#you know our mans went home that night and jacked it.

[gayboydetectivez]

One of my favorite DBDA headcannons is that after 16yrs of repressed homosexuality (boarding school style), 70+ years in hell, and 40 more years of repressed homosexuality plus trying not to fall in love with his only friend, Edwin has to be feeling uncontrollable levels of horny after interacting with the cat king and that's why he gets so snippy until Nikko offers him the "explicit" Manga and he suddenly sees Monty as a legitimate love interest.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.

Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.

If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.

It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.

The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.

Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.

Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.

The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.

Fine by Danny

. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.

Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.

He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.

He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.

This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.

If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.

A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.

"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.

"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."

".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."

"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."

"Yes."

"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."

Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."

"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."

Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."

"I really did. Jason tested me."

Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."

"I am comfortable doing nothing."

"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.

Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.

"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."

Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.

He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.

"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.

"I like that."

Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.

On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.

No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.

[kedsandtubesocks]

seasons of you (year 1 - spring)

Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance

word count: 5.4k

a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.

For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.

“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”

At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.

He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.

“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.

After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.

It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.

Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.

Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.

One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.

From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.

But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.

“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.

Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.

“You alright?!”

The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.

Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.

You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.

“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.

“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.

“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.

He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.

“What happened!?” He barks confused.

Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.

“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.

Joel sighs angrily.

“Come on.”

Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.

“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.

“I’m fine.” You snap back.

“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.

Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.

It’s larger than your grandpa's.

Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.

So you let your eyes wander.

Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.

Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.

After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.

“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.

You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.

“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”

You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.

“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.

“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.

“Not all the time.” He replies.

You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.

He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.

“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”

Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.

“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.

“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.

You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.

Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.

“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.

A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.

“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”

“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.

“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.

“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.

You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.

“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”

There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.

“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.

“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”

You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.

“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”

Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.

“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.

This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.

“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.

Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”

You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.

“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.

Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.

“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.

“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”

You snort at that.

“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.

Joel chuckles.

It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.

“Alright, all fixed up.”

The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.

“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.

“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.

“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.

This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.

Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.

“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.

“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”

He hums a noise of acknowledgment.

Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.

“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.

He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.

Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.

“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.

Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.

“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.

It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.

“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.

“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.

Joel nods and with that you head out.

You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.

But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.

You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.

When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.

- ☼ -

Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.

His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.

You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.

Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.

Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.

Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.

Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?

Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.

You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.

By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.

Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.

The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.

You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.

The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.

A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.

Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.

You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.

“Where y’heading?”

You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.

When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.

Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.

“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.

“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.

Alone with Joel Miller once again.

The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.

Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.

“No new crops coming in?”

“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”

“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.

“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.

“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.

You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.

“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”

You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.

A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.

You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.

“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.

“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”

“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.

Kid.

“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.

Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.

“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”

A daughter. He’s a dad.

It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.

“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.

“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”

So he’s an empty nester.

Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.

Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.

“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.

“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.

Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.

“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”

“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.

“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.

You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.

“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”

The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.

You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”

“Takes after me.” Joel nods.

“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.

“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”

A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.

“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.

Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.

“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.

There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.

Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.

“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.

You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.

Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.

“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.

Maria yells out Joel’s name again.

“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.

The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.

But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.

Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.

Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.

“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.

“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.

Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.

“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”

You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.

“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.

Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.

Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.

Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.

Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.

So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.

Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.

- ☼ -

The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.

The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.

“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.

He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.

Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.

With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.

“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.

Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.

“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.

“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.

He’s Joel’s brother.

“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.

You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.

“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”

Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.

You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”

A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.

“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.

Yet his eyes remained glued on you.

You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.

“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.

Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.

Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.

“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”

Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Shit.

You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.

Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.

Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.

At least this will be over soon.

The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.

His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.

“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.

Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.

“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”

Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.

Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.

He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.

For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.

“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.

“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.

Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.

Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.

“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.

“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.

“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.

He continues walking alongside you.

Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.

“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.

“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.

“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.

You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.

“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.

Joel however rolls his eyes.

“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.

It sounds like a promise.

You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.

“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”

He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.

Joel is walking you home.

And he called you sprout.

You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.

Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he��s trying to keep you focused.

To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.

Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.

Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.

He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.

“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.

Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.

It feels different seeing him here.

Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.

Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.

“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”

Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.

“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.

“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.

When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.

However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.

So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.

“Wait how will I know you made it back?”

Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.

A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.

“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.

You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.

A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.

Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.

You wish so badly to wave back.

Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.

Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.

Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.

Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.

Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

A continuation of Bad News First, Eddie. I am absolutely floored by the responses I received, and I will try my best to tag everyone who asked. I know it's not Eddie's part, but chronologically, Wayne's part felt right.

-

Of all the things Wayne’s been called, unobservant isn’t one of them. He’s lived in Hawkins his entire life. He knows who is who, what is what, and to keep his head down and believe there’s a cougar in the woods when he’s told.

So, when Nancy Wheeler shows up, asking questions, Wayne has answers. Is willing to give those answers because he remembers when little Will Byers went missing, and how Nancy and her friends had done more to try and find him than the entire police force of Hawkins. Nancy and her friends always seemed to be in the orbit of whatever terrible thing was happening in Hawkins these last few years.

So, foolishly, terribly, he doesn’t intervene. He thought they were like that Scooby Doo cartoon Eddie used to love; kids solving mysteries. If he’d known the true extent of the horror, he wouldn’t have let those kids go it alone. But he didn’t know then.

-

Still didn’t know the day he pretends to not know who Dustin Henderson is while swapping out Eddie’s missing poster. It’s easier than having to face someone who knows Eddie, someone who had been looking for him but failed to find him.

Until Dustin calls after him. Until Dustin speaks to him. Hands him Eddie’s necklace. Wayne can’t stand anymore, this breaks him. Dustin says he was with him, in the end. Calls Eddie a hero, said people would have loved him had they known him. It’s nothing Wayne doesn’t already know.

Eddie is his hero. He loves Eddie. And if he’d stepped in sooner, chased down these kids and asked just what the fuck was happening, maybe he could have changed the ending of this story.

-

Hawkins explodes into a hellscape days later and Wayne sets out to find Nancy Wheeler. If Eddie gave his life to protect these kids, then Wayne must strive to do no less.

Nancy’s got a good head on her shoulders, willing to accept any help offered. He can see how she’s survived this long. She gets in in touch with Hopper, who introduces him to Doctor Sam Owens and Lt Colonel Jack Sullivan.

-

He doesn’t think it’s fair that the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old girl.

-

It’s Dustin who tells him the whole story, the night before the end. Either Eleven will win tomorrow, or she won’t, but the outcome gets decided then.

“I’m s-so sorry, Mr. M-Munson. We just… just left him there!” Dustin breaks down crying and Wayne reaches out to him, an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. If Wayne sheds a few tears, too, well. Who can blame him?

“Doctor Owens, a word,” Wayne pulls the man aside after the kids have gone to bed. “Dustin said… my boy is just yards away from our trailer. He didn’t even get out of the park. I understand it’s an all hands on deck situation, but can anyone be spared? Can anyone bring my boy back? I’ll go myself if I have to.”

Doctor Owens, a genuinely kind man, Wayne can tell, has tears filling his eyes just at the request. “Mr. Munson, we will do everything in our power to bring your boy home.”

-

Doctor Owens pays for the headstone. Said it was the least he could do since his team failed. Wayne tries not to be bitter about it.

The graffiti starts up almost immediately. Wayne doesn’t understand why.

-

He thinks he’s caught someone in the act, grabs roughly at the perpetrator and yanks. The Harrington boy stumbles up and back, a little bit of fear in his eyes but no paint in hand. He’s holding a rag and small container of paint thinner. A quick look between Harrington and the grave, he can see the half-cleaned headstone.

He’s never spoken much with Harrington, but Dustin has nothing bad to say.

“You know my boy?” because he can’t bring himself to say ‘knew’ just yet.

Harrington looks just about as haunted as Wayne feels when he says, so quietly, “Not as well as I would have liked, sir.”

-

Wayne is observant, but even he can admit it takes longer than he thought to figure out Steve Harrington. That boy had put himself between those kids and danger again, and again, and again, and lived. Eddie did it once and… well, Wayne reckons Steve thinks it should have been him. He won’t say so out loud, but Wayne sees a lot of his younger self in Steve, knows him in much the same way he knows himself.

Steve lives with a guilt he shouldn’t; this was Eddie’s choice. His reckless, dangerous, courageous choice. And they’ve got to learn to live with it. Steve’s parents are absent, and Wayne’s nephew is gone. Without any conscious decision about it, they’ve adopted each other.

Steve wants to know everything about Eddie. Every little story Wayne can come up with. And he, well, he loves that someone wants to know. Wants to remember Eddie with him.

“Bad news. I regret not knowing him sooner,” Steve confesses to him one day as they scrub the headstone clean again.

“Good news. You know him now,” Wayne replies.

“Do I?”

Wayne can’t answer that. Not honestly one way or another. How well can you know someone from secondhand information? Steve spent a total of five days in his nephew’s company but he helps keep his memory alive. “I don’t know. What I do know is that Eddie Munson won’t be forgotten when I die. And that matters.”

-

He gets in an accident at the plant. He doesn’t remember what happened, not fully, but he knows that Steve never left his side. Demanded his come stay in his big empty house. Easier to move around in, with all the open space.

Wayne wasn’t really attached to his apartment anyway. If he was going to live the rest of his life in a home that had never known Eddie’s presence, it could at least be with someone who had known Eddie’s presence, however briefly.

-

Wayne wonders if he’s done the right thing sometimes. Indulging Steve’s need to know Eddie. At first, he thought it was fine, because learning about Eddie seemed to alleviate Steve’s guilt. But now.

He’s watching the boy fall in love with a ghost.

Helping it happen, even.

Robin and Steve aren’t nearly as quiet or subtle as they think, and Wayne’s observant. They seem to forget that Wayne’s just old, and not deaf and blind.

Or maybe, they’re comfortable enough that they don’t truly hide from him.

And it hurts his heart to think this (because he’s thinking it about his Eddie, wonderful, loving Eddie) but Steve deserves to love more than a ghost.

-

And then the kids graduate. Start to go to college. Steve acts fine, but he’s not. Wayne knows. It’s like he’s losing his purpose, but Wayne’s just as broken. Not strong enough to push Steve away. To make Steve go, too.

Honestly, he’s a little afraid that if he tried, then Steve would follow right after Eddie.

So, he doesn't. He decides he needs Steve, and perhaps even more so, Steve needs him.

-

Then, five years after Eddie’s death, the call happens. It’s about his piece of shit little brother, Wyatt. He’s gotta go, though. Because this is one last strand of Eddie. Eddie’s mother has been gone longer than Eddie, and fuck, Wyatt deserves to know. Wayne doesn’t claim to be a saint; if his brother wasn’t being released, he’d probably never tell him. He’d let him die in that prison believing his son is alive.

He doesn’t even know if Wyatt will care that Eddie’s gone. But he’s got to find out.

Steve drives him to the airport and no matter how many times Wayne says he’s coming back, Steve doesn’t seem to believe him.

-

But it’s not his shitty little brother waiting to greet him in Tennessee. It’s Eleven.

“Sorry for the lie, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I learned but Doctor Owens said that, this one time, we needed to be right before we could be honest.”

It’s Eddie. It’s Eddie Wyatt Munson, who looks at him shyly, almost as if afraid, from the apartment doorway Eleven takes him to. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

It’s five fucking years too late but he pulls Eddie in a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

-

Wayne learns.

They had found him, barely alive. It was better, they said, to take him away. Let the town cool down while Eddie healed, but he was catatonic for the better part of these last five years.

“Eddie woke up empty,” Eleven says softly, apropos nothing sitting next to Wayne as they watch Eddie discuss next steps with Owens. “He could be told to do things. Drink this. Eat that. His eyes never focused on anything. Doctor Owens called him a shell. I asked what that means. He said that Eddie’s body worked, but his mind did not because Eddie was not in his own mind anymore. But I knew he was in there. I had to get him back.” She reaches a hand out, waving in the general direction of Eddie’s head.

This surprises Wayne. “You brought him back?”

“Memory by memory,” Eleven says, picking at her pants leg. “Even the painful ones. Doctor Owens says every memory shapes who we are, even tough ones.”

Wayne looks at Eleven, a young woman of nineteen now, but remembers how scared and brave she’d been at fourteen.  “Words cannot express how thankful I am for you.”

“I did it for you. And maybe a little bit for me.”

Wayne makes a humming noise. Not truly questioning, but an acknowledgment of what she said. If she wants to share her reasons, he won’t stop her. He’s just not going to pry.

“I chose my friend. I chose Max.”

He knows. “You made the right choice.”

“I know. I am not guilty about it,” she frowns as she thinks about her words. “But Dustin is my friend, too, and I knew Eddie was his friend. But I cared more about Max. I had to do all I could to make it right. For you. For Dustin. For me.”

Wayne doesn’t have words, so he just pulls Eleven into a hug. It must convey all he needs because when she pulls back, she beams at him.

-

Wayne fills Eddie in on what has happened as best he can. It’s such a jarring difference, speaking to Eddie about Steve than it had been speaking to Steve about Eddie. Eddie just looks confused for most of it and doesn’t really ask followup questions, but Wayne understands. Eddie had known Steve for five days and he’s got time to really get to know Steve now. Steve thought all he’d ever have of Eddie is someone else’s memories.

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie breaths out, all wonder and awe and- Well, maybe Wayne isn’t as observant as he had always thought. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie stutters over his words, eyes wide and wild. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles and lies, as if he hadn’t just watched all the pieces slot together in this moment.

“So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington?” Eddie is blushing but he blows past Wayne’s question. “Will he… be okay with me being there?”

Steve’s been loving a ghost, is what Wayne thinks. Steve’s been in love with a ghost and this. This is a ghost story that can have a better ending. But he’s not going to make those declarations for Steve, so what he says is, “yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all.”

Eddie smiles to himself, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind.

If he hadn’t just figured it out two minutes ago, that would have been a dead giveaway that his boy might be a little bit in love with Steve.

-

He calls Steve. Tells him he’s coming home and bringing a guest. Steve says that’s fine, he’ll fix up Robin’s old room into a guest room.

-

“This isn’t the way to the Harrington house,” Eddie observes from the passenger seat of the rental car Doctor Owens had paid for, to get them from Indianapolis back to Hawkins.

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed.”

“The cemetery?”

Wayne shrugs, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once. Ah. See, there he is.” Wayne points and Eddie’s eyes follow.

Something akin to wonder passes over Eddie’s face and he all but falls out of the car before it’s even stopped.

Wayne thinks he’ll give them five or so minutes before following.

[kyokutsu-sama]

"Take care of me in the middle of the night"

A/n: A fluff scenario for this man because I need to read more about his soft side😭🥺

I will write more of this type for him because I believe in the supremacy of big men with soft hearts🛐❤️

Tw: Mentions of alcohol and nudity (but no nsfw)

_____________________________

"Just look at you!!!" Jack left the bar, staggering and laughing, along with his friend and rival, Yami. "You're too drunk and you've lost all your money and clothes.”

"What about you? You're talking about me when you're worse than me, you beanpole!!" Yami pointed out to his friend who was equally naked and drunk.

"I'm sure Y/n will put you on the couch tonight, she won't like knowing that you arrived late and in this condition"

"What are you saying? My dear Y/n loves me and she wouldn't do that.” Yami frowned

"No? You're quite convinced!!"

"And you're jealous because you're single but well, who would fall in love with an asshole like you?" Yami laughed loudly at the other captain

"What? Know that I don't have trouble finding someone. I'm just oblivious to it."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to pretend I believe it," Yami tried to light a cigarette but the lighter wasn't giving off any light. "Damn, why doesn't this shit light up?!!" He grumbled, giving a sigh of frustration.

He kept the lighter, keeping the cigarette at the corner of his lips as he walked back to the black bulls' HQ, leaning on Jack.

You were sitting in the armchair where he usually sat, while you waited for him to arrive from another one of his nights out. You heard voices outside and laughter and assumed it was him.

"Damn, don't you know how to open a door properly?!" Jack said after Yami kicked the front door and entered

You got up and stood with your arms crossed, looking at your completely naked and drunk husband and his friend who was also naked, but only covered with the cloak.

"Oh, you are there, my beautiful wife!!"Yami went to you even after seeing your serious look and hugged you for a moment. You gave a long sigh seeing all that joy, he was quite drunk. “I missed you so much, baby.”He said, taking the cigarette out of his lips and distributing a ton of kisses all over your face

"Tch, look at her serious face!! I don't think these kisses are working on her, looks like you messed up, Captain Yami!"Jack laughed and you approached him, making him shut up for a moment

"Captain Jack, I thank you for bringing my husband home after a night of drinking. Now, get out!" You ordered

"It looks like I wasn't the only one who messed up..." Yami smiled at his friend and the other chuckled

"Fine, I'll be on my way. Have a good night, you drunkard!!"Jack looked at his friend and then at you, before leaving

As soon as the other captain left, you turned to face Yami and he gave you a playful smile. You can't help but smile when you see the unlit cigarette on his lips, he was probably so drunk that he didn't even care about it.

"Where have you been, Yami?" You asked, changing your expression to something softer now, taking the cigarette from his lips and put it aside

"I uhm...I've been drinking a few drinks but there were only a few, believe me!" He tried to hide it but seeing how he was stinking of alcohol, there weren't a few

“A few you, you say…”

"What about our boys? Where are they?" He asked, whispering in your ear and leaving a small trail of kisses from your neck to your shoulder

"They're sleeping, after drinking too much again." You said holding onto his forearms while pulling him away from you

"My brats are looking more and more like me" He chuckled

"Where are your clothes at?" You looked at his naked body

"I...I lost them in a gamble."He scratched the back of his head and you shook your head, smiling

"Again?"

"Yes, again."

"Come on, let's go to bed." You extended your hand to him and he gave you a mischievous smile

“And why don’t you take off your clothes too? That way, we wouldn't waste any more time, princess." He laughed smugly, trying to hug you but you slapped his chest and walked away from him."Sheesh! You're cold, babe!"He pouted and you smiled

"And you're being cheeky when I'm just trying to help you."

"Cheeky? I've never heard you complain about me being cheeky." He replied and you rolled your eyes. "Now, where is the damn bathroom again?" He said looking around, so drunk that he didn't even recognize his own HQ

"You're going to take a shit, aren't you?" You looked at him with a chuckle

"No, I just drank too much beer and now I need to take a big piss."He said

"I'll take you there, then." You held his hand and took him there

The walk from the living room to the bathroom seemed longer than usual, due to the way he stumbled with every step and also because of his dirty talk and his playful teasing to you. Nothing you weren't already used to. You just smiled at him and little did you know that it was that smile that motivated him to do even worse.

When you finally got to the bathroom, you opened the door for him and he went in so he could take the big piss he was talking about.

You were leaning against the wall waiting for the captain to come out, he opened the door and looked at you.

"You finished?" You asked

"Yeah, the biggest piss I've ever taken," He stretched, then yawned. "I really wanted to take a nap right now."

"It's been a long night already…" You caressed his arm and he nodded. "Let's get some sleep."

When you entered the bedroom, he threw himself on the bed and sighed heavily against the pillow. You approached the bed and sat down, staying next to him.

"I miss you so much.” He murmured as he lay down on his back on the mattress

"You had already said that before, you know?" You smiled

"I was talking about the bed."He said and you closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a certain embarrassment

"Yeah...the bed." You looked away

"I missed you too, don't be sad."He noticed your expression and smiled."Come here, my love."He pulled you to his chest and you hugged him

The captain placed a kiss on the top of your head while his hands caressed your back, he couldn't be more relaxed than he was at that moment.

"Thank you for taking care of me in the middle of the night. You are a wonderful wife."He whispered before closing his eyes to sleep

You looked at him, seeing him, with his eyes closed and guessed that he might already be falling asleep. This man slept like a log in a matter of seconds.

You leaned over a little and gave him a little kiss that he didn't even feel.

"I love you, idiot." You whispered

[babydollmarauders]

SAY DON’T GO — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is in love with her fwb but he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings

warnings: slightly nsfw scenes (?), angst, betrayal

notes: based on ‘Say Don’t Go’ by Taylor Swift. i feel like this is a lot less angsty than i had originally wanted it to be, but i basically just wrote this to try and get over writers block, so it’s probably shitty but it’s at least something.

*not my gif*

“fuck.”

his one word is stuttered out in a shaky breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady under my lingering touch.

the faint aching of my legs is nothing compared to the overwhelming dread that settles in my chest, awaiting my impending dismissal.

i climb off of him, a hiss leaving my lips at the sensitivity of him sliding out of me, and drape myself beside him instead. my eyelids flutter, exhaustion creeping up on me as his arms encircle my waist.

these are the worst parts. these are the parts that ruined me. these are the parts that threw me into the inevitable mess of love that drags me through each of our nights together.

“do you need anything?” his lips press against my neck, his hands sprawling across the small of my back, pulling me deeper against him. “a water? a snack? do you want me to clean you up?”

at the shake of my head, he cuddles deeper into me, my hands raising to thread into the mess of curls atop of his head as he continues to kiss down my neck.

after a few moments, he stops, pulling away to lay beside me.

the silence is killer, only filled by our slow breaths and the occasional brush of his fingers against my bare stomach.

“well, i guess i should get going.”

i roll over, rising from the bed as i speak, my volume barely that of a whisper. i peel my discarded clothes from the floor, my breath held in my throat, yearning that tonight might be the night he disagrees. that tonight he’ll tell me not to go; to stay with him.

“yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Jack should be home soon.” his breathlessly spoken words are like a knife to my heart, pushed deeper and deeper by his nonchalance.

gone are the days that he walked me to my apartment; replaced now by an idle wave and his eyes following me out of his bedroom door.

“bye, Luke.”

i stand in the doorway, my clothing messily adorned and my hair pulled into a quick and sloppy bun on my head. it doesn’t take a mirror for me to know that my makeup is smudged, black mascara surely circling my eyes.

the door is half closed, but i linger just a little longer, holding out hope for him to say ‘don’t go.’ for him to tell me to stay; but he doesn’t, and i don’t.

“bye, y/n.” he waves me off, his focus turning to the tv in his bedroom. “see you soon, yeah?”

my head falls, looking down at my light blue toenails; his favorite color. there he went, twisting the knife.

“yeah, see ya.”

i’m slipping my sandals back on my feet by the front door when Jack walks in, stopping in his tracks at my presence.

his eyes scan my disheveled appearance, his smile dropping.

“hey, y/n/n.” Dawson enters the apartment behind him, bumping him out of the way and taking his turn to study my figure. “you okay? you look sad.”

ever the subtle man; Jack is.

“yeah, i’m fine.” i plaster on a watery smile, attempting to round him in order to leave, but his hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me back.

“you sure?” Jack questions, his eyes full of pity. “i didn’t know you were coming over tonight. wanna watch a game with Merc and i?”

i just need to be alone.

“thanks for the offer, but i’m just gonna go back to my apartment. i’m not feeling well.”

“okay, well if you change your mind, just let yourself in.” i nod at his statement and he finally lets his hand drop, giving me the freedom i need in order to slip out the still open door.

i don’t think i can get away fast enough; nearly tripping over my feet to get down the hall and back to my own apartment.

it isn’t until i’m safe and secure inside my own place, my back pressed against my door, that i finally let my emotions out with a guttural sob.

i didn’t think it would turn into this.

when Luke moved in with his brother down the hall, i was just excited to have someone my exact age. someone else who had gone to college, so we could talk about our experiences together.

that acquaintanceship quickly blossomed into a proper friendship, one that meant the world to me. albeit, it had some tension of a foreign variety, i loved it.

then one drunken night turned into a hookup, which turned into two, until Luke proposed a friends-with-benefits situation.

i’ve never been the casual hookup girl, but i really like Luke. it was a shot in the darkest dark, but i thought maybe, if i agreed, we could turn into something more.

but now we’re eight months in and i’m fading into madness, waiting for him to turn us into something more. it’s slowly developed into sadness. more hurt coming from this arrangement than love.

***

Luke drapes a blanket over top of me, head-to-toe, and although i roll my eyes, a smile breaks out across my lips.

“i’m calling it. time of death-” he cuts himself off and i can hear footsteps entering his living room before he’s stage-whispering. “Jack, what time is it?”

“uhh.” Jack drags out, and in my head i can picture him checking his phone. “9:06pm”

“9:06pm.” Luke repeats in confidence, finally finishing his previous sentence. “may y/n rest in peace. loving best friend, caring soul, and horrible baker.”

“hey!” i pull the blanket off my face, glaring up at my friend as i lift my head. “last week, you said my cookies were good!”

“shhh.” he pushes his fingers against my forehead, shoving my head back down onto the cushion of the couch. “you’re dead and i lied.”

“do i even wanna know what i walked into?” Jack asks from his spot at the other side of the living room.

“y/n is dead, may her soul rest easy now.” Luke’s faux solemn tone sends me into a fit of giggles, earning myself a snapped playful glare and a shush from him.

“yeah, i’ve gathered that.” Jack’s eyebrows furrow, his eyes flicking between his brother and i. “how did she die?”

“a broken heart.” i half joke as Luke simultaneously states ‘the plague.’

“and how did she get the plague?” Jack feeds into his younger siblings joke while throwing me a concerned glance.

“she kissed a rat.” my friend determines.

“i did not!” i gasp, “i’ve only kissed one thing in the past eight months!”

Luke gapes at me, and i realize where i’ve gone wrong.

we never determined we were exclusive. he must assume i’ve been dating or seeing other people during our arrangement.

does this mean he has?

my heart twists in my chest at the thought and i have to swallow down rising bile at the image that plays in my mind of him with another girl.

oh Luke, why’d you have to make me love you?

“my cat.” i lie in attempt to cover my tracks, and it appears to work for the most part, as Luke’s expression goes back to his casual dry humored look.

“well, then, that settles it.” he nods his head in determination and Jack chuckles.

“i’m gonna need clarification.” i mutter and Luke takes the moment to sit on top of me on the couch, his weight sinking down on my thighs.

“Yoda kissed the rat and then you kissed Yoda.” he replies and my head falls back against the couch cushions, my abdomen beginning to cramp as i laugh.

“nobody kissed a rat!”

***

“shit, Luke— i love you.” it slips past my lips like a fallen prayer; spewing out in a whimper amongst my blissed haze.

my eyes widen, my hips faltering in their pace to meet Luke’s, the currents of pleasure that wrack my body taking a back seat in my mind.

i study his face; the sweat that beads at his hairline as he thrusts into me, his rhythm never faltering; the scrunched eyes and thrown back head that doesn’t move even after my words.

i can’t decide if he didn’t hear my sex-drunk word vomit, or if he’s deliberately ignoring it; but i figure it’s the latter when his hand on my breast loosens, and he rips it back like i’m too hot to touch.

he heard me.

i said ‘i love you.’

he said nothing back.

suddenly, my lust is gone, and in great timing because it’s at that moment that Luke finishes, pulling out and falling down onto the mattress beside me.

it’s quiet for awhile, neither of us speaking as we catch our breath. his hand sprawls against my bare hip, pulling me closer to him in the darkness of my room.

“did you finish?” he whispers, and i don’t have the heart to tell him that my mood was dampened, so i nod.

“mhm.” i hum and he presses a kiss to my nose.

“you didn’t like, mean what you said, did you?”

another twist of the metaphorical knife that he jabbed into my heart long ago.

“i don’t know, what did i say?” i play dumb, as though i don’t remember the confession that played from my lips just moments ago.

his nose scrunches as he speaks, “that you, like, love me.”

“oh- no. i don’t even remember saying it.” i whisper back, and suddenly i’m grateful for the near pitch black of the room, hoping it masks the glistening tears that spring to my eyes.

“i must’ve said it in the heat of the moment.” i add and he nods.

“cool.”

cool.

he thinks it’s ‘cool’ if i don’t love him.

he cuddles into me, his head resting on my chest, and i’m thankful that we’re at my house, because rather than continue these whispers in the dark, i can force myself to fall asleep.

closing my eyes, tears leak from the corners, dripping down into my hairline.

why’d he have to make me want him so bad?

i focus on the grounding feeling of the weight of his head on my chest until i slip into dreams.

when i awake, it’s still dark out, and my alarm clock reads 3:27am in bold red lighting. but Luke is nowhere to be found.

i’ve been asleep for merely two hours and he’s already left me; gone back to his own apartment.

i don’t bother putting on clothes, rather pulling my blanket up to my chin and curling up on my side.

sobs wrack my body, finally able to let out the painful emotions that i held in while Luke was here.

i’m so sick of him leaving me.

***

my knock echoes through the apartment, but i wonder if it was even heard.

Luke had texted me to come over, but i’ve knocked twice now with no response, and i’m ready to give up when the door finally swings open.

i yelp in shock, jumping back in fright at the rapidly opened door. when i step inside the apartment, Luke is standing behind the door, still dressed in his game day suit, his tie long forgotten now though.

“oh, hey.” i sigh in relief, “i was about to leave, ya know? you took forever.”

i stop in the entry hall, turning back to look at him, and he kicks the door shut, stalking towards me.

“you took forever to get here.” his words are followed by the crash of his lips upon mine, time slowing to a stop as he pulls me deeper into the kiss.

i’m his.

his hands come down to the backs of my thighs, pulling one of my legs to hook around his waist, and on instinct, i jump up with the other. my legs wrap around him as he walks us backwards to his couch, his lips trailing away from mine and instead placing open mouthed kisses down my jawline and onto my neck.

“Luke.” i whimper, my hips grinding down onto his and making him groan.

“shhh.” he hushes me, taking a seat on the couch and leaving me straddling his lap. “i had a really bad game. i need you right now.”

a spark of anger and sadness ignites inside me at his words.

he’s with me because of his game.

not because of me.

i need you right now.

he doesn’t need me.

he needs a release.

something to channel his anger into.

i push him away, detaching him from the pulse point of my neck as i do so. his lips chase after mine and i lean back with a heavy sigh.

“stop.” i whimper and he looks up at me with wide eyes and an alarmed expression.

“did i do something?” he wonders aloud, his hands rubbing comfortingly up and down my thighs.

“i can’t do this.” i smack his hands away, rising to my feet to create distance between us.

“can’t do what, y/n?” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “i’m confused.”

“this!” i cry out, pointing wildly between us.

understanding settles over him, and i can tell just from the way his shoulders slump.

oh my god.

my heart sinks, my stomach twisting in knots as i shake my head, tears gathering in my eyes.

“you know.” i spit out, disgust filling my body.

disgust for him, for acting oblivious. and disgust for myself, for being oblivious.

“i know.” he confirms my suspicions, nodding slowly.

“you lead me on.” i tell him, overwhelmingly shocked at how calm it comes out. “you know how i feel. you know i love you; and yet you kept this going.”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i-”

“when?” my voice breaks, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“in October.”

four months.

he’s known i’m in love with him for four months.

yet, he continued to lead me on. to keep this arrangement going, despite how much he knows it hurts me.

“oh my god.” my knees feel weak, my body sick. “you knew the other week. when i told you i loved you, you knew i meant it!”

he gives a weak nod, slinking back into the couch cushions.

“why would you do this, Luke?”

he looks back at me, his eyes peering into mine; and i think the worst part is that i see no real remorse.

“i don’t know.” he shrugs, and out of every possible answer, i think that’s the worst one he could’ve given.

“i gave you all of me and you gave me nothing!” i feel like i could be sick.

my best friend.

the person i thought would never intentionally hurt me.

“i can barely look at you.” i mutter dejectedly, ripping my eyes away from his in order to pace to the front door. “i never wanna see you again.”

halfway out the door, i stop, peeking back to find him staring at the wall in front of him, before i continue my journey out.

my hand clasps over my mouth, in attempt to hold in my cries until i get to my own apartment, and when i finally arrive, i spare no effort.

as though i was physically weak, my body crumples to the floor as soon as i close my door. my knees hit against the hardwood, but i’m numb to everything around me; my emotional pain far outweighing any physical.

i feel betrayed and used. my heart ripped out from my chest and stomped into the ground as though it means nothing to him.

but amongst it all, i’m most mad at myself. because despite what Luke did, i still held out hope for him call out to me as i left. to say ‘don’t go.’ to ask me to stay.

but he didn’t. and he never will.

[holylulusworld]

Fulfillment - Flufftober 19

Summary: Dean finally lives the life he deserves and dreamed of.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Side pairing: Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, overprotective Dean, implied smut, cuddling & snuggling, Dean is a horny dog, a hint of dirty talk and dirty fantasy

Rating: Teen

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

Trope: Pregnancy

@warmandfluffybingocards: Square 16: Breakfast in bed   

@anyfandomgoesbingo: Square 7: Decorating the nursery

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Your last battle was the day Dean told you he loves you. He didn’t want to waste another moment without having you in his arms.

Chuck, or God if you want to call that jackass so, fell without glory.

Jack went to heaven, and Castiel accompanied him to make sure no one tried to abuse the young man’s powers ever again.

Since that day, you have been living a normal life.

While everyone else dreams of a more exciting life, you are happy to have a normal and boring life.

While you turned your back on the hunter’s life, you turned the bunker into a warm and cozy home. (We don’t talk about the room where Dean stored all the weapons.)

Only because you stopped hunting doesn’t mean Dean doesn’t act like an overprotective bodyguard when it comes to you. You’re his wife, the future mother of his children, and the reason to keep on going for him.

“Sweetheart,” Dean pokes his head inside the kitchen. “No…no!” He tuts. “I told you; I’m going to make breakfast.” Your husband watches you run one hand over your grown belly while stuffing a pickle into your mouth.

“I’m having cravings,” you chew audibly while your husband makes a fuss. He doesn’t want you to leave your bedroom or the bed. If it was up to Dean, he’d wrap you in a dozen blankets and never let you leave the bed again. “And no one is going to attack us here.”

“You don’t know that” your husband argues. He steps inside the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, making you groan. “I need to keep you safe and happy.”

“Last night you made me very happy.”

Dean snickers as he remembers the way you were writhing on his cock.

“I remember you were a begging mess, Y/N. Loud and naughty. Just the way I like you.”

“Dean, we can’t make out in the kitchen again. Sammy will kill us,” you whine as your husband kisses down your neck. “I mean it, baby. We can’t get caught again.”

“But getting caught is half the fun,” Dean laughs in your neck, making you giggle. “Alright. If you are a good girl and go to our bedroom to lie down, I’ll make you the best breakfast you ever ate. I promise it’s not my dick.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Mr. Winchester. You’re a very naughty man,” you chuckle as he whispers dirty nothings in your ear. “If you don’t want to end up getting caught by your brother and Eileen, we better go back to our bedroom.”

“Sex before breakfast. I knew you were the one…” He hums in your neck. “But after you’ll eat all the delicious things I’ll cook for you…”

“A red rose, and food, huh,” Sam watches his brother carry a tray filled with breakfast and a single red rose out of the kitchen. “Did you leave some food for us?”

“Sure, Sammy,” Dean grins. “My wife needs the food. I wore her out.”

Sam shakes his head. Sometimes his brother has no shame…or like ever. “Luckily she’s already pregnant or you’d get her pregnant.”

“Who says I won’t get her pregnant again?” Dean chuckles. “We are having twins. Next time, I’ll fill her with triplets.”

“What do you say? Will she like it?” Dean shows his brother and Eileen the U-shaped pregnancy pillow he got for you. He has it draped over his shoulder to show it to Sam. “It’s good for the babies and her, right?”

Eileen smirks as her brother-in-law excitedly tells them about all the things he bought for you and the babies.

“It’s nice of you to get the pillow,” she finally says. Dean looks adorable with all the stuffies tugged under his arm. “What do you want to do with the rest?” She questions.

“While Y/N is having a nap, I’m going to decorate the nursery. We are almost done, but she’s a little under the weather this week. I’ll finish it and show her everything when she feels better.”

“Do you need help?” Sam offers willingly. “We are going finish the nursery faster if we work together.”

“Are you sure, Sammy?”

Sam flashes his brother a smile. “Well, I’m counting on your help when we are having triplets…”

“I love the pillow,” Dean states as you and your husband lie on the bed, the pregnancy pillow wrapped around your bodies. “They were right. It’s perfect for snuggling and cuddling.”

You grin as Dean moves impossibly closer to hide his face in your neck. “I heard you finished the nursery.”

“Sammy and Eileen helped. If there’s something you do not like, blame Sammy.”

“I know that I’ll love it,” you mumble sleepily. “Just like I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart, and the little beans,” he whispers in your ear while moving one hand to your belly. “I’ll always protect you and our babies. Always.”

Tags in reblog.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Five - Dark truths

You didn't sleep at all that night. You didn't leave the house all day either. You didn't even answer the door when Amelie and Jack came over to see how you were.

They knew Noah was missing. They didn't know he was dead.

When Friday came around and no one had seen you, Jack came to the house again. He pleaded with you to come and tell him what had happened. He asked where Noah was, but you didn't answer him. You didn't come out at all.

That night the show went on without you.

Lestat had been sitting in his box waiting for you to come on, but when the piano never got wheeled onto the stage, he knew he had messed up. Revealing to you what he was like that had not been what he wanted. He should have been more careful, but Noah was angering him. That meaningless man ruined your performance.

Lestat couldn't take it any more. With Noah gone you would be able to shine. Lestat would have done things differently. You were different.

The vampire didn't stick around to watch the end of the show. Your usual slot came and went and he knew you weren't going to perform tonight.

He went to your home.

I'm outside, Chéri.

Nothing.

Please let me in.

Lestat knew you were inside and he longed to see you. He wanted to hear your voice and see your face. He wanted to reach out and hold you to him. He wanted to explain things properly.

You refused to come outside.

His voice was in your head and it was pricing you crazy. How can his voice be in your head like that? Was he really a monster or were you too freaked out and messed up to comprehend anything?

You were afraid.

I know you can hear me. You have no reason to fear me. Harming you is the last thing I could ever want.

You don't believe him. He knows it too.

Lestat looks up at your window with longing. He yearns for you. He needs you. He wants you.

Please. 

The door opens. Lestat finds himself looking at you. You're a disheveled mess and he can see the fear in your eyes. He doesn't move.

“I am sorry you found out the way you did.”

“What do you mean…?” You ask cautiously.

“Me being a vampire.”

You shake your head quickly. “Vampires aren't real.”

“Oh, but we are.” He smiles at you.

You stare at him in disbelief. Was this man crazy? Oh no… you had been to his house! The house of a crazy person!

Lestat can hear your internal struggle and shakes his head. He steps a little closer. “Listen, Chéri, I am real. I am here. I want you.”

“Why? Why me?” You want to hide back inside your house, but you also want answers.

“You are… everything.”

You don't know what he means by that. Nothing is making sense to you. You can't help feeling like he's dangerous.

“I am dangerous.”

“Stop doing that! Stop… reading my mind!”

Lestat chuckles softly. “From the moment I first heard you play I knew I had to have you. You, Chéri, are everything and more. Talent like yours is hard to find in this world. It also helps you're the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon… Well, second to myself.” He winks at you.

He's trying to calm you down. You can tell he's telling the truth. Though you're not sure how much you can trust him.

“Do you not want a taste? To walk alongside the unknown?” He is feeding into your curiosity, luring you in. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. “How do I know you won't just kill me like you did to Noah?”

“That useless man had it coming. He was abusing your talents with his awful voice. He wanted to use you for his own gain in the hope of using your popularity at the theater to get famous. Well, anyone who truly approaches music would know he had no talent whatsoever.” Lestat scoffs.

“He really is dead…?”

“Oui.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Oh God. Oh God! What do I tell Jack?” You pull at your hair.

“Tell him nothing,” Lestat says, coming a little closer to your door. “Noah has left the country as far as anyone is concerned. He had no relatives here, no actual influence on anyone. He's gone. Let me help you soar.”

You look into his eyes. He's looking at you tenderly. You want to believe he's being genuine, but is he?

“I wrote you a song…” Is what you say.

Lestat stares at you in mild confusion and surprise. “You wrote me a song?”

“I did… I was inspired after my visit to your home… and I couldn't shake you from my head.”

He grins. “Is that so?”

You nod. “You… You're like a headache I can't shift. Even when I put you out of my mind, you return later. Your name is always on the end of my tongue. I look for you every Friday night in your box. I sit at my piano and I hope with all my might that my music is enough for you. Why do I care so much about what you think?”

Lestat smiles. “Perhaps because you know I appreciate your art.”

You look at him in wonder. “Is that the case? Or are you just saying that to make me trust you?”

He sighs. “You're making this very difficult.”

“You killed Noah!” You say a little too loudly.

Lestat covers your mouth with his hand. You groan and bite his fingers. He removes his hand and grins. “If you're into biting, I can help.”

You worry if you roll your eyes too hard they'll fall out the sockets. “I need time…”

Lestat lifts his chin up a little bit. “Very well. Time.” He steps away from your door. “But please don't take too long.” He walks away.

Once he's out of sight you close your door and lean against it.

The next Friday you return to the theater and try to ignore the stares from other performers. However, Amelie and Jack could not be ignored. You would have to face them, which was why you had come up with a story. A lie. Lying to the two people who looked after you all these years felt so wrong, but telling the truth would be worse.

They cornered you in your dressing room. Jack had a whole speech for you, telling you he was so worried and he didn't know if he needed ro contact a doctor for you. You let him speak before deciding to tell them the story you had come up with.

“Noah is gone. He left. We had a huge fight and it got out of control.”

“Did he hurt you?” Amelie asks, coming to sit beside you.

“No. Not physically anyway. Just my pride,” you assure her. There was some truth to that at least.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Jack asks, looking at you like a wounded puppy.

“It was my mess. I didn't want everyone to get involved. Noah was using me for his own advantage and I had had enough. I play solo, Jack. No more duets.” You look at him firmly.

“Understood.”

“I was so worried about you! You wouldn't even answer the door…” Amelie looks at you sadly.

“I'm sorry… I just had a lot to deal with.” You give her a hug.

Jack sighs and looks at you fondly. “I should have been more firm with him. Your sponsor hasn't made a donation since…”

“No. I suppose he hasn't. Is my slot still open?” You ask.

“Of course it is!” He assures you.

You smile. “Then I'll be back to playing for you. Tonight too soon?”

“Not at all.”

With all that out of the way the two leave you alone to get ready. You sigh deeply and prepare to face the music once more.

Lestat didn't appear in his box that night. Nor the Friday after, or the one after that. In fact, for the next 2 months he did not appear inside the theater. He did, however, send donations to Jack. He stopped sending gifts to your dressing room too.

Still, you couldn't shake him from your brain.

As you went into month 3 without seeing him or hearing from him, you had begun to miss him. If Lestat had wanted to harm you, surely he would have done so by now. He has plenty of chances to.

You decided to write him a small letter. You had it delivered to his house, not feeling brave enough to go there yourself.

You had chosen to forgive him.

Come to the theater Friday night. Your box is waiting for you.

It was all you could think to do to get him to return to you. As you stood off to the side of the stage waiting for your turn, you felt terribly nervous. You almost felt like you were struggling to breathe. You had sent Amelie out to check the boxes. She seemed to be taking her time.

You had moments to go before it was your turn. Amelie appeared beside you. “What took you so long?”

“Mr De Lioncourt invited me to talk to him. He asked me to give you this.” She holds up the rose. You stare at it, mesmerized by the deep red color of its petals. You take it from her gently.

“This is for me?”

She nods. “He told me he was happy you had asked him to come back. Did you two fight too?”

“Sort of…” You reply softly, still looking at the rose.

“Well, he's glad to hear you perform again.”

“Good. Tonight is going to be special.”

Amelie wasn't sure why it would be special, but she was just happy to see you back where you belong.

Your name is called. You take a deep breath and walk out onto the stage, rose in hand. You lift your head up, but ignore the audience. Your eyes drift up to his box. Lestat is sitting there, smiling at you.

You're wearing the necklace he gave you months ago. You're clutching the rose in your hand. You're looking at him.

Lestat knows you've forgiven him.

You take a seat at your piano and place the rose down where normally the music sheets would go, but you don't need them. You're only going to play one song tonight.

His song.

You begin. Lestat's ears are blessed with a melody new to him. An arrangement he has never heard before. He doesn't need to read your mind to know this is the song you wrote for him.

He's completely enamored with you.

There's a depth to your song. Without words he can understand what you're trying to say. He knows why you wrote this piece.

You felt something that night.

Perhaps the same thing he felt for you.

He wouldn't deny it.

The music ends too soon for his liking. He watches you with keen eyes as you take a bow and exit the stage. He didn't want your music to end. Lestat rose from his seat and left the box. He had to see you.

Jack wanted to question why you only played one song, but you didn't give him time to even get the question out. You went to your dressing room and waited.

The door opened moments later. You stood from your dressing table and watched Lestat approach you. He closed the door behind him, keeping out the outside world.

“That song…” He started. “Was it for me?”

“Yes. Did you like it?”

Lestat smiled as he slowly closed the distance between you both. You felt like your breathing was too loud, that he could probably hear your heart beating too.

I can.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” He asks, grinning.

“Get in my head.”

He chuckles. “It's one of the many things I can show you.” He holds out his hand to you. It's an invitation into his life. An invitation into the night.

You take his hand.

Lestat smiles and pulls you in close. “do you trust me?”

“We'll see.”

For now, that's enough for him.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[jaded-jezz]

Your American.

My first Formula One Driver story!

Obviously had to do Logan as he is my favourite. And I want to pretend that he is going to be here next year! (James better watch out).

Please do not repost, reblogs are appreciated.

Logan Sargeant X F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (mdni 18+), kinda sub Logan I guess, annoying coworker at start, timeskip, 2.3k words. First time writing smut so don’t tell me if it’s bad!

Leah please don’t read this

Logan’s been away from you for this amount of time before but he’s not normally this clingy when he comes back. His hand has been either linked with yours or on your hip the entire night. He only let go when you had to make a speech thanking your company for another successful year.

You are finally making your way out of the ceremony hall after many awards, speeches and long goodbyes. The music from the dance floor had slowly started to drown out due to the distance you had walked and the whispers from Logan in your ear.

“Hey Y/N, I missed you all night!” Jack, your colleague shouts. You and Logan sigh in sync. Jack is that guy at work who nobody likes yet he seems to think he’s the company favourite. Since the day you started your job, he’s never left you alone. Even after you and Logan went public he would still sit next to you and talk about himself every lunch break.

You think about speeding up but it’s very obvious the couple can hear him as the entrance hall is completely empty.

“Hi Jack.” You grimace and turn to him as Logan grips your waist harder. “We were just leaving, it’s getting quite late.”

“Without saying goodbye to me?” He pouts. I feel Logan shake as he tries to suppress a laugh due to the fact that there is a grown man pouting like a two year old in front of us. “Irish goodbyes are the quickest.” I respond as politely as possible, turning into Logan’s grasp hoping to leave.

“Well I actually needed to talk to you about your final hand in for the year… and by that I mean you need to do more” he laughs, as if it’s going to make everything ok.

“More? Mrs Randall said my work was fully complete and the best of the company. I’m not doing more unless she tells me!” I snap back just wanting to leave and relax with Logan due to the fact that it’s his winter break too.

“Yes, exactly the boss says yours is the best. So I need you to do mine! I’ll email it all over- oh actually I’ll just come over tomor-“

“No mate it’s our time off now.” Logan steps in realising how tired you are of Jack and his antics. “Cmon Y/N/N let’s go home.”

“You don’t have to listen to the American, be the independent woman that I know you are” Jack pokes, as if he’s trying to anger your boyfriend.

Yet that last remark is the final straw for you, you’d had enough.

You reach up to your American, grab him by the face and pull him into you. Your lips don’t have to fight for dominance as Logan knows you want to make Jack as uncomfortable as possible. If his eyes weren’t closed, they’d be rolling to the back of his head due to the pleasure that your possessiveness gave him.

Logan knew how annoying Jack was for you, and how often that you’d turned him down or made it obvious you were not interested so he’s never thought he’d be grateful for Jack’s perseverance (if you could even call it that). And, weirdly, in this moment he’s never loved kissing you more.

Quiet, desperate whimpers arise from the couple and Jack finally takes the hint and moves away, occasionally looking back hoping that you’d follow him still.

“Babe your anger is turning me on so much right now, can we go?” Logan pulls away, whispering quickly before being drawn back into your taste. You break apart giggling and gently push his face away from yours before he reconnects his hand around your waist and walks with you to the car park.

During the car ride back, you calm down listening to the soft radio and hearing murmurs of Logan talk about your actual work friends.

“Y/N are you there sweetheart?” Logan’s inquiry brings you back. His hand on your thigh brings a redness to your face, you’ve missed his touch. How can someone be so hot by just driving with one hand?

“Yes sorry, I was just trying to get over Jack being a dick.” You roll your eyes at the memory. “I mean seriously who does he think he is? I’m gonna write an email and-“

You are cut off by Logan gently turning your face towards his. The car had been parked in front of your home for a while but you hadn’t noticed due to your ranting. “Baby, I know how much you love to write emails but let’s forget about him until January yeah? Tonight I just wanna be with you and hear only positive things please.” His eyes soften as you relax into his palm.

After a quick peck, the blonde rushes out of the car to open your door before holding your hand all the way into the house. Once inside he carefully drops to his knees to remove your shoes and puts your bag on the side before standing up again.

The silence is thick with tension as you stare at each other, only a mere metre away, waiting to see who breaks first.

You both give up as you violently embrace each other in a sloppy make out session. Walking backwards, you drag Logan by the tie into your bedroom and push him onto the bed.

Logan wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his thighs. He looks up at you through his eyelashes “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” You try to wiggle out of his grasp in a blushing mess but he pulls tighter. “Everyday I am grateful to wake up knowing I am yours.”

He slowly rises, kissing up your arms, across your collarbones and to your neck finding that one spot that makes you whine for him. His hands make quick work of undoing your dress and he lets it drop to your ankles. Logan’s eyes rake up and down your body in a surprisingly wholesome way. You have never felt more loved than now. Even being basically naked here makes you feel warm.

“Logan…Please” you try to say in a demanding tone but Logan doesn’t notice as this is all it takes for the blonde’s lips to be back on yours, it feels like he’s trying to slowly consume you and you are already so far gone you might let him.

You claw at his shirt trying to pull it up and unbutton it, until he eventually helps. Running your fingertips up and down his abs, Logan lets out a breathy whine as your nails catch every so often. He grabs your hands to stop you and gently lets them drop as he removes his tie, giving you a look.

Without a second thought, you’ve tied his wrists above him on the headboard and you are straddling him, mouths reconnecting with no intentions of breathing at all.

“Use me,” Logan whispers.

It startles you. He’s never acted like this before. Sure you’ve been on top before but he was still kind of in charge. “Fuck out your anger sweetheart.” He looks into your eyes with full trust, confidence and honesty.

A wave of confidence floods your system as you start to grind down lightly on his crotch. A light gasp comes from the man as he already forgets about the tie and tries to grab your hips. You ignore his struggle and nip at his neck like he did to you only a few moments ago. Marking him more and more as you move down his chest.

You carry on your trail nipping and marking, kissing and licking until you reach his belt. You haven’t stopped grinding against his lap until now, you reach for his face. This time, the kiss you share is filled with love and passion. As you pull away Logan tries to follow, not wanting to leave your orbit but you push him down. “I love you Logan.” You say.

You hastily reach for his belt before looking up to see an impatient look grow in his green eyes, not wanting to tease either of you for any longer you finally undo his trousers.

You were surprised that either of you lasted this long tonight due to how much Logan had teased you before leaving the house.

*Four Hours Earlier*

“Logan are you dressed?” You ask before walking out of your room trying to find the blonde man.

“Damn!” You hear the American whistle behind you as you spin to see him lounged out on the sofa. “Yeah I’m dressed, but I wish you weren’t” he winked at you as he got up and made his way towards you.

“Is it ok? I have time to change!” You start to panic as you overthink your outfit. “No Y/N” Logan lunges towards you with a worried look “I meant you look hot,” He cups your face with one hand and grabs your palm with the other. “You look more than hot but I’m not really smart enough to think of any more words. You’ve actually left me speechless!”

You laugh together, holding hands, looking into each others eyes. You want to stay here forever but you both know that this end of year ceremony is important for both your team and yourself as you have been selected to win an award and make a speech.

Logan sees the realisation set in but knows exactly what to do to take your mind off of it. With one hand around your waist and the other still holding yours, he starts to sway you and hum. Very badly.

You screw up your face as you try to work out the song he is attempting but it makes him laugh and the humming is lost to his chuckles. “Your speech is both on your phone and printed in your bag. I also have a spare in my pocket. Please breathe Y/N, I can’t have you passing out before we get there!” He places a kiss to your temple as he pulls the printed copy from his pocket, placing it back and patting it for safekeeping.

*Now*

You sit bare and start to move back and forth on his hard cock while Logan writhes and moans above you, wordlessly begging for you to put him out of his misery. Your nails trace his abdomen and thighs again in a soothing manner before you sit above him to run his tip from your clit downwards. You sink onto him slowly, quick breaths and moans leave the pair as you grab at his hips and the bed sheets. Anything to keep you steady.

“You feel so good, Logan” you look into his eyes, you can see the lust pouring out of the green irises. “Don’t stop Y/N, I’ll do anything- just don’t stop.”

You can feel him getting close. You cant take it anymore, and you can tell that if you wait any longer- Logan will snap the headboard. So you hastily reach up and remove the tie from his wrists. You go to stroke the red marks in an apologetic way but Logan is too fast. He grabs your face and pulls you in for a passionate kiss before running his hands across your body pulling shivers from you previously missing his absence.

He holds your waist as you place your hands on his face and shoulders, bracing yourself. He bucks up into you creating a consistent rhythm bringing you closer and closer to the high you’ve been chasing.

“Y/N, baby, I’m so close. Please.” He whines into your neck before biting down at you again to attempt to conceal the uncontrollable noises.

“Let me hear you, honey, you’re being so good for me” You gently pull the hairs at the nape of his neck.

A wet line of unshed tears lines his eyes as he is pulled back. Tears of both pleasure and frustration as he just wants to release into you.

“Come.” You whisper into the air, so quietly you don’t know if your boyfriend has heard. But his actions speak louder than words as his hold on you tightens and his strokes become harder.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾༓･˚⁺‧͙

After a few moments of comforting silence, Logan moves you to lay on your back and he moves to hover over you. “Let me clean up the mess we made.” He says as he holds strong eye contact with you.

He lowers himself back down to your dripping pussy and gets to work. His tongue is pulling obscene noises from you as he slurps and strokes against your core, his nose occasionally bumping at your clit. Your hands reach for his hair and he knows you’re close once again.

His hand reaches up and two fingers are pushed into you, pumping as he continues to eat you out. Your breathing has quickend, your body is getting hotter and your ears are starting to ring as you get closer and closer to orgasming.

He desperately wants to taste you and his moans vibrate through you making you wetter at his begging.

With one final tug of his blonde strands, your back arches and you come with so much pleasure your vision only shows white.

Your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion and Logan slowly moves away and into the bathroom to retrieve a damp cloth to actually clean you. He pulls you in close under the covers of your bed and strokes your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ears as you fall into deep sleep together.

My first F1 and smut wow

Requests are open as always and I will be making a list of who I write for being both drivers individually and different fandoms.

Please do not repost, reblogs are appreciated.

[14buddy22]

“Ours” by Taylor?? Reader is in a relationship with Aaron despite others saying it wouldn’t be a good idea since he isn’t there all the time and has an unreliable schedule. Maybe even Aaron doubts the relationship working since Haley didn’t understand it sometimes either but reader pushes for the relationship to work and continues to love even others don’t believe it’ll last :,)

Ours

Meeting the love of your life at a bar wasn't what you thought was going to happen to you. You always figured you'd meet your dream husband at the book store or a local coffee shop, not a bar.

It's not that you despised bars, you actually like dive bars. But you never thought you'd meet the love of your life here. Love works in mysterious ways.

You and Aaron Hotchner had been dating for 6 months. You learned his busy schedule and you knew he was not going to be there all the time.

Canceled dinner dates, last minute texts saying your weekend plans would be canceled. Everything in between, yet you understood and were never mad.

Aaron always wondered how long it would be until you finally snapped at him for his busy schedule, but you never did.

Until you did worse than snap, you cried to him. Started having self doubt, and this is how it all went down.

You were at a bar on a Friday night with your coworkers. You all loved going out after the work week. Sometimes everyone invited their spouses, some nights they didn't, it all just depended.

Tonight was a night that no spouses came, which was a little upsetting because Aaron actually was in town this weekend. Which you know you should be spending with him, and a part of you felt a little guilty for it. But he told you that this was your guys' thing and that it's okay to go out with your friends, he'd be waiting for you to text him when you got home so he could call and say goodnight to you.

The minute the conversation at the table started going, you knew where it was leading too.

"My husband's schedule is opposite of me, which is perfect so we never need a sitter."

Everyone was talking about their significant others' schedules and you were just sat there.

"How long are you going to stay with Aaron? You can't put up with his schedule for the next 20 something years. The late nights, the missed dates, long weeks without seeing him. You should dump him now, or soon it'll be your 1 year anniversary and you'll feel stuck with him."

You never felt stuck with him. He told you about his ghosts of the past. He told you about Haley and why Haley left. You wouldn't have been with him if you weren't prepared to commit for the long run.

"I love Aaron. And this won't be his schedule for the next 20 years. Maybe the next 10. He'll be able to be section chief if he wants it or he'll put in for early retirement. The offer still stands ever since his ex-wife passed away."

"Don't you want someone there for you all the time? How can a relationship be built when he's never with you?"

Aaron tries. He really does. You were so happy with him. Weren't you? Maybe there was this lie being built. Trying to believe in something maybe you didn't.

No, no, you loved Aaron. You couldn't doubt yourself. There is nothing to doubt about. You wanted to be with Aaron forever, regardless of his busy schedule. They don't know that he sends texts to you every single day, calls you every night, sends flowers to your home once a week if he can't deliver them in person. Aaron loved you and you loved him.

"I'm very happy with Aaron and his schedule is not going to be the thing that makes me leave."

You just wanted to go home to him now, so you were paying for your tab and saying goodbye to your friends shortly after the conversation.

When you called Aaron, asking to come to his apartment, he told you yes, saying he would love it if you spent the weekend with him since Jack was at Jessica's.

When you walked into his apartment, he was greeting you with a kiss, hug, and flowers.

You loved this man, a schedule would never change that.

"You never call it early with your coworkers, what happened honey?"

You explained everything to Aaron. He listened intently. You saw the fear sitting behind his brown eyes. He didn't want you to break up with him. He was in love with you and he knew that you were the girl that he'd been waiting for. You were perfect.

When you wiped your tear after saying they wanted you two to break up, he hugged you. When he pulled away, he said, "No matter what decision you make, someone will always disapprove. It's true when people say you can't make everyone happy. Someone will always want to go against what the decision was."

You kissed him and said, "I will never leave you because of your schedule, it's going to take a lot more to get rid of me Hotchner."

You both chuckled and he pulled you into his arms.

"Don't you worry your pretty little mind. People throw rocks at things that shine. Life, well that makes love look hard. This love is ours. No one can take that from us, sweetheart."

[ateotd-izzy]

maroon | thomas x fem!reader

“the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me”

during his first night in the glade, thomas (quite literally) bumps into a girl.

“and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon”

as more time passes, thomas becomes closer with y/n (very close), but that changes after they escape the maze.

“the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones”

warnings: it’s bad, kissing, maze runner, swearing and whatever (i never know what to write here)

“the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon”

☾

“our med-jacks, clint and jeff.” newt introduced to the greenie as he showed the boy around. “and this is— woah, watch out.”

the greenie hadn’t been watching where he was going and bumped right into you as you walked past, spilling the drink he had been holding all over your shirt.

“oh, god, i am so…” he paused as he met your eyes. a girl? “sorry.”

you looked down at your soaking wet shirt and a few boys around snickered.

“thanks.” you smiled sarcastically and turned on your heel, heading towards the small hut that sat not far from the homestead.

“nice one, greenie.” newt clapped him on the back. “i think you just ruined her day.”

“who was that?” the boy asked, watching as you disappeared behind the door of the hut.

“y/n. she’s one of the runners.” newt answered. “also the glade’s only girl.”

“oh.”

inside you were changing your shirt, muttering in annoyance as you did so.

your favorite shirt (out of the five or so you owned) was now covered in gally’s foul-smelling drink thanks to that greenie.

after changing, you went outside to join the party again, only for it to be declared over moments after the greenie remembered his name.

thomas.

“uh, hey.” he jogged over to you as you walked back to your hut. “i’m, um, i’m sorry about before. is your shirt okay?”

“it’ll survive.” you shrugged. “i guess.”

“so, you’re a runner?” he asked, walking with you. “you go into the maze with that minho guy?”

“yep.” you glanced at him. “are you just going to follow me the whole way?”

“oh, sorry.” he slowed down. “um, i’ll go now.”

“okay.” you stared.

“see you around, y/n.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “right. see you around…”

“thomas.”

“see you around, thomas.”

while it may not have seemed like it, you and thomas became pretty close friends over the next week or so, and you felt dumb to admit that you even had feelings for him.

he was in the same boat. except thomas was head-over-heels in love with you.

you kissed once. when the glade was being attacked by grievers, he kissed you before the two of you split up.

so after your group escaped the maze, the two of you did your best to stick together.

the two of you sat on the floor of the room your group had been forced into after being ‘saved’.

your legs were stretched out to sit in his lap, and his hands sat on top of them.

the rest of the group was around, all full after eating more food than they’d ever seen in their lives.

you couldn’t focus on the conversation that was going on between teresa and the boys, because all you could focus on was how thomas’ fingers drew small shapes on the bare skin of your leg where your pants had rolled up a little.

you wanted to tell him how you felt. you wanted to kiss him again. but everyone else was around, and the thought of being in front of everyone made you uncomfortable.

you had no clue how thomas did his whole leader thing.

when the door to the room opened, everyone jumped up and ran over, eager to know exactly what was going on.

the man who had opened the door introduced himself as mr. janson and led your group through the compound.

thomas held your hand the whole time.

“first things first, let’s do something about that smell.”

the boys were being taken to a different room to you and teresa. just before your hand slipped from his, you kissed thomas on the cheek. simple enough.

that night you properly kissed again and he asked you to be his girlfriend, and despite all of your worries, you said yes.

it wasn’t long after that when your group had to leave the compound with another boy, aris. you still hadn’t escaped wicked.

you stuck by thomas’ side the whole time, or until you were separated again.

you didn’t even know if he was alive, but jorge was confident he and brenda were fine.

it took a few days until you reached what jorge called marcus’ place.

you got into the party and the first thing you spotted was thomas and brenda.

kissing.

then they pulled apart, thomas said something and brenda wandered off.

thomas seemed to spin around the room until he yelled out and collapsed.

your heart was broken.

you were separated for just a few days, the longest since you had met, and he was kissing a girl he barely knew.

you couldn’t even say anything to him because he was out cold. instead you had to help minho drag him upstairs and act like nothing happened.

then, after he woke up, your group was on the run again, searching for the right arm.

in the car, thomas reached his hand over and tried to take yours in his, but you pulled yours back. you didn’t let him.

he looked at you. he was confused.

you didn’t answer his look. you just turned your head away from him and looked out the car window.

he had no clue why you were suddenly ignoring him. not the entire drive to the mountains, not when the were taken to the right arm camp, not when brenda collapsed.

it was only when he was in the tent with her later, just after brenda woke up, when it clicked to him why.

you had seen brenda kiss him.

everything seemed to click into place at that moment, and he jumped to his feet halfway through his conversation with brenda.

“you okay?” she asked.

“yeah. yeah, there’s just something i need to do.” thomas looked down at her. “i’m sorry, i’ll be back later.”

then he ran out of the tent.

the camp was large, and thomas had no clue where he could find you. or any of his friends for that matter.

it took about ten minutes of searching until he found you.

you were sitting alone on a rock, looking down at your feet and mumbling something to yourself.

“y/n?”

you looked up and thomas realized you had been crying.

“what?”

there was a twinge of bitterness in your voice, and thomas frowned. it reminded him of how you had spoken to him the night you met, when he had splashed his drink into you.

“you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

he knew you weren’t, and he ignored the obvious signs that you didn’t want him around when he sat down beside you.

“what do you want, thomas?” you asked.

without another word, he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

at first, you thought about trying to pull away. but you didn’t.

“why’d you kiss her? brenda?” you asked eventually. “do you like her better? because, you know, i’ll back off or whatev—”

“no, no, no, y/n.” he pulled back so he could look you in the eyes. “i could never like anyone better than i like you.”

“then why—?”

“she kissed me.” thomas told you, cupping your cheek with one hand. “we were drugged, okay? i…”

thomas winced slightly at the memory of brenda’s face after his words.

“i thought she was you.” he admitted. “whatever that marcus guy put in that drink had me seeing the weirdest shit.”

“are you calling me weird shit?” you teased and thomas’ eyes widened.

“what? no.” he shook his head. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know. i was kidding.”

you grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized.

“don’t be. i get it now.” you shrugged.

“yeah, but i could’ve said something sooner.”

“when?” you asked. “when you were passed out? or when we were almost shot by mountain people?”

he chuckled. “okay, maybe not. but—”

“tommy, i get it. don’t worry.”

the feeling of freedom and happiness that evening was short lived, and soon became a nightmare.

teresa betrayed them, wicked burned the camp to the ground, and multiple people were taken.

sonya, aris, minho and you.

thomas had lost you. he had lost the battle. but he was determined to get you and minho and everyone else back.

he would do anything he could. he would do whatever it took to get you back.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: why don’t these ever turn out like they sounded in my head LMAO

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The cold truth

Artful Dodger one shot. Jack Dawkins x fem reader

Before Fagin's return, before Belle, before it all there was y/n. The first woman to break Jack's heart. He kept her portrait in a silver locket, the chain hanging on his bed. One day, long after her operation Belle sits in the hospital going over medical text when Hetty comes into her. Seeing the locket in Belle's hand she tells her the story.

"She was a lovely girl, a nurse here. Odd though because she was married. So many of us live a solitary life but not y/n. She was such a wonderful spirit. I'm convinced she could make the dead dance with her joy. None of us could have known. Jack was the first to notice the changes, they were so small at first. Y/n had always had the most beautiful red hair, it was so thick she could hardly contain it and would have it tied several plates pinned about her head. I remember Jack coming to me one morning, the spirals were gone. It was all chopped off up to her shoulders. Y/n wouldn't tell us what happened.

Then it was the bruises. Poking out of her dress on her neck, her arms you know. She just kept saying she was clumsy, but we spent hours with her and none of us ever saw her even trip. Jack tries to ask her once but she brushed him off.

I don't know if it was her original joy or the subsequent lack of it, but the doctor seemed fixated on her. He needed to know what was happening.

One time he bumped into her, knocking her ribs and the touch sent y/n to the floor. Shocked by the reaction Jack took her aside and checked her over. Y/n had a bruise that covered her whole left side. Angry and red, purple, blue. Still she wouldn't tell us a thing. Jack took it upon himself to look after her. Noting that she would often work a whole day without a bite of food he began making extra lunch and sitting with her.

He would talk about her when she wasn't around. Retelling her jokes and talking of her beauty.

Of course we know now that it was her husband. He cut her hair off with an axe. Said she was too vain about her appearance and a nurse didn't need long hair. The beatings were worse. He would attack her for any little mistakes. Her ribs? That was because she had burnt dinner one night. He was an awful man. We only found out because Jack found her wandering the streets on his way home for the cat and bagpipes. He had kicked her out of their house. I don't remember what for, but Jack found her and he took care of her. By then the only time I saw her happy was when they were sat together. She told him everything and he promised to help her. Said she could have a bed in our nurses quarters. She even appeared happy for a while, the two of em did.

A week or so later she went home to collect her things, convinced her husband would be at work. He wasn't.

She managed to get back here. I'll never know how she made it. One broken leg, a fractured elbow and a knife in her gut. She did though, she came stumbling in. I think I screamed when I saw her. Jack rushed her into the theatre, but this was about a year before you came along. There was nothing he could do with the knife wound. That damn blade was wide enough to take down an elephant. Ripped her up so badly inside. She couldn't breathe and the blood was pouring into her lungs.

Jack tried and tried until she asked him to stop. Exhausted and covered in her blood, Jack was ready to collapse himself. She held tight to his hand and looked into his eyes.

"No, no y/n, you gotta fight this. You can't die." Jack begged her.

"Jack, I have to go. I'm sorry. You can't save me." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. Jack held on to her. I had hoped his will alone might make God knit her back together. My faith took a knock that day and I'm not afraid to admit it. The look on that boys face when they insisted on taking her away. Tim had to hold him to keep Jack from following her body to the grave.

We all changed after that day. The first time one of our own bad died so brutally. Jack wasn't the same. He threw himself into his work, his competition with Sneed.

You know there are times when he still visits her grave. Maybe that's why he was so desperate to save you, Lady Belle. Jack's poor heart couldn't take another love being ripped away from him. It's a lovely portrait of her. " She finishes by glancing over Belle's shoulder at the lockett.

"he's in prison, so you think, do you think you could take me to her grave?" Belle asks.

It's a small wooden cross with her name carved into it.

"we couldn't afford a real headstone. " Hetty explains. Belle bent to touch the wood, running her fingers over the carved wood.

"What happened to the husband?"

"Got himself hanged for his troubles three weeks after. It took three hours for him to die. Come on now miss we should get you back before you're missed." Hetty reminded her.

"of course. I shall bring y/n flowers tomorrow."

"very good Milady "

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Susceptible - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Fully clothed grinding, very slight dirty talk, very light exhibitionism in a sense, no use of Y/N, female-hinted reader because of skirt/makeup mentions but other than that there's no real gender mention.

Wordcount: 4950

Summary: You spent a small fortune getting a ticket to Carmichael Haig's show on the promise of his new act showing his audience something the world has never seen before, as well as the possible attendance of one Jack Delroy, but will two hours of bullshit be worth the risk?

Notes: There is SO MUCH BUILDUP I'm so sorry I'm so weak for worldbuilding and plot I swear the other one I have planned will be shorter OTL I have never written a reader before but I am a huge fan of them, especially the DDverse ones I've been binging oop, so I hope this is a good first attempt! It's been a few years since I've written anything like this and probably a good decade or so since I last posted anything, so here's hoping I post more in the upcoming future~ This is also completely unbetaed so if you see any mistakes please let me know <3 The Manhattan Center is also real but didn't fit my needs entirely so I mashed it together with the theatre I went to as a kid lol

~~~~~~~~~~

Carmichael Haig was back in town and you had no idea why you were here. 

He had left for what felt like both forever and not nearly long enough for a few months to do his tour, seeing his smug face everywhere you looked between both digital and paper news and making your distaste grow a little more each time. You had been fond of his trickery for a time, but his move from magic man to skeptic had sucked all the fun out of the act, his determination to not only find the real but humiliate the fakes way past annoying to straight up sickening to you by this point. Tonight’s show proved to be another big presentation of the latter you’d decided when it’d been announced officially, promoted by your favourite talk show host - and current celebrity crush - Jack Delroy; his smile was wide for the cameras but it didn’t reach his eyes, you could always tell between them by now and he did not seem to be as pleased as the two talked about it that night.

‘I’m going to show the world something they’ve never seen before,’ Carmichael had said, his usual smug look in place as he hammed it up for the cameras like he could really pull that off, Jack running with it like the patron saint of patience he had to be.

‘Big talk, you sure I can’t convince you to give our wonderful audience a taste tonight?’ he asked, the crowd cheering at the mere thought of getting to experience his new act an entire month early, but if there was even an iota of temptation within him to share he hid it perfectly. He waved the offer away to everyone’s disappointment, Jack pouting on everyone’s behalf and putting those big eyes on display as his own plea; the ratings, you imagined, would be wonderful for a segment like this when his show was already starting to slip down the line, but even that was no use.

‘You’ll all get a chance to see it on the 13th,’ he promised them as he turned to face the audience, the place and date scrolling across the bottom of the screen yet again, they’d been flashing it every single time it was mentioned to the point where you were sure you’d see it in your sleep tonight, rolling across the bottom half of your dream. ‘Or, those of you who’ve been able to get your tickets will, we’re selling out fast,’ he smirked with a tip of his glass, yet another thing that’d been brought up and hammered home; you’d gone to the Manhattan Center to check a couple days ago, just out of curiosity, the ticket price absolutely ridiculous to the point that you were convinced they’d never sell out, but now you guessed your distaste of him wasn’t as widespread as you’d secretly hoped.

Jack slapped his leg in mock disappointment, Carmichael looking back to him at the sound. ‘Guess you’ll have to tell me all about it the next time you’re back in town, I had asked Gus to pick one up for me but it seems he missed that call,’ he joked, Gus’ surprise at the blame of his absence being placed on him getting a big laugh as his face fell and he tried to explain himself. 

Carmichael placed an understanding hand on Jack’s shoulder and leaned in closer, the other man leaning in in return as if to receive some kind of secret. ‘Well then, it’s a good thing my date canceled on me,’ he retorted, and when he pulled his hand back he revealed a ticket, Jack’s eyes going wide as he accepted the gift with a big smile, pointing to it before shaking Carmichael’s hand with a thanks.

Ah, so that was why you were here again.

You knew you’d never be able to get a seat on Night Owls because the thought of Jack seeing you in the crowd made you blush all the way to your shoulders, even on your bravest of nights you hadn’t been able to even call and see if there were any tickets left, but to maybe share an audience with him? To sit in the same room as him where you could steal glances if you were able to find him, with no risk whatsoever of him catching the way your eyes lit up when you looked at that handsome face, that dangerously attractive body? That was doable. 

It had cost an arm and a leg to convince that scalper to hand over one of the tickets he was parading around outside the Center, but it was worth it as you stepped inside, your heart racing because, unless he wanted to risk the aftermath of Carmichael calling him out for not going, he was here; somewhere in this building was the man you’d been dreaming about since his debut a few years ago, the one you watched nearly every night without fail just for that hour where he looked at you, talked to you, noticed you even if it was through a camera, and that was all you’d needed until tonight.

You’d gotten a pretty shitty seat despite the price but you didn’t mind, it actually worked out for you considering you weren’t actually there to see the show but to look for someone in the seats in front of you, and you hoped that you’d be able to spot him from where you were in the far back corner. As long as he wasn’t, say, the exact opposite of you then you probably stood a chance of at least a glance, since his ticket came from Carmichael himself you guessed that it was probably close to the front if not front row center just to mess with him and prove that he’d come, and you felt all the hair rise on your arms and neck when Carmichael walked on stage early to very loudly greet someone who’d just walked in.

There he was, leaving his seat to meet the other man in the middle, and he was so much further than you expected but it was still him, big smile in place, hair perfectly combed, his crisp suit being wrinkled by Carmichael’s hands as he gave him a showy hug, and he was beautiful. You froze in the middle of the row, unable to finish the walk as your eyes stayed on him, the people trying to get by you not as starstruck as they attempted to squeeze past when you ignored their presence.

‘Sorry,’ you murmured as you sat as fast as you could, eyes still trained on him as he waved to the crowd to prove that yes, he did honour the gift and was there to see this big new act he’d been promised. You let out an embarrassingly needy whine when he sat back down and you became unable to see him again, the mass of bodies behind him obscuring all but a sliver of the back of his head from this angle, and you’d be damned if you had to spend the next 2 hours stuck like this at a Carmichael Haig show of all things. The person at the end of the row finally arrived and you made your move, hurrying down and taking one last glance before getting ready to make this whole thing a little more bearable. ‘Excuse me,’ you nearly stuttered as the person, a man older than yourself who definitely gave off the air of being a Carmichael fan, looked up at you, ‘would you want to trade seats with me? I was really looking forward to the show but I was too late to grab an aisle seat.’

It’s a blatant lie but the quick glance from before proved that you could see him better from there, and the chance of getting to look at him for the next two hours was worth the look the man gave you at the request.

‘Which one are you?’ he asked, looking down to the few empty spaces still waiting for their owners, and you pulled out your ticket to double check, seeing that it was R51; wow, you didn’t realize how far away R was from A until you saw it firsthand. He looked back down to your seat and considered it, looking you over midthought when he thought you weren’t looking, and he almost got away with it if not for the fact that you felt his eyes on you. ‘$100,’ he decided, the offer knocking the wind right out of you.

‘What? The seat was already $350,’ you choke, giving away the fact that you were really, really late to the party.

‘Take it or leave it, I had the sense to order on time,’ is all he says to that, and you looked back at your possible view before sighing heavily and reaching for your wallet; goddamnit, Jack, if only he knew how worth it he was. You hand over the money and step aside, the man pocketing his fee and leaving the seat for you as promised, and the view is just barely better but there he is again, perfectly in view due to what can only be a miracle, the hole in your wallet feeling a little less big as you watched him turn his head to talk to someone, giving you a perfect side view.

He really was handsome, captivating even from this distance, and you swoon a little as the audience finished filling out, the lights dimming and obscuring your view a little more save the grace of the stage lights that illuminate him from the front as Carmichael walked back out on stage and started the show. You’d never been one for spacing out but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, the $450 price tag of this shitty aisle seat all for him and not feeling so bad even as Carmichael charms everyone around you. He didn’t look to the side that often, you guessed he didn’t actually know his neighbour since the seat was a gift, but the times that he did, where he laughed or sighed at the theatrics or even put his face in his hand because he wasn’t having too much fun, were all cataloged away in your head forever, the perfect souvenirs to last you a lifetime of home viewing after this. 

At about an hour in according to your old watch, Jack looked about ready to get up and find any reason to leave, which you couldn’t blame him for, the acts themselves were pretty damn good you realized in the times you actually paid attention, but it was getting so tiring to see Carmichael explain away all of their tricks, to see the joy leave their faces at being called a fraud or having all their mysteries revealed, and it was clear Jack felt the same down in row A. After a particularly rough walk-off from a woman who was trying very desperately to convince Carmichael that she could really read his mind and ending up with the humiliating reality that everything he answered to was false to get her to out herself, you noticed that when you looked back to his seat that Jack isn’t there, and you were in the middle of wondering where he went when the person coming up the aisle came into view so suddenly that it took your breath away.

It was Jack, his brow twitching slightly to keep a neutral face, his footsteps heavy as he tried not to stomp and draw attention to the fact that that last one really pissed him off, his hands already reaching into his suit pocket for something. You tried not to stare the closer he got but it was hard, years of being able to look all you want training your brain to look look look as he approached, and you forced yourself to stare straight ahead at the stage as he reached you. Your hands were clenched tight in your lap as he went to pass row R, and you were in the middle of thinking you were going to make it when he fumbled the small box in his pocket and dropped it with a low curse, the cigarettes he apparently smoked bouncing to the side and coming to a stop between your recently shined shoes.

Your head snapped down so fast you felt it in your neck as he came to a stop beside you, the two of you locating the box at the same time, and you stiffened as he reached for it before realizing how rude that would be despite his own sour mood. ‘I’m sorry, could I bother you for a second,’ he asked, his smile back in place despite being a bit tense, and you stuttered out a confirmation as you leaned down to pick them up.

‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself, Jack’s hand frozen in midair as he reached for the box, his smile relaxing a little as he looked from your hand to your face.

‘Did I find myself a Night Owl in this sea of skeptics?’ he wondered aloud, your cheeks brightening in a way that really made you pray it was dark enough not to notice. 

‘I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,’ you lie, and he crouched down so he could hear your whispers as the crowd reacted to the next act.

‘I take it you’re also not very impressed,’ he figured, hitting the nail on the head based on your expression alone. He chuckled at your silent confirmation and looked back down to the cigarettes, his fingertips just barely touching yours as you both held it, you didn’t even know when he’d grabbed it and you let go before it got awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well, if you don’t tell my producer that I’m smoking again, then I won’t tell Haig that you didn’t like his show, deal?’

You sucked in a breath as he moved the box to his left hand, offering up his right for a handshake this time to seal the deal, your heart pounding as you shook on it, his smile more genuine than you’d seen all night, you could always tell. He stood back up as the act finished and Carmichael went back to his disproving, his mood dropping again as his need to escape rearose. You both offered a look of disdain at the stage before he stood back up to move again, something stopping him midstep before he turned on his heel and leaned back down to you, a shiver running down your spine at how close he was so he could be heard.

‘Have you ever been to one of my shows?’ he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, his warm breath accidentally hitting your neck and rendering you unable to do anything but glance at him and shake your head no. ‘You’d have a much better time, I’ve got some great stuff coming up,’ he pitched, either completely unaware of your predicament or just used to people acting like this around him, either way he didn’t react when your eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to watch him lick his lips so fast you almost missed it. ‘The next one’s already booked up but if you go down to the studio and give them this card, you should be able to get a spot for a night you’re free, I'd like to see you there.’

He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a business card, flipping it around to the blank side on the back before resting it on the arm of the chair. A pen was found next, and he scribbled a quick note to the ticket seller on it on your behalf, signing it and handing it over with that big showman smile of his. You took it and placed it in your own wallet, the previous hole instantly filled with its presence, his mood clearly raised by the interaction as he wished you a quick goodbye and resumed his journey outside, oblivious to the fact that you were about to disrupt the entire theater if you didn’t find a place to scream and fast. 

You gave him a few minutes to reach the doors before jumping to your feet and making for the bathroom, your heels clickclacking on the tile the entire way until you found the correct door. The place was empty, which was great because once you caught sight of yourself you knew that it was bad enough he saw you this way, no one else should get the pleasure; your face was redder than you’d ever seen it, your pupils blown from the exchange and you could’ve sworn you could actually see yourself shaking you were buzzing so hard, your grin so wide anyone else would’ve assumed that Santa had just given you the toy you’d always wanted for Christmas early. 

You tried to calm yourself as you ripped off some paper towels and dampened them, patting them against your cheeks and neck to bring your body temperature back down to a normal person’s, carefully avoiding your makeup that you were thankful you spent the time putting on just on the ultra rare off chance you’d run into him. When you were ready to go back - and after a quick internal debate on whether you should try and meet him outside for another, less hushed conversation already - you made sure to calm your breathing before heading back out there, taking a quick moment to look for him before making the trek back to your seat. 

When you got back you noticed that no new act was on, Carmichael already talking to the audience and projecting himself up on the screens for all to see, you rolling your eyes as you collapsed into the rich red velvet and preparing for more of his bullshit until Jack returned, if he felt like it that was. Everyone around you was concentrating on his words, staring right ahead as the theater fell silent save for his voice and the sound of a ticking clock; ah, he was trying to hypnotize everyone, that must’ve been his big final act that he’d promised his audience. You weren’t impressed, you’d tried to be hypnotized before at a party in your youth, it hadn’t worked then so it wasn’t going to work now you knew, so you sat back and prepared to at least enjoy whatever he was going to make the audience do.

Your thoughts went back to Jack as Carmichael’s voice slowly got drowned out, the ticking a bit louder in your ears despite the distance, but you didn’t mind because it was nonsense anyway, ‘Now who’s the skeptic,’ you think to yourself as you sink deeper into your chair. You vaguely heard the words, ‘Your greatest desire,’ in your ear before you felt a hand on your shoulder, your eyes leaving the stage to travel up until you saw Jack standing just behind you in the aisle, his smile from before now more like a smirk as he motioned towards the doors like he wanted you to follow him. 

You looked back at the stage as Carmichael invited someone from the audience up to stand with him, some poor hypnotized fool who was bound to be humiliated along with everyone else who stood with him tonight, and you decided that you’d rather not see that again before standing and following Jack. There was a small hallway between the theater and the doors on that side of the back wall, the two of you out of view from everyone else but Carmichael’s voice still reaching, and you were about to wonder if he was leading you outside to just leave or talk when he turned and pushed you against the wall with a muffled thud. Your back met cold paint as your chest met with his, your eyes locking as he cornered you where no one could see, a confidence he saved for the cameras now focused solely on you as he looked you over the same way you’d done to him a thousand times over. 

‘I couldn’t wait for you to come to my show,’ he whispered, his voice impossibly low as he held you in place, a knee parting yours and making you gasp, ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘You’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you managed to get out, his eyes closing as he leaned in to grin against your cheek.

‘Is it working?’

You didn’t dare answer but you might as well have because your silence was enough to spur him into action, your head falling back against the wall as he started to kiss your neck, your hands grasping at anything because this was crazy. The man you’d wanted for years was kissing you not even 30ft away from a room full of people, anyone could come around the corner at any second and catch you, and you bit your lip at the thrill of it all. You’d had dreams like this before, ones that left you panting into your pillow when you awoke, but the real thing was so much better as he sucked a mark into your soft skin, your hand leaving his arm to cover your mouth lest you alert anyone within hearing distance to your current predicament.

You let him do as he pleased, let him ran his hands over your sides and down to the edge of where your lifted skirt was resting against his thigh, your legs shaking as your body tried not to grind against him; it was only due to him holding you that kept you standing as a matter of fact and he seemed fully aware of it as his nails scratched softly against your bare leg. He seemed to love all your reactions to what he did, he was in the entertainment business after all, every noise of approval that slipped through your fingers must’ve been like music to his ears but you had to hold back no matter how much you wanted to indulge him. Being denied what he wanted only made him work harder for it, the assault on your neck moving to your shoulder and collarbone instead of your covered lips, your mouth watering for just a taste as he started to move against you, one hand pulling your waist away from the wall by your lower back as the other moved up and under your skirt.

The first grind of his body against yours was decadent, you swore you could feel it in your soul the way he wanted you just as much as you’d wanted him, like he’d been watching you back through the screen for years and also craved this very moment, and now that he was getting it he wasn’t going to stop, you didn’t want him to stop. You’d never seen him act anything like this before in all his years on TV, a greedy flash of excitement running through you at getting to see such a new side of him quickly overcome by pleasure as he cupped your ass and pulled you even closer. You knew you couldn’t get undressed here, if you’d made it to the bathroom then maybe he’d be doing more but he hadn’t lasted even that long, but even with that desire being restrained you still wanted him here and now. Never in your life had you been this desperate for release but he was bringing out a demon inside of you that desired and needed and wanted so much that you were willing to throw your modesty out the fucking window for just a second of his hot skin pressed against your own, but this would have to do while the show still went on.

‘Jack…’ you moaned as your hand, moist from your panting, gripped his arm once again, Carmichael’s voice getting louder in the distance as you grew closer to your release.

‘Come home with me,’ he begged into your ear, his movements getting rougher as he also grew close, you knew you’d both have to leave before everyone saw you but it was worth it, god it was so worth it. ‘I want to have you all to myself, I need to taste you-’

You bit your lip and led his face away from your neck so you could look into his eyes, his mouth parted as he tried to control his own panting, he was coming apart at the seams for you right here in the hallway, the ticking in your ears either your heartbeat or a clock far away. You moaned his name again as you felt the heat build in your stomach, your back arching and pushing your body into him even more as the door to your right opened.

‘Dreamer, here, awake!’

All at once your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor before that final wave could push you over the edge, your head heavy and your vision swimming as the body against yours vanished into nothing. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ Jack’s voice from above asked as his worried expression came into view, the smell of rain and cigarette smoke invading your senses; the sound of the audience in a similar state of confusion drifted around the corner as Jack crouched down next to you, just back inside from his break from the show, the realization that you weren’t as immune to hypnosis as you’d thought hitting you like a bucket of cold water. You just panted in shock, surprise, and waning lust as Jack looked you over in concern, your hands moving to pull the bottom of your skirt down to cover your exposed legs in embarrassment, the scratches you were so certain he’d left behind not there, because he hadn’t been there.

‘I’m fine,’ you force yourself to say after you’d caught your breath, Jack believing you but still helping you to your feet like a gentleman, of course he would never act that way, that was only how you’d wanted him to act, you’d had dreams like that for god’s sake, the real Jack would never-

‘Is the show over?’ he asked as the roar of people applauding overtook the chatter, Carmichael now silent, and you avoided his eye as you started to edge towards the way out.

‘I think so.’

‘What was the big mind-blowing act?’

You put a little distance between yourself and him but he didn’t notice, Jack heading for the corner so he could look at the stage as he waited for your reply. ‘He hypnotized everyone,’ you answered curtly, his reaction big and full of surprise as he looked over the size of the crowd in an awe that wasn’t present for the first hour and a half.

‘Everyone? You should’ve come found me, I would’ve loved to see that.’ He was still looking at the room beyond, your eyes on him as he watched everyone else.

‘I got a little overwhelmed,’ you mumble, and he finally looked at you with that same concerned expression again, and it’s too much after what you’d just thought you’d seen, your eyes finding the floor.

‘What did he make you see?’ he asked, his curiosity quiet but still there under the concern, but you couldn’t answer him. ‘Do you need a ride home, or are you okay to drive?’

He’s too kind, he would never act that way, he would never say that to you.

‘I took a cab, I’ll be fine,’ you tried to say, but still you quickly found yourself being led to the front door as the audience swarmed around you, his hand on your back to make sure you stayed standing, a true gentleman. It had started raining while you were inside which explained the scent pairing with the smoke that covered up his cologne, and you just stood under the marquee as he hailed a cab for you as the sea of skeptics washed around you like rushing water. You hopped inside but he didn’t shut the door right away, leaning down in the rain once you were seated, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to get in when he spoke.

‘I do hope you come to my show, preferably Friday’s, it’s gunna be a good one, I promise,’ he said with that big genuine smile again, your heart pounding as your cheeks glowed red for a reason other than embarrassment as you gave him a small nod.

‘I’ll be there,’ you promised back, and he tapped the roof of the cab before shutting the door and letting you go. You looked out the back window as you drove away, the both of you waving as he ducked back inside and out of the rain, and as soon as you turned back around to face forward you found yourself reaching for your wallet. His card was in your hands as you looked it over, all in all it was an uninspiring, plain business card, and you flipped it over to read what he wrote for the ticketmaster on the back.

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

Your cheeks turned red again as you put the card away, the cab driver giving you a look in the rearview mirror as you held your nearly empty wallet, now with one business card, to your thumping chest. Oh yeah, it definitely was all worth it after all.

[harlowsbby]

Come See Me

“I don’t know if you love me anymore, I don’t know if you love me like before.” - Rod Wave.

You sighed as you looked down at your phone seeing the text you sent to Jack over an hour ago was still very much left on delivered.

Jack 💘

- Just call me when you’re close and I’ll come out.

The two of you were meant to go out and have dinner together and just end the night together because as of lately all he’s been doing is going out and obviously working which you didn’t have a issue with but at the same time you did.

You missed him dearly but whenever you told him that you wanted to spend more time with him it always somehow ended up in an argument.

He always saw it as you being a bit selfish although he’d never tell you that.

You sighed as you leaned back into the couch and thought back to previous arguments with Jack.

You hated the way you had the beg the man that you loved to spend time with you. It made you overthink your entire relationship and whether or not he even loved you the same anymore.

Flashback.

“Are we seriously going over this again? I thought we talked about this a few nights ago Y/N.” Jack clenched his jaw trying his best not to let his anger get the best of him.

The tension in the air was very thick. Both of you feeding off of each other’s energy and anger.

“Well I’m not fully over it and I’d rather talk things out with you then get all upset and go to bed mad at each-other.”

You argued back and crossed your arms over your chest. “So let’s talk, go ahead you start because I don’t even know what you’re upset about now.”

Jack stated and sat down on the couch and looked up at you.

By the irritated expression on his face you could tell this was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight, but he knew you weren’t going to sleep till you spoke your mind.

“Can you at least act like you care? Or is caring above you as well.” You tried mumbling under your breath but Jack heard you loud and clear.

“What are you on about? Of course I care.” He tried defending himself.

“Oh do you?” You were only shocked. “Because as of lately it seems like you don’t care about me or our relationship at all.”

Jack’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as his lips formed into a frown. “What do you mean?” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“You’re kidding me right? You’re always out in the studio, out with friends late at night and whenever you do make it home I’m always asleep or stuck at work myself!!”

You yelled at him and watched as his face softened but soon harden.

“You’re serious? I can’t go out and have alone time by myself anymore. I’m meant to be inside with you 24/7? Y/N.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying Jack I just want you here with me sometimes. I wanna wake up in the mornings with my boyfriend next to me and spend time with you. I never see you anymore!!” You spat at him and watched as he stood up.

The two of you were now somewhat at eye level. His face was red in anger.

“I’m a rapper Y/N, I have fans to please and a label that needs me. I’m actually somebody.” That one stung and it honestly took you off guard.

You shook your head at him and chuckled darkly. “You don’t get it but maybe I’m the one that doesn’t get it considering you’re a celebrity right? You’re actually someone right?” He sighed.

“I didn’t mean it like that baby.” He tried reaching out for you only for you to take a step back.

“I think it’s best you sleep downstairs tonight.” He smacked his lips. “Come on baby I didn’t mean it like that.” You shook your head at him.

“It’s fine really Jack.” You lied and went to bed that night with a heavy heart.

Flashback over

Ever since that day Jack has been trying his best to make things right between the two of you. The keyword in the sentence is the word ‘trying’.

You looked down at your phone seeing you had gotten a notification that Urban posted onto his story via Instagram.

You opened up the app and clicked on his story you smiled seeing he was with a bunch of his friends which you assumed were at the newest karaoke bar that opened up down the street.

You were about to exit out the app and call up Jack when you noticed a familiar head of curls in the video. You brought the phone closer to your face and squinted your eyes a bit.

“This isn’t gonna do much justice.” You sighed and exited out Urban’s story, maybe you were paranoid there was no way Jack was going to stood you up. He wanted to make this relationship work right? He wanted the two of you to live happily ever after right?

Your phone lit up again and you saw Urban posted yet another story to his page. You were gonna let it go and not even worry about it but something was telling you to look.

“Fuck it.” You said and quickly went to Instagram and clicked on the story but immediately regretted it.

In the video there was Jack clear as day in the background talking to some blonde haired chick. Obviously it wasn’t Urban’s intentions to film Jack he just so happened to be in the background.

Urban was meant to be recording Ace who was trying his hardest to hit the high notes in a Whitney Huston song but was failing miserably.

In the background near the tv stood Jack and the mystery women.

You could see him handing her back a phone which you assumed was her phone. Which made you automatically assume he must’ve given her his number.

You wanted to message him and to go down there and go off but honestly you had no more energy in you to keep this relationship going.

“I guess this was what celebrities do huh?” You whispered to yourself and shook your head. All you could do was grab your car keys and purse and leave. You weren’t about to stick around and be played with.

(Just a little angst inspired by Rod Wave’s song Come See Me, it isn’t the best but enjoy it 😭💘)

[luvhughes43]

bullshit on the internet | jack hughes x reader

suki waterhouse masterlist - luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

summary: y/n and jacks relationship is new, and his past relationship with a model over-shines his new relationship. fans are always asking for jack and his ex to get back together, which leaves reader feeling stuck in a relationship thats not hers.

lyrics: "i saw you were with her only last night, i got caught up by your picture in a headline" & "it looks like you love her online" & "when they want you back together like a movie, then i wonder, is there any room for me?"

Note: for context purposes jacks ex gf is going to be named alice

word count: 1k 

1 year earlier

present day

jackhughes just posted !

jackhughes

Liked by y/nuser, trevorzegras, and others

jackhughes my girl❤️

tagged: y/nuser

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trevorzegras YOU HAVE A GF??

colecaufield u literally knew about this

trevorzegras yeah i know i just wanted to be dramatic

fan01 we want u with alice not whoever this is

y/nuser in love with u actually

jackhughes i love you the most actually

fan02 pls get back together with alice😭🙏 u guys were perfect

hockeyfan01 great now get back on the ice!

fan03 not the hard launch😭 she's so pretty tho😭💗

lhughes_06 congrats man

*liked by jackhughes

aliceoffical

Liked by alanabc, stellajones, and others

aliceoffical on the cover of vogue💋

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dioralice LOMLS SO PRETTY 

fan04 congrats girly💗💗

lilyrose_depp insanely gorgeous

fan05 have u seen jacks new girl? Youre so much prettier u two need to get back together

*liked by aliceoffical

fan06 prettiest girl in the world

y/nuser

Liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, and others

y/nuser early morning⛅️

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes ❤️❤️

*liked by y/nuser

fan07 BREAK UP WITH JACK!!!

yourbff prettiest girl💗 i miss u

fan08 there’s no way he left alice for her😭

fan09 we want our fav couple back

You and Jack had been dating for a few months. You knew he was in a very public relationship with a model before he started dating you and you didn’t mind. Not until you and Jack went public and all of the internet seemed to be against your relationship. You never blamed him for having a past with Alice, but being constantly reminded that nobody wanted to see you and Jack together… It hurt. You weren’t sure why you haven't limited your instagram account yet, or why you didn't just go private. it was hard not getting caught up with what you saw online, and if there were going to be news articles and twitter pages posting about his past relationships, they may as well comment on your page too. 

Jack was away for a game in Alice's home city when you got the twitter notification. 

You turned off your phone and closed your eyes. You knew Jack was still friends with some of his exes, but with Alice it felt different. You knew they were serious before, and you couldn’t help but wonder that if he could, if he’d run off with her. 

There were a bunch of different narratives floating around. Talking about how Alice is Jack's true love, and that they were destined to be together. You couldn't lie, after once again going down a rabbit-hole and looking at all the photos of them together, you couldn’t deny how in love they looked. 

jack❤️: Did you see the photos of me and alice?

jack❤️: I only agreed to meet with her because of all the press. I don't want them talking about us getting back together. I made it clear to her that we’re over

jack❤️: I love you

y/n: I know. It's all just bullshit on the internet. I love you too. travel safe

jack❤️: I love you more. I'm really sorry about all of this. I’ll see you soon

When Jack finally got home things were different. you finally felt good in your relationship after the rough week when he was away.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” Jack reassured you for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

“I just… with Alice it’s different. I don't want you to see her again. It’s gotten worse” you look down at your hands so you could avoid eye contact with Jack.

“The comments have gotten worse?” he asked, sitting up in bed to look at you. 

“Yeah… I just, they want you guys back together so badly. It’s literally like a movie Jack,” your laugh was tense as you told Jack your true feelings. “I just don’t know if there’s room in your life for me,” you whisper after a brief pause and you feel Jack tense next to you.

“Pass me your phone,” Jack said, holding out one of his hands expectantly. You did as told and passed it over silently. He scrolled around for a minute, before showing you your own instagram comments causing  you to frown.

“I know what they’re saying about me” you were annoyed. Did he want you to be more upset?

“No look at the accounts” he said.

“I don’t get it,” you stated, pulling your phone back into your grasp and scrolling through more comments.

“Do you know any of these people?”

“No…” 

“Then what they’re saying shouldn’t matter. I’ve moved on from Alice, i’m with someone who I love” Jack cooed, reaching a finger up to touch your cheek causing you to smile. “There’s only room in my life for you. You’re the one I want y/n. I’m not reading these comments and agreeing with them. I text you, or I come home to you and I think I am so lucky to have y/n in my life” Jack smiles and so do you. He takes your phone back and disabled your instagram comments, and then limits his own. “I’m not going to let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong with me” was all he said as he started playing with your social media settings.

You sat back and admired the man you loved.

In the morning you and Jack laid in bed, your head resting on his chest as he combed your hair with his fingers. you felt so alive when you were with Jack. You could feel the little bubbles of happiness and excitement whenever you were with him. 

you moved to sit up, looking down at Jack you smiled and he smiled back up at you. “morning” he mumbled as he trailed his hand down your shoulder and arm. “good morning” your smile widened as you leant down and kissed him on both of his cheeks. 

you didn’t check your phone for the few days you stayed with Jack at his apartment. you were on a high, and you couldn’t believe how melancholy you’d get when you were feeling low.

[starsandhughes]

Bloody Faces, Bloody Hearts

request: “I would love to see trevor zegras prompt 30 if you want to write it”

prompt 30: “you’re hurt just let me help you”

parings: trevor zegras x reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: injuries, crying, underage drinking, kinda describing a panic attack, pain medication mention, angst to fluff, fighting, arguing

word count: 2.3k (i love writing angst) UNEDITED

(A/N i didn’t specify the team or other player bc i didn’t wanna slander anyone)

Your ever so lovely boyfriend, Trevor, was getting into a lot of fights as of late. But in the span of 5 days, he managed to not only have a physical fight on the ice, but also got into a huge argumentative fight with you.

You were sitting on the couch at Trevor and Jamie’s place trying to collect yourself. You and Trevor got into a screaming match over him going out and coming home late almost every day for two weeks and not making any time to spend with you. You didn’t care about practices, or him going on long roadies, hell you even came with on short ones when you could get out of work. Hockey isn’t, and never will be, the problem. The problem is that you went three days without seeing him other than when he got into bed next to you.

“I think I should go home.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “You are home, what do you mean ‘I think I should go home’?”

“I mean I think I should go home to Michigan for a few days. See my mom, maybe stop by UMich to see Luke. I think we need some time apart to cool down and you need to get your priorities straight.”

He had some words to say about that, but you weren’t listening. He was repeating that you’re his priority in various ways, and the more you packed the more desperate he got.

“So prove it Trevor!” you cried. “This isn’t a breakup. I am not breaking up with you. But maybe you’ll know how it feels to come home everyday without seeing the love of your life and realize you’ve been taking me for granted.”

Your voice got softer as you went on and you reached up with one hand to cup his cheek, “I love you, okay? Always. I just used two Fault in Our Stars terms so you know I mean it.” He laughed lightly at that and brought his hand up to where yours was to hold it.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I love you, too. I’ll see you later.”

It took you almost two days to reach UMich, but you thought having some “not really-but might as well be-little brother” time with Luke would do you some good. The Hughes family is how you and Trevor met, and they were more of your family thank your actual blood one.

‘Hello?’ Luke answered the phone.

“Lukey Moosey! Do you have plans tonight?”

‘No? Why, what’s up?’

“Your favorite person ever just booked a hotel right outside of campus and is stealing you for the night!”

You tried to say this with as much heart and excitement you could muster, but the youngest Hughes saw straight through you.

‘Something happened,’ he said, as more of a statement than a question. You sighed as your response. ‘Is it a “you’re wearing Quinn’s hoodie and we’re drinking” kind of something happened or a “disney movies and pout” kind of something happened?’

“I just drove two days to come home, what do you think?”

‘Don’t get tequila.’

“Jack scarred me too much for me to ever drink tequila again, don’t worry. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

You got a hotel for you and Luke to spend the night in because you didn’t want his teammates around when you just need some Luke time. Plus, you’d rather only be responsible for one teen underage drinking.

Luke nursed a beer while you drank a vodka margarita you made in the bathroom as you told him everything that has happened with you and Trevor.

Luke listened, and spoke as well, to help you sort out your priorities and issues with the situation, and did his little brother duties swimmingly.

You two sat up against the headboard of the hotel bed and put on a Spider-Man movie after you both caught up with everything non-Trevor related in your lives. You leaned your head against his shoulder and pulled your knees up to lay them near his chest.

“Thanks, Luke,” you said low.

He wrapped an arm around you, “any time, y/n/n.”

For the rest of your undisclosed amount of time in Michigan, you spent it at your parent’s house, with some time with your second set of parents mixed in.

The latter is where you were currently sitting on the couch watching the Pregame for the Ducks game. Yeah, you were in a fight with Trevor, but you were still going to root for him.

They had the lead in the middle of second period at 2-0. The other team was becoming more defensive in their playing, as well as more aggressive. And your boyfriend had a tendency to be on the other side of someone’s aggression.

There was a fight. Gloves dropped, punches thrown, blood on faces. And Trevor was not getting as many hits in as the other player.

Fights happen. This isn’t the first Trevor has been in and it certainly won’t be the last. But this one was different. This one was worse. This one was the most violent brawl you’ve ever seen in a hockey game.

Their fight moved down the ice closer to the goal. The other played punched Trevor in the face so hard that he flew back, slammed his head on the goal post, and crumbled to the ground, bending his ankle in an unnatural way.

You suddenly felt extremely hot. Your body felt as if it were burning, your brain was threatening to drop down through your throat and bring you to the ground with it. You stood up when the fight got bad, and your legs gave out when they said he was unconscious.

“Oh my god,” Ellen gasped. You didn’t know if it was in reference to you or Trevor.

“He- he’s…”

Ellen put her arm around you and hushed you softly, “They’ll take good care of him, it’ll be alright.”

You shook your head, “No. No, I should be there. I have to go.”

“Y/N, you’re not in the right mind to drive right now,” Ellen told you.

“I’m not driving. I’m taking the next flight out and I’ll pick up my car from the airport later, I need to be there now.”

Jim and Ellen insisted on driving you to the airport and keeping your car safe at their house. You took the last seat on the flight to Anaheim that took off in the next three hours, and that’s when you finally called Jamie. You got worried when he picked up and said nothing.

“Is it bad?” you whimpered.

‘It’s not great, but it could be worse,’ Jamie answered honestly.

“I have a flight in three hours. I don’t know how I’ll get to you at 3am, but I’m coming.”

‘I’ll see if Mason can pick you up.’

Your flight was agonizingly long, but the wait to board was even worse. Anxiety still flooded your body despite how much anxiety medication you took. Nothing would cure it until you saw Trevor.

Jamie texted you that they were back home from the hospital, because it was bad enough to warrant a trip instead of the PT’s taking care of it, so that was where the very tired Mason dropped you off.

You quickly thanked him and ran out with your suitcase clattering behind you. You carefully unlocked the door and found Jamie dozing off on the couch still fully dressed. You set your suitcase by the door and crept over to the sleeping boy.

“Jamie,” you whispered as you gently rocked him awake.

He inhaled a deep and slow breath when he stirred and blinked tiredly at you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you breathed out a laugh. “What’s the damage?”

“Minor concussion, bruised rib, and a torn ligament in his ankle.”

You winced, “So not great.”

“No, not even close,” he responded, stretching out the ‘o’ sound in no.

You sat in silence for a moment. You knew Trevor was likely asleep, and he needed rest so you weren’t about to go wake him up.

“He asked about you,” Jamie said, looking down at the floor. “The concussion was causing some slight amnesia, and he didn’t remember that you left. I just kept telling him it was hard to get ahold of you and that you were coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done if the memory didn’t come back and you weren’t here.”

You pursed your lips together to refrain from making a choked cry.

“He’s been a mess, y/n. The first thing he did was check for Quinn’s sweatshirt, and he broke down when he saw that you took it.”

“Me leaving didn’t give him enough of a clue that it was serious?”

“I think it just… solidified it, you know? You bring it out when things are bad for you; when you just need a big brother. I think he would’ve gone after you if you went to Vancouver,” he joked.

You stayed silent. You weren’t going to apologize for sometimes needing your family.

“I shouldn’t have left,” was what you got out.

“Yes you should have. I was spending more time with you than he was. You had every right.”

That’s when you broke down in tears. No— tears isn’t the right term, these were wracked sobs coming out of you. Jamie wrapped you in his arms and shushed you as he rubbed your back.

“I need to wake him up for pain meds, and I’m sure he’ll be a lot more cooperative if you do it,” Jamie offered.

“Will you come with me?”

Jamie got up with you and placed a comforting hand on your back as you trekked down the hall to your and Trevor’s room. You carefully sat down on the edge of the bed next to his chest and rubbed your hand up and down his back to wake him up.

“Z,” you singsonged. “Z baby I need you to wake up.”

Trevor grumbled into his pillow and tried to turn over, but was stopped by a sharp pain from his bruised rib. You winced at his cry and helped ease him down on his back against the pile of pillows supporting him.

“Y/N…?” Trevor asked sleepily.

You nodded and combed your fingers through his hair. His cheek was heavily bruised and he had a cut with a butterfly stitch across his eyebrow. For how much the other guy was hitting him, you were surprised his entire face wasn’t purple.

“It’s time for you to take some more pain meds,” you said low.

“You’re here,” he gapped. His eyes were wide, and you couldn’t help but think he looked like Bambi.

“Of course I’m here,” you smiled softly, still petting his hair.

“But you left. I wasn’t- I wasn’t expec… expecting…”

“Easy there, Zegras. Don’t need you having a brain aneurysm over me being in our bedroom,” you tried to laugh.

“You’re here.”

“And you need pain-“

“You’re-“

“Z, we will talk about this but I need you to give me a moment. You need to take your pain medication.”

Trevor must’ve seen the desperate pleading in your eyes through the soft lamp light because he immediately stopped talking. He bit his lip and nodded at you. He put his arms behind him and tried to prop himself up so that he could swallow the pills, but he cried out and collapsed back down. When you reached to help him, he pushed your arms back and slowly shook his head.

“I can do it myself,” he grunted.

“You’re hurt. Just let me help you,” you said.

You two locked eyes for a moment before he nodded again. You heard the door click close, a signal that Jamie had left. You put a hand between his back shoulder blades to slowly lift him up, and helped you push himself back to sit against the headboard with minimal wincing. He quickly took the water and pills you handed him and scooted himself back down a little to be be halfway sitting up instead.

You started to stroke his hair again and he closed his eyes, breathing synced with your fingers combing up and down through his hair. You were silently crying and praying to every god imaginable that you didn’t make a sound, but this was to no avail.

“Oh, hey no,” Trevor rushed out. He cupped your cheek with one hand and linked his fingers together with yours with the other.

“You didn’t get up,” you squeaked out. “You went down, and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. My ears were ringing, my head was spinning, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’m okay,” he whispered, rubbing circles with his thumb across your cheek bone.

“My mind blacked out when they said you were unconscious. I was standing one second, and Ellen was putting a straw in my mouth to drink ice water the next. And I didn’t know anything until-“

Trevor pulled your face down to his level and slammed his lips onto yours to cut you off. When your lips parted, your foreheads were brought together, with Trevor whispering for you to breathe slow with him, thumb back to caressing your cheek.

“I wasn’t out for too long. Troy and Mason helped me off the ice, and Jimmy rushed over to the arena and rode with me to the hospital. Gibby drove Jimmy’s car to the hospital, and we took him home. Everything is okay,” he breathed out. His voice was soft, low, and steady— a wonderful combination to calm you down.

“I was so scared,” you whimpered.

“I know, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Come here,” he motioned for you to lay down next to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said. 

“You can lay on my chest, it’s okay,” he assured. 

You crawled into bed next to him and rested your head on his chest. Your hand came up to lay where you could feel his steady heart and you closed your eyes. 

“I love you,” you told him. 

“I love you, too.”

And with a kiss to the top of your head, you were out.