#huge gif soz

[vibrantgutz]

[raceweek]

[ashes-writing]

all or nothing pt II | stranger things ; b.hargrove

A/N ; Listen.. I was not expecting to have another part so soon but when this idea came, I had to roll with it. So, this is the part in which Billy realizes reader is the only female in a family of males (i realize I mentioned readers mom the previous post but apparently, she is deceased, but anyway.. ) and.. yeah. More stubbornness. More Billy, being equally stubborn.

I feel like this one is gonna get really... intense.

Pairing ; Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; all or nothing pt I can be found by clicking. Highly suggested you read that one first and then come back here. Just so you have a sense of what's happening. This is set in season 2 BUT BUT... as I said last night -and in the other stuff area of the other reader x character stranger things works I've done, there will be no Upside Down + it's unholy terrors, this is basically like.. slice of life heavy on the intensity and maybe some angst in this case. So no.. Billy won't be dying. And his character may or may not go through a few.. Growth spurts because I felt like it could've happened if he'd been left on the show. So.. liberties have been taken, read at your own risk.

Tag List ; @musichealsscars is the only person on my actual Stranger Things tag list presently. I'll throw a tag out here to @rampagewriting -- feel free to ignore if you like bb. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Stranger things , please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; Older and younger brothers + meeting the father, Billy's being stubborn as per usual, reader is equally stubborn, a little angst in the form of reader's not so long ago heartbreak and rumors, Carol being a b*tch about Reader, and just.. Nothing serious, tbh. OH YEAH. AND TITS. TITS ARE MENTIONED. Listen, this chapter is.. Basically chaos.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

The bacon is burning, you can smell it when you roll over in bed. As you start to wake up, the usual morning chaos that is your family and all their noises spill in through the partial crack in your door which flies open unceremoniously with your youngest brother Abel hurrying in.

You roll away from him and try and sweep your arm out to keep him out of licking range because he likes to lick your face to wake you up most mornings. “Abel, kid, no.. Not today, demon.” you grumble as you try and shove your head beneath a pillow. From the wide open door, your older brother Jackson throws the bra you left in the bathroom after your shower the night before right at you and it settles beside your hand. “Get the fuck up, sunshine.” Jackson yells, his voice grating your last nerve because it’s early and all you wanna do is sleep. Finish out the dumb little dream you were having about the way Billy’s hands felt on your ass or his mouth against yours.

“She’s not up yet?” your brother Mikey’s standing in the open door behind your older brother Jackson. “Jesus, what’s she gonna do, sleep all fuckin day? Dad! She’s not up yet! Can I get the cold water now?”

Your father laughs in the kitchen. “Leave your sister alone, you little shit. Get in here and eat. Grub is done.”

“Can you idiots fuck all the way off? I’m gonna get up. I mean, if you wanna see my ass when I get outta bed, by all means, idiots.” you call out to your brothers as you sit up with the plaid blanket on your bed wrapped around your upper body and you try to reach for the AC DC shirt you’d taken off at some point the night before when you got too hot.

Your brothers all bolt down the hall and you let the blanket drop so you have that little extra length to your arm span. After you tug on the thin oversized shirt you grab the jeans and tank top you’d laid out to wear the night before so you can put them on after your shower. And you make your way down the hall and pound on the bathroom door.

But it’s no use. Your younger brother Mikey is in the shower, the radio turned up so high and the shower running full blast, so he doesn’t hear the five times you pound at the door.

“Well fuck you then, little shit.” you roll your eyes and turn to go back into your bedroom to change.

The very familiar rumble of an engine catches your attention just as you’ve managed to put both legs in one leg of your jeans and you’ve nearly toppled over, just managing to catch yourself by the headboard on your bed to stay upright. You peek out through the tapestry that serves as a curtain over your bedroom window and as soon as you see Billy’s dark blue Camaro pull in behind your father’s square body truck, you flatten yourself against the wall and take a few deep breaths all while telling yourself that just because he’s shown up means nothing.

So he kept a promise. There’s no reason for your heart to be all fluttery. Or your stomach to be doing the lazy little flips that it is right now.

You discard the shirt you’d thrown on to walk down the hall to the bathroom and pull on the white tank top you’d planned to wear with your favorite flannel. The only problems is that right as you get your AC DC shirt off, the last thread of hope for the nail holding your tapestry in place over the damned window snaps and the tapestry falls away to one side.

And out in the car, Billy happens to glance up at this exact, precise moment. Not only can he see you totally nude from the waist up, but he can see the various rock and metal posters, the tarot card tapestry, the marijuana leaf tapestry and the christmas lights you have tacked up around the room for extra ambience. 

You don’t see him because you’re standing on the bed and trying to put the tapestry that’s just fallen down off  your window back in place because the old geezer across the gravel road is nothing if not a gross pervy old sort. You’ve just gotten the tapestry back in place when your oldest brother pounds on your bedroom door.

“Yo! You better not be asleep again, sunshine.”

“Fuck off, Jackson, you’re not the boss of me!” you stick out your tongue and flip off the closed bedroom door. You can hear him walking away, but just as you’ve flipped your head upside down and you’re trying to scrunch some mousse into your hair to tease it the way you like, the younger of your brothers, Mikey, he’s outside the door.

“Hey gremlin! You’ve got company. It’s a boyyyy.”

You tense up because all of your brothers and your father are nothing if not intimidating, especially when it comes to you.

“Dad’s gonna grill him and I’m gonna laugh my ass off.”

“Sissy! Your boyfriend is here!” Abel calls out through the door and you palm your face. “He’s not my boyfriend, champ. I’m comin, hold your horses, people.” you call out as you dig around for your left shoe in the chaos that is your room.

After you find the bold red Converse and slip both shoes onto your feet, you grab your backpack and rush out, hopefully before your brothers and your father bring down the Spanish Inquisition onto the head of Billy Hargrove.

And naturally, your brother Mikey is in awe because he hero worships the guy.

Your father is sizing Billy up and you wanna groan because you know exactly what he’s thinking and you know that when you finally get home from working the arcade after school, he’s going to give you a very long lecture.

“Hargrove… Hi. Uh, what are you doin here?” you drag your fingers through your hair as you tilt your head to look up at him, curious. “How’d you find me?”

Mikey’s grin is so big, he’s so proud of himself. “I’m in class with his sister.”

“Step.” Max and Billy say it in unison, glaring at one another quietly. Mikey laughs and shrugs. “She told me Billy wanted to come by today last night at the arcade so I told ‘er where we lived.”

You give him a dirty look when nobody’s paying attention and he gulps.

Yeah, he’s in for it just as soon as the two of you are out of school for the afternoon.

Mikey glances at your father. “He’s the best player on the basketball team, dad.”

This softens your father but only a little. He grins and claps a rough hand down onto Billy’s shoulder. “Basketball, huh? I played back in the day too, kid.”

Billy chuckles. And he’s shuffling his feet awkwardly, same as you. You almost want to laugh because the awkwardness he feels right now isn’t something he’s used to and you can tell. Also, you want to laugh harder because the awkwardness he feels right now is solely his fault.

You didn’t ask him to come by. You never even hinted that you expected him to.

You’d say you didn’t want him to either, but unfortunately, that’d be a lie.

“We should probably get going.” you speak up before your father can get all lost in his own glory days -or alternately, try to put the fear of God into Billy by telling him he’s ex-military and he may or may not have a few screws loose, and your father tosses you a brown paper sack.

“Peeled the orange for ya as usual, sunshine.” your father gives you a hug. Finally, you set off for school with Billy and Max. Almost the second you were all out in the yard, you laugh and give Billy a quiet and slightly apologetic shrug as if to remind him that he’s brought on the events of the morning to himself.

Billy opens the passenger door and Max slips into the backseat wordlessly. You raise a brow. “You could’ve kept your seat, Red.”

“It’s fine. You can sit there.” Max offers, studying you with an intent and curious look as you slip into the seat and settle in. Billy doesn’t blast the radio on the drive like he usually does just to keep her quiet. Instead, to Max’s surprise, the two of you are actually attempting a conversation. It’s full of awkward pauses and banter back and forth, but it’s a side of her stepbrother she doesn’t see come out often at all. As the Camaro pulls to a stop in front of Hawkins Middle, you get out to let Max out and she smiles at you before gathering her backpack and rushing through the doors to the school as if she’s been launched straight from a cannon.

You get back in and the short second or two it takes to get over to the high school from the middle school is filled with this heavy kind of silence. Metallica is playing quietly on the radio and you’re humming along, drumming your fingers against the passenger door.

“Y’know, you’re probably gonna fall like.. Four places in the whole popularity thing.. Right?” you question as the Camaro comes to a stop in the spot Billy’s chosen to be his.

Billy shrugs. Takes a drag from the cigarette he’s lit and laughs quietly. “I thought we talked about this last night, darling. Fuck ‘em.”

You shrug and laugh because that’s all you can do. The second you get out of the passenger seat you can feel the eyes of the collective whole of the female population of Hawkins High staring at the two of you. You stand taller.

The stares and the whispers aren’t new to you. They started when you were a kid, when your mom died and nobody really knew what to say. They continued through middle school when you got labeled a troublemaker, one of the bad kids. They’re still going now, only it’s different and honestly, you’d take the rumors about you circa middle school over the rumors going around about you now.

But you don’t care anymore because you’re over the small town mindset. And high school is bullshit. And you’ve got more important things to do than waste time worrying about what everybody’s saying about you behind your back.

It takes you by surprise when Billy casually slips an arm around you and pulls you against his side. Walks right up to Tommy, Carol and Steve Harrington as if this is nothing out of the norm. You can feel Carol watching you, dying to say something smart but a quick menacing smirk from you has the little smug look dropping right off her face because she’s probably just remembered the fight you two had on the playground all the way back in fifth grade.

The one your older brother had to break up.

“Who’s your friend, Billy?” Nicole gives you a dismissive once over. She’s already thinking of things to say about you when she gets Carol and Tina alone in the girls bathroom inside the building. You smirk right back at Nicole, looking dead into her eyes. Daring her to be brave enough to say it now, with her chest, in front of you.

Billy chuckles. He introduces you with that lazy and laid-back grin.

Carol gapes. “You’re shitting me, right? Her? This is the girl you gave the sunflower to?”

Billy’s all calm smiles. “Yeah.”

“We need to have a serious talk.”

Billy laughs and rubs his chin. “Right. When I ask your opinion, Carol, I’ll let you know.”

Every part of you wants to just walk away for his sake but you’re too damn proud and petty to do it. Walking away is going to make Carol and the rest of the so-called in crowd froth at the mouth and rush to gossip about how you’re obviously afraid.

And you’re honestly anything but.

You catch sight of some of your friends as they show up and you nudge Billy. “I’m gonna go now. Thanks for the lift?”

And you walk away, but it’s not without giving Carol one last smirk.

A smirk that has her practically seething.

And honestly, you can’t wait to hear the rumors she rushes back to start this time around.

Almost the second you’re standing at the locker where you friends usually congregate in the morning, your best friend Katie nudges you and nods towards Billy. “Did my eyes trick me or did you get out of Hargrove’s Camaro just a few minutes ago? Oh my god, you’ve gotta tell me everything.”

You shrug. “He gave me a lift, yes.”

“How does he smell?”

You gape at her and grimace. “Ew, what the hell kind of question is that? What’d y’ think I did, sniff the damn guy? I don’t know!” you laugh and your words trail off.

“So I was right. It wasn’t Keith that gave you the sunflower, was it?”

“Fiiine. It wasn’t Keith. But he’s up to something, K.” you turn and gesture in Billy’s direction discreetly, “ I can feel it in my bones.”

“I say just let it happen. Bad press is better than none at all.” Katie shrugs and you give her a playful shrug. “You’re crazy, K. Seriously insane.” you roll your eyes as you finally manage to pry open your locker door and change out the books you took home the night before for the books you’ll need for class.

You walk past Billy on your way to homeroom but his arm shoots out and you wind up smooshed against his side again. “I’ll see ya after class.”

You shrug. “Maybe.”

“I’ll see you after class.” Billy repeats and it’s firmer. That little roguish smirk playing at lips slightly bruised from the kiss at the arcade the night before.

“I mean, if you want to, who am I to stop you?” you smirk right back, holding his gaze. Defiant.

If he really wants to win you over, he’s going to have to learn that you’re not like the other girls at Hawkins. Or the other girls he knows.

You’ve already caved one time and the outcome was disappointing. This time around, you’re determined to play smarter. To make him do all the chasing and not to give in quite so easy under any circumstances.

Billy’s smirk grows. “See ya then, darling.”

“Whatever you say, Hargrove.” you shrug as you and Katie walk away, disappearing into the homeroom class you share together.

[karajaynetoday]

nothing's going right, and everything's a mess, and no one likes to be alone | jack hughes

author's note: don't ask me how the university semester timeline in this works. i have simply given reader a three week break in march bc why not. this is fanfiction okay, anything can happen 😂 no one proofread this for me so soz for any typos!

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: none that i can think of? but lmk if i've missed anything. soz if the ending makes you mad LOL i do love a cliffhanger

read part one here

read part two here

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

Somehow, the ill feeling of waiting until summer to see Jack again began to fade with each passing day. The itch to text him every time something exciting or infuriating happened to you began to lessen. The thoughts of him when you saw a funny meme he’d like, or your shared favourite foods on special at the grocery store, quietly stopped happening as frequently. 

But then there were the things that didn’t stop. The sharp pain in your chest whenever Jack’s smiling face popped up on your social media feed. The butterflies in your stomach whenever your parents brought him up in conversation, fuelled by whatever the latest updates were from their group message thread with Jim and Ellen. The joy that would wash over you when you heard about a Devils win or a Jack Hughes goal, followed almost always by a wave of sadness that you were hearing about it second or third hand, rather than from Jack himself.

You were the one who’d asked for space. You needed time, you’d said. Given the blow up of All-Star weekend, all Jack was doing was respecting your wishes; but a huge part of you not so secretly wished he’d be a bit more disrespectful and reach out. Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, and your heart wasn’t sure which emotion to feel or where to go next. 

Since kindergarten, you’d barely gone more than a few days without seeing or communicating with Jack in some way. Now you were nearly a month without a word, and even though you were still mad at how he’d treated you, you were craving a return to the friendship you’d become so accustomed to. Jack knew you better than anyone, could basically read your mind with a single look, and although you had plenty of friends at college and still around in Toronto from high school, none came close to the camaraderie you shared with Jack. He was someone you could talk to for hours, or sit next to in silence for the same amount of time, it didn’t matter. With Jack, you could be utterly and entirely yourself, no complications. Now it felt like you were always pretending. And it was exhausting.

It was about 9pm on a Thursday night when you found yourself pushing through that exhaustion to try and complete yet another university assignment. For motherfucking economics. You couldn’t wait until you’d completed all of your compulsory economics credits because it was the absolute opposite of your cup of tea, when it came to academic subjects. This assignment was your last one, and you weren’t sure whether to cheer or cry at the idea of hitting the submit button on the online portal. Maybe you should’ve bought a confetti cannon to celebrate. Or a box of wine. Or booked yourself a flight somewhere fun, given you had a break from classes soon.

As soon as the thought of a trip crossed your mind, your phone began to buzz with an incoming video call. A video call from… Luke. Luke Hughes. 

Your face scrunched in confusion, as you swiped to answer the call, met with Luke’s smiling face and messy curls. 

“Hey sunshine! Long time no see. How have you been?” Luke spoke cheerily. Almost too cheerily. 

You were immediately suspicious and narrowed your eyes at the youngest Hughes. 

Luke was 3 years old when you met for the first time; he could barely remember a life without you in it. Given how inseparable you and Jack were, Luke became your de facto little brother, always tagging along where he could and joining in your adventures. Later on, when he became a teenager, you were the one Luke would come to when he was having issues with his friends, or trying to build up the courage to ask out the cute girl in his math class, or missing his brothers when they moved away. You were his second call after Ellen when he felt homesick at Michigan, and you were his first call when he had fucked up something that he felt his brothers would never let him live down. Emotional support and damage control, with a healthy dose of teasing and laughs thrown in. That was the dynamic between you and Luke. It also meant you could read him to filth when he was lying to you, and your honesty radar was through the roof at this sudden video call.

“I’m fine, Moose. Just trying to wrap up my final assignment before the break without losing my entire mind.” You offered weakly, half-expecting Luke to make a joke about your mind having been lost years ago, but the joke never came.

Instead, you saw the concern flicker across Luke’s face, just for a moment, before he forced a smile.

“How long is your break for? Any plans?”

“Three weeks, and not really. I promised my mother I’d spend a few days helping her with planning for their anniversary party in June, but that probably won’t happen until right before I go back to school.” You chatted absently, hitting save on your essay and standing up from the couch, bringing your phone with you as you moved into the kitchen to make yourself a drink.

You propped the phone up against the vase on your kitchen bench, reaching up into the cabinet to retrieve a glass. 

“Well, you should come visit. We’ve got like 5 home games in a row or something ridiculous coming up. It’d be fun!” Luke’s tone was cheerful, but cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to react. 

You hummed in response, moving slightly out of view of your phone to get some ice cubes from your freezer and a soda from the fridge. 

“Besides, I heard a rumour that you’ve got an airline voucher to use. I’d hate for it to expire or something.” 

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster. Luke knew about the voucher. Did that mean Jack had told him about your fight? 

“The voucher won’t expire for three years. I’m sure I’ll manage to use it before then.” You deadpanned, stepping back into frame to see Luke rolling his eyes at you. 

“Yeah, sure, but will I survive that long without seeing you? Absolutely not. Come on, sugar. Please? Even if it’s just a weekend?” Luke had moved into full begging mode, with puppy dog eyes and everything.

You sighed, fidgeting with the straw in your drink and avoiding his gaze. 

“I don’t… we haven’t talked at all, Luke. I don’t know what he’ll do if I just show up there.” You half-whispered, feeling that all-too-familiar wave of sadness coursing through your veins. 

“He talked about you tonight at dinner. Says he misses you. But he doesn’t want to push, or not give you the space you wanted. But right now, he’s on the couch watching Gossip Girl, so…” Luke stated matter-of-factly, staring you down with a knowing look on your face.

Gossip Girl was something you’d insisted Jack get into when you were teenagers, as long as he “wanted to be called your official best friend”. And The OC. And Gilmore Girls. And One Tree Hill. And basically any other teen drama series you could think of. Collectively, those shows had thousands of episodes, and you always found yourself settling down to watch them whenever you were missing Jack more than usual. You’d never realised before that he did the same.

“Should… should we tell him I’m coming? I don’t want him to get upset by a bad surprise.” 

“Not at all, sugar. Book the flight and send me the details, I’ll sort out the rest.” Luke’s beaming smile made a smile of your own creep onto your face, as you nodded at him and went to retrieve your laptop from the couch to log onto the airline website.

“Now that that’s sorted, I was wondering, what does it mean when a girl asks me what my sun, moon and rising are? Should I be worried? Or is it a good thing?”

– 

Two days later, you were done with your semester and on your way to the airport. Luke had suggested you book a one-way flight, “That way, you can go home whenever you like!”, but you were starting to feel like the whole thing was a mistake. 

Nonetheless, you pushed through those feelings and boarded your flight. The whole ordeal took less than two hours, and soon enough you found yourself navigating the arrivals area at Newark airport. You spotted Luke’s lanky figure, clad in a Michigan sweatshirt, with his back to you. You couldn’t help but creep up on him and poke his side, cracking up with laughter as Luke jumped at least three feet into the air. He’d always been the easiest to scare, ever since you were kids. 

Luke cussed you out, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Missed your face, sugarplum.” Luke murmured, as you pulled away from each other and he rested his hands on your shoulders, studying you. 

“Aw, Lukey. I’d say I’d missed yours too, but we really gotta do something about that hair.” You poked your tongue out as the youngest Hughes brother’s jaw dropped in mock offense. 

You retrieved your bag from the luggage carousel, and headed out to where Luke had parked. The two of you fell into easy conversation as Luke navigated through the New Jersey streets back to the apartment he shared with Jack. 

You managed to bury most of the nerves, but they came bubbling back to the surface when Luke pulled into the parking garage at the bottom of his building.

“Is… um… Is Jack home? Alone?” You managed to squeak out, and Luke looked at you like you were crazy. 

Ever since All-Star weekend, you’d been having a recurring nightmare about Jack and the girl from the messages you’d accidentally become privy to. In particular, it was a scenario where you would come home from wherever you’d been out, and opened the apartment door to find them… entangled, on every possible surface you could think of. You felt yourself starting to feel ill as the images from your nightmares started to flash back into your mind. 

“He’s alone. Ever since… ever since he came home early from All-Star, he’s been alone. None of the… usual visitors have been over. And he hasn’t been going to theirs, either. Not even when we’re on a roadie.” Luke said carefully, and you could tell he was trying not to upset you.

You could also tell that he was being honest. Because you could always tell when he was lying. But your mind was running a million miles a minute. Jack hadn’t… for a month? Because of his fight with you? You loved Jack, but you also knew (despite wishing that you didn’t know at all) that it had been years since he’d gone that long without intimacy. In fact, it was probably the longest since losing his virginity that Jack hadn’t fulfilled his desires. 

Your mind was starting to wander into the gutter, and you pressed your eyes closed to bring yourself back to Earth. All you could do was nod at Luke, before you both hopped out of the car and into the elevator. Luke insisted on carrying your luggage, so you found yourself fidgeting incessantly with your hands as the elevator climbed to the correct floor. 

You trailed behind Luke as he strode towards the apartment door and unlocked it, stepping inside and putting your bag down. He looked back and waved you into the apartment, pressing a finger to his lips. You tiptoed across the doorway, and your heart softened at the scene before you. 

You could see the back of Jack’s head leaned up against the couch, and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing on the TV mounted on the wall. In fact, it was one of your favourite episodes; where Jess comes back and shows Rory the book he wrote, and calls her out for dropping out of Yale. You smiled ruefully as you thought about the parallels between that episode and your current situation with Jack, as the argument between Jess and Rory played out on the screen.  

What do you mean?

You know what I mean! I know you. I know you better than anyone! This isn't you!

… 

This isn't you! This! You going out with this jerk, with the Porsche! We made fun of guys like this!

You caught him on a bad night.

This isn't about him! Okay? Screw him! What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?

I don't know. I don't know…

“Are we Team Jess or Team Rory this time, Jacky?” Luke called out, making you jump. 

“Team Jess all the way, obviously. Where have you bee-” Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his brother, and instead saw you in the middle of his living room.

Jack’s face was a revelation. Confusion, at first. Then the briefest flash of hurt and anguish. Then a smile. Then caution and uncertainty, as he slowly stepped towards you. 

You let a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and quickly moved across the room, clumsily throwing your arms around your best friend. You felt Jack freeze momentarily, almost as if he was shocked at your touch, but that soon passed and you felt his hands slide around your waist and squeeze, bringing your bodies as close together as possible. 

You nestled your head on Jack’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. His thumbs softly rubbed up and down your side, and you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair. You stayed like that for a minute, or maybe longer, relaxing into the embrace.

The sound of the apartment door slamming shut made you jolt, and you rolled your eyes as you realised that Luke had tried to sneak way unnoticed and failed miserably. 

“Hi.” Jack whispered, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands locked around you. 

“Hi.” You whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. 

“Is it still shit hair? Or better now it’s longer?” Jack teased, rolling his tongue between his teeth.

“Better. But only slightly.” You teased back, your hands slipping down to the back of his neck comfortably. 

The warmth of the surprise arrival was starting to fade. The dread you’d felt over addressing your fight with Jack was starting to set in, fast. The guilt you felt for being the catalyst for over a month for not speaking to your best friend was washing over you. Your heart rate was through the roof, and your palms were beginning to sweat. 

Jack sensed your change in mood, and pulled away from you to look you up and down.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to shower? Or take a nap?” He was nervous, too.

“I ate before my flight. And showered this morning. And it’s 11am, so I think I’m good on the nap front. But I do think we should… we should talk. About everything.” You were basically tripping over your words at this point, but Jack’s reassuring nod helped to calm your nerves. 

Wordlessly, Jack took your hand and led you over to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. You sat down and faced him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, still fidgeting with your hoodie sleeves. 

“I’m sorry - “ You both said unanimously, a gentle laughter filling the room. 

“I’m sorry I needed so much time apart, J. It fucking sucked, and it was my fault, and I just didn’t -” You began to ramble, only stopping when Jack leaned over and squeezed your knee reassuringly.

“You only needed that time because I was an asshole, sugar. It’s on me, really. I had no right to treat you like an occasional friend, or something that I shouldn’t prioritise -” Jack paused as you cringed, remembering the text messages that referred to his time with you as “boring family bullshit”. 

“I was thinking with my dick, not with my head, and that’s not fair on anyone.” You shot Jack a weird look, and he looked sheepish in return.

“Quinn… Quinn said that to me. After you told him to tell me about the messages. He’s right, thought. It wasn’t fair.” Jack continued, pausing to take a deep breath. 

“This whole… thing, this life -” Jack gestured broadly at the apartment around you, and you glanced around properly for the first time. Framed jerseys of Luke and Jack’s adorned the walls.Various photos of the Hughes family scattered about the place. The fridge, with a gas bill stuck to it, along with a polaroid of you and Jack from last Christmas. And a photo from your senior prom. And a group photo of everyone from last summer at the lake house, Jack’s mouth open in laughter with his arm slung over your bikini-clad shoulders. 

“It’s all I thought I ever wanted. And it’s amazing, and I’m so grateful. But it’s worth nothing to me, the money, the girls -” You felt yourself involuntarily cringe again. “The fame, the accolades, it’s worth nothing to me without the people that I love by my side. And if those people don’t know how much I love and appreciate them, because I treat them like shit, then that’s on me. No one else. Me.” 

You sat quietly, taking in Jack’s emphatic statement. You weren’t quite sure what to say. So instead, you gently reached over and took Jack’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing softly, for a moment while you gathered your thoughts.

“I know the life you live, Jack. You don’t have to be sorry for it. Playing hockey was all you ever dreamed of, and I honestly can’t blame you for… enjoying… all the perks it comes with.” You swallowed the wave of nausea that hit you, before continuing. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what life looks like without you in it. The last month was such a bizarre experience, and not one that I ever want to repeat, but I also… I need to… Can I be honest?” You spoke softly, glancing up from your hands to meet Jack’s gaze, and he nodded encouragingly at you. 

“I wasn’t just upset because you made me feel like I was inconveniencing you, or cock-blocking you -” It was Jack’s turn to cringe. “I think I was upset because I was jealous. Because that will never, ever be me. And I think… I think I want it to be? Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know!” You dropped Jack’s hand and stood up from the couch, and started to pace the room. 

“Sugar, please sit down.” Jack pleaded, and you paused, looking back at him on the couch. One look was all you needed, and you narrowed your eyes at the smirk on his dumb face. 

“Why are you smirking? I am experiencing emotional distress, you asshole.” You seethed, running your hands through your hair in frustration.

“Tell me more about this jealousy thing. I’m intrigued.” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, and washed over you like sour milk. Your head whipped in his direction and your face must’ve said a thousand words, because Jack’s smirk soon disappeared and he hurriedly stood up and walked over, reaching out to touch you. 

“See, this -” You jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest. “This is why I have avoided this conversation for almost my entire life. Because you think it’s hilarious that we could ever go down that path. That we could ever be something more than what we are. Because I’m not good enough,or pretty enough, or just enough and I never will be, and I hate it. I hate it so much.” Your voice cracked on the last few words, and you felt the hot tears start to bubble out of your eyes and stream down your face. 

Jack didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He pulled you into a hug, bringing his hand up to your face and gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs. 

“Breathe, sugar. You need to calm down.” Jack said quietly, willing you to calm. That just made you cry harder. 

You were about to pull away, when you felt Jack cup your face with both hands, before leaning in to kiss you. 

[atydblack]

"demure" part 2

best friends dad! james x reader

masterlist (requests open!!!)

PART 1

glad u guys liked part 1 because i can not stop thinking about this version of james .

warnings: age gap, cheating, rough sex (not too much smut in this one tho soz), jamie is kinda a dick, everyone is of age!!!

MDNI

---

It had been 3 days.

3 whole days since the night you spent with James and he hadn't spoken one word to you.

In the grand scheme of things, 3 days isn't too long. But when those 3 days are spent longing after someone who is pretending you don't exist it is.

You were frustrated in every sense of the word, and with just over a week until you go back to Hogwarts - you were becoming desperate.

Every one was floating in between the kitchen and living room. It was rare that there was ever a quiet moment at the Potter's which made it even more difficult to find James alone.

You sat with your head resting lightly on Ron's shoulder whilst him and Hermione chatted about something you couldn't even focus on, your mind a million miles away.

Surprisingly, you had barely felt any guilt towards your actions a few nights prior. Every time you felt a bit bad about what you'd done, Ron would piss you off and it all made sense again.

You had even tried to somewhat recreate the incident with Ron, actually trying it on with him every single night but he would just make fun of you or would already be asleep before you'd even had the chance to touch him.

"Y/N?" Ron pushed you off his shoulder. "I said, are you okay?"

"Yeah," you half heartedly smiled. "I'm just gonna grab some water."

"I can get it for you-"

"No, it's fine."

You stood to your feet and wandered through to the kitchen and there he stood.

James was leaning against the kitchen counter, a mirrored image of how he was stood just a few nights ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

A white shirt hung from his body as he had just gotten back from his job at the ministry under an hour ago. A half empty glass of red wine sat in his hand as he spoke intently to Remus.

When he noticed you enter, he stopped talking and his jaw tightened.

He had been on your mind 24/7. The way his hands felt on you, the way he spoke softly into your ear, the way he made you feel.

It was constant, you couldn't think of anything other than James.

James broke eye contact after a brief moment. He muttered something inaudible to Remus before quickly walking past you.

James' heavy footsteps echoed through the house as he almost stormed up the stairs.

Remus nodded his head at you. You couldn't tell wether he was indicating for you to follow him or if it was just a simple greeting.

You didn't care either way, you were bored of being ignored.

Turning swiftly, you padded quietly up the stairs after James.

You were unsure of what exactly you were going to say to him, but something was better than nothing.

The house was huge and you weren't exactly sure which room he had gone into.

You decided on his bedroom.

You slowly opened the big oak door before entering quietly.

He wasn't in there, but it still caught your attention.

A strange feeling overwhelmed you as you took in the detail of the room James shared with his wife.

Jealousy? Guilt? You couldn't quite put your finger on it.

Everything was perfectly clean. On one bedside table sat a picture from their wedding day and the other was a picture of Harry.

Chewing your cheek out of anxiety, you stepped closer to the one of James and Lilly's wedding.

You had always been under the impression that they were so in love, so happy. Yet James had done this.

It almost felt like you had dreamt it all.

The door to the bedroom opened, making you jump.

You turned around to see James stood there with an angry look on his face.

"What are you doing?" James grumbled, stepping forward.

"I-I don't know." You muttered, your cheeks growing red.

"You can't do this, Y/N." He demanded, almost like he was telling you off. "I- What happened between us... it can't happen again."

He was frustrated, breathing heavy with his eyebrows furrowed.

You stood there twiddling your thumbs, unsure of what to reply.

"I fucking mean it-" James began pacing back and forth. "Shit, I could get in so much trouble for this, Y/N, you don't understand."

A ball of anger was whirling up inside you uncontrollably at his words.

A little voice inside your head telling you that he used you, he regrets you, he's embarrassed of you.

"You can't just ignore me!" You spat out. "I'm not just someone you can touch like that and then pretend doesn't exist!"

"I don't have a fucking option, Y/N." He came closer to you. "What did you think was going to happen? This can't be anything."

"What did you think was going to happen, James?" You bit back, sick of him talking down to you.

He was taken aback at your words, veins almost popping out of his forehead as he looked as if he was at war with himself.

"Fuck!" He spat, turning his back to you.

You weren't scared of him, he couldn't just use you and act like it never happened.

"You need to stop fucking doing this to me, Y/N." James muttered.

"I-I'm not doing anything!" You expressed, "I just want you to-"

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, you were pressed up against the wall with his mouth on yours.

It happened all to quickly.

He lifted you up, legs wrapped around him.

James connected his tongue with yours, hands travelling all over you.

"I can't stop fucking thinking about you, Y/N." James muttered against your lips.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you through his trousers as he pushed himself closer to you.

"Your sweet little moans,"

He pushed your dress up to your waist, hands travelling underneath to your breasts.

"Your tight little pussy,"

You let out a gasp as his cold hands brushed over your nipples.

"You think I haven't always noticed the way you look at me?"

In a swift movement he had you pressed up against the wall, ready to take you from behind. Your dress pushed up to your waist and his trousers around his ankles.

"Not so fucking innocent around you, Y/N?"

You must be dreaming. You must have dreamt this whole thing. There was no way your fantasy was unravelling in front of you.

"Do you want this, baby?"

You nodded with no hesitation.

"Words, kitten."

"Yes, James." You groaned. "I want you."

"Good girl." He muttered as he pushed his cock into you.

You gasped, he was much bigger than you'd ever had before.

It took a second for you to adjust but soon he was thrusting into you.

James couldn't contain himself, fucking you relentlessly as you moaned his name over and over.

"Have you been thinking about this, baby?" James groaned, choking you from behind. "I bet you have."

He was like an animal with stamina you didn't know existed.

"You gonna cum for me, sweet girl?"

You couldn't muster any words in response, just a loud moan harmonising with the clapping of him pounding into you.

It wasn't long before you were riding out your high, another unexplainable feeling he'd given you for the second time.

You tightened around him, only causing him to quicken his pace.

"Fuck-" He choked out as you felt his warm cum between your legs, his thrusts slowing down.

You both stood there attempting to catch your breath.

"No matter how hard I try," James said after a short moment. "I can't get you off of my mind."

"Likewise." You muttered.

"Y/N?" You heard a voice from the hallway. It was Ron.

"Shit." You whispered. "You- You stay here."

You quickly tried to fix your hair, pulling your dress down and trying your hardest to act like you didn't have James cum dripping into your panties.

You walked out to the hallway and smiled at Ron.

"What were you doing in there?"

"Just snooping." You shrugged, grabbing his hand and quickly pulling him back downstairs.

-

part 3 will be up tomorrow!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Other Half Part Six

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Notes: This is going to feed into an ask that was sent to me. Just needed to build that bridge, ya know.

Warnings: Some fluff; mostly angst. Soz. Whoops. Not beta-read.

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Minors interacting with this work will be blocked.

Summary: You can’t know what he does—you can’t ever know. You could be in enough danger as it is if you’re ever connected to Bruce Wayne; he can’t imagine the repercussions if you were somehow associated with Batman. 

“So, who is she?” 

Liz asks it with a knowing, cat-like smile on her lips, brow arching. The question raises Bruce’s hackles, but he manages to keep a calm, serene smile on his lips. 

“Who’s who?” He bats back unblinkingly. It takes everything in him to hold still, to keep his gaze on Liz’s, his hand steady on his glass of wine. She doesn’t blink first; she doesn’t laugh it off or change the topic. She waits. For ten long, uncomfortably quiet seconds, they both wait—until her boyfriend asks Bruce to pass the bread, and the date that Liz arranged for Bruce comes back from the bathroom, asking what she’s missed.

--  

“Why are you still up?” 

“Why are you calling if you didn’t want to talk to me?” 

Bruce can’t help but smile. Sure, he’d asked a stupid question, but you sound so damn sleepy and soft. He can just imagine you at his place, curled up in his bed, wearing another one of his borrowed shirts. He leans against the wall of one of Liz’s bathrooms, eyeing the door. 

“I want to talk to you,” He murmurs. “But I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“You didn’t. I was just watching tv.” 

“You sound like you were sleeping.”

“I was just resting my eyes.” 

“Sure you were.” 

“Don’t get sassy with me, Bruce Wayne. I know where you live. Hell—I am where you live.” 

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. If you do, tell Alfred, he’ll—” 

“It’s late. I’m not makin’ Alfred do anything. ‘Sides, if I want anything, I’ll get it for myself.” 

“So stubborn.” 

“Stubborn?” 

“Stubborn, yes you are.” 

“This from a man who rented out an entire restaurant and then took me to Burger King because I said he wouldn’t.” 

“That’s not stubbornness. It’s being decisive.” 

“Well I have decided that if I want anything, I’ll get it myself, and I won’t ask Alfred.” 

Bruce chuckles softly, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. 

“Alright,” He concedes, nodding and looking down at his feet. 

“Are you having a nice time with your friends?” 

Bruce glances toward the door, pursing his lips and considering. 

“Yeah,” He says, “Liz’s boyfriend is nice.” 

“Mind telling the paparazzi that?” 

Bruce smiles. “I’ll send out an email.” 

“Perfect.” 

“‘Liz Wyatt is unequivocally not dating Bruce Wayne’.” 

“Should be enough to satisfy Mich.” 

“Is that what matters to you?” 

“No, of course not.” 

He tries not to find the way you rush over your words so precious. 

“I was teasing,” He offers before you feel the need to explain yourself. 

“Ugh—That is not nice, Wayne. Wake a girl up and you start teasing her.” 

“I thought you were just watching tv.” 

“...I’m hanging up now,” You grumble. “Go—Be fancy-schmancy and rich and attractive with your fancy-schmancy and rich and attractive friends.” 

“Text me if you need anything before I come back. ‘kay?” 

“Not Alfred?” 

“Not Alfred.” 

“I will. Keep it down when you come in?” 

“Sure,” Bruce smiles, shifting from foot to foot. Then, against his better judgement, “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do…Mwah.” 

Bruce chuckles before he hangs up, lowering his phone. He looks down at your contact, and the little photo he has of you there. He draws in a deep breath before he reaches down, unlocking the door and opening it. 

“Shit—” He hisses, jumping as he catches sight of Liz standing there, waiting. “This apartment is huge. Do you not have any other bathrooms?” 

“So who is she?” Liz plies.

“How thin is that door?” 

“Bruce.” 

“...Just someone I’ve been seeing.” 

“Who is…?” 

“What’s it matter?” 

“Explains why you didn’t so much as glance at Cici at dinner.” 

“That’s not true. I glanced at her plenty.” 

“C’mon, Bruce, you know that that’s not what I mean.” She glances over Bruce before proclaiming: “I wanna meet her.” 

“What for?” 

“Because when was the last time you ever dated someone? You didn’t even do that in college. Besides, you’ve met my boyfriend.” 

“And that was your choice.” 

“Are you ashamed of her or something?” 

The question punches him in the middle of the chest, his expression hardening. He’s taken hits from crowbars, guns, and baseball bats that have hurt less. 

“Of course I’m not.” It leaves him with a thread of steel that he’s never heard in his own voice—not outside of the suit, anyway. 

“Good,” Liz’s smile is as bright and as steady as ever. “I wanna meet her. Bring her over here for dinner, we’ll double.” 

“If I bring her, I don’t want this to be an interrogation.” 

“It won’t be an interrogation. It’ll be dinner.” 

Liz is still pointing that smug, satisfied little smile at him. She knows he won’t back down from a challenge, not like this. 

He’s too damn stubborn. 

-- 

Dawn is just beginning to creep over the city as he climbs into bed with you at the penthouse. The room is pitch-black; he can hardly make out your form under the sheets. He feels your warmth as he lifts the covers; he cuddles in close, curling his body around yours. He smiles as you stir, as you press back against his chest and rest a hand on his. 

“Bruce?” 

You're mumbling, and your voice is a little rough in a way that it wasn't on the phone last night. Maybe you had only been resting your eyes when he called, just on the edge of sleep on his couch. 

“Mhm,” He hums, gently wiggling his fingers against yours. 

“You just gettin’ in now?” 

Bruce rests his head between your shoulder blades, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

“Of course not.” 

The lie is as blatant, as plain to him as the nose on his face. But you can’t know what he does—you can’t ever know. You could be in enough danger as it is if you’re ever connected to Bruce Wayne; he can’t imagine the repercussions if you were somehow associated with Batman. 

“Just got up to use the bathroom,” He tacks on. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“S’okay,” You murmur, pushing back against him again. 

“Go back to sleep.”

“Mmmkay.” Your grip tightens on his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. Bruce smiles, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He’ll worry about Liz and everything else in the morning…Well. Later in the morning. 

--  

“You busy tonight?” 

“You sound like you’ve been gargling with rocks,” You laugh, glancing up toward the door of the stockroom. “Are you just getting up now?” 

“No. No, been up before, and then uh…Down again. What time is it?” 

“It’s almost two in the afternoon.” 

“Oh, that’s not so bad.” 

“Frickin’ billionaires,” You mutter, scrubbing your hand over your face. 

“So?” Bruce pushes on, “You busy?” 

“Depends.”

“On?” 

“What you have in mind.” 

“Dinner with Liz?” 

You blink slowly, stunned. Dinner with her? Why the heck would Bruce want to bring you to dinner with Liz Wyatt? She’s all glamorous, and cool, and you’re…You. You work in a store, you’re not like Liz. You’re not even like Bruce. You don’t realize how long you’ve been in your own head until Bruce says, “...Hello? Are you—” The words drift away, like he's looking at his phone, then back in, “Are you still there?” 

“Yes! Yeah, sorry, I was, uh—” You clear your throat. “I got distracted.” 

“So? You busy?” 

“Uh…” You glance around the room, like there’s a good answer scrawled on the wall somewhere. Your mouth works wordlessly for a moment before you manage, “N-no. I mean, no, I’m not busy.” 

“Great. I can pick you up from work?” 

“I should get changed after work, not, uh—My place? I mean, what time does she expect us over? Should I bring something? I can get a—” 

“Okay,” Bruce chuckles on the other side of the phone, halting your panicked questions. “We don’t have to go.” 

“No, we can go, I just—” 

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart.” 

“I’m breathing just fine—” 

“We’ll do it another night—or not at all, if you don't want to.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t wanna go, I just—You know, I’m processing.” 

“Sounds like you’re freaking out.” 

“I’m not freaking out! I’m asking questions. I am asking relevant questions.” 

“You’re also repeating yourself.” 

“...We can go,” You insist. “I just need to get ready.” 

“Alright.” 

“How fancy should I dress?” 

“It’s just dinner at her place, you don’t have to get all…you know.” 

“Well, what are you wearing?” 

“Right now? Not much.” 

“Bruce.” 

“You should come back.” 

“What, right now?” 

“Mhm.”

“I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Alright—Hey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“...It’s gonna be fine.” 

You nod, though Bruce can’t see you. 

“I know,” You agree. “I wasn’t worried. I’m not worried.” 

“You’re doing that repeating thing again.” 

“Really hanging up now.” 

You draw your phone away from your ear, peering down at it warily for a moment. Dinner with Liz Wyatt. What do you wear to a model’s house? What do you bring to a model’s house? Oh, there’s gotta be answers for this all over Quora. 

--  

“You look beautiful.” 

“...Well don’t sound too surprised,” You grumble, straightening your sweater before turning to go back into the apartment. “I need like two more minutes, I just have to get on my earrings and my shoes.” 

“Those flowers for Liz?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Nice choice. She loves carnations.” 

“I know. I did some googling,” You admit guiltily, taking up one of the earrings from the table and putting it in. 

“Are they in a vase?” Bruce tacks in, tapping his finger against the glass of it. 

“Mhm. Keeps her from having to go and find one when we get there.” 

“Clever.” 

“I’m very smart.” 

“I know that.” 

You smile as you raise your other earring, fastening it. You glance back as Bruce cuddles up behind you and pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“...We really don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, brow furrowing. 

“...You’re making me think that you’re the one that doesn’t want to go,” You manage after a moment, glancing back at Bruce. He shakes his head, resting his hands on your hips. 

“I’m just making sure...Guess it’s time you met a couple of my friends, anyway. I’ve met yours.” 

“You’ve met one friend,” You argue, chuckling. 

“Mm. Where is Michelle?” 

“Work.” 

“She know where we’re going tonight?” 

“Nope, I just said we were getting dinner.” You reach out, taking up your jacket from where it’s hung over the back of your kitchen chair.  “If Liz is amenable, I’ll send Mish a selfie later, maybe surprise the shit out of her.” 

“All set?—I’ve got them,” Bruce reaches out, taking hold of the flower vase before you can pick them up. 

“Thanks. Is Alfred downstairs?” 

“Nope, I’m drivin’.” 

“Fancy.” 

--  

“...Is Liz’s apartment like yours?” You ask, shifting in the passenger seat. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just, you know…Big, and…Nice.” 

“Yes, it’s both of those.” 

“Okay.” 

“Why?” 

“Just—Need to prepare myself so that my jaw doesn’t drop when I get inside.” 

“Your jaw didn’t drop when you got to my place.” 

“It was frozen shut at that point...Speaking of which,” You tack on, “Power’s fully up and running again, so I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“...You can stay if you want.” 

“In your hair?” 

Bruce casts you a side-long smile. “I just mean you can stay over whenever you like.” 

You smile, sliding down in your seat a little. “Noted, thank you…And you’re always welcome at ours, though it’s not as nice.” 

“Your bed’s comfy.” 

“That’s true.” 

You glance out of the tinted window, watching the swankiest skyscrapers in Gotham fly by. You feel Bruce take your hand, and a smile unwittingly grows on your lips.

“Shouldn’t you have both hands on the wheel, Mr. Wayne?” 

“I’ve got it,” He reassures. You hum in concession, grasping his hand with both of yours. You close your eyes, drawing in a deep breath. 

“We can—” 

“Don’t say we can still turn around,” You warn. 

“Alright.” 

You open your eyes, tipping your head to the side and watching Bruce. 

“Do you want to turn around?” You offer.

“No.” 

“Okay, so…We’re agreed.” 

You loosen your grasp on Bruce’s hand, sliding down in your seat a little more and resting your head on your hand. It’s a moment before Bruce pats your thigh, then draws his hand back. You’d actually managed to shake some of your nerves, but Bruce’s repeated insistence that you don’t have to go to dinner is making you more and more nervous. You draw in a deep breath and hold it for a few moments before you slowly push it back out. 

“Okay,” You hear Bruce mutter. You frown as he pulls into a street space, and glance around. 

“We can’t be here already,” You frown as he puts the car in park. 

“Listen,” Bruce turns in his seat to face you. Your stomach flips with nerves, and you brace yourself. “I’ve never introduced anyone to Liz—Or, to most of my friends. Not anyone that I've been more serious about.” 

Your brows raise at his admission. He's serious—about you? Bruce reaches out, taking hold of your hand again. 

“I’m sorry if I’m freaking you out," He adds, "But I don’t know what we’re in for, either.” 

“...You’re nervous?” You realize, stunned. 

“Am I not allowed?” 

“Come on, you know that that’s not what I mean,” You mutter. You sigh, looking down at his hand again, turning your hand over in his, intertwining your fingers. 

“...I didn’t even consider the fact that you might be nervous,” You admit. You raise your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. Your nerves flare as Bruce slips his hand from yours, but he takes hold of your jaw, turning your head and leaning in. He gives you a gentle kiss, thumb sweeping your cheek. You smile, patting his cheek as he draws back. 

 “We’re gonna be fine.” 

-- 

Dinner’s not bad—in fact, it’s quite nice. It’s catered. You’d typically ask if there’s anything that you could do to help with prep, but there’s an officious staff of three flurrying around Liz’s restaurant-grade kitchen. Liz is quite nice herself, but she and Bruce can sometimes make you feel a little on the outside. You don’t think they’re doing it on purpose—they have a shared history, a longer history than you have with Bruce. 

On the other hand, Liz’s boyfriend is lovely. He gives you smiles when the two of you are in the same conversational boat, watching as Bruce and Liz chatter on on topics that neither of you are familiar with. He lobs easy questions at you, backs Liz down from touchier questions, and keeps the wine and conversation flowing. You actually start to enjoy yourself, until—

“So you two are going to the gala together, of course.” 

Liz’s boyfriend grimaces, eyes flicking to you apologetically. It seems he can’t back her down from that one quickly enough. Your brow furrows, a smile frozen on your face as you repeat, “Gala?” 

“For the Wayne Foundation! Oh, don’t tell me Bruce didn’t tell you,” Liz glances between you and Bruce chastisingly. You turn your head to look at Bruce. He still has a smile on his face, but it’s that plasticized smile he gave your manager, and accompanied by a tight jaw. He won’t even meet your eye—hell, he’s not meeting anyone’s eye. 

“Bruce,” Liz tacks on scoldingly, “You haven’t even given her time to prepare. She’ll hardly have time to get a dress now—Leave that to me,” She adds, leaning in and resting her hand atop yours. “I know all the designers in Gotham, I’m sure they can rush something by the 21st.” 

“Oh,” You force yourself to laugh, shaking your head, “You know what—He did, but I’ve got work that night.” 

“Surely you can take off.” 

“I really can’t,” You insist. “My manager doesn’t like me very much. She barely forgave me for disappearing with Bruce for my lunch hour.” 

“What!” Liz’s eyes brighten as she leans back. “Oh, I have to hear that story.” 

It’s a safe enough diversion. You feel Bruce watching you; you don’t dare turn to fully meet his gaze, though you glance at him every now and again. Your mouth works on autopilot, but your mind is racing. Was Bruce even going to tell you about this? Or was this going to be one of those things that he does—those nights when he just goes off and acts like Bruce Wayne at before crawling into bed with you just before dawn? 

Frankly, you’re not sure which you’d prefer.

Next Part

[elliebean714]

Oh sweet then do you mind if I request a Nathan Prescott x male reader? Where the male reader is taller and has deep blue hair :>

Yeah totally. I'm gonna assume you ment from lis s1 not bts. I went with general headcanons. They're just easier when I'm not giving tonnes of detail in a request soz♡ Tiny TW for internalised homophobia/general homophobia

Nathan Prescott x M!Reader General Headcanons

Fluff, Small Bit Of Angst

Pre-Game

Okay closeted king over here

I think he'd really like to be open about his love for you with his friends but seeing as they're all rich and privileged, he worries they may see him as something gross and abandon him

The only reason he still friends with people like that is solely for the status, he feels like he has to

I think Victoria is canonically his only real friend so yh

He would definitely struggle with internalised homophobia due to the environments he's grown up in and the people he's surrounded himself with

It would take a very long time for him to come to terms witg

Alrighty onto him as a lover💖

I feel like gift giving and quality time would be his love languages

So obviously because of his family's extensive wealth he'd have no issues with showering you in gifts

Literally whatever you want. Don't even ask he's already bought it for you.

Doesn't need a reason to spoil you he'll just do it to see your lil smile🥺

Also due to his wealth he'd be able to take you wherever you want

Money is no issue when spending time with you is the reward

Okay so I don't think he'd be a huge fan of touching sos

Maybe some times in private he'll let you hold his hand or kiss his cheek

If you're lucky, he'll hug you but not offen so treasure it

He'd hate PDA tho

Not just because of ☆secret gay☆ but in general he doesn't like people touching him.

So maybe be greatful that you can touch him, as minimal as it may be

Probably has no hight preferences

He sees pros of all hights

Taller bfs can hold

Smaller bfs can be hold

Same hight bfs can kiss conveniently

But taller means he has to GET ON HIS TIPPY TOES TO GIVE YOU A SMOOCH

Sorry someone draw that tho cus that's so cute

Doesn't really have much to say on your hair other than

Blue pretty, you pretty.

He likes when the light hits your hair and it makes your head look like a star shower

When he touches it its like he's running his hand through he sky

Or messy morning hair

He'd like to comb through it and make it all soft and perfect for you

Overall 9/10 boyf, eat the rich.

What I Write~

Games

TWD

~Elliebean714

♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆♧◇♡♤♡◇♧☆

[bubblyqueer000]

2gami × short skinny small reader who draws alot

Byakuya Twogami x Small!GN!Artist!Reader

Huge x tiny has gotta be one of my favorite dynamics!! Recently I watched Ore Monogatari and it was so wholesome!! It's honestly one of the best romance anime I've ever seen and if you haven't seen it plllllls do!!

btw I checked the requester's profile and it was their birthday recently!!!! :O

Happy belated birthday @febickxss!! Okie doke enjoy :D

♡ Twogami loves drawing with you!! He’s not quite as good as you are but you can tell that he does his best.

♡ His favorite thing to do together is sitting with your sketch pads/drawing tablets/etc. facing away from eachother and then drawing eachother! So cute!

♡ When you draw him he gets really happy!!

♡ He’d put it on his wall and always bring it up when other people came into his room, like ‘Yeah my S/O drew that ( ͡❛ ‿‿ ͡❛)’

♡ Lmao off topic but why is that emoticon literally Twogami??? To me imposter is just one of those fat ass cats that are like ‘mao give me food pls ( ͡❛ ‿‿ ͡❛)’ IN A GOOD WAY I MEAN!! I love fat ass cats and I love imposter C:

♡ Looks over your shoulder while you draw if you don’t mind it

♡ Sometimes he lets you sit in his lap and draw! His tummy makes the best pillow!! Homie is a human bean bag lmfao. And when you lay sit there drawing he’ll watch you while massaging your shoulders or running his fingers through your hair. 

♡ It makes it even easier to use him as a pillow because you’re so tiny!!

♡ Twogami looooves your size in comparison to his. He’s pretty protective over you and since you’re so tiny he seems to think that you constantly need protection so he always stands near you. 

♡ He loves your little hands most of all because they’re so little in his!! EEEEEEEE!!!! Soz hehe

♡ Sometimes he goes through your sketchbooks without asking like a nosey mother!! Every artist's worst nightmare!! He doesn’t get why you would care since he would never judge you but if it really bothers you he’d cut it out.

♡ One night you fell asleep in front of your desk while drawing. Twogami walks in. 

♡ “Y/N?” He called in a whisper, taking note of the dark room and figuring that you may be in bed. He turned the corner and saw you asleep at your desk, a tiny lamp creating a small source of light which cascaded down your slumbering form which was keeled over your sketchbook. The large man smiles, taking care to make little noise as he stepped across your room towards you, and gently lifted you, bridal style. He laid you down on the edge of the bed, gently taking off your shoes, before laying you down, tucking you in, and getting in bed next to you. 

♡ “Goodnight, my dear.” He said, giving your forehead a small kiss and falling into a deep slumber with you. 

[hexmuscaria]

Two Years Past

Where I've been and the future of this page; ♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

Hello my loves,

It's really been awhile, 2 whole years since my last post! A lot has happened to me during that time. I won't go too much into detail, but honestly I fell into a huge depression. I stopped being able to do anything I enjoyed. It was a really rough time. I felt so disconnected from life, the universe, myself, and anyone around me. It was so hard to even want to keep going.

So, what changed?

Like I said, a lot happened in that time, a lot of moving and fast paced transitions. During the first year, I was so caught up in everything, I pushed my spiritual practices aside. I didn't have a safe space to practice.

Once I was finally in a safe space, I'd say at the beginning of last year, I rebuilt my altar. I began to read and research again. I pushed myself to go and visit nature. I pushed myself to celebrate the solstices and equinoxes. I started to notice all the little things in the world again, and actually began to work with a deity in a way I never have before. Loki entered my life, and turned everything green! Our connection helped me realize the universe is always listening. He taught me rituals to kill the old self and transform into the person I want to become. And so that is what I have been doing the past 6 months, and I've completely shape shifted. :)

The present and the future~

Now that my life has sort of stabilized, not only have I continued my practices, but my motivation to pursue my other hobbies has come back. I would like to post more here for sure, and share the knowledge I gain with you lovely creatures. 🌼

Two years ago, I also had an online shop(kandygurlz) that I ran with my closest friend. She kinda uh, ghosted me 😅 But! I'm not going to let her stop me from pursuing my goals.

Kandygurlz is currently being transitioned to TheHexedMuscaria, a shop that sells nostalgic trinkets, ritual candles(hand crafted uniquely by me), slow fashion, and more!

Here are some of my teacup candles >\\\<

Also here's a few examples of second hand fashion items I plan to sell!!!

[ soz I want to run this shop alongside my tumblr, which is why I'm plugging that here xD ]

Anywho~

I'm really grateful for those of you that stuck around!

I can't wait to see what the future has in store for this page and my shop, and I am glad to be back online :3

Thank you so much my loves, as usual if you have any questions feel free to use my AMA~🩷💚

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

[towl]

Kojirō Nanjō (JOE) ☀️ SK8 the Infinity; S01E09: “We Were Special Back Then”

[zetterbabe]

in the room: zach werenski (11.03.17)

[musette22]

minnie.....MINNIE, MY DREAM LAST NIGHT *clutches chest* HOLD MEEEEEE......

Today in Vix Dreams About Stuff we have: Chris Evans Is The Softest, sleepiest Bean. Seriously, it was an actual physical ache when i woke up and realised that it wasn't real.

Picture this....... (soz, it's a long one):

It's snowing outside when I wake up. I know this because Christopher never draws his curtains. I lie there on my side and watch the huge flakes drift around and then settle on the already snow covered ground. Dodger huffs from behind me, which means that Chris isn't in bed (Dodger always steals the warm spot his Dad leaves when he gets out of bed by burrowing under the covers). I can hear the slight crackle of the open fire at the bottom of the bed, which means that Chris put a few more logs on when he got out of bed. Everything is warm and cozy and perfect. Well, not absolutely perfect because Chris isn't with you and Dodger, but that's when I look up and see my beefcake leaning against the door frame with 2 steaming mugs in his hands with a sleepy, slightly lopsided smile on his perfect face. His sleep pants are slung low on his tiny waist, and he's got the knitted cardigan on and left open that my Grandma knitted him. It's too big, even for him, so he's got sweater paws, and with his hair sticking up all over, and his full beard, he looks like the softest lil' marshmallow, made for snuggles and sleepy kisses.

"How long have you been standing there like a creeper?" I grumble with a pout.

"Shush you," Chris chuckles in return as he shuffles forward and puts both coffees down on my nightstand. He makes his way around to his side of the bed as I roll over and scoop Dodger out of the way as Chris slides into bed next to me with the sleepy pooch between you. Chris tucks both his sweater paws under his pillow and lies facing me, still with that sleepy smile and dear god, he is spectacular close up like this. I can count every freckle on his face. "Hey you."

"Too early," I mutter, and Dodger backs me up with one of his weird huff/snorts, which he does right in Chris' face, as per usual. "See?"

"Well, i have no intention of leaving this bed today so..." Chris yawns, which makes Dodger yawn, which makes me yawn.

"Good," I sigh happily and smoosh my face into Dodger's scruff.

And that's when i woke up to realise that I'm not even on the same continent, let alone the same room as Chris and Dodger.

Kitted sweater paws Minnie. KNITTED SWEATER PAWS AND BED HEAD.

I'M....... *sobs*

Well, holy shit. That is the Chris dream to end all Chris dreams you had there @fishcustardandclintbarton 🤯🤯🤯 (aka 'POV you're Sebastian Stan')

KNITTED SWEATER PAWS. BED HEAD. STEAMING MUGS OF TEA. DODGER.

FRECKLES.

Damn, you lucky, lucky sod. That's one hell of a dream, SO SOFT!!! 💖💖💖💖

[theasstour]

© 2019-2020 / AU / ENEMIES TO LOVERS / COMPLETE Fem!Reader x Harry     -     Total word count: 106.3k

BB ASKS | PLAYLIST | INSPIRATION TAG | WATTPAD (OC)

After your sister breaks both her legs in a climbing accident, you have to step in as a model in her absence. Instead of spending your summer getting ready for your last year of veterinary school, you are now set to spend time in Italy with a painter who has a bad reputation, a permanent frown, and an immense talent. Forced in each other’s company, neither think you could ever hate another person more. However, a whole month, Italian mountain air, summer, and art, might just be able to change your minds. Eventually.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

DISCLAIMERS: 1) If you are under the age of 18, please be aware that this work is not for you. It targets adult themes, written by an adult, for adults. This is nothing against you as a person, but this story will deal with alcohol, sexual content, etc, in short, themes not ideal for minors to be delving into. 2) The main character will have a strong personality. I need to know the person I’m writing. Get over it or don’t read. Lmao. 3) I DO NOT KNOW ITALIAN, hence why I’ve asked an Italian (aka Illaria aka my wife) to help me out with the translations. 4) There will be parts where I won’t translate the Italian for you, this is for the sake of the authenticity of actually not knowing the language spoken. Use Google translate. 5) Body image will be a huge part of the story. If that’s something you aren’t comfortable with, please read with caution. 6) This is an ENEMIES TO LOVERS, meaning it’s gonna be a SLOW BURN. If you want them to fuck right away, this is not the story for you. 7) Asking me to update more often than every fortnight the first four chapters won’t happen. I’m in my third year of university, I have a dissertation to write, I have a life outside tumblr. Any ask requesting me to update more frequently will be deleted. 8) Soz for sounding rude, just fed up with entitled twat anons. ily.

WARNINGS: This story features explicit language, sexual content, violence, alcohol, body image, and triggering topics (anxiety/depression etc.). Read at own risk if you are uncomfortable with any of those. I will warn in advance if a chapter is heavily influenced by any triggering topics.

For any other questions regarding the storyline, characters, setting, etc, do not hesitate to drop by my askbox! Happy reading!

[jisxs]

i should really be packing right now kill me pls but instead i am here, a whole mess, an actual meme who loves dogs, takes ages to reply to messages, and has fucked up her sleep schedule beyong repair ._. or u can call me adri ( she/her, 19 - soon - to - be - 20, gmt+2 ) jisoo's p much the same with a couple of tiiiiny lil changes so !! if you’d like to plot or even just chat ( i need friends :c ) pls feel free to hit me up OR click the lil heart and i’ll slide into your messages instead !!

ok, so i'll have jisoo's bio info HERE and i'll basically leave the rest of her intro here again

she keeps her crime under wraps mostly bc she can see how some of the other students act towards the criminals and ?? she doesn't want to feel like an even bigger outcast

she can be kinda careful around ppl at first – like, if she doesn’t know u or if you’ve just met, she’ll be pretty quiet and introverted but s u r p r i s e once u get to know her better and she gets comfortable around u, she won’t stop talking! generally, she’s pretty soft around the ppl she knows

– if u ask her anything about her family she will straight up lie about it. literally, she will make up smth about a picture perfect family life w caring parents and fun siblings but oops she bought a new phone last week so she doesn’t have any pictures to show u soz

– the type to stop and pet every dog she sees tbh. also the type to slap ur arm repeatedly bc there’s a puppy nearby and omg look at it doesn’t it look absolutely adorable??

– she’s v v curious about the world around her, mainly bc while everyone else was out there doing normal teen stuff, going out and having relationships, she was just…observing silently bc she had no time to do any of that :c make her go out more!! take her to cinemas and theatres, take her ice skating ( and teach her how to do it or just laugh as she falls on her ass like a million times ) or a street performance/festival/market and watch her be completely in awe about everything in sight! she will love you a million times more ( plot idea?? )

– alternatively, bc she’s so clueless, she has no idea what’s good for her and what isn’t. if u take her to a party, offer her alcohol/drugs or suggest smth reckless there’s a good chance she’ll say yes?? just bc of sheer curiosity smh

– tbh, she can be a bit oblivious when it comes to ppl’s feelings at times :// if someone likes her, god help them bc they'd have to spell it out for her

– if she could she’d spend her entire day curled up with a blanket and hot chocolate and marathon movies/tv shows ( she’s a huge harry potter nerd don’t even get her started )

– she’s an art major bc she’s found that it’s the only place she can pour out her emotions freely – most of her paintings are a complete contrast to her personality, all dark and gloomy OR full of pastel colours bc monet's her fave. but!! if she likes u, she’ll draw ur portrait! or she’ll ask u to model and probably make u like … an angel or smth

– but!! this girl can hold grudges like no other! do smth to piss her off and tho she might forgive u at some point, there will always be a part of her that looks at u with disdain

– bubble tea runs through her veins instead of blood

– a HUGE lover of kdramas smh

– she can also be a dramatic idiot who cares more about the most random things instead of actual problems and stuff she has to deal with

potential plots?? someone who got scammed by her dad and lost all their money in the process, childhood ( best ) friends who drifted apart ( jisoo would've been too ashamed of what happened to continue the friendship tbh ), friends to lovers ( bc i'm a sucker for those ), fwb, a bad influence ( teach her how to be a bitch and break ppl's hearts ), flirtationship, saltmATES, enemies, enemies turned friends, best friends, someone she can fangirl about art with etc etc tHE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS and ily

[hogwartselementumrp]

Congratulations Areej on your acceptance to play Rosalie Frisk! You built and brought to life a vivid character in a few words and I sit bouncing with excitement to see want you have in store for her and all of us. Give us the would-be , wanna-be queen.

OOC Information

Name/Alias: unfortunately still me, Areej, and not someone cooler. soz Preferred Pronoun: she/her Age: 18 Timezone: GMT Activity Level: i’m trying my best

Character Information

Name of the Character: Rosalie Frisk (who could’ve seen it coming)

Describe the character in your own words: There is nobody who lives quite so comfortably in the cusp between a delicate, charming English rose and a starry-eyed child as Rosalie Frisk. With her golden hair and golden personality, she commands attention and love and adoration just as easily as air and, like air, it barely touches her. She floats through life effortlessly. Having been doted on from the moment she was brought into the world – not just by her brother and parents but the rest of Mayte – Rosalie is a stranger to hard work, and with the universe itself gravitating naturally in her favor, with everyone willing to make sacrifices for her sake, she has never bent or compromised. But she is not arrogant, she says. How could she be, knowing how little she understands of the world? She does, however, wish to understand it, because with everything else in the palm of her hand, how could knowledge not be? Rosalie seeks answers to questions she hasn’t even come up with yet, even ones she shouldn’t be asking, and this is, in part, why she prefers the company of those older and wiser than her: they have answers. How much she listens to these answers is a different story. Her attention span is short, and when somebody is explaining one thing, she finds herself wandering about another, and then another, and another. It is difficult to become irritated by her, however. An apologetic smile from Rosalie soothes even the most agitated of hearts. But there are flies that catch themselves in her syrup sweetness, and when they do, she can become distant and scientific, watching their struggle with fascination. Suffering in particular interests her because it is so alien. So wildly apart from anything she’s ever been allowed to experience. These moments of innocent cruelty, rare when she was in Mayte, have become uncomfortably common since she’s relocated to Hogsmeade as, in the wake of the war, she only has to glance up to see more human pain than her throbbing heart can take. Perhaps this was why her brother had wanted her to stay away; like any righteous queen, she becomes emotional and passionate when it comes to her people, can weep for hours for them, as long as they know the rivers are made exclusively of her tears. She wants everyone to revere her and her extraordinary compassion. How exactly she’ll manage to gain this monumental adoration from working in a library, however, is something she can’t figure out, and this job bothers her. She’s lazy and used to others spreading the jackets off their backs onto puddles for her to walk on top of. Even the mildest inconveniences were smoothed out for her. Now, her princess lifestyle seems far, far away, and she can’t wait for Lawrence to come and rescue her.

Any changes you wish to make?: Nah

Titles: Your majesty works great

Relationships:

Nerissa – As children, Nerissa and Rosalie spent many days together, though these were filled with Nerissa asking incessant questions about things Rosalie didn’t know herself, and Rosalie rolling her eyes at the former’s childishness, before later going and finding out the answers herself. Now, Rosalie is more in the dark than Nerissa is, which brings an interesting shift in their relationship.

Lucille – Rosalie respects Lucille’s maturity and enjoys spending time with her, completely unsuspecting of the other’s mild resentment of her or her intention to get in her brother’s good books.

Aerwynna – They’re close, I’d imagine, and I think Rosalie would look up to her.

Family Relationships:

Lawrence – Rosalie’s heart broke exponentially every day after her dear brother left her in Mayte, and she’s excited to finally spend more time with him, even if it’s dangerous and difficult considering who he is. She could never believe he’s a bad person with bad intentions. Whatever he does, she’d look up at him with doe-eyes and a bright smile – hopefully, soon, from right beside him, as his right hand.

Parents – There are only two instances in which the youngest Frisk remembers disagreeing with her parents. The first was when she stopped attending classes, and the second when she decided to stop going to Church, and both of these arose from the fact that her parents wanted nothing less than the world from her, and religion and education were, in their minds, the way to achieve this. They wanted her to be happy. Showering her with love, affection and more attention than was probably healthy, they were by far her greatest admirers. Their deaths took a huge toll on her. She refused to leave her room for days, crying buckets, and even now seeks her brother for emotional support.