#Constance's writing
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*drops this and runs away*
#IM SO SORRY I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABT THIS FOR LIKE 2 YEARS#constance's writing#tcd#the clockmaker's daughter#idr what my tags were for this so. have fun#constance's tcd project#<- i think that was one#yayyyy i have something on my ao3 for this year. in July.
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some golden guards + caleb
i wanted to take a break and do some character design of a few golden guards based off of some of the ones seen briefly in canon. i also drew hunter and caleb as references for faces and stuff. i tried to make them as similar as possible, but also looking very individual to one another. since belos claimed that hunter looks the most like caleb, i tried to stay true to that while keeping the other three looking similar but not quite as identical. anyways i love them <3 they’re like the most mentally ill family ever to me
these weren’t supposed to be real ocs or anything but then i ended up giving them names and backstories and so i wrote a little about them aaaand now im obsessed. i will try to make a full body ref for them, especially alistair and/or constance, if i have time
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i apologize for my godawful handwriting 💔
#the owl house#the owl house fanart#the owl house oc#hunter toh#toh hunter#hunter noceda#hunter deamonne#caleb wittebane#the golden guard#grimwalker#digital art#digital illustration#character design#oleafia art#sorry if the descriptions don’t make sense i was trying to write as much as i could but i ran out of room lmao#if i make the full body refs i can make a more in depth post about each of their lives#i’m also so happy with how i drew hunter in this#he’s just a little guy :(((#also i’m pretty sure it’s canon grimwalkers can be created at any age#idk how this is controlled but i’m assuming hunter was created as a baby or toddler and raised by bells as we know#i think he was def the youngest gg and probably the youngest grimwalker#constance was like 23 or something when she was ‘born’ and then died at like 36#victor was similar but lived til 40#ali was ‘born’ at 17 or 18 idk#and died at 25#i didn’t have room to write this but i think for ali belos pulled the ‘ur parents were killed by wild witches and stole ur memories’ trick#and was like ‘omg i’m so generous for giving ur worthless ass a job since ur a homeless teen with no magic’#and ali was like ok so that makes no fucking sense and decided to just fuck around with belos for whatever short life he had#alistair’s personality and parts of his backstory were inspired by a fanfic i read recently by elliptical on ao3#their works r SO GOOD u need to check them out
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when the sheep is sugar
#ride the cyclone#rtc#legoland#penny lamb#constance blackwood#mischa bachinski#ocean o'connell rosenberg#sugarsheep#if this doesnt show up in the tags again ill just take a deep breath and wait 2 days cause i’m not on my computer rn#theyre constantly rotating in my brain please talk to me about sugarsheep . i have too many headcanons#and scenarios i never have the time to write …#not really bi-shop#comics i made
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has anyone even googled uranium city in the rtc fandom?? it actually is kind of beautiful?
like the town looks completely barren and devoid of anything to do but like if you walk a little bit u just get so many trees. do u think the students ever went out to the little lake out there and sit there to escape their lives for a bit?
#ride the cyclone#rtc musical#rtc#ocean rosenberg#noel gruber#misha bachynskyi#mischa bachinski#ricky potts#constance blackwood#penny lamb#not posting this because i have a related fic coming soon. nooo. not at all.#i love writing<3
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For those of you that can read german: I attended the world's largest gaming convention and wrote a bunch of articles about it that got professionally published!
Portrait of SvenjaDev, a blind streamer and developer
Coverage of an award for accessibility in gaming
A review of the indie game "Constance"
An article on "Slay The Princess" and it's expansion
#original post#kade writes original stuff#gamescom#accessibility#disability#constance#slay the princess#deutsch#german
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Back at it again with the next round of teen fem stan. This one got away from me yall so settle in bc we’re at over 6k. Slight warning for Caryn and Filbrick’s A+ parenting, but its all mostly just implied
“Sweet Moses, Sixer, was that your spine?” Stan’s attention has barely been clinging to her home ec project—because honestly, she has no intentions of being a pretty little housewife and it’s not like Ford is going to care about table settings when they’re finally off having their adventures on the high seas—but she thinks even if she had been engrossed, the sound of Ford’s spine cracking as he stretched would have jolted her with the same intensity as a gunshot next to her ear.
Ford huffs a bit of a laugh. “I suppose I’ve been working for a while now,” he says, returning to his slumped posture over his desk.
Stan frowns and scoots off her bunk. She stands over him with her hands on her hips. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s always worth a shot. “So, what, you just immediately slump back down,” she asks. “Get up and take a break. You’re gonna develop scoliosis.”
“Poor posture is not the cause of scoliosis,” Ford says. “And I’m busy.”
“You’d say that even if someone handed you a multiplication table,” Stan says. She still has to think about it, but Ford has been able to spout all those things off without a hitch since they were about five.
Ford rolls his eyes. “Those are for babies,” he says. “This is actual work.” Stan looks at the paper and can’t make a lick of sense about it, but she does recognize the notebook as one of his pet projects. Something about motion and the senior science fair next year.
“Actual work that’s gonna give you a crooked spine,” Stan says.
“Again, not how that works,” Ford says. He shifts his shoulders, and something cracks again. Stan is already making a face at him when he looks up at her with a frown. “That was simply ill timed.”
“Uh huh,” Stan says.
Their bedroom door, which has been slightly cracked, is suddenly thrown open, and Stan both whirls to face the threat and steps away from Ford. The immediate spike of danger warning danger drops at the sight of their mother standing in the door frame, her purse slung over her shoulder.
“Kids, we’re about to head out,” she says. Her sister is having one of her biannual crisis that requires Caryn to drive upstate to manage. Their father doesn’t trust her to go that far in the car alone, so he’s dragged along with her. Stan has been looking forward to this. Three days without their parents in the house. Three days where she can breathe freely.
As expected, the twins step forward for their mother to kiss on the cheeks. Ford also gets an affectionate pat, but when Caryn takes Stan’s face in her hands, there is a slight harshness. “Stanley, the fridge has plenty of food. Do not make junk for your brother. You cook him a good meal. He’s too skinny.”
“Ma,” Ford groans, but he’s ignored.
“You hear me,” Caryn says.
“Yes, Ma,” Stan intones.
Caryn’s eyes are sharp as they dart over to her things scattered on the bunk. “Stanford, bubbe, you make sure she actually does that homework. And do not let her skip school.”
“Ma, she wouldn’t,” Ford says, and everyone in the room knows that that is a lie. If it wouldn’t get her in trouble—trouble that Stan can in no way afford—she absolutely would bug it off.
“Caryn,” their father yells from the living room.
“Calm down,” she yells back. “Two minutes won’t change the traffic.” She levels them with one more look, one more silent warning about each of their expectations, and then she’s gone.
The door clicks shut behind their parents, and even with the very clear undertones of that encounter, Stan’s chest already feels lighter. It’s better when Ford reaches out and wraps his hand around hers. “You don’t have to cook for me,” he says.
Stan smiles up at him, very glad that he’s there. “What, you gonna try it,” she asks. “We’re dead if we burn the house down.”
Ford grimaces. “There was not a fire,” he says. “Not a real one.”
“Facts are facts, Stanford,” she teases. “Old lady Fitzgerald called the fire department.”
Ford blushes as he scoffs. It’s very cute. “That hardly counts. She’s always been an over-dramatic busybody.”
Stan laughs and squeezes his hand. “I don’t actually mind it,” she says. Stan’s hackles raise every time someone yaps at her about being a sweet little housewife, but this is the one part of it she doesn’t mind. Everyone’s got to eat, after all, and there’s a lot about cooking that she honestly finds soothing, especially when she’s just doing it for her and her brother.
Stan goes out into the kitchen and takes stock of what they have. There’s a slab of chuck that isn’t too big, so she pulls that out along with potatoes and carrots. She’s done this plenty of times, so it’s hardly fifteen minutes later that everything is in the oven. Stan heads back into their room. “If you’re good with a later dinner, I’ve got a roast going.”
Ford is back at the desk. “That’s perfect,” he says. “Yours always turns out very well.” If that little compliment maybe puts an extra spring in her step as she walks back to her bunk, well, so be it. Stan has always soaked up compliments from her brother.
They continue to each work in a comfortable silence. Stan is quick to abandon her homework, shifting her attention between other things. Comics, doodling on an art pad that Ford lets her borrow sometimes, filing her nails down, flipping through magazines. Every once in a while she hops up to check in on the roast. She takes stock of the other groceries and plans out the rest of their dinners.
She’ll need to do a bit of rearranging some things, maybe even make one quick trip to the store. Her mother prefers to cook large meals, things that they can’t possibly all eat in one sitting or even two. Caryn’s busiest call hours are in the evenings and nights, times when she should be wrapping up cooking, serving her family, and seeing that things get cleaned up. It’s not really feasible to do that every night, so she’s a leftovers type of person.
Stan doesn’t like that. She’d rather have to prep and cook and clean every time because that means something fresh. And yeah, so what, Ford always smiles up at her and thanks her for whatever she’s made, no matter how complicated or simple.
When she finally pulls the roast out of the oven, Stan congratulates herself. It looks perfect, and there should be just enough for their two portions tonight and a quick lunch tomorrow. She spoons everything up into bowls and puts the pot in the sink to soak and deal with later.
“Room service,” Stan calls as she breezes into their room with the bowls balanced on her palms. She has napkins between them and her hands, but the heat is already seeping through quickly, so she deposits Ford’s down on the desk with maybe a bit too loud of thump.
Ford blinks owlishly at the bowl and then her as she settles onto the stool by the desk. “Already,” he asks, pulling back his sleeve to take a look at his watch.
“It’s been three hours, Poindexter,” Stan says, jabbing her fork in his direction. “Three hours closer to your scoliosis onset.”
Ford rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother correcting her this time. He hooks a finger onto the rim of the bowl and pulls it closer. He looks in and takes a deep breath. “This smells amazing, Stanley, thank you.”
Yeah, she preens. So what. “Oh, wait, I forgot about drinks,” Stan says, leaping back up.
Ford starts to turn. “I can go get—“
“No, I’ve got it,” Stan hollers back, already to the door. She knows that their old man has beers in the fridge, and for just a second she toys with grabbing a few just to mess with Ford, but she decides against it quickly. It feels like something Filbrick would just sense that she touched, and she in no way wants to deal with the fallout from that. Besides, nothing wrong with a nice, cold glass of milk.
“Your cow juice, sir,” Stan says as she presents the glass to Ford with a mockery of a fancy waiter’s bow.
Ford snorts in that way he does when he’s laughing but doesn’t want to. “You say the weirdest things,” he says, taking the glass. He inclines his head towards her bowl. “Did you actually get enough for yourself? Mine has a lot more.”
“Yeah, there’s a point to that,” Stan says. “Protein—“ She points at the bowl. “—meet bones.” She points at his scrawny arm. Ford levels her with a look, but Stan just grins at him. “Come on, Sixer. Can’t hurt you. Pa’s still making you take the boxing lessons, so you might as well do a little extra to reap the benefits.”
“That aside,” Ford says stuffily. “Do you have enough?”
“More than Ma would let me eat,” Stan says. “But, hey, I’m already reaping the benefits.” She lifts her arms up and flexes, knowing exactly the reaction she’s going to get.
Ford’s eyes lock onto her biceps sharply. They both take the boxing lessons, but Stan is so much more serious about it. There are multiple reasons, but really, she does love it. She loves the anticipation, sizing up her opponents. She loves the sweating and buzz of adrenaline, the feeling of her fists landing a solid punch, even a solid punch landing on her. She loves that it’s a place she can actually focus, that she’s good at it, that all of her other inadequacies can melt away when she steps into the ring, that at least in there it doesn’t matter that she’s too loud, too brash, too unladylike.
She really likes that it makes her body look a certain way and that Ford likes it. He’s never said anything, but Stan catches him staring at her arms and shoulders a lot with a hungry look in his eyes. Everyone else makes snide comments, but Ford likes how she looks. And if Ford likes it, well, that’s all that Stan needs.
Stan flexes once more and wags her eyebrows. Ford’s cheeks go pink and he clears his throat, sliding his hands around his bowl tightly. Stan laughs and lowers her arms to take her bowl too. “Ok,” she says, done teasing. “Bone appetite.”
“Sweet Moses,” Ford mutters, clearly done with her. Stan laughs and stabs a good chunk of meat with her fork.
Eating dinner just the two of them is nice. The house being empty besides them is nice. They can just sit there and talk and goof around and not have to worry about either of their parents walking into the room and bringing with them waves of tension. They can move through the house when they’re done, Stan going to the kitchen to clean and Ford making the rounds downstairs to ensure everything is locked up, without tiptoeing and keeping their eyes down.
One day it’s going to always be like this. Just the two of them. Free and happy. The smell of salty sea air all around them and the floor rocking under them with the the pull of the waves.
When Stan walks back into their room, Ford is standing before his desk, looking ready to get right back into his work. But he’s stretching first, using one hand to lock onto the opposite wrist behind his back and arching. There’s a notable wince as something cracks.
“OK, that’s enough,” Stan says.
Ford drops his hands. “Stanley—“
She throws up a finger, jabbing it in the direction of his chest. “Don’t you Stanley me,” she says. “You’ve been hunched over all that nerd junk for hours. Call it quits for the night.”
“I really only have just a bit more,” Ford tries, inching his way back to his seat. Stan tries to intercept him, but he drops down into it too quickly and then grins up at her. He knows as well as she does that yes, she can definitely take him in a wrestling match, but if he decides to go boneless—which based on that grin, Stan knows is his play—she isn’t going to have much luck moving him. He’s a scrawny nerd, but he’s still decently heavy and is still growing. She teases him about being skin and bones, but Stan can tell. Ford is going to be broad like their dad and Shermie when he’s done growing.
“You’re ridiculous,” she chides over him, and Ford just laughs.
“You can’t have the monopoly,” he says. He picks up his pencil and starts back at his notebook. Then he startles a bit when Stan drops her hands over his shoulders. They really are bigger than she gives him credit for. He has a shirt on, but she knows there’s some muscle definition there too. She moves one hand, just enough that she can drag her thumb over the skin right above his collar. “Stanley.”
“How about a deal,” she asks. “You can keep being a nerd, but I’m gonna give you a back rub. Really, it’s best of both worlds for you.”
“It’s distracting,” Ford says. “If you’d just let me finish working—“
Stan digs her fingers into Ford’s neck to cut him off. It works. He lets out this sound, something close to a moan, and it makes Stan’s stomach swoop. But she also winces at the tightness of the muscles. “Cripes, Poindexter,” she says, kneading lightly over a knot in his neck, her other hand squeezing his traps. “I don’t care what you say about scoliosis. This shit can’t be good for you.”
Ford hangs his head, breathing a little bit harder through his nose as she continues to move her hands. “Possibly,” he says. “But you don’t have to do this.”
Stan scratches lightly at the hair on the back of his neck. “Does it feel nice,” she asks.
“Yes,” he says, almost like he doesn’t want to admit it.
Stan leans down, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “You always help me when I’m aching,” she says. “Let me help you for once.”
Ford reaches back and grabs one of her hands. He turns his head and kisses her palm. “You say that like you’ve never helped me before.”
“You just fight me more on it now,” Stan says, careful to keep any hurt from her voice. That’s not the point of this, even if it does eat at her every time that Ford insists he can take care of himself, that he doesn’t need his little sister to swoop in and shield him from anything.
Ford doesn’t say anything to that, but he also doesn’t stop her when she brings her hand back to his shoulders and kneads her thumbs into the tension knotting just under the skin. Stan moves her hands slowly over him, working carefully with the knots. She’s had a few nasty ones in her day. She knows how they can hurt when they’re getting worked out. Ford hisses at the pressure, and she whispers, “Sorry. I know.”
“It’s ok,” Ford says.
“Do you want me to leave it,” she asks. He shakes his head. Stan kisses the back of his head again and applies more pressure. Ford tenses, grunting a little until suddenly he relaxes. “Better,” Stan asks, and he nods. “Good.”
Stan moves her hands up and down Ford’s back, dipping under the collar of his shirt when she’s up near his neck. His skin is warm, and when she’s touching him like that, his breath picks up more. Stan’s does too. Her chest feels tight, in a very good and specific way. It feels like a risk, like something very, very huge that could go very, very bad, but Stan tries. “It—“ She clears her throat. Her voice is usually a little too deep and raspy, but that was something else. “It might be better without this.”
She tugs just a bit at the sleeve of Ford’s shirt, and for a moment, they both are very still. Then, Ford nods, and Stan slides her hands down his sides, down to where his shirt is tucked into his pants. She digs her fingers into the material and pulls it out, pulls it up. Ford lifts his arms. As it goes over his head, it knocks his glasses aside and ruffles his hair. Stan takes a moment to right them first before she returns her hands to his body.
It’s immediately different. If this was innocent at first—and Stan doesn’t really know that it was—it doesn’t feel that way now. Ford’s skin isn’t just warm, it’s hot and softer than it should be even with the hair that is definitely growing in thicker and thicker. Stan drags her hands over his back, along the sides of his spine, tracing the muscles under his skin. She watches—feels—as his back expands with every deep breath.
Stan definitely can’t call it innocent anymore when she curls her hands over his shoulders, over towards his chest. Ford sits back, leaning against her as she trails her fingers over his pecs, stopping just short of his stomach. She moves her hands back up, scratching her nails lightly over his skin, through his chest hair. Stan’s hands go back up his neck, into his hair, then back down again.
Ford is breathing hard, and so is she because from her vantage point she can see very clearly that the crotch of his pants is much, much tighter than it should be. Ford is hard. All from just her hands. Just on his torso.
“I could help with that too,” Stan whispers, and Ford is very nearly trembling under her. Of course, she’s no better staring down at the way his pants are straining against his erection.
“You don’t have to,” Ford says, his head pillowed against her chest.
“What if I want to,” she asks.
Ford growls. He actually growls, and it sends a jolt down Stan’s spine. His hands go for his belt, and Stan hurries around the chair, crouching down in front of him, between his splayed legs. She reaches up to help him tug everything out of the way. When his hard dick springs free, for a moment, they both just stare at it.
Stan has never seen an erect cock before. Sure, she’s seen some things. She’s shared a room with her brother for their entire lives, and yeah, lately, they’ve been getting into things with each other, but not like this. All of their humping has been with clothes on. Yeah, Ford has touched her, slipped his hands into her panties, but they’ve always stayed on. And before today, she hasn’t been brave enough to return the favor.
Looking at him now, hard and pink and leaking at the top, what in the hell has she been waiting for?
“Stan,” Ford starts to say and then hisses when Stan reaches out and wraps her fingers around him. It’s softer than Stan expected, heavier. And hot. Ford runs hot in general, but his cock is on fire. Stan strokes lightly, watching as the bead of pre-cum grows until it’s heavy enough for gravity to pull it down, trailing along the underside of Ford’s cock head.
Stan keeps her grip loose. Guys are sensitive down there, right? She doesn’t want to squeeze him too tight and hurt him. Unless, maybe it’s too loose? “Is this ok,” she asks, surprised by her own breathlessness.
“Yeah,” Ford pants, his fists clenched hard enough that his knuckles are a stark white.
“Should I—“ Stan doesn’t really know what to do here, and she feels a bit ridiculous. Ford always seems to know when he touches her. He just does it, and it lights up every single nerve in her body in the best of ways.
“Here,” he offers, wrapping his hand around hers. He guides her, adjusting her grip a little tighter, moving just a little faster. “There—that’s—God, Stanley.”
Stan clings to the loose material of Ford’s pants bunched up over his thigh. She doesn’t know what to stare at. The way Ford’s eyes are locked onto her, his lids heavy but gaze still sharply focused. The pink flush spreading over his cheeks. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. The way his chest heaves with the force of his breathing, his stomach clenching. Or his cock. The color, the way the skin moves up over the head. The vein on the underside. The way her fingers can’t quite fully wrap around it. Stan has nothing to compare it to but does Ford have a big dick?
The tip of Ford’s cock leaks the longer she strokes him, and it’s hypnotic, fully entrancing. It makes Stan’s mouth water even as her throat feels dry. She doesn’t really think. She just leans forward, her tongue out to taste it.
“Fuck,” Ford shouts. His hands grab at her, one clinging to her arm, the other gripping her hair.
For a moment, they are both still. Ford stares down at her with wild eyes, his pupils blown so wide his eyes are almost entirely black. And Stan, well, she’s had her hair pulled before in a way that has been very, very bad, but this—Ford staring down at her like this, his hand in her hair like this—
Stan closes her lips over Ford’s cock, and the noise he makes—a groan from deep in his chest—shakes Stan down to her core. Her stomach twists, molten hot arousal pooling between her legs. She lowers her head, taking more of him into her mouth, and Ford gasps. “Stanley, oh fuck!”
Stan bobs her head, dragging her lips up and down the shaft of Ford’s cock, her tongue pressed flat to the underside. Ford’s hand slides through her hair, over her cheeks, brushing against where her lips stretch around him. “Stanley, God, this is—you feel so good.” She tries to take more of him, and Ford’s hips buck up. Stan chokes a bit, and quickly, Ford stills himself. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “Sorry, I—“
But Stan does it again because even though he was nearly to her throat, that felt good. That felt really good. Ford’s hands are both in her hair now, clinging, not too tight, just the right amount. “Stan, Stanley, I’m—I’m gonna—“
Stan moans, her entire body on fire. Yes, she wants that desperately. She wants him to come in her mouth. She wants to make Ford feel good, wants to feel him come, wants to taste it.
Stan hollows her cheeks, actually sucking hard, and Ford comes with a shout. Stan watches his face, absolutely awed at how beautiful he looks, cheeks flushed a deep red, sweat beading on his brow, eyes finally slipping closed in pleasure. She keeps her lips closed around him, using her hand to gently stroke him through it as spurts of his semen coat the inside of her mouth. Stan wouldn’t exactly call it a good taste, but it’s Ford, and she made him feel like that.
Ford collapses back into the chair, his chest heaving as if he’s just sprinted a mile. Slowly, Stan pulls herself off him, swallowing as she goes. Ford stares down at her like she’s just done something amazing. Maybe she has.
She wonders if she should stand up, move away, but Stan just stays seated there between Ford’s legs. She drops her head down to rest on his thigh, and they just stare at each other, both trying to catch their breaths.
Stan just sucked Ford’s cock.
She should maybe be freaking out about that a little. A lot. Because he’s her twin brother. And this—this is well outside of the boundaries of what happens when she’s on her period. Hell, it’s well outside of the light groping and stolen kisses that have become increasingly frequent over the past few months. She should be freaking out a whole lot about this.
But.
One of Ford’s hands is slowly dragging through her hair, almost petting her. His other is at her cheek, thumb tracing light circles. And he’s looking down at her like she’s something precious. He’s looking at her like she’s something that could be adored.
It should be wrong. Anyone else would say that this is wrong, but Stan feels so perfectly right. This is where she’s meant to be. This is what she’s meant to be doing. The entire reason she exists is to love Ford. If Ford knows that she loves him, then she has done everything she needs to do in life. Nothing else matters.
Stan smiles at him, and Ford smiles back. Everything is all right. Everything is perfect. They are supposed to be like this. They were made to be like this.
“Are you ok,” Ford asks, and he sounds wrecked. The heat in Stan’s stomach flares again. She did that. She made him sound like that, and this was only the first time. God, what could she do with some practice? The thought makes her incredibly aware of how much slickness has pooled between her legs, and Ford hasn’t even touched her.
Stan nods. She is more than ok. She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, and she can still taste Ford there. His eyes zero in on it, his thumb trailing along after her tongue. Her hand, the one that had been locked in a death grip on his pants, slides up his leg. She wants to touch his skin again, feel that warmth against her.
“You’re hard again,” Stan says lowly, pointing out the very increasingly obvious.
“Well,” Ford says, his hand still stroking through her hair, “I’m sixteen, and a very pretty girl is lying with her face in very close proximity to my crotch.”
It’s dumb that that’s the thing that makes her blush, not when her brother came down her throat, but that’s just kind of how it works with her feelings about Ford.
Ford touches where the blush is staining her cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything else. Stanley, that was—that was amazing.”
She doesn’t have to. He always says that, always gives her the out. But she wants to.
Stan makes a decision. She pulls off her shirt and bra. Then, as she stands up, she pushes down her shorts and panties. Ford stares up at her with wide eyes, his pupils blown. “God,” he breathes, and he reaches for her. His hand slides between her legs, as he’s done before, but this time she’s naked, bare before him, and he can see it. “God, Stanley, you’re so wet. Just from blowing me?”
“Yeah,” she pants, grabbing onto his shoulders. “It was good, Sixer. It was so—I want more.”
Two fingers push inside her, and Stan’s legs are starting to shake. Ford’s thumb slowly circles over her clit. “You want to suck me off again?”
Stan shakes her head. “No—I mean, yes, yeah, I do want to, but—“ She moves, and Ford’s hand leaves her as she climbs onto his lap. He stares up at her with wide eyes as she positions herself over his cock. “This, Ford,” Stan says, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I want you inside me.”
Ford’s big hands splay wide over her hips, and he pushes just so slightly. Permission. Stan slowly sinks down. They both hiss when the tip of his cock presses against her pussy. By the time the head is inside, they’re both panting, eyes locked onto each other. She moves almost torturously slow, overwhelmed by the sensation of him filling her up. When she makes it that last little bit, when she is seated firmly in his lap, some kind of guttural noise claws its way out of her throat.
“Stanley,” Ford gasps, hands all over her, kissing her. “Stanley, are you—God—are you ok? Are you hurt?”
“No,” Stan says, although it’s difficult to talk when it feels like the air has been punched from her lungs. “No, I—Ford, it’s so deep.”
Ford cups her face. “You feel so good, Stanley, God. So tight. You’re ok?”
“I’m ok,” she answers. “I’m—oh my God, Sixer, please—“
He kisses her again, harder this time. Hungry. “Bounce,” he growls against her lips, one hand sliding down to squeeze at her breast, the other settling back on her hip. “Bounce for me.”
Stan holds onto Ford’s shoulders for leverage as she raises a bit up on her knees and then drops. She moans as it punches the air from her lungs all over again, and Ford curses. “Again. Do it again. Faster.”
Stan does as she’s told. She bounces herself on Ford’s dick, and it feels like it’s rearranging her guts in the best way. When her thighs start to burn, she stays seated, rocking instead, and that feels just as amazing. Ford’s mouth is on her jaw, her neck, closing over her nipples, and all she can do is cling to him, hands tight in his hair. They’re both making noises that sound crazy, but Stan couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.
She can feel her orgasm starting to crest, everything in her clenching up. “Ford, Ford, I’m close—I’m—“
Ford’s hands loop under her thighs, and he stands up so fast that it makes Stan dizzy. She clings to him, and suddenly in another swoop of motion, her back hits the hard surface of his desk. Ford kisses her, something that manages to be bruisingly passionate and intimately delicate. “Stanley,” he says against her lips.
“I love you.” It bursts out of her. She loves him. Of course she loves him. He’s her twin brother. He’s the center of her world and has been for their entire lives—her mother has complained to plenty of people that Stan was a loud and fussy baby, that no toy or food or rocking or anything but Stanford could ever settle her cries—but this kind of love. A different kind. They aren’t supposed to feel this, but she does, and it’s completely consuming.
Ford’s forehead drops over hers, and he intertwines their fingers—six surrounding five—and for a moment they just lie like that, staring at each other and connected in so many ways.
“I love you too, Stanley,” Ford says, and he starts to roll his hips. Stan groans, her legs circling his waist. “I love you so much, my sweet girl.” Every word is punctuated by a thrust that gets harder and sharper than the last, and Stan’s eyes roll back. “You’re mine. You’re mine. Stanley, tell me.”
“I am,” she moans, and it’s so true. “Yours. Only yours. I don’t—I never want anyone else. Just you.”
Ford takes his hands from hers, and Stan has no time to complain because he grabs her hips and starts to pound into her like their lives depend on it. In seconds, she’s screaming through an orgasm, and Ford just keeps going in a brutal pace, thrusting deep inside her, filling her up so much that Stan can feel it in her throat. She clings to the edge of the desk that’s shaking under their weight.
“I’m close, sweetheart,” Ford says, his fingers digging deep enough into her hips to bruise. God, she hopes she bruises. “God, I’m—“
Stan squeezes her legs tighter around Ford, pulling him closer, trying to pull him completely inside. “Stay,” Stan begs. “Stay, please.”
Whatever control Ford was clinging to before is lost. His hips sputter out of his set rhythm, thrusting himself as deep into Stan as he can with a wild abandon. “Stanley, Stanley,” he breathes hot across Stan’s neck as he spills inside her, hot and wet. His lips find Stan’s, and Stan tightens her insides, giving Ford everything she can. She swallows down the moans Ford lets out as he thrusts shallowly through the orgasm. Then he collapses on top of her.
It’s a very long moment that they just lie there, panting harshly, sweaty skin sticking together. Stan’s hands are trembling as she drags them through Ford’s hair.
“Stanley,” Ford finally breaks the silence, his voice raspy. “Are you ok?”
“I don’t think I have bones anymore,” she says. “I mean, except the one.”
Ford’s laugh is little more than a shaky huff. “Uncouth,” he says, pressing a kiss over the still rapidly beating pulse point in her neck. He pushes himself up onto his forearms, looking down at her. His glasses are a bit foggy, and his hair is curling more than usual across his forehead. “I’m serious. Are you ok? You aren’t—I didn’t hurt you?”
Stan wipes the sweat from his face. “You couldn’t,” she says. Not strictly true. Ford has the power to hurt her more than anyone else ever could, but he’s her brother and he loves her. He never would.
Ford nods. “Good. Good. Ok. I’m—I’m going to—get out of you now.” Stan snorts at the awkwardness, and Ford laughs too. “Don’t say it,” Ford warns, and Stan just grins.
Ford rubs his palms over her thighs, and she remembers that she’s still clinging to him. She unlocks her ankles and slides her legs back down. Ford pulls himself from her, and Stan groans. “Stanley,” Ford asks in alarm.
“It’s ok,” she says. “It’s ok. Just—you really went to town, Poindexter.”
His brows furrow. “You said I didn’t hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” Stan says, pushing herself up on still shaking arms to pull him to her. They wrap their arms around each other, Ford’s hands splayed wide over her back, and one of hers carding through his hair again. “I promise you didn’t. I thought it was supposed to. You know, people say that it does the first time. But it didn’t. I’m ok. Maybe gonna be a little sore, but I’m ok.”
“Promise,” he asks. “You’ll tell me if I ever—“
“Promise, Sixer,” she says.
Ford kisses her neck, then both her cheeks, then a sweet press of his lips to hers. He steps back from between her legs, hands finding hers and ready to help her down off the desk and then he freezes. Stan follows the line of his gaze, and she’s treated to the same sight. His cum dripping out of her into a puddle on the desk.
“Holy shit,” she says, opening her legs just a little wider to get a better look.
Ford is back immediately, his fingers coming to her pussy and sliding through the mess. Stan clings to him, moaning again at the sensation. She’s just short of being too overstimulated for this, but Ford’s touches are gentle. “This is—Sweet Moses, Stanley,” he says lowly. Two fingers slide into her, curling, and the noises it makes. Stan whimpers.
“God, I want to do this to you again. Want to do this to you every day,” he says. She wants that too. She wants him to fuck her and never stop.
“But we can’t,” Ford says, and Stan nearly sobs. What? No. That’s not something she wants to hear, especially not when he’s actively finger fucking his cum back into her pussy, his thumb pressing hard onto her clit. “We just—we have to be careful, Stanley. You can’t get pregnant.” His other hand stretches wide across her stomach. “Not yet.”
And Stan comes harder than she ever has in her life, so hard that her vision blacks out, so hard that she’s crying, so hard that she slumps completely boneless and Ford has to catch her before she falls off the desk.
“Stan! Stanley,” he frets, and Stan fumbles, desperately trying to find his face because she needs to kiss him, needs to breathe in his air, or she’ll suffocate.
They kiss for a long time, desperation slowly giving way to tiny little pecks. Ford has fallen back into the chair, taking Stan with him and settling her in his lap. They’re both trembling just a bit. They stare at each other, foreheads pressed together. Ford’s fingers caress her cheek. “Stanley,” he asks, his breath whispering over her lips. “Are you ok?”
She has never been better in her life. She has been fucked so well, so perfectly, and now she’s curled up in Ford’s arms, and he loves her. Instead of saying that, she nods and yawns.
Ford laughs lowly, and Stan snuggles into where the sound vibrates from his chest. He checks his watch and makes an alarmed sound. “It’s late. We have school tomorrow,” he says.
“Poindexter, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Stan whines.
“It’s Friday,” Ford says. “It’s not that bad.”
“Don’t pretend to be stupid,” Stan says. “There’s only room for one of us to be a dummy here.”
“Stop,” Ford says. “You are not dumb. You just need to—“ He stops short. For a brief moment, he just looks at her. Then he shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead. “You’re not dumb,” he says again, and leaves it at that. “But the fact that we have school tomorrow doesn’t change. I did say I would insure that you go.”
Stan pouts at him, but she knows it isn’t going to work. “There’s definitely better things we could be doing,” she tries.
“Oh, we will,” Ford says. “If you’re amenable to it, I plan to fuck you as often as possible while we have the house to ourselves.”
The matter-of-fact tone, the use of the word amenable, those two things should not be so hot, but it’s Ford, and it sends a jolt down Stan’s spine, and all she can do is nod and says, “Yeah, I’m down with that.”
Ford kisses her again, and they climb into the bottom bunk. They are both definitely disgusting—Stan in particular with the mess drying between her legs—but they can shower in the morning, and Stan honestly enjoys it, enjoys the evidence of what they mean to each other. Ford folds Stan up in his arms, curving their bodies to fit together under the mass of blankets. Their fingers slot together—six around five, as always—one set resting over Stan’s heart, the other her stomach.
Even as exhaustion washes over her, Stan replays Ford’s words in her mind. Not yet. It’s absolutely crazy. Crazy and possibly dangerous, but at the same time, it’s right. For them, there isn’t any other option. Ford isn’t just Stan’s past or present. He’s her future. He’s everything she’s ever known, everything she’s ever wanted, and she doesn’t need to see the rest of the world to know that that will never change. His heart is beating in her chest right alongside hers. He’s everything.
“Stanford,” Stan mumbles, so close to sleep.
“Hmm,” he hums back, nearly there himself, but she needs to let him know.
Stan presses their joined hands more firmly against her stomach. “One day,” she says.
Ford’s breath hitches, and then he pulls her impossibly closer. His lips press a tired but still searing kiss behind he ear. “One day,” he promises. Stan’s eyes close, and she falls into the best sleep of her life, one that someday soon will be the only sleep she knows.
#stancest#fem stan#teen stancest#i promise one day I’ll write dude stan but for now Constance still has me in her grip#i know i write it with her full name still Stanley but there’s a reason for that#my writing
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I like you. *hexsides your choir*
Ocean-abomination, penny- beast keeping, Ricky-illusion, Mischa-bard, Noel-potions, Constance-plant
Karnak is oracle obviously
#the owl house#ride the cyclone#constance blackwood#ocean oconnell rosenberg#Ricky potts#mischa bachinski#noel gruber#Penny lamb#ricky struggles to get his illusions right they always turn out creepy#noel will fuck you up with a potion do not mess with him#mischa makes rap spells but secretly writes love songs#Constance is super attached to her plants#Ocean is overly obsessive about how perfect abominations are#penny keeps on sneaking animals into hexsides and her home
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“What do ride the cyclone fans want and is it more wlw?”
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#ride the cyclone#sugarsheep#penny lamb#constance blackwood#rtc penny lamb#constance rtc#penny lamb rtc#constance ride the cyclone#penny ride the cyclone#sugar sheep#this is just me messing around with brushes lol#cam eats crayons#lowkey in love with constance hair#I know my target audience (5 people)#and what if I told you… I’m also writing 👁️👁️
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while im at it here's the rest of my social media rtc hcs
Ocean has facebook and uses it like an adult
She runs a facebook group for Saint Cassian’s with school updates and choir concert promotions
Mischa has most but they're mostly just messaging apps and places to promote his youtube for him
He is most active on youtube and twitter posting his raps and generally ranting
Noel uses instagram just for general browsing and snooping on other people and twitter for ranting and arguing with strangers
He used to post on instagram but got bullied out of it so now his account is private
Noel and Mischa are mutuals on twitter and always hyping each other up
Mischa is constantly posting selfies with Noel on his snapchat story and he has a ridiculously long snap streak with Talia
Ricky has EVERYTHING but primarily uses reddit and deviantart because why not
Constance has most social medias and has a decent instagram following of classmates who don't really know her and random people who know her in uranium (blackwood customers, people she met on the bus etc)
She moderates for the Saint Cassian facebook group and Blackwoods group which her mum runs
Penny only uses tumblr and pinterest and is unknowingly mutuals with ricky on both
Talia has pretty much all of them and she is equally beloved and despised cross platforms
I feel like she's in a bunch of niche communities and subreddits and will passionately defend her opinions
She goes by Talia online so people from her school can't find her profiles and is actually quite private about it outside of her close knit friend group
Mischa is constantly trying to get Ocean to let Talia join the Saint Cassian facebook group and consistently being denied
Ricky has an instagram account for his cats posting in detailed perspective of them (translated from meows to english of course) and is actually famous on pet instagram
Tammy uses instagram and facebook with a decent following on both and is always trying to get Penny to make an account for at least one of them (which she does, but only ever follows Tammy and Seven up members and refuses to post)
#very silly#not tied to how i write them just for fun#when i was writing the nischa ones i was picturing majestic rep them bc icons <3#i might have more but these are all im thinking of rn#ride the cyclone#rtc#ocean o'connell rosenberg#constance blackwood#noel gruber#ricky potts#mischa bachinski#penny lamb#tammy edwards#legoland#talia bolinska
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some rapo girlies 💖
#digital art#dtl#drawn to life#dtl:iolani#dtl:constance#i thiiink... iolanis dad was the main engineer on the gj's space elevator project. she maintains it now and keeps it running#and constance is one of those gals who struggles a little in social situations so she buries herself in books#she got frustrated with bad lit so she started writing her own and is fairly popular#i think most raposa dont wear pants unless its like ppe for things like mining or biohazard work#the gj is a little innovative in that way. this is the equivalent of wearing a cropped firemans jacket but w/o the cancer risk#something similar is going on in watersong with the long frilly dresses. most dresses dont usually go much further below the knees#but watersong residents like the length bc the dresses are fluffier with it and theyre all about that#fine and good au
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One thing with Musketeers that still makes me sad is that the s3 didn't really carry through with the friendship between Constance and Treville that it set up in the first episode.
I mean, come on. Constance throwing Treville's old jacket at him and dragging him along to mischief and knocking the Red Guard down a peg? Treville putting up a very token protest that both of them clearly know is nothing more than a formality, a part of a pattern they have to play for this?
Like, that's just. That's not just "we're acquaintances because we care about the same people (who are currently off at war and who knows what will happen to them) and work together because it's in our common interests" level thing. it's just not. it may have started like that, four years before, but it sure as fuck is friendship now
and then the show just. drops that. doesn't do anything with that in their other interactions that season
and idk i know the focus of the show is on the boys and what they get up to, but i'm sure you would have had time for at least a couple more moments of that?
speaking of dropped character dynamics, i also wish s3 had done more with Constance and Anne's friendship established in s2
#constance#captain treville#the musketeers#bbc musketeers#if i ever write that heralds of valdemar au (i won't but one can dream right) treville and constance are so gonna be friends in it#i might even have them meet before constance really meets any of the boys. bc constance and treville would both in the au#mostly stay in haven anyway while the boys are running around the country doing their thing
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randomly felt like posting a fic so. here you go
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Hi! I have a request, if you’d like to write something like it, no pressure! xD
Can I get a Jack Delroy x female reader where he kind of “saves” reader who is abused by her narcissistic mother, and they bond over their shared love of Halloween/spooky things/horror movies? Maybe with some smut?
I’m in love with him and your blog is a gift 😭
I Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be - Jack Delroy/Reader
Warnings: This one gets heavy. No use of Y/N, female reader, the reader lives a very lonely and miserable life, parental abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, reader saves herself, fingering, soft smut, multiple orgasms, happy ending.
Wordcount: 15294
Summary: You lived for her, and it was all you knew. So when you suddenly start living for him as well as yourself, she can't let you have that.
Notes: This is what happens when requests get specific lmao okay so, leading up to this one I had no idea where to go with it, but as soon as I started I just could not stop. This is my longest request so far, almost tripling my other longest, so I really hope you like how this turned out, because I really locked in this time 😊💗 I also hope you don't mind all the Leo cause I love that guy lol he's always gotta be on my readers' side no matter the fic.
All your life you’d felt like you’d been running from something, and it consumed you again when your mother came into your room to tell you to start packing, you were moving to New York within the month.
You had no choice but to do it, your few possessions all neatly placed in your single suitcase once more before fitting into the moving van, a sad addition to everything your mother owned. You were an adult, capable of living on your own and getting yourself a home to call your own, no more moving, but you knew if you were to bring it up you’d just get shot down again with no chance to try again until the next move. That was just how it’d always been, your future sealed ever since you were a child and your father had walked out, unable to deal with the woman sitting beside you any longer.
She clung to you like a lifeline, draining you of everything you were in order to keep your permanent attention, but still needing more as you grew and drifted away from her. All your life she’d been moving you around as she searched for something that would never be enough, no amount of lovers able to replace that emptiness inside of her just like you couldn’t as her only child, each new city bringing her a hope that you knew could only be more misplacement as you packed up and shipped out. That’s what was happening again as she headed East, just another mark on your map as you stared out the window and took nothing in.
You would be entering your 40s in just a few years, your entire life wasted on your mother in her quest to find what she wanted that would finally set you free, but the older you got the more you accepted that she never would, and you would never be able to leave. You’d tried once, back when you were young and more rebellious, hooked on young love and ready to run away and leave it all behind, but the moment she stood between you and the door, your suitcase in hand and a bunch of miscellaneous bills in your pocket, you knew that you’d never be able to go through with it.
You’d had your one chance, and your partner had left you behind, tired of waiting for you to grow up and live your own life.
20 years had passed since then, time leaving you a shell of a person as you just stared out the car window, the moving van in your sideview mirror as it trailed dutifully behind as it always did every few years when she’d get the urge to get up and go yet again. New York was yet another miracle town where she’d surely find what she wanted this time, a mental list of all the others scrolling in your mind as you counted them down, her desire to find love changing to desiring the stardom that so many others were getting with each new city. The latest spur of spontaneity had been brought on by one Jack Delroy, a radio man who’d gotten his own break into television not too long ago, the first half of his first season a sleeper hit as his fans transitioned from audio to video and brought a wave of others with him.
She was convinced she could do the same despite having no particular talents on her own, and that was you being kind in that regard.
When you finally reached your new temporary lodgings, as you liked to call them, because she never let you settle in long enough to call any place a home, you saw with no surprise that it was even smaller than the last. Money was getting thin again, you’d need to find a job even faster than last time, more of your remaining things probably already in her mind to be sold to pay the bills. The more you moved the less she worked it seemed, her goals raising higher and higher and forbidding her from taking anything less than what she wanted, so she relied on you to do the hard jobs, ones that kept you out until the late hours bussing tables or bagging groceries. It was hard work but it kept you away from her, so you didn’t mind as much as you already scanned the newspaper snatched from the lobby to search for any available jobs.
Your room was basically a closet this time in order for her to get the bedroom, just enough room for a bed and dresser, and you just stared at the available space before deciding that a single bed would be more beneficial to you after all, your double bed having supported you for many years and through more moves. You planned on just sleeping on the couch until you could find a cheap place to buy a new one, your resignation well practiced as her queen sized bed was carried to her room, her windows overlooking the city while your single one was blocked by the fire escape crossing it.
‘It looks almost like prison bars,’ you mumbled to yourself as you put away your few drawers of clothes, but there was no sadness in your voice, not for that kind of thing anymore.
One week and 13 applications later, you got yourself a job and a new mattress, it lying on the floor until you could save up for a new frame to go with it. It was another retail job, but with it you were able to switch out some older clothes for newer, thriftier things, so you saw that as a win. Your mother continued to apply for jobs out of her league, so while you tagged new items and folded the clothes you would search the paper beside you for more hirings, jobs with higher pay and late hours so you could fill out your day as much as possible.
It was through this method that you saw that UBC Studios was looking for interns and entry-level employees, people without much experience who wanted to get into television and were okay with being coffee runners and memo takers, and you circled that ad with your marker before getting back to the freshly washed batch of shirts you were currently pricing.
As soon as you were off work you walked the 47 minutes to the studio, cabs were a luxury you couldn’t afford with bills looming over your head, but you still kept yourself looking presentable as you approached the front desk and placed the paper in front of the receptionist. She smiled widely when she saw it, apparently not too many people wanted the job so they were behind on applicants, which was great news for you as you were led down a series of hallways until you reached the correct door. A man sat at his desk behind it, a cigarette filling the room with smoke and nearly obscuring him as he shuffled through a mountain of paperwork, even more files, and three different phones.
‘Mr. Fiske? I’ve brought someone interested in the job,’ the receptionist told him, and he didn’t even glance up as one of the phones rang, to which he quickly hung it up the moment he saw which button was blinking.
‘What job?’ he asked around his cigarette, the phone ringing again and making him groan before he unplugged the phone entirely and went back to the open folder in front of him.
‘The intern? For Night Owls?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I actually need to be paid, are any of those jobs still available?’ you cut in, Mr. Fiske glancing up over his sunglasses at you at the sound of your voice, like he hadn’t even realized you were already there.
‘What's your name?’ he asked then, and when you told him he snuffed out his cigarette and motioned for the receptionist to go back to her desk. ‘We have one paying job still open for Night Owls, but I gotta tell ya kid, it'll be long, late hours and that pay ain't that good; you're young and pretty, you wouldn't want that eating into your beauty sleep, or prime party hours, would you?’
‘If not here I'll just be working somewhere else, I don't have much of a social life,’ you admitted only because you really needed the job and it was hard enough finding places that were open late and actively hiring.
‘Shame, the city's missing out,’ he mused as he searched for a file and pulled it free, sending the rest of them toppling to the floor without so much as a blink. ‘Here, fill this out and I'll take you up, the place is empty right now but I can walk you around, give you a schedule if you can be here for 11PM tomorrow night to start?’ You nodded, stunned that already you'd been hired as you took the stapled stack of papers from him right as another phone rang, and this time he picked it up. ‘Take a hint already, I'm working,’ he snapped into the receiver before slamming it down again, and while that might have scared anyone else off you were ready to deal with whatever instability he could throw at you if it not only got you more money but also out of the Lodgings for a few more hours a day.
You finished filling out the application while he continued to go through his overwhelming amount of paperwork, a new cigarette already in his mouth and a glass of whiskey poured the next time you looked up at him. You cleared your throat to get his attention as delicately as possible, another glance over his sunglasses shot your way behind he was standing and taking the papers from you. He glanced over them just to be sure everything was in order, the file then tossed onto the only free corner of his desk before he was herding you towards the door.
‘Alright, your job'll be simple enough, just get here on time, fill whatever stupid request Jack wants to keep him as stress-free as possible, and be ready to do whatever inane bullshit I need in the meantime, you think you can do that?’ he asked as you walked, and again you could only nod as you pushed through a single set in a wall of double doors, a vibrant set coming into view before you. It was decorated in yellows, oranges, and browns, a wavy pattern painted onto the wall panels at the back, and you thought it was cozy and charming as you looked around. ‘You'll just be back here for the most part, it'll be stocked with everything you might need to grab so you won't have to learn the whole building, but sometimes I might need you to grab Jack's drycleaning, he's horrible with remembering that shit, can you drive?’
‘I can but- it's in the shop right now, so I mostly walk,’ you lied, not wanting to tell your new boss right out the gate that the reason you were walking was actually because your mother hoarded the car in case she needed it to answer any of her auditions.
‘You can use mine, I'll bring the Caddy from home and you can start driving the Brougham, you wreck it you're buying it though so keep that in mind,’ he told you before tossing the keys over his shoulder, your eyes widening at the thought of having an escape vehicle; you didn't have to sneak out the keys when your mother wasn't looking like this, a ride to freedom now in your hands as Mr. Fiske kept talking about the job, but you didn't hear a single word as your knees started shaking.
You'd wanted to run so many times when you were younger but that final failure had crushed any future attempts before you could even dream of them, your heart racing just like when you were a teenager as you gripped the keys and resisted the urge to run right then and there. She'd never have to know you'd left, it was a big city and people disappeared in it every single day, and by the time he caught on that you'd stolen his car and hit the road you'd be so far away that you could ditch it and start a new life on foot. A long-quelled hope filled you, one you thought would never return again, and when Mr. Fiske turned back to you to confirm that you were okay with every part of the job you planned on nodding your head, shaking his hand, and then never seeing your mother again.
‘Forgot my jacket, I'm doing an interview in 20 and you couldn't once pick up?’ A voice came from the side door, your hand stopping mid-reach for that handshake as you turned to see a dashingly handsome man with a scowl on his face approach you.
‘Told you I was working, here, I hired you an assistant so she would've been able to drop it off when I was done, now you don't gotta bust my ass over this nonsense anymore,’ Mr. Fiske told him as the man located and picked up his jacket from a nearby chair. He looked you over, his face softening when he noticed his arguing partner wasn't alone, and he took your outstretched hand and turned your goodbye into a greeting instead. Mr. Fiske told him your name when you couldn't speak, the man giving you the warmest smile you'd ever received in years before letting you go.
‘Jack Delroy, charmed to meet you,’ he said kindly, and in an instant your plan to leave disappeared again, not because you had to stay with your mother, but because you wanted to stay near him. ‘I suppose this can be your first task, you're technically off the clock but I'll pay you for the time if you'd accompany me to my interview downtown, I'm still getting used to all this and my thoughts are a little scattered,’ he admitted with a grin, your answer a quick yes as he led you outside and to his car, the Chrysler you were just gifted now forgotten in the lot as you stuffed the key into your pocket.
The interview was a success, the two of you going out to dinner afterwards to get to know each other better, and you understood why so many of his fans had followed his work as he relaxed you and made you laugh in what felt like forever. He wasn't just putting on an act as he talked with you, his genuine self on display for you even though no cameras were rolling, and by the time midnight rolled around and he had to sleep for the night you felt such a connection to him that you were almost sad to see him go.
‘Better sleep up tonight, we go live tomorrow night,’ he reminded you as you headed for the parking lot, but just as he was about to unlock the passenger door so he could drive you home you stopped him.
‘I don't live far, I can walk,’ you lied again, really not wanting to risk your mother seeing you get out of the car of a celebrity when she was trying so hard to be him.
‘You sure?’ he asked just to be certain, but you didn't budge as you forced a smile and took a step back to seal the deal. ‘Alright, I'll see you tomorrow at 11, then,’ he said before waving goodnight and getting into his car, your arms coming up to hug yourself as you watched him drive away. You waited until you could no longer see him in the crowd of cars before shoving your hands in your pockets to keep them warm, Mr. Fiske's - Leo, as Jack had called him over dinner - keys hitting your fingers and reminding you that happiness was still there in that parking lot. You swallowed it down and started on the walk back home, only getting lost a few times as you navigated the streets for the first time. It took a while but you were getting a better grasp of the place with each new location you traversed, which streets were familiar and which led to Broadway, and how you'd be able to get from your first job to the studio without wasting too much time.
You updated your mental map as you climbed the stairs to get home, no dinner waiting for you since your mother had already eaten hours ago and it was on you to feed yourself as an adult, but thanks to Jack you weren't hungry for once, the apartment dark as you headed right for bed and dreamt about brown eyes and kind smiles.
For once you were finding yourself to be happier as you went between jobs, the retail surprisingly easy despite the influx of customers so you never got a second to think about your mother, and then when you were done you napped in the back of your car until it was time to help Jack. You were never in front of the camera, which was good because that meant you were safe from your mother's gaze as she surely stayed up to watch the success that she craved, but sometimes you almost wanted to go out there to stand with him, take place in something that wasn't just working to live and then living for your mother while she drained every last emotion from you in her journey for attention.
You didn't indulge, just watching the monitors safely from the back as you munched on crew snacks, your job much easier than Leo had made it seem; Jack was so easy to work with he rarely asked you for a thing, and only once did you end up needing to leave as Leo grabbed your shoulder. He nodded towards the door, silently wanting you to follow, and you set down your little paper plate before getting up and letting him lead the way. He didn't stop until you reached the hallway, no threat of his voice carrying as he leaned in close and lowered his voice.
‘Alright, listen, it's Jack's birthday tonight, and he thinks I forgot cause he's gullible but I need you to run out and grab everything on this list before he's done so we can all celebrate at my place, you think you can do that in the next 45?’ he asked in a hushed whisper, absolutely no one around to hear and spoil the surprise as you looked at your watch and steeled yourself.
‘I can, I've done more in less time,’ you promised, and he gave you a pat before handing over a bunch of cash.
‘Good, leave it in the car and we'll keep it a surprise til we get to mine; I really need you to ham it on tonight, make it seem like this is all your idea until we get there cause otherwise he won't believe it for a second,’ he informed you, and while your acting was rough you still knew you didn't have to feign excitement when it came to him. He let you go then, the two of you separating as you hurried for your car, your heart racing at the thought of finally being able to drive it just for him.
You made quick work of the list thanks to Leo telling you exactly which store held everything, his soft spot for Jack that he constantly denied having coming in handy as you perused the aisles with great speed and checked everything off one by one. You felt almost giddy for the first time in years as you checked out the cards, this one not on the list, but you wanted to give him something personal as you glanced over them until one caught your eye; it was a child's card, so the age on it was wrong of course, but as you picked it up and looked inside you couldn’t contain your giggle at how perfect it was.
You added it to the cart and headed for the register, your watch telling you that you were making great time, but just as you got in line to check out you heard something that made your blood run cold: ‘Aren't you supposed to be at work?’ It was your mother, who was supposed to be at home watching Night Owls, her own small cart filled with things as she got in line behind you. ‘What are you doing buying alcohol? Since when do you drink?’
‘I, uh…’ you stuttered as everything was rung up, her eyebrow raising when she saw the card be scanned. ‘It's my boss’ birthday, so I was sent out to get a bunch of stuff for the party, I was going to call and say I'd be home late,’ you explained without going into too much detail, the cashier totaling it up and telling you what you owed. You pulled out Leo's money without a thought, your mother’s eyes widening when she saw it.
‘Where did you get all of that? I've been starving myself so you can afford to pay the bills,’ she gasped angrily, the cashier not saying a word as she removed herself from the conversation and started bagging everything the second your change met your hand.
‘I got it from Le- Nora, my manager Lenora, so that she'd be sure I had enough,’ you lied for the first time in your life, your mother staring you down with a frown.
‘Well you can use some of that on me, she doesn't have to know,’ was all she said before she left to grab more, and you just sighed without arguing and started to place everything on the register for her in her absence. You didn't want to use Leo's money on her, no matter how much change you had considering he'd given you a blind but large lump sum to cover it all, so you pulled out your own wallet and had it charged to your card when she was done, your watch beeping sadly to tell you that it was 1AM, you were now late. You tried to leave before her so you could speed back, but the moment you reached the door you realized that she'd see you get into your car, something she was bound to take to make herself look more impressive, so you forced yourself to stay behind and wait for her, helping her load her bags into her own car before pretending to hail a cab.
She didn't even say goodbye as she pulled out of the lot, the ice cream starting to melt and making the bag moist, your arms thankfully saving it before it could tear and spill everything onto the pavement. You didn't get back until everyone was leaving, the party still happening but without you there to convince Jack to go out he was focusing solely on your backup, his co-host Gus soaking up all the glory as everyone praised him for his good idea. You didn't meet Leo's eye as he headed for you, your hand already held out with the change as you prepared to take whatever anger he was about to dish out at you, but he didn't yell, just checked your backseat to make sure everything was there.
‘You really cut it close, just follow the convoy, and don't drink too much, I bet you $100 he's going to drink too much and need a ride home,’ he whispered before heading for his own car, the money ignored as you put it back in your pocket and got ready to follow again.
‘There you are, are you coming with us?’ Jack surprised you right as you opened the door, your body jumping back into his raised hands as you let out a yelp and dropped the keys. ‘Sorry about that, I didn't know my footsteps were so quiet,’ he joked as he picked them up for you like a gentleman.
‘It's my fault, I'm a bit distracted tonight,’ you said without meaning to, everything shoved back into a neat little box once more as you forced a smile.
‘Does that mean you won't go?’ He sounded almost disappointed, but that wasn't right, no one was ever disappointed when you couldn't join them, your lips parting slightly before you shook your head.
‘No, I'm going,’ you confirmed to him, his resulting smile so big that it could almost break your heart. He handed your keys back with a, ‘Good, I'm glad,’ before going to his car, the crowd thinning as car after car started up and created a parade. You were quick to hop in and follow before you were the last one there, your cheeks red the entire time to Leo's, who, you discovered, lived not only in his penthouse downtown but also had a large house all to himself as well. You learned that he used it for these private affairs and whenever he needed to get away, the address unlisted and why he was so relieved you'd made it back in time.
Everyone was parked all the way down the street, and the only reason you got a space in the driveway itself was because Leo himself stood in the way and got them to keep right on driving until you arrived. He helped you carry everything inside via the back, Jack already inside and getting many handshakes and pats on the back as congratulations, so he was none the wiser as you both set out the spread in the kitchen. The cake was pre-ordered and already waiting, and you were glad the ice cream wasn't too melted as you placed it, along with countless other treats and a few different brands of alcohol, on the island around it before Leo called everyone in.
The lights dimmed as the candles were lit, Jack too humble to accept it all as everyone got ready to sing, and you held your card tightly as he blew out the candles and filled the room with darkness and smoke and loud applause. When the lights came back on he and Leo were hugging, the latter once again denying his soft spot for him as he ordered for the cake to be cut before another year came and went.
You snuck out to find a pen before you could partake in the treats, a card already going around when Jack wasn't looking, and when you signed it you made sure to adjust your own before passing it on. You were just about to hand it over when he was snatched away, everyone wanting to talk to him tonight, and you let yourself fall into old habits as you grabbed some cake and melted ice cream and found a seat to yourself. Despite not getting to talk to him, it ended up being a fun night, everyone's hidden presents all grabbed from their cars and stacked in his lap as Leo took a picture, nothing from you in the pile as he unwrapped everything.
When he saw that Leo had somehow managed to find his favourite film for his U-Matic, everyone gathered around in his spacious living room to watch, and you quickly found out that he was also a fan of horror as you recognized the opening credits. He was a fan, and he claimed to love it, but still he cowered in shock and awe and absolute joy along with everyone around him while you secretly hogged the popcorn to yourself.
The party went on late into the night, Leo not letting you leave until Jack was ready to either crash there or catch a ride with you seeing as he did in fact drink a lot, and it was only when you got your producer alone in the kitchen did you try again to give him his change. He just looked at it before going back to his whiskey with a shake of his head, your head cocking to the side in confusion. ‘I only bet you because I knew I'd win, I don't actually want your money,’ he muttered as he took a sip, and you dropped the cash onto the counter and slid it towards him.
‘That's all your change from the list,’ you finally explained, and he took another sip before pushing it back to you.
‘Keep it, gas isn't free,’ he insisted before walking away in order to stop you from declining, and you felt your throat tighten as you stared down at the remaining couple hundred plus a few random bills and coins; it was more than you'd made in your last paycheck at your first job, and it would make up for what you'd had to dish out on your mother without worry, and you quickly wiped away a tear before putting it all back into your pocket with a silent thank you.
Now that that was settled you could go back to watching over Jack, the man no longer in the living room to your horror as you started to look for him. If he'd gone off to bed then that was all fine and dandy, you could go home and rest for a few hours until you had to work again, but if he'd driven off drunk then you'd never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to him; you checked the driveway and found his car still there, your hunt taking you through every single room in Leo's house as your panic grew and thoughts of what happened to him plagued your mind.
You thought you'd be used to this kind of feeling, after all, your mother put you through this kind of thing often, but this fear felt new as you threw open the master bedroom’s balcony doors and stepped out to breathe. You were used to the panic of losing her while she sought attention in all the wrong places, but that came with the twisted hope that maybe this time it'd be the last and you could go free; no, you were worried about him as you gulped down the cold, night air, your care for him more than it'd been for anyone you'd ever known. You tried not to cry as you asked the night where he'd gone only to hear a soft splash, your eyes following the yard lights to where a figure was sitting at the edge of the large pool down below.
It was Jack, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and a glass still in his hand, the ice clinking together as he swirled the remaining contents and tossed them back in one big gulp. You laughed in pure relief before heading downstairs as fast as you could, the way out of this maze nearly getting you before you reached the patio doors in the kitchen and stepped back outside. You approached cautiously, you didn't know if he was out there because of a sudden drop in mood after all, but when he heard your steps on the stone he looked up and smiled just like he always did.
‘Been looking for you,’ he surprised you by saying, and he motioned for you to sit next to him before gazing back out onto the lit up water. ‘I thought you might've left so I came out here to catch my breath before bed, Leo would kill me if I drove home like this.’
‘I was looking for you too, he told me to drive you home if you got too drunk,’ you admitted quietly, afraid of letting Leo overhear you ratting him out even though it was just the two of you out there, but Jack just laughed and kicked his feet through the water again, the source of the small splash you'd heard from above.
‘I've been taking care of myself long before I met him, you can tell him that I don't need a babysitter,’ he laughed, but then his voice dropped to something calmer as his eyes met yours, ‘although, I can't say I haven't been enjoying your company because of it.’
You swallowed, your heart pounding before you told yourself that he was just friendly, like this with everyone, no one ever waited for you once you chose your mother over them.
‘I bet you say that to all the girls who work for you,’ you joked if only to get him to admit that you weren't special, just a tool for your mother to use to get her affirmations that she was still good enough, but when he spoke next the world went quiet around you as even she disappeared from your mind.
‘Just the pretty ones, and you're the prettiest damn thing that's ever worked with me,’ he whispered softly, and when you turned to look at him you saw that his eyes were only on you.
‘Jack, you're drunk,’ you insisted more to yourself than to him, and when he leaned in close you found yourself frozen to the spot.
‘Maybe you should take me home, then?’
Your breath hitched as he placed his hand over yours, clearly too drunk to keep everything in, but you believed him as you nodded and helped him stand. He left his glass beside the pool where his shoes had been waiting, the two of you sneaking around the house to get to the driveway, his body occasionally bumping into yours as you led him to his car. His keys were pressed into your hand the moment you both sat down on the worn leather, his card digging into your side from your coat pocket, calling to you to give it to him while you ignored it, this wasn't the time. You turned on the heat so he could stay warm before taking off down the empty street, his mumbled directions of where to go leading you in a circle as he fought to recognize the houses surrounding you.
Eventually he got it, his house surprisingly small and cozy and not at all what you’d imagined as you parked once more. He was starting to sleep on the way there, hence the trouble with directions, but now that you were opening the door and helping him stand he was waking up again, his cheeks flushing as he watched you unlock his front door. You couldn’t stay, you needed to get some sleep before your morning shift, but he didn’t let go of you even as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his jacket to the ground.
‘Walk me up?’ he asked almost shyly, the lively host you’d gotten to know stripped away to leave only Jack behind, and you couldn’t leave him as you helped him get to his bedroom. The place was completely empty, devoid of any roommates or partners as he crawled onto his bed, and the moment you went to say goodnight so you wouldn’t ask about it you found his hands on your arm.
His touch was light, he wasn't holding you to keep you prisoner, and when he fell onto his side you joined him without a fight. His bed was big and soft, heat emanating off of him in a way you’d never known before, not even when you’d attempted to date when you had the small freedom of highschool to see other people, and when he touched your face in the dark you closed your eyes and tried to savour it because this couldn’t last, not while she was out there.
‘Stay with me?’ he asked next, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing onto his hand and choking back a sob.
‘No one wants me to stay,’ you whispered miserably, unable to hold your own truth in since he wouldn’t remember this in the morning, needing to say it just this once.
‘I do.’
You blinked and felt the tear run down your cheek, his other hand coming up to wipe it away before he was leaning in, giving you the freedom to turn away, get up and leave, but you couldn’t as you met him in the middle, your first kiss in 20 years only making you hold him tighter as he wrapped his arms around you.
You didn’t wake up the next morning to your alarm clock, but rather to the sound of birds outside your window, everything about that feeling wrong as you tried to roll over and found yourself trapped. You woke up a little more, not recognizing your surroundings as the heat around your stomach turned into arms, and when you looked down and saw Jack still holding you you felt such an ache run through you like you’d never known. You tried to lift his arm off of you without waking him, already looking around to see that your coat was on the floor while your dress was currently hanging off his nightstand from when you’d tossed it over your shoulder the night before, the sight bittersweet as he groaned in his sleep and held on tight.
‘Jack, please, I’ll be late for work,’ you moaned as you tried again, and he cracked an eye open and didn’t look like he regretted this but actually wanted you to stay.
‘Call in, you know the number, right?’ he mumbled into his pillow, trying again to keep you there, and you swallowed and adjusted your bra strap, still remembering the way he’d kissed your shoulder as he’d attempted to take it off, his fingers too clumsy and your heart too greedy to do anything other than climb on top of him and kiss him.
‘I can’t afford to.’ You’d never talked about your financial status before, too embarrassed and not wanting to weigh him down by your problems, and both eyes opened this time as he shifted close enough to press a kiss to your arm.
‘Then quit, work for Leo full-time, he’s gotta have something good enough to replace whatever you’re doing now, and I know his hours will be more lenient so-’ He paused, rubbing circles into your stomach as his other hand held on tight. ‘So you can stay with me.’
You laid back down, lip already quivering, and when he saw it his touch he was just as gentle as the night before. ‘You can’t mean that, you don’t know what my life has been like,’ you insisted, no more pretending that you were okay now that you were in his arms.
‘Then tell me,’ he almost begged, but when you refused with a shake of your head he didn’t press further. ‘I still want you to stay, regardless of what you’re not ready to tell me.’
It was the next morning, he was sober, he meant this.
‘I’ll stay,’ you finally gave in as you let the sun rise without going home, your first morning away from her as he pulled you to his chest and didn’t let you go until you’d both fallen asleep again.
You weren’t used to sleeping in, the feeling more comfortable than you remembered when you woke up again in the afternoon, Jack still snoring away without a care in the world. You were able to successfully sneak away that time, but not to find your way home or to work, but to make him breakfast, wanting to do this rather than having to for the first time in your life. You cooked quietly so he could sleep, you didn’t get to bed until close to 5AM once you’d kissed him back, and he didn’t join you until the food was almost ready.
‘Smells delicious, I don’t think I’ve had anyone do this for me before,’ he told you before kissing your shoulder, once again sliding your bra strap down as he pressed himself up against your back. It was strange to feel this wanted, but he made it easy as he located the plates for you and helped set the table. You talked while you ate, your breakfasts usually so quick and quiet before you had to run, but now you never wanted to leave as you watched him try to get through his hangover. He swore that more kisses helped, and you couldn’t disagree with that medical diagnosis between bites of eggs and drinks of coffee.
‘Oh! I have something for you!’ you suddenly remembered when he’d gotten his fill, your bare feet slapping against the hardwood and carpet as you raced back upstairs to find your jacket; when you returned his card was behind your back again, Jack looking interested until you presented it to him. It’d gotten a bit bent over the night, and leaving it trapped under your coat all morning hadn’t helped, but he looked like he loved this gift the most as he stared at the large cartoon owl on the front.
‘Look hoo-s birthday it is,’ he read aloud, your hands wringing as he opened it up and chuckled, ‘hope the party is a real hoot just like you, happy 42nd, with love.’
‘It was the only card with an owl,’ you were quick to explain, and he placed it on display on his mantle in his living room before returning to you.
‘It’s the best card I’ve ever received,’ he insisted as he kissed the top of your head, his arms around you in a long hug, your food going cold as you refused to let go of each other before he could kiss you again.
He drove you to work wearing your dress from last night after that, his clothes not quite fitting you enough to go out in public with them, and after you apologized for the sudden quitting and walked out with your final pay you met him right back in his chair so he could drop you off at home. It was past noon, there was a good chance your mother was out asking around every place of show business in town by now, so you risked being dropped off at least out of sight from any windows. He gave you a quick kiss goodbye, a silent promise that this wasn't going to end now that you were going home, and you gave him a genuine smile as you hopped out of the car and let him drive away so he could talk to Leo about your new potential job.
Your smile lasted all the way to your apartment, your cheeks flushing again as you remembered how it felt to be held and desired and loved until the door opened and you saw your mother standing there, waiting for you.
‘Where have you been? You never came home or even called last night, you show up in the middle of the day wearing the same outfit, you stink of booze and cheap cologne, did you lie to me last night?’ she demanded all at once, and usually you’d be groveling just to get her to leave you alone for a little while longer, say anything that would make her focus back on herself, but you still felt his arms around you, heard him whisper that he wanted you to stay in your ear, and your back straightened as you pushed your hair behind your ear and stood your ground.
‘I told you I’d be out late, I had to drive a co-worker home and ended up crashing on his couch, it’s no big deal, I’m home now,’ you scoffed, your tone not appreciated in the least as she then walked over to inspect you.
She circled you only once, her eyes narrowed as she checked you out for any trace of a lie, and when she stopped in front of you her eyes were cold, unloving. ‘You’re not seeing anyone behind my back again, are you? I thought we talked about this, after that boy tried to convince you to run away from home when you were just a teenager we’d agreed that you wouldn’t see anyone again.’ You remembered it well, the promise only kept because the heartbreak had held you back at the time, while her constant search for enough attention to finally satiate her kept you from ever being able to see anyone else ever again.
Until now.
‘I’m not,’ you lied right to her face, and when she didn’t back down you just sighed and went to take a shower and change. She grabbed your arm, refusing to let you go until you told her the truth, but you wouldn’t let her into your new life, not when you knew what she’d do to everything she could get her hands on if you did. ‘I’m not, and please take your hand off of me.’
She let you go, storming off towards her bedroom now that you were back, and when you’d grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom she cut you off only once more. ‘I heard that Jack Delroy’s birthday is today, they announced it at the end of the show when I got back from the store, what a coincidence that your boss’ was on the day before,’ she wondered aloud, your face not giving anything away as you held your clothes a little closer to your chest.
‘It was a lot of people’s birthdays yesterday, same with today, none of them have anything to do with me,’ was all you said before walking into the room and shutting the door, and when you undressed in front of the mirror you noticed that Jack had left a hickey on the space where your neck met your shoulder.
Even though you’d both attempted to keep it a secret, word got around very fast that you and Jack were now dating by the time the week was out. Leo had come through for you, now paying you - albeit under the table for now, just to keep your bills paid - to be his personal assistant instead, since Jack was now insisting that he didn’t want to be the boss of his girlfriend. You blushed every single time you heard the title, congratulations coming your way when he officially announced it to the crew that Monday, since everyone was already talking about it and he didn’t want your relationship to just be a rumour.
In front of everyone, he’d stood center stage and held you close, nearly making you cry again as he confessed his love to you, needing you to know that his desire for you to stay was that true, the thought of you not believing him such a worry to him that he’d rather tell everyone than have you go one more day without hearing him say that he loved you.
As such, you didn’t need to be backstage for him anymore, all your orders coming from Leo throughout the day to prepare, but still you were invited to watch each show, and still you went without fail, Jack stealing kisses during each commercial break like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of minutes. You didn’t know how to be this loved, it was almost suffocating, but it was in the best of ways, one that rivaled the way your mother suffocated you for your entire life. So you clung to him, let him drown you and wash you away until you knew how it felt to be cared for, the time when you were forced to leave him so as to not incur her wrath again the most painful moments of your life.
You couldn’t risk another sleepover, not after you’d just barely gotten away with the first and regrettably last, and you still couldn’t tell him why you had to part, but he was patient with you as he drove away and left you to walk home alone, your car once again left in the lot where she wouldn’t see it. Your life had been easy before, a numbness that you were used to, but living like this, where you now had this entirely secret life with small tastes of what you could always have if you finally just left, it was breaking you worse than anything you’d ever experienced before, and you didn’t know how much longer you could last before you ended up having to choose just one to save yourself.
You knew you needed to decide when you got back from work a few Fridays later for a proper nap after spending all day running around for Leo, your mind torn between trying to figure out how to stay the night after Jack’s upcoming halloween party, your shared favourite time of the year, and how to tell him that you were ready to either take your relationship to the next level or break up with him before your heart finally broke.
As such, you weren't paying attention as you walked into your apartment, your eyes on the ground as you mumbled nonsense to yourself, not noticing that something was wrong until you reached your room and saw the suitcase on your bed. You frowned at it, trying to remember when you’d put it there when your mother appeared behind you, gave you a hug from the back as she rested her chin on your shoulder, her grip so much colder than Jack’s to the point that it made you shiver. ‘New York isn’t working out for me,’ she sighed dejectedly, your mouth going dry as your eyes widened. ‘I thought I might catch my break here, but none of the places I’ve tried are ready for me, so we’ll just have to try again, maybe Chicago might be more successful to us this time.’
‘No,’ you murmured before you could stop yourself, your mother not hiding the way she didn’t like your reply.
‘What did you say?’
‘I can’t go, I’m happy here,’ you told her as you started to panic, the thought of being forced to say goodbye before you were ready hurting more than having to watch him drive away.
‘We’ve talked about this before, I need you to keep supporting me, I can’t do this without you.’ It was an old script, one you knew very well, the words only coming out when you became close to thinking for yourself. ‘Will you really keep me here if I’m not happy?’
‘But…’ You’d never been able to win this one against her before, and she didn’t let you win it again as she dug her nails into your shoulders, her hug over already.
‘I’ve already found us a place, the rent will be cheaper, and the theater I sent my headshots to liked what they saw, so I’m going to need you to keep paying the bills while I audition for plays down there, I think I’ve finally found my calling as a theater actress, don’t you want that for your mother?’ You couldn’t speak, Jack in your vision when you shut your eyes and tried to wake yourself up from this bad dream. ‘This will be the last time, I promise, no more men breaking my heart, no more dead end jobs, just the two of us while I become the star I was always meant to be, doesn’t that sound exciting?’
You shook your head, her nails hurting you as she spun you around, your eyes still shut tight until you felt her hit you; you looked at her as your cheek stung, her own eyes boring holes into you as she clung to you until you started to flinch to escape the pain.
‘You would leave your mother to fend for herself in a brand new city, all alone? Don’t you care about me? I’m the one who birthed you, raised you alone after your father left, let you see so many beautiful things across the country, and now you’re going to tell me no when I’ve finally found something I can be happy about? Don’t I deserve to have my dreams come true, you selfish brat?’ You didn’t know what had set her off before she was hitting you again, your arms coming up to protect yourself from her slapping hands. ‘I’ve sacrificed so much to do all this for you, the least you can do is pay me back!’
‘All I do is pay you back, I never asked for any of this!’ you yelled right back, your attitude now greatly unwanted as she pushed you onto your bed and slammed the door.
‘You can stand to miss a night of work, I keep worrying about you when you don’t get home until almost 2AM, maybe it’s high time you found another day job,’ she all but ordered as she shoved a kitchen chair under your doorknob, locking you in and stopping you from seeing Jack until Monday.
‘You can’t do this! I won’t go to Chicago!’ you screamed at her as you banged your hands on the wood, the chair then met with what sounded like the table as well for extra security, the window your only hope as you unlatched it and opened it up. You tried to fit yourself through but the stairs traveled directly across it, that hadn’t changed in the two months since your arrival, and you had to give up as you tore through your sleeve and cut your arm on the rusted metal. You slowly collapsed onto your bed, rain starting to fall outside and making your room chilly as you stared up at the slivers of cloudy sky up above. ‘Just like prison bars,’ you repeated softly to yourself as a raindrop bounced off the rail and hit you right in the cheek, your chest aching as you finally broke down into your pillow, your single bed so small and cold without him there.
You stopped crying by the time the sun had fully set, your mother watching TV just on the other side of your door, no pity for you no matter if you begged for it or not, and you were not about to do that ever again now that you knew what love felt like. You sat up, the rain still going strong and drenching your sill, your eyes tired as you stared at freedom just beyond the railing. You looked down at your arm when the wet chill made it sting, the rain making the blood run again as the droplets splashed onto the dried river running over your skin. You didn’t feel pain anymore as you watched it go, Jack’s hand appearing in your mind and leaving a trail of warmth as he rubbed it all away, a memory you were going to lose if you didn’t fight for it, and your eyes narrowed as you got onto your knees and took off your shirt.
You needed the space as you tossed it beside you, your skirt then joining it before you were gritting your teeth and attempting to push yourself through the gap again. This time nothing caught, your bare skin able to feel everything and help you angle over the rail, and when your torso was free you tried not to yell in relief as the rain washed over you. You used the stairs to pull yourself out, your leg also getting cut when you got too excited and lost your grip, but you didn’t care, your clothes quickly grabbed and tugged back on before you shut your window from the outside and hurried down the fire escape.
You didn’t stop running until you reached the studio, your entire body soaked and the blood at least washed away as you raced for the set, everyone wondering where you were until you appeared. You walked past them all, needing to get to Leo as he talked with someone about if they’d seen you around since that afternoon, and the moment you got his attention he quickly tried to escourt you somewhere you could talk openly.
‘I need to talk to Jack,’ you told him seriously as you stopped him not two feet into your walk, and he looked you over before nodding and motioning for someone to come over and help you. A coat from the wardrobe rack was placed around your shoulders as Leo openly stepped on stage to whisper something in Jack’s ear, no regard for the show at all in the face of your turmoil, and you watched on the monitor as Jack’s eyes grew wide in worry.
‘I’m sorry, we’re having a bit of technical difficulties backstage, so we’re going to take a quit break to hear from our sponsors while we sort this out,’ he told the audience with a forced smile, and the second the cameras were cut he was rushing back to find you; he was dead silent as he took you in, his hands hovering but not touching as you shivered under the coat, but the moment he saw the blood he froze, his gaze darkening to something dangerous, furious. ‘Who did this to you?’ he demanded, ready to hurt whoever had hurt you, but you just grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him towards the set door, knowing he couldn’t go far as the others gave you some space.
‘I need to tell you something,’ you began as he tried to rub the pain and chill away, your tears unnoticed as they blended in with the rain already wetting your cheeks. ‘I’m moving, tonight.’
‘What? To where? Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked, the anger instantly melting away to heartbreak, his expression only making this harder in combination with his hands still warming your arms.
‘I can’t say, I’ll call you with the location of Leo’s car when I get far away enough, but I just need to-’
‘Are you in trouble? Is that why you haven’t been letting me visit you? I can protect you, so can Leo, just tell me,’ he tried, but you couldn’t let him, not after your mother had finally crossed that line tonight. So you shook your head, your hands coming up to move his away but he wouldn’t let you go, he couldn’t, not while he was pleading for you to stay. ‘Don’t go, please,’ he whispered as he leaned his forehead against your own, your crying now apparent to everyone as he cupped your cheeks and held you in place.
‘I don’t want to,’ you confessed, your hands moving to his chest so you could push him away and get as far away from your mother as you could, but before you did anything the set door suddenly opened, someone seeing only him and thinking him ready to go back out there. The audience gasped and murmured amongst themselves as they saw you together, Jack shielding you from them as Leo hurriedly shut the door again, the man then stomping off to give someone a very bad scolding. ‘I’m sorry, she might’ve seen me, I have to go-’
Your name drifted through the area as your blood ran cold, Jack feeling the change in you and holding you closer as your mother came into view. You had no time to wonder when she’d gotten there before she was calling your name again in relief, Gus escorting her to you since she’d known who you were and clearly trusting her for that. ‘My sweet girl, so this is where you’ve been getting,’ she cooed as she approached, Jack unsure of what was going on as she soaked up her own personal audience. ‘I’m so sorry for the mess my daughter has gotten into, you see, she’s very unwell, sneaking out in the middle of the night to come here it seems, and no matter how hard I try to keep her safe she just keeps finding a way out.’
It was a boldfaced lie, and you silently begged Jack not to believe her as she held out her hand for you to take. ‘No, no she’s lying, she’s the one who did this to me,’ you insisted as the people who’d become your friends slowly gathered around to figure out what was going on, the show almost forgotten on the other side of the set walls.
‘I placed her in her room for the night and she slipped out the window while I grabbed her dinner, I hope you haven’t been feeding into her delusions- sorry, her fantasies, rather, while she’s been here?’ You couldn’t believe your ears, Jack starting to let go of you as he thought about all your times together, all your secrets in order to keep him safe from her, all of them working against you as she reached for you again. ‘Come now, we’ll get you home and all cleaned up, let’s stop bothering these nice people so they can get back to work.’
‘I work here too,’ you insisted but the damage had been done, everyone looking at you differently as Jack took a step back, handed you over to the woman you’d so desperately tried to escape. ‘Jack, no, please- you said you wanted me to stay!’
‘I’m going to get you some help, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he promised as your mother began to lead you away, your friends all standing aside so she’d have an easier time, and when the stage door closed you saw Leo yelling at Jack as he just stood there and took it.
You were silent the entire way home, your head resting against the glass as the rain beat against it, your mother equally as silent until you were back in your apartment again. The TV was still on, just a ruse to make you believe she was still there as she waited for you in the only place she was certain you’d go, and she’d been right, you didn’t know how but she was. Now you were back home, forced to move the table and chairs back into place so you could sleep in your damp bed.
‘I’d fix that window for you, but we’ll be moving soon enough, so there’s no point,’ your mother told you as she made herself some tea to combat the chill, your door wide open as you curled back up on your bed. ‘Yes, no need, unless you wanted to stay?’ You flinched but didn’t rise, not wanting to take the bait after what she’d just done to you; she took her cup in hand and sat down at the end of your bed, stirring the sugar in with a spoon as she gazed down at the foamy patterns filming over the surface of the dark liquid. ‘Your little secret is out now, but I’ve known for weeks, a mother always knows when her child is messing around, the mark he left on your shoulder was all the proof I needed.’
‘I’m not a child,’ you muttered numbly, but she ignored it.
‘You really believed he’d fallen for you, but all men are fickle, my dear, which is why we can’t trust any of them in love,’ she continued, her spoon tapping against the rim before she set it on your bed, the remaining tea staining your sheet. ‘Of course, in business, they still have some worth to us.’ You glanced weakly up at her as she took a sip, not wanting her to say what you knew she was going to the moment she was done. ‘I don’t know how you managed it, but my guess is that you seduced Mr. Delroy that night in order to gain his favour, didn’t you?’
‘I didn’t-’
‘You think so, but I saw the dress you came home in, no man could’ve resisted that,’ she stated plainly before taking another sip, your brows furrowing as you fought not to believe her, that Jack had asked you to stay because he’d liked you, not your outfit no matter how many glasses he’d had. ‘So, you seduced him, got on his good side as well as the studio’s, and now you’re going to pay me back with all your hard work.’
You sat up then, her eyes not on you at all as you tried not to cry again. ‘You just ruined my life, took away everything I love, why would I ever want to help you?’ you demanded pitifully, your mother taking another sip before placing the empty cup on your dresser.
‘Because if I start working there then you’ll be able to see him again, even if you will have to act like what I said tonight is true, there’s simply no way they’ll allow you back after the scene you caused, after all.’ You grabbed her by the shirt and forced her to look at you, tears running down your cheeks as she just stared right through you. ‘It’s been a long time since you’ve been this rebellious, but don’t worry, once I become the star I was always meant to be, just as we planned earlier, then you’ll be able to find a dream of your own.’
‘I don’t need a dream, I was happy there,’ you cried as you just held onto her, supporting yourself more than grabbing her as the resignation started to sink in, ‘why couldn’t you just let me have this one thing? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me this much?’
‘Hate you? My dear, I’m your mother, I could never hate you,’ she consoled you with a comforting brush to your cheek, but it held no love or warmth to it at all, just like always. ‘Loathing you, though, that’s another story.’ Her hand fell away as she stood, her spoon and cup left behind as she stood in your doorway and looked coldly down on you. ‘Who gave you the right to steal my life, parade it around for weeks while I wasted away here? Losing him is the only kindness you deserve after all of that, and when he comes around tomorrow you’re going to play the part of my sweet, sickly daughter so I can get close to him to, earn myself my own segment on his show until I can get an hour all to myself, won’t that be divine?’
‘He’ll never want to work with you, he’s a good person,’ you swore, but all the venom was gone as she just smiled hopefully and walked off for her room, your body growing heavy as you fell back down onto your side and cried until you were numb again.
You were still in bed when he came, someone else letting him in since he didn’t know your apartment number, that same someone more than likely giving him directions up to your lodgings. You didn’t move, too exhausted to get up and have him believe her again, and you wished you had the energy to at least shut your door as you watched your mother hurry to let him in when he knocked. She looked good as she passed through your vision, dressed to impress just as always, and you knew you looked a pathetic mess as you just stared at the wall and tried to block out the sound of his voice when confusion met your ears instead.
‘I’m sorry, who are you?’
‘Leo Fiske, producer of Night Owls and your daughter’s ex-boss, I just need to ask some questions to see if the studio wants her to reimburse all the money she’s been receiving under false pretenses,’ he explained in a tone you hadn’t heard before, your brows furrowing as your mother let him in. He appeared in your doorway and shut the door behind him, and you were in the middle of getting ready to explain that you had no money to pay him back when he spoke first. ‘Thank you for your time, I’m sure we’ll be able to sort through this as painfully as possible! Get up.’ He hissed the last part through his teeth, his voice switching from loud and boasting to as quiet as possible as you just stared, and he motioned for you to stand as he started going through your drawers without making a sound. ‘It’s a substantial amount, but if we explain your case to the higher ups I’m certain they’ll knock some of it off! He’s coming, get up.’
You listened that time, helping him find you some clean clothes before stripping down in front of him when he seemed very unbothered by the sight of your undergarments in the top drawer. ‘Why are you doing this?’ you whispered as you tossed your dirty clothes aside, Leo holding up a blouse to you before shaking his head and going for something else instead.
‘Because Jack’s an idiot, I told you he was gullible, that man would sell his soul if the contract was worded just right,’ he muttered quietly, and you believed him as he picked out an outfit and turned away so you could pull on some clean underwear and a new bra.
‘So, you don’t believe her?’ It was almost too good to be true, Leo turning on his heel to help you do up the zipper on the back of your shirt the moment you had it on.
‘Fuck no, I called that horseshit the second she opened her mouth, that woman is a terrible actor,’ he told you as he zipped you up, a comb coming out of nowhere to fix up your hair a little. ‘Look, he meant well last night, but I kicked his ass for you after you left, so don’t give him too hard a time when he arrives; I left the moment he called me, and he has zero ability to handle downtown traffic so we’ve got about three minutes to talk.’
‘She’s trying to blackmail me into getting her a job.’
‘Yeah, I figured that, a good producer can always sniff out the narcissistic types.’
‘She’s always done this, but I’ve never had the courage to fight back until… I met all of you,’ you confessed, Leo spinning you around to fluff your hair and wipe some smudges from your cheeks.
‘That’s because you’re a Night Owl, knew you were the moment you wanted the job, so you get out there when he comes and you knock that bitch on her ass, you hear me?’ He clapped his hands over your arms in encouragement, and when another knock came to the door he quickly excused himself so Jack wouldn’t see him leaving your room. ‘There you are, already talked to her about the repayment, so you can do whatever business you’ve got with them now.’
‘Repayment?’ Jack’s voice was confused but still sounded like music to your ears as you willed your heart to not beat out of your chest, your feet moving on their own as you stepped out into the living room to face him. He looked tired, his usual joy at seeing you quickly quelled by the shame of how he’d let the night before end, and it took all your strength not to go to him and tell him it was okay, you understood. ‘I, uh, I still want to help in any way I can, are there any treatment centers I can help pay for, or perhaps drive her to?’ he asked your mother, that not the answer she wanted to hear as she swayed her way over to him.
‘It means so much to us that you’ve grown so fond of her, Mr. Delroy, ever since her father left things have been hard for us, money has been tight; if you truly wish to help then a more- stable income would be very advantageous to us both,’ she led, Leo putting his head in his hand behind her back as he just kept seeing right through her.
‘I can ask around, see if anyone has any positions open?’ he suggested, and for a moment you were worried that he was still buying into it when he looked at you; you saw the switch between showman and himself, his true self that he’d shown you while he laid in bed across from you. He may have bought it the night before but he wasn't now that he was able to see you without the rush of the timeframe and the stares of his crew. ‘But in the meantime, I’d really like to get her in a more suitable place, somewhere she can be taken care of where she won’t hurt herself again, and I’d like to get that done today, if you don’t mind.’
‘Wha- today? But we haven’t discussed all of our business yet,’ she was quick to decline, and when she went to grab onto you to keep you still, Leo moved just as fast to put himself between the two of you.
‘We can discuss it another time, you just give us your contact info and we’ll call you back,’ he muttered flatly as he herded you towards Jack, your mother starting to catch on when he then left you to toss everything you owned into the suitcase still laying on your floor.
‘Wait a minute, you can’t take my daughter away from me,’ she frowned angrily, your hand reaching for Jack when she stepped in front of you to stop you. ‘You can’t leave me, you remember the last time you tried that, don’t you? What child leaves her poor mother all alone like this for someone who’ll only break her heart again?’
‘I’m not a child!’ you yelled in her face, Leo smirking to your right as he leaned against your doorframe, suitcase in hand. Jack just stared, not wanting to get between you but not about to leave you again, and you borrowed his strength as you stood up tall and sucked in a deep breath. ‘I’m a grown woman! I’m almost 40 fucking years old, and I will not let you hurt me anymore!’
‘Hurt you? I am your mother, I would never-’
‘Dragging me across the country, using me to pay your bills, never letting me have a life of my own, and now trying to make it seem like I’m broken just so you can step in front of the cameras? I’m not broken, no matter how hard you try you can never break me, and for once in my life I’m choosing to stay with people who actually give a damn about me!’ Your shoulders shook as you cried, but not in misery this time, you were crying because you were angry, Leo giving you a few slow claps before heading for the door, a cigarette already lit as he carried your suitcase to the car for you, so certain that you’d follow that he never looked back. You’d let her rule your life for too long, and she’d managed to talk you out of it before but not this time, not when he was right there, waiting for you even though he knew everything.
There was nothing left to keep from him, your abuse out in the open and explaining everything you’d kept from him, and he just smiled at you as he held out his hand for you to take.
‘What will you do when this ends? All men leave in the end, and this one’s in showbusiness, you think he won’t find someone younger and prettier than you the moment you hold onto him too hard?’ she demanded to know like he wasn't even there, Jack knowing better than to argue even though you knew he never would. Even if he fell out of love with you someday it would never be for those reasons, and as you took a step forward you knew that he might not even fall out of love with you as he mouthed the words to you again as his final plea for you to stay.
‘I’ll figure that out without you, then,’ was all you said, and then you were shoving past her to throw yourself into his arms. He held you close as he kissed the top of your head, your mother yelling insults and begging you not to go as you cried against his chest, and when he turned and led you out you didn’t stop until you reached his car and climbed into the passenger seat, Jack kissing you properly the moment his own door closed.
You had no idea if your mother stayed in New York after you finally left her, several calls to the studio to find you going ignored, her picture everywhere as she was banned from the premises. You moved into Leo’s house for the first few weeks, that final step between you and Jack making you both blushing messes at the thought of living together so soon and stopping it from happening. Leo was fine with that, his house was empty most of the time anyway so you were free to rest up there while the restraining order was put into motion, one of his many spare bedrooms becoming your own as they, along with your other new friends, took care of you for once.
The matter was cleared up around the studio, the news catching hold of the entire story after the camera had accidentally caught you along with the audience; suddenly you found yourself everywhere, your mother attempting to cash in on that only for Leo to step in and nip it all in the bud. You were constantly surprised by how much influence this random man had, but you were grateful for it all the same as he pushed you out the door and into Jack’s arms so he could take you shopping for some new clothes, your wallet full of his so-called petty cash again.
It was almost scary how accustomed to your new life you became, how fast you got used to stretching out in bed and waking whenever you wanted, Jack always a phone call or a drive away, no more bars or rails stretching across your windows as you threw them open and breathed in the fresh, October air. Halloween was coming up, and this time the party was going to be at Jack’s house after his special Spooktacular show, as he was now calling it. The guests were all booked, you’d bought decorations for the set with him already even though Leo told him to leave it to the set designers, and currently you were chatting about what he was going to wear before his costume change halfway through the show as you sat at the drive-in with him to see the latest horror flick.
He already ate away at your shared popcorn as the screen showed a bunch of cartoon characters grabbing snacks from the concession stand, the turnout not as busy since home viewing was on the rise, but you liked it that way as you leaned in closer to him. ‘I think it’d be cute if you gave away candy to the audience as they arrived,’ you thought aloud, once again attempting to stop him from eating all your treats before the movie even started, ‘or maybe you could do a draw and some lucky people could get candy apples, I hear those are tasty.’
‘You’ve never had one before?’ he asked around another mouthful of popcorn, the sun nearly set and signaling that the movie was going to start soon.
‘Never got a chance to trick ‘r treat thanks to her, I’ve only ever handed out candy if I could afford to buy a bag for the kids,’ you explained, no longer afraid to keep everything to yourself.
‘I’ll set something up at the studio, then we can go around to the different sets and offices and get you some candy,’ he promised seriously, and you laughed as you had some popcorn for yourself.
‘Thank you, but I think I’ll survive,’ you giggled, although the thought of visiting Leo’s office in costume only for him to give you a pack of smokes or a travel-sized bottle of alcohol and then shut the door in your face sure sounded tempting. ‘Jack, can I tell you something?’ you then asked, your hand finding his when he reached for more popcorn. ‘I never thought I’d get out of there, my whole life I thought that that was it, that I’d missed my chance to leave and that this was my punishment, but… meeting you, getting the job on Night Owls, knowing what it’s like to be actually wanted for the first time, I don’t know, sometimes I still think I might be dreaming.’
He looked at you for a long while, really taking you in before getting you to look at him. ‘One of our guests, the illusionist, you remember him? He taught me a little phrase to say when I think that all of this is just a dream,’ he confided in you in return, and you leaned in a little closer as he lowered his voice. ‘Say it with me: Dreamer. Here. Awake.’
‘Dreamer, here, awake,’ you repeated, and when the dream didn’t end he tapped you on the nose as proof before kissing your forehead.
‘See? Sometimes what’s too good to be true is just what we can’t let ourselves accept, so we tell ourselves otherwise until we lose it; now, I don’t want to lose you, so you’d better start accepting that this is reality, okay?’ he whispered gently to you, his buttery hand finding your cheek and making you giggle again because it was too silly to be just a dream.
‘This is reality,’ you agreed, and when he kissed you he tasted of the popcorn he’d all but devoured by himself. It was sweet at first, but the more you kept pulling each other back for more the more you knew you were ready, Jack panting lightly when you finally resisted the urge to kiss him again. ‘Can I tell you something else?’ you breathed against his lips, and when he nodded you shut your eyes. ‘I want you to be my first.’
He already knew about your inexperience by now, how you wanted to move slow with him while you got used to everything, so there was no rushing you as he bit at his lip and looked you seriously in the eye.
‘Are you sure?’ he needed to know, and when you nodded he set the popcorn onto the floor between your legs and started the car back up. ‘We can see this another time, it just came out,’ he decided as he drove away, both of your hearts pounding as he headed back home right as the opening credits started to roll.
You were thankful he lived near the drive-in, a choice on his part since he loved movies so much but never committed to a U-Matic like Leo, and the moment you walked through the door you were kissing each other again. ‘Hi,’ you mumbled nervously, Jack echoing your greeting as you both took off your outdoor clothes and made your way upstairs. You hadn’t slept over since that night, not even when you started stealing Leo’s spare, but his bed was just as warm and comfortable as you remembered as he lifted your dress over your head and laid you down on it.
You thought he was beautiful as he stripped off his sweater, the weather getting colder and making him switch from suits to warm wool, the thick shape of it doing nothing to hide the way his body curved so wonderfully under your palms. You silently asked for him to join you as he stepped out of his pants, your mouths meeting again as he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek. ‘I’m glad you stayed,’ he finally told you as he lay next to you, his hand resting on your waist as the silent question of what to do next came over you.
‘I’m glad I did too.’
He pulled you closer, his fingers much more dextrous this time as he undid the latch on your bra, your hands covering yourself before he whispered silent affirmations to you, never to make you do anything you didn’t want to, but just to tell you it was okay, you could stop whenever you wanted. You didn’t want to stop though, your hand finding his in the dark before guiding it down to your breast, and the resulting sound he brought out of you was one you’d never heard yourself make before. He was encouraged to keep going, keep making you feel good as he shifted down enough to take a nipple into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as you shut your eyes and moaned.
You whispered his name as he then trailed his hand over the expanse of your stomach, fingers brushing against the lace of your underwear but never going further, and again you guided him to do more, your breath hitching as he touched you for the first time. Your hips started to move as he began kissing your neck, his index pressing just just hard enough to part you through your panties, a longing like you’d never known overtaking you as you weakly asked for more. He obliged your every whim, finally reaching in to touch you even more intimately, your brain torn between the way he sucked marks into your skin and how he was making your thighs shake with each circle of your clit.
‘Please, I want you…’ you murmured as your head fell back, the tears already starting to fall because you’d never known warmth like this before, and he kissed every one away as he reached down even further to enter you. It was strange at first, your back arching as your mind fought to understand how something could feel so good, Jack still whispering those affirmations to you about how good you were doing for him as he gently stretched you open for him. When he added a second finger you almost couldn’t take it, everything so good that you didn’t know how it could feel any better, a careful but constant brush of his palm against your clit pushing you over the edge as he swallowed down every noise.
‘You did so well for me,’ he praised you as he slowed to a halt, but you weren’t done, you could feel his hardness press needily against your leg, your eyes glazing over for just a moment as you reached down to not only stop him from removing his hand but to also start to push his boxers down his hips.
‘I said I wanted you.’ You swallowed heavily when he couldn’t help but groan, he’d been content with helping you and then taking care of himself at this step, but there’d be a time for you to return the favour later, for tonight you wanted to be one with him. He asked you if you were sure again, and you answered him by taking off your panties and tossing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He swore under his breath before doing the same, Jack then reaching into his nightstand to pull out a small bottle of something. He popped the cap and poured a little into his palm, and you couldn’t help but watch as he groaned again and began to coat his length with it, his hand next to your arm fisting the sheets as his breathing started to quicken.
He looked down at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he parted your legs, lifting them to your chest for just a moment as he lined himself up to you. He preferred to brace his hands under your thighs as he slowly pushed in, his choked off moan filling the room along with your own as he leaned down until you were almost chest to chest. He needed the closeness, wanted to be so near to you that it almost hurt, his hips still as he let you adjust to him. When you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave a small squeeze to his shoulder he knew he could move, his pace just right as he let his head fall to the pillows right beside yours.
He rocked into you, making love to you more than fucking you, and you didn’t let go of him as he kissed your neck and cheek whenever the angle allowed him to. He mumbled promises of forever into your skin, and when you wrapped your legs around him he was finally free to let go of your legs to hold you elsewhere instead, one hand braced on your hip while the other massaged and felt and clung to whatever he could reach.
‘I love you,’ he breathed into your ear, more tears falling as you felt your orgasm approach again, the preparations from before feeling nothing like this as you felt complete for the first time in your life. ‘I love you so much, stay with me, here, from now on.’
‘I will, I will,’ you promised him, Jack finding your mouth to kiss you and seal the deal as you came again, the way you clenched around him only making him come that much faster right after you. It felt like an eternity of bliss as he hips slowly stopped, Jack taking his sweet time rolling off of you and making you think that he would’ve spent all night with you underneath him if he didn’t think it would be uncomfortable for you, so you gave him the next best thing by draping yourself over him, leaving no space between your slightly shaking bodies.
‘I love you, too,’ you confessed against his chest, another kiss to the top of your head making one final tear fall as you felt nothing but pure, uncontained happiness.
‘I wasn't kidding, I want you to move in with me,’ he revealed as he stretched out, his arm wrapped around you and keeping you close when he feared you might get up at his words. ‘I’ve been talking to Leo about it all week, after the Halloween show I want to introduce you to all the Night Owls out there, and then we can move all your things over here before the party.’ He went quiet for a moment, unsure by your silence, and when he looked down at you you took a moment to kiss him again, never wanting it to end as he cupped your cheek. ‘I want you to make this place your home.’
‘I want nothing more than that,’ you just barely kept from sobbing, Jack’s smile wide as his relief made him sigh.
‘We’ll do that, then,’ he confirmed, your head back on his chest as he rubbed circles into your shoulder. ‘Don’t forget to dress up for the show, it is Halloween, after all.’
‘I’ve never dressed up before, what should I go as?’ you asked, Jack pretending to think about it for just a moment before biting his lip.
‘How about Dracula’s bride?’ he suggested, knowing fully well that he was already going on set dressed as a vampire, his costume picked out earlier that day.
‘That sounds perfect to me, we can pick it up tomorrow.’
Again, he held you until you both fell asleep, the previously neverending feeling of running finally at an end as he nuzzled against you in his sleep; you were happy there, the bed large around you as you both took up just the middle, the windows wide open and allowing in the night air as you were lulled into your own comfortable sleep.
You were free.
#Ray's Readers#Ray's Requests#david dastmalchian#jack delroy#jack delroy x reader#went between a few songs this time since I was at work but my god#listen to this one with I Found by Amber Run and it'll set the mood entirely#I was totally imagining Constance from AHS s1 as the mom while writing. they have the same vibes. only this mom does not love her daughter.
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Okay so I had a dream about a Yandere choir x Ocean concept, let me explain (the brainrot is real) (out of character cause it was dream I guess??):
So it was in Ocean's POV, before the cyclone/the cyclone accident never happened, and everyone hates Ocean, no surprises.
Until one day while alone in the choir room, Ocean has a breakdown because of that, she starts to cry, until Penny appears out of nowhere and tries to comfort Ocean, saying she didn't hate Ocean, and they became friends after that.
Now, Ocean is less annoying with Penny, started to hang out more with her and less with Constance, and she stopped talking with the other members UNLESS it's something choir related or really important.
And the rest (Ricky, Constance, Noel and Mischa) are like " Hold up a second- ".
Constance started to get really jealous and hurt, she didn't know why, actually, everyone started to feel weird seeing Ocean hang out with Penny and being nice to her (hell, maybe even having a crush on her)
Like
Ocean :I love you so much Penny-
Choir (except Penny and Ocean): STOP!! NO-
#― the angel catalogue !#― abbey !#― sky !#― ride the cyclone !#― ocean o'Connell rosenberg !#yanderes#yandere#yandere?#yandere ride the cyclone#yandere concept#yandere prompts#yandere scenarios#yandere writing#ride the cyclone#rtc#rtc musical#ride the cyclone musical#perfectdolls#penny rtc#jane doe rtc#penny lamb#ocean oconnell rosenberg#ocean rosenberg#ocean rtc#st cassian chamber choir#constance blackwood#mischa bachinski#ricky potts#noel gruber#ocean x penny
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how I feel when I look at my ao3 screen and see no less than 20,000 fat fuck off words for the next chapter of clumsy that hasn’t even been put into understandable edited writing yet
Help.
#no because what the FUCK#no because this is what I’ve been doing for the last two months#when I could have been writing about 1000 drabbles with this knowledge#i know it’s been a few months but at least I’ll be most likely posting this into two chapters at once for yall#constance hardbroom#tww98#the worst witch#mildred hubble#im posting this to procrastinate editing it#but im so excited to share soon!!!#kate duchene#writers on tumblr#my fic#ao3 author#ao3#milbrooms TWW tag
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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan noticing that Aramis came back from Douai thinner than before, and when asked about it Aramis just keeps avoiding the question, until he finally admits that he wasn't eating because in the couple months before the reunion, provisions were running low (war, duh) and he always found ways to give his rations to the children because he couldn't bear seeing them hungry.
#Constance turns into a grandma and all but force feeds him after d'art tells her#bbc musketeers#the musketeers#aramis#porthos#athos#d'artagnan#I'm doing the screenwriters' work and writing various ways in which the four become InseparableTM again after Aramis returns#just protecrive fussy brothers!!!
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