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datleggy · 3 years

Note

i’m not sure if this is a good prompt but i’d love to see something based off of jealous eddie in the new episode. established relationship with buck reassuring him about how he and taylor are just good friends. maybe getting together with a first kiss. i love all your work, but don’t feel like you need to write this if it doesn’t spark anything. thank you!

so i haven’t had a chance to watch the new episode yet, but i’ve seen gifs of jealous!eddie and it’s given me life lmao so here we go

Taylor is at the station...again. And that’s fine. Totally fine, Eddie tells himself over and over in his head, as he watches Buck moon over the reporter.

A week ago Eddie was content with his life and everyone’s place in it. Or so he thought, until he realized exactly why he was so bothered by Taylors presence at the station. All thanks to Chimney and his extraordinarily large mouth.

Eddie huffs, annoyed just thinking about it. He’d been in the locker room after a long shift, and Buck had run in and changed faster than lightning, barely taking the time to tie his shoelaces. Eddie had asked if he wanted to come over and grab a beer, maybe play some video games with him and Christopher, but Buck had politely declined. “Sorry man, I’ve got plans with Taylor, she’s waiting outside for me. I’ll see you guys Monday! Bye!” He’d waved and sped out of the station before Eddie could so much as think of an appropriate response.

Chim had laughed and said something that had most definitely struck a nerve, whether he’d intended it to or not. “Hey, cheer up, there’s other fish in the sea.”

And Eddie had thought in that instance: But I don’t want anyone else.

The very next day he’d broken things off with Ana. She’d been more confused than anything, initially, wondering if maybe she’d done something wrong, which had prompted Eddie to spill his guts to her about these decidedly romantic feelings he’s been harboring for his best friend.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize, not until last night, or I wouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just--” He’d tried to explain, tongue tied and at a loss. Ana was perfect, after all. Intelligent, a self possessed woman with ambition, good humor; she got along just swell with Christopher, and she was gorgeous to boot. But...

“Hey,” Ana had taken one of his hands into her own and squeezed gently, comfortingly. “So...this sucks. Because I really do like you Edmundo. A lot. But I am glad you were able to sort your feelings out. I know--especially growing up in a Hispanic household--how difficult it can be to come to that kind of conclusion. Have you...told him, yet?”

Eddie had shaken his head no, “Um, actually? You’re the first person I’ve told.”

That had come as a huge surprise to Ana, who, though heartbroken, had still offered a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, in the future.

Now, a week later, Eddie still hasn’t said a single word of this to anyone else. Not to Hen or Chim, not to his Captain--though sometimes the way Bobby looks over at him makes Eddie think the man knows something--and most definitely not to Buck himself.

Instead, he departs from the crew, shoulders stiff, irritation spiking, and makes his way to the bunks. Which is where Buck finds him a few minutes later, sulking.

“You ok?”

Eddie’s head swivels towards the entrance and he can’t help but frown at the tall figure standing there. It’s all Bucks fault, with the way his hair goes poofy with strawberry curls when it’s humid outside and those dumb contagious too-wide smiles of his and that look on his face when he gets hyped whenever he gets a chance to share any of the million factoids he’s learned--all of it makes Eddie want to rush up to him and kiss his stupid face.

“Eddie?” And suddenly said face is right in front of his, just inches away, and Buck is waving a concerned hand in front of him. “Earth to Eddie, you alright?”

Eddie blinks and quickly backs away, nearly falling off the other side of the bed, if not for the fact that Buck springs into action, one long arm going around Eddie’s back and holding him upright.

Now they’re impossibly close and Buck is staring at him all wide eyed and breathing kind of funny and Eddie is swaying forward ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact. He’s not sure what it is he’s doing, except that his hand is now caressing the side of Buck’s face and Buck is leaning into it and Eddie's tilting his head to the side and then their lips are meeting at the middle and Eddie can only describe the feeling as sparks of electricity bursting in his chest.

It's only when they finally pull away that reality comes crashing back down around Eddie and white hot panic sets in. "Shit! Shit, I'm sorry. I--that wasn't supposed to--I mean--" he covers his face with the hand that had been cradling Buck's cheek not five seconds ago and it's warm and butterflies flutter around in his belly.

Buck sits back on the bunk and clears his throat, "Um, I thought you and Ana were..."

Eddie looks up instantly, "No, no, we broke it off last week. Or, I guess I did..."

Buck nods. "Oh."

Eddie slides his sweaty palms across his pants and looks away, nervous. "I didn't mean to kiss you." Not when he knows Buck is dating Taylor. Not when she's literally in the other fucking room. Jesus Christ what is he even doing?

If Eddie were looking he would see the hurt that flashes across Buck's face for a split second before he's able to school his expression. "Right. Yeah." He lets out a faint impression of his usually boisterous laughter. "Who wants to be a rebound, right?" And then he's up and gone.

There's a tension hanging in the air between Buck and Eddie after the incident and no matter how badly Eddie tries to pretend it's not there it lingers.

It's Friday night when Eddie rallies and asks Buck out for a beer. Christopher is at his aunt's for the night and it's been a while since the last time they hung out together, just the two of them, so he figures it’s worth a shot.

He’s in the middle of asking Buck to go to a bar with him when who but none other than Taylor pops out from behind Buck, making the two of them jump. She tilts her head back and laughs at their expressions of surprise and Eddie wants to gag at how impeccably pretty she is with all that long red hair and those pumps on her feet that make her legs look like they go for miles.

“I got bored of waiting for you in the lot, c’mon, happy hour’s almost over.” she bumps her shoulder into his playfully and Eddie watches heartbroken as Buck gives her one of his charming megawatt grins. Taylor notices him staring and smiles politely. “Hey firefighter Diaz, didn’t see you there--we’re gonna’ hit Bahama Mama, you should come with us.”

Eddie tries to decline the invite but Taylor is relentless and despite his protests, he finds himself at the counter, ordering drinks next to Taylor, fifteen minutes later. He hates small talk, and apparently so does Taylor, because the moment Buck steps away to go to the restroom she turns to Eddie with her razor sharp stare and says, “So I heard you kissed Buck the other day and tried to do a little take back, huh?”

Eddie wants to glare at her and tell her to mind her business but this is her business, and he’s the one in the wrong here, not Taylor, and so instead of lashing out he bites his tongue and apologizes.

Taylor blinks. “What? Why are you saying that to me? It’s Buck you should be apologizing to. I’m not the one who’s heart you’re playing games with.” she snaps.

“What? What are you talking about? Look, I’m trying to say sorry here--I kissed him in the heat of the moment, and I want to say I wasn’t thinking straight but the truth is I’ve been in love with him for longer than I can admit but I know you two are dating and I know I overstepped, that wasn’t my intention at all so I just--”

“We’re not dating...”

Startled, Eddie turns around to face Buck, who’s standing behind him, having heard a good portion of that conversation. “What.”

“Is that why you said that? That you didn’t mean to kiss me? Because you thought Taylor and I were going out?” Buck can’t help but sound hopeful, gulping when it takes Eddie a moment to answer.

“You’re really not dating?” Eddie breathes out.

Buck shakes his head. “We’re just friends.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Taylor decides to break the silence. “So...I’m gonna go get us another round and let you two geniuses figure this out.”

As soon as she’s out of ear shot Buck sits down across from Eddie and both men try to speak simultaneously. “Oh, sorry, no, you go first.” Buck insists.

Eddie twiddles his thumbs and bites his lip. “How much of that did you hear, exactly?”

Buck’s heart pounds in his chest like a drum. “Uh, I think I walked up to the part where you told her you’re in love...with me? And for the record, I--you know, I--” Buck stumbles over his confession. “I’m in love with you. Too.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie leans over the table precariously and holds Bucks face in his hands, not giving a damn about the fact that they’re in a crowded bar. “Are you serious?”

Buck nods softly and the scruff of his five o’clock shadow gently scratches the palms of his hand and Eddie can’t get over how much he likes that feeling. He could hold Buck like this forever. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” Eddie lets Buck take the lead this time, digs his hands into those blonde curls as Buck twists a hand in his shirt and pulls him even closer.

Taylor finds them making out like teenagers in the corner of the bar twenty minutes later and pats herself on the back for a job well done. It’s about time those two idiots figured it out.

a/n anon i loved ur prompt <3 thanku!

#a little longer than a drabble mayhaps #oops #thanku for the prompt! :)#911 fox #buddie #long post is long #911 #buck buckley #eddie diaz #ask #911 fox spoilers

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heartbreakgrill · 4 years

Note

and to my prior request i have like those round coffee house glasses if there’s any consolation on what glasses i’m talking about lol & can i be on ur tag list? i love ur writing!!

description:

a/n: i am so sorry this took so long! despite quarantine, i’ve been unmotivated lmao. hope you like it!!

Relationships are all about connecting to another person, learning to love every single little thing about them. Because people were so unique, with deep personalities, this could take some time to do. Eventually, you may know everything there is to possibly know, which seems shocking. You still remember the plot line between Jim and Pam on The Office, in which Pam insists there must be something she doesn’t know about her husband. But, she does.

It’s difficult to think about for too long because you’ll find yourself becoming infatuated with the idea of learning as much as you can. So, in this relationship of just two months, you were letting things happen as fate allowed them to. You told Calum things here and there, and he reciprocated.

It would be when a morning when you showed up for breakfast that you learned he preferred tea over over coffee. There’d be a boring day at his house where you’d learn that he and Roy had a rotating chore list, shared in their text messages but sometimes written on the white board in the kitchen.

It was on a Thursday night when Calum learned you liked to be in bed on a work night at 9 pm. He’s wrestled with you, wanting to stay longer, but gave up when he realized how tired you truly were. Finally, there was that time at Ashtons, for a barbecue, when Calum learned you were allergic to strawberries after attempting to romantically feed you the chocolate covered piece of fruit.

But, there was still things neither of you knew about each other.

Friday nights were usually when you had the most fun. You’d spend all weekend together, and it kick it off with some late night Taco Bell runs or trips to Luke’s for a double-date, movie night with him and Sierra. Tonight would be spent in, watching movies, most likely going to get some type of fast food way-too late and, for the first time ever, staying the night at Calum’s house. It was going to be a learning curve for many reasons.

In preparation for your night in, you had already removed your makeup and contacts, coffee-house styled glasses framing your clean face. Your hair was in a bun, Calum’s green Empathy hoodie around your torso, and black leggings adorning your thighs. You drove to Calum’s house with the driver’s side window down, but now the sun was set, and you began to roll it up as a chilly gust of wind blew across the valley.

Soon enough, you were stepping out of your car, tugging the strap of your overnight bag over your shoulder, and shuffling towards Calum’s doorstep. You knocked three times before beginning to rock back and forth on your heels. The door pulled open and Roy grinned down at you.

You offered a polite smile as he stepped aside to let you in, “Hey, Roy. How are you?”

“I’m good, [Y/N], thanks. You?” He stood against the now-closed door, watching as you slipped out of your shoes.

Your voice dropped to a murmur with the lightest pink coloring your cheeks, “Nervous.”

Roy laughed, moving back towards the living room with, “Ah, you’ll be fine.”

As soon as he turned the corner, you heard the Duke’s nails tapping against the hallway floor. He came into the parlor, running as quickly as his little legs would allow. You crouched down, the strap of your bag falling down your shoulder. You shrugged it off further and picked Duke up in your arms. He licked your cheek, tail wagging against the crook of your elbow. You stood upright, moving further into the house.

“Hi, baby,” you nuzzled your nose against the soft fur of his neck, grinning at his comfort.

“Wow, Duke, so quick to abandon me just because [Y/N]’s here,” Calum rounded the same corner, dressed down in a Santa Cruz sweatshirt pulled over his blonde hair and pajama bottoms. He looked so cute, your heart almost melted.

You looked up from the dog, a shy smile adorning your features. “He just misses me.”

“Well, he’s not the only one,” Calum wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close to him as he could with Duke between the two of you. You pulled back slightly, bending down to set Duke on the floor. Calum brought you back against his chest, lips grazing your cheek in a sloppy kiss.

You giggled, writhing away from his lips. Calum’s mouth moved towards your nose, eyes shut, but he pushed so harshly because you were pulling away from him that he bashed his face against your glasses. They fell to the ground and you stumbled into Calums chest, laughing so hard your face burned bright red.

Calum was laughing, too, though it was being dialed down by his guilt and worry for the frames he didn’t even know existed. He managed to grab them from the floor, doing a once over to see if they were okay. They were, save a single Duke hair on the glass, so he handed them over.

You calmed down and slipped them over your ears. Calum’s eyes focused on them, admiring the way they fit your face. He, “didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“I do,” you pushed them up your nose, hand dropping to your side. “Do they look bad? I-“

He grabbed your hand as it moved back up at the frames, fingers intertwining with them, “No, they’re, like really cute. Like super adorable on you.”

You blushed again, chewing on your bottom lip, “Really?”

“I just wanna kiss your face, you’re so cute, Jesus,” Calum grabbed your waist with his free hand. You bumped into his chest, finding your footing with your forearm draped over his shoulders.

“Just dont knock them off again.”

Later that night, Calum drove the two of you to Taco Bell. It was chilly, but in spite of that, you cradled a slushee in your hand. Calum was holding the other, intertwined in your lap. He pulled off a road that didn’t lead back to his house, and didn’t answer your questions.

He parked the car on a hill overlooking the city. He pushed up the center consol to reveal the middle seat underneath. With a light tug, he had you under his arm, snuggled against his side. You leaned into him graciously, the scent from his hoodie matching that on his neck.

You closed your eyes for a moment, nearly falling asleep when you felt the slushee slipping from your fingers. A flash, also, woke you from your near passed-out state. Your eyes opened to a photo on Calum’s Snapchat of you and him, in the same position. He was grinning, eyes trained on you. They were flushed with pure adoration and you felt your cheeks redden, chest swell.

“Can I post this on Instagram?” He scrolled through his phone, which was still in your eyesight.

You were slightly taken back, thinking that you looked awful in your glasses, face red from the poor car lighting, and chin nearly doubled because you were so snuggled up. You shook your head of the self conscious thoughts, “Oh, sure, I guess.”

“Hey,” Calum set down his phone and turned so he could meet your eyes. “Youre beautiful, okay? I know it might not be something you agree with or feel and I cant force you to believe, but you are beautiful.”

“Cal, I,” you hesitated, “Ive just always been self conscious of my glasses. You can post the photo, Im just scared that the comments are going to reflect my thoughts.”

Calum opened his phone again, tapping on more buttons than needed. He turned off the comments. Added a caption that said, “My personal (and cuter) Harry Potter.”

You glanced back up at him, cupping his cheek with your free hand. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, holding him against you for longer than a moment. He jerked back only to press his lips against yours.

“I want to make you fall in love with yourself while I do.”

TAGLIST: @mantlereid

#calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #calum hood #calum hood fluff #calum blurb #calum fluff #5sos imgaines #luke 5sos #5sos x you #5sos x reader #5sos fluff #calm 5sos #calum 5sos #5sos blurb

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criminally--reid · 5 years

Text

Go Home, Spencer

Warnings: er smut? Fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, yaknow; also not rlly edited n kinda rushed but like whatever :/

Pairing: spencer reid x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k (1,268)

(authors note at the end if ur down I guess. kinda important i guess i dunno)

_________________________________________

“Mmmh, j-jesus fuck! Nnng so- fuck! So fucking good. Holy shit-”

Buzz Buzz Buzz

An incoming phone call interrupts you. You pause your video and answer the call from Morgan telling you to check on Reid. He hadn’t been quite the same since he went through everything with the last couple cases. You slip on a t-shirt and shorts and hop in your car to head to the office.

“Everything okay, Spence?” He’s in the meeting room, whiteboards covered in chicken scratch, cork boards covered in pictures upon pictures of crime scene photos.

“No.. No it’s not okay. I- I- I don’t understand how I didn’t see it-”

“Wha- what are you talking about?”

He runs his hands up his face and into his hair as he storms off to the break room; me hot on his trail.

“I can’t believe I had the initial profile wrong. I was so certain I knew, but he killed again. I thought I had it right; thought I knew.”

“Spence, we caught the guy. It’s over-"

"We could have caught him sooner."

"Spence, it's done. It’s friday. You can go home. For once, stop profiling and enjoy yourself.”

“I can’t just stop profiling. It’s what I do all day, everyday. I’d have to turn my brain off to quit. Like right now, you’re eager to get home. Not to someone, but something. You’re a bit fidgety. radiating an insane amount of body heat. I’m guessing you were watching porn before Morgan called-”

“I didn’t ask you to start profiling me, Spencer, and how’d you know Morgan called?”

“Merely observation…and Derek’s always the one that calls.” he continues, stepping closer.

“Spence-”

“You told me to enjoy myself... I’m about to.” He steps even closer so his front is flush with mine. I have trouble meeting his stern gaze until he places two fingers under yourchin, forcing eye contact. “Tell me, Y/N, was I right?” I nod yourhead and look away. “Not talking now are we? Words.”

“Yeah, Spence, you're right.”

A grim smile creeps across his face accompanied by an almost sarcastic laugh; a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “Spence? Seriously. I put so much effort and time; blood, sweat, and tears into earning a doctorate for everyone to call me Spence? Or spencer? Reid? No one respects my title, huh. I go above and beyond so I get the doctor respect, but still nothing.”

“I- no- of course we do. This team would be nothing without you. We- we know how hard you work, Spen-"

“Turn around.” you do as he says, turning around and gripping the edge of the large wooden table that sits in the middle of the room. He runs his hands up you back and around your neck, pulling your ear closer to his mouth. “What was it about?”

“Wha-”

“The video. What was it about?”

“Uh- i-it was, uhm, a- a boss and his uh employee..”

Spencer lets out a sinister yet somehow innocent laugh. “That excites you? You dirty girl. Is that something you think about a lot? Fucking whoever’s in charge of you at work?” You hesitate before slowly nodding your head. “I hope a co-worker can fulfill your fantasies.” He snakes his opposite hand down to plant a firm slap on your ass, eliciting a moan from your chapstick-coated lips.

He unwraveles his arm from around you and drops down to his knees behind you; taking your shorts down with him, revealing that you have no underwear on.

“No panties…” he whispers almost to himself. Excitement swells inside you as well as on the surface of your skin as he peppers open-mouthed kisses all over the back of your thighs, getting everso closer to your heat. He pries your legs open, and you let out slow, deep, shaky breaths in response. They soon become shallow - almost nonexistent - as he slip stwo fingers inside you. “So wet,” he snickers. He quickens his pace with each thrust, and you're a mess in no time.

“S-spencer,” you choke out.

Another harsh slap on your ass. “Who?”

“Dr. Reid.. please..”

“Please what?” He quickens his fingers, rendering you almost speechless.

“Fu-fuck me, Dr. Reid, please.’’

Immediately, he stops in his tracks and removes his fingers; an empty feeling washing over you. He stands up, his front flush with yourback and you can feel his bulge pressing up against your thigh, through his pants. “Open,” he says, and you part your lips allowing his fingers to dance inside, coating your tongue with your own juices.

“Good girl.”

You hear the sound of him undoing his belt followed by his suit pants hitting the floor. You spread your legs slightly, more than ready for him. The tip of his length makes contact with your slick folds and your insides tighten up automatically. “S- Doctor, please.”

“As you wish.”

He slips inside easily, and you feel full once again. He goes agonizingly slow; torturing you. Slow, long strokes, filling you to your hilt; then all the way out and back in again.

“Doctor Reid, faster, plea- ohmygod!”

“Shti! So fucking tight.”

The sound of his thighs hitting the back of your slick ones fills and echoes through the room. A harsh slap on your ass followed by a squeal adds to the audible pleasure. He removes his hands from your hips to tangle one into your hair and the other one snaking around your front to rub hellish circles on your clit. You collapse onto the table - putty in his hands; an absolute moaning mess. The knot that began before you got there returning full-force, threatening to unwind. You clench around his length, trying to hold back your orgasm and relish in the immense pleasure. But all too soon, the floodgates are threatening to open; aching for release.

“Mmh- you gonna cum for me?” Spencer breathes out from behind you, his pace ruthless and steady.

“Mmfuck, Spence- yes.”

His grip tightens in your hair, and he pulls your head back - ear level with his mouth as he lowly taunts, “How do we ask nicely?”

“Doctor Reid,, plea- fuck! Please.. Can I cum, please?- S-so fucking good. Spencer... please?”

“Cum,” he whispers in yourear; sending shivers down your spine. Almost instinctively, you clench around him and your juices explode. An uncontrollable, high-pitched cry leaving your mouth as anticipation finally reached its apex.

A few more strokes and Spencer pulls out and finishes on yourlower back, leaving you with an aching empty feeling once again. His hands falling on either side of you holding him up. Both of us panting like race dogs. He stands up - putting some space between you and him - allowing you to turn around and admire the sight in front of you: A wild Spencer, glistening with post-sex sweat, dressed in nothing but a haphazardly buttoned beige button-up, running his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

You both hurry to throw your clothes back on.

“So…” Spencer starts.

“That was.. -”

“Yeah, it was.” Spencer attempts to sputter out a sentence, and you both laugh at his failure.

“Listen, I- uh.. Okay,” you laugh. “Go home, pretty boy. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and don’t even think about this place until Monday.”

He stands in front of you once again, your back up against the table, his hands lightly resting on your sides. “I think I’ve had enough fun in the last hour to last you the rest of the weekend. Given that, I’m obligated to come back tomorrow.”

“Jesus Christ, Reid.” you chuckle, and he joins in.

“Fine. Monday.” He places a kiss to your forehead, grabs his cross-body bag, and heads to the door. A quick wink, and he’s out of yoursight all too soon.

“Monday,” you whisper lowly to yourself, and smile like a total loon all the way back to your car.

○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°

a.n.: ok so like this isn't rlly edited but whatever I already said that akajak

the thing is, I have a few more of these already written (that I should actually prob look over n edit). But I cant decide if I should try harder to make them a series or not. The story lines VAGUELY run together, but like I references different seasons of spencer?? like does that matter ?? or? Maybe it could just be like an analogous series bcos the plots kinda make sense individually.. eye dunno bbies,, gimme ur opinion if ur reading this :)

Also,, lemme know ur opinion on the spacing. I feel like this.is too far apart, but i feel like if i dont double space or whatever, the words will get jumbled up and it'll be harder to read? It is for me at least.. lemme know what yall prefer

Ok so I made the spacing smaller. I feel like it's hard to read but maybe I'm just an idiot:/ lemme know uwu

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #cm #criminal minds #smut #fanfiction #x reader #self insert #mgg #matthew gray gubler #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jj jereau #jennifer jereau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jason gideon

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areluctantsblog · 5 years

Text

Teacher!Tony wrong number au - Part 9

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8

Fucking finally, ey? I can’t tell you how incredibly grateful I am for all the support this story kept getting during this huge hiatus. Make no mistake, it was you, dear people, who got me through it, especially in the past couple of month, while my inspiration warred with my guilt and anxiety about this story.

I tag each and every one of you with a special thank you! @scarletmanuka1 @whenfandomscollide @speckledcoffeecups @hogwartstoalexandria @aoifelaufeyson @geekmom13 @red-eyes88 @Pretzelpoetry @lunakir @airebellah @starkercrossedlovers @smidnite @try--again2244 @greyastocoal @ur-fav-starker-stan @prihoney @ravens-starker-stuff @starker-reader @emeraldstark @starkerxstarker @maqnusbae @nyctophile3000 @spider-iron-man @rebel13lion39 @youknowwhoiamx @theatrekidwithissues @blueyoshi97 @t-hollands-bitch @starkerintheparker

Have fun reading!

***

Peter scoffs, but some of the weight lifts from his chest even though he still doesn’t have any idea what to tell his best friend. He sees Ned typing, so he waits for his next message.

The tight knot around Peter's windpipe loosens a bit as a soft chuckle escapes him.

Seeing his friend's apology prompts Peter to reply. He types hastily.

Peter stares at the screen for a long minute before hitting call with a sigh. His chest feels like a battlefield where warm fuzzy butterflies war with cold clammy hands that cut off his breath.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” comes his best friend’s excited voice.

“Um, hi," Peter chokes out and winces at how feeble he sounds.

Every time he talks about it, he feels an ever bigger mess. It's as if talking about it would make it more real. Less easy to handle. And yet, when he's with Tony—God, he's been with Tony twice now!—things seem to come so easily. Why does it have to become so complicated when he thinks about it? Sure, when he's with Tony, his mind is reduced to mush, but at least he doesn't wonder about how real things are. And even if they were real, wouldn’t he feel happy? Euphoric even… Peter groans.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Peter hurries to say. It rings false even to his own ears, and yet it helps him realise that objectively it’s true. He's panicking, yes, but nothing's really wrong. At least not with him. When he thinks about Tony though, his heart aches.

Ned remains silent.

“Um,” Peter starts again. “That’s not… It’s complicated. I’m okay, though. Well, I'm a mess," he admits, voice cracking, "but that's no news." He needs to take a break. He's having difficulty breathing and he feels hot all over. He wants to tell Ned, wants to somehow be able to explain the turmoil within him, but he can’t get the words out. He rakes his fingers through his hair, scraping the back of his neck with more force than necessary.

“Anyway…” he starts, pumping himself to speak the words. What comes out instead is… Not the words he meant. “How was your ride home?” His voice betrays him again, jumping several notes higher.

Ned laughs. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy to tell you about all the wonders a half-an-hour subway ride can offer, but I really don’t believe that you’re interested in that right now.”

“No, you are right,” Peter admits, deflating. At least his voice sounds like his own now, even though it’s weak again. "Something… Something has happened.”

He can hear a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line.

Fuck, he still hasn't thought this through. How can he tell it to Ned? However involuntary Tony’s confidence might have been, he can’t betray it. And now he's given the wrong impression.

“Nothing like that," he assures quickly. "Nothing like you know, between us. It’s about Tony and I don’t think he’d appreciate if I told you,” Peter confesses. “I’m sorry,” he adds, readying himself for a hurt comeback.

He's an idiot. Why has he teased, if he won't spill it?

“Wow, man. You know a secret about your crush?”

At first, Peter barely notices how different his best friend sounds than he expected, but then he processes it and as the excitement in Ned's voice penetrates his mind, he sags with relief.

"You're the best, Ned, you know that, right?" Peter sighs.

"Come off it," Ned huffs, but Peter can tell that he's pleased.

He smiles and thinks.

"I mean, it's kinda personal," he admits, "and well, I'm not telling it, so it's secret, I guess."

There’s a moment of silence before they both burst out laughing. The heavy feeling in Peter’s chest finally dissipates, and heat pools into its place as the butterflies win the battle inside him. He pulls his pillow to his chest, and squeezes it tightly to keep himself from wriggling and squealing.

"Wow, man."

"Yeah," Peter's voice breaks.

"Do you think that he…?" Ned doesn't finish, but he doesn’t need to: Peter's brain supplies several different options in a heartbeat.

Does Tony know how he feels? How does Tony feel about Peter now? Are the days events really such a big deal or is it just Peter obsessing again? They were so close. Not just physically. But physically, too and every cell in Peter’s body comes alive with the memories of holding the man he loves in his arms.

Before he could voice any of that—if he even would want to voice any of that, which he is in absolutely no condition to decide with his heart swelling to twice its usual size and threatening to explode—Ned speaks over the phone.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Peter but I gotta go. Family thing. Talk later?”

“Sure,” Peter assures. “Go on, I’m fine.”

He isn’t. He finds that out as soon as there’s silence at the other end of the line. Despite his elation and excitement the “what now?” that takes the place of his best friend’s voice in his mind makes his stomach drop. He opens his eyes, hoping that it will ground him—and wondering when he had closed them in the first place—, but it only makes it worse. He blinks at his bedside cabinet and his eyes gloss over. The objects cluttered there confront him painfully with himself and he squeezes his eyes shut, throat tight. He’s a child. A pathetic little kid, who’s still reading comics and plays with Legos. Who wastes his time figuring out fictional spaceships’ mechanics instead of building something in real life. Fine, he has his research but what does he do with that? After telling Tony on Friday that he has big plans for the weekend, he’s spent half of it stupidly pining for a man so obviously out of his league that it’s ridiculous.

A man, he wants so much that it hurts. A man who he held in his arms just a few hours ago. A man whose scent, inexplicably, still lingers in his nostrils. Did it soak itself into his clothes? His skin? Or is it just his imagination? Peter doesn’t care. He inhales deeply and lets the memory of their hug wash over him. It didn’t last nearly as long as he wished, but now he can linger and explore the sensations coursing through his body. The emotions that didn’t register over his nervousness and shock at the time hit him all at once. His skin is tingling, hot all over, and he squeezes his pillow tighter to his chest, just like he did when Tony was shaking and out of it. He doesn’t want that for him, but god, he yearns to touch him like that again, without holding back, without sparing a thought to decorum. He wants to do it for pleasure.

The intensity of it all tears a sob out of Peter and he shifts in his bed to bury his face into his pillow. Then, he moves his hips again. And again. It feels good. Comforting. Relieving.

Until he realises that he’s hard.

Peter gasps and pushes his flaming face deeper into his pillow but he can’t help rutting against his rumpled duvet again. He shouldn’t, but at that moment he can’t think of a reason why. He whimpers desperately and arches his back to press more tightly against the mattress. He’s breaking out in sweat, and by then the hotness in his cheeks has less to do with shame than arousal. Everything he’s been feeling in the past couple of days is coming together in this hot feeling that washes over him and sweeps away his restraint. It leaves him weak and breathless, but right then he doesn’t need anything else than the friction against his erection and that solid, warm presence against his chest.

He inhales sharp, craving to gulp down Tony’s scent, aching to feel the scratch of his goatee on his cheeks and to hear his low voice in his ears. Peter hugs him tighter and moans, despite his best effort, as his climax hits him. He shudders through his orgasm, then, a leaden weight seeps into his limbs in the wake of his ecstasy. He’s still panting, but he’s too exhausted to open his eyes. He just needs a minute, just a minute to catch his breath and come around…

***

Hope you liked it! Hopefully, you won’t have to wait too long for part 10, because I’ve already started it.

#starker #starker fic #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #tony x peter #teacher!tony #wrong number au #part 9

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rangoatemybabynsfw · 6 years

Note

Ohhh ur trans thing got me going: Trans Lance really nervous about telling Keith he's pregnant but Keith is fucking exstacic when he finds out and they have amazing sex, and caring sex afterwards

He thought they’d been careful. That they’d always used condoms and sometimes they even avoided sex on certain days when he knew he’d be most fertile. And yet–Lance waits with nervousness as he stares at the stick.

That stupid stupid fucking period is late. By two weeks. Could just be stress or something. He prays that it’s stress or something. I mean, he had a zit last week and that’s enough to send him into a panic spiral. That’s gotta be enough to fuck up a per–Lance’s eyes go wide.

Two. Two lines. One line means not pregnant. Two means…

“Oh…boy…” he barely breathes. “Uh…How am I–”

Knock knock! Lance nearly jumps on the toilet seat. He hides the test in his hand and stands up.

“Anything else you wanna add to the grocery list?” Keith asks through the door. “I got fruits and veggies. Paper towels. Cat litter. Anything else?”

Lance opens the door to find Keith with a notebook and looking it over with a serious look. Leave it to Keith to treat groceries as serious business.

“You hear me?”

“Yeah. Keith?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you feel about…kids?” Lance asks nervously.

“I don’t think we can buy those at the grocery store,” Keith quirks a brow and Lance snorts. What an answer. “They’re kind of expensive but I think we could fit one into our budget if you gave up Friday Wine Nights.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I have to,” Lance says as he waves the test.

Keith’s eyes fall on the test and stare. The gears turn slowly as it soaks in. Lance knows when it officially clicks when Keith’s eyes blink wide and the pen and pad fall from his hands to clatter on the floor.

“S-Seriously?” he asks stepping closer and taking the test in hand.

Two lines. Pregnant. Lance is pregnant.

“Yeah,” Lance says, biting his bottom lip nervously.

“Can you take the test again?”

“Think its a false positive?” Lance asks, worried that this means Keith doesn’t want this.

“Fuck, I hope not!” Keith exclaims. “If I call Shiro to tell him he’s an uncle and it isn’t true he might kill us both for getting his hopes up.”

Lance’s heart swells with fondness at the look of eager excitement on Keith’s face. He’s not worried at all. He’s actually excited about this. Keith’s still looking at the test when a sudden thought occurs to him. He blinks with shock and looks to Lance.

“I’m…gonna be a dad,” he realizes belatedly and his smile starts to split wide, wider than Lance’s currently.

“Well, yeah…that’s what that means,” Lance snorts. Keith bends down and grabs the grocery list again and starts scribbling away quickly. “What are you–?”

“Parenting books, pregnancy books…should we start buying diapers now? Like stockpiling them?” Keith wonders as he writes. “A bigger mattress…we’ll need a new mattress so you can sleep better. And–”

“Keith!” Lance snorts. “We’ve got nine months. We have time.”

“Right,” Keith nods and throws the list aside. He picks Lance up and whirls him through the air. “We’ll grocery shop later. Now I’m going to take the father of my child to the bedroom and make love to him in celebration. We’re gonna be dads!”

“We’re gonna be dads!” Lance shouts with him and they laugh.

A new adventure awaits them. Parenthood. And they’re glad to have each other’s backs.

#Rango answers #Klance #Trans Lance #soft Klance

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honestdreams · 6 years

Text

A Little Push | Peter Kavinsky

Request: could i pls have peter k x reader where reader always roasts him/teases him and he just laughs along and its all good but there’s this one day where he’s in another state for wtvr reason (they talk like 25/8 lmao) and she calls him and just quietly says like “hey… i miss u” and his heart is just dying bcos she’s usually not that open with affection and all and he just loves her even more :’)) thank u i love ur work !!

A/N: thank you for the support, and your request! It was a challenge but as I always say I love a challenge, anyway sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy it!

words: 1473

I ruffled Peter’s hair as I walked by him, taking my seat behind him with a grin on my lips, listening as he complained about his hair being even more messed up now.

“Relax its only English class who are you trying to impress Kavinsky?” I teased, leaning close to him, resting my chin on my hand.

“Ha ha very funny, I didn’t have time to do my hair alright? This is still my bed head so thank you for contributing to it.” He finished with a yawn and my heart swelled.

Peter was ridiculously cute and I hated him for it, because he knew it. He could play any girl like a fiddle, myself included, but instead of fawning over him like every other girl. I became his friend, treated him like any other guy, teased him, and became someone more than a love interest.

Even then, I still had the biggest crush on him.

“So what do you have for lunch?” Peter asked ‘curiously’, though already knowing the answer. I knew him well enough to know he was still hungry and this was just his way of asking if he could have some of mine.

“The best sandwich in town of course, same as every Friday.” I answered with a smile on my lips.

“I don’t get why you don’t let me drive you to school on Fridays, like I would drive you to the sandwich shop in the morning and to school, it’s no big deal.” He explained as I placed down a napkin, placing his side of the sandwich on it then sliding it over to him.

“I know but I just don’t want you to go out of your way for me. Really I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not, I mean you always half this with me, it’s the least I could do for you, but you won’t let me.” He shrugged, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite of it. Dramatically moaning at the taste making me laugh, “Fuck this is so good.” He spoke with his mouth full making me roll my eyes at his grossness.

“I love you.” He mumbled and my eyes widened, I didn’t know if he was talking to me or the sandwich (since he was eating it so intimately).

I smiled watching him happily eat, but soon the smile faded from my lips as I realised how deeply I felt for Peter, and that fact that he would never feel the same about me.

Apparently Peter noticed my change in mood and put down his glorious sandwich, while I was consumed in my thoughts. He moved closer to me, noticing the blank stare of my eyes as I became more depressed.

“Hey are you okay?” He questioned, placing his hand on my arm, pulling me away from my thoughts and I looked into his eyes.

There was so much concern and worry in them so I just faked a smile and laughed “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” I tried lying through my teeth, even though I knew that Peter knew I was lying.

However, instead of insisting I tell him what was wrong, like he usually did, he shrugged and moved away from me, sitting further than he was before. And I felt hurt. Worried even. Did Peter finally grow tired of nature of closing myself off from people, and hiding my true feelings?

I frowned to myself all throughout lunch, as no other words were exchanged between the two of us, not even when it was time to say goodbye. Peter just left. He didn’t even look at me, let alone say anything. This was so unlike Peter, usually he would chase me to class just to give me a goodbye hug, but I guess he’s finally tired of me.

Finally walking out of school, I felt a little bit better. I was free to go home and sleep, or if I was wise, study. I had forgotten about my dilemma with Peter for the moment. That was until I watched him walked right past me, with Gen. A girl who truly took Peter for granted, even above me; I always told Peter that she was toxic and he deserved much better, and he would always agree but maybe he was going back to his old ways.

I regrettably stared as they walked to his car, he opened the door for her and I swear Gen held a smug smirk on her lips just for me; she knew I was staring and wanted to rub it in my face. She hated me because I stood against everything she did. I stopped her from bullying people like Lara Jean, put her in her place when she stuck her head in other people’s business and made sure she knew she wasn’t above anyone, especially Peter. I suppose now she was ecstatic that we were finally separated.

I looked at Peter and his eyes met mine, my heart stopped for a second, hope brimming inside me, but he quickly turned away and shook his head; slamming the passenger door of his car shut, making Gen jump, and me flinch.

I laid in my bed, reading a book, trying to distract myself from the aching hole inside me, I was missing something, or someone. Usually on a Friday night I was with Peter, either watching a movie, studying or just talking, but tonight, obviously, Peter wasn’t with me. He was with Gen.

I couldn’t blame him. Truly, I would only scold him for talking to Gen, that is if he ever talked to me again (so dramatic lol).

I missed him. He’s my Peter Kavinsky, and if I didn’t want to lose him I knew I had to tell him how I really felt about him.

I picked up my phone, not fighting the smile that tugged on my lips as I viewed my lock screen; it was Peter and I at the beach, he was sat behind me as we sat together watching the sunset on my birthday. He had surprised me with a trip to the beach, my all-time favourite place, and we stayed there for hours.

I wasn’t going to give up this boy without a fight. I had to call him.

Luckily for me he picked up after a couple of rings.

“Hello.” He answered with his naturally husky voice, and I froze, I had no idea what I was going to say, “Um hello Y/n?”

So I just said the first thing that came out of my mouth, “Hey… I miss you.”

The line went silent, and I assumed Peter had hung up on me, but what I didn’t know what that Peter was actually speechless, I had never done anything like this before i.e. tell him how I felt, so he had no idea what to do.

“Can I come over?” He asked quickly, not wanting to waste any time and I chuckled.

“Yes. Please do.”

I sat on my porch waiting for Peter to pull up and the second he did I jumped up, and he without even turning off his car, threw open his door and opened his arms to me, which I immediately jumped into. I wrapped myself around him and took in his presence.

I felt tears streaming down my cheeks as I nuzzled my face into his shoulder and cried onto his hoodie. He stroked my hair softly and continued to repeat that everything’s going be okay. I pulled away to stare into his hazel eyes and saw something I had never seen before, love maybe, and I knew I shouldn’t hold anything back anymore.

“I love you Peter, I have ever since I first met you. Even if you don’t return my feelings, I needed to tell you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Gosh for someone so bright, I can’t believe you never saw it.”

“Saw what?” I asked confused.

“The fact that I love you Y/N. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have stuck by you all these years, because you are the most difficult person to handle, but I am so madly in love with you that it didn’t matter, and I know I don’t belong anywhere else but right beside you. You just needed a little push to tell me how you really felt.” He smiled that perfect smile of his and I rolled my eyes, not liking that he played me like this but he was right, we both knew it.

“God I hate you.” I mumbled, moving my lips closer to his.

“I think you mean love.”

“No, I’m sure I meant hate.” I grinned and finally pressed my lips against his. Instantly feeling the fireworks, and I knew, like Peter said, I belonged right here, with him.

Masterlist

Heyyyy thanks for reading this, just want to give a big shout out to my followers and anyone that shows me love, it means the world to me ♡ I’ve been getting a lot of requests and support about my writing and it makes me really happy...Meaning I’m working hard to write more Peter Kavinsky/Noah Centineo (coming soon) to make you guys happy 💖 I love you all so much, so don’t forget to request your little hearts out

#honestdreams #request #anon #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky x reader #peter kavinsky imagine #to all the boys i've loved before #to all the boys i've loved before imagine #to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys ive loved before imagine #noah centineo #noah centineo imagine #noah centineo x reader

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protectjugheadjonesiii · 7 years

Text

Missed Opportunities

Anon requests: If ur still taking requests. Can you do one where the reader of best friends with Juggie but they told him how they feel, but Juggie doesn't listen and then in a football game Reggie makes a move and they accept b/c Juggie doesn't seem to acknowledge them that way and Juggie ends up jealous...

Request if you still take one. Reader and Jughead have been friends forever and they said stuff to each other about being together but Jughead been avoiding it. Reader wants something more, and in a football game Reggie asks them out and they say yes b/c they feel they need to love since Jughead is avoiding them about their feelings and Jughead gets jealous...

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: You missed a thousand opportunities to tell your best friend that you fell in love with him. One night, you finally seize the chance.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,926

A/N: I’m so sorry for my inactivity, I hope this longer imagine makes up for it. Enjoy!

You didn’t mean to fall in love with your best friend. It was an accident.

You weren’t sure when exactly it happened. It wasn’t anything sudden; you didn’t wake up one morning and realize you were in love. It was a slow process.

Maybe it began when you two met at Pop’s. He was sitting in his regular booth, brooding and mysterious. He was the edgiest ten year old in Riverdale. For the first time, you entered Pop’s all by yourself. Your parents had decided that double digits meant that you could be more independent. Of course, your first action was to go to the best diner in Riverdale all on your own. Once you arrived, you realized how scary being alone was. Scanning the diner, you looked for a companion to sit with. You spotted a boy who looked around the same age as you.

“Can I sit here?” you asked, approaching the table. The boy stared at you suspiciously for a moment.

“Sure,” he nodded after a second of contemplation. You smiled and sat down across from him.

“I’m (Y/N),” you greeted, sticking your hand out across the table. The boy tentatively shook it.

“Jughead,” he introduced himself.

“That’s a weird name,” you crinkled your nose. He shrugged.

“I know.”

Maybe it was that night at the drive-in: a cold October night, and you forgot your jacket. Vertigo was on that night, and Jughead, knowing it was one of your favorite movies, notified you that it was playing. You asked him, with a smirk, if he had anything to do with this movie being played; with an indignant scoff, he promised you that he had no part in the Twilight Drive-In playing your favorite movie. The two of you sat together watching the movie, Jughead’s arm casually draped around your shoulders. Bitter October night winds blew in, causing you to shiver. Jughead noticed this, so he drew you closer to him. It wasn’t the warmth Jughead provided you that caused the redness in you cheeks.

There was no way for you to pinpoint when exactly you fell in love with your best friend. Every time you saw him, wearing that goddamned beanie and a wide grin, your heart skipped a beat. Each time your hands brushed against each other, or your thighs rested right next to each other, you could feel your affection swell.

But as Newton’s third law states: every action has an equal opposite reaction. Every time you fell a little more in love with Jughead, there was an agonizing pain in your heart because you could never be with him. You knew you could never build up the courage to tell your best friend you’re in love with him. All the risks threatening your friendship with Jughead were enough to keep your feelings bottled up.

Although you swore to yourself that you’d never reveal your secret affections for Jughead, you found that hiding things from your best friend was more difficult than you imagined.

“(Y/N),” Jughead interrupted your thoughts, causing your head to snap up. Immediately, you plastered a smile on your face.

“Yeah, Jug?” you asked, slightly tilting your head. He shook his head at you.

“What’s up with you lately?” he questioned, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks.”

“I’m fine Jug,” you waved him off. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” Jughead ignored your protests.

“I promise you, Jug, if there’s something wrong I’ll tell you.” Satisfied with your answer, he nodded at your response and turned back to his laptop. The two of you sat in the diner booth, each doing your own thing. After an hour of silence, you closed the book you were reading and set it down on the table. Jughead noticed this, so he lowered his laptop lid.

“Something wrong?” he inquired. You pursed your lips for a moment, contemplating what to say.

“Have you ever thought about us?” you asked. He shot you a confused glance, so you elaborated. “Have you ever thought about us, I don’t know… as not friends? Like more?” Jughead’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I mean… yeah,” he shrugged. You bit your lip.

“Do you think it could ever work?”

“I don’t know,” he responded. “I’d just hate to ruin our great friendship, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”

The next day at school, Jughead completely avoided you. Every time you attempted to approach him, he turned on his heel and walked in the other direction. After practically confessing your feelings last night, you were devastated to see Jughead ignoring you. This continued throughout the rest of the week; Jughead never talked to you, no matter how hard you tried to communicate with him. On Friday, Archie approached you.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he greeted. You shot him a small smile.

“Hey, Archie.”

“I’m sorry about Jughead,” he frowned, looking at you with pity. You shrugged and shook your head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you responded, causing his frown to deepen. “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Well, actually, no,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s been a rough week for you, but I was wondering if you wanted to come to the game tonight. It’s a big game, so I’d just really appreciate it if you were there.” He offered a hesitant smile at you, and your fake smile widened into a real one.

“Sure, Archie,” you responded. He thanked you and headed away, probably searching for other people to invite to the game. You knew you hadn’t been in the best shape for the past week, but you figured this was the perfect opportunity to get your mind off of everything that had happened. It was an opportunity to forget about Jughead.

You arrived at the football stadium, and you wandered into the bleachers, looking for a place to sit. As you wandered around, you spotted Jughead. Before he could turn his head to look at you, you dashed out of sight. Finally, you found a seat at the top of the bleachers. You watched the entire game from there, clapping and cheering along with the rest of the crowd every time Riverdale High’s team scored. Once the buzzer signaled the end of the game, and another victory for Riverdale, you ran down to the field to congratulate Archie. Instead of finding Archie, you ran into Reggie.

“(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, his sweaty figure towering over you.

“Hey, Reggie!” you smiled. He grinned.

“I haven’t seen you around lately,” he noted. You shrugged.

“Did you want to?”

“Well yeah,” he laughed. Oddly, you found yourself blushing. “We should catch up sometime, (Y/N). How about Tuesday?” You blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

“Seriously?” you questioned. He nodded as if it was obvious.

“Of course. Eight o’clock at Pop’s?” You grinned and nodded. He did the same and then walked off to celebrate the victory with his teammates. Turning on your heel, you suddenly came face-to-face with Jughead.

“Reggie? Seriously (Y/N)?” he inquired, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

“At least he had the courage to ask me out,” you scoffed, stomping off and leaving a stunned Jughead behind.

Tuesday night arrived quickly, and, as promised, you met Reggie at Pop’s. He sat waiting in a booth, and when you entered, his face illuminated with a grin. The night went successfully, and you thoroughly enjoyed your time with Reggie. You didn’t even notice the dark figure watching you from a few booths away.

“I had a great time tonight, (Y/N),” Reggie said as he noticed the time. It was nearly midnight. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course,” you nodded, smiling. He grinned.

“And, just to be clear, these are dates, right?” You hesitated at this, and for the first time you looked up and spotted Jughead. Realizing you were staring at him, he averted his gaze. You turned back to Reggie and frowned.

“Reggie,” you started, twiddling with your fingers. His face slowly fell as he anticipated what you were going to say. “You’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you, but… I like someone else.” You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends.” The football star stood up, remaining in front of your table. He offered you a small smile.

“I understand,” he sighed. “Of course we can be friends. I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” He strode away from your table and exited the diner. Once he was out of sight, you turned all of your attention to Jughead. You stood up and rushed over to his table.

“What the hell, Jughead?” you seethed, sitting down across from him. He refused to make eye contact with you. “Were you spying on me?”

“We’re best friends, (Y/N), you should know by now that I’m always at Pop’s,” he spat in retaliation. You didn’t back down.

“Oh so we are best friends?” you cynically questioned. “That’s funny, because I don’t think we’ve spoken in a week.”

“I had a lot on my mind, okay?” he defended himself, growing quieter. You rolled your eyes and nodded.

“Uh huh,” you scoffed, “a lot on your mind. Whatever, Jughead.” You rose from your seat and prepared to exit, but Jughead grabbed your wrist.

“Wait, (Y/N),” he stopped you. You raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

“Wow thanks,” you smiled sarcastically. “This makes everything better, Jughead.”

“I know it doesn’t,” he rolled his eyes, “but I can’t do anything else except apologize, (Y/N).”

“How about you talk to me?” you offered, narrowing your eyes as you settled back into your seat. “Because I’ve had my feelings out there for a week now, Jughead, and you haven’t said anything about it.”

“What feelings?” he questioned. “All you asked me is if I thought we should be a couple.”

“What do you think that was?” you practically screamed. “Did you really just think that was just casual conversation, Jug? Come on, you’re smarter than that!”

“Okay, so you confessed your feelings to me!” he exclaimed, frustratedly throwing his hands up. “How do you think I felt, (Y/N)? When I thought my best friend was thinking about the same possibility as me? I was fucking terrified!” This drew you aback.

“Terrified?” you echoed. “Why… why were you terrified?”

“Because I think about that too, (Y/N), all the time!” he didn’t yell, but his voice grew louder. “I don’t know when it happened, but sometime between that first time you walked in through those diner doors,” he pointed at the entrance, “and right now, something changed. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, and I certainly don’t know why. All I know when I saw you laughing with good-looking, athletic Reggie the only thing I could think about is all the times I could’ve told you how I felt, and I didn’t.” He was almost panting by the end of his tangent, and you were subdued by shock. The two of you sat together in silence, staring at each other in astonishment.

“Missed opportunities,” you finally murmured, breaking the silence. “We both… we both missed so many opportunities.” You bit your lip between your teeth, holding back a smile.

“But here we are,” Jughead replied, a smile creeping onto his face. “We missed a thousand opportunities, but the universe gave us one more.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” you smiled. He grinned.

“Neither do I,” he responded. “But I do believe in us.”

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juniperhillpatient · 8 years

Text

Summary: Veronica and Reggie bond over shared feelings

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff with a side of emo

Pairing: Veronica/Reggie

*****************************************************************************************************

"Friendship is a pretty full-time occupation if you really are friendly with somebody. You can't have too many friends because then you're just not really friends” - Truman Capote.

Friendship. Loneliness wasn't a common phenomenon for a Lodge girl. Lodges were adored by all. That's what Veronica's mother always told her anyway.

Yet Betty was out at dinner with her parents, Archie was hanging out with Jughead, and Veronica didn't want anyone else to know she didn't have anything planned for a Friday evening.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The rain was pattering on the roof, and pouring down the window Veronica was sitting beside like a waterfall. She ran a finger through her dark hair, twisting it.

Her phone dinged and she was a little faster to look than she normally would have been.

"Hi Ronnie, wyd?" the text read.

It was from Mantle the Magnificent. Ugh, Reggie Mantle. He'd put his number into her phone under that name. What a piece of work. This was clearly a bootie call. How embarrassing. She sighed, typing back.

"Soon, going to the Twilight Drive-in with you I hope. How to Marry a Millionaire is playing."

"Be at ur place in 5"

She rolled her eyes, standing to go to her closet to find an outfit other than the jeans and blouse she had worn to school. She decided on a red cotton dress with a black belt and a little pair of boots with heels.

As she pulled the dress over her head there was a knock at the bedroom door. Before she could pull the dress all the way over her head the bedroom door opened. She hurried to get the dress on and looked up to glare at Reggie Mantle who's expression was a staged mix of amused and embarrassed. Like he hadn't done that on purpose.

"Don't you knock?" she snapped, straightening the fabric of the dress.

"Well," he said, approaching her so that he was standing over her. "To be fair, I did."

"Yeah," she said, shoving him away as she leaned down to put on the shoes. "And didn't even wait for an answer."

"Ronnie," he said, meeting her eyes as she stood up. "I'm sorry. Really."

"Fine," she said, grabbing her purse. "You ready?"

"Actually," Reggie said, hesitant. "I'm not really in the mood for the Twilight? Maybe we could just stay here and watch something?"

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Veronica said. "This is not a Netflix and chill date Reggie Mantle, because I do not do Netflix and chill dates."

"Hah," Reggie leaned against the doorway, spreading out his body and trying to get her to look him up and down the way he was her. "You'd be lucky to Netflix and chill with me. I just wanted to hang out. With just us. Really."

"Okay," Veronica said, suspicious. "My parents aren't home," she told him as she put down her purse.

Reggie raised his eyebrows. He was still leaning against the door frame, and maybe her eyes wandered just a little to the flesh peeking out at the bottom of his shirt hem.

"So we can use the living room!" Exasperated, she hit him in the arm with her pillow before tossing it back onto her bed.

He followed her down the spiral staircase, and into the living room where he sat down, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Casual, she picked up his feet and put them back on the floor. She walked over to the shelf of DVDs.

"Breakfast at Tiffany's?" she asked, holding up the DVD.

"I was thinking more like Sharknado, but you're the hostess so whatever you want."

She shook her head in dismay as she put the DVD in, and turned off the light before sitting beside him. She shivered. She'd been planning on bringing a blanket to the Twilight Drive-In.

She scooted closer to him, and he did that lame yawning move where he stretched out and put his arm around her. She hesitated, and leaned against him, relaxing against his perfect build. He ran a hand through her hair, casual and relaxed as always.

"You know," he said. "I thought you'd be doing something for sure tonight. A girl like you everyone in town wants to be around you."

"What about you?" she asked. "I thought you were always referring to yourself as the best piece of Action in Riverdale?"

"Well duh," Reggie said with a chuckle. He was still running his hand through her hair, and it was really nice. She was only half watching the movie. She'd seen it many times before.

She felt safe and warm with her head resting against Reggie's chest and his arm around her, fingers in her hair. She felt like she could be honest with him.

"Sometimes," Veronica admitted, "It feels like I'm always surrounding myself with people that admire me for my money and my looks just to avoid the fact that deep down, I'm all alone."

"I know the feeling," Reggie muttered.

"You do?" Veronic asked, sitting up a little to look at him. He avoided eye contact with her.

"Well, you know," Reggie said. "Only because I'm so awesome. No one could ever love me as much as I love myself." He forced a laugh, but Veronica could hear the sadness there.

"Yeah," she said, leaning against him again. "But sometimes it's like....Like yeah, I have money and looks but my parents are always out of town. What good is all this nice stuff if I don't ever get to see my parents?"

"I get that," Reggie said. He was back to stroking her hair. "You know I've only seen my dad once this month? And when I saw him, this is so dumb. but I-" Reggie cut himself off in the middle of the sentence. He repositioned so he could look her in the face. "I swear to God Ron, if you ever tell a soul about this, even Betty, I'll tell everyone I gave you a sticky maple."

"Jeez I won't tell a soul," Veronica said, holding up her hands to show that her fingers weren't crossed.

Reggie met her eyes and nodded.

"Anyway," Reggie continued. "I was so excited that he was coming home and I planned this whole Father and son night. We were going to go bowling and then watch an action movie. But when he got home he walked int the door and he looked at me and he said," Reggie changed his voice to a fake deep level to imitate his dad. "Hi, son. I wanted to let you know you'll need to be out of the house tonight because your Mother and I are having company."

"Ouch," Veronica said. "That stings."

She wanted to ask him if this had been tonight. Maybe that's why he'd texted her. He needed to get out of the house.

"Yeah," Reggie admitted. He looked away from her, uncomfortable. She put her hands on his shoulder, trying to get him to face her again.

"Hey," she said. "I've never told anyone this, not even Betty. But you know that car my Dad got me for my sixteenth birthday?"

"Yeah of course," Reggie said. "That's a swell car. You were so proud of that beauty when you got it. You showed it to everyone."

"Yeah," Veronica agreed. "Well, he only got it for me because he totally forgot it was even my birthday. To overcompensate, he got me the car last minute."

"Ouch," Reggie said, echoing Veronica’s reaction to his story.

They shared a look that was filled with all the emotions they were both trying to hide.

"Hey, Reggie?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"I'm really glad you decided to come over tonight."

"Me too."

#reggie mantle #veronica lodge #riverdale #archie comics #reggie x veronica #veronica x reggie #not sure what their ship name would be?

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bbyboyycal · 4 years

Text

i wrote a thing based on the song ‘heather’

It began and ended with Sully.

It was always going to be him.

And I realised this when I was lying upside down off the edge of his bed, the room basked in the golden hue of his desk light, the Xbox throwing out a continuous stream of various noises as he played on it, unaware of the ache in my heart. It filled the room with a purple melancholy that only I could see and that thought hurt more than anything, I think.

“Wilf mate, its no use you coming round to play Xbox if you don’t actually play it - I need backup.”

I sighed and picked up the controller, it looked smaller in his hands than mine, but he was a couple of inches taller than me so it would make sense. His eyes were focused on the screen and I couldn’t help but stare at them, the green flickering between sections of the digital map, his brain visibly working hard, I wondered if he knew I was looking at him - I doubt it, he didn’t notice anything.

Maybe that was what made it so easy to love him and to cope with him never loving me back, he just didn’t notice, he was so innocent to it all.

His knee brushed mine and he leant against me as he tried to veer his soldier to the right, I laughed gently at him, but the slight touch send shivers running up my back, his hands so close to mine that I could reach out and grab one, interlace our fingers and never let go - twined in an endless grip.

“You alright?” He questioned, pulling me out of my daydream.

I nodded, “Just a bit cold that’s all.”

Liar.

I was anything but cold, flustered with a rapid pulse was probably the best way to describe it.

“Oh I was meant to give you this ages ago, I never wear it n’ thought you might like it.” He explains as he passes me a navy blue jumper with red stitching on - it looked like a vintage-style college sweater, it was nice.

I thanked him, taking it and trying not to focus on the quick brush of our hands as he passed it to me. Pulling it over my head I inhaled deeply (and not too obviously), taking in his familiar smell, the comfort of him washing over me.

“It looks better on you than it does me mate, keep it.” He said, patting my shoulder and turning back to the screen.

My heart swelled, sitting swollen in the middle of my chest, my ears burning with a bright blush and my fingers tingled as I attempted to focus on the game at hand, rather than him.

Sleeping on the floor that night, surrounded by the scent of mint and Tom Ford, I snuggled deeper into the sweater, taking long breaths, swamped in thoughts of unrequited love and Sully.

School dragged itself into Monday, the halls filled with muffled laughter and distant chattering as I could only focus on one person. But it all changed that day.

“Well, she texted me that and then I had to reply-” I tuned out Sully’s response to some dumb question one of the other boys asked, I should of been listening to because whatever he said awarded him with a round of clap on the backs and daps, I frowned feeling out of the loop.

“Wait, bro, here she comes,” Arthur said, and I followed their eyes to where a caramel haired girl walked with her friends - she held her books to her chest, eyes bright and angelic, as she seemed to float over everyone else, unaware of the eyes on her while she spoke to her friends. The four of them deep in a conversation that wasn’t privy to the surrounding eyes. Her eyes, however, darted up to meet Sullys, dark chocolate meeting sea glass. She smiled coyly, almost shyly, her blush a peachy pink colour enveloping the freckles on her nose.

Sully elbowed me, “Back off Wilf, Heather’s mine.” He winked and took off in a jog down the hall to her, stopping outside her locker where she now stood, wide-eyed and staring up at him as he smiled down at her.

All I could do was stand on numb legs and watch it unfold.

At lunch he gave me his orange juice, I don’t know why he bought it when we all know he hates it, I thanked him but didn’t touch it, hoping with unfaithfulness that he would understand I was in a mood - he didn’t.

The conversations surrounding me were hollow, and I couldn’t focus my attention on one long enough to understand any of them. The room felt a mossy green, jealousy clinging to my very being, when Heather cut through it with her short skirt and glossy hair. The sun shining behind her, lighting her up in a halo of pure gold, the earth bending around her, fitting around her.

Sully’s face lit up and my heart dimmed as he pushed Dan out of the seat beside him, pulling her by the wrist to sit there, she giggled a melodic sound and I hated that it felt so naturally calming - her voice matching. She spoke about something Mr Nancy had said in her English Lit class and everyone listened, well, Sully listened, the rest of the boys nudged each other and spoke in low voices, rumblings across the table about how whipped Sullivan was over this girl, and defences of how she was peng so he had the right to be.

“She’s kinda got an angel vibe though, don’t you think. Like you could tell me she was an angel and I’d be like, yeah, adds up.”

I rolled my eyes and stood up from the table, leaving the orange juice and curious eyes behind.

Sully: r u good

Me: yh fine why

Sully: u just left @ lunch??

Me: I had to go talk to Miss Clain abt some dumb hw

Sully: aight, as long as ur good

Me: yh i’m good :)

Sully: sick one

Sully: do u like heather

Me: wdym

Sully: r u pissed im moving her

Me: no

Me: why would i be

Sully: dw

My heart jumped.

Did he know? Had he finally realised?

With pins and needles in my lips and a clenched feeling in my stomach I looked up when I heard footsteps on the pavement.

“I was worried you liked her and was annoyed I was chatting to her.” He panted.

I laughed, relief flooding my veins, only for a second though as I considered how much he appeared to like this girl.

He wasn’t usually like this with them, he usually just talked to them over a weekend and then aired them in school, she seemed different - this seemed different.

“No not at all, I told you I just had to talk about homework.”

He nodded, “I really like her, you know? She properly is so cool, I’m whipped.” He laughed at himself and I became numb to everything he said on the way back to his house, his constant stream of talk about her sticking into my heart, one shard at a time.

Friday night called for a party at Danny’s - allegedly head told his parents it was just meant to be the boys, but as soon as they left on their weekend away the house became a bustling mass of people.

She was here, wrapped up in his arms, hands around his neck, his own hands on her tiny waist, her pretty face close to his as they whispered to each other secrets that I would never know. That I couldn’t be trusted with.

My gnawing heart took a hold of me as I downed my second cup of - something - and moved out onto the patio to play beer pong with Jude and Thea’s group of friends.

The room span in a technicolour but all I could focus on was Sully and Heather.

All I could see was fingers intertwined, the ring on his index clashing with the rings on her fingers, her dainty little hands, that fit so perfectly into his.

I followed her fingers to her hand and then her wrist, everything about her small, everything about her longing to be folded up into the perfect space within Sully.

I frowned as her hand was covered by the long sleeve of the sweater she was wearing - that wasn’t hers. That belonged to the boy currently looking at me with his head resting on top of her head.

He smiled dopily at me, but not in a drunk way, not in the way I longed for him to - if he was drunk then it would be fine, he wouldn’t know what he was doing, he would be smiling freely and dopily like that and being drunk would explain it.

But he was driving tonight - he wasn’t drunk.

He smiled like he was in love.

The room span when I moved, but I continued towards them, willing my feet to move like a sober person’s would.

“Wilf,” Heather greeted me, pulling me into a hug and I willed every part of myself to like her, to be happy for Sully that he had found someone this kind and lovely, that he had found a girl who mirrored his dopey love smile, that was calming in a stormy hallway - but a bigger part of me hated her because she wasn’t me.

I wasn’t her.

“Hey, nice sweater, it looks familiar?” I asked as though I hadn’t seen the crimson coloured fabric on Sully most days of the week - it was his favourite, he rarely let me wear it, and on the occasions, he did he was so protective of it.

“Yeah you have mate, it’s mine, you know that, don’t be a dipshit.” He smirked at me and I punched his shoulder in a jokey manner, wanting to keep my hand there, wanting to just touch him in any way I could.

“Oh shit yeah! I thought I was your ‘hand-me-down collector’ though?” Hoping my voice wasn’t tinged with the jealousy that shrouded my every cell at that moment.

“But Heather just looks so pretty in it, don’t you think?” He asked, pulling her closer to him, making her little nose scrunch up as she curled into the specific place for her in his chest.

They fit so well together.

I shook my head while forcing a smile and excused myself to go to the garden, finding Nate (a boy I had gotten with before) and pulling him into the space between the shed and the back fence.

His kiss didn’t fuel anything within me, I just needed a place to put my emotions for the night, someone else to cling to before I was consumed by this neverending ache within me.

Hours later on the way home Sully wouldn’t shut up about her. Everything he said was about her and I started to wonder if this is what I sounded like talking about him to other people.

He was in awe of the celestial being that was Heather McGraw and I couldn’t escape the bombarding emotions wrecking my body and soul.

“Just stop!” I screamed, Sully’s head whipped round the smile on his face dropping and it shattered my heart to know I had had that effect on him.

“What? Are you okay?”

No response

“Wilf, mate, what’s wrong?”

We had stopped on the side of a road and I took it as an opportunity to escape his stare - swinging open the door I bolted from the car, feet slapping the pavement, a light summer drizzle beginning to set in.

“Wilf! Stop!”

I heard him running behind me but didn’t stop until I was halfway out of breath trying to figure out what I had to say to him.

All I could think of was, “You gave her your sweater.”

I said it bluntly and through my heavy breathing I heard the tinged pain that had been so evident for weeks now - a build up of negative energy and heartache and everything that made me jealous of her.

Sully looked at me, hand reached out to touch my shoulder, to tell me to stop, to calm down, to slow my breathing - but I shrugged him off, knowing if he touched me he would hug me. Hoping it would make him stop.

But he didn’t, he strode forward a step and wrapped his arms around me. I hit his chest, crying, pleading with him to just let me go.

“Not until you let me what’s wrong.”

My voice broken apart by my crying, “You gave her your sweater, Sully. Your sweater.”

“I-My sweater?”

I nodded against his shoulder, waiting for his response.

“My sweater?” He asked again, it not connecting in his head, “It’s just a sweater, just simple polyester?”

I yanked myself out of his arms, hating that he wasn’t getting it, hating myself more.

“You like her though, right?” I shouted, rage covering up the pain, if I could channel anger, I wouldn’t have to think about the hurt.

If I could hate him, I could stop loving him.

“Of course I like her? Why are you being like this? What’s going on?”

“You like her more than me.” I said matter-of-factly, “You like her better.”

He shook his head, confusion written deep within his green eyes and sharp features.

“Wilf-”

He still wasn’t getting it. He still didn’t understand who I was. He still didn’t get how much I loved him.

Cutting him off I grabbed his face in my hands, pulling him into a kiss.

Trying to tell him everything.

He didn’t kiss me back.

I pulled away, face red with embarrassment.

Hanging my head, I whispered, “I’m sorry I’m not her. I wish I was her.”

Then leaving him there, in the dark, the rain turning to showers, streetlights basking the world in a tungsten glow, I sprinted - willing my legs to carry me away, willing them to make me forget how much I wish I were Heather.”

#my british ass really jumped out with some of the slang words tbf #'moving' just means chatting to

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