#plus the two of them didn’t really get to do much
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yes im changing
paige bueckers x reader
(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)
synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?
masterlist
chap 4
y/n pov:
okay scratch that. i would have to do all athletes. okay new research:
a comparative research on the academic resilience of students and students part of the basketball team in the university of connecticut.
much better. i can have more focus on the people in my research. and plus, the basketball teams are the most known in uconn, which could make them have different perspectives. but first.. i would have to ask their coach first. i may ask aubrey if she can bring me to their coach, his name is coach geno..?
after their training (and an hour of peyton giggling), i went up to aubrey and told her about my research.
“yeah! i could definitely ask coach geno, he’s in the other room though to get his stuff, but he’ll come back soon” aubrey replied with enthusiasm. “thats great! thanks aubrey. i would also have to ask the men’s basketball coach, but ill check tomorrow since its already late” i mentioned. aubrey and i got to talk a little bit more, aubrey asking me why i was even in their training the first place.
i said that peyton’s crush is in the team, which made aubrey laugh. when we both looked behind to peyton, we see her talking to azzi. smooth ass..
coach geno finally got out of the other room, and aubrey introduced me to him.
“oh coach! this is y/n, and she has a small favor to ask” aubrey says. “hello coach geno! i am a freshman taking psychology, and i wanted to ask if i could have your team to be part of my research” i smiled.
“what’s it about?”
“their resistancy in regards to their school work sir”
“will it hinder their skills?”
“no sir”
“how long will this take?”
“maximum of a month i believe, but it still depends”
“as long as the team says yes and it wont be a distraction, then im all for it. goodluck y/n, and welcome to uconn!” coach geno replied with a small smile. “thank you sir! it means a lot” i smiled back.
i went back to peyton, who was talking to azzi, and introduced me to her. azzi then introduced me to the other players— to nika, kk, paige, and caroline. i guess i still needed a formal greeting even with the event that happened yesterday.
i then proceeded to ask the whole team about my research idea, and they were all willing to help me. just needed to contact the men’s basketball team now.
after small talks, we all headed back to our dorms. i feel better with the team already, they’re all quite playful, just have to ignore that one blonde, paige. we haven’t talked a word to each other, and i won’t mind if we don’t talk at all.
when we arrived to the dorms area, we all bid our goodbyes to some of the members and the others headed to the same dorm building as me. turns out that everyone that has the same dorm as me lives on the same floor as me.. this will be fun. my “floormates” are nika, ashlynn, ice, kk, and paige. azzi along with caroline and the others were at another dorm building.
we all bid our goodnights, and aubrey and i went inside our dorm. we both were too tired, and got unready and head to our beds quick.
“goodnight y/n!”
“goodnight aubs”
the next week
the last days were great. men’s basketball team is on board with my research, and my introduction and rrl is surprisingly done.
today, i will start to interview the women’s basketball team, and i am thinking of doing observations with them as well— like having group study sessions and know their behavior and thoughts.
its now 2pm, two hours before the team’s training, which gives me enough time to interview some people. i text aubrey saying that im near their court, and was asking who i can interview first.
aubrey: paige is free
goddamn it.
oh well, let’s just get this over with. i open the court’s entrance, the team seeing me and greeting me.
“so, who can go first?” i ask the team, i really didn’t want paige, she will just give me negative energy for the rest of the day. she is always so.. negative towards me.
“i dont think we can.. coach wants us to do 25 laps as penalty! but since paige wasn’t there when the team was goofing around.. she’s free” azzi explained. “what did you guys even do that made coach geno be in fumes?” i asked.
“teased coach about paige dating on of his children.. they’re our age though” aubrey steps in. “oh id send you guys to 25 laps as well” i joked. “whatever!” azzi says.
i told paige to come with me the the bleachers, still being nonchalant.
“so where do we begin..” i hummed. i could feel that paige felt awkward
“name?” i started.
“paige bueckers”
“year?”
“im a junior”
she’s 2 years older than me.
“current gpa?”
“3.9”
not bad.
“workloard in school?”
“atleast 5 worksheets and 2 tests per week”
“can you finish them on time?”
“depends”
“what’s your hardest subject?”
“chemistry”
“favorite subject?”
“anatomy”
“okay that’s all for now. we still have more interviews in the future, and a possible group study session with the others. thank you!” i tell paige.
“thanks” paige coldly replies.
after an interview with aubrey, azzi, and the others, i wrapped it up, just in time for them to do their own preps before training. i was looking for a water dispenser as i was thirsty. i passed by the locker room and heard a voice.
“what is she even doing here? can’t she do her studies somewhere else? we don’t need her bro” the voice stated, which i think was pertaining to me.
“paige, just be kind. its a freshman’s research, you know how tough some professors are with the freshmans, they would have to give their best” another voice replied back.
“whatever, let’s just get to practice” paige scoffs. i rolled by eyes and realized that it was my signal to go, i didn’t want them to see me. i quickly got my water and got out of the court, thanking coach geno and the other members who were just sitting on the bleachers.
as i walk, i start to feel discouraged. i just want to do what’s best for me, and a person who doesn’t know me just talks bad about what im doing. i guess i just have to suck it up, i have no time for negativity anyways. just focus on being able to transfer to stanford.
uconn, your star is not-so shining to me.
- zo’s notes: hello, i hope everyone is enjoying reading my fic :)
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Wheel says:
Vaggie and Lucifer
Idea: Lucifer requests to talk with Vaggie about something, while Vaggie has something on her mind as well.
Words: 461
Should she tell him? Well, everyone already knew, maybe he did too? Plus, she didn’t really want to bring it up, but she also didn’t want him to find out and feel like Charlie did. She didn’t want to keep secrets.
Vaggie elects to just wait until a moment presents itself, best to just say it when the two are alone. Though she did not expect the moment to present itself that same day. Charlie had informed her that Lucifer had something he wanted to discuss, with her, only her.
‘Oh no.’ Where her first thoughts, it just felt like it couldn’t be anything good. What could he ever want to discuss with her? And why would he want to do it with Charlie explicitly not present.
What if...? He was the devil after all, maybe all the horrors she’s been told when up high did have an iota of truth? There’s no way he was actually just some guy. Maybe he was just like that when around Charlie? Maybe, she felt a fear come over her, maybe he wanted to give her a stern talking too. Just inform her of what mattered and that she didn’t. That if she ever hurt Charlie, he would-
No no, she shakes her head. He’s not like that... right? She can’t fully shake the nagging feeling away. It all just reminds her too much of things she rather just forget, of words so loud she could almost feel them hit, of pains so deep they will never fully heal. Her hand hovered over the x that was once her eye. It’s all in the past, she reminds herself. It’s all in the past.
She soon finds herself at his door, his room in the newly built hotel. She’s just about to knock when a thought hits her. She has hurt Charlie before, and it led to Charlie making a deal with Alastor. It’s something she regrets immensely, that she never told Charlie of her past, but that doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change the fact that Charlie did get hurt. So, what if Charlie told him about it all? Vaggie was starting to spiral back to her initial thoughts, she didn’t want to believe that her beloved would devolve something like that, but that doesn’t change the fact that that’s where the thoughts went.
The door swung open, “Vaggie!”, he got her name right. Wait, does that mean that Charlie had been talking about her? Wait, no, yes, probably, though I’m sure it was only good things, right?
She straightened her posture and greeted the man, “Heard you wanted to talk with me?” Her voice sounded steady, but she felt far from it. Her mind having poisoned her whole perception of the situation.
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Well, similar to the first one with Vox and Charlie, the interaction is more something that would happen in the next scen. Guess that means I lied again ᵔᵜᵔ Though these are just small exersises, so maybe that's fine
As spoilers, my idea is that Vaggie wants to tell that she was once an exorsist and Lucifer just wants ideas over what Charlie likes. So it would end with them bonding at least. So maybe I didn't fully lie?
Anyway, time to spin
Next two are:
Mimzy and Husk
Oh. That sounds like an interacting best fitted for the past. Wonder what it could be though? They didn't really interact too much in the show and Husk doesn't seem to have the best perseption of Mimzy, the number one trouble maker.
#hazbin hotel#the hazbin hotel#hazbin#ᵔᵜᵔ Writings#The Hazbin Spin Wheel#hazbin vaggie#hazbin lucifer#vaggie#hazbin charlie#chaggie#lucifer morningstar#charlie morningstar
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You cough and wave dust away from your face, eyes watering as you fish for the folded up letter you���d previously shoved into your back pocket. The man that’d picked you up from the bus stop was kind, but you couldn’t tell which was older; him, or the spluttering truck he drove. It made for difficult, hardly held conversation. Not because you’re shy or weren’t curious, but because the truck had been loud, and the man a bit hard of hearing. He’d had a warm smile as he waved goodbye to you though, tinged with a little red. However, before you could ask, or even so much as thank the guy, his truck was off down the road, kicking up dirt.
His barely held together tailgate read, in bold but faded white letters, “Plus Ultra!”
When you can see and breathe clearly again, you unfold the paper in your hands and double check the address you’d been given. You’d been to the property before, of course, but a long, long time ago. Honestly, it felt like a lifetime ago – your childhood. Even then, you can’t really remember the place beyond a couple of random, core memories. Like falling asleep on both the way there and the way back, safe and comfortable, lulled unconscious by the quiet conversation of your parents and the rhythmic rocking of the car. You could’ve made more memories there – here. You’d been invited well into your teen years, for holidays and summer breaks and special occasions. And it’s not that you didn’t love your aunt, the one who used to live here; her and her ‘best friend’ though everyone in the family knew better. You still love her, love them. Hard not to with just how crazy they could be – like the two of them buying a farm out in the middle of nowhere, and thinking they could keep up with it.
They’d done surprisingly well, up until randomly deciding to travel the world before permanently settling down.
You’re pretty sure they eloped.
You’re like, ninety-nine percent positive that they’re currently on their honeymoon.
Just best friend things.
You probably could’ve been closer to them, if you’d just given them the chance. But, you were young. You had classes and friends and hobbies at the time that you’d just considered too cool to pass up. Now all gone, for one reason or another, which is why you’re even here. Why you’d reached out to your aunt in the first place. It was the perfect opportunity. They’d more or less left the property abandoned, and you were in desperate need of an escape. A reset.
That all depends on that more or less, though.
Apparently, your aunt had hired a farmhand at some point. And, said farmhand still lived there. Here. Not in the house or anything, but in his own little trailer, supposedly. Parked somewhere rather permanently on the property. In the letter, your aunt had described him as ‘a bit standoffish’ but with ‘a heart of gold’. Then followed that up by saying that if you didn’t like him, well. ‘Tough shit. Leave.’ Whether you liked him or not didn’t really matter. You didn’t come here to make friends. You didn’t come here to get to know anyone else other than yourself.
So, you figure, as long as he stays out of your way, you’ll do your best to stay out of his.
Which…
Ends up being almost eerily easy.
#aizawa x reader#aizawa x y/n#gender neutral reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa#not based on a tiktok but something so much worse#Blame it on The Bestie#Bugs#Bees#Insects#Beekeeping#Apiculture#Apiarist Aizawa#Farm AU#TW: Murder#TW: Suicide
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It’s a completely missed opportunity that Klaus wasn’t stuck with the ghosts of the dead Sparrow Academy members. Klaus is even seen kneeling over Alphonso and Jayme after they die !! I immediately thought of the chaos that would ensue of Klaus being the only one still able to talk to the two of them. Refusing to forward messages like he used to do to Ben. Being let in on everything they say. Even an obligatory climax where ghost Jayme and Alphonso help save the day if you really want
I could so easily see Klaus being stuck with Jayme and Alphonso while they’re arguing and he just screams at them to shut up. Then all the other siblings look at him completely confused. Could even throw in a line like “he does that a lot” from one of the other umbrellas
It would also be a natural way to make the two families need to work together; they need Klaus for the Sparrows to even communicate. They also call him the weak point of the group after the initial fight since his powers aren’t super combat-friendly. If he actually had to use his powers it would give him a way bigger purpose for both groups
#plus he could still be immortal along with this#i can imagine the scenes between the three of them so clearly#plus the two of them didn’t really get to do much#i just want more klaus scenes honestly#watch the whole show for him#klaus hargreeves#jayme hargreeves#alphonso hargreeves#tua#the umbrella academy#s3#tua s3 spoilers#the umbrella academy s3#spoilers#guys i feel clever for coming up with this
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I think my favorite thing about “Candy Coated Rocks” is that you can just tell how much FUN both pearl and marina sound like they’re having while singing it. They look so happy in the art posted too. They’ve found their people helping them with this new change it seems they both settled on, they found the direction they want to take together, and they’re living it to the fullest extent!! A bit more of analysis in the tags
#Marina didn’t want things to change between them while Pearl wanted to expand into new genres#and I just think damp socks is their perfect balance of it#since we don’t know much I’m making a lot of assumptions here#but I wanna just go ahead and assume the people they found while on tour to join them are people they really click with#probably with similar taste and goals and personalities that mesh with the two to want to let them join#plus the ‘feat. off the hook’ shows that pearl and marina still got each other despite all that#they’re part of a band but at the same time they’re with the band#the incredibly strong bond between them isn’t going anywhere and they still get to do what they love with who they love#with some new people to help them out and shake things up the way pearl wanted along with them#while keeping that balance marina wanted#it’s the perfect mix of chaos and order!!!!#splatoon#splatoon 2#splatoon 3#pearlina#pearl#marina#damp socks#damp socks feat off the hook
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Dp x dc prompt
So this starts with Danny becoming the ghost king on his 18th birthday and almost immediately every power-hungry ghost in existence starts proposing to him. At first he just ignores it but after the 10th time someone tries to kidnap him to marry him Greek god style, he’s fucking sick of it and goes to Clockwork for help.
He’s not much help. The only way for other people to stop trying to marry him is if he’s already married. What’s more, because he’s the king of the infinite realms, it has to be someone that’s considered a citizen of the Infinite Realms. (Like he can marry someone that’s still alive but they wouldn’t count and people will just keep trying to marry him) CW also warns him that people will try and kill anyone he marries if they can so a living person isn’t really ideal. The only bit of real helpfulness he does provide is a list of non-evil non-power-hungry citizens so he can have an easier time finding someone.
So Danny takes the list and starts crossing of names (like Johnny, even tho the guy won’t abuse the power of being the ghost princess, kitty would kill Danny for good this time) when he comes across the perfect candidate.
Jason Todd (Robin/Red Hood)
He’s been to Gotham before, knows the Robins all do good work and knows the Red Hood is already a good and fair ruler of his criminal underground. Plus the guy could definitely fight off any ghost trying to kill him even without the power boost and some helpful weapons Danny would give him if he agrees. Plus he has the perfect bargaining chip to get the guy to help by offering to fix the corrupted ectoplasm in him (not that he wasn’t gonna do that anyway when he had the time to but Hood didn’t need to know that)
So Danny hops over to Gotham and after quickly getting permission from Lady Gotham (she’s very protective of her Knights) heads over to crime ally and pitches the idea to Red Hood.
Which basically goes like-
Danny: so I give u, the title of prince, access to the Infinite Realms whenever u wish, a sweet private wing in my castle, any of the op ghost weapons in the castles armoury and a fix for ur rage problems and u marry me so I stop getting people trying to propose to me in increasingly more annoying ways :)
Jason, a literature geek with a secret desire to be the protagonist in a shitty YA romance: u had me at Prince
So the two of then jump over to the Infinite Realms to get married thinking it’ll take 30 minutes top only to learn that CW left out that a Royal wedding has to take at minimum a week otherwise no one will consider the Marriage valid. So the two, not backing out at this point, join in on the week of parties and celebrations without putting much more thought into it.
Meanwhile back in Gotham, after not having Red Hood check in after his patrol, Oracle searches CCTV and finds Jason having a conversation with a figure that is glitching out the camera to much to identify them, then the figure seemingly grabs Jason and drags him into a portal and the two of them disappear.
So obviously the Batfam comes to the conclusion that Jason was kidnapped by some sort of magical being and calls in John. He identify the magic as that of the ghost king’s and has been hearing that the king had been looking for a bride so comes to the conclusion that Jason has been kidnapped Persephone style to be be married and is under the (wrong) conclusion that it will mean Jason can’t leave the realm of the death after.
And so the Batfam + Constantine start planing to crash a wedding.
#dp x dc#danny fenton#jason todd#jason x danny#dead on main#batfam#Danny and Jason r basically Hades and Persephone#at least in the Batfam a POV#jason is having the time of his life#fake dating#kinda???#more like marriage for tax benefits
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You have so graciously written multiple of my asks 🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you for doing them justice!!! 👁️👅👁️
I’m living for the alastor with cannibal reader!
What about the gang at the hotel sees alastor with a pretty new thing around his arm and she is just !!!!stunning!!! Like dark elegant (yet terrifying) grace. And everyone is like ????how did this old ass radio demon pull someone like you???
But they realize exactly why they fit so perfect when she kills someone (maybe defending the hotel) and just munches down on their corpse crazy style. Turning around, blood on their face, in their teeth with a wide smile like “I helped!!!” And then it clicks that she’s also a cannibal like him.
Everyone is all grossed out by it but Al thinks she has never looked prettier all covered in blood from her kill and meal. He even Wipes her face for her 😗😗😗
IM HAPPY THAT I HAVE DONE SO MANY OF YOUR REQUESTS AND YOU ENJOYED THEM!!!! I hope that i did this one justice.
Truly there was no way.
Their eyes HAD to be deceiving them.
Alastor had left the hotel to go on one of his outings but the gang was just too curious as to where the Overlord was going.
So like the mischievous nosy bunch they were; they followed him.
They followed him to a lovely restaurant and watched in shock as the waiter seated Alastor and the most beautiful demon they had ever seen.
Truly there was no way.
There was no way that ALASTOR was chatting up such a beautiful dame and NOT being creepy.
They watched from afar as Alastor pulled out a small box, presumingly a gift, and give you a genuine smile as you gawked and playfully glared at him before accepting it with a soft smile.
You were stunning!
You must have died from an earlier time period as you were dressed in very modest attire.
A puffy white blouse tucked into a long black skirt, waist tapered by a corset to show off your curves.
Your neck and ears wore pearls and your hair was curled and pinned up.
The epitome of grace and elegance.
How the hell did that old fossil bag you???
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
”Oh Alastor! You didn’t have to!” You gasped as he presented a small gift box to you.
The red charmer demon smiled as you opened the box to see he had got you some customized jewelry.
The Radio Demon had been courting you for a while.
Sending you flowers and taking you out on several outings throughout the Pride Ring.
It took you a while to warm up to him, but he did have a way with persuasion Rosie told you he was a great guy and your bestie would never lie. Plus Alastor had been asking her about you
“Oh it was nothing my dear! A beautiful lady should have beautiful things. I thought it would compliment that new dress you got” Ah what a charmer.
As the two of you chatted and enjoyed each other's company, you had an eerie feeling you were being watched.
You shook off the feeling, it wasn’t too off putting as many people often staring as you accompanied the demon.
Besides, no one dared to approach the two of you anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alastor had asked you to come to the hotel so he could show you around.
He really only wanted you to meet the Princess, but the whole hotel was in attendance when Alastor opened the door to reveal you.
“No way Freaky Face bagged a broad like this?” Angel commented, causing Nifty giggled while the rest of the gang watched as Alastor showed you around.
All was going well…until there was a loud banging at the door.
rude much?
“Angel we know you’re here!” A voice shouted as the banging got louder.
You turned to see the tall spider start to shake a bit.
You patted his arm and motioned him to take a seat and reassured him that all will be well.
Vaggie hissed as a window was knocked out.
”Oi come on out! Valentino wants to see you! We don’t mind using force whorebug!”
You felt your eye twitch.
the gang was trying to think of a way to get rid of them.
They were going to tear the hotel apart at this rate.
Charlie protested as you made your way to the lobby double doors and swung them open.
”Why hello gentlemen, is there a reason for such distasteful actions?” You smiled, but it was anything but friendly.
You took a step forward, a dark aura manifested around you as your eyes glows and teeth sharpened.
”Take her out boys! I’m sure the boss man would like a new toy!”
oh poor things.
You launched at the unexpected demon, sharp teeth at his neck and with a quick yank, his head was gone.
You heard horrified gasps as you moved to dispatch each disgusting creature.
”Ooh my dear you shouldn’t have” you heard Alastor say.
The gang had poked their heads out the front door and was shocked. There were dead bodies everywhere on the front lawn, bodies parts littering the ground.
Angel and Vaggie gagged as they saw you, teeth deep,in a poor demon. You were shaking it like a dog would with a toy, until it flung out of your mouth, leaving your mouth bloody.
”OOH that’s sick so fucking sick!”
You grinned at Alastor, sharp teeth white a pale contrast to the bright blood smeared on your face .
You shyly tucked a strand of loose hair, standing to dust yourself off. “Ooh i do apologize Alastor. They were just being rude and ruining the exterior! Such disgusting things! They didn’t even deserve the grace to be eaten! How dare they try to-”
You were pulled from your murderous ramble by a soft cloth on your face. You blinked, eyes focusing on Alastor’s smiling face.
”Knew you would look good in red”
You blushed as he wiped the blood from your chin.
”Oh stop it. You know red doesn’t suit me” you playfully hit his chest. He hummed, ignoring your comment as he cleaned your face.
”I think you look ravishing’ he purred as he licked your blood-stained cheek.
You giggled and held up a liver for him to bite.
In the background the gang was flabbergasted.
so that was HOW Alastor bagged a bad bitch?
shes a fucking cannibal…huh who would have knew?
Well you had to be some sort of freaky to be entertaining the Radio Demon.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor x y/n#alastor smut#hazbin hotel fluff#alastor fluff#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagines
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Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!
shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug
Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him.
Plus, you’re awfully shy.
Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days.
But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea.
“What flavour do you have today?” he asks.
You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle.
Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight.
“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?”
You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask.
“Three, two, one.”
You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy.
He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him.
“What?” he asks, perturbed.
“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option.
It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again.
“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?”
“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.”
“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.”
You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret.
Spencer waits.
“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out.
“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised.
“If that’s okay.”
“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.”
“Really?”
He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder.
You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him.
“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly.
“You don’t like touching.”
“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.”
“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh.
Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?”
“You’re really warm,” you murmur back.
Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”
“Or you’re just really, really warm.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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plsss do fem!reader getting a call from ethan!ghostface 😩 could be smutty or maybe 16+!! also ur writing is so good wtf
ahhh thank you so so much i'm glad u enjoy it! i rlly liked this request :)) this is SUGGESTIVE 16+ but not smut
Sometimes, truly, if you sit in silence for long enough, you start to consider that maybe you aren’t the best person, morals wise.
You have your good qualities: helping old ladies cross the street, dog sitting for your friends, helping out sick relatives, doing good deeds without having to be told so.
But the one bad trait, the one you were currently indulging in, seemed to outweigh everything that was good about you.
Allowing some sick joke between you and your boyfriend to continue.
As soon as Ethan switched from his usual, saccharine sweet voice, to the raspy, demanding tone of Ghostface, you should’ve told him to knock it off. Seriously. Not with that light, airy tone in your voice that showed how easily persuaded you are.
But you couldn’t help but let him convince you to continue. Plus, you could’ve pretended that you hated it. Instead…
“Isn’t your line supposed to be: ‘What’s your favorite scary movie’?”
Ethan, or Ghostface, chuckled.
“See, you know the rules, sweetheart. Now, what’s your favorite scary movie?”
You took a second to think, fiddling with the half completed puzzle that you and your roommates have been working on at the coffee table for two weeks now.
“Probably Get Out. Does that count?”
“Is that the one by that comedian, Jordan Peele?”
“Yeah. It’s not really that scary, which is why I like it, but the plot and storyline is horrifying enough.”
Ghostface hums and you decide to take a leap.
“My boyfriend likes those traditionally scary movies, with the jumpscares and excessive gore.”
He takes the bait. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”
“You didn’t ask.”
You take a seat on the couch, your eyes glancing over the window. Briefly, you considered drawing the curtains, but then Ghostface continued to speak.
“Hm, maybe I should’ve. Does he treat a pretty girl like you right?”
“Yeah, yeah, he does.” A beat. “How do you know I’m pretty?”
“Because I’m looking at you, sweetheart.”
Your breath hitched. You should have known as much, but just considering the possibility is one thing, having it confirmed is another.
Attempting to play it cool, you stand to your feet and approach the window. “Really? Because I’m calling bullshit.”
You pressed your face to the glass and used the hand that didn’t hold your phone to your ear to shield your view from the light inside of your apartment. You scanned the streets below, the windows across from yours, and anything else your eyes could reach, but you couldn’t see anything. It was late, there wasn’t much activity in your complex, and the streetlight that previously illuminated your section of the complex was still out.
Ghostface chuckled condescendingly. “There’s no point in looking. You won’t find me.”
Stepping away from the window, you surveyed the apartment. Nothing there, save for the organized mess left by yourself and your roommates.
“But you can trust my word. I see how delicious you look in that little number. That tight shirt, those tiny shorts. Looking like a whore, begging to be fucked,” he spat the last bit as if the words were venomous. "maybe gutted," he toyed with the idea, “your boyfriend know you walk around like that?”
Your eyes met the cameras in your apartment, the ones that your roommates decided were needed in this big city. You’d never been more thankful to have them.
“He does,” you took a seat on the couch again, propping your feet up onto the coffee table and positioning yourself to where you could be seen by the camera. Your legs crossed, and you ran a hand along your thigh. “And he loves it. If he could see me right now I bet he would be cumming in his pants.”
There was a hitch in his voice, barely noticeable, but there.
You took his hesitation to spread your legs and trail a hand down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flitted up to the camera, you smiled softly, lifted your hand in a wave, then stuck it into your shorts.
“You said you’re watching me, right, Ghostface?”
#ethansworld!#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry smut#ethan landry x you#ghostface x reader#ghostface smut#ghostface x you#celeste writes scream
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Hii I’d like to request Regina having a crush on reader but reader has a hard time liking her back cause of what was written about reader in the burn book (with a fluff ending??) thank you!
Who Wrote This? (Regina George X Reader)
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Summary: Even though all that had happened junior year was forgiven, what was written about you in that wretched burn book still tugged at you mind. It makes it hard for you to warm up to Regina, who just wants to be with you.
A/N: regina wrote mean ass shit in the burn book so a warning for that ig
***
“Regina, if you keep staring at her, she might think you’re crazy.” The lacrosse team giggled as they watched Regina watch you. She was packing her bag after practice when she caught sight of you coming out of the school library.
“Oh, shut up.” She said, not bothering to take her eyes off of you.
This wasn’t the first time Regina’s friends had caught her looking at you. Ever since sophomore year, after being sat next to you in one of her classes, it was like she couldn’t get you out of her head. No matter how many boyfriends, or more like boy toys, she had, or how many people she slept with. When it was all over, she still thought about you, who was nothing but kind and sweet to her despite her reputation of being an evil Plastic.
“When are you gonna go talk to her?” Dina, one of Regina’s teammates, nudged her arm. “You’re clearly, like, in love with her.”
“I can’t.” She answered, now somber. “I’m pretty sure she completely hates me.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but Regina didn’t know that. From how you acted now, like she repulsed you, it seemed like you despised her. And she knew it was all her fault.
Everyone except for you had gotten over what was written about them in the burn book. The moment you read what had been written about you, what people seemed to think of you, you realized that Regina George was a two-faced mega bitch and would never change. It didn’t matter how nice you were, or how many notes or pens you had let her borrow, or how genuine she seemed around you. She would always think she was above everyone, and the people below were as meaningless and bothersome as gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
You knew she was different now, like she had really grown. But you didn’t buy it for a second. So you kept your distance, speeding off or changing seats whenever Regina tried getting close to you. Yet there was a small part of you that was hopeful about the fact that she was better now, that she wasn’t so mean.
After zipping up your bag, you looked up and locked eyes with Regina on the soccer field. Even though she was far away, she could see you clench your jaw before storming off to your car.
She couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how much you tried to avoid her, she needed to talk to you.
***
You loved spending your free period in the library. You were able to catch up on homework or studying without getting distracted. Plus, Regina never came in here.
You heard the door open but didn’t look up from your notebook, where you copied notes from your textbook. Footsteps came near you, but you figured they were going to a seat past you.
But then someone sat down in the chair next to you. You looked up in the confusion, but that soon turned into an expression of annoyance.
“Please,” Regina whispered, grabbing your wrist before you could try to back your things and leave. You glared at her, and she had to force herself not to wince at your harshness. “Please, Y/n, I just wanna talk.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Just hear me out.” Regina pleaded, trying to stay quiet. She scooted her chair closer to you, and was surprised that you didn’t lean back or scoot away. “Hear me out, and then when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.”
It pained her to promise you that, but she figured it was the only way you’d listen to her.
You stared at her momentarily before you sighed and relaxed slightly in your seat.
“Fine.” You said. “But make it quick.”
Regina nodded, trying to get her thoughts together. To be honest, she didn’t really think she’d make it this far.
“I’m sorry.” She started. “Really, really sorry. What I wrote about you in that book, I didn’t mean it, and I regret writing it every day. You were one of the only people in this school that I genuinely liked, and I ruined what little we had because I wrote something stupid.”
“It wasn’t stupid.” You interjected, bitterness in your tone. “It was mean, Regina.” You turned your seat to face her better. She was glad that you were finally looking at her without running away, but hated the look of disdain and hurt on your face. “I think about what you wrote about me every day. It’s practically burned into my brain at this point. ‘Y/n L/n is a skank that no one would touch with a ten-foot pole. That-’”
“‘That nerdy bitch will end up alone.’” Regina finished the quote, her voice meek and cheeks red from embarrassment. “I remember.”
“I’m glad you have such a good memory.” You said sarcastically. “If you wrote that about someone you say you genuinely liked, I wonder what you’d write about your own mother.”
“Y/n…” Regina sighed. This was definitely not going the way she had wanted. But at the same time, she expected this to be a sour interaction. “I didn’t mean what I wrote.”
“Oh really? What, was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut out my school picture and write that?”
“I had to write it, Y/n.” The absurdity of that statement shocked you into silence, so Regina took it as a chance to continue before you told her you didn’t want to hear it. “I put myself in there to frame Cady, Gretchen, and Karen for making the book. But then I remembered that you weren’t in there. I never wanted you in that book, but I didn’t want you to be blamed for it if Mr. Duvall realized you weren’t in it.”
“So…” You were trying to wrap your head around Regina’s words. “You wrote all that stuff… to protect me?”
“I hated every minute of it.” Regina seemed so serious; she looked so desperate for you to believe her. “It was so hard to write that, because I didn’t believe any of it. The truth is… I’ve actually liked you for a long time, Y/n.” You looked at her bewildered, and she took your silence as a cue to continue. “That’s why I had never put you in the book. I remember always pretending to forget or lose my pencils so I could talk to you because you’d always let me borrow yours. Or I’d leave one of my books at home, hoping that you’d share yours with me.” Regina took a deep breath, reminiscing on the little moments she had with you before she ruined it all. “It’s so corny, but I never felt as on top of the world as I did when you were talking to me.”
You stared at Regina, completely shocked. This was not at all what you were expecting when she begged you to listen to her. At the most, you thought it’d be a little apology, and then she’d leave. Instead, you had gotten a full-on love confession from Regina George, who, for the first time probably ever, looked scared as she waited for your response.
“I’ll leave you alone now.” She said after another minute of awkward silence. “I promise I won’t try to bother you anymore. And again, I’m really sorry.”
Regina stood up, but your hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked down at you to find that you were already staring at her.
“I…” You started, still trying to process the situation. “I guess I can forgive you. And I suppose I could give you another chance. You know, like a do-over.”
“Really?” Regina smiled hopefully, lowering back down into her chair. You realized your hand was still clasped around her arm, so you let go and cleared your throat.
“Yeah. I mean, after all, you gotta make it up to me. Emotional damages and all.”
You returned to the notes and textbook you had neglected, found where you had left off, and started writing again. Regina took this as her cue to leave, and she wondered what would happen after this. But before she could stand up again, your free hand drifted to hers on the table, pinky laying over hers. She smiled and curled her small finger around yours.
You stayed there until the end of your free period. And when the two of you went to your next class, which you shared, Regina was both relieved and ecstatic when you sat in the seat next to her without a second thought.
#agaypanic#regina george#regina george x reader#mean girls#mean girls x reader#rachel mcadams#rachel mcadams x reader#renee rapp#renee rapp x reader
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hii ^^ i looove your writing !! i’m so obsessed with this idea of best friend!eddie teaching virgin!reader how to give head😭😭😭 like maybe they’re watching a movie and a sex scene comes on and out of pure curiosity she’s like “i wonder how it feels…does it feel good?” and omg he would be so vocal, sweet, and instructional😭😭😭
Just call me Mr. Munson
rockstar!eddie munson x virgin best friend fem!reader
⚠️warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (m receiving), slight female masturbation, corruption kink, slight dom!eddie, very dirty talk, honestly just filth, no use of y/n, overuse of the nickname peach and baby, eddie’s soft for us, readers 20 while Eddie is 21, corroded coffin are in the infancy of their career thus nothing has really changed in eddies life.
wc: 3.7k
note: thank you so much @wdsara48 for the request and the kind words! I hope you enjoy, babe 💗 (remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
Your best friend is a rockstar, you always knew he’d make a name for himself with his music, you couldn’t have been more happy for him, but you also miss him like crazy when he’s on tour.
You’d always hang out with the guys when they’d get back; go out for drinks, have game nights at Eddie’s place which usually consisted of dnd, or hit up whatever party was happening that weekend.
The first couple of days were always the best, they would still be in their sex, drugs and rock and roll headspace, trying to adjust to normality after a crazy tour.
You knew all about their sexual escapades while away, of course they weren’t directly said to you, but to each other as you listened in, they’d occasionally throw you a look of remorse as if they’d ruin your virgin ears with their banter. Okay, so you were a virgin, it’s not like you can’t talk about sex though, you more often than not felt like their little sister and it drove you crazy.
You wanted to get some experience and maybe impress them with stories of your own, but when it came down to it, you chickened out. The thought of having sex with a random guy for the sake of gaining experience just didn’t sit right with you, and so you were never able to follow through with it.
You had always secretly hoped that Eddie would maybe teach you some stuff, you would replay possible conversations in your mind of how you’d want to ask him, but you couldn’t follow through with that either. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be experienced in that area, maybe it’s a good thing. Yeah, that’s what you tell yourself but it never really feels truthful.
Tonight you and Eddie have movie night, something you both like to do when he’s just gotten home and in need of ‘his best friend time’ as he puts it. You went and hung out at family video for awhile, Eddie catching up with Steve and Robin while you browsed the new releases, finally settling on some b rated cheesy horror movie and some snacks.
Once back at Eddie’s trailer, you set up the movie while he puts the popcorn on the stove, and unbags the rest of the junk food, while grabbing two beers out the fridge for you both. Throwing the popcorn in whatever big bowl he can find, he makes his way to you, with his arms full.
“Alright, you ready?” He motions to the tv with his head, while trying to gently place everything on the coffee table. “I have a feeling this is gonna be really gory, but yeah I’m ready.” You say before shoving a couple kernels of popcorn into your mouth, “it’s okay, peach. You know if it gets too scary you can always hold onto me.” He beams with a smug smirk. The use of his childhood nickname for you, makes your cheeks bloom a bright red, though it wasn’t out of embarrassment, but an overwhelming sense of pride that no one other than you, knew this side of Eddie, this sweet gentle side. You knew one day he’d get a girlfriend and she’d see this side plus so much more, the thought made your stomach twist in knots but couldn’t think about that, for now you would savor the moments you two spend together.
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You jokingly say, you rarely join in on Eddie’s flirting so when you do, it always catches him off guard. He side eyes you with a small smirk. “So, do you wanna smoke before I press play?” He asks while rubbing his palms on his Jean clad thighs. “Yeah, we can smoke.” Smoking with Eddie usually consists of you taking one hit while he kills the rest.
Correction, you took two hits this time, while Eddie took a couple more than you, before putting the joint out in the ashtray and discarding it off to the side, while pressing play on the remote. Something in the air felt different this time, you couldn’t put your finger on it but there was a tension you were never aware of before. Eddie kept sneaking glances at you, but when you’d look, his eyes would be on the screen, aside from the two times his eyes didn’t look away fast enough. You wanted to ask him if something was wrong or if you had something on your face, but the weed almost made you feel stuck or maybe you were too afraid of what would come out of the conversation.
After sitting in silence watching teenagers be picked off one by one, by some psycho killer as you sipped your beer and every once in a while grabbed for a candy or some popcorn. You took one last glance at Eddie, your eyes met but he looked away almost immediately back onto the screen.
When you looked back at the tv, the scene in front of you was a rather erotic one. The couple were in a car at some type of ‘lovers lake’ spot, the girl was bent over the middle console sucking the guys dick, while his head was thrown back on the head rest.
“What does that feel like?” The words leave your mouth before you are even able to grasp what it was you actually asked. “What?” Eddie asked as his eyebrows furrowed. “Getting head, what does it feel like?” You already asked, might as well find out the answer. “Um, well I mean it feels good.” He says, his eyes meeting yours as he white knuckles his beer bottle, taking a swig. “Mmm, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You don’t know what has come over you, almost like the weed has some type of truth serum in it, you couldn’t stop word vomiting your every thought.
Eddie almost spit out his sip of beer, but instead he swallows it harshly before choking. You sit up and pat his back, while laughing. “Shit, are you okay? Here, put your hands up.” You say as you try to help him lift his right arm into the air. “He pulls his arm away while rubbing his chest, “I’m alright.” He says gently, “you just, you can’t say shit like that, peach. Not to me.”
Now your eyebrows furrow, because what the fuck? He’s your best friend, he can talk about different women all day long and how he fucks them side ways from Monday, but you inquire about one sexual question and now it’s “you can’t say shit like that to me.” You roll your eyes and turn your body towards the tv, huffing out a breath in annoyance.
A couple minutes pass by before Eddie is knocking you out of your thoughts. “Listen, peach I-I,” you cross your arms as he talks, before you cut him off. “Eddie, it’s fine just drop it.” Eddie didn’t know how to drop shit, so you knew that wasn’t gonna happen. “Look at me.” He said with a domineering tone, making you turn your head almost immediately. “Listen, I just- I understand you’re curious and as your best friend I shouldn’t be weird about you, ya’ know experimenting and all that but, I don’t know the thought of some creep seeing you like that, I don’t know it just pisses me off.” He says through gritted teeth. “I get it Eddie, you look at me like your little sister or something.” You say as your head snaps back to the screen, screams booming from the speakers as one of the girls tries to outrun the killer.
“A sister?” Eddie says almost as low as a whisper, “I don’t think of you like a sister, peach. If I had a sister I definitely wouldn’t hang out with her as much as I do with you.” His words make your stomach flutter. “You don’t?” You ask in surprise. “No, no I don’t” Eddie says before taking another swig of his beer. “Well, so why does the thought of me doing that with someone piss you off?” You’re genuinely confused now. “I don’t know, it’s just you're so innocent about shit like that, and I don’t want someone taking advantage of you or..” he trails off before you begin talking, “okay? Well I mean I want to learn, I don’t wanna be a virgin forever.” You say as you roll your eyes. “And you will, just make sure he’s the right guy, ya’ know?”
“Isn’t the purpose to be good before you find the right guy?” You snort, “not necessarily.” He says back, while meeting your eyes. “Not many guys want a girl who doesn’t even know how to suck dick, correctly. Let alone a boring virgin.” You gloomily say while shooting him a bittersweet smile.
“Cmon peach, you’re more than your sexual status, you know that right?” He tilts his head closer to you, doing his best silly face to make you laugh, it worked just like it always did. “There she is.” He smirks.
A couple more minutes pass by before you say the words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, no more overthinking it. “Eddie?” You whisper, capturing his attention as he turns to look at you, “can you teach me?” His eyes widen, his mouth slightly drops open and it moves like he wants to say something but the words are stuck, until finally he’s able to get them out “Y-you want me to teach you?” He says in disbelief.
“Well, I mean I trust you more than anyone, and I’m sure you know what you like, so why not?” You shrug and then turn your head back to the tv for a second before you find his eyes again. “Are you sure about that, peach? I mean I want you to really know what you’re asking for here?” His knee begins bouncing before he’s reaching for the leftover joint in the ashtray. “I’m a big girl Eddie, I know what I’m asking for.” You smirk at the fact that you’re able to fluster him like this. “Okay, so you know the only way I can teach you is by, uh by showing you right?” You’ve never seen him this nervous before, maybe you should’ve done this earlier. “Yes, Eddie. How else would you teach me?” You raise an eyebrow, as he lights up the joint and takes a hit.
“Fuck, peach are you positive you wanna do this? I don’t wanna like fuck up our friendship or make shit weird between us.” He stares into your eyes, a look of genuine concern on his face as the smoke bellows from his mouth. You can’t help the insecurities bubbling up inside of you,“Eddie, if I'm not good enough to suck your dick, then just say that.” Your shoulders slump against the back of the couch, you look away because you can’t bear the rejection.
“Not good enough? What the fuck does that mean?” He says while scooting himself closer to the edge of the couch, trying to see your face from where he’s seated, you don’t answer. “Hey!” He almost shouts with that same domineering tone from earlier. He grabs your cheeks, almost pinching them, making your mouth fall open in an “o” shape. He turns your eyes to meet his, “look at me when I’m talking to you, peach.” His dominant voice gets softer at your nickname, the whole thing has you feeling butterflies somewhere else.
“You wanna learn? Okay then, get on your knees for me, and I’ll teach you. Just call me Mr. Munson.” He says with a cackle, making you laugh along.
You get up from your spot and take a couple steps, now standing in front of Eddie’s wide opened legs, he’s now sitting with his back flush against the couch, knees spread. You sink down to your knees, and look up at him for direction. He stares at you for a couple seconds, while his chest rises and falls.
“Okay, first you’re gonna unbuckle my belt.” He says with a low gruff voice, somehow you were able to undo the belt from the handcuff buckle, rather quickly.
You didn’t need to be told how to take his pants off, unbuttoning and unzipping them with fervor, before you put your thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and plaid boxers, but before you began pulling them down, Eddie stopped you— “hold on, baby.” He breathily says as he puts his heavily tattooed hands over yours, “I uh,” his hands are trembling, everything feels like too much in the moment, he’s never called you baby before but also, why is he so nervous? You know he’s gotten his dick sucked more than he probably even remembers yet here he is more nervous than you.
“Peach, I-I uh, you know I really care about you, right?” His gaze is stirring something inside of you, the adoration in his eyes, clear as day. “Yeah, of course I know that, Ed’s. I care about you too.” You beam up at him, from your spot between his legs.
He removes his right hand from yours, bringing his thumb to your jaw, gliding it against your skin inching closer towards your lips, Eddie rubs the pad of his thumb over your pouty bottom lip, moving it back and forth until his finger stops abruptly. “Open” was all he had to say for you to obey, you open.
His thumb instantly on your tongue, you didn’t need any more instruction as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked.
“Fuck” Eddie panted while holding your gaze, “you’re so fucking pretty, peach.” He took a few more heavy breaths before he continued, “I’ve always wanted to see you like this.” You can’t believe what he’s saying, ‘he’s always wanted to see me like this? Since when?’ But that’s a question for another day, you want this too bad.
Instead you shoot him a little smirk, “are you ready Mr. Munson?” You say in a seductive tone. “Y-yeah, I’m ready baby.” He laughs at the title he threw around earlier. Your thumbs take up their old position, slowly pulling his boxers and black jeans down to his knees. Eddie’s cock springs out, at attention. You don’t know much about dicks but he looks painfully hard, almost purple and throbbing while the tip leaks clear beads of precum, it makes your mouth water.
You reach for his cock, wrapping your dainty hand around his huge length. Eddie moves to sit up more, as if he needs to see everything you’re doing, “mmm, spit on it baby.” He softly commands as he bites his bottom lip. You get higher up on your knees, mouth a couple inches above his cock, letting a glob of spit fall out of your mouth and onto his angry tip.
Eddie shudders, before he continues his instructions. “Good girl, now rub the spit all over the head and shaft before you start the hand job, it can kind of hurt when it’s dry.” He says before yanking up his band shirt and pulling it up over his head, throwing it over the armrest of the couch.
Your eyes rake over his upper body, as you continue to pump him, his array of tattoos, some you’ve seen some you haven’t, along with nipple rings, yeah you’ve never seen those before. Fuck, he looked so good. You continued to gawk until your eyes met his, his cocky smile looking down at you, knowingly.
“See something you like, peach?” His cocky smile turned into a toothy grin. “Maybe” was all you said before taking his tip into your mouth and lightly sucking. Eddie’s hand flies to your hair, gently taking a handful, “fuck, I didn’t tell you to do that yet, did I? You’re supposed to be a good girl and listen, okay?” He says before pulling you off of his cock. “First I want you to lick from my balls up to the tip, do you understand?” He says while he has your hair pulled back and chin pointed up towards him, almost face to face.
You’ve never seen Eddie this way before, so in charge, so demanding, almost mean but so sexy.
You do as he asked, licking a strip up from his balls to his tip, out of pure curiosity you licked the new beads of precum just to taste, “fuck, you’re such a good girl” he growls, the praise going straight to your pussy.
“Okay baby, now I want you to do what you did before, put your mouth around the tip and suck.” You waste no time, putting the tip back into your mouth and sucking a little harder than before. “Fuck, just like that. Now, look up at me, peach. I need to see those pretty eyes, baby.” When you look up at Eddie, you want to commit the sight in front of you to memory and use it every time you're alone in your bed at night. His eyes were lust filled, his jaw was slack, his head was tilted down as he watched you through his lashes.
“Good girl, peach!” He groans “okay, now take it a little deeper, yes! Fuck that’s it, baby. Just like that.” You couldn’t help it any longer, you were so turned on, you snuck your hand inside your shorts, grinding down on your fingers as they slid across your soaked clit. You continued bobbing on Eddie’s cock, he gathered your hair up in a makeshift ponytail as he controlled your movements.
He was trying so hard not to push your head down and begin fucking your throat, like he was use to. No, he had to be gentle with you, his little peach. In high school, he had this fantasy almost nightly, you sucking his cock, on your knees all cute and innocent. Fuck, he felt like a pervert back then because of it. But now, it’s really fucking turning him on, and he’s more than okay with that.
He sits up slightly as he notices your right hand has disappeared, “are you touching yourself?” He asks with a wide eyed gaze. “Yes, I can’t help it, you’re so sexy.” You whine, not even realizing what you said.
“Oh?” He smirked, “you think I’m sexy?” His hips buck, making his tip hit the back of your throat, gagging you. “Fuck, I think you’re so fucking sexy, keep playing with your little pussy baby, cum for me.” He panted, “I wanna see your face when you come, peach. I need to see it.” You slid his cock out of your mouth as you began rubbing your clit harder, “mmm, oh fuck.” You moaned out, eyes rolling back.
“You sound so pretty, too. Can you take your shirt off for me, peach? Can I see your tits?” He begged, you slipped your hand out of your waistband, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, then you unclasp the black bra that cupped your boobs perfectly. Eddie, doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
You pull the bra from your body, and throw it at him, as you giggle. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath as he sat up to get a better look, left hand lazily stroking his cock. His right hand reaches before he pulls it back, “can I- can I touch?” He asks softly. “Yes, you can touch Ed's.” You say with an innocent bat of your lashes.
He used both hands to grab handfuls of each breast, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. “You really are so beautiful, you know that?” He asks, as he looks over your body and face.
“Yeah? You think so?” You ask as you reach for his cock, missing the way it felt between your fingers and in your mouth. “Oh, I know so.” He chuckles
“Teach me more, Ed’s? I wanna make you cum.” You whisper as you move your head closer to his cock, he can feel your breath on him, but it’s your words that are really doing it for him. He never thought he’d hear you like this, no matter how many times he’s fantasized, but now that he has, he’s addicted. He wants to be your first everything, he has to be.
“Fuck, keep touching yourself with my cock in your mouth, baby.” He whimpers, sitting flush against the couch again, with his head thrown back.
You stuff him back into your mouth, sucking and licking while your hand finds its way back into your shorts and over your clit.
“Yes fuck! Deepthroat baby, breathe through your nose and swallow, look up at me. Fuck yes, Jesus your mouth feels so fucking good.” He scrunches his face up in pleasure, letting out little “fucks” and “shits” as you took him deeper in your throat.
“Mmm alright, spit on it again.” He says as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping your bottom lip with it. You do as you’re asked, “fuck yeah, I like my head sloppy, baby.” You can tell he’s antsy and wants to cum and you’re right behind him, as you continue to rub yourself.
“Take your other hand and wrap it around the middle. Mhm, perfect peach, now I want you to put your mouth on me again, just the tip and a little bit of the shaft, yes just like that, fuck.” You’d do just about anything he asked of you right now, especially if he continues with those moans and his sweet words of praise.
“Okay, now I want you to twist your hand and go up and down, while you suck.” At first it was hard to keep the same rhythm as your hand, but you quickly got the hang of it. “Oh fuck! Oh my god baby! You’re fucking perfect.” He begins bucking his ups up towards your mouth, spit covering your hand as you continue your ministrations on him.
you’re so focused on making him feel good, you forgot about getting yourself off.
“Look at me, baby.” The sight of your tear stained cheeks and glossy eyes, got him. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You take it all into your mouth not letting even a drop go. “Holy shit, peach.” He growls “swallow it.” He demands, while watching you. “Let me see.” Another demand. You stick out your tongue, to show him you did as you were asked.
“Good girl, now get up here and let me make you cum.”
Thank you for reading! 🍑
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie stranger things
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Modelling all the new lingerie you bought for frat Peter and he's absolutely losing his mind
i want to preface that this is absolutly size inclusive, i just went with victoria's secret for the branding but we're gonna pretend they have all the sizes and inclusitivity they should.
warnings: a lil smutty
Peter eyed the pink and black paper bag in your hand, he tried to be understanding but there is nothing in that store that’s for him. You said you had a surprise and you got him something, but here you were standing in front of him with a victoria’s secret bag and a wide smile.
“If you want me to wear womens panties during sex I need to hear you say it now.”
You laugh, “no, that’s not… wait, would you?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
You roll your eyes, “always dramatic, parker.”
He would. He’d do anything for you, you just don’t believe him yet.
“No, I got these for you…” you trail and have a hand go digging, you pull up a lacy red lingerie piece.
Dead silence, you start to feel insecure. Mandy assured you he’d like it, go feral even. But he’s giving you a blank stare, you want to throw the fabric over the balcony. After a crushing thirty second silence you feel warmth flooding your cheeks, you scramble to put the fabric back in. It’s pointless, you’d never be able to look at it again, let alone the store.
Peter’s eyes widened watching your panicked movements, he was waiting for more information. He supposes it’s pretty but he really doesn’t think he could fit in it, plus this is a pretty major kink to throw on him at once.
Refusing to make eye contact you ramble, “this was so stupid, I hate myself.”
“Hey,”
“Forget this ever happened, this is so embarrassing I have to leave.”
“Hey,” louder.
You bulldozed.
“In fact, I think we could just end this here, peter. I mean this was obviously weird enough for the both-”
He’s not going to lose you, “I didn’t say anything!”
“That’s the point! You aren’t into it, Mandy swore you’d like it but-”
Peter lets out a sigh, “baby, I mean, is that even my size?”
You stop speaking and blink, you look at the bag and back at your frat boy.
He thought it was for him, he actually thought you wanted him to dress up for you.
“No, you dolt! They’re mine, I just wanted to, I dunno.. model them for you.”
It felt less embarrassing wallowing in silence.
“Oh.”
“Oh!”
A cocky grin spilled over his face, his hands interlocked behind his head and he leaned back on his bed, you watched his core tighten and flex with the movement.
Peter licked his lips, “please do. Leave red for last, it’s my favorite color.”
You’re glad he can’t see your shy smile, “I know.”
The conformation makes the heat blossom in his chest.
—-------------
Peter loves how you look, he says it every chance he gets, but knowing you put on a skimpy outfit with the goal being observed made you self conscious in a different way. Peter makes sure to dote on you plenty when he’s taking your clothes off, but those are small glances and kisses, this was you presenting yourself and showing off.
You ran a hand down your torso as you exhaled heavily, you had to trust Peter. You weren’t sure what was happening between you two, it was a weird midway point. It was like you were dating but the casual touching or labeling was way off beat.
The bathroom door clicks open and you step out boldly.
“Ready?”
Your boy’s head lifted off the bed, the first glance sent him scrambling to hit up. His eyes dragged over your body, everywhere he could see he soaked it in, like he was memorizing each curve of your body. It should make you feel self conscious, but he makes you confident.
“My beautiful girl, hm?” His hands reach out, you step into his hold and feel him explore. You feel his fingertips race across the black lace of your bra, it’s not covering much, you can feel the heat of his hands through the mesh on your chest.
You squirm as his tracing tickles you, his thumbs resting at your hips, he can’t stop himself. He lifts up the lace hanging from your front, the baby doll thrown over his head as he presses kisses up and down your torso. You sigh and grab the back of his head, you tangle into the curls and lean into him as his fingers dig into the plush on your waistline to keep you close.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” batty eyelashes blink up at you, he’s a proud simp and munch. He kisses right above your thong, “how’d I get so lucky?”
His words make your knees weak, he always talks like that, like he’s the most lucky person on the planet to have you in his arms. He acts like you chose him, like you picked the short straw, but you were the lucky one.
You pat his shoulders and step away, “one out of five?”
No hesitation, “seven.”
“Cheat. Don’t go anywhere, I have two more.”
Peter sputters, “as if you have to tell me?”
—----------------------
This one was a lot more fitting.
It was bold, it was a nice hunter green, a bold bra and itty, bitty, crotchless panties.
It felt like everything but your nipples were out, you’d burn this one if you hadn’t put your foot in your mouth about two more. You tap your foot as you look over yourself in the mirror and shake your head. Peter's seen you naked hundreds of times but you felt more exposed than ever before.
“Petey?”
Muffled, “yes, baby?”
You didn’t know where to go from there, you heard movement, then a little closer to the door.
“You alright, baby?”
You let out a puff of air, “it’s a lot.”
He’s connecting dots, “the outfit?”
“Yeah.”
Peter lets out an airy laugh, “I hate to tell you babe, but I’ve seen it all and love it more every time I do.”
You nibble your lip, you just need a hype man, he could be that easily.
“I’m like, naked naked.”
“Perfect.”
“It’s dark green.”
A whine, “please let me see!”
You crack the door open and peek out an eye, you see Peter watching the ground before looking up and smiling wide. You swing it open and spin slowly, his eyes not leaving your lower half. Peter crosses to the doorway and pulls at your hips and throws you on the bathroom counter.
You gasp and watch his eyes trail down, he catches sight between your legs and you close them self consciously, his hand stops the meeting, then taps at your knee with his thumb for you to open back up for him. He takes his time drawing you in, his throat low and scratchy when he speaks.
“Oh, oh I like these. I like these a lot.”
Peter’s thumb races up the side of your thigh before gently tracing around your inner thigh and higher, you jostle as he rubs over the space your crotch should be, you choke on air and hit your head against the mirror, you open your eyes to see his locked on your face, his pupils blended into his eyes.
He circles again and you grab his wrist to push it away, “I still have to show you the red one.”
“I already saw it, I’m about to get on my knees and worship you.”
Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, “let me show you the last one, then you can choose which one you wanna take me in.”
Peter gives a sharp inhale, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
—-----------------------
A full piece in red, you picked this one out yourself. It screamed Peter, the color, the lace, the style.
The body had a built in corset, red cinched your waist. The bottom lapels had straps that connected to your thigh belts, this time a cheeky pair of underwear. It contrasted the harsh sex of the bodice, a peek of bum that led more to the imagination, just like your chest being pushed up from the corset.
It was both the most dressed and undressed you’ve been all evening. The other’s were more uncovered but this one made you feel hot and powerful and confident.
You didn’t need any help with this one.
“This gotta be your favorite, right?”
Peter felt time stop, he was absolutely speechless. He’s never seen you so.. so… gorgeous. A cocky grin, one that told him you knew how good you looked. And he doesn’t care what anyone has to say, his girl wearing his favorite color in lingerie was the down right sexiest thing he’s ever seen.
His silence doesn’t scare you, it makes you fill with pride.
“Yeah… that’s the one.”
You stalked to the end of the bed where he sat, his fingers tugging at your thigh buckles.
“I’ve never had a girl dress up for me like this.” A delicate confession, while his fingers and hands fondled over your backside and thighs.
You shrug and run your hand through his hair, “you make me want to dress up for you.”
Peter pulls at you to straddle his waist, “I’ll never stop being grateful.”
“Is this the winner? You can take it off whenever.”
Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I kinda just like looking at you right now.”
The black piece was lust.
The green piece was passion.
The red piece was love.
Three things are very clear to Peter Parker in that moment.
One, he wasn’t sure when, but you were going to be his girlfriend.
Two, he’s almost eighty percent sure he loves you.
Three, this is the hardest he’s been in his entire life.
#peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker smut#tasm!peter smut#peter parker fluff#my writing#frat!peter
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damned if i do (give a damn what people say)
It seems Steve Harrington is back off the market
The latest news on the pop star’s love life comes mere weeks after word of a fallout with longtime beau, journalist Nancy Wheeler. While neither party has confirmed the rumors, many of Harrington’s closest friends have hinted at the end of the relationship in interviews and on social media.
One thing everyone failed to mention, however, is that Harrington appears to have moved on and is now dating Corroded Coffin front-man, Eddie Munson.
The two have been friends for years, tracing as far back as the early 2010s, though it’s difficult to put a pin in exactly when they met. Neither are particularly vocal about their personal lives and often change the subject when the other comes up in an interview; a diversion tactic they’ve been playing for years.
Still, the alleged new couple has been spotted around some of Harrington’s favorite Manhattan hot spots several times over the past week.
The rockstar has a bit of an edgier vibe than Harrington’s usual flings; more outspoken and unpredictable than the ‘type’ Steve has typically shown an interest in; at least publicly.
Only time will tell if “Steddie” (so dubbed by the fans in support of the relationship) is true… and if they’ll last.
_____
“I can’t believe they think I’m dating Eddie,” Steve grumbled into the pillow on the floor of his hotel room. With a huff, he turned his head and looked off to the wall on the far side of the room. “I mean, it’s crazy that I can’t go out to dinner with anyone besides you and not be on a date.”
Robin leveled her foot to the center of his back, before shifting her weight onto it, then grinned in satisfaction as Steve groaned and his back popped loudly in several places. “It’s not like it’s that surprising. The tabloids went feral over you and Nancy breaking up after they were convinced you guys were already secretly married.” She shifted her weight back off him, dropping to sit cross-legged beside Steve. “Plus, it’s not that much of a stretch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, pushing himself up until he was sitting with his back against the wall, leg stretched out against Robin’s.
“It means you two have never looked at each other the way friends do. It makes sense that they’re picking that up.” Robin shrugged, brushing off her comment like it wasn’t shattering part of Steve’s bubble.
“We look at each other totally normally!”
The look Robin leveled Steve with had him pushing himself up off the floor and making his way toward the bathroom.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to start getting ready, but we don’t do anything normal friends wouldn’t because that’s what we are, Robin!”
“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?” Robin asked and sighed heavily when Steve slammed the bathroom door closed in response.
It was only about five minutes before there was a familiar knock at the door; three in quick succession, followed by two after a short pause.
“I think we need to talk, sweetheart,” was understandable, despite being muffled by the door, before Steve was racing out of the bathroom to beat Robin to undoing the locks and letting Eddie in. “Why didn’t you tell me we’re dating?” Eddie asked through a pout, leaned against the doorframe.
Steve rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Eddie follow him inside, before pointing at Robin. “See! Very much not dating!”
“Well,” Eddie started, teasingly, only to get hit in the face with a pillow from Steve’s bed. “I’m kidding, Steve. It’s not even a bad thing. I mean, they’re actually being really fucking cool about you being bisexual.”
“Being out as bi doesn’t mean that every person, regardless of their gender, is automatically my love interest just because I breathed near them.” Steve snapped, obviously frustrated despite Eddie’s attempts to ease the situation.
“Hey. Don’t get mean. You know what’s not what Eddie meant.” Robin responded. Steve looked back and forth between the two of them for a long moment, before he collapsed, face first, onto his mattress with a loud groan.
“C’mon, there’s no need to meltdown over this. If you want me to, I can post something about catching up with old friends to try to make it go away.” Eddie offered, gently, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from Steve.
It took a long beat, but Steve eventually lifted his head from his pillows and shrugged. “I don’t want to make you do anything like that. It’s fine. It’ll all work out in the end. I'm just having a weird day, I guess.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, and when Steve didn’t elaborate, he turned his head to Robin, who shrugged.
“Nancy texted him this morning asking to not talk about her at shows and he’s been in a sour mood about it since.”
“Robin!” Steve groaned, pressing his face back into his pillow miserably.
“Have you been, though?” Eddie asked, confused. “Talking about her, I mean? I thought I was doing a decent job at getting the highlights and I have no memory of you dropping anything profound about you and Nance on any crowds.”
“Not directly,” Steve spoke into his pillow, before turning his head and staring at the wall as he answered. “I made a few comments about my songs. How to get someone back. How to gaslight someone into thinking you love them before letting everything go at the drop of a hat for one of your best friends.”
A silence settled over the room for a moment, before Eddie burst into giggles, which set Robin off. Eventually Steve joined in, turning his attention to the two of them with a heavy sigh.
“I guess I was an asshole about it, huh?”
“I think it’s justifiable.” Eddie offered, to which Robin nodded in agreement as she started toying with Steve’s hair. “If you feel like you’re going to say something about Nancy, you could always say something to me instead. Really confuse the shit out of everyone.” He teased, but Steve beamed.
“Wait, that’s actually a great idea.”
Robin looked apprehensive, holding her hands in the air. “Steve, you remember you just freaked out about this, right? And now you’re going to play into it? Publicly?”
“It’ll be fun. I’m not gonna say anything directly about Eddie. But just. References. And then we can watch the fans lose their shit on TikTok later.” Steve reasoned with a grin, and Eddie smiled back at him.
“I promise to spend the entire show dancing my ass off and singing along. For the bit.” Eddie said, his hand over his heart.
“You do that anyway, you’re just usually backstage.” Robin pointed out, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Well, obviously, I have to join you and Dustin in the family tent tonight. Duh.”
“Yes!” Steve agreed with a laugh. “This is going to be so much fun!”
“You’re both psychotic.”
_____
“Indianapolis, you're making me feel awfully special tonight.” Steve bit at his lip as he looked around Lucas Oil Stadium to thousands of people screaming back at him. “This is as close to a hometown show as I really get these days, so thank you for always making sure to remind me how special of a place home is.”
The music started to pick up again, but Steve kept talking. “I kind of spent the last few years coasting by without anyone paying too much attention, but now that I’m back on the road, everyone’s suddenly deeply invested in my life, and it's strange to be back so close to somewhere I called home for so long, in the same position I was in five years ago.” He ran his fingers through his hair, before huffing out a laugh.
“But you guys, you've always been there. Unwavering in a way I will never be able to express my gratitude for.” he paused to glance around the crowd again, grinning as they cheered. “Not many people can say the same, you know?”
“Where is he going with this?” Dustin asked, leaning close to Robin, who shrugged, trying not to have a visible reaction. There were always cameras on them in public like this. Any reaction would be taken out of context and exaggerated.
“Did you see the tabloid rumors about Eddie and Steve?” She replied, and couldn’t help but smile as Dustin’s head whipped back forward to Steve.
“I mean, there’s Robbie, the kids I used to babysit. And, uh…” he trailed off, which Eddie took as his cue to move to the front of the family tent. “Maybe someone else. This one's for you.” Steve said, leaving the “you” ambiguous enough to be open for interpretation.
Eddie, hamming it up, made a heart with his hands, before immediately starting to headbang along to the love song next in the setlist.
_____
In a surprising twist, Dustin managed to wait until the security team had moved them out of the crowd and behind the stage with the crew nearly two hours later before his outburst.
“What the fuck?!” He asked as soon as the were away from the crowd. “Why are you two playing into this? It’s just going to get more headlines and attention on the two of you, which neither of you usually like!”
“But it’s different if it’s on our terms.” Eddie responded, not even looking up from his phone as he answered Dustin.
“Is it, though? Is it really on your terms if it’s not even true?” Dustin sounded exasperated, and while Robin could relate, she was planning on sitting this one out until Eddie shoved his phone into her face.
“It’s already on TikTok. 4 videos in.” He said with a grin as Robin watched Eddie make a hand heart toward the stage before his hair started flopping all over as he sang along. The clip was captioned “steddie is real!!!”
“So you’re proud you’re deceiving fans?” She asked, which made Eddie’s grin fall.
“Don't be so dramatic,” Steve called as he approached from the stage exit. He was covered in sweat and still in his performance clothes, holding a half empty water bottle. “It’s all in good fun. They never need to know if it was real or not.”
“I think you’re downplaying this by a lot. What happens the next time one of you is seen out on a date?” Dustin pressed, and continued despite the way Steve rolled his eyes. “I mean it, an honest to god date. People are going to lose their minds, trying to figure out what broke up Steve and Eddie, when you were never even together in the first place! They’ll turn you against each other, they always do. And if you weren’t dating, isn’t that just as bad of a look?”
“Woah. Henderson. Chill. It’ll be fine, man. You’re WAY overthinking this.” Eddie said, before he grinned at Steve. “Could you see my hand heart from the stage?”
“I could. Did you catch the wink I sent your way at the end of the song?”
“I did, nice touch! I patted my hand over my heart, so maybe that’ll end up on social, too.”
“I’m going to throw myself into the White River.” Dustin groans loudly, to a round of laughs and elbow nudges.
_____
Steve could pinpoint the exact moment things finally felt out of hand two weeks later.
He was getting ready for the show that will wrap up his first weekend at his “home away from home” in 5 years when Eddie texted him about being late to that night’s show.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
Eddie had missed the last two shows in Chicago
It shouldn’t matter.
Eddie’d been there, religiously, at the 4 shows before Chicago on the tour, and 6 others before that when his band wasn’t playing their own concerts. Steve even made 3 trips of his own to Corroded Coffin shows, around his own obligations.
But it still made him frown at his phone for a moment too long. Long enough Robin caught him.
“More headlines about Steddie?” She asked, slipping the phone from his hands before he could stop her. When she read over the message, though, her expression softened. “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal.” Steve rushed out, snatching his phone back and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s fine. I’m not upset, there’s no reason to feel sorry. Besides, he just said he’ll be late, he didn’t say he isn’t coming.”
“Would you be upset if he wasn’t coming, then?” Robin asked. Steve glared daggers at her, and sighed when she held her hands in the air, feigning innocence.
“I don’t know.” He mumbled, honestly.
___
The intro tape was just about to start as Steve was making his usual trek toward his starting point, when he heard someone running and calling his name from behind him, rather than out in the crowd. He paused and turned, to see Eddie rushing toward him.
“I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to see that I made it before you went on!” He was out of breath, his hair more wild from running than usual, and Steve…
Well, frankly, Steve was tired of pretending like Eddie wasn’t the hottest person he’d ever seen.
So Steve met Eddie halfway, threw his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together in a move Eddie seemed to have anticipated because he wasted no time returning the favor.
It was only Steve’s cue music that had him breaking away, biting at his lip and grinning at Eddie, who grinned back at him, before using the hands he’d placed on Steve’s waist at some point in the interaction to turn Steve toward the stage.
“Go, before you miss the start of your own show, superstar. I’ll still be here after.” Eddie said.
“Promise?” Steve called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stage’s catwalk.
“Cross my heart, big boy.” Eddie drew an x over his heart for dramatic effect, then laughed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched Steve run to make it to his place on time.
#steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#Robin Buckley#Dustin Henderson#popstar!steve#rockstar!eddie#I don’t know what this is#I think it might be inspired by some of the early eras tour matty and Taylor chaos#but idk lmao#hopefully this finds an audience who enjoys it#starkidmunson writes
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EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2
part three ??
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.
It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.
And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.
So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.
He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.
With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.
But you already knew.
Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.
You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.
“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.
“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.
“What can I help you with, Miles?”
He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.
“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.
You look at him for a moment before shrugging.
“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.
“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.
The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.
“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.
He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.
“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.
Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.
“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.
“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.
“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.
“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.
“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.
“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.
He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.
After two days a package shows up at your door.
When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.
You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.
You dont see Miles again for two weeks.
“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.
He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.
You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.
“Whats troubling you?” You ask.
“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.
“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.
“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”
Miles shrugs
“How much was it? I can pay you back-“
“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.
You pause.
“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.
Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.
“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.
“…excuse me?”
“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.
“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.
“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.
“Oh. because I dont want to.”
Miles furrowed his eyebrows.
“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.
Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.
“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.
You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.
You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.
He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.
He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.
His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.
“Goodnight Miles.”
“…..goodnight y/n.”
When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.
You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.
On your bedside table there was another note.
“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”
You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.
tags:
@caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb
#spider man: across the spider verse#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales x reader#miles morales#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles
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Sweet Like Grenadine
Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Masterlist
Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.
Word Count: 5.6k
a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend
The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.
You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…
You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.
He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.
The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-
“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.
The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.
“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“
You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”
“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”
Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.
“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”
You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-
“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.
Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”
You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.
“D’you want a drink?” He asks.
“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.
“So?”
“So, how are you going to get a drink?”
He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”
You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”
Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”
He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.
He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.
“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.
He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”
“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”
“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”
They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.
You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.
“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.
“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.
It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.
“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.
“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”
You smile. “That’s sweet.”
Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.
He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.
“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.
You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”
Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.
When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.
“We could go dance,” he suggests.
You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”
That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.
“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.
Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”
You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.
“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”
Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”
You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.
Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.
You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.
“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.
He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.
“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”
Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”
He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”
His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.
“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”
“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.
You don’t bother believing him this time.
Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.
“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”
“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”
You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.
“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”
He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?
He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.
You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.
You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.
It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.
“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.
“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”
“It’s tempting,” you admit.
Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”
Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”
You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.
You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”
You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.
He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.
“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.
You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.
“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.
It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.
You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.
…..
You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.
“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.
By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.
The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.
As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.
It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.
When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.
You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.
When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.
When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.
“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”
Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”
“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”
“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“
“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”
She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.
“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”
“Keep it down!” You shush her.
“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”
Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.
“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”
He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”
An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.
“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”
“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”
She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.
“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”
Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”
She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.
You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”
He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”
You smile. “She is.”
“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”
You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”
Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.
“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.
“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”
You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.
“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”
“Worse than the last one?” He asks.
“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”
Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”
You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”
His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”
You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”
He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.
You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.
Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.
“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”
Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.
“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”
He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.
“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”
He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.
“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.
Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.
He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”
You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”
He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.
“That is not what you said last time.”
“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”
Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”
“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”
Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”
“No,” you say with a shrug.
Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.
His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.
“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”
You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.
“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”
The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.
“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”
He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.
“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”
You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.
…..
You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.
He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.
His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.
You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.
There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.
“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.
Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.
“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”
“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.
“I’ll say,” she teases.
“Nat!” You hiss.
“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”
“Nat!” You hiss again.
“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”
“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.
He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.
“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”
He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.
“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.
…..
At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.
The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.
Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams
#daniel riccardo x reader#Danny Ricciardo x reader#Daniel Ricciardo x you#Danny Ricciardo x you#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#honeywrites#formula 1 fanfic
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under the mistletoe
modern!eddie munson x fem!reader (college au)
2.6k
summary: a holiday party, a sweet gift exchange, and an even sweeter kiss
cw: mentions of alcohol, v brief mentions of weed smoking, fluff
“If Steve and Chrissy kiss one more time under that mistletoe, I’m gonna barf,” Eddie mumbles around his glass of eggnog.
“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Robin says, elbowing him in the side. “Stop being such a downer.”
You look in the direction of the couple under scrutiny, watching as Chrissy perches herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Steve’s waiting mouth. It is sweet, sickeningly so, if you’re honest. Maybe that’s where Eddie’s coming from…
“I’m not being a downer, I just don’t think we should all have to be subjected to them sucking face every five minutes,” Eddie sneers at her, huffing when she rolls her eyes at him.
“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any, Munson,” Robin sing-songs, walking away to refill her drink.
This was your first time experiencing one of Steve’s Christmas parties. Last year, you spent the holiday miserably sick in your and Robin’s shared apartment. You’d met the group during your first year of college, making fast friends and fitting right in with them. Robin and Eddie knew Steve from their shared hometown growing up, and they’d told you countless stories of all of the parties he used to throw in high school.
You’re just thankful that now, the parties are a little more scaled-back. A lot less drinking-till-you-puke and a lot more quality time with people you actually care about.
“So, you having fun at your first official Harrington holiday party?” Eddie asks you, looking casually over at you with his deep brown eyes.
“Yeah,” you smile. “It’s fun. I needed this after all the stress from finals. And it beats having the flu like last year,” you grimace, heart skipping a beat when Eddie laughs.
“Okay, you got me. Watching Steve and Chrissy make out might be bad, but it’s not as bad as the flu.”
You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat when he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t have a thing for Eddie. The moment you met him he’d captured your full attention, with his boisterous personality and his pretty eyes. His wild curly hair and his stellar smile. Everything about him had you giddy like a teenager, but you hadn’t voiced this to anyone — too scared that your feelings would disrupt, well, everything.
Plus, Eddie definitely didn’t like you like that. You’ve heard some of his hookup stories, he wouldn’t want to settle down and start a relationship with you. You’re just a friend to him, and that’s fine.
But with the way he’s looking at you right now, you could almost be convinced otherwise…
The little moment is gone before it really even started, Nancy coming over to the two of you and hurrying you into the living room to do the gift exchange. You’d decided to do a Secret Santa, drawing names and keeping your chosen person a secret until it was time for the unwrapping.
Much to your excitement, you’d pulled Eddie’s name. You’d debated over what to get him for as long as you could get away with before you finally came up with the perfect idea. Now that it’s almost time for him to open it, you find yourself getting nervous to see his reaction.
Everyone sits in a circle in the living room, taking up all of the furniture as well as the floor. You take one end of the sofa, and Eddie claims the chair closest to you. You watch as Nancy places all of the wrapped boxes and sparkly gift bags in the center of the group, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Eddie chose to sit by you.
“So, whose name did you get?” he leans over and whispers to you, those big doe eyes full of mischief.
“Well what fun would it be to spoil it now?” you counter, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly.
Your attention is brought back to the group as Steve offers to go first, picking up his gift and handing it over to Jonathan. Jonathan shyly accepts it, smiling as he tears the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal its contents. He pulls out a few cassette tapes of his favorite artists, as well as a new strap for his camera.
“Dude, these are awesome!” he says, and you watch as Steve smiles proudly. “Thank you so much,” the shaggy-headed boy continues, leaning over to accept Steve’s fist bump.
“No problem, man. I know you were complaining about your current camera strap getting all worn. The cassettes were an obvious choice,” Steve jokes.
The room is full of smiles and laughs as the gift-giving continues. Jonathan gives his gift to Chrissy, Chrissy had drawn your name and gives hers to you — a beautiful charm bracelet and a cozy blanket you’d seen at the mall not long ago and wanted terribly.
That means you’re up next. Your hands feel clammy and nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach as you grab your gifts from the floor. Angling yourself in Eddie’s direction, you hand him the presents with a timid smile.
“For me!?” he asks, holding a hand up to his heart. “How’d I get so lucky?”
You feel your face flush, unable to maintain eye contact as your jitters get the best of you. You just hope he likes it. You hope it’s not too much.
Eddie’s careful hands unwrap the first present of the two, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor. The small box is exposed, and you feel like you might pass out as he takes the lid off. His jaw drops open, his head snapping up to look at you and then look back down at the contents of the container once more.
“What is it!?” Nancy asks, craning her neck from her seat to try and catch a glimpse.
“Custom guitar picks. For Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, in awe as he just stares at them.
The picks were a red and black marbled pattern, with CC printed onto them on one side, and an image of a bat flying on the opposite side. You know how important his band is to him, how often he stays up till the asscrack of dawn practicing guitar, and so it felt like the perfect thing to get.
You wait with baited-breath as he continues looking them over, picking them up and marveling at them as if they aren’t just pieces of plastic at the end of the day.
“These are…. I don’t even know what to say. These are so fucking sweet,” he says, meeting your eyes.
“Don’t forget to open the second one,” you say, trying to bite back a smile.
He just smiles, shaking his head as he goes to pick up the second present. Reaching carefully inside of the big, sparkly red bag, he pulls out a vinyl record. Not just any record, though. It’s a copy of Master of Puppets, signed by every member of Metallica. Eddie’s favorite band. You’d scoured the internet for a legitimate and somewhat-affordable copy, completely scoring on this one. A good chunk of the money you’d made from your campus job went towards it, but it was more than worth it.
“No fucking way!” he shouts when he clocks the signatures scrawled out in marker. He flips the record around to show the room, everyone erupting in a chorus of “holy shit!” and “oh my god”.
He’s out of his seat in an instant, encouraging you to stand with him. He squeezes you in an impossibly tight hug, his arms so secure around you.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, right against your ear. He pulls back a little, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you so fucking much. What the hell,” he laughs, his teeth fully on display and the dimples coming out in his cheeks.
“Damn. She’s the best gift giver of us all. I think we might as well just call off Secret Santa for next year, no one’s topping that,” Steve says, getting a nod from Robin.
Eddie still hasn’t fully let you go, and it’s only when you become excruciatingly aware of all of the eyes on you that you pull away from his touch.
“Okay. So, Eddie, you’re next?” you say shakily, trying to gain your composure back. The boy stares at you just a second too long for you not to overthink it, before he’s nodding along.
“Yeah, alright,” he says, reaching for his gift.
The remainder of the gifts are exchanged rather quickly, but you really couldn’t tell anyone what they were if you’d had a gun to your head. All you could think about was the way Eddie hugged you. The look in his eyes when he opened both gifts. His eyes watching you intently from that moment on.
You want to buy him gifts like that all of the time, want to make him smile like that all of the time.
Chrissy and Steve cozy up on the loveseat, wrapped in each other as Christmas music plays softly. Jonathan and Argyle sit by the window, smoking from the new bowl the latter had been gifted by Robin. (That was the only gift you’d actually paid attention to as it was given, because Argyle literally cried). Eddie was relaxing in his chair, sipping another glass of spiked nog.
Robin and Nancy had pulled you into the kitchen as soon as they could, talking in whispers.
“Okay, so what was that? You got Eddie, like, the best gift ever.” Robin says, her eyes bulging at the end of the sentence.
“Yeah, I mean, that record had to have cost a fortune. And the custom picks!?” Nancy prods.
“Can I not just get my friend a nice gift?” you counter, your hand rubbing the back of your neck.
“Something’s up. I always know when something’s up,” Nancy says, her small mouth pursing in thought.
She’s right. She always knows. You don’t stand a chance lying to them — especially not both of them, together.
“Okay, fine! So maybe I have a little thing for Eddie…” you say. “But he definitely doesn’t like me like that! I just… wanted to get him something nice. It made me feel good,” you add, quick to defend yourself.
“I knew it!” Robin says, a little too loud, Nancy and you hurrying to shush her. “I knew it,” she says again, whispering this time.
“Just pleeaaase don’t tell him, okay? I don’t need this getting out—”
“Okay, babe, have you ever considered that he might like you too?” Robin interrupts, and Nancy nods.
“I— I don’t know! He doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship, and… I don’t know!” you stumble, realizing you aren’t sure if you have a valid reason to confidently claim that he doesn’t like you.
The truth is, you just don’t know. And the unknown is terrifying.
“Why don’t you ask him out?” Nancy asks. “You know Eddie’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’d love to go on a date with you,” she says, and you chew on your lip in indecision.
“I don’t know, you guys…” you mumble, nervously playing with your hair.
“Just, think about it?” Robin asks, just as the curly-headed man in question strolls leisurely into the kitchen.
“What are we thinking about?” he noses his way into the conversation, grabbing a few cookies off of a tray.
“Uh, nothing important,” you lie, giving him the most convincingly casual smile you can muster.
He bites into his cookie, leaning casually against the table. His dark eyes don’t leave you. Bringing an icing-covered finger to his mouth, he sucks the sugary substance off, making you flustered for the millionth time tonight.
Think about it, Robin said. You’re definitely thinking about it.
“Hey, um, could I talk to you alone, for a sec?” he asks you, bringing you back to earth.
“Oh! Y-yeah, sure,” you say, following him out of the kitchen. You chance a quick glance back at the girls, both of whom give you a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.
Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, standing in the entryway to the apartment. You’re just out of earshot of anyone else, and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. You lean against the wall, his taller frame almost caging you in.
“Listen. I just want you to know how much I appreciate the gifts you got me. You didn’t have to do that,” he says sincerely. “No one’s ever gotten me a gift that nice before, besides for when Wayne got me my guitar,” he says, laughing lightly. “I just… thank you. I can’t thank you enough, actually.”
“I wanted to do it. You don’t even need to thank me. I’m just glad you like them, and you don’t think it’s too much,” you admit, glancing down at your feet.
“They’re perfect,” he says earnestly, getting you to look back up at him. “You’re… perfect," he breathes, saying it like it's a sigh of relief. Like it’s long overdue.
His eyes are so soft and sincere, his lips plump and pink as his tongue pokes out to wet them. His cheeks are tinged with the slightest bit of red, either from nerves or from the alcohol. You find yourself lost in him, your lips parting slightly as you both stand in silence.
Something above his head catches your attention, after a moment, and you look further up. You laugh in spite of yourself, making him look up, too.
Right above both of you, hanging from the arch in the ceiling, is mistletoe. The same mistletoe Eddie had been complaining about earlier. He starts laughing too, and then the both of you are stood there giggling like schoolchildren at the situation you find yourselves in.
When he’s regained composure, and your belly-laughs have subsided to a shy smile, you meet his eyes again. He steps ever-so-slightly closer to you, regarding you carefully down the bridge of his nose. There’s a playful look on his face, and one of his hands reaches out to gently rest on your waist.
“Since we’re here… should we..?” he starts, inching even closer.
“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, pushing up on your toes to meet him as he starts leaning down.
Your eyes flutter shut, your noses brushing together before your lips barely graze his. His warm breath fans your face, and then his lips are pressed fully on yours. You’re drinking him in, letting your mouths move softly together as you press your body against his. He smells like cinnamon and spice, tastes like the liquor from his drink, and you can’t get enough.
He’s pulling away too soon, reaching his hands up to cup your face. You never want him to let go, never want to go back to the reality you were living in before you’d kissed him, and the look on his face tells you he might be feeling the same.
“Wow,” Steve says from his spot on the couch, reminding both you and Eddie that you aren’t the only ones here.
“Awww you guys are so cute!” Chrissy coos, making you bite your lip in slight embarrassment.
Nancy and Robin high-five nonchalantly, before looking at you with huge smiles. Eddie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. You feel like a million bucks with him so close to you.
“You guys mind if we get out of here?” he says to the room. “I think we have a lot to catch up on,” he adds, glancing down at you with a wink.
You’d never been so happy to leave a party in your life. And maybe you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of Steve’s complex before Eddie’s hands were all over you, but that’s your business.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction
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