#ho hum reblogging this too

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ pretty scary﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: you're having an awful day and your boyfriend is kind of the best person ever.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: reader struggles with bpd, reader has slight mommy issues, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, depictions of overstimulation (NOT the sexy kind), reader has slight mood swings, established relationship, silly fluff, spencer reid is the perfect boyfriend, hurt/comfort KINDA? (reader is upset, spencer soothes her), lowercase writing sorry it's a habit/my preference, Fiona Apple Mention <3

word count: 3.1k

a/n: omg.. hiiii! this is my first silly post on this silly blog and its a very self-indulgent one as someone who has bpd and is told OFTEN how irritable i can get -_- .. im so nervous.com right now bcos ive never posted my writing on here but also excited..? yes yes.. on a huge spencer reid kick so if u liked this and have any requests they are open!! likes/reblogs/any feedback much appreciated :3!

today was just not your day.

the morning started out fine. it was actually kind of perfect. you spent the night at your boyfriend’s place, waking up just in time to see him getting ready for work. there was a smile that crept over your lips as you watched him adjust the tie hanging around his neck. you propped yourself up against the pillows as he caught your eyes in the mirror adjacent to the bed. your heart swelled at the sight of a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

“why are you staring at me like that, weirdo?” there was a little morning gravel in his voice but his tone was lighthearted enough to make you giggle. you fell back against the pillows, tucking one under your arm as you kept your gaze on him.

“what? i’m not allowed to stare at my boyfriend anymore?” you replied, a yawn falling off your lips. he playfully rolled his eyes in response, walking over to your side of his bed. he sat at the edge, one of his hands brushing some of your hair from your face.

“actually, no. they just passed that law last night while you were sleeping through coraline again.” you bit your lip, vaguely remembering begging spencer to put that movie on only to fall asleep on his shoulder twenty minutes in. you can only assume at some point he carried you from the sofa to his bed. you blushed at the thought, as if he hadn’t done it at least twenty times by now. clearly you weren’t used to the ‘princess treatment’ he liked giving you.

“oh, my fault then. please don’t arrest me, mr. fbi agent.”

“it’s dr. fbi agent, actually.”

“right…” you giggled again, beaming as he smiled down at you. “do you know if you have a case?”

“paperwork day.” his fingers started tracing small shapes against the skin of your arm. “of course if that changes, i’ll let you know. but hopefully it won’t. you can come over again tonight if you want. maybe we’ll finally finish coraline.” his voice was soft, ringing harmonies in your ear as you let your eyes flutter shut in the comfort. “need me to take you to work today?”

you hummed, reaching out to your phone sitting on his bedside table. you quickly rechecked your schedule and shook your head. “no, it’s okay. i go in a little later. it’s close enough to walk.” you tilted your head as you felt him tangle his hand in your hair again. spencer scratched delicately at your scalp.

“okay, my love. i washed the clothes you left here the other day. they should be in the second drawer of my dresser.” you nodded in response as he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. you caught his jaw in your hands and pulled him downwards, giving him a proper kiss on his lips. he laughed quietly as you both pulled away. “have a good day, angel.”

“you too, baby.”

well to put it simply you did not have a good day. you got ready for your job at a local cafe and made it to work fine. it was when you got there that it started going downhill. you genuinely loved being a barista. you definitely had the personality for it. friendly, outgoing, kind and patient. it’s actually how you met spencer in the first place. but sometimes it was hard. especially with certain needy customers. most of your regulars were chill. you were actually friends with many of them, always asking about the new things in their lives whenever they’d come in. of course, though, there were always a few bad apples.

like this one particular older man. he came in every now and then and ordered the same thing every single time. black decaf coffee with a blueberry scone. he was always in a rather grumpy mood, not even your tender words could help that. so this morning when you gave him a black regular coffee by an honest mistake he made sure to let you know just how stupid and idiotic you were. you stood there at the counter, expression apologetic as he continued to berate you. eventually your boss told you to go in the back for a bit while she took care of things.

you practically ran to the bathroom, locking yourself in the tiny space as you tried to control your breathing. you could already feel the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. you absolutely despised how sensitive you could get. through shaky breaths, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it with a small sob. you had a few texts and one missed call from your mother. one of the texts was from spencer, letting you know it was just gonna be a paperwork day and inquiring what you wanted to order for dinner tonight. the other texts were from your mother, reminding you about a family party that was coming up soon. there was another text after her missed call.

- Guess you’re too busy to talk. Just let me know if you can make it.

you closed your eyes, feeling the passive aggressive tone through the message. the best way you could describe your relationship with your mother was that she was both your best friend and your worst critic. she tried to support everything you aspired to do, but also hated the way you did them. it was... complicated but her text was enough to leave you in a sour mood for the remainder of the day.

you felt like you couldn’t catch up. you couldn’t get over that bump setting you back from having a good shift. your head felt like it was elsewhere and no longer attached to your body, your movements becoming monotonous and your words dull. to make things worse, your eighteen year old coworker was coming in for their shift an hour before you were leaving.

and you loved them, you really really did. often times you would joke about them being your work child, taking them under your wing. but they talked. a lot. most days you could keep up no problem but with the way your mind was on a downward spiral today, all you could feel was immense overstimulation as they yapped in your ear about the latest tv show they were binge watching. soon it was all too much for you to handle and you end up snapping at the poor kid.

“dude i’m sorry but i don’t really care. can we just be quiet for, like, five minutes?” you interrupted them mid-sentence, tired eyes looking over with a slight glare. you immediately softened, eyes wide with guilt as they looked towards you like a kicked puppy. you tried your best to stammer out an apology but was met with silent treatment until you clocked out.

they would soon accept your apology in the next coming days and you’d go back to normal because that’s how you guys were, but the guilt would eat at you for quite a bit. when you were a kid, your parents often praised you on how self-sufficient and respectful you were. in your adolescent years, with the help of an untreated personality disorder and your regular teen hormones raging inside your cage of a body, your behaviour would suddenly change. you found yourself more irritable. more prone to overstimulation. you internalized a lot of what you were going through because every time you tried to bring up your feelings, your mother would shut you down and it’d turn into a fight.

you expressed yourself through slammed doors and screaming matches. you bottled things up until they overflowed. it was how you handled the thunderstorms behind your skull. you would eventually get better in time, finally attending therapy and finding solace in little things like journaling. and when you started dating spencer, he helped a lot too. your brain could sometimes make a lot of irrational judgements and spencer would help you see reasoning instead. he was also insanely patient with you. especially in the first two months of you guys dating where you broke up with him upwards of five times. each time because you didn’t believe you deserved him. (you still don’t believe it, but at least now you’ve stopped trying to fight the good coming into your life.)

you would never forget the first time spencer met your parents. the night was going well up until dinner time when your dad decided to pull out your old high school yearbook. at first it was just classic embarrassment as spencer looked at your school photos. but then your mother, after one too many glasses of wine, brought up your old struggles with anger.

“be careful getting on her bad side, spencer!” she had said, waving a finger in the air. “she’s got a scary temper for sure! remember when we had to replace her bathroom mirror because she threw her hairbrush at it?" she spoke like she was a comedian telling her greatest joke in the world as she turned towards your father. "i can’t even remember what made her so upset! but i remember how expensive that fix was…”

“oh i’m sure i’ve dealt with far worse at my job, ma’am. i think i can handle her just fine.” he was quick to reply and the hand pressing on your bouncing knee beneath the table calmed any nerves of him looking at you differently. later that night he’d hold you as you sobbed in his arms, retelling different memories of your past. he made you a promise that he’d never see you as a bad person as long as you promised him you’d talk to him whenever you started to feel like one.

you were finally walking home after this exhausting day and it wasn’t until you were changed into your comfy clothes and curled in bed that you realized you hadn't texted spencer back at all. with your knees pulled to your chest and a low hum of a fiona apple album playing from your record player you reached across your bed for your phone. you had four texts from him and one missed call.

- Hi angel. Haven’t heard from you all day, just checking in. - Hi, you should be clocked out by now. Just wanted to know if you still wanted to come over? We can order from your favorite italian place. - One missed call from spencer ♡. - Are you having a bad day, my love? Or did I do something wrong? - I’m gonna come over. See you soon, angel.

your brows furrowed together at the last text, sent just about ten minutes ago. you could feel your eyes well with frustrated tears. you felt like shit for unintentionally ignoring him. you couldn’t even think of what to say to him, but you had to think fast because soon you heard a gentle knock at your bedroom door. with a sniffle, you stood to your feet and slowly opened it.

you met spencer’s eyes, they were desperately searching your face. trying to figure you out, trying to see what was troubling your mind. you hated it sometimes when he profiled you, but most times you were grateful he could just know when you weren’t doing okay. saved you the shame of having to actually vocalize your feelings. you stepped back as he entered your room.

“your roommate let me in. she said you went straight to your room after work and have been listening to nothing but when the pawn… by fiona apple.” he was still in his work clothes, the same ones you watched him get dressed in just that morning. felt like an eternity ago at this point. before you could even let your face fall to the ground, his hands were holding your jaw, tilting it upwards and keeping it in place. he always held you like you were made of glass. “bad day?”

“you could say that.” you words were short and you didn’t mean for them to be. you were just so exhausted. “sorry i forgot to text you back. it’s just been…” you let your words fall off, waving your hands in the air with an annoyed huff. you pulled away from his touch, slumping back into your mattress. he just watched as you ran your fingers through your hair, eyes shut tight as if you were trying to talk yourself down. he bit his lip, taking a cautious step forward.

“you look like you’re trying to compute a million things at once right now inside that little head.” he shrugged off the sweater draping over his work shirt, tugged off his tie and kicked his shoes off besides your bed. you laughed sarcastically at his words but bit your tongue from replying with a snarky comment. “did you know that one of the brain’s primary functions is to collect and process sensory information? it’s kind of like there’s a little guy in there, sitting at his desk and filing through every bit of information that gets thrown at you throughout the day.” your eyes were still shut but you felt a dip in your bed as his voice grew closer to you.

“when there’s too much sensory input, it can make the brain think there’s danger, sending off signals to the body to escape. that’s when your fight-flight-freeze response gets triggered. aka that little guy’s desk is suddenly on fire and every file has been thrown all over the place and the little guy, well, the little guy is running around screaming for help.” you feel two arms wrap around your waist and maneuver your body until you felt your head resting against the warmness of his chest. soon enough you also felt slender digits running through the locks of your hair.

“you seem to resort to a fight response i’ve noticed. your body feels like you can overpower the danger your brain thinks you’re in. resulting in intense feelings of anger. which can lead to irritability.” you feel him tracing shapes, the same ones he made on your arms earlier that morning, deep into the small of your back. he always did the same movement pattern and you always wondered if that was intentional or just a coincidence. “do you wanna talk about what’s going on in here?” he poked an index finger to the side of your temple. you shook your head. “okay. we don’t have to. but i will ask about it later, is that okay?” you nodded this time.

you didn’t realize it when it was happening, but the combination of spencer pulling you into his arms and his soft voice spewing factual information at you was enough to make your head feel almost empty. your body was melted against his, curled up in his touch. you let out a shaky breath, slowly raising your head, resting your chin on his chest as your eyes opened. “how did you do that?” you whispered, soft hues scanning his face as he just smiled down at you.

“a magician never reveals his secrets, my love.” you rolled your eyes, laughing quietly as his hand lightly brushed your cheek. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. your lips twitched in thought, a tiny frown suddenly taking over your features. spencer tilted his head. “what is it, baby?”

your eyes fell to focus on his chest, your finger tracing over the fabric of his work shirt. “do you think i’m scary? like… when i get upset?”

“scary?” he repeated, voice in small disbelief that you’d even feel the need to ask. “no, i don’t think you’re scary. i think you’re beautiful. and i think your mind can be pretty mean to you sometimes. but that’s not your fault. hey, look at me please.” you let him guide your head back up, eyes meeting each other again. he smiled at you and it made you feel warm. “why do you think you’re scary?”

your shoulder shrugged with an exasperated sigh. “because it’s what i’ve been told my whole life. when i get too overwhelmed and i just feel nothing but anger i… i feel like i can get mean and i hate feeling that way. like, i always get too snappy and i always say something that’s gonna hurt someone i care about and i…” your breathing hitches. your lashes quickly blink, trying to fight any tears from spilling yet again. “i’m so scared i’m gonna get that way with you and you’re gonna leave me.”

he was shaking his head, thumb swiping underneath your eyes at the few tears that betrayed you and fell down your cheeks. he sighed out your name. “i don’t think you understand just how much i love you. if you think i’d leave you at something so silly like that. you know, i started reading up on borderline personality disorder after that night i met your parents. i wanted to understand it more. i wanted to understand you.” he continued wiping away your tears as they kept falling.

“i can’t even imagine what you go through inside your own head every single day, but i can acknowledge how hard you’re trying to cope with it. i see it all the time. i see it in the kindness you like to spread to strangers. i see it in the way you push yourself to learn new things and the way you stopped beating yourself up if it doesn’t turn out perfect. i see it in the way you love me, and more importantly in the way you’ve allowed yourself to let me love you back. you’re such a beautiful person, my love. it’s okay to have bad days and it’s okay to let yourself be a little mean sometimes.” he laughed quietly, noticing the way your lips were fighting a smile. he leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “as long as you just communicate with me when you’re feeling bad. that’s all i ask.”

you sat there for a moment, admiring the way his big brown eyes stared at you. your eyes fell for a moment before picking back up with furrowed brows. “i snapped at my coworker today.”

“the teenager?” you nodded. “ah,” spencer’s hand resumed circling around your back as he hummed. “they’ll forgive you, i’m sure of it.” there was a pause and then a small hum coming from his throat. “are you hungry? hm? let’s order some food.”

he ordered you your favorite pasta dish from your favorite italian restaurant and you fell asleep in his arms in the middle of coraline again. he couldn’t help but admire you resting so peacefully in his arms and continued tracing the words ‘i love you’ over and over again into your back for the rest of the night.

[fairy-writes]

I HEARD GOODBYE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Hibino Kafka x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Reader is smaller than Kafka, Arguments, Established Relationships,

Notes: Based on the song “I Heard Goodbye” by Dan + Shay and vaguely on the song “My Goodbye” from EPIC: The Musical (mainly the vibes).

PART TWO HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

Kafka should’ve known something was wrong when you kissed him goodbye that morning. But a lot had happened in the last few months, so he blamed it on the stress of everything. 

As soon as he got to work, he thought back on that morning and realized something was off. Something was missing. But he couldn’t figure out what. However, that was pushed to the back of his mind when he received the letter from the Defense Force about his initial exam score. 

He passed!

Kafka was on cloud nine up until he got home. He greeted you the same as he always did, with a kiss on your cheek and a hand on your slightly swollen belly. But the folded paper in his pocket made him giddier than he had been in a while. 

“You’re excited about something.” You mumble against his mouth, thumbing his wedding band before turning back to making dinner. Kafka takes a seat at the kitchen island and tries not to let his grin get much bigger. 

“Just got some good news at work today, is all. I’ll tell you over dinner.” He says, and you just hum. 

That should’ve clued him in that something was wrong. 

Things come to a head at dinner. You’re eating slowly as you are trying to prevent heartburn. You had gotten the idea from your doctor. Something about eating slower and smaller meals could maybe prevent heartburn. And with how often you got it, you were nearly desperate for anything to work. 

The two of you chatted aimlessly at first, with you updating him on your pregnancy and him profusely apologizing for not being there at your appointment. You revealed that your best friend (who had apparently gone with you) knew the gender, but you refused to learn—not until he was home to look with you, at least. 

“Now,” You begin abruptly when cleaning up your mess from making dinner. Kafka looks up from where he’s scrubbing the dishes. “What’s the big news?” You finish after a moment’s pause. Kafka hesitates for barely a second before turning off the sink, drying his hands, and fishing the paper out of his pocket. He hands it to you without a word, and you frown, unfolding the piece of paper and staring blankly. 

Then, you set the paper down on the counter and leave the kitchen silently. 

“Wait!” Kafka gives chase and finds you in the bedroom. You’re packing a bag. He pauses in the doorway, almost dumbfounded, as you continue to shove loose-fitting clothes in your duffel bag. You weren’t pregnant enough for maternity clothes yet, but your regular clothes were getting a bit tight. So you usually just borrowed one of his shirts to sleep in. 

“What are you doing?” He asks quietly, and you look up at him,

“I’m staying with Haru for the night.” You say, brushing past him to head for the front door. 

He’s too stunned to stop you.

You don’t contact Kafka for three days after that. In fact, he’s fairly sure you blocked his number, with none of his texts going through when he tried to talk to you.

It affects his work. He’s slower than usual, not nearly as gung-ho as he typically is. And people notice. Mitsuike notices. Mori notices. Tokuda notices. Hell, even Ichikawa notices! They try to comfort him in their own ways, but nothing helps because Kafka has no idea what he has done wrong. 

At least until you show up again. 

Kafka is sitting at the kitchen island, staring at his exam results—no longer excited when you aren’t there to celebrate with him—when he hears the keys jingle in the lock. He stuffs the paper in his back pocket and slides in slippered feet into the hallway just as you open the door. 

You spot him, looking spooked like a deer in the headlights. 

“I thought you would be working overtime tonight.” You mumble as you shut the door behind you and take off your shoes. You’re carrying a laundry bag full of what he assumes is dirty laundry. 

“They uh… Let me go home early.” He replies, voice petering off slightly near the end of his sentence. You frown,

“You never go home early.” You comment and go to move past him to head to the laundry machine situated at the back of the apartment. 

But he catches your arm. 

“Can we talk?” Kafka’s voice cracks, and you stiffen. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You say, your voice as cold as ice, and he flinches back. You shrug off his hand and make it to the washing machine before he manages to catch your attention again. 

“There’s a hell of a lot to talk about!” He reins in his temper at the last second, but you seem intent on ignoring him regardless. “Is this about the Defense Force?” He tries and sees you freeze as you’re dumping the laundry detergent into the machine.

Bingo.

Eventually, you sigh and lean on the washing machine as it rumbles, your wedding band glinting slightly in the flickering light of the laundry room. At least you were still wearing it. He didn’t know what he would’ve done had you taken it off. 

“I never wanted you to join the Defense Force.” You say quietly, and Kafka isn’t upset. Not exactly, at least. He’s just glad you’re talking to him. 

“Why?” His voice sounds broken and oh so small. You knew from the get-go that joining the Defense Force was his dream. You knew from the start that he would apply each year. And each year throughout your four-year marriage, you would comfort him when he got the bad news that he had failed. 

“Because everyone I knew who joined the Defense Force has died. My parents included.” You say bitterly, and he stops in his tracks. 

Your parents?

“I thought they were military?” He said, confused. You shake your head, 

“That was a lie. Because I knew how you felt about it. I had just hoped you would fail one more time and give up on this dream.” You whisper, and he sees a tear streak down your cheek. 

He hated it when you cried. 

But when he got closer, you cringed away. Your hands clenched into fists, and when you look at him with tears in your eyes, he feels his heart break. 

“Are you still going to join the Defense Force?” Your voice is quiet, almost so soft that he can’t hear you. His own hands clench into fists as he fights with himself.

He had made a promise to Mina. But he had also promised you when you got married.

The longer you stare at him, the more the light dies from your eyes. 

“I guess that answers that, then.” You whisper and push past him yet again. You tell him that you’ll be back for your laundry, but he can’t bring himself to move from his spot by the washer. 

Had he just lost you forever?

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

How about some tasty teacher/student sexy times with Divus Crewel (TWST)? Headcanons or writing drabble idc I just need that man FERALLY

Oh ho you're in for a treat, my friend~ We have similar tastes, and I've already got this little drabble in mind that I've toyed around with~

This can be read as either male reader or gender neutral reader as the drabble never specifies the reader.

Title: Private Lessons

Characters: Divus Crewel x m!reader/gn!reader

Contains: Pet play, collar, leash, oral/throat fucking

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

Sitting at the desk, Divus sighed as he scribbled away at the papers before him, brow twitching at some of the answers the students.

"Honestly, how idiotic can these whelps be...?"

Running his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath, thinking carefully. He reached into his lap, tugging gently on a leather strap that rested over him. A gentle jingle sounded into the air before it was replaced with a deep hum from the teacher. A tint of red adorned his face, standing out from the blacks and whites of his appearance.

"Mm...~ Let's see now...Last paper. Ah...(y/n)'s paper...Hm..."

Unlike the other papers, he took his time with this one, audibly noting which answers were wrong.

"Number three...number six...the entirety of number seven..." He sighed. "I guess we need to do another personal lesson..."

Without looking, his free hand slid under the desk, pressing the back of your head further along his shaft til his tip touched the back of your throat. All of your "personal lessons" from him had paid of in this aspect at least, allowing you to take him as deep into your throat as possible, though you'd still gag slightly when you weren't expecting it, like now for example. You just wished it helped out acedemically, but secretly, you weren't complaining.

You looked up at him with watery eyes, your hands placed firmly on the ground to keep yourself steady. You were so well trained to know where your hands reside when they weren't tied behind you, and the sight of you so obedient only made Divus throb in your mouth.

"Such a good dog~ I'd give you a reward for work here, but I'm afraid you have too many incorrect answers on your paper. Oh well..." He rubbed the back of your head, fingers running through your hair as he placed his pen down. You felt his energy shift when the now free hand joined the one in your hair, and your feelings were confirmed when a devious smirk grew on his face.

You didn't need him to say anything to know your punishment was imminent. The grip on your head was met with his hips thrusting at the same time, a pleasured breath leaving the teacher as the sound mixed with your struggled gulping.

"Th-There we go~ Hah...~ If there's...one good thing you're good at...i-it's having a d-delicious mouth to fill up~"

If any previous sessions taught you anything, it's that you'd get no reprieve until your lesson was learned.

[sleepy--anon]

Revenge, Finally

⚠️Intense tickles, light restraints, squid game 2 spoilers⚠️

Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more

Here's who I write for

You'd think that In-ho would know better than to underestimate Gi-hun, especially after being in the games with him for days. Yet somehow, one minute he's in the comfort of his observation room and the next he's being choked out until his vision goes black. He comes to in one of his soundproof rooms, wrists bound together with rope, back in his 001 uniform minus the jacket, and a cloth of some sort shoved in his mouth. He blinked a few times, trying to regain his awareness in the dark.

"Oh good, you're finally awake." In-ho didn't move, he didn't have to, he knew that voice. He could hear him get up from a seat from a corner of the room.

"You've been out for quite some time, I was beginning to worry that Hyun-joo had squeezed too tight." So that was who choked him out earlier, that explains the experienced grip. In-ho could hear Gi-hun's footsteps approach him slowly from where he was laying on the floor. He stared straight up towards the ceiling, refusing to look at his captor. He heard him kneel down beside him, grabbing the cloth in his mouth, pulling it out quickly. Gi-hun watched him stretch his jaw, waiting for him to turn to look at him.

"Nothing to say now? After everything you've done? I trusted you and you used that to your advantage." In-ho could hear the betrayal in his voice, see the hurt in his eyes.

"You've been the ringleader for far too long Young-il, it's your turn to be on the other end." In-ho rolled his eyes, scoffing at his little monolog, ignoring the slight pang of guilt in his chest when he calls him Young-il.

"You gonna make me play a game with the threat of death or something?" Gi-hun let out a low growl, grabbing hold of his bound wrists, almost effortlessly slamming them to the floor above his head as he swung his leg over his hips.

"Not so tough without all your little guards are you~?" In-ho inhaled deeply, refusing to break eye contact. As soon as Gi-hun raised his free hand, In-ho tensed and shut his eyes, awaiting the sting of a slap or the throbbing pain of a punch. What he wasn’t ready for was the feeling of Gi-hun's fingers kneading slowly into his side. He attempted to swallow the grunt that formed in his throat, pressing his lips together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. This is childish, he thought, clenching his bound fists.

"Won't look at me now~? Afraid you'll squeal and laugh like a girl if you do~?" Gi-hun's voice had dropped to a rumble as his kneading turned into squeezing that slowly picked up speed and ground as he squeezed up to his ribs. In-ho's breathing picked up quickly as he tried to keep the noises down, only grunts and defiant hums escaping. Gi-hun chuckled evilly when he heard the shuffling of his enemies feet behind him.

"You trying to run somewhere~? Where are you going~?" In-ho had already begun to panic at how little he could move and the teasing definitely wasn't helping. Gi-hun reached back suddenly, grabbing hold of In-ho's thigh, kneading deeply, relishing in his sudden panicked laughter.

"There we go~ That's what I wanted~ Oh~ And you sound so cute~! Maybe I'll keep you~ use you as my little stress reliever~"

"FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU!" In-ho could barely recognize hid own voice, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he laughed this hard.

"You wish~ Come on beg~ I want to hear you beg me for mercy~" In-ho was going crazy from being able to do nothing, he'd never heard Gi-hun so sadistic. His knuckles in his ribs were a breaking point.

"OHOHOHOHOKAY OHHOHOHOKAY PLEHEHEHEASE! PLEHEHEHEASE PLEHEHEASE GOHOHOHOHOD!"

"Oohhh~ That's it~"

"PLEHEHEEHEASE! I'M GOHOHOHOHONNA BREHEHEAK!"

"Awwww~ What if I wanna break you~?" He felt the knuckles speed up somehow, the tears streaming down the sides of his face.

"PLEHEHEASE PLEHEHEHEASE GIHIHI-HUHUHUN! PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP! MEHEHERCY MEHEHERCY MEHEHERCY MEHEHERCYHYHYHY! PLEHEHEHEASE! LEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHOHOHO!"

"Why should I~? You think you deserve it~?"

"I'M SOHOHOHORRY PLEHEHEHEASE! I'LL DOHOHOHO WHAHAHATEVER YOHOHOU WAHAHANT! JUHUHUST PLEHEHEHEASE!" In-ho inhaled sharply when Gi-hun pulled away suddenly. Gi-hun's hand slammed firmly on his chest, gaining his attention.

"You are my bitch now, and this will be your life for the foreseeable future~ You can beg all you want but you belong to me~ The roles have reversed Young-il~ We are in charge now~"

[alistairtheyrin]

the bard of riverbrook farm, pt. ii

la belle dame sans merci, frank bernard dicksee

aemond targaryen x lowborn!reader

masterlist | ao3

summary | help with the harvest comes from the most unlikely source - the one-eyed man from the inn - and your curiosity about what he is hiding beneath his courtesies only grows.

tags | secret identity, soft romance, bard!reader, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, discussions of trauma related to war, gender-neutral pronouns

wordcount | 3.8k

likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated 💞 lyrics are not mine this time but from A Storm of Swords

The band of wandering men left empty-handed by the war moved on in the end, what work there was in the village done, what hospitality could be afforded to them spent.

You didn’t even realise the man with one eye from the inn had stayed until he came wandering up the lonely track to your farm.

You were bent over, pulling up carrots in the field, stopping only to mop sweat from your brow, and your back was aching. You always bit back on your complaints, though, because your parents were working on the next row over, swapping the baby in her wrap between them whenever it got too much to bear in the summer sun.

Your father was the first to notice a stranger's approach and passed off your gurgling sister so he could approach the man.

“Ho, stranger,” your father called, letting the one-eyed man know he was spotted in case that was enough to deter him. You recognised him from the inn, though, and felt a hint of a smile on your lips. No, you did not think this was some common thief.

“Ser,” the man, strangely formal as ever, inclined his head. Even when he raised his voice to be heard over the distance and the wind, his tone did not change from that calm, collected way he had. “The innkeeper in town said you might need an extra pair of hands for your harvest. I came to offer my services.”

Good Beck, always sticking his nose in, you thought, holding back a roll of your eyes. You made your way down the field, your half-full basket on your hip, and came to your father’s side. “I remember you,” you said, “from the inn.” You could still sometimes feel the ghost of his lips on your hand.

His eye met yours. He looked glad to see you but not surprised. “The bard,” he said, “have you finished your song yet?”

“Not quite,” you said, biting your lip to stop you from smiling.

Your father, for his part, looked wary. “You fought in the war?” he asked, and the man nodded. He did not ask what side. It was generally accepted that you did not ask that question in these parts when the peace remained new and uneasy. 

“Another pair of hands would be good,” your father said wearily, “if only so that one of us could focus on the babe instead. But I don’t have much to pay you.”

The man shook his head. “Food and shelter is all I ask for, ser.”

Your father hummed, noncommittal. “I don’t much like the idea of strange men under the same roof as my wife and children,” he said. “No offence meant, but you could be anyone. You understand.” Your heart dropped a little at the dismissal, but you noticed he was holding his shovel close to his body and sizing up the stranger. It made sense - men like this stranger were often bad news, driven to desperation by war or indulging depravities that had always been there, lurking just under the surface and only coming out now that the world had gone to hell.

“No, ser, I understand - I did not mean shelter under your roof. I could bed down by the plough horse. I was not clear in my speech; I apologise,” the man said, “but if it is still a no, I will be on my way.”

That spiked a slight panic in you, and you grasped for words. “For what it’s worth, father, he was kind at the inn,” you said hurriedly. “He wanted to ask me about my songs, the ones I write myself, but he was very respectful.” The man gave you a grateful half-smile for that.

Your father hesitated, considering both your words, just as the stranger was shifting to go. “Stop,” he said. You could see him thinking. The door to the house was always barred at night, and you and your mother had carried blades concealed in your clothes since the war broke out. It might be worth the risk, to get an extra pair of hands on the field and get this sowing of carrots up before any started to soften. Most would need to travel to Raventree Hall before they were sold, and the steward would not pay the full price unless they were fresh. Your father looked back at your mother, who was bouncing the baby on her hip, and she gave him a slight nod. “Okay, we’d like to have you on for the next moon or so. There’s a spare stall in the stable where you can bed down if you’ll help me clear some equipment out of it.”

The one-eyed man was visibly relieved and offered your father a hand to shake, which your father grasped firmly. “Thank you, ser,” he said.

“I’m no ser,” your father said, but he looked a little pleased to be addressed as such.

“There’s broth on for tonight,” your mother added helpfully, calling down the field and shading her eyes from the sun with her spare hand. “Bread was fresh yesterday.”

“Sounds perfect,” the man said, and for all the light in his eye at that, he seemed to say it genuinely.

Your father was clapping him on the shoulder and leading him off to the paddock that housed the small stable when you stopped them with your voice. “Wait! What was your name?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks, and you may have been mistaken, but you thought you saw his jaw go a little tighter and his eye a little wider. He wavered, then cleared his throat. “Uh, Luke,” he said.

Your mother and father did not seem to notice his hesitation, but you narrowed your eyes at him, and he had the good grace to swallow hard before he was led away.

Luke, you thought, testing the name on your tongue. You had a feeling that getting to know each other would be very interesting indeed.

— ∞ —

“You know, if you were going to lie about your name, you probably should have thought about that before someone inevitably asked what your name was.” It was the height of the day, and you were irritable, the collar of your shirt becoming damp and yellow with sweat, the basket on your hip growing harder and harder to lift.

It had been a few days since the man - Luke - arrived, and you had already learned to like having him around. He was an able young man, strong, and his pace of work meant that sometimes both your parents could afford to rest when the sun reached its peak. You were glad - they were not so young as they once were, and neither of them got to spend enough time with the babe anyway.

It was such a day today - the two of you were deep in the fields, pulling up the crops and loading your bounty onto a cart - and Luke gave you a bewildered glance. He was starting to do that more and more to you in answer to your pointed questions. “I’m lying about my name, am I?” He asked as though it was not already a foregone conclusion.

You huffed out a laugh. “Given how you positively shit yourself when asked the most simple question a person can ask you about yourself, I would wager so.”

“So you’re a gambler as well as a bard?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” you pointed out, huffing as you lifted your now-full basket onto your hip.

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t ask me a question; you just levelled an accusation at me,” he said, but there was no heat in it as he left his own basket for a minute to take yours off your hip and carry it to the cart for you. You did make to protest, but the sun was blazing, and you rather liked the way his shoulders could be seen shifting through his shirt as the sweat-soaked fabric clung to them.

“Fine,” you sighed, “why did you lie about your name?”

He gave you a look, rubbing at his cheek a little where his eyepatch sat with dirt-stained fingers. You wanted to tell him to take it off - it was chaffing him in the heat, and you had seen worse injuries over the years than a lost or damaged eye - but you didn’t want to push your luck. “My name - the name my mother gave me, it’s… recognisable. I told you I don’t know if I could face going home. If someone from my past heard my name being used around here, I don’t think the choice would be mine anymore - to stay or not.”

You thought that over and nodded. “I suppose that makes sense,” you said. “Many folks are running from their pasts ‘round these parts.”

He sighed. “You have an unforgiving way of cutting straight to the heart of the issue. Has anyone told you that before?”

“Mm,” you hummed, smiling. “It’s a useful skill in a bard. People have a way of burying a lead and telling themselves stories, but they’re rarely motivated by anything other than what’s in their hearts.”

He was watching you with something unnameable in his eye.

“Who is Luke, then?” You asked, not letting up for a second.

The look of levity on his face darkened at that, and you almost regretted pressing the issue. “A boy I killed,” he said simply.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you certainly hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. “You knew him?”

“We were family,” he said, passing you back your now emptied basket, but he looked a little distant now. “We found ourselves on different sides of things. He took my eye. I killed him. It was an accident, but it was still my fault.”

You nodded, a heavy feeling in your gut settling. Everyone had done things they weren’t proud of during those years. Every stale crust of bread or overripe apple you stole to feed your family could have been the one that starved your neighbours to death. “So you use the name… what, to keep him alive?”

He considered this. “I suppose it’s something of an apology, yes. I was a boy then - rash and angry. Now that I’m a man, I realise that no matter the wrongs he visited on me, he didn’t deserve to die. If I keep his name with me, I hope he lives on through me, yes, and I hope, wherever he is, he knows I have not forgotten him and what I did.”

“That seems like all you can do,” you said.

“Mm,” he looked away, “it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Everyone has done things they can’t make up for,” you pointed out.

He gave you a rueful smile. “I fear I have done more than most.”

— ∞ —

The next time you made your way down to the tavern, lute strung on your back, he followed you.

You pretended you hadn’t heard his footsteps until you were halfway down the village path. Then his boot struck a stone, sending it skittering, and you turned to look.

He was watching you, head tilted, and the look in his eye betrayed an appetite.

“You know, you could have just asked to come with me.”

He smirked, slowly drawing up to you. “I’m not much good at small talk. Thought it better I didn’t bother you.”

You hummed. “I like it when you bother me,” you said.

It felt like a leap of faith, but he was there to catch you.

The music fell from your strings and your lips so easily that night, flowing like honey, like gold, and you had the entire inn swept up in a reverie. There was dancing and laughing and singing along, and Good Beck was toasting to you over the bar and sending you mead faster than you could drink it as he struggled to keep up with his orders.

Your shadow, Luke, watched you from the back of the room all night. He’d bought a pint but didn’t seem to be drinking it, and he was surrounded by people but didn’t seem to be talking to them. He just… watched. Like you were some enrapturing creature singing a siren’s song.

You closed up with your own song, the newest one you’d finished. You’d written it by the fireplace in the evenings, gently rocking your sister’s crib with the toe of your boot. The warm glow of the embers brought to mind the glow of the day, the way his skin glistened, and how he smiled and laughed when you spoke even though he didn’t want to, like he couldn’t help it.

My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head, a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me, your forest lass.

The song was the warmest of embraces: wildflower blooms in the air, the tickle of grass on your skin, and soft, hot kisses on your neck. You closed out the tune on your lute, and when you looked up, your regulars were roaring their approval, and other villagers were clapping for you. You pulled in ragged breath after breath, struggling after the full set, and when you met Luke’s eye, you didn’t want to fool yourself, but you thought him similarly… breathless.

You made your way from the little stage, lute on your back, free pints in hand, and jerked your head to the door, hoping he’d get the message. Fresh air was a must after a full set, as you were often overheating, and the smells and sounds of inside would become oppressive.

You set your tankards on an overturned barrel and sat down on the riverbank, away from any revellers also seeking fresh air. The brook was low right now—there hadn't been a proper rain in a moon—but the trickling sound was still soothing, still enough to reset the thudding rhythm in your chest.

“Just as mystifying as the first time,” his voice and cadence were becoming deeply familiar at this stage. You looked up, and he was setting himself down next to you, giving you a soft smile.

You waved away his praise with a hand and took a deep drink of your mead. It was sharp and sweet and cutting. “You should be ashamed of yourself, following me out here with a drink to ply me and sweet words on your lips; it’s so obvious,” you jested, and his cheeks went a delightful shade of pink.

He held up his hands. “I recall you beckoning me and supplying the drink. If anyone has ulterior motives, it is you.”

“You’re a strange one,” you said, looking away for a second to follow the path of two village girls stumbling home over the wooden bridge downstream, having overindulged in Good Beck’s homebrew. This place was a different world from what it had been only years ago. You didn’t think you could ever fall out of love with it. “What sort of conscripted village boy uses words like ulterior, anyway?”

He laughed. He’d left his pint he hadn’t been drinking inside, so you pushed the tankard you hadn’t managed to get to towards him. He made a face as he sipped but went back for more all the same. “When did I say I was a conscripted village boy?”

“You didn’t,” you said, with a slow wave of realisation. “I just… thought. The book thing - you’re educated and all that.”

He grinned, and his face in profile was something to behold. You didn’t think you’d ever found a nose so pretty. “Educated, but that never saved me from being a fool.”

“It never does,” you pointed out. “Sometimes, educated people are worse for being fools than farming folk. You’ve got all this extra… shite in your head that helps you make excuses for why you’re doing foolish things.”

“Concise, to the point,” he noted with a dry humour in his voice, drinking deeply from his tankard now. “How did one of the farming folk come to know what ulterior meant if it’s such a graceful, airy word?”

He had you there. You smiled and averted your eyes, taking another drink. It was like a game. Take a drink when the other person proves they’re fit for you, and you see how evenly matched you are in all the ways you never expected to be. “My mother is a clever woman, trained in a mummer’s troupe. She knew the plays, knows how to play this,” you said, tapping the lute strung to your back. “She gave up the mummer’s life when she was younger than we are now - she fell in love, found out she was having me. She says she wanted to build something solid, something permanent, and she wanted to do it with my father.”

He hummed. “My mother was just a girl when she had me, too. She was not in love with my father, though, and he was not in love with her,” he said. “It must be nice… to know you were made in love.”

You wanted to kiss him, then. Burned to. Being made in love was blessed, yes, but it was nothing you could not learn later if only you were willing to. You held back, though, if only because he looked sad and you did not think it was the right time. You reached out a hand instead and rested it on the back of his neck, sweeping your thumb over the base of his skull. He responded to your touch, pushing into your palm, and you smiled. 

“Why do you shave your head?” You asked. You’d seen him the other morning, studying his reflection in a bucket of water, scraping stubble off his scalp with a well-kept razor and a bar of soap. It had only been enough hair for you to see that he was fair-headed, but you’d thought that already with his pale skin and piercing eyes.

He screwed his eyes shut for a second, then peered at you sideways, trying out a half-smile. “Would you believe I am already balding horribly? My family is cursed with it, indeed-“

You burst out laughing at that, a terrible snort slipping out, but it made him snicker with you. “Shut up,” you said, “no, you’re not.”

“You’re so heartless, mocking my plight. My grandfather was bald as a coot at four-and-ten, I’ll have you know.”

You snorted again, and he was laughing into his mead, and it was beautiful. As you laughed, you lay back on the riverbank, pushing your mother’s lute to one side for now and pillowing an arm under your head. The night sky was twinkling down on you, broken up only by the glowing light spilling out of the inn, and you sighed. “I’m guessing it has something to do with you being recognisable.”

He sighed and lay down next to you. “Yes.”

Who is recognisable by their hair? You longed to ask, but you knew he would not answer. You rolled onto your side and used the hand not pillowed under your head to reach up and trace his cheek, under where his eyepatch sat. “And why do you never take this off? Even in the height of the day, when it chafes your skin.”

He watched you, either struggling to choose his words or struggling to find any words at all. “You would not mind if I took it off?”

You shook your head. “It causes you pain,” you said, “and I have seen… things.” You swallowed. “I have seen enough of war to know what is ugly in a person - cruelty, vengeance, rabid desire. No injury of the flesh could ever compare to that.”

“You say that as though I have no injury of the soul to match my injury of the flesh,” he said, quiet, solemn.

“I have seen nothing of it!” You answered, sharper than you intended, but you were so sick of him painting himself in such dark colours when you had yet to see anything of the sort. “I see a man tired and worn down by a life that has not been good to him and dealing with that as best as he can—the same as any of us. Only gods and kings are perfect; even then, it’s all just stories. You are doomed to fail if that is what you aspire to. Just… set your sights lower. If you make yourself feel good and you make others feel good… what else matters?”

He swallowed hard. “I…” he stuttered, “I have never aspired to something so humble, yet so terrifying.”

You were cupping his cheek, and the glossy look in his eye was breaking your heart. “What do you want? Right now?”

Maybe the mead made you so bold, or perhaps it emboldened him to choke out an answer.

“You.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek. “You have me,” you murmured.

He reached up, slowly at first, then faster, and pulled you closer. “Am I not… taking advantage? Of your parents’ hospitality?”

You smiled. He was sweet. “My parents only wish to protect me from wandering hands I do not invite. I am not a blushing maiden whose virtue must be guarded by a shining knight. I am just a soul, and I wish to be cherished, like all souls.”

His kiss was as sweet as a sigh, like waking up warm and comfortable with the sun breaking through the window. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you close, almost on top of him, arms twisting around you like he was afraid you might vanish if he did not hold on.

He was shivering under your lips and the tips of your fingers, and you wrapped yourself around him, chasing off the cold. He kissed like he was savouring something incredible—slow and lazy, nearly forgetting to gasp for air. By the Seven, he was so severe, so earnest, he even kissed with seriousness and earnestness. Your breathing was haggard, and he broke the kiss at last, your lips shining and only an inch from his. He held your cheek, ran his thumb under your eye, and pressed a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Good?” You asked, your voice wavering and unsteady.

He smiled and kissed you again. “Glorious.”

a/n: experimenting with focusing on the writing more than the editing, so this might be pretty rough - let me know if you spot anything that needs fixed/improved!

taglist (dm/reply to be added): @dracaryxzs

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Interest 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

Note: this one is a bit longer than I anticipated!

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Hmm, I don’t know Camila,” Cole picks out the washer, “I don’t think this will fix the problem. Sounds like a different issue than the pipe.”

“Yes, well, my husband said to get this,” she ho-hums, “thanks so much for helping me find this.”

“No problem,” He grins, his baby blue eyes deceivingly bright, “I know this place pretty well. We order most things in bulk but you can’t wait weeks when it’s an emergency. Especially with farmwork.”

“Oh my, you are so responsible. It’s just you and your parents on the farm?” She flutters her lashes. Maybe your dad should be concerned.

You stand off to the side, staring down toilet seats as they chatter. Neither of them have stopped and you’re not bothered fading into the background. Hell, you prefer they forget you entirely. You look down at the cactus in your hand, you could just sneak off with this new prickly friend.

“Yeah. Sister comes to visit but someone needed to stay behind. There’s too much work for just my dad and we never recovered fully from the recession. Can’t really afford a hand.” Cole explains.

“Aw, oh, how dreadful,” your mother gestures like a melancholy Victorian widow. “I’m sure your parents appreciate how helpful you are…”

You don’t miss her eyes as they stray in your direction. You give a scowl, you’re helpful. You take the garbage out and do the dishes. Hell, you’re the only reason the toaster works again.

“Yeah well, I know when I was younger, they probably didn’t feel the same. You know, you just gotta get perspective and learn what’s important.”

Okay, this is ridiculous. They are drinking the same flavorade and you’re more of a cream soda girl. You peer around evasively.

“Well, mom, you got the washer thingy, we should get going. Dad’ll be waiting,” you say.

“I suppose you’re right. Oh, and we still have to hit Eddie’s for dinner,” she recalls, “hm, what a long day it’s been.”

“Eddie's? Oh, I know that place. Owner’s a buddy of mine. I could probably get you a deal.”

“We’re good,” you insist as you step forward, “we got our cactus and our thingamajig. We can pay for dinner.”

“Honey, he’s just being nice,” your mother reproaches, “it is so sweet of you, Cole, but it would be a bit much.”

“You know, that’s a good idea. I should head down that way too,” Cole swiftly diverts her denial, “mom and dad love a good kebab. I always try to bring ‘em something when I come to town.”

“Oh, my heart,” your mother squees, “you are such a good son.”

You clear your throat. Your mother gives you a look. Cole glances over, his head tilted victoriously. He’s effectively making you look like a real bum and you just made a couple hundred.

“Look, I can tell you two are in a hurry,” he shifts suddenly, reaching under his jacket, “I’ll give you my card. I’m down at the market three times a week. If you need any tips about the cactus or maybe looking for a buddy for it, you can always call.”

“Wow, thank you, Cole,” your mom accepts with a fawning gaze, “oh, honey, you hold onto this,” she waves the card in your direction, “I’ll just lose it.”

You reluctantly step closer and take the card. More like rip it up. You pinch it between your knuckles and retreat. Again, Cole peeks over at you.

“I gotta go grab that sod,” he leans back on his heel, “see ya around… I hope.”

“You too, sweetie,” your mom preens.

He backs up, his eyes flitting between you and your mom. He gives you a smile and slowly turns on his heel. He struts away with a bit of a hop, almost as if he’s nervous. You scoff and shake your head. What a show.

“He is so nice!” Your mother announces shrilly, “oh my, and so handsome. And tall and dreamy. His eyes, god those eyes.”

“Mom, you’re married. You know, to dad?” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, hush, I saw you looking at him and he was looking at you,” she fans herself, “you would make the cutest babies.”

“God, ew, another word and you're getting the cactus,” you warn.

“What? You too would be adorable and I can tell, he’s single. He didn’t mention a wife or anything. And a farm? You’d be set for life, and your kids could run all around–”

“He’s a stranger and you’re talking about babies,” you sneer, “please, before I throw up.”

“That whole hard to get thing, it doesn’t work, honey,” she chides.

“I’m not– I don’t want him to get me. I’d prefer I never see him again. Ever. Forever.”

She giggles, “don’t be so dramatic. What did he do to you? He was perfectly sweet. Good manners. Good posture…”

“Really mom, should I be concerned for your marriage,” you snort.

“If only. I think I’m a bit too old for him,” she mourns with a swoon.

“If we don’t get something to eat soon, I’m going to lose my appetite,” you stick your tongue out.

“You are a brat. I’m your mother, you know?” You set off down the aisle next to her as she finally abandons the plumbing shelf. “Why can’t you be like Cole. Such a good boy.”

“Oh my god! Mom, you don’t know him. How do you even know he told the truth? What if there is no farm?”

“You don’t know him either, do you? So maybe, before you assume the worst, you should give him a chance.”

“A chance?” You puff out, “never. He’s an order number, nothing else. And old.”

Your mom tisks and turns towards checkout. You avoid looking at her as her disappointment radiates off her. She wiggles the washer in her hand.

“Where’s that card, I’ll put it in my purse.”

“Ugh, take it,” you flick it at her, “I was just gonna dump it in the trash.”

“Why, with how prickly you are, we shouldn’t need any more cactuses,” she chides.

[imaginesbymk]

RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE

PUTTING (EUPHORIA) MAKEUP ON THEM

Characters: Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr. Pink, Mr. Brown + “Nice Guy” Eddie 

Tags: swearing, tarantino characters not appreciating the beauty of makeup ??

Taglist: @locke-writes​ & @aryn-the-bearheart​

A/N: i am currently planning a reservoir dogs/pulp fiction x OC AU fic that's euphoria-themed, but i feel like its just hyper fixation and my untreated adhd will just make me abandon it entirely and bounce back to fixating on HBO war fics :P enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^

( i added links to the makeup looks they have lol! its highlighted so you will see )

━︎ MR. WHITE ( LARRY DIMMICK )

He thinks you're joking, but you're so serious

Mr. White laughs out loud. "C'mon. Don't do that to me, y/n. I'll wear those things the day aliens land and go clubbing in L.A."

One time he's so drunk from the bar that he comes home and gets too curious when he sees you organizing your makeup station. "All right, I'll bite. Make me look like a doll."

He's not sober so he moves too much, and you're struggling.

"Finally done!"

He checks the vanity. You went simple but bold on graphic eyeliner. "Ho-ly shit!" He laughs. "I could pick up women and men at the bar if I went out like this earlier."

━︎ MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE )

Freddy has a nice eye shape, so you decide to give him a smokey eye look with glitter tears

He lowkey doesn't mind it, he knows he's good looking so why not add more shine to it?

"Stop moving, Freddy. You'll make me mess up."

He checks the mirror. "How do you come up with this?"

You take a lot of photos of him, and he keeps it on for the whole day that he'll forget that he's wearing makeup

Officer Holdaway from the police department visits him at the apartment with some case files he picked up for him. "What the FUCK happened to you, man?"

━︎ MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA )

He thinks it's too girly, and would only appreciate it if it was worn on someone attractive

Mr. Blonde mainly likes red lipstick and loves it when you leave lipstick stains on him

You're actually worried that he'll touch his face too much that it'll ruin his makeup (he touches his face too much)

He's so annoyed that he finally gives in and lets you experiment.

You let him choose the colours on the palette. "I dunno, that one."

He hums when he looks in the mirror. "Yeah. It's cool." He kinda likes it, but he immediately makes you wipe it all off.

━︎ MR. PINK

There is absolutely no way Pink is ever gonna wear makeup, let alone let you put a dab of blush on him

He will literally swat your hand away and try to throw you off the couch when you pounce on his lap with a powder brush in your hand

He's passed out on the couch and you slowly and carefully apply pink liner on him

He wakes up all groggy, annoyed, and confused as to why you're smiling and laughing so devilishly. "What's the fuckin' matter with you?" He goes into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. "Y/N L/N YOU ARE SO DEAD."

━︎ MR. BROWN

Brown will only say yes as long as you don't make him go out in public

"Fine," he huffs. "But I want a Madonna glam."

You agreed because he couldn't stop talking about Like A Virgin the whole day.

As he's watching you look at the eyeshadow palette, you decide on the neon colours for the 80s vibe.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," he says to you.

He keeps bombarding you with questions about the brushes. "There's a whole routine to makeup?! Jesus."

"I guess I do feel kinda pretty," he chuckles to himself in the mirror.

He messes up his makeup because he kept scratching his eyes!!!!

━︎ NICE GUY EDDIE ( EDDIE CABOT )

"No fuckin' way, y/n. Do I look like a lab rat?"

"I promise I'll make it look cool." You bribe him to do it. You'll do extra hours with Dove if he lets you do his makeup.

He's in his office chair and you're sitting cross-legged on his desk, working on his face like an artist with their canvas.

He's sweating and constantly checks the door because anyone can walk in, even Joe or the Dogs, and see him wearing makeup. He would have to crawl into a turtle shell and go into hiding for the rest of his life if his Dad caught him.

"Jesus, are you almost done?"

"Just about done." You put the lid back. "Do you like it?"

He checks the tiny mirror on the wall. "Oh." He nods. "Did you superglue gems on my face?!"

The door opens. Mr. Blonde is standing there, jaw dropped on the floor.

[masalalala-chaii]

🎊Host चाय ka blog🎊

Owner of @desi-gapshap-announcement and @desiblr-gapshap

*Cameras turning on* *intro music playing*

[Dil walo ke dil ka karar lutne me aayi hu desiblr walo ke dil lutne.]

"Soon aap sabke dilo ko sach me lut-" *pointing at the audience*

"Everyone hates your rude side, so work on that. To win everyone's heart... you have to work hard." Said @alhad-titli (my तितली bhabhi who is my co-host as well.)

"Ha ha thik hai ab logo ko sach hajam nhi hota to meri kya galati..."

*Ehem!!!* *Singing* "Aise host ki baato me koi kese na aaye? Ho chai ki chapad chapad.... Yes I'm a bathroom Singer and am learning guitar. Ha me flex kar rahi hu so what?"

*तितली giving me side eye*

"Anyway... Welcome welcome welcome.... Even though you couldn't follow your dream under your desi parent's pressure and were forced to follow their chosen career path, you can still choose to who you want to follow on tumblr.

So why don't you follow right things here instead of following someone who is too hard to approach? You don't have a guts to reach out to your favorite mutual? Worry not we are here for that.

We will help you out but for that Go and follow @desi-gapshap-announcement and @desiblr-gapshap right now. Don't miss the chance to have a surprise shout-out."

"Bohot promotion ho gaya... Ab meri baari So hello guys chai pi lo-" *my co-host तितली bhabhi giving me side eye again*

"pardon my chai obsession guys. Let's retake again... Cut!" *तितली sighing*

*Ehem!!!* (Masculinity at it's finest because I'm tomboy with girly heart who loves desiness.)

"Ram Ram. Aapka swagat hai mere host blog par. Vese to me ek sushil sanskari sundar kanya hu par-"

"Jaldi bol inhe scrolling karne bhi nikalna hai" said तितली from the side. "Hum yaha tera patni material hone ka interview nhi le rahe."

"Pardon my bak bak again... Kabhi kabaar idhar udhar nikal jaati hu. Ek aur baar retake kare ky-"

"Jaldi bol le warna me kisi aur ko co-host ki seat de dungi!" Said तितली strictly.

So hello guys I'm your hot host चाय. Yes चाय humesha hot hi hoti hai. No argument. Agar ye bola kisi ne ki thandi pite hai to we will have a problem..." *तितली glaring at me*

"So as I was telling you about my host blog... I will interview different celebrities of our desi side of tumblr and we will have fun conversation here. Sometimes I can be little mischievous so I hope you will forgive me."

"I will reblog question and answers of whichever guest I'm interviewing. And yes I will banter with my co-host as well. Which will be the behind the scenes."

You can send ask to be interviewed by me if you want, you can dm if you are too shy.

Definitely I'm turning anons off because I don't want creepy anons cause of past incidents here.

For more details go and check out our main blogs.

@desi-gapshap-announcement

@desiblr-gapshap

@alhad-titli ( who is my bhabhi as well as our co host )

*Cameras turning off*

"It was okay. Good thing I didn't expect much from you." तितली fixed her hair.

"Hehehe... Vese bhabhi itna kaam karva rahi ho salary discuss kab karen-"

"Konsi salary? Ja kar bartan manjh." Said तितली bhabhi with dead serious poker face.

*Heart broken**crying in corner* "Guys justice for चाय please!"

*Gun shot* "What justice?" तितली asked after borrowing gun from Om.

"Kesa justice?! I'm happy!!!! I'm so happy to be here hehehe..." *wiping sweat and following after her as तितली left in search of guests.

[rebelwrites]

Sunrise And Realisations

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Maybe Summer Doesn’t Have to End

Summary: Charles knew you wasn’t a morning person but on your last day together he gets you out of bed at 3am to witness the sunrise across the city

Warnings: none just pure fluff

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Charles stood leaning against the door frame of the bedroom taking on the sight before him, you were fast asleep in bed, the moonlight casting a soft glow across the room. It was a sight he would never get sick of seeing, but he let out a sigh as he realised that today was the last day you were in Monaco. The last night you would sleep in his bed, the last time you would share coffee on the balcony in the morning, the last time he would hear you get excited when you saw a dog, the last time he would hear you sing badly in the shower.

He didn’t want this break to end, he wanted to spend his time wrapped up with you. All his stress washed away when he was with you. Turning his gaze to the digital clock on his nightstand he smiled to himself as the red numbers blinked 03:00. It was time. He had planned this trip the other morning wanting to make your last day together as special as he could.

Quietly he moved across the bedroom, running his fingers down your exposed back, the slight groan that came from you made him smile.

“Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.” He whispered, watching you stir under his touch.

“It’s still dark.” You mumbled into the pillow, refusing to move. “What time is it?”

“3am,” he chuckled, moving his fingers to your hair.

“Char, it’s too early.” You groaned, “come back to bed, baby.”

“We have plans. So you need to get out of bed.” He whispered, moving his hand as you rolled over. “I will go make you a coffee, and wear something comfy and warm.”

As he walked out of the room he chuckled to himself at your constant moaning that it was far too early to be up but a proud sensation washed over him when he heard you shout “C'est un putain de moment ridicule pour être éveillé. Tu es sûr qu'on ne peut pas se rendormir ?. This is a fucking ridiculous time to be awake. You sure we can't go back to sleep?.” Yes it wasn’t perfectly pronounced and you stumbled over your words a few times but the fact you were starting to be able to say full sentences in French caused his heart to swell.

Leaning against the counter he waited for the coffee machine to finish brewing, he pulled his phone out checking his social media. Another low chuckle escaped his lips when he saw that your tattoo was now making the rounds on Instagram. It seems like the fans were stalking your page.

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he stared at the screen, the black lines of your tattoo shining bright. He still found it adorable that this was the tattoo Rena chose for you. The outline of the F1-75 with the number 16 in the middle, it was simple but he loved it, he loved tracing the lines with his fingers when you were snuggled up in bed.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realise you were now standing in front of him until you pressed a kiss against his cheek.

The corners of his lips tugged into a smile as he took in your appearance, the hoodie you were wearing was obviously stolen out of his wardrobe judging by the size and how snuggled you were in it, your half asleep expression made the sight even cuter than it already was.

“This better be worth getting me up this early.” You mumbled, gratefully taking the travel mug of coffee from Charles.

“Trust me babygirl, it will be worth it.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Now come on, otherwise we will miss it.”

“Miss what?” You mumbled, as you both walked out of his apartment.

“You will see.” He smirked.

Charles knew the perfect spot to take you to witness the beauty of the sunrise, it was around a forty minute drive from his place. Glancing to his side his smile grew as he realised that you had fallen back asleep, the hood on his hoodie pulled up and resting your head against the window.

He found it so cute that you really wasn’t an early riser, especially the small pout that was permanently on your face from the moment he woke you up.

The only sound in the car was the engine and the low hum of the radio. Charles found peace in the quiet, something completely opposite to the fast paced life he knew.

Due to it being so early in the morning the streets were extremely quiet meaning the forty minute drive only took thirty and he was soon pulling up to the spot that overlooked the harbour of Monaco.

He had spent many mornings parked here, watching as the sun rose, the pink and orange hues casting a glow on the water. This was one of his favourite spots in his home country, one he had never shared with anyone else apart from now, with you.

It felt right to be here with you.

He quickly checked the time on his phone, smiling when he saw that there was only about a twenty minute wait for the sun to come up, glancing over to you he decided to let you sleep for ten more minutes before he woke you again.

Sinking into the seat of his Ferrari he scrolled through the photos that had been taken of the two of you, his heart racing that hit faster as he swiped through them.

Everything was perfect but there was still that feeling that this was coming to an end today, he really didn’t want to have to say goodbye to you and even though he vowed to himself would try and make the long distance work there was still a part of him that didn’t believe it would happen. He had seen so many relationships fall apart due to distance and he didn’t want either of you to endure that heartbreak.

Running his hand over his face he shook the thought out of his head, he wanted to cherish the final moments he had with you today not upset himself with the future. He just had to keep reminding himself that if this is meant to be then you would both find a way to make it work, distance or no distance.

Turning the engine off he reached over and placed his hand on yours, brushing his thumb over your skin.

“Babygirl, we are here.” He whispered, smiling to himself as you grumbled before lifting your head off the window.

“Where are we?” You asked, using your other hand to rub your eyes.

“My favourite spot in the whole city.” He hummed, pulling your hand to his mouth, pressing soft kisses against your knuckles.

Before you knew it he made a swift exit out of the car and was opening the passenger side door, offering you his hand to help you out.

As you climbed out of his Ferrari a long yawn escaped your mouth as Charles pulled you into his chest, pressing a kiss against your head.

Due to how early it was there was a chill in the air as Charles guided you towards the edge of what was basically a mountain. As soon as Charles was happy with the spot he laid down the blanket that you didn’t realise he had brought.

“You know I’ve never brought anyone to this spot.” He hummed, dropping to the floor before pulling you down in between his legs. “I didn’t feel anyone was special enough for this spot.”

“Char.” You breathed, snuggling back into him as he pulled another blanket over the two of you.

“This is the spot I come when I need the world to pause for a moment, when I’ve had a bad run with races, when I need to think.” He whispered, lacing his fingers with yours.

You didn’t know what to say as tears filled your eyes threatening to spill over your lash line.

No one had ever treated you the way Charles was treating you. He put your every need first, made you feel like the only girl in the world. Everything felt right with him. Nothing was forced and from the moment you met you clicked, even though you can only remember pieces of that night.

“I’m actually lost for words.” You whispered, playing with his rings on his fingers. “I don’t know what to say,” you breathed, “no one has ever treated me like this before.”

“Ma chérie, you deserve the world.” He whispered against your ear, his lips brushing the shell as his spoke sending shivers down your spine. “This was the reason I woke you so early.” He said softly, pointing out to the sky just as the sun was starting to come up.

The view took your breath away, you always loved sunrises but had never been able to drag yourself up that early to witness the natural beauty of it.

“It’s breathtaking.” You whispered, letting your eyes dart across the multitudes of pink and orange hues that were scattered across the sky.

“Even more breathtaking sharing it with you.”

A comfortable silence washed over the pair of you as you watched the sun rise across the city you had fallen in love with.

That’s when it hit you, and it hits you like a freight train. The realisation that Charles was the one for you. He had walked into your heart like he alway belonged there, taking down your walls over the course of the couple of weeks you had spent together and in that time set your soul on fire. The connection you had was something you couldn’t explain, it was like your souls knew each other, maybe from a past life.

You always used to laugh at your grandad when he told you that when you met the one you would feel it, but maybe he was right, maybe all the pain and heartache you had suffered in your past was your heart trying to find to find it’s one true love, it’s soulmate, it’s other half.

A smile crept onto your face as you thought about what your grandad’s reaction to Charles would be. You knew that he would love him the moment they met but you just hoped that they would get that opportunity.

This was only meant to have been a summer fling, a bit of fun but as the days passed the connection was getting stronger and you knew that the goodbye later this evening was going to be extremely hard and painful. As much as you wanted to stay in Monaco deep down you knew it wasn’t possible. You still didn’t have a job and weren't going to let Charles pay for everything.

Snuggling further into Charles you started fiddling with his bracelets as your mind wandered some more.

Charles wasn’t watching the sky anymore but his attention was solely on you, he could see you were deep in thought and he quickly picked up on the internal battle you were having. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head he squeezed you tighter.

He tried not to let the tears fall that had formed in his eyes. Tonight wasn’t going to be hard, seeing you slip through his fingers but he knew it had to happen and if this was meant to be you would both find your way back to each other.

Unaware Charles was having a similar internal battle you blinked away the tears, trying not to focus on having to say goodbye to Charles. Right now you need to make the most of your final hours together.

Taking a deep breath you opened your eyes, staring out across the city, that’s when the biggest realisation hit you.

You had fallen in love with Charles Leclerc and you had fallen hard.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo676 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje

[thekeatoncadet]

Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean ya ain’t nasty :/

[hotxcheeto]

the reader tops chloe with the strap >:) also if u want it can be like a pt.2 to rainbow and have some fluff >>:)))

━ 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐍

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x G/N!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, use of strap on, kissing, hickies, fluff, top!reader, bottom!chloe,

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - lowkey a sequel to this fic right HERE thank you for the rq though lmao sorry it took so long lovely!

REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED

"Would you actually fuck me with it?"

It had been two days since your little introduction to the fake cock that Chloe had bought. The rainbow colors making you squeeze your thighs together when you thought about her fucking you with it.

But she'd been so needy with you lately, you were beginning to take true to your words about doing the same to her. Watching her beside you staring at her laptop that played a youtube video that was funny to her, hearing her giggle or chuckle every few minutes.

Her head resting on your stretched out arm that had gone completely numb, your other around her waist, hand holding your own nice and tight to assure you she was still there as you slept.

You could see the screen over her shoulder, having been spooning her for the past hour while you were napping. Her ass pushing against your front once you woke up, digging your face in her neck while shifting around.

"Y/n?" "Hm?" She laughed at your groggy voice, head popping up into her view while she peeked over her shoulder. "Sleep good hotstuff?" You rubbed your eyes, hugging her closer to you while nodding. "Yeah."

She hummed at your answer, video now ended she rolled over to face you, just millimeters apart, lightly biting the tip of your nose to get you to smile.

"What time is it?" "Almost seven." You groaned, hand wrapped around her body to her ass giving it a light squeeze. "I had a really good dream." "Yeah, I see that." You sat up, limb still trapped up underneath her neck a shit-eating grin on her face while she snuggled into your forearm.

"I wanna fuck you." "For real? You just opened your eyes."

You stared at her with much seriousness, tilting your head a bit before she jumped up, pushing you onto your back. Straddling your waist watching your face lighten up at the feeling of her thighs squeezing your hips.

"But only if I get to use that new strap." You giggled, hands resting on her bare thighs as she nodded, leaning down to kiss you tasting the cigarette you both shared before you'd fallen asleep.

"Deal."

That's how you got here, lips on hers and fake cock strapped around your pelvis while Chloe continuously pushed towards you. Wanting more that you weren't quite ready to give her.

"I love you, you know that?" You smirked, the words sounded insincere from the way you spoke, teasing her with the tip of the dick. Running it along her soaked folds, circling her clit with the silicone head. "I– I lov–love you too you– fuck–" she panted staring down between her legs where her shorts and panties had been stripped for her and the plastic cock rested in your hand.

"Fuck Y/n.." "I love this." You muttered, fingers moving to massage her inner thigh, while the other circled her hole, slowly beginning to push yourself inside her.

"Oh fuck Y/n–" She breathed, grabbing your hand in her own as you began a to set a steady pace with her, moving your hips back and forth. Excitedly biting your lip.

"How's that feel?" "Good.." You hummed, leaning back down to kiss her once more, then down her neck towards her t-shirt that you both knew had nothing underneath it.

"Chloe, you're so pretty." You teased, seeing her flustered face when you moved back up to kiss her cheek.

Thrusting towards her faster making the entire bed and its frame begin to move.

"I love you so much." Her blush made you want to want to fuck her harder, her hands gripping your biceps while you drilled into her.

"Y/n– fu–uck that feels goo–ood–" "Oh yeah?" You pulled her shirt up exposing her pretty tits to you, the hand not holding yours moving down to play with her nipples, leaning down to take a little lick over her sensitive nub.

Continuing to screw your hips into her own, wet sounds and skin on skin slapping filling your shared bedroom up to the brim overflowing out into the rest of the apartment.

"Fuck you're amazing." You muttered, licking over her tit again before returning to her mouth, tasting the salty sweat on her lips and her lust for you. "Y/n m'gonna cum." Chloe groaned, head falling back against the pillows while gripping you as tight as she could, painted purple nails digging into your soft skin.

"Good girl."

Chloe liked to deny how much she liked when you called her that, whether it be a joke or you actually praising her for things.

Whether she was the dom or sub of the night, she loved it and loved to eat it up, turning red when you'd let those two little words slip from your lips.

"Fuck!" You took the moment she threw her head far back to bite and suck at her neck, continuing your animalistic pace into her pussy as her thighs squeezed you tight keeping you between her legs.

Finally beginning to slow she tried to catch her breath, clutching your upper arms as she came, hips stuttered and little whines spilling from her mouth.

"Aww... Chlo? You okay?" She knew you were teasing her, but it felt so good, looking at you with teary eyes and a light nod.

"That was really fucking good." You laughed looking down at where the fake cock was still snug inside of her. "That was really fucking fun."

"I'm ready to take another nap now, join me?"

"Wait, I wanna ride." You stared at Chloe for a minute. "Fine, only because you're adorable." "Y/nnn."

[supernaturalgirl20]

Not again

Pairings: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, angst and fluff.

Summary: you hate Dieter Fucking Bravo. You hate him you hate him you…love him! Things are complicated, and when he’s cast along side you on a new movie you are absolutely fucking furious. Heartbroken….Maybe a little turned on.

A/N: I have this written like a week and I keep changing it so I’m just posting it now and being done with it 🤣 writer problems 😳

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were livid. You were upset. You were…so turned on. Nope, not going down that road again.

This was a monumental fuck up, and you were going to kill Amber. How could she have gotten you into the same movie as him. Had you not made it clear you never wanted to see him again? Never even wanted to hear his name. He had broken your heart into a million pieces. You thought he loved you too, that you had changed his wild ways but you were so wrong.

The memory of that night still fresh in your mind.

***

Laying here beside him with your fingers running along his chest, his arm wrapped tight around you, you found it hard to control your emotions. This thing between you both had started as a casual fling. Something to take the edge off. Then you had to catch feelings, of course you did and you didn’t know if he felt the same. He’d told you once that he wasn’t seeing anyone else just you. Did that mean he loved you too?

“Dieter?”

“Hmm,” he hums. His eyes still closed as he fingers stroke the skin on your back.

“I…uh…I love you.” Biting your lip anxiously waiting for him to say something, anything. You feel him stiffen beside you, the movement of his fingers come to a halt.

Suddenly he’s sitting up abruptly and pushing you off.

“What do you mean you love me? You can’t. This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“I know but I can’t help how I feel. Come on you can’t tell me you don’t feel the same, I thought thing’s between us…”

“You thought what? That because I wasn’t fucking other women that I was in love with you. That you were special? Well guess what, you’re not! I don’t love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you begin to slowly back away from him. Fro a moment to swear you see a hint of sadness and guilt flash across his eyes but it’s gone in seconds. Quickly grabbing your clothes you try so hard to hold back the tears but they escape regardless. Before you close the door behind you, you take one last look at the man you love. He’s pacing the room his hands running through his hair. He doesn’t even glance your way as you say goodbye.

You spent the night in bed wrapped beneath your covers. Heartbroken. The following morning you arrive on set slowly making your way towards the make up trailer. Too caught up in your own head you fail to hear the moans coming from inside. A gasp escapes you when you open the door to find Dieter fucking the make up artist. Tears falling freely down your face you run off set failing to hear your name being called. Dieter stands there watching you leave, his heart aching with guilt for what he’d done.

“Fuck!”

***

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t know honestly,” Amber says rushing behind you as you storm off to your trailer.

“How did you not know? You know why I can’t work with him again.” Your breathing becomes erratic as your try to calm yourself. “My heart can’t take it Amber,” you say almost in a whisper. “I still…I still love him.”

“Maybe I can get you out of this! I can tell them an emergency has…”

“No! No it’s fine. I…I can’t avoid him forever right and maybe I won’t actually have to work directly with him.”

Those words should never have left your lips. This is Murphy Law. Of course you were his love interest, of course. The universe has conspired against you for some wrong you did in a past life you just know it. Sitting on your chair waiting for the crew to set up you decide to ho over your lines until you feel his presence on set. You try so hard to stay focused on the words in front of you, to avoid looking over at him but you can’t help it. Flicking your eyes over him you see him chatting with the director before his eyes are on you. Quickly turning back towards the papers in your hand you close your eyes and pray he doesn’t come over.

“Hey Y/N…you look…you look great.”

“Thanks.”

You don’t elaborate hoping he’ll get the hint and leave. Please leave.

He hops in the chair beside you and turns his whole frame towards you.

“It’s been a long time. I tried to…”

“What are you doing Dieter?”

“What do you mean?”

“This. Why are over here chatting with me? We’re not friends.”

“I know I just…I was just….”

“Y/N, Dieter! Ok so we’re going to start with the sex scene.”

Oh fuck!

Your heart is beating frantically within your chest and you can feel the sweet begin to drip down your forehead. Of course this was happening. Hopping off the chair you head to your trailer to prepare leaving a very sad looking Dieter staring after you.

***

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. Even as he lay in the bed beside you, naked except for his boxers. You were naked too. Just a flimsy thong that barely covered anything. The director was talking but you couldn’t focus on the words. Couldn’t focus on anything other then the sound of your heartbeat.

It wasn’t until Dieter gently pushed you back on the bed that you snapped out of it. His eyes were looking deep into your own. Those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes that you used to love staring at as you lay in bed.

“You ok?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you ok?”

“What do you care?” You say with a scoff.

“I do care!”

“What?”

“I care about you.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“And action.”

The scene called for the two of you, two lovers reunited after a long time apart, to make soft sweet love to each other. It wasn’t hard to pretend. You both have done this dance before. Know how each other sounds in the throws of passion. You both know each others bodies like the back of your hands.

“Oh,” you gasp. Is he hard? He grinds into your hips again and oh god it feels so good. He buries his face into your neck and whispers into your ear.

“How bout we give them a real show?”

You moan out again as he continues to grind against you, drawing you closer to that release.

“Yes!”

It was meant for him. He knows that. To the crew it’s just part of the scene. “You sure baby?”

“Yes please.”

You only now realise he isn’t wearing any boxers as he slides the thing to the side and lines up at your core. One thrust and he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

“Oh.” You both moan. The feeling of him filling you has you almost coming already. He begins to rock into you slowly. Your so lost in the moment you forget your on camera.

“I…I love you baby.”

Those words. The ones you longed to hear that night fall from his lips and even though you know it’s for the scene you can’t help the cry of his name you let out as you come. He’s not far behind as he thrusts once more before spilling inside you.

Your startled by the sound of clapping. “That was amazing you two. We don’t have to do a retake. Excellent.”

He pulls out of you and quickly fixes his boxers. He turns to talk to you but you’ve already wrapped yourself in your robe and are making your way to your trailer.

***

What did you do? Why did you let him do that to you again? He’s only using you.

The door to your trailer burst open startling you.

“Dieter?”

“Why’d you run off? I want to talk to you baby.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Please just hear me out.”

“Why? What was that back there? I..”

“We had sex is what happened. Mind blowing sex at that. God I’ve missed you baby.” He says moving closer to you.

“Don’t! Please!”

“Baby..”

“Just go.”

“No!” He says stepping closer until he’s flush against you. His hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m not letting you go again. I can’t it will kill me. I love you Y/N. I have for a long time, even that night you told me…I was afraid. I shouldn’t have acted like that, it’s no excuse but I was terrified. I don’t do relationships. My mom and dad weren’t exactly great role models. Look I’m sorry baby for hurting you like that. If you give me another chance I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

“Dieter I don’t know, you really hurt me I..”

“Do you love me?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Do. You. Love. Me?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s enough. I want to start again. Just you and me. I love you so much and I’ve been trying to get a hold of you but I couldn’t..”

“Yeah I blocked you.”

“Can’t blame you for that. It’s why I told the director to keep my involvement in this movie quiet. I knew if you found out you wouldn’t do it.”

“Your damn right I wouldn’t have done it. You fucking broke my heart. I wanted to just be with you, properly not just a quick fuck.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I haven’t been with anyone since you and I don’t want anyone but you. Baby your it for me, if you’ll have me?”

You stand there quiet. Unsure of how you feel about this. You love him always have, probably always will. Can you get over how he treated you.

“Just give us one more chance, please?”

“Ok but if you fuck me over again were done.”

“I won’t I promise baby,” he says pulling you close. He’s not going to fuck this up. The small velvet box in his pocket is a testament to that .

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[jkknight98]

Friends in the Walls pt 2

Here's part two of this little story line you guys seem to be really enjoying (all the likes and reblogs brighten my day more than you guys know), this time from Tubbo's perspective. Will the small boy be ok in this new development he's found himself in, only time will tell~

I hope you guys enjoy and remember to at least drink water and eat one thing today.

Warnings: vore implications, fear of death, foul language from a certain gremlin.

Tubbo was absolutely terrified as he squirmed in the tight grip of the giant that randomly showed up in his and Ranboo’s home, he had thought his husband had returned when he heard the door to the room creaked open and had hobbled his way out from under the bed to show off the progress he had made, but he screamed when he saw the giant face looking eagerly down at him. He flinched when he felt the giant’s thumb brush the top of his head, pausing slightly when they felt his horns that were normally hidden in his hair.

“You even have little horns to go with your ears, gosh you're adorable, Tommy is going to absolutely love you.” The giant continued to smile down at him as he lifted him towards his face and took a light sniff of him,” You even smell like Honey, sucks that you have to be injured, or else I would have popped you in to see if you taste like it.” The giant lowered him back down to chest level and began humming a cheery tune as he walked further into the house, still absentmindedly stroking his head and back.

The giant's words made him shiver, if he wasn’t injured was the giant going to eat him?? He and Ranboo heard stories of giants eating the borrows that they caught, but he didn’t think they were real… What was going to happen to him?

Tubbo kept looking towards the ground and various shady spots around the house to try and see if he could see Ranboo, desperate to try and see the comforting presence but was unable as the giant was moving too quickly. He started to get motion sickness as the giant went up the stairs two at a time in its excitement, calling for a ‘Technoblade’ and for him to let a Tommy out for a surprise.

He was jolted out of his sickness when they reached the top of the stairs and a door opened to reveal the most terrifying giant Tubbo had seen beside the Ram giant from their last home, this giant looked down at him with a unimpressed red eyes and large tusks making his frown look more menacing. The giant huffed before looking at the one holding him,” surprised you didn’t eat this one, you sure about giving him to Tommy?” The giant crossed its arms as it then moved to stare at him, the crimson orbs looking at him as if they were judging his soul, and made him want to curl in on himself to try and disappear.

The one holding Tubbo sighed as he lifted him higher to show off his bandaged leg,” trust me I really wanted to with how he smells, but he’s injured and there should be another one around here since he couldn’t bandage that on his own,” The giant gave a wide smile that showed off bright white teeth,” I'm going to go hunting.”

This made Tubbo start to squirm harder,” Leave him alone, just eat me but leave him alone!!” He managed to pull an arm free and used that to try and push himself from the giants grasp, but he was just turned over and dropped into the offered hand of the other giant, yelping when the slightly when the tinted pink digits curled around him and he was lifted towards the face of the new giant, really seeing what he now realizes to be boar like features.

This giant also took a whiff of his scent and gave a low rumble as the eyes dilated,” you do smell pretty good,” the mouth opened and Tubbo nearly passed out when a pink tongue slipped out to lick at the tusks,” You are lucky to be injured.” The giant then looked back to the other with another scowl,” have fun since you're making me babysit, lets just hope the other one didn’t bolt already.”

The pig haired giant started to turn away and Tubbo watched as the brown haired giant waved at him,” bye honey boy, have fun playing with Tommy, I'm going to go find your friend.” Tubbo screamed a loud noo at him, but the giant holding him shut the door behind him, cutting off his line of sight from the other giant.

The giant huffed lowly as he moved further into the room,” Theseus, are you still small, Wilbur got a surprise for you.”

This statement confused Tubbo a bit as he looked around the room, he would almost call it a childs room as alongside the giant sized items, there was an equal set of what giants called doll sized items that matched the giant ones. It scared Tubbo as he thought he was going to be given to a child, if adult giants were bad, child ones were way worse. They could be way crueler or be ignorant to what they were doing and could easily kill a borrower with a tantrum.  Tubbo closed his eyes as he was placed down in the doll room, knowing that there was nothing he could do but wait for his newest tormentor, and even if he tried to run the other giant would catch him.

“Why do you have your eyes shut like that, you look like you're waiting to be punched.”

The voice didn’t sound like a giant's voice, it almost sounded like it came from a borrower his own age. Tubbo slowly opened his eyes and actually felt his mouth drop open in shock at the sight he saw, standing in front of him was a blond haired, blue eyed borrower who was looking at him with a confused expression. The boy moved towards him slowly as he took in his appearance,” well you look like shit, did Wilby do this to you?” Tubbo continued to look on in confusion as the other borrower looked up at the giant still in the room with a scowl,” did you do this do him, you assholes always scare them like this, you can’t just scare them into being fucking friends with me.”

The pink haired giant just shrugged,” Wilbur was the one that found him but we didn’t do anything to him, must have happened when he was with the other one that's apparently running around.” The giant then reached down and gently pushed the blond with a soft grin,” it’s hard not to be the scary giants around them, don't act like you don't do the same thing when you're upsized.”

The blond only grumbled as he pushed back at the pink finger, giving a shout of ' Don't call me fucking Theseus' before turning back to Tubbo with a bright smile,” I’m sorry about my giant assholes of brothers, the names Tommy, what's yours since it seems like you're sticking around for a while.” The blond moved closer and gently held out his hand in an offering for a handshake.

Tubbo looked at the hand cautiously, looking at the blond first before sending a fearful glance at the giant. He really didn’t like how closely it was watching their interactions, did it think he was a threat to the other borrower, it didn’t make sense. He took a deep breath before taking the offered hand and gave it a slight shake,” Tubbo, why are you staying with giants, shouldn’t you've been..” He couldn’t force the words out of his mouth as he thought back to how both of the giants had wished to eat him earlier. Shouldn't they have eaten Tommy by now since he was perfectly fine?

Tommy just smiled,” Its because I'm not a borrower or a giant, I'm a size shifter. If you're wondering why I haven't been eaten… well it's because those assholes already had their time with me in their gut for today.” The blond them moved to Tubbo’s injured side and slid himself under the arms, helping relieve the strain that was being put on the injured appendage,” Come on, let's go play some video games, i managed to make a set up just perfect for this size and it's been ages since i've played someone that wasn’t family.”

The blond continued to yammer as he gently dragged Tubbo towards another part of the shrukin room, while he had been initially scared of the ‘size shifter’, he couldn’t help feeling relaxed around him. He smiled and laughed a little at the joke the blond made, which made him smile brightly in return, and relaxed a little further into the blond's hold. He did cast one last glance at the giant and was surprised to see the soft smile on his face as he watched the two of them, he was giving Tommy the same look that Ranboo gave him sometimes. Tubbo frowned as he thought of him, was Ranboo going to be ok with that other giant hunting him,would he be able to find Tubbo before that happened.

Tommy seemed to notice the worried look on his face and he slowed a bit in his excited chattering,” Whats up big man?” Tubbo gave a small smile at the irony at that statement, he was the shortest in the room, even if the giant wasn't there, but the smile fell again as he thought about what to tell this stranger. He needed to know what would happen to Ranboo.

“That other giant, if he finds Ran- my friend…. Is he going to eat him?” Tommy only frowned slightly as the other giant gave a low huff of a laugh, it made Tubbo look at him in worry as the giant moved to rest his chin in one of his hands. The giant was looking down at him with a smirk and an unreadable look in his eyes, almost as if he knew something Tubbo didn’t, while he continued to let out light chuckles as the blond next to him grumbled about how ‘they're just going to scare him again’.

“If Wilbur is the one to find him, then yes, he will eat him and good luck on getting your friend back from him.”

[tanzaniiite]

DAD BOD • SINGLE DAD DAICHI

requests: OPEN

warnings: body image insecurities

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

a/n: this chapter takes place further in the future

please reblog and reply, engagement is both fun & important ✨

happy birthday to my favorite captain 🥳 and dad bod daichi ftw

“Hey, do have any idea where your father is?”

Suzuki, now sixteen-years-old, glanced at you from her spot on the couch. “No… I think he’s still in the bathroom” She replied watching as your eyes widened slightly in shock.

“Still? I swear if we lose this reservation—”

You muttered slightly, mainly to yourself, as you attempted to put your two-year-old son’s shoes on. “No shoes!” Seiji cried kicking his shoes off for the umpteenth time. You let out an exasperated sigh, it was times like this you wish your husband would help. Seiji admired his father to no end and practically only listened to him. When you found out you were having a boy, you thought he would be a mama’s boy by default. You were sorely mistaken, both Suzuki and Seiji were suckers for their dad. “Ji, please let mommy put on your shoes. Please?” You pleaded but the moment you saw the little pout appear, you knew you lost.

“No shoes!”

“It’s 18:30 (6:30)” 

Suzuki called out since you had asked her to keep track of time for you. What the hell is taking him so long? You thought, picking up Seiji and walking to the living room. “Thank you, watch your brother for me. I’m going to check on your dad and make sure he’s not dead” You quipped passing the toddler off to his sister, who welcomed him with open arms. “Hey stink bug, you know, if you don’t put on your shoes you won’t get chicken tenders” The teen fibbed as her brother gaped at her statement.

Knowing he was in good hands, you made your way upstairs to the bathroom. You knocked lightly before entering, “Hey diva, let’s wrap it up, please. I would like to not lose your birthday reservation” You stated, hands on your hips. Normally, Sawamura would let out a small chuckle at your bossiness and tease you on your insistent need to be on time but today, you were met with nothing. “Sorry.. I must’ve lost track of time,” Daichi apologized before turning to you, “how do I look?” He inquired.

You smiled slightly as you looked him over. Daichi was wearing a simple black button-down, paired with matching black slacks and a red tie pulled the whole look together. You always did like how he looked in black. Moving closer to him, you started fixing his crooked tie. “Other than your tie being crooked… you look incredibly handsome” You complimented undoing the tie to retie it.

“Really? Are you sure?”

That question made you freeze. You glanced up at your husband, who wasn’t even looking at you but in the mirror instead. His brown eyes looked downcast as he looked over his appearance. You were quickly able to deduce what this was about, granted you use to ask Sawamura the same thing for months after your son was born. After having Seiji, your body wasn’t the same, most of the baby weight you were able to shed but some remained. You had stretch marks seemingly everywhere. That first year wasn’t the best for you but Daichi was there. Always reassuring you that you were beautiful both with and without your stretch marks. That gaining weight was normal after having a child and that a little more weight never hurt anyone.

You wanted to be the same pillar he was for you. 

“What do you mean? Of course, you look handsome,” You claimed looking at him, “do you think otherwise?” You asked raising an eyebrow. Daichi chuckled nervously, he knew how gung ho you were about body positivity and how you hated when others looked down on themselves. He knew he (especially) wasn’t exempt from that. “I… I don’t know, don’t I look.. bigger?” He questioned rubbing the back of his neck.

Turning your attention to the mirror, you knew what he was talking about. Daichi didn’t have the same body he had in high school or even the same body he had in his twenties, duh. Weight is a fickle thing that fluctuates any chance it gets. It also comes with age, you both were way past your twenties and well into your late thirties - early forties. It’s only natural that his body changed, you would be concerned if it hadn’t. You finished tying his tie and walked behind him. Sawamura looked at you as he watched you in the mirror. After wrapping your arms around his torso you spoke,

“Yeah but that’s okay”

“But it looks weird”

“I think it looks hot”

You smirked as Daichi’s cheeks flushed slightly. Good to know that after all these years you could still fluster him. However, his somber mood was quick to return. “Wouldn’t you prefer if I had my more fit body? Like how I was in high school? Or even when we reconnected?” Sawamura asked turning back to look at you. You decided to answer his question with a question, “Do you prefer how I looked before I had Seiji?” You inquired. Daichi’s eyebrow’s furrowed, “What? Of course not—” He started quickly taking your hands into his own.

“Did you like me better without the dozens of stretch marks? Without the baby weight?”

“Y/n, what are you talking about? No, you’re gorgeous just as you are. Before and after Seiji”

You hummed slightly, “Then why would I prefer high school you over current you? Hm?” You questioned crossing your arms over your chest. It took Daichi a second before he started laughing slightly. It didn’t take long before you joined him, “See what I did there?” You laughed. Your husband nodded, running his fingers through his hair, “Yes. I see what you did” He chuckled. You smiled slightly, glad to see him smiling. You pulled him down by the tie and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Daichi, I love you for you. I don’t care what you look like, although your looks did play a minor part” You teased pinching his cheek. Daichi just shook his head, “Thank you, love, I needed that,” He claimed pulling you into an embrace that you happily returned.

“Where did this come from anyway?”

“I guess from looking in the mirror too long and..”

“And?”

“It’s embarrassing”

“Hun, we’ve been together for five years and known each other for longer, try me”

Your husband sighed dejectedly and mutter something under his breath. You raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. “I said; Seiji called me a teddy bear the other day” He mumbled not looking in your direction. You couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s so cute! Aw, I’m going to call you teddy bear from now on” You stated a wide smile adorning your face. Daichi ran a hand over his face, attempting to hide his smile, “Please don’t” He pleaded. Before you could even answer, a loud knock interrupted.

“I don’t know what you guys are doing and I don’t want to know but it’s almost 19:00 (7:00)”

Daichi glanced at you, “Isn’t the reservation for 19:30 (7:30)?”. You sighed and closed your eyes in realization, “Yes. Yes it is” You confirmed. 

“Also, Ji will not put on his shoes for whatever reason”

Suzuki added. You were on the brink of melting down, Sawamura could see that. You worked so hard to get a reservation at a restaurant that was fully booked all year long just for his birthday. And the fact that your two-year-old won’t put on his shoes was pushing you dangerously close to the edge of a breakdown, was downright embarrassing. 

“…I could put on my sirens to get us there faster”

You looked at your husband, your eyes filled to the brink with love.

“I love you so fucking much”

taglist [open]: @mus1caln0tes @awh-bliss @i-am-trying-i-promise @tsukkisfatsimp @elianetsantana

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

[sleepy--anon]

It's My Job

Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more

Here's who I write for

In-ho is 35 and Jun-ho is 19 here

Most people would assume that siblings with a 16 year age gap wouldn't be that close but Jun-ho practically glued himself to his big brother and In-ho absolutely adored Jun-ho from birth. They obviously still had their fair share of sibling quarles but ultimately, the two were inseparable for the most part.

"You work too much!" Jun-ho whined loudly, half hanging off his brother's bed, In-ho rolled his eyes as he continued his paperwork. Jun-ho showed up randomly, wanting to see his brother.

"Considering you're only on your second year of academy I'd assume you'd appreciate the calm atmosphere of us just doing our own thing in peace Namdongsaeng." Jun-ho's eyes narrowed at how his brother didn't look at him while he spoke.

"I came to see my Hyung because I missed him, is it a crime to be upset that he's ignoring me?" Jun-ho turned to sit on his legs and give In-ho an exaggerated pout and the biggest puppy eyes he could muster. He felt a prideful flutter in his chest when In-ho looked at him and visibly melted.

"Nobody said it was, and I am not ignoring you, you just have a completely different view of attention than I do." In-ho got up from his desk, walking over to his little brother, gently cupping his face, smiling softly at Jun-ho's bright smile.

"Well I felt ignored Hyung, you should've known how I feel about your attention." In-ho's eye twitched at his tone, his hands slipping to Jun-ho's shoulders.

"You want attention Namdongsaeng? Fine, I'll give you some damn attention." He quickly shoved his bother back, jumping up to straddle his hips, pressing his wrists into the mattress as he watched Jun-ho process what had just happened.

"Are you comfortable Hyeongje~? Cause you're gonna be there for a while~" Just then did Jun-ho finally realize what was happening. In-ho's change in tone flipped a switch in Jun-ho's brain.

"Noooo come on! That's not what I meant when I said I wanted your attention and you know it!" He whimpered, trying to worm his way out of his scarily effective hold. When Jun-ho was 6 his brother had graduated from the same police academy he was currently in, which meant In-ho knew all the little tricks he didn't and boy did he use that to his advantage.

"Its no use Little One~ You might as well accept your fate~ You practically asked for this anyway~" Jun-ho grunted as he tried to overpower his brother, huffing at his smug face when he barely budged.

"I did not! Can't we just go get food? Or watch a movie? Both of those work as alternatives" Jun-ho felt the pressure of In-ho's knees on his wrists, pulling a long whine of protest from his throat.

"What whiny~? You wanted my attention right~? You now have my undivided attention~" In-ho smirked mischievously as he crawled his fingers from his hips up to his ribs. Chuckling at Jun-ho's strained grunts as he tried to fight the sensations.

"Oh come on Jun~ This isn't a battle, you can let loose~ or do you need a little help~?" In-ho's fingers pressing into a few of his higher ribs, smiling at the bright, childish laughter the began flowing from his brother.

"Nohohohoho! I dohohon't neheheed any hehehehelp! StohohoOHOP!" In-ho hummed as if considering his request.

"I don't know if I believe you~ You've been pouting quite a lot today~"

"I'm FIHIHIHINE! STOHOHOP dohohoing THAHAHAT!" Jun-ho's laughter pitching up and down based on In-ho's occasional flicks up into his underarms.

"Why~? Would you prefer I did this instead~?" In-ho's hands jumped to his brother's stomach pinching and squeezing all over, paying extra attention to the lower portion towards his hips.

"FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOFF!"

"Ooooo~ Jun-ho's using his big boy language now~" He could feel his bed shake from the drumming of Jun-ho's feet.

"LEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHOHOHO! HYUHUHUNG PLEHEHEHEASE!"

"Oh alright~" He skittered his fingers quickly across his little brother's neck before climbing off him.

"You're way too ticklish to be pulling that kind of shit Jun, you always have been" He teased, pinching his cheek and fixing the pillow under his head.

"Just say you like bullying me In-ho, we know that's the real reason you just nearly killed me"

"Don't be so dramatic Namdongsaeng, you're just a little out of breath, think of it like endurance training. You're welcome."

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

WTWT: The Sequel | Part 4/5 [Reggie Peters]

pairing: reggie peters x fem!reader

word count: 6.6k

warnings: angst, swearing

a/n: hey babes it’s drea :) hope you enjoy this part and get to meet mimi and my favorite ocs!!! make sure to like, comment, and reblog! also send in your memes because we adore them!

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

If Rose thought he was stupid then, he wondered how she would have thought of him now. Incredibly sleep deprived, clothes wrinkled, and a bouquet of flowers he most definitely sat on at one point in his hand. But none of that mattered now. He was finally here in Canada to see you, his most chaotic plan yet.

Penticton was not like Los Angeles in the slightest. Reggie felt as though he was out of place. This city was calm and small, in contrast to his loud and unpredictable life. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make the adjustment if he had to move here, but he knew he’d do anything for you.

With a shaky hand, Reggie knocked on the door. The door slowly opened to reveal an older couple, one that Reggie barely recognized. Reggie was about to apologize and leave until the woman spoke up.

“Aren’t you that horse boy?” the woman asked, narrowing her eyes. “The one that (N/N) was friends with, right? From Idaho?”

Reggie’s cheeks were flushed red. “Um, Wyoming, ma’am,” he corrected politely.

The woman seemed impressed. “Manners and flowers,” she mused. “Turns out they did teach you a thing or two on that ranch of yours. Come in, I made scones.” Without letting Reggie speak, she took the flowers and shoved them into her husband’s hands. “Earl, put that in water, the poor flowers look parched.”

“Um ma’am I’m not too sure this is a good-,”

“Nonsense, you must have come all the way from California,” she waved him off, “We need to get you fed and rested up don’t we?”

Her husband nodded while finding a vase to put the flowers in. “Best take a seat, son,” he whispered. “Tamara gets a little pushy, so there’s no point in fighting her.”

Sighing, Reggie took a seat on the couch as Earl walked off to the closet.

“I’ll be right back honey,” Tamara insisted, just have to go grab something from the kitchen.

Reggie nodded and sat quietly, waiting for her to return, and when she did she was accompanied by a large plate of what Reggie had assumed to be scones. You were obsessed with them, the cafe you worked at had even started selling them at your request.

“You must be hungry from that flight, right?” she asked, removing her oven mitts. “Have some of these, they’re (N/N)’s favorite, can’t get enough of them.” Without asking for permission, she took a scone and --for lack of better word-- shoved it into Reggie’s mouth. “Taste good, honey?”

They were delicious. Only issue was that they were fresh from the oven.

“T-they’re h-ho-” Reggie tried to tell the woman.

Only Tamara didn’t listen. Instead, she took another scone, prepared to feed Reggie once again. “You’re like a stick, honey,” she scolded with a shake of her head. “I told Eloise about those weird fads in California. Stubborn girl doesn’t want to listen.” Reggie nodded, finally swallowing the scone. Not the smartest choice. “Oh, you’re finished? Have another.”

“No thank-” Reggie was cut off by the pastry filling his mouth.

Tamara tutted, seemingly not noticing the boy’s discomfort. “You know, I remember you from when you were little,” she continued to talk. “Very skinny. But short. You grew quite a bit from last time we visited, right, Earl?”

Earl came back, flowers now in a purple vase. He nodded wordlessly before turning to look at Reggie, his cheeks red and puffed out. Earl’s face showed no surprise. That was his wife, after all.

“Oh, Earl, not that vase,” Tamara sighed, giving Reggie a sneak attack by feeding him another scone. The poor boy let out a muffled groan, but didn’t say anything else. “Get the white one, it matches the flowers’ colors much better.”

“Yes dear,” Earl said, going back to the closet in the back of the house. Reggie slouched back on the couch, hopeless and in desperate need for some water. He came to Canada for you, not to be subjected to some sick twisted grandmotherly world war two-esque torture.

Tamara looked down at Reggie. “You must really like these scones, dear,” she said, visibly impressed. “Have another, there’s plenty to go around. Now I see why (N/N) likes you. You two must really love my cooking, hm? Remind me to give you the recipe for when you go back home. That is, if you want to go home.”

Earl mouthed an apology as he came back with the new vase and Reggie just looked at the old man and questioned whether this was going to be him in fifty years.

Reggie tried to say something but only crumbs flew out of his mouth, stuffed like a chipmunk.

“Hey Nana is someone out here I thought I-Flicka?!”

Reggie turned over to you, eyes wide, face full with scones and he gave you a pained smile.

“Hi Foofie,” he attempted to say with his mouth full.

Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, looks aren’t everything,” she sighed. “Come on, boy, swallow before you speak. This is your future bride for crying out loud.”

“Nana,” you whined before rushing over to Reggie, taking a cloth napkin and wiping his face. “You look absolutely ridiculous, Flicka.”

“You lofe me,” he shot back, mouth still filled with scones.

You hummed in response. “Sometimes,” you teased. Tears began to well in your eyes. “I can’t believe you flew all the way here, and suffered Nana’s scone feeding for me.”

Eloise and Mateo walked into the room next looking at the sight before them with great confusion.

“Mom not again!” Eloise complained while her husband just let out a small chuckle, remembering the similar way he was greeted when he was getting to know Eloise. “I’m so sorry Reggie honey, but it’s really great to see you,” the middle aged woman smiled and leaned down, giving Reggie a big hug. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Reggie said, finally able to answer properly.

Mateo was next, helping Reggie out of his seat and welcoming him with the same kindness.

“Good to see you son,”

“You too, sir,” he nodded.

Mateo ruffled the boy’s hair before Reggie was pulled in some other direction and out the door of the house.

You sat Reggie down on the porch swing overlooking the rest of the city from where the house stood on the mountain. He could see how the mountains dipped into a valley, surrounded by bushes and trees that faded in the distance, pooling into the crystal blue lake, of which he could see more than one.

His driver had told him the large one was the Okanagan lake, and it spanned multiple cities, the middle point being the city he flew into, Kelowna, the other smaller lake that was more popular with locals was called Skaha.

“You know,” you hummed as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “This is by far the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with.” Reggie snorted, shaking his head silently. “But I’m glad you went through with it.”

“Me too, I was going to leave a few days after you left, but Rose made me pick up some shifts at her parents store so I could pay for the ticket,”

You laughed softly, taking his hand and weaving it together. “Seems like Rose,” you mused. “How are all of them? I miss them a lot, you know.”

“Yeah, we all know,” Reggie nodded. “Can I just say your grandma is a lot more intense than when we were younger. I legitimately thought she was trying to suffocate me with food,”

“Yeah, Nana does that with all the boyfriends, dad got the same treatment back in the 70s,”

“I hope I passed her test, then,” Reggie chuckled.

“You definitely did, she shoved like five scones in your mouth, I think that’s a record,”

“Pays to have the stomach of a cow,”

“Cows have six stomachs Flicka,”

“Exactly,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “And look at this, no universe, just me in charge, huh?”

“Or, is that what the universe wants you to think?”

“You know I thought you believed in God,” he fired back and you laughed.

“Same idea Flicka, just deal with it, higher power’s got your back,”

Just when Reggie opened his mouth, the door creaked open, revealing Eloise’s head poking out. “As sweet as this little reunion is,” she began sympathetically. “I think you two should get inside, now. You know, the mosquitoes are the one thing that don’t follow the ‘nice Canadian’ stereotype.”

You sighed, nodding. “Come on, Flicka. Sunburns are one thing but I’m not going to help you if you get a mosquito bite.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, mosquitoes suck,” he said grabbing your arm and pulling you up and into the house.

As soon as you entered the room, Tamara smiled, exiting the kitchen. “There you two are,” she said. “Would you like another sco-”

“No!” both you and Reggie exclaimed in unison.

Reggie’s face turned red. “I uh mean, no ma’am,” he corrected sheepishly. “I’m full, but thank you. They’re really good, though.” Tamara, seemingly pleased with his response, nodded.

“Don’t forget, separate rooms you two,” Eloise warned.

Tamara looked at her daughter with a frown, “You act like you did sneak Mateo in here when you were teenagers. Plus he likes my scones! He’s family!”

“Yeah mom, listen to Nana I’m 22, you can relax,” you sighed.

“I promise no shenanigans,” Reggie added, “Swear it on Tamara’s scones,”

Tamara walked over to her daughter, patting her back. “Let the kids let loose,” she told her. “They’ll be fine together.”

You grinned, kissing your grandmother’s cheek gratefully. “Thank you, Nana.”

“Don’t thank me just yet, honey,” she stopped you. “I still want you to keep your door open. I approve of him, but I’m not ready to be a great grandmother just yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not ready to be a dad yet either,” Reggie chuckled. “One step at a time right?”

“We’ll see about that,” you chuckled mischievously earning you a scold from your father.

“Don’t tease the poor boy you’re just like your mother,”

Your mother rolled her eyes, elbowing him not so subtly. “Well, get to bed, the two of you,” she told you both. “I’m sure you have a bunch of things to show him tomorrow, so best get to bed now so you can have an early start,”

“Of course mom, love you guys,” you said, waving to your family and giving your grandfather who had been silent a kiss on the cheek.

Reggie was taken into Mateo's arms for a hug which he received warmly, your parents were like his second parents, they helped raise him, so it was only fair he looked at them that way.

Eloise was next, but along with a hug she whispered in his ear,

“I swear to sweet baby Jesus, Reginald, no funny business,”

“You have my word mama,” he chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek before following you out of the living room and up the small set of stairs that brought you to the rooms.

Your bedroom was small, and resembled that of a child’s. It was a bright pink with stars adorning the walls. Your twin sized bed was in the middle, pressed to the back of the wall. Reggie assumed that not much had changed in your room since you hadn’t been here for years.

“Nice room, Cookie,” he complimented as he set his bag down. “Very um, Disney princess chic.”

You shot him a look before throwing a pink throw pillow in his direction. “Shut up,” you shot back. “My grandparents haven’t really changed up the place. Hell, they still think I’m their baby granddaughter that wears princess dresses all the time.”

Reggie approached you, placing his hands on your waist. “Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a pink princess dress,” he teased. “You’d look adorable.”

“As long as you wear the animal sidekick suit. You’d look adorable,” you mocked.

“Okay, I don’t mean to be a downer, but I’m exhausted, somehow my flight had a connection in Colorado then Alberta, so I’ve been awake for hours,”

“The washroom is through that door, you can get changed and then come and rest on the Aurora bedspread,”

“Looking forward to it Cookie,”

As instructed, Reggie made his way to the washroom and got ready while you did the same in your room, turning off the lights and leaving the door open. When you climbed into the bed, Reggie had just opened the door to the washroom, he was wearing flannel pants and a very large Sunset Curve shirt.

“Did they run out of your size, Flicka?” you teased, in your pajamas, a pair of old shorts and Alex’s sweatshirt you had stolen prior. Not that Alex ever noticed you took it, though. The drummer had a lifetime supply.

Reggie scoffed playfully. “I’ll have you know, this is just my size,” he told you. “Size beautiful, duh.”

You held your arms out to him in a welcoming hold and he didn’t hesitate to fall into them, resting his head against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, how is everyone?” you asked with a quiet yawn.

“Well, that’s the million dollar question isn’t it,” he laughed. “Bobby drank Rose and Ray’s place dry when you left, Luke didn’t eat anything but Twinkies for three days and wouldn’t leave your old apartment, Alex stayed with him but he was just as bad and Rose and Ray just took time off from everything to take care of everyone.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“But,” Reggie continued. “They’re better now, they convinced me to come back up here. I think they want to come and visit at some point,”

“I’d like that a lot,” you smiled softly. “To see them all again. Maybe I’ll come back down for the wedding.”

Reggie chuckled, his fingers running through your hair. “There’s no “maybe,” Cookie. You’re going to be there, even if Rose has to drag you while in a white dress and veil. You’re her maid of honour.”

“About that,” you said, squinting your eyes. “Do you think they’re actually getting married? Like Rose didn’t say she told her parents or anything it was all very weird.”

“Oh, no, they’re definitely lying,” Reggie laughed. “But it’s fun to play along, see how long it takes for them to break or you know, break us.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Those two are crazy,” she sighed. “Definitely Rose’s idea, though.”

Reggie nodded, his eyelids slowly closing. “Yeah,” he hummed. “I always thought we’d be the first ones to get married in the group, anyway.”

You chuckled lightly and nodded, “With our track record? Really Flicka? I was expecting at least one of us to get married and divorced first, probably me to be perfectly honest and you would have gone on some self actualization trip to Borneo and then we would have found each other again and gotten married,”

“Borneo does sound nice,” he mused and laughed. “We were never one for a normal relationship.”

You agreed. “Normal’s too boring,” you said. “Where’s the drama in a normal relationship?”

“When you put it that way it makes it seem unhealthy,” Reggie poked you and you squirmed under his touch.

“It’s not unhealthy it’s just… just… spicy! That’s it, our relationship is spicy,”

“So were those dances Mrs. Leona taught us,”

“Oh Tamika! She’s such a sweetheart, I went through part of my practicum with her,”

“You’re on a first name basis with her?” Reggie asked, surprised.

“Well, I am almost a teacher now so yeah,” you nodded. “Still wouldn’t let go the whole deal with us having unparalleled chemistry,”

“Why am I not surprised,” Reggie yawned loudly.

You tilted your head upwards to see Reggie, barely staying awake. “Okay, we definitely should go to bed now,” you told him. “You look beyond exhausted.”

“I feel beyond exhausted.”

Laughing softly, you snuggled yourself closer into Reggie’s chest, his arms finding their place around your waist. “Goodnight, Flicka,” you whispered. “I’m glad the universe brought us back together.”

Reggie hummed in response. “I’m glad, too. I love you, Cookie.”

—

You woke up the next morning to the loud sound of banging. Sitting up abruptly, you turned to see the other side of your bed empty. You frowned to yourself. Were you just dreaming? Did Reggie not actually come to Canada?

“YOU HORSE BOY, I TOLD YOU TO ADD SUGAR! WHAT IN YOUR RIGHT MIND MADE YOU THINK ADDING SALT TO PANCAKES WAS A SMART DECISION?” you heard your grandmother yell.

You let out a sigh of relief. Reggie was here.

“I’m sorry!” you heard him yelp. “They look similar, so I-”

“Oh, these Brandanowitz women, worst taste in men, I tell you,” she grumbled loudly. “None of them can choose a man who knows how to cook!”

Rushing down the stairs, you poked your head around the corner to see your grandmother, father, and Reggie trying to cook. Your father seemed to have taken a major offense to your nana’s comment.

“Tamara, I’ve gotten much better, plus I did teach you how to make arepas,”

Your grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get smart with me, boy,” she snapped, snatching the pan from your father’s hands. “I still remember the cake incident back in ‘84.” Your father blushed sheepishly before stepping back to let Nana take the lead in cooking.

“Mom before you start attacking my husband you do know that dad can’t cook right? I’d say that proves you have equally bad taste in men,” your mother countered.

“Mhmm,” Earl nodded, not looking up from his newspaper and sipping his coffee. “Very bad taste ‘Mara,”

Tamara shook her head, swatting Reggie’s hand as he tried to taste the batter. “Oh, I know,” she said back. “I just hoped that after five generations of our family choosing terrible cooks, we’d get some change.”

“Reggie’s got some other talents,” Mateo came to the boy’s defence. “An amazing musician, Eloise and I went to a few of his band’s concerts,”

Tamara gave the boy a dead state. “Fiddling with banjos and drums won’t feed you, unless you plan on eating strings,” she deadpanned.

“Actually ma’am my band and I just landed a huge gig at one of the most popular theaters in LA. Our tickets sold out,”

“Are the drumsticks made of bread?” she asked.

Reggie furrowed his eyebrows. “No?”

“Are the bass strings made of spinach?”

“No, ma’am.”

Tamara made a sour face, taking the batter from the table. “Then not my problem,” she said before continuing to make the pancakes.

“Mom,” Eloise groaned, smacking her forehead. “Reggie honey just ignore her, she’s too old fashioned for her own good. We,” she said motioning to herself and Mateo. “Love you and that’s all that matters,”

“I don’t think he’s that bad either,” Earl mused from the table.

“Oh sure,” Tamara murmured to herself. “I’m too old fashioned until you come running back to me for my scones recipe.” She looked up from her bowl of pancake mix to glare at her husband. “Earl, next time you ask for coffee, you’re getting dirt and worms, you hear me?”

The older man only smiled at his wife. “Yes, dear.”

“Good morning,” you said, finally coming into the kitchen.

You went around, giving the routine kisses, saving Reggie for last and pressing a quick peck to his lips.

“Sleep well Flicka?”

“Like a log,” he nodded. “I-I was trying to help your grandma make breakfast but she seems to think I’m a bad cook,”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you grinned. “She labels to the sugar salt and the salt sugar just to get people, you’re a fine cook Flicka,”

“Tamara!” Mateo explained, completely betrayed and flabbergasted.

The woman shrugged her shoulders, flipping a pancake on the stove. “Serves you right for thinking I’m old fashioned. I can have fun, too.”

“I-” Mateo stammered before looking at his wife in disbelief. “Eloise!”

Eloise smirked as she approached you with a cup of coffee. “You’ll need it if you’re going to tour around town today,” she told you.

“I’m gonna need it if dad is gonna try and find a way to prove he's a good cook, I can see the gears turning,”

“You know I can cook (N/N)! I always made dinner at home,” he insisted. “Now what do you like more, my empanadas or tira de asado?”

“Ohh the tira,” you and Reggie both nodded, having tasted the delicious steak already.

Tamara turned around with a plate of pancakes, setting it on the table. “But is his cooking better than mine?” she asked, giving you a serious look.

“Well that depends,” you said, you were always honest with your grandmother, no matter what other people had said, “See Papa can beat you without a doubt on the South American dishes, but when it comes to North American comfort foods you’re the queen,”

“At least you raised her right,” Tamara grinned, pinching her granddaughter’s cheek.

The rest of breakfast went by smoothly, with Tamara only threatening to make Mateo sleep on the roof once, a new record. Regardless of the constant threats Mateo loved his mother in-law, that was a fact.

You ran back up to your bedroom to get dressed for the day, while Reggie was held back by your dad, more likely than not to help clean up the mess that they made in the kitchen with Tamara.

But downstairs, Reggie was sat down by Mateo and Earl, serious expressions on their face. Eloise and Tamara were nowhere to be found, but Reggie wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“What’s up?” Reggie asked to break the silence, despite the erratic beating of his heart. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”

“No, son,” Earl reassured him, sitting down across from him. Mateo sat beside him, patting Reggie’s hand reassuringly.

“We just wanted to have a chat,” Mateo said and Reggie raised his brows, looking over at the two men.

“Am I right to think this has something to do with (N/N)?” Reggie asked and the men nodded.

“You’d be right, sonny,” Earl smiled. “I don’t think we’ve ever asked you how your flight was?”

Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t horrible,” he answered. “But honestly, all that really mattered was that I’d find my way back to Cookie.”

Mateo couldn’t help, but smile, reminiscing the days when he was falling in love with his now wife. “Cookie,” he repeated. “You and (N/N) have the silliest names for each other. I don’t remember why you call each other that.”

“It’s a long story,” Reggie laughed. “I’m pretty sure Flicka’s a horse from Wyoming and well she always did like cookies didn’t she,”

The men laughed and agreed with him. “That girl eats far too many desserts for her own good,” Earl shook his head. “You better keep your pastry stock full at all times once you’re married to her, you hear me? She’s just like Tamara, can never get enough of sweets.”

Instantly, the edges of Reggie’s lips turned up into a smile. “I guess I’ll be needing that scone recipe too,” he joked lightly.

Suddenly, the room went silent. Reggie stared down at the bracelets on his wrists, playing with the loose strings. You had made them for him when you were kids, and he swore to never take them off. And there he was, seventeen years later, upholding that promise.

“Um, sirs,” he began, immediately cringing at the titles. “I-I… you know how much I love your daughter and granddaughter,”

“More than you love Tamara’s scones?” Earl cut in with a teasing wink.

“Oh yes, much more,” Reggie laughed nervously. “More than anything in my life, to be honest. And actually,” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box and showing Mateo and Earl. “I-I really want to ask her to be my wife. I just thought maybe I could ask for your blessings first.”

Earl and Mateo fell silent once more, making Reggie stammer sheepishly. “I promise you, I’ll keep my pastry stock filled and everything,” he rushed. “I’ll buy the entire company of cookies if it meant she’d be happy. Hell I’m prepared to move here, I’d do anything for her,”

Reggie pulled out the ring from the box, fiddling with it anxiously. “I’m ready to even give up music, if I have to. Because she’s worth everything to me. I’ll take up a job here, a-and I’ll learn how to cook, too. Cookies, scones, tira de asado, whatever she wants to make her happy. I know I don’t have much, e-even my family is falling apart, but I promise I’ll make her my first and only priority, sir and...sir.”

Earl glanced over at Mateo. “If you don’t approve of this young man, I’ll marry him myself,” he said with a grin.

“Reggie, Eloise and I always had a hunch that you’d be the one for (N/N),” Mateo explained. “You’ve been like a son to us and we watched you grow up into such a fine young man, I don’t think there’s anyone more perfect to be my daughter’s partner for the rest of her life,”

Reggie nearly dropped his ring. “Wait, really?” he stumbled over his words. “Like...you’re allowing me to propose? Like marry her and-and everything?”

Mateo nodded. “So long as she says yes,” he told him.

“Which she will,” Earl chuckled. “Welcome to the family son,”

Without thinking, Reggie stood up and leaned over and wrapped his arms tightly around them. “T-thank you, sirs!”

Mateo and Earl laughed heartily. “I think Dad and Grandpa will do,” Mateo insisted, patting Reggie’s back. “Now, I think you have a girl to propose to, right?”

As if on cue, you made it to the bottom of the stairs, ready to go. “Ready, Flicka?” you beamed.

Reggie quickly tucked the ring box back into his pocket. “Always, Cookie,” he responded.

Tamara entered the dining room, wearing a large floppy hat and sunglasses. “Yes, we are,” she announced. “Where to?”

Your cheeks were flushed red. “Oh, Nana, we were-”

“I’ve got the keys,” Eloise grinned. “We can drive to Kelowna for the day!”

“I can drive,” Mateo nodded, taking the keys from his wife and sending a wink to Reggie.

A good ten minutes later the whole household was packed into a car, heading out of the small town for the hour drive up to Kelowna, the largest town along the Okanagan lake.

“Oh mom can we go to Moo Lix? I love their ice cream,” you asked your mother, leaning up from the back seat.

“I’m sure we can stop there,” Eloise nodded. “We can walk through the city park and grab something to eat by the beach,”

The drive wasn’t too long, only around an hour and when they crossed the bridge to enter the city Reggie could sense your excitement, finally being able to show you around some of the places you grew up in.

“Excited, Cookie?” he asked with a teasing grin on his face.

You turned your head from the window, beaming at Reggie. “Beyond excited,” you replied, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly. “Maybe later on, you can show me around Wyoming?”

Reggie threw his head back in laughter. “I’d love to show you the ranch,” he told you.

“Good cause I’m not entirely convinced it exists,”

“Oh not with this again,” Reggie groaned and banged his head on the seats in front of you.

Mateo finally parked the car along the front of the large city park, spanning the length of the beach and lake. You were ready to drag Reggie out of the car and try to take him to some of the places you wanted him to see, but you were interrupted by your grandmother insisting you all went in the opposite direction.

“Reggie, I have to show you Ogopogo,” you told Reggie, pulling on his arm. “I need to tell you the story about it, it’s awesome! It’s this monster that’s said to inhabit the lake, you’d love it!”

Reggie chuckled as he tried to catch up with you, running down the sidewalk. “I guess there’s another monster I need to befriend in the lake,” he joked, remembering the lake back in California.

Tamara shook her head at the two, readjusting her straw hat. “Oh, no one wants to see that pile of rubble,” she told you both. “Come on, there are far better things to see.”

“But Nana,” you whined. “I wanna show him-,”

“Come on dear,” she interrupted you and you sighed.

“We’ll come another time Flicka,” you said, wrapping your arm around his and intertwining your fingers together.

“Of course Cookie, I’m yours, for whatever or whenever,”

Your grandma dragged the group of you through the park, explaining the history of certain statues and whatnots. You were paying attention, but Reggie’s focus was on you the entire time, his hand nervously fiddling with the ring in his pocket, waiting for the right time, any time to pull it out. But every time he tried to take a moment to be alone with you, either Tamara would pull you two to another site or Reggie would get too nervous.

Finally, when Reggie got a moment alone with you, it was absolutely perfect. The sun was nearly setting, and your parents had managed to drag your grandparents to the bench to rest for a moment, but Lord knows Tamara can’t sit still for long.

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it, Flicka?” you asked, looking out in the distance. You turned to face Reggie, a mischievous grin on your face. “Maybe if you go for a quick swim, you’ll see Ogopogo.”

Reggie chuckled. “Maybe.”

The two of you turned back to the scenery, taking in the small moment of silence you were finally given.

Do it. Get on one knee and do it.

“Cookie?” Reggie spoke up. You hummed in response, not tearing your eyes away from the sunset. “You talked about the universe bringing us together, no matter how many times we’ve been pulled apart.”

You laughed softly. “Higher powers always have your back, Flicka,” you said, recalling what you told him last night.

Reggie placed his hand in his pocket, about to pull out his ring and propose to you. “Well, I-”

“(N/N)! Horse Boy!”

Reggie sighed, slouching slightly. Dropping the ring box back into his pocket, he turned around to see Tamara marching over to them. Earl was close behind, mouthing an apology.

“It’s getting late,” she frowned. “We have to get going now if you want to get scones for dessert.”

You smiled giddily, kissing Reggie’s cheek before following your grandmother.

The ride on the way back was spent the majority of the time in silence, just resting. You laid your head on Reggie’s shoulder as he stared out the window, frustrated with himself for not proposing today. There were countless amounts of times where he could have asked you, but there was always something holding him back.

Once you got back to the house, you dragged yourself up the porch steps saying you were gonna go take a power nap before dinner and dessert were ready. Reggie couldn’t help, but look fondly at you while you walked up the stairs, yawning loudly. Even when you were tired you were perfect to him.

Reggie couldn’t stop replaying the day in his head. All the missed moments were taunting him. He needed help, but from who? Suddenly, it was as though something clicked in his head.

Reggie entered the home, finding your mother in the dining room with her father. “Hey, um Eloise is there a phone I could use? I’ll pay for the long distance charges,”

“Yeah of course, there's one in the studio room downstairs,”

“Thanks,” Reggie smiled and jogged down to the phone. After taking it in his hands he took a deep breath. This had to be it, what was holding him back.

Dialling the number and hitting call there was no turning back.

The phone rang for a few moment and just as he thought no one was going to pick up the phone line clicked and there was a quiet,

“Hello?” on the other end.

“Hey dad,” Reggie said quietly chewing on his lip. “C-Can you get mom I want to talk to you both about something,”

A long pause followed. “Um, sure,” he responded. “Is everything alright, Reggie?”

“Yeah,” Reggied sighed. He pulled the ring box out of his pocket. Flipping open the top, he stared down at the small jewel resting on top of the ring. “Everything’s fine.”

There was a quite shuffle on the other line along with some hushed chatter before the phone clicked again,

“Okay Reg, you’re on speaker,” he heard his father’s voice once more.

It had been almost three months since he had last seen or spoken to either of his parents aside from getting the confirmation that they were going through with the divorce.

“Um… well,” Reggie didn’t really know where to start, so that’s what he said. “Everything’s a little all over the place I’m not really sure where to start,”

“Take your time sweetheart,” Diana’s soft voice came through. “Your dad and I have time,”

Reggie took another deep breath, “A-A little while back (Y/N)’s parents… they-they lost the house,” Reggie started to explain. “The job market just wasn’t working for them in LA so they needed to move back to Canada. They’re staying with Eloise’s parents for now until they can find work and get settled.”

“Oh wow,” Darcy whispered on the other end, “W-We didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear that,”

“Yeah me too,” Reggie nodded. “A-Anyways, (Y/N) had to come up with them. To stay and I… I just-I couldn’t lose her again so...”

“Reggie,” Diana spoke up. “Are you in Canada right now?”

“Yes?” he answered, more so like a question.

Murmuring followed from Diana and Darcy’s end. “Okay, we’re not mad you went to another country without telling us,” Darcy began. “But a heads up would have been nice.”

“I-I got a job and everything to pay for the ticket. I’m not in debt or anything,” he assured. “But yeah, I guess maybe I should have said something, but you can understand why I was hesitant to call,”

“Sweetheart,” Diana said. “We’re happy you went to follow the girl you loved. So long as you’re safe.”

“We’re sorry for not being the best parents to you,” Darcy added. “But we want to be here for you now. Is there anything we can do to help you with whatever’s troubling you?”

Reggie remained silent, fiddling with the phone wire. “Dad, how did you know you were ready to propose to Mom?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“I-I’m sorry?” Darcy said back. “Son, you’re going to have to speak up, I didn’t catch that.”

Reggie took yet another deep breath. “How did you know you were ready to propose? Like...what feeling did you get? Because I know deep down I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with (Y/N), but something’s stopping me and I don’t know what.”

There was silence on the other line and Reggie cursed in his head, this wasn’t a good idea he shouldn’t have-

“I-um… I don’t really know how to describe it…” Darcy started softly. “It was almost like… like pain, in my heart. When I wasn’t with her I-I just couldn’t function. Your mom she was… she was my everything.”

Reggie could hear his dad faltering on his words, but before he could get any further he could hear his mother’s soft voice reassuring him,

“It’s okay… we just… we weren’t cut out to be married. I-... Reggie I hope you know your father and I still love each other very much. It’s just sometimes life throws you one too many curveballs. D-Do you think you would be able to get past that with (Y/N) if it were to come to it?”

“I would do anything for her,” he whispered.

“Then I think you got your answer, Reg,” Darcy told him, no doubt smiling. “Reggie, I know we haven’t said it much, but I just want you to know that we are so proud of you for growing up to be such a brilliant young man, despite all the things life has thrown at you, what we have done to you.”

Reggie sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. “You haven’t done anything, Dad,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “Life got in the way, you know? I can’t blame you two for that.”

Eloise poked her head around the corner. “Reggie, dear,” she called out. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want me to save a plate for you if you’re still on that call?”

Reggie shook his head. “No, erm I’m okay, Eloise,” he reassured her. “I’ll be up in a minute.” Eloise smiled before going back upstairs.

Turning back to the phone, Reggie sighed. “I should probably go now,” he told his parents. “But thank you for the advice. It um, means a lot.”

“Of course, Reggie,” Diana said into the phone. “We’ll always be here for you.”

Reggie nodded, gripping the phone tight. “I...I love you,” he whispered, trying to fight back the tears from falling down his face. For once things felt normal. They felt like a family.

“We love you, too, Reggie,” Darcy told him. “Remember to tell us everything, okay? How it goes, if the wedding will be in Canada…”

Reggie laughed. “I will, Dad.”

“A-And, I know you probably have a ring already,” his mother started. “But the one your father gave me is passed down in the family. I-If you want I think we’d like to give it to you.”

“I-I’d love that,” he nodded, “We can save it for the big day… if there is one,”

“I have a strong feeling there will be,” Darcy said, a smile in his voice. “Trust me on that,”

“Well, we don’t want to keep you from dinner, sweetie,” Diana told him. “Tell (Y/N) we said hi, okay?”

After saying their goodbyes, Reggie set the phone down and smiled to himself. For once in his life, everything felt right.

Reggie, not wanting to make them wait any longer, stood up from his seat to join your family for dinner. There, Earl was pouring lemonade in each glass while Eloise set up the table.

Tamara was the next to enter the kitchen with a tray of roast chicken. “There you are,” she spoke up, looking directly at Reggie. “We were wondering where you were. Afraid you’d run off and make friends with the mosquitoes.”

“Tamara’s warming up to you a little more,” Mateo teased. “She’s worries for you. That didn’t happen for me until after (Y/N) was born.”

Tamara rolled her eyes, pointing a carving knife at him. “I’ll have you know,” she began with a pointed look. “I like this boy a whole lot more than I did when I first met you. This one finishes my scones and calls me “ma’am.” You should take some notes.”

Reggie laughed, taking a seat beside you. “Well, ma’am,” he smiled. “I hope you’ll get to see me more often.”

Eloise and Mateo grinned, a knowing twinkle in their eyes as Reggie spoke. You glanced over at Reggie, quite confused. “What?” you asked.

The bassist only shook his head. “Nothing,” he told you softly. Still exhausted from the day, you simply nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

“I’m tired,” you whined in a hushed voice for only Reggie to hear.

Reggie tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Eat quickly, then you can head to bed, okay, Cookie?” You groaned, but listened to him.

“Wow, Reggie,” Eloise mused, impressed. “She actually listens to you when she’s tired. (N/N) never does that.”

Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a gift,” he joked.

With a mouth full of chicken and rice, you agreed. “He’s the special one,” you teased.

Reggie grinned, subconsciously patting the ring box in his pocket.

Yeah, he sure hoped he was.

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