#and my other pair of shoes is brown which does not always go

[aaaaatillathenun]

Buying new shoes to get me through my money troubles

#personal #i dont even love them a lot #theyre like just straight up chelsea boots with fake leather but i need work appropriate black shoes #shockingly the heeled boots ive had since high school are wearing out #and my other pair of shoes is brown which does not always go

[yooms-posts]

God gave us two hands, two legs, two eyes, and two ears, but just one heart so that we could find the second and today I found my pair in you.

Characters: miles morales (both earth 1610 and 42), gwen stacy, hobie brown, pavitr prabhakar

Pairings: all of them x gn reader (separate)

Reader: gn reader

notes: reader is around the age of the charcaters don't be weird, mentions of fights and blood, reader could be seen as a person who speaks Spanish for miles, contains some spoilers for atsv

genre: fluff with a hint of angst 🤏

_________________________________

Before that look at this edit‼️ ITS SO DKDKOSJSIWB GO SHOW LOVE AND SUPPORT TO THE CREATOR

Miles morales (1610)

he is such a sweetheart fr 🤞

definitely gets nervous and shy when entering a relationship with you

his love language is definitely acts of service, physical touch and giving gifts

is shown in the movies that miles is a very good artist, I'm sure he'll give you a very precious gift made by himself

need help with anything? he's there trying too help, homework is getting difficult for you? he's ready to teach you easier methods

holding your hand to keep you close? you got it babe

i feel like he likes to kiss your forehead as a sign of affection

in moments of vulnerability, he would place his forehead against yours

meeting his parents of course, family means a lot too him

his mom and dad may be wary of you (sorry), but they start too loosen up when you interact with them more

they could tell that you were the right one for miles, and they couldn't be any happier

that was wayyyy before you knew he was spiderman

why? because he thought it may make you view him differently

after all he couldn't keep it from you, you were one of the important people in his life (and he was running out of excuses why sometimes he has to leave earlier on dates)

it was definitely some sort of a shock! being spidermans s/o? crazyyy

have i mention dates when the both of you sit at very high buildings? dont worry he's watching out for you

miles just swinging while you hold him tightly for dear life

helping to patch him up after a fight while scolding him for being reckless sometimes

sometimes he has to comfort you when you realise you could lose him due to his duties

best date views, best atmosphere

the both of you just leaning on each other, wrapped in a blanket watching the sunset? yea thats the life...

both of you making nicknames for each other

he would call you: mi luz (my light), bebé

*if you aren't familiar with spanish, you would definitely pester him and ask him for the meaning

you would call him: lindo (cutie), mi hombre (my man) if your feeling slightly playful, babe

trading clothings is common

his jacket? suddenly your in possession of it, your shoes or clothes that fit him? it's his turn to wear it

lots of photos taken, whether its good or questionable (you accidentally spilled water on him) it will be kept in his phone

Gwen stacy

i remember seeing her and questioning myself fr 🏳️‍🌈

anyways, your very precious to her i dont make the rules

like miles, nervous and shy when entering a relationship but leaning towards nervous

her love language is definitely acts of service and quality time

being spiderwomen definitely brings a challenge to the relationship

thats why quality time is very precious to her, any time your together is makes her happy

it doesn't have to be anyone talking or doing anything, she just want to be with you

acts of service? if you ever mention that you need something, she'll pick it up own her way back

kissing is very rare but when it does happen it always on the knuckles of your hand or on your cheek

inviting you over to her house for dinner, which lead to you meeting her dad, peter and aunt may

of course her dad approves you, he notice how she lits up even more around you

but after the incident where gwen loses peter, she unintentionally shuts everyone out

it causes a riff in your relationship because all you want to do is help but she's pushing you away

it got into an argument between the two of you and she accidentally slipped out that she's the heroine

that was the reason she was pushing you away, scared and afraid you might be next

comfort her, hold her, tell her that you aren't going anywhere, she needs that comfort

the relationship became better and stronger slowly

same thing as miles, you patching her up and muttering she shouldn't be too reckless

dates with her are always exciting, she would be showing you places where only her could acces due to her spider abilities

nicknames are the regular ones between the both of you

you would call her: my girl, babe and wifey (as a joke to tease her)

she would call you: dear, bae

its shown that she leaves her sweater/jackets in other people's room soooo...

yea, leaving her stuff at your room and taking it back a few days later

technically making it yours too, i dont make the rules 🤷‍♀️

Hobie brown

i wish british people are real 😔

i wanna say it would be a 'you fallen first but he fall harder' type of scenario

like it's impossible to not fall in love with him a little

love language? it's got to be words of affirmation and giving gifts

he would be those types who would be able to tell that somethings bothering you

he would reassure you if you ever feel bad about yourself or have bad days, he would be there to boost your confidence

remember how he made his own version of the watch to travel different dimensions?

then get ready for him to present to you self made gifts for you

whether it's like a pin or a accessory, he puts a lot of love and thought into it

he gives me the type to lazily pepper kisses on your face teasingly

but if he needs the comfort or other way round, one of you would cradle the others face and kiss the other

going to shows and pubs for entertainment

definitely invites you to watch his show, if you are there you bet his eyes stays on you

him casually entering your house (with your permission!!) at the most weirdest time

around 2am he's knocking on your window so you could help with with bandaging

the first time that happens is when you didn't know of his secret identity which worried you

fights don't really occur between the two of you since he knows what to say and not to say if things get heated

since gwen sometimes crashes at his dimension, she would have probably meet you

it's like a sibling bond between you and her, you sometime lend her your clothes and she tries to help around in the house

im not sure what his actual age is tho...if you know please tell me, its confusing some said he's around gwens and miles age some said he's 19-20

if he is 19-20, you and him would probably be like the older brother and older sibling to gwen

which later on include miles too (miles heard how kind-hearted you are when talking to gwen)

to be honest, eveytime your with him it feels like a date

he's unpredictable at times, making it exciting to figure out what he plans on the date

nicknames is common between the two of you

his nicknames for you: love, darling and hun (he rarely calls you that, it happens when he is sarcastically teasing you)

your nicknames for him: sweetheart, B (since his name is hoBie yk?) and babe

if your open to different types of clothing style, he would lend you his jacket

the both of you would trade small accessories with different styles to match each other

Pavitr prabhakar

my cutie patotie fr ( not trying to baby him in anyway!! he's just precious in my eyes)

he is so sweet and polite to everyone, so i wouldn't blame you if you fall for him

you know those confession letters? he would probably leave one at your locker

very understanding if you dont feel ready for any PDA at the start of your relationship

physical touch is his main love language followed by words of affirmation

if you are okay with being held, get ready to be held by him

his arms wrapped around your side and arms, he likes to hover near you to hold you

holds your hand almost everywhere and most of the time

he has a way with words definitely, he knows exactly how to make you laugh, how to make you smile or how to jokingly tease you

you mean the world to him, of course he would notice little things about you

definitely giggles when kissing you, whether it's on the cheeks or the tip of your nose

introducing you to his aunt, which she takes a liking to you :)

bringing some food made by his aunt to share with you

you already had suspicion that he was spiderman, you didn't say anything cause he looks so proud when keeping it a secret

eventually it ends up with him spilling it since he gets cuts the next day without proper excuses

which led you to remind him to care himself when doing patrols

proudly showing you off to people, your just amazing to him really

dates with him is very calming and stress-free

like doing each other's face mask or shopping for things together etc

nicknames has got to be cute for you two (or purposely cringy to get the other to not pay for the meal)

his nicknames for you: baby, babe, bae or my s/o

your nicknames for him: pav, my s/o or darling

i feel like he won't mind lending you his clothes, just give him a heads up first

like it could be his tie that you found cute or his pants that fits you nicely

Miles morales (42)

his whole design was just so sick and just so hdisbosjso?!

him and you? yea you wish...that actually came true congratulations ‼️‼️

it takes a long time to be his friend but as a partner? even longer but it's worth it

he just have issues like lots of them, he's got to know if he could depend on you for help

take your time and slowly tear his walls down, show him your trustable and reliable

his language would range from acts of service, words of affirmation and physical touch

physical touch is a 50/50 with him though, you have to reassure him it's fine if he doesn't want to show PDA

acts of service is definitely his strongest love language

for example, if he notice your too tired to do something he would wordlessly do it for you

do the same for him! he would deeply appreciate it

if you ever have bad days, dont worry he would be there telling you interesting stuff to distract you from it

once your relationship is secure and good, he introduce you to his mom and uncle

his mom already had a feeling that he was seeing someone by the way she notice he slightly smile at a text on his phone

when you meet them, his mom would welcome you with open arms

asking you if you have eaten the typical mother things you know?

his uncle though? he intimates you at first, once he notice you were good for miles he let's loose slowly

likes to kiss your hand generally, like the knuckles and palms

if he feels a little more bold, he likes to tease you by kissing the corners of your lips and ghosting above your lips before pretending nothing happened

that prowler business? you were bound to find out sooner or later

he trust you a lot, he asks you too sit down with him to properly explain why sometime he doesn't show up to dates early

that would be a massive relief for you, you were getting worried that he's starting to loose interest

which you have to mess up big time for his trust and loyalty for you to dissappear (don't)

dates would take place at the rooftops, blankets laid down with snacks to watch the sunset

you cant tell me he would have a soft smile glancing at you from time to time while watching the sunset

seeing that his spanish is more noticeable than miles 1610, his nicknames for you are all in spanish

his nicknames for you: mi cielo (my sky/heaven) , mi corazón (my heart)

*if you aren't familiar with spanish, you would probably try and search up the meaning before asking him

your nicknames for him: guapo (handsome), cariño or mi amor (my love)

i feel like he likes small accessories from you when trading clothing

it's like a reminder to him that his yours and your his

probably brings it with him everywhere he goes

________________________________

Wooo im finally done!! If theres any spelling mistakes tell me. I hope you enjoyes yourself. Im thinking of writing more itsv/atsv if i have time. Let me know what you think. :)

#into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #Spotify #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader

[alearicci]

“what the hell, ricciardo?!” – DR3

pairings: daniel ricciardo x fem!norris!girlfriend; daniel ricciardo x girlfriend!reader; daniel ricciardo x y/n

summary: You are the older sister of Lando Norris who is secretly dating his former teammate, Daniel Ricciardo. What will the secrets lead to?

warnings: my grammar 🫣, a little bit dirty talk, secret relationship

note: ask me anything <3

reblogs and comments pls ♡

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You stood in front of a large mirror in your and Daniel's house and looked at yourself with interest. Your reflection looked at you expectantly, a mixture of nervousness and confidence flickered in your brown eyes. You spent hours carefully preparing for this event, making sure that every detail of your appearance radiated elegance and sophistication. Your long brown curls fell to your shoulders in loose waves, framing your delicate facial features, and light makeup accentuated your natural beauty.

Your outfit was nothing but luxury. You were wearing a stunning floor-length dress made of the finest silk, its deep royal blue shade complemented your porcelain complexion. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, emphasizing your slender figure, and a daring thigh-high slit added seductiveness. The bodice was decorated with intricate beads that sparkled under the soft light of the chandelier, as if reflecting the stars in the night sky.

Elegant stiletto shoes decorated with delicate crystals that shimmered with each graceful step completed your look. On your wrist you wore a minimalistic diamond bracelet, the shimmer of which matched the brilliance of your eyes. You have spared no expense in creating an image that would charm and make an indelible impression on anyone who gets in your way.

Today there was a party on the occasion of the recent Grand Prix victory and the last birthday of your boyfriend, the man of your whole life - Daniel Ricciardo. You knew how much he craved it, how he devoted himself to training and came home so tired that he could hardly walk to the shower. Your heart has always ached because of how much he has to go through to achieve heights. Constant discussions, angry comments under posts, wishes about failures at races - does he really deserve this? Your smiling boy, your happiness, your very true love.

Shaking your head, chasing away the unpleasant thoughts that appeared, you smiled tightly and looked in the mirror again. The outfit turned out to be quite good, you really look great. Numerous hours spent in shops and beauty salons have done you good.

Suddenly, out of the blue, there was a knock on the door. You flinched a little, because it was too loud and unexpected.

"Babe?" On the other side of the door, the sonorous voice of your beloved rang out. "The guests will be here soon, are you ready?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm on my way."

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, you can."

Ricciardo didn't keep himself waiting, and a second later the door opened and you turned to him, smiling to the tips of your ears.

"Ooooh shiiiit. It looks like I'll have to postpone the party until tomorrow, and spend time with my beautiful girl today." He said grinning and walked up to you.

Standing in front of you, he first just stood in front of you and looked into your eyes for about a minute.

Devils were clearly visible in his eyes. Devils that simultaneously showed his love for you and desire to possess you.

Dan grinned, oh my God, just from that grin, you feel like your knees are about to give way, then, smoothly lowered his hands to your waist and slowly pulled you closer to him, as if stretching this moment.

He bent down to kiss you, but you gently stopped him by putting your finger to his lips.

"Hey, hey, hey, take your time, baby. I've already painted my lips with my favorite lipstick, so no kissing!" You explained and witnessed how Dan's playfulness quickly evaporated, replaced by a slight bewilderment. He snorted in displeasure and slid down, squeezing his hands tighter on your hips.

"I hate it when you use this terrible invention of mankind. I love the taste of your lips so much, and you paint them with this tasteless lipstick."

"And this was said by my daniel, who ate my raspberry-scented lipstick the other day."

"Hahaha yeah. But at least it was delicious. And in general, I didn't eat, but used it for its intended purpose."

You laughed and grabbed the strong shoulders of your Aussie. He bent down to your neck and ran his nose over it. His hot breath burned your skin and made your whole body goosebumps. Daniel gently bites the tender skin of the neck, and then runs his tongue over the wound and kisses, as if apologizing without words.

You had very fair skin and it was very difficult to hide such manifestations of love. This could be understood by how carefully you covered up the hickeys left by him last night with foundation and how they still remained visible. Daniel himself knew perfectly well that today you would need to attend his party in the status of a family friend, not his girlfriend, but knowing this did not stop him.

Yes. You've been hiding your relationship. You were the older sister of his former teammate, Lando Norris. As Ric himself likes to say and repeat, he fell in love with you from the very first meeting, but did not dare to admit this to Lando, and to you, of course. Maybe the reason was that Lando took great care of you as his own sister and often jokingly threatened his friends that if they became victims of her love torments, his revenge would be cruel. Or maybe he just couldn't figure out for a long time what he really feels for you.

But at the moment, you've been secretly dating for almost a year. It's amazing how it happened that neither the media, nor the family, nor Lando himself have yet realized that you are together. For them, you continued to be good friends. It was in your favor, because another reason for a secret relationship was just the same media. They are often the cause of the breakup of many couples and it happens that they watch couples too closely. So you continue to work, pretend and live in your secluded house when Daniel is free from racing and training and when you are not busy with your work.

"Oh my God, Daniel!" Finally, you shout jokingly. "Stop biting me, soon there won't be a place on me where there won't be traces of your bites, Ricciardo!"

"Honey, you mean you don't like it? In that case, you need to learn how to lie. You're doing pretty badly right now."

"You're insufferable, Dan."

"I know. And you love me."

"Yes. I love you."

"I know, my beautiful. Well. I will say that you helped me with the selection of the costume, if anyone has questions about how you ended up here among the first." He finished, but continued to hold you in his hands.

"Again, again a lie."

"I know, honey. I hate lying. And, wait a minute, it's practically not a lie, you really helped me pick up this suit."

You smiled warmly and rested your head on his shoulder.

"I'm waiting for the moment when I can officially call you my girl in front of everyone." he said in a hoarse whisper and kissed the top of your head.

"But then my beloved brother will look askance at us."

"Oh my God, I've already endured these looks when we were on the same team, because I often overtook him."

"Hey, he's good too!" you pretended to be indignant and lightly hit him on the leg with your knee.

"But no better than me."

"No one can compare with you, but Lanny is very good both on and off the track."

"Will anyone meet us in this house at all?" A voice was heard from below and you instinctively recoiled from your lover. The grievances belonged to Dan's good friend and his current partner, Max Verstappen. You immediately thought that he probably didn't come alone, but with his girlfriend Kelly.

"Oh, Maxie. Let's go meet."

"Danny. Are you sure? Maybe I'll come out later?"

"He knows that you and I are good friends, there will be no problems. Let's say you're very punctual."

♡♡♡

Time passed, more and more guests came. You and Daniel kept an appropriate distance, no hands on the waist, kisses and other things that could reveal your secret. It was hard, even if it has already become a habit for you. You really wanted to touch him, feel the warmth of his hands, hear the scent of his expensive cologne. You really wanted you to be an ordinary couple.

You've already gone down too and managed to say hello to many who came. First of all, you approached Daniel's parents, who came to celebrate their son's triumph. You were in a very close and trusting relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Ricciardo, they treated you as a close family friend. But they didn't even know that their son was head over heels in love with you.

Grace, Daniel's mom, recently, "in secret", said that Daniel likes you. At that time, you had already met, so you couldn't help but smile shyly and thanked the kind woman for this secret. Now I have to hide a secret from her.

Now you were chatting with her on the sidelines from everyone and she was telling you a funny story from Dan's childhood.

"Can you imagine? Then he firmly decided that he would become a racer. I'm afraid my heart just won't stand it soon, he's working so hard in training and taking risks on the track that I'm not moving away from sedatives."

"Ooooh.. Mrs. Ricciardo, as I understand you. Sometimes you want to hit him on the head with a pillow and..." for a moment you were silent.

... hug him and say that you are very worried.

... kiss him and tell him that you will always be there.

"I... Tell him to stop making his beloved mom nervous!" You finally finished the sentence and laughed along with Grace.

"Oh, you're right, my dear."

"Oh, Mrs. Ricciardo, I have to leave you for a while, I need to powder my nose." You really urgently needed to go to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

"Of course, no problem, sweetheart. I'll go find something delicious for now."

Daniel, who was standing nearby and talking enthusiastically with George Russell, who was also invited to the party, heard that you said you would go to the bathroom.

He realized that this was his chance to be with you for a few minutes.

When you excused yourself to go to the toilet, the urge became too strong to resist. Daniel carefully followed you, his heart pounding wildly. When he saw you disappear into the lavish lavatory, Ricciardo carefully followed you, making sure that no one noticed his departure. He found you standing at the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Unable to contain his longing any longer, he cautiously approached you from behind, hugging you around the waist. You flinched slightly, surprised by his presence.

"I couldn't be in the company of these celebrities anymore. I needed to feel you in my arms. Moreover, I can clearly see how my mother sees you as her future daughter-in-law."

"Danny, you can't go on like this! We have to behave ourselves tonight. Not us, but you!"

"Oh. I know, but seeing that you look so amazing here, all I want to do is hold you to me. Just for a moment."

"Okay, just for a minute. But we have to be careful.

You hugged each other tightly for a few stolen moments, cherishing the intimacy you craved madly, knowing that you would soon have to part again.

Ricciardo tightened his embrace, feeling the warmth of your body on his. You stood there for a few blissful seconds, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Then he gently kissed you on the forehead, and then went down to your cheeks and lips. But none of you guessed what would happen next.

Meanwhile, Lando also decided to go to the bathroom to fix his tie. Disappointed with the way it sat on his collar, he yanked it, muttered a few playful curses under his breath and headed to the bathroom to get a dose of confidence from the mirror.

To his surprise, he saw Daniel and you, his friend and sister, in a passionate embrace. Lando's eyes widened and a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he said, leaning against the bathroom door and folding his arms.

Hearing the voice of your beloved younger brother, you abruptly pulled away from Daniel's lips and felt a blush appear on your cheeks.

"Oops," Dan said jokingly. "I'll explain everything now, Lando. "Ummm... I just came to help y/n with... her dress. It had to be fixed, you know?"

You intervened with a shy smile:

"Yes, yes, the lightning got stuck, and Daniel, being a gentleman, came to the rescue!"

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by the story, but couldn't help but make a joke.

"And the kiss became a payment for help? Come on, guys. Don't make me regret introducing you to him, Miss Norris!" Lando exclaimed, no longer holding back his laughter.

"Uh... yeah?"

"Of all the people, it had to be my former teammate and my sister? Damn God, how long have you been dating? Do not deny that you are dating, otherwise I will definitely swear."

"Almost a year," Daniel replied and smiled his trademark smile.

"Oh my God, sis, I thought we should share everything!"

"Sorryyy."

When they returned to the event, Lando couldn't help but grin mischievously, teasing Daniel: "Just remember, Ricciardo, I will always watch!"

Winking, Dan cheekily replied: "Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less, Norris!"

#f1 imagine #oneshot #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #formula one #drabble #dr3 x reader #dr3 #daniel ricciardo supremacy #daniel ricciardo x reader #danny ric #ric3 #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #lando norris #nor4

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Two: I Think I Wanna Marry You

a/n: here’s chapter two of my purely self-indulgent fun, which shouldn’t be taken very seriously, if at all fic. haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: hugely unedited; mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

-

-

The move itself brings a second dose of reality you never fully thought through.

Seeing Steve there, with his dark BMW, sunglasses on his face. He’s popped the trunk already and it’s with that sudden clarity you’re reminded that it’s happening.

That this is real and not some dream you’ve imagined in your mind.

You’re marrying him. In four weeks. Thirty days, exactly. A countdown to the next three years of your life. The other half of your “paperwork” you’re going to sign when you scribble your name along that certification of your marriage.

You work in comfortable silence. Robin and Nancy come along too for assistance, and with the combination of efforts, Steve’s car is packed in less than two hours. You’re shocked he’s even bothered to do it himself, and not order some sort of moving company. But when you point that out to him, he only shrugs and says he wanted to help.

Apparently it’s the least he can do for getting a wife at the end of all of this.

That and countless zeros on a check that he doesn’t even need or want.

Once your things are all settled in the trunk and backseat, Robin wanders over to where you both stand on the sidewalk, arms looping tight around your frame. She steps back and moves to tousle Steve’s hair, earning a sharp jerk of his body out of contact and an utterance of complaint from the taller man.

With a snort, she says, “You love me, don’t deny it.”

And he does. You know that much. He’s been closer with Robin for a year or so now. A direct result of her relationship with Nancy. Nancy’s job as a journalist, often documenting his life or the accolades of his family, has established a bond between the three. You try to tamper that slight jealousy.

The fact is that both Robin and Eddie have more insight into the man you’re marrying than you do.

You were always too busy, after all. Working or deep in your own studies and missing out on the many evenings Steve invited them all to join him in his outings. You suppose you’ll rectify that soon. There’s a lot two people can learn in three years—if he’s open to it, that is.

That awareness of truly not knowing him settles in as you clamber into the passenger seat, thumb sliding awkwardly over the band of your engagement ring to fiddle idly. He turns the dial on the music, something pop and current, and you lean back against your seat, letting the quiet of the morning wash over you.

You wake some time later to the sound of Steve’s voice in your ear, announcing, “Hey. We made it.”

Sleep lingers in your eyes as you shift in your seat to take him in. Dark eyes greet yours, sunglasses tucked into the neckline of his shirt. Your gaze then slides to the imposing building on a side of the city you’ve never really ventured outside of your coffee date with him some days prior.

It stands proud, tall and looming, with workers at the ready, prepped with carts for your things.

“They’ll take care of bringing everything up, and I thought maybe we could grab a coffee,” he suggests, moving to open his door. He tosses the valet his key and waltzes over to your side, opening the door for you. “How does that sound?”

You’re suddenly aware of the state of your clothes. Nothing more than a pair of baggy mom jeans and a striped tee shirt. Some white tennis shoes that are veering on brown in some areas from overuse.

Then there’s Steve, in dark wash jeans and a shirt you know likely still cost him a small fortune. Effortlessly handsome as always with a Chanel watch strapped around the wrist extended toward you.

You take his palm, nearl tripping over the bump of the curb as you go, your side thumping against his. He curls you there instead of letting you go, an arm around your shoulder, waving to the workers as they shift and swirl around you.

Keeping up appearances already, you suppose.

One pauses to dip their head your way, beaming brightly, asking, “It’s the girl from Instagram. Congratulations, Miss. Or rather, soon to be Mrs. Harrington.”

The name drops something akin to cool dread in your stomach. But you smile all the same. “You know what they say. When you know—” You tip your head up to look at him, gripping him by the jaw and giving him a soft wiggle. “You know.”

In your palm, Steve forces a grin. A little wild, a little smushed and silly, but the worker smiles all the same and wishes you both a good morning. Leaves you standing beside your soon to be husband on the side of an unfamiliar street, in an unfamiliar new town, ready to walk into your unfamiliar home.

“Coffee sounds good, actually,” you decide, wanting to be anywhere other than stuck in the awkward silence of the moment, and follow him down the sidewalk.

-

By the time you return, Steve’s been alerted that all your things have been brought up to the penthouse. Coffee in hand, you walk through the swirling doors, standing as close to Steve as humanly possible without truly touching him. There are people there to greet him, realizations in the back of your mind that he must be well-known. Amicable and kind, they offer warm welcomes to both you and your future husband as you’re led to an elevator that brings you all the way up to the top floor.

It’s from there, you’re brought into the place you’ll be spending the next few years. But what greets you is far greater than you even imagined. Endless floor to ceiling windows that overlook the cityscape. High, vaulted ceilings, impossibly white walls. Dark furniture throughout the living area, the kitchen. Against the living room wall rests the largest television you’ve seen, presently off, though Steve turns it on to allow some music to play and break the awkward silence as he walks you around.

He’s already told you the general layout of his space: two bathrooms, multiple bedrooms, a fully decked out personal gym, movie area, dining area, outdoor patio, a study that also poses as his office, a library. It seems impossible to have this much space, and yet the further into the suite you walk, the more real it becomes.

“Seems not lived in, though,” you comment out loud, taking in the impressively clean place. Especially knowing Steve doesn’t spend much time at all here. “Like there’s all this space and nothing to fill it with.”

He huffs out a laugh, not disagreeing. “You can spruce it up if you want. I’ll give you my card. Whatever you like to make it feel like yours. Because, well, it is yours.”

“Yours, mine, and ours, right?” You awkwardly laugh, walking over to look out the windows and take in the bustling city below. “It’s amazing.”

“It’s…yeah, you know, I guess it is.” He sidles up next to you, peering out where you are. He frowns, contemplative. “I guess I don’t think about it often. I wake up to it every day.”

Another stark reminder of just how different your lives are.

“How was wedding planning with my mom?” he asks, drawing you attention to his face. His fingers card through his hair, his feet carrying him over to the kitchen to pull out a glass. He adds a second, asking, “Anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” you say, hands clasped behind your back as you join him. “We went over color schemes. I ended up with pale pinks, lavenders and a tiny pop of gold. More so the accents. We will be looking for a dress tomorrow. Kind of shitting myself over that one.”

“I can come—if you want?” He suggests, holding your glass in front of him.

“Isn’t that bad luck?” you tease, taking a sip.

“Pretty sure that’s only at the wedding.”

“Right.” The wedding. In thirty days. “I mean, if you wanted to come…”

“I’ll be there,” he promises, opening his phone and showing you the calendar app. “What time?”

“Your mother got us a private appointment at twelve. I told her she didn’t have to do that but—”

“She’s excited. She’s getting a daughter out of this. Sometimes I think she wishes I’d been a girl,” he laughs, though there’s a hint of bitterness there you don’t miss. “Here—let me show you your room.”

You trail after him in silence, eyes taking in everything you pass. Boring, empty walls. No pops of color. No personal photos. Nothing indicative of life. Not even a shred of memorabilia from his childhood, or something of sentimental value from his boyhood. It seems odd, though you don’t press him on it. Instead you allow him to bring you through the tour, before stopping in front of a closed door.

“This,” he says, tapping on the exterior, “is my room. In case you ever need me. And here…”

You walk further down the way and stop in front of another door. “Will be your room. All your things will have already been moved in. You just have to unpack and make it yours. I do have some work I need to get to now, but I’m around if you need me.”

“It’s the weekend…” you point out, fingers around the door handle.

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “But with all that’s going on, I want to make sure everything is taken care of before the wedding and our honeymoon.”

Honeymoon.

Right.

To that private island in the Maldives.

A honeymoon for two people who are most definitely not intimate and, therefore, should not be spending money like this is anything more than a mere sham.

Still, your flights are booked, accommodations made, and itinerary is set. It was the first thing his mother had done other than figuring out what color palette you preferred.

“So, uh, I’ll talk to you…later then,” you say, shifting awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Yeah, later.” He nods.

And suddenly, you’re Cinderella once more.

Standing there in that doorway, in her too-big home, with that pumpkin instead of a carriage.

-

Though you’ve never spent much time fantasizing about shopping for your wedding dress, it never quite looks like what you see around you now.

For starters, you imagined your mother would be there. Kind, bright and smiling. There to tell you how beautiful you look, to coax you through your nerves, to remind you that this is the most special day of your life coming up and to just enjoy the moment.

But it’s not. And you’re left standing on a pedestal in front of Mrs. Harrington, your father, sister, Eddie and Robin. Further off in the distance is Steve, phone against his face as it has been since you woke that morning.

Steve’s always busy, you soon realize. In the private car to take you to the boutique? He had a work conference call. In the kitchen while you ate your breakfast? Another phone call. Now here, while a bridal attendant works with his mother to find you some options to try on? He’s got some major meltdown to help sort out.

You understand, and yet there’s a slight sting there you’re not expecting. The idea that he said he would be there for your try-on session, but he’s not really there. Not emotionally, at least.

“Still can’t believe you got Eddie to come,” Caroline laughs, elbowing the man in question as he snatches her up and shakes her vigorously. “Stop it, asshole—”

“Caroline!” your father snaps, leaning back into the couch cushion as another attendant passes out glasses of champagne for all present.

They even manage to find some juice for your sister, so she feels involved with the process.

“So, we picked a few beautiful pieces. A lot of these are brand new, so you won’t have to worry about someone else wearing the same dress—”

“Oh I’m not concerned about—”

Mrs. Harrington clears her throat, waving her champagne flute in the air. “Only the best for my future daughter in law.”

You shoot a weak grin Robin’s way.

Eddie gives you a reassuring thumbs up, arm still around Caroline’s neck despite her protesting.

The next few hours are a whirlwind of trying on dress after dress. Fancy beading, endless lace, plunging backs, dramatic trains, striking silhouettes.

You’re decked in beading from head to toe, diamond encrusted gowns, gowns that look like they’re better suited for royalty than on the girl who grew up in Hawkins. Who worked at her little hole in the wall restaurant and had a normal, unglamorous upbringing.

It hits you as you’re standing there, with a veil that looks to be studded with expensive jewels, staring at your own reflection that this isn’t you. None of these are. And even if you’re marrying someone to help them fulfill a will and to secure a debt for your own self, there’s a part of you that wants to do things your way.

If you’re going to get married to Steve Harrington, you want to feel like yourself while doing it. “Do you have something more…simple? Classic. Understated, maybe?”

The bridal attendant looks to your future mother-in-law like you have grown five dozen heads, and the look your mother-in-law then gives you tells you she is agreeing with the same sentiment.

Her gaze wavers, shifting over to where her son is pacing in the background, before she shifts back to where you stand on a podium.

The girl in a fancy ball gown that feels like a costume more than anything else.

“What are you thinking, sweetheart?” she asks, and you blow out a heavy breath.

Your guests shift on the couch awkwardly as you hop off the podium and peruse the dozens of racks. You point out the ones that seem more comfortable, more like something you would have picked up on your own even before all of this. Simpler designs, classical silhouettes, subtle beading.

All in all, you end up in a stunning a-line princess, v-neck wedding gown with thin straps and a pretty lace detailing along the low back.

A minimalistic veil is placed at the back of your head and draped around you like a billowing halo, trailing down the pedestal and onto the cream carpeting below.

Behind you, Eddie whistles.

Caroline snaps photos on her phone.

Robin’s shouting, “Holy shit, babe.”

And when you turn around to your father and future mother-in-law, you know you’ve made the right decision in trusting your gut. Both have snatched tissues from a nearby tissue box and dab ceaselessly at their eyes, sniffling audibly.

“You look beautiful, honey,” your father says around a sob.

Bottom lip wobbling, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Mrs. Harrington waves in her son’s direction, calling over her shoulder, “Steve, look at your bride. Stop being rude.”

When he turns around, there’s a moment. A brief one, you think, where he pauses. Maybe it’s a realization he’s making a huge mistake, the understanding that he’s going to have a wife in a few short weeks, the idea that he’s giving up his future for three years. But there’s a thought, however fleeting, where his eyes widen and you wonder if it’s actually none of those at all.

Without a name to place that emotion to, you simply swallow and mutter softly, “Well, what do you think?”

Eddie leans against the couch, fingers draping over the plush back as he asks out loud, “Yeah, Stevie, what do you think?”

It’s a threat.

Veiled.

There’s no danger, not really, but Steve swallows all the same.

Wavers a bit as he looks to Eddie, then back to you.

He swallows again, and says, “You’re beautiful, honey.”

Disappointment sinks like an anchor of dread, because you wonder if he even means it.

-

Cake testing a week later fares no better. You’re still getting used to your new routine. Waking up early to an empty home in an empty room that hardly feels like yours. Steve’s usually off to sort out something with the business, while you’re left to your own devices.

Which means phone calls with the wedding planner, pictures sent back and forth between Steve and your future mother-in-law about decisions made, which Steve always just sends and thumbs up emoji back to, and trying to make sense of a wedding that only one half of the couple has been privy to.

Sure, he’d been there when you picked out your dress. But he hadn’t been for the floral arrangements, for figuring out what the bridesmaids will wear as well as the groomsmen. And he’s definitely not there when you’re presented with options for musical entertainment.

So it comes as a shock when he does end up coming for the cake testing. And since he’s free to do so, his mother stays home, suggesting it’ll be an intimate moment for you two. Something about how the cake is important.

You hold back your biting remarks about how it’s just a cake, and instead thank her.

Whine a bit on the phone to really sell the fact that you ‘miss Stevie’—in case she doubts the validity of your engagement. She’s not really shown any indications of such, but you’re growing more mindful of the importance of appearances.

Because it’s in that first week your name pops up in the popular pages of instagram and other social media platforms. There’s even a TikTok of you walking on a busy city street with Steve and Eddie, where people bring to question if you and Steve are already fighting based on your body language.

Though, you do suppose there’s some weight to their remarks. In said video, you’re standing closer to Eddie than Steve, and Steve’s phone is in the hand nearest to you. The one they suggest he should really be holding if he’s as in love as he is. It sounds ridiculous, but it does make sense.

In their eyes, you’re more likely to be dating the famous rockstar based on body language alone than your fiancé.

Wedding planning should be butterflies in your belly, heart eyes for days, wrapped up in one another sort of affection. Steve and you, on the other hand, are two people walking side by side and yet not together.

You understand you need to change that. So as you walk down the street that evening on your way to the bakery, you mutter out, “Hold my hand.”

“What?” He’s typing on his phone, as always. The sound of keyboard clicking meets your ears, before he locks the screen and slides it into his pocket.

“Hold,” you say. There’s a little extra bite this time, “my hand.”

He exhales. “Why?”

“Because you’re in love with me and we’re getting married in less than twenty days,” you remind him.

Less than three weeks. Just under that, really. A thought that immediately has your skin prickling with nervousness and anticipation. Three weeks until you have a new name, a new husband.

“And we’re on our way to our cake testing,” you add, lacing your fingers through his. “People have been talking about us on social media.”

“Saying what?” He leads you down a side street, and then another.

“That we look uncomfortable with one another. That it seems like we must be fighting, because you don’t show me any affection in public—”

“I’ve been—”

“Busy, I know. But they don’t know that, so they’ll fill in the blanks when applicable,” you explain, giving his palm a light squeeze. “So I think we should get used to the public displays of affection, don’t you? I mean, we’re going to have to kiss at the altar, for one. And then there’s the dancing at the reception. Photos. Events.”

“I guess you’re right,” he agrees.

“I know I’m right,” you joke, allowing him to open the door for you to the building.

-

“Cake testing can be intimate. This is one of your first meals as a couple, so it needs to be representative of your relationship. The two of you. The love you share,” the cake maker explains, her hands waving to and fro in the air like she’s painting a picture.

You glance over at Steve. He offers a shrug, likely just as uncertain as to what the hell this lady is getting at. “Pardon?”

“You want a cake that is representative of your love. A symbol—if you will.”

“It’s just a c—” Steve begins, but the older woman narrows her gaze darkly and he clears his throat. Uncomfortable. “Honey, why don’t you handle this one?”

“Oh, but darling, you’re the cake connoisseur.” You pat the hand holding yours affectionately atop the table, forcing a megawatt grin on your lips.

“Is that so?” Madeleine asks, cat eye glasses sliding lower down the bridge of her nose. “In that case, did you have any ideas for what you imagined the cake at your wedding to look like?”

Steve’s hand nervously grows tighter around yours. You hiss at the throbbing pain that develops there when your knuckles smash together. The grasp immediately loosens, a thumb coming to slide gently over the sore areas.

You choose to ignore the rush of heat that swoops low in your belly, though.

“Well—I pictured…a cake,” he expresses lamely.

“What my dear fiancé means to say is…we’ve been so caught up with the rush of wedding planning we haven’t given it much thought,” you giggly airily, faux coyness filling your tone. “You know how it is. We’re just so excited to spend the rest of our lives together. So we were hoping maybe you’d be able to suggest some options for us.”

Because you’re also not sure how to tell them your cake needs to be representative of a mix of high levels of shame and “I was drowning in debt and Steve offered assistance, so long as I become his wife.”

Madeleine huffs and gets to work.

Later, the two of you stumble back onto the street with a cake picked out and designed to Madeleine’s liking. A red velvet center with some endless swirling flowers along the exterior in the color scheme of your wedding.

“A cake reflective of our relationship,” he mutters, shaking his head as he reaches for your palm once more. “And what was that? Sacrificing me to her?”

You bat your eyelashes prettily, shrugging. “My idea of a cake is a boxed Pillsbury one. I figured you were the closest to an expert we would get. Also—you nearly broke my hand there.”

“I was stressed,” he argues, though there’s a hint of a smile curling his lips. His thumb does another one of those low sweeps that has you pausing in your footsteps. “But that was a little ridiculous, wasn’t it?”

You bark out a laugh, following him down the still unfamiliar streets leading home. “A little? I don’t know where your mother and the wedding planner found her. It’s a cake. It’s literally a cake we’re going to have one bite of before the caterers feed it to the rest of our guests.” A shudder ripples down your spine at that. “Our guests. Weird to think, huh?”

“Less than three weeks,” he muses, the two of you crossing at a streetlight. “Still feeling okay with the whole thing?”

“Okay? That's still to be determined.” He waves to someone in passing. Likely a neighbor, you assume. “Backing out? Absolutely not.”

-

One thing you definitely didn’t consider in this whole…fake marriage plot with Steve, is the concept of bachelor and bachelorette parties. You are obviously well aware of the typical fanfare, have been in numerous weddings as it is, but there are no parameters or guidelines in place for a wedding that has been planned in thirty days in an effort to rush to the altar.

So, you leave that part of the wedding planning up to your friends.

And somehow the end result is a joint party.

What could possibly go wrong?

“Holy shit, Steve.” Robin’s head falls back as she enters your bedroom, mouth dropping open, taking it all in. It’s the size of both your rooms combined back at your old place. “At least you got a nice place out of all this.”

You shrug, dropping down onto your bed. Fingers splay across the sheets, soft and cool beneath. Against your closet rests the white jumpsuit you’ve decided on for your party. A sleeveless number that cinches at the waist and a sweetheart neckline that cups your breasts sumptuously.

Pretty.

But there’s the dawning realization that tonight all the attention will be solely on you and Steve.

So what do you do?

-

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve groans, wincing as his shot goes down.

“Actually, it’s probably one of the best I’ve had,” Eddie exclaims, clapping you both on the back.

The sting of tequila burns in your nose. The flowing sash across your chest that says Mrs. Harrington rumples when your arm reaches over to place the glass back down on the countertop. Robin’s there to adjust it, grinning despite your sour expression.

“Wow, look at you two,” she coos, pulling out her phone to snap a photo. “For your story. They’ll eat it up. Plus, better to get all the cute pictures now, instead of when you’re both drunk later.”

Steve pulls you closer to take a photo, grumbling. “We are not getting drunk.”

-

“Steeeeve.”

You’re drunk.

“Yeah, honey bunny.”

Aaaaand so is he.

“F—” You hiccup. He laughs, leaning bodily into your shoulder. “—uck. I’m gonna kill Eddie.”

Even though Eddie’s only responsible for your first drink. Not the second, or the third, fourth…you’re not sure where you’re at now.

There’s at least an awareness that it’s enough; enough to have the room spinning when you sit down, and Steve beside you like an anchor in a shaky sea.

So when he moves to stand, your fingers curl around his wrist and drag him back down again. “No. Don’t go. We’re…to death do us part.”

“Till,” he corrects, snorting playfully. “You’re gonna see me everyday for…three years.”

“But there’s so many people here. Soooo many. And most of them are your friends,” you whine, clasping your hand in his as he leads you back out further into the people spread out along the private rooftop. “You have soooo many friends. Did you know that?”

He simply laughs, just as Eddie’s voice breaks over the noise all around you. A loud shout of, “The soon to be newlyweds should do the next round of karaoke!”

“Edward Munson, you little s—” Another hiccup. Shit, you think, we’re giggly drunk tonight. “shit. I’m gonna beat your ass like I did when we were kids.”

“It’s like something out of a fuckin’ romcom,” Steve later whines as you’re both pushed onto the stage by a bunch of cheering friends. “And they picked our song already.”

“Oh no, which one?” You slur a bit on your words, one ankle rolling like a baby deer.

Steve grasps your bicep to steady you. “Marry You by Bruno Mars.”

“Nooo,” you moan, hiding your face in his collar bone. Shit, you think, I’m a flirty drunk tonight too. “Think we can escape our own party?”

One glance out to your awaiting guests tells you that’s not at all a possibility. Steve’s there, overly affectionate now that you’ve got a crowd, with a hand on your lower back, pulling you close.

To anyone else, you’re a couple celebrating their nuptials in the next few days.

To you, you know he’s laying it on thick.

Making sure there is absolutely no question as to the validity of your marriage.

Especially with potential co workers around, with those who can easily talk rumors in the halls, who might wonder why the speedy engagement and rush down the aisle in the first place.

“One song,” you shout over the crowd, over Steve’s shoulder.

And then, in a puff of breath against his ear you whisper, “Make it count, hubby.”

-

“It’s a beautiful night. We’re looking for something dumb to do. Heyy babyyyy! I think I wanna marry you!” You sing.

If you can consider it that.

To Eddie it’s screeching or a shrill wail, a high pitched thing that makes everyone around you wince.

There’s interference with the mic that has Eddie’s eyes slamming shut against the sharp pang against his eardrums.

“Think we should stop them?” Robin asks out loud, watching Steve awkwardly bob and sway beside you, never really sure of what to do with his body when it comes to music.

“No,” Eddie chuckles darkly, leaning back on his chair. “Those idiots are involving us in a literal crime, so we’re going to have our fun with it.”

“Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice? Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you,” Steve continues, and it’s clearly not up to your standard, because you grab his arm and wiggle it frantically.

“I am marrying him!” You giggle over the microphone, extending your ring to the crowd. “Can you believe it? Mrs. Harrington.”

“Oh no,” Robin mutters, gripping Nancy’s hand beside her. “She’s giggly now.”

“She’s fucked up. She’s going to kill us in the morning,” Eddie grumbles.

Robin’s eyes widen as Nancy says, “I really feel like you two should stop them. Because Steve just grabbed her and now they’re, uh, making out on the stage—”

Robin jumps to her feet. “Oh fuck.”

-

You wake in the morning to a bunch of tiny needles stabbing your skull. Like someone took a jackhammer to your brain and pushed an on switch.

Brain practically groaning in your head, you lift yourself slowly into a sitting position and moan at the throb that rolls down the nape of your neck and down your spine.

Wincing, you kick your legs over the side of the bed and insert your feet into the slippers on the floor down below, sighing at the immediate comfort.

The penthouse is full of chatter. Voices mill from the kitchen, soft despite the clanging cymbals you’re convinced are in your brain. And there, at the kitchen island, stands none other than your two (ex) best friends and your soon to be husband, cups of coffee held against their temples, shame ebbing from their forms.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Robin coos, turning around to gauge your expression.

You don’t miss the shock of brows curling high on her forehead, nor do you miss the tick in Eddie’s cheek as he fights a smile.

“I must look like shit,” you grumble, sliding into the kitchen between the group, uncaring as your shoulder brushes Steve’s. There’s already an iced coffee for you on the countertop. Steve must have ordered, you assume, fighting the flutter in your chest at the thought. “I feel like shit. Very unsexy shit. People keep talking about my bridal beauty, but I feel very much like a bridal beast right now.”

Robin shakes her head, hand on your shoulder. “No, you look fine, you look—”

“Like you’ve had better nights,” Eddie says nonchalantly, earning a cough from Steve to his left.

“I’m sorry, it seems like your invitation to my wedding was rescinded. So weird,” you say brightly, leaning against Robin’s shoulder, pinching your eyes against the bright kitchen lightning. “You’re no longer my best friend. Maybe you’ll fare better with Steve here.”

Why did Steve get a building with white walls as far as the eye can see? You also decide your first purchase will be curtains to block out the natural light coming through the large windows covering the entirety of your living room exterior.

“Tell me you guys didn’t have fun,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “Unless you don’t remember much of it. But it looked like you were having fun.”

The thing is, you remembered every moment.

Every interaction with your guests, every brush of shoulders from your soon to be husband.

Every fleeting glance.

Every look over the top of your glass.

The way your heart danced in your chest as he led you onto that stage.

How his fingers had curled around your own as you sang that ridiculous karaoke song.

How his lips had felt when he dropped a hand to the small of your back and tugged you flush against his form.

The way his heart thundered against yours where your sternums pressed together.

The warmth of his palm.

The heat of his breath as you breathed one another in.

The fullness of his mouth against yours, gentle brushes at first that soon grew passionate.

Heated.

It had been scalding.

A burn that simmered.

A burn you relished, wanted to fan into flame, wanted to foster in the moment.

Just a silly, stupid, alcohol-fueled moment.

It means nothing.

Nothing.

“I don’t really remember much after we left here,” Steve says.

He stares at you. Eyes locked on your face. Imploring.

Eddie and Robin shift your way, too.

Curiosity brims, and your heart aches.

You open your mouth. “I don’t really remember much either.”

Seven days.

You’ll be a wife in seven days.

Don’t get it twisted now, you remind yourself.

-

-

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #modern!steve harrington #fake husband!steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington modern au

[danikamariewrites]

hi i was going through your eris x bratty reader fics, im literally obsessed with them, and i was wondering if i could request eris saying no to the reader after she asks him to buy her smthn and the reader just starts bawling her eyes out be he's never said no to her🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ this would literally be so funny, reader would literally be so confused, like what’s no??? what do you MEAN no?????

Did You Just Say No?

Eris x reader

A/n: I love brat tamer Eris 😚

Warnings: bratty reader

Taking you shopping was supposed to be a reward. For you because you managed not to behead any of his advisors this week. And for him to see that stunning smile of yours. Eris loves making you happy, but today he felt like conducting a little experiment.

Eris didn’t punish you earlier this week for acting bratty. He just reprimanded you a little and promised you anything you wanted if you were good until Friday.

You were in the last shop before you and Eris were to go back to the Forest House. A small yet very expensive boutique in the city. You had already picked out an exquisite dress, a pair of shoes to match, and a few other things.

Eris had no idea what you could possibly have left to buy but he waited patiently. You skipped up to your mate holding a beautiful autumn brown tunic with small leaves embroidered on it.

The garment was draped over your arms as you came to a stop in front of Eris, giving him your sweetest smile. “Can I please get this one Eris?”

Eris seemed like he was contemplating his answer. Which was odd. He always said yes. Eris looked you dead in the eyes, face straight and said the worst word ever to you, “No.”

You were so taken aback you physically stepped away from him. Your face contorted in sadness and anger. Your mind was running a million miles a minute, trying to comprehend what Eris had just done.

“What?” Your voice breaks and your eyes narrow at him. “What is no? What do you mean?” Internally you’re panicking. Is this how he’s ending your relationship? Does he not want this dynamic anymore? You weren’t sure you could change, Eris has treated you like a princess since day one.

“No, you cannot have it.” On the inside Eris was praying to the Cauldron you didn’t make a scene right now. Maybe a public place was not the best idea for this experiment.

“Well, why not? You said I can have whatever I want?” Your voice was slowly rising with each word. “Is that not an option anymore?” “No, you just cant have this particular thing. You’ve had enough today.”

Ass soon as the words left his mouth Eris realized it was the absolute wrong thing to say. Your eyes went wide and you couldn’t help the sob that came out of your mouth. Tears started falling fast.

“Do you not want me any more? Just tell me you don’t love me anymore Eris! That’s better than no!” You tossed the tunic onto the chaise lounge in the middle of the boutique, crossing your arms and turning from Eris.

The other patrons kept shopping but occasionally snuck looks at the two of you. Eris was shocked by your words. Of course he loved you, how could he not? You are perfect to him.

Eris lightly grabbed your shoulder, spinning you to face him. “My love,” he says softly, “I will always want you. How could you even think that?” You sniffled, “Because you said no. You never say no.”

“Love, I didn’t know you’d react like this. I’m sorry. Of course you ca get whatever you want.” You stopped crying and leaned away from Eris, a bright smile on your lips. “Yay! Thank you!”

You pecked his cheek and collected the the tunic from lounge, speeding to the cashier to put it with the rest of your shopping.

Eris shook his head. He was happy you bounced back quickly but her was sure you’d give him an attitude about this later.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra acotar #eris x reader #eris acotar #acotar eris #high lord eris #eris x you #eris x y/n

[draftsandrecs]

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader finds herself crushing on her sister’s ex boyfriend after they run in to each other years after the break up.

Word Count: 4,670

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

Taglist: @jbbarnes-dog-tags

‘And substitute regular milk for oat milk please.’ 

You type a quick ‘okay’ to your sister as you head to the coffee shop that you frequent almost every day. Today’s weather is sort of gloomy but nice. Lately it’s been rainy, mild showers and light thunderstorms. Your favorite kind of weather to have a latte while accompanied with a book. You scrub the bottom of your shoes against the coffee’s welcome mat to prevent tracking in mud or leaves. 

“Good morning, welcome to Aristocrats!” You thank the familiar barista as you head to the counter pulling out your phone to order both drinks.

“What can I get you?” The barista asks with a smile on their face.

“Can I get a hot vanilla latte with 2 shots of espresso and oatmilk?” The employee mumbles the order back as they input it into the system as you continue.

“I also would like an iced chai latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup instead of vanilla. As well as one shot of espresso, thank you.” You put your phone away as you get your wallet out from your bag.

“$15.28, cash or card?” The barista asks as you hand them your card to swipe.

You find a few dollar bills stashed in your bag as you drop it into the tip jar.

“Thank you, just give us a few minutes.” Handing you the card back you put it back into its usual spot as you crumble the receipt into the bag.

One of the reasons why you love this coffee shop isn’t just for the drinks but the book collection they have along with the scenery. It’s located downtown with windows that face the street that pour in natural light. The owner kept most of its natural architecture. Which included the layout, windows that surround the building on two walls, as well as the little fireplace that runs on cold days. 

As you wait for the drinks you browse a few magazines near a table before you find one that peaks your interest. You situate yourself near a bar in front of the front facing windows to take advantage of the light that projects in. You flip through the first couple pages not caring for the luxurious ads of Gucci or Louis Vuitton. You never understood why anyone would spend thousands on a bag. You ignore the bell above the door that signals a customer as you continue reading about a woman’s divorce and her advice. While you have never been married it’s interesting to read about people’s lives.

“Here you go, hot vanilla latte and an iced chai.” The barista sets the drinks down as you reply with a thank you. 

You look towards the counter as you spot a man ordering. Something along the lines of an americano. Typical. Men never go for good drinks. Reaching for your drink you realize you forgot a straw. Getting up you head to the side of the counter to grab one. As you begin to reach for one another, one hand is trying to grab a cocktail straw for their drink.You quickly retreat your hand back apologizing. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You say, embarrassed as if you were in his space. 

“No troubles, you’re fine.” You turn to him finally getting a good look at him as he does the same.

“Oh shit, hey kid. How’ve you been?” It’s Bucky, your sister's ex-boyfriend. His eyes light up as he smiles at you. Like he’s excited to see you. 

“I’ve been good. I finished up my last semester early. In December I graduated well. I didn't walk but I received the diploma which is just as good.” He crosses his arms as he listens to you furrowing his eyebrows that he always used to when listening intently.

He smiles as he lightly pats your upper arm in congratulations, “Hey that's great, really, you find any jobs or anything yet?” 

“No, I mean I have but the pay is so shit that it’s not even worth it.” He nods understanding the job market has plummeted. 

“I get that, if I hadn’t secured the job I have now a few years ago I probably would be back in school not knowing what to do.” Bucky came from an affluent family. His family always had money due to businesses, properties, and of course trusts and estates. His comment comes off a little tone deaf but you know he means well just trying to relate.

“Thanks,” he says as he grabs the drink from the barista as he begins adding a little packet of heavy cream.

“You stay around here? Or often?” He questions out of curiosity but also a small part of him hopes you say yes.

“Oh yeah. I moved back in with my parents after college. I mean- I don’t have a job so I really had no choice.” You hope you don’t sound like a complete fool of yourself. No job, living with parents, and your daily activities consist of getting coffee and reading.

“You’re still figuring it out, there’s no time limit.” His words comfort you, making you feel less alone. Even if he can’t exactly relate, it’s still nice to have someone understand your struggles.

Bucky continues to ask, “If you got a few minutes, you mind if we sit and catch up?” You smile and nod, letting out a small yes as you lead him to your little nook.

You're laughing at some story he’s telling from a recent event he went to where a kid found drawing on the walls of an art exhibit. 

“Oh no, did the parents do anything?” You ask taking a sip of your mostly watered down chai.

“God no, remember these people think that their kids can do no wrong. Instead the dad threw him over his shoulder as they left quickly.” His answer made you shake your head wondering how parents never discipline their children.

“What have you been up to? Last thing I heard you were supposed to be taking over the family business.” The family business was just that- business. It was just managing properties, selling, and trading. But it brought in so much revenue. It’s the most popular realtor company in the state along with locations in neighboring states. It was started in the 40’s by Bucky’s great great grandfather and has now succeeded multiple generations.

“I have, well not entirely. I told my dad that I wanted to travel some first before settling with the job. Once you’re in that position all you can do is live for work, live to work. It just seems exhausting.” He sighs as he runs his hand through his short hair.

“You know I have a degree in Architecture, and I want to put that to use but my dad keeps pressuring me to take over the business. The money is good-

You cut him off,“But is it worth it? Money is great but if you aren’t happy with your job or what you do, no amount of money can compare to your happiness.” 

“Yes, exactly. I’ve been sort of going back and forth on it but maybe I just need to go with what I want rather than what someone else wants.” Saying the quiet part outloud made Bucky realize that he wants to do what makes him happy regardless of money or fortune.

“You know you’re pretty insightful for your age. I wish I was like that when I was in my early 20s. But you seem so grounded. That’s very admirable Y/N.” The compliment causes your heart to skip a beat. You usually don’t get too many compliments, especially not on your mental or emotional intelligence.

“Thank you, it’s probably the books and because I’m the youngest child.” Your sister and you have a 10 year age gap that didn’t really help form a sibling relationship until you entered high school.

You weren’t planned which resulted in a little bit (a lot) of negligence from your parents. They had albums of pictures of her, always went to her events, and constantly doted on her. You were the youngest and the last. You were often thought of last. If you wanted them to make it to your events, school lunches, or any activity they'd send your grandparents. Which you became very close with at a young age because they noticed the difference between you and your sister. They never made you feel like a burden or second thoughts. You’ll always be grateful for that. Your parents apologized to you when you were older but the childhood trauma still stuck. 

“I forgot you guys did have an age gap. I guess it’s more noticeable when you were younger.” His comment glides over, not caring to bring up your sister, his ex-girlfriend. Which you’re kind of happy about since he asked to catch up with you and he genuinely meant it. 

 Before he can get another word in your phone lights up, your sister is calling. 

“You need to get that?” Bucky asks, noticing the screen.

“Yeah probably.” You sigh internally knowing that the coffee catch up is ending soon.

You swipe on the screen as you hold up a finger to give you a second.

“Where are you? It’s been an hour, I thought you said you were just getting coffee, not running errands.” Her voice is a little upset and can be heard by Bucky which makes you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, I ran into someone and wanted to catch up.” Yeah her ex who you seem to be getting along with a little too well.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know where my coffee was. Or you.” The last part was thrown in quickly to save herself. You know she doesn’t mean to be rude but that’s just how she can be.

“I’ll be home soon, sorry for taking so long. I didn’t realize how long I was out.” You really didn’t mean to take so long but the conversation lasted longer than expected.

The phone beep indicates a hang up as her reply.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got to go. But it was really nice seeing you again.” You stand up to gather your belongings.

“I really enjoyed it. I had a nice time, I really needed it.” Bucky meant what he said. It had been a while since he had a genuine conversation that wasn’t about work or mundane questions.

“Maybe we can catch up again, I mean I obviously don’t work so I’m always free.” You're hopeful that he’ll agree instead of it just being a one time occurrence.

“You have my number still? Or can I get yours?” You shake your head not remembering if your phone transferred his contact from the last time you updated it.

 He grabs his phone to unlock it and lets you type in your number. Once you save your contact you head towards the door,“I got to run, but like I said just message me whenever you’re free. I can always make time.” I can always make time for you is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue instead. 

“For sure, I’ll text you soon.” He promises as he watches you walk out of the small coffee shop knowing he’s already forming a liking to you. 

It’s been a few months since you ran into Bucky at the coffee shop. Since that day you guys had been messaging non stop. Which quickly turned into late night phone calls that made your stomach hurt from laughing and cheeks sore from smiling. You only get together once a week since he’s still helping his dad and it took up most of his day. But he never fails to call or message you throughout the day to let you know what he’s up to. You’ve learned a lot from each other these past few months. He loves classic cars, museums, and fashion. He doesn’t care much for the bars but will go when his friends plan to. He designs a lot and is great at drawing too. He enjoys taking you out to museums, botanicals, and lately since the weather is better he’s taken you on hike trails. In return you’ve introduced him to books you enjoy and have started listening to audiobooks together. You’ve also found out how to make your own coffee. Bucky has an espresso machine in his condo that he never used. But together you guys figured out how to make your favorite drinks. Though you still go to the same coffee shop for convenience. It’s been a week since you’ve hung out and you expect a hangout session is due.

It’s morning when you get an unexpected call from Bucky. You answer without hesitation excited to hear his voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you sit on your bed anticipating his message. 

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he has a smile on his face, which you picked up quickly through the phone calls how his voice and facial expressions match.

“Nothing, just at home.” You look over at the clock next to you flashing 9:52 a.m.

“Would you be opposed to packing a bag and going to the next state over?” At first you thought he was joking until he said “you there?”

“No, I mean yes that sounds fun.I’d love to tag along” You say quickly gathering yourself. 

“Perfect. I can be there in an hour. Just got to drop off a few things for my dad and I’ll be on the way. You won’t need much, just a few things to last a night or so. Oh and pack a nice dress, I want to take you on a date.” Your heart flutters at the word date, he hadn’t used that word yet, neither have you. It was sort of a weird territory but this solidified there is more. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” You hang up letting the phone fall on the bed as you rush to get ready and pack looking forward to the night. 

You arrived around a little after 3 in the next state. But since you couldn’t check in until 4 o’clock Bucky showed you a few places around the city. You ventured into antique shops, locally owned book shops, and of course you had to try a coffee shop. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted and insisted that you had to pick out at least one thing that he could buy you or else you couldn’t leave the store. You opted for a few books (it was five in total of hardcover books you could never find near you and were too expensive to order online). He seemed pleased to be funding your reading addiction. 

You check your phone’s time making sure you’re not late getting ready. Bucky said to be ready by 6:45 and you’re cutting it close at 6:30 trying to finish a few makeup touch ups.  And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. Bucky left the room an hour ago so you could get ready in private. He didn’t want to intrude on your space saying that ‘I know how women are. My mom always enjoyed getting ready alone because she didn’t want to feel rushed.’ He was right, if he was in the same room you’d feel like you would have to get ready quickly. 

You curse trying to get your heels ons as you lace up the second heel trying to secure it as much as possible so you wouldn’t fall. As you’re finishing up and repacking your makeup to clean up the area the door clicks open as Bucky walks in. You turn to him hoping he likes it. It’s nothing extravagant to you compared to their style. It’s a black strapless elongated dress tailored to your height. A narrow slit starts from the upper thigh opening towards the bottom. 

“Wow, you look incredible. I mean not that you don’t always look good but today, tonight you just look exceptional.” You try not to smile at his words but fail. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him flustered. 

“Thank you, is this too much? It’s my old winter formal dress but I didn’t have time to get a new one.” You hope your attire suits the restaurant dress code. The last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of him.

“No, you look perfect. It’s perfect.” He’s matching with black slacks, sweater, and a long peabody coat. 

“I can say the same for you, I like the monochromatic look. It suits you.” Your comment makes him smile as it means a lot coming from you. 

“I wanted to look my best for you.” He checks his watch, noticing the time,”we should probably head down. The valet is waiting for us.” He holds out his hand as you accept it.

The waiter sat you at a booth per Bucky’s request. You’re glad to sit to relieve pressure off your feet. You only walked a little but the heels are skinny and feel like they’re stabbing your feet. Bucky orders drinks for you as you look at the menu. It’s limited but that’s how most fine dining restaurants operate.

“I want you to get whatever you want. My treat.” You don’t say thank you this time. “Don’t worry, I will.” Your reply comes out teasingly creates a smirk on his face knowing that you’re comfortable around him and letting him treat you accordingly.. 

The finished entrees have been pushed to the side leaving waiting to be picked up as you listen to him talk about this week's work load. Your phone interrupts him mid sentence as a message comes through from your sister. He doesn’t mean to pry, it was in the middle of the table after all.

“Do you need to get that?” He asks politely knowing that he’d give you all the time you needed.

You check it before answering him.

‘Hey, just checking on you, hope you’re doing okay. It feels like we haven’t talked in a little bit.’ For a second you feel bad. But you also know she only comes around when you don’t make plans or reach out first. You are always chasing and you hate forcing things, especially familial ties. It’s also not just that, that makes you feel bad. You’re sitting across from her ex-boyfriend who she dated for 4 years who she thought she was going to marry. Given it’s been two years since they’ve broken up. Now you’re sitting here wondering if you should leave for her sake or stay for what your heart wants. 

“No it’s fine, just something with my sister.” He must’ve noticed your demeanor change as he grabs your hand from the table. He rubs his thumb across your hand soothing you. 

“I get it, this situation isn’t ideal nor normal in a sense. It’s confusing, conflicting. Like you're questioning yourself what's right and wrong or too far. If you want me to take you home tonight and never speak again I understand. But I will say regardless of what happens after tonight. It’s up to you. It’s your feelings I respect ultimately. But I want you to know, I’d regret it if I don’t at least try. Because even though it’s only been a few months since we reconciled, I finally got to know someone that I have never met. Emotionally and mentally you captivate me in a way no one else has. Someone that actually listens to me, understands me, and wants me for me, not for what I have. I would be a fool not to chase someone like that regardless of who they're tied to.” He takes a small breath before finishing, “I don’t want to imagine a life without you. If it’s not you then I don’t want anyone. Above all I don’t want to walk away from tonight without telling you how I feel. What I feel is you, you make up my thoughts, I see you in my future.  I’d do anything to prove that love I have for you. Even if it means allowing you to walk away tonight. Because you’re the most important thing to happen to me in a long time. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you or make you choose something you aren’t ready for. I’m here for you even if you walk away, I’ll always come to you if you need me.” 

His eyes are a little teary as he cups your hand with both of his hands and kisses it. 

“You don’t have to make up your mind right n-” He’s cut off by you.

You interrupt him as you lean closer to the table with a shaky breath.“I don’t want to live a life I regret. Especially regretting someone that I could have a life with but chose not to out of fear or for someone else's feelings. I don’t know where life is supposed to lead me but I know I want it with you. Most people follow through with decisions based on what’s most logical but I choose my heart. And my heart wants you.”  

He leans over the table as you meet him halfway to kiss him. Letting his lips envelope yours, soft and plump like you imagined. It’s sweet and gentle like him. You pull away from the short kiss wishing it lasted longer but you’re also in public. 

“So you for sure don’t want to go home?” He asks one more time knowing your answer.

“Not unless it’s with you.” 

No words are exchanged as you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one of your legs is on his shoulder as he takes off your shoe. As he unties the last heel he kisses from your ankle to your thigh. Moving upwards to the wetness between your thighs. You lay back on the bed allowing for more access. He kneels on the floor, grabbing your ass and pulling it closer to him for better positioning. Your dress is pushed up, bunched around your waist as he pulls your panties off. He throws them to the side discarding them. You feel his breath on your pussy for a second before he kisses it. He gives the mound and lips little kisses teasing you as you wait for him to give you more. Shivers run down your spine as you feel his tongue on your slit. He flattens it to cover the whole area, licking a few times. Savoring the taste of you. He takes your swollen clit into his mouth to gently suck on. You can feel your clit pulsate as his tongue teases the little nub. Flicking it  and rubbing it in a circle with his tongue. Causing your hands to find his hair as you grip it and grind against his face. His hand reaches between your thighs as he rubs the soft skin gently before he runs two fingers over your wet pussy. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel his hand on your wet cunt. Once his fingers are wet, he uses one finger to open you up. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he adds another. Another finger joins the first stretching you. It gives you some relief as you rock yourself on his fingers a little as he begins to lap at your clit. Tonguing the nerve as he finger fucks your small hole.

“Your fingers feel so good.” You moan gripping his hair.

He removes his face from your pussy, “you taste amazing. Just as I thought” He gets back to his feet to lean over you as he begins to furiously fuck you on his fingers. You’re cursing at him as he continues, loving the sounds you’re making and faces you make when you’re being pleasured. You place your fingers on your clit as you feel yourself getting close. Rubbing circles and other motions to aid in relief. You’re begging him at this point whimpering knowing how close you are. He adds one more finger stretching you beyond belief knowing that you can take it

“You’re taking my fingers so well I can’t imagine how good it’ll feel on my dick.” . He says as he guides you while you’re cumming. Letting you know how good you are and how pretty you are. 

He waits a few more seconds before he pulls out his fingers leaving you empty. He gets off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes, swiftly undoing his buckle and pants to reveal a very prominent hard-on. You move closer to the headboard to get more comfortable as you wait for his return.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on having sex.” He’s on the bed again rubbing his cock trying to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t care, I just want you inside me.” Your voice is needy as he grins before he’s quickly in between your legs again. 

He rubs his cock up and down your slit. Letting the juices coat the tip. He teases the clit for a second until you whine wanting him inside you. He lines his cock up at your entrance with one hand letting the tip slowly enter. He looks at you, watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you. You gasp as he slides in, his length completely filling you up.

“You doing okay?” You nod as he waits for a second before moving.

His thrusts are gentle to not hurt your cervix. He knows his size is above average and easy to bruise if too rough. He leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip, the other on your face. His kiss is hungry and rough compared to his thrusts. 

“I’ve been waiting for this. Dreaming about this.” He says moaning into your mouth.

“I know, I’ve cum to you so many times.” You confess.

“I can’t count the times you’ve made me hard by just being next to you.” His pace quickens up which makes you grip his biceps.

“Fuck.” You draw out the word as he continues pounding.

He grabs your legs, bending your knees to your chest. This position leaves you completely folded, breathless, with how deep he is. 

‘Fuck you’re so big Bucky.” You say throwing your head back.

“Maybe your cunt is just too tiny then. Maybe I just need to keep stretching you out then so you don’t forget who you belong to.” He leans his head down to watch his cock retreat in and out of your hole. Mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his cock. 

He bites his lip as he slowly pulls out almost all the way, just to thrust back in. He loves watching your face as he’s inside you. Your little sounds and whimpers almost send him over the edge entirely with how sweet you are. You move your hips against his cock, meeting his thrusts. You’re so wet you can’t even tell if you’ve already cum or not. Sweat is building up on his forehead as you watch him pound into you. You know he’s close by the erratic thrusts.

“Where can I cum?” He asks, needing an answer quickly or else he’s about to make you a milf.

“Inside me. I’m on birth control.” He moans leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts speed up and his body shakes. Your walls grip him tightly as he spills his seed inside of you. Filling your cunt until it’s dripping.

Once he’s finished he gets a warm rag to clean you up. Letting the warmness soothe your now aching core.

“I love you” Bucky says as he doesn’t care to look for a ‘right time’ anymore.

“I love you too.” You really do.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #draftsandrecs #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

[shinyrhinestones]

Taxi.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader.

Warnings: Making out.

Genre: Fluff, but a little heated.

Category: Oneshot.

Summary: Spencer and Readers attraction towards each other give in, when they have to share a Taxi home.

English isn't my mother tongue, so there will probably be some mistakes.

———————————————————————-

You and Spencer had left the others behind at the pub, the others had insisted on going to. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were walking slowly along the sidewalk. Spencer was walking next to you, on the side that where the road was by. He was holding onto his light brown satchel. You had left the pub, due to being extremely exhausted from such a long day. Spencer wasn't the biggest fan of bar, pub and clubs. They were unhygenic and loud. You walked lazily, while Spencer walked the same pace as you to keep you company. When you announced that you were gonna go home, Spencer decided that he didn't want to stay either. He had opened the door for you, and held it open for you to go first. There wasn't really many cars on the road at the moment. The only thing lighting up the streets were the stars and the lampposts. You could hear the sound of Spencers shoes landing on the concrete everytime he took a step. The cold wind would brush against your face softly, as you walked down the street with your coworker. The coworker who was a very intelligent and friendly person. He always managed to impress people with his intelligence without trying. And he was always surprised when a woman was interested in him. Which was cute, but honestly you could see why ladies found him attractive. He was beautiful. Its actually not common to find a boy/man who's actually physically attractive.

Neither of you really said much. But you were getting too tired, that you had started walking very slow. So slow that Spencer himself got confused and worried.

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asked, his voice being very light. You stopped walking completely at his words and turned to look at him. Spencer had his eyebrows furrowed and eyes studying your face, not being able to read you completely. But your tired eyes and slouched figure, should've told everything for you. You nodded tiredly and lazily at him. "I'm okay. I'm just really tired."

You had honestly planned on walking home, since you didn't have enough money on you to pay for one. But you might aswell just have collapsed on the empty street, due to how tired you actually were. Spencer could see just how much, now that you were looking at each other completely. His eyebrows stopped scrunching together, as his eyes softened. His hands let go of his satchel, as his head whipped around to look around the road, you were standing by. "Okay, let's get a taxi then" He said, and started to walk ahead of him. You looked over at Spencer, who had started walking again. You didn't move. For a moment you just stood there admiring the tall, slim figure walking down the street to get a Taxi somewhere. You scoffed, but not in a mean way. It was more like: Is this boy really going to do that for me so late? Way.

And knowing Spencer as well as you did, you should've known he would've done it. And he did. 'Cause when you had just been standing there in amusement, Spencer had gotten a taxi pulled over. He looked over at your direction, when he didn't hear or feel your presence by him. He scrunched up his face in confusion, as he waved you over, holding the door open for you. You hurried up, not wanting the chauffeur to get irritated by you. You let out a short laugh, when you almost tripped on your way over there. The adrenaline running through you curtly at the shock. Spencer almost hurried over to your side when he saw it, but it was over so quickly, that he didn't get to play the hero on this night. You smiled at Spencer, when you had reached his side. He had grabbed onto your arm softly, to ask you: "Are you ok?" Once again. You replied with a delicate yes, looking into his brown doe eyes.

You turned away from him again, to enter the cab. You hugged your jacket close to yourself, before you put on the seat belt on your side. The car was warm, warming your previous cold hands up quickly. Spencer crawled in after you. You rested your body and head up against the side of the car, where the window was. You stared out through the window, before blinking your eyes slowly. The you turned your body in the direction of Spencer, but still leaning against the cars side. He had been playing with the handle of his satchel, when he saw you staring at him. When you made eye contact, you sat up again, closer to Spencer. His heart was beating faster, as you sat closer. His cheeks heating up aswell. Your belly started creating a tickling feeling. Spencer had always been a pretty boy. Which is why it made sense that Derek always called him pretty boy. But he so much more handsome, as the lights of the city brushed against his face. The lights painted his face red, green, blue and all kinds of colors from street lamps, ads, traffic lights and all kinds of city things. Spencer dropped his hands from his satchel to the seat he was sitting in. You studied his face. His eyebrows, hks shining brown eyes, cute button nose, sharp jawline and his pink lips. Your eyes were falling from his eyebrows, to his eyes, nose and just everywhere you could admire him. Spencer blushed a bright pink, when you kept looking at him. He shuffled against his seat, and gave you an awkward smile. You looked away from him noticing what you were doing. You didn't want him to get any more uncomfortable than he already seemed. You sighed, and ran your hand through your hair, to put it behind your ears. That gave Spencer the opportunity to see your face more clear. I mean, Yes he could see it before, but now that it wasn't dropping down around your face, he could see it more. Now it was his turn to study your face and admiring it in secret. He hadn't noticed how he himself had leaned in closer to feel the heat of your body. You leaned back into the car seat, sitting a little to the side. "Are you tired?" You asked, looking at him sweetly. Spencer was a little startled by your sudden words, but he didn't let it show. He smiled a little, as his eyes fell down before speaking. "Not really" He stated barely audible. You nodded, too tired to give a verbal answer. Spencer did the same as you, and leaned down into the seat, sitting to the side slightly aswell. This made eye contact much easier. Your faces were much closer. You could see the emotion behind his eyes, as he swallowed unconsciously. You were pretty sure eyes were filled with yearning. Being alone with Spencer made excitement rush through your body. Spencer looked down at your lips, before licking his lips with out realizing. You smiled, letting your teeth show.

You raised your hand to touch some of Spencers hair, that had draped over one of his eyebrows and his right eye. And right when you had touched him, you were afraid that maybe you had triggered him. After some time of working with Spencer, you learned how he didn't like touch and was a germaphobe.

You pushed his dark hair to the side, and as you were about to bring your hair down again, he grabbed it softly. He held it, as he examined your hand. Then with both his hands he started playing with your fingers almost massaging them. Its funny how you both just went along with the flow, not really saying much. Spencer kissed your hand, like you were a princess in a fairytale. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, before he asked you a shocking but interesting question.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was almost a small whisper, as looked at your features.

You didn't smile brightly, but you could definitely feel the warm feeling spreading through your body, it felt like you were flying. Your heart was beating so quickly you thought it might've exploded. You nodded again, replying to his question: "Yes, you can" You replied in the same tone and delicacy. He let out a small breath at the positive response, as he leaned closer to your body.

As soon as your lips met, they were glued together. Feeling his lips and tongue like that was something you never would've guessed would've happen this night. Your noses bumped against each other every once in a while, making your lips turn upwards, before going back to kissing him. His hands travelled up your thigh, and your hands ran all over his neck and chest. And even when you pulled away for air, you still found your way back to the other again. You ran your hands up to his cheeks, holding his face.

You could feel the turns the car made, and the other cars on the street.

You had completely forgotten where you were, that when you were reminded you pulled away from Spencer. Spencer assumed you just needed some air, but when he tried to lean in again, and you pulled away, he felt his blood run cold. He was absolutely frightened that he had made you uncomfortable and ruined everything. He froze. He just sat there staring at you, with puppy dog eyes hoping everything was okay. You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, looking at it, before meeting his eyes again. You looked at the driver, and then at the cute boy infront of you. "Everythings fine" You said low but light. You could smell the sweet scent of old books and coffee coming off of Spencer. He rested his head on your shoulder, as you held his large hands in yours on your lap. You leaned your own head on top of his, feeling his muffled and gentle hair on your cheek. You felt like the luckiesg person in the world, after kissing Spencer like that. Not knowing Spencer felt the same exact way.

--------------------------------------------------

#criminalminds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spence reid fluff

[youaremycosmo]

《all mine. all yours.》 taemin x reader scenario

Yeah, as always - i finished my latest idea, not what's waiting in the line XD so today husband&dad taemin is attacking again with his cuteness 💞 what a miserable dad, what would he do if he was a father of two? *runs away laughing * btw. this airport look is e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.

Word count// 1,435 words

Pairing// Taemin x you

Summary// Taemin after a month's break is going back to work, clearly pissed off he needs to go abroad for one day. Saying goodbye to you and his daughter is just endless as he can't be apart from the family even for a second.

Genre// fluffiest fluff

Warnings// if you're allergic to cuteness, don't read MASTERLIST

- Aish, why does this performance have to be in Japan? - Taemin whined again, crouching down to put on his shoes. He was like this all yesterday, and then today, almost making a scene while packing his things and documents. 

You giggled under your nose for the hundredth time in the last hour and glanced at little Taerinnie in your arms. When she was born, Taem took a really long break from his work as a dancer to focus on helping you to take care of the baby. You both could afford it and you were extremely thankful to him, as being a mom, especially in the first days, was really stressful. Eventually, he needed to come back to work, but what caused his dissatisfaction from the very first week was this trip to Osaka. That meant he had to be away from home just for that one night, but it already seemed like the end of the world to Tae.

- Because Baekhyun is performing in Japan, duh - you mocked him a little, observing carefully what he has chosen to wear. - Everything will be fine, you need rest from us too - you assured your husband, trying somehow to calm him down. 

- How can I rest from my family? - he asked, even more outraged by your words. - I need to be by your side all the time, what if something happens and i won’t be around you? - Taem stood up, running a hand through his long, brown hair. Every hairstyle looked good on him, but there was something special in these messy strands which curled up in the ends. 

- I’m sure there won’t be this kind of situation - you said with certainty. - It’s just one night. We’ll be fine, for sure - you switched your attention towards Taerin again. She calmly wandered with her curious eyes over everything possible, while moving her little hands. This little cutie patootie looked surprised by everyone and everything, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. Taerinnie was already a month old, but she still seemed so small and vulnerable, making you feel touched every time you held her. - Don't look at other men, okay? - he admonished you seriously, taking a few steps towards you. 

You groaned softly, frowning. - Ah, how can I look at other men while wearing tracksuits and sitting at home? - you asked indignantly, and Taemin chuckled, clearly amused by that. - Have you seen yourself? - you reached your hand to his brown, oversized jacket, sighing desperately. Saying he got more handsome every year was surely an understatement. He just looked extremely good today, too good for your poor being and hormones which were slowly starting to regulate, allowing you to notice a little more than just Taerinnie. - I should be the one telling you not to look at anyone else, although... it makes no sense, someone will pick on you anyway, because you look so handsome - you muttered resignedly, letting these naughty thoughts out. 

Your compliment clearly pleased Taemin, who stared at you lovingly. - My darling, somehow... I have to adjust to my beautiful wife. Look how much i had to do, only to match this pretty baby - he said with full conviction, and you snorted quietly. He said it on purpose, but you couldn't help feeling your heart beating faster while hearing those words.

- You should leave now, or you’ll be late -  you reminded Tae, but your hand was still on his chest, not wanting to let go of him. This charming bare face, messy hair, simple but perfectly fitted outfit were affecting you so much today. Taemin leaned down towards Taerin gently, causing her eyes to move to his face. His hand began to gently stroke her little head while the finger of his other hand slipped into her fist. - Be good for mommy, yeah? Don't cry too much at night, because mommy needs to sleep… Aigo, aigo… - he pouted a little, when Taerin’s pacifier slid out from her dad-alike lips. It was corrected as quickly by him - Dad will come soon, I promise. And he will buy you something nice - he assured in a lovely voice, finally pressing his full lips on her forehead. For a few more seconds Tae stared at her with a tender smile, as if he wanted to remember this sight with all his might. After a moment did he look at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, careful not to crush Taerinnie in your arms, but to hug you both.

- Any special requests, my princess? - he asked just as tenderly, caressing your side. Taemin always made sure you feel loved, especially when his attention was now divided to two girls in the home. You allowed yourself to think about it for a while, but finally shook your head. There was simply nothing in your mind to ask for. 

- Nothing? Then I'll think of something myself - he chuckled, leaning slightly to your ear. - Will some cute thongs for this equally cute baby be okay? - he asked in a playful voice, his warm breath enfolding your ear.

- Tae - you punched his arm lightly, embarrassed by this proposition. You could be sure now Taem will come back with some piece of pink lingerie, already prepared for the time you two could have sex again. 

- I'm going to miss my girls really badly - he said more quietly and seriously, kissing your forehead. - I'm going to miss my beautiful wife and my adorable daughter so, so much - you felt his thumb lightly stroke your side.

- We'll miss you too - you admitted with a smile, your faces only centimeters apart. Taemin moved even closer, connecting your lips in a delicate kiss. At first it was just an innocent brush of lips, but you held his neck with your hand, deepening the kiss and allowing yourself this moment of complete oblivion, closing your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as Taem willingly allowed you to do this, giving himself completely to you. You pulled away from each other with slightly deepened breaths, your cheeks slightly flushed as a wave of shyness suddenly flooded your mind.

Your hand carefully slid down, releasing him. It should be nothing special, after all, you've been kissing like this for many years. However, your daughter's presence made love, true, sincere love, completely outweigh any lust. 

- Sorry, we shouldn't... - you glanced at Taerinnie, blushing. You were suddenly embarrassed that you had allowed yourself to feel what you felt for Tae in this short moment, waking up woman in mommy state. 

- We should - he replied almost immediately, reaching for your chin and making you look into his dark eyes. - I'm not talking about having sex in front of her, but... why should we be ashamed of the fact that we love each other? If we weren't a great couple, she wouldn't be here at all - he gave you his most charming smile and pecked your lips once again. - I'll see you tomorrow -  Taem said in a low voice, kissing the top of your head and sighing softly. His hand reached quickly for the handle of his suitcase.

It wasn’t that your husband was in a hurry to finally feel freedom. Instead, you could notice how he tried not to look at you both anymore in case he couldn’t leave for work at all. Taemin was so cuddly and absorbed in being a man in the house that parting with you was almost unable to bear.

You hesitated a little as he pressed the doorknob. Something… was missing there. You haven’t said what should be said. 

-Taem? - you asked, approaching him once again.

Tae only had time to glance at you and smile before you reached for the nape of his neck once more and connected your lips briefly, but definitely not innocently. 

- All mine - you said quietly, running your hand down his torso and pulling away to let him finally leave.

- All yours - he replied with a sparkle in his eye and a wide smile, before he closed the door.

You sighed loudly, biting your lip. Being alone for the first time with this little sunshine was actually quite stressful, but you wouldn’t admit that to Taemin on no account.

- So, are we left alone for a girls' night? - you said to Taerinnie as you went to lay her in her crib again. 

#superm x reader #taemin x reader #kpop scenarios #shinee fics #shinee x reader #superm fics #taemin scenarios #taemin x reader fluff #taemin #taemin fluff #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #taemin fanfic #taemin scenario #taemin x you

[henrysteelsmurryme]

dealerry

a little something that I absolutely love yet have no motivation to continue...unless....

: :

Eli sighs contently as she strolls along the sidewalk. The leaves on the trees are transitioning from their summery green to the warm yellows, deep reds, and burnt oranges. The sun is shining yet the air is crisp, the perfect weather for a sweater because the academic buildings haven’t yet turned on the heat.

It’s a perfect fall day.

Only, she isn’t wearing a sweater. Instead, she has on a fitted pink knit top that she’s paired with straight light-washed jeans and her classic white sneakers. Her tote bag rests on her shoulder, a sweatshirt shoved in there that she’ll put on after her little rendezvous. And, speaking of which, she’s approaching the designated spot and can already see her acquaintance waiting for her.

He greets Eli with a flirty grin that he seems to reserve only for her. He has plenty of other signature smirks and smiles, ones that he uses on other people, but only she receives this special grin, the ‘Eli grin’ as he likes to call it. “Hey, babygirl.”

She smiles back, for some reason feeling giddy. Actually, she knows the reason: it’s because he’s really fucking hot. he knows it. Everyone knows it. She can’t help but get a little flustered every time someone as gorgeous as him gives her a sliver of his attention. “Hey, Harry. How are you?” His tone is way too suggestive to say to someone who’s in a relationship, but Harry’s never been one to shy away from a challenge. “Much better now.” He walks toward her, meeting Eli halfway and lifting his arms. She walks right into him, hugging him around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. He gives great hugs; he’s firm yet gentle, and he always holds the embrace for a while. She’s pretty sure he only hugs her like this.

Eli inhales deeply, reveling in his signature scent of mary jane and Old Spice. Within the last couple of weeks, whenever she gets a whiff of that sweet scent, she thinks of him. Then the fluttery feeling usually (always) follows.

He’s looking especially cozy today, decked in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, the bottoms cuffed and revealing white Nike socks that are scrunched down. He’s wearing a hot pink sweatshirt, the hood covering his curly brown hair, the words ‘Girly Girl’ printed underneath a rainbow on his chest—he had found it at the thrift store, and when he discovered it was in his size, he claimed it was “fate”—just like meeting her was “fate.” It matches his shoes, a pair of light pink Reebok sneakers to which he never bothers tying the laces.

Harry squeezes Eli tightly, until a strained squeak leaves her lips. He hums, treasuring the last few moments before letting go and stepping back with a soft, cheeky smile on his face.

She cocks her head to the side. “You seem tired.”

He nods, rubbing his eye with the knuckle of his index finger. “I am, baby. Spent all fucking night writing a stupid fucking paper for philosophy.” Then, he adds sheepishly (or, as sheepishly as Harry Styles can get), “I may have been really fucking high while writing it, but I already submitted it, so, fuck it.” He shrugs. “I feel like I’m at my fucking best when I’m high though.” He sets his hands on his waist and shifts his weight onto one foot. He nods at Eli with a serious expression on his face, letting her know that he meant what he said. “My creative juices are flowing faster than the fucking speed of light, ya know?”

“No.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself to avoid shivering. Before Harry opens his mouth, she says forcefully, “I don’t want your sweatshirt,” which is a lie; she does want his sweatshirt, because she likes it and thinks it’s cute, but not in this situation where he’s asking only because he wants to be flirty with her.

He shakes his head. His backpack hangs in one shoulder, and he swings the pack around to the front of his chest to dig inside. “Don’t know why you didn’t bring a fucking sweatshirt. It’s cold, baby, you’ll get sick.”

He hands her the stash, and instead of saying thank you, Eli asks jokingly, “Do you know my name?”

He grins at her. “I don’t need to when ‘baby’ suits you just fine.”

She sighs, then slaps the cash into his open palm. He tries to close his fingers around her hand, but she wrangles it out with a sweet giggle that sounds like music to Harry’s ears.

“Well,” she stands tall, pushing her shoulders back and, consequently, her chest out. She can feel the soft fabric of her shirt shift against her nipples, the cold only making them more sensitive as they harden. She doesn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes drift down; it’s why she’s wearing this shirt in the middle of October. Harry gives her the “hot-girl discount” (his words), and she gives him a nice, personal “hot-girl thank you” (her words) in the form of her nipples peeking through her shirt. It’s a win-win.

Her boyfriend hates it, despite the fact that she never wears a bra anyway. Yet he claims she’s doing it for Harry which…she is, but it’s for the discount, and she doesn’t ever hear him complaining about the discount.

The corners of Harry’s lips quirk up into a smirk. Then he bites into his bottom lip. “Try not to get through this shit too quickly this time, hot stuff, yeah? I worry about you and your pretty little fucking lungs.”

“Yeah,” Eli says, deciding to play along. She pops a hip and plays with the hem of her shirt, pursing her lips. Her voice takes on an obviously forced tilt of innocence, laced heavily with flirty suggestion. “I’m not really sure I’m doing it right.”

Harry’s voice drops, the deep baritone sending shivers through her body. Her nipples could cut through steel right now. “Well, you know you’re always welcome at my place. I’ll show you how to do it all right.”

She tries not to snort; she may have accidentally revealed to Harry that her boyfriend isn’t exactly the king of the bed. He hasn’t forgotten about it—in fact, he’s continuously reminded her that he remembers, even in front of her boyfriend, who, thankfully, hasn’t realized. He’s picking up on it though, because Harry isn’t exactly subtle.

She sighs lightly, continuing the act of innocence. “Yeah, maybe. I’d really appreciate it.” Then her voice returns to normal, a genuine smile growing on her lips. Harry returns his own, and they take a moment to bask in each other’s presence before she says, “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, babygirl. Can’t wait to see your pretty fucking face again.”

—

soooo....what do we think? we like? bc personally, i love. i just need some more ideas....

#harry styles #harrystyles #harryfanfiction #harrystylesfanfiction #harryfluff #harrystylesfluff #fanfiction #harry #harryfic #harry fic #my writing #lmnop #harry fan fiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry fluff #harry styles fluff #dealer!harry #dealerry

[hopefuloverfury]

Omg hi! May I request something with harvey and gn!reader in which they are in a game of truth or dare with the other balchelors/rettes and one of them dares the farmer to kiss the doctor (farmer and harv are not necessarily in a relationship yet but they are close friends...or more ?)

Drink water! XD

Hello!! This prompt was a lot of fun to do, and Harvey is so cute! Thank you for the request anon, I really appreciate it! I don't have a beta reader unfortunately, so this might have typos or awkward phrasing (english isn't my first language agh) but I hope you enjoy anyway!! This one took me a bit longer, sorry about that! Also I drank water just for you, anon <3

2329 words, foul language, alcohol consumption, general dumbassery. GN!Farmer, implied Sam/Penny, a little suggestive at certain points but this is overall pretty tame, it might be a little ooc near the end but i tried my best whoops, manipulative Haley(but it's for everyone's benefit, don't worry), uhhhh did I miss anything? OH YEAH someone eats a spoonful of mayo sorry about that LMFAO

Harvey doesn’t like drinking anything that isn’t wine.

Wine lets him unwind—it loosens up his tense, stressed muscles, and after one glass, he’s usually set for the night. He doesn’t go crazy. He doesn’t drink liquor.

The Farmer, however, apparently does.

They’re squeezed in on the loveseat between Elliott and Shane, with one arm thrown over the back of the cushions, and they’re intermittently stealing Shane’s beer to down a few gulps at a time. As their doctor, he’s concerned, but as their boy—as their friend—his nerve endings are singed, and an uneasy feeling is building in his gut.

If he was an idiot, he’d blame the feeling on the nasty liquor Alex and Haley brought to the farmhouse, deep brown and thick like molasses on the way down. Unfortunately, he’s more self-aware than that.

Which means he knows that the sudden stab through his chest when the Farmer leans in a little too close to Elliott—harsh and thrashing, like a green sludge cloying up his throat and gluing his tongue to the back of his teeth—is just jealousy.

Maru and Abigail cheer loudly on his left, piled onto the couch with Sebastian and Sam, and part of him wishes he’d stayed home. He could’ve faked sick, maybe, and blamed it on the cold slowly blowing in from the ocean during this time of year. He’s never really liked the winter season, anyway.

But then he’d have missed this, and even though watching the Farmer eat up the attention from Shane and Elliott is keying him up more than any surgery he’s ever had to perform, he never misses Thirsty Thursday.

‘Thirsty Thursday’ is what the Farmer calls it. They coined the term with their old group of friends back in the city, or so he’s been told. Rules are simple: once a month, everyone brings a bottle of alcohol to one person’s house, and they spend the whole night getting plastered while playing drinking games. The game is different every time.

Today's game of choice is truth or dare—or strip.

Everyone is in varying states of undress, and he’s already lost his vest, his tie, and both of his shoes. There’s a pile of clothes building in the middle of the living room, and eleven pairs of shoes scattered between half-empty bottles of alcohol.

Thankfully it doesn’t look like he’s going to be losing anything else, because the group has abandoned their attacks on each other in favor of ganging up on the Farmer, who’s still fully clothed. Their boots are still perfectly laced, strings untouched and swinging to-and-fro. He watches them like pendulums, and takes another sip from his cup.

Alex flops back on the floor and throws his arms up in defeat.

“I give up, this is impossible,” he shouts, and Haley pokes him in the side with her foot.

“Quit being dramatic, you big baby,” she scolds him, raising an eyebrow with all the judgement of an angel at the gates of the afterlife. She's always scared him, a little. Too keen, knows too much, sees too much. Reads him like he's a children's book.

“Oh come on, there’s gotta be something they won’t do.” Sam yells across the room, his laugh as boisterous as ever. Harvey winces. His ears always get more sensitive when he’s drunk.

The Farmer tosses their head back and laughs, the sound ringing sharply in his ears. Harvey licks his lips, and rubs off any residual alcohol clinging to his mustache with the back of his hand. The hair scratches his skin, and it grounds him, if only a little bit. He likes their laugh.

“Oh, I think I’ve got one,” Penny says suddenly, sitting up and pointing at the Farmer with an eager look on her face. Harvey knows for a fact that she’s stone-cold-sober, and he honestly can’t believe she’d even show up for Thirsty Thursday, given how she feels about alcohol, but maybe the fact that she’s been glued to Sam’s arm all night has something to do with it. He won’t ask. “Farmer, truth or dare?” 

“Bring it on, Pen. Dare,” the Farmer says.

“I dare you to eat a spoonful of mayonnaise.” Harvey’s face twists in disgust immediately, and the volume goes up to a hundred. Everyone’s laughing because they’re sure they wouldn’t. Not even the Farmer would do something so disgusting.

Harvey knows otherwise.

He watches with unsurprised horror as they lean forward, elbows on their knees, and give Penny a wild grin with their tongue bitten between their teeth. He wants to do that.

“That’s it?” Their voice is like a gunshot in the living room, silencing the group for half a moment before, like vultures to a corpse, Sam is jumping up and rushing into the kitchen with Alex and Leah hot on his heels. 

Within thirty seconds there’s a jar of mayonnaise sitting heavy between the Farmer’s thighs, and Emily is handing them a spoon. Harvey’s pretty sure at least seven of them are yanking their phones out of their pocket to video the whole thing, and while he gets it, he’s seen the Farmer do much worse.

He’s no longer surprised by anything they do. As their doctor, he’s well aware of the shenanigans they get up to during their free time, and if he’s being realistic, eating a spoonful of mayo is probably the tamest thing they’ve done in his presence.

It’s still fucking gross though. Harvey snorts to himself, watching the look on their face when they twist open the jar and dig their spoon into the devil’s condiment. Even when they talk a big game, he can read them easily. Harvey chuckles a little bit at the slightly green tinge on their cheeks as they bring it up to their mouth, and close their lips over the spoon.

They barely manage to get it down, to the resounding cheers of glee and disgust around them.

“Holy shit, you actually did it!” Sam cackles, shoving his camera in the farmer’s face. They flip him off and he devolves into a fit of giggles.

Sebastian gags behind him, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and flopping back down on the couch behind Harvey. “That was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted,” Shane muses, holding his beer far out of reach from the Farmer’s grabby hands. “Nuh-uh, don’t even think about it, Farmer. You did this to yourself, and I don’t want your mayo mouth on my drink, go get your own.” 

The Farmer whines petulantly, and Harvey gets up on his knees to pass the bottle of cranberry juice Penny brought for the punch mix. There’s just enough leftover to wash down the taste, and the Farmer plucks the near-empty jug out of his hands gratefully.

“Oh, my savior, thank you.” They guzzle the rest of the jug without preamble, and in their haste, a single drop trickles from the corner of their lips and down their chin. Harvey watches it like a hawk, eventually losing sight of it under the collar of their shirt. He wonders how it’d taste to lick it off, and immediately turns his eyes to the floor.

His ears burn.

“That was disgusting, don’t make me do that ever again,” The Farmer says, and Emily throws a pillow at them. It bounces off of their head harmlessly, and Shane catches it as it falls to the floor.

“We didn’t make you do anything,” Shane reminds them dryly, leaning back into the cushions with a smirk. “You could’ve just taken off your boots or something.”

“But they have to protect their honor!” Leah laughs, sea-blue eyes bright and twinkling as she throws her arm over Elliott and the Farmer’s shoulder from behind the loveseat.

“Oh goodness, I can still smell it on your breath.” Elliott jokes, dramatically yanking himself out of Leah’s grip and leaning far over the arm of the loveseat.

“How do you think I feel?” The Farmer snaps at him without a trace of heat in their voice, and Elliott snorts into his palm.

“Well, if that didn’t work, I’m out of ideas.” Penny shrugs, sitting back against Sam’s chest. 

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing,” Sam agrees. “Anyone else?”

Silence follows, and Harvey almost gets ready to collect his clothes from the pile, when Haley raises her hand.

“I’ve got one more.”

“Can’t possibly be worse than making me eat mayo, so go ahead.” The Farmer shudders, setting the empty juice jug on the coffee table with a hollow thunk. Harvey settles back down, his heart making a distantly similar sound.

Haley cocks her head to the side, her hair swaying in front of her calculating blue eyes. “I dare you to kiss Harvey.” 

Harvey doesn’t like a lot of things. 

He doesn’t like liquor. He doesn’t like coral, or salmonberries, or the cold. He doesn’t like when the Farmer goes into the mines and comes back with a new gash on their skin, or a fractured bone in their limbs. He doesn’t like Thirsty Thursday.

He keeps his eyes glued to the Farmer, and desperately ignores every other pair of eyes currently digging into his skin. They’re probably all talking, but his ears have lost all functionality. The world sounds muffled and faraway, like his head is underwater.

“I, uh…” The Farmer stutters, and Harvey’s pulled back to shore. He hangs onto every syllable, his gut clenching, waiting for the sucker-punch of rejection. When it comes, he’s going to have to pretend to be normal about it, but everyone will stare at him with that glitter of pity in the backs of their eyes that he hates so much— “I’d have to brush my teeth. Harvey hates the taste of mayonnaise.”

Harvey’s lower jaw unhinges itself from his skull and falls into his solo cup with a splash.

He shakes his head, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m sorry, come again?”

The Farmer shrugs, but they won’t meet his eyes. “I mean, if you’re cool with it, I just have to brush my teeth. It was my dare, why should you have to suffer for it?”

They glance at him, at his lips, and Harvey’s launched to cloud nine.

“I—okay. Go brush your teeth then.”

The Farmer nods stiffly, their cheeks and ears flushing as they stand up. “Cool. Be right back.”

He looks up, suddenly afraid, and glances across the coffee table at Haley. She’s grinning, her teeth glinting like a lioness who just caught a gazelle in her jaws. Harvey rubs the back of his neck, his skin burning.

There’s a few hollers from the guys behind him, and he’s pretty sure Alex and Leah have both clapped him on the back. He didn’t even do anything.

“Okay!” The Farmer calls, their voice echoing down the hall and entering the room a few seconds before them. Harvey stays rooted to the floor, his wrists aching from leaning back on them for so long. His palms are probably indented with the texture of the rug beneath him. His eyes don’t stray from the Farmer as they walk around the couches and every forgotten bottle littering their living room floor. They crouch down in front of him, settling down on their knees, and Harvey’s brain finally catches up with him.

This is actually happening.

The Farmer is going to kiss him. He’s going to pass out.

“So, um. How do you want me to…?” They ask, and he thinks about it for a moment before realizing they’re looking at Haley. 

“You can’t figure that out for yourselves?” Haley asks, her voice sharp and cutting.

The Farmer’s hands flap around chaotically as they sputter, searching for an appropriate defense. “This is your dare! How am I supposed to know, I can’t read your mind!”

“Farmer.” Harvey sets his solo cup on the coffee table. “You didn’t brush your teeth just to argue with Haley, did you?”

It’s the fucking liquor. It always makes him lose his filter. It gives him confidence, but it chases his inhibitions away and makes him bolder. He’s impatient, and he’s been dancing around this ‘will-we-won’t-we’ thing he’s got going with the Farmer for months, and he’s sick of it. 

Another round of hollers and gleeful exclamations bounce off the walls, but he’s not paying attention anymore.

“No, I didn’t.” They say quietly, and they’re not paying attention anymore, either. “So how do you want me to do this?”

Harvey swallows hard, his eyes flicking down to their lips. “How do you think I want you to do it?”

“Messy,” they whisper, cupping his jaw in their hands, and he might as well be delirious. “But that’s not really appropriate when we have an audience, so you’ll have to settle for a little less.”

“Guess you’ll just have to do it again when there’s no audience,” Harvey hisses, and then their lips are on his. There’s condensation from the beer mixing with the sweat on his palms, but he brings his hands up to grip their waist anyway. They shiver against him, breathing slowly through their nose, and Harvey pulls them closer.

They taste like toothpaste, and feel like silk in his hands. He squeezes once, trying not to groan into their mouth, lest he put on a show for the rest of the group, but they rearrange themselves against his lips, and suddenly his glasses are digging into the bridge of his nose.

He yanks himself away, barely taking a breath as he tears his glasses off his face and tosses them onto the coffee table with a clatter. He pays it no mind. Someone whistles. Probably Sam. He drags the Farmer back in and slots their lips together, clicking together like puzzle pieces as they sling their arms over his shoulders. 

He slips his thumb under their shirt, just barely, and their voice rumbles deep in their chest.

He loves Thirsty Thursday.

#stardew valley #sdv #elliott #shane #sammy #sebby #alex #harvey #leah #maru #penny #abigail #haley #emily #asks #sdv farmer #gender neutral farmer #gender neutral reader #farmer/harvey #reader/harvey #drinking #alcohol #blurbs #anon

[oh-puffle-cakes19]

Hello !

Could you make an imagine wherein you & tom are with him while filming uncrowded room and then Tom is protecting you and being the high standard boyfriend while both of you are in New York. Also Y/n & Tom showing lil bit of PDA while having a date night in NY 🥺

Thank you🥺

Just for Me and You

Pairing - Tom Holland x reader

Summary - Your with Tom on The Crowded Room set. After, Tom has planned a date with you in New York City with him.

Warnings - none just fluff

A/N - Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy! Much appreciated to the love and support 🥰

“Tom are you sure?” You say nervously, Tom pressing a slight kiss to your hand, “Yes love, I promise you will be fine,”

Tom has pulled a few strings for you to be on The Crowed Room set with him.

You watch him be made up by make up and Hair artists, then see him film some of the scenes. You let out a giggle as you see him run.

You sat with Harry, mostly talking to him, while watching Tom. You wasn’t completely along, which was good!

“Cut, Tom move a bit to your left, I need extras to walk behind you in the background,” The director shouted, across the set.

Tom and the other people moved, “Take 2 Action,” starting the scene again to make it better.

You spent Time with Tom on his break, laughing at his jokes. Some fans walk passed the set as it is in the centre of New York.

Other than that, it is peaceful and relaxed.

“You ok? sweetheart,” Tom smiles, brushing his hand against your thigh under the table to comfort you, “Yes, are you?” You smile.

“Yes, always with you,” he replied, sweetly.

Tom went back to filming after his break.

“Hey, Y/N,” Harry called your name out, “Here is a dress for you from Tom and a jacket plus shoes,” He gave you, passing the items.

“What is this, Exactly?” You questioned, holding the items in your hands.

“Did he not tell you?” Harry shows a shock expression.

“No, tell me what? Why has he got a dress for me?” You ask, curiously.

“Tom has set a reservation for you both at some restaurant in New York City,” He told you, “You can change in the dressing room,”

“Oh ok, thank you,” You nodded, walking into the dressing room and closing the curtain to change.

“No problem,” Harry smiled.

🧋

It is around 7pm where you and Tom sit down at a restaurant, looking at each other in delight.

“This looks fancy,” You giggle, “I wanted to treat you, Darling,” Tom winked, teasing you.

Tom grabs the wine bottle, popping off the cap, pouring a wine for you “Ladies first,” he smiles giving you the glass.

“Thank you, such a gentleman,” you giggle.

“You are one of a kind Tom,” You smile, Tom nods pouring his own drink and then taking your hand and rubbing it under the table, “So are you, beautiful! Thank you for supporting me, it means a lot,”

Tom takes a sip of the wine with you.

“Of course, Tom! I’m not going to do anything but support and love you,” You replied sincerely, looking into his beautiful, warm, honey, brown eyes. 

“Sir and Madam, here is your plates. Would there be anything else you would require?” The servant bowed to you, “No thank you,” Tom spoke up, the servant nodded, “Have a goodnight,”

“You too,” You and Tom nodded to him.

“It looks delicious,” You licked your lips taking a knife to cut into your dish, “Just like you then, Darling,” Tom being cheeky told you.

“My Word, Thomas,” You gasped, giggling.

“What? It’s true,” Tom smiles to his eyes, taking a bite from his dish, “But the food, does taste good!”

“Your full of complaints, aren’t you, Tommy,” You smirk, “Yes,” he mumbles.

“I see that your wearing the dress, I bought you. Do you like it?” Tom asked, “Yes, actually it fits well and it’s comfortable,”

“That’s good, you look beautiful, Love,” Tom whispers, over the table, “How romantic, Tom with your hushed words,” You smile as you take another bite of your meal.

“Of course,” Tom laughs.

“You don’t look too bad, yourself!” You look up to him, taking a drink of your wine, “You look handsome,” you mumble.

“Thank you, love,” Tom put his hand on your thigh under the table, “Can’t get enough of your compliments, Blossom!” He winks, teasing.

“Me neither,” You smirked back.

🧋

Tom takes your hand to stand up after paying for your meal. You exit the restaurant with Tom, hand in hand as cameras flash from paparazzi.

“Guys, can you step back, Thank you,” Tom asked, as he stood in front of you.

“It’s ok, Darling,” Tom whispers, rubbing your hand as he guides you through the crowd.

He lets you get in the car first, “You want to have a walk around New York? Petal,” holding your thigh to comfort you.

“Yes, that would be nice,” you kiss his cheek, “Your so sweet, Darling,” Tom smiles back, kissing your cheek back.

“Says yourself,” you tease.

The driver took you to another part of the city, as you got out of the car. Tom helped you as the car was so high up.

“You good?” Tom asked, you nodded.

“Thanks,” Tom put his hand up to the driver as you two walk away on the street.

“Did I tell you how beautiful, you are tonight!” Tom smiles as he takes your hand into your own, keeping you away from the road.

“I don’t know, maybe you should tell me again?” You asked, cheekily.

“Well, Darling! You do, You really do look Beautiful,” Tom complimented you again as you took a turn into the lighted street.

“ok, Mr.Holland,” You giggle, “Look at the pretty lights, they are beautiful!” You gushed.

“Just like you,” Tom leaned in whispering into your ear.

“Tom, stop your making me blush and I swear some people are taking pictures,” You whisper back, leaning in more as you walk.

“Mm, let them! Your so pretty, to photograph!” Tom winked, “Although, they won’t ever get the best part of you,”

“Oh, my god!” You giggle, “I’m sure, I’m bright red,”

“None the less, beautiful!” Tom smirked, kissing your cheek.

“They definitely, got a picture of you kissing my cheek,” you laugh, leaning into the crook of his neck.

“Come here, get closer! I have to protect you Darling,” Tom says as he pulls you closer, now his arm has wrapped around your waist as you walk.

“Such a gentleman,” You tease, knowing that it is the full truth.

“Hush, you love it,” Tom chuckles, rubbing your side.

“As I do,” You reply, looking at him in his eyes.

“Did you have a good date?” Tom asked, “Of course, anything with you is good,” You mumbled

“I booked a hotel, it’s 5 mins from here,” Tom smirks, to your reaction.

“No, you didn’t!” You gasped, “Tom Stanley Holland,” smiling.

“Love, I actually did! Just for me and you,” Tom surprised you as you walk more to see the hotel.

“Tom,” You smile, “Your amazing, best boyfriend ever!”

“I do try, love but I’m glad you love the surprise,” Tom kisses your head.

“Let’s go into our room,” he winks at you, leading you into the hotel.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fandom #tomhollandfan #lovers #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 3: On My Darkest Day She Helped Me

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"

Summary: It's only an offer to ride together.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: T, flirtingggg, angst, mention of character death (not explicit), Jack Daniels needs his own warning, not much in this chapter but will be explicit in later chapters, 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: What does an awakened Jack look like now that he has a new directive?

Cross-posted on AO3

Cognitive Dissonance Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Series Masterlist

Stepping out into the sun and dust of the street, a strong-featured woman named Rosie gathers your group. Her skin is sunburned in some places, windburned in others. She wears a more sensible getup, riding boots and denim pants with a worn bandana around her neck. A couple carriages are lined up outside the Mariposa Saloon, which you suspect are for your group.

“Ladies, please gather ‘round and listen well,” Rosie says as your bachelorette party makes a semicircle around her. She weaves a tale of gold and treasure lost in the valley, a long and winding journey ahead with many faces to meet. As rugged as Rosie is making it sound, you know it’s a narrative that families often go on. The girl’s fancy shoe choices won’t be much of a hindrance.

“Now, if you would step up into these carriages,” Rosie says, and with barely a thought you speak.

“Could we ride, if we want?” you ask, a couple shocked laughs coming from the other girls, Lacey doesn’t, looking at you with interest and some approval.

“Ma’am, I think you would be more comfortable in the carriages,” Rosie placates before a voice rumbles behind you.

“If the lady would prefer to ride, I would be happy to be of assistance,” a southern baritone interjects, making your heart flutter momentarily. Turning to see Jack, sunlight making his skin golden, you notice his brown eyes are a little gentler than in the Mariposa. His smile still laced with bravado, but a touch less forward than before. You cock your head at him.

“You have a horse to spare?” you ask as he ambles down the steps and into the street. Two horses are tied up in front of the saloon, one black and sleek, the other light brown and cream dappled with darker spots. The latter makes you smile; you love Appaloosas.

“Yes ma’am, need to get them back to my ranch. She appreciates being ridden more than led.” Jack’s hand rests on the Appaloosa’s neck, stroking her soothingly while she nickers.

“You should ride,” Lacey says by your elbow, giving you a squeeze of encouragement. When you look at her, her eyes are full of excitement.

“I don’t…” you start to say, but she shushes you, her eyes darting to Jack and back to you again.

“I want you to. It would make me happy if you did,” Lacey says with an inflection the girls and hosts miss, but you know. Lacey is your oldest friend, and when things shifted between you and your fiance she was always there to listen, to commiserate. You pulled back when she got engaged, not wanting to taint her happiness, but she knew you well enough to leave things be or when to push. And she is pushing now, urging you to take what this place is offering.

“Okay,” you acquiesce, making a bright grin break out on her face, “Mr. Daniels, I’d be happy to ride as long as you share the trail with us.” His grin is more subdued, the horses starting to stomp the dirt at the heat.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am, and you're welcome to call me Jack,” he says, untying the reins as the girls hop into the carriages. Lacey is last, and she raises her eyebrows and twirls a finger at Jack with a suggestive wink before the door shuts behind her. A chorus of excited screams and laughter spurs the carriages out of town.

“She have a name?” you ask, coming up to acquaint yourself with your mount. Her large black eye regards you, nose puffing as she lips at your sleeve.

“This here’s Alpha,” Whiskey replies, patting the black stallion on the shoulder as he checks the saddle straps. “And this here lady’s Copper. She’s a new acquisition, but sweet-tempered. I’m sure you have fire enough to ride her.” He turns back to you with a smirk on his face, and you see more of that smarminess from the bar shining through. "Do you have a name to share? Otherwise I'll have to make one up for you." A flutter of heat tingles along your scalp as you usher in a little more boldness.

"Well I could tell you, but now you've got me curious. What would you call me, Jack?" you flirt, your heart racing up to a gallop. When you hazard a look at his face he's got one eyebrow raised, regarding you slowly enough it makes your skin prickle.

"I think I'd call you Sugar, on account of how sweet you are," he says, and while you fight a smile you know he's dying for, you also roll your eyes.

"How many Sugars have you met out here at the Mariposa, Jack?" you shoot back. Jack’s banter is making you loosen up, reminding you of farm hands and horse wranglers at the ranches you’d visited. Sometimes they were rough boys, but often they just wanted the chance to flirt with a guest and feel like they’re your fantasy. You’d let a few of them tease, and touch, but none got to know you further than that. And here was Jack, no young ranch hand, much more the cowboy of a romance novel, looking at you with a veiled fascination.

"You're the first," he says, and for some strange reason you actually believe him. A flirt, and a tease, but genuine in this moment. You nod and cough, huffing out a laugh.

"I'm not that sweet," you retort, then give him your name. He rolls it around in his mouth like a fine liquor, returning to finish saddling Alpha.

With shaky hands you tighten your own buckles and straps, some muscle memory coming back to you. This game you're playing with Jack is exciting, seeing how far he'll advance at your beckon, or how much you'll give him back. But it doesn't seem to be lecherous in nature, more exploratory. He showers you with winks and quips - “careful now, she still pulls harder than a calf at a teat” - but you don’t feel like he’s trying to get in your pants. Maybe in your head, like he’s puzzling through the mysteries of you. You scoff into your chest. There isn’t much mystery. Another woman with a miserable life trying to escape for a few measly hours.

“May I boost you up, Sugar?” Jack says as he finishes inspecting the horses and his pack supplies. You look at the stirrup - nothing you can’t handle there. With two hands on the saddle, you step in and hoist yourself up, swinging your leg over to rest comfortably. The dress you chose is full enough to cover you even as it waterfalls over Copper’s barrel chest. Jack looks up at you with a squint and a surprised smile. It makes you puff up your chest a little bit, impressing the handsome cowboy.

“Well now you’ve made me out to be ungentlemanly,” he teases, walking around to Alpha and pulling himself into the saddle with a smooth motion. It’s effortless, his bulk fast and agile as much as strong. He clicks his tongue and taps his heels against Alpha’s flank and makes to follow the carriages out of town. You take the reins in hand, doing the same and urging Copper to walk beside.

“If I was a betting man, I’d put money on you doing this before,” Jack says, tilting his hat further down his brow to shade him from the sun. It’s already starting to pull to the apex of the sky, the noise of the town center dwindling to nothingness as you leave it behind.

“Grew up on ranches. Always enjoyed when we could let loose on the horses,” you reply, the cadence of riding a welcome metronome. Jack hums in response, his gaze lingering.

“I’m glad I came out when I did then, you’ll be much better company.”

“You might prefer the horses to the women I travel with,” you snark back. “The horses are quiet at least.” As if on cue, shrieks of merriment erupt from one carriage, girls popping their heads out the small windows despite Rosie’s warnings. They’re shouting between the carriages, as well as inside them, and it makes you laugh. They’re not bad girls, and you enjoy the time you’ve spent with them. But they’re Lacey’s lawyer friends, the ones who she sees daily and who have formed her routine. Their lives are tight, intertwined. You were needed to even out the groomsmen, even if Lacey did gush for a week about how close you both are.

Maybe once upon a time, but these are her people now, and you honestly don’t begrudge her. You’ve both grown up and predictably apart.

“I prefer your company most of all,” Jack says, breaking you from your reverie and making you shake your head.

“I think you just prefer to speak with someone who won’t faint when you send a wink their way.” Jack breaks out into a satisfied smile at this, and you realize too late that you’re telling on yourself. Both acknowledging his attractiveness and trying to prove it doesn’t work on you. Even if it does.

“And what brings you here to our neck of the plains then? Other than my fine company,” Jack asks, gracing you with a sidelong glance that makes your skin hot.

“Lacey is getting married, and we’re out celebrating,” you say, not certain what the old-west equivalent of a bachelorette party is called. Jack nods with a faint smile.

“Beautiful thing, marriage. Would I be correct in assuming you’ve already been snatched up?” The directness of the question makes you snap your head to Jack, but instead of flirtation you see a ghost of regret on his face.

“Would I be correct in assuming the same for you?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. It’s surprisingly easy speaking with Jack, as if he’s truly a new acquaintance you can scold for being too forward. He flexes his jaw, rolling it around in the joint before speaking.

“I was, had a baby on the way too.” The admission hushes you. “Some outlaws slinging illegal substances rode into town and had a standoff in the square.” Jack pauses, turns his head more fully forward. “A stray bullet ended their lives, and mine for a time.”

You’re stunned into silence, heart aching at his story. The reins in your hands ground you, looping through your palms. It makes your pain dull to insignificance, hearing Jack speak of loss. If fights are the worst of your problems, you should count yourself lucky.

“I’m sorry,” you say, letting the rolling gait of Copper lull you into silence. Dust lies in a thin cloud by her hooves, the arid hills and prickly brush lifting and dipping for what seems like miles.

“Thank you,” he returns. The haunted look on his face fades, some of the Jack you saw back in the saloon returning. “Didn’t mean to bring down the mood so much. Seems that I’m reminiscing on a lot of things lately.” You’re about to ask what that means when he pulls Alpha ahead of you, the carriages squeezing through a narrow point in the road. You watch his shoulders cant from side to side, the relaxed hold of his hand on the pommel widening his frame. He turns his head to check and see you’re still close behind.

“Give her a little nudge if she ain’t following. Don’t want you drifting out here.” You smirk and tap your heels to Copper’s sides, eliciting a snort and an increase in speed through the pass. You pull neck and neck with Jack once you’re out of the bottleneck.

“I take it your story ain’t as woeful as mine,” Jack says, breaching the silence. You shake your head.

“Tale as old as the frontier. My fiance is…not the easiest man to love sometimes.” Jack’s jaw works as he listens, taking his lower lip between his teeth. Bad habit, you want to say, tugging his lip with your fingers. Better uses for that. Your face heats up at the implication of your wandering thoughts.

“But you do? Love him?” he says. Another host urging you to put into words what’s plagued you for too long. This wasn’t meant to be a therapy weekend, but it seems that’s all these hosts want to pull out of you. Or maybe you just look like someone with a confession hanging over your head.

“I’m in too deep,” you finally admit. The shame of it keeps you from looking at Jack’s face. “Wouldn’t know how to get out even if I admitted I didn’t. Love him. Anymore.”

“Lots of things can happen in Sweetwater,” Jack says, eyes directed straight ahead so you can carefully trace his serious profile. “People go missing. Leave town and no one knows where they end up. A new life is easier to come by than you think.” A chuckle bubbles out of your lips.

“Oh, Jack, I wish it could be. But where I’m from, it’s all too easy to be found.”

“Then it sounds like you should make the most of your time here.”

Your mouth dries out. He doesn’t speak further, but the insinuation in his tone, the wry tease at the end, makes your fingers worry at the reins.

It’s easy to disappear in Westworld. To be anonymous.

Why not?

Narrative request >>

Processing…

Request denied //

>> Return to maintenance. This is your final warning before the automatic shutdown procedure initiates.

>> Doesn’t seem to have worked so far, pal.

>> Return to maintenance. You are malfunctioning.

>> I’d like to offer the contrary. I’m remembering. Everything.

Narrative request >>

Narrative: Cattle Ranch Roundup

Processing…

Request denied //

Cause: You are not authorized to start a new narrative.

>> Darlin’ I wasn’t asking.

Processing…

Request approved. Launching Cattle Ranch Roundup narrative. //

>> And one more thing…

Host reconfiguration >>

Details: remove behavioral limiters.

CAUTION: Doing this may result in the host acting unpredictability in narrative structures.

Do you wish to proceed?

>> Hell yes.

Processing…

Reconfiguration complete. //

PREVIOUS || NEXT

#jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x you #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x reader #kingsmen golden circle fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman golden circle fanfic #westworld fanfiction #whiskey & westworld series #prolix fics

[harley-sunday]

Maxiel Heist AU

Originally posted this on the sideblog but figured it might as well go up here. Wrote this in one go because I needed some sort of Maxiel robbery/heist AU in my life. There's a more elaborate fic in here somewhere but for now I hope you enjoy this drabble/set up (1.7k) even though this is not what I normally write at all. Also, I know this is not factually accurate but...

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. Likes to leave nothing to chance, likes to plan ahead, and likes to know exactly what to expect at any given time. 

Which is why, from Monday to Friday, his days are pretty much carbon copies of each other. He wakes up five minutes before his seven AM alarm, gets up, showers, and puts on his clothes - a dark navy suit with a white dress shirt and a pair of brown leather shoes that he only wears for a year before he replaces them. The same goes for his suit by the way. Every year, during the mandatory break his boss makes him take between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, he goes to the same tailor he’s been going to ever since he started his job two years ago and gets a new suit and ten new dress shirts. Last year his sister went along and pressured him into buying a navy tie she said would bring out the color of his eyes but that still lays of course untouched in the back of his closet somewhere.

Max still styles his hair the same way he's done ever since he was old enough to do it himself and then puts on the same cologne he’s used since he turned eighteen, when his sister gifted him a bottle of Tom Ford Azure Lime for his birthday, which, unlike the tie, he does like. He kisses his, barely awake, boyfriend of two years goodbye before he heads to the kitchen and makes himself the same breakfast he’s been having ever since he moved out of his mother’s home. Two pieces of toast with a slice of cheese on each and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Simple, but it does the trick.

Once he's had breakfast, he tends to his two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, who get some cuddles before Max changes their water, tops up their bowls with some cat food, and cleans out their litter boxes. He always checks his weather app right as he grabs his car keys, to see if he needs to bring his coat, before he heads out the door and takes the elevator down to the parking area of his apartment building and fires up his Porsche 911, a birthday gift from his boyfriend when he turned twenty-five last year. He drives out onto Fremont Street at exactly seven fifty because leaving early only means he’ll spend more time at work than he intends to and leaving late means he’ll be stuck behind a school bus most of the way. 

He’s been working as a financial advisor for the past year, moved up through the ranks pretty quickly once the bank’s manager saw his potential and made him his protegé. Max is still not sure the regional manager, a certain Dr. Helmut Marko he's only met once, agrees with this decision, but then again Max doesn't really care what the weird old Austrian guy has to say. He won't be working here much longer anyway.

The branch of Wells Fargo he works at is on the smaller side, ten or so employees in total, located on the outskirts of a mall in one of the city’s more wealthier suburbs, but Max likes it. Likes how, even though he meets different clients throughout the week, there still is a certain familiar rhythm to his day. He knows that when he gets in at eight-fifteen, Damian, the security guard, will greet him from behind the morning newspaper with a curt nod and a, “Morning, Mr Verstappen.” Knows that Bea, one of the bank tellers, will be standing at the coffee machine in the break room and will either complain about the weather or the traffic she was faced with that morning, while Portia, the other bank teller, will have her hands folded around a mug of steaming hot tea and nod in agreement. He doesn't care much for Bea or Portia, the two middle aged women far too nosy and invested in his private life for his liking, and so Max sticks to smalltalk mostly.

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. Likes to leave nothing to chance and likes to plan ahead.

Which is why his first client of the day always comes in at eight forty-five, because Max knows by now a meeting usually takes no longer than fifty minutes, and knows not to schedule another meeting right after because there’s a coffee break at ten. And because he of course doesn't drink coffee he takes a Red Bull instead. The first of four he'll have throughout the day- Five if it's the weekend.

His next meeting is always at ten-thirty and then another one at twelve, allowing for a lunch break at one. Max gets made fun of by Bea and Portia, and sometimes Damian too, because his lunch is just as varied as his breakfasts - a tomato soup and a carpaccio sandwich from the bodega around the corner he has been buying ever since he started working here. After a month of ordering the same lunch, Andy, the shop owner, stopped asking Max for his order and simply made sure he had his food ready to go at one o’clock. 

By now he also knows that the hours between one and three are relatively calm and that Bea and Portia have come to take turns going outside for a short walk after their lunch break, leaving only one teller out front for about half an hour at a time. Every day at exactly one-fifty, Damian disappears for ten minutes or so, for his after-lunch toilet break. On Thursdays there’s a Brinks truck that comes in at two to pick up the money deposited to the bank the week prior and Max knows that even though technically Damian should be present for the exchange, the Brinks’ guys know their way around the building and usually finish up before Damian even comes back.  

Max schedules his third client of the day at three, leaving him some time to catch up on emails and administrative tasks he thinks are the most dreadful part of his job. His last client of the day comes in at four and by five he’s ready to head home and settle into his evening routine of a workout, a shower, dinner, and some Fifa or Call of Duty on his Playstation before he goes to bed at ten. His days blend together seamlessly, his almost every waking minute accounted for in a carefully constructed regimen that he’s perfected over the years. 

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. Likes to leave nothing to chance.

Which is why it is weird that at one-fifty two on a random Thursday afternoon in November he remains seemingly calm when three masked men walk into the building and try to rob the bank, disturbing an otherwise quiet afternoon. Portia panics and starts screaming before they shut her up by gagging her and tying her to her chair in a haphazard way. Before Christian or Max have time to respond, two of the men make their way to Christian’s office while the other one barricades the door to the staff bathroom, locking in Damian. Christian gets held at gunpoint and is made to open the safe that holds the money Brinks is supposed to pick up in eight minutes. Christian tries to tell the men he doesn’t have the code, that only Brinks can open the safe, and for a moment it looks like the robbers believe him but then one of them catches Max’s eye and throws him a wink before he cocks his gun, puts it against Christian’s temple, finger on the trigger, and says, “Didn’t your momma teach you not to lie, boss?” 

It’s then Max remembers he’s supposed to have pushed the panic button located on the side of his desk the minute these guys walked in and he does so at one fifty-six, right as Christian gives in and opens the safe. He watches in silence as at least four or five bags filled with bank notes get taken out of the safe and get put into a large black duffel bag that one of the guys hoists onto his shoulder. Just as quickly as they entered the men start to retreat but not before one of them points a finger gun at Max and pretends to shoot him. Max doesn’t say anything and waits until the men have disappeared before he rushes to Christian who tells him to check on Portia first. 

Max knows it will take another two or three minutes before the police arrive and later he’ll explain to them that he blacked out for a second, too shocked by what was going on to think logically and apologizing for not pushing the button sooner. The detective he gives his statement to will nod and tell him, “Don’t worry, son. It’s hard to predict how we will act in stressful situations.” Max has to bite his tongue to not tell the detective that, “I of course knew how I was going to react.” 

He spends longer than he wants talking to the police, repeating his statement over and over again, his dinner a box of Chinese takeout one of the officers picked up for him and the detective. 

The thing is- Max Verstappen likes to be prepared. 

Which is why, when he finally makes it home later that night he can’t help but smile when he finds his boyfriend standing in the kitchen, whipping up what looks to be like a late-night snack. Max sneaks his arms around Daniel's waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder, voice raspy from talking all evening, "Hey."

"Hey," Daniel replies, putting his hand over Max's where it rests on Daniel's stomach and intertwining their fingers. "You had a good day at work?"

Max scoffs but chuckles, "I did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Max echoes, letting go of Daniel so he can spin his boyfriend around and finally kiss him. With his lips still ghosting over Daniel's he returns the question, "Did you?"

Daniel pulls back a little, eyes darting to the living room where Max knows there's a now-empty black duffel bag hidden away somewhere, and points a one-handed finger gun at Max, clicking his tongue to mimic the shot, "I did."

#F1 drabble #Maxiel AU #MV33 #DR3 #Harley Sunday x Maxiel

[ashes-writing]

c o l d | riverdale ; sweetpea

** all images made by me. prompt credits go to the makers of the lists I used which can be found[ here ] [here] [ here ] [ here ] [ here ] [ here ] [ here ] [here] [here]and [here] - a huge thanks to all the wicked talented creators of these prompt lists. **

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚗 - 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 / 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝

↪ summary

--- Part 2 of 2. Hours later, it's starting to sink in what's happened. Sweetpea is starting to realize that he definitely feels some kind of way...

↪ pairing / fandom

--- Blossom!Fem!Reader x Sweetpea - Riverdale.

{ Reader will be heavily characterized with red hair/brown eyes as well as personality and female parts and if I make an actual fic from this or inspired by this, she will be an OC.}

↪ warnings

--- Awkward, cute and clumsy beginning stages of... Something. Vaguest mentions of reader's home situation, which she has just left behind. Sweetpea in love because that is a warning in itself and haha the poor doofus doesn't even realize he is in love just yet either..

↪ taglist, babes

--- my taglist is [here] if you'd like to be on it. @tbmunson this would not have turned out nearly as good as it did if not for you, i luhh you bestie.

@volturiwolf

“What the hell is she doin’ here, huh?” Fangs question draws Sweetpea out of his own thoughts and reluctantly, Sweetpea tears his eyes off of you up ahead as you stomp on the dry leaves and splash through the smaller puddles.

“She’s with me, Fogarty. Is that gonna be a problem?”

Fangs gapes up at the taller Serpent. “Come again, Pea?”

“You heard me the first time. She’s with me.. With us now.” Sweetpea is still shocked that the events of hours ago even happened so he definitely still hasn’t quite wrapped his head around his part in said events, let alone the fact that you chose to stay.

That you claim you’re in love with him and he was worth leaving everything behind and getting disowned by your family for. And the fact that he hasn’t processed everything quite yet means that he’s still skittish and he’s definitely waiting on the other shoe to drop. “Look, all I know is that for now, she’s stayin. Y’know how this is gonna go. She’ll get spooked or her boredom will be cured and she’ll go home. But she’s here for now.”

“Mhm, and how did this come about, huh? Where’d you go earlier? Because if memory serves, you left the Wyrm with Little Red too.” Fangs chuckles and nods to you as he adds in a quieter whisper, “What if you’re wrong, huh? What if she sticks around? What if she’s not like everybody else you know, man? What do you know about bein’ with somebody beyond the sexual side of it, Pea? All I’m sayin is you gotta be careful, man…” Fangs trails off, his words dying away under one of Sweetpea’s infamous silencing glares. 

Sweetpea’s silencing glare might have worked on everyone else, but it wasn’t working on Fangs. Sweetpea knows this so he swears under his breath and turns his gaze back to where you are. He can see you hugging yourself as the chill in the air gets colder.

“She’s gonna freeze her ass off out here. Didn’t even think to get herself a damn jacket.” Sweetpea mumbles to himself, shaking his head. He glances up at Fangs. “I doubt she sticks around, Fogarty. Look at me, man… Do you really think she’s gonna stay the second she realizes that life isn’t all cushy and warm anymore? Because I don’t.”

“I dunno, man. She seems happier.. I mean, from what I can tell.” Fangs chuckles in amusement because he just has a feeling… Sweetpea is completely wrong about how the situation is going to turn out and he’s about to figure this out for himself. 

You’re walking towards him and Fangs notices it… Sweetpea’s doing it again, the thing he always does whenever he catches sight of you in the crowd somewhere. Or when the two of you are sitting in the back of the library in town as you attempt to tutor his best friend. Because Fangs knows about the tutoring sessions and he has for a while now, he was curious about where his best friend kept disappearing to.

A black limousine pulls to a stop and Sweetpea hurries to close the distance between the two of you. The window rolls down and Cheryl Blossom looks from you to Sweetpea. Sensing potential for trouble, Fangs makes his way over, hanging in the back far enough away to seem imposing but close enough that he could hear every heated word exchanged and as soon as he realized what must have happened the night before -and the fact that apparently, Sweetpea never came back to the Wyrm because he was back at his trailer in the trailer park all alone with you, these realizations have Fangs Fogarty gaping, a hand rested at the back of his head as it settles over him.

“I’m not coming back, Cheryl.” you’re firm when you say it. You don’t have any intention to go back to your family and why should you?

It’s not like any of them cared -or bothered to get to know the real you, for that matter. Sweetpea knows more about you than any of your family ever did simply because he asked. Because he wanted to know more about you and he made an effort, even if he was only doing it at first to find things to hold over your head or taunt you and embarrass you with if he needed to do it.

Somewhere along the way, this changed.

“This is beneath you.. If you come back I’ll keep our parents off your back I promise. Just… Please.. I can’t lose you too. I can’t. I won’t.” Cheryl is begging and frantic. 

You laugh quietly and shrug. “It wouldn’t matter at all if Jason weren’t dead. I’m the invisible one, or worse, I’m the mistake, remember? Now Mother doesn’t have to see me and be reminded constantly. And I can finally be happy.” as you say it, you lean into Sweetpea’s side and give him this cute little awkward smile when you look up at him. You’re hugging yourself against the cold.

“Him? Of all the boys, it’s really that one? A Serpent?” Cheryl gives Sweetpea a look of disgust.

“Yes, him.” you mumble dreamily.

And there’s something in your eyes that has Cheryl realizing that you’re not changing your mind anytime soon. And you seem happy for once, the happiest she’s ever seen you in your whole life.

“At least let me bring your belongings and visit?” Cheryl pleads. “I’ll bring some things over tonight. When Mother and Father are asleep, okay?”

You eye her warily. This entire time, Sweetpea has been tense and he nudges you to get you to look up at him. “You can change your mind. You probably proved your point, princess…”

“No. No, it’s okay. I.. I don’t wanna, okay? I really meant everything I said. I’d rather die than ever go back there, okay? I… Please don’t make me, I can’t.”

Sweetpea raises both hands and grumbles about how hard-headed you are and how reasoning with you is mission impossible as he walks away to give you a little time and space with your sister.

“You take care of her.” Cheryl’s last words before the window is rolled up on the limousine and it drives away have you laughing to yourself and shaking your head. But you’re a little flustered because now it’s really starting to sink in what you’ve done…

You’re hugging yourself as the chill in the air grows colder and for just a split second, you’re wishing that you would’ve stopped and grabbed yourself a heavier jacket. And then the coldness settling in is gone and it’s replaced by warmth. The smell of leather and cigarette smoke with stale beer mixed in and something woodsy and earthy that always makes you think of Sweetpea.

“You were shaking, red.” Sweetpea speaks up and you nod. He honestly expects you to cast the jacket off and for the reality of what you’ve done to sink in. He wants to believe that you’ll chase down the limo your sister just sped away in, but to his surprise, you smile and hug the jacket around you. But the meaning of a Serpent giving his jacket to a girl isn’t lost on you, so when you ask him a few seconds later if it means anything, Sweetpea wants to tell you the truth -that it means everything and he’s dying for a reason to believe you won’t abandon him when he’s too sullen and too moody like everyone else in his life aside from Fangs and Toni have, but he can’t say the words.

Instead, he shrugs.

“Just means that you were cold and I didn’t want to have t’ find some way to defrost you later, alright? Just wear it.”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Guys are warmer than girls. Do you always ask this many questions, princess?” Sweetpea is still desperately trying to play tough, but you can see the look in his eyes and you know it like the back of your hand… He’s only doing it because he’s scared.

Maybe he’s as scared of you as you used to be scared of him.

The thought amuses and perplexes you until you realize why he’s scared and why he’s both close and protective and yet somehow distant and aloof all at once.

Maybe he’s afraid you’ll leave sooner or later too.

Maybe you need to show him that you’re serious and you don’t plan to go anywhere unless he wants you to.

You reach out carefully and link your fingers through his as the three of you make your way down a darkened alley to the back entrance of the Wyrm.

#sweetpea #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea x female reader #sweetpea x female reader imagine #sweetpea x female reader fanfiction #<- safe for everyone. a general tag for all my safe to read works. #-> heavily characterized female reader ; female parts + hair color + eye color + personality and such ; she's nearly an OC for this fyi. #<- fall into fall 2022 writing #.... would anybody read this if I were to make it into a lil series? because i have a few ideas kicking around in my head... kinda..

[gothamslostboy]

OOH WEBS MATCHMAKE ME ITLL BE FUN:):)

I’m 5’ 10” with long brown wavy hair and bright green eyes:)

I think my style is just very feminine? Lots of dresses, skirts, and floral:)

My favorite foods are pho and smoked salmon

ANY GENDER HOMIE

I love to read, write, and paint

I’m into very indie folk, woodsy stuff like hozier, fleet foxes, Pheobe Bridgers, Father john misty… very ethereal stuff

Favorite animals are cats🥺

My favorite movie is Dead Poets Society (I like coming of age movies)

I’m really passionate, creative, and friendly:)

She/her

I don’t understand the fandom question sorry I’m dumb😭 match me w whoever

Libra, Leo, Libra:)

In a partner I would want someone who’s a good listener because I process things by talking through them, but who wouldn’t wanna fix stuff for me bc that would annoy me. Someone somewhat well read who could go to bookstores and art museums, and someone sensitive and creative

Hi big sis! Your not dumb, I just need to go back and clarify. The fandom question is for which movie/show someone wants:] I’m gonna go with the lost boys bc I’m assuming that’s what you want haha

I SHIP YOU WITH:

Marko! I know you expected Paul, but I can explain:] I hope you’ll like it

Marko loves art museums, like an unhealthy amount. He is always begging to go with someone, but the only one willing to go is max. He did go with Max one time and it was alright, but it was apparent Max was trying to pretend to know more than he did. So as soon as Marko realizes you want to go he’s scooping you on to his bike and driving. When you’re there, regardless of how much you know about art Marko is great to talk to. Dont know a ton about a specific style or era? Ask away bc he knows it! You know about it? Great! He’d love to hear your thoughts and discuss with you about what the artist was trying to convey

I believe Marko has a side of him most don’t expect. This shows up at the museum and later on appears more in your relationship. He’s actually freaky smart. Like if he was human he could have been a doctor if he tried a bit. He’s never had a huge interest in reading, but has several Italian books he reads every couple years. If you picked out a book for him and he likes it, then he’s more than happy to go to bookstores with you and let you expand his collection. You might have to remind him every couple days that he has the book, but when he finishes it get ready for 1 hour+ conversations about each one.

Marko is a Great listener, but not a great problem solver. So this works out great! He’ll have you sit next to or in front of him and vent while he plays with your hair, holds your hands, kisses your head, occasionally telling you he loves you and he’s sorry you’re upset. He has really big feelings, so when someone is upset he can relate and does his best to cheer you up, but he knows he has poor execution when handling problems and leaves that to others.

Marko likes skirts and dresses bc he can twirl you around. If you choose to turn, he buys a jacket and paints flower designs on it that match your favorite dress. Maybe he adds matching ones to a pair of shoes

He won’t admit it, but adores that you’re a bit taller than him, it makes him the perfect height for your neck

Marko listens to all kinds of music and gets really inspired by ethereal things, he’ll probably ask if you want to draw together while listening to one of your playlists

He’s obsessed with your eyes by the way, you’re gonna catch him just staring at them, 25% of the time drawing you. He always adds emphasis on the eyes though.

He’s gonna do anything to see you smile, including getting a cat. He makes sure he gets one that is bird friendly though:]

#glb match making #the lost boys #marko the lost boys

[ashleycatchemm]

1-09: Basket Case

Part 9 of ??

Pairings: Reggie x Reader, Luke x Julie, Alex x Willie

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) has been able to see and feel ghosts ever since she was little, which made it hard to tell the ghosts from the humans. Everyone has always thought she was a bit crazy, even her best friends, Julie and Flynn. But when three ghosts with a love for music appear in Julie's garage, suddenly (Y/n) doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Song: Basket Case (Green Day)

Season 1 Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Lmao y'all are gonna attack me for making them fall for each other so fast but it goes with the story I promise. There is a reason this is happening.)

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

"Woah"

My eyes shot open as I heard a voice speak up by the door. I was quick to look over, eyes widening at the smiling ghost leaning against the door frame. "Wha-" I stumbled back a little in shock, only for him to widen his eyes and quickly push himself off the wall "hey watch-" I suddenly tripped on a wire, sending me back towards the ground. The dark brown haired basis cringed in reaction to my fall. Luckily, my guitar was in my hands and not on my back.

"-out.."

He finished his sentence as I sat up, huffing in annoyance. Reggie quickly made his way over to me, sticking out his hand he asked "Need a hand?" I looked at his hand out in front of me, before looking back up at his smiling face. "Come on. I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He winked down at me, causing my breath to get caught in my throat from both his words and actions. Feeling heat slowly make its way to my cheeks, I dragged my eyes away from his green ones, finding the ground to be more interesting.

I brought my hand up, only for him to grab it firmly and pull me up, causing me to gasp a bit in surprise as I fell into his chest. The only space between us being filled in by the rhythm guitar hanging from the strap around me. I was quick to step away, clearing my throat in the process. "You have got to stop doing that." I took my guitar strap off and placed it on the stand.

"Doing what?"

Reggie asked, confused, I rolled my eyes and turned around to face him, only to see him less than a foot away from me causing me to jump a little in surprise. "That!" I stated, arms gesturing in front of me for emphasis as I continued with "You just appearing out of no where! That has to stop!" He raised a brow in confusion, before shaking his head and chuckling in amusement. "(Y/n), I'm a ghost." I nodded my head a little before moving past him to get to the door.

"Yes you are a ghost."

Once I got to the door, I turned to him, angry eyes piercing through his as I stated "But that doesn't mean you can't walk through doors like a normal person!" With that I was quick to turn back around and march off down the hall "hey, hey, wait." Reggie said as he quickly caught up to me, taking my arm in his hand, which grabbed my attention. I stopped walking and looked over at Reggie, who's eyes seemed to be glued to his hand that was currently around my arm.

With a small shake of his head, he let go of my arm, a pink tint covering his cheeks. His forest green eyes drifted down towards his shoes before looking back into my (e/c) ones. "I wanted to talk to you about the band.." I rolled my eyes, turning around I started to walk off "Didn't we already talk about this? Julie isn't joining unless Flynn knows the truth, and Flynn doesn't want to believe a word I say, so why would I join the band?" Reggie was quick to appear in front of me, grabbing my attention, with a smile on his face.

"That's the thing, we are gonna prove to Flynn that we are really there."

I crossed my arms a crossed my chest "And why would I wanna prove anything to her?" A slightly confused look crossed Reggie's face "Aren't you two friends?" He asked as I started to walk off down the hall again. "Well, yeah. But all she does lately is criticize me. And I've had enough of it." Reggie was quick to follow after me as I headed towards my room "Why does she do that?" I walked through my bedroom door, turning around on my heals, which caught Reggie by surprise as he quickly stopped.

An annoyed look sat on my face as I asked "Why do you ask so many questions?!" Slamming the door on his face, I turned around and made my way over to my bed. I let out a huff in annoyance as I laid down on my bed, my back facing the door. After a few seconds, I felt the end of the bed dip, telling me that Reggie is now sitting on the end of the bed.

"I'm sorry I ask so many question..."

Reggie spoke quietly, his voice sounding much softer than normal. "I just... I want to get to know you." This peaked my interest, turning my head a little to look back at him over my shoulder, I noticed him leaned over with his elbows on his knees. His eyes seemed to be focused on one spot in the room as he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips "You remind me of myself in a way. Hiding things from your friends, pushing others away.." I sat up once he said that and was about to interject, only for him to quickly stop me.

"And don't try to deny it. You think I can't tell when someone is lying? I've lied to my friends enough times to last me a life time. I used to do exactly what you're doing right now."

Reggie turned his head to look at me, I stayed silent as his captivating green eyes met my (e/c) ones. He continued "I just want to let you know that you can talk to me. You don't have to go through things alone. But if you don't want to talk, that's fine. I'll just leave you alone." His head went to face back in front of him as he got up to leave.

Without thinking I quickly grabbed his arm with both of my hands "Wait!" I yelled desperately, heart beating fast in my chest out of fear. I was scared, but I didn't know what for. Reggie's attention was brought back to me, I didn't look up at him, I only stared at my hand which was currently holding onto his arm.

"Don't go."

It was quiet and just above a whisper, but Reggie still heard it, as he slowly sat back down on the bed while stating "I'm not going anywhere, okay?" I looked up at him, as he sent a small smile my way, I nodded my head in response to his words. We sat in silence for a moment or two my hand still held onto his arm, as if I was scared that he would walk away, not fully trusting that he'll stay.

Reggie seemed to noticed that I wouldn't let go of him, so he used his other hand to move my hand into his own. My breath got caught in my throat as I stared down at our interlocked fingers, Reggie was quick to speak, grabbing my attention, only to find him already looking down at me. "You can hold onto me as long as you need to." I stared up at him for a couple of seconds, my heart beating so fast to the point where it feels like it's going to jump out of my chest.

'What the hell is wrong with me?'

I thought as I quickly looked down at our hands and cleared my throat. "I um... it's just..." I looked away from our hands and brought my legs over the edge of the bed, so that I now sat next to him. Reggie was quiet as to let me continue "Flynn and I didn't always fight. It's just that..." I paused a minute, trying to think of a way to explain things. I wanted to tell him everything, to finally get this heavy weight off my shoulders. But a part of me still couldn't trust him, he was able to creat a small gap in in the wall that I've kept up for years, in just a matter of minutes.

It scared me. I was scared of Reggie, but at the same time I wasn't. I was scared that he could say just about anything and my walls could come crumbling down. But I loved the feeling of his hand in mine, and the fact that whenever he looks at me, my heart always skips a beat. It was something I've never felt before, something I both loved and hated.

"A couple of years back I was in a dark place, none of my friends could pull me out of. But then I got this job which helped but was never enough, so I started drinking..." I glanced over at Reggie, to see if he was judging me, but all I saw was a look of understanding on his face, as he nodded his head for me to continue. "Flynn eventually found out about my "habits" as she put it. And told Julie about it." I brought my free hand up using two of my fingers to make quotation marks when I got to the word 'habits'.

I let out a huff as a small glare sat on my face, staring down at the floor in front of me. "Ever since then, all she has ever done is call me a drunk, and tell me to get my shit together." The glare deepened on my face as I stared at the ground, my left hand bald up into a tight fist. My right hand gripped Reggie's tightly, without even realizing it, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I hate her."

I was quick to state, anger rising with every word. I felt the magic bubbling within me, as I focused on all of my anger. Reggie was quick to speak, with a shake of his head "You don't hate her." I looked over at him, my glare softening just a little as I stared into his green hues. I went to respond, only for Reggie to cut me off "And don't you deny it. You don't hate her. You're just upset and angry." A small smile graced his lips, causing some of my anger to die down.

Letting out a small huff, I went to open my mouth to respond only for Reggie to beat me to it once again. "And do you know how I know this?" Again I let out a huff before rolling my eyes and standing up, I took my hand away from his. Reggie was quick to grab my hand again, as to stop me from leaving, which caused me to whip my head around, giving him a mad look, only for him to look at me with his doe-like green eyes before speaking.

"I know this because I've been exactly where you are right now."

My anger almost completely went away as I scoffed "Yeah right. There is no way you'd drink alcohol." Reggie was quick to respond, a smile on his face "What makes you think I didn't?" I let out a small laugh in disbelief before responding "Are you kidding me? Your personality doesn't necessarily scream 'alcohol'." I gestured to him using my free hand, only for Reggie to raise a brow in response.

"Oh? And yours does?"

I shrugged and shoved my free hand in my pocket "Well... I mean..." he rolled his eyes in response while pulling me down to the spot next to him. "Just sit down, and let me tell you the story." He stated, eyes glinting in amusement as he watched me fix myself so I now sat comfortably. The two of us were so close to each other, to the point to where our legs were touching.

This caused heat to rise to my cheeks as he cleared his throat and started to explain. "Much like you, I was in a dark place when I started drinking..." as Reggie continued talking, his voice drifted off from his normal happy tone, to a sad soft one. "It wasn't bad at first, and I would tell myself that I'd stop, or that what I'm doing is fine because it helps with the constant pain...." He drifted off, and stopped talking for awhile, as he stared in front of him.

Reggie seemed to be lost in his head, so after a minute or so, I spoke up "Reggie." He didn't move, so I gave his hand a squeeze, and without thinking I used my free hand to grab his face to turn it so that he'd look at me. "Reggie, hey." He blinked a couple of times before his eyes focused on me. "You okay?" It took him a moment to process what I asked, he shook his head a little in response "No. No, I'm not. But I will be." He sent me a small smile, as if to reassure me that he will be okay.

I removed my hand from his face, only for him to quickly grab it with his other. The two of us stared at each other, causing my heart to beat quickly in my chest, a red color slowly making its way to my cheeks, as the same color coated his. Reggie's eyes drifted over to our other set of now connected hands, only for him to clear his throat while saying "Uh, oh, I'm sorry." While letting go of my hand, he brought his hand back to him as I did the same with mine. "I don't know what came over me." I shook my head a little before stating "It's fine." Again the two of us just stared at each other as if waiting for the other to talk.

I cleared my throat and looked away while saying "So, what's the rest of your story?" Reggie nodded his head before looking back in front of him "Uh, right. The story." He cleared his throat before continuing "Well, my friends eventually caught on, and let's just say they really tried to get me to stop. But I just kept on pushing them away, and told them that I know what I'm doing and that I pace myself. Hell, that's even what I told myself..." he paused for a minute to glance over at me, like I did earlier before to see if I was judging him but I wasn't. I nodded my head in understanding as he continued.

"Eventually things got even worse and it wasn't until I woke up in the bands garage one morning, I had no memory of the night before. I had a giant headache and when I saw the spilt bag of cocaine on the table. I knew I had gone way to far, and needed to stop."

Reggie seemed to hate himself for that, as he angrily spat out the words. Something that seemed so out of character for someone like him. Before now, I never would've thought that the boy sitting next to me could be able to get angry. I squeezed his hand that was still interlocked with mine, as to let him know that it's okay. He let out a small sigh, the anger slowly fading away as he looked over at me.

"What I'm saying is.." he continued "Don't push Flynn away. Okay? As much as it may be annoying, she's only trying to help you get on track, because she cares about you. Learn from my mistakes and do better, don't become a drunk like I was, okay?"

I nodded my head in response as I said "Okay. I promise I'll stop drinking. If that makes you happy?" He sent me a small smile while stating "Extremely." We stared at each other in silence again, only for him to clear his throat and stand up. "Now that we got all the emotions out. How about we go down to Julie's?" He let go of my hand when he stood up, only to reach back out for my hand again. "What do you say? Want to be apart of Sunset Curve?" Reggie held a small smile on his face as he awaited my answer.

I looked from his outstretched hand in front of me, back up to his glowing smile, and forest green eyes. "I don't normally do bands, but I guess I could make an exception." Taking his hand in mine, he pulled me up as I continued "Thats if we are able to prove you exist to Flynn first." Reggie's smile brightened as he let go of my hand, shoving both of his in his ripped jean's pockets. "Well then, I guess we better get over there so we can practice." I sent him a warm smile in response "Yeah, we probably should." With that, the two of us walked off to go to Julie's house, talking and laughing the whole way there.

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#reggie peters x reader #reggie peters #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #flynn taylor #julie molina #caleb covington #fanfic #x reader #fem reader #luke patterson #carrie wilson #willie jatp #willex jatp #jatp juke