The Friday Night Fight | Reggie Mantle

The Friday Night Fight | Reggie Mantle

Hey Lovelies, here’s the first fic I’m moving from my Wattpad! I went through an entire Reggie Mantle phase and this is one of my favourite imagines! I hope you all enjoy!

Description: Y/n and Reggie are best friends and they get into a fight after she falls asleep and forgets they have plans.

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x Not-Quite-Platonic!Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst (not really)

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst, FLUFF, just overall an easy read

(not my gif! Also hello I want to do this)

You and Reggie have been best friends since you were born, always next to one another whether that be when causing trouble in Riverdale or taking the accompanying punishment. Partners in crime, that’s what the two of you are. It really is the strongest kind of bond. They say there’s no honour among thieves but you think it’s the exact opposite. There is way more honour among trouble makers than rule followers.

Well, there’s more honour when both trouble makers remember to tell each other when they cancel plans, that is.

So you’ve been a little busy these days, big deal, right? Pop’s has you working overtime for the upcoming town jubilee and your parents are on your heels to keep you grades maintained. You’re an excellent student for someone who goes mailbox smashing on occasion! That mixed with the constant hounding from your other friends to loosen up and to hang out with them more almost always leaves you swamped.

All in all, you were tired and honestly forgot to tell Reggie that you wouldn’t be able to join him at the drive-in tonight. It’s not that you didn’t want to go, you just fell asleep as soon as your head had hit your pillow, your phone discarded on your dresser. Now look where that landed you.

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for the non-vocal i love you what about jughead helping her through a panic/anxiety attack if you are okay with that content?

TW - Anxiety attack.

Her eyes glazed with tears as she stared in front of her, trying to keep her breathing even and ignore the sudden loud heart-beat in her ears. But she couldn’t. Her hands had started shaking as soon as she looked at the state of her locker, and it wasn’t helping that a crowd had formed around her.

Go to hell, serpent slut.

The words painted in what she hoped was just red paint rang through her like an echo in an empty room, chilling her, hurting her. But the doll on the noose was what did it for her. She wouldn’t openly admit it but she was fragile, and she was easily hurt. So seeing a doll on a noose hanging on her locker that had blood on it, it stroked up one thought: someone wanted her dead.

Everything was blurry by the time she felt a hand on her arm, before it was on her cheek, turning her head to look at them. Blue eyes was what she saw, and she knew who it was, but she couldn’t process it at that moment.

“The- I- the locker-“ she tried to get out, but breathing was suddenly a difficult task and it felt like her throat was being clogged up by oncoming tears.

“I know, I know. Come on.” He tried to tell her, his hand at her arm trying to pull her in another direction with him, though she shook her head and pulled away.

“No- no it’s just spray paint.” She choked out, more trying to convince herself than anything as she reached forwards to try and attempt to rip the papers off of her locker, though the first sob ripped through her chest as his arm caught her waist and he tugged her shaking frame backwards.

“I don’t think that’s spray paint.” She heard his voice at her ear before he practically carried her down the corridor away from her locker and what felt like the rest of the school.

She was on the verge of hyperventilating once he’d gotten her into an empty classroom and sat her against the door, sinking down in front of her as he took her hands. Though they were away from everybody else, nothing had ever felt so loud. She felt like she was drowning in the panic she felt.

“Hey, hey hey hey, I need you to breathe, okay?” His hands were on her cheeks, tilting her head to look at him, but the tears just rolled down her face faster as she just gasped in air. Her chest burned and hurt, but she physically couldn’t take any air in.

He looked panicked, from what she could see through her tears, his hands at her cheeks before on her shoulders and on her arms - panicking too.

It was another moment before he took one of her shaking and sweaty hands and placed it against his chest, over his heart. “Feel that?” He asked, and she nodded when she felt the slightly-quickened heartbeat thumping against his ribs and through his chest, onto her hand. “Count, okay? Count it for me.”

She was crying again, sobs wracking through her like she had a defibrillator being used on her, but she tried to take in a deep breath as she started counting.

One two.

Her eyes squeezed shut and her free hand found his, holding it tightly like she never had before.

Three four.

Her body was still shaking but she was able to start taking in slightly deeper breaths, the burning in her chest getting slightly lighter with every breath she took in.

Five six.

Her hands were shaking though she was able to get a better grip on him, her hand holding onto his even tighter, in which he reciprocated with a squeeze of his own.

By the time she’d reached thirty she collapsed against him, exhausted and worn out, despite the quiet cries that still left her.

Jughead wound his arms around her tightly and pulled her into his lap, letting her nuzzle her face into her neck as she took in deep breaths. Her hands fisted the back of his shirt as she relaxed completely against him as the cries just turned to quiet sniffles and silent tears, absolutely spent.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered into his neck, and he just held onto her tighter as he shook his head.

“No, no don’t be sorry. Okay? You’re okay, love.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ve got you.”

Rogues with a tall s/o?? I think that'd be an interesting dynamic 🫠

The Height Dynamic

The Riddler: He actually didn't notice until several months into the relationship. It was only until he turned and had to look up to meet your eyes that he paused. "Why are you so tall? Have you always been this tall?" It's the topic of conversation for a moment before he waves it off and continues his genius ramblings about something you tuned out ages ago.

Scarecrow: He doesn't care. No really, he doesn't care. He doesn't even pause when you meet his height if not taller. Which is usually not the case for Jonathan as he was tall himself. Not a pause, not a blink or the smallest bit of hesitation. He clearly didn't feel inferior at all or challenged by you in anyway. After all, your height wouldn't help you.

Two-Face: Harvey doesn't care, but Harv is sensitive about it. "Nah, this ain't right, this ain't right. We've always been taller!" Harv huffed. "Of all things to be upset over in this world, you've chosen (Y/N)'s height?" Harvey groaned. "How are we supposed to get our way if they have to look DOWN to us? Now we'll just look like an small angry man!"

Black Mask: he's very sensitive about it. Almost like you did it on purpose and how very dare you. Roman isn't exactly tall for a man. So to have a partner taller just points that out more and he can't stand it. Like you stripped his masculinity from him. It's actually kinda sad. He does like them legs though...

Mad Hatter: He's very attracted. His favourite part is your legs because they're longer. Oh, how he'd love to dress you up. Oh, please let him! His eyes are always all over you. His associates often joke that he salivates... and that really isn't far from the truth. Flirt with him, and he'll be a blushing mess.

the absolute INSANITY of the pushing your s/o away thing with the crazy ass boy gang… it’s like triggering a dog’s prey drive but for serial killers w abandonment issues

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + PUSHING THEIR HAND AWAY/REJECTING AFFECTION

❥ who gets pissed the fuck off ❥

Billy Loomis - Is irritated off rip. Billy plays it cool but he needs physical affection from you. He’s casual about it so he flies under the radar, but this is a stage five clinger. He’s always doing something small. Touching your fingers. A hand on your back. Neck. Sitting behind you instead of putting you directly in his lap. It’s little stuff. Hovering. Smack his hand away one of these times and his jaw clenches right away. “What the hell is your problem?” Please snuggle up to him and don’t start world war 3. It’s not worth the joke. 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Quick question, why do this to yourself? Kevin does not need, nor does he particularly enjoy, physical contact. Period. He is gracious enough to give you physical contact because he knows you’re built different (pathetic). For you to then turn around and spit in the face of him being kind enough to meet your needs? …. Quite crazy of you. The look he gives you is pure confusion because he’s honest to God baffled. What do you want to accomplish here? Go ahead and start begging now, because he’s not touching you for a long while. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Swings wildly between damn near dodging any physical affection you attempt to give him to hanging off you like a squid on a ship. No in-between. For you to have the audacity to reject him when he’s feeling clingy? How dare you. He doesn’t have to beg anyone for attention! Did you forget who you’re dating? Doesn’t even care if you did it with obvious playfulness. He’s sensitive. He’s tender. He’s a bitch. He goes to get up and leave entirely and you have to grab him and beg him to cuddle so this doesn’t become a week long cold war. Happy ego stroking! 

Stu Macher - What you’re not about to do is ruin his mood. Baby, he’s about to ruin yours. How about that? If you push his hands off you once he enjoys a little playful bitchiness. Playing hard to get. He likes to chase, it’s cool. Twice? Okay…. We’re irritating him. Three times? He’s gonna grab your hand, stop smiling, and stare at you. When he places his hand back where it belongs, on your thigh, don’t act up again. He could make your whole week go to shit. Don’t start wars you won’t win. He’s the king of playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes. 

Nathan Prescott - Has to bluster and get visibly pissed off because he is rejection sensitive to a degree that is astounding, frankly. Let you see him upset after he tried to be affectionate and you said no? Hah! Not fucking likely. Being physically affectionate in the first place doesn’t come easy to him. Quality time is more his speed. Even worse if it wasn’t a sexual advance he was making. He tried to wrap an arm around you and you shrug him off? You’ll be lucky to get a hello out of him for the next week. Good luck soldier.

David Mccall - Outwardly, he pretends to be despondent and sheepish when you bat his hand away. He’s using sadness as a shield. If he’s sad then you might feel bad and give in. He’ll use any tool in his arsenal to get his way. One of his greatest skills is speaking in a soft voice, just shy of how you’d speak to a toddler, and telling you: “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” This is all to hide the fact that you rejecting him in any way, shape, or form makes him so angry he can barely think. You might be able to catch the rage hidden behind the veil. If you’re quick enough. David puts on a convincing show, but his gentle smile is twitching at the edges.

❥ who gets sad and mopey ❥

Jordan Li - Oh you pushed them away? No, that’s cool, it’s totally fine. You can want space. Everyone’s entitled to their own space bubble. Of course. Are you having a bad day? Are you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Did they piss you off? These are the types of questions Jordan is going to “casually” ask for the next ten minutes while they sit really close to you. They’re not touching you! They always sit with their legs spread so wide. Their arm isn’t around you, it’s on the back of the couch. You’re nitpicking here, babe. They’re staring at you with their big brown eyes. No, they didn’t get any closer while you weren’t looking. 

Josh Washington - Why would you do this to him? Don’t push his hand off you unless you mean it or you’re being obviously playful about it. If you pretend to be mad at him while you do it, no matter how unconvincing of an actor you are, he will believe you. Sensitive king. He also won’t go to touch you again until you initiate the contact. Physical touch is reassuring and comforting to him but even he (category five clinger) gets touch aversion at times. As observant as he is, he knows some people are uncomfortable asserting their boundaries, so they’ll try to soften the blow of saying no by being “playful”. He cannot take the risk! You could mean it but don’t want to hurt his feelings. Josh interprets many playful no’s as real ones. Better safe than sorry.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Sebastian Valmont - Doesn’t take it for anything more than what it is. If you’re being playful he recognizes it. If you’re seriously not wanting to be touched at any given moment he understands that as well. However, in the case of being playful, you’ve started a war you can’t win. Because, as much as Sebastian enjoys chasing you…  Sebastian also likes to be chased. Ten minutes from now you’ll go to give Sebastian’s cheek a kiss and he’s going to dodge you. Hard. To such an extent it’s bordering on insult. He’ll be wearing a cat that got the canary grin all the while. 

Jason Dean/JD - Doesn’t take you seriously even if you are dead serious. I’m sorry, you’ve discovered his worst character trait by far. Most boundaries are a joke to him. He always wants to touch you. He loves you! He craves you like a drug. You should feel the same for him, in equal measure and desperation. So why wouldn’t you want him touching you? Holding you close. He’s so gentle with you (usually). His arms should feel like home. No matter how long a day you’ve had. No matter how overwhelmed you might be with sound, sight, touch. In JD’s eyes you’re one soul in two bodies. He always wants you near. He knows you want the same. You’re just a little dramatic sometimes.

Catch Me

Peter Pan x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Dark Reader, mentions of torture, violence and murder.

(It’s like, stupid short)

MASTERLIST

The clouds glistened in the sunset around us as we floated through the sky. Peter lay on his back in the air, and I sat, straddling his hips as we enjoyed the quiet.

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3am. (Reggie Mantle x Reader)

Summary: Reggie climbs through Y/N’s window.

Word Count: 1,025

Gif not mine. Requests are open!

Warnings ~ Mentions of abuse?

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A soft thud causes me to jolt awake. My phone reads the time 3:45. Rubbing my eyes, I scan my bedroom, searching for the cause of the noise. By my bedroom window, stands a tall figure. Quietly, shifting towards my bathroom as though not to distrurb me.

“Reggie. What are you doing?” I ask, turning on the lamp beside my bed.

He stops mid stride, I can see him take a deep breath. Turning he moves to sit next to me on the bed. My lamp only carries enough light to illuminate half of Reggie’s face. Despite that I can still see the large bruise forming around his eye.

“What the fuck happened to you Reg?” I ask, taking his face in my hands to examine how bad it will swell.

He moves away from me slightly, not daring to look me in my eyes. I’ve never seen Reggie like this before, not after a normal fight at least.

“My dad and I got into an argument. He didn’t like what I had to say.” He admits, voice shaky.

My heart breaks, as I watch Reggie make his way to my bathroom. He’s so afraid to be vulnerable, determined to keep up his brave and masculine appearance. He grew up being told that showing any form of emotion is a sign of weakness. That he needs to be an arrogant and cocky asshole to get anywhere in life.

Removing from the warmth of my blanket, I walk over to my bathroom. Reggie’s shirt is on the floor, he’s silently looking in the mirror. Bruises litter his sides and back. How bad was their argument?

“I’m fine Y/N.” He tells me, waving me away as though he doesn’t need or want my help.

I stay quiet as I open up the cooler by my cupboard. Usually I store drinks in there but recently with the fights between the northside and southside I’ve been storing ice packs in there. Just in case Reggie turns up at my house like this.

Gripping his arm lightly, I turn him to look at me. Standing on my tiptoes, I gently press the ice pack to his eye. He flinches away at first. Still not really accepting my help. However he takes the ice pack from me and holds it to his eye without too much fuss.

Grabbing another ice pack, I begin to apply it to each bruise in turn. Hoping it will help at least a little bit. Moving Reggie’s hand from his eye, I look at the bruise. It’s beginning to swell but if he keep the ice pack on it, hopefully it will help.

He puts the ice pack on once again and I lean against the counter. Watching as he continues to stare at himself. I bet he thinks that the bruises are going to ruin the masterpiece that is his body.

“You know you’re really distracting when you’re stood in nothing but a bra and panties.” Reggie tells me, his voice quiet but still there.

I smile at him, at his comment, before picking up his shirt and pulling it over my head. It comes as no surprise when it reaches mid thigh. Hanging off me like a dress. He laughs at this, the sound like music to my ears.

Placing the ice pack of the countertop he lifts me up, seating me on the counter. I sit on my knees, staring up at my boyfriend. He looks tired, so tired. Yet I know he tries hard to hide it.

“I can see you staring.” He whispers, smiling down at me.

Glancing away from him, I look towards the floor. Embarrassed for being caught staring. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, tilting my face to look at him.

“I’m fine Y/N. Honestly, I’m fine.”

I don’t believe him. I can tell this is hurting him more than anything. Not necessarily physically but more emotionally. He just wants a real father, someone who actually cares about him. Right now, he doesn’t have that.

“I just don’t like seeing you hurt Reg.” I admit, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his defined chest.

His arms fall loosely around my back, rubbing it gently. As if to comfort me. Closing my eyes, I focus on his heartbeat. As long as his heart is beating then I have everything I need.

Pulling back, I raise myself up. So I’m in more of a kneeling position. I wrap my arms around his neck, his deep brown eyes focused on mine.

“Do you have to go back there?” I ask, not wanting him to get hurt again. I don’t want to lose him.

“I have to Y/N. It’s my home.” He states, arms wrapped around my waist.

“Why have I never met your parents?” I ask, staring down at his chest rather than his eyes.

I can see he is at a loss for words, unsure how to answer my question. Does he even have a valid answer? Maybe, maybe not. Whatever it is, I’m sure there is a reason.

“My parents can be very judgemental. They like to make assumptions about a person before they’ve really met. I wouldn’t want them doing that to you and I don’t want them to hurt you.” He admits, his sentences slow as if he is thinking about what words he should use.

Looking into his eyes again, I can see he is telling the truth. Nodding my head, I show that I understand. That I understand what he is talking about.

His grip on me tightens and I feel him lifting me from the counter. My legs instantly wrap around his waist, locking together. I feel his hands move from their position on my waist to my ass.

I smile at Reggie as he begins to walk us back through to my bedroom.

Collapsing on the bed, he holds himself up above me. With his forehead against mine he kisses me gently, our lips locking together. Once out of breath, he falls beside me. Pulling me closer as I begin to fall asleep in his arms.