him. 

As they arrived back at the Toziers, they realized how many extra cars were now parked outside. There was space for Eddie to pull into the driveway- no doubt at Maggie’s demand for the safety of her much needed groceries- and Richie found that anxiety from the night before quickly settling back into his gut. 

“Relax, Rich.” Eddie said in a calming voice. His hand dropped down on Richie’s thigh and squeezed. Richie’s breath picked up, Eddie successfully doing the opposite of calming him down. “Richie. I can feel you freaking out. What is your problem?”

“I can’t go in there, Eddie.” Richie said, voice pitched and words rushed together. Richie suddenly felt fifteen again, deeply in love with his best friend and afraid to do anything. A boy who likes boy is a dead boy, Richie thought to himself and remembered growing up in this horrific town around people he could only hope would accept him but he was never sure. He was never sure, he isn’t sure. 

But Eddie with looking at him with wide eyes, concerned and open. Willing to listen to whatever Richie was struggling with and it made Richie so nervous he could throw up. 

Richie ran both hands over his face and sighed loudly. “I cut off everybody I loved, Eds. They’re all in that fucking house, I can’t go in there. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I can’t go in there and lie to them, or dodge their fucking questions of why I never come home. I just can’t.” 

“Why do you have to lie?” Eddie asked, frowning deeply.  

“Because I can't just go in there and be all ‘hey everybody! Sorry you haven’t seen me in three years but I went off to college and stopped repressing my homosexuality and now I’m a big giant gay! Surprise! I didn’t bring any present!’” 

Richie blurted out the sentence in a span of seconds, words all pressed together until they were barely coherent and Eddie blinked at him as his brain attempted to detangle the mess. His eyes widened as he finally did, and he turned off the car. He buckled himself and almost fell out of the door in his haste to get out. 

Tears stung at his eyes as Richie’s brain spiraled down the dark panic of Eddie turning his back on him. Luckily for Richie, Eddie had only been out of the car long enough to rush around to the passenger side and yank it open. 

“Come on, out. Let’s go.” Eddie forcibly unbuckled Richie and tugged him out of the car. Hand in hand, Eddie dragged him around the house and towards the backyard. 

“Uh, Eds?” Richie’s knees shook brutally as they walked. “What about the groceries?”

“It’s cold enough.” Eddie said sharply. “It’ll basically be like it being a fridge. Relax. This is more important.” 

Eddie sat down on the swing set and Richie sat down slowly on the other side. He suddenly remembered all the summer and fall days Richie and his friends would run around on this small swing set. He wondered if Alex and her friends even played on it, and he hoped desperately that they did. 

It had started snowing lightly, like flakes falling into their hair. Richie, despite the lingering anxiety, couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie’s cheeks were starting to redden with the chill. Richie pushed his swing enough to sway, enough to just have something to do. 

“Richie-“ Eddie started then paused. He bit down on his bottom lip and furrowed his brow. “I don’t know how to say this politely, so I’m just going to spit it down. Richie. Your family knows you’re gay.”

Richie’s mouth dropped open. He closed his sharply, just to open it again. He shook his head, and closed his eyes. Swallowing deeply, when he opened them again, Eddie was still staring at him softly. “How do you know that?”

Eddie laughed. “Dude, do you know how much I’ve had to hear your mom talk about how she thought we were dating in high school? I’m not sure she believes me when I say that we weren’t.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you either.” Richie said quietly, so quietly that he was almost surprised that Eddie even heard him. But Eddie let a small noise, almost as though he was pained. 

Suddenly, Eddie’s hands were on Richie’s cheeks and pulling him in. Eddie’s lips were cold and Richie knew his were chapped and probably not very nice, but there was something so heartachingly familiar about kissing Eddie that Richie couldn’t help but sink into it completely. 

Eddie pulled back slowly, letting their foreheads stay pressed together. Richie fluttered his eyes open, looking at Eddie with hooded lids. “Why’d you do that?” Richie whispered. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said sounding mournful. “For… saying we shouldn’t be together and everything that happened before I left for New York. It wasn’t fucking fair to you, you deserved so much better.” Eddie shook his head, pushing Richie’s head as they moved together. “God. I loved you so much and I knew I was hurting you. I was always so sure that the reason you wouldn't come back to Derry because of me.”

Richie shrugged and brought his hands down to rest on Eddie’s hips. “There was a lot of versions. But…” Richie smiled bashfully. “I think I’m glad I came back this time.” 

Eddie smiled back and pressed a kiss to Richie’s forehead. 

[sorakingdomhearts]

I just finished watching all of the Kingdom Hearts game cutscenes in 16 days! Under the cut, my super-long analysis post.

This was such a bad idea and also the best I’ve ever had. I can no longer tell the events of separate games apart, other than the stuff I added to this post’s draft while watching, but it’s given me so much to do in the quaran-times.

I would say my favorite games at this point are KH3, BBS, and 358/2 Days. I actually played through KH3 to like 90 something percent so I’m most attached to it, but storywise Aqua, Ventus, Roxas, and Axel/Lea have the best plots. If I had to pick a top favorite, other than Sora(because. Well. Sora’s my chosen middle name for a reason) I would say it’s Axel/Lea, and Aqua is the world’s closest second.

My favorite Disney worlds are probably Traverse Town for the music, Nightmare Before Christmas for the costumes(both the wintery ones and the spooky ones), Disney Town for the character appearances and aesthetic/colors, and BH6 for the plot/dialogue. Honorable mention to Hunchback of Notre Dame for being the only one I hadn’t heard about before starting this journey AND being a friend’s current hyperfixation so I got to share hyperfix joy with them for a bit.

I think Aqua has the best voice in the series. Especially with BBS 0.2/KH2.8 there’s quite a few scenes where the only dialogue is her talking to herself and she’s got such an emotional, pretty voice to pair with her heartbreaking journey home.

Axel/Lea’s relationship with his name is the same as a trans person with their deadname and I love that for him. For example, in the end of Dream Drop Distance, he gets frustrated with Riku not knowing it’s changed to Lea again but gives up on correcting him because the rest of what’s going on is more important. I’ve definitely done that with people deadnaming me.

On the other side of that coin, in ReMIND Demyx struggles to remember it’s Ienzo, not Zexion, but he corrects himself over and over. He doesn’t seem to want to deadname Ienzo, he just hasn’t gotten used to it yet. I think that more than anything else is what proved to me personally that Demyx really was trying to do something good.

Also, with Axel/Lea, can he not make bad jokes IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS OWN DEATH? Hello?! I said this on Twitter but hey, buddy, I love you dearly but now isn’t the time.

Xion’s name is pronounced she-on, not zee-on like I thought when I read it. Idk why I thought it was that way when I read it printed but it’s not.

Donald is always cute, all the time, and he’s cutest when he and Sora are squabbling like little kids. I love him. Or maybe that’s the Ducktales fan bias creeping in...

Speaking of HEY, WAS ANYONE GONNA TELL ME HDL AND SCROOGE ARE IN MORE THAN JUST THE KH TRILOGY?!?! What a pleasant surprise to see Scrooge in BBS and to visit Disney Town.

Nobodies make the wobble sound of laminated paper being shaken. I keep thinking about that for no reason.

Does anyone else think Riku saying he can “smell the darkness” on people in ReCOM is weird? Am I just really late to the party, or are we just going to ignore that? Yeah? Okay.

Aqua’s end of Birth by Sleep has some of the sweetest, most poetic dialogue in the series imo. When Aqua and Mickey are talking about Ven, and Sora and Riku talking about hurt within the heart? Yeah. I’ll cry.

Also, another sad scene: Isa and Lea as kids when Lea explains his whole “get it memorized” thing is so he can be remembered and live on, if need be. I cried real tears at that one.

Conversely, some of my favorite sweet scenes are: in the beginning of BBS when Aqua tells Ven and Terra they’d “make the weirdest brothers,” Sora meeting Santa in KH2(I think?) which reminds you hey, these are children, the scene right after they find out Goofy’s not dead and Donald flips out, Lea summoning his Keyblade for the first time(powermove,) and of course the series of reunions in KH3. There’s at least a solid scene or two in each game that really warms my cold sad heart.

Speaking of the KH3 reunions, the best one I think was Xion, Roxas, and Lea’s. At least with Aqua/Terra/Ven they started out with hope, and Aqua and Ven at least had the ability to hold onto that hope to get them through. The ex-Nobody crowd really didn’t have anything. Just the promise that they’d meet again, and maybe not even in this life. I will cry.

Some of the voice casting is surprisingly great. Like, Nala’s voiced by Vanessa Marshall, who did Gamora in the GOTG tv series. Love her. And Hynden Walch who does Starfire is the Alice voice at one point which was such a pleasant surprise.

Also hey, Zachary Levi went so fucking HARD on his voice work. Even Rapunzel has some lines that fall a little flat compared to the tone of the original, like the KH version of the “first time outdoors” sequence. But Flynn Rider has this consistent energy to him that I really love.

In ReCoded I really liked the second-person Mickey narration. Idk why. It just made me super happy.

Hercules is a movie that frequently becomes a level in these games and like every time they continue that trend of Phil’s “I got two words for you” joke like guys, wasn’t the thing in the original that it translated to two words in Greek? Not that he couldn’t count? Anyway that’s the best reoccurring joke. I hate it and love it in equal measure.

One of the frequent things in KH that I love is there’s this sense of ridiculousness to it. Like, it’s a lovely story with excellent worldbuilding and character designs, with a brilliantly complex plot, but like. You get into scenarios like the end of ReMIND, and Sora’s time-travelled to save his dying and sorta already dead friend(Kairi). He’s cradling his other dying friend in his arms and talking about how he found his way to them by tracing the connections between their hearts. Beautiful, poetic, showstopping, right? Except it’s Mickey motherfucking Mouse. You can’t find this anywhere else.

Speaking of ReMIND, the part where Sora connects all the keyhole things? It looks like a starry sky full of constellations? Yeah. Holy fucking SHIT is that pretty. I literally had to pause it twice to absorb the visuals in that scene.

To end off, here’s some of my pride headcanons: Terra and Xion are trans, Ventus and Riku are nonbinary, Saïx/Isa is agender, and Sora is genderfluid. Axel/Lea is pan, Kairi, Riku, and Sora are poly, and Aqua is bi. ((I definitely have more of these but these ones I think are most important.))

[xandertheundead]

gimmie hanbrough... with a splash of one of them stuck in traffic... and another splash of the other one at home horny... and a sprinkle of them having to listen to the other masturbate over the phone & can't do anything about it... and finally a whole ass pouring of dirty talk

Kimmi, my love. You wish, is my command.

NSFW below!

Mike tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, glaring at the five o’ clock traffic that was now bumper to bumper. He glanced at the clock and groaned, knowing there was no way he was making it home in time for dinner like he’d promised Bill. 

“I better call.” He sighed, quickly cutting his music. “Siri, call Bill.”

Calling Bill…

It took a little longer than normal for Bill to pick up and Mike raised an eyebrow when he heard Bill sound like he was out of breath when he picked up.

“H-hey, Babe!”

Mike had to bite his lip to stop a large grin from spreading across his face and the name, it being the only thing Bill said worked for Mike. He tried to squint and see if traffic was moving even the slightest, but they were at a standstill.

“Hey, B. So the meeting with Tanager Oaks ranch went really well.”

“That’s good!” Bill still sounded out of breath and Mike wondered what exactly his husband was doing because working out certainly wasn’t really Bill’s thing. He had learned that the hard way when he had asked Bill to help out on the farm when one of their hands had been sick. That poor white writers body didn’t stand a chance against that goat.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Bill hummed softly. “So your on your way home right?”

“Uhh…sorta.”

“Sorta?” Mike hadn’t expected Bill to sound so upset at that, knowing that neither of them preferred to be flexible unless it came to the farm. “What exactly does sorta mean?”

“Well, I’m a bit stuck in traffic. I mean, it’s bad traffic.”

He frowned when Bill swore softly under his breath, surprised by how suddenly irritated his husband was.

 “Do you know how long?” Bill whined, then started panting a little bit.

Mike glanced out at the car next to him, a man on his way home from the office looking just as upset as Bill sounded. “Probably going to be about forty-five minutes.”

“God damn it!”

“I’m sorry.” Mike tried, not really feeling like he should be because it wasn’t his fault they decided to redo the roads every five minutes, but Bill sounded so angry. “Is everything okay? I didn’t mean to get stuck here.”

He heard Bill groan, a little bit different than his ‘my editor is being mean’ groan and more like the kind Mike would hear from-

“No, I know you didn’t. Sorry.” Bill pushes out quickly. “I just, I planned something special for tonight and uh…I don’t think it can wait that long.”Mike frowned. “If it’s dinner the -“

“Not dinner.”

“Oh.”

They were both quiet and Mike gave Bill the time he needed, to gather what he wanted to say in his head before speaking. An old trick from his speech therapy years ago to help with his stutter.

“I’ve got a goddamn vibrator in me. Jesus.”

Mike was suddenly so glad his car was completely stopped already because he probably would have crashed at those words. He blinked a few times, wondering if it would be more efficient to walk home instead of wait here, the. He realized he’d been quiet for too long cause Bill’s uncertain voice spoke up again.

“Mike?”

“Oh, um, sorry, B. That’s-“ Mike was really at a loss for words with what to do here. They had talked about toys, but had never made the jump to use them and now- wow. “Are you…is it good?”

“Ha!” Bill let out a choked laugh. “I’m hard as a fucking rock.”

“Damn, Bill.” Mike muttered, shifting a little as his body started to react to the idea of Bill laying somewhere with a vibrator inside him. “Why didn’t you wait?”

“Wanted to surprise you…”

Mike licked his lips, glancing out at the other cars, no one was paying attention to him and for that he was glad. He reached over to grab his suit jacket, laying it over his lap a little with a small cough.

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” 

“Tell me about it.”

Bill was quiet for a moment, before a soft husky whisper echoed through Mike’s car. “You’re serious?”

“You’re the writer, B. Use your words.”

“Fuck. Um, alright. Where should I start?”

“From the beginning.”

He heard Bill let out a shuddering breath before he gave a soft okay, going quiet for a moment as Mike could hear him moving and laying down on their bed which creaked very slightly.

“Well, the vibrator isn’t as big as you, but it’s not small either. I had to make sure I opened myself up good enough for it to just slide in.” Mike heard the start of a whine in Bill’s throat and wondered what he was doing. “I got at least three in me before I was going nuts because it wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck.”

Bill gave a soft growl. “Not yet. God, Mike, we should have used toys sooner because when I shift just a certain way the vibrations-“

Bill let out a shocked gasp and Mike felt his cock jerk in his slacks. “Bill?”“Jesus!” Bill gasped, the whole car filled with his desperate groans. “Fuck that’s intense. God, Mike I need you to get home, this thing has been in me for an hour already, just driving me crazy. I-I fucking need you to come fuck me. I’m so hard.”

“God, I’m trying.” Mike growled, hand moving to undo his belt under his jacket. “When I get home I’ll make you scream, but right now I want you to touch yourself.”

Bill let out another groan and Mike could tell he was listening to his instructions by the way Bill’s breath hitched.

“Touch yourself and think about how when I get there, I’m going to spread you out on our bed and pull that damn thing out of you.” Mike got his pants undone, and sighed as he wrapped a hand around himself and started to stroke. “Fuck, you’ll be so open for me won’t you, Bill? So open I could just slide right into you, fuck you right away.”

Bill gasped and Mike could now hear the wet sound of Bill’s hand on his cock, going so fast, the poor guy must have been dying. Mike sped up his speed as well, his skin breaking out into goosebumps as the pleasure started to build rapidly.

“I’ll pin your legs up against your chest, spread you so wide and you’ll just lay there while I mess you up.”

“Mike!”

“Come on, B. Come on. I’ll fuck you raw too, I know how much you love it. Love watching my cum slide down your legs when you-“

“FUCK!”

Bill let out a loud groan and Mike knew what that meant, he sped his pace up and with a shaky moan came in the palm of his hand.

“Damn it..” Bill slurred over the line. “Get home soon.”

“Damn, baby. I’m trying.”

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