#…….so next what about streamer! Luci- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairytail-whathesays · 5 months

Note

If they were in modern times, which guys do you think would have an Only Fans?

I had to think about this for an entire shift at work so I apologize but you're getting way more than you bargained for with this ask. 'Cause it exploded into a whole AU of its own. I was sharply reminded of gaysquaredwrites' Fairy Tail Gr!ndr post while I was thinking of it and it made me laugh a lot.

Also I know you said 'guys' but we're including the ladies because I could never neglect my sapphic audience.

Just as a reminder, sǣx work (spelling it that way to avoid Tumblr sniping me) is valid work, and to treat sǣx workers with respect or die by my blade.

In order of amount of subscribers, from least to greatest:

Milliana (😺) [365 subscribers]

Milliana has an OnlyFans account where people allegedly pay to see her interact with her seven cats. She is a cat-owner and cat lover, and regularly makes content doing daily household things while interacting with her cats. She genuinely has zero idea most of her subscribers are less interested in her pets than her body. It's not even like she walks around scantily clad, she's just very pretty and easily attracts attention. She hopes to use the money she saves up to open a cat cafe sometime in the next few years.

Bacchus Groh (♂️♂️♀️) [708 subscribers]

Bacchus owns an erotic channel where he uploads homemade sǣxual encounters. Almost all of them are with men, though there's a few with women, and he has a drunken frat boy image that's...basically his normal self. His content's actually really popular and has made the rounds being re-uploaded on various adult sites, but the reason he doesn't have more subscribers is that he almost never posts. There's no reason for it, he's just lazy and dislikes going through the video editing process, especially if the OF website or corporate is being annoying.

Cana Alberona (🃏) [1,543 subscribers]

Cana has an OF where she does indeed upload sǣxual content, though it's strictly solo. It's not that she has anything against collaborative content, and she knows it would bring her more money, but she holds back out of apprehension about what might happen if her dad found her channel. Not that she stays abstinent, as she doesn't particularly care what Gildarts thinks, but there's still that lingering part of the back of her brain that doesn't want to be 'that girl' who disappoints her daddy for life, so she's never uploaded anything with a partner.

Besides her solo erotic content, she also does a variety of other content, including tarot readings you can request for a tip.

Lucy Heartfilia (♂️♀️) [5,897 subscribers]

Lucy has a very successful channel that she co-runs with her husband, Loke, collaborating with both men and women. They're good friends with Natsu and Gray (another couple involved in the OF scene), and have collaborated with Gray before. You might think Loke would have an issue with sǣxual occurrences between his wife and other men (and women); he doesn't. In fact, he's her cameraman and director. There's nothing weird about it, their relationship is just that healthy, and Lucy's fans online frequently talk positively about Loke and hype up their relationship. And yes, he and his wife have filmed content of their own.

Lucy's OF is actually a big enough production that it encompasses other content creators, such as their housemaid who goes by Virgo (who was able to launch her own channel thanks to the attention she got from Lucy's), who film most of their collaborative content exclusively with them.

Gray Fullbuster (♂️♂️) [6,244 OF subscribers] & Natsu Dragneel (🎮) [12,891 Twitch subscribers]

Gray and Natsu are another couple, married to one another, in the OF scene. However, it's only Gray who does the OF stuff--Natsu is actually a really popular Twitch streamer who plays video games for audiences.

Both of them are pretty open about what their husband does for a living and Natsu actively enjoys the content Gray makes with other men. Which is a good thing, 'cause that ain't no 'habit' in this verse, Gray's just an exhibitionist. With both of them being relatively successful independent of one another, they're able to funnel fans from both sides of their content to the other and boost their own numbers. Their partnership, like Lucy's and Loke's, has inspired a beloved fandom, although theirs comes with abundant memes about "why he ___ in me and then start playing LoL", etc.

For a while, Natsu's Twitch channel got shut down bc of how candidly he talked on-cam about his husband doing sǣx work, which was deemed inappropriate (read: a threat to advertisers) by Twitch. The calamitous uproar that immediately ensued caused a very swift reversal of this decision and an apology for errors made.

??? & Rogue Cheney (♂️♂️⛓️) [8,088 subscribers]

Gajeel Redfox is not a name publicly known, and in fact the OF channel he appears on mostly features his boyfriend/life partner/subm*ssive/eromenos Rogue Cheney.

These two are another OF couple, and the reason they don't have more presence online is because rather than being current up-and-comings, they're some of the veterans on the platform, having spent the longest amount of time f/cking their way to success. They upload less frequently compared to their contemporaries, and aren't as active on social media, but their paying fanbase is one of the most loyal out there.

The channel is technically Rogue's, and most of the content is him doing solo stuff with a hardcore BD/SM bent. Much more rare are appearances by his unnamed dom (Gajeel), only ever shown from the neck down, who does very dom/sub stuff to him with a very professional practiced air and is very, very rough and aggressive during sǣx--but oh-so-gentle during aftercare. Rogue is very aware that a lot of his subscribers are only there for the peeks at Gajeel, but he doesn't mind--they're united in bottom thirst that way. Rogue is very popular on his own, mind, with quite a bit of his content seeing the occasional re-upload, but Gajeel being the rare gem that pops up on occasion means he can charge PPV prices and get more returns on the more intense (and lucrative) content.

Bixxxlow (♂️♀️☿️ ⚧️) [+12k OF subscribers, +700k subscribers across all platforms]

Bickslow does everything. He's not just an OF creator--though he is successful at that, rest assured--he's gone viral on TikTok multiple times, and uploads everything from gaming to cosplay to clickbait content.

He can thank his business partner Freed Justine for most of this, as Freed is an expert marketing engineer and has made the algorithm his bitch. Thanks to this, he stays busy, and nearly his whole day, every day is spent filming content of some kind.

Bickslow's popularity on OF is not quite as viral but it is definitely consistent--he has socials with upwards of 120k subscribers, and in light of that, having over twelve thousand people paying to see him in wild three/somes is pretty cool, and he has absolutely no qualms talking about sǣx work openly. His OF is relatively expensive--he can charge higher since he's so popular--but it goes on sale very very frequently. It helps that he's a huge exhibitionist, and k/nky as all hell, making the lǣwdest of content as easily as he breathes. That long tongue and his willingness to use it for fǣtish content has proven to be hugely lucrative.

Out of all the creators listed here, Bickslow is by far the most fǣtish-friendly and willingess to try things for custom PPV requests, and he's also very prolific with collaborations--he's collabed with every other creator on this list (save Cana and Milliana) anywhere from once to every few weeks or months.

Because he does a lot of content with transgender individuals, some idiot twitter user once posted about him "fǣtishizing" them. Bickslow responded by lifting his shirt and showing his top surgery scars (and then advertising the bottom half exclusively for paying subscribers).

Mirajane Strauss (♀️♀️♂️) [+80,000 subscribers]

Ah, the Queen herself.

Mirajane has always been a huge hit among the adult content industry, flat-out being one of the most successful sǣx workers on the platform, especially given she was never signed to an agency either in the legitimate film industry or the p/rn industry. Many websites among the latter that have seen how much money she rakes in have tried to offer her contracts, but she's never accepted.

She does both fashion modeling and adult content work, and does the latter both solo and collaboratively--frequently with women, but also with men, too. Her sweet demeanor is incredibly attractive to the point of her basically having her own fandom--she even has a name for them, the "Mir-rors".

Although she primarily does sǣxual content, Mirajane also does other things for her channel like cooking and especially singing. She actually wanted to be a singer as a career, and had some mild success early on with covers posted on YouTube, but her first foray into OnlyFans blew her waaaaaaay up and completely overshadowed any other aspirations of hers. She does still regret that she can't do singing for her main job, as the stigma of sǣx work keeps music agencies from being willing to pick her up, but she's made peace with having it as her kind of side gig.

Her entire channel is one-sub only, with no PPV content, and she regularly donates tips and other excess earnings to charity.

Sting Eucliffe (♂️♂️♀️) [+100k subscribers] 👑

The enigma.

Sting Eucliffe took the world by storm some couple years ago, and he's the most successful OnlyFans account on this list by far. Possessing a charm that crosses somewhere between boyishly cute and bright and dangerously bad boy, Sting's just...got it. He's got that body and that smile and those eyes and that charisma that makes you come back for more (with money). Like with Mirajane, numerous p/rn studios have approached him, but all have been turned down.

Identifying as bisexual, his content's mostly with other men with some women thrown in. He's technically a solo act, but collaborates very frequently, having zero trouble landing basically anyone he wants in bed and being well-connected to several other acts on this list. Although he's not as wild and k/nky as Bixlow or intense as Gajeel and Rogue, he's still relatively fǣtish-friendly and loves doing custom PPV requests.

Sting does basically everything--fǣtish content, nǣked music covers, nΩde cooking, risky public maneuvers, basketball games all sweaty and shirtless, paid voice calls and facetimes, and boyfriend roleplay, too. His merch line is incredibly successful and he regularly shows off stuff his fans have gotten him from his wishlist. Everyone who knows him or has collaborated with him calls him one of the friendliest and most fun partners they could have had. Part of the reason his content is so attractive to viewers is that there's a lot of smiling and laughing, he's a very fun guy in general.

Not only has he collaborated with Bacchus, Lucy, Loke, Gray, Natsu, Bickslow, and Mirajane at different points, but his collab with Rogue outright happened because Gajeel contacted him and said Sting was his boyfriend's favorite OF creator after himself. So successful is Sting that, like Virgo with Lucy, he has a few other sǣxual content creators that have collabed exclusively with him:

Larcade, real name Rakheid, whose face had to be hidden as his day job is as a priest. The PPV he recorded with Sting was one of the hΩrniest, most depraved hours he'd ever been awake for, and one of the most successful content Sting ever made. They promised that if it was successful enough (it was) and if Larcade ever needed spare change, Sting would f/ck him in the church after hours.

Orga Nanagear, a professional bodybuilder whose OF was, up to that point, basically just working out. It was unexpected for everyone who watched it, but the video of Orga f/cking Sting damn near braindead for over an hour and in several different positions went as close to viral as OF content can be, bringing in an absolutely massive amount of money from thirsty gays. Orga had requested his face be hidden, despite the fact that his tattoos are so distinctive that basically everyone knew who it was.

Laxus Dreyar, whose face and name were also hidden but for much better reasons as he has a well-connected job as a weatherman for a big channel, and while his tattoos wouldn't connect him to anyone who'd seen him on television, if anyone saw his face it'd immediately expose him and get him fired. Laxus' collaboration with Sting made them both rich, it got a huge amount of returns when the PPV went out. They've only ever collabed once, but every thirsty idiot subbed to Sting has been praying for another hook-up between them since they saw the first one.

Despite how successful he is as a creator, Sting is very secretive. "Sting Eucliffe" is a stage name, of course, but nobody knows that his real name is Weiss Logan, except himself.

And there you have it! Welcome to the ns/fw au that will now consume you (hopefully, 'cause if this post gets like 3 notes i'll feel really awkward).

#natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #lucy heartfilia #laxus dreyar #gajeel redfox #sting eucliffe #headcanons #spicy content #nc17

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

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sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

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haliyam · 3 years

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Asset

zeke x reader/oc, slight levi x reader/oc

summary: Levi slips into the Liberio internment zone during the festival and finds himself distracted. (Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead)

Reader does have a background that’s hinted at, default name Lucy, but if you have the InteractiveFics browser extension, please feel free to use it to change your first name! This is actually part of a series I'm hoping to write (brain willing lol), but this can stand alone too.

AO3 link if you prefer to read there

hello! i haven’t been on tumblr in a while but stumbling back into aot made me need to write something, and everyone’s fics and gifs here are amazing!

Jean looks around, tilting the brim of his hat forward just before they cover his eyes. “You sure about this, Captain?”

“Nothing wrong with making sure they haven’t caught on,” Levi nods, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. “Or that that bastard hasn’t changed his mind and informed on us to his superiors.”

Jean’s eyes flicker to his at the very thought. He spots a familiar hesitation in them, but it’s quickly fettered away with a nod. When Levi is sure he has nothing more to say, he returns it, and Jean departs for the crowd with a casual swagger that belies his doubt.

Levi hasn’t asked them their opinions on this operation. Of course, they’ve all offered it anyway—but Hange has decided, and he trusts their decision. On that point, the Scouts had all agreed.

Today the internment zone gates are open to all visitors, Eldian or not. Triangular streamers of all colors canopy the streets, and flutes and drums and instruments he’s never heard sound out in joyous cacophony in the near distance, tempting curious ears from beyond the gates. The festival is definitely a trap—but admittedly, a beautiful one. He’s never seen this much cheer since Historia’s ascension, or maybe since they retook Wall Maria. Back then he hadn’t exactly participated, much less left his quarters until it was later and Hange insisted he show himself… but this celebration is in full swing. Between Jean, Connie, and Sasha, Jean was the best choice to bring along. He’s the most likely to stay on track.

...Which is why it shames Levi when he’s caught off guard staring into a stall filled with all kinds of … food, he can only guess. Onyankopon introduced them to new desserts, but this is different. Bright and vivid, the tangy scent of them fills the air, but they’re not lollipops or candy or chocolate. He was supposed to turn the corner into an alley right before this one when he spotted it, and now…

“Here.”

A packet of one of the strange desserts is shoved into his face so quickly that he almost darts back. He reins it in at the last minute, only fixing a glare upon whoever dared invade his personal space like that, much less present themselves as a threat.

You.

A young woman in a simple dress, hand clasped around a packet of mouth-watering orange-yellow strips of the stuff.

“Here,” you smile politely, apparently unfazed by the suspicion he levels at you.

“What is that?”

“Dried mangoes,” you reply, taking a step or two closer to let your arm relax. “You were looking at them, right? They come chocolate-covered, too, but I say try these before the other variants.”

He doesn’t answer. The people manning the stalls beneath the vivid tents in the festival have all been overly friendly, but that’s par for the course, and they know to turn to their next prospective customer when he quickly walks past. Damn his own eyes. They almost make him regret his rule not to accept anything from anyone unvetted. “No thanks.”

Now you give him a different look. A curious one, which makes him almost curse under his breath. He’s supposed to blend in; not draw attention to himself. Levi turns away, heading down the road again and meaning to turn for the alley once he’s shaken you, but you’re already walking next to him.

“Have we met?” you ask, still looking at him.

“No.” He thinks he would remember if you had. And this isn’t good. Now you’ll try to commit his face to memory.

But you look away instead as you bar his way once more—down, to be specific, so you can fish a small piece of the dessert from the packet and take a bite. “Not poisoned,” you promise, clearly biting back a grin while you pause to chew. Infuriatingly, you begin to mirror his squint. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

He stares at you, and is still deciding between bewilderment or irritation when you continue, “It’s not a bad thing. I’m glad that you decided to drop by.”

“What?”

At least the look he gives you makes you recoil just a little now. That’s more what Levi is accustomed to. But it doesn’t stop you from talking. “You’re not from the zone,” you answer, motioning to his bandless left arm. “Not many outsiders want to come, in spite of the festival… so thank you for giving it a chance.”

You extend your arm again, your hand and the packet almost touching his chest in this renewed offer.

He really shouldn’t be doing this. He should be pointing you toward a distraction and leaving, or otherwise putting you off to the extent that you voluntarily leave him alone yourself. But the hope in your gaze is too tender to spoil, reminds him of too many in the past who deserved more than him to be here now—or it’s the festival getting to him.

With a sigh, Levi takes a strip of dried mango from the packet and watches your lips curve upward into a bright smile. He shakes his head, barely just stopping from rolling his eyes as he thinks about how you probably picked a dessert far too sweet for his tastes—but he’s in for another shock when he takes a bite and finds it sour instead. Well, sweet in parts and sour in others. It’s different, but he doesn’t dislike it at all.

It must show on his face as he chews, which is terrible, because you take it as an invitation to speak again. “They’re from the southeastern archipelago. Eldia never conquered much of that continent—and thank goodness for that,” you seem to add quickly for good measure, “but it did pick up a few of their delicacies. It’s common Eldian fare whenever they’re in season.”

“I see,” he says, just to be forgettable. “Thank you.” It’s likely that being rude will make someone like you remember him more, and that isn’t his goal here today. As he swallows the strip (it was too small), Levi almost doesn’t notice you nudging him forward toward the next stall. But he does, and he gives you a look. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You grin sheepishly, knowing you’ve been caught. “I never meet non-Eldians within the zone. Especially none like you. I'm going to tour you around the stalls a little - I know the scents might be confusing, and the armbands are… well. But there are good, honest people here.”

“That so?” the remark is aimed toward you, because his suspicions remain, but he realizes his mistake when your eyes look even more earnest than before.

“There are. And good food, as you can tell,” you say proudly. You offer him the packet again. “Let me show you.”

He should really get going. He and Jean mean to rendezvous in an hour, and he still hasn’t left the festival grounds.

But the look in your eyes tells him you’re going to be very annoying if he refuses. Or maybe that’s what he tells himself when he lets you.

This is how Levi finds himself guided around the festival that afternoon, getting all sorts of history lessons on food (and tea) as he tries them - but only bites, and very reluctantly of course, because he doesn’t care to get too full before tonight, when his stomach has already begun to turn. It’s that he knows he has no right to enjoy himself with the novelty of this event, with the optimism in your quiet laughter when he balks at the spicy undercurrent in the skewer of meat you have the audacity to stick into his hand. Not when he knows what’s going to happen tonight. Not when he doesn’t even know your name.

You tell him, finally, when you take a break by a quiet corner in the festival. Over here they’re selling older Eldian art pieces, some painted and others carved figurines, and the scent of lacquered wood faintly invades his senses. He gets a brief respite only when you lean closer to him to let a passing merchant through. Lilies. “I’m Lucy. I thought you should know the name of your tour guide.”

The name sounds familiar. It’s probably a common one he heard during their last visit.

You’re holding your hand out to him, expectation now in your gaze. He’s clearly spoiled you.

Levi stares at your hand. He doesn’t care to shake it, but again—better to be forgettable. He wracks his mind for a name.

“Kenny.”

Kenny? Levi inwardly sighs.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kenny.” You exchange a good, solid handshake, but you are quick to pull away immediately after. Why? Has he been compromised?

He hopes not, as you give him a reassuring smile and look ahead. At the far, far end of the next avenue is the plaza where the crowds will settle tonight, but you can’t see it from here. “Are you here for Willy’s play tonight?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Between you and me,” you say, leaning just a bit closer again as you move on from the area and smile at a waving shopkeep, “It’s probably going to be boring. I would leave after the festival.”

Levi looks down at you, meets your gaze with a critical eye for the first time since your meeting. He ignores the way the afternoon sun sets a golden highlight around your hair. “You think so?”

If you notice, you deflect his look with a little snort. “The Tyburs,” you almost spit the name, with a venom not unfamiliar to someone in his line of work but uncharacteristic enough of what he’s seen of you that he spares you a blink. “The Tybur family’s official policy is to leave the rest of the Eldians on the wayside while they live in their beautiful estates. Why speak now?” Your hand, gentle all this time paying the vendors, passing him food, tossing it in your mouth, now clenches at your side. “He’s a coward. So…”

You trail off, biting your tongue as you turn away briefly. Hatred is something far too familiar for Levi to balk at, and so he doesn’t. Because it wasn’t hatred he saw in your eyes, but a strange defeat. He has to wonder, but he stops himself before he can. That will be moot after tonight.

“He’s saying something now,” he replies blankly, letting you hear the shrug in his tone. He doesn’t really care to defend someone with only a few hours left to live, but maybe he feels guilty for knowing even that much. Death has always been a certainty in his life, but the how and the when? “Some people never say anything at all.”

His words break you out of your stupor. It appears you weren’t really talking to him after all, but now he wishes he bit his tongue. The idea of you leaving before the play actually sounds like a good one, and he should not have gainsaid it.

“I suppose you have a point,” you say, looking slightly abashed at your outburst. Sighing, you gesture around the area. “So what do you think? Not bad for a home of devils, right?”

The question has him turning toward you so sharply that you begin to squirm under his gaze. The truth is you’ve been able to deflect his uninterested, even hostile expressions so far, but this one is new. His eyes are walled off for the most part, but a telling indignation flashes across his grey eyes so quickly you wonder if you even saw it. He sees it in the way you search them.

You gulp and then clear your throat. “I lived here when I was younger,” you explain, appearing both frightened and encouraged. Ultimately unable to withstand his gaze, you start to walk again, down the road toward the plaza.

He hardly notices himself following suit. “You left?” You were allowed to?

“My family isn’t from Liberio,” you admit, slowing to keep apace. “I came here to join the Warrior program when I was little.”

Now the expression in his eyes is indecipherable, but curiosity gives it the smallest edge as his gaze flits to your armband. Pale grey, almost white.

“I didn’t make it,” you say, quickly, since bringing up Marley’s prized Warriors with anyone from outside of the motherland is an awful idea this soon, “so I was called back home. But I had fond memories of this place, all things considered, and now I’ve chosen it as mine.”

A strange feeling now worms its way into Levi’s chest. He’s already managed to shut off his thoughts and apprehensions about tonight’s operation - they can’t afford doubts, after all, and anyway those have never stopped him from getting the job done - but it makes him uncomfortable.

“Where do you live?” Will you be spared the worst of it?

You look surprised, but you smile all the same. “A few blocks from here. An old doctor and his family let me stay with them when I was little, and I still stay there now. Now I… work at the hospital in the zone.”

“You’re a doctor too?”

The question seems to dismay you. “Not exactly.”

He frowns before he can help it. “You’re pretty dodgy for a tour guide.”

Now you can’t help but laugh in what almost looks like offense. “Me? I’m the one who’s been talking about myself, between the two of us,” you say, your indignation diluted with your ringing mirth. It sounds clearly over the din. “I don’t even know where you’re from!”

“You do. Not here.”

Levi feels the side of his mouth quirk when you laugh at such a small remark, but you manage to get a hold of yourself before he can respond.

You meet his gaze again, shaking your head in disbelief, and something appears to click in your mind as your lips part with revelation.

“You’re a war veteran, aren’t you?’

Levi graces you with another blink. “What?”

“I won’t ask where,” you promise again, raising a hand in surrender. “You just remind me of someone I’ve met at the hospital.”

He quirks a brow. “How should I take that?”

“Oh! Not as an insult!” you laugh again, covering your mouth, but your lips are pursed, still stifling another smile when you lower your hand. It takes another moment for you to compose yourself. “I meant rather that… you have soulful eyes.”

His soulful eyes stare straight at you, utterly deadpan. “Soulful.”

You stand by it, clearly suppressing mirth again. “Soulful.”

Levi sighs with some exasperation, as if to wonder how his life choices have led to him having to put up with all this, and it must be the most you’ve gotten out of this man since you interrupted his consideration of those snacks. Somehow you can tell that even his irritation should flatter you. “Anyway,” you say, when he seems resigned to all this, “if you aren’t completely sold on watching the play tonight, maybe you can drop by the hospital instead.”

Levi narrows his eyes at you. “Why would I do that?”

“Well… we don’t get visitors often. But the patients always appreciate them.” After a pause, you add, “Not always. But even just sitting with them is something.”

His furrowed brow relaxes. Not that he’ll be able to say yes - not that he wants to - and not that he’s ever cared all that much for bleeding hearts. It’s really more the determination in your gaze that gets him. Like you’re not exactly going to take no for an answer, or worse, and maybe closer to his heart, that you refuse to let the possibility cross your mind.

“There’s one patient I would love to introduce to you,” you continue, when you catch the hesitation in his silence. “He calls himself K—“

“Lucy?”

A familiar voice calls your name from amid the crowd. The smile that simply illuminates your features as you turn to look over your shoulder draws Levi’s eyes to yours rather than to your mouth this time.

Before you can look, a pair of arms encircles your waist, a beard nuzzling your neck while you squirm and laugh, trying to elbow your way out of the embrace to no avail. It’s token resistance that leads only to his nose nudging at your jaw, mouth grazing your neck. “Zeke, stop!”

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he murmurs, his glasses nudging your cheek, whisper tickling your skin. “Meeting ran late. You know how Magath is.”

“I know,” you say as you manage to wrangle your way out of his grasp. “But please don’t do that in front of my new—“

You glance to the side with an apology ready for him, but Levi has disappeared. Your hands grasp Zeke’s sleeve for balance as you get on your tiptoes, but you cannot spot his hat among the crowd.

“—friend.” You frown. “He was just here.”

Zeke quirks a brow. “Who?”

“Kenny,” you say. “He was wearing a dark suit and a fedora. Just a little taller than me, black hair… you didn’t see him? And—are you all right?” You reach for his fingers, kneading at the pads of them with yours. “Your hands are so cold.”

Zeke shakes his head, dismissing your second question. “A little taller than you,” he enunciates instead, withdrawing his hands to make a show of stroking his beard. “So did I see another runt? The answer is no, sorry.”

You give his hip a light smack. “I’m not a runt. I’m taller than Pieck!”

“By an inch.” When you make a face at him, Zeke smiles, hands pawing at your shoulders before running down your back and pulling you to him, your chest flush against the wall of his stomach. “Do you want us to look for your Kenny?” he asks, his thumb ghosting your lip.

“He’s not my Kenny,” you give him a look, even though he knows his hands are already giving you other ideas. His other one is stroking your waist. “I just thought he looked lost.”

“My bleeding heart,” he says fondly. “You can’t save everyone.”

You shoot him a look that he ignores. This isn’t the place to get into that discussion, so you shrug it off. “I guess I was imposing on him. At one point he seemed like he’d rather drink rotten milk than listen to me. I just thought we’d built a rapport...”

Zeke snorts. “Okay, okay. I’ll listen to you.”

You squint at him. “Don’t let me twist your arm.”

He grins, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “I think I let you do a lot more to me than just that, Miss Blanchard.”

The flush that predictably spreads across your face makes him laugh, that warm, hearty chuckle that makes your knees weak. He bends down to touch your lips with his, smiling when you seek his mouth to deepen the kiss. Your hand fists around his shirt, the slightest hum of enjoyment from your throat drawing him further into your thrall, but the nudge of a passerby makes him pull away after a moment. His lips envy the disappointed pout that seizes yours as he closes your hand around his. Zeke lifts it to plant a more chaste kiss to your knuckles in apology.

“But before all that,” he says, “how about that festival date you promised me?”

Zeke gives you a questioning look, as though a part of him might actually doubt that you’ll say yes. Really it’s that he wonders if you’ll still gaze at him with those tender eyes this time tomorrow, but you can’t possibly know that.

You shrug, intertwining your fingers with his. “I’ll let you twist my arm.”

“You let me do a lot more—“

“Yeager...”

“Heh heh.” He withdraws his hand so he can wrap an arm around you instead as he guides you back to the heart of the festival. “I ran into the others while looking for you. The kids wouldn’t shut up about some good wrap nearby—and while their faces were full of pizza. What do you think?”

You lean against him, unable to help the warmth that you practically radiate as he holds you. He knows it too, pulling you closer. You shrug him off briefly to take a last glance around for Kenny, but he really is nowhere to be found.

Ducking back under Zeke’s arm, you smile. “Why not?”

Out of sight, trying to stave off the nausea, Levi watches the pair of you walk away from beside one of the many festival stands littering the avenue. How couldn’t he have realized who you are? Lucy is the name of the asset that sack of shit wants retrieved before the operation begins. He had wondered why, thought it some political ploy that would come into play later on. He didn’t expect the reason to be so... mundane.

He can’t believe he almost felt worried. He knew there had to be something strange about you, ignoring how he was clearly trying to get away. Had you been taunting him? A trap, just like this festival?

It hadn’t seemed like it. Your smile appeared to be genuine.

Not that it matters. He gets smiles all the time that he doesn’t care for; why should a beautiful woman’s remain with him or be any more noteworthy than another’s?

Dismissing the sight lingering in his mind’s eye, Levi turns for his true objective. He’s wasted enough time.

...And anyway, any person who would take up with that monster probably has some skeletons of her own.

Levi supposes he’ll find out later.

---

Thank you for reading! :)

The series I mentioned planning should be zeke x reader/oc, but because levi is very tempting, I'm also planning/considering a levi/reader AU (or ending??) of the ending post-rumbling (we'll see).

EDIT: This is a oneshot which can stand on its own, but if you're interested in a series I've posted the first two chapters of interim, the first of the Zeke-centered fics I mentioned I intended to write! It's a prequel that starts in Liberio after Zeke, Pieck, and Reiner come home post-S3. It'll go into Reader/Lucy's relationship with the Warriors, particularly Zeke, + how exactly they ended up where they are here in Asset. Levi makes a return appearance once we get to the sequel to Asset, going into the Raid on Liberio and onward.

EDIT 2: And if you'd like something completely Zeke-focused in the same year as Asset, here is a short fluff oneshot to accompany art I commissioned of Zeke and Lucy. It will have Lucy's appearance there (and I suppose her appearance is a spoilerish for the family name which you will discover in interim chapter 1), so if you don't want to see what she looks like then don't click it or just scroll down before the art loads. XD these trivial moments takes place some time before Asset, but still within the month that passes between the end of the Marley Mid-East War and the Raid on Liberio.

#zeke x reader #zeke x oc #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x oc #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #slight #eventually maybe #zeke yeager #levi ackerman #jean cameo because i love him #aot #snk #haliyam #asset

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join-the-joywrite · 3 years

Text

what if I was made for you (and you were made for me)

Luke finally shows Julie his baby photos (and a little truth about himself) aka Mara's trans!Luke hc

Read it on AO3 here!

Luke and his mom had an unspoken agreement. The baby photos album never left the shelf when other people were around. It had been that way since Luke was about fifteen. Girlfriends, boyfriends and best friends came and went over the next couple of years, but the baby photos stayed up on the shelf and collected dust. Only three people outside Luke’s house had ever seen the album -- but they’d all seen it well before Luke decided it needed to stay hidden.

So when Luke brought Julie home one afternoon, Emily was baffled by the strange looks her son was giving her. While Mitch asked Julie all the questions he wanted, Emily and Luke had a quiet conversation of their own.

Eventually, fed up, Luke pointed to the shelf and mouthed, ‘Photos’.

Emily’s eyebrows shot right up. “Oh!” Julie and Mitch turned to her. She smiled. “Julie, I hear Luke hasn’t shown you any baby photos.”

Julie gasped. “It’s true! My dad keeps mine out around the house and Luke here has laughed at nearly all of them. I’ve been wondering when it would come back to bite him in the ass.”

Emily stood up and walked over to the shelf, preparing herself for all the dust. With Julie distracted by her anticipation, Mitch glanced over at Luke and raised his eyebrows. Luke shrugged. Though he did his best to appear nonchalant, anyone watching him would notice the way his shoulders tensed up as Julie took the album from Emily.

He leaned further back into the two-seater he shared with Julie as she smiled with Emily, the album falling open to a random page. His arm lay limp on the couch behind Julie, afraid that if he moved it to hold her, it would put all her attention on him.

"Watch me laugh at all your weird themed birthdays," Julie said, half-glancing at Luke.

The Pattersons shared several glances over Julie's head as she finally focused on the album.

"Oh."

Luke leaned forward slightly to see what exactly she was looking at.

A nauseating volume of bright pink filled the page, from the tablecloth to the streamers and balloons, to the toddler's grass-stained dress, to the fondant letters that spelt 'Lucy 5'.

The house was silent, save the general hum of electricity, as Julie turned the page. She smiled first at plump little five-year-old Lucy, holding up a monster truck toy with a gleeful expression before turning to her boyfriend, older by twenty years, and smiling at him. She ruffled his hair in the way she knew he loved. "Someone grew out of his chubby cheeks nicely, hm?"

Luke smiled, a laugh escaping on the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Luke's parents shared a smile as Julie turned a page and let out a gleeful cackle.

She glanced at Luke before pointing to the toddler. "You don't get to make fun of my six-year-old self dressing up as Twilight Sparkle when you dressed up as Rainbow Dash for Halloween."

"Rainbow Dash is so much cooler. Change my mind, I dare you."

"Ha! You wish!"

Julie spent the next few minutes paging through the album, cooing at the toddler that slowly transitioned from Lucy to Luke as time went by.

"You were nerdy in high school, huh?"

"I was not. I was in a band. I was cool."

"Yeah, right. You wore a snapback."

"Snapbacks were cool then!"

Emily and Mitch shared another smile as Julie and Luke laughed together over the album. Dinner went as smoothly as Luke had hoped and as he walked down to his car, hand in hand with Julie, he couldn't help his broad grin.

"What's that look for, my love?"

"Nothing. I just . . . Only the guys ever knew that I'm trans. I never told anyone because I don't know how they're gonna react and losing people is scary."

Julie clicked her tongue and stopped walking. She patted Luke's cheek lightly. "The only way you're gonna lose me, mi amor, is if you name our next dog after another eighties rockstar."

"Oh, come on. You know you love Sebastian Bark."

"Maybe."

Julie turned to continue to the car. Luke tugged on her wrist before pulling her into a hug.

"I'm not going anywhere, Luke," Julie murmured, taking her fingers through his hair. "Not in a million years."

"Even if I have more big things to share?"

Julie smiled. "Not a chance."

"Okay good, because Bark Jovi is waiting for us at Alex and Willie's."

Julie stilled for a second before she laughed. "You're lucky I love you," she said, kissing Luke's cheek before turning and heading to the car, pulling Luke behind her.

"What if we get a third dog and we name it--"

"No more dogs! And no kids either if you're gonna behave like this."

Luke's eyes lit up and Julie couldn't help her fond chuckle at the dopey smile Luke wore.

“Get in the car, Luke.”

“You said kids!”

“Maybe. Now get in. We have a dog to pick up, don’t we?”

“Kids!”

“Don’t make me leave you here. If I pick that dog up alone, I’m renaming him.”

Luke got into the car, still looking his happiest yet. Julie shook her head and smiled before getting in herself. Whatever the future held for them, Luke was about to be banned from naming animals and people -- just in case.

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #jukebox #julie x luke #trans luke patterson #trans luke my beloved #mara writes stuff

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dork-empress · 2 years

Text

Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 6

The Joker and his daughter are finally united, and Gotham faces the terror of a father/daughter team.

All these chapters can be found on my Ao3 (link in my description, or username genericfanatic), or in my lucy quinzel tag

The Joker circled the girl, poking at her. “Hmm,” he said, considering. She stared blankly up at him, as though she was taking him in, just as he was to her, “So, you’re the next model of me, hmm?”

“That’s one way of thinking of children, I suppose.” She said, “I think of them more like a reboot.”

Joker beamed, staring down at her. She smiled up at him, a mirror of his face.

He burst out laughing, a nice long cackle that echoed around the chamber. “You ARE my daughter!” he said, picking her up and spinning her around. “I’ve always thought about having kids, but was never crazy about changing diapers or driving a mini-van and all that. Oh, what a wonderful gift Harley’s given me! I ought to send her a basket.”

“You won’t hurt her, will you?” the girl asked, as he set her down.

His grin only widened, “Why dearest, I have no REASON to hurt her. Unless she gives me one, of course.”

She tilted her head at him. “Why do you like hurting people?”

He chuckled, “Because! It’s funny, of course!”

She scowled, not angry, but confused, “That’s not how comedy works. There’s set up, tension, relief. And if they’re dead, it’s not like they can enjoy the joke.”

“Death is the ultimate relief!” Joker said, laughing, “And the joke is to make ME laugh! They don’t matter.”

She widened her eyes, tiptoe-ing over to him in a dancer’s pose. “So you feel that too?” She said, “Everyone else, they’re all…all not real? Like nothing is real.”

Joker bristled for a moment as she spoke, “You really ARE my daughter,” he let slip, no humor in it this time, “Of course nothing’s real. That’s why none of it matters! All these stupid rules normal people make up to follow, just to try and give themselves purpose.” He fake gagged, “Makes me sick. They should be THANKING me! For bringing joy into their lives!”

Now the girl circled him, examining him as he had done to her. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. “No, that doesn’t seem right,” she said, like they were having a debate, “Just because they’re not real doesn’t mean they don’t matter.”

“What are you talking about?” He said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She smiled, “People can be beautiful, if you allow them to be.” She said, “What do you care about?”

Joker’s eye twitched, but he broke out into a smile. “Why, I care about you, darling dearest! You truly understand, just like me, the chaos of this world. We will make everyone else realize it too.”

Lucy blinked up at him, thinking long and hard. It was unnerving, even for him. Mostly because it felt familiar. “No, I don’t think so,” Lucy finally said.

“What?!” Joker demanded, “Then why did you even come here?!”

Lucy tip-toed around the lair, an abandoned party store Joker had made a new home in. “I wanted to meet you. To see if you were like what everyone said. To see if you were like me.” She tilted her head, running her hand over the shelves with old broken streamers. “I think you are, in a way. I wonder…did you once have red hair like me? Do you dye it, or is it a wig? When you were young, did they try to make you normal too? Did your parents feel this way too? Did you ever love my mother?”

“ENOUGH!” Joker yelled, losing his composure. He marched over and grabbed at her arm. “You’re an impudent little child aren’t you? But don’t worry, Father Dearest has ways to make his little tots behave.”

Lucy didn’t even struggle in his arms, just tottered behind him as he dragged her to the back room. She didn’t even seem scared, as he pulled her to the large surgical bed.

“YOU PROMISED!” Harley yelled, swinging her giant bat at Batman. Batman jumped out of the way, though the hit came closer than he’d like to admit, “YOU PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!”

“Harley, she left!” Nightwing shouted at them. Poison Ivy stood between them, not letting anyone interfere. It had been a week, but they finally managed to get a hold of the pair and tell her what happened.

Harley didn’t seem to care. She yelled again, mascara running down her face as she attacked at Batman. He refused to do anything but dodge. “My baby! My little girl! You said you’d help keep her away from him! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Harley smashed open a crate on the empty roof where they had met up. This was enough for Batman to disarm her, holding her still.

“I promised to do what I could,” Batman said, “But she went willingly, and there’s only so much I can do to stop that.”

“I don’t believe you,” Harley said, “She wouldn’t do that! She knows what he is she–”

“That’s why she went, Damian said, perched on the roof access stairwell. Everyone looked up to him. “She had to know for herself. To know if she was really like him.”

Red Hood snorted, “Of course, she’s a clown, after all,” he said, “Only natural she’d end up fucked up as him.”

“You wanna go back in the grave, Red Stain?” Harley snarled, approaching him this time.

Batman stopped her. “Robin. What do you know?”

Damian stared down. “Everyone’s told her that the Joker is awful and she shouldn’t be like him, but we never acknowledged that she could be like him.”

“She’s nothing–”

“She’s his daughter too,” Batman said, “Whether she ends up like him or not, she deserves to know about him.”

The radio sputtered to life, “Batman,” Oracle said in all their ears, “there’s a break-in in south Gotham, 911 calls are coming in about a girl dressed like a clown.”

“Send me the address,” Batman said, “Harley, we might have a lead. Damian comes with me, everyone else, go back to sweeping the city. There’s more crime in Gotham than what happens here.”

Jason grumbled at him, knowing he was being sent away to stop him doing something drastic. Reluctantly, he left with the others.

By the time they made it to the Apartment, it was clear whoever did this was long gone. There were slashes in the wallpaper and footprints on the ceiling. Clear signs of struggle lead them to the body of a woman, college aged, it seemed, fallen on the ground with her neck split open.

“I’ve been here,” Damian said, looking around, “Lucy brought me here, to give someone a care package.”

“Was it her?” Batman asked.

Damian shrugged, “We left it on the doorstep, I never saw her face.”

Harley slammed her bat into the wall. “Fucking hell!” she yelled, “We missed her! And she’s already…he’s done something to her! You know her, she’s a fucking goody two shoes, she wouldn’t–” Harley cried, fat tears running down her face. “I…I promised her. When she was born. I promised she wouldn’t be like me. Or like…” She trailed off, but they knew who she meant.

“Batman,” Oracle said in their ears, “I’ve got security camera footage of the attack.”

“Send it here,” Batman said, projecting the data from his forearm. Harley and Damian gathered around him.

It was a single angle shot of the hallway. It was a girl, although it wasn’t clearly Lucy, just someone of her height and build. She wore a yellow and purple dress and had a green wig instead of her usual pink. Most notably she had a porcelain doll mask covering her face.

The girl who now lay dead ran from her, desperately trying to get into her door, panting and beating on the wood. The clown girl walked slowly after her, humming a song, with long pauses in the middle of the melody for breaths.

“It’s her voice,” Damian said, “It’s strained, but–”

The dead girl on the video abandoned her attempted break in and rushed away. The clown sped up after her, using the wall as a jumping off point and lunged at her. She took out a tambourine and slashed at the woman’s neck, the bells sharp as knives.

The clown stood over the dead body, then walked away out of camera.

“The song,” Batman said, “It was the Beatles.”

“Blackbird,” Damian said, “I know.”

Any doubt he had vanished. This was Lucy, and she’d turned killer.

Lucy walked down back to the abandoned party shop, blood still on her tambourine.

Joker beamed seeing her. “Well done, my dear!” he said, “You’re on the news!”

He showed her the image on the screen he’d had his goons hook up for him.

Lucy turned to it, blankly. Or, so Joker assumed. Her face was covered in the mask of course. On the tv was the news clip of security footage about a clown-themed killer that was rumored to be working with the Joker.

She didn’t move. He hoped to see a little shake, at least, maybe even crumple on the floor. “Poor girl. She was just getting her life together,” Joker said, twisting the knife with practiced efficiency. “You know why I made you kill her, don’t you?”

Lucy tilted her head like she was thinking, and then shook it in answer. “Why, if you’re going to be my side kick, I need you to get rid of these silly attachments you have. All these missions trying to make stupid small people’s lives better. I want you to see how little it matters.

Lucy shook her head, making a “mm-mm” sound. “No?” Joker asked, “What, you think you know better than me?”

Lucy nodded.

Joker narrowed his eyes. He pulled his glove on, and smacked her across the head, sending her to the floor. “NEVER contradict me! Good little girls listen to their fathers.”

Lucy was not getting up. He didn’t hit her THAT hard, honestly. When he came over, he saw she had chalk and was writing something on the floor. There was a crack in her mask.

In scrawling letters she had written ‘Want to break me.’

Joker smiled, then laughed, “Well, how about that, you were right after all!” he said. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to standing, “I do want to break you. My own flesh and blood, you can’t resist. I broke your mother and I’ll break you too. Until you’re REALLY insane.”

Lucy shook her head again. “You think so? You think you can resist?” Lucy nodded. Joker smacked her again, the mask cracking further. “Well we’ll see about that. I got you a present. BARRY!”

A goon jumped from the back room and ran forward, pushing with him a magicians box. “You know this trick?” Joker asked. Lucy nodded, but he pressed anyway, “the magician’s assistant walks into this, and then the magician waves their wand, and the assistant disappears!”

Joker pulled a gun out of his pocket and handed it to Lucy. “Your magic wand, my dear.”

Lucy turned it on Joker immediately. The goon gasped in fear, hiding behind the box. “Ah, ah, ah,” Joker says, “You know better than that, now don’t you?”

Lucy held for a moment, then lowered. “Now!” Joker said, “For your lovely assistant!”

With a flourish, Joker opened the box. Inside, Delia Quinzel struggled, pulling against rope bonds, and her mouth gagged. She screamed best she could through the cloth, but couldn’t move or resist.

Lucy shook her head, dropping the gun and backing away.

Joker’s grin widened. “Deary Delia, I’m amazed we never met!” Joker said, stroking her face. She was crying, as so many did, “Raising my own daughter for me, how sweet of you. But of course, her real parents have stepped in, as you can see. So you’re not needed.”

Delia screamed, beating her body against the sides of the box. Lucy backed away further, shaking her head.

“Lucy dear,” Joker said, “You know what happens if you don’t kill everyone I tell you!”

Lucy froze, staring back at Joker. Slowly, she stepped forward. Delia yelled, the “NO!” distinguishable even beneath the gag. Joker beamed as Lucy picked up the gun, and didn’t hesitate a moment, before she fired.

Delia slumped on the floor, dead instantly. A work of mercy, perhaps, killing her so quickly. But she was in terror enough when she died.

Lucy dropped the gun and smashed it with her heel. Joker came over, taking out a handkerchief. He lifted her mask, and victoriously saw her tears. “I told you, deary,” he said, low and rumbling, “I will break you.”

Lucy didn’t respond. How could she? Joker had sewn her mouth shut.

#lucy quinzel #joker #damian wayne #harley quinn #bruce wayne

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lupins-sweater · 4 years

Text

The Brilliant Birthday

Locklye

Summary: Lockwood and Co. celebrate Lucy’s birthday

Word count: about 1.2k

For the Lockwood Garden Party Secret Santa. Hope you like it, @salty-calico

“Alright.” Lockwood clapped his hands together “Listen up! Luce should be awake any time soon. The party will not start for another few hours or so; therefore, we have time to get ready for the birthday party this afternoon. It will be held in the garden. The weather is lovely and the set up can be easily hidden from her view.”

Holly, Kipps, and George stood in a line, listening intently to the leader’s orders.

Lockwood looked at each one of them as he gave them their task for the day. “Holly. Can you take care of the food? Your cooking is divine,” he said with a smile.

“Sure! I’ll get started on the cucumber sandwiches and cake!” She rushed to the pantry to grab the ingredients.

“George! You are to pick up some doughnuts for breakfast and any decorations you think would look nice in the garden. And tell Flo to bring the gift around one.”

George pushes his glasses up his nose and quickly leaves the house after taking the money from the dark haired teen.

“And Kipps! You’re job is to decorate outside and move the foldable table and chairs.”

“Okay. And what are you doing?”

“I’ll be doing the most important job: distracting Luce, so she won’t notice the preparation,” he answered proudly.

Lucy stretches after being woken up by the bright, late-morning sun. She checks the time on the alarm clock next to her bed; it read 10:17.

Still in pajamas, Lucy slowly padded down the stairs and was surprised to not smell toast wafting in from the kitchen. She was even more surprised to only see Holly in the kitchen, well the pantry actually, making food.

“Good morning, Lucy!” she greeted. “There’s coffee on the table if you would like some. George should be here with the doughnuts.”

Right after she said that, Lockwood strode in with a pink box and sat them on the table.

“Where’s George? I thought he was coming with the doughnuts,” Lucy asked.

“Oh. He just went to do some research for a small case tonight while he was already out. Hope that doesn’t bother you, Luce. It is your birthday after all!” He took a seat right next to where Lucy was pulling a chair to sit.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect to stop getting cases just because it’s my birthday. What is the case?” she asked looking inside the box and finally deciding on a raspberry filled one.

“Just a phantasm at a popular inn. The owners used the ghost for tourists to contact it, but it craves more attention. A woman reportedly got almost got ghost touch last night,” he lied cooly. He wanted to make sure Lucy believed the made up case, to explain for George’s absence. Yes this could have been done a lot easier, but he already was too deep in the lie. He wanted to keep this party a surprise.

“That’s what you get for messing with ghosts! Honestly what people will do for money is ridiculous. Surprised DEPRAC hasn’t shutdown the place.”

She took another bite out of the sweet confection shaking her head.

“Me neither. Once you’re dressed, care to join me downstairs for some rapier practice?”

“Sure.”

——

After changing into something more appropriate for practice, Lucy went back downstairs. She noticed a wonderful vanilla smell as she walked past the kitchen and couldn’t wait for celebration after the case.

Lockwood was already swinging his rapier at Floating Joe. The twists and turns of the blade were interesting to watch; he was always flamboyant no matter the task.

“Ah. Hello, Luce! Hurry up and grab your rapier. Maybe we can practice on each other?”

“Okay.” Lucy raises her eyebrows and smiles, “Just so you know, I’m going to win.”

“What? No offense, Luce, I could take on everyone in this house with a pencil and still win.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

They both raised the rapiers and got into a fighting position.

——

Holly was putting the final touches on the two layer vanilla cake. Yellow buttercream icing stood out against the blue letters spelling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUCY” and the the blue trim. Putting her hands on her hips, Holly looked proudly at the neatly stacked mini sandwiches and the delicious medium sized cake.

Kipps was at the table drawing on a new table cloth for the party. He drew pictures of cake, balloons, presents, and even tried to draw everyone at Lockwood and Co. but it looked like a bunch of blobs with smiles standing next to each other.

George and Flo walked in just in time to finish decorating. The box he was holding was filled with streamers, balloons, and a banner which he gave to the red head who grumbled about him taking so long. But the party was set up within minutes; the food And present was on the table and streamers and balloons filled the garden.

“See. I told you I would win!” Lucy cheered.

“Only because it’s your birthday! I went easy on you,” Lockwood defended himself, crossing his arms.

“Yeah right. Sore loser.” She poked at him and smiled.

He rolled his eyes and said something about lunch being ready. Lucy went upstairs to her room to freshen up a bit. Before heading back downstairs, she donned the necklace Lockwood gave her a few months back. Today was a special day.

When Lucy entered the kitchen, Lockwood was the only person in there. She looked around confused. “Where is everyone?”

“Outside. We decided to take our lunch out in the garden since it’s so nice out. And it also happens to be one our most talented agent’s birthday.” His eyes kept drifting toward the necklace she was wearing. “I’m glad you like it. The necklace I mean,” he beamed

Lucy flushed as she recalled what the piece of jewelry stood for. “Yes. I love it. Thank you so much for giving it to me,” she smiled back.

“Oi! Hurry up! We want cake!” Kipps yelled from outside.

Lucy exited the kitchen and was shocked to see the garden filled with decorations.

“Surprise!” they all yelled.

Holly gave her the wrapped present and told her to open it before the cake which some people grumbled at. Lucy tore the paper off and opened the lid to see a little snow globe sitting at the bottom of the box. She examined it further to see a picture of Flo, Holly, Lockwood, George, Kipps, and herself smiling at the camera inside the globe.

“Thank you! This is so neat!” she exclaimed.

Lockwood patted Lucy on the back and announced that it was time for cake. While handing her a slice, he asked, “How was your day?”

“Brilliant! But we still have that case tonight.”

“I made that up.”

“What? So we don’t have anywhere to go today?”

“Nope. It was made up to distract you from the preparations for the party.”

“Oh. So what are we doing tonight?”

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s up to you, Luce.”

#lockwood and co #locklyle #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle

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keyvan-firedrake · 4 years

Text

Here is another random prompt I’ll never write but jotted down the story for. Again sorry for any mistakes I get inspired and just barf all over until I get it out...clean it up late.

START:

Lucy playing a game by herself streaming for Levy. Saves someone and they join a party with a 3rd person. The 3rd person is an ass-keeps running ahead and demanding to be helped. Lucy’s character can heal but that’s not her job. Her and her new friend team up to just do the mission together and ignore the 3rd asshole.

Her new friend and her talk for a bit-he finds out Lucy is streaming for a friend but uploads to YouTube a little bit. (Streamer icon above Lucy’s head gives it away)

New friend asks if she would like to stream with him sometime. With Levys prompting she says yes. After she’s done gaming she gets a notification on discord- her new friend DragonForce has sent her a message. He tells her he actually has a pretty good following and didn’t want her to freak out about it.

He’s really FireSalamander “Salamander”. He says why he was playing on a dummy account, so he could relax and just enjoy a game without the stress of being the best.

Lucy tells him she will need to think about it, she doesn’t know who he is, has heard of him off hand. Levy freaks out and explains, freaking Lucy out as she realizes how big Salamander, or Natsu, really is.

He’s a huge streamer part of a group of other really big streamers. They are all really good gamers and play together randomly and sometimes competitively.

Lucy almost backs out of playing but Natsu messages her again, a few times, and tells her it would just be her and him playing the game from before and having fun. That Gray would join later. He helps her relax and she agrees to keep their play day.

Natsu is a part time fire fighter with Gray, they stream on their off day’s. Erza a police officer with Juvia and Jellel.

Lucy plays, nervously, with Natsu. She had asked for her channel not to be mentioned. Later grey joins. Natsus fans love her. And Happy, Natsus cat that sits in his shoulders when he games or his lap, likes meowing at Lucy.

They play several times together, Lucy becoming part of the group. One day they all do a face cam stream for a bit, talk about life and Q&A with fans. Lucy nervously joins and Natsu about short circuits. (Quickly covers it up) and Happy meows at Lucy (he seems smart enough).

Lucy’s channel gets a following from the group and she is molded into their gang, even becoming a popular streamer on the days she doesn’t play with Fairy Tail. When he can she and Natsu play together (not always streaming). And Lucy opens up more with the group. They all try new games too.

One day, they decide to do a group meet up. Everyone takes the time off and go to Magnolia- Gray, Juvia, Gajeel, and Natsu live in the same town, Lucy is a train ride away, and the others fly or train ride in. (Levy and Gajeel (he plays sometimes too) hit it off on the trip (levy watches his streams a lot and they argue but out of crushing on each other).

When they see Each other Natsu yells Lucy’s name and picks her up, holding her and doing circles. Gray and Gajeel are roommates (Juvia and Levy stay with them Levy was supposed to stay with Lucy. She and Gajeel got together so they decided to stay together, Juvia wanted to sleep on Grays couch) Erza and Jellel share a room. Natsu offers Lucy to stay with him and Happy.

(Or they all stay at Natsus)

They go eat, play some arcade games, and dance. They record a vlog of it all, Natsu and Lucy sticking together a lot. Lucy does a sexy dance (Natsus jaw drops) they also dance together to a sexy song.

When it’s time to call it a night Natsu and Lucy got back to his house. Lucy meets Happy who cuddles on her. They build a pillow tent fort thing and laugh/joke. Tell stories and play some games together.

Next day they all go out again and spend the day together, go carts and things like that.

When it’s time to leave later that day, Lucy has a hard time saying bye to Natsu. He jogs with the train to make Lucy smile until he can’t go any further at the station.

They get back to normal life but it’s not the same. Natsu and Lucy video call and play games still, but then Natsu invites Lucy, just Lucy’s back. This becomes a thing, they visit each other and hang out. Staying at each others homes (as just friends). They keep it secret for a while.

(Play a game where they have to be mates Ark? And Natsu only chooses Lucy.)

Natsu likes horror games and eventually makes Lucy come play them with him because she’s too scared to on her own or even streaming with him.

They slip up on stream with everyone and it goes public that they kept visiting each other. It’s embarrassing and they get teased but they don’t let it stop their friendship.

Gray has man to man talk with Natsu- who confesses but says he can’t ruin what he has with Lucy.

Lucy is unsure of Natsu, until she has a talk with Gray. Then she decides to make a move. Game reference or stream thing where she asks him out?

Natsu looks up online at the train hours and books it- Natsu bursts into her house while she’s streaming and kisses her.

#keyvan talks #personal #nalu #fairy tail nalu #depression sucks #seriously

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iliumheightnights · 4 years

Text

Take a break | Edmund x M!reader

Fandom: Narnia

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x male reader

Summary: Sometimes (M/N) just needs a break from party planning. Now someone just needs to tell him that.

Fall was coming to an end and it was time for the annual ball for the winter solstice. Everyone in Cair Paravel was busy getting the castle decorated. New blue rugs and curtains began to appear in every room and hallway in the castle. Blue, white, and golden streamers hung from the roof of the grand ballroom. (M/N) stood in the middle of the giant room with a to do list in his hand more stressed than ever. He was so stressed and absorbed in his work he did not notice Edmund approach him.

“Do you ever stop working?”

“Not when a party is involved.” (M/N) said turning around to his king. “There is still so much to do and I need to make sure it is perfect for you.”

Edmund raised up one eyebrow with that. (M/N) realizing what he said immediately went into damage control. “The winter solstice is a large event and I need to make sure it does not reflect badly on our kings and queens. Don’t we?”

“I guess you’re right. But you have been working at this non stop for the past week with barely any time for yourself. So as your kind I am ordering you to go take at least two hours for yourself.”

“But I need to be here. The ball-”

“Will be fine without you for a couple hours. I’ll stay and take over in the meantime.”

“But-”

“No buts. That’s an order.”

Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, (M/N) begrudgingly handed over the list. “Yes, your majesty.”

“See was that so hard?”

Sighing (M/N) turned and walked out of the ballroom. He had two long hours he now had to fill. Maybe he’d go see if there was anything to snack on in the kitchens, or maybe take a walk through the gardens. He always did enjoy walks through the gardens. Deciding he’d rather stop and smell the roses,literally, he chose the garden. Arriving at the garden he realized his mistake. It was the ending of fall and beginning of winter, the gardens were practically dead. At Least the trees that still had leaves on them looked nice enough. He sat down on his favorite bench, it was right next to a large oak tree and overlooked the sea. Normally the breeze that came in from the sea would be nice but it was cold enough as it was.

“Why’d I think this would be a good idea.”

“Maybe because you’ve been so focused on the ball you forgot what the outside world was like.”

(M/N) turned around and was met with the face of none other than Queen Lucy herself.

“Maybe. But I really should be in there finishing everything up.”

“Oh nonsense. You need a break and you know it, you just don’t want to admit it.”

“Forgive me your majesty, I just don’t want to mess anything up.”

“I know.” She gave him a small smile before faking a thought. “How about you and I go take a stroll through the castle...just to make sure.”

(M/N) smirked at her. “You are truly wise, your majesty.”

“Oh enough of that. We’ve been friends since before we came to Narnia you really need to just call us by our names. Now come on.” With that she grabbed (M/N)’s arm and led him back into the castle.

Everything on the to-do list was pretty much done but there were still a couple of things that needed to be finished. Lucy and (M/N) continued to walk through the castle until they returned to the grand ballroom. Edmund still stood in the middle of the room trying to juggle everything. (M/N) smirked at the man. See not as easy as it seemed huh? He continued to watch Edmund work around the room. The way his eyes sparkled in the lighting, the way he truly looked magical in the middle of this large room, the way his ass looked in those-

“Why are you so thirsty?” Lucy whispered in his ear.

(M/N)’s head pulled a full 180 as he stared lucy in her eyes and whisper shouted. “I am not. I...am just making sure everything is coming along nicely.”

“Oh? So you weren’t just staring at Edmund’s butt?”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Denial.”

“I am not denying anything.”

“Yes you are. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at him when you think no one is looking. Don’t worry, he looks at you like that too.”

“He does? I mean...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay keep denying it. I’m gonna help you out a bit. EDMUND!”

“What are you doing?! Stop that!”

It was too late. Edmund was already walking up to them and Lucy turned to smirk at (M/N). The two turned to Edmund who was smiling at them. “What do you need lou?”

“Actually (M/N) wanted to talk to you. Alright I’ll be off now.”

“Wait, I-” (M/N) started.

“Yes (M/N)? What did you want to talk about?”

“I actually...How’s everything going? You look a little stressed.”

Edmund gave out a laugh. “You can say that again. I have no idea how you can do all of this.”

“It’s a gift. Do you need any help?”

“I know I said you needed a break but yes. I could use some help.”

“Hand over the list, I can see what I can do.”

Edmund handed (M/N) the list, their hands brushing. It was then Edmund realized how cold (M/N) was.

“(M/N) your hands are absolutely freezing. Why are you so cold?”

“I may or may not have stayed out in the gardens for a bit too long.”

“Really? During this time of year, did you not wear a coat?”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot, I swear you’ll be the death of me.”

(M/N) decided to be a little more brave then. “And would that be so bad?” giving Edmund a smirk.

“I suppose not.” Edmund said with a smirk of his own.

“I-”

“I-” They both said at the same time.

“Sorry you go first.” (M/N) started.

“No you had something to say.”

“I insist you go first.”

Then the two men stared at each other for a bit before they busted out into a fit of laughter. People walked by and wondered what was so funny. It was (M/N) who started talking again.

“We really are a mess aren’t we?”

“You can say that again.” Edmunds eyes wandered over (M/N)’s.

“Ed-”

“Hold that thought. I have something I want to say first.” (M/N) nodded for him to continue. “I have known you for a long time. We were friends even before we came to Narnia and I have always treasured our friendship. Which is why I’ve been so afraid to tell you...I like you. Like I really like you. I understand that a relationship between two men back in england wasn’t common but-”

He was caught off as (M/N) pressed his lips into Edmund's. The king moved his hands to hold (M/N)’s face in his hands. The two stayed like that for several seconds before they broke apart.

“You talk too much.” (M/N) whispered.

“Shall we continue this conversation someplace more...private?”

“Lead the way.”

Let’s just say...party planning was postponed that day.

#narnia #narnia imagines #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie imagines #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x male reaer #edmund pevensie x male!reader #x male reader #x male!reader

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garbagevanfleet · 4 years

Text

Learn To Leave A Room (series)

PART THREE

Pairing: Jake & female!Reader Warnings: REAL ACTUAL SEXUAL CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. Summary: Balancing relationships is hard work - God forbid someone throw a wrench into it. Notes: I appreciate everyone that likes, reblogs, and comments. There’s a special place in heaven for people like you. <3

MASTERLIST

“I am not ashamed, the story goes. I swear I will learn to leave a room without touching every part of your face.” — Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “How to Grow the Brightest Geranium,” published in Breakwater Review

The cake is perfect. It’s exactly what you had ordered - a vanilla cake with blush pink, buttercream frosting. Little edible pearls spell out Lucy’s name. It’s uncanny how perfectly it mirrors her personality.

It lives in your fridge for six hours before you head to the party, next to a carton of orange juice and a bag of baby carrots. You think about it periodically while you get ready, trying to remind yourself not to forget it when you leave.

Lucy had requested that you wear something “really cute for pictures”, so you had gone and bought the most pastel dress you could find at Forever 21 and hung it in the back of your closet.

You’re trying to figure out if it makes more sense to do your makeup first and risk smearing your foundation on the dress as you slip it on, or put the garment on first and risk dusting powder on it. You weigh the options as you lay out every product you want to use, but in the end, you decide to slide the dress on and then tuck an old t-shirt into the neckline like a bib. It looks stupid, but it gets the job done, because you do drop a pea-sized glob of concealer onto it, and it surely would have stained the lilac-colored fabric.

You run your fingers through the loose curls that you’ve shaped your locks into, and straighten your dress in the mirror. When you’re finished, you grab your keys and your phone, and you do get all the way out to your car before you realize you forgot the cake.

It’s only 6 pm when you pull up to the Kiszka house, but Lucy had texted you earlier asking if you wanted to come and help her put up decorations, so you agreed. You’re glad that you did because she’s hectically taping candy pink streamers around the supporting boards on the ceiling.

“Lucy, wow,” you say. “You look incredible.”

And she does. Her long blonde hair is in a loose, fishtail braid down her back and she’s wearing a party dress the exact color of the cake you’d brought. She only turns her head to look at you and give you a smile.

“Thanks, babe. I’d look better if I didn’t have to sweat my butt off rehanging these streamers,” she explains, shooting Josh a look, who you realize is leaning leisurely against a doorway instead of doing any work. He grins at you, feigning innocence.

“I don’t really feel like there’s a wrong way to hang them,” Josh argues lightheartedly. “I guess I just don’t know about taping shit.”

You breathe a laugh at him and cross the room to give him a one-armed hug, careful to not risk dropping the cake. He takes it from you and disappears with it in the kitchen. There are heart-shaped mylar balloons everywhere; across the ceiling, tied to the stair railing, framing the doorways.

“It looks like Valentine’s Day in here,” you say sweetly and Lucy hums back at you.

“I have a lot left to do, but isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s gorgeous,” you agree.

You had been completely distracted by everything that you hadn’t worried about Jake once since you got there, so when he steps into the living room through the kitchen archway, it knocks the smile right off of your face.

You are not sure of much in your life, but you’re positive you’ve never seen him look so good. He looks like the antithesis of this party, dressed in a ripped pair of dark-wash jeans and a button-down that’s undone down to the base of his sternum. An array of long necklaces rest over the exposed flesh.

The nerve.

Looking at him is like trying to look directly into the sun, so you try to keep your eyes trained on anything else, but it’s nearly impossible. Lucy is turned away, and Josh is still in the kitchen, so you steal a glance over again. Since you’re the least lucky person you know, he meets your eyes, and the smirk he offers you back makes you wish you could choke him to death with all his stupid jewelry.

“Can I help with something, Lu?” you ask, snapping yourself back to reality.

“Wanna spread the glitter?” she asks in a sing-song tone.

You frown deeply at her.

“Glitter?” Jake asks in a tone that mirrors your exact confusion. “You know this is a house party, right?”

She nods at him but doesn’t say anything else.

You know you can’t reason with her, but you also know that you should try. “Lucy, isn’t glitter going to be a little messy? How are you going to clean it all up?”

“I’m not,” she responds through a grin that shows her blindingly white teeth. “It’s my birthday, so you guys are.”

You feel your face fall into a sour look, but she just keeps grinning at you. After a good five seconds of silence, you sigh and she points at a gallon-sized bag of glitter on the coffee table.

“For my birthday, I’m going to make you fill this entire house with foam like a rave,” you threaten. “And then, the morning after, I’m going to make your hungover ass eat it.”

She lets out a genuine laugh that makes you feel warm, so you can’t stay mad at her.

“Wouldn’t it all melt?” Jake asks, playing along.

“Then she can use a straw,” you say, but you still end up spreading glitter across the tables.

Half an hour later, you’re trying to dust tiny reflective pink stars off of your hands when you hear Lucy gasp. She had been setting cups out on the table, but now she’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“Shit, we forgot to get alcohol!” she squeals and turns to look at Josh. “Is there anything left from the last party?”

He shakes his head. “Definitely not enough.”

“Will you pretty please make a booze run?” she begs you, looking like she’s about to cry. “I’m not even close to done here.”

“Of course I’ll go.” You start heading towards the door when Josh calls Jake’s name and it echoes through the house.

Jake calls back a “what” from his room, but you can hear him start to make his way down to the living room.

“I’ll send Jake with you,” Josh explains, and then to Jake as he reaches the bottom stair. “You’ll escort her to the liquor store, right?”

You try to stop it but your eyes pop open wide. “No, it’s okay. I’m perfectly capable of making it there and back.”

“Just go with Jake so he can help you carry it all,” Lucy insists like you’re being stupid, which you are. “You know what I like, and we need at least the same amount we had for the last one.”

You watch Josh hand Jake his debit card and then he ushers you both along.

He doesn’t say it, but you figure that Jake is driving when he leads you out to his car, and you clamber in. The bench seat is freezing against your bare legs, and you feel like it’s somehow gotten colder out since you left your house. He must notice you curl in on yourself because Jake flicks the heat on high as soon as the car is started.

On the drive into town, you’re acutely aware of the small amount of space between the two of you. There’s no center console, so the only thing separating you is a couple of cassette tapes and an unopened pack of cigarettes.

You chance a look at him and instantly regret it.

His profile is so unbelievably beautiful, from the slope of his nose to the way his hair rests on his shoulder. It’s starting to get dark out, but what’s left of the natural light makes his jaw look knife sharp. He licks his lips absently, but you can tell he’s aware that you’re staring at him now. It feels safer here, without the threat of Lucy or Josh’s prying eyes. Just you two in a glass box.

Once your brain gets the idea that you need to touch him, you couldn’t stop yourself if you tried, so you don’t. You reach over slowly and place your hand on his thigh, but you force yourself to resist the urge to slide it up any further.

He looks down at it and then over at you, and he breathes a disbelieving laugh.

“You know, you’re starting to give me whiplash,” he says, but there’s no malice in his tone. His eyes flick back to the road.

Your fingers press tighter into the fabric of his jeans as you open your mouth to speak. “I’m sorry,” you reply, but you know you’re not, and so does he. You wish you could tell him what you want, but you can’t quite find the words, so you just settle for focusing on the feeling of his leg beneath your palm. You leave it there the rest of the ride into town, but you manage to rip your eyes away and watch out your window as the shedding trees pass you by.

When he pulls into the parking lot and turns the car off, you share a blank look. He’s not wearing that cocky smirk anymore, and you think he’s truly trying to figure out what you’re going to do next. But the joke is on him because not even you know.

You head inside with him close behind you and grab a cart. A bottle or two of every type of alcohol you can think of finds its way in and you pull a bottle of birthday cake flavored vodka off a shelf. You smile down at it as you set it in with the rest. After you pick out mixers, you’ve got enough to last through three parties, you think. The cashier gives you a look that makes you think maybe you’ve gotten too much, but he rings it up all the same.

You’re about to ask him to split the tab up, but Jake shakes his head and hands Josh’s card over.

“We’ll get it,” he says under his breath.

You’re more than grateful to have him along as you pack everything into the backseat because you can admit when you’re wrong, and there’s no way you’d be able to handle all the bags yourself.

The sun is completely gone as you hop back into the front seat, so the ride back is pretty dark, and you’re a little grateful because it eliminates the temptation of stealing looks at him. However, that doesn’t stop you from placing your hand back on his leg, maybe a little higher up this time, but hey, who’s keeping track?

You keep thinking about his outfit. He normally dresses somewhat like that, doesn’t he? You can’t recall ever being quite so taken aback by his appearance. By the time you’re just a minute away from home, you’ve convinced yourself that he’s dressed like this deliberately, and it makes you wonder if he’d done the same for the last party.

He parks the car, but you don’t make an effort to get out, so neither does he. He looks over at you expectantly, an eyebrow cocked slightly.

You hold his gaze and, heart racing, you start to slide your hand farther up his thigh. His eyes flick down at it, but it isn’t until your fingertips are brushing over his zipper that he grabs your wrist. The motion is so quick that it startles you a bit. You hold your breath, suddenly worried that you’ve gone too far.

He looks like he’s considering letting you keep going, but after a few seconds he lets out a shaky laugh.

“We need to get back inside,” he says, but his voice has taken on that tone again. The silky one that commands your attention.

You laugh breathlessly back at him and he lets go of your wrist. You don’t let yourself feel like a scolded school kid as you get out of the car, but you can feel yourself blushing.

Josh opens the front door and jogs out, Sam just behind him.

“Where’d you come from?” you quip at Sam.

“I was napping,” he says through a goofy smile.

You feign outrage. “Are you telling me that I was spreading glitter and you were sleeping?”

“In my defense,” he starts and then brushes past you to open the back door to the car. “There’s no way I’d help with glitter. And being in charge of the music is a really exhausting job.”

“I’ll gladly take it over for you,” you tease. It would be nice to be able to hear yourself think this time around.

“You can pry it out of my cold, dead hands.”

Josh ushers you inside empty-handed, and you smile gratefully at him. It takes the boys two trips to bring in the bags, but as soon as they’re set down on the kitchen counter, you start to unpack them. Lucy trots up to your side, giving you a hug.

“Thank you so much for going to get all this,” she whines and you hug her back. “You’re a great friend.”

“I know,” you tease. You can see that she’s been busy since you’ve been gone. There’s now little heart-shaped sugar cookies and chocolate dipped pretzel sticks laid out around the house for snacking, and you cannot imagine a reality where there isn’t pink and white frosting puked all over this house in the morning.

You grab out five shot glasses from the cupboard as the boys join you in the kitchen. Lucy looks absolutely delighted at the sight of her special birthday cake vodka, and after pouring you each a shot, you hold your glass up and turn to her.

“To Lucy,” you say and she beams a smile at you. “And to Valentine’s Day in October.”

The alcohol is so sweet that it makes you cough, but you laugh as Lucy picks up the bottle and takes another pull. She disappears into the living room with it under her arm.

As soon as people start arriving, they don’t stop until the house is packed. You get to catch up with old friends from high school, and you drink until you’re feeling nice and loose. This time when Lucy asks you to dance, you don’t put it off. You twirl around with her, and she doesn’t let go of the bottle of vodka the entire time.

The house is warm from so many bodies and it makes your hair stick to your skin. Luckily you had thought ahead to wear waterproof makeup, so when you find yourself checking it in the bathroom mirror there are no smudges to clean up - only flecks of pink glitter dusted across your nose like freckles.

The cake finds its way out unceremoniously and Lucy’s so drunk that she just swipes frosting off the top of her slice. You watch her lick it off of her finger and then offer it Josh to do the same and you shake your head. He laughs at her, but you look away before you see anything else, opting instead to make yourself another drink.

You wind your way through people, too drunk to care too deeply if you bump into anyone. The concoction you mix is a bit too strong, but the cup is too full to add more mixer, so you don’t make any moves to fix it. You’re thinking about trying to stir through it with a straw when you notice that Jake is standing feet away from you. Has he been there the whole time? You think yes, especially when you realize the girl that’s standing between you and him is having a full-blown conversation with him. You want to laugh at the lump in your throat that feels suspiciously like envy.

He doesn’t look deeply invested, but he’s nodding and laughing at all the right moments. You’re not sure he’s spotted you until he locks eyes with you over her shoulder. It’s only for a second, but it makes your face hot, so you rip away and weave back into the living room, praying that he doesn’t think you were eavesdropping.

You sit with Lucy and Josh on the couch where Lucy is trying to talk with you about a conversation she had with a high school friend. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s too drunk, or because you are, but you’re having trouble understanding her, so you just nod along. You have no idea what time it is, but people are finally starting to leave, and it gives you the warm feeling of a successful party as people come and say their goodbyes to the three of you collectively.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about him before, but now for the rest of the night, you are hyper-aware of Jake’s presence. Every time he’s in the same room as you, your eyes are on him, and you have the sense to feel a little embarrassed about it. At first. But every sip of alcohol sees a fraction more of your inhibitions out the window.

You should be at least trying to listen to Lucy, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Jake standing by the staircase. He sets his drink down on the railing and goes to pull the pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, and looking back at you, he flicks his eyes toward the kitchen - an invitation for you to follow.

You go to excuse yourself, but Josh and Lucy are already standing to hug someone else goodbye, so you’re able to slip away undetected.

The rest of the house is really starting to clear out, but the kitchen is still the most populated as people rush to get one more drink before it’s all over. You’re easily able to shoulder past them to make your way through, and you find that Jake is already waiting for you on the porch when you get out there.

The October air is chilly, and you think you’d be colder if you weren’t so full of alcohol. Still, you wrap your bare arms around your chest to preserve heat, and you unabashedly watch his fingers as Jake pulls a cigarette out and slips it between his lips. You’re impressed with how sober he can act as he fumbles with his lighter, especially since you’ve been watching him drink all night. Once he gets it lit, you watch him take a drag.

Neither of you says a word, but the silence is comfortable as you just stare at each other. You wish you could play coy - pretend that you weren’t sure if you were going to end up fucking him, but you know, and so does he.

The way his eyes rake up and down your body makes your breath catch. It feels like his gaze is touching you, leaving your skin to tighten in its wake. You think he might kiss you - you’re hoping - and you brace yourself for it, but he doesn’t. He just smirks at you, and a drunken worry that he can read your thoughts crosses your mind.

When he finishes his cigarette, he stubs it out into the railing, then he gestures you back toward the door and follows you in. You’d only been out there a few minutes - or at least you think it was only a few minutes - but when you reenter, the kitchen is nearly vacant. The only people still lingering are Sam and a girl under each of his arms, one of them brushing her fingers through his hair. You laugh at them on your way past and receive a grin from him in return.

The living room is completely empty, save for Lucy, who has just shed her heels onto the hardwood and is currently pulling off her earrings.

“Wow, everyone left so quickly,” you remark, and you have to tell yourself not to look as Jake slips past you and disappears up the stairs.

“I kicked them out,” Lucy replies sweetly. “It’s pretty late. Hey, do you want me to stay down here with you?”

You give her a questioning look before you realize what she’s talking about. “Oh, no. I’ll be okay. I’m pretty used to sleeping on this couch.” You pat the back of it, giving her a smile.

“Are you sure? Or maybe you want to come sleep with us upstairs?”

The look Josh shoots her makes you laugh a little too loud and you shake your head.

“Lucy, go. I’m going to be just fine.”

Josh has to help her up the stairs, but as soon as you’re sure that they’re in his room, you slip into the kitchen. Sam (and his girls) have disappeared too, and you allow a sigh of relief. You fill a glass with water and sip at it with the weak hope that it’ll lessen the hangover you’re due for in the morning.

Back in the living room, you pull a blanket out of the wicker basket by the tv stand and place it over the couch. You stare at it ruefully for a brief moment before roughing it up to look used, just in case someone happens upon it and wonders where you are. A pang of nerves feels like hot fluid in your veins as you flick off the lights. As you’re heading up the stairs, you try to be completely silent. You’re relieved that you can’t hear anyone throughout the rooms, but you also eye the bathroom door, just in case anyone pops out and you have to pretend that you’re too drunk to find your way around.

You pause a second in front of Jake’s door, your hand on the knob. It’s only after you take a deep breath and count to three that you can turn the knob, even if it’s frustratingly slow.

You’re praying that the hinges won’t squeak, so you aren’t expecting it when the door is pulled the rest of the way open from the inside. You gasp as his hand finds its way to your hip and he gently tugs you into the room. He is decidedly less quiet as he shuts the door behind you with a thud.

“Jake,” you scold through a grin. You feel his fingers press into your hip just a fraction tighter.

His room is dark and your eyes aren’t adjusted yet, but you realize how close he is as he breathes a laugh and it’s warm against your face.

“Stop worrying so much,” he says, and for the third time in your life, that silky commanding tone of his has you feeling weak. He presses you back against the door and instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck. When he brings his face closer to you, the smell of smoke and cologne in his hair is intoxicating. You curl your fingers through the strands and press your body back against his until you’re flush together.

You’ve been anticipating it for so long that the first time that he kisses you, you can’t help but let out a moan at how satisfying it is. He hums a laugh against your lips, but you’re too drunk to feel self conscious about it. He tastes incredible as you start to lick into his mouth, your lips slipping together. He slides his hands down your back, slowly enough that you’re anticipating what he’ll do next. Another, dirtier sounding, moan escapes you as he cups your ass, pulling your hips closer. His fingertips knead into your flesh through the fabric of your dress, and you enjoy the warmth that washes through you.

Your heartbeat picks up as his right-hand starts to wander lower until it’s wrapped around your thigh. When he starts to wrap your leg around his waist, you think you might lose your balance, but he counters the weight flawlessly, pressing you tighter into the door for support. He situates you until his leg is between yours. Your dress is riding up high enough that your panties are what slides against the denim of his jeans. The breath you let out is embarrassingly shaky as he teasingly rocks you forward, grinding you against his thigh. It’s silent enough in the space between you two that he hears it perfectly, and your sound pulls a smug hum from his throat. You kiss him again, deeper this time because the nerves are melting away with the pressure against your core. He lets you work yourself against him, but between the feeling building in you, and the sound of his timed breathing, it becomes increasingly hard to focus on what your lips are supposed to be doing. Your face feels as hot as the point where you’re meeting his leg, and you don’t realize how wet you’re really getting until you can feel the slip of your skin against your panties.

You break away from his mouth to breathe the word “fuck” against his cheek, but before you know it, he’s pulling his leg away. You let out a whimper and mourn the loss of contact as deeply as you would a dead friend. He huffs a pleased laugh into your ear, making you shiver and when you realize he’s teasing you, you frown - even though you know he can’t see it.

“That’s fucked up.” You intend it to sound angry, but it comes out in a soft, pleading whisper. He holds you far enough away that you can see his face, and you can just make out his features in the dim light coming from under the door.

When he speaks, it’s with his hand cupping your jaw. “What’s fucked up is the way you’ve been fucking with me for weeks.” His tone is serious, but you can hear a hint of a smirk under it.

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted,” you explain through a breathy laugh.

He shoves you tighter against the door, and it doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but the strength of it only turns you on further.

He leans in and takes your lips against his again. “Don’t lie to me,” he says directly into your mouth as he pulls you away from the door and starts walking you both towards his bed. It’s clumsy because of the state of your sobriety, but when the backs of your knees hit the bed, he pushes you down on it. The slight force of the action elicits a low moan from you.

Ever ready to push him further, you lay back and run your hands down your body, slowing over every curve, and you have to bite your bottom lip at the look on his face.

There’s an old neon light plugged into the wall in this corner of the room and the dull red catches against the side of his face. The sight of him standing over you - you’re sure you’ve never seen anything like it in your life. He slowly pulls off his necklaces and they make metallic noises as he lets them drop to the hardwood floor.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” you breathe and he cracks a smirk at you. You absolutely can’t help yourself - you sit up and start helping him undo the bottom buttons on his shirt, and as soon as the skin is exposed, your mouth finds it. Wet kisses leave shiny marks along his stomach and across his hips. His hand rakes through your hair, tugging the strands lightly. You nip into the skin and the feeling of his muscles jumping at the touch makes you groan through your teeth.

Your fingers dance along the hem of his jeans, and without warning, you cup his cock through the fabric with your hand. The denim is a little too thick to feel the exact shape, but you can feel it getting harder as you palm against it. His grip in your hair tightens, maybe involuntarily, as your free hand fumbles with the button and then the zipper. You peel the fabric back and mouth over his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear.

The little noise that falls out of his open mouth makes you feel instantly wetter, and you try to grind down against the bed for some reprieve, but it’s not quite enough to be satisfying. Your fingers are dipped under the band of his briefs, just about to tug them down when he gently shoves you back again.

Your expression, eyes wide with shock, earns you a deep laugh from him. He pushes you up until you’re both fully on the bed and then crawls half over you, his hair falling around your face like a curtain.

You reach up and run your fingers through it, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp. He dips down and kisses you again, but this time, he means business. He’s got his tongue in your mouth almost instantly, and you lick against it, tasting him. He tastes like sweet alcohol, but you lose focus the second you feel his grip on your knee.

He starts to move his hand up your leg, painfully slow. When he gets to the hem of your little dress, he slides it up. His fingers press into the skin of your thigh, lightly at first, but then deep enough that you pray they leave bruises. You gasp against his lips, so he pulls away and leans in to nip at the skin on your neck.

By the time his fingers catch against your panties, you’re feeling starved for the touch. He’s not giving you any pressure - any friction. It’s feather-light, but when he brushes over your clit, your hips buck into his hand without your permission.

“Sit still,” he instructs, and it’s so sexy that it makes your eyes roll back. When his fingertips press against you again you have to press your hips flat to the bed to keep them from moving. Goosebumps rise over your limbs as he pulls your panties to the side and you feel his fingers toy along your skin before they pause.

The look on his face is a little alarming. His brow is furrowed and the area around his lips is all red from the friction against your neck. His voice is already a little gravelly from want, so his voice comes out deep. “You are so fucking wet.”

You purse your lips together and bury your head into his shoulder. You’re way past feeling embarrassed, but you absolutely cannot handle him looking at you like that. The obscene whine you let out would be a little too loud if it wasn’t muffled against his hair, but you can’t stop it as his finger drags over your folds. When it dips into you, you can feel just how truly wet you are - you let him work it into you and love every movement. At that moment, you decide that his fingers are your very favorite thing about him.

You completely forget where and who you are until you hear how ragged his breathing is getting. He moves to delve in to the last knuckle, but as his body shifts, you can feel the length of him against your hip.

“Jake,” you whisper, past the point of caring if you’re begging. “Please.”

He must be able to hear the desperation in your voice because he sits up and pulls you along with him, your arms tight around his neck. He holds your hair to the side as he undoes the zipper on your dress, and lets you shrug out of the garment. It gets set aside with care before his hand is cupping your breast, thumbing across the nipple. They’ve always been sensitive, so when he leans in to suck one into his mouth, you give a high whine from the back of your throat. Your fingers thread into his hair as his tongue circles around it. You’re thankful that he doesn’t waste too much time on them, but you can tell that he wants to. You make a note that if you ever get another chance at this with him, you’ll try to be patient enough to let him.

He slides your panties down and onto the floor before he starts fumbling with his pants. The denim is so tight that he has to work a little to get them off, and it doesn’t help that his hands seem to be visibly shaking a little. You give a half-hearted laugh at the struggle.

You are struck completely breathless, however, when he slides his briefs down and his hard cock is suddenly right there. At that moment, you decide that his fingers are no longer your favorite thing about him.

When he catches you eyeing it, he grips it and he gives it a couple of slow strokes, making a show of it for you. The fact that the sight makes your mouth water is fleetingly concerning to you, but you add another thing to your “next time list”.

You’re more than ready as he parts your legs and situates himself between them. Leaning over you, he presses his lips against yours and as he slides in, he swallows the shaky breath that you let out.

He pauses for a moment after he’s in to the hilt, giving you a chance to adjust to it. He seems to be fighting the urge to move, and you think the sentiment is sweet. So sweet, in fact, that you feel slight butterflies, their wings beating against the inside of your stomach. But you have never been so turned on in your life, and you want this.

You grip his hair, maybe a bit too tightly and look directly into his eyes. “Fuck me,” you demand through clenched teeth. The proud feeling you get from the way his breath catches will live in your head forever if you have any say about it.

He grips your thigh and hitches one of your legs over his hip before he starts thrusting into you. It feels so good that you can’t even make a noise; your lips just part as your chest tightens. His fingers have done such a good job at laying the groundwork that you feel like you’re already peering over the edge. You’re wet enough that just him thrusting in and out of you is enough friction on your clit and it feels like absolute heaven.

He’s undeniably handsome under normal circumstances but he’s so much hotter in this moment than you ever could have expected. You can’t stop yourself from playing your fingers along his clenched jaw and his pulse races under your touch as he picks up a rhythm. You have to close your eyes because seeing his face like this is too much.

You can feel him breathing hard against your cheek, and the space between you is so hot that you’re starting to sweat. You drag your nails down his back and he lets out a low hum between pursed lips. You try to imagine the red lines your fingers leave in their wake but he’s fucking you so good that all of your thoughts feel like they’re melting away before you can realize them.

“Fuck, Jake,” you whisper against his lips and he desperately kisses you, like he’s afraid that the sound of your voice is going to send him over the edge.

He shimmies up until his hips are flush against you and when he thrusts in again you have to cover your own mouth to keep yourself from crying out. The slight change to the position has him in you so deep that he’s grinding against your clit with every stroke. You’re so wet that you can feel it dripping and that thought alone makes you bite against your palm.

You can tell that he’s getting closer as his rhythm slowly starts to fall apart. He leans back and places one hand on your hip for leverage as the other starts rubbing firm circles into your clit.

A string of expletives fall out of your open mouth into your palm, and you rock your hips into his touch, desperate for more of the hot feeling building in you. You don’t have to tell him that you’re going to come - you’re sure he can tell when your eyes roll back. As a last coherent thought, you recall something about him playing guitar, and you think that's maybe why he’s so dexterous - his fingers working so precisely against your clit.

Before you can overthink it, you rip his hand from your hip and pull it up to your face. There’s a wild look in his eyes as you suck his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth. His jaw clenches tight as he starts to work them past your lips in time with his hips. He pushes them in just far enough that you can feel your throat threatening to gag.

Between his touch on your clit, his fingers in your mouth, and his cock sliding into you, the sensation overload sends you over the edge. Your eyes roll back and you can feel yourself clench around him as you come.

He fucks you through it, slowing until his thumb is just brushing over you and patiently switching to long, deep thrusts. You hadn’t realized that you’d closed your eyes until you open them again. You can tell he’s so close to coming that he looks pained, and your hazy mind takes a split second to appreciate how insistent he’s been on your orgasm. He slowly pulls his fingers from your mouth, and you make sure to tease your tongue along them as he does.

“Come on,” you say, your voice a bit fucked out. “Come for me.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, but he doesn’t wait for you to ask again. He leans over you, hands on either side of your head and starts fucking you in earnest. The rubbing against your clit is beyond intense post orgasm and you can’t hold back a whine. He feels incredible inside of you, and the sound of his jagged panting is something you never want to forget for the rest of your life.

He’s shaking as he pulls out of you and slides his cock through a tight fist a few times. He comes across your stomach with a low growl through clenched teeth and strokes himself for a moment longer.

You’re both panting as you come down from the high and you’re drunk enough that when you stare into his eyes, you don’t feel embarrassed. Your fingers reach up to tuck his sweat-damp hair behind his ear. Smiling down at you, he huffs a laugh.

He fishes a t-shirt off of the floor and gently wipes his come off of your stomach, pecking a kiss against your cheekbone as a consolation. You try not to feel too sentimental about the gesture.

He pulls on a pair of loose shorts across the room and you watch intently as the dim, red light catches the sheen of sweat across his back muscles.

“Do you want me to go to the couch?” you ask gingerly as you sit up and pull his sheet across your bare chest.

He turns and gives you a look that’s near mortified. “What? Do you want to?”

You shake your head. “No, I just-” You trail off as you reach for your panties and slip them back on. “Didn’t know what the boundaries were.”

He laughs at you, low and under his breath as he thrusts one of his clean t-shirts at you, and you slip it on gratefully. “Don’t you tire yourself out worrying so much?”

You offer him a smile and a shrug.

He crawls back into bed and pulls you down next to him. You’re not sure whether or not you’ll regret it in the morning, but you lay your head on his bare chest and press a kiss into the skin. He rubs his hand across your upper shoulders and wriggles until you’re flush against his side. You’re drunk and exhausted, and still coming down from an immense high, so you’re not sure if you’re dreaming it or not, but the last thing you seem to remember is him nuzzling his nose into your hair.

PART FOUR

Taglist: @myownparadise96

#learn to leave a room #writing #jake fic #jake smut #gvf fic #gvf smut

236 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 4 years

Text

You marry me, Alas

"Stop eating all my popcorn, they're for the tree" AU

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs Fluff Christmas Holiday AU

Okay I kept on writing because apparently it is fun, and I did a little something for my boo @tyherondaletrash who deserves the world and all the love we can give her. And tomorrow is Monday, so it’ll be a shitty shitty day for her (not for me, schools are closed;)) and I hope I can improve her mood a little.

Just gonna tell you that there’s a little angst, a lot of fluff and SHIT TON of sex references, but nothing too serious, hope you’ll enjoy it

Word count: 2,364

Thomas poured the last pan of popcorn into the biggest bowl and picked up the few who had fallen on the island before eating them. He left everything in the kitchen as he went up the stairs of their new house to go get a needle and thread.

Alastair would never agree to do such a thing, he would probably complain all the time about the grease on his hands or the fact that “food should be eaten, not used to make stupid necklaces”, but Tom really wanted to get him into the Christmas spirit. Because that would be the first Christmas they spent with their families and especially the first Christmas since Alastair and Cordelia’s father got out of rehab.

Thomas had found out from James. One afternoon, when only the two of them had gone out to make gifts to the others, out of nowhere he had asked how Alastair was taking it. Thomas had looked at him frowning, because he didn’t understand what he was talking about, and when James told him that their father was going back to London after all those months out of town, the sky fell down on him. Not because he was upset.

He had mostly panicked and text-bombing his boyfriend, who, busy with a business meeting, had not replied right away. And then Thomas had called him. Fifteen times. And when Alastair came out of the meeting he thought the other was dead. He had called back immediately and was slightly angry when Thomas told him to go home because they needed to talk. He tried to imply that he knew about Elias, but Alastair seemed too focused on the fact that he called him so many times, and so he had to be the one with the issue that needed resolving.

Tom sighed, remembering how he had had to pull every word out of Alas' lips, which eventually gave away and began to cry. He had rarely seen his boyfriend cry, but he had never felt so much hatred and anger in his sobs. It was difficult to feel affection for his beloved’s father at that time. A father who had taken away his childhood and forced him to protect his sister’s.

He found the needle in the drawer of his bedside table and took one of the little balls of white thread that Alastair kept in his drawer (for when the buttons fell from his shirts), and went down to the first floor again. He returned to the kitchen, and did not immediately notice that his boyfriend was sitting on the counter swinging his feet and eating his popcorn… his popcorn!

“Hey! I was eating those!”Alastair shouted when Thomas tore the bowl from his hands.

“Make them yourself, if you are hungry! These go on the tree. And you will help me.” he said, sulking like a child, holding the popcorn in his chest. Alastair shook his head sighing and, making a small leap to get off the island, gave his assent.

They went into the living room and sat on the carpet next to the tree. A tree that had been bought almost a week earlier and still didn’t have a single ball on it. This was due to the fact that since Alastair’s holidays had started, there hadn’t been a minute when the two of them hadn’t rolled around in bed.

Sometimes it was annoying to stay apart all day and then be too tired to do any other activity but sleeping, so as soon as the chance to spend some time together for their own business had presented itself, they had not been able to resist and had locked themselves in the house for a week, receiving complaints from Lucie and Christopher, who wanted to go out with them, but they both had repeatedly refused to make the famous double dates she loved so much and shut the door in front of a very confused Kit.

“So? How do we do these things?” asked Alastair by taking a popcorn and throwing it in his mouth.

“Certainly not like that.” muttered Thomas, taking two meters of thread for him and two for the other boy and starting to stick it in his needle, “First put the thread in the needle and then stab the popcorn, like this.” He showed it to him and continued undisturbed until a sound of frustration escaped Alastair’s control and Tom was forced to interrupt his work. Looking up, Thomas never thought he’d find himself in front of an Alastair red of rage with a twisted thread around his fingers, desperately trying not to prick himself again.

“How the fuck do you put something so big inside something so small?! It’s impossible.” Alastair’s hands were shaking from how focused he was, and that didn’t help with his task.

Thomas' eyebrows shot up and, refraining from laughing, he placed his necklace on the ground, gently taking his boyfriend’s hands into his own, stopping that tremendous trembling, “I don’t think you should make another joke like that, or I’ll be forced to leave this tree naked another day to show you how it’s done,” he whispered to him with a wink. Thomas heard him mutter something about being naked and that as far as he was concerned that tree could also burn in the fireplace. “Here.” passed the needle with the already threaded thread, “you have to hold it from here otherwise it slips out.” Alastair thanked him before he took a handful of popcorn and took it to his mouth. Thomas refrained from snorting and began his work once more. He still felt that the other was confabulating and a quick glance made him realize that he would never accomplish anything.

Not even five minutes passed before Alastair stood up and started yelling at the popcorn, which kept breaking and falling off. He stomped his feet on the ground like a child and at that point Thomas could not hold back any longer, bursting into a loud laugh, with his head pulled back.

Alastair took that laugh as an invitation to do something else and on his way to their room, took all the presents he hadn’t wrapped yet, wrapping paper and tape, before he sat down next to his boyfriend. He stared at the books he had bought for Cordelia for a whole minute before taking a deep breath and really started working.

Meanwhile Thomas seemed to have finished his first necklace and was starting the one he had abandoned. Alastair took the wrapping paper and began to rip it in half, so that he had enough for every book, but of course something had to go wrong and a sharp pain took over his finger. He looked at his hand and two drops of blood came out of his thumb, “For fuck’s sake.”

Thomas, intrigued by his boyfriend’s swearing, turned to him, giggling, “I agree. Today is not your day.” he told him, nibbling a popcorn, “Do you want me to go get you a Band-Aid? At least you won’t stain the books.” he proposed with a shy smile.

Alastair turned to him, to that boy he loved so much that sometimes he wondered how it was possible that everything was real. That Thomas was really his. That he could finally be happy, too, if he had someone like Tom by his side.

“Don’t worry, I can go by myself.” he bent down on the other, brushing his lips with his own, but the other took him by the neck of the shirt pulling him down towards him and the kiss became more intense. Alastair lost his balance, ending up on Thomas, that by now was lying on his back, his hands going up under the other’s shirt.

They split just to catch their breath, and when Alastair finally broke off, Thomas gave a grunt of discomfort at the lack of contact, “We said no sex today. And no sex will be.”

“That was a stupid fucking rule, then.” Thomas said, raising his hips against Alastair’s, making him feel how even that little contact between them made him feel. Alastair closed his eyes leaning his forehead against that of the other, laying a last little kiss on his lips. He stood up, resting on his arms and then helped Thomas, lending him a hand.

“Are you sure you want to go to the bathroom? Isn’t it that with your bad luck, you come in and the patches are gone?” Thomas joked on the way to the kitchen to get a drink. Alastair saw from the croner of his eye that he was adjusting his trouser and could not stop his mind when he thought “Stupid rule, indeed”, but they had to finish decorating the house, tomorrow would be Christmas Eve and all their friends and families would come here. Explaining to his mother that you hadn’t decorated anything because you were too busy fucking didn’t seem like a tempting thing to do.

“No you’re actually right. Could you take it fom me?” He took his finger between his lips and sucked it. At least there was no more blood.

“That shitty rule is ruining my day. At this point we would have finished everything.” he was looking at him like a lioness looks at a gazelle after a week of starving. Yet, that lioness had eaten, even too many times, wondered Alastair. He scoffed, knowing full well that they wouldn’t have done anything if it wasn’t for that one rule.

“Stop it, Lightwood, and hurry up so we can finish early and after we can do what we want.” He smiled greedily, swooped over the couch with an athletic jump and landed just two inches from him. He put the Band-Aid on him, insisting that he needed to touch him somehow, and for Alastair to take the piss out of him, those tiny displays of affection swollen his heart.

They both went back to doing what they had to do, until Alastair finished wrapping and then put all the balls there were to be put on the tree, and all the streamers. He also began to decorate the kitchen and the entrance, putting sprigs of mistletoe here and there at Thomas' request. If he had to be completely honest, that afternoon wasn’t as bad as he initially thought.

He was getting up on the chair to put the last twig on the front door, when a Christmas tune blew up the house at full volume, scaring him and making him almost fall, “Oh hell, no,” he complained softly, but he would never ask Thomas to turn it off. For some strange reason, Christmas made him ten times happier, kinder. Perhaps it was because his past Christmas had been spent with a loving family, in houses full of gratitude and happiness, while Alastair’s had all been spent hiding his father’s eggnog where he could not find it and to buy a gift to his sister at the last minute, because no one ever remembered to drive him to the mall.

He came down from the chair in silence and took it back to the counter, where he leaned with both elbows before burying his face in his hands. Stop it, he said to himself, or you will ruin Christmas to everyone, including Thomas. He took a trembling breath, trying to calm down. His father was fine. Cordelia had told him. Layla, his sweet little Layla, who had gone to see Elias alone because he had refused to see him. Layla, who had been forced to meet an alcoholic father alone after knowing a complete different person for a very long time.

He looked out the window, where the snow was starting to come down slowly. He did not notice the volume of the music being lowered, or Thomas looking at him from the doorframe, again, but this time with a hard, thoughtful look. He did not even notice him when the first sob came out of his lips and he cursed under his breath so as not to be heard.

He only noticed Thomas when he approached him with two big strides, and circled his shoulders with his arms, bringing him close to himself, cradling him as he had done every time. Alastair turned to him, hiding his face in his chest, as a liberating cry made its way into him.

Thomas lifted him from the ground and, holding him as tight as he could, went to the couch, where he sat whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

They were like this for hours, one next to the other. The forgotten popcorn necklaces on the floor next to the tree and the half-packed gifts to keep them company.

Alastair looked up at Thomas only when he was sure he was no longer crying and what he saw on the other’s face stopped his breath. There were traces of tears on Thomas' cheeks as well. Alastair sat up straight, still on his boyfriend’s lap, holding both hands to his face, “Tom,” he whispered passing a finger on his cheekbone. Thomas took his hand in his, taking it to his mouth and leaving a tender kiss on his palm, before resting it on his chest, on his heart.

Thomas looked him in the eye and as every time he looked at him his love grew and grew so much that for a second he was afraid he would explode, he was sure that he would die if he did nothing to let Alastair know his feelings. How much he loved him and how much this love grew every day. For everything that he meant to him and for everything he stood for.

Thomas had a completely crazy idea in mind, but he was sure, sure of that love. Sure that the only voice that mattered in the midst of the thousand that he heard every day was the voice of the man who stood on his lap at that moment. And he was not afraid when he opened his mouth and moved to speak, did not feel fear, only an indescribable emotion, while…

“Marry me.”

“You marry me, Alas.”

143 notes · View notes

jojoreadwhat · 4 years

Text

I should've asked you to stay, begged you to stay | b.h. x fem!reader

a/n; meant to have this out last night before the ball drop but ya know. Anywho, HAPPY NEW YEAR!! love you all so much and I wish nothing but the greatest for all in 2020. I hope you enjoy this piece. x

prompt; the ghost of New Year’s Eve past makes a unexpected visit, let’s call it a New Years resolution that should’ve been stuck to.

mentions; joe mazzello, rami malek and lucy boynton.

words; 2.6k

this tale includes angst, flashbacks, sexual tension which will lead to unprotected bathroom sex, blow/hand job, fingering and Voyeurism (mirror sex)

inspiration;

The moment you heard the guys of your group, cheer on Ben’s arrival to the party. You thought you were dreaming.

You knew it couldn’t have been who you thought it was, there was absolutely no way. The last time you glanced at any headlines on the internet or Joe would sly and bring it up in conversations. He was supposedly away on press duties.

“Benny Benny Ben-nayyy!” Joe sang, rising from his spot across from you.

“Ay, there mate!” Ben replied.

His familiar voice, drenched with rasp, laced in a thick English accent, froze every particle of you. Silencing everything in your mind before hearing the light smacks ricochet from their hearty hug.

Ben and you had quite the history. The two of you met both being friends with Joe and him introducing you while filling in as a date for Joe. It was like love at first sight, an immediate connection the moment you two learned each other’s name. You were on for nearly a year, even ringing in the last one together. But things got complicated when Ben brought up an upcoming project and the length time apart with it. At first it was a mutual understanding... until tabloids stated otherwise.

Your eyes followed in the direction where the rowdy boys stood.

Ben’s green eyes were already fixated on you when they met your own. “Hey Y/N.” He greeted first, returning with a weak smile as you closed your blazer, tighter to your chest.

It pained you that not only his presence was nauseating, but that he still looked amazing as always. The way his grey button down clung to his broad chest and biceps, tucked swiftly into his brown trousers.

His blonde little locks wavy at the top of his head, green eyes still one of the things you noticed at first glance. So potent and inviting. Lips rosy and perfectly plump, with a jawline that could cut through smoke. Everything about him where he stood, made your stomach turn into knots, ready to burst in mixed feelings.

Pulling you away from your thoughts, Lucy, who had been sitting next to you, locked arms with yours. “Let’s go refresh our drinks, love.” Helping you to your feet before you squeezed your way through the crowd.

“Did you know?!” She asked as you at the bar, waiting to flag down an available.

You shook your head, “If I knew I wouldn’t have shown up.”

It was true, to be honest, you were regretting ever leaving your couch when you stepped foot into this place. This wasn’t your scene, you were no party girl and this was just only making matters worse.

Lucy smiled, toothlessly with sympathy. Grabbing your hand in hers. “Well, I’m glad your here and I’m not going to let that blonde bloke ruin that for you!” Squeezing your hand lightly.

You smiled at her optimism, pulling her into a quick hug. Not knowing where to begin with how much appreciation you had for her, “thank you, doll!” You muttered, pulling away with a light grasp of her arms, holding her close.

“Just remind me to kick Joe’s ass at brunch tomorrow.” Leaving Lucy in stitches, “No worries!” She rested assured

“Now, let’s get drunk!” She announced, then. Flagging the bartender taking forever, “We’re gonna have a blast!”

To your benefit, the night wasn’t a complete drag after all. Your mind fled from any rut it was in hours ago. Getting lost in fresh rounds and conversation. Finding yourself occasionally up and dancing with Lucy every few songs. Laughing so much that your cheeks hurt and getting anxious at every hour growing closer to midnight, not wanting the night to end.

Even though Joe was going to hear a piece of your mind tomorrow about the guest list. You couldn’t help but give him credit with how much he outdid himself, throwing this New Year’s Eve extravaganza.

The place was dazzled in neon colors cascading throughout. Party streamers hanging from every inch of the ceiling. Noises from the celebration favors on each table or lounge from chairs. Games were being played, the DJ was turning up all good jams from college days. While the place reeked of smoke and mixed alcohol accompanying the unbelievably, packed beyond capacity amounts of bodies. Just walls and corners aligned with strangers, ready to ring in the new decade of 2020.

Taking the last sip of your drink, you announced to Lucy and Rami in conversation that you were heading for a refresher.

Bouncing to your feet and heading for the bar. Squeezing past bodies again.

“Gin and tonic.” You requested once you got the bartender’s attention. “make that two.” Ben added behind you before filling in the space next to you.

He looked at you, first. You smiled softly, grasping the opening of your black blazer that went along with your black sparkly body con. Waiting as patiently on the drinks as you could in the unbearable silence between you two.

It was taking everything in you to not want to make a scene with all the unanswered questions you had bottled up. To turn and lash out at him, blame him for everything he put you through with the headlines and news haunting the past year. But Lucy’s words stuck to you like glue, you were going to get drunk and have a great night. End of story.

“You look good.” He broke, glancing down at his hands, not sure what to expect as he took a chance. “Thanks.” You replied.

Staring down as you rocked on your feet in wait. Falling into a silence again. From the corner of your eye, Ben straightened out his posture as he took out a deep breath.

“Look I’m S-“ his words were cut off mid sentence the second you raised your hand to stop him. You turned, looking at him now, not even knowing what to say but you knew you didn’t want to hear anything right now.

Thankfully, one of your drinks had gotten done in the nick of time. Clasping it between your fingers as you placed a crisp tip onto the bar.

Ben lips were agape momentarily before they closed, “let’s just enjoy the night, alright?” beginning to turn on your heel when he grabbed a hold of your wrist, bringing your attention back to him.

“I want to enjoy the night with you.” he said, “I’m sorry for what I did. I should’ve had more faith in us, but I was scared; of us, of what it was going to do with us. I didn’t want to put you through that.”

You were taken back by what he was blurting out, each word. You only heard them in the webs of your dreams when all you could think about was him, having him back in your arms again. A sudden reminder took you away from those fairytale thoughts, knowing damn well that they were the words you wanted to hear but none of them were true.

“So, putting me through hearing about you date co-stars, having lavish vacations with a new woman for every day of the week and making red carpet debuts... you wanted to put me through that?”

Ben seen the hurt in your face with each sentence you stated. You admitting that you were keeping an eye, even with no contact for the past year gave him hope that you still cared what you once had. But hurting you was never his intent. Especially when everything falling from your pretty lips was far from the truth.

“None of that is true. I haven’t had anyone since you.” Assuring, “You should know that!” you rolled your eyes before you brought them back to Ben. “Yeah, okay. And my real name is stupid. C’mon Ben.”

“But it’s the truth! I didn’t, I’ll admit that I tried. No one could come close to you, make me feel like I once did.” Ben took your drink, placing it on the bar, intertwining your tiny hands in his large ones.

“Like I still do. I came back for you, Joe told me you were here when I told him I was on your front step.”

Your brows rose in bewilderment, “You were looking for me?” you questioned, your eyes searching every speck of his, he closed them, nodding in response.

“I should’ve never let you walk out that door.”

You were in utter shock from the moment the conversation began. Before you could process any of it, you turned on your heel again but this time with Ben in hand as you pushed your way through the crowd.

In an instant, Ben had you pressed up against the door, crashing his lips upon yours. Fighting tongues, frantically. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and needing of each other.

Ben’s hands were everywhere on you, his pouty lips in pursuit shortly, trailing down your cheek, against your jaw and down your neck. You whimpered at the warmth of them, never forgetting the spots that drove you mad as you melted within his grip.

“I missed you so much.” He muttered, climbing back up you with his lips as they eclipsed yours again.

Grinding harshly, you gasped as he pressed you flushed against the door, feeling his growing member at your clothed heat.

It encouraged you, pulling away from his lips, leaving him chase them, wanting more. You placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back towards the sink. His hands meeting the marble, keeping himself steady while you attacked his lips again, letting them begin a journey.

He sighed, pleasantly, the moment your lips met his neck and down to his exposed collarbone, peeking from the three buttons undone on his shirt. Your fingers worked the others open, pushing back the fabric off his shoulders, landing at his wrists. Trailing wet kisses down his chest and torso, Ben sneaked his fingers through your hair as yourself, dropping to your knees.

Your eyes never left his green ones as you peppered kisses over his trousers, soon buttoning them. Ben let out a soft moan from the release of pressure, so heavenly to your ears while watched you pull them down. The cheeky blonde had no briefs on, his vast cock springing free in front of you and against his abdomen. You grabbed it immediately, Ben’s breath hitched as you began to slowly pump your hand, base to tip, swiping over his slit and collecting up precum with your thumb, lubing him up.

Ben moaned loudly, “Baby please” he cried, and lowered yourself to his shaft. Taking him in.

You flicked your tongue around his tip, before you started to bob your mouth around his cock. Cheeks hollowed as you took him slow, building up, “F-fuck, you feel so good!” Groaning above you, his hand running through your hair moving strands from your face as your eyes met his. Staying steady at the back of your head, emboldening you to pick up speed.

Sucking harder, your hand running along the shaft you couldn’t cover. Ben’s groans and moans, ricocheted off the walls of the beat up bathroom. “I missed your mouth.” Practically heaving every word from his lips.

You moaned at the sight above, watching him close his eyes, throwing his head back while bucking his hips, your eyes trickled with a tear gagging a bit.

“I’m so close, y/n. Stop baby.” He groaned, watching you again. “Please stop, please please” he begged, not ready to release yet. You pulled off of him with a ‘pop’ of your lips. A sight for sore eyes for Ben, as his hands cupped your face, bringing you up to him again in a hungry kiss.

The kiss had you rotating, feeling the sink against your bum. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, love.” Ben purred between each kiss, his strong hands, so delicately, clasped around your face, lifting it to give him complete access to your neck.

Soon Ben turned you around, facing the mirror. Your hands resting on the sink, his hands slipping the straps of your dress off, pulling it down and your breasts fleeing. You watched as he seen the pretty sight in the mirror in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful.” His lips trailed along your shoulder, nipping the exposed skin and leaving you gasp at the feeling.

His hands coming up from your waist, cupping your breasts, kneading them. You arched your back, pressing your ass against him.

“Please touch me” you groaned, Ben complied with your plea, one hand leaving your breasts and heading towards your heat. Slipping under the waist band of your panties. “Oh love.” His fingers making past your mound and to your folds, slipping inside. “You’re soaked.”

Ben had you a moaning mess when he found your clit. Slow, tight circles against you, his lips vibrating against your ear as he spoke. “Look at you, so gorgeous.”

“Are you ready for me, baby?” He asked, his fingers teasing your entrance. “Y-yes. Please!”

He pulled your panties down, spreading your legs while pressing your front further into the sink. A firm hold around your body,grabbing his shaft in hand, pumping himself a few times. Before he aligned himself at your entrance from behind.

You whimpered softly at the feeling of his tip graze where you needed him most, biting your lip in anticipation but how fast your lip fell at him slowly making entry of your heat. Filling you up little by little, but so good. Stretching you out, generously. Ben carefully moved a bit, watching every facial expression of your through the mirror. Allowing you to adjust.

“Move, Ben.” Following into a moan and he nodded, picking up just a bit until an array of moans and groans gave him more to go by.

His hands all over you as he thrusted into you. You couldn't count how many kisses he had given you. How the mixing paces of fast, slow, hard, soft drove you fucking insane. You weren't even moaning anymore, you screaming in delight of how good he made you feel. How you swooned when he groaned, his teeth inviting themselves in a smile or along your shoulder. You were so immersed in how well your bodies work with one another, how you loved and were making up for lost time, so thoroughly and utterly.

You were so close to your climax, “I’m so close!” You cried. Your walls clutching ever so tightly around Ben who was nearing too. Seeing as his brows furrowed slightly from time to time through the mirror. You felt the heat rising quickly, engulfing from your curled toes to your belly.

Without pressing a warning, you cried out in absolute pleasure. Your back arching, your bum close to him as you hit your peak. The lights faded out. The sounds of breathless moans between the both of you as Ben met his too. He held you so close as you trembled and bringing his face close to yours, kissing him as he came, groaning loudly and twitched inside you. Coating your walls.

So fucked out, you both became limp with only yourselves and the sink helping you keep steady. Ben released himself from you, spinning you around to face him. He cupped your face eagerly in his hands, devouring your lips and peppering kisses all over your face.

Your arms wrapped around his bare body. Calming down with racing, restless hearts in each other’s embrace. Enjoying the sounds of your euphoric comedown before smiling at the sounds, colliding from outside the door.

“3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!”

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189 notes · View notes

writing-radionoises · 4 years

Text

family

ship: pre-relationship akuatsu / shin soukoku, implied kunikidazai

genre: pure fluff

prompt: yosano hears that atsushi has never had a birthday party and she will not have it

notes: i wrote this for atsushi’s birthday! i love atsushi very much im going to give him the world

Ring, ring, ring.

The sound of his cellphone ringing is what brings Atsushi out of the dream world, feeling around his futon for his cellphone with his eyes closed until he, eventually, finds the damn thing.

He flips it open to answer the call, slowly opening his eyes and beginning to fully wake up.

"Good morning, Nakajima," says the voice on the other end of the call.

It's Akutagawa, which is rather strange as he never calls Atsushi.

"Akutagawa? Hey, you used my actual name!" Atsushi points out happily, sitting up, "Why are you calling?"

"Point it out and I'll continue to call you mantiger for the rest of your life," Akutagawa replied, taking a moment to cough away from the phone, "It is common courtesy to call and send birthday wishes on someone's birthday, is it not?"

Atsushi paused for a moment, "Birthday…?" He says, bringing his phone away from his ear to look at the date, "Oh, I guess it is my birthday, huh… but still, you hate me. Why would you do that?"

"It's complicated."

Atsushi rolls his eyes, "Sure. I'll get the answer out of you later. Thank you for the birthday wishes, though, Akutagawa."

There's mumbling in the other end of the phone as Atsushi gets out of bed, opening the closet door and stepping out. Kyouka had apparently already gotten dressed and left for work…

"Are you seriously embarrassed that I thanked you?"

"No! Why would I be embarrassed by that?"

Atsushi laughs, "Whatever you say, I'll talk to you later."

*Later? When I try and kill you again?"

"Probably. Bye, Akutagawa!"

Akutagawa stutters on the other end, to which Atsushi laughs a bit and hangs up, then continuing to get ready.

Atsushi gets off the train to the agency, walking in like everyday, only to see about half the agency in the room.

Dazai has himself draped across maybe three desks, lounging about carelessly as Kenji has Ranpo on his shoulders, Ranpo putting up decorations and banners with Yosano directing him where to put what.

Kyouka, Kunikida, Junichiro, and Fukuzawa are nowhere to be found.

It takes a few minutes for Atsushi to realize what the banner Ranpo and Kenji are putting up actually says, and another minute for Yosano to realize he’s here.

“Atsushi, hey!” She says, running over to him and giving him a hug, “Glad you’re finally here, happy birthday!”

Atsushi blushes for a moment, then smiling, “Ah, thank you Dr. Y-”

“Atsushi!” Dazai calls, sitting up from his spot over three desks, “Didn’t even realize you were here, how are you?”

Yosano releases him from the hug, and Atsushi turns towards Dazai, “I’m good, just, where is every-”

Within that moment, Kyouka bursts through the door with a kazoo, blowing through it half mindedly with a smile.

“Happy birthday,” she says.

Atsushi can’t help but smile back, “Thank you.”

“Food is ready in the coffee shop, courtesy of Kunikida-san and Tanazaki. Just about everyone else is already there.”

Dazai throws his legs over the desks and gets down, “Kunikida is an excellent cook, I assure you, Atsushi,” he says, throwing an arm around Atsushi’s shoulder.

Kenji sets Ranpo down, to which Ranpo sighs and sets the basket of decorations on the ground, “Finally, I’m starving!”

“Ooh, food!” Kenji exclaims, following closely behind Ranpo as they head downstairs.

Yosano ruffles Atsushi’s hair with a smile, “Kyouka-chan told me you had never celebrated your birthday before, we decided to change that.”

“Lesson twenty of being with the Armed Detective Agency, never underestimate Yosano’s ability to mother,” Dazai hummed along.

Yosano glared at Dazai, “Lesson twenty-one, I’ll kill you.”

Dazai laughs nervously.

Kyouka whistles from her place in the doorway, “Are you guys coming or not?”

“Coming!” Dazai replied eagerly, practically dragging Atsushi away as Yosano follows.

If the Agency was over the top in decorations, the coffee shop was even worse.

There were streamers and balloons everywhere, some of them had pictures of cats and bunnies drawn on them, which Atsushi could assume was Kyouka’s doing.

Tanizaki was slumped over the bar of the coffee shop while Kunikida was yelling at him, hitting him with a wooden spoon until eventually Dazai dragged Kunikida away from poor Junichiro.

Kyouka had disappeared back into the kitchen, while Yosano sat on the table, having a conversation with Fukuzawa.

Fukuzawa had dressed much more casually than usual, he wore a pair of jeans with a white tee shirt over a green long sleeve. The white shirt had a picture of Atsushi printed on it, with the words “this is my son, I love him,” printed on it in comic sans.

Given what Atsushi has seen on Fukuzawa’s other casual tee shirts, this was honestly the best outcome. He had a habit of wearing various tee shirts with the most random things on it, and owned a myriad of tee shirts condemning pedophiles.

Kunikida eventually sat down at a booth with Dazai, and Atsushi joined them in that same booth.

The booth behind them housed a very tired Junichiro, Ranpo, Poe, and Kenji. Ranpo and Kenji were having a nice conversation, something about cows, while it appears Tanizaki had fallen asleep on a very uncomfortable Poe.

Atsushi couldn’t help but smile.

Eventually, Kyouka and Lucy began to bring out bowls of chazuke, giving them out to everyone before Kyouka took a seat beside Atsushi, and Lucy sat beside Yosano and Fukuzawa.

“Everyone in the agency was well aware it was your favorite dish,” Kunikida explained, watching Atsushi stare at the bowl as if he had just met god, “Kyouka-chan insisted I try to make it.”

“He taught me how to make it too,” Kyouka added on, “Thank you, Kunikida-san.”

A slight smile appeared on Kunikida’s face before Dazai elbowed him in the ribs.

“And you say you don’t even like Kyouka-chan,” Dazai teased.

“Well, I don’t!” Kunikida insisted, elbowing Dazai back as Kyouka laughed.

The agency ate happily, at some point Poe attempted to get Tanizaki off of him and accidentally woke him, resulting in Poe deciding to continuously apologize and occasionally sob about it for the next hour and a half. Yosano threw one of her heels at Dazai after he said something about Yosano being over the top, to which Dazai swiftly dodged, and instead the heel hit Kenji in the back of the head. Kenji remained unphased, however.

By the time everyone was finished with the meal, Tanizaki removed himself from his booth and went back into the kitchen, returning with a two tiered chocolate cake he had baked himself, Lucy and Fukuzawa helping him hand out the pieces.

Fukuzawa ruffled Atsushi’s hair when he passed by him, humming something about Atsushi being cute over him shocked at the fact that Junichiro actually made such a cake.

With that, gifts were slowly handed out. Kyouka had gifted him a white tiger plushie, it was one of the first things she had bought with her own money, so she was incredibly proud of it.

Junichiro, on the other hand, gave him a set of hair clips so he could properly pin back his bangs without borrowing some from him.

Yosano gave him a set of new clothes, a sweater with a cat on it with a set of shorts and knee high socks. She assured him that all of it would fit perfectly, as she had already had his measurements, somehow. Fukuzawa had gifted him a couple different picture frames with photos of Atsushi with Kyouka, Dazai, or some even with Akutagawa. It was a very cute gift, Atsushi had hugged Fukuzawa right after receiving it.

Ranpo and Poe gave Atsushi a simple basic of snacks and such, mostly Ranpo’s doing, though Poe slipped in a couple different recipes and such into the basket as well. Lucy admitted the moment she gave Atsushi a gift that she had never really given or bought gifts before, so she wasn’t entirely sure what to do, though she gave him a couple boxes of bandages and a hand made cat plushie.

More and more gifts went by, and eventually it came Dazai’s turn, to which he handed Atsushi a simple box with a purple ribbon tied around it. Atsushi rose an eyebrow as he began to untie the ribbon and open the box.

Instead was a cropped purple jacket with cuffed sleeves that ended at the elbows, the sleeves could be unbuttoned and rolled down as well. There was a zipper, and pockets on the chest, and under the folded jacket were a couple of different iron on patches.

“So, it’s sort of a tradition from where I came from to give your pupil some sort of item of clothing, usually a clothing item of your own. However, I’m well aware that we are very different in fashion tastes, so I decided to go off script a little bit,” Dazai explained.

Fukuzawa looked at Dazai with a knowing smile as Atsushi slowly began to tear up, quickly rubbing the tears away as he slipped on the jacket, rolling down the sleeves before looking at Dazai with a teary-eyed smile.

“Thank you so much, this is all too much, you guys are too kind…”

“It’s nothing at all, Nakajima,” Fukuzawa replies, “The agency is like a family, we intend to treat you like such.”

With that, the door to the coffee shop opens, and reveals a young woman with her hands up, a bag resting on her elbow. She has medium length black hair, wearing a flowy black, long sleeve dress and a white trench coat over it.

“Don’t shoot the messenger!” She calls calmly with a smile, slowly putting her hands down and making her way over to Atsushi, handing him the gift bag.

Atsushi takes the bag, staring curiously at the woman before Dazai speaks up.

“Ah, Gin, it’s good to see you,” he says with a smile, “Is your brother too embarrassed to come in himself?”

The woman, Gin, nodded, “As you know, Ryunosuke is a coward outside of work.”

“Ryunosuke?” Atsushi asked.

“Akutagawa,” Kyouka replied, softly, “Were you not aware he had a sister?”

“Really? That’s a shame,” Gin replied a frown, “We’ve even met before, many times!”

Atsushi can’t help but look at her in confusion, scanning his memory for some sort of memory of this woman before it hits him.

“Oh. I’m so sorry!” He calls out, to which Gin just gives a smile, followed by holding two fingers up in a cute manner by the doorway.

“No bombs or anything, I promise!” She replied, then leaving the coffee shop and closing the door behind her.

“I feel stupid for not recognizing her,” Atsushi says with a nervous laugh.

“No need to,” Dazai reassures, “It’s her whole thing, she’s just teasing you.”

Atsushi sighs and shrugs, beginning to go through the bag.

The first thing in there is a yellow sticky note with messy, yet cute handwriting.

It reads, “From Ryunosuke Akutagawa, who’s too much of a little bitch baby to give this to you, Jinko-san! Signed, Gin.”

There’s a little heart at the end of the message, and Atsushi stifles a laugh.

Inside the bag is a soft, handmade pastel purple sweater, “Jinko” is neatly stitching over a white patch of fabric towards the top of the sweater. Below it is another sticky note, this time in purple and with much nicer, more elegant handwriting.

It reads, “Happy birthday. You’re foolish and I hate you. Please call more. -Akutagawa.”

Atsushi smiles happily, and Kyouka laughs.

“That’s cute,” she says.

Atsushi nods, “He’s kinda funny. Really bad with people.”

By the end of the day, Kyouka helps Atsushi bring everything home to their shared dorm, and Kyouka falls asleep almost instantly. Atsushi doesn’t keep her up much longer, but instead decides to sit in the kitchen chair, going through his phone when he gets a mysterious text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER, 9:58 PM

pissyryunosuke.png

The image is Akutagawa sitting in a car with his arms crossed over his chest, pouting. He has a yellow sticky note on his face that says “stupid fucker” in Gin’s hand writing, and a hand, presumably Gin’s, pointing at him.

ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, 9:59 PM

hdbchbgciasxh thank you so much for this image. ill frame it.

UNKNOWN NUMBER, 10:00 PM

g IN I HATE Y OU

UNKNOWN NUMBER, 10:00 PM

you’re welcome.

Atsushi smiles, standing up from his place in the kitchen and deciding to go to bed.

As he lays in bed in the closet, he looks at his phone one last time, before drifting to sleep.

I did it, I’ve managed to live to turn nineteen, he thought.

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