#the one that got close got REAL close just over where Oscar was standing under a lilac bush sooo outside time ended lmaooo

[thecatinthepurplepants]

me and my miniature dachshund noticing one of several VERY large birds of prey circling overhead decide to come down lower over our backyard while I am very much not in a physical state to be playing tug-o-war with a bird over a small dog

[maxlarens]

hi lilli! i love your fics sm, so could i possibly request oscar + brushing a strand of hair away with maybe best friend reader? tysm queen 🙏

joyce!! thank you!!! sorry it took me more than a month to do this. i sat down today to write ANOTHER george drabble and then decided no. i have to write something for oscar. it has been far too long and i miss him and he deserves it. i did this with roommate!reader which i think fits the same vibe!?

“Hey. How you feeling?”, Oscar asks, his head sticking in through the gap in your doorway, hair lit like a halo.

You groan, turning over in bed so you’re not facing the hallway light streaming into the room. You wrangle a hand out from under your sheets, gesture for him to come inside and then shove your face back into the sweaty pillow.

“Close the door,” you add.

Oscar laughs quietly, “Bad. I take it.”

You make a mocking noise, then pat the empty side of the bed for him to sit on. Hopeful that he'll take you up on your offer, despite your apparent contagion.

“Terrible.”

You feel the bed dip as he shuffles to sit next to you. His knees pressing gently into your back from where he's sitting cross-legged. He makes a halfway sympathetic noise, then you feel his hand on your shoulder. He pats you awkwardly, in that way he is wont to do— you can't tell if he thinks you're going to give him this cold you've got, or if he's just being weird about touching you again.

Which is funny, considering.

Considering the lines you've been crossing recently.

Kissing him on the cheek when he leaves or arrives home, cuddling on the couch all the time, standing hip-to-hip in the kitchen while making dinner. Sleeping in each other's beds. But not last night, not with this flu you've got. Part of you had wanted him here, but you'd still refused when he offered.

You'd hate to get him sick with his race coming up. Or, more likely, you hate to keep living in this delusion that you know isn't real.

Yet, here he is. Checking on you first thing in the morning, crawling into your bed like it's normal. Like he belongs there.

"Poor thing," he says absently, running his fingers down your arm.

You turn to face him, body aching and your head pounding a rhythm into your skull. He looks down at you, lips pursed in a tight frown, hair a mess, t-shirt askew like he'd not even adjusted it before checking in on you. Newsflash: He hadn't.

You feel dizzy, from being ill, from his proximity. You're not sure.

He reaches forward, bringing the blankets up under your chin, then in a rare moment of hesitation he reaches to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. It vaguely damp there, a little cold, but your skin burns where he'd brushed the shell of your ear.

"Need anything?", he asks, blinking, face as unreadable as ever.

You shake your head, but think: just you.

just a short one for all the sick girlies out there!

[hockeyshmockey]

Daniel Ricciardo- Met Monday

summary: when two famous people become lost for words around each other. Daniel Ricciardo x fem!oc

warnings: brief mentions of panic attacks/anxiety!

“How are you?” Sarah asked her client, who was taking deep breaths in a heavy, intricate gown in the back seat of a SUV.

“Just trying not to vomit,” Jane tried to smile at her assistant in a way that was reassuring, but she was sure it came across as forced as it felt.

“You can do this!” Sarah encouraged. “The carpet will only take around 15 minutes, and then it���s just interviews. And you’re scheduled with Emma, you love interviewing with her.”

“You’re right,” Jane tried to breath. She had been in this industry since she was 16, but sometimes it never got easier. Of course, the Met Gala was unlike anything she had ever experience before. The actress had been to Cannes, the Oscars, so many award shows she couldn’t count, but Anna Wintour’s evening was THE event.

When Jane had gotten the call from Valentino, she had been stunned. Though she had done a campaign with the brand the year before, she never would have guessed they would have invited her to the event. But here she was, in a custom designed gown, getting ready to walk one of the most extravagant carpets in the world.

“Yeah, we got this,” Jane took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she felt the car slow, and the sounds outside crescendo as they approached the venue. As the brunette opened her eyes, she met Sarah’s concerned gaze. Giving the woman a more confident smile, Jane looked out the window as their driver hopped out and walked around to the back door.

Here we go, the woman thought as she climbed out and pasted on a smile. She waved as she walked past the wall of fans to where the carpet began. Like Sarah had guessed, once Jane was on the carpet and posing, time flew. She stopped for photos with some others in Valentino, including Pedro Pascal who had listened with a grin as the girl gushed about The Last of Us. 

Jane’s grin turned softer as she reached the top of the stairs and saw Sarah waiting for her next to a familiar brunette. 

“Oh here we go!” Emma Chamberlain let out her familiar laugh as Jane made her way towards the younger girl. “Guys it’s my girl Jane Richards, from the great outback!”

Jane laughed as she pulled Emma into a little side cuddle before standing in front of her and the camera. “I’m only here so you’ll send me coffee.”

“Fair point,” Emma shrugged. “So, Jane tell us all about the fit!”

“So this is Valentino,” Jane grinned as she ran her hands down her Valentino Pink Creation. “The team really let me dive into this. I loved the idea of doing a pantsuit because I am a whore for a pantsuit, and then they wanted me in a cape, and Marvel hasn’t called yet so I thought this would be my only chance to be in a cape.”

Emma laughed along with the woman as she asked more typical questions before turning to the juicy part of the interview, as she spotted her secondary victim in the background. “Now,” Emma turned to the camera. “As you guys know, Jane and I are besties, and we know deep and dirty secrets about each other.”

“Oh god,” Jane whispered, wondering what the brunette was up to.

“One of Jane’s guilty pleasures is F1 racing,” Emma turned back to Jane. “You were at the Vegas GP preparations last year, you went to multiple races, you’re a huge fan!”

“Oh yes,” Jane nodded. “I grew up in Australia but my family is British so our house was always watching the races. And then when Ricciardo started racing for Red Bull, we had a hometown racer that I was able to watch in real time, it was so cool.”

“Ah yes, Ricciardo,” Emma nodded. “Famously, you have admitted while under the influence of the puppy interview, that he is your celebrity crush.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Jane blushed as she giggled, knowing her confession had over 11 million views on Youtube.

“Well, as much as I hate to do this, which I don’t,” Emma grinned. “Let’s get him over here! Hi Daniel!”

Jane choked on her own breath as she looked over her shoulder to see a head of curly hair walk up to her little corner with Emma. “Oh my god,” Jane coughed as Sarah started to walk over.

“Arms up,” a familiar twang said as tattooed hands grabbed her arms and guided them over her head. “Can’t admit I’ve had this reaction before.”

“Oh my god,” Jane patted her eyes as she reached for the bottle of water Sarah offered. “I am so sorry I-”

“No worries,” Daniel Ricciardo laughed as he came to stand by her. “I was just-”

“This is so fun,” Emma cackled. “Sorry J, didn’t mean to almost kill you.”

Jane glared at Emma as the producer got them another microphone. “Sorry to crash,” the brunette tried to say quietly as they waited for Emma. “I’m really, I mean, I’m a huge fan like-”

“Alright lovebirds,” Emma cut in with a smile. “We’re going to play a quick game of Australian trivia with two of our favorite Aussies.”

“Do you want to hold this or-” Daniel fumbled the microphone as Jane moved closer to him.

“No it’s ok I think,” she tried to play it cool. “We can be team mates.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel laughed as they turned to Emma who had 10 questions ready to go.

No one was surprised when the rest of the Vogue interview was filled with laughs, memes and sneaky looks between Jane and Daniel. As Emma said goodbye to them, Jane grabbed Daniel’s arm and made a head nod to a corner away from the cameras. 

Daniel was confused, but happy that the woman in front of him wanted to keep speaking with him. He knew after tonight he would have texts from all of his friends giving him so much shit for the cluster he made of his first chat with the woman, but she seemed just as flustered.

“So, first off, fuck McLaren,” Jane laughed nervously as she looked into Daniel’s eyes as he laughed with her. 

“Thank you for the solidarity,” Daniel smiled that signature beam that Jane mirrored. 

“I just felt it was important to tell you, that when I was in the car on the way here, on the verge of an anxiety attack, I thought on your quote about enjoying the butterflies, and it really calmed me down. And I think it is so admirable the way you can be yourself with the way you were treated last season and-”

“Go to dinner with me,” Daniel blurted out, cutting the rambling blushing woman off. “I’m sorry, but I would hit myself if I didn’t get to talk about this with you when eight hundred cameras aren’t tracking us and I can get myself together enough to flirt with you.”

“Oh,” Jane looked at him wide eyed. “You want to flirt with me?”

“Haven’t you seen the memes that came out after your puppy interview of me admitting you’re my biggest celebrity crush,” Daniel winked. “I feel like I owe you a meal that doesn’t cost a few grand a plate.”

“I’m more of a burger and chips type of girl,” Jane smiled softly.

“My type of girl,” Daniel grinned.

The next day, the f1 gossip pages were filled with clips of Daniel and Jane’s interview. Emma Chamberlain would later get a huge flower arrangement and wine from two Australians for forcing them together.

[keithpoenewt]

5 Times Montague and Silas Fought + 1 Time They Didn't - Part 2

Part 1

2 - Teeth / Into You - Grand Glacier

Word count: 4,380

Silas stands outside the Grand Glacier hotel debating if he should enter or cut his losses and go home. When he received the invitation in the mail, he was certain it was a mistake. Montague doesn’t speak to him in months then all of the sudden decides to invite him to a party at his stupid pompous hotel? The nerve on that guy. Who cares if it was only two months of silence? Who cares if Silas was the one who told Montague to fuck off in the first place?

The audacity on that stupidly handsome French fuck.

Against his better judgment, he pushes open the hotel doors and walks in. As expected, the place is filled with many of the higher ups of Helios as well as people the Society has most likely lied to in order to ensure their support. Silas doesn’t like it, but he knows he’s in no place to judge considering his parents did the same to build the empire he inherited. It just leaves a sour taste in his mouth knowing someone he cares deeply about is behind this. Surely if Montague was transparent from the start about the medallions and who else he was working with, maybe Silas could have talked him out of working with some the others (aside from Nisha since Silas believes she’s the one of the group who has her morals in order…sort of).

Silas notes a lot of the decorations have diamonds interwoven in them. He half wonders where the hell Montague got his hands on this much diamond, but the other half of him suspects it has to do with that special amulet of his. Whenever Montague got a little too upset about something, he’d notice the amulet glow briefly and the tips of Montague’s fingers became diamond encrusted. Though it really only happened if someone got too close to Silas. Montague never showed the true power of what the amulet could do, but Silas assumes his whole body gets covered in diamond armor. He’d be lying if it wasn’t kinda hot to see Montague’s typical stoic nature crack under pressure.

Silas stops, startled by the thought. Though, before he can fully process what possessed him to think of Montague that way, Frank headbutts him and uses his tail to point towards the grand staircase. Silas sees Montague standing there talking with Oscar. Normally, Montague has a gray overcoat he wears, but he’s settled for only wearing his dark undervest, black shirt, and silver pants.

“Sometimes, you’re a stranger in my bed Don’t know if you love me or want me dead”

“Do you expect me to go and sssspeak to him?” Silas says to Frank. “Becausssse I don’t like that idea.”

And I don’t like having to deal with you whining and pining over him all the time, Frank responds. So you have two choices: go talk to him or have my teeth sink into your neck.

Rude.

Silas shoves his pride aside and makes his way over to Montague. Oscar spots him first, immediately frowning. “I thought we had a strict ‘no reptiles’ policy?” Oscar wonders.

Montague turns, eyes lighting up. “Silas! You actually came!”

“I can get rid of him if you want,” Oscar growls.

Silas glares at Oscar while Frank hisses at him. “Doessss the overgrown lap animal think he can win?”

Oscar bares his teeth and his claws unfurl out of his paws. Montague places a hand on his chest, which immediately puts the tiger at ease. It makes Silas’s blood boil.

“Oscar, that is not necessary. Silas is a guest, and this is not how we treat guests,” Montague chastises.

The tiger grumbles. “Whatever…have fun with your little snake. I’ll be at the bar when you want some real company.” Oscar marches down the stairs, brushing past Silas.

He’d make a great statement rug in your master bedroom, Frank notes.

“Agreed,” Silas mutters.

“Sorry about him. He’s, well, protective…I guess,” Montague says. “Anyway, I am really happy to see you though. I will admit that I didn’t think you would come.”

“I wassss surprised to ssssee the invite,” Silas admits. “Two monthssss hearing nothing then ssssuddenly thissss?”

Montague chuckles. “Well, I wanted to call immediately after you left, but Nisha told me I should give you some space and time to decompress. She reminded me you prefer to not be cornered. I am sorry if it made it seem like I didn’t care. I did—I do—I just—I also got busy. With the Underground trying to thwart our progress…things have been messy. They have been a huge thorn in our sides.”

The Underground. Jonsey and Hope. Silas knew them well considering he’s been lending them a hand from time to time whenever they ask. An uncomfortable pit sits at the bottom of his stomach. He doesn’t like lying to Montague, but if he found out that Silas ended up choosing the opposing side in this fight…that might set him off the deep end. Nisha can only harvest and make so much wine at one time.

Silas is good at keeping a neutral expression. Frank usually is the one to betray his innermost thoughts, but he came to an agreement with the snake to make sure Montague never finds out about him taking Jonsey and Hope’s side until the time was right—whenever that may be.

“I bet they have, but I alsssso know you’re not one to go down without a fight.” Silas reaches up and flattens Montague’s collar. His hands linger for a moment and move down to Montague’s amulet. Before they can touch it, Montague takes his hands, smiling fondly at him. Silas didn’t notice it before, but Montague must’ve abandoned his gloves when he ditched his coat. They’re soft and warm, and Silas can picture himself leaning into Montague’s touch as he runs his hands through his hair.

He should’ve left the hat at home. Fuck.

“But close ain’t close enough ‘Til we cross the line”

“I would not do that…unless you want to turn to diamond,” Montague whispers, leaning farther into Silas’s personal bubble. “Though, I think some diamond would look great on you.”

So, your theory was right, Frank comments. And close your mouth before you start drooling.

Silas clenches his jaw. He gets the briefest whiff of lingering FlowBerry on Montague’s breath before he’s hit with Montague’s cologne, getting hints of apple, cinnamon, smoke, and bourbon vanilla.

Montague notices Silas’s falter and smirks. “What? Snake got your tongue?”

“I’m too ssssober for your shit,” Silas hisses. “If you’re going to be annoying all night, you besssst take me to the bar and get me drunk.”

Montague laughs and links arms with him. “As you wish.”

Frank takes the opportunity to slither off Silas’s shoulders to Montague’s. If snakes could purr, Silas is certain that’s what he’d be doing right now. Frank nuzzles against Montague’s cheek, earning a laugh from the man. Montague scratches Frank’s chin. “Hi, Frankie. Did you miss me?”

Frank licks Montague’s nose.

“I will take that as a yes,” Montague says with a chuckle. “Silas, are you seeing this?”

“I’m well aware of what my traitoroussss snake is doing,” Silas states. “You don’t need to rub it in.” He pauses. “However, he’ssss…a ssssentient being but alsssso an extension.”

Montague looks at Silas and tilts his head. “Extension?”

Every part of Silas screams to keep this to himself. He shouldn’t tell Montague. What if one of the other Society members overheard? Everything would be over, and there would be a massive target on his back.

But this is Montague. He wouldn’t…right?

Silas sighs and turns his gaze to the floor. “Of my feelingssss.” He hates how his cheeks flush. Silas would blame it on the alcohol…if he had any in his system.

“Push me away, push me away Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay”

Montague frowns. “Your feelings? I—” Realization flashes across his face. “You mean you—” He laughs. “Oh! Well, if you wanted to give me a kiss on my cheek, you would not hear a complaint from me. You are free to do that whenever you feel the urge to.”

Silas huffs. “You’re making me regret coming here.” Frank returns to Silas to give some comfort, assuring him that he won’t abandon him for Montague…probably.

Never thought I’d see the day you open up to someone, Frank teases.

Montague bumps hips with Silas before leading him down the stairs over to the bar. Other hotel guests and party goers move aside when they see Montague walking through the crowd. Some give them weird looks while others barely spare them a glance. Nevertheless, Silas doesn’t like the attention. Word of him being here will without a doubt get back to Hope and Jonsey. They knew of Silas’s complicated history with Montague because Hope did ask if they were in a situationship. Silas didn’t know how to answer that. Anyway, Silas hopes they know he won’t divulge any of their secrets because they know he won’t spill any of Montague’s secrets.

When they approach the bar, Silas stiffens when he sees the other Society members (sans the Peter guy…Silas still doesn’t really understand his role in the operation). Nisha and Oscar sit at the barstools while Valeria tends the bar from behind. Nisha gives Silas a polite smile while Valeria and Oscar glare—if looks could kill, Silas would be bleeding out on the ground.

“Monty…why is he here?” Valeria wonders, twirling her martini. “This is supposed to be a celebration! Why bring the buzzkill?”

“I invited him. He is a guest—my guest,” Montague states.

Was that a hint of possessiveness? Frank asks.

“And I expect you to treat him as such,” Montague continues. “Now, we are going to sit here and drink. If any of you have an issue with that, you can go elsewhere, got it?”

Oscar downs the rest of his drink and spares no second to fuck off elsewhere. Good riddance. Nisha makes no move to leave. Fine. Whatever. Out of the three, Silas likes her company the best anyway. Valeria, however, could get hit by her train. That would bring a smile to Silas’s face.

Montague leads Silas to the barstool next to Nisha, holding his arm as he sits to be a gentleman (or to embarrass Silas further in front of his other friends). Once Silas is situated, Montague walks behind the bar to make them both a drink. As soon as Montague’s within arms reach of Valeria, she takes the opportunity to snake her arm against Montague’s side and interlace their fingers.

“So name a game to play And I’ll roll the dice”

“I thought we were going to spend the rest of the party together!” Valeria whines. “I was really looking forward to it too, Monty.”

Silas bites his tongue to avoid making a comment.

Montague sighs and pulls his hand away. “Val, please. You promised you would not do this.”

“Do what? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Monty,” she purrs. “Maybe we could—”

“Valeria, I think those people who were spray painting people’s cars are back outside,” Nisha interrupts, also fed up with her antics. At least Nisha knew how to read a room. “Would you like to come with me and deal with them?”

Valeria’s eyes narrow. “Those shitheads never learn, do they?” She huffs. “We’ll continue this conversation later, Monty.” She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth then storms off towards the front doors.

Nisha finishes off her drink before giving Silas an apologetic look. “She’s—”

“I know. Thank you,” he says.

“Anytime.” She winks then follows after Valeria.

Silas turns back to Montague as he puts down two glasses and an entire bottle of FlowBerry Fizz. “Do you have a drinking problem?” Silas wonders.

“Usually when Val is trying to mark her territory, yes. It helps me calm down.” Montague pours them both a glass. “But on the flipside, I am not going to say no to a free supply of Fizz from Nisha. Her family really knows how to run a winery.” He takes a long sip.

“I feel like that’s ssssomething we should talk about,” Silas comments, swirling his wine. “Are you okay?”

Montague leans forward across the bar and grins. “Better now that you are here. I did miss you…a lot. I will admit that I had become accustomed to our consistent meetings back in Mega City. Seeing you was something I always looked forward to.”

Silas hums and sips his drink. He knows Frank is eyeing Montague, desperately wanting to slide close to him and rub his head against him, but for once, he’s behaving and staying by Silas—most likely only because Silas told Montague what Frank represents. Or maybe Silas is projecting. Maybe Silas wants to climb over the bar and—

He cuts off that train of thought with a long gulp of the Fizz.

“And I am sorry that my other friends have been less than kind to you, truly,” Montague continues. “They—”

“Not all of them,” Silas interrupts.

Montague chuckles. “Yes, Nisha. You know, she does ask about you from time to time. She thinks I have lost my charm now that we have drifted a bit apart.” He finishes off his drink then refills his glass.

As soon as Silas sets his glass down, Montague refills it too. “You’re really trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?” Silas asks.

“You asked me to, did you not?” Montague winks. “Something about me being too annoying to deal with sober? I am nothing if not a man of my word…and of my reputation.”

“Call me in the morning to apologize Every little lie gives me butterflies”

Silas’s chest flutters at those words. He grips the glass and makes the terrible decision to chug it. If Montague wanted to get him drunk then so be it. Silas likes the wicked grin that grows on Montague’s face as he watches Silas down the drink. He readily tops off Silas’s glass and joins in, probably eager to outdrink him.

Gradually, the bottle of wine gets down to the last bit, and Silas feels the pleasant buzz radiating through his body. He’s definitely going to pay for this tomorrow. “Sssso, why didn’t you call ssssooner?” Silas asks. He hates the uncertainty in his tone. Stupid booze.

“Like I said before…Nisha encouraged me to give you time to cool off.”

“Yeah, but…issss that all? You and Valeria sssseem closssse.”

Montague grabs the wine bottle and drinks the rest of it. “Yeah. You could say that. It…” He looks at Silas and studies his face with an odd expression.

Silas has never felt shameful or awkward under Montague’s gaze because usually it’s accompanied by a stupid grin. Though now, he feels self-conscious and unworthy. There’s almost a hint of desire behind Montague’s brown and blue eyes.

Then, Montague breaks eye contact and pulls a pair of glasses out of his pocket—the glasses Silas gave him back in Mega City at their last meetup before the world exploded.

Silas frowns and takes them. “You kept thesssse? All thissss time?”

“Yeah! It was like the last piece I had of you when I was unsure if you were alive,” Montague says. “I planned on giving them back sooner, but you left before I could. And I guess I was scared that I fucked everything up, so I continued to keep them. But you are here now, and I have no use for them now…now that I have you.”

“Oh, baby, look what you started The temperature’s rising in here”

Silas can’t help but break his stoic expression in shock at the revelation. He swallows, attempting to regain his composure. “Who ssssays you have me?”

Montague’s cheeks flush. “Well, um, not like that! I mean maybe—but we are here talking and being together and I think—I feel like we are back in Mega City.”

“And jusssst talking? You’ll have to try harder than that.”

“Touché.” Montague puts their empty glasses away and leans over the bar, invading Silas’s personal bubble again. “What can I do to prove myself?”

Silas says nothing, not trusting his voice to speak without wavering. Frank, however, takes it upon himself to lean forward and give Montague a lick dangerously close to his lips. Montague smirks. “I can do that but—” He stands up straight and walks around the bar to tower in front of Silas “—first we must build up to it. Skipping right to the end spoils the whole show, right? And we all know I like to do things right. I am your lavish host! Only the best for my star guest.” Montague holds his hand out to Silas, the smirk still plastered on his face.

He should slap the hand away since Montague’s being an ass, but his eyes look sincere…and a little ravenous. What’s up with that?

Silas inhales and takes Montague’s hand, causing the other man’s smile to bloom into something more loving. Montague laces their fingers together and leads him onto the colorful dance floor under the disco ball. Was the disco ball made of diamonds? Most likely. But Silas is more focused on how nicely their hands fit together and how relaxed Montague looks holding Silas’s hand over Valeria’s. With Silas, it’s firm but not tight—like he knows Silas won’t let go anytime soon. With Valeria, it looked suffocating—like any movement from Montague to get out of her grasp would cause her to dig her nails into his hand. He’d have to check Montague’s hand later to see if there are any marks.

Once they get in the middle of the dance floor, Montague wastes no time twirling Silas into his arms. He keeps their hands connected and places the other one on Silas’s waist. The touch burns, but in the way a steaming hot shower relaxes the muscles after a long day. Silas settles for putting his free hand on Montague’s shoulder. They stay almost at arm’s length until Montague pulls him closer, forcing Silas to reach around Montague’s neck to steady himself. Their hips bump and all the heat rushes to Silas’s cheeks.

“Ssssorry,” Silas mutters at their proximity.

“Nonsense.” Montague smiles. “I think my intentions are quite clear.” His hand remains on Silas, keeping them pressed together.

“Something in the way you’re looking through my eyes Don’t know if I’m gonna make it out alive”

Thankfully by now, Frank has slithered into Silas’s pack to avoid watching this unfold. Granted, he can still sense Silas’s thoughts if he wanted to, but Silas is fairly certain this is something he won’t want to witness.

Silas smells Montague’s cologne again and shivers. Oh, how he wishes he could taste Montague right now. Silas leans in close enough so his cheek brushes against Montague’s, and says, “You ssssmell intoxicating.”

Montague chuckles, sliding his hand so it rests at the small of Silas’s back. “I thought you would like it. Although, there is something I have been wanting to try.”

“Mmmm,” Silas hums, allowing Montague to lead in dancing to the music. For every step Montague takes forward, Silas takes one step back. “And what’ssss that?” Silas leans far enough back so he can look at Montague while keeping minimal distance between them.

Montague stops moving, basking in Silas’s gaze. “You.”

Silas notices they’ve migrated from the center of the dance floor to the edge where the stairs lead up to the rooms. For a moment, Silas doesn’t know what Montague means, but when Montague’s hands tense on his back and in his hand, Silas realizes.

“Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move Before I make a move”

It’s probably a mistake and a horrible idea that will certainly blow up in his face later. He’ll have to blame it on the alcohol later, but right now, Silas wastes no time bridging the gap between them. He cups Montague’s chin in the hand not being held captive by Montague and slots their lips together for a quick but desperate kiss. Their first kiss is by no means neat considering they’re still awkwardly holding hands, and Montague has a death grip on Silas’s lower back. If he holds on any tighter, he’s going to rip the jacket.

Not that he’d mind if Montague tore the jacket off. That would move things along.

Silas pulls back first, unsure if he overstepped. “Um…I— did I missssread that?”

Montague shakes his head. “Fuck no. But we should go somewhere more private.” He steps away from Silas and leads him up the grand staircase. They walk across the balcony over to what Silas assumes is Montague’s room. Down below, none of the party guests pay them any mind. Except, Silas catches Valeria’s eye, earning a fiery scowl from her, but next to her, Nisha gives him an approving nod.

Nisha’s validation is good enough for him.

Montague tears open the door, ushering Silas in before slamming it shut. No doubt everybody downstairs heard that. There’s a king bed tucked in the corner turret of the room. A desk sits to its right with a computer and three monitors. A painting of what looks like the hotel covered in snow hangs the same wall as the door—no surprise there. Another door leads to a bathroom and next to that stands a tall, lucious fireplace. The room isn’t as decorated as Silas would have thought, but then again, Montague was never one to hold onto many things with sentimental value—unless said item belonged to Silas apparently.

“Thissss where you take all your conquestssss?” Silas wonders.

Montague walks at Silas until he’s pressed against the wall. His hat falls to the side but neither of them pay it any mind.

Montague leans in, whispering, “Just you.” His gaze rakes across Silas’s face for a moment before he crashes his lips onto Silas’s.

Silas inhales, taking in that cinnamon smokey scent once more. He slides his hands up Montague’s arms and into his hair, running his fingers through it. Montague grabs the top of Silas’s jacket and unzips it, forcing him to shrug it off. Silas briefly breaks the kiss, earning a whine of protest from Montague.

“Sssso impatient,” Silas says, gently setting down the bag that has Frank.

Once the bag is on the ground, Montague grabs Silas’s hips again. “Forgive me for being antsy, but I think this has been a long time coming.”

Silas brushes his lips against Montague’s, smirking at the whine that escapes his mouth. “It hassss, hasssn’t it?”

“Fuck—you are cruel.”

Silas grins and pushes forward against Montague, connecting their lips again. He leads them near the bed as he fumbles with the buttons on Montague’s silky shirt.

“Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet”

He manages to get the last button undone and helps Montague out of it, tossing it to the side. Montague’s hands explore Silas’s chest for any buttons or something to take off his shirt, but it’s just a regular black turtleneck.

“Why did you insist on wearing this fucking shirt?” Montague huffs against Silas’s lips. “Makes it hard to get it off. Unless you want me to rip it off you.”

Silas laughs and pulls away. “Allow me.” Montague watches as Silas slowly lifts up the bottom of the shirt to expose his stomach.

“Fucking tease.”

“He pulls it over his head and the silver chain he wears falls into his bare chest. A shiver runs down his spine at the cool metal. Silas falls back onto the bed and looks up at Montague expectantly. “Better?”

“Much.” Montague leans down, placing a knee between Silas’s legs. “Hiding all this from me? Silas, how could you?”

“I’ve learned that a little mysssstery is good for you, Montague,” Silas says. His gaze moves to the amulet still around Montague’s neck. “Gonna turn me into diamond? I admit I would make a good statement piece.”

Montague’s cheeks flush and he quickly removes it, setting it to the side. “No. That would be—no.” He crawls further on top of Silas, using one hand to keep him steady above him and the other to trace a line along Silas’s chin.

Silas, now growing impatient himself, reaches around Montague’s neck and pulls him down into another kiss. Montague falters a bit when his hips land on Silas’s, but when Silas’s breath hitches against his lips, he regains composure.

“Just think—everything we could do,” Montague mutters between kisses. “We could be—unstoppable.”

Silas says nothing, not really sure where he’s going with this. Less talk. More kissing.

“If you’d just join us—me—”

Silas freezes underneath him. Montague begins trailing kisses across Silas’s chin and down his neck. He can’t be serious. Right now? He’s choosing to bring this up now?!

“—the Underground wouldn’t know what to do—”

For the love of everything—don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.

“—you’d make the Society a powerhouse—”

“Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth”

And suddenly…this isn’t fun anymore.

“Montague, stop. Get off me.”

“What—” Montague sits up with a confused expression. “What happened?”

“Did you lure me in here—into your bedroom just to trick me into joining the Ssssociety again?!” Silas demands, voice laced with venom. “I already told you no.”

Montague’s eyes widen. “Fuck—no! It just slipped out!” Montague exclaims. “Silas, please. Just forget it and go back to where we were. Please.” He leans in to kiss him again, but Silas puts a hand on his chest. “Silas.”

“No. Get off me. Now.”

Montague nods and scrambles off Silas. He offers a hand to help him up, but Silas slaps it away. Silas grabs his discarded shirt and jacket and angrily puts them on.

“Silas, please don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Silas turns to glare at him, eyes glossy with tears. “My feelingssss aren’t for your entertainment. Ssssave that for your other victimssss. Goodbye, Montague.” He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Frank slithers out of the bag and nuzzles against Silas, wiping the tears off his cheeks. I’m sorry, he says. I thought he was different.

Silas puts on his glasses and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Me too, but I guess people never change.”

Part 3

[the-camembert-rapport]

Time's Up, Cosby! 80s Flashback Lawsuit Teleports Pudding Pop Icon to Court!

In a plot twist that could rival any prime-time cliffhanger from the era of big hair and neon leg warmers, a former "Cosby Show" stand-in catapults into the legal spotlight, lobbing a lawsuit grenade at Bill Cosby himself. She's charging the once-beloved sitcom dad with a cocktail of drugs and despicable deeds, straight out of the decade known for excess and questionable fashion. Well, folks, gather 'round, because it's storytime with Uncle Bill, and spoiler alert—it's not the kind of story that ends with a pudding pop! It's like the "The Cosby Show" got a reboot nobody asked for: "Law & Order: Special Victims Cosby." So, a former stand-in from the show is suing America's once-favorite TV dad, Bill Cosby, claiming he drugged and took advantage of her faster than you can say "zip zop zoobity bop." The lady in question, who probably thought a stand-in gig was as harmless as being a seat-filler at the Oscars, says Cosby offered to mentor her acting career. Because when a guy who plays a lovable obstetrician on TV offers you career advice, you think, "Hey, what could go wrong?" Apparently, a lot, when the wine comes out and the next thing you know, you're doing an impression of a college freshman after their first kegger—unplanned and unpretty. Now, thanks to New York’s Adult Survivors Act, which is like a legal Cinderella story where the carriage turns back into a pumpkin at midnight—or in this case, on Thanksgiving—victims are racing against the clock to serve up their lawsuits with a side of justice. Because nothing says "thanks" like dredging up decades of trauma before you pass the gravy. The accuser says that post-drugged-up acting exercise, she woke up in a less-than-dreamy state. Partially undressed and worshipping the porcelain gods—that's one heck of a plot twist you won't find in any sitcom rerun. And apparently, some enlightened co-star mentioned that Cosby had a sort of "diplomatic immunity" on set. Because nothing screams "wholesome" like having carte blanche to ruin lives between takes. And just when you thought it couldn't get more festive, NBCUniversal, Kaufman Astoria Studios, and The Carsey-Werner Company are getting served a piece of the lawsuit pie for allegedly not keeping tabs on their star. They're accused of negligence, which is corporate speak for "Oops, we didn't notice our cash cow was a wolf." Cosby's spokesperson, who must have the world's toughest job next to the guy who has to convince us that kale tastes good, says these legal look-back windows are just a way to target rich celebrities. Because when over 60 women come forward, it's obviously a conspiracy to bring down a wealthy star and has nothing to do with accountability. It's like blaming the weatherman because you forgot your umbrella—it's not the forecast's fault you got soaked! Cosby, the man who made a fortune on family-friendly entertainment, was once on top of the world, only to find himself in prison faster than you can say "Jell-O jailhouse." But like a plot twist in a soap opera, he was released after a higher court said "psyche!" to his conviction. Now, the only thing he's starring in is a courtroom drama that no one's DVRing for later. So, as the Adult Survivors Act's window is about to close, another chapter opens in the never-ending saga that could be titled "Cosby and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Decades." And all this before we could even enjoy our turkey. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need to go watch some cartoons to recover from this real-life horror show. SAUCE: Accuser sues Bill Cosby for alleged abuse dating to 1980s under expiring New York survivors law https://apnews.com/article/bill-cosby-sexual-misconduct-adult-survivors-act-0b498dadf425ce77a8ce081436e3cbb0 Read the full article

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Prompt: Vampire Chris drunk on blood?

CW: Drunkenness, drug addiction, blood drinking, vampirism, creepy abusive comfort, WWI-period-appropriate xenophobia and brief vague possible homophobia reference, dehumanization, war whump

"Now, that'll get you blotto faster'n French liquor," Kirk says, sinking back against the muddy trench wall, careless for the dirt caking itself into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His helmet lay beside him upside down on the ground, and his brown hair was free to explode in its wealth of curls, a kind of halo around his head. He had one arm out, sleeve rolled back. His hands were caked in mud and smeared with drying dirt - above the line of his sleeve, though, the skin was paper-white, almost clammy.

It was this white skin that the vampire's fangs were buried in.

"Shit, Holden, y'gotta have 'im bite you, too." Kirk's grin widens. The shells had gone silent but every man flinches, now and then, hearing a phantom sound or feeling a rumble beneath their feet.

At least it's finally stopped goddamn raining.

The venom rolls through Kirk's veins, soothing his jangled nerves. He can barely feel the trembling in his hands and it feels like his mind, when it's in him. He's a farm kid from western Nebraska, the second son and not needed so much as the first to bring the crops in. So here he is, learning to love the feeling of teeth in his skin.

Maybe when he gets shipped back home he'll stick to the cities. They say the vampires have their dens there, where they can hide. You can buy venom enough to quiet your mind for a day or two, the city boys tell him.

They're in it as deep as he is, now.

Feels like half the American army is itching for venom these days.

"No thank you. I'm not gonna get sent home and start chasing fangs like the rest of you." Holden squints, looking up into the dark sky, the rolling clouds that seem far too close to the ground. "It'll rain again soon."

"When isn't it going to rain again soon? Oh, right, when it's already bloody raining." That's a Brit, they just call him Tommy. No one knows his real name.

He claims to hate them all, but since half his unit was blasted apart two days ago, he's hung with the 'Yanks' close enough. Kirk thinks he's fond of them, even if he won't admit it. Or just scared to be alone. He can understand that. He's terrified of the thought himself. "Shove the little vamp over to me, Kirk, I want some."

The vampire pulls his fangs free, licking over the wounds he's made until they close. He's a skinny little thing, pale as paper with bright red hair they stuff under his helmet when he's running medic checks in No Man's Land, trying to make him less obvious. Sure, he can't die from gas, but he can be blown to bits by a whizz-bang fast as any living soldier can.

"Please," The vampire says, turning big green eyes up to Kirk. "I, I, I'm tired, please, can I sleep?"

He's got heavy dark circles under his eyes. It's kind of cute.

"No," Kirk answers, curt, shoving the vampire away by his head, watching him fall into the mud. His uniform is marked with it, now, a dab of dirt over the 'V' sewn next to his medic's cross. There's a satisfaction, in Kirk, just in seeing the little thing laid low.

He won't die in this war, and Kirk probably will, but before that happens he can at least hurt something he can see. You can't see old Fritz when you fire on him from a distance - but you can see a vampire flinch in the dirt. It's not much.

It's something.

"Must be daytime," Holden speaks up, still staring up at the clouds. "You can't tell, weather like this, but if the fangs're tryin' to sleep, must be day."

"He sleeps when we're done with him, and not a moment before." Kirk's voice is a murmur, eyes half-closed. He's drifting in it, the way the venom dulls and deadens the eternal ache in his back and legs. The Germans could come roaring over the bags right this second and Kirk wouldn't give a damn at all. Let them kill him, at least he can go with venom in his veins, not as a basket case carried off the field. "Not a second before. Go on, bloodsucker. Get over to Tommy and help him get some shut-eye, huh?"

"I've been drinking all night, pulled some rations off someone," Tommy groans, rubbing his fingers at his temples. "It's done no good at all." It's a funny little gesture, so oddly normal and casual. Reminds Kirk of home.

His throat tries to close, homesickness bowling him over. The wish to return to his mother's worn smile, sit down to dinner and have her ask him about his day, when his problems revolved around the harvest and the hard backs of the pews in church-

He takes a breath, forcing it back, and gives the vampire a vicious kick in the ribs, listening to his high-pitched cry and how he curls around himself with a smile of his own.

Oh, he'll die, probably. The others from his town already have. But he can remind himself he's still alive, for now. One way or another. He can cause pain he can't feel himself, for once.

"I said get over to Tommy and smooth out his sharp bits, bloodfuck."

"Yes, um, y-yes, Kirk," The vampire says, pulling himself onto his hands and knees. His fingers are smashed into the mud deep enough to nearly disappear. If they could only get a few days of sunlight to dry out all this dirt, it wouldn't be such hell.

As it is, his socks've been damp for weeks, his boots feel like they're caging his feet in a swamp. He's worried about trenchfoot and trying not to think about it. He stole these boots off a dead German when his own started to fall apart, anyway.

He could've probably gotten new ones, but... it had felt good, taking something from Fritz after Fritz took so much from him.

Kirk tries not to remember that the German soldiers he fights have never caused him a single moment's harm on purpose. They're only fighting for the same reasons he is - because someone higher up who doesn't give a damn about them said to.

Kirk had been all gung-ho for the war until he'd been sent over here to fight it. All those articles in the newspapers, all the speeches given by men standing in town squares... it had all made it seem so patriotic.

They never tell you, Kirk thinks bitterly, that you'll be sent into a slaughterhouse. They don't tell you you'll spend your day breaking a vampire's fingers one by one just to watch them heal back into place and listen to his little cries.

Just to pass the time.

"Trade me your flask while the fangs takes care of you," Kirk says, and Tommy hands it over easy enough.

He watches Tommy grab the vampire by one arm and yank him over, vicious and violent, making the vampire boy cry out again. The sound is starting to grate on Kirk's nerves. It makes him sound too human. He hates being reminded that every vampire used to be a person.

He drinks whatever's in the Brit's flask, and it burns down his throat just the way he needs it to. Wipes out his worries, relaxes shoulders that seem always to be tensed up nearly to his chin.

His mama's a teetotaler, back in Nebraska. He'd been one, too, until the first bombardment. Now he drinks anything he could get his hands on, and the officers mostly looked the other way.

"Bite," Tommy orders. Kirk raises his eyebrows when Tommy doesn't roll up his sleeve but pushes the vampire's face instead towards his neck, turning his head to the side to bare it.

His eyes meet Kirk's, and he smiles, bitterly. "Works faster this way," He explains. Kirk just watches as the vampire's fangs glint in the eternal dim twilight, hesitating before they bury themselves in Tommy's skin.

The little monster's back arches, pressing them chest-to-chest. A low rumble comes from somewhere deep inside, the animal sound the vampire makes during a good feed. He doesn't do it much with the regular unit any longer, they mocked him for it and one day he stopped.

The vampire's throat works as he drinks, and Tommy's arm slides around the monster's thin shoulders, forcing him closer. He's nearly kissing his forehead, this way.

It's an embrace, and altogether more intimate of one than Kirk thought he'd ever see from the cold, standoffish Brit. He feels a blush creeping up his neck and his cheeks as Tommy lets his head fall back, groaning softly in a kind of contentment as the venom hits. The sound isn't quite like a groan at all, it's more like-

"Fucking hell, Tommy, are you an invert?"

"Invert suggests I give a damn what bites me," Tommy replies, without opening his eyes. His slurred speech deepens, goes slow. His hand curves around the vampire's shoulder, holding him tightly. "I'm after oblivion, lads. I don't care what parts the fangs have that give it to me."

"Fang-chaser," Holden says, good-naturedly. Clearly not bothered the way Kirk is. Maybe that's just his farmboy past talking, that he's even unsettled at all. Maybe Tommy's got a point - who cares what's between a vampire's legs if you're only interested in the damn thing's mouth in the first place? "Fucking fang-chaser, that's what you are. End up in a den getting your hips bit like Oscar Wilde."

"Who's Oscar Wilde?"

Holden laughs. "You should try reading a book or three sometime, Kirk."

"Sure, sure, whenever I get the damn time in-between running over this blasted nothing. In any case, Tommy's definitely a fang-chaser."

"Guilty as charged... just like you two." Tommy's hand slides up into the vampire's hair, gripping tight and gently pulling backwards. The vampire's fangs slide free, and it laps at the wounds, rapidly. Tommy groans again. Kirk finds himself unable to look away at the bob of Tommy's throat. How good does it feel, in the neck? He's never thought to try it. He thinks about it now. "Turn me in to face discipline for unnatural relations with the fangs and I'll do the same to you."

"Yeah, yeah, we got it. Fucking Limey bastard." There's no real animosity in Kirk's voice. He's too distracted, drunkenly considering the vampire boy's mouth. Wondering if he knows how to kiss. "You shared your liquor, I shared our bloodsucker, we're both of us in it to our necks."

"Not me," Holden says, innocent and pure as the driven snow. As if he weren't the one to give Kirk the idea to use the venom in the first place.

Kirk throws a clot of mud at him, which he dodges, laughing. They're all laughing, soon enough, except for the fangs.

The vampire lays there, his head pressed to Tommy's chest and forcibly held in place by his arm. His eyes are slightly wide, unfocused, and Kirk leans forward.

"What's this, then? What'd you do to the fangs, Tommy?"

"Hm? Nothing. Oh, I'm pissed as can be, do they feel the liquor in your blood?"

"I'm guessing they sure do. You drunk, fangs?"

The vampire's eyes drift over to Kirk, move too far to one side, come back again. He swallows, thickly. "I... I think I, I, I am," He says, and tries to push back against Tommy's chest, to free himself.

The Brit's arm crushes him back into place, his other hand moving up to run through the vampire boy's dirt red hair, petting him like one of the ambulance dogs. Kirk and Holden laugh at the vampire's weakness. "Stay right where you are," Tommy murmurs. "Or I'll run you through with my bayonet and let you squirm all day."

"Christ," Kirk says, blinking. "That's a bit rough, isn't it?"

"He's not alive, what does it matter?" Tommy lets out a bitter little laugh. "Might as well get a preview of our own ends, shouldn't we?"

"You two, maybe." Holden crawls into the dugout, the little bed-space, a kind of cave dug in underneath the upper layers of the trench. He lays down on his back, closing his eyes, hands behind his head. "I'm going to go back home and never think of you lot ever again."

"I pray every night to make it home," Kirk says, nodding along. "Not sure anyone's listening, but I got to try, don't I?"

"What happens to the fangs, anyway?" The Brit looks up, rocking a little back and forth. As if the bloodsucker were a baby needing soothing. The vampire boy has relaxed against him, the liquor-laced blood he drank lulling him into a complacent bonelessness. Kirk watches the vampire boy's fingers start to tap over the Brit's chest, a strange movement he's seen the boy do before in his few relaxed moments between the scream of the shells. He hums, low in his throat, tuneless.

"Huh?" Kirk blinks. "What d'you mean, what happens to him?"

"After the war's done. What are they gonna do with the bloodsuckers? Can't exactly pin a bloody ribbon for valor on them and send them on their way, now can they?"

"Nope. I don't know what happens. Maybe they'll just stake them all and have done with them."

The vampire shudders, giving a little whimper. Tommy leans down, lips moving against the vampire's hair. "Ssssshhhh. Not to worry, little fangs. War's not over just yet, now is it?"

"N-... no. Not, not, not, not yet." The vampire's eyes close, pink-tinged tears creating pale tracks in his dirty face. He's a sad drunk, then, Kirk figures.

Aren't they all, these days.

"Maybe you'll outlive us all, and make fools of us for keeping you." Tommy speaks with a patronizing affection, as mocking as it is tender, petting through the creature's hair still. It's... unsettling to watch. Kirk had figured the Brits and French probably killed all their vamps, since they were all disturbed by the sight of the vampire medics when the doughboys first arrived in Europe.

This, though... this makes it seem like Tommy's known a vampire or two himself, in his life. And he's sure as fuck not unfamiliar to what venom is good for outside of giving relief from agony to the injured.

Kirk frowns, thoughtful.

He's turned into a thoughtful drunk, too, thanks to this goddamn war. Sad and thoughtful. What a fucking waste.

"Sleep," Tommy says, almost gently, to the drunk little vampire. "I've got you. Sleep, little one."

The vampire's eyes slip closed. He doesn't breathe - there's no sense of his chest rising and falling. Kirk has to look away before the sense of wrongness, watching Tommy cuddle a corpse, makes him sick.

He takes a long, long draught from the flask, and relishes the burn that reminds him he's human, and alive.

His own eyes slip shut, and he prays for an hour or two of sleep before the next screaming shell bursts overhead.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[emf005]

Disguised Part 1

Jack x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fights, angst

Hop you guys like! Sorry it took so long to get this out I have had one heck of a week.. lolol.. Please comment and let me know what you think!

Ten Years Earlier:

There were flames everywhere. As a seven year old you had no clue what was happening. It was hot, but it was winter. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs.

Your skin was alive with pain and stinging. You felt painfully numb. Was that even a feeling?

You coughed. And then coughed again, harder.

The room swam and you tripped over something, hitting the floor with full force. You stared at the door you had been searching for. There it was, finally. But out of reach. Why did it seem everything was always out of reach for you? Just too small to reach the top shelf, just too young to sit with the grown ups, just too female to do anything of importance…

Tears leaked from your eyes, and not just from physical pain.

The door opened and more smoke fled in. You heard footsteps running in and, with the last bit of energy you pushed yourself up. You saw the blurry edges of a familiar neighbor.

Charlie?

Then you passed out.

Xx

You woke up in a cot a few days later. Looking around the small room you realized that you were alone.

Where were you?

You heard voices and then footsteps. You shut your eyes tight again just as the door opened.

Someone sat down on your bed.

“I’s knows yous ain’t sleepin’.” Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Charles. A crutch leaned on the cot, but you didn’t pay mind. You jumped onto him, ignoring the pulling of your healing burns. You buried your head in his neck. He grabbed onto you and held you close, just as frightened as you, though he’d tell you he wasn’t. He was three years older than you and the brother you never had.

"What happened? Where am I? Where's mum and dad?" You asked. The questions pouring out of you. The last you saw them, they had been unconscious in the living room.

Instead of answering he just hugged you to his chest tighter…

Present day:

"Strike!" The Newsies, your unofficial brothers, screamed in response to Jack's very lengthy and moving monologue.

He leapt off the stage and started talking to Charles… Well, Crutchie now. He hadn't gone by that name since the fire happened and you two became newsies.

Nobody knew you were a girl and you preferred to keep it that way… although, A bit of extra attention from a certain Jack Kelly wouldn't be so bad. But beggars can't be choosers.

You watched as Katherin Plummer walked up to him and you felt your stomach drop. Rich, pretty, and successful. How could you beat that? Especially when he didn’t know you were a girl and he didn’t know your feelings.You sighed and walked to meet up with them, tasseling Race’s hair as you walked by him. He shoved you and you laughed.

“Hey!” You leaned on Crutchie’s shoulder as you joined the group. “Beautiful speech, Jacky-boy,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’s think you’s gotta future as a politician.”

“Oh hardy hardy har, Scabs.”

Scabs.

Your name.

It was pretty appropriate for a few reasons. When you and Crutchie first joined you had healing burn marks and cuts all over your body. All of them scabbing. You also always had some sort of cut on you. That you were picking at, hence all your scars. Being a newsie, especially one with a big secret, caused a lot of anxiety, you couldn’t help it.

You smirked at him and shook your head.

“So, wheres we go from here?”

“That's a question for Davey.”

“Well, where is-” before you could get your statement out, chaos broke out. You turned around to see the Delancies break into the theatre with cops on their heels. You swore, and Jack pulled Katherine to get her out of the way. She willingly applied.

Delicate little-

You didn’t get to finish your thought before you had started shoving the cops and Delancies, entering the brawl with full force.

You watched as all the boys started to get their asses kicked and then get out of the theatre. You and Jack somehow ended up side by side, fighting the delancies as the cops chased after the others. But then you saw him.

Snider the Spider stared Jack down, an evil grin on his face.

Not on your watch.

“Jack, get outta here!” You screamed. Jack looked at you.

“No!”

“Jack! Just do it!”

“But-”

“GO!” He was so startled that he dodged his last punch and ran up into the catwalk of Medda’s place. You fought off the Delancies and ran. Turning around only when you herald CRutchie scream for mercy.

You turn and see the delancies and Spider standing over him.

“Crutch!” You scream and run back over even faster than you had running away, barreling over sand bags and loose wires.

The Delancies and Snider watched you and left CRutchie alone coming after you instead. You watched as Crutchie crawled away.

Morris came at you with a swing. You easily dodged it and threw him into his brother who stumbled back into Snider. You laughed and turned, about to make your get away. Instead you ran straight into an officer who threw you back onto the floor. Morris and Oscar attacked, like hungry piranhas, though they at least were prettier and smelled better.

You felt pain erupt all over you until it was gone and you felt nothing, saw nothing, and for a few hours were nothing…

Xx

Jack stumbled back into the Manhattan Newsies’ terf. The boys were all hanging around, checking on each other after the brawl.

He couldn’t believe they got Crutchie.

“Damn Crip,” he mumbled, shaking his head, not knowing what to do next.

“Jack!” he looked up when Race called his name. He came running up to him. “Jack, where Scab?”

“Scab?” Jack’s eyes widened. No. They couldn’t have gotten you, too. You-you had run. He saw you.

He heard the familiar Thunk Thunk of a crutch. He looked up and saw Crutchie a bit battered, but alive and here.

“Crutchie!?” The crippled boy swallowed, tears in his eyes.

“They-they got ‘er, Jack.” he rasped out. “Jack-they they got ‘er.”

He collapsed, his crutch falling out from under him. Jack caught him and Race left, letting them talk alone.

“Who’s her, Crutchie? WHo’s got her? How did you escape?” Crutchie swallowed.

“Y/N, they got, Y/N.”

“Who has her,” Jack said, a bit confused not knowing Crutchie had himself a girl.

“Snider!” He exploded, hitting Jack’s chest. “They got ‘er, Jack! They got ‘er.” He sobbed, his voice breaking.

“Ok, ok. How did he get your girl, Crutchie. Just calm down and explain it.” Crutchie stared at him for a second not understanding why he was acting like he was until he realized he used your real name.

Crutchie settled himself and took a breath.

“Jack, Y/N is Scab.” Jack stared at his friend for a moment.

“What?’ Crutches sighed and lowered himself to the ground.

“I think you need to have a seat, Jack.

Xx

You had woken up in the refuge, staring at the ceiling, a thin stream of moonlight streamed through the small barred slit in the wall that was considered a “window”. You were almost as wanted as Jack was. Only the best accommodations for the Enemy number 2, right?

You sighed and shivered as the wind blew in and froze your toes, the scratchy, old, thin blanket doing nothing to protect you.

“Y/N!” You look up to see Crutchie at the slit in the wall. You eyes widen and you spring up, running to him.

“Crutch! What are you doin’ here. Are you dumb or something?”

“I needed to make sure you were ok, kid.” You sighed. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you put your head on the bars. “How are the boys? Everyone makes it out alright?”

“Yeah, but I have someone who wants ta see ya.”

He stepped out of the way and revealed Jack. You stared at him and knew immediately that he knew. That Crutchie had told him. You had never wanted to kill the boy who was like your brother more in your life.

“Hey, Scab, how ya doin’?”

“You told him,” you glared at Crutchie and he looked away, not being able to meet your eyes. “The hell, Crutch!” You shouted as loud as you dared. Snider was listening… always was… and you didn’t want to get the boys caught.

“Scab-er-Y/N, are you ok?” Jack asked, concern filling his expression. You looked at him, grateful for the street lights that hid your face, yet illuminated his.

“I’m fine, Jack. Did anyone else get caught?”

They shook their heads and you sighed.

“Good.” You heard footsteps coming down the hall. You looked over your shoulder and swallowed. They heard you. They had to of.”You guys should get going.”

“But-”

“Do yous wanna get caught?” he swallowed and shook his head.

“We’ll get you outta here.”

“No, Jacky-boy, I don’t think you will. Do the strike and do it good. Win.” He opened his mouth to object, but you looked at Crutchie. “Get ‘im and yourself outta here before yous get caught.” He looked down and tugged Jack’s sleeve, pulling him away from you. As they made their way down the fire escapes he caught a glimpse of you in the light and his eyes widened with horror as he took in your face. Bloodied, bruised, and puffy. They had got you good… and that was not going to fly...

[biisexualemma]

pretend pt.2. oscar diaz

word count: 1328

warnings: no? lots of fluff

requested: yes by many and thank u

plot: oscar does some confessing

a/n: hope you like this? hope it lives up to the hype that was part 1 hehe ah anyway read read read i kinda hate this but i can’t overthink it anymore it needs to be out there so i hope u don’t hate it

pt.1 / pt.3

masterlist

"don't think i forgot," you mumbled into his ear. you sat on his lap, his hand on your waist holding you steady. you were relaxed, leaning back against him as he joked with his friends at another one of these parties. you were getting pretty comfortable with being his girlfriend, it felt natural now to always be in some sort of contact with him.

you caught his attention, he turned to face you as his friends continued their conversation. he wore a soft smile on his lips, his eyebrows twitching into a frown as he thought about what you had said.

"forgot what?" he mumbled back, his eyes watching you. he found himself glued to you. he noticed how pretty you looked, especially up close like this. he found that the more time you spent together like this, the longer he found himself staring. he had to pull himself out of this kind of trance. he squeezed your waist gently, prompting your answer.

"you promised we could leave after eleven," you propped your head up with your arm leaning against the back of the chair. you were looking down at him, letting a small pout fall on your lips. "it's almost eleven and i'm tired."

oscar nodded, his hand moving to your thigh and giving it a squeeze in an act of comfort. he could tell by the look on your face that you'd had enough.

"yeah— no, i know," he tilted his head back so his face lined up with yours again, and you leaned down pressing a quick kiss to his lips. you were both pretty used to acting like this now when you were together in public. oscar often forgot it wasn't real sometimes, but he never would tell you that. "go get your stuff and we'll go."

you hummed an mmkay and did as he said, hopping off his lap and beginning the search for where in this big house you had left your belongings.

oscar watched you walk away, his attention snapping back to the party when you were out of sight. and as soon as he did, he noticed a pair of long legs now standing in front of him. his eyes travelled up until he saw the ex-girlfriend. his expression changed ever so slightly. it was the first time he'd seen her up close since they'd broken up. he found himself comparing her to you. she didn't have your freckles.

"oh," he furrowed his brows a little. he wasn't expecting to see her like this. he got to his feet, standing pretty close to her now. "hey?"

"hey," she nudged his arm, wearing a warm smile. she was as beautiful as he remembered but at the same time something was very different. "it's been a while."

he nodded, gulping. he'd gone to extraordinary lengths to get to this point and now he was here, something was off. it felt strange— wrong. yet, he stood still in front of her, almost in shock of the situation.

she was still smiling at him. "i saw y/n run off so i thought now was my chance to get you alone," he didn't like the way that sounded. "you guys are kinda inseparable," she let out a breathy laugh, touching his arm.

"yeah, kinda," he pursed his lips. he suddenly felt like he wanted this conversation to be over and done with. he found himself wondering where you were and what was taking so long. "why'd you need to see me alone?"

"i just want to talk, about us," she shrugged. he glanced down at her hand leaning on his arm, before looking back at her again. he knew he should be thrilled that his game had worked, but he just wasn't. it was all becoming very clear to him. "you wanna get out of here?"

he didn't answer, he blinked, baffled that she had the guts to ask him that when you had only been gone ten minutes. instead, he spotted you across the room. you caught his attention and he found it hard to turn it back to the girl in front of him.

her eyebrows furrowed, noticing that his attention was elsewhere. she glanced over her shoulder, watching you stand around with your jacket tucked under your arms, waiting patiently for oscar. a little annoyed, she huffed. "you can't seriously be interested in her?"

he frowned, shrugging her hand from his arm. that was all he needed to realise that he'd been holding onto something that wasn't there. he saw that plain and clear now.

"i am. not that's it's any of your business," he shrugged, scoffing. "and i'd chose her over you, any day."

she let out a humph, crossing her arms over her chest. clearly she hadn't anticipated this response. "you're making a mistake."

"yeah, alright," he was hardly listening to what she was saying anymore. instead, your eyes finally met his, a small frown falling on your face as you tried to figure out who he was talking to. "see you around, or not, i don't care," he mumbled, nudging passed her and walking over to you.

he seemed to now understood everything from the past few weeks. he understood the feeling he got when you would laugh loudly, when your eyelids drooped when you were tired, even when you'd scrunch up your face when you were mad. all it took was one conversation to realise that it wasn't this ex he had pining for this whole time.

"who was that?" your eyebrows still knitted together softly, peaking round his stature to catch a glimpse of their face. oscar just grabbed your forearm, squeezing gently as he did.

"no one," he shook it off. "ready to go?" you felt a little unsettled with his response but chose to let it go. oscar had never lied to you for all the years you'd known him, you didn't suspect he'd start now. if he said it was no one, then it was no one.

he drove you home in silence. you sat there the whole time trying to figure out what happened to make him so quiet so suddenly. something had to have happened in the ten minutes you'd left him alone.

"you haven't said a word to me since we left," you spoke up, just as he pulled up outside his house. "are you mad 'cause i made you leave early?"

he sighed when you said this. his hands dropped from the wheel and into his lap, he didn't know where to go from here. he couldn't keep this act up now that the conditions had changed. he couldn't not tell her.

"i don't understand?" you frowned. "what's wrong?" you gently nudged his arm, urging him to say something. oscar wasn't a very vocal guy at the best of times, but this was different. you could sense something had changed.

"nothing's wrong," he shook his head.

you furrowed your brows. he wouldn't look at you, instead he stared straight ahead, his eyes shifting every now and again. it was confusing to say the least. you leaned closer to him, touching his shoulder so he would look at you.

he couldn't focus on this conversation when he had so much to think about. you two had been friends for so long, him harbouring this crush would wreck everything. fake dating didn't count towards anything. not for you anyway. he could tell you weren't ready to hear what he was really thinking.

"i need to tell you something," his hand touched yours where it sat on his shoulder. he moved so he held your hand in his. you frowned when he did this, worried it was much worse than making him leave the party early.

"you can tell me anything," you squeezed his hand, as he did so often with you. he watched your contorted face.

he nodded and before he could stop himself, he spoke. "i think i'm falling in love with you."

[spookysmujer]

Peaches, O. Diaz

Summary: Oscar and Y/N spend a pleasurable night together.

warnings:  s m u t 🥵 18+. public s e x, unprotected s e x 

word count: 2.3k

A/N: Fina-fkn-ly I have written Oscar smut! You would think with this blog dedicated around him that I would have done so already. Who doesn’t like the Santos party + sex? I am not @youare-mysonshine​, who has the best damn Oscar smut on this site, I am but her apprentice, LOL. Enjoy! And please don’t forget to follow, heart, comment, reblog and turn on those notifs for when I post something new. Lots of love!! Thank you for +800 followers!

(gif credit goes to @merakiaes 🦋)

“So it took your brother being shot for you to come around?”

You hear from behind you, as you swivel in your spot there is the man of the hour. Spooky is celebrating his 25th birthday and a victory in showing Prophet$ what’s good with last nights showdown.

A small smile forms on your lips as you briefly look away from him to avoid the red hue on your cheeks worsening. Oscar definitely has a way with women, it doesn’t take much for him to have the ladies swooning, or on their knees. And it’s no secret he prefers the latter. 

“Yeah, it’s definitely not for the reason of you make it to half a century”. He now stands in front of you, one hand in his pocket as the other holds his beer close to him. It’s a moment of silence, him looking down at you and you up at him.

When your brother, known as Joker, begged you to come home for a weekend you were hesitant too. And with how things went down, you were right to be. Shit had gone down on Santos turf resulting in your brother getting hit but nothing compared to what the Prophet$ got handed back to them. And all in the weekend that Oscar’s birthday bash is happening too.

“Good, I was hoping that was the reason. ‘Ridge been boring without you around. How’s life been up in Bakersfield?” He asks you as you two begin a small walk around the house to a quieter setting.

You shrug as you kick gravel around, “As good as you can guess. But my business degree is being put to use. So not long til I can repay for you the loan you gave my brother for me. Promise.”

He shakes his head after taking a swig of beef, his mouth pressed together tightly, lips licking the remaining that lingered. Damn. “Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Whenever you can.”

A small laugh from you, “People are gonna think you got a soft spot for me doing that kind of shit.”

“Let um think that they want. They wouldn’t be wrong.” He keeps his line of sight  in front of him as you look to him. You both lean against his impala as the soft moonlight reflects of the shiny paint of the red car.

After staring at him for a moment, you look away as he takes his turn at looking at you, his eyes burn into you as you clear your throat, “Careful.”

“What?” He grins at you with his signature grin.

You can feel your cheeks burn hotter by the second. And you also know that Oscar knows what he is doing, you’ve seen him do it to other girls.That look that seals the deal and then he is leading them into house. Probably notable that most of those girls plan on getting in bed with him from the moment they arrive. 

“That. You know what you’re doing and I am not like all them girls that you’ve banged in there.” You point to the house as you take a swig of your half empty beer. Oscar audibly laughs as he pushes himself off car.

He downs the last of his beer and tosses it to the trashcan across the way. You watch it as he moves to stand in front of you. This makes you correct your posture as he moves in even closer, lessening the open space between the two of you.

Oscar licks his lips, ever so slowly. He wipes his mouth of any remaining alcohol and places his hands on the car, each on the side of you, “That’s what I like about you. That you aren’t like them. You don’t come around here in hopes of some action. And if I’m being honest? That shit is attractive to me, knowin’ I gotta get you.” 

“Get me? You’re real smooth, y’know?” You scan his face, eyes staring into his as he grins, leaning in til you feel his breath his your lips. 

But the truth is, he is smooth. “Mmm.” He hum as he closes that space and your lips are on his. The chaste kiss is held for a moment before you both start to kiss each other, open mouth and quickly are your tongues dancing.

“Yo, Spooky finally gon hit Joker’s fine ass sister!”

You hear loudly, pulling back and turning around to see one of the Santos standing near the house. You groan as you flip him off and cover your face with your hands, “So get the fuck away, foo.” Oscar says with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The Santo laughs backing away with his hands up in defense. Though partially embarrassed, you can’t help but laugh. Oscar’s hands rest on your hips, rubbing gently and pulling you back to lean against his body. He doesn’t say anything else, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. Trailing kisses til he reaches your neck where you know there will be markings the next day.

Oscar’s hands feel your body, rising up your torso to cup your breasts. All of it, leaning against him, his hands, the kisses... it’s all too much to not react so when you moan, he laughs and kisses your neck more. One of his hands leave your body and pulls your face to the left and his lips meet yours.

While you two kiss you grab his other hand, bravely pushing down towards your heat. He doesn’t waste anytime and slips his hand in your shorts feeling you over you underwear, your body feeling weak when he massages your sensitive bud.

“W-we gotta go inside.” You mumble against lips and you feel him smile, his hand in your pants dipping lower to spread your arousal, earning more moans. “Nah, mami. Just relax, those foos not gonna come out here again.”

That’s when he releases you and steps back, you pout at the absence of his touch. You turn around as he grabs the waistband of your jean shorts and swiftly pulls them down to your knees, you gasp loudly trying to reach down to pull them back up, “Are you crazy? I’m not gonna fuck you out here. I don’t care if your homies won’t come back here, you have neighbors and I’m woman enough for you to take me inside!” 

He only laughs, picking you up to sit on the car, the cool metal making you squirm, “No one can see us, just trust me. I ain’t tryna fuck you out here, just curious.” Oscar unbuttons his flannel and pulls it off, balling it up and putting it behind you, pushing you back to lay your head on it as a pillow. He swiftly pulls off your shorts and spreads your legs, his finger hooking your panties to the side, “Oh my god, I cannot believe you are gonn-”

His tongue against your clit shut you up quickly. It causes your breath to hitch and words lost as he licks more swipes against your heat. He tortures you with the way he does it slowly, but the sensation feels like bliss, “Sweet as peaches, mamas.”

You feel relaxed, letting your legs rest comfortably over his shoulders. His lips covering your entire cunt now, tongue swirling on your clit and then dipping down into your entrance. And when he pulls back then back down to suck on your swollen bud like sweet nectar, your back arches. And you’ve had guys go down on your before, but something about the way he does it. He doesn’t shove his fingers in like you are use to having and it makes the moment more enjoyable.

“What no extra pleasure with your fingers? Fuck.” You squeeze your breast together, eyes closed. Thanking sweet baby Jesus in heaven! “You gonna tell me how to pleasure you? I know what I’m doing. Shhh.” 

He bites the inside of your thigh, a moan let out a little too loud. You cover your mouth with your hand. You sit up on your elbows to watch him work his way to your release but the darkness makes it hard to see much, “Take me inside.”

Oscar licks your cunt once more before leaning up to kiss you, your arousal on his tongue and lips, “Ever taste yourself before, hm?” He kisses you more not letting you answer.

“Hm, yeah. I’ve tasted other girls too, but you’re right, mine is sweet like peaches.” You whisper as you peck his lips then looking into his eyes, his mouth slightly agape at your confession. You’re smirking as your hands move under his tank to feel his skin.

He doesn’t say anything as he collects your shorts and his flannel, picking you up and placing you on his shoulder, your ass cheeks bare in just your lace thong. “Oh my gosh, Oscar!”

Oscar smacks your ass he walks to the two of you into his house. You won’t lie to yourself that you’ve fantasized about getting into bed with him. The guy is not just beautiful being but sexy as fuck as well and he knows it too.

He drops you on his bed and rids himself of his tank, you doing the same. He climbs onto the bed and hovers over you, you wrapping your legs over his hips pulling his face down to kiss you. No more slow moving, no more games. It’s freaky business NOW.

You reach your hand between the two of you to feel him through his pants. And he does not disappoint in his size. You unbuckle his annoyingly long belt, finally getting it free for you to unbutton his jeans. You move your hand inside and wrap your hand on his semi-hardened member, stroking it entirely. He groans into your mouth as you do so. 

“I’m wet and you’re hard, com’n.”

 He stops kissing you and reaches between the two of you to take your hand out of his pants. He shimmies out of it and sits up to remove your panties. And with your demand to hurry, he spits on your mound and smears it around before guiding himself in.

The slight burn passes quickly as the pleasurable sensation hits you soon after. You bite your lip as Oscar stands at the foot of the bed, moving your legs up to rest against him. He starts slowly for the two of you to get familiar with the feeling of each other.

You arch your back to reach under to unclasp your bra. He marvels at your tits as you kneed them, looking at him in the eyes with lust, “Show me how Spooky fucks, Papi.” The sultry way you say his street name makes him hold your legs against him tighter.

And he pushes himself into you as deep as he can possibly go and out just as fast, hitting your cervix and creating a pleasurable pain that you’ve not experienced before. His hips like a piston, drilling you into his bed so much so that you’re sure there’ll be a indentation when he is done with you.

“Oh. shiiii, mhm.” You moan out, gripping the sheet on the sides of you, biting down on your lip to suppress the moan that is threatening to escape. His low moans isn’t helping you either, you can’t hold it in.

This only makes Oscar grin when you moan out loud and he loves it. “Hm, louder, bebecita. Let them hear how good Spooky fucks you.”

His voice when pleasuring you is an entirely different thing, it added to the already overload of goodness you are receiving from him. Oscar, or Spooky you should say, pushes your legs apart so that he can climb on top of you, him still inside you as you scoot closer to the headboard. Once your head is on the pillows, you rest your legs wider to give him the adequate space he’ll need for a good pounding.

Once his hands grip the headboard, it is game over for you. He is angling his hips to hit spots you never knew you had, deep and slow for one moment and then at speed lighting the next. With the different speeds it leads you feeling the building sensation. It saddened you that you are reaching your peak so quick.

“I-I’m gonna cum.” You tell him and he releases the headboard, sliding his hands underneath you, gripping the flesh of your ass. It confuses you for moment, as he snuggles his face into your neck. But when he begins to drill you into oblivion, you gasp loudly. His low grunts into your ear, his hot breath harshly hitting the side of your neck.

Skin slapping and animalistic groans. Oscar can feel how close you are, your walls squeezing him like a vice, “Fuck, cum. I’m about to.” He mumbles.

As if his wish is your body’s command, the feeling hits you harshly. You clench onto him, your arms hooking under his and nails digging into his back, “Oh! oh! Yes, fuck yes!” The orgasm hits you harder than you expect.

Oscar groans once more before pushing himself up and grabbing himself, pumping his length only for a short moment when his seed spurts onto your slick with sweat torso. His eyes close and head tipped back, “Fuck.”

Still lost in a haze you release a deep breath, maneuvering yourself to get a taste of him. From the source. You take his entire length in his mouth, the after sex sensitivity hitting him, he flinches but watches you swallow him whole.

“Hm, I gotta get you to cum in my mouth next time, hm?” You sit up on your knees and he backs off the bed, handing you a towel to wipe yourself clean, he only laughs.

“Nena, who says we’re done here?”

[smutbymia]

Can I request a smut where y/n is Jaehyun's ex and they become successful by their own.One day they met at an award show or red carpet or something and Jaehyun just regret it.Thankyou 😚

Jaehyun stood with his group members in a line, posing for the flashing lights that shuttered from the dozens of cameras lined up behind the barricade in front of them. They were styled to perfection for the night, in preparation for their red carpet appearance at the Oscars. After participating in the soundtrack of a nominated film, the boys of NCT 127 found themselves attending the most prestigious film event of the year -- something they hadn’t thought they’d ever get the opportunity to do. 

They each had smiles plastered across their faces as they slowly shifted their gazes across the sea of photographers, moving from section to section on the carpet alternating between photo-ops and quick interviews with the press.

Jaehyun tugged at the front of his black tuxedo and straightened his bow tie while standing tall as Johnny chatted away with an interviewer just as he heard commotion at the other end of the carpet. He watched out of the corner of his eye when the photographers seemed to move in the same direction of the excitement.

Jaehyun shrugged it off, still trying his hardest to continue focusing on his groups interview. It wasn’t until he heard the voice of a photographer shout your name that his entire demeanour finally shifted. The cool, calm, collected image he had upheld all night began to falter. He watched as Mark — who was stood on the opposite end of the line lifted his gaze to peer discretely past Jaehyun’s head in your direction after clearly hearing your name as well. His eyes met Jaehyuns as he gave him a warning look. A look that told him to keep it together because there were millions of people at home watching through the cameras that were capturing every moment in real time, and broadcasting live across the world. 

Jaehyun tried his best, he really did. But he couldn’t resist any longer. He turned his head to look back at you. You stood on the marked spot of the runway in front of the cameras in a floor length white gown that made you look as though you had stepped out of Heaven itself. Your leg dangled out from in between the slit of the stress and your hair cascaded down your back. You took your position before alternating between a series of poses as you worked the cameras. Compliments spilled out from behind the cameras as paparazzi bombarded you with instructions on where to look -- to the right, to the left, up high for the ones in the back row, etc. 

As you shifted your gaze to a different section of photographers you mistakenly met Jaehyun’s own. The two of you locked eyes — with you pulling away at first, completely taken aback by your exes presence. Jaehyun however kept his gaze on you and continued watching intently as you worked the red carpet.

“Jaehyun?” the reporter called, as her voice interrupted his thoughts of you.

“H-huh? I’m sorry!” he said before flashing a dimpled smile and making the interviewer melt, “there’s just so much going on. The red carpet is so exciting!” he chuckled, and just like that he was in the clear — sort of. The interview wrapped up shortly after and all was well before the rest of the members gave him a knowing look once the cameras were no longer rolling. 

Jaehyun sighed deeply, glancing back at you once more as he admired your bright smile that was on full display during an interview. He missed you, he thought to himself. 

You had dated for a few months before you decided to move to LA. Originally the plan was to stay in Korea and settle down with Jaehyun but after he failed to uphold the promises he had made about finally going public with your relationship you decided that you couldn’t put your life on hold anymore for him. No one, especially you, deserved to be somebody else’s  secret. 

You moved out to LA and pursued acting. In just a few years you had finally worked your way up in the industry and were notorious for playing lead roles in indie films by some of the best directors in Hollywood who had grown tired of casting the more well known stars. Ironically that is what had turned you into a household name — as you completely found your niche within the genre.

But how did it feel seeing the boy you were more than willing to give up on your dreams for? Surprisingly you were okay. It hadn’t been easy and you needed to work through a lot of your issues over the years to get to a place where your pain and resentment towards your ex no longer consumed you. Being in such close proximity with your ex and feeling confident was certainly an improvement, you thought to yourself. 

Besides, you had found your own footing in the world and your own level of success as well. Though you both were famous celebrities, you both existed in two different worlds that rarely met -- until now. Maybe it was inevitable that one day the two of you would cross paths again. 

You blew through your interviews as others arrived on the carpet and within minutes were being ushered into the theatre by staff who were working on seating guests for the award show. You stood aimlessly by the open bar in the waiting area as your manager chattered away with the publicist of some other up and coming celebrity. 

You raised your hand gracefully to wave down a bartender who seemed to fail to notice your efforts at grabbing his attention. You sighed deeply before giving up and dropping your hand back down against the cool counter of the bar in defeat. You were hoping to get a few drinks in your system before having to sit through yet another boring ceremony. Suddenly you felt the presence of a large body behind you. You titled your head upwards to the arm that was raised high above you as the bartender finally walked over in your direction. 

“How can I help you two?” he asked. Flustered, you tripped over your words as you turned around, coming face to face with Jaehyun who seemed to be staring directly into your soul. You froze, and watched as he turned to speak to the bartender. Within minutes, two identical cocktails were slid across the counter. You sighed as you watched jaehyuns slender fingers wrap around the base of his glass as you mirrored his action.

Just then a photographer approached the two of you inquiring about a photo op. You smiled sheepishly as onlookers directed their attention to you. It’s not like you could refuse. Not on a night like this. It would look terrible on your part. So instead you stepped closer to Jaehyun and though he hesitated slightly, you felt his hand rest on the small of your back.

You offered up a sheepish smile as he remained stoned face as he usually did in pictures at events like this. After a few clicks and a few extra stares the photographer moved on. Jaehyuns members lingered by as they tried not to make it too obvious how surprised they were at the interaction. Once it was over they swooped in almost immediately.

Many of them offered you quick greetings but it was Mark who lingered to speak with you as they managed to create some distance between you and Jaehyun.

He spoke quickly and quietly. From the perspective of outsiders it looked like harmless mingling but his words carried weight.

“We can all tell that he misses you a lot, y/n. But we’ll do our best to make sure he doesn’t get in your way anymore,” he stated. Your heart froze at the new revelation.

You opened your mouth, hesitating a little before you spoke. “It’s okay,” you began, “it was a long time ago. I’m okay. You don’t have to coddle me.”

It was true that Mark had a tendency to get that way. Him and Johnny knew better than anyone else what had happened between you and Jaehyun and the two scolded him every chance they could get about the way your relationship turned out. They were all your friends before the romance between you and Jaehyun blossomed.

“It’s not you that we are trying to protect this time,” Mark confessed, “to be honest, it’s Jaehyun. He took it hard. Even though he knew it was his fault he suffered a lot and is full of regrets. We know you’re doing well now but... he hasn’t really been the same.”

You looked over Marks shoulder and locked eyes with Jaehyun who was engaged in what seemed like a deep conversation with Johnny that you were sure must have been similar to the one Mark was having with you right now.

His expression was downcast, yet stern. He seemed bothered by what he was hearing. You were almost certain Johnny was telling him to keep his distance from you but you couldn’t help the feeling in your heart... a feeling that made you wish you could hear these things directly from him instead.

The rest of the night proceeded accordingly though you couldn’t shake the feeling in your stomach. Good thing you were an actress because between presenting and carrying home your first award, you needed to really sell the fact that tonight was the best night of your life despite the fact that you were hurting a bit inside.

Next was the after party and yes, it was intense. Drug and alcohol fueled events were a regular occurrence in Hollywood and soon enough everyone was under the influence of something. There was a reason it was kept in the most exclusive hotel in the city and that reason was because people usually got so fucked up that the convenience of being able to be one elevator ride away from their beds was a complete blessing.

You called it a night quite early. You drank congratulatory drink after drink and decided that it was far better to leave while you could still somewhat see clearly. You had made your excuses and encouraged your team to stay around to party as you went back up to your room alone to get ready for bed.

You were all changed into a silk nightgown when there was a knock at the door. Figuring it was just room service, you went ahead and opened it up but to your surprise Jaehyun stood there alone. He leaned against the door frame with a half empty bottle of wine in his fist as his head hung low.

“Congratulations on your award,” he slurred as he held the bottle out to you. You were in complete shock. You poked your head past the door, hoping no one had seen him standing there. You planned on telling him to leave when you heard the dinging of the elevators bell as voices rang out down the hall. In a moment of pure panic you quickly dragged him by the collar of his coat into the room and slammed the door shut behind the two of you.

Jaehyun giggled. “Do you miss me that much?” He asked as he reached for your waist. Locking you in his embrace.

“Jaehyun are you crazy? You can’t just show up at my door like that. Lots of people are staying on this floor. Someone could have seen!” you scolded.

He placed the bottle down on a piece of furniture before putting the palm of his hand to your cheek.

“I’ve always been crazy haven’t I? Who would have thought it would be you wanting to keep us from being seen... after all this time,” he said as his voice dropped.

Your breathing became laboured as his eyes gazed deeply into yours.

“I’m so sorry. I should have never kept you a secret,” he confessed. “I regret trying to hide you from the world. Now that they get to see you, they get to love you too. Everyone who gets the pleasure of getting to know you always ends up loving you, don’t they?” he asked. He offered up a weak smile as the dimples in his cheeks went on full display again.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say,” you answered. You covered his hands with yours as you drew it away from your face. You could see the sadness return to his expression.

Jaehyun blinked a few times. “Ah, I think getting so emotional just sobered me up a bit,” he winced as you watched his cheeks begin to blush.

“Mark and Johnny are going to be really upset with me when they find out that I came up here. I’m sure they already know by now,” he said. Jaehyun still held you in his grasp. You attempted to pull away but he refused to let you go.

“Please...” he pleaded as he felt you try to put distance between the two of you “please, y/n. Let me at least hold you for a little bit longer.”

He let out a deep sigh before engulfing you in a hug. You hesitated before wrapping your arms around his neck and could feel him relaxing under your touch instantly. Jaehyuns hands ran down the small of your back and grabbed at your waist as you could feel the desperation and yearning in his touch.

What was only a hug started to feel more intimate. Before you could stop yourself, you felt your hands yearning for more of him too. You ran one of your hands up the nape of his neck and into his hair as he burried his face into your neck — the warmth of his breath on your skin sending tingles down your spine. Your back arched slightly in response, causing your chest to press into his.

Jaehyuns hands travelled a bit lower, resting dangerously close to your butt and it was enough to draw a reaction from you. You sucked in air between your lips, before letting out a soft gasp. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. You cursed yourself for falling into his trap so quickly but his energy was intoxicating.

Jaehyuns lips brushed lightly against your neck before you felt him press them against your skin, giving you soft kisses on the delicate flesh. Your breathing became heavier. You made no effort to stop him. Your body reacted on its own as you titled your head to give him more access to you.

“Good girl,” he encouraged softly as he alternated between soft kisses and the dragging of his tongue up towards your ear. You whimpered as you felt yourself officially cave. There was no way you could stop now. Not when it had been so long since you last felt like this.

He dragged his teeth back across your skin, nipping softly at the flash before dropping one his hands to palm your ass. You let out a soft moan in response as you felt his hardness grow against your stomach. Jaehyun lifted his head away from you before locking you in his gaze once more. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scanned your face.

You watched him through hooded eyes, with your cheeks flushed red as he leaned in to capture your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. You moaned against his mouth as his tongue forced itself past your lips. You suckled softly on his tongue as his hands explored the rest of your body.

This time you took the lead, deepening the kiss and dragging him with you back towards the bed in your hotel room. You pushed off his coat and tugged at the buttons of his shirt as you continued to move backwards. When you felt the duvet covers on the back of your legs you sunk down into the mattress pulling him towards you as you moved to unbotton his pants, keeping your eyes firmly locked with his.

Once he was free he discarded the rest of his clothing with ease. Jaehyun stood before you, panting softly, naked body on full display as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck...” you sighed. You could feel your nipples harden underneath the fabric of your nightgown while you tried your hardest to stop your eyes from wandering again.

Jaehyun’s lips turned up at the corners for what seemed like a mere second before his gaze went dark again. He stepped forward and reached for your face to run his thumb against your bottom lip. You couldn’t stop yourself from allowing your mouth to fall open slightly, inviting his finger to slip past your lips and across your tongue.

You suckled softly. Jaehyun used his other hand to slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders one by one. Your eyes never left his while you felt the fabric fall to your waist, leaving you topless. You stood up, mouth still full and eyes still locked to let it fall to your feet, leaving you naked.

Jaehyun’s free hand immediately grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer to his body and with a pop he removed his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with more fingers before finally switching to a kiss. Your tongue danced around his eagerly.

You jumped at the feeling of jaehyuns damp fingers against your clit as he wasted no time prepping you. Moaning against his lips, the two of you moved back towards the bed — this time, with Jaehyun settling in between your legs.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly. Your chest rose and fell with each passing second as you waited for him to speak again — fingers still brushing against your clit as you moaned quietly.

“I ruined everything. But, I want to make it up to you. Even if it’s just this once. Even if it’s the last chance I get. So be good for me, okay? Just for a little while longer” he said as he lowered himself to your core.

You were a writhing mess as you waited for his tongue to finally connect with your flesh and when it did... fireworks.

Maybe it had been too long or maybe he just knew your body better than anyone else but within seconds you could feel yourself getting closer to your peak. Jaehyun flattened his tongue against your lips, running it up and down your slit at a sensual pace. It was so good, but not nearly enough. He was teasing you and pleasing you all at once.

On occasion he would flick himself against your clit, watching as your body convulsed at the contact before pulling away again and watching you slowly get further away from your orgasm once more.

“M-more, please,” you begged as you reached your hands between your legs to rope in jaehyuns hair. He continued to work at your core before lifting his head slightly. You raised your hips to chase after him, not wanting to lose contact, as he chuckled to himself softly.

“I’m being rude, aren’t I?” he taunted as he teasingly ran two fingers down your slit, coating them in your juices. You groaned as you watched him put both fingers in his mouth, humming to himself.

“I can’t help it. You taste so good, I don’t want to rush,” he murmured.

“Baby, please” you cooed. Jaehyun froze momentarily.

It was a low blow. You knew calling him the pet name would bring him into a more submissive state but you were desperate at this point. You could feel the shift in the power dynamic as you used the hand you roped in his thick locks to pull him back down to your center.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me. I want to cum all over this pretty mouth, baby” you said. Jaehyun’s mouth hung open as he watched you in what seemed like a daze as he nodded softly before returning to what he had been doing before.

This time there was no teasing. He went immediately to your clit — lips engulfing the soft bud as he lapped at the flesh. You couldn’t resist wrapping your legs around him, slightly squeezing his head with your thighs to resist the intense amount of pleasure you were feeling.

You moaned as he forced your legs back open again, giving you no choice but to accept exactly what it is you had asked him for. Despite submitting to you so easily, he refused to let you off the hook.

Jaehyun slipped two fingers past your entrance and pumped them vigorously in and out of you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, releasing it with a pop before repeating his actions.

“Let me taste you. Cum for me,” he urged.

Just then, you granted him his wish as your back arched off of the bed and you felt your orgasm wash over you. Jaehyun didn’t let up. He continued to pump at your core without interrupting as he lapped away at your juices.

“Fuck, you’re dripping. I have to feel this,” he said. You continued to convulse under his touch as you let his name slip from your lips over and over again.

You felt his fingers retreat as he ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, making you shutter each time he brushed against your sensitive clit.

You only had a few minutes of rest before he was inching himself into you slowly before finally bottoming out. You moaned, still sensitive from your first orgasm as he began thrusting. He started off slowly, savouring the feeling of sliding in and out of you until he was balls deep inside of you again each time.

He layed on top of you, with his head burried in your neck as he snapped his hips forward over and over again. Soon it was just too much. The both of you seemed to have forgotten where you were because the way he moved and the way your voices filled the room made it seem as though you were the last two people left on earth.

“I’m going to —“ he tried to warn as his words were interrupted by his own moan. His pace got slower as he continued to bury himself into you over and over again.

You pulled his face to yours into a final kiss as you worked your hips against his. Your lips parted along with jaehyun’s as your kiss broke. They brushed against each other as you refused to pull away completely just as you both reached your peaks together. His warmth filled you up as you both panted. Your bliss was short lived when you heard loud and violent knocks on the hotel room door followed by muffled voices.

“Are you guys insane? You’re so lucky the party is at its peak right now because we could literally hear you from the end of the hall!” Mark said as the knocking continued.

“Jaehyun, I swear to God if you aren’t out here in three seconds!” He continued.

The two of you frantically pulled your clothing back on before you threw the door open. Mark looked the two of you up and down.

“Johnny is holding the elevator so no one else can get up here. We gotta go. Oh and congrats by the way,” he said before turning on his heels and making his way towards the elevator.

Jaehyun quickly pulled your face into his hands for a kiss, promising to call you soon before Johnny yelled for him to “get the hell into the lift!” and just like that they were gone again and you were left with a feeling that you couldn’t really describe — but still a peaceful one, nonetheless. You closed your hotel door finally letting your fingers flutter across your lips as they broke into a soft smile.

[collecting-stories]

Rain - JJ Maybank

Request: hello💛may i request jj x reader, they are bestfriend’s and lately jj has been seeing reader in a completely different way and he doesn’t know why? like he‘d get mad at the boys interested in her and whenever rafe or topper tries to hit on reader it always ends in a fight? maybe he abruptly kisses her one day and then does he realise he’s inlove with her? FLUFF & A JEALOUS JJ PLS😭❤️

Request: could you do a jj fic with a rain kiss? i don’t really have a plot in mind but maybe one where they’re arguing in the rain or something💖

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

JJ sat on his board, ignoring the growing waves and Pope telling him to hurry up and paddle the rest of the way out to surf. He was too far away to hear anything you were saying but he was close enough to see you, standing there with your board, talking to Topper at the edge of the water. He squinted against the sun, trying to get a better look at your face as stood there. Were you smiling or was he imagining that? Did you like Topper? You had never mentioned anything about the kook to any of them, unless you just hadn’t mentioned it to him.  

Pope called JJ’s name again and he waved his other friend off, still trying to decipher what was going on with you and Topper on the beach. He would never admit it out loud but lately JJ had been feeling different about you. It wasn’t just some lust fueled, empty flirting. It was more than that. He couldn’t explain it and he’d definitely never felt like it before but he couldn’t sit there and watch you flirt with Topper. He paddled back toward the shoreline, getting off his board when he was close enough and walking to where you and Topper were talking.  

“Hey.”

You looked surprised to see him when your eyes met his but you recovered pretty quickly, “hey, what’s up?” You asked.  

“Thought you were coming out...it’s gonna storm soon.” JJ pointed out. You and Pope had been talking about going out to catch waves all week and there was finally a break in what felt like seven days straight of rain.  

“Yeah, I will, I’m just...” you looked back at Topper, still standing there. He raised his eyebrows in question, “I’ll be right there I’m talking to Topper.”

“Yeah...about what?”

“What?” You asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“How about, none of your business?” Topper commented, glaring at him.  

“How about you get the fuck off our side of the beach.” JJ said, stepping forward. You were quick to get between them, holding a hand out to JJ to stop him from coming any closer. Everything had been fine two minutes ago before he decided to come back to shore.  

“I’ll be right out J,” you said, “just go.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Please.”

“She told you to leave.” Topper cut in.  

“Seriously,” you rolled your eyes, “I got it.”  

“I can’t believe you’re seriously choosing him over me.” JJ said.  

You clenched your fists, trying not to lose your cool right here on the beach in front of Topper. This was the same bullshit that JJ had been pulling for weeks now. Interrupting any conversation that you tried to have with anyone that wasn’t him. He’d been antsy and unusually clingy just the other day when you were hanging outside the Chateau with John B. Now he was embarrassing you in front of Topper.  

“Can you not do this right now?” You practically begged before turning back to Topper, “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Text me.” He replied, nodding. He glared at JJ one last time before heading off down the beach, away from both of you. If only you could have gone with him.  

“What the hell is your problem JJ?” You laid your board down and started to gather the rest of your stuff. Shorts, sandals, shirt, all went in your bag.  

“My problem? You’ve been bitching all week about going out to surf and we finally get a few good hours and you waste them standing around on the shore twirling your hair and flirting with Topper.”  

“Fuck you! I’m allowed to talk, and yes flirt, with whoever the hell I want to.” You snapped.  

“Topper though? Get some fucking standards.” He replied, dropping his board down beside yours and grabbing your bag before you could finish packing it.

“Give me that back!”

“No!” He held it away from you when you tried to reach for it, “I’m trying to talk to you and you’re standing here packing up so you can run away.”

“Run away? You’re so fucking dramatic JJ! I’m leaving because you’re being a dick and you ruined  my entire afternoon.”

“Oh sorry you didn’t get to suck his-”  

You slapped JJ, hands immediately covering your mouth, eyes wide as you stared at him. You knew about Luke and you’d always been carefully of the way you acted around JJ. You’d never so much as jokingly nudged him.  

“Oh my god...J-”

JJ shook his head, holding his hand up. “I was out of line.” He replied. The moment he heard the words coming out of his mouth he knew he had taken his anger too far. He wasn’t surprised you’d slapped him, he wanted to hit himself too. He was being stupid and he knew but he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay.” He insisted.  

“I wasn’t flirting with Topper.” You clarified, “I didn’t deserve the accusation but I wasn’t flirting.”

“You were just out here talking to him and I saw you and-”

“I can’t just not talk to people because you don’t want me to...I get the whole kook pogue thing but I’m allowed to talk to whoever I want, without some six degrees from you.” You replied. You hadn’t meant to slap him but you weren’t going to let him get away with his behavior because of that.

“It’s not a kook pogue thing.” He looked away for a moment as a drop of rain hit his cheek. You looked up as it started to rain again, the umpteenth time this week. As you turned your attention back to JJ you saw Pope coming in out of the corner of your eye. At least someone got to enjoy a few waves.  

“Then what is it, because I’m so sick of this shit with you JJ. It’s every party, every beach trip.” You said. “I can’t talk to anyone without you right there. I don’t get it.”

“I just-” JJ let out a breath, frustrated with himself mostly. He was terrible with words as it was but he felt like he was incapable of just explaining to you what was the matter. Why couldn’t he just tell you that he liked you?  

“What?” You asked, “you just what?”

“I just-” He tried again, the rain overhead getting worse as he pushed wet hair out of his eyes. Without warning he leaned forward, knowing he’d either be slapped again or you would reciprocate. He kissed you, hand laying at the back of your head but trying not to seem like he was holding you there.  

Your eyes went wide and then quickly closed against the rain. JJ was kissing you, mouth on yours as if it was the most obvious reason of all and somehow you had never even considered that the reason he was so pissed was because he was jealous. You kissed back, grabbing at his waist to pull him closer, hands slippery on wet skin. He was jealous of Topper or John B or any nameless touron at a party and you couldn’t even fathom that because it was completely unbelievable. What did he even have to be jealous of?

“Guys!” Pope called, coming up the beach to where the two of you were standing. JJ pulled way, turning to look at his best friend.  

“What?”

“I’m real happy for you but can we get going? Now isn’t the time!” He insisted, looking back to the darkening sky over the water.  

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized, grabbing your bag from where JJ had dropped it on the sand and sliding it over your shoulders, “JJ was yelling at me over Topper.”

“I wasn’t yelling at you!”

“No, totally, of course. You were so calm and collected.”  

“I would’ve been if you hadn’t been talking to Topper when we were supposed to be hanging out!” JJ replied, that slight crack in his voice back as he followed you and Pope up to the car.

“I’m joking J, god I kissed you didn’t I?”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects  @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama  @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @jolomez @summerkaulitz 

[secret-engima]

I’m interested in hearing more about that AU you told me about before- the RWBY/HTTYD fusion(?) where Oscar is basically Hiccup and Ozpin is the dadliest Nightfury ever :)

OH YES THAT WAS A FUN IDEA.

Okay so like- RWBY/HTTYD fusion kinda thing where instead of vikings there’s Remnant characters. And possibly Remnant’s world. Anyway dragons are a thing, dragons are something people all have strong mixed opinions on because most dragons are furious monsters that try to destroy human settlements at any turn, but there are stories and legends of a time centuries ago when dragons were peaceful and tamable and kind.

Oscar has no real opinion on the legends. He’s mostly scared of dragons after an attack of a huge flock of Terrible Terrors when he was a small child left his hands and neck all scarred up. Even so, he doesn't ... really hate them? They’re wild animals. They’re just angry ones. He and his Aunt are pretty good at keeping their farm unnoticed when a flock passes overhead and as long as it stays that way, he’s fine. Any stray dragon that comes by and starts making noises to set the barn on fire or steal livestock, his Aunt deals with it. She’s a good shot.

Then one day, his hideout is broken into.

Now, his hideout isn’t really a “hideout” it’s just the old barn that the farm doesn’t use anymore. it’s too far away from the house, right on the edge of their property. But nobody has a reason to go there, so as long as he’s careful, Oscar gets to use it as his own little clubhouse. He stores books in there, and notebooks to sketch in, and all the junk he likes to tinker with because he likes building things on the side. His aunt says that maybe someday he can get a scholarship to a proper school for engineering and stuff.

He’s always careful not to store food in there, so that the wild animals of any kind have no reason to try to get in, and he locks it when he leaves.

So he is understandably VERY surprised when he comes in and finds a DRAGON on the floor of his hideout, having apparently broken in through the old window on the upper floor. The dragon stirs when Oscar gasps in fear, moves faster than Oscar can think and suddenly Oscar is pinned by a dark paw as the dragon looms over him with bloody, sharp teeth and furious gold eyes.

So this is how he dies then.

He squeezes his eyes shut with a whimper, waiting for the half-remembered agony of being mauled by a dragon to start (it had hurt so bad as a child and this dragon was so much bigger than a Terrible Terror-).

Hot breath on his face and then instead of pain, a low noise that was too soft to be a growl. Oscar whimpers again because please, please don’t try to eat him alive or something, but instead of pain the paw just leaves his chest and when Oscar dares to open his eyes and sit up, the dragon has limped away to curl up in a corner of the hideout again.

....Dragons aren’t supposed to let humans live.

......They probably aren’t supposed to look so exhausted and in pain and bloody either.

Oscar knows he should run. Go get his Aunt so she can come put the dragon down before it changes its mind and hurts him but-. The dragon looks at him, and gold eyes aren’t furious anymore. Just resigned. Scared. The dragon looks like it’s been on the losing side of a very bad fight with something that wasn’t human. There are gashes where scales have been clawed away, and when its tail slides slowly to curl around its paws, Oscar can see its missing a tail fin.

...Was this dragon attacked by other dragons?

Curiosity and pity make Oscar hold his silence as he backs slowly out of the barn and shuts the door behind him. He ... maybe it will go away in a few hours. Once it’s caught its breath.

He peaks in that evening and finds it hasn’t. It’s curled up tightly in the same corner, and he’s pretty sure the dragon is shivering.

He should REALLY tell his Aunt about this.

He brings it a small bucket of fish from the farm’s massive pond the next morning instead.

The dragon looks at him in open surprise and takes the fish as politely as a well trained dog. When it stands up again Oscar flinches, but all it does is sniff at him and then start licking his hair and Oscar yelps from shock more than fear. It’s like a switch has been flipped and even though the dragon is still exhausted and injured, it gently wrestles him down to give him ... a bath? A dragon bath. The dragon is purring while it does so. Oscar takes it as a form of thank you and has to work hard to snag a shower before Auntie Em can see him covered in dragon drool.

It takes a few more tentative visits to realize that 1. the dragon can’t leave because he can’t fly anymore, 2. he’s not actually black like Oscar thought, but a really deep, rich green in the sunlight when the dragon sneaks out to the old back field for a sun nap, and 3. Oscar is pretty sure he’s been adopted by the dragon. It (he, the dragon is a he), keeps cooing at him and trying to follow him and giving him tongue baths and offering him regurgitated bits of fish, which Oscar frantically turns down each time.

He names the dragon Ozpin, after one of the few dragon stories he knows where the dragon isn’t a horrible monster, and the first time he uses it, Ozpin reacts like it’s always been his name.

Oscar realizes halfway through designing a new tail fin for Ozpin that 1. this design is going to need a rider and 2. he’s had a dragon for about three months now and still hasn’t told his aunt. That ... will probably come back to bite later. But by now he’s more afraid of her reaction over the delay than her reaction over the dragon. So he keeps putting it off.

He kinda sorta really wants to ride Ozpin before his aunt can shut the idea down.

Ozpin expected to die that night he fled. Hundreds of seasons he’d managed to keep ahead of Salem, his mad former mate, freeing dragons from her control in twos and threes and hiding them away where she would not find them again, and she had finally caught him. He had been betrayed. Willingly. Leo’s eyes had been clear as day as he stood by Salem’s side, not glazed with her hate and control, and that hurt almost as much as the claws of her horde of dragons (always a horde, never leaving the risk that she will have to fight him alone, because she knows that in an equal fight, he would win, just like he almost had last time) tearing apart his scales, driving him from the air before he managed to fight some of them off and escape.

He’s not sure when he lost his tail fin. But that is a death sentence to a dragon like him. A dragon who cannot fly is a dead dragon, either by starvation, by Salem, or by the humans who have long forgotten what it was like to be friends and companions to dragon kind.

Ozpin wakes up in a human structure and can’t remember how he got in, but he hears movement and pained instinct drives him up to attack (what if it’s Salem, what if it’s one of her scouts, a poor dragon that Ozpin is too weak to free from her control and will have to kill to save himself like the coward he is-).

A child.

A human child.

Oh. Oh dear.

He really is going to die.

Ozpin removes his paw, hoping he didn’t break any fragile bones (human hatchlings were so *delicate*, he remembered that even after so long) and slinks to a far corner. He could run again, but he’s too tired and too heartsick. Let the boy call his parents.

At least the humans would probably make his death quick.

Except the boy does not call his parents, he leaves and pokes his head in hours later as if to check if Ozpin is still there. He leaves again and the next morning arrives with a bucket of fish to feed him. It is strange and kind and strange because it is kind and when he sniffs at the boy in curiosity, looking for a reason, the child doesn’t run, just flinches nervously. He smells of only one guardian and no other hatchlings. He smells nervous and a bit frightened and ... lonely.

Ozpin finds himself gently pulling the child close and bathing him before he can think better of it, and it is foolish, to risk claiming another human hatchling, he hasn’t shared his Life with a Rider in a long long time (not since Salem killed the last one before his eyes back when he was young and foolish and still thought he could call her back from the edge of madness), but he is so grateful and lonely and this child is all but aching with the need for love. Why else would he risk bringing Ozpin food when all the stories men tell nowadays are of how dragons are bloodthirsty monsters?

The boy keeps coming back, bringing just enough fish to take the edge of Ozpin’s hunger, and even though his days are numbered, Ozpin stays and croons and tries to impart love on the child who is so lonely he would befriend a monster. He lets the boy tentatively climb on him and touch his scales, even lets him inspect Ozpin’s injured, ruined tail. He can’t help it. He always loved hatchlings, human or dragon, and it’s been so *long*-.

The boy takes to sketching and building ... something. Ozpin isn’t entirely certain what. He almost jumps out of his scales when Oscar (that was the boy’s name he learned at last) calls him Ozpin, calls him by name, and then learns that there still are a handful of stories of the Old Days. Dismissed as myth now. It’s amusing to be named after himself.

Ozpin frets quietly over the child sometimes, because while he can smell a guardian on him, he has never seen this guardian, even from afar. He knows this barn is on the edge of Oscar’s little territory, but even so, what guardian lets her hatchling wander off so frequently and never thinks to check on him? Sometimes Oscar falls *asleep* in here, curled up against Ozpin’s side and tucked under a wing, and only wakes up when Ozpin nudges him up because he can hear the far off bell that he thinks means it’s time for his hatchling to go home and eat.

He wishes Speaking Stones still existed. That he’d managed to save more of them, or that he was able to fly and get one. The only way to exchange true words without a Speaking Stone would be a Rider bond and- and he can’t do that to Oscar. It wouldn’t be fair.

He doesn’t deserve to be dragged into a war for freedom of mind that Ozpin and dragon kind has been losing for seasons upon seasons.

Except the child doesn’t seem to think so, doesn’t even know what he flirts with when he tentatively drags in a rudimentary replacement tail fin and saddle as well as a harness to connect them.

Ozpin tries to reject it. As much as he wants (needs) to fly, it’s too dangerous. The boy pouts and sets the harness and gear aside, muttering to himself that he’ll just leave it in the barn for a while until “Ozpin gets used to the smell”.

Ozpin snorts. Because he is not a dog that can be tricked into forgetting something exists thank you.

Oscar sticks his tongue out at him. Adorable, feisty, silly little hatchling.

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms: part 1

Intro <-

Yang:So how we doin this? Drawing straws or... well we actually don’t have straws here so-

Weiss:It’s obvious that you wanna go first.

Blake:Extremely obvious.

Ruby:All over your face.

Yang:Hey now, don’t call me out like that! We all have so much to sort out here. I don’t even know where to begin. Differences could start and stop anywhere for all we really know.

Blake:From what it seems, Beacon itself would have one or two minor changes, but the real changes start after the fall. At least, for you three that is.

Weiss:You saying you’re different?

Blake:Unless you three started going on dates with Jaune at Beacon, then yes, I’m different.

RWY:(They’ve been together that long!?)

Yang:Okay, starting from Beacon...nothing really stands out too much. Jaune and I were just friends. *cringes* Back then, a certain faunus caught my eye.

Blake:Ah...right. I guess that tracks in practically every universe.

RW:Oh yeah it does. You two are joined at the hip.

Yang:Haha, really? Glad to hear it. My Blake and I are best buds! Remnant has never seen such a dynamic duo! Can’t say it didn’t take a lot of time effort after a rough patch. We actually dated in my world.

Blake:Same.

Yang:What!? How long?

Blake:I don’t know, it was pretty on again off again.

Yang:Well for me it was after Haven. Both of us had gotten pretty serious. All the growing we’ve done together and apart had brought us closer. However, Adam unintentionally put a wedge between us. His attempt to change and the problems that came with it were-

Yang stopped midway and saw the confused faces of her otherworldly teammates. They were shocked, confused even. Especially Blake, who looked the most shocked of all.

Yang:Umm did I say something odd?

Blake:Adam, he...isn’t dead?

Yang:Oh, well I guess that’s the start of the major changes then. Blake and I fought Adam at Argus. Stabbed him through the chest and watched him fall down rocks into a river.

Ruby:That lines you with my world. Dude died that day. Like any normal person should.

Yang:Well Adam is anything but fucking normal. Man has the craziest luck. A young women, the winter maiden in fact, she saved his life. She’s not exactly normal either. The maiden, Jacquelyn, ended up sticking by him to see if she could change his ways. This naturally meant we’d run into them again. And that’s how things fell apart.

Blake:What do you mean?

Yang:You were fully committed to seeing if Adam could actually change. I wasn’t, so we constantly butted heads in any situation involving him. Then we would fight about things that had nothing to do with at all. Eventually, we broke it off. We remained on decent terms but I was pretty heartbroken about the disconnect. Enter our lovable blonde idiot. Jaune did everything in his power to cheer me up.

Weiss:Sounds like him. Always such a bleeding heart. That boy just can’t help himself. Let me guess, his kindness and concern made you feel all warm and fuzzy?

Yang:Hehe, guilty. It was more of his willingness to laugh at my puns. Jaune’s always been interesting to talk to. He tries to act cool and calm even though he’s terrible at it, then comes clean right after. Before I knew it I was telling him things I hadn’t talked about with people before. I could tell he looked at me like most guys do, but also genuinely wanted to listen to me. Talk about playing unfair; he got defenseless. Suddenly I was smiling again. Anytime with him was time well spent. Then one day, I kissed him.

Ruby:Happily ever after?

Yang:Not even close! Hahaha!

Weiss:Why do you sound proud?

Yang:It’s funny looking back at it to a certain degree. Gods, I was such a brat. More than a few fights are on me. Between Blake, Raven, and other experiences, my insecurities flared up in ugly ways over nothing. It even got us to break up too. I was officially done with dating. My Ruby was out in an uncomfortable position.

Ruby:I bet! I’d never want you two fighting. Especially in my world. Picking between the person I love and my sister!? I don’t know what will happen.

Yang:I kinda do. *sets up* You’d start dating Jaune because you’ve looked at him since Beacon. The two of you would confide in each other and share a special kind of love, but it would be bittersweet. All because your sister still pines for him and never met to make him leave, and Jaune never says it, but he hates how things fell apart. He’s faithful to you and would never do you wrong, a guy to truly cherish. So... you let him go. Watch him walk back to your sister like you asked, because my happiness was worth that much to you.

Ruby:....

Yang: In my world at least. Honestly it’s still the most amazing thing I’ve seen you do. We must’ve cried over that conversation for hours. I felt so guilty and you only smiled, hugging me tight. Jaune and I had a few more stumbles. Nothing serious though. Eventually we moved in together when the world was saved. You and Oscar got together officially which made me happy. Even made our weddings a competition of who’d make dad bawl his eyes out the most. You won by the way; Raven came back into our family and into dad’s arms. Last but not least I had a baby. Yujin Xiao Long, my fucking pride and joy from above.

Weiss:Wow, that’s a lot.

Blake:What am I doing? Did I marry Sun?

Yang:Yep. You and blondes Blake, I tell ya.

Weiss:Hold the phone! Who am I with!?

Yang:Pretty sure you’re technically single. Buuuut, Neo and your have gotten pretty friendly from what I managed to interrogate out of you.

Weiss:That’s, highly unexpected. For a number of reasons.

Yang:Better believe it. Besides Cinder, a few crazies, and Salem, a few people made something of themselves. Dying sucks after all.

Ruby:You have a dead Cinder?

WBY: You don’t?

Ruby:*crosses arms* Hmph, I’ll wait my turn. Yang, you said you’re the only mother from our team. If Blake and I have been married for quite some time then what, we don’t want kids?

The joyful sunshine from Yang slipped into grayer skies. Her smile faded and it increasingly got harder to look at this Ruby without thinking of her own.

Yang:Are you sure that’s something you wanna know? I’ll tell you, but I didn’t want to bring down the mood with the problems where I from.

Blake:Problems? How big of a problem.

Yang:The biggest we’ve faced. It’s...a lot.

Ruby:Well we’ve listened this far. *takes hand* Lay it on us.

Yang:Pfft, oh boy. So...umm...another secret war came up. One that caused us to leave our friends and family for over a decade.

Weiss:A decade!?

Blake:What gets worse after Salem!? Who tries anything after a grimm queen!?

Yang:So a majority of Remnant was still unaware of her, but a fight like that can only be kept under wraps so tightly. Plenty of people still learned fractions of the truth. A few of those people weren’t exactly nice guys. They idolized her efforts and became her followers that wanted to keep her will alive, starting with taking revenge on the people who defeated her. We were so unaware. So caught up in normalcy. They ambushed us, and I mean everyone. We...we didn’t come out unscathed. Ren was crippled badly. Weiss, you almost your brother. Jaune’s family got hit but thankfully lived. The real casualties were aimed to hurt Ruby.

Ruby:Oh, of course. S-So, either you’re about to say I had no time to start a family, or...

Yang:...

Yang:When I tell you the look you made when you learned what happened to Oscar, to Qrow... that’s the moment it felt like my little sister left forever. Till this day you don’t smile like you used to. Very recently, now that it’s finally over, you’ve started looking better, but those ten years were hell. We choose to go out and fight again, avoiding contact with family. I haven’t had a real opportunity to be in my daughters life.

Ruby:How old is she?

Yang:Sixteen soon. Left her when she was four so you know. *tearing up* I missed everything. Just about anyways. Ironically it was Raven and Adam that helped her through the years with Jaune and Dad. Eventually we came back and ooohh boy was Yujin not thrilled in the slightest. Hehehe. Her right hook is really strong. I only had about a week with her before things got complicated again. *wipes eyes* But it’s okay. We left on good term. Something I definitely don’t feel like I deserve.

Blake:I can’t believe a thing like that would be possible.

Yang:Cults are a huge problem in Remnant now. You’re definitely aware of that. You actually oversee a little group from the shadows to deal with them in secret. An idea you got from experience. Adam works for you and everything. Hate to admit, but he’s become the guy you wanted him to be. Even has a family. I’m grateful to him. He personally kept my girl safe.

Blake:To think I’d hear you say that. Now I know this isn’t my world.

Yang:Don’t get me wrong, I still will hit him if given the chance. My life hasn’t been charmed and sacrifices too great were happening way too many times but it finally has gotten to a point where everyone feels like we’re taking steps towards a better future.

Weiss:Moving forward?

Yang:Yes, I was trying to avoid the phrase but yes Weiss, we’re moving forward. Still... *looks at Ruby*....

Ruby:W-What?

Yang:It’s unreal seeing you like this. My Ruby has become so strong and endured but hasn’t really picked herself up completely. All her tragedy stemmed from the loss of Oscar and Qrow; her last talk with Oscar was fight about kids too. That’s the entire reason she went off alone in the first place. Looking at you I can’t help but question my own choices. If...I just let her stay with Jaune, then maybe-

Ruby:Nope.

Yang:Huh?

Ruby:Look, if I know anything about your world, then it’s gonna be me and I can tell you without a doubt your Ruby doesn’t blame or would consider her own happiness without you. She loved you enough to take the chance to find love again. You really think there’s anything you could’ve done differently at that point. That girl is as stubborn as they come! *smiles* So buck up cowgirl. You deserve it.

A sense of warmth came over Yang as she heard those words. This other Ruby smiled at her with the same love as her own; completely caring about Yang’s feeling before her own. Yang felt so...unburdened. She couldn’t help but cry a little, laughing softly as she did. Who would’ve thought love could transcend worlds? It was so vindicating, therapeutic even.

Yang:Ruby, you’re something else entirely, you know that?

Ruby:It’s my curse. All I ever wanted was normal knees but the world said “no, special eyes!”

Yang:Well I guess I should thank the world then?

Weiss:You said your Ruby is getting better? That’s good. Still, it must be pretty weird looking at Jaune. Can’t imagine how lonely it must feel losing a love twice.

Blake:It never numbs.

Yang:Geez you two, lighten up. We can’t all be depressed. Ruby also didn’t lose Jaune. Actually....there may or may not have been an interesting...arrangement for a brief period of time.

Ruby:Ehhh what?

Yang:Hehehe well, hahaha, ummmm a decade is a very long time without feeling any kind of pleasure in a bleak situation. And you know me, I have to share things with you all my life.

Ruby:OH MY GOD!!!

Blake:*grinning* Yooooo! You loaned out Jaune!?

Weiss:That’s....accurate; in a lot of ways.

Ruby:That’s so scandalous! How could you!?

Yang:I didn’t force it! I gave the option, you said no, then you changed your mind because things got real stressful. Like come on, a decade of death and loneliness.

Ruby:Sigh...yeah. I can see it. Still, it’s so filthy. He’s a married man. What, so I’d just look at you and say “Yang I’m gonna sleep with Jaune, don’t come in the room.”

Yang:....

Ruby:What?

Yang:....Nothing.

Ruby:Bullshit! What is it!?

Yang:*scratches head* Well, I was lonely too, and a week is only so long-

Weiss:Oh so it was a group thing!!?

Ruby:WHAT!?

Yang:Only sometimes!

Ruby:SOMETIMES!?

Blake:HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

Ruby:Why are you laughing!?

Blake:Because that’s just so extreme, and not, all at the same time. I could totally see that happening.

Weiss:Same. Dang, Jaune slept with sisters. That’s dangerously close to being like your dad.

Ruby:That’s different!

Blake:Is it though?

Yang:Eh, I don’t see the problem. We’re all grown and make choices. Plus I’m the one who guided you through awkward teenage changes. It not like we didn’t share a room for years.

Ruby:That doesn’t make it okay.

Yang:Eh debatable.

Ruby:*red* It isn’t though! How could I do something so bold!? So taboo!?

Weiss:It isn’t like you’re the one who did it. Just a version of you.

Ruby:Not better!

Yang:Awwww it’s okay Ruby. Let’s hug it out. Hehehe *opens arms*

Ruby:Don’t touch me!

Weiss and Blake laugh until their sides hurt as Ruby tries escaping the bear hug that terrorized her. Yang’s world found interesting for sure. Weiss finally decides to help Ruby out.

Weiss:Got a picture of Yujin?

Yang’s eyes lit up and pulled out her scroll. Her team huddled around her and collectively cooed like that parents they are at the sight of a blonde young girl with gorgeous blue eyes with a black combat school graduation cap and gown and a certificate proudly raised up high. If it wasn’t for those eyes and shoulders length hair, they might’ve mistaken her for Yang.

Yang:She’s going to Beacon early because she’s fucking awesome like her mom.

Ruby:I think you mean her aunt?

Yang:I know what I said.

Weiss:I bet she’s just as hardheaded.

Blake:What do you think your kid is up to right now?

Yang: Well...*smiles*

xxxx

The girl in question sat at a work bench with oil on her face and her hands busy tinkering with gauntlets. She looked over at blueprints in a journal. If they were right, then she was definitely doing something wrong. How her mother made something so complex was crazy!

Yujin:Come on Yujin. You can fix a car, making gauntlets into a sword that don’t break should be easy!

Footsteps came up from behind her and a plate stacked with sandwiches. She looked up and smiled at her dad that gave her a wink, then kissed her forehead.

Jaune:Haveing fun, you grease monkey.

Yujin:Jokes on you, I like monkeys. Just a few more attempts and I’ll have the coolest weapon in Remnant. That entrance exam is as good as aced.

Jaune:Not if you don’t have a landing strategy. Tomorrow we’re going on a trip.

Yujin:Does it happen to be near a cliff?

Jaune:Who can say? Rule one of being a huntsman, be prepared for everything.

He ruffled her hair and left, laughing evilly. Yujin could tell he’s been waiting for this day. She pulled out her scroll and searched through a collection of videos labeled “mom” and found a super early one. She hit play and watched her mother give a peace sign to the camera as trees increasingly got closer from below.

Yang:Beacon rules!!!! Wooohooo!

The camera flipped and focused on a familiar blonde flailing through the air like a doll in the distance.

Yang:Oof, hate to be that guy! Wait, that’s vomit boy! Hahah, hope he survives. He owes me shoes. Poor dude. I guess he needs more training in flirting and landing. Wait, eugh I think he barfed again! Hahaha!

Jaune:Stop watching that one!!!!

Yujin:Hahaha but it’s the best one. The ending is priceless.

Jaune: *walks back down*

Yang:Well if he survives this I guess I can off him at least I can offer him mints and company. Fake it to ya make Jaune. Between me and Ruby, at least you’ll look like a player. Heh, nah, I don’t think I can support a bunny onesie.

Yujin and Jaune:*grinning* And then she did! *high-fives* Arc charm, baby!

[shiversdownyerspine]

7. Premeditated

GETTING WARMER FOR ALL THEM OTTO PEEPS. >:D

18+

You take a deep steadying breath into your hands, dragging them down your face as you breathe out. Stars twinkling in the window, you lean forward against the counter as your body shivers uncontrollably. With your elbows atop the counter, you wait once again for your kettle to boil, already dreading morning. 

This can't go on. At this rate, you're going to drink all the coffee in your home! But what can you do except wait? You've done it time and time again; wrap up in your covers, drink your piping hot tea, and catch a couple hours of sleep before the cold sets in again and you start the whole process over. Rinse and repeat the whole night away, the week away, until the chill that has made a home in your bones eases its grip. For a time.

Lips parting on a shaky sigh, you fiddle with your sleeve, allowing your flannel pajamas' polka dot pattern to distract you from your joyless thoughts. Feeling the fuzzy interior around the inside of the cuff, you miss the meager vestiges of body heat that had long disappeared into the night. Small as they were, at least they had been something. Your head swivels to eye your stove, the little flame burning under your kettle, and hop up on the counter to sit. Not too close to the flame, but close enough to soak up some of the heat.

As the water bubbles in its confines, you quickly switch off the stove and pop the kettle up before it can start to whistle. Filling your classic mug of chamomile tea, your thoughts once again fall; this was much easier to handle when you had no guests, no one to pick up on your little problem. Of course that's not their fault, and you're certainly not blaming them, just appreciating a freedom that you were unaware of before. 

Smile pulling at your lips, you recall a couple days prior how you taunted the three before disappearing to your room before revenge could be had. Your familiarity with the men has certainly been making you bold. Honestly, you're kind of surprised no one has retaliated against you, but on the other hand, the suspense offers a sort of retribution all on its own. You doubt that'd be enough for them though.

This introspection has you distracted well and good, to the point that when the tallest brother leaves the guestroom and walks barefoot to your kitchen, you had yet to notice him until he was practically in front of you. Deja vu strikes; your grasp falters, hands fumbling with your drink with the familiar sudden appearance of a long john wearing man. Wide eyed, you blink up at Otto as he scans you head to toe, taking in your shivering layers and that you are once more preparing a drink late in the night.

He is direct, "You're awake, why?"

Judging by his determined tone, the man is on a hunt. You fidget, "Can't sleep sometimes."

He snorts, "Weeks of bad sleep? No."

He gestures to your kettle, "Drink, why?"

Your answer is technically honest, "...I get cold sometimes."

With narrow eyes, he crushes your wish that he would leave it at that, "Cold why?" 

Your gaze lowers to your steaming cup, pouting just a little, "I was kind of hoping you'd just assume it's because I'm smaller in stature." Otto waits patiently, folding his arms in victory.

Tapping a nervous rhythm on the sides of your mug, you give it a go, "Well, you all know about my regeneration? So...I suffered a serious injury to my diaphragm and my ribcage when I was young and my healing was in..early development. It did heal, but not...uh..the way it should have...it was..different? Wrong?" 

Your brow furrows with frustration, "I-I'm sorry, I know I'm not being very clear, but the only way I'd know for certain is with a doctor visit...which I can't do for...many reasons. Basically all I have is just...theory." 

You sip your drink, eyes drifting back up to Otto.

"I think when the injury healed, it healed incorrectly and permanently. Because of that, I have difficulty generating and sustaining my own body heat. It just slips away sometimes. It took a good while to get used to these...random cold spells. They don't hurt, not really, I just...lose out on more sleep than I'd like."

Although the colder seasons are...pretty rough. You can't lie to yourself about that.

Otto cocks his head, frowning. He takes a moment to find the words, which he speaks softly, "All your blankets..sweaters...ah..hot drinking?" 

You smile to confirm, patting the knit blanket on your shoulder as you hum, "Yup, all to help with my condition. Well...not exclusively. I do enjoy all those things quite a bit, so even if I didn't have this little problem, I don't know if my tastes would be much different. There's just something about knit-wear and hot cocoa that makes me happy." You grin, wiggling your feet in the heavy fuzzy socks that currently adorn them, displaying your enjoyment of their softness. You can get a bit silly when you're so tired.

The look he gives you is...focused. Judging by the tense set of his jaw and the soft popping of his knuckles as his hands curl into fists, it's almost like he's...

"Who hurt you?" 

Your thought process is abruptly cut off. You blink in mild surprise...he's not asking what, but who. Does he suspect it wasn't some sort of accident then? You do have a lack of pictures around your home, no friends or family from before you became affiliated with the Commission, so maybe he reasoned that your isolation had something to do with an aversion to people? And not just fear of your ability being discovered?...The man pays attention.

The smile on your face fades as you fall still, thinking carefully. Of course you were trying to figure out some sort of way to answer his question without diving into dangerous waters, but you find that his question is pulling from you some honest consideration; you weren't sure how you felt about the agents that brought you to that man, but in the end they were just doing their jobs...you don't even know if they had any idea what was actually going on. Regardless of intent, you have no warm thoughts or feelings to spare for them. But, there was only one person that made the feathers on the back of your neck stand on end with just a thought.

"It doesn't matter, they're long gone now. Good riddance." Your last sentence leaves your lips in a quiet hiss.

Ottos frown deepens into a furious scowl, "Where."

Your hands squeeze your mug, "Dead. I promise."

You're fairly certain you're the one that did it. You had gotten some flickers of memory quite a while back, one in particular had been of a man in...dire need of assistance as he flailed uselessly underneath long frantically swiping claws. He hadn't really been recognizable under all the mess and gore...but oh, there was this feeling.

The tension in the large man seems to ease, but Otto pauses with curiosity and surprise as he processes the pure vitriol in your voice, "You kill?"

You stumble over your words, "I...well, anyone can kill...if they're backed into a corner, right? If there's no other way out, and...and really.." 

Your voice trails off at about the same time as your mind does, beginning the descent into fuzzy memory.

You're not even sure why you're fighting the urge to panic; these men are assassins, killing is a part of their life. They understand ending a life to defend oneself... but that isn't the problem, is it. It's not that someone might think less of you, it's that...you don't remember. 

"I barely remember doing it. I don't remember what I was thinking or what I felt. I don't remember being shot at, but I do remember the pain. Bullets and blood spilling out. I don't remember if that man said anything before I started mauling him. I don't remember if when I had staggered up off the floor after a never-ending beating if..if I'd ran or tracked the man down first and...what sort of person has that maliciousness at 12 years old?"

Sighing, you scrub a hand tiredly over your face, the thick silence in the air bringing your gaze back up to Otto and...oh...you'd said everything out loud.

Color drains from your face as your eyes fall to the half full cradle of tea that is the inside of your mug. The exhaustion swallows any further panic as you mumble an apology, that you didn't intend to burden him.

Bare feet quietly pat against the kitchen floor as the man steps closer to you, burning fingertips gracing your cheek. Deep in the back of your mind you're reminded of Axel's touch, but it isn't quite the same because it's Otto's. The warmth has you leaning into his palm, seeking more instinctively to chase the chill away. It's not enough.

Otto is quiet for a moment, searching for the words before he describes their first kill, how the brothers had been young as well but older than you were. Young adults. They hadn't been employed by the Commission yet, but what you can gather from the little he gives of the situation is that they were protecting Oscar. It happened so quickly, didn't feel real. It weighed heavy on them, got easier with time. Still have rare moments where it's heavy again, old thoughts, memories. He rests his nose and lips at the top of your head, lightly in your hair. Like you. You are like them.

Perched up on the counter, your knees lightly brush his hips as he stands close, nearly between your legs as his hand cups the back of your neck. His palm rests oh so lightly atop your feathers, careful not to ruffle or stress, only offering a sheepish sort of comfort. His scent surrounds you, and it's fresh laundry and unexplainably his own and it's making you dizzy, everything is making you fuzzy and you're so drained and he's so so close...

Impulsivity, desperation, and prolonged sleeplessness has stolen away your common sense as you scoot closer to him. Your arms wrap tentatively over his shoulders in a loose hug, carefully leaning in as you tuck your face tiredly into his neck. Otto goes very still and quiet for a moment, before a quiet expletive in Swedish leaves his mouth. His palm remains on your nape, neither of you moving as you bask in his warmth.

Your lips are ticklish as they brush against his skin, murmuring a muffled bashful apology about clinginess and coldness and he can feel your hands slipping away from him. Impulsivity can be very contagious; before your touch has the chance to leave him completely, both of his big hands slip to your back and he's pulling you right back into him. Any response you have dies on your tongue, stunned and a bit timid as he pulls you forward off the counter, chest to chest. Otto has one of his arms curled under your rear, the other hand splayed at the middle of your back as he walks to the living room.

He insists, "You need to sleep."

Otto supposes he really should have just set you down after pulling you off the counter, but that doesn't necessarily mean he needs to detangle from you right now...just when he reaches your door. And when your legs aren't quite so snug around him. Of course.

Flustered, you pull back from his neck and remind him, "Sleep is easier said than done. Drinks and blankets help but it's only temporary, it comes back and I wake up."

He pauses before he can reach the hallway, scowling at your predicament. And then he wonders about you taking initiative to boldly press to him for what he had first considered to be emotional comfort...but now? You're not shivering as much so...

He offers curiously, "Body heat?"

Your mouth open, closes, then opens again, "I..um.."

Reflexive embarrassment fades as you take a moment to really think about it; you had had short professional relationships in your life, tentative friendships when you were younger that you had abandoned in the end, holding everyone at arm's length...when was the last time you had indulged in a simple hug? When you were a child?

You answer quietly, "I don't know."

Otto redirects his path and walks to the sofa instead, listening, "It's possible? I never really had the chance to find out, never mind finding the trust for it. It just didn't seem like a good idea to get that close to someone, anyone. It was too much of a risk, all things considered."

The large man understands, in a way. He knows his brothers would understand this kind of hesitation as well; caution had to be taken in many aspects of their lives working for the Commission as assassins, they still remember the early paranoia itching at the back of their minds when they first started. Luckily they had each other to rely on in their lives, not to mention the later experience to read intent and confidently indulge in a good fuck every now and then to chase away the touch deprivation.

But you...you had adopted solitude from a much earlier age, had molded your life around isolation. Sure, it wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities were there.

As he unwinds your legs from him so he can sit comfortably with you on his lap, his mind slips unbidden to other thoughts. Your earlier mention of a lack of social interaction and now admitting to a lack of touch confirmed that there were certain...activities...you had never experienced. Oscar had a point when he teased eating you out; the thought of your spread thighs shaking in his hands at the unfamiliar feeling of his wet mouth on you is intoxicating, but it may also be a necessary extra preparation before he fucks y-

Otto rips his mind from lurid thoughts, reminding himself to concentrate on his original effort to help you. Hopefully that would prevent his cock from rising to attention under your soft rear. You peer at the large man; he had gone quiet for a moment, drifting away...maybe he was processing or finding the words he wanted to say? 

You eye the flush on his face, concerned for a moment that your actions had finally made him uncomfortable before he flicks his hair out of his face and asks with a mild strain, "Curious so..find out? Answer?"

You consider putting an end to your invasion of his space, time, and sleep, feeling you had imposed enough. Strangely though, you don't quite seem to have the will to pull away from Otto. You find yourself relenting and accepting. It was too tempting, the thought of finally having relief from this stubborn cold spell. You'd brush aside your shyness and impropriety, especially if it meant you could finally sleep through the night undisturbed.

With your consent, Otto pulls you down to the couch on your sides with you still tucked in to him. Reaching for the quilt on the back of the sofa, he tugs it down and gives a couple of good single-handed shakes to unfold it before tossing it messily over the two of you with a grunt. His ears burn when he hears the muffled giggle at his minor predicament reverberate against his chest, responding to you with a huff, "Sleep."

And you do. You sleep for hours right through the night and well into morning as your body insists on you taking the opportunity.

Otto wakes to the sound of his younger brother wandering out of their guest room, but his eyes remain closed, more interested in focusing on the feel of your soft weight on his chest. Oscar wanders in to the living room to offer Butternut and Pumpkin a morning scratch, but notices the quilt missing from the back of the sofa. Figuring the cats might have messed with it, he wanders over to the aforementioned piece of furniture and nearly doesn't believe his eyes when he sees who are resting on the cushions. Is this an emergency? It has to be. He has to show Axel, it is an emergency.

Otto's ears perk as he listens to Oscar retreat to their room and return a moment later with an extra set of footsteps. Both feet stop at the back of the sofa, and the reclining man feels a pair of eyes looking intently down upon the two of you. Otto cracks open an eye, muttering that you most likely won't be up for a while longer. With a sigh, Axel trudges off to the kitchen to prepare food, insisting on a replay of last night's events when he's finished.

Earlier on, your habit of staying up late and waking in the night had made the eldest and his brothers a bit...antsy. As time went on their suspicions quickly died down, reasoning that your habits were simply a mild form of insomnia. They've all had their fair share of sleepless nights, yet over the course of a couple of weeks, you had steadily been staying up longer and longer and appearing more weary by the day. And as you fought to keep up, they could only watch with growing concern as you were slowly submerged. They had began to wonder if the culprit was something else.

As Axel prepares coffee and breakfast, Oscar heads off to check on the kittens and feed them while you are indisposed of. Otto waits patiently for his brothers to return and give him what he knows will be their undivided attention. He dips his chin down to watch you curiously; judging from your slow deep breathing, you are still very much dead to the world. Well, he supposes this means you both found the answer to the question of body heat to be a firm 'yes'. His brothers return shortly, leaning against the back of the sofa and eyeing you with not so subtle relief.

Otto begins his retelling by first asserting that it hadn't been insomnia like they thought, but an old injury made into a persistent condition by your ability. And just like he had found himself incensed as you accidentally revealed bits of your attack, so too did his brothers become possessive and protective; their lips twitching with the urge to bare teeth, postures tense and eyes blazing. Of course Oscar's rage was the most outwardly evident, but he knew how to read Axel. They were all mad dogs really, all of them.

The surprise on their faces when he revealed your kill was satisfying to say the least. Their expressions gradually changed to approval as they processed the information; it was hard to believe that you, tiny little sweetheart that you are, had actually killed someone. Of course anyone in a dire situation could be capable of things they hadn't thought possible, but you ripped a man to shreds. As a kid. Not to mention you did it with your bare hands? Well...maybe not bare per se.

Axel rests his elbows atop the sofa, hands clasped together as his attention returns once again to your ability. Oscar peers down at you in fascination and quiet disbelief. The eldest and youngest brothers' thoughts are eerily similar, the two men compare your unanticipated ferocity with the first time they saw your Phase; when Otto had caught you, the claws on your hands hadn't seemed all that significant...but then again they hadn't really asked all that much about the aspects of your ability, hadn't felt the need as they had taken your changes at face-value.

But what if there was more to it than general appearance? They weren't threatened, no, they were intrigued. After all, you had proven time and time again that you weren't interested in fighting or killing, even as they presented themselves as threats to you more than once...and not once did you attack them.

Needless to say, they have some more questions for you when you wake up. And perhaps a couple of changes as well.

[biisexualemma]

kissing other people. oscar diaz

word count: 1076

warnings: no

requested: no

plot: getting over your ex

a/n: i found this in my drafts and i don’t have anything else to post hehe but enjoy i reread thus just now and like it a lot more than when i wrote it

masterlist

you gulped your drink, finishing what was left in your cup and needing a refill. you headed to the kitchen and away from the crowd. your head was hurting and you were beginning to question why you came here in the first place. you wanted to get drunk and forget about him, that's why you came. you wanted to forget about him and what he'd done. you couldn't forget though. instead you were tipsy and more upset than you had originally been.

you sighed, picking up the vodka and pouring a generous amount into your cup. your eyes moved up to where you could feel someone watching you. it was a tall guy, tattooed, shaved head. he wore a pretty neutral expression, you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"that's a lot of vodka,” he said. you stopped pouring, furrowing your brows as you topped up your cup with the mixer.

"it is,” you agreed, you took a sip, cringing at the taste. you wanted to get drunk faster. he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. he hadn't seen you around before.

"why don't i know you?" your eyes locked back to his. he had a pretty face under all his attempts to appear intimidating.

"i don't live 'round here,” you gave no specifics. you didn't know this guy, you didn't know his intentions. he could be a psycho for all you know. "my friend— she's dating one of these guys— i don't know who. but she invited me."

you wanted to make it clear you were here with someone and not here alone. he nodded, taking a gulp of his beer.

"what's your damage, ma?"

you frowned. you leaned on the island between the two of you, watching him without getting too close. you didn't know why he was so interested but you knew you needed to talk to someone before you got too drunk.

"what are you talking about?" you sipped your drink to avoid his intense stare. he was pretty intimidating. he just stood there, leaning back against the kitchen top, watching you. "i'm fine. not that it's any of your business."

you were defensive. "that's a lot of vodka for someone who's fine,” you eyed him up. why was he making assumptions? he didn't even know you and he was standing here interrogating you like he cared. "you got a novio?"

"what?" you liked the way he spoke. he had a deep, raspy voice.

"a man? you got a boyfriend?" you frowned, standing straight. you wanted to tell him it was none of his business whether you were attached or not but something was nagging at you to just relax.

"i took spanish in high school. i know what novio means," you crossed your arms over your chest. he sneered at your comment, nodding. "i just don't think it's your place to ask if i’ve got a boyfriend."

he wore a small smirk now. "what'd he do?"

you furrowed your brows. you opened your mouth to make a snappy comment but quickly stopped yourself. there was no use in being defensive, it was draining. you sighed. "he cheated on me. i've been gone a week and he cheated on me."

he hissed, shaking his head. "idiota."

you nodded agreeing with him. "yeah. he's pretty stupid."

"his loss," he moved closer, moving round the island that you were standing on the other side of. "eres demasiado bueno para él,” he was now standing in front of you leaning one elbow on the counter next to you.

you looked down for a split second. you appreciated how nice he was being to you but it didn't make what happened hurt any less. "you're just saying that 'cause you think i'm pretty."

he shrugged, a small smile on his lips. his fingers touched your chin, gently lifting your head so you were looking at him again. "erés hermosa,” your cheeks flushed pink the closer he got. you hadn't kissed anyone that wasn't your boyfriend for a long time. but for some reason you were drawn to the stranger. "your high school spanish paying off?" he teased.

you cracked a small smile for the first time and he couldn't stop himself, he leaned down and kissed you. his lips were soft. you touched his neck, wrapping your arms around. his hands moved to your hips, pushing you up against the counter. by the time you pulled away, you were breathless.

you rested your hands on his chest, pushing him away slightly. you needed space. you didn't feel any guilt. you felt lust. you had to stop yourself before it went to far. "i'm not having sex with you."

"didn't ask you to."

"i know. but i'm not."

"ok."

"really?" you dropped your hands away from him. he shrugged.

"not a big deal, mami,” you picked your drink up again and took a big gulp. he was the perfect distraction. he was just what you needed. "you good?" he squeezed your hips gently.

"uh— yeah—" you were a little dazed. everything seemed to be a little too real. this was the first guy you'd kissed since you broke up with your boyfriend. you didn't feel angry anymore. all you could think about were his lips. "why'd you do that?"

"i wanted to."

"yeah, me too,” you chewed on your bottom lip. "fuck,” you pushed him back, moving away from him.

"hey-"

"i gotta go. i shouldn't've done that—"

"hey—" he grabbed your hand, pulling you back to face him. "he cheated on you. you don't have to feel guilty."

you shook your head. "i'm not— i don't feel guilty. i just— i only just got out of a relationship. i can't do this right now."

he pulled you closer to him again, the feeling on his hands touching your hips was almost too much. "just tonight. no commitment,” you didn't understand why he wanted to you to stick around so bad. you'd only just met. "you're the finest hyna here tonight. just rela—"

you leaned close, pressing your lips against his again. something felt so familiar about it. it felt natural. you never wanted to stop. his hands roamed to your ass, and you gripped his shoulders. he quickly lifted you with ease, placing you on top of the counter. you kept your legs wrapped round his torso, pulling him as close to you as you could.

"you're really good at that," you mumbled, breathlessly.

[youare-mysonshine]

funhouse || oscar diaz

Summary: reader convinces Oscar to go ghost hunting with her in an abandoned house and it’s both hilarious and terrifying.

Requested: yes! @varzling

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x reader, Jamal Turner x reader (platonic)

Warnings: cussing as per usual

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I loved this so much lmao I was born one week before halloween and I was obsessed with scary movies and spooky shit before I could even properly talk. I had the Chucky doll and my uncle called me Chucky because I was obsessed with that movie. This was one of my favorites to write because paranormal and horror stuff is my fav! This is me, I am reader lmao this was fun to write! I also did this in second person pov rather than third person which is what i normally do. let me know if you prefer this or if you prefer third person.

________________

“No.”

“Baby, come on! Please?”

It had all started when Jamal had mentioned in passing that there was an abandoned house only a few blocks away from where you lived. An abandoned house that people assumed was haunted. He had mentioned that he wanted to go ghost hunting with some equipment that he had bought but had been wary of it because he didn’t want to go alone.

You loved that stuff. Paranormal shit was your absolute favorite, so naturally, you agreed to go with Jamal. You were absolutely buzzing with excitement, and you had put it in your mind to convince Oscar to go with you two - but you knew that it wouldn’t be an easy feat.

You knew Oscar better than anyone and you knew just how jumpy and how fearful he was of paranormal stuff, which you found rather amusing given just how much of an intimidating man he was. Shit, people called him Spooky. You always took the time to tease him about it - you’d sneak up behind him wrapped in a white sheet (like a ghost) just to scare him, which he certainly didn’t appreciate it, but you found absolutely hilarious.

So getting him to agree to go with you and Jamal to ghost hunt was certainly a mission.

“Nah. I ain’t going.” He said, taking a drag from the cigarette he was smoking. You stood in front of him, holding his free hand and giving him those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t resist. That would be why he wouldn’t meet your eyes, why he was looking everywhere but you, because he knew damn well he’d give in if he looked at you. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Oscar, please!” You dragged the word out, jutting your bottom lip out. “It’ll be fun!” That was when he finally looked at you, raising one of his perfectly arched eyebrows, a look that said ‘fun? Yeah right.’ “No, I’m serious. It’ll be fun. It’s like.. a cool, adventurous date night. When’s the last time we went out on an actual date together?”

“Jamal is going. I don’t think it’d be a date night if that travieso is going.”

“Okay, date night plus one. Baby, please come on. I want you to go. You don’t have to be scared. I’m sure it’s not haunted. Jamal said it was just rumors, and rumors are almost always just that - rumors. People see an abandoned creepy house and automatically assume that it’s haunted when it’s probably not.” You said, interlocking your fingers with his own. His fingers immediately tightened around your own, giving your hand a small squeeze. He took in another drag, those dark eyes you loved so much staring right into your own. The setting sun was hitting him just right, giving his eyes a honey colored look. Under the glow of the setting sun, he almost looked ethereal. Perfect.

“I ain’t scared.” He spoke, voice deep and gruff. You scoffed, giving him a tiny smirk.

“Really? Then prove it. Come with us tonight. You can protect me if I get scared. My big, scary Santo. My Spooky.” You walked forward, closing the already small space between the two of you, settling between his legs. Given he was sitting and you were standing, he was left looking up at you, you looking down at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers drawing random little shapes on his tan skin. You leaned your head down, your y/h/c/ hair falling from behind your shoulders. The tattooed man reached one hand up and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it there and instead used it to pull your head down further and further until there was nothing but a few mere centimeters between your lips.

You could feel his lips ghosting over your own, you could practically taste the cigarette he was smoking, the Red Bull he was drinking. It was entirely Oscar and you loved it. Closing your eyes, you finally closed the gap and connected your lips to his. Each kiss with Oscar felt as if it were the first one you shared. It never failed to take your breath away. As cliche as it was, it gave you butterflies. It sent tingles throughout your entire body. And you hoped that feeling would never fade away.

The hand that was cradling your cheek/head slid down your body until it came upon your ass, where Oscar grabbed a handful of supple skin and gave it a squeeze. You let out a small giggle against his lips and pulled away, eyes opening, lips slightly wet with saliva. You gave him the look, that small little smile on your eyes, eyes shining bright. Your man let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the sky, as if he were pondering and asking god why the hell he could never say no to you.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll go. But we ain’t staying long.” You gave him a grin, leaning down to kiss his lips once more.

“Yes! It’s gonna be fun, papas!”

And nighttime came sooner than Oscar would’ve liked. He didn’t outwardly admit it, but he was low-key nervous about going to this supposed haunted house. He was entirely and completely afraid, but he fully believed that there were ghosts, spirits, demons, things of that sort and he never wanted to dabble into that kind of shit for fear of being haunted or possessed. He was more afraid of the enemy that he couldn’t see than the enemy he could.

You and Oscar had climbed into his cherry red impala and went on your way to pick Jamal up at his house and no less than a second after you had arrived, the boy had come bounding out dressed in all black, carrying a backpack.

“I’m gonna regret this.” Oscar said as he caught sight of Jamal’s grinning face. You opened up the passenger side door and scooted over so that you were in the middle and Jamal could sit down. The young teen climbed into the car, shut the door and set his backpack down on the car floor.

“Spooky. Lady Spooky.” He greeted you both. You laughed softly at the name, meanwhile Oscar just stared straight ahead, putting the car into drive and pulling away from Jamal’s house.

“Hey Jamal.” You greeted, giving him a friendly smile. Despite the age difference, you genuinely loved and cared for all of Cesar’s friends. After all the shit that they had been through, you just wanted to try and alleviate some of the pressure and stress, you wanted them to feel like they weren’t alone. Maybe that’s also why you were so keen on accompanying Jamal on his ghost hunting journey.

After Oscar had asked for the directions of this supposed haunted house, with Jamal reiterating that lots of people had said it was haunted so it had to be true, he gave the direction and you three were on your way. You were actually buzzing with a nervous excitement. You had never done anything of the sort before, even if you’d always wanted to. But you were definitely nervous of what you’d find.

“What’s in the backpack?” You asked, nodding down at the black backpack that looked full to the brim with things. The over excited teenager gave a triumphant grin as he leaned down ever so slightly and scooped it up. He dropped it down onto your lap, the opening facing his direction, and you let out a little ‘oof’.

“I thought you’d never ask. Okay so, after finding out about this abandoned/ haunted house, I decided to create a ghost hunting pack. I ordered some stuff online. Let’s see..” He unzipped the backpack and began pulling things out one by one.

“I got this spirit box. This shit was not cheap either so it better work.” He pulled out this relatively large contraption that you probably didn’t know how to use.

“What’s that for?” Oscar piped in, taking his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance over at what Jamal was holding.

“This is basically for whatever entity or spirit is present to communicate with us. We just turn this on, ask questions and wait for someone to talk back to us.” He set the spirit box down on his lap and then rummaged around the backpack again.

“A flashlight. I seriously doubt that janky place has functioning electricity. We’ll definitely need this. Also got us some walkie talkies incase we need to split up and cover some more ground.” You were genuinely amazed at how much stuff this kid could fit into a single backpack. And how seriously he seemed to be taking this entire thing.

“I also got this Digital thermometer to tell when the temperature has dropped. Apparently when there is an entity present, shit gets cold real fast. Let’s see… Oh! I also have holy water! And I brought the Bible. And a ouija board.”

“You fucking what?” You asked, lifting the backpack open to reveal that there was indeed a ouija board, a bible and holy water sitting inside.

“Oh hell nah. You ain’t using the ouija board up in there. You about to make us get a ghost.” Oscar said.

“And, don’t you think that if we used the ouija board while having these religious artifacts, we could potentially let something.. I don’t know, demonic in and make it angry?” You added.

“Okay first off, get a ghost? What the hell? How do you get a ghost? Do you purchase it? Is there a ghost store that I don’t know about?” He shot his words at Oscar, face twisted up in confusion. Oscar’s face had annoyance written all over it. You rested your hand on his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Second of all, that is why I brought the holy water and the Bible, woman! You two are amateurs, seriously. If we were to potentially let something demonic in, we’d fend it off with holy water while reciting words from the Bible. Besides, Oscar has the cross necklace and the cross tattoo. No ghost or demon is fucking with him. Although, I did hear that demons usually tend to possess people who are angry, upset, vulnerable. Not that Oscar is vulnerable, but he looks like he’s about to pop a vein half the time. He’s ground zero for a demonic possession.”

The car went dead silent. You bit your lip to keep from laughing or snickering. Jamal went silent because he thought Oscar would boot him out of the moving car. And Oscar went silent because he was now genuinely pondering if he’d get possessed. He saw The Conjuring, he saw what that shit did.

“Jamal.. maybe you shouldn’t say that to someone when we’re about to go and investigate a potentially haunted house.” You said, glancing over at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. The young teen, eyes wide, mouth in a nervous smile, nodded his head rapidly.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean just forget what I said, seriously. It’s probably factually incorrect. Besides, they’re just rumors, about the house being haunted and all. Although, the rumors and speculation have come from many people so I don’t think all those people would be making that shit up-“

“Jamal! Zip it!” You quickly said, not wanting Oscar to back out and end the ghost hunting trip before it even began.

“Yeah okay, shutting up.”

The drive to the house lasted about four to six minutes more. Soon, the impala came to a stop in front a decrepit, creepy two story house that had grass and weeds growing wild all over the place. The fence that was probably once white was now rusted. The house itself had paint that had chipped away overtime. Graffiti decorated the walls. Some gang tagging, some random names, random drawings, stuff of the sort. It was just as creepy as everyone had said. You couldn’t imagine what the inside was like.

“Okay, let’s do this, team.” Jamal opened the passenger side door, his backpack repacked with all of his supplies situated on his back. You turned and looked over at Oscar to find him with an apprehensive look on his face. You gave him a small smile.

“You’re seriously not afraid, are you? Everything will be fine. Come on.” You leaned in and pecked his lips before climbing out of the car. You shut the door behind you, the driver’s side door following suit. Oscar came up next to you and you immediately took his hand into your own and laced your fingers together. With Jamal leading the way, the two of you followed behind him past the rusted gates, up the dirt and overgrown grass covered path that led up the rickety front steps.

“Okay, how are we doing this? Are we splitting up? Sticking together?” You asked.

“We ain’t splittin’ up. We’re stickin’ together.” Oscar interjected before Jamal could say anything. Jamal suddenly whipped around, coming to a stop in front of you and Oscar. He shone the bright light into your faces and you and your boyfriend recoiled from the bright light. You held your hand up, pushing the flashlight away. The teen then held the flashlight underneath his chin, illuminating his face.

“I think we should split up. That way we could cover more ground.” He said, still illuminating his face. Oscar on the other hand, was not relenting, and you knew that even though he had said yes to you, it didn’t mean he’d agree to split up.

“This is non negotiable. We ain’t splittin’ up. You didn’t even bring enough flashlights for us, genius.” The older male pointed. Jamal switched the flashlight off and nodded his head.

“Okay good point. Fine, we’ll stick together.” He quickly pulled his backpack off and rummaged around, pulling out three items. “You, hold that.” He thrust the Bible into your hands. “And you, take this.” He handed Oscar the holy water. “Just in case. We need to be fully prepared and take precaution in case there already is some sort of demonic infestation.” He spoke, all the while pulling out the Digital thermometer and switching it on. Once he had it in hand, he situated the backpack on his back again, picked his flashlight up and switched it on.

“Let the ghost hunting commence.” Finally descending up the porch steps, Jamal came to a stop in front of the front door and you could see that the boy was actually starting to get nervous now. With his flashlight nestled between his arm and his side, he slowly twisted the doorknob with his hand and for a few seconds, you thought that it might’ve been locked, but the door opened. A few creaks were heard and it had the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Jamal stepped into the house first. “Hello ghostly spirits that inhabit this home. We mean you no harm. We come in peace!” He belted out, announcing your presence.

“Oh fuck this. I ain’t goin’ in.” Oscar suddenly said, letting go of your hand, refusing to set foot inside the house. You and Jamal whirled around to face your skittish boyfriend.

“Are you serious? Are you really scared right now? Your name is Spooky! You run a gang but you’re scared of ghosts? Invisible beings?” Jamal asked, incredulously. Oscar clenched his jaw, eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey, this shit is scary! My tio from my mom’s side of the family got a ghost when he was two years old and he was never the same again. After that, he only walked backwards!”

“He was two! Maybe he just liked walking backwards!”

You shook your head at the bickering, a breathless chuckle leaving your lips - Oscar had told you countless time about his uncle that only walked backwards after he had been supposedly possessed, but each time you still found it amusing. Deciding not to waste time listening to the bickering of your boyfriend and actual teenager, you pushed past Jamal and into the house, taking the flashlight from him in the process.


“What the- What the hell? I am the appointed leader of this ghost hunting trio, I hold the flashlight and the thermometer.” Jamal finally snapped back to reality at your actions and he snatched the item back from you.

“Well, leader, if you and Oscar would stop fighting, maybe we could actually get some shit done. If something is here, I’m sure you two just woke it up with your loud ass voices.” You commented, shooting Oscar a look. “Baby, you promised.” You held your hand out, the hand not holding the Bible, out to him and he reluctantly took it, stepping into the house that would fuel his nightmares for days to come no doubt.

“See? That wasn’t so bad was it, Spooky? You walked into the house and did anything jump out at you or possess you? No!” Jamal sassed, pointing the flashlight at your seething but definitely frightened boyfriend. With teeth clenched, he looked at Jamal.

“If I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you.” He said. Jamal gaped, mouth open like a fish.

“Okay, okay! Stop, children. Let’s do this. Come on.” You snapped you fingers, lightly smacking Jamal with the Bible in your grip.

“Okay, yes. Let’s not get distracted from the mission.” Jamal whipped around, flashlight scanning around the empty but dusty, dirty room which appeared to be a living room. The entire house gave you eerie vibes. Despite the bickering going on mere moments ago, the hair on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel goosebumps rising on your skin.

“The temperature is the same. Oh wait, it dropped. Oh my god it dropped like one degree. Okay, something is definitely with us. We need to whip out the spirit box”

“Jamal, I don’t think that really tells us that anything is here.” You said, looping your arm through Oscar’s, finding comfort in the warmth he provided.

“You’re right. Let’s keep looking. Let’s go in here.” All three of you walked into what you assumed to be the living room, scanning around. The moonlight was creeping in from the busted windows, not leaving you entirely submerged in the dark which you appreciated.

“I’m gonna whip out the spirit box and see if we can make some contact.” Jamal kneeled down, rummaging through the backpack until he pulled out the spirit box. He set the thermometer down in the meantime, firing up the spirit box instead. It emitted this loud noise, almost like white noise you hear on a television when nothing is playing. Except it was loud and it definitely gave you the chills and the creeps.

“Hello spirits that may be present. I’m Jamal. That’s Oscar and Y/N.” He introduced.

“Why in the fuck are you using our names? What if they find us or some shit? I aint trynna have a ghost that knows my name.”

“Ignore the angry man. He’s terrified right now.” Jamal said, shooting a pointed look at Oscar. You gave his arm a squeeze glancing up at him.

“Relax baby. Everything is gonna be okay. Even if there is something here, I highly doubt that it’s bad.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder. He said nothing, just leaned down and kissed your temple.

“Is there anything or anyone here right now?” He asked. All three of you remained quiet, waiting with baited breath, waiting to hear if something actually responded back. But nothing came. And you didn’t know if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Is there anyone in the room with us?” Again nothing. “Is there anyone in this house besides us?”

“Up.” The three of you stood taller, eyes wide and alert, hearts hammering in your chest. At least your heart was beating erratically at that point, shocked that something actually responded.

“Uh.. can you.. can you say that again please..” Jamal’s voice quivered as he spoke, and mere seconds after he said it, the distorted, monotone voice was heard again.

“Up.”

“Up? Up.. What do you mean up?”

“Doll.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. It said doll. What the freak..” Jamal exclaimed, eyes wide.

“It said up and it said doll. It probably wants us to go upstairs. Come on.” You let go of Oscar’s arm, despite his protests, and rushed over to where the stairs were, using the moonlight as a guide. You hid behind the wall and listened as rushed footsteps hurried closer to you, Jamal murmuring about how you all agreed to stick together.

“Bebe, don’t fuckin’ go off like that in a house like this-“ But neither of the guys finished what they were saying, ranting, about. As soon as they had both rounded the corner, you jumped out from your hiding position and screamed, scaring them both.

Jamal let out a shrill yell, jumping back, while Oscar let out a very loud and audible fuck while jumping back as well. Meanwhile, you were laughing, hands on your knees, lips pulled back into a wide grin.

“Got ya asses! Pendejos.” You exclaimed, still laughing. Jamal was calming down, and Oscar looked just that bit more freaked out, glaring at you.

“Christ on a cracker woman! What the shit was that? You just can’t be sneaking up on people like that! Shit!” He exclaimed.

“I’ma get you back, just watch.” Oscar spoke. But of course, you didn’t take his threat seriously, and it wasn’t like you were actually scared. You knew he’d never hurt you, and he had been scared by you enough times to be used to it. But it never failed to make you laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had to. I wish I had a damn camera to take a picture of that.” You said, calming down. “So, are we going upstairs or what?” You asked, looking at the guys, hands on your hips.

“We are going up the stairs. And you, missy, better watch yourself.” He pointed his index and middle fingers at you before pushing past you to walk up the dusty stairs. You stood by Oscar’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Don’t be mad at me, babe. I had to do it. It was priceless.” You said. “I’ll make it up to you later.” You said in a softer voice.

“You fuckin’ better, Chiquita.”

With Jamal up ahead of you, he opened up the first door he came upon, shining the flashlight in the dark and decrepit room.

“Uh, guys.. I think I found the doll..” He spoke, creeping a little further into the room. You and Oscar followed behind Jamal, eyes wide and searching the empty room. Strewn on the floor, illuminated by the flashlight was a raggedy ann doll. It was torn up and covered in dust and dirt. The fact that it was just laying there was creepy as hell.

“I’m not liking this shit. Not one bit.” Jamal murmured, still pointing the flashlight at the doll, almost as if he were waiting for it to jump up. You sighed, removing your arm from around Oscar to walk closer to the doll.

“Jamal, this thing isn’t Chucky. It’s not gonna come to life and jump out at you.” You knelt down and picked the dirty doll up. One of the eyes was missing and the face was just as dirty as the rest of it. A sense of dread filled you when you did that.

“Uh.. Y/N, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The original Annabelle doll, the one the movie is based off of, was a raggedy ann doll just like that one.” Fear had crept into Jamal’s voice.

“Hey, shh. Be quiet.” Oscar suddenly spoke up. The three of you went silent and listened. Coming from down below sounded like footsteps, like someone was walking around the house. They weren’t loud, but they were still audible. Goosebumps creeped up over your skin and you immediately let go of the doll, gravitating towards Oscar’s side. Sure, it was all fun and games until you actually started hearing shit.

“Someone’s here.” Your boyfriend said, on high alert now.

“Someone.. or something..” Jamal said. “Okay let’s go one last session with the spirit box and then get the hell out of here.” He said, firing up the box once more.

“How about we get the hell out of here now. I been on these streets a long time and I ain’t gonna die in this sucia ass house.” Oscar said, hands balled up, antsy and anxious to leave.

“You are not gonna die, Jesus Christ. Would you take a chill pill?” Jamal said. “Spirit, ghost, demon - whatever you are. We came upstairs and we found the doll. Are you here with us?”

“Jamal.” It said.

“Oh shit.” The boy in question said.

“Y/N.. Oscar.. Out.”

“Out.. it said out.”

None of you had the chance to say anything else because coming from what seemed like the next room over was a loud crash that sent the three of you jumping and reeling backwards.

“Okay, I know I scared you guys earlier but that wasn’t me. Holy shit, that was not me. What the fuck was that?” You asked, your voice taking on a more frightened tone, you hands clutching at Oscar’s arm.

“Fuck this.” Oscar reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a black gun he had tucked in there, for safety.

“You brought a gun?!” You and Jamal both said at the same time, both looking at your boyfriend incredulously. Oscar clutched the gun in his hand, looking over at the door as if he were expecting someone to burst in.

“I sure as fuck wasn’t comin’ out here naked.” He said, voice deep and husky.

“Well shit, what in the hell are bullets gonna do against a ghost? Nothing! Nada! There’s no use in that! You should’ve brought a water gun! Filled with holy water! I even supplied the holy water and you’re holding it!”

“Then maybe you should’ve brought the god damn water gun if you’re so-“ Oscar was cut off by the spirit box, which was still turned on, letting out a distorted ‘Get.. out..’ Which was promptly followed by a loud bang that sounded much closer. You and Jamal let out screams, and Oscar put the gun away and reached out to grab you, urgency in his movements. Meanwhile you reached out to Jamal, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with you.

“Okay, we’re leaving. Now!” Neither you or Jamal protested. Instead the three of you hightailed it the fuck down those stairs as if your asses were on fire, the three of you too freaked out to even consider staying any longer. When you reached the bottom level of the house, there was no sign of anyone being down there. It wasn’t like there was many places a person could hide given the minimal amount of furniture.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, another loud crash which sounded a lot like a door slamming shut, came from above, prompting you all to run even faster towards the front door. Oscar pulled it open, the door slamming and bouncing against the wall from the sheer force of your boyfriend’s actions. The three of you ran down the porch steps, down the path and to his car.

You pulled the door open and practically flew inside the car while Jamal and Oscar quickly followed suit and climbed in. There wasn’t a second’s hesitation as Oscar turned the key in the ignition and started the vehicle, making quick work and pulling away from the curb and driving away from the house.

His hands were clenching the steering wheel so tight you could see his skin s starting to turn white. Meanwhile your heart was thundering so loud in your chest you could hear it in your ears and you wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar and Jamal could hear it too. The boy beside you was panting, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

“Holy shit balls.” He finally broke the silence that had fallen the three of you as Oscar went well past over the speed limit to try and get away from that house. “There are ghosts in that house. It is haunted. There is something there. And we witnessed it. Holy shit, team. We did it!” He exclaimed, looking at you and Oscar.

“Yeah we did. We probably got a fucking ghost.” Oscar said, briefly looking at Jamal.

“Well.. my money’s on Y/N. She’s the one that picked up the doll after all.” This time it was your turn to glare at Jamal.

“Jamal! Callate!” You said. Oscar, from beside you, let out a deep laugh.

“Come on baby. Don’t be scared.” You knew he teasing you, you could just hear it in his voice. And when you looked back at him, he wore that damn smirk on his face. You scowled at your boyfriend, arms crossing over your chest. “Don’t be scared. You wanted to come and ghost hunt.” He said, driving to Jamal’s house to drop him off. “Keep that same energy.”

“Just like you said to Jamal - if I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you, mi amor.” You threw at him, a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Okay in all seriousness - I heard that there was another supposedly haunted house a few miles from here. When do you guys wanna go and explore that one? Next week? Friday? Satur-“

“How about never. We ain’t doin’ that shit again. You can go by yourself next time, homie.”