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krirebr · 5 months

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Beyond These Walls in Front of Me

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Andy brings you into a new part of your home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, training, references to punishment, isolation - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here is the winner of the poll I posted last week, asking you all to help me choose the next part of this AU to work on. Of all the options, this was the one that was least fleshed out in my head, but I really like how it turned out! A quick reminder that this is an out-of-order AU, so this one is obviously after reader's first day but before Christmas.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who always tolerates me sending countless screenshots and answered my endless questions of "Is this too much? Not enough? Does it make sense??"

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up at the buzz of your wristband. Andy’s arm was slung over your side as he snuffled into your neck in his sleep. You took a moment just to breathe, to gather your strength for the day. You could afford that time, you hoped. You didn’t think it’d put you behind schedule. Then, you got up, exceedingly careful not to disturb the man who shared your bed. You had learned your lesson, there. It was time to start your morning routine.

You took a shower, and using all the products he liked, cleaned yourself thoroughly. Once you were done and dried off, you applied moisturizer to your entire body. You’d given yourself a manicure and pedicure yesterday, so your hands and feet shouldn’t need attention, but you still double-checked to make sure the polish hadn’t chipped. Then it was time for hair and makeup.

Andy liked the sort of ‘low-maintenance, natural’ look that actually took forty-five minutes so you didn’t have time to waste. You got out all your toners, primers, serums, powders, gels, stains, etc. Thank god for the wide counter and twin sinks because you needed all that room to make yourself perfect for him. You avoided looking yourself in the eye in the mirror as much as you could. You already knew what you would find there. Emptiness. You didn’t need to see it again.

Once your makeup was done and your hair was in one of his approved styles, you tiptoed into the walk-in closet that he’d left unlocked and put on the outfit he’d picked out for you last night. It was a dress. Of course, it was. It always was. You hadn’t worn pants in… well, you weren’t sure how long. Time was slippery these days.

You stepped back into the bedroom to find Andy just starting to stir. You closed your eyes for just a moment, bracing yourself, then went to his side of the bed. With a gentle hand, you brushed his hair back from his face, then placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sir,” you cooed. Your hand traveled down from the top of his head to cup his cheek, just how he liked, and he nuzzled into it as he hummed sleepily. He didn’t open his eyes though, so you slowly pulled back your hand and made your way to the bedroom door.

You held your wristband up to the sensor and the door unlocked. You knew that if you looked back, you’d see Andy’s phone on his nightstand, lit up with the alert. So you didn’t look back.

As you walked down the hall, you couldn’t help the way you sort of held your breath as you walked past the punishment room as quickly as you could. Andy had taken to leaving its door open lately, in case you needed the reminder. You kept your eyes forward and didn’t look inside.

Once you got to the kitchen, you immediately started preparing breakfast. Andy had mentioned last night that he was in the mood for pancakes, so you got out the ingredients, along with eggs and bacon, and got to work. Breakfast was the most stressful meal to make because the timing was so delicate. Take too long and it wouldn’t be ready when he came out, which would displease him. But make things too quickly and they would just sit and get cold, which you had learned quickly also made him angry. So you kept an ear open to the bedroom and hoped for the best.

It lined up well today because just as you were stacking the last pancake on the serving plate, Andy came out and wrapped himself around your back at the stove. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, so it must be Saturday. That meant you’d gotten to sleep in a little this morning. How nice.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, in between peppering kisses down your neck.

You didn’t shrug him off. “Good morning, Sir,” you said. “Breakfast is ready.”

He made a hungry little moan into your neck. “Everything smells so fucking good. Including you.” He finally let you go, picked up the cup of coffee you had ready for him, and took his seat at the table.

When you brought the food over to him, he tilted his head up in expectation. Without grimacing, you lowered your head and kissed him. He took control, as always, with a hand on the back of your head. The most important thing was not resisting him. You’d learned that the hard way.

Once he released you, you started to move away so you could make your own breakfast (oatmeal and fresh fruit like usual), when he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Hold on,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Your stomach dropped. No. What had you done wrong?? You’d been trying so hard to be good! You were good. You were.

You nervously glanced at him to find him looking at you curiously. He held your gaze for a moment, then commanded, “Kneel.”

You froze, for just a second. This was new. You weren’t sure where it was going. Maybe he wanted you to keep his cock warm while he ate. You could do that. You could. You could do a lot of things if it kept you out of the punishment room.

You dropped to your knees at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes and a wide smile bloomed on his face. He gently cupped your cheek with his hand and cooed, “Such a good girl.” Then he straightened his hand and tapped your cheek twice with his fingers. “Get up, sweetheart.”

You stood up, visibly confused, and let him guide you onto his lap. He just held you there for a bit, just stroking his hand up and down your arm. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’ve been so good lately. So obedient. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been trying. How much you’ve improved.”

You didn’t need any prompting to say, “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. That’s why I think you’re ready.”

Your brows furrowed. “Ready for what, sir?”

The smile he gave you was gentle, proud. “To move upstairs with me.”

“Upstairs?” you gasped. You didn’t know how to react to that. Upstairs had always been a far-off future thing. Just do what he says so you can get upstairs had always been the mantra, but now that the time had come, what did it mean? What should you do?

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said. “Upstairs. We finally get to start our lives together.”

“I–” you started and stopped, suddenly overcome by fear. You didn’t know what was upstairs. You only knew the basement, only knew what to expect in the basement. “What do I need to do, sir?” you finally asked.

“Right now,” he said, his tone full of amusement, “why don’t you get me another cup of coffee? Then you can make yourself breakfast and when you’re done eating, clean up the kitchen. I’ll take a shower after breakfast, that should give you some time. Then I’ll bring you upstairs.”

You hated the relief you felt at knowing what to do. “Yes sir,” you said as you scrambled off his lap and headed straight to the coffee maker. Andy watched you with a satisfied grin on his face.

You turned around halfway up the stairs, Andy right behind you. “You’re sure this is ok, sir?” What if this was a trick or a test? What if he changed his mind when you got to the top and you’d be punished?

He just raised an eyebrow. “Are you second-guessing me, sweetheart?” His tone was still light, but you knew you’d messed up.

You shook your head frantically. “No! No, sir. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”

He brushed his fingertips down your cheek. “I know you will, sweetheart. Now, turn around and keep going.”

You did as he said and finished climbing the stairs. When you got to the top, you tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. You held your wristband up to the sensor but nothing happened. Oh god. As you started to turn around to ask him what to do, he crowded into you, pressing you into the door, covering you with his body so you couldn’t see what he was doing. But you heard the beeps of a keypad.

And then his arm wrapped around your stomach to hold you as he opened the door and he was nudging you onto the main floor.

The first thing you noticed was how bright it was. There were windows! Sunlight was streaming in. As soon as Andy let go of you, you ran to the nearest window and turned your face up into the light. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you swore you could feel the sun’s warmth through the glass. You hadn’t seen daylight in… you had no idea. You hadn’t been able to keep track of time down there, but months. It must have been months. Tears started to gather in your eyes and you tried to blink them away. He only liked it when you cried during sex or punishments, otherwise you were being manipulative. You couldn’t do anything that would rob you of this sunlight.

“Sweetheart,” he called from behind you. When you didn’t register that, he called your name, a hint of sternness sneaking into his tone. That got your attention and you looked over your shoulder. “Come here,” he said.

You pulled yourself from the window and went to stand in front of him. He put his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now,” he said seriously, “being upstairs comes with a lot of privileges, but it doesn’t mean you can forget all your rules, ok? Or that you’re done training. I expect you to be just as good up here as you were down there. And if we have to go back downstairs, for whatever reason, I need you to know that it will be much worse for you. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, big and genuine and you thought briefly of how that smile would make you melt on anyone else. “You can call me Andy now, sweetheart. That’s one of the privileges I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, the honorific so engrained in you it just tumbled out. “I mean, Andy,” you corrected yourself hurriedly, committing the new rule to memory. “Thank you, Andy.”

He cupped your cheek. “You're welcome sweetheart,” he cooed. “I am gonna miss the way you say ‘sir,’ though,” he added with a lascivious glint in his eye.

You stood as still as you could as he ran his thumb under your eye, collecting the tears that had gathered there. He looked you dead in the eye, and you couldn’t help but lower your eyes in response. “Come on,” he said, with a grin in his voice. “Let me give you a tour of the house.”

He took you into the kitchen first, of course, and immediately started extolling all its virtues, but you couldn’t hear him. And you could only see one thing. On the stove, in the middle of all the controls, was a digital clock. It read 10:37. It was the morning because of the light streaming through the windows. (There were even more in this room. There were windows everywhere.) And it was Saturday because Andy was home today and he hadn’t been home yesterday. It was 10:37 on a Saturday morning. Holy shit. Downstairs, you hadn’t had any indication of time passing other than the buzz of your wristband letting you know it was time to get up, or start a chore, or make a meal. But now, it was 10:37. And the next time you looked at it, you would know exactly how much time had passed since now. Time would mean something. You wouldn’t be adrift anymore.

You were crying. You couldn’t help it. Andy turned back to you, one hand still on one of the two stacked ovens that were built into the cabinetry as the other moved to his hip. “What’s wrong?” he asked harshly.

You shook your head urgently. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Tell me the truth, sweetheart,” he said, with that tone that said you were on your way to the quiet room, at the very least.

Your eyes darted around the kitchen frantically, trying to find an answer that would appease him. “No, it’s nothing. I’m alright. I just– It’s so much. I’m– I’m overwhelmed. I feel so much.” It was much more honest than you usually were with him, not counting the early days when you would scream what you really thought of him before you understood the consequences. But you didn’t know what else to say.

He took a few steps, closing the space between you and it took every muscle in your body to make yourself stand your ground, not flinch away. As soon as he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, honey,” he said, his tone so much gentler than before. “I know. I’m so happy to have you up here, too. This is going to be so good for us.” He just stood and held you, running a soft hand up and down your back. After a few moments, he asked, “Ready to see the rest of the house?”

You knew the correct answer, so you ducked your head and said, “Yes, Andy,” as he released you. He grabbed your hand tightly and quickly tugged you into the next room.

You absently took in the large sectional, the big TV on one of the walls, more windows, but mostly you were struck by how much bigger the living room was than its basement counterpart. You’d assumed, foolishly, apparently, that the square footage of where you’d been living roughly matched the main floor above it, but as you looked around you were sure that this floor at least doubled where you’d spent the last who knows how long. You couldn’t help the shiver that traveled through you as you wondered what else was down there.

There was a dining room and another sitting room next but you weren’t taking anything in, couldn’t describe anything about this house if pressed other than typical upscale suburban fare. It fit him. You had the sudden, chilling, thought that maybe it would fit you too someday. Soon. If you continued to become who he wanted you to be. Because you already were. As much as you’d tried to stay yourself, especially at the beginning, you felt all the ways he’d ground you down, all the ways you’d changed. You remembered how easily you’d slipped down to your knees just an hour or so before. Just because he’d told you to. You wanted to cry again, but you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t like that. And wasn’t that just all there was?

As you came upon the stairs leading to the next floor, you stopped dead in your tracks without thinking, your hand falling out of Andy’s now lax grip. The front door. It was just… right there. For anyone to use. Anyone to enter. Or exit. A thousand thoughts flew through your mind all at once. You could just run. Right now. Maybe with the element of surprise, you’d get a head start. There were hooks on the wall, and on one of them hung a set of keys, what looked like car keys with a few others. Grab them and run and maybe you could do it! But where would you go? You didn’t know this neighborhood, this town. You didn’t have anyone you could go to for help. You didn’t have any form of ID. Last you knew, Andy had all of your papers and cards locked up in his safe. And those were all the new ones he’d gotten for you. Your original identity, your real one had been destroyed. You knew. He’d made you watch him do it.

As you argued with yourself, on the verge of saying fuck it and making a run for it despite all the reasons not to, you noticed a small black sensor to the right of the doorknob, identical to the ones downstairs. The ones that your wristband would unlock only if it was an authorized time. The ones Andy controlled on his phone.

You looked up to find him already on the first stair, his gaze locked on you. Your indecision couldn’t have lasted that long. Just a few seconds, if that. But, as he stared at you, you felt like he could see every thought you’d ever had. You wanted to shrink back, maybe run down the stairs to the basement before he threw you there himself, crawl into the punishment room, and beg for mercy.

But before you could do anything, he held out his hand. “Ready to see the bedrooms?” he asked. His face was completely blank, his tone betraying nothing.

You tried to do the same, to not shake or look or sound guilty as you said, “Yes, Andy,” and took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.

On the second floor, he brought you down the hall, bypassing several doors before pulling you into the room right at the end. It was huge, was your first thought. So much bigger than the room you’d spent the last who knows how long in. The walls were painted a light blue-gray, all the furniture – dressers and nightstands, a much darker gray. The bed was one of the biggest you’d seen, Californian King at least, maybe even Alaskan. It was covered with plush, fluffy bedding and lots of pillows, all in different shades of blue, with a light gray, stuffed, and quilted headboard resting against the wall. It all screamed luxury and relaxation. You were reminded of those home improvement shows you used to watch when you had the freedom to. They’d talk about how your bedroom should be a sanctuary, everything chosen to inspire relaxation and calmness. This was the sort of room they were talking about. You could have laughed, as all you could feel was the foreboding presence of Andy, standing by the door, watching your every move. You’d never relax in here.

You continued to explore the room, trying to act like you couldn’t feel his suffocating gaze on you. Your eyes slid over the ensuite to the two walk-in closets. You immediately noticed that there were no locks on the doors. Did that mean you’d be allowed to pick out your own clothes? And did that even matter if everything was chosen by him in the first place?

You turned back to find that he’d taken several steps closer to where you stood in the middle of the room. “I know,” he said, “that I should’ve shown you the other rooms first, but I’ve been desperate to get you inside our room, see what you look like in it.” His arms came up around you, pulling you tight to him. “You’re perfect. You fit perfectly. In this whole house. You feel it too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said by rote, but you did feel it. You knew exactly what he meant. You fit perfectly, just like the nightstands, or the couch downstairs, all the tables and chairs. Just another piece of furniture that he picked out specifically to make his home perfect.

His hand came up under your chin, tilting your face so that you had to make eye contact. “I’m so happy I bought you,” his words chilled you as he went out of his way to remind you of your place here. “You were worth every penny.”

You closed your eyes for the shortest moment, letting yourself feel the horror. Then you opened them, met his gaze, and said, “Thank you, Andy.”

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#dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber #defending jacob #basement wife au #dark fic #dark!fic #fanfic #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #kris wrote something #reader insert

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darlingdarkly · 8 months

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New Year, New You Part 4

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.9k words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, Exhibitionism without any exhibition

Part: 1, 3, 5

It’s too late for things to change, you see that now. He’s taken it to the next level, one you couldn’t possibly have imagined. Time has passed and as it did the situation between you has progressed. You don’t make videos of your homework assignments anymore, Johnny oversees them. Your sessions, while they’re still structured and progressive towards your goals, the goals he’d set for you, they’re now spaced intermittently with chaste make out sessions.

You pushed your limits on your reps, doing fifteen of an exercise instead of ten? Make out session. You stretched just a bit further, legs nearly full split? His lips crash to yours in bruising haste. You ran a full twenty minutes with no rest? His tongue is in your mouth, exploring the depths of it, using the advantage of your jelly legs to push you how he wants you. You can see what he’s doing, you’re not blind.

He’s Pavlovian in his tactics, positive reinforcement, emphasis on the force, but it's working. You find yourself pushing your limits, just to feel the push of his lips. Driving yourself farther, faster, better so he’ll drive you up against the wall.

It’s debilitating, the intensity of his kisses. They have a certain dizzying quality that makes it hard to resist or think or even breathe really. What you haven’t done is fuck, and that’s not for a lack of trying. Johnny has, on multiple occasions, initiated but you kept finding ways out.

Several occasions he’s pushed a hand down your sweats, fingers rubbing against your clit in heated circles. Brazenly out in the middle of the gym he’ll pull you back against him, to the outward eye it appears he’s just correcting your form but in reality all he’s really doing is rubbing his hard cock against the back of your thighs, enticingly. It’s a promise, a tease to your ruination. He’s hungry, had one taste of seeing you fall apart and now he’s on a warpath to make it happen around his cock.

But you’re stalling, nothing, besides heated kisses and frenzied groping has happened since your FaceTime encounter and you can feel Johnny growing impatient. It’s been a week since you walked into Baliquinox for the first time and you think it’d be like any other session but when you come in Johnny has a small gift bag in his hand and waves you over excitedly.

You sit down at your usual table with him and he pushes the bag across the tabletop towards you, giddy with excitement like the gifts for him even though you’re the one opening it. You pull away the tissue paper to reveal a small box, you pull it out and immediately recognize it, ads have been popping up on your Spotify for months for the FitBit luxe. It’s gold and gorgeous but also pricey, you know because you looked at them before Christmas as a present for your mom.

The one he’d gifted you is literally the newest, most expensive model, with a regular pink wristband and interchangeable soft gold chain to dress it up. You stare at the watch as he begins to explain its features. He tells you it tracks your vitals, sleep patterns and exercises. It counts your steps, monitors your breathing and stress levels, it’s also waterproof and has a five day battery, on top of that you can get your call and text notifications through it, it’s GPS enabled to track your miles, pacing and the route you took on your walk or run, the damn thing can even track your menstrual cycles for you.

“Oh gosh, Johnny. I don’t know what to say.” He reaches across the small table and takes the box from your hands, opening it and pulling the watch out, the gold chain already attached. “Dinnae have tae, just put it on.” So you do, holding your wrist out while he attaches the high tech jewelry to your arm, You push the button on the side and the little screen lights up, your name flashes across the screen in a beautiful gold scroll before the sensors against your skin already begin picking up on your heartbeat and breathing rate.

Johnny must have programmed it before giving it to you. You thank him, a bit bashful at the expensive gift and let him kiss you when he comes around the table to grab the empty gift bag and box from you. It’s slow but passionate and he chuckles as he pulls away and your new watch beeps, indicating the upward tick in your bpm.

He ushers you away towards the women’s locker room to change and you can’t help but admire the new weight on your wrist, it’s certainly beautiful. You’re pretty sure you read that they are supposed to be paired with a phone, you’ll have to figure it out later. You quickly change and head into the gym, finding Johnny by the machines.

He pulls you over to the mats to start your warmups and stretches. You’ve made progress since you’ve started, your warmups you now have down to a tee and your stretches nearing a full split without whines or whimpers. When it’s time for your first exercise he guided you to the pull up bar, something you haven’t tried yet.

You stand to the side and watch as he demonstrates. Jumping up to catch the bar and pulling himself up until his chin is over the top of it. He drops and repeats, arms flexing as he effortlessly completes rep after rep. His shirt keeps riding up his body with each lift, exposing the flat, toned expanse of his stomach, there’s a dark trail of sparse hair leading down into his shorts, but you remember where it goes from there, growing thicker as it wraps around the base of his cock. You find yourself thinking about it, that night, you’ve been thinking about it a lot actually, every time you pull your vibrator out of the drawer you come to the thought of him watching you. Those baby blues roaming your body, hungry.

You’re pulled from your erotic daydreams by the beep of your watch and Johnny lets go of the bar, standing before you with a sly smirk. “See something ye like, bonnie?” Stupid watch. How were you ever going to get through today with it going off every five minutes and giving you away? He pulled you unnecessarily close to press a few buttons on the gadget and turned it on to activity mode so it’d stop doing that every time it spiked, but not before it sounded off once more with the effect he was having on your body at this proximity.

“Yer turn.” You walk in front of the pull up bar and spin around, facing him. His eyes hold yours as you jump and grab hold of the bar with both hands, dangling from it. He walks forward and his hands brush the exposed skin of your hips and it makes you shudder. “Good, now up.” You lift, the first half is easy but the last four or five inches to get your chin over the bar are the worst.

It doesn’t help he’s so close, never having backed up and you realize his mouth is level with your pussy at the moment. You come down from your first rep and are ready to let go but you know you can’t do just one. “Come on, lass. Again.” You do as he says, lifting your body weight with nothing more than the strength of your arms.

Those last few inches are a strain and you’re not sure you’ll make it, arms quivering as you pull your chin up over it again, your arms go numb and you bring yourself back down but you know you’ve got one more. He can see you’re struggling though and wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs.

“Last one hen.” You lift and you can feel his hands push up on the globes of your ass, gently assisting you. It helps but also doesn’t make it any easier as your whole body shakes with the effort of those last few inches. You’re stuck at mouth level, that last inch it takes to get your chin over the bar looks impossible but then you feel his mouth on the exposed skin of your stomach, kissing you right over your waistline, the soft curve of his lips caressing you ever so lightly and the jolt it gives you pushes you over the top and he allows you to drop, singing praises and pulling your limp body against his.

“So good fer me, bonnie. Ye did so good.” He lifts your chin from his chest and kisses you, his mouth swallowing yours and instead of just basking in it, letting him damn near consume you like usual you kiss back, matching his pace and pushing your tongue in his mouth for a change. He growls and it’s a rumble you can feel as well as hear, a rockslide in his chest. When you pull away his eyes are deadly serious and that little voice in the back of your head is screaming at you that it’s dangerous, like eyeing up a predator but something else in you is failing to care.

You’ve had about enough of this little game. The back and forth, the teasing touches, the soaked panties. You don’t avert your gaze and his head tilts just slightly, challenging. It’s visceral and exhilarating this line you can see drawn in the sand before you as you anticipate the crossing of it. You reach forward with bold, calmness and glide your hand along the imprint of his cock, teasingly fondling the length.

You had meant to just tease him back a little, give him a taste of his own medicine for once but the effects were more drastic than you’d anticipated and the reaction was immediate. It’s the first time you’ve ever shown him any kind of sexual initiative and it’s all it takes. Suddenly he’s dragging you through the gym with urgency. You think you know where he’s going until he makes a detour, hauling you down the hall and into one of the big glass rooms where classes took place that was currently empty.

You watched as he picked the tablet up from its place by the door. He made a few successive taps on the screen and you watched as the glass took on a dim sheer, graying over slightly. The expanse of the hallway was still visible to you but you knew, just as you had seen walking into the gym for the first time that if you were to walk outside you’d see nothing through the glass but opaque grayness.

You had just a moment to marvel at this before he was on you, your face pressed up against the cool surface, hands caught by his behind your back, ass pressed into the seat of his crotch, you could feel something hard there, poking you. He spoke just behind you, the heat of his breath puffing at the shell of your ear.

“Yer playing a dangerous game, hen.” It sends a shiver down your spine, the threat and its delivery, but it fails to unnerve you. You’ve made your bed and are more than ready to lie in it, there’s just one more thing holding you back.

“I want you to tell me something Johnny.” And you can tell he’s growing impatient by the intensity of his thrusts against your ass and thighs, rutting into you through your clothes.

“Ah’ll tell ye the last four of mah NINO if ye want. Anything, jus’ name it.” There’s a moment of anxious hesitation on your part, unsure of where things will go depending on his response, or even if you want to know what he’s going to say in the first place, but you didn’t come this far to chicken out now.

“Why did you pick me out? Why did you choose me?” And he must approve of the question because he chuckles darkly in your ear, moving your body back from the glass to begin stripping you as he answers.

“Ye wanna ken why I singled ye out, hmm? Why I chose ye?” He’s pulled your shirt off and he’s working at the hem of your sports bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air, your mind freezes, your first instinct is to cover yourself, there’s people walking up and down the hallway constantly. Strolling right by as you stand half naked with nothing but an inch of glass and a special electronic filter to shield you from sight.

It shouldn’t make you this wet, being stark naked in front of strangers, strangers who you know can’t see you but you can see them, commuting through the gym like normal while you’re bare and on sinful display behind the glass, but it does. He’s working at your sweats, pulling them down your legs, stooping down as he does to kiss your skin as it’s freshly exposed.

Between kisses he answers. “At first it was just attraction, when ye looked up into me eyes while ye were jogging. I felt something, this urge, I had to have ye. Then after yer exam ye dinnae run away or complain, jus’ did as I asked an’ took everything I gave ye like a good lass.”

He’s tugging at your panties now, stopping long enough to groan and bite into one of your ass cheeks, making you squeal and instinctively push forward into the glass. Your bare tits and thighs smush obscenely against the cool surface, nipples beginning to pebble from the cold as he moves forward to keep you pressed there. One hand coming around to secure itself around your throat like a collar, the other kneading at the flesh of your ass, pulling it apart and releasing it to enjoy the jiggle.

“I dinnae ken if ye’d even come in the next day, but there ye were, and I ken right then that ye were mine. Everything from there jus’ solidified it. The way ye answered all mah questions, even if ye tried to cover it up by complainin’ about bein’ spoke tae that way. When I broke into yer house and ye dinnae call the police, jus’ called me tae yell at me then came all nice and pretty for me while I watched.”

You were filled with mixed emotions. Shock, shame, growing horror, but most of all, overtaking the rest was arousal, pure lust. You sucked in a breath as his fingers dipped down, stark naked as you were, it’s all it took to feel the evidence of it as it coated your thighs. He pulls his fingers out, wet with your juices and licks them clean right behind your ear. “Even now I’ve got ye stripped naked and absolutely soaked, and ah’m still fully dressed.”

He’s right, there’s no way to hide or deny it. “Yer just as dirty an’ fucked up as I am, aren’t ye hen?” He slides a finger past your lips, breaching you and you can’t help the moan that spills out, eyes closing in self indulgence, the pleasure staining your self conscious inhibitions, muddling them. He gets closer, harsh and gruff in your ear, demanding an answer. “Aren’t ye?” You whine out a yes that sounds pathetic even to your own ears.

He pulls the digit out and the warmth of his chest disappears from your back, making your eyes blink open and needy whimpers escape your lips. “Dinnae whine, greedy thing.” He presses back up against you, the hard length of him slotted between your thighs, you feel him for just a moment, rubbing the tip up and down your soaked slit before he’s pushing in, full length buried deep in one brutish thrust.

It has your back arching, head falling back against his shoulder as your mouth drops open and a hearty low moan flies from your throat like an uncaged bird. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he gives you time to adjust. When your head dips forward he begins, sawing in and out of you slowly at first, making you groan with each fully sheathed thrust.

“Johnny, please.” He leans forward and nips at the skin of your nape, assaulting your neck and ear with his lips and teeth as he picks up the pace, giving you what you asked for. It feels euphoric, the full stretch of his cock and it puts all the thoughts you’ve had of him, the erotic daydreams, the nights spent touching yourself to the thoughts of what it’d be like to shame.

He’s attentive and sensual, listening intently for which of his movements drive you wild. Your head dips forward and you close your eyes but he’s not having it, gripping you beneath the chin and forcing your head up, eyes opening as he growls in your ear from behind. “Look at them, hen. Can ye imagine what’d they think if they could see ye right now? See this body, beautiful and bare like I can.” His arm slips down and around the back of your thigh, grabbing purchase in the pit of your knee and lifting, your leg comes up, hiked up level to your hip and he holds it there while he fucks into you from behind. You’re pleasantly surprised at the ease in which you can maneuver this way, those stretches finally paying off, almost like it was planned from the start.

The new angle makes him able to slide devastatingly deep, your body jolting with each thrust, moans quickly filling the room, yours and his. You remember seeing the people dancing, their bodies in sync to the music you could feel in your feet but was inaudible to you from outside and was suddenly glad for it as he pulled all the way out before thrusting back in with the snap of his hips and you let out a startled and involuntary noise that was half moan, half scream.

“Sound so good like this, panting an’ moaning like a bitch in heat fer me. Squeezin’ me so tight, does it feel good lass? Better than yer fingers?” You’re beyond words at the moment so you just give him a frenzied nod, head leaning forward to rest on the glass as he lays waste to your cognitive ability. But then he stops moving and it all comes back, although the only thing you can articulate at the moment is whines of his name and pathetic pleas for him to keep going.

“Asked ye a question, lass.” Your mind reels and you start babbling, a series of yeses and broken sentences, anything to get him to start again. His hand snakes up and laces his fingers between yours, as the other keeps a firm grip on your knee, spreading you nice and wide for him.

He picks up a breakneck pace, hips stuttering into yours violently as you just try to hang in there, you can feel it, your orgasm building rapidly. He can feel it too, the way your pussy clenches down around him as you beg him not to stop. “Are ye close, bonnie? Gonna fall apart all over mah cock?” You don’t dare leave him waiting, chanting out affirmations like prayers falling from your lips, if he stopped now you may have a meltdown.

“Do it fer me, hen. Let me feel ye come fer me.” You’re thrown over the edge, whole body tense as he drives you through, quite possibly, the most violent orgasm of your life. Your legs shake in his hold, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back over his shoulder as you all but collapse against him. He holds you up and doesn’t stop, pushing you through it and out the other side into overstimulation.

Your constant moans just spur him on, he can feel his own release building slowly. “What’s my rule on sets, hen?” Your fuzzy brain is having trouble grasping his question, or even the relevancy of it, until it dawns on you and he must feel you stiffen as the implication of it sets in. “Aye that’s right. Tell me.”

You answer in a quiet whisper but he lets it slide. “Sets of three, always.” He drops your leg and the combination of the blood rushing back in, tingling like static and the continued drag of his cock is mind numbing. “Aye, good girl. Sets of three. One down, two tae go.”

His hands come down to grip your hips, pulling you back into each thrust with force. You brace yourself against the glass, the side of your face and both palms of your hands pushed up against it as he ruts into you without mercy or ceremony.

You watch as a set of women pass by the room, their eyes seem to pass right over you without seeing and they stop momentarily in front of the glass for one to share something on their phone with the group, their eyes all widen and they mime a fit of giggles and continue on, unaware of your ruination inches away.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and lightly tugs, pulling your face back from the glass, at this new angle your nipples make brief contact with the glass on every inward push and it drives you ever closer to careening off the edge for a second time. “Johnny! I’m- ah! I’m fucking close! Fuck!” He keeps thrusting into you until you squeeze him for dear life a second time, only then does he pick up the pace, relishing in the way he can alter the pitch of your moans by the little variations in his thrusts.

You’re fucked out, lost to bliss and delirium as you come down from your second orgasm. You can’t possibly see how he could pull another from you until he leans forward, hand sliding down your body until his fingers find your clit and your body involuntarily jerks from the touch, but he just reaches out again and finds it, muscling you into place so you can’t buck away.

“You know the rules lass, one more.” You shake your head and sob. “I can’t Johnny! S’too much!” He’s enjoying the slurred nature of your speech, the pleading tone of your protests, he’s going to come soon, he can feel it. “Ye can and ye will. I’ll make ye. Be a good lass and take it.”

He rubs your clit in frenzied circles and it’s almost painful the sensation, your sensitive nerves too overworked to handle it so your hands come down to grab at his wrist, anything to stop the motions, else you’re apt to lose your mind.

He’s ready for that though, pulling one hand away from the apex of your thighs and securing it behind your back in an iron grip, the other he traps beneath his hand, making you rub circles into your own clit as he guides you.

It threatens to make your knees buckle underneath you as he holds you up and stretches you open simultaneously. He whispers filth into your ear as your eyes roll back and you teeter on the edge of sexually induced lunacy. “Did ye get more than ye bargained fer, hen? Poor thing. All fucked out an’ creamin’ all over mah cock? Yer gonna do it again, lass. One more fer me and I’ll let ye rest, aye? Be a good lass an’ come again.”

He pushes you over the edge for the third time and your whole body shakes, convulsing around him as you lose the battle against your pleasure and ultimately succumb to it. He feels his own orgasm closing in and holds it off for just a bit longer while you recover, keeping even steady strokes while your pussy squeezes around him through your aftershocks. When your eyes reopen and your breathing levels in one fluid motion he pulls out of you, spins you around and forces you to the floor.

You open your mouth to speak but he’s stuffing his cock down your throat before you can utter even a word. Your head backs into the glass and he uses your mouth like a pocket pussy, hands bracing on your head as he thrusts into your open throat a few erratic times, his balls sticky from your cum tapping against your chin as he reaches his peak. Loud guttural roars echo off the walls and ring in your ears as he comes down the back of your throat hard and fast.

He pulls out and a string of your saliva connects your puffy bottom lip to his tip for the briefest of moments before snapping. He’s staring down at you, chest heaving from the exertion of his climax with the slyest smirk on his face and a twinkle of satisfaction in his bright blue eyes.

He stoops down to your level, face to face when he speaks next, slightly hoarse. “Did ye swallow?” He asks as if you had much of a choice coming down the back of your throat like he did but before you can even answer he’s pulling down on your bottom jaw with his thumb. Your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as he tilts your head from side to side and groans. A wave of panic surges through you as he leans in and kisses you passionately, tongue invading the space of your mouth as he tastes his cum off your lips. His hands cup your face as you begin to worry he’s gearing up for a second round.

He must feel you tensing under his touch because he pulls away and smooths your hair as he calms you. “Dinnae worry hen, just three fer today. We’ll stretch yer limits another time.” The promise of more makes you shudder and he helps you up off the floor to clean you up and help you redress, it’s hard because your limbs seem to refuse to cooperate as your mind commands them to, too shaky and loose to comply.

When you’ve dressed and regain your ability to walk he ushers you down the short hallway and into a seat in the smoothie alcove where he walks up to the counter, once more skipping the long line and orders you a smoothie, but not without mentioning you’ve just been through a very intense session and need it immediately, to your embarrassed dismay.

He walks back over to the table, drink in hand and sits across from you, smug as can be as you take it from him and drink. Moaning quietly as the cool drink slides down your sore throat. “Good?” He asks. And you non verbally nod to signify your content, still untrusting of your ability to articulate as of yet. “Good.”

You’re not sure where things will go from here, a secret part of you that speaks from deep in the back of your mind, where your true subconscious desires reside is scared that now that he’s had you he will be done with you. You push that thought back down into the murk of your subconscious, it doesn’t help and all of the context clues suggest it’s not true but that doesn’t stop it from bubbling to the surface.

It also doesn’t help when he tells you not to worry about your homework tonight. You sit, a bit dejected in your seat and try not to let disappointment seep into your tone. “Oh, ok.” And failing. He seems to pick up on it and leans forward and settles a hand overtop yours from across the table. It’s warm, and the touch of his skin is something you won’t admit that you really needed at that moment.

“Jus’ dinnae want ye sore, bonnie. Ye can still call me tonight if ye’d like.” You nod in agreement and after you’d finished your drink, you got up, grabbed your things from the locker room and left.

Johnny watched from his phone as you made the trip home, watching the blip on the map making various stops and turns until it reached your address. He got home and monitored it all through the night as you cooked, took your shower, caved and made your call to him and then hung up to go to bed.

He watched as your bpms slowly rose and spiked as you climaxed for the fourth time that day, reliving the day's events in vivid memory and wished it was his hands rubbing circles against your clit and playing with hard nipples until you saw stars. He continued to watch as your respiration levels evened out and the app indicated you’d started your sleep cycle.

In the morning he read your sleep logistics, learning you reached rem sleep, dreamt and even woke up twice in the night to pee. He picked it up in between reps during his workout and watched your stress levels while you were at work, the early morning rush had you on edge, you chilled as lunch time came around and then spiked again right after until it came close to quitting time and you relaxed as soon as you’d clocked off.

He sat in the smoothie alcove and watched your little blip get closer and closer until you were right outside. You turned into the building and he looked up to see you crossing the lobby towards the check-in desk, returning your pleasant smile and wave as he locked his phone and put it away so you could begin your next session.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod soap #cod x reader #dark!johnny #twdubcon #soap x reader #dark fic

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wosoamazing · 8 days

Text

Confessions

Beneath the Surface | Future | December 2025

I know there is a jump in the story and I may fill in bits later but if you have any questions regarding Issy's character or Issy & R's relationship let me know and I will answer them. I am happy to do more future relationship parts if you have any requests

“You’re stunning,” Issy said as she met you at the entrance to the club, having been waiting for your arrival, Lucy making her get there early so she and Ona could spend more time together. It was the lionesses ‘annual’ Christmas party, which meant you were allowed in the club even though you were underage.

“Yeah, if I were a pregnant woman,” you complained playfully, your stomach was quite bloated, something that thankfully didn’t actually happen much.

“I mean you’re quite literally glowing,” she egged you on, referring to the glow in the dark wristband you had to put on, it being the ‘subtle’ indicator of your underageness, you rolled your eyes and groaned at her, before she threw her arm around your shoulder.

“I didn’t want to come anyway, but Leah made me, and then they gave me this,”

“Well I’m glad you did come, it would’ve been boring without you,” Issy told you sincerely, before walking you over to the bar, to get you both soft drinks, even though she was 18 she didn’t drink.

You'd been walking around talking to other people and playing some games, when she noticed you’d gone more quiet.

“You okay?” she subtly whispered in your ear.

“Can we go sit, I just-” “of course,” she cut you off before pulling you towards a booth where some of the arsenal girls were sitting. You slid in first before she sat next to you, your thighs touching as you dropped your head to rest on her shoulder. Her arm was wrapped around your back as she subconsciously rubbed her hand up and down your side. The girls around you not batting an eye at the intimacy, which probably was bordering the edge of things friends do, however it had been some time since you and Issy had been friends, only growing closer with every year, and although some of the girls suspected there was something going on between you they all decided to stay out of it, respecting your privacy and giving you time to figure things out on your own terms.

“Beth, are you planning on going?” Issy asked after seeing her and Viv with their bags and keys. “Yeah,” Beth replied. “Can you possibly take us back to hers?” “Sure, go with Viv out to the car and I’ll just go tell Leah what’s happening, she can tell Lucy and Maddie,” “Thank you,” Issy said before turning her attention back to you, “let’s go home hey?” she said quietly and you nodded before getting up, walking out with her, and Viv, before climbing into the back seat.

She walked you to your door, unlocking it and guiding you inside. You gave her a pointed look as she shut the door behind you both.

“I’m staying,” she said sympathetically, causing you to sigh.

“I’m fine, honestly, it’s not that bad really, you should just go home,” you tried to convince her.

“No, I’m staying, I’m going to help you,” she insisted.

“That’s not something you want to do, trust me,”

“But I do, I do want to help you. I love you, and I know this probably isn’t the right time to tell you, but it never seems to be the right time. I love you and I care about you. I hate seeing you in pain and I hate how I’m always helpless. I can’t just watch you hurt anymore. I want to be the one who gets to help you. I want to be the one you go to for comfort, I-” “You love me?” you interrupted, taking a step closer, as she bobbed her head slightly, her hands finding their way to your lower back whilst her eyes trailed down to your lips. You leaned in, your lips brushing against hers. Her hands moved up your back, and you placed yours on her hips, warmth spreading through you as she leaned into the kiss. When your lips finally parted, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Your heart raced erratically as you rested your head against the nape of her neck, your hands moving to her upper back.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” she reassured you as a small whimper escaped your mouth, she rubbed her hand up and down your back, until your body relaxed again slightly.

“I’m just going to check on her, do you want to see if Issy is in the spare room?” Leah said to Lucy as they returned home, Maddie and Ona going into the kitchen. Leah was greeted by an unexpected but cute sight after she’d slowly opened your door. You were lying on top of Issy, your head in the crook of her neck as her arms were wrapped around you tightly. “Luce, forget the spare room,” Leah whispered as she gestured to the open door, Lucy quickly joining Leah at her side. “Do you have any objections to it? Like if they tell us?” Lucy asked. “No, and Maddie doesn’t either, they’re good for each other,” Leah replied as she shut your bedroom door again.

“Is she okay?” Your Mum asked Leah, as the blonde wrapped her arms around her waist. “I guess, Issy is with her, so Lucy and Ona are going to stay in the spare bedroom. I think they told each other, she’s lying on top of Issy, like proper close,” “That’s okay, do you want to go to sleep or stay up a bit longer, we should try and wake up before them both so we can make them breakfast and talk to them,” “Let’s go to bed then,”

“Can we not talk about it please?” Issy mumbled as you both walked to the couch, joining your Mums and Issy’s Aunts. “Not until we’ve spoken about it more together,” you added. “If that’s what you want,” Leah said as you both sat down next to each other, you immediately curled into Issy’s side, her arms wrapping around you. “We do just want to say though that we don’t oppose it,” Lucy said and Issy nodded. “You can go if you want, I’m fine here,” Issy said to Lucy and Ona. “You sure?” Lucy questioned. “You’re acting as if Leah isn’t my teammate and Maddie isn’t one of my physios, I’m sure,” Issy replied to her Aunt whole rolled her eyes before getting up, and saying goodbye.

“Do you want some breakfast?” “Yes please, if that’s okay,” Issy replied, “No,” you mumbled, causing everyone in the room to frown. “Do you think you should maybe try and eat a little bit?” Issy asked “Unless you want me to throw up on you no,” Once you were sure your Mum and Leah were in the kitchen you lifted your head slightly to look at Issy, “I love you, thank you,” you smiled at her. “I love you too, I always will and part of that is making sure you’re okay, just like you’d make sure I was okay,” she replied before kissing your forehead.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #wosoamazing talks #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x r #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #beneaththesurface #lionesses imagine #arsenal wfc imagine

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shopcat · 1 year

Text

otay here is every single outfit item steve harrington wears in all four seasons of stranger things including specific brands

8 months combined work an autism diagnosis and 16 hours straight of finishing touches and formatting this post let's go babycakes

billy, edd*ssy, rpf fans dni, pr0ship/fic dni

– NOTES 📌 ★ human error cannot be overcame by one autism boy's realness but i tried my best and everything listed is either 100% accurate and confirmed or is as best as i can do. if it's not listed i just don't know! ★ so while i would say i tried VERY hard for a long time, there is a disclaimer that i just cannot know bc i'm not a professional lol </3 ★ therefore: this is not in any way "complete" or fully sourced, mostly due to the nature of vintage clothing being hard to source even if it's in your hands and i just had pictures, but that's okay because this is mainly a visual reference resource i made for art and not pedantism 😭 ★ feel free to message me if you have any (100% sourced please...) corrections or additional finds!! ★ EVERY item is vintage and dated give or take, '80 - '95 with a few things sitting even older. if you use this post to try and source any of the items for personal/cosplay use this is important to remember for screen accuracy's sake (but not entirely necessary either lol. for example you could definitely just cop any old similar cut of his plain sweaters, etc. but things like the leather jacket or vest would be more accurate as genuine vintage! whereas i recommend getting new shoes just for them being in good condition if anything... go with ur gut!!) ★ heavy on formatting for clarity and organisation, if you need a plain text version contact me! ★ in appearance order: 23 complete outfits, minus what he wore to barb's funeral because...? well duh ★ YES I'M CRAZY!!!!!

– WATCH ⌚

he wears a watch on his left wrist with every single outfit (including in the upside down)

season 1 ➜ season 2: Russian Soviet military style wristband, 16-18mm chestnut brown leather with light stitching, sterling silver detailing and white clock-face season 3 ➜ season 4: a Hamilton CLD (most likely) dress watch, 16-18mm walnut brown leather wristband, gold detailing and white clock-face

1. BLUE LONG-SLEEVED BLUE STRIPED POLO [season 1, episode 1] ★ light blue H R Robinson's long-sleeved polo with blue stripes, tucked ★ khaki trousers ★ navy canvas and brown leather Tommy Hilfiger belt with brass buckle ★ black socks ★ mahogany brown leather loafers with suede laces ★ yellow canvas duffle bag with white straps

2. GREEN SWEATSHIRT [season 1, episode 2] ★ green raglan mixed fabric sweatshirt ★ Levi's dark wash jeans ★ no belt ★ black Adidas Original Superstar's

3. YELLOW POLO [season 1, episode 3] ★ yellow and grey striped Le Tigre polo ★ Levi's grey jeans ★ no belt ★ black Harrington jacket with silver detailing ☆ slash pockets with silver buttons ★ black Nike Classic Cortez's

4. BLUE LONG-SLEEVED MAROON STRIPED POLO [season 1, episode 4] ★ light blue H R Robinson's long-sleeved polo with maroon rugby stripes ★ Levi's black jeans ★ no belt ★ red Nike Bruin's

5. GREEN LONG-SLEEVED POLO [season 1, episode 5] ★ forest green long-sleeved polo with dark green rugby stripes ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ black Harrington jacket with silver detailing ☆ slash pockets with silver buttons ★ red Nike Bruin's

6. GREEN SWEATSHIRT 2.0 [season 1, episodes 6 ➜ 8] ★ green raglan mixed fabric sweatshirt ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ black Harrington jacket with silver detailing ☆ slash pockets with silver buttons ★ red Nike Bruin's ★ Louisville Slugger driven with industrial nails

7. CHRISTMAS SWEATER [season 1, episode 8] ★ green Eddie Bauer Christmas sweater ★ maroon polo collar only ★ khaki trousers

8. MAROON LONG-SLEEVED POLO [season 2, episode 1] ★ maroon Brook's Brothers long-sleeved polo with blue rugby stripes ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ Ray-Ban 1983 Wayfarer sunglasses ★ blue Harrington jacket ★ original design Nike Classic Cortez's

9. PUFFER VEST AND POLO [season 2, episode 2] ★ dark blue long-sleeved rugby striped polo ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ navy puffer vest with matte plastic shank buttons

10. RISKY BUSINESS HALLOWEEN COSTUME [season 2, episode 2] ★ black tweed suit jacket ★ black fitted cotton tee-shirt ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ Ray-Ban 1983 Wayfarer sunglasses ★ original design Nike Classic Cortez's

11. GYM UNIFORM [season 2, episodes 3 ➜ 4] ★ cotton tee-shirt, printed with "Hawkin's Phys Ed" green gym shorts with triangular seam cutouts ★ green and orange hem-striped tube socks ★ solid blue Nike Classic Cortez's

12. MEMBER'S ONLY JACKET [season 2, episodes 5 ➜ 6, 8 ➜ 9] ★ navy blue long sleeved cotton tee-shirt with white varsity sleeve stripes, tucked [1] ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ silver-grey Member's Only racer jacket [2] ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ Ray-Ban 1983 Wayfarer sunglasses tucked in jacket breast pocket when not in use ★ grey backpack with black straps ★ original design Nike Classic Cortez's ★ Louisville Slugger driven with industrial nails ★ yellow rubber dishwashing gloves ★ a solid yellow, striped rainbow and red and white comic book speech bubble band-aid post-fight ★ grey gardening gloves in tunnels ★ yellow swim goggles in tunnels ★ red paisley bandana in tunnels

1: definitely was a practical, keeping-warm choice and i'm sure the intention was to have the ensemble pass as a plain, short sleeved tee but a fun little thing anyway:

2: steve wears a technically-modern version of the classic Member's Only but the differences are entirely cosmetic and superficial, like zipper lengths and metal colouring. the fit is the same! notably, he wears the silver-grey model and not the standard grey.

13. RED SWEATER [season two, episode 9] ★ red woollen, knit crewneck sweater

14. SCOOPS AHOY UNIFORM [season 3, episodes 1 ➜ 8] ★ royal blue uniform shirt with sailor's flap collar and attached red neckerchief ☆ white double striped hemming ☆ semi-cropped, box cut with a slightly fitted waistline inset for shape ☆ red and white striped tee-style dickey piece [3] ☆ embroidery patch of an ice cream cone on the right sleeve ★ royal blue uniform shorts ☆ white double striped hemming ☆ white pocket detailing and innards ★ red Scoops Ahoy nametag ★ dixie cup style costume sailor's hat ★ white nylon belt with a chrome box buckle, detachable red tool pocket ★ white apron ★ white tube socks ★ silver Style Auto Carrera design jacket [4] ★ navy blue Adidas Gazelle's with aftermarket blue laces [5] ★ red and white striped undershirt ★ blood splattering on collar post-fight

3: assumedly the red striped dickey piece and undershirt are one in the same. behind the scenes footage shows both, and occasionally joe seems to not be wearing the undershirt... ? 😭 usually sailor style shirts and costumes use a dickey piece for convenience as it ties in more uniformly than just a tee-shirt sitting underneath it's like schrodinger's striped shirt here

4: the same jacket he wears in season 4! notably, the tag is left blank, most likely because it isn't a statement piece unlike in season 4. note the ring pull collar, black pocket button detailing and the visible black zipper that points towards the Carrera design:

5: missing the Gazelle gold lettering, either faded due to them being vintage or purposefully removed for screen

15. COCA-COLA COMMERCIAL [season 3, set post-episode 2, pre-episode 3] ★ white windbreaker with red elastic cuffs and accent detailing ★ white cotton fitted tee-shirt, tucked ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ black Nike Bruin's

16. MARTY MCFLY VEST [season 3, episode 8] ★ dark wash and red denim two-tone Guess Jeans sleeveless vest ★ fitted white cotton tee-shirt with blue and yellow varsity striped sleeves, tucked ★ Levi's 501 dark wash jeans ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ black Nike Bruin's

17. WHITE HENLEY [season 4, episode 1] ★ white long sleeved cotton henley ☆ silver pop buttons ☆ two matching decorative zips on the sleeves ☆ fitted hem ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ Family Video name tag [6] ★ green Family Video vest

6: to me the sticker he put on it looks like a simple gold star, but it could also be the "Be Kind, Rewind" slogan with a smiley face design, or some sort of assistant manager/ask me anything-type sticker!

18. PURPLE POLO [season 4, episode 2] ★ purple criquet Arthur Stripe polo, tucked ★ Levi's 501 dark wash jeans ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ Family Video name tag ★ green Family Video vest ★ silver Style Auto Carrera design jacket ★ red Nike Bruin's

19. STYLE AUTO JACKET AND POLO [season 4, episodes 3 ➜ 4] ★ navy polo with a white horizontal band stripe and white sleeve hemming, tucked ☆ fitted, or potentially a size too small ☆ yellow shadow striping ★ white cotton tee-shirt ★ Levi's 501 light wash jeans ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ silver Style Auto Carrera design jacket [7] ★ red Nike Bruin's

7: the original Style Auto patch has been removed for licensing/circulation issues, or, the jacket is just potentially not the actual name brand version and instead an adopted design therefore brandless. or it fell off i don't know. the plastic insert on his breast (haha) now reads a custom generic 80's label:

20. YELLOW SWEATER [season 4, episode 5] ★ yellow crewneck raglan cotton sweater ☆ fitted cuffs and hem ★ grey cotton chinos [8] ☆ elastic waistband with drawstring ☆ printed blue patterned cuff hem ★ white socks ★ red Nike Bruin's

8: for some reason the Quiksilver x Stranger Thing's "The Steve" pants are actually an almost… 95%? exact recreation of the pants he wears in-show. and like, despite being listed as a collab with the wardrobe dep this is the first time i've seen any sort of replica clothing for something like a random character's pants but it's cool! there may be a little variation in the exact patterning but even to my super perfectionist eye they do seem identical/highly similar :). i belieeeeve what would have happened is the wardrobe made the pants, and Quiksilver received the design to then streamline for their own version. the Quiksilver version has printed pocket linings including the welt of the back pocket, whilst the on screen version are unprinted except for the hem.

21. EDDIE'S BATTLE JACKET [season 4, episodes 7 ➜ 8] ★ Levi's light wash trucker blanket-lined jacket ☆ sleeveless, distressed ☆ hand stitched Iron Maiden, Megadeth, Motörhead and Leviathan Cross patches ☆ hand stitched Dio, The Last in Line's album cover tee-shirt on back panel ☆ Judas Priest, W.A.S.P., Accept and Mercyful Fate pins personally i would omit wasp/mötorhead in recreations/art/etc but that's just me... ★ grey cotton chinos ☆ elastic waistband with drawstring ☆ printed blue patterned cuff hem ★ barefoot (lol) ★ torn cotton cloth wrap field bandage

22. WAR ZONE OUTFIT [season 4, episodes 8 ➜ 9] ★ type A-2 brown leather flight jacket ☆ custom patches ☆ second-hand in-show ★ camo print cotton tee-shirt ★ long cargo pants ★ M-1955 marine's flak jacket ★ vintage Vietnam jungle boots ★ wooden axe, Molotov cocktails

23. BLUE HENLEY [season 4, episode 9] ★ blue cotton henley ★ white cotton tee-shirt ★ Levi's 501 jeans ★ brown leather belt with rounded end brass buckle ★ blue Nike All Court's

that's all folks!!!

for any shoes or jeans that are off screen/unseen, i would make a safe bet for them being whatever he seems to be wearing the most that season. like he wears the cortez's for the entirety of season 2 even at the halloween party (he is insane) except for in gym so it'd be safe to assume every other shoe would be that one, for example.

★ bonus eddie section: Shot brand black leather jacket with DIY silver chain on the broken sleeve zipper, screenprinted Hellfire Club baseball pattern tee-shirt with the Daydream fontface, texturised. he wears a Casio F-91W digital watch (which he wears... upside down...) and, of course, white Reebok EX-O Fit Hi sneakers

please don't leave inappropriate, weird or sexual comments on this post! they're just jeans 😭

#🍦#sts #okay i'm done making these types of posts forever

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corrodedcoughin · 2 years

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Picture this, Eddie wears those wrist sweat bands and everyone thinks it’s an aesthetic/metal thing so nobody really questions it.

Except they are actually those ant-sickness wristbands and he wears them because he gets car sick as soon as he gets in a car, even when he’s driving the car himself.

He never corrects anyone and for his Christmas Steve buys him new wrist bands that aren’t anti-sickness but Eddie has to wear them because otherwise he’d have to face a sad Steve. Every time eddie comes home wayne watches him stumble in the door and immediately hands him a sick bowl without even looking up from the game he’s watching on the tv.

‘Take it you’ve not told him yet?’

‘No’

‘You gonna?’

‘…no’

#I was going to add more but idk this is everything for now #is this silly? yes. do I care? also yes.#I’ll have a serious thought one day I swear!!!#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington

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wristbandsblog · 2 years

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Wristbands for Christmas

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#Wristbands for Christmas #Christmas Wristbands #Wristbands printed #Tyvek Wristbands #plain Tyvek Wristbands #wristbands #customised wristbands #personalised wristbands

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tea-and-antlers · 1 month

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I have the drawings my friend made me for Christmas in 2017. I took the cactus they knitted me to college; I have the knitted bisexual pride bunny too, and the felted dragon, the embroidery hoops and the fanart.

I have a knitted sock with a message in Morse code on it hanging on my door; I wear a dress they knitted me with reverence for how it feels on my skin. I have a box of stickers they have sent me in letters.

I have the paper cranes my friend made while waiting to drive me home from my IUD appointment. I have the the wristbands from concerts my lover took me to, that bumped his as we held hands and sang along. I have photo boxes full of letters friends have sent me.

I have a million little trinkets and doodles and mementos. They hold spots on shelves and dressers and the fridge and they turn my home into an altar for the small moments of care that pass between us.

Minimalizam is bullshit; I keep all the things that forever physically reminded I am fiercly loved.

#fuck minimalism #witchcraft?#I guess it's my own form of witchcraft #green witch #cass rambles #Yes If you see yourself here #I love you #I love all the gifts you've given me #Kiss kiss miss u all #witchblr #kitchen witch #witch #bean #pagan #witchy #magic

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

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hello!! i hope ur having an amazing day :)) i just wanted to say that i absolutely LOVE housewife. & the way you write is amazing! i turned on your notifications so ik when u update. anyways im not sure if your requests are open or not but if they are could you possibly write a fluff with billy x reader? i was thinking something where billy takes the reader to an amusement park or fair, comforts them when theyre scared of the rides or rollercoasters and wins them prizes and stuff? maybe even have one of those cute cliche endings on a ferris wheel. thank you so much!! <3

I had fun writing this! I hope you like it 💕

Scaredy Cat

Paring: Billy Loomis x fem!reader

Warnings: cursing

"What do you want to do now?" Billy asked as he swug your hand in his. "Ooh you want to ride the teacups?" You pointed to the ride littered with children. He couldn't help but laugh. "That's the ride you can spin however fast you want right?" You nodded looking up at him. "I will make it my goal to make you sick." You went ahead and marked that ride off the list. The bag of cotton candy you had moments ago did not like his plan. "You really are the fun police." He looked at the ground with a laugh.

With the dark sky you could easily pick out the carousel spinning in the distance. Like a dog seeing a squirrel you pulled on his arm taking off. "Jesus!" He shouted trying to keep up. "Come on babe!" You laughed. Once you made it to the ride he smacked your ass for the senseless running you made him do. "Watch it Loomis there's children around. You'll get us kicked out." You teased. "I'm not getting on that." He pointed towards the spinning horses. With a pout you tried to convince him. "Please."

With a straight face he stared at you obviously unamused. "Fine. You ride this with me I'll ride whatever you want me to." Now that was a compromise. "We're going on that next." He turned you towards the biggest rollercoaster you'd ever seen. Suddenly you regretted your previous words. "We don't have to ride the carousel." He smiled pulling you to the short queue. "Nice try."

The ride attendant checked your wristband before letting you on the ride. She looked displeased at you both. "We're the oldest people on here." Billy said seeing the parents watch their kids from the sides of the ride. "But we're young at heart." He wanted to gag at the cheesy line. "Help me up." You ordered as you tried to throw your leg over the tall horse. "Really?" He shook his head picking you up. Once you were seated you responded. "Yes really. Now get on." He gazed at the vacant horse beside yours and shook his head. "Not happening."

"I'm not riding that rollercoaster unless you get on that horse. Plus I think cowboys are kinda hot." You shrugged trying to get him to let loose for once. He threw his leg over the horse right before the ride started. You giggled at the display. "I hope you piss yourself on that rollercoaster." He spat as he looked around the spinning scenery. "I love you too shit head." You blew the boy a kiss before closing your eyes. The overused carnival music was nostalgic putting a fond sense of security in your head.

Billy watched as you smiled. It'd been awhile since he'd seen you so genuinely happy. You laughed like a child on Christmas. He would ride the carousel a million times over if you looked this beautiful each time it started. You opened your eyes catching your boyfriend staring. "What?" You asked over the loud music. "Nothing." He said with a smile. The ride was short lived as it slowly came to a halt letting everyone off.

"You ready?" Billy asked an evil grin on his face. You held onto his arm as you both walked. "No." The closer you got to the ride the more intimating it became. You could hear the screams from riders a mile away. "You're seriously scared aren't you?" He laughed. You didn't understand how he could be so calm about a ride that could easily kill you both. "I don't see how you aren't." He shrugged as you slowly made your way to the front of the line.

"Make sure your legs and arms stay in the cart at all times. Any lost items will not be retrieved so if you think it'll fall leave it out now." The ride attendant spoke as he checked all the seat belts. Your hand squeezed Billy's knowing you couldn't back out now. He leaned over pressing a kiss to your temple. "We're not going to die. If we do atleast you died wearing something cute." You shot him a look. "You always know just what to say." Sarcasm dripped from your words. "Have fun." The operator said letting the ride slowly begin.

"Why'd we have to sit up front?" You asked him as people behind you cheered. "What do you mean? These are the best seats." Billy loved seeing you scared because you always ran to him for comfort. It was one of the best feelings in the world to him. The cart climbed the hill at such a slowly rate that by the time you reached the top you were ready to get off. "You ready?" He asked just seconds before the drop. "Fuck you!" You shouted as the cart plummeted. Billy laughed quickly being shut up by the speed of the ride. After a minute you started to really enjoy it. You held up your hands with the rest of the people noticing your boyfriend gripping the bar across your lap.

"Raise your hands!" You yelled hoping he could hear you. "Shut the fuck up!" He responded as you realized he was terrified. You laughed so hard you thought you were going to die and to Billy's displeasure you didn't stop even though the ride did. "You should have seen your face!" You held your stomach as tears fell from your eyes. "It's not even funny my back is killing me." He complained trying to blame his reaction on something else. "We should go again." You said laughing even harder at his expression. A coughing fit began making Billy smile. "Karma's a bitch."

"And so are you." You said through several coughs. Once you calmed down both of you headed towards the carnival games. "You going to win me something?" You asked as he looked the place over. "Which one do you want?" You pointed towards the little frog stuffed animal. Billy was surprised you didn't pick the biggest thing they had. "Okay here's some money I want you to walk up and start playing I'll be back." You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "Where are you going?" He waved you off disappearing in the crowd. You walked up the worker playing a game by yourself as you were told.

After a game or two you realized how rigged the game was. As you tossed another ring you saw Billy steal that little stuffed animal behind the carnival worker. "Tough break." The man said as you lost yet again. Billy held the toy behind his back as if you didn't catch him. You walked over to him a smile big on his face. "One frog for the beautiful lady." You took it from him trying to figure out if you should scold him. "You could've got caught." He kissed your lips before taking your hand in his. "But I didn't." He was right about that. "Well what are we doing next, and don't say the rollercoaster."

You clicked your tounge. "Damn there goes my plans." He shook his head before he saw the ferris wheel. "How about we ride the ferris wheel and then we'll head home?" Considering the stink he raised over the carousel you didn't think he'd want to ride that. "Really? You want to ride the ferris wheel?" His free hand found it's way into his pocket. "You can't go to an amusement park and not ride the ferris wheel." That was partially true but Billy knew the real reason he wanted to go. "Well lets go. Try not to get too scared on this one okay?" You teased as he rolled his eyes.

Billy held your hand helping you into the cart. "Thank you." You said as he shuffled in after you. His arm laid on the metal behind you letting you lay your head on his shoulder. "I really have had fun today." He chewed on his lip trying to play down the sense of pride he felt. "I'm glad." You looked out at the lights pointing at different things. "Tell me that doesn't look like a penis!" You pointed towards one of the rides as Billy laughed. "Your ability to ruin a sweet moment never fails to amuse me." The cart stopped at the top letting you get a view of everything around you. "Sweet moment?" You asked before Billy cupped your jaw pulling you into a kiss.

He could feel the big smile on your face as you kissed him back. It was cliche but he knew you'd appreciate the gesture. "I love you." He said looking into your eyes. It was the kinda stuff that was in movies. "And you're right that does look like a penis." You gasped at his words. "I told you!" You both laughed at each other. It was a great day even though Billy found out he was scared of rollercoasters. He was just happy he got to spend the day with you.

#scream #billy loomis #ghostface #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #ask #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #billy loomis smut #billy loomis fluff #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x female reader #ghostface x female reader #ghostface fluff #ghostface x fem!reader

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 1 month

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 13

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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I wake up – still on the couch – to the blaring of my alarm at 6:30am, feeling a sense of deja vu. I curse myself for even beginning a fitness routine, even though it’s only been one day. But then I remember I have the opening shift today, and I’m actually thankful for the distraction. I quickly shove the half read and now slightly crumpled papers back in the envelope and into my backpack along with a pen. Now short on time, I slip into the first pair of clean clothes I can find and leave without breakfast. After impatiently waiting for the elevator for approximately 10 seconds I sprint down the stairs and all the way down the street to the cafe.

When I get to the door, the sign’s already flipped and there’s a lineup at the counter. I dump my bag and don my apron as quickly as possible while apologising profusely to Stewie who’s taking orders.

“Just get to work, the order’s are stacking up already.”

I do as I’m told and start rapidly making coffees, fancy hot cocoas and plating and heating treats from the display. I hand off the finalised orders to my coworker who had been rapidly cleaning the kitchen after Stewie’s busy morning. Through fractured conversations between orders I find out that the line up started earlier than usual after word had gotten out that a celebrity had dined here before Christmas. So far though, everyone seems oblivious that I’m the woman in the photo, or if they know they are just shrugging it off as me doing my job and serving him. I’m just thankful for the lack of probing and focus on turning out order after order.

Despite bringing the paperwork with the intention of reading and signing it during my break, with the influx of fans around me think better of it. Instead, I keep my head down and focus on just getting some food into my stomach during my break. After lunch I prepare to go home, when my coworker reminds me, I promised to work a double to swap my New Year’s Eve shift. I sigh, but nod, remembering the deal I made weeks prior. I retie my apron and set about delivering orders to tables. A few keen-eyed fans recognise me from the photo but to my pleasant surprise they just ask about what he was like and what drink he had. I claim to not remember as I serve so many people, but of course I remember every detail of that day, how could I forget?

After successfully evading questions all day and serving at least twice the normal number of customers, I’m utterly exhausted as I flip the sign. Yet, I push it aside to clean the whole cafe till it shines, still feeling guilty for being late and not helping with the early influx.

Needless to say, the paperwork is still burning a hole in my back and mind when I finally get home well after dark. Even so, I know I don’t have time tonight now. I need to spend the little remaining energy to completely finalise the plans for the Bachelorette party tomorrow night. I pull all the sashes, the dressup bridal tiara and plans out of the cupboard and lay them out on the coffee table. I organise everything in individual party bags; one for each bridesmaid and a special one for the bride herself. Each bag is complete with a sash, personalised hangover kit, and monogrammed cup in each lady’s favourite colour, along with the prepaid entry wristbands to a Moulin Rouge themed bar across town. The bride’s bag has all of that plus the tiara and a necklace with her birth stone and Future Mrs. Everhart on it. The whole event with all the gifts have me set back at least a few months in afterpay expenses – not to mention the drinks I’ll undoubtably end up buying on the night – but I know it will all be worth it when I see Stella’s face. She’s done so much for me, it’s finally my turn to attempt to return the favour. It’s after midnight by the time everything is completely ready to go.

Knowing I’ll be out well after it crosses into the new year, I force myself to push aside everything else and get as much sleep as I can, but not before deleting that exercise alarm. I figure that until I can afford to factor in a gym membership, I can be content with taking the stairs – which I already do most days – and being on my feet all day at the cafe. I shake my head at myself; already throwing away resolutions and it’s not even the new year yet.

It's well after nine when I wake up, which is the latest I’ve slept in, in a long time, but I know I needed it. I spend what’s left of the morning going through the NDA and finally sign it. I’m about to send a text to Jensen telling him as much along with an apology, when Stella calls. I know she took a half day today and tomorrow off completely to enjoy tonight, so I just know her excitement levels are through the roof. I answer.

“Hey bride-to-be! Ready to party tonight?”

“So ready! You coming over beforehand? Since you’ve kept it all a secret I need help with what to wear!”

“Always planned to. Uber is booked from your place after all. We’re all meeting there for predrinks and then heading out, sorry I didn’t ask, but I knew you’d be fine with it. I’ll head over soon. Nick’s Buck’s is tonight too right?”

“For sure! Sounds perfect! And yep! Though, knowing him I think it’ll be a pretty chill night. Mine better not be though, it is New Year’s Eve after all!”

“We’re going all out, don’t you worry! You’re gonna love it!”

“The other girls on board?”

“100 per cent! They love it as much as I do, and I much as I know you’re going to. Now stop fishing for hints! I’ll see you soon!” I hang up before she can try to push any further. I look around for something big enough to fit the party bags in as well as my outfit for tonight. After looking everywhere I settle on the box from Jensen. I rip off the postage label to avoid questions if the other girls see it and then take out the dress. I lay it on my bed and then pack everything into the box.

I manage on the subway with surprising ease, having managed to fit everything in a single box. I mentally thank Jensen for sending it because I really would have struggled otherwise. I sigh, he’s helping me in ways he doesn’t even know and yet I pushed him away. I quickly push away the thought, I can’t afford to think about any of that tonight; my complete focus needs to be on the bride-to-be and ensuring the best Bachelorette party she could ever dream of.

When I finally get to her place, I can tell she’s over excited because she opens the door before I even get on the porch. She tries to take the box but I hold tight. “Not yet! You have to wait until the others get here! Patience!”

She pouts and I giggle. She lets me in and I place the box down so I can pull her in for a much needed hug. Sticking to – at least some of – my resolutions and determined to make this day completely about her, I don’t say anything, but I relish in her warm comfort. When I pull away I take the box up to the guest room to take away the temptation for her before she drags me into the master suit so I can help pick out her outfit. I’ve been in close contact with the bestman to make special plans, so I know that Nick will be leaving before us, but I still want something that will surely overwhelm him at the end of the night. I’m also looking for something that will match the Moulin Rouge theme without ruining the surprise.

I explore her closet, rifling through her dresses, most of them are business casual, but I know that she’s a partier, so I just have to find those pieces. In hindsight, I probably could have picked her up something from the thriftstore where I got my outfit – which was surprisingly brand-new with the tags still attached – but I knew she’d have something appropriate. After shifting through and discounting her simple little black dresses, maxi dresses and short clubbing dresses I find one that I’ve never seen her wear. I give her a questioning look as I pull out the stunning, red sequined dress with a mesh midrift and slit in the thigh; it’s almost identical to mine except, mine is a deeper shade of maroon and is velvet instead of sequins. I can’t believe the chances.

“Did someone spill?” I ask as I hold the dress out to her.

“What? No? Is this a hint‽”

“When’d you get this dress then? I don’t remember it?”

“Nick and I planned to go to a fancy dress party a while ago, it was like a gala for a client I was trying to pitch, but that was when I had that terrible chest infection; lost the deal and missed the party…”

“That sucks! Well, tonight’s your chance. This is for sure the one!” I hang it on the back of the ensuite door before she leads me into the ensuite so we can both start doing our hair and make up. I turn on a party playlist to pump up the energy as I help brush and curl her shoulder-length auburn hair. She then returns the favour, curling and putting my hair into a half-up, half-down style with a bun, secured in place with silver and faux-diamonte pins. When I turn around and see her handiwork, I praise myself for buying the tiara, because she truly needs and deserves to stand out. We both then work on the base layers of our own makeup before helping eachother apply the finishing touches.

Just as we’re almost done, Nick appears in the doorway. “Alright, ladies…Trav’s here, I’m headed out.” He comes closer to Stella and goes to kiss her but she keeps him at an arms reach.

“Don’t mess with the makeup, it’s still setting. I love you, babe. Have fun! Let loose for once!”

He shakes his head at her with a fond smile. “I love you too. I’ll try. All I ask is that you be a little responsible, but have fun.” He leans down and pecks her neck instead, respecting her wishes to not mess the makeup. Then he looks at me, “Look after her.” I nod. Satisfied, he leaves.

I check the time on my phone; half an hour till the bridesmaids arrive. “T-minus 30 minutes! Time to get dressed and accessorise!” I help her slip into her dress carefully so she doesn’t mess up her hair and makeup. She swaps out her stud earrings for a dangly set that pair with a silver diamonte necklace. When she reaches for a sparkly headband I stop her, “I’ve got that covered.”

She sits on the bed to strap on a pair of silver, glittery stilettos and then puts the essentials – lipgloss, ID, money and her phone – in a matching purse before leading me back to the guest room to help me get ready. Her jaw drops when she see me in my dress, the resemblance really is uncanny.

She wolf whistles as she makes me do a spin. “Sexy! Let me take a photo! You have to send this to Jensen!”

“No, come on, tonight’s all about you!”

Despite my protests she takes both my phone and hers and takes photos of us both while I finish getting ready, putting my maroon block heels on, swapping out my jewellery for a fancy silver set my parents got me for my birthday, and then grab the quite pleasantly matching maroon purse I found at the same thrift store as my dress. The final step is to give Stella her tiara, I place it on her head, careful not to catch or mess up her hair. We both take a few more photos in the living room, at the bride-to-be’s insistence until the doorbell rings.

Stella drops everything and runs to the door to welcome in the two other bridesmaids: Felicity and Gabby. They’re both dressed to the nines in slightly revealing short sparkly dresses that resemble flapper dresses, Felicity in Gold and Gabby in a deep blue. I’d associate them a little more with The Great Gatsby but I know they’ll fit right in anyway; I saw that style dress come up when researching and in the movie that Stella and I have watched together numerous times. We all take more photos before I hand out the fancy gift bag. After gushing over everything, Stella pops out the wine and we each enjoy a drink out of the fancy, reusable, personalised cups. We also all put on our sashes and wristbands and take evenmore photos.

Before long the Uber is beeping out the front. We all pile in, just slightly buzzed, and joke around and converse noisily all the way to the bar. Stella’s jaw drops and she squeals the second she sees Moulin Rouge in flashing lights. “No way!”

“Yes way! I know it’s your favourite,” I tell her. She tackles me in a massive hug the second we step out of the Uber. We then flash your wristbands and ID for the security guard to skip the already growing line. Her excitement is palpable as she takes in actresses and barmaids and men dressed up in themed attires. A few men and a few ladies compliment our outfits as we push through the crowd to get closer to the dancefloor. Felicity disappears to get the first official round of themed cocktails while the rest of us dance and attempt to sing along to a DJ remix of the music from the movie.

After a few drinks I make sure Stella gets a dance with one of the professional performers and take video for her to relive it once the hangover wears off and she can’t remember a thing. The whole night, despite also getting lost in the fun, drinks and atmosphere, I manage to keep an eye on the time. It’s almost 11:30 when I start to try and move the party. I get the confirmation from the bestman that they’re also on the move, and start speeding things up.

“Another round?” Felicity asks loudly but I shake my head firmly and shoot her a warning look, trying to get her attention and remind her of the plan. Eventually she nods in understanding and stands up from the stools where we were resting after hours of dancing.

“Come on girls, let’s go get some air,” I say. Felicity joins me and Gabby finally catches on. Stella whines but obediently stands up.

“You promised me the night wouldn’t end before midnight!” she slurs, “It’s only half past 11.”

“Who said anything about the night ending? I just suggested a change of scenery.”

She huffs as we squeeze through the crowd and out onto the street. I ignore her pouting as I hail a waiting cab and show him the address on my phone, so as not to ruin the surprise for my best friend. My leg bounces to relieve my nerves as the driver swerves through the traffic. I know they’ll love seeing each other, but I also know Nick’ll be concerned about how much she’s drank. I can only hope Travis held up his side of the bargain and helped Nick let loose a little too. After what feels like an eternity of the girls trying to distract Stella, the driver finally pulls a park around the block from our destination at my request. I hope the little walk in the cold night air will help build the suspense and sober Stella up, if only a touch. I pay the driver as everyone gets out.

We take in all the flashing billboards, advertising all sorts of music, movies and appliances. Despite living in New York for years now, I rarely come into Times Square, except for when I do auditons. Coming from a small rural townin Texas, the packed streets make me feel extra claustrophobic, but I’m willing to push past that tonight for the sake of your best friend. So, I do. The four of us walk among the crowd of people all headed towards the same destination to watch the highly anticipated yearly ball drop.

Sure, to many it’s just a giant ball sliding slowly down a metal pole, but for many New Yorkers this is a rite of passage. Plus, what better location to secure my best friend her New Years kiss with the love of her life. I couldn’t think of anything she would love more. Thus, were shouldering our way through throngs of sweaty, drunk people – much like ourselves if I’m honest – to find the groom party at the agreed meeting place outside the Disney store.

As soon as we spot the boys, we start pushing into the middle of the closed-off street to get a better view. I watch Stella and Nick run into each other’s arms – or more like drunkenly stumble in Stella’s case – just in time for the countdown to begin. I watch in awe as the crowd calls out, counting down in time with the MC over the loudspeakers. My eyes flick between the ball, the crowd and my best friends. But as the countdown gets to one, there’s only one person on my mind.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy, @winchesterwild78 @kr804573

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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