#just trust me on this one guys it’d be hysterical

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Three.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,207

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Bungalow Three of the Chateau Marmont. The last time she’d been there was six years before that coming September, her and Adrien checking in three days after they’d met, getting to know one another very intimately for the first time. On that particular afternoon of February twenty ninth, though, Jade was there sitting upon a highchair, having her brother-in-law paint her face immaculately, Jack’s skills as a makeup artist making him and her hair stylist brother Marco the perfect couple.  

“Does he even know you’ve changed your hair to this extent, sissy boo?” he asked, sliding the slim hair straighteners through Jade’s hair, the extensions he’d spent the previous afternoon affixing in shining beautifully.  

Sipping her iced coffee, she shook her head, receiving a stern look from Jack. “Miss lady! No moving while I set this concealer.” 

“Alright, calm your tits!” she cried, her assistant Kim laughing loudly from her place on the bed, welded to the telephone while receiving the logistics on when their car would arrive. “And no, he has no bloody idea and I’m quietly shitting myself. He’s never seen me anything other than blonde!” 

“And then you have your new little thingy in your mouth!” Jack exclaimed, Jade poking out her brand-new pierced tongue at him. She’d had it done in a moment of pure impulse two weeks before, and not seeing Adrien for three now, it’d be a double surprise for him. “Damned good for giving head, I can tell you! Lord, when your brother got his done, my dick did a happy dance!” 

Kim was in hysterics all over again, lying back on the bed hugging her sides. “Jack, you’re too much.” 

“Girl, trust me,” Marco spoke, working a comb through Jade’s hair, “my husband is just enough.” He then turned his attention to his sister. “How are those nerves, boo?” 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” she sighed, giggling a little. 

“As expected, Jade Lucia is at a level ten.”  

Ten thousand, more like. Just then, the door opened, revealing a sight she was glad to see, Adrien coming in and looking around.  

“Hey guys. Where’s my wife?” 

“Um, hi?” she spoke, waving, watching him shake his head. 

“You’re not my wife. You’re Morticia Addams.” He continued his searching of the room, before suddenly veering to kiss her. “Well, this’ll take some getting used to! Why the change?” 

“Fancied it,” she spoke, kissing him again. “Do you like it?” 

“I do.” His face then pinched with curiosity, poking her lips with his finger. “Hold up. Stick your tongue out.” She did, Adrien shaking his head as he laughed softly through his nose. “For god’s sake. Any other changes I gotta know about?” 

“Other than my blowjob game being amped up considerably? Nah, Bug. That’s it,” she grinned, sipping more of her coffee, her husband waiting until she’d released the straw to give her a kiss. 

“At least being married to you is never dull,” he spoke fondly, wheeling his suitcase across the room, pausing to receive a one-armed hug from his brother-in-law along the way. “I’m getting room service, I’m absolutely starving. Anyone want anything?” 

“Truffle fries, please, Ade!” Jack called, adding the faintest hint of peachy blush to Jade’s cheeks. 

“I’m good thanks, darling. I’m too nervous to eat.” 

Looking up at his wife, he then turned to Kim. “Please tell me she’s eaten something today, at least?” 

“Eggs benny this morning, but she’s been freaking out since midday,” her assistant confirmed. 

Placing the phone back down, he picked up the room service menu card. “Moo, at least eat something small?” 

Turning, she shook her head, poking out her bottom lip. “Can’t, honey. My tummy hurts. I’ll steal some of Jack’s fries if I can face them when they get here.” 

“Oh, the hell you will, sistah!” he exclaimed, laughing a little. 

“I’ll get two orders. It isn’t like Jack to pass up anything potato based if you can only manage a few,” he spoke with a wink, his brother-in-law aghast. “Oh, what’s with that face, man? You know damned well we have to buy in extra chips just for you to inhale when you guys come visit.” 

“Shaming me right in front of everybody! I haven’t eaten bread in seven years so I don’t have to give up my beloved potatoes, too!” 

Adrien shook his head, lifting the phone to his ear again. “That’s some LA diet bullshit right there, bro.”  

Once the food had arrived and duly been eaten, Adrien relieved to see Jade manage almost an entire plate of the fries herself, he went to change, Jade giving him a very approving one over with her eyes. Him in a well-tailored did things to her. After that, it was up to her, Marco and Jack to carefully get her into the slightly sheer, very long Alexander McQueen gown she’d borrowed for the event, scared to death of ripping it since the fabric was so fine and clingy.  

Beneath it, she wore a pair of black, glittery shoes with an enormous heel and platform, her black painted toes just about peeking out beneath the sheath of the long gown that flowed out behind her a little. 

As soon as she walked out, it was to her husband whistling the tune from the Addam’s Family, complete with finger clicks. “Looking sexy as hell, Morticia.” 

“Thank you,” she chuckled, picking up her perfume and giving herself a liberal spritz. “Okay, I think I’m ready. Honey, can I give you a couple of things to carry in your pocket? I don’t want to take a bag.” 

He nodded, Jade handing over her phone, lip balm and eyeliner, receiving kisses and wishes of all the good luck in the world from her little team before they ventured up to the hotel foyer, ready to meet her dad. It had been tough, attempting to choose which of her parents to bring with her, Gemma eventually taking the decision from her and deciding it on the fate of a coin toss. Steven had won. 

“Look at this, my daughter, the goth queen,” he greeted her with, chuckling. Of course, spending three days with her in LA prior to the awards, he’d seen her brand-new black hair, but the completed look was very striking. He too was so used to seeing her blonde, as she’d been for well over ten years.  

“Don’t you flippin’ start, too!” she chirped, jerking her head towards Adrien. “This one here is refusing to call me anything but bloody Morticia!” 

“Then this is all I shall call you as well,” he spoke, greeting his son-in-law with a hug. “You do look very lovely, though. Right then. Let’s get you onto that red carpet, hmm?” 

The Dolby Theatre was only an eleven-minute car ride away, but with the traffic and the timing of each car pulling up, it was half an hour until she was exiting the limo to a barrage of cheers, taking Adrien’s arm as she began walking up that aforementioned red carpet, still somewhat in disbelief that she was actually there at all.  

While they stood in front of the wall of cameras, their names called from all directions, Adrien lifted his chin, his eyes casting to her as his face lit up. By her side, he always stood his tallest, but now, it was with an extra gleam of pride. There she was, very possibly on her way to win her first Oscar, his wife, his best friend, his everything. Inside, he was elated, and it showed in the way he looked at her so adoringly. 

Being in the bungalow earlier, their last time there had come back to him, remembering it all just as if it had happened the day before, even though five and a half years and what felt like a couple of lifetimes had passed in the time between. He stood back to allow for her picture to be taken by herself, with her father as well, Steven being asked a few questions by reporters as Jade smiled and waved at the assembled crowd.  

“I’m a very proud dad, that’s for certain!” he spoke succinctly, kissing his daughter atop her head as she cuddled against him. A few more questions were asked by the press before they were ushered into the theatre and shown to the upper level, where celebrities mingled, and champagne was carried around on elegant trays by immaculately dressed wait staff. Jade was so nervous, she almost downed hers in one gulp.  

After a little mingling, they were shown into the auditorium itself and to their seats, the evening starting shortly after. There were two awards presented prior to best actress in a supporting role, but by the time it got there, she felt tingly and lightheaded. 

Her heart hammered like a drum as her co-nominees were read out by a very dapper looking Matthew McConaughey, Jamie Lee Curtis, Renee Zellweger, her, Scarlet Johansson and Reese Witherspoon. Nope. She’d never get it. All predictions were firmly on Jamie to scoop the award. She hadn’t even prepared a speech, so convinced she was that she would never beat such acting greats as the four other women she was up against.  

“And the Oscar goes to...” The envelope was opened, Matthew leaning towards the microphone with a smile. “Jade Burton-Brody.” 

Her soul left her body in that moment, her hands flying to her mouth in shock as Adrien threw his arms around her. “My baby love! You did it!”  

She’d won.  

She’d won? 

What?! 

“I’m so proud of you, monkey!” her dad spoke, his voice trembling with emotion as he kissed her cheek, Jade gathering her dress to make her way to the stage, turning back to them and mouthing “oh my bloody hell!” She then had a very rapidly moving Robert DeNiro arriving before her, hugging her tightly as he offered his congratulations and kissed her cheek before he held her arm and escorted her up the steps. It was an unprecedented, but lovely gesture from a man she was now lucky enough to count as a good friend.  

Walking across the stage, she was beyond elated, but still absolutely stunned to her bones as Matthew gave her a kiss and handed over her award, standing back to applaud her. Moving to the small lectern, she went to speak, no words coming out as her mouth dropped open, her face a hilarious picture of complete shock that had the entire theatre in hysterics as they continued to applaud her. Finally, she found her voice as the audience settled. 

“I have to give a speech, and I’m speechless. For those of you who know me, you know that this is not on brand for a woman with a mouth as big as mine,” she began, everyone bursting into laughter and gentle applause. Holding the golden statue, her hands shook, her eyes finding her husband, watching him nod. God, he looked so thrilled for her. Taking a deep breath, she continued, with tears pooling her eyes.  

“There are too many people to thank, honestly, way too many. From everybody who worked so tirelessly on the crew of our film, to the amazingly talented people I was so fortunate to co-star with. Robert, you became like a second father to me during filming, and I love and appreciate you so very much for your mentorship,” she continued, looking down to where the legendary actor sat, blowing him a kiss he returned, on his feet again while applauding.  

“I want to thank the Academy for even considering me in the first place, but most of all I want to thank my family for being so supportive and loving. My dad is right down there, daddy I love you so, so much.” Her voice broke, watching her dad beam, drying his eyes on the back of his hand. “Thank you for always believing in me and telling me I could be anything, just as long as I wasn’t a Republican.” 

The audience once again burst into laughter, Jade giggling through the tears that began to splash her cheeks. “And I want to thank the other most important man in my life, my amazing husband. Five years ago, I married a man whose faith in me has never wavered, whose love and support have meant more to me than any words I could try and reach for to thank him, and for that I am truly the most fortunate woman. I never thought I’d be standing up here accepting this.” She paused then, looking down at the statue in her hands, pointing to the plaque. “Oh, look at that. It says I beat Jamie.” 

The audience exploded, the laughter of Jamie Lee Curtis booming as she stood, leading another standing ovation from the crowd, her hands raised above her head as she applauded. The love, the acceptance from her peers, these people who were true acting greats, all cheering her success. She couldn’t believe that they truly saw her as one of them.  

How was this real? 

“Thank you, thank you all so much.” she finished, stepping away from the microphone to be escorted from the stage, still in a state of shock. Everything whirled around her in a blur, being congratulated, given a glass of champagne and a minute of calm to absorb her win.  

Standing there, being approached by well-wishers still, told how wonderful she was, her heart hammered in her chest, wishing that she had the support of her husband. She could have done with a hand to hold onto, if for nothing else but to steady her from feeling like she was about to faint.  

“I did it. Bloody hell.” she muttered, looking down at the statue in her hand. Her cheeks hurt from the width of her smile. A few minutes passed before she was ferried straight to the hotel next door for photographs and a brief Q&A with a gaggle of attending journalists. All the way through, she simply couldn’t believe it had happened to her, so thankful, stunned and bowled over that her career had reached such a peak as to have won an Oscar for her work.  

Since her award was presented so early in the night, she was escorted back to the theatre, taking her seat between Adrien and her dad once more.  

“You look like you might faint, Moo,” he spoke quietly, resting his hand on her thigh as she leaned into him, her other hand reaching for her dad’s grasp. 

“I need a Jack Daniel’s the size of my bloody head!” As soon as they arrived at the party afterwards, it was the first thing he put in her hand.  

“You!” she then heard, turning to see the very wide arms of one Ms. Jamie Lee Curtis approach, pulling her into a huge hug. “If I was going to lose to anyone, I am thrilled it was you. You were immaculate in that movie, simply brilliant. All my congratulations, sweetheart.”  

Again, there was her soul, clean leaving her body, a photographer taking a picture of them as she thanked Jamie for her grace, revealing she thought it was her who would have been standing in her place, hence her joke up there on the stage. She was the approached by two of her other co-nominees, both Reece and Scarlet offering their congratulations, followed by a slew of other very famous people.  

“There she is. There’s my adopted daughter.” He was man of the hour, Robert DeNiro winning best actor, their film also earning the coveted best picture and best original score awards, too, seeking her out to give her a big hug. “You raised one hell of a girl here, sir.” he then spoke warmly to her dad, shaking his hand. Her dad looked absolutely delighted, a few more photographs taken, Jade standing with her mouth hanging open when she was then approached by her absolute idol.  

“Congratulations, Jade. It’s fabulous to meet you and get a chance to say just how much I have admired your work.”  

Jessica Lange, grasping her hands and leaning to kiss her cheek. Jessica. Lange. There it was again, the feeling that she was about to faint, the great actress then leaning in close to whisper. “And I have to say, your taste in men is impeccable. Your husband is an absolute fox!”  

Adrien heard, snorting into his glass of champagne, Jade looking at him and then back at Jessica. “Isn’t he, though? And thank you so much, to have somebody I admire so greatly tell me that is mind blowing. Truly.”  

She nodded graciously. “Enjoy your night, darling.”  

With a few more people met, she began to feel overwhelmed, ducking out to the smoking area at the back of the hotel. She and Adrien mostly only social smoked those days, that night being one of the occasions Adrien had a pack on him.  

“How you feeling, baby love?” he asked, Jade standing fanning herself.  

“Still a bit... yeah... head is fried, innit!” she exclaimed, having him lean in to kiss her, her heels putting her just about as tall as him. “But you being right here is steadying. I needed you backstage, I was on the verge of a panic.” 

As he guessed as soon as he left the stage, sharing with his father-in-law that she was probably have a tiny internal meltdown. “I thought you might have been. You can breathe now, though, relax. It’s your night, you enjoy it.”  

And boy, how she did. Walking back in, she literally walked right into the open arms of someone who wasn’t just a fellow famous face, but a genuine friend. She and Norman Reedus had met while working on the same film many years before, striking up a firm friendship, Norman yelling with delight as he rocked her enthusiastically in a huge hug. 

“You fucking did it!” she shouted over the loud music, kissing her cheek. “I’m proud of you, bud!” 

“Thank you, babe!” she cried, returning the cheek kiss, being lifted up in his arms and swung around before he placed her down and greeted Adrien with a hug. The guys had met a long time before Jade had entered either of their lives, working on a film together in the late nineties while they’d both still been up and coming in their careers.  

While most people revelled in the party atmosphere until the very, very early hours, Jade called it a night at 1am, she and Adrien getting into a waiting car to be escorted back to the Chateau Marmont, her dad having left already at around midnight. 

“I still can’t believe this is mine,” she spoke, placing the little, but deceptively heavy little golden man down on the end table when they arrived in the bungalow, shaking her head in wonder. “Hey, shall we bookend them, yours and mine?” 

Adrien snorted a laugh, his hand rubbing a circle at her lower back. “Yeah, why not? Mine is already on the end of a shelf in the office anyway.” They were nowhere near so pretentious as to have their awards out on open show in their home, Adrien’s four and Jade’s one (her Primetime Emmy for her starring role in the TV series The Nobodies) all residing in their office. “So, do I have to help you get out of this dress, since it took two people to get you in it?” 

“Yes, but very carefully! No horny Brody gusto!”  

He winked, Jade moving her bum length curtain of hair for him to locate the hidden zip. “Alright, but I can’t promise I’m not gonna be the same when I get to your underwear.” They were both a little drunk, Adrien hiccupping as he carefully helped her inch her way out of the garment, wincing a little. After all, she’d told him earlier that night just how much it was worth, the couture piece a one-off design. Once the dress was off, she went to hang it back in its bag, Adrien doing the same with his suit as well before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed.  

Smouldering desire ran rich over the path his hands took, his kisses pressed hot onto her skin, ever descending as he dragged his thumb through her folds. She shook, his touch so perfect it made constellations glitter behind her closed eyelids, feeling her clit hood gently thumbed back as he made way for the deliciously hot roll of his tongue. 

“God, fuck.” she breathed, hands grasping at the linen beneath her, her bud bathed in firm, wet heat. He then took it away teasingly, those burning kisses of desire placed in ascension upon her thigh. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, his thumb returning in glide over her slit a few times in tease, his shuddered breath hitting her where she was pink and soft, her hands going to his hair.  

He nudged through her folds, seeking her clit, laying flat licks over it in a ceaseless whirl, groaning hungrily as he devoured her, hands gripping her bum, leaving crescents behind upon her pale fresh from the hard grasping, looking up at her, her head tilted back, beautiful lips agape. God, how he loved his wife to her very bones, and hell, how she aroused him right to the marrow of his.   

His tongue lapped at her quickly, without tease or pause, building her steadily, Jade feeling the sting of arousal prickling her insides as she began to pant. “Oh fuck, right there, ohhh!” she whined, his tongue moving over her clit speedily, his cock hardening. He wanted her so badly; he wasn’t content to wait a moment longer.  

Emerging, he turned her over, pushing against the streaming mess of her cunt and drawing a deep moan from her as he plunged between her walls, the sight of her mountains of dark hair splaying in cascade down her back more erotic than he bargained for. Sweeping those tresses aside, he leaned to swipe a long, slow lick up her spine, driving himself into her hard. 

“I’ve wanted this all damned night, with how sexy you looked, baby.” he grunted, breaching her so deeply, her cries filling the air. “Yeah, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, honey? Wanted to get fucked nice and hard, huh?”  

He went about doing just that so efficiently, her response was unformed words, gasping as she cried out, Adrien arrowing into her so brutally, she felt like she was about to go right through the headboard she reached to grasp. She pulled herself out of it, though, turning to kiss him fiercely, moving to straddle his thighs and sink down on top of him. His arms wrapped around her, rolling his hips up against each of her downward movement, every inch of his thick shaft rutting her deeply with slow purpose before once more, he began pounding her with aggressive need. 

She whimpered in response to his voracity, nails tearing at his back, grasping in his hair, mouth at his neck before her mouth met his, kisses gilded in sugar coated embers, moaning against one another. His hands clutched at her bum, releasing to spank her hard, her teeth sharp at his neck as the molten hug of her cunt sent stars streaking through him.   

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted breathlessly, clutching her body tightly to his, wild heat roaring through them like a forest fire. 

“Love you too, honey.” she purred, tongue swiping his neck, kissing along his jaw until her mouth met his again, their kisses all smoky storm. The fever sizzled to bright burn, her nails tearing into his back as she arched against him, the neon of her undoing blazing across his sky as he bit her nipple, hips shunting his orgasm into her, spilling thick and deep into the fluttering velvet clenching around him.  

Their want would have had them all over one another for longer, but the tranquil bliss of their unravelling, the tiredness from such a high energy evening, and the copious amounts of alcohol had them asleep after a few moments of tender stroking and kissing, sleeping until late the following morning. When Adrien awoke, it was to the sight of Jade already awake, following her eyes over to the end table.  

“Still staring at the little golden fella, huh?”  

Her lips spread a beautiful smile, turning to sink into his arms. “Yep. I still can’t believe I won it.” 

Stroking her back, he kissed the top of her head. “You know, when I won, mom, dad and I went back to my rental place, and she said something that stayed with me. She said that there’d been three people in the room before, and now with my Oscar, there were four. I revert to mom’s words here. There’s three people in the room.” 

Looking up at him, she laughed softly, remembering the story from when Lois herself had told it to her a few years before. Except in this instance. Adrien wasn’t correct when he stated there were three people in the room, because there weren’t. 

As of the early hours of that morning, there were four.  

[maxiesucks]

post movie rise

Donatello felt infinitely lucky to have Casey Jr.  here to help with Leo’s care. He had no idea what he was doing; Leo was the medic, but here he was now, half-dead on the cot he’d treated them all on before. Except, he wasn’t half-dead anymore. He’d actually been recovering quite nicely, it’d only been about a week and a half since the Invasion, and his shell was nearly a quarter of the way through healing over.

Leo was put into a medical induced coma a week and a half ago. When he’d come through the portal from the pris- that horrible place, he was hysterical. He was in so much pain, with a cracked shell and multiple breaks in just about every bone in his body, but somehow.. he was still here. Donnie didn’t believe in miracles, but this could well be classified as one. Any other person, even himself, would have died from either shock from the pain or just blood loss. It was surprising to find that no bits of bone had launched themselves into Leo’s brain.

Donnie was worried. Leo had been unconscious for a week and a half,  by order of Casey, and Donnie trusted him well enough, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. What if he was wrong? What if Leo had some sort of super-serious undetected brain injury that hadn’t had time to heal itself properly before they put him under, and he doesn’t wake up? What.. what if his brother turns into a vegetable?

Donnie sat on the stool beside the cot and held his wet face in his hands. Crying wasn’t his thing, he doesn’t like to cry. But since the invasion, he’s been practically inconsolable. Something about seeing all of his family so hurt and not knowing how to help them made him want to sob.

He held Leo’s hand gently, listening to the small but labored breaths escaping him. It was horrible. He closed his eyes.

He felt his hand squeeze.

Donnie’s head shot up from his hand. He saw Leo’s eyes open blearily, and he let out a choked sob. He was awake. 

“Leo.” He said with a soft smile, tears falling gently down his cheeks.

Leo grumbled, looking around the room with exhausted confusion. “Don?” He said, voice hoarse and eyes sort of looking through him.

“Yeah, Lee, I’m here.” Donnie could feel the tears fall faster. He might have to review his beliefs, because this was nothing short of a miracle.

Leo tried to sit up, but Donnie stopped him. He was connected to so many IVs and heart monitors that Casey had lost count for a second.

“Hey, take it easy. You got really hurt, but it’ll be okay.”

“..Is Raphie okay?” He mumbled, voice so crackly and broken up that it was hard to understand, but Donnie got it.

“Yeah, Raph’s alright. We’re all okay, don’t worry. Just focus on getting better. Everything’s alright.”

Leo hummed. He closed his eyes. “’M sorry.” He mumbled. What?

“..Sorry? What for?” Donnie asked, squeezing Leo’s hand gently. He had nothing to apologize for.

“I got you all hurt. I was ‘sposed to fix it, but I made it worse. ‘N then I tried to fix it again, but you guys saved me. …Why did you save me?”

It was obvious that Leo wasn’t all there. He’d just woken up from a week-long coma, of course he wasn’t. But this clearly wasn’t just pain med-high rambling.

“..What?” What the hell does he mean: ‘why did you save me?’ Of fucking course they did, Leo’s their brother!

“Why’d you save me?” Leo repeated, the same grumbly tone as the first time.

“Because you’re our brother. Of course we saved you. Did you.. not want to be saved?” That was a horrifying thought. Did- was Leo.. suicidal?

“Well.. like-” Leo tried to navigate a sentence. it was clearly taking a lot of energy from him. Maybe he should go back to sleep. Donnie wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to his question anyway.

“Maybe you should rest some more.”

“I didn’ deserve to be saved, Don.”

Donnie’s heart dropped. Yes, he absolutely fucking did. When did he start feeling this way?

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’. I- I got you all hurt. I don’ know what ‘m doing, ‘m a terrible leader.”

“You just need practice.”

“No, Don, i’s- you all got hurt ‘cause of me. ‘N you still saved me.”

“Because we love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Donnie’s jaw fell slack. He’d never seen this side of his brother before.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Of course we should love you, you’re our brother. You’re my twin.”

“I thought we weren’t twins.”

“I changed my mind.”

Leo hummed. “I thought you didn’ do that.”

“Well, I did, is that so hard to believe?”

“A little.” Leo chuckled a bit, wheezy and sad-sounding.

[azumasoroshi]

in honor of the doki doki takeover mod i made this shitpost hope yall despise it

i just think it’d be really funny if senpai came back with monika in the fifth chapter and did absolutely nothing but everyone wanted him to leave anyways

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis And Stu Macher x Reader- Our Favorite Girl (Slight gore warning)

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...(Trigger warning, stabby stab)

“Hey newbie!” 

You looked up from your textbook to find Stu Macher prancing up to you. With a polite smile, you greeted him.

“Hi Stuart.” you said. “How are you?”

“Hey! I said you didn’t have to be so ‘oooh hi Stuart I’m so prim and proper.’ “ he laughed out loud. “We’re friends aren’t we?” 

“I guess so.” you laughed nervously. “ Um...what’s up?”

“I’m havin’ a party and you’re coming!”

“Parties?” You frowned. “I-uh...” you wanted to reject the idea. You hated parties and your parents would probably blow a fuse if they knew what was going on around town. ‘Stuart, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, kitten?” he winked. “Afraid to be seen with little ol’ me?” there was a darkness behind his words that you couldn’t ignore. “Don’t like being out after dark?”

“I’m not the partying type is all.” you shrugged. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the most popular person around here.” you stared down at your shoes. “I just don’t wanna ruin your party. I’m the last person you wanna be seen with.”

“It’d make me real happy, kitten.” he stepped forward and slipped his fingertips under your chin and made you look up. “Please? Just for a few minutes.”

Call it weakness, but you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay.” you smiled lightly. “I’ll go”

“Great! Don’t worry, it’ll be super memorable.” he winked as he skipped off. 

Later on, you were walking to your locker only to bump into Adam. Typical bully. “Hey Y/N. Heard you were going to Macher’s party tonight...you gonna wear a dress for me?”

“No.” you answered curtly. “It’s amazing how you don’t seem to have anything better to do other than shove your nose into my business.” you hugged your books to your chest. “Can I go now?.”

“Hey...is there a problem?” you turned around to find Billy Loomis stalking up to you. You had seem him a handful of times but never actually talked to him before. “You...where do I know you from?”

“I sit behind you in English. We had a project together once.” you replied sheepishly. “Stuart forces me to sit between him and his girlfriend at lunch when they’re fighting. You talk to me from time to time...”

“Stuart...” he raised an eyebrow. “You mean Stu?”

“mhm! You probably don’t remember me because I never reply...” you nodded. 

“You goin’ to his party or somethin’?”

“He asked me to go.” you trailed off. “You’re going too, right?”

“ Why? Excited to meet me there?”“ he smirked, totally ignoring Adam at this point. 

“I mean...” you stared down at your books. “I was hoping someone I’d know would be there.”

Billy raised an eyebrow at you. You gave off a shy aura and for some reason he was into that. He and Stu had been planning a massacre, and they were gonna blame that damned Sydney Prescott. It was the perfect crime. 

“Hm...I’ll see you there.” he winked at you, then sent a death-bringing glare at Adam. “Problem, handsome?” he sneered as he passed the athlete.

... at the party

“Not even three hours in and I have to hide...” you cursed yourself out. “Damn asshole...!” 

Adam was informed that you had arrived and was looking for you, shit!

You ran into the kitchen, losing your breath. “Billy?” 

The suspect in question whipped around. Billy was holding what you assumed was the house phone and instantly hung it up. “Hey...”

“Am I glad to see you.” you sighed.

“Somethin wrong?” 

Billy was in the middle of executing his plan, but for some reason he couldn’t help but want to talk to you. 

“Adam is looking for me.” you sighed. “Could I...stay here with you? Please?”

Billy smiled, darting out his tongue to run across his bottom lip. You were absolutely adorable. “I have a better idea.” he smirked, walking up to you. “Why don’t we send him a little message?”

“You have a girlfriend.” you put a hand on Billy’s chest. “I c-can’t.”

“Not anymore...she dumped me for Randy.” he tusked. ”Figures right?”

“Well...that’s her fault...you’re pretty cool.” you bit your lip.

“So...” Billy tilted your head up towards you. “Let me-”...he gently kissed your lips. While it felt wrong, you melted into him. He held the side of your face in his hand. Sidney wasn’t your friend, not by a longshot, but you still respected her. The fact that Billy was so willing to kiss you, like this.

“For once...stop worrying about other people.” he mumbled against your lips. “Just live in the moment...shit I know what I want...you know what you want...so act on it damnit.”

“Are we still talking about getting Adam off me back or-”

“Shush...don’t think.”

“Kinda hard to when your girlfriend is in the other room”

“Shut up.” he shushed you, tightening his arms around you. You kissed him back with just as much urgency. How would the others react, seeing this...seeing you. Billy backed you up against the counter. Before it could get any farther, you both heard screaming, girlish screaming. 

“What the hell was that?” you asked, feeling your heart race.

“Stay here.” Billy ran in the direction of the noise, leaving you to stand there in terror.

You could hear screams and cries for help, followed by what sounded like gleeful laughter. You were left frozen in place as a man with a mask on his face kicked open the kitchen door. 

You immediately braced yourself with a kitchen knife.

“Stay back!” you warned. “I will cut you!”

“Easy kitten, I’m not gonna kill ya.”

Call it ignorance. Call it instinct, but there was something familiar about the way this stranger spoke to you.

“What did you just say?” you dared ask this man. “Did you just call me kitten?”

“You’re naive, childish...and adorable...like a little kitty cat.” the way he laughed under the mask led you to believe he was laughing with his tongue stuck out.

There was only one person that you knew who spoke like that. You slowly lowered the knife and walked up to him cautiously. The figure didn’t move in the slightest. You were standing toe to toe with him. 

You cautiously raised the mask only revealing the bottom half of the strangers face...only they weren’t a stranger.

“Stu.” you concluded.

“....You said my name.” he flirted.

“Care to explain?”

“In a bit...got something to take care of.” he straightened his mask again before disappearing again.

It was only less than a minute before Stu came quite literally crawling back into the kitchen.

Stu doubled over, holding his stomach as you rushed over to his side. “Stu?” you put a hand on his forehead. “Stu, please don’t be dead!” you winced. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” That damn Sidney...she must have had something to do with this.

“Y/N...it hurts.” Stu moaned in pain. “Hold me?” 

You wasted no time in gathering him to the best of your abilities. He rested his head in your knee. You hummed thoughtfully, shushing him while you used his sweater to apply pressure to his stab wound.

“Y/N, are you sure you aren’t an angel?” He shamelessly flirted, smiling through his pain.

“No, I’m not.” you giggled. ”Save your energy.”

“I’d have more if you just gave me those lips of yours...” he winked. Just to shut him up, you kissed his forehead. 

“Not what I meant, but works for me.”

 As you chided the poor boy, Sydney ran into the kitchen, screaming at the top of her lungs while Billy also wounded stumbled behind. 

“Billy??” you gasped in horror. Seeing you must have caused him to loose his footing, because he slowed his movements. You laid Stu on his back and urged him keep his sweater over his wound. 

You scrambled to your feet, eyeing Sidney with a glare no one had ever seen you wear.

“Y/N! You’ve got to believe me! They’ve been the ones doing this.”

“I find that really hard to believe that when you were just standing over Stu with a bloody knife.” you seethed. “Your own boyfriend? Really?” you dared step closer.

“Y/N! They’re manipulating you!” she began crying. “You have to see it!” She was obviously hysterical.

“Then give me the knife.” you faked calm, cautiously stepping towards her. “Give me the knife...and we can-” you stopped yourself. You looked over at Billy, praying he wouldn’t be mad. “We’ll call the cops.” you you held your hand out.

“WHAT?” Billy seethed. You avoided his gaze. Hopefully he wouldn’t sense your fear. 

“Trust me...” you said, just barely above a whisper. You were mostly talking to Billy, but had to make it look like it was directed at her. “We can get out of this...”

Sidney (very stupidly) outstretched her hand, the one that was holding the knife. Once it was within your reach, you grabbed her wrist, and grabbed the blade with your free hand, throwing it to the side. You tackled to to the floor and held her down.

“Crazy bitch.” you mumbled. She began thrashing, and screaming bloody murder. You were eventually able to get the best of her. “Whoever is the least dead...COPS...NOW!” You struggled as Sidney screamed. “This bitch is out of her mind!.”

“I have a better idea.” A seemingly fine, and now very much not dead Stu rose to his feet, a sick smile plastered on his face. The knife had slid over to him and you hadn’t even realized. You were too focused on keeping Sidney on the floor.

Suddenly you were yanked back into Billy’s arms as a sharp object came down from above, plunging through Sidney’s chest. 

“Oh my god!” you buried your head into Billy’s shirt, trying to block out the terrible sounds you heard the terrible sounds of skin ripping. 

“Shhh it’s over babe.” He shushed you. “It’s okay.” he stroked your hair with his bloody hand. Stu laughed manically as he wiped the sweat off his face. 

“Some party huh.” Stu cackled. He wasted no time in sandwiching you between himself and Billy.

“You had us thinking you’d betray us, Kitten.” Stu dug his head into your shoulder.

“Y/N would never do that to us...she’s our good girl.”

“You guys are-”

“Absolutely.”

“And this party was-”

“Smart girl.”

“And now that you know our little secret, we’re never letting you go, kitten!” Stu laughed. 

“And if you tell anyone, we’ll have no choice but to take you down with us...but you won’t do that to us, will you?” Billy asked, nuzzling his head into your neck.

[captain-yeet]

Rhythm of the Night (Felix Volturi x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You weren't much of a nightclub girl. After some prodding by your friends, you gave in and decided to give it a shot. At the same time, a vampire had chosen the club you're at as his hunting grounds for the night...

Word count: 2.4k words.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, harrassment, Felix is a h0rny bastard, y'all beware

Author note: I guess I’m back? And with shameless sorta smutty Felix content to boot? Can’t say I’m surprised at myself - the thirst for this man is endless. Anyway, enjoy! I’m back to supply with more hot Volturi guard content.

Loud, blaring music? Check.

Standing awkwardly with a drink in your hand? Check.

Two out of three of your friends ditching you in this too-big-for-it's-own-good club? Double check.

You'd had a long week. Your job was driving you nuts, and things were getting on top of you in a bad way. After visiting you and seeing you curled up on the couch with a distant look in your eyes, your friends had dragged you into your bedroom, gotten you looking like a full snack and dragged your ass to a nightclub.

A nightclub, you mentally sighed, the lights flashing distracting you. It HAD to be a nightclub. I better not regret this.

"Come on, Y/N, loosen up!" Your friend next to you whined, a playful grin on their face.

"I've never been to one of these places before," you admitted loudly, your voice barely audible even with shouting.

Shaking their head, your remaining friend laughed. "Come, trust me."

Taking the drink from your clammy hand and setting it aside on a random surface, they pulled you into the fray of people dancing. A new song had begun and the excited cheers of the crowd were almost as loud as the song itself.

Leaning in, you heard your friend say, "Just follow my lead and have fun your way!"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, and began swaying to the music along with your friend.

Entering the human infested club, Felix groaned internally. Demetri, because of course he would, suggested that he try and find a meal at the nearest nightclub in their vicinity.

"Lots of humans, especially ones who expect to have a fun night out!" Demetri had said casually, "just use your charm and lure one out."

Some days, I really do hate that man, Felix grumbled internally as the humid air and the scent of drunk people hit his face as he neared the sea of dancers. Scanning the faces and the scents of the crowd, he searched for his meal.

Demetri wasn't wrong; one of the best places to hunt were in fact nightclubs, along with dingy alleys in busy cities, hiking trails... and if you were desperate enough even regular old bars in cozy towns.

He wasn't desperate enough to risk his neck picking off a local from a bar. Too many people who know each other personally in bars. Nightclubs will do for the night.

Felix zeroed in on a potential victim; a random young man dancing with a girl and another man suggestively in the fray. He had no issue turning on his charm for the same sex - at the end of the day, they're all the same. All food.

A focused look on his face, he began to approach the man.

Midway through navigating the dancing humans, his hunt was interrupted by a body being shoved into him and a loud yell of "I said don't fucking touch me!"

Blinking, Felix's dark eyes darted from the person who was shoved into him and the one who shoved said person. A woman stood in front of him, glaring at their assailant with a mix of fury and fear rolled into one unfocused stare.

"... Just a friendly touch bitch, geez." the assailant grumbled, inaudible to human ears, but Felix just managed to catch it.

The woman's eyes shifted up to him. The wind felt like it'd been knocked out of him both by her scent as he paid more attention to her, and her mere presence itself. It was captivating, alluring even. Like a lasso had been thrown over him and was tugging him forward towards her.

She was captivating.

                                                            ~~

You found yourself staring at the absurdly tall man in front of you like an idiot. Out of all the times you had to find yourself stunned speechless by how handsome someone was, your subconscious picked a brilliant time to do so.

Handsome was an understatement, you thought hazily.

Almost forgetting the man who had put his hands on you without your consent, you shook your head and backed away quickly. Don't be creepy, don't be creepy, don't be creepy by staring at the hot guy, you chanted internally.

Pushing through the crowd again, you searched for any of your friend's faces. Tonight was taking a weird turn and you just wanted to forget the weird shit.

After what felt like a millennia, your anxiety fueled by the bone rattling bass of the music that vibrated through your body and the club itself, you found the friend that stood with you when the others had ditched.

They took one look at your expression and a look of concern lit their eyes. "You okay?" they mouthed, gently reaching out and rubbing your shoulder reassuringly.

Nodding shakily, you gave a weak smile. "Got lost," you mouthed back.

Half an hour later and with a bit of booze in your system, you finally let loose. You were still upset about the guy touching you but you pushed it to the back of your mind for now; this would be the first and last time you go clubbing, you thought.

Dancing with your friend, you closed your eyes and lost yourself in the rhythm of the song that was playing, giggling all the way.

"Hey, Y/N!" You heard your friend call. Opening your eyes, they motioned off to the side with a devilish grin. "You've got an admirer!"

Following her gaze, you searched until you spotted who they were talking about, and promptly felt the blood in your cheeks boil from more than just being tipsy.

It was the insanely tall hot guy from earlier.

And he was looking directly at you.

"Aw man, what do I doooooo?" You whined loudly, desperately looking at your friend for help.

"What do you mean?" they replied, laughing.

You leaned in closer so they could hear you better. "He's too pretty for me," you hissed. You quickly sneaked another glance at him and... he was laughing?

Oh god is my mere appearance that funny? You thought to yourself.

"Why don't you go find out?" Your friend whispered back, giggling. “Or better yet, let’s tease him!”

Go find out? Are they mad? What if he rejects me and I have to live with being rejected by a ethereal-looking hot person? What if they don't?

Wait, tease how-?

Your friend suddenly grabbed your hips and the dance turned very sexual in nature. Catching along to their plan, you grinned, albeit a little manically due to pure anxiety, and matched your friend’s suggestiveness.

 “Oh yeah, it’s working,” they whispered in your ear. “Look.”

Turning your body away from your friend to allow them to grind behind you as your hips swayed in sync to the rhythm of the song playing, you felt very satisfied when you saw the handsome man staring straight at you like a rabbit in headlights.

Damn, it worked!

At your smug grin, the man straightened up out of his daze with a dark look in his eyes.

 “I think he wants youuuuu,” your friend cooed in your ear.

To hit the final nail in your coffin, he lifted one of his hands palm up, curling four fingers with a smirk on his face. He was calling you over.

Your heart leaped out of your chest. This is fine.

Taking a deep breath and deciding "Fuck it", you made your way over to the ridiculously tall hot man, not before finishing a shot your friend had placed in your hand from who-knows-where. You silently thanked them for the extra liquid courage. Weaving through the crowd, you tried to steady your ever-growing nerves as you got closer to the mysterious stranger.

                                                           ~~

“What do I dooooo?” the pretty young lady whined to her friend, prompting her friend to ask her why. “He’s too pretty for me,” she hissed, barely audible over the bass of the music.

Felix laughed obnoxiously at her distress. The sight of her pretty eyes going wide when he beckoned her to him was one thing, but “He’s too pretty for me” sent him off the edge into a fit of amused almost-hysterical laughter.

Get a handle on yourself, he chided himself. Quickly as he lost his composure he regained it, waiting for the human’s decision, a little smidge of anxiety rising in his chest. What if she decides not to come over? Then my chances with the little human are blown.

The thought made his mind short-circuit. I referred to her as if she was mine...

There wasn’t time to ponder it further thought; as his train of thought refocused on his surroundings as she did something very unexpected.

Her friend whispered something into her ear and before he knew it he was watching her dance very suggestively in front of him. They teamed up to taunt him.

And it was working. Felix almost completely forgot about his thirst for blood as pure lust took over his senses. Oh she’s going to be the death of me, he groaned internally, his eyes trained on every motion her body made. Felix’s thoughts quickly and shameless went into the gutter as he began picturing how’d she feel dancing like that against him... and on his lap... and also what he’d do in retaliation to the teasing.

Her friend whispered something else into her ear, the snake to his sweet Eve in the garden, and they both turned to look at him. Backing away from her friend, the woman took a deep breath and he could hear her growl the words “Fuck it,” downing a shot handed to her by her friend before beginning to stride over toward him.

Standing up a little straighter, he tried to turn off the very dirty thoughts running laps in his mind as she came closer. He wanted this to succeed, after all. A small polite smile crept onto his face as the pretty lady appeared before him.

 “Hi,” she greeted him wearing a nervous smile, a different persona standing before him from the seductress that taunted him on the dancefloor.

Felix grinned, turning on the full power of his charm on the helpless girl. “I uh, couldn’t help but recognize you from earlier, how are you feeling after that earlier incident?”

She froze at the pet name, then her pretty eyes narrowed as she was trying to recall the events in her drunken state. When it clicked they widened. “Right! Yeah... that wasn’t very fun.” Pausing a moment, she stared at Felix’s chest, shyly refusing to meet his gaze. “Thank you for stepping in. Really, I appreciate it.”

This poor sweet thing, Felix thought to himself, completely enamored. She goes from being loud and unaware of how loud she’s being with her friend to shy and bashful trying to talk to me.

 “Make a move, idiota,” Demetri’s voice chimed in, putting extra emphasis on the last mocking word; where exactly he was Felix had no idea, but, with his old friend taunting him from the shadows, he decided it was now or never.

 Felix ducked down and leaned in closer to Y/N’s face, speaking clearly in her ear. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” 

Y/N’s heart hammered away frantically even before he finished asking; most likely due to how close he now was to her, Felix concluded, but he’d like to think it was also due to some level of mutual attraction. 

He hoped, anyway.

 “It’s Y/N,” she answered, subconsciously turning her head a little toward Felix’s face.

 “Well Y/N, it was my pleasure to keep creepy assholes off you.”

Oh dear lord why did I say it like that? He chided himself internally, cringing after the sentence left his mouth. I might as well have said “thanks for being harassed, sexy.”

Over the heavy bass of the club’s music, Demetri’s cackling laughter further teased Felix.

To his surprise - and safe to say Demetri’s, from wherever he was lurking and watching this unfold - Y/N giggled, the melodic sound growing in volume till it became an obnoxious booming laugh of her own. Pulling back to stand at his full height again, Felix looked at Y/N like she’d grown two heads.

 “Well, please feel free to keep more creeps away from me in the future,” she said casually, like Felix hadn’t said something awkward. “Mind telling me your name?”

Blinking a couple times just to compose himself - and keep up the “human” appearance - he grinned back at her. “Felix.”

Y/N matched Felix’s grin with one of her own, and from that moment Felix knew he was hooked on her. He was so absorbed by her smile that he didn’t notice her pulling out her phone. 

 “Gimme your phone,” she commanded, a playful glint in her eyes. “and make sure it’s unlocked.”

Curious at what this strange woman would do next, Felix reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it as she commanded. He held out his phone and she took it from his hand, a small shocked gasp leaving her lips as her warm skin made contact with his icy skin.

 “May I ask what you’re doing?” he asked, cocking his head a little to the side as he watched her fingers tap away on the phone screen.

 “Going through your nudes,” she commented in a monotone voice, her full drunken concentration solely on his phone. 

 “Is that so?” he chuckled dryly, raising his eyebrows at the crassness. 

She looked up once, with a small smirk, and then with a final tap to the phone screen, handed his phone back to him. “Normally I don’t do this but I like you, and I just put my number in your phone.”

She said it so casually, but her heart steadily hammering away in the same, frantic pace it was when he leaned in earlier was a giveaway to Felix that Y/N was nervous.

She’s... giving me her number. Wow.

Amazed and elated, Felix’s grin could have cracked his face with how wide he was smiling. “I’ll be in touch for sure, Y/N,” he replied, enjoying his her name felt leaving his mouth.

With a playful smile and a blush growing steadily on her cheeks, Y/N backed away from Felix in the direction of her friend. “I’ll see you around then!” she called out over the music, biting her lip in an attempt to keep from smiling so hard. 

In that moment, Felix could care less about how much of a dumb ass he felt like earlier for his blunder of a pick up line, his still budding thirst or his friend’s smug comment of “Well played,” faintly reaching his ears. He’d endure the torment from Demetri’s teasing later. 

Right now, he was staring at a drunken angel that would be his entire future, and she was none the wiser tot he fact that with by some liquid courage she had stolen this centuries-old man’s heart in it’s entirety.

[liberty-barnes]

Just Breathe

Tom Holland x Female!Osterfield!Bisexual!Reader

Summary: Childbirth waits for no one, not even the Oscars.

Warnings: fluuuuuff, pregnant reader, mentions of childbirth, good press articles, BISEXUAL READER WOOOHOOO

Word Count: 1.5k words

Estimated Reading Time: 6 minutes

A/N: heeeeey look @peterspideyy​ @parkersbliss​ that crazy idea i ranted to you about like six months ago finally got done! i can’t believe i did it... this feels too good to be true, is the world gonna end or something?

Masterlist 

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Me neither."

"Please, just stay here."

You looked up to your brother and husband, frowning as you smoothed your hand over the soft black fabric of your gown.

"I am not missing the Oscars, Tom. I've still got two weeks until I'm due, it'll be fine."

You sat down on the bed and looked dejectedly at your shoes, then proceeded to throw puppy dog eyes your brother's way until Harrison had no choice but to kneel and help you put on your comfortable trainers. There's no way you're putting on your heels at 37 weeks of pregnancy.

"But what if Baby decides to come sooner? You could go into labour at any moment!"

You rolled your eyes and only raised your arms so they could help you out of bed.

"You guys are being over-dramatic. Nothing's gonna happen. We're just going to the Oscars, we'll have a good time, and hopefully, I'll leave with a little statue under my arm."

With that, you waddled out of your hotel room, ready to get into the limo.

---

"(Y/n)! It's so good to see you! You look radiant as always!"

You smiled at Kaitlyn, an interviewer you knew and trusted and rubbed your belly comfortingly. 

"Thank you, I feel like a whale, but Baby'll be here soon so it's worth it."

She smiled and asked you a bunch of questions about your movie and how you were feeling about being nominated for Best Actress.

"But anyway, how far along are you now?"

"I'm a little over 37 weeks, they should be coming soon. Tom and Haz were actually really apprehensive about me coming here since I'm so close to my due date."

She smiled and looked over at the two men, obviously on edge.

"Well, I wish you all the best and I sincerely hope you win."

You hugged her goodbye and posed for a few more pictures before being led inside by your husband.

---

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for..."

Everyone watched with bated breath as Brie Larson, last year's winner, got ready to announce who would take home the trophy.

"This year's winner, and taking home the Oscar for best actress in a leading role..."

Tom took your hand and you squeezed it tight, ready to applaud one of the other amazing actresses on their win.

"(Y/n) Holland, for her brilliant performance in��Two Sides of the Same Coin!"

You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest, run to that stage, kiss Brie, then promptly burst to flames out of sheer, unadulterated enthusiasm. Tom was hugging you and whispering how much you deserved it while your brother gently guided you to the podium. None of them would ever allow you to go up there on your own. Always one in front of you in case you trip forward and one behind you to catch you if you fall back.

Overprotective much?

As soon as you reached Brie, you hugged her tight (or as tight as you could with a human baby house separating you), taking the award while the two boys hugged her too.

"Holy Louis Tomlinson in a crop top."

The audience laughed, most of them already familiar with your strange One Direction inspired expressions.

"Wow, I didn't actually think I was gonna win this, everyone had such amazing performances. I-It's an honour, really. Two Sides of the Same Coin was a project very near and dear to my heart, so I'd like to thank the amazing Drew Barrymore, who wrote and directed the movie."

The room erupted in cheers and the woman smiled at you from her place on the front row.

"Bisexual representation is something we don't get very often, and when we do, it's always misjudged. So thank you for showing the world what bisexuality really is, and for giving me a chance to live out my dreams of kissing lots of people. This idiot tied me down too soon."

You pointed behind you at Tom, hearing his appalled squeak along with Harrison's guffaw of a laugh. 

In other news, the baby was starting to inconvenience you slightly. Baby had been going crazy since last night (not that you'd tell the boys) and the Braxton-Hicks were killing you, but it only got worse now.

"I'd also like to thank my amazing costars, Zendaya, Bella Thorne, and Owen Patrick Joyner, it was awesome to make out with you all..."

The crowd laughed while you felt something trickle down your legs.

Oh.

OH.

You'll never live this down, that's for sure.

"Uh, before I finish can one of you idiots call the car and get them to come to the exit please and thank you? Now as I was saying-"

"Wait, why?"

You turned to your brother and smiled innocently.

"Oh, my water just broke."

The crowd cheered.

Tom screamed.

Harrison fell to the floor, unconscious.

You sighed.

"New plan, can anyone try to wake my brother while my hus-" 

You looked at Tom, frantically doing small back and forths between you and his best friend, unsure of what to do. 

"-While someone else calls the car because both of them are apparently useless."

"We need to get you to the hospital!"

His terrified scream could be heard all through the room, even with no mic.

"What? No! I need to finish my acceptance speech, then go back to the hotel to shower and maybe take a little nap and then go to the hospital. My water just broke, Thomas, we have time, calm your tits."

You turned back fully to the mic, facing the hysteric faces of the crowd, very entertained by the exchange.

"Now as I was saying, I want to thank the amazing team that worked on this movie, you're all amazing and it was such a good experience. I'd also like to thank my family for always being there for me and supporting me and Haz in our acting careers. Thank you to my brother, even if he's unconscious right now, he'll just watch it on Youtube later, for literally forcing me to go to the audition. And lastly, I'd like to thank my wonderful husband, who hopefully hasn't passed out yet, for always supporting me and being my biggest rock through everything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff."

---

An Oscar in hand and another... down her legs?

(Y/n) Holland sure gave the Oscars something to be entertained by on this last Saturday. The wife of fellow actor Tom Holland looked radiant in her custom-made Valentino dress, looking ready for a night of fun.

(Y/n) was nominated for this year's Best Actress in a Leading Role award, alongside Meryl Streep, Margot Robbie, Cate Blanchett, and Tessa Thompson, but the Oscar went to her from her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin. But it was during her acceptance speech that things got... slippery.

At 37 weeks of pregnancy, the Holland baby was ready to come at any minute, but apparently, theatrics run in the family. The actress was in the middle of her speech when she felt her water break, pausing in her talking to request a car be called.

You'd think her husband, Tom, and brother Harrison Osterfield, overprotective as they are, would be fully prepared! Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for our entertainment, they were not. Harrison went unconscious after hearing the news, dropping to the floor and earning himself a minor concussion, much to his sister's amusement

[image1-harrison-ice-pack.png]

@ynholland: "Don't worry, when you go into labour, I'll be with you every step of the way." Said Harrison Osterfield, then proceeded to pass out, get a minor concussion, and miss the whole delivery.😂 Good job, little bro👍

And just when you thought she couldn't get any better, she finishes her acceptance speech with: "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff." We have no choice but to stan this iconic queen!

But for the news you've all been waiting for, Oscar Robert Holland (yes, the middle name is a homage to Robert Downey Jr. himself, we're not crying, you are!) was born just twelve hours later. Tom let know through a beautiful Instagram picture that he is in fact "perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already".

[image2-tom-and-oscar.png]

@tomholland2013: I present to you, my best creation to this date: Oscar Robert Holland. Thank you all for your prayers and kind messages, our boy is perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already❤️

But of course, Uncle Haz wouldn't stay behind.

[image3-haz-and-oscar.png]

@hazosterfield: Since I know you've all been worried sick and desperate to know how the baby is... I'm doing just fine, it's just a minor concussion :) Oh and my godson's great too.

And just to prove that the Osterfields are indeed the royal family of comedy, we leave with this wonderful picture posted to the happy mum's very own Instagram.

[image4-yn-and-oscars.png]

@ynholland: Guess I was so good they gave two Oscars instead of one ;)

-Written by Kaitlyn Storm

so anyway, Two Sides of the Same Coin is a movie idea i got a while ago and should maybe try to write one of these days but oh well or something. anyway, i’m not gonna rant about it here cause it’d be too long but i hope you enjoyed this and don’t forget to like/comment/reblog if you feel like it!

-Love, Miah

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[aminiatureworld]

Time and Chance

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,028

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note: I may or may not have decided to go full sappy this week, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with my overbearing angst. Also I thought it was cute. Originally I wasn’t sure if I wanted the reader to be the one doing the confessing or whether it should be the character. I decided upon the reader on a whim essentially, with the idea that I could do the character later. We’ll see! The title today is reference to one of my favorite novels, written by Sharon Kay Penman. If anyone likes historical fiction I’d highly recommend it.

Today’s characters are Albedo, Childe, and Diluc. Tomorrow will be Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli. And maybe Keqing.

Like I said in my past post Happy Valentine’s Day! Although this time it’s Valentine’s Day proper.

Albedo

In your defense, who wouldn’t fall in love with Albedo?

The mysterious alchemist of Monstadt; sharp as a tack, insatiably curious, and blessed with an ethereal sort of beauty on top of it. Who wouldn’t fall in love with such a person?

And that was the problem. You’d sort of taken it for granted that everyone loved Albedo, and in that assumption you’d found a particularly distasteful discovery. That if everyone loved Albedo then you were hardly going to be the only one asking after his time. And, following that line of thought, you figured it’d be incredibly rude – not to mention supremely irritating for Albedo – for you to confess your feelings.

And it wasn’t as if you two were the closest in the world. Although you wouldn’t say you were total strangers either. You instead drifted in that odd in between; more than acquaintances, not quite friends. Or at least that’s how you interpreted it. Albedo didn’t seem to be the person with inclinations towards friendship in general, a not altogether untrue or wild assumption, so you remained content where you were, happy with the conversations you had, with the times he’d trust you with a piece of equipment or would explain to you in detail what he was working on. I mean, surely that was enough?

Absolutely not. Even in your state of perpetual irritation and fretting over your feelings, you knew that simply ignoring them was a ridiculous solution. When did that ever go well? Miscommunication was the relationship killer, no matter what type, and what could be more of a misunderstanding than this? You didn’t even know what he thought of you for Seven’s sake!

So you’d resolved yourself to telling him. Even if he’d be irritated surely he’d appreciate your honesty. And even if he didn’t you needed to tell him, for yourself if not for him.

It was with this in mind that you approached him one afternoon as he was working outside.

“Um, Albedo?” Your voice had taken on a slightly weak tone, as if you didn’t have enough air all of a sudden. It sounded weird, and you kind of wished you didn’t have to hear it. But that was par for the course when dealing something like this, although it didn’t make it any easier.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you there.” Albedo turned around to look at you. You noticed that he’d swapped his regular tools for a paint set and an easel. Glancing at the painting you were struck by how he’d somehow managed to depict Cider Lake so accurately with so few brushstrokes. Never did you think about how the slight ripples that appeared in it could look a bit like circles. It was altogether impressive, and for a moment you forgot what you were doing, or perhaps you’d pushed it out of your mind.

“Was there something you wanted to ask?” Albedo’s voice pulled you out of your artistic musings. Evidently you weren’t going to be able to get out of it now. Come hell or high water, you were going to tell him.

“Well, so… you see, I… I really love you and your work!” The words came tumbling out, dropping like stones in the suddenly charged atmosphere. Almost immediately your nerves were replaced with a distinct sinking sense. “Uhm, rather. I mean –” you tried to begin again, but your voice had suddenly turned quite small, and you found yourself unable to continue.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Albedo’s voice was calm but not unkind, for a moment you felt your face grow warm. Was this actually going to happen? It’d be impressive considering how you’d botched it. “I’m so glad to hear there’s someone else interested in my work. I find that unfortunately a great many people take the world around them for granted. That you do not is commendable.”

You found you weren’t really sure what to say; admittedly the only thing going through your mind at the time was something along the lines of Holy shit. Holy shit I fucking blew it.

Okay, so maybe that was an absolute train wreck. Still, you’d gotten that far, and at this point you felt like it’d be harder to stop and deal with the memory of your botched pseudo-confession than to try again. So you steeled your courage and after a week or so you found yourself ready.

This time you tried for as he arrived at work. Originally you were going to wait for afterwards, but you found the anticipation was tearing you apart, and so decided for before. The anticipation, combined with your slight exhaustion, was nearly unbearable; and a not so small part of you kept telling yourself that this was a terrible idea, but you were too far gone.

“Fancy meeting you here at this time.” There was certainly surprise in Albedo’s voice, but he was smiling, and didn’t seem to mind at all when you stammered out that you wanted to ask him about something. He simply nodded, before unlocking his lab and gesturing for you to go in first.

You loved Albedo’s lab. Various pieces of equipment gleamed in the early morning light, everything properly labeled and put away; a stark contrast to the clutter of Albedo’s desk, filled with papers and the odd sample. The whole room was surprisingly nice in general, floors made of wood, painted over with a type of resin as to keep it from being properly damaged, multiple windows keeping the space surprisingly airy, and the smell of various herbs filling the air, though not so much as to be overpowering. You’d once mentioned to Albedo that the space seemed much to homey to be a proper lab. He’d merely laughed, replying that all homes should be comfortable, no matter how out of the ordinary.

Now you used said comfort and familiarity to ground yourself. This time you’d do it. This time for sure.

“So, um about my question?”

“Yes?” Albedo replied, dropping a few things on his desk. You took a breath, steadying yourself before pushing on ahead.

“Well… you know when I told you I liked you and your work?”

“Of course. I was very happy to hear it.” Albedo’s tone remained opaque, you had no idea how your words were registering.

“Well, you see, I wasn’t being completely clear. What I meant was more… well… well I like you, more than your work.” Seeing the look of confusion on his face you sped up slightly. “Not that I don’t like your work of course! It’s just, it’s just…” you were foundering again, feeling stupidly embarrassed. Becoming more and more frustrated with yourself you shook your head. “What I mean is I like you. Personally. And I like you a lot, more than just as acquaintances or as maybe friends. And I know that this is kind of out of the blue and kind of intrusive, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who like you. But I just wanted to tell you because, well I don’t know, just because.”

You took a deep breath, feeling as if you’d said altogether too many words. Glancing towards Albedo you saw a look of slight shock on his face. A feeling of dread was creeping up on you. Maybe it would’ve been better to say nothing.

“Well, I’m certainly flattered,” Albedo began, all your hopes beginning to sink. Urging yourself not to look away your nevertheless started picking at your fingernails, praying that at least the rejection would be over soon. “though I’m not really sure what you see in me. I’m hardly the ideal sort of person. And there certainly don’t seem to be many people who like me.” Albedo paused then; staring at him you found yourself in slight disbelief, sure that the sudden blush painting his cheeks was a figment of your imagination. “That being said, I cannot say that I don’t reciprocate your feelings. In truth I feel quite foolish now, only for assuming you were uninterested and refusing to try my hand at my own confession.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean for the tone of your voice to come out as so utterly disbelieving, but you couldn’t help yourself. Slightly light-headed you took a step forward, closing the space between you and the suddenly bashful alchemist in front of you. “You like me too?”

“Yes.” Albedo nodded slightly. “And, well, since you like me as well, might we…”

“Might we?”

“Might you do me the honor of becoming my partner?”

You found yourself giggling hysterically, half from the sudden release of nerves half from how ludicrous the situation had turned out to be. Seeing Albedo, looking for the first time uncertain and nervous, you stopped. Your face burst into a smile and you nodded.

“This is quite dramatic. But of course, of course I will.”

“I’m glad. But, might I say something?”

“Yes?”

“I wish you’d told me after work. If only because I’ll never be able to concentrate now.”

 Childe

If you had to describe your crush on Childe in one word it would be: idiotic. If you had to describe it in a sentence it’d be; incredibly irritating but also impossible to ignore.

You liked Childe, you liked him a lot. And you couldn’t blame yourself. Childe was the ideal sort of partner; charismatic, athletic, with eyes that could make your heart skip a beat and hair that was asking for you to run your hands through it. Childe was attentive too, full of words that would make anyone swoon a bit, and always ready to listen, agreeing with you on every point and reacting just as you wished.

But that was the problem. Childe was a façade, his personality had been honed to be as sharp and as deadly as a knife. Of course he was understanding and charismatic and a perfect person to hold a conversation with, what else could one expect of a member of the Fatui?

At first you’d desperately tried to ignore your feelings, as if they were somehow embarrassing. You felt vaguely guilty for carrying a flame for Childe, as if you’d managed to fall into a trap you’d seen a ways away. It was an unpleasant feeling to be sure, and you tried to bury it as much as possible, sure it’d go away.

But it didn’t go away, instead your feelings somehow seemed to become more and more stubborn, as if insisting on leading you down the path that many fools who interacted with the Fatui had fallen down before. Childe was at the forefront of your mind.

You noticed when he passed by you, shooting you a blinding smile which always turned into a self-confident sort of smirk, no doubt a result of your inevitable blush. You noticed the way he always seemed to ask after your interests, but never failed to avoid more personal topics that might make you uncomfortable. You noticed how he laughed at your odd half-jokes and the way that his hand brushed your once, causing you to withdraw your own as if burned, stammering out a “nothing” when he asked what was wrong.

But still you refused to tell him. Surely that was what he wanted, another person who could be called upon to give information to the Fatui, or perhaps assist in their dirty work. That wouldn’t be you, that would never be you.

It was snowing on your way home, blocking out the normal sounds and casting the world in an eerie sort of beauty. You wished that it wasn’t so late, cursing yourself for once more forgetting how early the sun set. It didn’t help that it was blindingly cold, and that you were dressed for weather that was at least ten degrees warmer. Hurrying along you were thinking about the meal that you were going to have, unaware of the slick patch of ice lying in front of you.

“Whoah, be careful!” You were yanked out of your thoughts with alarm. Glancing around you quickened your pace, shoes slipping immediately on the ice. However instead of a hard fall on the street you found a pair of arms wrapped under yours. Glancing up you found your face only centimeters away from Childe’s.

“Sorry for causing that.” Childe’s voice was clear as a bell, marking the contrast between the two of you in your mind. Lifting you up he chuckled slightly. “I should’ve realized that a random voice yelling at you would be alarming. Nothing bruised I hope?”

“N-no.” You managed, face burning. You’d never gotten this close to Childe before, not really, and the experience was going straight to your head, as if you’d suddenly gotten very, very drunk. Shaking your head you shifted your glanced towards the ground. “Thank you.” You managed, although your voice was soft enough to be inaudible. You were still trying to process what was happening. One question kept replaying itself in your mind, why had he called out, why had he noticed you?

“I’m glad!” Childe’s voice was a beautiful thing, and you found you couldn’t really think when listening to it. “I was a bit worried I wasn’t in time.”

“Yeah…” you replied. Suddenly the situation dawned on you completely, and you found yourself looking at him with no little suspicion. “Why do you pay so much attention to me?” You blurted out.

“What do you mean?” The expression on Childe’s face was one of perfect confusion, but you could tell that he’d been somehow caught. The tone of his voice was suddenly muddied, as if you were hearing his uncertainty for the first time. This gave you courage to press forward.

“I mean it. Why, why do I always see you? I mean, why do you even pay attention to me? I’m not the kind of person to forget who you are, the fact that you’re a member of the Fatui. I won’t be roped into your schemes, no matter how much I like you.” Shit. That last part was supposed to be only in your head. For a moment you weren’t sure if you hadn’t actually hit your head somehow.

Childe looked frozen, his expression blank, filled with disbelief as well as… bashfulness? If that’s what it was it certainly didn’t fit the normal vision of Childe, still you found yourself somehow compelled by it. This was a part of the real Childe.

“I… didn’t realize you’d notice. Now I feel found out!” He chuckled again, but this time it was distinctly nervous, and he turned to the side slightly. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes snapped towards yours. “Wait, rewind. You like me?”

“…Yeah.” I mean what were you supposed to say?

“I can’t believe this.” The widest grin spread across Childe’s face, and he started bouncing on his toes slightly, it was very cute you could give him that.

“You’re ignoring the rest of my words. Personal feelings or not I still hate the Fatui, and I still don’t know why you’d target me anyways.”

“It’s cause I like you, can’t you tell?” Childe’s words rammed into you, utterly unexpected; seeing you shake your head he once more closed the space between you two. “No, I mean it. I like you. I just can’t believe that you like me back.” He let out another huff of laughter. “I can’t believe I’m this lucky, I’ve never been this lucky. Well, I’m sorry that I came off like I was some Fatui creep, I promise my occupation doesn’t include systematic wooing of civilians.”

“How can I trust you?” You were trying to stand your ground, but in reality you’d already fallen. The situation was too much, and what little resistance you’d managed to hold on in the past weeks was tearing to shreds before your own eyes.

“Because I wouldn’t lie about this.” Childe was suddenly still, his expression deadly serious. “I promise I wouldn’t lie about something like this. The fact is I like you, I like you a lot. I know my job is… unconventional to say the least; I also know that it’s entirely fair if you don’t want to associate with me because of it. But at least trust in my feelings being real, okay?”

What could you do? You nodded, a short “I trust you” falling from your lips. The feeling of happiness was surprisingly sedate, mixed with nerves, yet also somehow filled with contentment. It felt so good, it felt so good just to let go and accept what had happened. You liked Childe, you liked him so much, and he like you too. What more was there to say?

“May I ask you something?” Childe asked, voice slightly husky. Your faces were once more barely apart, and you found that you could stay like this for ages and ages.

“Yes?”

“May I hold your hand?”

You let out a laugh, smiling brightly as you slid your hand into his.

 Diluc

You weren’t even sure how this one happened.

It wasn’t that Diluc wasn’t the perfect kind of guy, I mean if he wasn’t you probably wouldn’t be falling madly into one sided love with him. It was just that you two didn’t actually have much of a chance to interact with one another, what with him being the manager and part time bartender of a surprisingly vast winery, and with you being an adventurer and someone not likely to get plastered any time soon.

But the few times that you had interacted with him, usually something to do with guarding the alcohol he was exporting, had been enough to cement an intense infatuation in your mind. There was just something about him; whether it was his voice, his polite yet intense form of speech; his mannerisms, always perfectly on time with what he needed, something which helped you and the Guild immensely; or his general charm, okay look he had great hair; you’d simply gone mad for him.

And mad indeed you were. Though you weren’t about to become a stalker – besides being incredibly creepy on principle since when did that land a person in anything but jail – you’d taken to trying to find out a least a little more about him. Because if you were going to be infatuated with someone it should at least be for more than his organizational skills and the fact his hair would look great in a high ponytail.

And what you’d found out only built upon your crush. The fact that he found the Knights of Favonius lacking, though perhaps a bit unconventional, was ultimately reasonable, or at least justifiable. You liked also that he refrained from drinking, and not just because the idea of ending the night sick in the bathroom was something that haunted you a bit. The more you learned the more you wished that you were in a situation where your feelings could be reciprocated, or at least where you could become friends of some degree. Really you just wanted him to notice your existence, sure he could pick you out in the endless sea of adventurers.

So you planned on introducing yourself at some point, at least as his almost designated wine protector. The only problem was when. Diluc seemed to be busier and busier these days, and when he was around he seemed muted, as if he was carrying something. You couldn’t bring yourself to add to his burden your own baggage. So you said nothing, and as your crush grew so did your dejection.

It was a lovely summer evening and, seeing as your apartment had becoming stifling in the daytime, you’d taken a walk, snaking through the streets of Monstadt before exiting via the back gate, glad to see there were no guards around. Walking down towards the banks of the lake you slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet into the water. Letting out a sigh you sat down and tilted your head back, enjoying the slightly breeze on your face, trying to take your mind off of the past months of agony. The world faded into background noise, and you found yourself in a state of pseudo peace, glad to have it, if only for a moment.

“Watch out!” A familiar voice broke through your reverie. Turning your head towards the source of your disruption you saw a masked figure as well as a cryo abyss mage. The mage, having correctly decided you were going to be easier to deal with than the actively armed person, suddenly appeared right in front of you. Acting on instinct you pushed your hand in front of you, letting electricity bloom from your fingertips.

As the abyss mage lay stunned your felt an arm wrap around your waist, dragging you a ways away. “Wait here.” The person carrying you said, before running back to fight. Finally getting a good look at your savior it was all you could do not to gasp. Despite being the cold hard truth you still found it hard to believe, and for a second you wondered if you hadn’t passed out somewhere and were having a particularly fantastic dream.

Finally the fighting was over, lifting yourself up you jogged over to the man who could only be the Darknight Hero.

“Master Diluc?” The words flew out of your mouth.

“Just Diluc please.” Diluc shook his head. “Forgive me for being a bit rough. Cryo abyss mages and electro users rarely work well together.”

“It’s perfectly fine!” You replied eagerly. “Really, thank you!”

Diluc offered a smile in reply, one that immediately made your heart seize up. Suddenly you remembered who the person in front of you was. Seized at first with something akin to embarrassment you also came to a sudden realization. This might be the only chance.

“Diluc?”

“Yes?”

“Well, can I say something?”

“Of course you may.” Diluc relaxed his stance, leaning slightly forward. Your face was burning, you really weren’t expecting something like this to happen, but it was now or never.

“I realize this will be quite sudden, but I… I like you.” You felt the urge to add on something, some explanation or apology, but unfortunately, or perhaps thankfully, you found you couldn’t say anything more. Running your fingers through your hair you lowered your head slightly, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

“Can I say something?” Diluc’s voice was gentle, and you couldn’t help but look up at him. Though you wouldn’t say his stance had changed very much, he somehow seemed more relaxed, something you weren’t expecting.

“Of course! I realize what I said must really be a shock, I’m really sorry.” You let out a pathetic sort of laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. I realize what I’m about to say must be equally as shocking. But, the fact of the matter is I like you as well.”

“I didn’t realize you knew I existed!” You replied, still not ready to drop your defense mechanisms. Diluc stared at you, a perplexed expression on his face.

“I’m quite surprised by that, I thought that my request for you to be the guild member in charge of the Winery would’ve been an indicator. Forgive me, I didn’t realize that you were unaware.”

“I thought that was a decision by the Guild to make things easier.” You admitted. “Although I guess I just didn’t want to admit that you might be aware of my existence.”

“Why?”

“Because that would’ve been scary! I mean, what if you didn’t like me, not in that way, just… in general.”

“Well I like you a lot.” Diluc’s voice was soft and warm.

“I like you two.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

As he escorted you back to your home the two of you spoke about a myriad of things, some important and some quite mundane. You found that having your feeling reciprocated had truly opened up something in you. Suddenly everything seemed so much realer, made manifest by Diluc’s presence. You couldn’t believe it really. What had failed with months of planning had succeeded in a matter of moments.

And all because of an unsuspecting abyss mage.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

[ukai-simp-services]

just tonight

oikawa tōru x fem!reader warnings: smoking weed, cursing, degrading/humiliating, nsfw and smut ofc, corruption kink, slight biblical references, y/n is kinda bitchy, voyeurism, temp/heat play, high during intercourse, choking, dumbdification. a/n: i literally don’t even like smoking or care for it at all BUT THIS FUCKING IDEA CAME TO MY HEAD AND OOOHH BOY. so here’s an alternate universe oikawa being a mf bad boy stoner with piercings and tattoos, and lowkey an asshole.

  fake friends, fake fucking friends, you thought to yourself. you were standing outside of the loud - practically vibrating - club. the one that your friends invited you to; yet here you were, alone while they were driving away with sloppy looking men that just wanted to hook up with them. 

  bass-boosted music rang through your ears, while the ground you walked on literally shook from the bouncing club. you felt a wave of goosebumps rise on your skin, the dress you were wearing was a little too short and it didn't help that the sleeves were spaghetti straps. it was only the beginning of summer, a late june night with a chilling breeze. not to mention, you were two fucking hours away from home, you had no car and a dead phone. the best you could hope for was that someone was kind enough to call a cab for you, or an uber - but there was no one around, except for the people inside the club that you could no longer enter.

  “someone looks lost~” a low, yet teasing voice came from behind you.

  you whipped your head around; taken aback by the sudden voice, but felt slightly relieved when you were greeted by the presence of a young man.

  “yeah, i guess you could say that...” your voice was timid as you trailed off, still nervous of this unknown man gracing your presence. 

  “’s not safe for a pretty girl like you to be walking around this area with that lost look on your face, you could attract some bad news.” he stepped closer and closer to you, almost hesitantly. 

  “like you?” you cocked an eyebrow back at him, gesturing to the array of large, black tattoos littering his arms.

  he clicked his tongue at you, ”should someone like you really be judging others by their looks?” the stranger got uncomfortably closer and you could see that his eyes resembled a warm brown color and his fluffy hair matched them. his face certainly didn't match the rest of his appearance. 

  “someone like me? i look exactly like what i am, a girl who's stranded with no phone or car and could use a nice person to call her a cab home. get lost, creep.” you practically spat back. 

  you spun on your heel and began walking away, you half expected him to chase after you and snatch you into the darkness of an ally, and half expected him to just give up and walk away. your speed-walking was put to a halt when he did neither of those things, when he started laughing hysterically. you spun around quickly out of curiosity to see him doubled over, crouched down on the ground trying to get a grip on himself. 

  “what's so funny?” you were both pissed and skeeved out, what the hell was this asshole creepy laughing at you for?

  he began wiping the tears from his eyes dramatically, “nothing, sorry. it’s just that girls like you are so stereotypical. always looking down on men like me, always thinking you're better than everyone else. it’s just kinda funny instead of insulting.” 

  you were at a loss for words, did you really come off that bitchy? and didn't you have a right to? he was the one lurking in the shadows.

  “i'd call you a cab, but i left my phone at home. i could go get it and come back?”

  somehow, you weren't convinced he’d let you go that easy. something about his tone when he first approached you, was just too teasing and insinuating. 

  “no thanks, i can find someone else to call one for me.” you nervously tugged at the chain on your purse, you knew that was a damn lie. the streets were empty, and this man was your only hope.

  he smirked, a knowing look planted on his face. he wouldn't push, but he knew you'd have to resort to his help in the end. 

  “suit your self.” he treaded away slowly, eagerly expecting your plea to come. 

  you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, he wasn't going to keep pushing you? was he not just saying how unsafe the streets were for a young girl like you?

  “actually- wait.” you stammered hesitantly, embarrassed that you needed his attention again. 

  he turned around swiftly, a small smirk gracing his lips - smugly trying to hold back a grin. 

�� “i'm sorry, could you please call me a taxi?” you failed to notice his sly expression.

  “sure thing, but will you be safe here on your own while i get my phone?” he feigned the worry in his voice and the twinkle in his eyes. 

  you bit your lip, hesitant to pick your next words.

  “how long would you be?”

  “should be a 10 minute walk there, another 10 minutes back.”

  “so, 20 minutes?”

  “yes, around 20.” the mysterious man toyed with something between his long, slender fingers, barely giving you a glance. 

  “oh...” you looked around awkwardly, you thought 20 minutes might be too long. who knows what kind of person would approach you, plus it felt like the breeze against your so very exposed legs was getting colder by the minute.

  he looked up to catch your nervous gaze.

  “of course, you could join me on the walk, wait outside my house when we get there.” he pursed his lips, making it look like he had just thought up the idea with no further intentions. 

  no, no fucking way you would go with him.

  but in his gaze, you caught something. a glint in his eyes; trust, comfort. 

  your better judgement faltered as you lost yourself in the charm he held in his eyes, the start to many more risks you would take that night. 

  despite his eccentric look; piercings littering his ears, leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, obscene tattoos and all black attire - he had a deep warmth in his eyes. and you may have felt so stupid in the moment, but you found yourself trusting that warmth.

  “okay, can't be worse than staying here alone right?”

  he chuckled, “right.”

  but were you actually wrong?

  the walk to his apartment was quiet, mostly because you were nervous he was gonna snap and pull a knife out and murder you in an ally.

  “you know, you don't have to walk 10 feet away from me, right?” the guy looked over his shoulder and squinted his eyes at you. 

  you bit your lip, deciding to stride a little closer to him - making a more comfortable distance.

  “i don't even know your name, mystery man.” 

  he chuckled, stepping to the side a little to give you more room to walk.

  “neither do i, mystery woman.”

  “wouldn't you like to know, i asked first anyway.”

  you were now walking by his side, a little more confident than you were before. your fingers held themselves behind your back, purse still hooked over your shoulder.

  “it’s oikawa, tōru oikawa.” his eyes flickered up to yours, hopeful for you to open up and tell him your name too.

  “told me your full name huh, i guess i should too.” you rocked on your heels nervously. you were still uneasy about telling him your full name for some reason, but when you looked into his orbs of warm chocolate brown, you felt like you could trust this man with your life.

  “l/n y/n.”

  he smirked, looking up ahead at the road again, “pretty name, definitely suits a pretty girl.”

  you rolled your eyes at his sudden flattery, he seemed to do a lot of that - you noticed.

  the two of you continued walking for a few more minutes, casual conversation bouncing off each other. you noticed he began to slow down his faster walking pace when you both reached a tall apartment building.

  “we’re home.” he winked at you.

  “oh shut it, don’t take too long please. it’s so cold...” you hopped from foot to foot and rubbed your exposed biceps with your hands.

  oikawa thought for a moment - running his tongue over his teeth while contemplating how to make what he was about to say not sound creepy.

  “why don’t you come in with me? it’d only take a second and i don’t trust the people around this area to leave you alone out here.”

  you paused for a moment, you were usually very street smart and would know exactly how to avoid this situation. if he were any other guy, you’d just say ‘no thanks, i can handle myself’ and refuse his offer - but his eyes, why were you so allured by his eyes? what was it about him that you trusted? 

  “it’s okay if you’re uncomfortable, i’ll be quick and you can wait out here-“

  “no, wait. i'll come, just...don’t pull anything weird, kay?” you were readjusting your purse on your shoulder as you hesitantly stepped closer to the apartment door.

  “of course, i’d never.” there was a glint of mischief in his eye after the words left his lips, but you didn’t notice it.

  after oikawa let you into his apartment, you were greeted by the strongest smell of weed in your life - and a lot of loud talking and laughter. you were just about ready to turn on your heel and leave.

  “sorry ‘bout that, my friends are really loud.” oikawa apologized and locked the door behind you.

  you waved him off, dismissing his apology. you didn’t care about his loud friends, you were just bothered by the disgusting scent of marijuana that hit your nostrils. you wouldn’t tell him that though, at least not yet.

  you followed oikawa into the living room; also known as the source of where the horrid smell was coming from. the room was dimly lit and felt bigger than it looked. there was an L-shaped brown couch in the center of the room being occupied by 3 men - seemingly the same age as oikawa and yourself.

  “hey guys, this is y/n. she got lost and needs me to call her a ride home. do you guys know where my phone is?” oikawa spoke to the men in front of you, they all seemed to immediately drop their conversation the second oikawa walked in.

  “nah man, i dunno.” a boy with short light brown hair spoke up while twiddling a blunt between his fingers.

  oikawa sighed and ran a hand through his hair, quickly scanning the room for his phone before looking back at you.

  “wait here for a sec while i go look in my room, kay?” he raised an eyebrow at you before hearing your response.

  you would’ve snorted at the tall man with tattoos and ripped jeans using the term “kay”, if it weren’t for the intimating group of men staring you down at the moment.

  “sure.” you forced a nod, signaling oikawa to exit the room.

  you looked around the room awkwardly, hands clasped together against your thighs. you weren’t sure how long he would take, and you certainly weren’t up for small talk with these ‘troublesome’ looking guys.

  “take a seat, we don’t bite.” the man with messy black hair and thick eyebrows chuckled at you.

  yeah right, “that’s ok, i-“

  “i insist.” his voice was deep and his eyes were burning holes into your own. you weren’t sure how someone so high could come off so serious.

  you swallowed down your nerves and took a seat on the far right of all the boys on the couch, plopping down next to one of the quieter men; he had spiky black hair and wore a denim jacket. 

  “so, ‘kawa’s picking up strangers off the street n bringing 'em into our apartment now, eh?” the man next to you spoke up, plucking the blunt from his friends fingers and placing it between his own lips. 

  the light-haired man laughed, following it with a cough from previously inhaling the smoke, “wouldn’t be much of a surprise, knowing him.”

  you wrinkled your nose at their laughter. you tried to be polite, you really did, but you simply didn't belong here; didn't belong in a room with these ‘delinquents’.

  “i am not, ‘from the streets’, for your information. i don't even live around here, i was just clubbing with my friends, but they-” 

  “yeah yeah, we get it. you're a typical stuck-up girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” the light-haired boy (it would really help if they told you their names) mocked you in a high-pitched voice.

  “i'm not stuck up, i just-” he kept cutting you off.

  “oh please, the second you walked in here, you were sticking up your nose at us, looking us up and down with a disapproving glare. you're just that kind of girl, face it.” 

  the messy-haired man chuckled lowly at his friend’s joke and added, “just oikawa’s type!”

  “that's enough, you two.” the quieter man next to you spoke up for a second time, giving the other two men a threatening glare. 

  you swallowed awkwardly as the room became quiet, only the soft sounds of sucking in smoke from the blunt being passed around were heard. 

  you were busy absentmindedly picking at the polish on your nails, a nervous habit, when a small orange glow next to your head caught your eye. 

  “you wanna hit?” the guy next to you was holding the blunt out for you to grab, the strong smell getting a little too close to your nostrils. 

  you scrunched your nose at his offer, shaking your head to further decline.

  “no thanks, i don't really do that stuff.”

  the spikey-haired male nodded - accepting your decision and taking an extra hit himself, when you heard a chuckle come from behind him.

  “god, she really is a prude.” the voice of the impudent light-haired man spoke again.

  you were just about ready to bite back a reply, but the man sat in-between the two men with the deeper voice beat you to it. 

  “makki, bet you 10 bucks she was only at that club for a half-hour before she was beggin’ her friends to go. that's probably why they ditched her stuck-up ass.” the boys cackled in unison at their stupid jokes. if they weren't pissing you off so much, you might even had found their cackles funny. 

  “makki, mattsun, shut your mouths.” the man next to you rose his voice slightly. you were thankful that he was sticking up for you, but there was no way you'd let it go without defending yourself.

  “ha, sorry that i actually have my life together and don't need a mind-altering drug to live my every day life. you guys are the pathetic ones, not me.” you laughed bitterly at them. what you were saying was only half true; you didn't have your life together and you couldn't care less if people that weren't you did mind-altering drugs, but you did think they were pathetic. 

  3 pairs of eyes widened in your direction in response your bitchy remark, they knew they had it coming - yet they were still surprised to hear it. 

  “please, humble yourself sweetheart. you aren't any better than us for not doing drugs.” the man with dark hair, presumably mattsun, laughed coldly at you whilst leaning further back into the cushion of the couch. 

  “yeah, you're only missing out.” the man called makki chimed in.

  “missing out? oh please, on what? a fried brain? smelly breath? black lungs? yeah, i think I'm doing just fine.” you leaned back against the couch, content with the newfound confidence you held. you weren't normally this snappy with people you first met, so this was quite a shift in your usual dynamic. 

  this time, all three boys laughed at you, this included the quieter man who's name you still did not know. 

  “oh darling, you're cracking me up. just say that you're a prude and go, you're honestly embarrassing yourself.” makki pushed your argument further. 

  “yeah, you shouldn't knock something before you try it. just because you're a virgin doesn't mean you have to act-” 

  “what makes you think that im a virgin? what does weed have to do with my sex life, like at all?” your voice was getting defensively higher and you were now leaning over the man in between you and makki and mattsun to get your point across. 

  “you're not a virgin because you don't smoke weed, but you don't smoke weed because you're a virgin.” makki put it bluntly, staring straight at you with a completely blank face. the two boys next to him chuckled at his stupidity. you were completely dumbfounded. 

  “you're joking right? this has to be a joke. you can't seriously think that i’m some prude who's never had sex before just because i've never smoked weed before - and never will.” you were crossing your right leg over your left now, lifting your posture significantly to get a better look at the men.

  “actually, sweetheart. that's exactly what we think.” mattsun glanced over at you, half-lidded eyes burning into your own. 

  you felt a shudder run through your body at the nickname, trying your hardest to push down the heat rising to your cheeks and somehow maintain your snarky persona. 

  “i-”

  “found my phone- what is going on here?” oikawa entering the living room interrupted your retaliation, suddenly becoming confused with the obvious tense atmosphere in the room. 

  “tch, your little prude of a friend over here just called us pathetic for smoking weed.” makki rolled his eyes before placing the blunt between his lips, it was now a quarter of the size it was before when you first entered the home. 

  “only because your asshole friends were calling me a prude and a virgin for not smoking.” you snapped back immediately, turning your body to face oikawa to make your point. 

  “asshole friends? that isn't very nice now is it, sweetheart?” mattsun teased you again, using the same nickname that you were shamefully flustered by before. 

  you opened your mouth to argue back, but oikawa interrupted your spiteful words with a long laugh.

  “i knew you were a stereotypical stuck-up girl the second i met you, didn't i y/n? this comes off as no surprise to me.” oikawa’s arms were now crossed and he was eyeing you down from his standing position above you.

  “oooh, her name is y/n. just sounds like a prude’s name.” makki proceeded to torment you. 

  “come on asswipes, be gentlemen.” the quieter man next to you spoke up again for the first time in quite a few minutes. 

  “sorry, iwa-chan, but i’m gonna have to side with makki and mattsun this time. if y/n wants to act like a little prudent brat, then she’ll just have to be treated like one.” oikawa stepped closer to your spot on the couch, a teasing lilt to his voice.

  you were flustered by how fast oikawa’s personality had shifted, he had alluded you to think he was a charming, trustworthy man not even 20 minutes ago. where was that energy now?

  “such a stuck-up brat, probably gonna live to be a perfect little virgin mary, yeah? never gonna compromise her health, never gonna sleep with a man, and never gonna commit a sin, isn't that right?” oikawa now stood directly in front of you, legs brushing against yours with your head at eye level with his crotch. 

  you hesitated for a moment, contemplating if your pride was really worth doing this. 

  of course it was.

  “pass me the fucking blunt.” your head whipped towards makki, holding your hand out towards him, praying to god that he couldn't see how much you were shaking.

  makki widened his reddened eyes at you while trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

  “are you deaf? let me take a fucking hit.” your eyes were dead and cold, boring into his surprised ones.

  “alright... now that's what i like to see.” makki’s lips curled up into a smirk as he passed you the medium-sized, glowing blunt. 

  everybody’s eyes were on you as your held the object between your thumb and your pointer finger, mimicking the movements you've seen others do so many times before.

  “you sure you can handle the smoke, darling?” oikawa’s voice was anything but caring and sweet, it held a mocking tone laced with faux sympathy. 

  no, you were very sure that you couldn't, but you were too stubborn to go back now. your pride was on the line and you would be damned if you didn't prove yourself to these four men.

  you looked up at oikawa through your thick lashes, placing the blunt between your lips at the slowest, most seductive speed. 

  “i'm a big girl. i think i'll be alright, kay?

  oikawa let a low chuckle out, still staring down at you from his tall position above you with his head slightly tilted to the side. 

  “we’ll see about that.” his voice came out deeper and smoother than it had before.

  you wanted so badly to prove to these assholes that you weren't as prudent as they made you out to be. sure, you were a little pretentious and always stuck your nose up in disapproval when your friends did similar actions that these boys did, but secretly, you always wished you could let yourself loose like everyone else. you were raised to be a perfect, well-behaved girl, so you've always kind of stuck by that title for as long as you knew. just going to clubs, like you did tonight, was totally out of your comfort zone. if tonight was going to be the one night where you let yourself loose, then there was no reason that you couldn't do this, right?

  you seemed to underestimate how many hits it would take for a lightweight like you to get even the slightest bit high, all you wanted was a little buzz - just to get these dickheads off your back. 

  it was only after coughing up an entire lung after your two first hits, that you realized that this might've not been such a good idea.

  you set down the glass of water that iwaizumi - the only nice guy out of the bunch - got you from the tap. you were four hits in and absolutely miserable. your entire chest felt on fire and to make matters worse, you didn't even feel high yet - not like you would know what that felt like, anyway. 

  “nuh-uh, that's enough for you.” oikawa quickly snatched the blunt from your fingers before you could react.

  you rolled your eyes, not wanting to back down from what felt like a competition. 

  “pft, look who's the pussy now.” you reached to grab for the small piece of blunt left in oikawa’s hand, but your slow reaction rate caused you to miss horribly. 

  “i’m not a pussy, i just know what'll happen to a light-weight like you. if you over-do it you're bound to get sick, and the last thing i need is some random girl who pushed her limits to lose her shit in front of me.” oikawa’s words were harsh, but a playful smirk was planted on his lips. 

  you weren't having it.

  he was right, you had pushed your limits - and oikawa didn't know the half of how stubborn you were. you weren't about to let the guy that was just making fun of you for being so prude, to change his mind and withhold you from proving yourself. 

  “thanks for the advice, but i promise you i can handle myself.” you spat back at the man hovering over you, proceeding to snatch the blunt back from his hand. 

  oikawa chuckled and shook his head at you, deciding to take a seat on the coffee table in front of you.

  “suit yourself.”

  you continued the assault on your lungs; taking long hits of the remainder of the blunt, coughing hysterically, drowning yourself in water, then repeating the process again. you'd think the group of boys would have some complaints about you hogging the last few hits of their weed, but they just sat back and reveled in the sight of you struggling to keep up your pride, entertained at the sight of your flushed cheeks. 

  it wasn't until you were sucking at practically nothing that you realized you'd finished the blunt, still unsatisfied with the lack of buzz you felt.

  “wow that was exactly what I thought it would be, a total waste of money and lung health.” you laughed dryly, leaning back onto the couch in discontent. 

  “not your money.” mattsun rolled his eyes at you.

  “just wait till it hits, she’ll be fucked.” makki laughed loudly at your expense, nodding his head in your direction at mattsun. 

  all the guys chuckled in unison, they seemed to do that a lot through out the night.

  “glad our weed was just a waste to you, maybe buy your own next time.” oikawa’s eyes held mischief in them as they glared at you, a playful scowl on his lips.

  “oh i’m sorry, did i waste your precious weed?” you jutted your bottom lip out in a faux pout, your eyes containing an unintentionally seductive glint in them. 

  oikawa narrowed his eyes back at you, feeding into the little game you were starting. 

  “yeah, I think you did. how ‘bout you pay up for it, hm sweetheart?” he leaned over his lap, forearms resting on the tops of his thighs and his face nearing closer to yours. 

  your mouth opened to retort something back, but words failed to come out as your vision started becoming hazy and an urge to laugh started sprouting in your stomach. you couldn't contain the laughter that spilled from your mouth, cheeks heating up and body beginning to feel numb. 

  “yeah...she’s gone.” iwaizumi chuckled. 

  oikawa smirked at you, his face still so close to yours that you could faintly feel the warmth of his breath on you. 

  “no i’m not...” you let out a few more giggles as you felt a numbing feeling take over your arms and legs. you slapped your legs in hopes to regain some feeling in them, giggling once again at how heightened your senses were becoming. 

  “oh god, wasn't expecting to have to babysit today.” makki groaned from the other side of the couch.

  “you literally aren't doing anything.” mattsun prodded back at him.

  “true, this is oikawa’s problem now.”

  the chesnut-haired man chuckled in front of you, pressing his hands to his knees as he pushed himself off the coffee table.

  “there's no way i’m letting you get in an uber tonight, come with me.” he held his hand out in front of your face.

  your mind was on a whole different level than his. your vision felt extremely clear, you couldn’t help how your eyes trailed over every tattoo and vein running down oikawa’s hand and forearm right in front of you - mouth unapologetically agape at the sight. 

  “come on, don't give me a hard time, yeah?” his voice sounded smoother than you ever heard it, it echoed in your brain and overstimulated your senses. you wanted to hear more. 

  “no.” you pouted, reddening eyes glancing up through your lashes to lock with his. 

  “no?”

  “no.” you were firm, or tried to be, another fit of giggles threatened to bubble out of your throat. 

  he cocked an eyebrow at you, clearly not following your message. 

  “want...oikawa...” you were unable to finish your sentence, your brain suddenly forgetting what words were supposed to come next.

  he leaned down to your height with his hands propped up against his knees, face merely inches from yours. he held a permanent smirk on his lips and his eyes teased you with faux seduction, oikawa almost always knew what he was doing. 

  “want me to do what?” his voice was lower than usual, softer too. 

  “need...” you knew you needed something, you just couldn't think of what.

  “yeah? keep going, baby.”

  you furrowed your brows in frustration, your brain was a little too hazy for your liking and the small bit of rationality that you still had inside you was getting fed up with how stupid you were acting. 

  “kiss.” you blurted out, then bit your lip and dropped your gaze as if you just exposed a secret that you weren't supposed to tell anymore. 

  “a kiss where?” he taunted you, bringing a finger underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his once more. 

  what felt like a few seconds to you - was almost a full minute in real time, of you staring up at oikawa; mouth agape, eyes hooded, not saying a word.

  “everywhere.” he almost couldn't hear you, because of how soft your words came out. 

  oikawa didn't show it, but his stomach erupted in warmth at your words, that same warmth flooding down to his crotch. he bit his tongue before responding to you, he knew damn well you were in no state of mind to be making these decisions. 

  but you just looked so pretty sitting below him like that; eyes lidded with the daze from your high mixed with lust, lips parted, and legs crossed to cover up the growing wetness coming from your core. 

  “mmm, tempting, but i don't particularly enjoy taking advantage of women while they're high.” he sighed, shaking his head in hopes it would get rid of his lewd thoughts.

  you pouted in return. sure, the buzz from your high was strong, strong enough to make you regret how bold you were acting when you woke up tomorrow, but not strong enough to have sex with someone you had no interest in. no, you had been looking him up and down all night long. you wanted this, the buzz just gave you the confidence you didn't have before - and who were you not to take this opportunity? 

  it wasn't just the lack of rationality from your high that made you want this from him, it was the heightened senses. every time you were close to him, everytime his eyes gazed over yours, you felt a million sparks burst through out your body. you were convinced that the second he touched you, your skin would ignite with flames. 

  you grabbed his hand, pulling him back in to destroy the distance he made between you two. 

  “i know what i want, and i've wanted this the whole night. despite what you think, i’m not some virgin mary. so are you gonna continue to act like a little pussy, or are you going to fuck mine?” 

  a gasp was heard from the right of you, makki. he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth after oikawa sent a glare his way. 

  “and what happens when you regret this tomorrow?” he raised an eyebrow down at you playfully.

  “something tells me that, that won't happen... unless, you're saying that it's short?” you questioned him with a gaze that fluttered down to his crotch, then back up to his eyes. 

  oikawa had to hold back the growl that threatened to escape his lips, and the hand that twitched in anticipation to squeeze your throat. 

  “oh, it’s most certainly not.”

  you had expected oikawa to take you back to his room, at least. 

  you didn't think he'd wrap his hand around your throat and push you up against the couch right there. 

  right in front of makki and mattsun.

  right next to iwaizumi. 

  you struggled against the strength of oikawa’s death grip around your neck, unsure if your hazy vision was from the loss of air you were getting or the impending high from the weed. 

  “you said you wanted to be fucked, right?” oikawa’s words were laced with a venom you hadn't heard from him before, his eyes sadistically glaring down into yours. 

  you opened your mouth to respond, but your words were cut off with a harsh cough from the painful position you were in. 

  “c’mon ‘kawa, at least loosen your grip a little.” iwaizumi’s voice of reason brought a warmth to your chest, suddenly grateful for his presence. 

  oikawa smirked above you, moving his hand from its grip on your throat to mindlessly caress the outside of your breasts, thumb pressing against the material of your dress where your nipples would be. 

 “fine, but only ‘cause iwa-chan said so.” you glared up at him, your competitive nature fighting the fear of him choking you again.

  you cleared your throat, well aware of the burning sensation still evident in your wind pipe, “i said i wanted to be fucked, yes, but not in front of your friends.” 

  that earned a chuckle from makki and mattsun - and a smirk from oikawa and iwaizumi. 

  “but i thought you wanted to prove you werent a little prude, i thought you would want to prove my friends wrong - or are you a coward like i predicted?” his thumb and middle finger were now pinching your nipple through the thin material of your dress and your bralette, making you squirm underneath him. 

  you could feel what you only assumed to be the peak of your high reaching, it was making every touch and every word from oikawa feel and sound 10 times better than it would've before. at this point you were willing to fuck him wherever he wanted. 

  cheeks flushed, and eyes averted to the side - away from oikawa’s face, you muttered a “fine.”

  “what was that, sweetheart? i can’t hear you.”

  “i said fine.”

  makki joined in on the teasing, “wait, what did she say oikawa? i cant hear from all the way over here.” 

  god, you couldn’t stand these fuckers.

  “i said, it’s fucking fine. jesus chri-” your aggrivated screams at the men were soon cut off by oikawa’s tight grip on your jaw, a searing kiss pressed against your lips soon following.

  “enough talking, you need to take my dick now.” oikawa was breathless after engaging in the fiery kiss, he was soon found ripping off your dress.

  you felt it, you felt the peak of your high approaching. everything felt so fucking good; his hands grazing your body as he ripped your dress off, the burning stares of makki, mattsun, and iwaizumi, and the empty buzz in the back of your head - it all made you feel breathless. 

  oikawa noticed your dazed out face, he hadn't even fucked you yet and you already appeared to be full of bliss. 

  “no fair, she’s high out of her mind and i’m sober. do me a favor and roll me a blunt while i eat her out, makki.” oikawa pouted above you, continuing to discard your clothing while he waited for makki to prepare him a blunt.

  you may have been peaking, but your mind jumped at the thought of oikawa eating you out. you were suddenly becoming extremely aware of the situation at hand again. 

  “i- are you sure about-” you stuttered, shaky hands from the numbing feeling of your high came down to grip at the soft panties you wore that oikawa was attempting to rip off. 

  “‘s the matter? has our little virgin mary never had her pussy licked before?” oikawa smirked down at your burning body, both burning in embarrassment and in an immense amount of desire. 

  you decided to stay silent, gaze averting to the side once again.

  oikawa wasn't having it, he gripped your chin with his free hand - pulling your gaze back to his.

  “you were all bark before, where's the bite? don't disappoint me now, y/n” his gaze was intense, to say the least, and your body still felt like it was floating from the peak. 

  you swallowed the thickness inside your throat, building the small amount of courage you had left. 

  “i can bite, and i will.” you looked up at him with complete malice, and he mirrored your expression, adding his trademark smirk to his lips. 

  “we’ll see about that, little one.” 

  the unexpected nickname had your head spinning, you were quick to feel a familiar heartbeat thumping down towards your core. 

  you soon felt extremely aware of the way he was touching you, head lowering down towards your thighs, gently pushing your hand away from its grip on your panties. 

  it was true, you hadn't been eaten out before. you only had sex once and your boyfriend at the time finished in 30 seconds, tops - leaving you unsatisfied and humiliated. 

  but oikawa felt different, even though the sex was initiated to save your pride - a competitive desire to prove yourself to people you had just met - you could tell that behind his teasing, he cared about your pleasure. it showed in his small touches; the way he gently caressed your skin before ridiculing you, the way his eye flickered up to yours before dipping his head in-between your thighs. you sensed the emotions he held deep inside of him, the ones he kept hidden. maybe that's the reason you felt you could trust him, maybe that's why you didn't run out of his house the second you saw his sketchy friends.

  maybe that’s why you so badly wanted to prove yourself to him. 

  makki began to roll a blunt, as instructed by oikawa, as he began eating you out. mattsun and iwaizumi’s eyes burned holes into your skin as they watched.

  your body twitched after the first few licks from him, immediately becoming obsessed with the feeling. oikawa’s tongue felt warm and soft against your clit, the slow pace of the circles around the bud were driving your body crazy. your thighs instinctively went to close around his head, but he held them down with a firm grasp, only intensifying the pace of his tongue in disapproval of how your body misbehaved.

  “relax.” he drawled into your skin, continuing his assault on your clit.

  you bit your lip and nodded in response, trying to keep your calm as your body had never experienced such pleasure before. 

  oikawa expertly switched his tongue from your clit to your hole, replacing the stimulation on your clit with his thumb whilst fucking you slowly with his firm tongue. you unintentionally let out a loud whine, head thrusting back into the plush pillow of the couch and fingers going to thread in oikawa’s brown locks.

  “feels good?” the voice came from next to you, iwaizumi’s. 

  your eyes glazed over to his, lids becoming heavy and lips parting open as you panted out a “yes.”

  oikawa noticed your attention diverting over from him to his best friend, his brows furrowed in annoyance. to grasp your attention once more, he removed his tongue from your hole and replaced it on your clit again, then shoved his middle finger inside you with no warning - making sure to curl it all the way up. 

  his harsh actions against your cunt had you loudly moaning with your head thrown back in both pain and pleasure. just one of his fingers alone filled you up more than your exes entire cock ever did. 

  your eyes immediately squeezed shut at the feeling, toes curling from the sensation of his finger thrusting inside you, mixed with the feeling of his tongue swirling your clit. 

  oikawa lifted his head to click his tongue at you, “no baby, you’re gonna look at me while you cum, okay?” 

  his tone was sweet, but firm enough to make you quickly shoot your eyes open and nod at him obediently. 

  he mumbled a “good girl” before going back to licking up and down your cunt. he went through a routine of switching between circling your clit, swiping his tongue from side to side, sucking on your swollen bud, and rapidly lapping up your pussy - all while fucking you with his finger. 

  he didn't even get the chance to add a second finger before you felt your climax approaching. your head was still spacey from the high, so you weren't sure if this feeling was from oikawa or if it was just your hazy brain, but you found out sooner than later as you orgasm began to take over you. 

  oikawa got the idea that you were reaching your climax as your little hole pulsed around his finger and your legs shook around his head. as much as he wanted to tease and edge you, he decided he wanted to fuck you more.

  he helped you ride out your orgasm as his tongue prodded at your clit relentlessly, licking and sucking at the firm bud, finger curling further and further into the depths of your gummy walls, 

  euphoria took over you as you felt the numbing feeling from your high intertwine with the body-racking orgasm that oikawa was providing you. your entire body felt lighter than it ever had before; sweet, pure release exiting your body. 

  your head was spinning and your chest was heaving from the aftermath, your body began to feel extremely tired. the weight from the entire day you had came crashing over you, as the sweet release you once felt subsided. you felt good, but you needed a nap. 

  through eyes that were barely open, you watched as oikawa smirked down at your disheveled form and carefully grabbed something from makki’s outstretched hand. 

  “glad you enjoyed that, princess, but it’s my turn now.” oikawa stealthily unbuttoned his pants after placing his blunt in-between his lips, strategically sucking in the smoke and blowing it out without having to remove the object from his lips. 

  you nodded at him, half-understanding what he meant. you were by no means sober, but you definitely felt the strong buzz dying down. 

  “i’m gonna need verbal responses, sweetheart.” he leaned down just above your face, breathing out smoke as he got closer. the strong scent filled up your nostrils.

  you couldn't help but scrunch your nose up at the strong smell, you may have been sucking down a blunt yourself not even 30 minutes ago, but you would never get used to the grotesque odor. 

  oikawa noticed, and raised a curious brow at you. 

  “ah, so we still think weed is gross? after you smoked almost an entire blunt by yourself?” his tone seemed amusing, but his eyes told a whole different story.

  “god, first she wastes our weed and now she acts like she didn't even like it?” mattsun crossed his arms over his chest while facing you, eyes giving your naked body a once over. 

  you were too blissed out to even fight them this time, you just desperately wanted a nap, 

  “hey, all i said was that i’d prove to you guys i’m not a prude, and i did. doesn't mean i have to like the smell of your stinky weed.” your words were mumbled from your tired state, but still not wanting to accept defeat.

  “nah, i don't think you’ve proved yourself at all yet.” makki chuckled dryly at you.

  “yeah, all you've done is get high and be a fucking pillow princess for oikawa.” mattsun chimed in.

  “and a brat too.” makki added on to mattsun’s sentence. 

  oikawa raised his chin cockily, clearly satisfied with his friend’s insolent words. 

  then, an idea clicked in his mischievous mind. he narrowed his eyes down at your pathetic figure sprawled out underneath him as he thought about it. 

  “oh please, don't be sore losers. i smoked your fucking weed and let oikawa eat me out, just admit i’m not a prude like you thought i was.” you tried to regain the similar confident composure that you held before, glaring over at makki and mattsun. 

  “hmm, maybe you aren't a prude, but you're still a pretentious brat, and brats deserve to be tamed. don't you think?” oikawa’s voice was smooth and easy-going, but his words were dripping with malice.

  you found the courage to narrow your eyes back up at oikawa, despite the internal feeling of your heart hammering against your chest.

  “and how do you plan on doing that?” you tested him.

  he chuckled lowly at your obviously feigned confidence, he could just tell by your flushed cheeks.

  he lowered his face to hover above yours for the nth time that night, placing the blunt in-between his lips and sucking the smoke into his mouth. before even inhaling, he pulled your bottom lip down with his thumb and put his lips on yours, releasing the thick smoke into your mouth. 

  your once lidded eyes were now widened, your hand quickly came up to grab at oikawa’s arm. he pulled away quickly, chuckling at how you choked on the smoke - eyes watering up again just as they had done before. 

  “you-” you choked out another cough, “asshole.”

  oikawa raised an eyebrow at you, reveling in the way his best friends laughed from the sidelines at your expense.

  “mmm, i don't think you're in any position to be calling me names.”

  you glared up at him, quickly blinking away the stray tears that remained in-between your lashes.

  “oh, and what position would that be?” the fire you held before was coming back, and this time it wasn't because you wanted to prove yourself.

  no, you just wanted to see how far you could push him. 

  a familiar large hand came up instinctively to wrap around your throat, pushing you against the couch once again as he tauntingly held the burning blunt inches away from your face. 

  “i wouldn't test me, darling. clearly, you aren't aware of how far i'll go to put a bitch like you in your place.” he spat down at you, his eyes were dark and he was still holding the glowing blunt way too close to your face for your liking.

  but you couldn't stop yourself, you kept pushing and pushing. 

  “show me then. i’m not getting any younger here, am i?” 

  a laugh was heard from your right, it was quickly muffled as mattsun slapped a hand over the mouth of its carrier: makki, of course.

  oikawa clicked his tongue at your confidence, knowing damn well that you'd regret it later. 

  “sure, i’ll show you.” he spoke in a low voice as he brought the hand holding his blunt down your body, stopping when he reached your thigh. you sucked in a nervous breath in anticipation, the burning bud was only a centimeter away from the smooth skin of your exposed thigh. your heartbeat was increasing and you felt your blood running cold, you opened your mouth to protest at the last moment, but the sadistic man beat you to it.

  you felt a burning sensation press into the outside of your thigh, causing you to immediately grab at oikawa’s arm with a shrill scream escaping your mouth. the man only laughed above you, nudging your death grip on his arm off with ease.

  “what’s the matter? i thought you could handle it.” he jutted his bottom lip out to feign a sorrowful expression, you wanted to kill him. 

  “you just- you just fucking burned me.” your chest was heaving and you felt yourself slowly getting terrified at what would come next.

  the boys next to you were silent as they watched the scene unfold, oikawa could only smirk down at you. 

  he pulled another hit out of the blunt and dipped his head in-between the crevice of your neck and shoulder. you tensed at the feeling of his lips being so close to your skin, then relaxed when you felt him blow the warm smoke into your skin. the subtle feeling of the warmth from the smoke ghosting over your skin almost made you moan out loud. instead, your body betrayed you with a shudder.

  “mmm, something tells me you liked that. don't act so innocent, little slut.” your breath hitched at his words.

  “just because i may have liked that, doesn't mean i enjoyed being used as an ashtray.” you gestured towards your scorned thigh.  

  he chuckled lowly at you, then brought his free hand down towards the burn mark left in your skin and pressed his thumb against it slowly. this time, the painful feeling of a sting in your skin forced a guttural moan out of your throat, instead of a screech. you instinctively brought your hand up to cover your mouth, eyes wide in embarrassment. 

  “really? ‘cause i think you do.” oikawa laughed at your obvious humiliation and pulled your hand away from your mouth, rolling his eyes in the process.  

  “c’mon, quit acting like a damn prude still, darling. admit you're enjoying this shit.” mattsun spoke from his spot on the couch, now resting his right arm over the side of the couch to get a better look at you. 

  you scoffed at him, cocking your head towards him in response. 

  “i thought i was a brat, not a prude anymore.” 

  makki chuckled at your rebuttal.

  “’kawa, i think she’s getting a little too feisty again, you might wanna smoke her out again.” 

  you almost choked at his words, quickly whipping your head back to face oikawa. you felt your stomach drop at the devilish smirk he gave you. 

  you were just beginning to sober up, and they already wanted you dumbed down again? 

  “fair point, makki. i can't fuck her while she’s running her mouth like this, right?”

  before you knew it, your mouth was being filled with smoke again. oikawa restarted his method of sucking on the blunt before pressing his lips to yours again. your mind was entering a similar haze as before once again, body also being filled with warmth and pleasure as oikawa began rubbing his bare cock against your pussy. 

  before sliding in, he pressed his shortening blunt against your skin once more - this time, on the fat of your right hip. you pleasantly moaned at both the pain and pleasure from the sensation this time, and oikawa couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your walls visibly crashing down. 

  he didn't even give you a second to adjust to the searing pain you felt on your skin before he was thrusting into you, causing you to practically scream at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. 

  “oh, f-fuck.” your nails made their home on the skin of his back, sinking into his smooth flesh in response to the pain you felt in your core. to your dismay, the numbing feeling that spread across your body from your high didn't help at all to prevent the newfound pain from oikawa’s cock entering you. 

  “god, look at her. our little virgin mary is being corrupted.” mattsun’s deep voice was heard from across the couch. you were surprised to look over and see him fisting his own girthy cock while staring down at you, makki and iwa were doing the exact same thing. 

  oikawa chuckled breathlessly at his comment, earning your attention back to him. 

  “shit, you're tighter than i expected, princess.” his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his eyes were slightly hooded from his approaching high, and his tattoo littered arms were flexed in front of you for support - you decided you had never been more turned in your entire life. 

  “move, please.” you begged breathlessly, head feeling hazy and numb, while your body felt extremely sensitive to the touch. your senses were heightened once again and it had you craving an orgasm more than ever. 

   “since you asked so politely.” oikawa’s hips began snapping at that moment, hard thrusts sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

  next to you, the three boys began pumping their cocks with more fervor, pace quickening in time with oikawa’s. 

  oikawa didn't cease his antics of blowing smoke into your mouth either. with his cock slamming into you at such an ungodly speed, your lips were constantly parted open - leaving him easy access to fill up your lungs with the same smoke you disdained so much. 

  your body was betraying your mind. physically, you felt fucking amazing - but mentally, you wanted to yell at oikawa to quit his abuse on your lungs. 

  “q-quit it with the smoke. i think i’m high enough.” you stumbled over your words.

  oikawa bit down on your neck in response to your distaste, hot breath fanning over your ear to whisper lowly, “quit being a fucking brat first, and take what i give you.” 

  you shut your mouth obediently, until makki chimed in.

  “you should be grateful that oikawa is being so generous as to blow his weed into your mouth without making you do a damn thing. say thank you, slut.” his words were harsh and gritted through his clenched teeth as he pumped his cock harder, eyes burning into your skin. 

  you whimpered at his pitiless words and at the feeling of oikawa thrusting into you with more power, clearly encouraged by his friends praise.

  “i-” your remark was cut off by oikawa’s firm hand around your throat once more.

  “what do you have to say to me?” his eyes burned into yours, telling you that his question was not actually a question, but a demand. 

  “t-thank you, oikawa.” your eyes were brimming with tears from the lack of oxygen circulating towards your brain. 

  he only squeezed harder.

  “what's my fucking name.” his lips were ghosting over yours now, his hot breath only added to the heat that was already evident on your face. 

  your bottom lip wobbled, you had no idea what kind of name he would like. if you guessed wrong, what would he do?

  “thank you, sir.” you silently prayed you chose the right one, and your prayer was granted as oikawa removed his tight grip from your throat and smashed his lips onto yours - practically growling into the kiss. 

  you moaned into his mouth as you felt the pleasure in your stomach building up at an increasingly fast speed. your head was spinning and your body was on fire, you never felt better in your life.

  “feels...so fucking good.” your words came out in pants. you could barely think straight anymore; your mind was only filled with oikawa’s cock and the impending numbness from weed. 

  your attention was snatched from oikawa as you heard a deep guttral moan come from the side of you, it was iwaizumi’s. the once quiet man was becoming more vocal as his own orgasm was approaching.

  “yeah, you like getting high and getting fucked in front of random strangers you just met, huh?” your face burned at his surprising words, never did you expect to hear such a sentence come from (what you thought was) such a polite man’s mouth. 

  then again, you never even expected you would ever be in a situation like this before either. 

  “y-yes, i do.” your walls had broken down and they could all see it. there was no more sticking your nose up at them anymore, no more bratty comments at the expense of their drug of choice, and no more pretending like you weren't enjoying yourself tonight - because you clearly were. 

  the boys chuckled all at once at your sudden submission, but oikawa wasn't surprised. 

  there was only a small bud left of what was the blunt in oikawa’s hand, but he manage to suck one more hit out of it. you parted your lips with expectations of him to release the puff of smoke into your mouth, but to your surprise, he ducked his head above your left breast and let out the smoke slowly over your perked nipple. the subtle sensation left goosebumps all over your body, causing you to moan under his soft touch.

  see, unbeknownst to you, oikawa was a man of observation - and he couldn't help but become blatantly aware of your body’s hypersensitivity to the small, subtle actions he went about. whether it be from the weed or from your inexperience in sexual situations, oikawa didn't know. he just knew he was extremely fascinated and infatuated with the way your body reacted to him. 

  he bored down into your lidded, reddening eyes, your lips were parted as you panted out his name and the look on your face only told him that you were gone.

  he swore he had never fucked somebody prettier than you, he silently hoped one day he'd get to see you with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

  unable to help himself, oikawa stuck his thumb into your mouth, pushing the digit as far in as it would go. 

  you were taken aback by the action at first, but your mind was quickly put at ease by the warm feeling of being filled by him in two different places at once. you swirled your tongue around his finger, both sucking on it and licking it.

  the sight in front of him had his knees practically buckling above you, he couldn't fight the approaching feeling of his orgasm unraveling before him. 

  “you're gonna be a good little girl and let me cum inside you, yeah?” his voice was hoarse, moans and grunts beginning to spill from his lips more while he looked down at you with complete darkness in his eyes. 

  god, you weren't thinking straight.

  but you really didn't care. 

  you nodded as best as you could with the spinning feeling inside your head, body filling to the brim with pleasure as you felt your own orgasm approaching you. oikawa quickened his pace as he felt your cunt squeezing his girth, almost like your body had a mind of its own to suck him dry. 

  “such a little slut, letting you fill her up with smoke and cum.” mattsun’s deep voice was heard from beside iwaizumi. his eyes were still glued to your form and the head of his cock was a bright red, begging for release. 

  “let’s see you try and act fucking innocent again after this.” makki added with a chuckle, he was just as close to finishing as his friend. 

  you moaned helplessly at their ridicules, feeling your coil so close to snapping.

  “god, you fucking revel in the attention don't you? you're literally getting off from being watched like this, so exposed and vulnerable.” mattsun spoke up again.

  yours and oikawa’s labored breathing harmonized as you both got closer and closer to your releases. 

  “they're right, you're such a little fucking attention whore. sucking in my cock like that while my friends watch. you're so desperate, it’s pathetic.” oikawa was internally amazed at himself for being able to muster a complete sentence out while his cock was so close to being practically milked. 

  you whined in response, your cheeks heating up. you didn't care about anything else, you just wanted to cum. 

  “p-please, i'm so close.” you cried out, tears beginning to brim at your eyes. 

  “fuck. cum, cum princess.” the voice came from your right side, your eyes trailed over to the source, being iwaizumi. 

  oikawa scoffed, “you don't listen to anyone else, got that? just me, sweetheart.” he shot daggers with his eyes towards iwaizumi, and he shot them right back at oikawa. 

  you blinked your eyes at oikawa, not realizing the competitive banter between them until now.

  “let her fucking cum already, ‘kawa.” iwa growled at his best friend, his cock was an angry red. you could tell he just wanted to finish, as well as makki and mattsun. 

  oikawa gritted his teeth, knowing damn well that his orgasm was approaching too. 

  “alright, cum for me, slut. squeeze my fucking cock with that pretty little cunt of yours, okay?” 

  his wish was your command, and it’s not like you were able to hold back anymore, anyway.

  you felt the coil snap inside you; already fuzzy mind going completely blank, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, and thighs shaking around oikawa’s torso. he felt your cunt pulse around his cock and he couldn't help how quick his orgasm followed after yours, teeth instinctively latching onto your shoulder as he pumped you full of his semen. 

  oikawa helped you ride out your high as he slowed down his thrusts, eventually ceasing them. your orgasm combined with oikawa’s was so intense, that you failed to even acknowledge that the three boys next to you were coming too, fists beginning to slow down their movements. 

  after a few minutes of collective panting heard throughout the room, makki broke the silence.

  “holy shit.”

  you agreed, holy shit was right. 

  after passing out on oikawa’s couch from pure exhaustion, the sobering-up man carried you, with some effort, to his room to spend the night. being the gentleman he was, he tucked you in carefully under the covers of his bed and set up a somewhat comfortable sleeping arrangement for himself on the living room couch. 

  before retreating to his makeshift bed to crash on for the night, he peaked into his room once more - eyes scanning over your sleeping figure as you slept soundly. he noticed that while you slept, all the worry and pouting that was usually so evident on your face seemed to fade away. you look relaxed, at ease even. he thought maybe you just needed to loosen up more, to let your worries fade away every so often, while you lose yourself in the late hours of the night.

  he thought that maybe, he could be the one to teach you how. 

[julies-butterflies]

“One of us is starting to fall asleep.”-jukebox?

cuddle dialogue prompts  ( no longer accepting )                         ( read on ao3 )

By now, Julie knows that  Luke  and  sleep  don’t exactly get along.

Like... peanut butter and coleslaw. Studying and roller coasters. Alex and high school athletics. Luke and sleep are polar opposites, and flat-out don’t have time for each other. Whatever fundamental sequence of Luke’s DNA, whatever weird criss-cross firing of neurons in his head looks at a good night’s sleep, and decides, “nope, not for me...”

Well, Julie doesn’t  get it, but that’s how Luke’s made. Apparently, it’s how he’s always been, even when he was alive. Everyone else just has to deal with it.

“You’re keeping me up,” she announces, drawing her fuzzy blanket tighter around her shoulders.

Luke’s head shoots up, surprised — and sure, he’s got a right to be, considering it’s almost two in the morning. No sane person would be up this late. Not by choice, anyways... and Julie isn’t  choosing  to be awake herself. Something inside of her — one of those lightbulbs in her chest that blaze bright whenever the boys are near, that can feel them like a low, humming frequency even when they’re out of sight — is still awake, and buzzing. Late nights are like this. Whenever Luke can’t put himself to sleep — whether his brain is too loud, or his body too charged with energy — Julie feels it. She doesn’t want to, and definitely doesn’t enjoy it... but this is what her life has become. Being kept awake half the night by cute, insomniac ghosts.

He lowers his pencil slowly, and pulls his notebook against his chest. Luke sucks his cheeks, looking sheepish. 

“Sorry. I, uhh, I was just —“ He gestures vaguely around the darkened studio. A few faint snores echo from the loft, where Alex has set up a private space for himself. Reggie is face down on the sofa in a pile of blankets, hugging them to his chest like a kangaroo protecting its baby. (Julie’s going to have to get him a stuffed animal to snuggle one of these days; half the reason Luke doesn’t sleep, she suspects, is because Reggie’s such a blanket hog.)

The studio is dark except for a single light, glowing in the corner of the room. Luke is curled up there, with his notebook against his knees… but he wasn’t writing when Julie slipped in. He was glaring down at the page like it personally offended him. Now, he sets the notebook aside without a second glance, turning his full attention on her.

“Just felt like there was a song in my head, and I had to get it out. But it’s, uhh…” He gives his shaggy head a shake. “Not coming.”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re exhausted.” Julie crosses her arms. “It’s way past bedtime, Luke.”

“I’m a ghost, though.” He spreads his arms wide and leans back in his seat, like that’s something to be proud of. “Ghosts don’t  have  bedtimes.”

Without blinking, Julie crosses over to the couch and gives it a firm kick.

“Reggie? When’s your bedtime?”

Reggie snorts, popping his head up. “Ten-thirty,” he mutters… before faceplanting in the blankets again.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Reggie can have a bedtime if he wants to. I’m a free agent.”

“You’re an insomniac, and should probably talk to someone.”

“You know any good ghost doctors?”

Julie’s eye twitches. “We’ll  find  one.”

Tipping his head back towards the ceiling, Luke clicks his tongue. “I dunno, Jules, it’s been a while since my last checkup… I don’t got time for all the bells and whistles, you know? They’re gonna take that little hammer to my knee, and it’s gonna go right through me… they're gonna look for my heartbeat and be real confused... probably try to give me some spooky X-rays…” He gasps, and bolts upright. “Julie, they’re gonna find out I don’t have a skeleton!”

Okay, thinks Julie, the late hour is definitely getting to his head.

“Is that your excuse?”

The unexpected voice from the darkness sends them both jumping out of their skin. Luke flails, nearly falling out of his chair; blinking up at the loft, Julie’s eyes widen as a  phenomenal  mess of bedhead peeks out over the railing.

“We all know you’re afraid of needles. You haven’t had a booster shot in thirty years, Luke.” Alex glares down at them both. “Now, either shut up or go away, some of us are trying to sleep!”

Reggie holds up a hand, and mumbles something like “agreed,” into his pillow.

Clapping her palm over her mouth, Julie exchanges a sheepish glance with Luke. It takes every ounce of her self-control not to burst out laughing — Alex might actually start throwing things at them — but from the way Luke’s shoulders shake, she doesn’t trust him to hold out.

“Okay, sorry, we’re leaving,” she says in an hushed rush… and, before Luke can say another word, she snags him by the arm and pulls him with her.

They slip out the doors of the studio, and break into the humid night air. May in Los Angeles is just beginning to get hot -hot; warm enough to justify tank tops instead of sweatshirts, flip-flops instead of monster slippers. Julie’s pajamas aren’t anything interesting — Luke’s seen her in worse — but under the cool moonlight, his eyes still drink her in as if seeing her for the first time.

“You sleep with all those necklaces on?” he asks.

Okay, maybe he is seeing her for the first time, because Julie’s slept with her jewelry on since, like… sixth grade.

“You’re just noticing?”

“They’re pretty in the moonlight,” he replies, like it’s a foregone conclusion; then his brows furrow. “What if they choke you?”

“That’s not how it works, Luke.”

“Sure it is! All they need to do is get a little tangled up —“ He mimes, presumably, Julie doing acrobatics in her sleep. “And  wham,  you end up all strangled to death! I know we’ve got a gimmick, Julie, but we don’t gotta make it a full-phantom band so soon.”

“You say that like you’ve got plans for my death.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, the picture of innocence. “Not in the near future, but, y’know, we can't have you out-aging us…”

“Oh,” she says, beginning the long trek up the pathway to the house. “So I’ve got… two years before you guys decide to kill me. That’s reassuring.”

Luke follows after her, their footsteps echoing together. “Eh, we could stretch it to five. Six, tops. You’re tiny, you’ve still got a few good years left in you. Not like you’re gonna go all grandma on us  too  soon.”

Julie gasps, and swats at him. Luke accepts the hit to the chest with dignity, biting back a grin. He looks unfairly handsome in the moonlight… and Julie refuses to think about that, because it opens up a wole Pandora’s Box of issues, ranging from the obvious  (he’s a ghost eternally trapped at seventeen and, unless he somehow comes back to life through the power of music, I  am  going to get older than him someday)  to the serious  (he’s keeping me up at two in the morning).

Luke isn’t handsome. He’s a sleepless menace, and Julie shouldn’t entertain him a second longer.

They reach her door. Somehow, they come to a stop at exactly the same time, turning towards each other. Julie tugs her blanket tighter around her bare shoulders. Luke reaches out, and pulls the door open for her.

“I guess —“ he says.

“Yeah,” Julie agrees quickly. “Sounds good.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

“Goodnight, then?”

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

They smile at each other for a second, close-lipped and quiet… before something in Julie breaks, and she lays a hand on his arm. Somehow, he’s always so warm under her touch, so solid. He feels like a promise always kept… a steadiness, a certainty. A comfort.

“Come on,” she says softly, taking them both by surprise. “My bed has room for two.”

---------

He’s still so very warm, in bed next to her, with their legs tangled and bodies brushing whenever they move. It’s too humid for covers, so Julie’s got her favorite sheet, instead. As soon as Luke sees it, he billows it up into the air, and lets it fall down on top of them both like a parachute. Julie claps a hand over her mouth to hide her giggles. Even in the darkness of her bedroom — lit by the dimly glowing fairylights she only put on to keep Luke from tripping over her carpet — his grin is blinding. As the sheet flutters down over them both, she stretches her arms up to welcome it; he laughs so loudly, it’s a good thing her dad and brother can’t hear.

“This,” she huffs, once they’re both hiding under the covers, “this isn’t what we should be doing. It’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Totally right.” Luke’s quiet for a moment — before shaking the covers again, causing a wave of air to roll over them. He makes a ridiculous whoosh! noise, and Julie snorts.

“Stop!” She swats at his shoulder again; the sound is harsher than the impact. Luke yelps and curls in on himself, feigning a mortal injury. Over his groans and moans and  “Julie, how could you”s,  Julie can’t restrain another fit of giggles.

Oh god, she’s gone for this boy. She really is.

It’s two in the morning, and she’s in hysterics in her bedroom over a boy no one else in the world can see… and he’s smiling at her like she’s the brightest star blazing in the sky, and his legs are brushing hers, and she can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the warmth of his breath… which shouldn’t be possible, because he’s  dead.

Luke reaches up. Gently, he brushes a stray curl from Julie’s temple. His hand lingers, and Julie feels dizzy.

“This feels like heaven,” he says softly.

Julie’s breath catches.

“I… thought you said you’d never get there.”

“Yeah, well…” When he chuckles, his breath ruffles her hair. “I’m not much of a believer in the ‘all rockstars go to heaven’ kinda thing… I don’t even know if I buy into that stuff, period.” He shrugs, and glances down, at the bare inches of space in between them. “But this… is what it’d feel like, I think. Right here, with you. This kind of forever.”

“With...” She swallows past a throat that is suddenly too dry, forcing words together in a head that reverberates with  heaven  and  you. Forever. God, can they make this last forever?

Instead of speaking, her hand finds Luke’s in the darkness. Their palms press; their fingers intertwine. He is restless beneath her touch, all calluses and carelessness and nervous energy… but Julie holds him until she feels him relax, then slowly raises their hands up between them.

“I’d like that,” she whispers. “To stay here forever.”

His eyes shine bright. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She swallows. “As long as it’s with you.”

These are exactly the sort of confessions that could not be made any time other than late in the night, or early in the morning — that funny liminal space of existence, the hours where nothing is really real, and everything feels like it matters too much. Julie is floating, and Luke is right here with her. He’s smiling inches away from her face… and if she wanted to lean over, to close the distance between them, it would be as easy as breathing.

She doesn’t, though, because this moment feels sacred. She won’t claim it selfishly for herself — won’t turn it into something it’s not. This moment is shared, between her and Luke... secrets whispered in the dark for their ears alone. It should stay that way.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes softly, like it’s all he knows for sure.

“You’re amazing,” she replies, in the same voice.

“You’re a star.”

“You’re inspiring.”

“You make me feel alive again.”

“So do you.”

They exhale in the silence, the words floating through the air around them. Julie imagines she can see them glowing in the darkness. If she wanted, she could pluck them out of thin air, tuck them away in her dream box and save them forever. This feels like the sort of moment that belongs there — halfway between dream and waking, almost too good to be true.

For a while, they don’t talk at all. Luke plays with her hair, and Julie twines their fingers. Their breaths match each other’s in the silence. It feels like floating down a lazy river, and slowly, Julie can feel herself being carried away.

She’s only aware of her eyes getting heavier when Luke’s fingers graze her brow, and she can’t force her lids open to look at him.

“Looks like one of us is starting to fall asleep,” Luke teases, his voice soft.

Julie humms, and feels herself smile. “You.”

“Not me.” His voice is smiling, too. “You.”

“You need t’ sleep.” She exhales, and sees it ruffle his hair like leaves on a tree. His nose scrunches up. He doesn’t look drowsy — not like he’s drowning in it, like she is — but he’s not wide awake, either. His head is quiet, his soul is calm; the hive of bees buzzing in Julie’s chest has given up the ghost for tonight. (Little Luke-shaped bees, with beanies and guitars, who keep flying into everything because they’ve got too much energy…)

She bursts into giggles again at the thought. They spill from her lips like honey; she’s too tired to silence them, nevermind hide her grin. Instead, she slumps against Luke, muffling herself against his shoulder. He smells like pine needles and sunshine. His arms wrap around her back to steady her, and she can feel him smiling against her, and Julie thinks…

Julie thinks…

Forever.

“What’s so funny?” he murmurs into the crown of her head.

“Bees,” she replies, and giggles again.

“Oh yeah?” He hums, like this makes perfect sense. “I mean, yeah, they’re pretty hilarious.”

“Mmm.” She presses her face against his shoulder, and decides to stay there. “Mmm.”

For a long moment, he’s completely still — like the world’s most realistic stuffed animal, the coziest pillow ever made — before his hand tentatively begins to massage between her shoulder blades, running up and down her spine.

“You good, Julie?” he murmurs softly, and Julie humms again.

“Stay with me,” she manages to say.  Forever. “Sleep here… with me.”

Luke’s caress feels like a lullaby. The lips that graze her temple are a promise.

“Don’t worry, Julie,” he murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Somehow,  forever feels good enough for tonight.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.

******

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”

[magireco]

out of curiosity what do you think of the characterization of homura in rebellion? i hugely dislike it but get the impression you enjoy it which i think is interesting cuz we seem to have very similar thoughts on homura pre-rebellion (CORRECT ME IF I AM WRONG)

THIS IS INTERESTING BECAUSE IT DEPENDS ON WHAT FLAVOR OF REBELLION HOMURA YOU MEAN. i really really like the way she was done in the first half of the movie but as for the twist at the end...? mmm...

...okay, so... i've been thinking about saying this at some point but i keep avoiding it in fear of causing discourse and such bc... this is a really unpopular opinion apparently, but I really do not think devil homura was done properly. read under the cut if you wanna know why i feel this way!

the first issue i'm going to address is that there wasn't NEARLY enough buildup for it. i'm going to explain this from the perspective of a first-time viewer: what would you have thought would happen after the very last scene of rebellion leading up to them breaking homura out of her soul gem? when homulilly got purified and the flowers on her head turned to sakura flowers (y'know, the flowers that symbolize life and rebirth, homura being reborn from her witch)? did you think homura was suddenly gonna undermine madoka's godliness? because, uh, first-view me did not think that at all. and neither did almost anyone i know who watched it for the first time. not only is that poor setup but it's just so sudden and it feels so out of character compared to what we'd seen in the entire series as a whole, especially considering that the entire last part of the movie leading up until that was about purifying her... and saving her... there wasn't enough buildup. most people are like "but the flower scene happened!" but that's still way too vague...? it's hard to tell what conclusion homura comes to at the end, because we don't get to see any of her internal monologue... there is no other buildup after the flower scene... it just skips to homura realizing she's a witch. wouldn't that bring the viewer to think the flower scene was something that made homura realize she was a witch rather than her suddenly starting to form her plan? it always felt like to me the conclusion homura came to at the end of the flower scene was that she was validating madoka's bravery and telling her that if it ever came to that, she'd have the ability to make that hard decision. which is... so... weird? because i always interpreted that as homura coming to terms with what happened? i could just be interpreting it wrong though, but isn't that supposed to be our proof scene? our buildup scene? why would they make it so hard to understand? we need to know such important buildup points just as blatantly as the natural buildup to homura becoming a witch was. that's just from a moviemaking & writing perspective though.

secondly, i'm gonna discuss homura's motive. i actually ended up understanding were she was coming from after a while of being like "what the hell that makes zero sense!!!!". madoka is a 14-year-old girl who, in order to save the fate of every magical girl, literally had to sacrifice herself and erase herself from the world, and in the end, madoka just ended up saving homura again, and that must've made homura feel like her promise with madoka was never fulfilled. it's unfair what happened when you think about it and the law of cycles should not have been run by madoka herself because she, as any other 14 year old, deserves to be happy on earth. although it was said in magireco that madoka felt happy with what she was doing (and she felt like it truly gave her a purpose), she did admit to feeling lonely and homura probably made that assumption big time. but the way the writers went about it just made her seem so sinister... so out-of-character-ly sinister. what with the evil smirking and the deepened, almost... uh, sensual-seeming voice, and homura completely ignoring madoka's fear. it feels like they twisted her character extremely suddenly and it throws the viewer on a loop. they could've gone with that ending without making such drastic and sudden changes to homura's character, and if they were planning on doing that, why did they not give us more buildup? buildup that wasn't extremely cryptic that you have to scan and search every detail to get a clue? something i love about rebellion is that every time you watch you find something new, but how come some of the only clues illuding to devil homura's existence are in the op? it's odd. why didn't they go with something like making the incubators run the law of cycles? they were the ones at fault for causing it to be created. but honestly, the incubators cannot be trusted with anything, which is why it'd make sense for a magical girl to run the law of cycles, but if homura and madoka had the combined power to do so, what if they just remade the law of cycles so it was less unfair to madoka...? i don't know. either of those possibilites would make more sense than what happened.

something else that kind of irks me about it is that they demonized(literally, lol) homura's love for madoka. homura is very much a canon lesbian, and it's incredibly discomforting to me that they made her seem, outwardly to the viewer, so selfish...? please don't get me wrong, i'm not ACTUALLY calling homura selfish -- i know the entire akumura facade is a mask she put on, but like, it's so much more blatantly sinister than she is in the series when she's putting on the coolmura facade. it's going to really confuse the viewer and see every single one of her actions from the entire series in a completely different light, INCLUDING stuff that happened in rebellion itself. like the genuine sadness homura felt, the way we saw into her soul and felt her pain, that genuinely made a lot of people i've seen think that it was ingenuine upon first inspection... they made homura turn "evil" out of her love for madoka, as if it's a bad thing to fall in love, and as if love for another girl was what corrupted her soul gem... i understand that gen urobuchi probably wanted to explore that kind of path where love leads to obsession or whatever, but homura was selfless to a fault, constantly trying to force herself away from the others in order to not get attached, and deeply afraid of seeming creepy and predatory and scaring(she said this herself), which is exactly what she ends up doing at the end, and i feel so awful that they did that to her... how is the viewer supposed to know what her true motives are at that point? it gets all scrambled up after they did that huge plot twist. i'm going to address another thing super quick before people jump in my ask box over this, i understand also that it would make sense for homura to be obsessed with madoka, but in the series, it was never shown in this light, and like i said, if they were going to do this, why'd they even have the purification scene at the end at all? the buildup is all wrong . it also just made me upset that this ending caused SO many people to start literally believing homura is evil because of her actions at the end, and it made people become even more vehement on their beliefs that homura is obsessive and ps*cho...

i was really confused when i watched it for the first time (and also sobbing hysterically, literally, my funniest rebellion story as someone who has genuinely watched the movie 40-ish times, i remember vividly the first time i watched it i started sobbing on my hands and knees on a yoga mat in my mom's room). also like, just to prove my point a teensy bit more, the ending was so ambiguous and out of nowhere that one of the first google results to "madoka magica rebellion" is "madoka magica rebellion ending explained" because it shocked people so much that that was the first thing they needed to google. also, the fact they left us on such a vague cliffhanger and then abandoned the movie series for a total of 8 whole years only to make a sudden comeback in god's holy year of 2021 was almost cruel. LIKE GUYS I JUST FINISHED UP MY DEVIL HOMURA HEADCANONS IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!!!

...anyways, um, i really have to address the sexualization. madoka magica, previously, was a series that avoided fanservice in the show, at least, but why did they make akumura's design look like that...? it shows an unsettling amount of skin and like, every three seconds in the end they're focusing intensely on her lips and her eyes and... it's almost like the writers forgot she was 14, but they never seemed to forget that in the series? what happened????? in the transformation scene, we get closeup views of homura's thighs and back and stuff and it's all open everywhere... they made her tights into thigh-highs... in the whole series, even when she went to school, she always wore tights, and she was wearing tights in her magical girl outfit too... they absolutely deliberately did that to sexualize her further so they could make official art with her thighs out. speaking of official art that unsettles me, why does so much of the official art make the whole outfit just glued to her body and you can see all the shading on her features... it's just. ugh. anyways.

i went off a LITTLE too much on this and i know this is probably gonna get me some weird glances in the fandom and i am open to hearing other people's opinions but i don't think i'll ever stop disliking the effect this plot twist had on the fandom's interpretation of homura and although i'm like UNDENIABLY incredibly hyper excited for the next movie, i'm kind of...nervous for what this is going to bring? i don't want this next movie to cause the same amount of discourse the ending of rebellion did and i legit just want to see homura happy. another one of my main issues with the ending is just that homura is SO unhappy when she literally deserves to be happy SOOOOOOO BAD and just take a break from all the loops ... i'm Praying to madokami out there that that's what happens.

i know this is all really funny coming from someone who draws devil homura on a regular basis and literally writes her, but like... i'm a lesbian i'm allowed to<3

ANYWAYS thanks for listening this was a fun ask!!!

[avengerscompound]

It’s You and Me - Chapter 12

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1724

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Foreplay, mentions of sex, mentions of drug use, being triggered

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back.  Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you.  For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down.  Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father.  Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 12: Then

Clint was starting to miss the circus.  It was never that he didn’t like the circus.  He loved the circus.  It was his family and he loved performing.  He loved the positive reinforcement he got from the crowd when they cheered him on.  He had loved being with Eden.

He just didn’t like all the underground stuff, and just because he’d gotten to the point where that shit had pushed him over the edge, didn’t mean he wanted to lose the rest of it.  He was beginning to regret calling the police.  What ended up happening was they’d pinned the murder on her and the others had just being accessories.  She’d gotten locked up and Tiboldt just moved the circus on leaving you and Clint behind, and Clint felt terrible.

The two of you had been trying to make your way together since but it wasn’t easy.  When it was just the two of you, you had to find places to perform on your own.  You busked a lot, but it was never a huge moneymaker.  Often it wouldn’t even cover a place to stay that night, and you’d end up having to sleep rough, either on the outskirts of town or in a park somewhere.

Thankfully, he’d managed to get you both a two-week job at a carnival which while it didn’t pay a lot - it meant you had a roof over your head and it was easy enough to talk some of the girls who worked the food stands into giving him funnel cake or corn dogs on the house.

The problem with working carnivals was that people were never there to see the performers.  They wanted to ride the rollercoaster and eat fried food.  People would drift in and out of his show offering meager applause and then get distracted by a balloon seller and wander off again.  He wanted to work somewhere where people wanted to see him and he could soak up their adoration.

He’d been lying on the bed in just his sweats, feeling sorry for himself when you showed up.  The place you were sharing was a crumby room with a bathroom that was shared with the entire floor in a hostel near the carnival.  A lot of transient people who picked up work at the carnival ended up living at the hostel, so it had only been a couple of days when he started recognizing all the faces.

You sat on the end of the bed and dropped a bag in front of you.  He didn’t look up as you seemed to take off your shoes and put a new pair on.  “Clint,” you said, tapping his leg to get his attention.  He propped himself up and raised his eyebrow.

You put one leg up on the edge of the bed, displaying the thigh-high boot you just put on.  It had a low heel and all the way up the side was a series of thick buckles.  It gave you both a dangerous and sexy look.  Something he’d been noticing more and more now it was just the two of you.  They also looked expensive.

“How did you pay for those?”  He asked.

“Didn’t,” you said.  “Don’t ask if you don’t wanna know.”

He sighed and flopped back down on the bed.  “Didn’t we leave the circus to get away from the crime shit?”

“I’m not murdering people.  I’m not committing grand larceny.  Just… we need shit, Clint.  You wanna keep performing to make money, I’m with you, but we’re not even earning enough to feed ourselves most days, and we have to upgrade our equipment sometimes,” you said.  “I promise, I’m not doing shit you’d really hate.”

He huffed and you lay down next to him, holding one leg up and patting your boot as you looked it over.  He rolled onto his side and watched you.  You were smiling a little and flicking your ankle so your calf flexed.  He wished he could trust you, but trust was hard for him.  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” he said.

You rolled over and looked at him.  “You didn’t drag me anywhere,” you said.  “You were right.  They went too far, but maybe we need to figure out what we’re okay with, because the way we’re headed, we’re not gonna be able to do anything because we won’t have any equipment, any food, or anywhere to live.”

He nodded.  “You’re right,” he said and worried at the inside of his cheek.  “No hurting people.”

“Of course not,” you agreed.

“No small businesses,” he said.  “Those guys are just trying to get by too.”

You nodded.  “I’d agree with that.”

“And if we hit a big store - you know, one owned by some big evil megacorp, we need to do it in a way that we’re not fucking up some dude who’s just running the checkout’s life,” he added.

“I feel like retail is a waste of time,” you said.

“You just stole some boots,” Clint argued.

“Did I?”  You said cryptically.

“Didn’t you?”  He asked.

You quirked an eyebrow at him and he started laughing.  “You little shit,” he said and started ticking you.

You screeched and started giggling, grabbing his wrists and trying to wrestle him off you.  He let you pin his hands behind his back and as he watched you, look at him smugly, your chest rising and falling as you caught your breath, he was struck by how sexy and dangerous you looked again.  He wasn’t sure when that happened.  He hadn’t always looked at you like that, and he wasn’t sure if you just different now, or if he just noticed it now.  He leaned in a little, his lips parted and you took a deep breath in, moving in closer to him too.

His lips came close to yours.  Alarmingly close.  He knew if he didn’t stop soon he was going to kiss you, and kissing you definitely meant things would change.  He blinked and pulled back.

“Sorry,” he said.  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“Why not?”  You asked, looking at him with your head slightly tilted.  You let go of his wrists and he pulled his arms back and rubbed one of them.

“I dunno… you’re a kid…” he said.

You laughed.  “I haven’t been a kid for a long time, Clint.”

“Oh,” he said, looking you up and down.

“And you were kind of a kid too when we met,” you added.  “You aren’t that much older than me.”

“Right,” he added.

“So if you want to kiss me, you can,” you said.  “It’ll be okay.”

He swallowed and nodded, not exactly sure if it would be, but wanting it nonetheless.  You leaned in again, and he bridged the difference, bringing his lips to yours.  You kissed him slowly and deeply, tangling your hands into his hair and guiding him onto his back.  He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your shoulder and thigh.  You rolled your hips against his leg and danced your tongue with his.  He groaned softly, surprised and extremely turned on by how dominant you were being.

He pulled you tighter to him, rutting his hips up against you, his cock hardening in his pants.  You moaned into his lips and ran your hand up under his shirt, your fingers tracing his abs as you gradually pushed the fabric up.  He rolled you and ran his hand from the top of your boot to the corner of your hip. Neither of you broke the kiss, each just hungrily moving your lips against the other’s.

He slipped his hand down into your shorts and you broke away from him with a gasp and backed away, pushing his hands away from you.  Clint looked at you startled as you drew your legs up against you.  “No, no, no…” you said shaking your head.  “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Clint said, gently backing away from you a little.  “It’s okay.  We can stop.”

“I’m sorry, Clint,” you said, not looking at him.  “I want to.  I want to.  I thought maybe if it was you it’d be okay.”

Clint moved so he was sitting cross-legged opposite you.  “Sugar, it’s fine.  I understand, okay?”

You nodded and started to wring your hands.  “I’m broken.”

“Have you tried with someone else?”  He asked.

You nodded.  “A few times.  I’ve tried getting drunk first.  I’ve tried smoking pot.  I just keep freaking out.”

Clint held out his hand and you took it and moved, curling up so your head was in his lap.  He began to play with your hair.  “We never have to try again if you don’t want to.  We can call this a dumb mistake.”

“Is that how you see it?  A dumb mistake?”  You asked, not looking up at him.

“No,” he said.  “But I think if I keep saying it, I might be able to get myself to believe it.”

You chuckled softly, but there was a slightly hysterical edge to it.  He caressed your cheek.  “If you want though,” he said gently.  “We can just take our time.  I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked up at him.  “What if I can never do it?”  You asked.

“We’ll worry about that if it happens,” he said.  “There’s no rush.  You want to do it, right?”

“Yeah,” you said.  “I really do.”

“And you can touch yourself, right?” he said. “I’ve heard you in the shower before.”

“Clint!”  You yelled and hit him.

“What?  It’s my fault you come so loudly?”  He teased.

You broke down into giggles and he felt himself relax a little.  “You do though, right?”

“Yeah.  Just when it’s anyone else…” You said.

“Then we can take our time.  Make out a lot,” he said.  “I’ll even take you on a date if you want.”

“Oh yeah?”  You teased.  “How are you gonna pay for that?”

He pinched your hip playfully and you squeaked and smacked his thigh.  “How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good,” you agreed, sitting up.

“Good,” he said and pecked your lips.  “It’s you and me, remember?”

You nodded.  “Yeah,” you said, as you started playing with his fingers.  “Hey, Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“You want to make out again?”  You asked.

Clint chuckled and pulled you into his lap.  “I’d love to,” he said and brought his lips to yours.

// NEXT

[shireness-says]

The Set-Up Scam

Summary: They’ve always been friends first and foremost - Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - until suddenly, they’re something a little more too. But with a $600 betting pool on the line about when they’ll actually get together - well, maybe there’s incentive to keep the good news a secret. ~5.5k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3. 

~~~~~

A/N: Merry Christmas, @nevertothethird! I was delighted to be your pair for @cssecretsanta2020. It’s been wonderful chatting with you, and I look forward to a full stalking. ;)

You said you liked secret dating, friends to lovers, and characters being forced to work together - so I, like a fool, tried to include all three. I hope you like the result!

Special thanks, as always, to my beta, @snidgetsafan - the greatest treasure under any tree.

Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @welllpthisishappening, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @thejollyroger-writer, @superchocovian, @teamhook, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @searchingwardrobes, @katie-dub, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

They’re friends, first and foremost. Best friends, really - Killian and Emma, Emma and Killian. Partners in crime and two peas in a pod and every other cliché there is (and Killian would definitely know all of them). It’s been that way since the very beginning, when Killian let her peek at his attendance quiz answers in that awful intro to astronomy class in college. Their relationship had grown from there: late nights in the library and each others’ dorm rooms, studying or watching movies or chatting, all the way through graduation and eventually grad school. They get each other in a way that usually doesn’t happen for Emma, both coming from rough backgrounds and determined to make the world a better place because of it. Hell, they even work together now at Misthaven County Middle School - Killian as an English teacher, and Emma as a guidance counselor. 

And all that time, it’s been strictly platonic. 

It’s not like Emma hasn’t looked. He’s an objectively good looking man, and smart and sweet and funny. But he’d been in some “it’s complicated” situation with a grad student when they’d met, and then Emma was in that weird period where she and Graham gave it a shot, and by the time they were both available… well, by that time, they’d been Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A collective, a pair, absolutely entwined every way but romantically. He’d become her person, and it wasn’t worth risking that. There was no guarantee a romantic relationship would work out, anyways - or that Killian felt the attraction too. 

The thing, though, is that they’re Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Always together, always in each other’s stories, two birds of a feather. People constantly think that they’re together - or should be.

Emma doesn’t really mind, most of the time. She and Killian usually think it’s pretty funny, trading stories back and forth on his or her couch. Where it gets annoying is when each and every one of their friends are determined they should be dating. It’s been years of meaningful looks and hints about “so why aren’t you seeing anyone, Emma?” - but the last straw is the stupid, stupid bet.

“I just don’ unnerstand why you and Killian aren’t a couple!” slurs Mary Margaret, assistant principal and friend, at her yearly end-of-summer bash. “You’re ovviously in loooooooooove.”

“Sure we are, Mary Margaret,” Emma placates. 

“But why haven’t you yet?” she demands. “You made me lose the pool!”

That draws Emma up short. “I’m sorry, what?”

The little pixie-haired brunette frowns. “Don’t you know? We’ve had a betting pool going for ages about when you’d get together this year. I thought for sure it’d be the Fourth of July.”

It’s a good guess, actually - Ruby throws a famously boozy bash every year at her grandmother’s diner, conveniently situated right below the inn. It’d make sense for them to get drunk and take things upstairs - except for the fact that none of this is rooted in sense in any way, shape, or form.

“That obviously didn’t happen,” Mary Margaret frowns sorrowfully, staring down into her plastic cup full of god-knows-what. It doesn’t last long, though, as she perks right back up. “But they let me make a new guess! I’ve got my money on the Friday after your birthday.”

“How much money are we talking here?” Emma can’t help but ask. It’s like a compulsion, one she doesn’t like or understand. 

“Five hundred and fifty dollars.” At least that’s what she thinks Mary Margaret says; the slurring gets particularly bad on the f-sounds. It’s an astounding sum. Truly stupid.

Kind of tempting.

“And everyone bet that it would happen this year?” she makes sure to clarify.

“Yup!” Mary Margaret pops the p-sound and then giggles to herself about the noise. 

“Then I’m putting fifty dollars on it not happening this year. That Killian and I won’t get together.”

———

She means it at the time, too. Because yeah, there’s sometimes that niggling little what if?, but they’ve known each other for eight years. Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. It’s not going to happen - honestly she’s not even sure she would want it to.

Until. 

It’s not the Friday after her birthday, when they’re all going to hit the bar, but it’s the night before her birthday - a Tuesday. Killian comes over to grade vocab quizzes and eat greasy pizza, and stays to drink beer and watch stupid baking shows with her on the couch. Honestly, in so many ways, it’s a night like any other: two friends, just enjoying each other’s company.

Until.

Maybe it’s the beers. Maybe something’s been building for longer than she ever thought. Maybe it’s just that they’re both feeling good and, well, it is her birthday. But Killian kisses her - or she kisses Killian - they kiss each other and it’s like something slots into place. Like of course this was going to happen - they were just waiting for the perfect moment. It makes sense, in a way that Emma hasn’t let herself think about; he’s the person she trusts most, the best man she knows, probably the most important person in her life. Her best friend - and, probably, something more.

“That was…” he gasps, some indeterminable amount of time later. Somehow, he’s wound up on top of her on the couch - not that she’s complaining.

“Only the beginning,” Emma completes, smirking in a way she definitely picked up from him. 

Now that this has started, she has no intention of stopping. 

———

“Ok, don’t kill me - or, like, run away immediately - but I need a favor. A huge one,” Emma says much later, both of them naked and sated beneath her sheets.

Killian laughs beside her, peering up from the pillows with a smile. “After that, darling, I’m predisposed to give you just about anything you want.”

“And I’ll give it to you again,” she quips back, mostly to make him keep laughing. It works. “But seriously. Did you know that everyone’s got a bet going on us?”

That pops his head up. “I’m sorry, a bet? I… What? Who?”

“Seems like pretty much everyone. Ruby, Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Belle… I could go on and on. A six hundred dollar pool on when we get together.”

“Typical,” Killian mutters - though Emma catches a fond note in his tone. “Who’s the lucky winner, then?”

“Ok, this is where the favor comes in.” Hopefully this isn’t a breaking point for him; Emma would hate to have this taste of them, only to have it ripped away from her. “See, Mary Margaret told me about this when she got trashed at the back to school party, and I’d had a few too and was all hopped up on righteous fury or whatever, and I kind of… put fifty dollars in the pot that we wouldn’t get together this year at all.”

Killian stares at her for a moment, and Emma’s frankly scared that he’s going to get out of bed and go - but instead, he bursts into a near-hysterical cackle. “So you want to keep this a secret until the new year, so you can win the pot?”

Emma grins, knowing she must look like the cat that ate the canary (or however that weird-ass saying goes - again, English is Killian’s thing). “Exactly. We could spend it on a weekend getaway or something.”

“I’m in, then. Under the radar.”

“It’s just two months and change,” Emma says. “It’ll speed by. How hard can it be?”

———

Turns out - their friends are determined to make it as hard as possible. Even if they don’t know it.

Things are fine, at first. In fact, nothing really changes: Emma and Killian still show up at each others’ doors most nights, and Killian comes to hang out and grade papers in her office during his free periods most days. It’s just that their evenings are now filled with kisses and touches, and those afternoons in her office with all kinds of promises of things to come. It’s thrilling, in a way, to put on the front of normality for everyone else while only they know the truth. It’s nice, too, to be able to get their feet underneath them in this relationship without so many prying eyes watching them figure it all out. 

Just because they don’t know, though, doesn’t mean their friends stop trying. There’s a bet on the line, after all, and their friends have never exactly been ones to step back and let things naturally run their course. Not for those busybodies; not with six hundred dollars and Emma and Killian’s supposed happiness on the line.

(The fact that they’re right - that the two of them really are happiest together - is irrelevant.)

David, of all people, is the first to start meddling.

“Do you guys want to get dinner?” he asks out of the blue one day - calls Emma up on her phone and everything. “You and Killian and me and Mary Margaret, I mean.”

Emma’s antenna raises immediately. “What, like a double date? C’mon, David —”

“No! No,” he says hastily - a little too hastily, Emma thinks. “No, a cousin of mine - Kris, you’ve met him - he’s opening up his own restaurant. Some place with Scandinavian food, I guess?”

“That’s actually a thing?” 

“I guess. I don’t know, he studied abroad in Norway in college. Anyways, he could use a little business, support or whatever, so Mary Margaret and I figured we’d bring some extra people along. You know, help him out. And maybe Scandinavian food is good after all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The line sits silent for a moment, before David breaks. “So… you in?”

And as much as Emma suspects this is all some elaborate set-up - well, it’s supposed to be to help someone else. David’s cousin, who she has in fact met and is really a good guy. And so she reluctantly agrees. “Yeah, I’m in. One of us will have to check with Killian if he’s available —”

“What, he’s not right there with you?”

(He is, his lips kiss-swollen and pulled into a delicious smirk, but that’s not the point and none of David’s business.)

“ — but yeah, I’m down.”

In the week between the call and the dinner, Emma actually finds herself starting to look forward to it. Yeah, it won’t be a real date - not with David and Mary Margaret there - but it’s still a chance to wear a pretty dress that’ll make Killian’s eyes bug a little. She’ll have to pick something he’ll have fun taking off of her later, once they’ve pretended to go back to their own homes. 

Emma’s just pulling into the parking lot, however, when her phone rings, David’s name popping up on the screen. 

“We’re not going to make it tonight,” he says without preamble, followed by the most fake-ass cough Emma’s ever heard in her life. “We’re sick.”

“Yeah, sick off your own lies,” Emma mutters. “Alright, well, I guess we’ll go another time —”

“Oh no, I insist you guys still have dinner. You and Killian deserve to have a night off!”

“David, c’mon, don’t play dumb —”

He ignores her. “Besides, you’ll be doing me - and Kris - a huge favor. I already told him to charge whatever you guys get to me. Splurge a little, have dessert and a bottle of wine. It’s all on me.”

Killian climbs out of his own car as David pleads his case, cocking his head in confusion at the no doubt frustrated look on Emma’s face. He looks like he wants to kiss it better; Emma wishes he could actually do so.

“Fine,” she caves. “If you’re sure. But I’m running up the bill.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise.”

Emma takes particular glee in ending the call. She should have seen this coming. “Looks like David has come down with a possibly fatal cough, so he and Mary Margaret aren’t coming tonight,” she tells Killian, rolling her eyes. No need to resist that particular urge.

He snorts. “Ah, liar-itis. I thought he might be coming down with a case.”

“Complicated by meddler’s cough. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course not.” He dips down to capture her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss - another urge they don’t have to resist with none of their friends around to see it. “You look lovely tonight, Swan.”

She smirks back. “I know.”

“Of course you do,” he laughs. “I’m sure you wore that just to torment me through dinner. Now, shall we?”

“We shall.” Emma slips her hand through his offered arm. “Dinner’s on David, by the way.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

———

“So, how was dinner?” David asks the next day, his cough mysteriously cleared up. 

“Good,” Emma replies, knowing exactly what he’s digging for. “Your cousin’s got a good lingonberry cheesecake. Don’t worry, Killian and I totally ran up the bill. Kris has been well supported. You’re welcome.”

“And?” he demands.

Emma makes sure to play up her confusion. “And… what? It was a great dinner, might even go back if I ever have a date, and then I went home. Honestly, what did you expect to happen, David?”

Even through the phone, she can almost hear him audibly deflate. Something like a sigh, or perhaps the sound of his entire plan collapsing in on itself. Personally, Emma thinks it’s hilarious.

(It’s especially funny when she vividly remembers the way Killian had stripped her out of that dress, can still feel the scratch of his beard on her inner thighs.)

(But again - those are things that David doesn’t need to know.)

———

The set-ups multiply like rabbits, and Emma starts to notice her and Killian being forced into more and more situations together, just the two of them. Fuck only knows why they think these clumsy attempts will work; after all, Emma and Killian held out for 8 years of each other’s company before finally getting together (without anyone’s help, she might add). Still, 

Trivia night is a weekly tradition for them all, down at the Rabbit Hole. Some weeks, the turnout is good; sometimes, not so much. They usually meet up at someone’s house and carpool from there because there’s not a ton of parking spots outside the bar, and it’s always worked well - two, maybe three cars instead of a half dozen or more. It’s a good time, and Emma always finds herself looking forward to Thursdays. 

Tonight, they’ve met at Robin’s, Killian’s former roommate. It’s a good crowd tonight, too - Robin and his fiance Marian, Mary Margaret with David, Belle the librarian, Ruby and Mulan, even Graham and Lance and Tink. The gang’s all here, probably trying to let loose a bit before holiday obligations set in, and they’re raring to go - all twelve of them.

Emma hopes that it’s not planned - that there just happen to be two cars and then some worth of people here - but it’s more likely planned. Robin probably twisted their arms to come, just for this.

“Emma, would you mind checking the door one more time?” he calls as they congregate in the driveway. “I’m sure I locked it, but I’ve just got that niggling little feeling…”

“Sure, no problem.” And it isn’t - it’s checking the damn door. Except it’s actually winding down his stupidly picturesque front garden path to the front door, and then having to maneuver around the always-unlocked outer glass door to make sure that the real door is locked, and then maneuvering and winding and everything back… and by the time Emma makes it back, everyone’s already piled into Mary Margaret’s station wagon and Robin’s little SUV, even the middle seats everyone usually hates, leaving just the conniving man himself and Killian standing on the asphalt. 

“Sorry, looks like the two of you will be riding together,” Robin says, not seeming remotely sorry. “This is convenient anyways! I know how much time you two spend together, if you decide that it’s easier to crash together afterwards… it wouldn’t be a problem for the extra car to stay here overnight.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” Emma grumbles. “I don’t suppose you have any underlying motive here, do you Robin? Say, to the tune of six hundred dollars?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he responds cheerily. “I just really, really want you to know that you can keep your options open. And, you know, other euphemistic things if the urge moves you.”

Asshole.

(Emma does not leave her car at Robin’s overnight - but that doesn’t stop Killian from meeting her at her place afterwards.

“This euphemistic enough for you, love?” he teases as Emma pulls at his shirt, trying to tug the cotton tee over his head.

“How’s this for a euphemism: fuck me.”

“That’s not exactly how that word works, Swan.”

“I could not possibly give fewer shits about semantics than I do right now, Killian, unless it somehow relates to you getting your pants off.”

Somehow, even in the midst of their frantic stripping, he manages to laugh. “As you wish.”

She’s always preferred straight talking anyways.)

———

“Thank god I found you both!” Mary Margaret declares, bursting into Emma’s office a little too dramatically for her tastes. Until now, she and Killian had been having a wonderful lunch together, but that’s obviously a thing of the past now. 

“That seems a little extreme for a Friday,” Killian comments mildly as he sets his cafeteria burger back down on the styrofoam tray. Personally, Emma thinks the cafeteria food is disgusting, but Killian’s got a real fondness for the cheeseburgers, and especially the french fries. No one’s perfect, she guesses. “What terrible impending tragedy can Emma or I save you from, Mary Margaret?”

“Kathryn’s father is in the hospital, so she and Fred can’t work their assigned booth at the Winter Carnival tomorrow.” Storybrooke County School District’s charity carnival is a tradition every winter - one Mary Margaret takes very seriously. Something that’s clearly about to come back and bite them all in the ass. “Would you two be able to cover tomorrow? You’d be doing me such a huge favor…”

Killian raises a single eyebrow as he turns to meet Emma’s eye - that eyebrow that always seems like a dare. “My schedule’s clear this weekend. Count me in. What do you say, Swan, think you can find room in your schedule to save Mary Margaret from the tragedy of all tragedies?”

Emma rolls her eyes at the way he’s putting it on thick, but truth be told, her only plans had been spending the day with Killian. Might as well. “Sure, what the hell,” she says, reaching for another bite of her microwave pizza. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

In retrospect, Emma realizes that Mary Margaret could have done something terrible with this - assigned them to the kissing booth or something. God, she hopes that there’s not a kissing booth at a middle school carnival, but it feels like just the kind of thing she’d pull. Thankfully, they’re set up at the ring toss game. It’s not strenuous in the least; they don’t even have to take money, just paper tickets. Really, the only questionable thing is that they’re crammed right together in the box formed between the booth walls and the counter and the table of bottles behind them. Maybe that’s something that would have bothered her a few weeks ago, back when they were Emma and Killian but not Emma and Killian. Now, it’s just an excuse to get right up in his space and enjoy all those little touches, right under everyone’s nose.

(Maybe, every time they have to duck under the counter to retrieve poorly-thrown rings, Killian takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss while no one else can see. And maybe - just maybe - Emma uses those same opportunities to steal her own kisses right back.)

“Soooooo, how’s it going?” Mary Margaret chirps when she pops up out of nowhere mid-afternoon. It’s like she thinks she’ll find them making out in the middle of the carnival or something. Which… fair. The urge is there. But they’re professionals - and Emma wants that money, dammit. She’s not caving here.

“Just fine, Mare,” Emma replies. “Nothing worth reporting.”

“There’s not? You two are looking awfully cozy in there… nothing to report?”

“Well, you’re the one who set up the booths, so…”

“Aye, just making the best of it,” Killian helpfully adds.

Emma almost feels guilty about the way that Mary Margaret visibly deflates.

“You know this was another ridiculous set-up, right, love?” Killian asks once their friend has walked away. “She probably never even needed our help. It was all a ploy.”

“I see it now,” Emma sighs. “I had just weirdly hoped she’d be above all that bullshit.”

Killian quirks that eyebrow yet again. “Mary Margaret? Infamous meddler? Of course not. It’s cute that you thought that though, darling.”

“Oh, shut up.”

(“Mary Margaret told me to take the weekend off, that they’d over-scheduled,” Kathryn tells Emma later when she tries to ask how the other woman’s father is doing. “Was that not the case?”)

(Fucking figures.)

———

Ruby, frankly, is not a surprise. In fact, if there was one person Emma would figure would be pulling this bullshit, it’s Ruby. The girl’s too competitive for her own damn good - not to mention that mile-wide chaotic streak running through her soul.

“Pucker up!” she crows, thrusting what Emma assumes is a sprig of mistletoe over her and Killian’s heads. They’re at Ruby and Mulan’s place for… some party; it’s probably, maybe holiday themed, but Ruby’s never needed an excuse to throw a party. Anything to get them all drunk and laughing and forgetting about the stresses of the week.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma demands. “Ruby, don’t be stupid. This isn’t college anymore.”

“Oh, like we ever did this in college,” Ruby scoffs with that devious twinkle in her eye. “Besides, college shenanigans are a state of mind. And I’m not giving that up. Now c’mon, no weaseling out of this.”

“It is the rules,” Mulan points out, appearing to slip her arm around Ruby’s waist and drop an affectionate - if slightly tipsy - kiss on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you hear that? Smart half says it’s the rules. So go ahead and pucker up and kiss him. And then go make out for a while and maybe bone each other so I can win the pool.”

Killian blushes a little bit at the phrasing - something that’s surprisingly cute on him, knowing how often he usually tosses around the innuendoes and exactly how dirty a mouth he has when they’re alone. Before Emma knows what he’s doing, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then another, smacking one for good measure. “Who are we to deny the great, determined Ruby Lucas?” he proclaims grandly. “One kiss: delivered.”

Ruby’s face gets a bit mutinous; it’s the only word for that particular storm cloud, really. “No it isn’t! That’s cheating!”

“Eh. Technically, it was a kiss.” God bless Mulan for being the only one willing to go against Ruby when she’s got a plan; perks of being the girlfriend, Emma supposes. 

“And more importantly, Rubes, that’s all you’re going to get from us.” And that’s Emma’s last word on the subject.

(“Happy Christmas, darling,” Killian whispers into her neck later once they’re back at her place, dangling his own sprig of mistletoe over their heads. “How about it? C’mon, give us a kiss.”

Emma is more than happy to comply.)

———

Emma wouldn’t say it’s common for her to get calls from the school librarian, Belle, but it’s not unusual either. So when Belle calls her up in mid-December, shortly before Christmas break, Emma doesn’t think twice about it.

“The new Scholastic catalogs are here,” Belle informs her. “I haven’t started sending them to classrooms yet, but if you want to take a look now…”

“I’ll be right there.” Yes, the catalogs are full of books for middle school students, but Emma still loves those things. They’re chock-full of nostalgia.

“I haven’t even taken them out of the box yet,” Belle explains when Emma meets her at the check-out desk. “They’re all still in the back room. Here, I’ll let you in.”

That should have been Emma’s clue here. Why would a box of new catalogs, just arrived in the mail, already be shoved into the storage closet? But Emma’s too excited about the prospect of those newsprint magazines to think about it. By the time Emma realizes there’s nothing in this little closet but printer paper and old yearbooks… Belle’s already closed and locked the door, trapping Emma inside. 

So it’s yet another set up, most likely. It’s a good thing she’s not claustrophobic, at least.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Emma can hear Killian’s voice outside the door. 

“How many boxes did you say it was, Belle? I’m happy to help haul, but I’m just wondering if we should get a hand cart to assist.”

“Oh no, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Belle’s voice responds. “Just a few trips for each of us. Right in here…”

And suddenly, Killian’s in the cramped little closet too, and the door is shut and latched behind them. Gee, what a surprise.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emma comments dryly. Somehow, probably on some kind of ridiculous romantic instinct, Killian’s hands have already found their way to her hips. It’s nice, really, ignoring the circumstances.

His face is adorably confused, looking around the room and back to the door and then to Emma’s own face and all over again. “Did she just lock us in here?”

“Yeah, keep up, Jones,” Emma teases. “I assume another stupid set-up effort.”

That makes the confusion disperse alright, a smirk full of promise creeping across his face instead. “If that’s the case… we’ll just have to make the most of it.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she warns. “There’s a camera in here.”

“So? It’s not like she’s watching the monitors.”

“So, Belle recently started dating Will Scarlet in IT. You want to take the chance she locked us in here, and forgot to have her boyfriend monitor us?”

“Fuck,” Killian swears, dropping his head back in dramatic emphasis. “They’re really going overboard, aren’t they?”

“I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

Thirty minutes later, when Emma and Killian have done nothing but talk and try to find some little extra space in the crowded closet, Belle finally lets them out, just in time for the end of Killian’s free period.

“I’m sure you have no idea how that happened,” he comments, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“It’s just the weirdest thing,” Belle agrees.

Well, that’s one way of putting it.

(Emma makes it up to him, several times over, at her place that night, with a take-out pizza to boot.)

———

After what feels like an eternity, it’s finally here: New Year’s Eve. As long as they make it to midnight and the new year proper without anyone finding out, this whole ridiculous farce is over, and they can be the couple they’ve technically already been since October. Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - but more than they had been before. 

They’d spent Christmas together - not that that was anything unusual. With everyone else going to visit family, the two of them often spend the day together, eating take-out Chinese and watching holiday movies. Killian’s got a brother back in England that he makes sure to call, and some years Liam will fly over, but Killian usually saves his visits for summer vacation, when he can stay in whatever little English hamlet his brother calls home for weeks at a time. There’s always something nice about spending the holidays together, just the two of them, but it was extra special this year. Who knew Emma was the kind of girl who wanted to trade kisses under the Christmas tree between swapping gifts?

(Killian, apparently - but then again, he’s always claimed to know her better than she knows herself.)

“Just a few more hours,” he murmurs against her neck, twining his arms about her waist from behind as Emma carefully brushes on mascara. “Few more hours, and then it’s all in the open.”

“Thank god for that, too. After all the PDA we’ve gotten from certain people all these years, I’m looking forward to rubbing it in their faces a bit.”

They carpool to Mary Margaret and David’s, just like they do every year. It’s routine, really; Emma always crashes at Killian’s after the annual New Year’s Eve party so that someone is there to help her with the hangover in the morning. Killian makes better hashbrowns than anyone she knows - even Granny - and they always manage to pull her out of the worst of her misery. He’s good about taking care of her, too, with water and Advil and making sure to shut all the shades as tightly as possible. They even share a bed a lot of years; it’s just that tonight, Emma knows there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.

They drink. They eat. They mingle. Sometimes, they’re together, carefully not touching, and sometimes they drift apart. That’s how this party usually works, after all - and Emma is nothing if not committed to seeing this entire thing through, pretending nothing is different this year, that she and Killian definitely aren’t together. Nothing to see here, folks.

God, she’s so fucking lucky he didn’t cut and run once it became obvious just how much of a competitive lunatic Emma is.

Finally, though, it’s the moment - less than a minute left. Killian is already waiting for her by the patio doors, just like he promised. Emma is only too happy to wind her way over there, grinning when she finally finds herself in front of her boyfriend - about to be secret no longer. Behind them, the assembled drunken crowd loudly counts down the last seconds of the year. They keep their hands determinedly to themselves - just as agreed, so no one can try and claim anything happened before the strike of the new year - but Killian still looks at her with that twinkle in his eyes and wiggling eyebrows. It’s anticipation, and excitement, and a good bit of joy - knowing that soon, this will all be out in the open. No more keeping their hands to themselves. 

“You ready for this, love?” he says just loud enough for her to hear as the clock hits ten seconds. 

“Hell yeah,” she grins back - because she is. She so is. This has been a long time coming - years in the making, really - and you know what? The whole secrecy may have helped her wrap her head around the whole thing, as well as win her the pot, but she’s ready to take it public. Maybe rub it in everyone’s faces just how happy she is and how she did this on her own schedule. Why the hell not?

Cheers erupt all around them, and Emma’s grin stretches to something that almost hurts her face. Killian looks much the same. “Happy New Year, love,” he says, finally pulling her towards him by the hips. “I think it’ll be our best one yet.”

Fireworks are going on outside, lighting up the snow on the ground, but Emma can’t be bothered to pay attention - not when Killian attacks her lips with purpose, grinning happily into the kiss before she insistently deepens it, slipping her tongue into his mouth to play. It’s just another in a series of kisses, they know - but it’s more than that. It’s a display, in the best way, declaring them them.

Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A pair, a unit, a couple. 

“HA!” shrieks someone across the room as their make-out finally gains attention. Emma thinks it might be Ruby - though, at this point, it might be Mary Margaret. Maybe both. It’s definitely Ruby who materializes just as Emma and Killian finally break apart with a laugh. “It’s about fucking time!”

“Yeah,” Emma agrees - something that seems to short-circuit Ruby’s brain for a moment, if that look on her face is anything to go by. “It really was. And you know what else?”

Ruby shakes her head mutely, that twist of her eyebrows demonstrating that she’s still trying to get her bearings about what the fuck is happening here.

“It’s the new year. That pot is mine.”

“That’s my girl,” Killian whispers in her ear.

Best. New Year’s. Ever.

———

On January 1st of the new year, Emma and Killian - Killian and Emma - they, them, a pair, a unit, a couple take their six hundred dollars in winnings and treat themselves to a goddamn massive lunch at Granny’s. Together. In public. Because they deserve it. 

Grilled cheese has never tasted so good to Emma - especially the crumbs off the corners of Killian’s lips. 

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Your mess is mine

Sue may only be a math major, but she knows this much about telling a story: it needs to have a beginning, middle, and an end.  

If she were to sit down and write one, here is where it would start — Emily laughs and she falls in love. It doesn’t matter the year, the month, or the minute; when Emily laughs, she falls in love. Sue’s a little slow when these things are concerned, love doesn’t come to her as quickly or as easily as it has historically come to Emily. I saw you in the coffee shop and I knew you were the one, she’s fond of telling Sue, usually during fights. It’s highly annoying that Emily thinks it’d work on her. Even more annoying is the fact that it does. 

Alright, does she have moments of intense déjà vu sometimes? Like when they’re lying in bed, after one of Austin’s house parties, and Sue curls up into Emily’s soft shoulders, plays with her pretty, pretty hands? Or when she catches Emily conked out in front of her laptop in a corner table at the café on her break and gently wakes her up? Sure. But isn’t that what love is? The same five gestures repeated in infinite ways, creating a well of infinite affection. So if walking the steps with Emily settles deep into her bones without flinching, as if they’ve done this before, she’s convinced that it’s because they’re well and truly perfect together. 

(Definitely not because — and this is something that has been occurring to her more and more lately — they were star-crossed lovers in a past life a century ago.) 

(That would be crazy.) 

(Right?) 

***** 

Falling in love aside, Emily can be really, infuriatingly, secretive about the worst of things. Sometimes it is charming, watching her having to pick her way through multiple explanations, create long-winded detours just to attempt to confuse Sue into getting exasperated enough to drop the subject altogether. But that’s at the very end, when it turns out that she was going to all this trouble to make sure Sue wasn’t going to find out she’d gotten her that one Hawaiian shirt Sue had off-handedly admired once, aeons ago. Or that she’s been holed up in their room all day because she’s been setting up lights in honor of it being exactly six months since they first hugged. Which is why she is more resigned that surprised when Lavinia sits down in front of her, leans in, and asks her what she’s doing for Emily’s birthday next week. 

Sue sneaks a look at Emily who is currently chatting with an old lady who usually comes in on the weekends. Her girlfriend happens to be one of those baristas who is beloved by the elderly, God only knows why. All the older ladies will hang back at the counter and tell her all about their grandkids’ schools and ballet recitals. In return, Emily will rant to them about college and apparently, Sue as well, which was something she discovered one day when she walked in and two old ladies gave her teasing yet approving smiles from their table. 

(And then took her aside to whisper — Showing a little skin wouldn’t do any harm and would keep your girl on her toes — which near about killed her)  

The entire situation is hilarious. Also the most adorable thing she has ever seen. 

“Why haven’t you guys discussed your birthdays yet?” 

“It’s just never,” Sue muses, “come up, I guess.” 

Austin rollerblades past, swivels to a stop and bends so he’s approximately level with their faces. “Are we talking about,” he says, lowering his voice to a comical whisper, “Emily’s birthday?” 

Lavinia pulls him down, so he’s sitting on the spare chair. “And Sue’s, apparently. Did you know her birthday falls, like, nine days after Emily’s?” 

Austin stares at her, wide-eyed. “That means it’s on the.... 19th? 

Sue nods. 

“The 19th of December? After Emily’s birthday, on the 10th of December?” 

“Y....es?” 

He swipes at his phone, taps a couple of buttons, and then looks up with a smug smile. “I knew I remembered something. Look.” 

Lavinia has to angle her whole body to see, but it registers for both of them at the same time. A certain poet and her muse, who also apparently shared the same birthday as her and Emily. 

“Huh,” Lavinia says. “Maybe there is something to Emily’s theory after all.” 

“You mean Emily’s theory that we’re the reincarnations of those two?” she asks, hearing her own voice get progressively more hysterical by the word. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, adds it to the list of rapidly growing coincidences in her head that she’s never going to give a closer look to, because that would be crazy. 

“Really the only part of this I’m genuinely shocked by,” Lavinia says after a long pause, in which Sue is struggling to reason with the logical part of her brain, “is that Austin remembers Emily Dickinson’s birthday.” 

Austin smiles proudly, and the thought is so funny that it drives potential insanity out of her mind eventually. 

***** 

“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday’s tomorrow?” 

Emily startles from where she’s staring out the window of the car, and Sue has about a moment to regret blurting it out before they’re looking at each other. She’d spent the entire week setting up the entire thing for Emily and now it probably won’t even be a surprise, but she’s insanely curious. No better time for it, either way. She’d planned everything perfectly, from picking up Emily at the café in the classy car she’d borrowed from Austin, to making sure it wasn’t too late after dinner. And yet, here they were, surrounded by cars and honking people because traffic was a fickle bitch. 

“Is that why we’re taking this trip?” she asks, wide-eyed. 

Sue extends a hand towards her, ruffles up her hair, feeling fond. Trust her idiot girlfriend to not have figured it out yet. She moves her hand to Emily’s cheek, and feels Emily cover it with her own. Feels a soft kiss pressed against her palm. 

“What did you think it was, dumdum?” 

“Well, it is the three month anniversary of—” Sue’s alarm is probably showing on her face, so she backtracks quickly. “Kidding. Kidding. There’s nothing tomorrow.” 

Sue pinches at her cheek. “Except your birthday. Speaking of which—” 

“Eh,” Emily shakes her head, shuffles around on her seat awkwardly, “it’s.... uh, complicated.” 

“Is the complication that you happen to share a birthday with a poet from long ago?” she’s only half-joking.  

Emily laughs at that. “Caught on, did you? Did you also check—” 

“E-yup.” 

“That your birthday is also—” 

“E-yup,” she says. Then turns to look at Emily. “Wait. How do you know when my birthday is?” 

Emily opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Sue hurriedly cuts in. “And you’re not allowed to say you have your ways.” 

Years ago, when Sue was fourteen, one day her dad and her mom came home with the same vegetable. Same quantity. It was beans, and she could vividly remember all three of them staring down in mock dismay at the two separate huge bundles of beans that now took up most of the space on the table. Then they started comparing prices. Turns out her mother’s bundle had cost a couple cents lesser than her father’s. But it’s not the same , her mother had insisted, holding up both the bundles. See, yours weighs more. I think the grocer I bought it from took some off . 

To this day, she defines love as the way her mother’s hand fell over his, combined with the way her dad looked at her next — like a child who had just been told that the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing, wasn’t going to be torn down. Like someone had just handed a piece of the world to him, and told him to make of it whatever he wanted.  

Sue recognizes it in the way Emily looks at her. Like she’s saying — Of course. Of course, you know me well enough to guess the next stupid thing that comes out of her mouth. 

(She’s not very good at love, but she hopes Emily can read the answer in her eyes just the same) 

“Birthdays are complicated,” Emily says, slowly. “I’ve had some very good ones and then some very bad ones.” First girlfriend who she asked out on her 20th birthday, and second girlfriend who she broke up with a week before her 23rd; Sue fills in the blanks as she talks. “So I guess I try not to tell people so I myself don’t expect anything out of it. Neutral birthdays are better than euphoric ones or sad ones, because at least they don’t haunt me forever.” 

“Baby,” she says, and then trails off. Sometimes she likes calling Emily endearments, or just say her name out loud, randomly, even if there’s no statement attached to it. The sentiment’s always the same, however. I’m glad you exist. I’m glad you found me. I like your name. I love you.  

(Emily’s fallen asleep by the time she’s driven to the top of the grassy knoll, by the time the clock hits midnight. Sue lets her sleep through it. There will be time to sit on top of the blanket and watch a sleepy Emily blow out the candles on a tiny cake that looks like a typewriter, to stare at the stars all night long while they listen to soft, slow songs on a pair of shared earphones. For now, Sue watches Emily sleep, head tilted against the glass and decides to hold off on telling her she loves her until the day after her birthday. It’s a perfectly neutral birthday. No use in spoiling it.) 

(Emily says it back though, in case anyone was wondering) 

***** 

Sometimes, when Sue sees Emily cooking for her, she loses her breath. 

(And sometimes, it’s not even due to the smoke from a burned dish) 

But there’s something peaceful about watching Emily cook, especially if she hasn’t yet cottoned onto the fact that Sue’s watching her. She’s one of those annoying people who always has their headphones on, so most of her cooking in the kitchen involves perfectly timing the beats with the swipes of her spatula. Sometimes she spins around in the middle of a pancake flip to see if she can catch it in midair. Juvenile shenanigans aside, what really gets Sue, even after almost a year of having watched Emily dance around in the kitchen is the care with which she handles food that they will eat. It’s so different to the kind of food she cooks when she’s just cooking for herself. Sue’s seen her slap on two days expired cheese on top of a tortilla and call it lunch. And yet. 

And yet. Sue will have the best of things. Lasagna that’s still steaming. A sandwich filled with the most delicious ingredients. Waffles topped with cream that Emily will get up early in the morning to get for her. Food enhanced with care, made better with love. 

Why don’t you make those nice things for yourself, she’s asked on multiple occasions, to which Emily’s always shrugged. It’s just me. I can have almost anything. 

(Emily deserves the best. Sue will make sure she has it) 

There are flowers on the table, an assortment of daffodils and lilies arranged on a vase. Right in between two shiny plates laid out with napkins folded carefully beside them. Sue slides into one of the chairs quietly, rests her elbows on the table and waits for Emily to finally turn around. 

There is a panicked scream when she does. Sue doesn’t want to be that girlfriend, but this is definitely going on the list of stories she’ll tell their future kids when they’ve grown. 

(Another day she would worry about how the term — Their kids — moves around in her chest comfortably like a sip of hot cocoa. Today, exactly one year to the day Emily told her she liked her, she shrugs it off) 

“You weren’t supposed to wake up for another half an hour at least.” 

Sue hums. “You did tire me out last night, that is true.” 

“Sue!” Emily says, scandalized, face rapidly turning red. “I — that’s highly — okay wait, first things first....” 

She walks over to the table, and bends to kiss Sue.  

“Happy anniversary.” 

Sue closes her eyes, kisses both her cheeks in response. “Happy anniversary, my love.” 

Emily grins back, then stands again. “Either way,” she says, as she ladles soup onto a bowl, and gathers multiple plates on a tray to subsequently bring to the table, “brunch! Courtesy of your beautiful girlfriend who finally managed to figure out how to make the perfect chicken pot pie without burning down the house, or worse, giving you salmonella.” 

Sue inspects what lies in front of her. “Babe, this looks amazing.” 

Emily looks proud, as she sits on the other chair. “And that’s not all, okay? This is just the start. Today evening I have gotten us both tickets to—” 

“Move in with me.” 

When Emily blinks, Sue startles. The words that had just come out of her mouth definitely weren’t well-thought-out, but now she was thinking about it and it seemed like all she ever wanted in life. To go to sleep with Emily, and wake her up in time for her morning classes, to be able to see her all the time, and not have to watch her go. 

“That wasn’t my gift, by the way,” she adds, speaking fast, thinking of the limited-edition original copies of a book she’d driven five hours to the next town to get. “But it’s what I want. Us. Living together. I love you. We should.... uh, live together so — uh, okay Emily make me stop talking please.” 

Emily shuts her up with a kiss. When they separate, she stays close to Sue, looking right into her eyes with that soft, soft expression.  

“Are you sure?” she asks. 

Sue takes in a deep breath. Nods. “Yeah.” 

Emily considers that for a moment. Then says with a teasing smile — “I thought this violated your relationship rules.” 

“What ae you—” 

“No kissing before the second date. No celebrating six-month anniversaries because that’s for dummies. No moving in before at least two years of dating—” 

“And if you remember correctly,” Sue cuts in, smoothly, “I kissed you two days before our first date. And serenaded you with a Taylor Swift song at the café on our six-month anniversary.” 

“You did do that,” Emily says, quietly. 

“And as long as we’re on the subject, I hate staying up past 11, or listening to sad girl music in the car, or watching that horrendous show about those two annoying men fake-dating,” Sue tells her, “but — it is my greatest honor that I get to do that for you. And with you. Emily, if you haven’t figured it out already, you’re kinda the exception to every single one of my rules.” 

Sue reads Emily’s answer in the kiss she receives next. 

***** 

The middle, the middle, everything boils down to the middle. It’s what Sue sometimes hears Emily muttering to herself in the middle of the night when she has an assignment due the next day. Sue will blink, look over to the desk where Emily is planted with her nightlight on, hands in her hair. Sometimes Sue will keep blinking slowly, taking in the sight of Emily typing until she falls asleep. Sometimes Emily will notice that she’s up, walk over to the bed, and hum snippets of songs until she’s drifting off again.  

And for all the beauty of the beginning, of first kisses and first dates and first times, there’s something to be said about the fifteenth time Emily plays her something on the ukulele, warning her beforehand that her voice might crack. Or the sixtieth burger she runs across the campus to hand over to Emily when she knows she’s got back-to-back classes scheduled. About the hundredth time she falls into bed, and scooches over, eyes closed, until Emily’s wriggling body is aligned against hers. There’s peace in knowing that a first time will inevitably lead to a second time, and then countless others.  

(There’s peace in knowing the middle lasts the longest)   

***** 

She knows she’s in trouble. Has known she’s in trouble the minute she came out of the store and discovered that there was a pileup on the highway. And then when Lavinia called her panicking because their house-warming slash house party was getting out of control because of a lack of beer and a general overabundance of Austin. And then when her phone died in the middle of her conversation with Emily.  

(So much trouble) 

She’s exhausted by the time she makes it back to her apartment (their apartment , she corrects herself, smiling at the thought) and makes her way up the stairs, hearing the volume of the music increase with every step. Opens the door and is assailed with extremes — the tiny sparkling mirror ball someone’s managed to hook up to the ceiling, the dancing crowd in their living room, and a very loud and weirdly on-point Austin making guitar noises on the karaoke microphone. 

“Lavinia!” Sue calls out in relief, when she catches sight of her. “Where’s Emily?” 

Lavinia excuses herself from a group of frat boys hanging onto her every word and walks over. “Sue! Emily!” 

“Yeah, I know! Tell me where she is!” 

Sue points towards the ceiling, and in the same smooth motion, grabs the crate of beer from her hands. 

Sue’s out of there before the first cry of “Beer” permeates the air. She climbs another two floors, and then the metallic ladder to find Emily sitting there, wrapped in her blanket, glaring up at her. 

“You promised,” she says, flatly. 

Sue drops onto her knees and takes Emily’s cold hands in hers. “I know.” 

“No, you,” Emily repeats, then pauses, looking like she’s struggling, “you promised you were gonna be here, okay? I agreed to the housewarming thing only because you told me there wouldn’t be many people and you’d stay with me the whole time—” 

“—baby....” 

“No, don’t baby me. Let me finish.” Emily waits until Sue nods. “And then you went off to the store.” 

“We ran out of beer,” Sue says, feeling sheepish. 

“I know — I know that, okay?” Emily says. “I know there’s a reason, and probably a valid one but I’m mad, okay? You promised me something and then bailed. That’s not cool.” 

Sue adjusts so she’s properly sitting down right in front of Emily. “I’m sorry,” she says, and means it. “It was inexcusable.” 

Emily sighs, and seems to relax a little. “Okay. Thank you for saying that.” 

Sue nods. “Some party, huh?” she says, after a while. 

Emily smiles a little, then. “Did you see Austin? He was performing the High School Musical songs when I left.” 

She laughs. “When I came in, I think he was doing the guitar riff to Bohemian Rhapsody.” 

“Hey,” Emily says, after they’re done giggling at that. “I never asked. What took you so long? I thought you just went to get beer.” 

“Uh,” Sue says, “I’d rather not tell you.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“Because I don’t wanna charm my way out of you being mad at me.” 

“Oh,” Emily draws the sound out, teasingly. “It can’t possibly be that charming.” 

If she wanted to play it this way, then okay. 

“I stopped at an animal shelter on the way home. There’s a young cat there I thought we could adopt. Consider her a housewarming present.” 

“Oh,” Emily says, then in an undertone. “Damn it.” 

“Charmed?” 

“Ugh, fuck, okay,” Emily admits, then pulls at their joined hands till Sue gets on top of her lap. “I hate you. I love you, but I hate you.” 

Sue kisses her in return, settles in more comfortably. 

“Tell me about her?” Emily asks, softly, in the quiet. 

“Well, she chased the light reflected off my watch round and round so it’s safe to say she’s not the brightest.” 

“I love her already,” Emily assures her. 

***** 

On her eve of her 25th birthday, Sue walks into her apartment and finds Emily, Lavinia and Austin panicking over how to fit the last half of her last name onto limited space on a handmade banner. She says hi to Juggers and Iguana, their two cats, then picks up their two-month-old puppy Rooney, all before one of the three already present humans in the room realizes she’s there. 

“Sue, I’m so sorry,” Emily says, walking over to her and looking at her with a slightly desperate look in her eyes. “We tried baking cake, but it’s half burnt, but we can’t decide what to get and all we have are balloons but then Austin’s going crazy trying to keep Juggers from bursting them, because guess what? The cat is the devil—” 

“—babe—” 

“—no, I tried to make it a good birthday, I really did!” 

She puts her hands on either side of Emily’s face, which forces her to quiet down. Then she looks over at the others.  

“Have you guys been here the entire time I was taking classes?” 

They nod. 

She feels a little overwhelmed. “Guys, I — thank you so much,” she says, then takes stock of the situation. “Can you order pizza? We’ll ring in my birthday with pizza tonight.” 

Lavinia side-hugs her on their way out to the couch, and then they’re alone in the kitchen. She kisses Emily on the forehead, then on both cheeks, trying to drive away the frown. 

“What?” 

“I just wanted you to have a good birthday,” Emily says, despondent. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Sue says. “And so are our friends, who sat and worked this hard for hours trying to make me happy. And we’ll have pizza! We like pizza.” 

“You’re just saying that.” 

“No, you idiot” Sue explains, fondly. “I mean it. We’ll have burned cake, and we’ll fight over the pizza, and even if the animals are outnumbered, we’ll probably lose to them. And then we’ll probably watch a movie, and somehow all fall asleep on the carpet because Austin always claims the whole couch. Either way, it’ll be a good birthday, because I’m happy. And you know why I’m happy?” 

Emily’s still pouting. 

“Emily, why am I happy?” 

“Because we’re together,” Emily completes, in a small voice, and then finally, finally smiles. 

(It’s the messiest birthday Sue has ever had. Also the best) 

***** 

Here’s the thing about endings: everyone who writes stories knows they don’t really exist.  

A famous author once said that they weren’t really the end of the story, just where you chose to stop it. Well, Sue agrees. Which is why this story in her head never ends. The imaginary typewriter in her head will keep typing long after, filling pages with anniversaries and birthdays and emergency dog adoptions. Maybe the next page talks about the day Sue breaks her arm, and Emily proposes to her with an onion ring she gets out of the hospital vending machine. Or the day Lavinia loses Rooney, walks around the entire block with Austin to find him and finally discovers he’s hanging out at the old café they used to work at. 

So. Yes. This is where she decides to leave it. Finish it. There will be more stories to write later.

The end. 

(Wink wink. Nudge nudge.) 

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Want Us Part 7

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 //  Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,636

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

Tags: @the-baby-bookworm​ // @inlovewith3​ //

It didn’t take you and Carisi long to track down your suspect, your partner Antonio calling you back shortly after you drove away from the crime scene. The bentley was parked outside of the house it was registered, uniforms were on scene but there had been no one in or out of the house since they arrived, so you both headed over as quickly as you could. 

“Maybe we can finally put this thing to rest,” Carisi said optimistically, watching the way you tapped your finger absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

“Maybe...” you replied, shaking your head as you turned off onto a very nice road; the cars looked like they cost more than your apartment, let alone the houses. 

“What? You think it’s too neat?” Carisi guessed correctly, “I get that, really I do, but sometimes we get lucky.” You knew he was thinking the same as you, but you’d come to realise he was very much a glass half full kind of guy.

“Not this lucky,” you told him, pulling up behind the squad car parked down the end of the road, eyes landing on the vehicle from the security footage. “Not catch a serial killer with next to a dozen murders under his belt after a decade in less than 24 hours kind of lucky. We’re good, we’re not that good.” 

With a pointed look you switched off the engine and climbed out, Carisi following suit. He knew you were right, but for the sake of these women and Captain Benson, you got why he hoped you weren’t - you didn’t want to be either. 

“It’s that one, saw movement in the window but no one’s been in or out since we arrived, car was here already, matches your BOLO,” the officer first on scene told you, rolling down her window as you walked past. You nodded your thanks, still staring at the house. 

“You want back up?” Her partner asked, leaning over in his seat slightly.

“Nah, we’re good, hang tight in case we need you,” Carisi answered when you didn’t, too much of this case not adding up. Something was staring you right in the face, but you just couldn’t see it yet.

Carisi put a light hand on your arm, bringing you back to reality as he gestured with his head towards the house - it was time to move. 

You weren’t even all the way to the front door before it opened, your hand instinctively reaching for your gun before it quickly dropped, the person in the door not even a little who you were expecting as you and Carisi shared a confused look.

A kid stood in the door, probably not even 18, pale, face wet with tears and visibly shaking. You took a careful step forward, “are you okay?” You asked softly, noting how quickly his eyes were darting back and forth. 

Carisi noticed it first, pausing a little in his tracks as you saw what he was looking at - the tracksuit, the expensive trainers... the blood.

This was your suposed suspect?

“I- I- didn’t- I panicked- I-” he stammered, burying his head in his hands as he sobbed, “I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carisi consoled, reaching the boy and putting a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we go inside? You can tell us what happened?”

He looked up and nodded, leading you both inside. You signaled the unis to stand down before following them in, highly doubting they’d be needed.

“So, Bill, can I call you Billy?” You checked, surveying the house with an investigative eye. Billy nodded, finding his way into the living room and taking a seat, you and Carisi following suit on the sofa opposite.

“You the only one home?” Carisi asked, looking around. It clearly wasn’t Billy’s house, definitely his parents, as was the car, both way too expensive to be a teenager’s alone. Billy shook his head, not seeming to want to speak.

He was scared. Of what, or who, you didn’t know, but you were going to find out. “Billy,” you said, making him look up at you from his hands, “what happened?” You asked sympathetically, the weight of whatever he knew clearly threatening to break him.

“I was out for a run, my friend showed me this new route so I thought I’d give it a try, I nearly didn’t see her at first but- I mean she didn’t even look real- she was like some kind of doll I didn’t-” his breath caught in his throat, Carisi passing him a tissue from the coffee table as he tried to compose himself, “- I went to check if she was I person, and then I realised she was dead, oh god she was dead and I got scared and I swear I was going to tell someone, I swear, but then I heard someone and there was this guy- so I ran, I just ran, got in my car and-”

“Wow wow, slow down Billy, breath,” Carisi soothed, both of you perking up at the mention of another man, “what guy? Tell us more about the guy.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get a really good look, didn’t want to stick around you know? He came out from the trees behind the body and I didn’t want to be next- Oh right er... he was white, shorter maybe, wearing this white running gear-”

You exhaled sharply, clenching your jaw. You’d been so caught up... Why hadn’t it crossed your mind before now? 

“Was that... helpful?” Billy asked, you and Carisi sharing a knowing look as you rose from where you were sitting, unable to afford to waste anymore time than you already had. 

“Incredibly Billy, you did good. We’re going to need to bring you down to the station, alright?” Carisi clarified, satisfied you’d gotten everything you needed for the moment. There was definitely more work to be done, but you finally felt like you were getting closer. 

“But I didn’t-” He started, agitation increasing as he straightened up in his seat.

“We know that, we do, but we’re going to need to confirm everything properly before we let you go, get you to make an official statement,” you explained, voice getting softer as you gave his shoulder a reasurring pat, “we believe you, I promise.”

He nodded, resigning himself. Carisi began to explain the process to him but you were already turning on your heels and heading out of the door, your phone in your hand as you dialed Voight.

“We have a problem,” you told him as soon as he picked up, explaining what Billy had just told you, along with your conversation with Tate. Voight listened intently, waiting until you were finished to talk.

“Do we believe the kid?” He asked you, trusting you enough to defer to your judgement.

You looked back as Carisi led the kid outside, waving to the uniforms to bring him to the squad car and take him to the 21st, his parents were meeting him there, probably with the best lawyer money could buy if the house was any indication, but you didn’t think it’d make a difference.

“We do,” you told him, watching as Carisi made his way back to you from the car, “I know how it sounds, and finger pointing isn’t what we like to go on, but he’s a kid Sarge,” 

You put the phone on speaker, “Y/N’s right, he wouldn’t even have been ten when the New York murders happened.”

“Copycat?” Voight doublechecked, wanting to cover all bases.

“Can’t be, he wouldn’t have known all the facts, and even if we say at a stretch that he wasn’t working alone... we’d still be missing a mastermind,” you told him, Carisi nodding along to every word.

“Okay,” Voight said thoughtfully, “do we have an alibi for the first murder in Chicago?”

You looked to Carisi, “not yet, he’s hysterical, we’ve sent him back to you at the 21st and his parents are being contacted.”

“Okay, I’ll put Atwater and Rojas on it, they’re focusing on Lily’s case,” he told you, “I’ll get back to you when we know more, but for now I’m putting you two on Tate, I’ll fill Benson in while you do, and ask Hailey and Jay to see if either of the families know both potential suspects.”

“Copy that, thanks,” you signed off, putting your phone away with a sigh.

“Everyone missed it,” Carisi tried as you stalked off towards the car, clearly beating yourself up.

“I shouldn’t have done,” you grumbled, digging out the information you’d gotten from the officer on scene about Tate’s address. He was going to say more but you were walking with too much purpose. 

“Y/N,” Carisi grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks as you grabbed the handle of your door. You looked back at him, meeting his eyes.

Then he was kissing you, quickly and urgently, the force and surprise pushing you back into the car as he took your breath away.

And then he was pulling away, stepping back as you remembered how to breath, lips tingling and cheeks warm. “I just needed to do that, now we should get back to work,” he told you, heading back to his side of the car with one last lingering look, leaving you still more than a little disoriented. 

“Er yea, yeah we should go that,” you answered, more than a few seconds after he’d said it, turning back to see him smiling from across the car as you opened the door and climbed in. 

You’d be thinking about that for the rest of the day, but you tried your best to push it to one side for now as you composed yourself: “Let’s go have a another chat with Mr. Tate.”