#started writing. drank tequila. here we are

[try-set-me-on-fire]

If you’re still taking soft prompts - can I request buddie in the bathtub? 🧡🧡🧡

I’ll count this under “long showers” because i do love to check off a to do list. Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on ao3!

It isn’t long into this apocalyptic fire season when they decide to take opposite shifts. It’s awful, being out here in the hills working himself to the bone without Buck at his side, and even worse when Buck is the one at the front line and Eddie is sitting at home and helpless to do anything if something goes wrong. It’s October, though, and the city has been staring up at flames on the horizon on and off since August, the sky a choking reddish gray, and after the first evacuation order for their neighborhood went out when they were both in turnouts up in Malibu beating back the other edge of the 200 acre blaze and they’d had to talk Carla through what to pack and where to find important documents over a call turned staticky by phone lines overtaxed by the scared and desperate, they’d decided that Christopher should have one of his parents with him whenever possible. So it’s been Buck for the last 30 hours that should have been 24 but replacements were held up in some other hellish pocket of usually picturesque landscape, stranding Eddie, and some members of the 133 and many people he’s never met before who aren’t even from LA, up near the Getty Villa. He’d been there just last spring, a field trip with Chris. The gardens had been nice.

Finally, finally he’s headed home. They’re back in the house again, for the third time. The fire itself had never actually gotten close, but they’d always returned to ash caked thick over the building, working its way through any crack in the house to coat their things in fine toxic dust. They’d spent their last overlapping downtime cleaning together, Chris still at Maddie’s place a little further out of the danger zone, washing everything that could be washed in water they’d been warned not to drink. That had been a full week ago. Eddie hadn’t seen his husband for more than a quick kiss hello-goodbye since, and he’s uselessly mad that the 24 hours they were supposed to have together before Buck heads out has been cut down to something more like 15 with travel time, and that he’s so exhausted he knows he’s going to sleep through most of it. He can hear Buck in the kitchen when he gets through the door and then slumps back against it, kicking off his shoes. It’s late, near one AM, so Chris is probably asleep even at the terribly old age of 14 where official bedtimes are mostly a thing of the past. Eddie can smell food of some sort. If he can just make himself walk a few more feet he’ll have a hot meal and loving arms around him. He takes a deep breath, head tilted against the door, eyes closed, trying to summon some impossible reserve of energy.

Buck, of course, comes to him.

“Hey,” he hears, soft and familiar, a moment before warm hands slide up his chest and rest on his shoulders. Eddie opens his eyes so he can just see Buck for a second before he folds forward into his arms.

“Hey, you,” he breathes into Buck’s clean shirt. Buck just hums, and kisses the side of his head. Eddie should tell him not to, he’s still filthy, but it just makes him relax further into his hold.

“You want food or a shower first?”

“Oh god,” Eddie lolls his head back to squint at him. “Dunno if I can stay upright long enough for either.”

Buck grins just a little, one half of his mouth, an eyebrow raised, and points a finger in the air. “I have a two part solution to this.”

Eddie laughs through his nose. “Please, enlighten me.”

Buck takes his hand, pulling him along to their bathroom and propping him up against that door instead, making a show of it and drawing more quieter laughter out of Eddie. “Wait just a second,” he says, kissing his cheek and darting back out to the kitchen and returning in record time with a still warm quesadilla on a paper plate. It’s cut into sixths and Eddie gratefully stuffs a triangle into his mouth as Buck moves around the room. He zones out a little, blinking when Buck appears in front of him again some amount of minutes later. He’s cleared the plate without even noticing, and Buck takes it from him and sets it on the counter.

“Figured it’d be good to make an easily eatable food. No utensils needed! All self-contained!” Buck smiles wide and pleased with himself and Eddie smiles back, and pulls him in for a clumsy little kiss.

“Good step one,” Eddie concedes, still sort of pressed against his lips. “What’s next?”

Buck gestures at the tub, now full of steaming water. “So you don’t have to stand up.”

Eddie could blame the fact that he tears up on how tired he is, but he gets blindsided by Buck’s gentle care often enough when he’s completely awake to know it would be a flimsy excuse. He tugs on him again, kissing him steadily, one hand coming up to hold his face as he tries to start undressing with the other. Buck huffs a little against his mouth, and joins his own hands in the effort, getting Eddie’s pants and underwear off, kissing him a little harder before they have to part to rid him of his shirt. Eddie leans in again, but Buck dodges.

“C’mon, get in.”

Eddie tries to pout at him, but it’s ruined by the adoration writ in every feature. Buck holds his elbow to steady him as he steps over the edge of the tub, provides strength to lean on as he lowers himself into the water. He groans a little as he’s submerged, the almost too hot water eating away at the aches in his muscles. Buck grabs his body wash as Eddie settles back against the edge of the tub, and lathers up a washcloth.

“Is it ok to even do this? Water advisory is still on.” Eddie mumbles as Buck starts carefully cleaning away dirt and soot.

“Just don’t swallow,” Buck says, voice shaped around a laugh that Eddie lets out. He taps on Eddie’s shoulder so he leans forward, and Buck scrubs at his neck and shoulders, taking his time over the left one. Eddie had stumbled up on a slope somewhere in the early morning dark towards the beginning of his shift, and he hadn’t had the time to check but he was pretty sure he’d gotten scratched up back there. Eddie watches Buck’s face. He looks concerned, but only gently, so it must not be too bad. Buck kisses the area when he’s done, and then hands Eddie the cloth to get at the submerged parts of himself as Buck grabs the shampoo. Eddie cleans himself quickly, and he can tell Buck wants to take the cloth back and make more careful work of it, but Eddie plugs his nose and dunks his head underwater before he can say anything. He wipes water away from his face when he reemerges, then leans over and leaves a wet handprint on Buck’s shirt as he goes for another kiss.

“Please,” Eddie says, nodding at the shampoo.

Eddie is not a man used to being taken care of- not in an intimate, physical way. The 118, and Frank, and even his family, have dragged him into accepting care and support from those around him, but relaxing enough to let another human being touch him, surrendering control, letting someone else do the work of maintaining his body is something that took him a long time to admit he wanted. Buck has always been good at finding ways to burrow past any wall Eddie constructs, however, and it had only taken three showers together after they’d started dating to discover how much they both enjoy it when Buck washes Eddie’s hair. Buck just likes touching him in general, in any way, as much as he can, and Eddie had been glad to overcome shyness and indulge him in the impulse.

Buck glides foamy fingers through his hair, combing out tangles and dirt as he goes. He works so slowly, paying absolute attention to the task at hand. His fingers against Eddie’s scalp makes the aches and fear of the day (the week, the last several months) melt away into the bath water. He relaxes utterly into his husband’s hands, very nearly lulling into sleep and not even worrying much about it. He knows Buck will keep him above water.

“Hold your breath,” Buck quietly instructs, and then there are rivers of water flowing over his scalp and face, again and again until he’s clean. He opens his eyes when it’s over, and Buck has his chin propped on his arm resting on the edge of the tub, just watching him. He smiles when they make eye contact.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers.

“Hey, you,” Buck says, tilting his head. He’s beautiful. He’s kneeling on the tile floor and his shirt is soaked and filthy and it’s probably closer to two now, judging by how tepid the water’s become, and it’s felt like the end of the world since August and probably since a long time before that, and here they are in it together, and Buck is beautiful. Eddie reaches out to touch his cheek.

“Conditioner?”

Eddie thinks about it as his fingers explore his nose, trace his birthmark for the thousandth time, but he shakes his head. The water is cold. “I want to go to bed.”

“Ok,” Buck says, turning his head quick to kiss Eddie’s fingers before getting up to grab a towel as Eddie pulls the drain. Buck gracefully ignores the ache-y noises Eddie makes as he stands, wrapping him up and leaving to grab clothes. He gives himself a onceover in the foggy mirror as he brushes his teeth. He’s looked worse, but he’s looked better. Buck comes in with sweatpants and an old Buckley LAFD shirt that’s permanently migrated to Eddie’s side of the dresser.

“You should probably change, yourself,” Eddie waves at the run off filth down Buck’s front. “Sorry.”

Buck shakes his head. “Probably should have stripped too,” he says, tossing in a wink because the sentence calls for it, heading back out for his own change of clothes.

Eddie follows, and then walks on tender feet further down the hall, opening Chris’s door as quietly as he can. His calm breathing competes for noise over the air purifier a few feet from his bed. There’s a book on his bedside table, and his DS on top of that, and the dinosaur stuffed animal Buck had got him at the natural history museum years ago that had lived on a shelf for a long time when he’d outgrown it is back on the bed beside him. He’s not as sound a sleeper as he was when he was a child, and Eddie can’t go to his side and press a kiss into his curls without waking him up, and they could all use any rest they can find, so he stays in the doorway and just watches until Buck comes to find him.

“He’s alright,” Buck whispers. “You know how brave he is.” He looks as haunted by the words as Eddie feels.

“Yeah,” he breathes, taking one last look. “I know.”

They walk back down the hall hand in hand, and Buck lets Eddie lead him to one side of the bed, laughing as Eddie pulls him down on top of him. With just a little bit of wiggling they’re able to get situated under the covers, Buck draped over his chest in the way he insists is comfortable and Eddie can never figure out how he manages without his neck getting stiff. He’ll never tell him to stop, though. Laying there with the weight of Buck over his heart is the safest place in the world, and always draws him immediately towards sleep. Eddie manages to resist the pull long enough to glance at the clock. 2:15. Buck has to leave at noon. He sighs and wraps his arms around him, and Buck burrows impossibly closer. For now. They have right now.

#started writing. drank tequila. here we are #hopefully its coherent #buddie #my writing #911 abc #new era…. #eddie diaz #evan buckley

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!�� You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #beefy!eddie munson #farmer!eddie munson #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #chocolate button eyes #eddie my baby #older!eddie munson x reader smut #mean!reader #bratty!reader #stranger things au

[totalswag]

how much did you drink? — RAFE CAMERON

authors note hi loves!! i know i disappeared for awhile, my personal life got extremely busy and i never had time to write on my computer. i'm so excited to be back and writing for you guys though. this fic has been in my google doc for small minute and i got a request from an anon somewhat similar to this fic too, lol.

summary y/n getting a little too drunk at a party and rafe has to come pick her up

warnings drinking, swearing, smoking, sexual tension, implied smut?

Lets face it, you were drunk, like really drunk.

You made the decision to come out on a Saturday night with Sarah to John B’s. People dancing, making out everywhere, smoking, drinking, along with loud music.

As the night progressed you were on the table dancing with your best friend with bottles of tequila in your hands, everyone cheering you two on as you continued dancing.

“I’m having so much fun tonight” your words are slurring at this point. 

“Me too,” your friend giggled.

Topper and Kelce shook their heads while they stood near the kitchen. Rafe, your boyfriend, told Topper and Kelce to watch you simply because he wasn't at the party.

“She's about to do something dumb” Topper murmurs, and Kelce nods in agreement.

Kelce replies, "I think it's time we called Rafe."

Topper calls Rafe, while Kelce tries to get you off the table but fails when you say no and to go away so you can drink more. Kelce turns around, sending Topper the clear message that Rafe needs to arrive as quickly as possible.

"Yo, Rafe, sorry for bothering you, but Y/N is really drunk and dancing on the table, and she won't listen to us" Topper scratched his chin, glancing at Kelce, who was attempting to get you off the table.

"Are you being serious?" Rafe must have been in a deep sleep based on the sound of his voice. 

"Yeah, could you pick her up?" He begs.

Topper can hear Rafe's end shifting, "I'll be there soon, just keep an eye on here, please." Rafe sighs and hangs up the phone. 

Meanwhile, Topper and Kelce were eventually able to get you off the table by claiming a drinking game was about to begin, which was correct. You stood in the kitchen with the guys and few other friends watching while others set out the red solo cups on the board.

Your friends came into the kitchen to see what you were doing and they were worried about you because they couldn’t find you.

"These two have me on lock down so I don't drink anymore but oddly waiting to play a drinking game," you add, staring at the girls before wandering your gaze over to Kelce and Topper, who are in the middle of a conversation with a few of their buddies.

Your friends laugh, shaking their heads, telling you, you should still be drinking and having fun.

"I'm so drunk right now, it's not even funny," you hiccuped as your body swayed back and forth, almost knocking you off your feet.

Topper leaned over the counter, grabbing you before you fell.

"Y/N, please drink the water," he says as he puts the water bottle out to you, you look at him, shaking your head as you push it away with your hand.

"Drink the water now, Y/N, we're going home," your boyfriend said, filling your ears. You circle around, placing your arms around his waist, excited. 

"You guys are no fun," you scoff.

"That hangover isn't going to be fun in the morning," Rafe responds. 

“How much did you drink baby?” he asks, lifting your chin up, making eye contact with you.

“I drank a lot and smoked too” you answered truthly, hiccuping.

"You are so hot, I could just fu-" you run your hands down his stomach, removing his shirt a little and gliding your hands on his exposed skin. Rafe stopped you before you could complete your sentence.

Usually when you drink too much and Rafe’s around you get very touchy with him and start saying unholy words from your mouth which leads to fucking or you need to really sober up. You can’t stop but think of how good he looks right now.

Rafe comes to these types of parties with you but tonight he wasn’t feeling it. He trusts you going to parties with your friends or the guys cause he knows you would never do anything that can hurt your relationship.

"All right, that's enough for the night. "Seriously, drink the water," he says, twisting the cap and handing you the water to sip. You realized nothing else would work, so you drank the water.

Rafe watched as you drank the water. When you get this drunk no one else can handle you unless it’s Rafe because he’s been around you enough to know. Your best friends get drunk with you so them being drunk trying to help you too doesn’t make the situation better.

When you finished the water, you wrapped your arms around Rafe, nuzzling your face in his chest mumbling words. He took it as a sign that you were ready to leave the party.

“We’ll walk you two out” Topper suggested to Rafe.

“Yeah that would be helpful, thank you” picking you up in braid style.

You lifted your head from Rafe's chest, confused as to why he began guiding you from the kitchen to the front door. "Why are we leaving?" you asked as you pulled away. "I want to stay," you protest, pointing back to your friends. 

Rafe sighs, closing his eyes, "baby you are drunk and have been drinking a lot" he pauses, "you need to rest too" you pout.

“Say goodnight to them real quick,”

When you walk back to the kitchen your friends eye’s light up but faces drop when you tell them you were saying goodnight. They told you to be safe and see you tomorrow.

“I better get dick out of this” you sarcastically state, making the girls laugh.

“I love you girls” you wave as you leave the kitchen.

You flip Rafe off as you walk past him, giving him a blank stare. He throws his hands in the air, shaking his head, then follows you out the door.

The car ride to his house took five minutes. You were knocked out in the passenger seat curled up in a ball. You woke up when you felt the truck come to a complete stop. Rafe opened the door, carrying you inside.

You start singing a song from the party when you enter the Cameron household. Rafe chuckled as he locked the door then came behind you.

“You need to stay quiet because everyone's sleeping,” Rafe whispered softly.

“Oh my bad” you quickly stop, putting your hand over your mouth.

He lays you on his bed and goes in his closet for clothes for you. He comes back with sweats and one of your favorite t-shirts of his. Before you could lift your shirt, he stopped you.

“Let me do it please” he kisses your cheek.

He led you into the bathroom to remove your makeup and then dab water on your face to freshen it up before taking you into bed. When you spent the night, there was Advil and ice water on your side of the bed. 

Rafe could tell you were still drunk by your facial expressions.

In your drunken state, seeing the Advil and water on the nightstand warms your heart, "Thank you baby," you look up, then pop the Advil in your mouth and take a long sip of the water. 

"Need to make sure my girl is okay," he grins.

"How about we get into bed and sleep?" He then pulls you both into bed.

You quickly close your eyes when your head makes contact with his chest.

my taglist 🧚🏼‍♀️

if you would like to be added to my taglist let me know!!

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @brooklynscherry-z @kaydsr3venge

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #outer banks x reader #rafe fic #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x you #rafe cameron angst #drew starkey imagines

[reiderwriter]

🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷

Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.

Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient 🫡). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳

Check out my masterlist here~

“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.

“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.

“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.

You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.

They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.

“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.

“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”

“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.

For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.

You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.

“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.

“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.

You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.

From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.

“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.

“I'm not.”

“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.

“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”

“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”

“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.

And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.

“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.

“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.

His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.

He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.

“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”

“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.

“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.

“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”

“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”

To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.

“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.

“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”

“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.

“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.

You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.

“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”

“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.

“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”

You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.

No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.

“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”

“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.

You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.

But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.

“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[bloodynereid]

PLEASE do something with rooster and gn neutral reader where it’s set after the big mission and everyone has stayed together at top gun and rooster and reader got together and now they’re like the most insufferable duo ever?? like not only do they hardcore flirt EVERYWHERE but also they play pranks on everyone they can possibly find?? like they will find a way to do the MOST elaborate pranks on everyone INCLUDING their superiors?? i just think it would be HILARIOUS!! - 🧚🏻

House of Cards

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x gn! reader

tw: kissing, swearing, anxiety, jokes, mentions of buzzing the tower, drinking alcohol, mentions of marriage

description: you and bradley were a match made in heaven but a nightmare to everyone else.

a/n: hiii🧚🏻anon <3 i hope this is what you envisioned! it was super fun to write and im definitely in my bradley era. there's also a few little easter eggs thrown in there. i hope you enjoy and excuse some of the shitty writing in a few parts, i only read through this twice.

ahfhsufgeg he's so fine

The aftermath of the suicide mission was spent in multiple bars (mainly the Hard Deck) and getting drunk beyond belief. That led to a variety of messy pool games, slurred singing and some potentially regretful decisions.

One of those decisions was you kissing Rooster right after you beat his ass at pool. The rush of adrenaline and tequila gave you the confidence you had been lacking since you met him during his first round at Top Gun.

Surprisingly that decision was not one you regretted the morning after. Or the week after… or the month after. Rooster had kissed you back with a fire that had you stumbling around near drunk on his lips alone for the days afterward.

The Navy had decided to make a special detachment after the success of the mission so you were all stationed at Top Gun for the foreseeable future. They also managed to promote Maverick (not without a whole lot of persuading) so he was now overseeing the detachment.

“This is nice.” You muttered as your eyes blearily opened. The sun was shining through the curtains and a heavy arm was settled over your arm.

“Hmm too early.” Rooster mumbled from his spot next to you.

“Rooster, we have the barbeque today… you said we were telling Mav today.”

“Oh shit, right.” He groaned out before cuddling back into you. You hated having to leave this little cocoon of warmth but you really had to get going.

“Baby…”

“Yes, yup, getting up now.”

It took another twenty minutes before you finally got out of bed and started to make coffee and toast. The sound of running water greeted your ears as you got ready for the day and drank your coffee while scrolling through your phone.

“Thanks for breakfast.” Bradley said as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and gave you a quick peck.

“No problem, love. Ready to go?”

“Yup.”

The blue bronco sped through the streets of San Diego. The sun warmed up your skin and a smile was painted on your face as you chatted with Rooster. Today was going to be good.

“We’re here.” Bradley announced as he parked in front of Penny’s house. A few familiar cars were also parked outside, it seemed like you were the last to arrive.

“I told you we were going to be late.” You chidded as you lightly slapped his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah.” Bradley said with a smile on his face before pulling you into him and kissing you in an effort to distract you.

“Oh god, why did you two ever get together?” The familiar voice of Hangman cut the moment short, making the both of you roll your eyes.

“Hello there Bagman, I was hoping you fell off a cliff on the way here.”

“Well hello there Royal aren’t you as cheery as ever.”

“Fuck off, Bagman.” Rooster said from next to you.

“Gladly, I do not need to watch your excessive PDA.”

“I’m surprised you even know what the word excessive means.” You called as he walked towards the house, Jake only sent you the bird without looking back.

“Where was I?” Bradley muttered as he cradled your face and was about to kiss you again when you laughed.

“Bradley, darling, even if I would love to keep doing this, we really have to go in.”

“Alright, but we’re finishing this later.”

You carried the six pack of beer that Bradley insisted on bringing and made your way over to where the smoke from the barbeque was emanating from. Bradley finished locking up the car and threw his arm over your shoulders.

“You ready?” You nodded in answer to his question and suddenly the smell of hamburgers permeated your senses.

“Royal, Rooster! I’m so glad you could make it. Make yourselves at home.” Penny said with a bright smile as she welcomed the two of you.

“Thanks for inviting us, Penny. We brought beer!” You said as you passed her the six pack.

“With the rate they’re drinking it, it would be a miracle if I have any alcohol left in this house.” You laughed and Penny gave you both a smile before disappearing into the house to drop off the beer.

“You want to go find Mav?”

“Yeah, do you want to come?”

“No, you go. I’ll go talk to Bob, I started that show he recommended.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go talk to Mav, Bradley. Call me over when you’re ready.” Bradley smiled and gave you a grateful look before walking over to the grill. You let out a deep breath and felt a surge of nervousness course through your body. Meeting the parents was never something you particularly enjoyed, even if you had already met Mav a billion times, you never met him in the capacity of being a partner.

“Hey Bob.”

“Royal. How are you?” Bob asked as he passed you a beer from one of the tables.

“Good, nervous.”

“Finally telling Mav?”

“Yeah, is it that noticeable?”

“Not really.”

“You really are a stealth pilot, Bob.” Bob rolled his eyes as he took a swig of beer and knocked his shoulder against yours. That was when you noticed Bradley waving at you from next to Mav. You nodded and said bye to Bob before weaving your way through your squad to greet him.

“Hey Mav, Rooster.” You said, greeting them.

“So what are your intentions with Bradley, Royal?” Mav said with raised eyebrows and an intense look in his eyes that had your brain screeching to a halt.

“Uhh.” A few seconds later, Mav’s face contorted and he started laughing hysterically.

“God your face! Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m pretty sure I should be interrogating Bradley here about his intentions with you.”

“Hey!” Bradley yelled, making you and Mav chuckle.

You were sitting in the sweltering briefing room next to Bradley. Cyclone was standing at the front of the room talking about the new assignment and giving the training parameters but your mind was elsewhere.

Bradley kept rubbing circles on your exposed forearm and it was driving you insane. You kept nudging his knee with yours but that only seemed to urge him to keep going.

“Royal, is there a problem?” Your eyes flew up to meet Cyclone’s and a feeling of dread seemed to seep out of your pores.

“No, sir.”

“Well then if you wouldn’t mind keeping your flirting to a minimum, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Snickers filled the room and you turned to look at Bradley with a menacing look in your eyes. You lightly punched his arm and settled back into your chair.

“Sorry.” Bradley whispered, not sounding sorry at all.

“Oh shut up.”

It was a routine practice flight, Mav had randomly pulled names and paired people up so they could make their way through the planned course.

You and Rooster had made it through in record time and were now loudly celebrating over the coms.

“Fuck yeah!”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Rooster asked as you circled back around.

“Oh definitely.” You shared a laugh before you flew over to the control tower. You caught a glimpse of Mav and Cyclone in the window before flying behind Rooster as the two of you buzzed the tower.

“Royal! Rooster!” The admonishing voice of Cyclone bled through the coms.

“God I really was a little shit when I was younger.” Maverick said through the coms as he let out an exasperated sigh.

You and Rooster just laughed and circled around a few times before landing, ready to be thoroughly lectured by Cyclone.

The squad had planned a trip after the newest mission… to Vegas. The entire trip there was incredibly chaotic because (*cough* Hangman *cough*) was scared of flying, even if he was literally a pilot. 

When you all finally landed in Vegas it took another hour before everyone had found their bags and got into respective ubers. The hotel that Phoenix had booked was perfect, it had a huge bar as well as an extensive casino.

Sometime after drinking at least five martinis and a few shots you and Rooster disappeared from the group. Something no one noticed until the next morning. You spent the night cuddled up in your hotel room watching tv and coming up with the perfect plan.

The next morning the squad disgruntledly made their way to the breakfast bar, very hungover and missing several of its members.

“Uh guys, where are Royal and Rooster?” Bob murmured once everyone (minus the couple) had sat at one of the tables.

“I haven’t seen them since last night.”

“You don’t think…” Phoenix looked up from her plate that was stacked with pancakes and looked at Bob with a panicked look on her face.

“Someone call them.”

Before anyone could do that a simultaneous ping came from everyone’s phones. 2 new messages were displayed on the group chat.

Royal: When in Vegas…

*image attached*

The couple had ventured out into town around dawn and got a picture of one of the many Elvis churches that littered the streets. You weren’t actually getting married but the reactions of each of the Daggers and Mav was fucking priceless.

And who knows getting married was definitely in the cards for both of you.

<333

#bradley bradshaw #maria's random stuff #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #tgm #top gun #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #bradley x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader

[rose-tinted-glasses671]

Echo Chambers Inside A Neighborhood (ch. 6)

read the rest: masterlist

a/n: ch 6 is here!!!!! I'm taking a much needed break from studying and I thought, why not update tonight? I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I do!

tag list: @lovelyladymayyy @specialagentmonkey @elle-writes-things @anotherrickinthewall @ghostlythots @dmitriene @xaestheticalien @urbimom @emily-roberts @lilpothoscuttings @teconkaals @danika1994 @lazybutsmexy

Ghost looked at the picture in his hand, Price’s words slowly filtering back into his consciousness.

“We’re still monitoring the threat, but it looks like this is going to be a bigger problem than we initially thought.”

“I thought we got the leader, though,” Ghost said, nodding his head towards the photo. But Price just shook his head.

“That’s not him.”

Silence filled the air as everyone contemplated this. Their mission all those months ago had been simple: wipe out the weapons bunker and quell the insurgent uprising. But those motherfuckers were proving a more serious problem than anyone could have imagined.

“Well, who the fuck is it then?” Gaz spoke up, putting his whiskey glass down.

“Frankly?” Price replied. “We don’t know. Intelligence is still gathering information, but it looks like they know we’re hot on their heels and now they’re in hiding.”

“What do we do?” Soap asked, hands clasping in front of him. A group of boisterous women walked past the group on their way out of the pub, clearly inebriated but enjoying their time. As they chit-chatted between themselves, Ghost’s eyes were drawn to the door they were walking towards, which was now open and letting in someone familiar.

He heard Price’s voice in the background, but the static buzz filling his ears at the sight of you drowned out his words. It was tunnel vision now, everything in the pub fading away as he watched you frantically make your way to the bar. You obviously hadn’t noticed him, taking a seat at the bar with your back to him and your body still as a statue. He felt an intense need to get out of the booth and go to you, as if you were a siren singing a beautiful song to lure him in. But he wasn’t ignorant to the company around him, so he hesitated.

He continued to watch you as you flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink, a shot of something he didn’t recognize.

The blessed burn of the tequila sliding down your throat was dangerous. You wanted to drink to forgot how fucking furious you were, how you could rip your ex-boyfriend’s head off his neck if you saw him right now.

It was one thing chasing you down the street and pretending like he was about to physically assault you, but sending you creepy photos he took of you through your window, and your mother’s home address as if he was threatening you with hurting her? That was a real new low, and maybe even grounds for you to look into getting a restraining order.

After the initial panic of the ordeal died down, you reasoned that the only person who could go this far to try to torment you would be the asshole ex. Who else would care enough to leave shit like that at your door? He was obviously trying to scare you, but that was the last thing you were feeling. Right now, you wanted to set his car on fire.

Before you realized how far you were going, the seventh shot of tequila was sitting in front of you. You brought the glass to your lips and once again tilted your head back. But this time, as the liquid coursed through your system, you felt your stomach twist more than you felt the buzz of the alcohol.

You slowly got up off the chair on unsteady feet, a hand grabbing a hold of the bar to anchor you as your saw the pub start to sway back and forth.

“God, I didn’t realize I drank this much,” you said to yourself, a small laugh escaping you as you heard your words blend together.

At this point, Ghost had silently watched you for the past half-hour, pretending to be an active participant in the conversation with his colleagues when all he could do was think about going to you. He wanted to see your eyes light up like they always did when you saw him, see the smile that your lips formed.

And the hesitation he was feeling when you came in disappeared when he saw you maneuvering yourself out of your spot on the barstool, coming to a stand with the grace of a newborn fawn.

That’s enough of that, then.

Without another thought, he was out of the booth and approaching you. The bar wasn’t particularly crowded, but Ghost’s towering presence was enough for people in his path to make way for him. His eyes hadn’t left your back since the moment you walked in, so he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you were here for a reason.

When he called out your name, it was loud enough to get through the fog in your brain. You turned your head towards the familiar voice, but you didn’t realize that the action would send the world around you spinning more than it already had. And since you were already wobbling around, that was enough to make you lose your balance.

A squeal left you as your body hit the pub floor with a thud, your hands reaching out and taking the brunt of the impact.

“Fucking hell,” you distantly heard in the background. You saw someone bend down in front of you, try to take your hands to get you off the floor. You heard them saying something to you, but you were frozen, glued to the floor and unwilling to move.

You looked up at the people around you, some of them looking back at you with concern, some not caring at all. And from this angle, everyone seemed like a giant. You wondered if this is what children felt like.

“Let’s get you home now,” that same voice came through.

“No,” you shook your head. You were going to stay here. “I don’t wanna go. This is nice. I want to sleep on the floor,”

“How ‘bout I take you home instead?”

“You wanna fuck me or something?” you said as you turned your head to look at the person bold enough to be propositioning you right now. And instantly you wished you’d just kept your mouth shut.

“Not right now.” Ghost chuckled and shook his head, getting closer to you with his arms out. You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

“What do you mean ‘not right now’?” you questioned.

“I mean, we need to get you back to the flat.”

Before you could say anything back, Ghost pulled your legs towards him and hooked his right arm under them, his other arm wrapping around your back and picking you up bridal style.

Instinctually, your arms wrapped around his neck. You looked up at that balaclava-clad face that you’d been seeing so much of lately. This close to him, you could make out his eyelashes which, much to your surprise, were blonde.

“You’re blonde!?” you practically yelled, the look of disbelief on your face making Ghost chuckle.

“I am,” he replied, not looking down at you as he made his way out of the pub.

“But…” you contemplated your words. “How?” Whatever. It’s the best you could think of right now.

“I don’t know, love” You felt him shrug. “It’s how I was born.”

As he walked down the street toward the flat, cold air enveloping him and sending a shiver down his spine, Ghost got an urge to look at you. It was the first time he’d ever been this physically close to you, and now that he had the chance, he wanted to memorize every detail of your face.

Everything he loved about you was mere inches away from him, and he wanted to be selfish and indulge in it.

He tried to focus on the sidewalk ahead, and not on how he could feel your eyes on him. So to distract himself, he decided to talk.

“How come you came into the pub?” he asked, genuinely curious to know if everything was okay.

You were silent for a second, and then you did something you would never do if you were sober: you rested your head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his warmth.

“It’s Ethan…” you closed your eyes, willing the anger to subside before you continued. “I think he’s threatening me. He sent me all these creepy photos and he found out where my mom lives. Which is weird because he knows that I don’t talk to her, so him threatening her isn’t going to send me into a tailspin.”

Ghost felt his own temper rising with each word coming out of your mouth. He knew he should’ve tracked the motherfucker down when he saw him chasing after you. But he didn’t even know the guy’s last name.

Granted, he could run a background check to find it out, but that would mean looking into you as well, and that’s a line Ghost wasn’t about to cross.

Unlike Ethan, it seems like, Ghost thought to himself.

“Regardless, I think he felt powerless after our breakup and now he’s tryna to take some of it back,” you continued.

“I’ll deal with him for you, if you’d like,” Ghost offered.

You let out a small laugh. “I appreciate that,” you replied as you moved your head to look at him. Your head was still spinning, but somehow you saw his face so clearly. “I’ll probably take you up on that soon.”

Ghost made the fatal error of looking down at you, your smile beaming up at him so innocently it almost made him fall over. He’d really only picked you up bridal style so you would get off the dirty pub floor, but now he was hoping he’d never have to put you down.

As quickly as he looked, he averted his eyes. You were doing dangerous, dangerous things to him without even knowing it. But he didn’t want to be the guy who crushed on his girl friend when all she wanted was a platonic relationship. Because if that’s all he could get from you, he would happily take the bits and pieces.

Besides, he could always use his line of work as an excuse to not be in a relationship, no less with a woman like you. You needed someone who would always be there for you, who wouldn’t run the risk of dying every time they went into work. You needed someone who could give you so much more than Ghost ever could.

Of course, he had decided this as soon as he had started feeling…something for you, because if he had you, and then lost you? He probably wouldn’t survive that.

As you both approached the entrance to your building, Ghost shifted you around in his arms, trying to reach his hands into his pocket to get the key out.

“You can put me down, you know,” you said gingerly, trying to make the retrieval of the key less complicated.

Ghost hesitated for a second but let you to your feet. He had already done more than enough; you could at least make it easier for him to open the damn door.

It was a task getting up the stairs to your flat, Ghost hovering behind you in case you fell again, and thank God he did or else you’d be lying at the bottom of the steps with your head split open.

When you both got inside the flat, there was a silent second where you didn’t know what to say to Ghost. You looked at him, and he looked at you, and then you wrapped your arms around his neck once again in a hug.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, feeling his arms come around your torso. You hugged him harder, and he hugged you back harder too.

But you didn’t let go, and you quietly took in the smell of his cologne mixed with a smell that was so distinctly him, and you wished so badly that you could taste his lips right now. Feel their softness against yours, hear him groan for you. Your felt flushed, your breathing growing deeper as you tried to settle the heat in your belly.

Ghost wasn’t ignorant to this, and his own body was starting to react the same way. But he knew you weren’t sober, and so nothing was happening tonight. He pulled away first, enough to almost make you weep at the loss of contact.

He wasn’t meeting your eyes, but you saw how his pupils were dilated. You saw the rise and fall of his chest with his harsh breaths. You took that as a small victory.

“Good night,” he said with a curt nod, stepping back so you could get past him to your room.

You brushed up close to him as you passed, throwing out a small ‘‘night’ in return, before disappearing into your room.

Ghost stood silently in that same spot until he heard your bedroom door click shut, and then he tore the balaclava off his face and dropped it, running a soothing hand through his hair to calm down. This was getting too real, but he loved that. He wanted that and he craved your touch again and Jesus Christ he wanted to fuck the shit out of you.

The first step to acceptance is admitting it to yourself, and now he had.

Ghost walked to the sofa and sat down, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as he contemplated what to do. But then something on the coffee table grabbed his attention. He lifted his eyes to the papers strewn about, but they were pictures, of you. They were the pictures you’d been talking about; the ones Ethan had taken of you.

He grabbed the stack of papers, not wanting to see the contents, when he noticed a white sheet sticking out of a manila folder. It was blank besides an address typed on it, and a stamped logo on the top right corner. Ghost pulled the sheet out of the envelope and took a closer look at the ink, which depicted two serpents intertwined, one black and one green.

It looked familiar to him, and he wracked his brain for where he’d seen that inscription before. He thought hard, all the way back to previous missions, meetings at the base, training sessions. And then it clicked, and as soon as it did, Ghost was up and out of the door in a matter of seconds, car keys in his hand as he made his way back out the building.

He dialed Price’s number, who picked up after the first ring.

“Where’d you run off to, Riley?” Price joked in lieu of a greeting, but Ghost ignored him.

“The insurgents. I have a lead.”

#simon riley #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x fem reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x fem reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon riley x reader fluff #simon ghost riley x reader fluff #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #cod #x female reader #x fem reader #fluff #forced proxmity #roommates #slow burn

[ejzah]

Since in "Glory of the Sea" we learned that for Callen's bachelor party they might be cave diving in Mexico, and we that know how eventful the last two trips to Mexico were, could you write a fan fic in that the guys get into trouble in Mexico - again?

Maybe a Strip Club Would be Safer

“Are you really sure you want to have your bachelor party in Mexico?” Deeks checked, not for the first time. He’d asked when Sam first suggested it, then again when they arrived at airport, and now, as they grabbed their bags from the rental car.

“Absolutely,” Sam said. Callen gave a less enthusiastic shrug, still not fully onboard with the idea of a bachelor party. The couple beers he’d had on the flight over had helped some though.

Behind him, Eric had just removed his own luggage, and rolled it over to stand between Callen and Deeks. He had of course made the time to participate in the festivities, flying in a couple days early to get everything settled. He’d even got them upgraded to first class (sometimes being Rick was awesome).

“I mean, it’s not like we’re here in any official capacity,” Eric reminded them with a shrug. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that.” Deeks winced, throwing his head back with a sigh.

“Relax, Deeks. We’re just tourists, here to enjoy some cave diving with my man.”

“And I found some interesting clubs we can check out,” Eric added.

“Uh, I promised Anna there’d be no strippers involved during this bachelor party,” Callen spoke up.

“She had to specify?” Deeks asked, surprised that Anna would worry about Callen wanting a last night of society approved infidelity.

Callen shook his head. Nah. Anna doesn’t care, because she knows that’s not really my thing. But it’s the excuse I gave Arkady when he mentioned his plans to book an exclusive Russian strip club.”

“I believe the preferred term is “exotic dancing” or gentleman’s club,” Deeks felt the need to point out.

“As you’ve mentioned before.” Sam shot him a speculative look.

“And I’m offended that you’d think I’d suggest any place like that.” Eric actually did seem mildly offended.

“Sorry.” Sam patted his back. “Sometimes I forget that under all the luxury cars and faux leather, you’re still the same old nerd.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Ok, I’m fine with a club or whatever, as long as it’s not too crazy. This is supposed to be relaxing.”

“No, it’s supposed to be fun,” Sam corrected him. Deeks thought he looked a little severe for someone promoting fun. “Now, lets get to the hotel before they give away our rooms.”

***

After checking into their hotel, they ate lunch at a little cafe that Eric found while scouting out local attractions. Deeks knew Kensi would be jealous that she missed out on the authentic cuisine.

They spent the the rest of the afternoon and evening exploring the area. It was interesting being a tourist for a change, with no set agenda in mind other than having fun. Fortunately, Sam and Deeks had carefully selected a part of Mexico they’d never encountered during any investigations, which turned out to be slightly challenging after all these years.

From there, Eric dragged them to one of the clubs he mentioned. There weren’t any strippers, but lots of tequila and karaoke.

***

“Why the hell did we have to get up so early?” Callen complained, glaring at Sam as he happily drove an SUV down the highway.

Sam had come knocking on Deeks’ room room at 6am. Fortunately, Deeks hadn’t drunk very much, but he needed more than three hours of sleep to function.

“Because it’s a two-hour drive to the caves, and our dive starts at 9,” Sam replied evenly.

“I guess it would be stupid to ask why you felt compelled to schedule it so early?”

“Morning is the best time to go cave diving.”

“You’re making that up.” Turning to look in the back, where Eric was happily tapping on his phone, Callen frowned. “How are you even conscious, Beale? You drank more than all of us put together.”

“Being a high-tech business man comes with some odd hours, and the need for a high tolerance,” Eric explained, taking a long drink of the strong espresso he’d picked up before they left.

“Unbelievable,” Sam said.

“Alright, who wants to play the ABC game, Mexico edition?” Deeks asked a few minutes later. He needed something to pass the time. “I should warn you, Kensi I play this all the time.”

“No,” Sam said at the same time Callen called out,

“Amor!” He pointed to a large, purple sign that advertised a club of some sort.

The game kept going for the next hour, until they came upon a quaint-looking restaurant. Sam reluctantly agreed to stop for refreshments, since they were running ahead of schedule.

A friendly young woman, named Danita, who reminded Deeks a little of Rosa might in ten or so years, served them little cups of coffee and fresh omelets. There were a few other patrons sitting at the rough wooden tables, who looked like regulars based on their conversation.

Deeks headed to the restroom, feeling full, considerably more awake, and ready for some underwater exploration than he had half an hour ago. He should have known it would be too good to be true.

As he walked back into the small dining room, Deeks saw two armed men standing over Sam, Callen, and Eric.

Yeah, they definitely weren’t getting around to cave diving today.

***

A/N: Yes, there will be a part 2. Hope this is ok.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #g callen #marty deeks #Sam Hanna #eric beale #some humor #a little danger #ejzah fanfiction

[circethesinner]

the puppeteer ✿ mind flayer - chapter 28 ✿

pairing: steve harrington x original female character (can be read as x reader)

warning(s): strong language, descriptions of violence, mature themes 

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Jonathan had wanted to keep an eye on Will, which just meant that he wanted to sit on the floor next to the couch to keep watch in case he woke up. Though the poor kid was out like a light, so it was unlikely. The kids were gathered around the kitchen table discussing Bob Newby, who Bambi didn't really have much interaction with. She didn't really feel like she could contribute to the conversation, so she took the opportunity to join Jonathan on the floor and make amends.

"I'm sorry, too," She told him as she sat down beside him, placing the files down in front of her so the kids couldn't sneak off with them for what would have been the fourth time.

"Huh?" Jonathan looked at her in confusion.

"The party," She elaborated. "Well... The aftermath, I should say."

"I'm really sorry for leaving you there," He sighed. "It was shitty, and I wasn't thinking."

"And I'm sorry I got so upset over it," She told him. "I'm glad you were there for Nance,"

She held her hand out to him. He took it, and they gave one another a quick squeeze before letting go again. Fights between Bambi and Jonathan weren't exactly uncommon. They were like siblings in many senses, and siblings fought. But, they always made up with a squeeze of the hand. Bambi had joked that it was like they were squishing their anger away.

"Did you write that?" Jonathan pointed at the files that Bambi had, after a long internal debate, decided to finish reading.

"No, Jonathan. The lab wrote 'FUCK YOU BITCH YOU CAN'T KILL ME THAT EASILY' over 'Status: Unknown, Presumed Dead' all by themselves," Bambi teased, closing the file and clicking the pen she'd borrowed from the coffee table. "I guess it's comforting that, even though they're all dead now, so it doesn't really matter, they definitely didn't recognise me at the hospital last year."

"I was so confused when Nancy insisted on raiding my mom's dresser before we took you to the hospital," He softly smiled at the memory. "I suggested we covered it with a marker to turn it into a sick tattoo."

"Oh yeah? What were you going to draw on me?" She snorted. "Something classy like a flower, or were you going to fully lean into the 'you fell asleep at a party, so now we draw dicks on you' aspect?"

"What a party that night was," He rolled his eyes playfully.

"Total party!" She nodded along. "Shame that one guy's face opened up, and he tried to kill us. I mean, I told him it was a bad idea to mix drinks."

"Well, what drinks did he mix?" Bambi smiled as Jonathan leaned into her ridiculous ramblings. It was good to distract him a little from what was happening with Will and what had happened to Bob. She knew Jonathan was never Bob's number one fan, but even if he'd refuse to admit it, she knew he had been starting to develop a soft spot for him, even if it was only because he treated Will with respect.

"He pregamed with some beer, then stepped it up to tequila," She told him, pretending to be thinking back on the night. "Then I'm pretty sure I saw him drinking your mom's wine because that totally wasn't something I did over the summer."

"I knew it!" Jonathan gasped, pointing at her accusingly. "I told mom it was you, and she insisted that you'd never do something like that."

"Baby, she drank it with me," She laughed as Jonathan's face contorted into a look of complete confusion. "She knew damn well you were telling the truth, and she lied to your face!"

"Wait..." He shook his head. "When did that happen? Was I asleep?"

"You know I don't just come here to hang out with you and Will, right?" She grinned. "Your mom and I hang out all the time."

"What do you two even talk about?" Bambi laughed harder at Jonathan's confused and concerned expression.

"If you are trying to figure out if we talk shit about you, I can confirm that yes, we do!" She teased. "But don't worry, that's only like 20% of the time. Usually, we talk about... I dunno, girl stuff, I guess?"

"Girl stuff?" He frowned, very clearly racking his brain for what that could possibly mean.

"You know, things like-" Bambi caught herself before she said much more. "Uhhh... Maybe I'll tell you another time."

"Oh... OH!" Realisation dawned on his face. "I can't believe you hang out with my mom without me, and I had no idea."

"I mean, I don't have my own mom, so...." She shrugged. "Well, I guess now I do." She waved the picture of Matilda around.

"Did it say anything else?" He asked. "Like an address or contact information?"

"Nope, only her name- Matilda Easton. But there probably aren't many of them around. She won't be hard to find, I shouldn't think. It doesn't say the names of my brothers, but...." She flicked through the pages of the file absentmindedly. "That's if I'd even want to find them."

"Why wouldn't you?" Jonathan frowned at the idea that Bambi wouldn't want to meet her family.

"I've got my family right here," She shrugged, closing the file again. "Who needs some nameless older brother when I've got one passed out on the couch behind me, and another sat-" She froze and reached up to pull his collar down. "Is that a hickey?!"

"Shhh!" Jonathan pleaded, covering Bambi's mouth with his hand before anyone else heard. As usual, when she was being loud, and he did this, she licked his hand, causing him to pull away and wipe the saliva on her shoulder. "You're so gross sometimes."

"Jonathan Byers, when, where, and who?" She gasped while she attempted to pull his collar down again to study it. He was able to keep on batting her hand away as she spoke. "I need details!"

"I'm not going to-" He tried to refuse her attempts, but she interrupted when realisation dawned on her. There was only one person with him the past few days, as far as she was aware.

"Did you and Nancy-?" He slowly nodded at Bambi. Her mouth was gaping open at the overload of information. "Holy shiiiit! Wait! Does Steve-"

"I think she's going to tell him in a minute," He sighed. "Well, probably not everything, but... You know... I just hope he takes it well."

"If it helps, Steve was going to Nancy's house to properly break up with her," She explained. "Dustin caught us outside and roped us into all of this."

"Yeah, that... that helps," Jonathan nodded. A sly smile spread across his face as he gently nudged Bambi in the side. "At least now you and Steve can-"

Before they could continue with their conversation and Bambi could ask what the hell Jonathan was about to suggest, Dustin ran over and grabbed her arm, trying his best to pull her up from the floor.

"Mind Flayer!" He announced. Bambi decided to help him by just getting up herself instead of letting him tire himself from trying to pull her to her feet.

"Remorhaz!" Bambi responded with equal enthusiasm.

"What?" Dustin looked completely perplexed by this.

"I thought we were just naming D&D monsters from the manual?" She explained with a shrug.

"No! Mind Flayer!" He groaned as though she was supposed to just understand what he was saying with no context. "Will! Mind Flayer!" Bambi looked down at Will on the couch, and her eyes widened.

"Oh shit!" She nodded in agreement. "Motherfucking Mind Flayer!"

"What?" Jonathan asked, looking up at them in confusion. "What's happening?"

Bambi chased after Dustin, who had grabbed the monster manual they'd refer to during campaigns and flipped through it to the correct page. He slammed it onto the table as they gathered around, Bambi positioning herself in between Dustin and Steve.

"The Mind Flayer," Dustin repeated as everyone crowded at the table. "What the hell is that?" Hopper asked sceptically.

"It's a monster from an unknown dimension. It's so ancient that it doesn't even know its true home," Dustin explained. "Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers."

"Oh, my God, none of this is real," Hopper denied, very clearly getting more annoyed by the second. "This is a kids' game."

"No, it's a manual," Dustin corrected. "And it's not for kids. Bambi plays it."

"Bambi is a kid," Hopper pointed out. "Even if Callahan insists she's an ancient demon sent from hell to terrorise him."

"Awww, he said that?" Bambi grinned, twirling her short hair around her finger. "That's so sweet. I'll have to thank him."

"Later," Dustin brushed her off as he continued talking. "And unless you know something that we don't, this is the best metaphor-"

"Analogy," Lucas corrected.

"Analogy? That's what you're worried about?" Dustin scoffed. "Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is."

"Okay, so this mind flamer thing-" Nancy said, leaning over the book to get a look at it.

"Flayer," Dustin corrected. "Mind Flayer."

"What does it want?" Nancy sighed.

"Mind Flayers want to conquer us usually," Bambi told them, trying to recall the exact wording. "Uh... They see themselves as masterminds that twist others into serving their own sinister and far-reaching schemes. Basically, it believes it's the master race."

"Like the- Like the Germans?" Steve asked. Bambi turned her head and smiled at him.

"You mean the Nazis, babe?" She corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis," He agreed after a small pause.

"Uh, if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally," Dustin mumbled. "Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself."

"It wants to spread," Mike added. "Take over other dimensions."

"We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it," Lucas said sternly. Bambi watched as Steve pushed away from the table.

"That's great. That's great," He scoffed. Bambi followed him, grabbing his arm and trying to calm him down a little, not that it was doing much to help. "That's really great. Jesus!"

"It's okay," She tried to soothe him quietly in the corner while the rest of them kept on discussing the Mind Flayer.

"It's clearly not!" Steve huffed, crossing his arms as he turned to look at her. "There's a Mind Flagger-"

"Flayer," She corrected, reaching over to uncross his arms and hold his hands. "We'll... We'll figure something out."

"So, how do you kill this thing?" Hopper asked. Bambi pulled Steve back to the table. She tried to untangle their hands, but he hung on to one. She let their entwined hands drop to their sides as she joined in on the conversation. "Shoot it with Fireballs or something?"

"No, no Fire-" Dustin was holding back laughter. "No Fireballs."

"You summon an undead army," Bambi told them.

"Yeah! Because- because zombies, you know, they don't have brains, and the mind flayer, it- it- It likes brains," Dustin stumbled through the explanation before realising he was getting nowhere because there was no way they could summon an undead army in real life. "It's just a game. It's a game."

"What the hell are we doing here?" Hopper scoffed, slamming the book down on the table.

"I thought we were waiting for your military backup," Dustin pointed out as Hopper was walking away.

"We are!" Hopped yelled back.

"How are they gonna stop this?" Mike asked. "You can't just shoot this with guns."

"You don't know that!" Hopped denied. "We don't know anything!"

"We know it's already killed everybody in that lab," Mike pointed out.

"And we know the monsters are gonna molt again," Lucas added.

"We know that it's only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town," Dustin added. Bambi was about to shout at everyone to calm the fuck down, but Joyce interjected before she could say anything.

"They're right," Her voice gave away just how much she'd been crying, and it broke Bambi's heart. "We have to kill it. I want to kill it."

"Me, too. Me, too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that?" Hopper asked, his voice softening as he spoke to her. "We don't exactly know what we're dealing with here."

"No..." Mike started to walk over to where Will was still passed out on the couch. "But he does. If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it's Will. He's connected to it. He'll know its weakness."

"I thought we couldn't trust him anymore," Max pointed out. "That he's a spy for the mind flayer now."

Mike continued on. "Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is." 

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I like to think that bambi screamed "is that a hickey" so loud that it broke the sound barriers and no one heard it

bambi does not know the word subtle - you know that meme where it's like "you can look, but be subtle"? well bambi is the sort to turn around and point at them and go "IS THIS THE GUY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT?"

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated and I will give each and every one of you little kisses on the forehead for each comment you write :)

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

@missyviolet123 @littlet-holmes @buzzybee111 @preciousbabypeter @youmakemyhearthowl @joscelyn02 @wh0re4harrington

#steve harrington x original character #fanfic #fanfiction #strangerthings #steveharrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x oc

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Never Ever Have I

Summary: Hooking up with Evie was supposed to be quick and meaningless for Sidney Crosby. Then the one night stand became a regular thing. Quickly he realized just how special Evie would turn out to be and how his future would be forever altered by the beauty who brought the spice into his life

Author’s Note- In honor of @princessphilly​ Tumblr anniversary, here is some Crosby smut. It was originally intended as a one-shot but Sidney/Evie took up residence in my writing mind and demanded a full story. This story explores the BDSM lifestyle. Everything done is with consent and within established parameters(will be discussed in the story). It doesn't get very dark, but just fair warning that there is a lot of SMUT.

Warnings- Light kink, unprotected sex, alcohol use

Evie poured another drink into her red solo cup. She wasn’t sure how she got dragged to yet another hockey party with Adriana, but here she was. At least this was a NHL party so the alcohol and food were top shelf compared than the beer league parties of her brief, but slutty hockey career. The post-game party in the arena bar was a definite improvement over the beers and shots in the rink parking lot. She felt the muscular brunette stand next to her and ponder the alcohol selection. “Go with the tequila. It’s premium,” she suggested.

Sidney turned and smirked, “Tequila makes me drunk.”

Evie raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t the the point of all alcohol?” She walked away and felt his gaze as she took her seat. He sat on the opposite of the make-shift circle of chairs.

A game of “Never Ever Have I” had just started. Evie rolled her eyes at the first statement, “Never Ever Have I have kissed a girl” in the group.  She took a drink and gave a look at Sidney who also took a drink. Sidney returned her gaze and noted her actions.

The second statement was  “Never Ever Have I won a Stanley Cup?”. The entire team groaned, “Lame!” and took a drink. Evie called out, “I think it should be a drink for each cup!” Sidney raised his cup and drank two more times.

The third statement was “Never Ever Have I had a threesome”. Evie groaned as she drank and finished her cup as Sidney groaned to himself and felt his cock stir. She got up and went to grab another drink. Her leather skater skirt bouncing as her hips swayed. Evie brought the bottle back with her. This time she sat in the seat next to Crosby. “Really, threesome?” he asked as she filled his cup. 

“What can I say?” she responded coyly, “It was a fun and slutty time.” 

The game had made around to Sidney, “Never Ever Have I had sex in a locker room” and turned to Evie to watch her response. She began to take a sip before asking, “Wait, how are we defining sex?”

Sidney smirked, “Anyway you want.”

Evie shrugged, “I don’t know why I asked. I have done both.” He bent over and breathed into her ear, “That’s two drinks for you then.”

She licked her lips and took a long sip before placing her hand on his thick thigh.“ Mr. Crosby, are you trying to get me drunk,” she asked coyly, giving his thigh a squeeze. 

“Mr. Crosby, I like the sound of that,” he moaned into her ear, “I am not trying to you drunk. I am trying to get you horny.”

Evie stood up and adjusted her skirt as she got up, letting her hips sway as she walked from the muscled man, “Save my seat, Mr. Crosby. I will be right back.” Sidney licked his lips and adjusted his pants to camouflage his cock that was stirring underneath his pants. Evie returned and took her seat again, her skirt riding up her to expose her bare thigh. She leaned over and placed her damp panties in his hand before kissing his cheek, “Just in case you needed proof of how well you accomplished your mission. Mr. Crosby. You are such an overachiever.” He felt his cock twitch again as Evie squirmed in her seat, squeezing her thighs together, eliciting a soft moan. 

He reached down and grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. She laughed as she practically jog in her high heels to keep up with his long strides. “Mr. Crosby, wherever are we going?” she purred as he walked with a purpose.

He turned to look at her, “You have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name.”

She caught him to him and bit her lip, “Evie” as she palmed his crotch, “Now where are you taking me?”

He removed her hand and began walking again, “You forgot the Mr. Crosby, but I am taking you downstairs.”

The elevator door opened and they entered it together, “What’s downstairs, Mr. Crosby?”

His eyes darkened, “I think you know.” The elevator door shut and he pushed her up against the elevator wall. His hand sliding under her skirt, across her bare ass, and finally resting his palm on top of her dripping pussy. Evie whimpered as the light pressure against her clit and the elevator came to a stop. When the doors opened, Crosby again walked with purpose. “So tell me how you had sex in a locker room, Evie. Are you some sort of puck bunny?”

Evie came to a complete standstill, “Puck bunny? No, I just wanted a fucking penalty called on me.”

Sidney turned, “What?”

She continued as they walked, “It was my first season of beer league. I wasn’t getting on the score sheet with my limited skills so I started chirping at the ref to at least give me a penalty. I was relentless for three games so he finally broke down and made me the offer. If a gave him a blowjob, he would give a penalty. Because I am not an idiot and he was hot in that "hockey boy" sort of way, I waited until he gave me the two minutes for tripping before I blew him in the Refs locker room.” 

They had arrived at the Penguins locker room and Sidney pushed the door open. “Oh Mr. Crosby, I do believe that we are at your office,” she moaned as he pressed her back against the door and lifted her skirt, sliding his fingers through her dripping folds. 

“Fuck, you are so hot, “ he groaned as slid a finger into her. “So when did you get fucked in a locker room?” he grunted as she unbuckled his pants and pushed his pants/boxers down with her foot. “Well, Mr. Crosby, since a penalty cost me a blowjob, an assist cost me a fuck.”

He slide a finger into her dripping pussy, “And how did you get fucked?”

She moaned as he slowly finger fucked her, "Bent over the bench- from behind." Sidney lifted her up easily and carried her to the bench. She looked up at him with lust filled eyes.

"Assume the position," he commanded.

"Yes, Sir," she purred as she turned around and got on her knees, bending over the bench.

 She lifted her skater skirt to reveal her firm ass and wet pussy. She spread her legs as he stroked his cock, "Good girl, just like that."

Evie looked over her shoulder and whimpered, "Mr. Crosby, are you going to fuck me or just jack off?"

Sidney shook his head at the mischievous twinkle in her eye, "Fuck, I love when you call Mr. Crosby," as he thrust deep into her.

"Oh yes, you feel so good Sir," she moaned as she bucked back on his large, thick cock. "Good girl, fuck my cock like the slutty good girl that you are."

Her hips gyrated as he fucked her, "Please Sir, fuck me harder. You feel so good in my pussy."

He reached around and began to rub her clit in circles, "Do you want to cum for me? Do you want cum all over my cock?" She moaned louder, pressing her hand over his fingers to adjust the angle and apply more pressure. 

The sounds of their sex echoed through the room. Evie’s moans became louder and guttural. Her body began to shudder as he nibbled her neck. “Mr. Crosby, may I come soon? I need to cum all over you,” she panted. His hands help her hips firmly as he continued to thrust.

He felt her muscles clench tighter and milk him. “Yes Evie, you may come for Daddy.” The words pushed her over the edge and she screamed out in ecstasy. Sidney pulled out and sprayed his cum all over her ass. His eyes widened as she took cum onto her finger and sucked it. “Mmmmm, a special treat for me. It’s too bad you couldn’t fill me with your cum.” 

Sidney got up and found a towel. He gently cleaned Evie’s ass and  gently patted her pussy dry. Evie stood and adjusted her skirt and Sidney slid her panties back into his pocket. She watched as he buckled his pants slowly, “Thank you Mr. Crosby. That was quite enjoyable.”

He looked at her softly, “So can I see you again?”

"If you want" she smiled and replied, “It depends. I am surprised that you haven’t asked me about the threesome.”

Evie laughed, “Don’t get protective on my behalf. I was going to do all of those things without getting anything in return. He offered though so why not?”

His eyebrows rose, “I assume that the threesome was in payment for a goal, correct? You know I could help you with your hockey skills so you don’t have to whore yourself out for goals.”

Sidney placed the soiled towels in the bin, “So what would a threesome cost me? You know, in hockey terms.”

Evie laughed, “to watch only? That would take a hat trick. To participate? That takes a Cup.”

Sidney nodded, “Be prepared at the end of the season. I intend to collect. “

Evie looked up at the engraved nameplate above the locker room. “Mr. Crosby, are you going to think of me tomorrow when you get dressed to go out on the ice? Will your cock twitch every time you sit here and look at the place where you lost your locker room cherry?” she purred.

Sidney laughed, “Yeah, I think I might.” 

Next chapter- https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/661242676070514688/authors-note-for-some-reason-evie-and-sidney

#sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby smut #nhl imagines #nhl smut #nhl fanficiton

[reidyoulikeabook]

B is for Blindfolds

Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).

Word count: 3k

A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!

This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.

The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.

“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.

She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.

On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.

“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.

“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.

She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.

At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.

Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.

Got to behave myself

I will behave myself

Will he be drinking?

That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.

“So, what can I get you?”

***

“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”

Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.

Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.

He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.

“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”

“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.

You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But!”

“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”

Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”

“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”

“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.

You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.

“Balance,” You whisper quietly.

He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.

It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.

It feels comfortable, familiar.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

***

After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.

Trust falls.

Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling. 

“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”

Oh

You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.

Probably reading too much into it

“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.

“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.

“Eidetic memory,” She replies.

There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.

“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”

Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.

“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.

He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”

You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”

“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”

“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”

“You’re betting?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.

“Something like that.”

He grins, “You’ll see.”

He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.

“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.

Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”

It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.

You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”

***

You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you’re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.

With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.

"Spencer!"

"Spencer?!"

Spencer.

You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.

“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”

His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.

The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.

“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.

“What?” You ask.

Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.

Oh.

Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.

He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.

“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.

Fuck.

“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.

Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.

Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.

Fuck.

What did he mean not like this?

***

After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.

You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.

It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.

“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.

“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”

“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.

“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”

***

The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.

You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.

He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”

“Yeah,” You say,

“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”

“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.

He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.

“But it’s different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”

You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.

“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”

You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”

“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.

“Even when you beat me.”

“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“

You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”

“We didn’t.”

"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”

“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.

“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”

“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”

“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”

He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”

“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”

“The song never clarifies that.”

“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”

“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”

He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.

Just wishful thinking

"Caramel,” He settles on.

"Caramel?”

“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”

"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.

You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”

He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”

“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”

“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”

You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”

“The 28th sounds good.”

It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.

“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.

“Me too.”

There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier.  Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.

Ask him what he meant by not like this

No

Ask him

“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.

“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.

His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.

Good job he takes the Metro.

"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.

If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.

“Have a good Christmas, _____.”

---

Next part: C is for Caramel

Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose

(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #a-z of spencer reid #the a-z of spencer reid

[fruitcoops]

If the requests are still open, I watched the try guys trying sexy alcohol video recently (The Try Guys Sexy Alcohol Taste Test is the name of the video) and I was laughing the whole time. I was thinking it would be really fun to have the team do it for a social media video if you wanted to write it! :)

I absolutely love the Try Guys and I’ve been watching their videos for years--thank you so much for suggesting this! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove and the link to the original video is here

TW for alcohol and lots of sexual references

“I’m so fucking excited for this video,” Finn said, drumming his hands on the table.

Remus gave him a disbelieving look. “You have the lowest alcohol tolerance on the entire team, Harzy. I’d be shocked if you were still awake by the end of this.”

“We’ll find out soon enough!” Marlene announced offscreen. “Do the intro and then we’ll get started.”

“Welcome back to Lion Pride, folks! I’m Finn O’Hara—”

“—and I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Dude, you said I could do the intro.”

“I can’t even say my own name?”

“Boys,” Marlene warned.

Finn cleared his throat and turned back to the camera with a bright smile. “Today we’re tasting sexy alcohol, even though I have no idea what that means!”

The video cut to a different table and James waved to the camera. “Hey, everyone! I’m James Potter, and I’m here today with our wonderful captain Sirius Black to taste test sexy alcohol!”

“What qualifies alcohol as sexy?” Sirius asked. “Is it supposed to turn you on, or something?”

“The names are sexy,” Marlene clarified. “Ready for the first one?”

A title card appeared with Drink 1: Sex on the Beach written in cursive letters.

“Sex on the beach!” Remus and Finn chorused, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip. Remus made a face, while Finn looked thoughtful as he smacked his lips.

“Why is it so sour?” Remus coughed, setting the drink down.

“You’re not a fan of sex on the beach?” Finn teased. “This is always the classy lady drink in movies. It’s not bad, actually.”

James’ face scrunched up as he drank and Sirius went through a whole range of emotions, then tried it again. “It’s not better the second time,” he said. “Just…weird.”

“Much like actual sex on the beach, it’s flat out uncomfortable.” James slid the glass out of reach.

“You’ve had sex on a beach?”

“Haven’t you?”

“No, sand gets everywhere even when I don’t strip down.”

“Ha! Loser.” The video transitioned right as Sirius reached over to smack the back of his head.

Drink 2: Buttery Nipple

“A fucking what?” Remus laughed, leaning toward the camera crew. Marlene repeated the name and he nodded slowly. “Okay, that’s what I thought you said.”

Finn sniffed the shot. “Is that butterscotch?”

“It is,” Marlene said.

“Rad. On three. One, two, three!”

They knocked their shots back at the same time and Remus raised his eyebrows as he swallowed. “That’s really not that bad. Best nipple I’ve ever tasted.”

“Very sweet, I like it,” Finn agreed around his grin.

A smile twitched at the corners of Remus’ mouth. “You like the buttery nipple?”

“I do like the buttery nipple,” Finn snorted, sending them both into peals of laughter.

James stared down at his shot glass, then turned to Sirius and opened his mouth; Sirius reached over and covered it with his palm. “Don’t say it.”

“But it really looks like—”

“I know.” Sirius bit his lip, sighed, and downed the shot. “Y’know, that’s actually pretty good.”

James rolled the empty glass between his fingers. “That would give me a wicked headache in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.”

Drink 3: Suck, Bang, Blow

There was a brief pause as Remus and Finn shared a look. “I think that’s the wrong order,” Finn said after a moment.

Remus nodded. “Bang is generally last on the list if you’re doing it right.”

“It also implies that you’re not sucking on the last part, which is just bad blowjob etiquette.”

“Bottoms up.” Remus tapped the rim of their glasses together and took a sip—almost immediately, he spat it back out. “What in the unholy fuck is that?”

“My whole face is itching,” Finn coughed. “Holy shit, there’s so many different types of alcohol in there that is just tastes like straight-up sugar. I would order this at a bar if I was horny and sad and didn’t care who I went home with.”

“Yeah, this is what you get if you want something that’ll fuck you up.” Remus paused for a second, then covered his mouth with his hand. “You know who would drink this?”

“Who?”

“People who live in Florida.”

Finn’s whole face lit up and he dug around in his back pocket, dialing a quick number on his phone before putting it on speaker; it rang twice before connecting. “ ‘Sup, Finner Finner Chicken Dinner?”

Remus’ jaw dropped and Finn rested his forehead on the table. “Thanks for that,” he sighed. “We’re filming a video for Lion Pride right now.”

“Oh, sick!” the voice on the other end said. “Hey Lions!”

“Hi, Alex!” Marlene called.

“I just have a quick question,” Finn continued. “Have you ever heard of a drink called Suck, Bang, Blow?”

“Hell yeah, they’re super popular down here.”

“Called it!” Remus grinned and high-fived Finn. “Thanks, Hazard.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if anyone is going to have shitty alcohol, it’s you and your bouncy ice.”

“Hey—”

Finn ended the call and put his phone away once again with a gleeful smile. “He’s never going to hear the end of that.”

Drink 4: Amber Moon

“That’s a lot of whiskey,” James said as a crewman handed them their drinks; Sirius whistled lowly and held it up to the light.

“Why are there red flakes in it?”

“Tabasco sauce,” Marlene said off screen.

James nudged Sirius with his elbow. “I bet I can drink this is ten seconds.”

“Do it in five or you’re a coward.”

“You’re on.” He cleared his throat, then tipped the glass back.

“One, two, three, four, five, six!” Sirius pumped his fists in the air with a whoop.

“You counted too fast!” James protested, giving the camera crew a desperate look. “Marley, he counted way too fast!”

“Looks like…” There was a brief moment of silence. “Five point three four seconds, Pots.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, setting the glass down. “It tasted horrible, by the way.”

The video cut to Remus and Finn, who were eyeing the drink suspiciously. “I’ll bite,” Remus said. “What’s the sexy name for a hot sauce and whiskey monstrosity?”

“Amber Moon.”

“That would be my stripper name,” the two said in unison, then turned to each other with identical gasps.

Drink 5: Blowjob Shot

Sirius looked deeply uncomfortable as he set the shot glass on his lap. “Don’t make this weird.”

“What? The part where I’m putting my face in your lap?” James asked with false innocence as a smile spread over his face.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just get it over with.”

“That’s a rude thing to say to someone who’s about to give you a blowjob.”

“You’re not giving me a blowjob.”

James raised his eyebrows and Sirius rolled his eyes, kicking him lightly. “Alright, alright. Do you want to go first?”

Sirius leaned forward, paused halfway down, then cursed under his breath and took the shot glass between his lips, knocking it back in a quick motion. James opened his mouth and the first bit of a fake moan slipped through before Sirius tackled him to the ground.

The video cut for a moment—when it returned, they were sitting in their chairs once again, and James looked incredibly smug as he rested his elbows on his thighs. “Ready, hot stuff?”

“You’re the worst person to have as a best friend.”

James didn’t hesitate before wrapping his mouth around the rim of the glass, then made a noise of panic when it didn’t go down his throat right away. His eyes went wide and he cupped his hand under his face, slapping Sirius’ knee with the other.

“Are you okay?” Sirius laughed. “Just—just knock it back, buddy, you can do it.”

James made a muffled sound and the camera crew started snickering off screen as the whipped cream smudged over his nose.

“His eyes are watering,” Sirius cackled. “Oh, this is karma in action. Is it too much? Spitters are quitters, Pots, you can—"

James glared at him, then choked slightly and spat the shot glass and all its contents onto Sirius’ chest. Dead silence fell over the studio, broken only by the steady drip of the liqueur on the paper below their table.

“Does anyone have a napkin?” Sirius asked after a moment, shaking his hands out.

“I am…so sorry,” James said as he wiped his lower lip.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know! It was doomed from the outset, I guess.” He wrinkled his nose. “I can feel it in my sinuses.”

Remus and Finn both downed their shots easily; neither struggled for more than half a second. They were both a little flushed from the alcohol and Finn hiccupped as they turned back to the camera.

“How did you do that so well?” Marlene asked, clearly amused.

“Frat,” Finn said at the same time Remus shrugged and said, “college.”

“Pots spat his all over Sirius.”

“It’s because he’s straight.” Finn hiccupped again and Remus burst out laughing.

Drink 6: Body Shot

“Who are we doing this off of?” James asked. All four men sat at the same table; Sirius had removed his flannel and James’ cheeks were pink from five—well, four and a half—drinks.

“Guess who, bitches!” Kasey grinned as he walked out from behind the backdrop, clad only in his Lions sweatpants. James, Finn, and Remus cheered while Sirius put his head in his hands. “Shit, Cap, you’re doing wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Is this a power imbalance?”

“I’m older than you, now move your elbows so I can lay down.”

The folding table creaked as Kasey laid on his back and all five of them froze for a second until Marlene emerged with salt, lime slices, and a bottle of clear alcohol under her arm. “Do you know how this works?”

Four nods answered her and she carefully poured the tequila into Kasey’s bellybutton—he jolted at the cold and some of it spilled down his sides. “Aw, man, now my pants are damp.”

“Where—” Remus cut himself off with a laugh as he took the salt. “Where do you want us to salt you, Bliz?”

“Wherever your heart desires.” They passed the container down the line, each sprinkling a pinch somewhere on Kasey’s bare chest. “Ready?”

Finn wrinkled his nose as he licked the salt, sipped some tequila, and quickly put the lime wedge in his mouth with a distressed sound. Remus was next, and he barely skimmed his mouth over Kasey’s belly button before shoving the lime between his teeth; James missed his mark completely because Kasey was still laughing, and Sirius got some of it up his nose on accident.

“You guys suck at this,” Kasey managed as he sat up, brushing the leftover salt off his front. “Jesus Christ, have any of you been to a party in your lives?”

All four exploded into indignant protesting and the video transitioned to a final slide. “Thanks for joking us today, Lions!” Marlene said in a voiceover. “Make sure to like and subscribe for more content.”

[caravelmp3]

FEAR AND LOATHING IN DOMESTICATION

pairing: josh kiszka x reader warning(s): mentions of alcohol, references to sex, depression, & anxiety  synopsis: in better terms, josh kiszka is a rolling stone, and when the pandemic causes the band to settle down for an undisclosed amount of time, reader helps josh come out of his slump note: title & reference to that one interview. you know the one. as someone with a fear of domestication as well, i related so hard to josh when he talked about settling down, and this came out of that. it’s just a lil something !! also posted on ao3 if you would like to check it out there instead. hope you all enjoy !! x 

Josh was a vagabond, a nomad, living a peripatetic lifestyle of hopping from city to city overnight by bus or jet, bouncing between venues and interviews as if he was born to do so. Staying in three-star motel rooms in the middle of nowhere became a part of his lifestyle, one that he became quite adjusted to after three years on the go. Even while visiting home he was between family and friend houses, checking in on old stomping grounds, visiting studios hours away, anything to stay busy. In the clearest sense of terms, he was a rolling stone.

So, as everyone imagined it would happen, he began to lose his sense of self in 2020. One second the band were planning the release of an album, preparing to hit the road and play stadiums in South America with Metallica in the spring, and then the next they were hit with the news of cancellations and push-backs to everything they had been working towards. With the rise of a pandemic they were forced into a hiatus and into the first real break any of them had received, if they didn’t count the few days visiting home last holiday season.

He and the rest of the band hunkered down in Nashville and Josh started to live in his worst fear - domesticity. He was waking up at the same time every day in the same city, he was living the same life day after day, and it became old very quickly. While catching up on rest and exploring a new city was fun at first, it started to look like every other city before long. The adventure he would wake up to with excitement was no longer around. He had been forced to settle down, and he felt like a trapped animal trying to gnaw its own leg off.

And like the rest of the band and the management team, you hated seeing him that way.

The relationship between you and Josh was short, but you knew Josh for years, and you noticed the differences in his personality immediately once you followed him to Nashville following the shut down of your own job.

You once swung by the studio with a surprise lunch for the boys and the team and he was struggling to write lyrics on a notepad in the other room, surrounded by crumpled and balled sheets of paper. He would stay up later at night scrolling through airline websites for flights out of Nashville to random cities (as long as he was traveling, he told himself), and he shifted through hobbies to find anything that stuck (which eventually was reading and painting) (there was a corner of the living room filled with stacks of books and canvas paintings).

And you tried your best, even when times were hard on you, too. In order to boost Josh’s spirits and get his mind off the persistent idea that he was stuck in time, you attempted baking new treats and made him try them after dinner, you dabbled in bartending and made new drinks with tequila, set up painting dates in the backyard after work, bought books from second-hand stores you thought he would enjoy, and bought new and random vinyl for the nights spent in during summer storms.

But the bright blue, cloudless summer skies and warm breezes rustling the trees of summer became the red of maples and the bronze of oaks of autumn. Everyone hoped things would be different, maybe even just slightly, but nothing had changed at all. The band was still in Nashville, making the best of their time off to expand the album and the universe it was set in, and you were back to working, but only remotely, so Josh insisted you stayed with them instead of traveling back home at seemingly the height of the worst so far.

When the long, hot days turned into cooler mornings and long nights with the sun setting at five p.m., the effect of the year had finally hit everyone. Everyone was tired, they felt defeated.

So in one last desperate attempt to boost spirits and morale, everyone set off on their own adventure and escaped Nashville in the early days of December. Danny was going to Los Angeles, Sam was going skiing in Montana, and you knew that Josh and Jake needed their own trip. So after a few phone calls and exchanged emails over a week, you booked a trip for the twins and their family in Key West. It was something small - a rented RV for the dreaded sixteen-hour drive south, but what awaited them was a week in a rented beach house and days on a boat in the Gulf.

You booked it for everyone, you wanted the boys and their family to let loose and spend some time together before work drove them away again, but you weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t book it with Josh in mind. He was a fan of the beach and islands, history, and the water and sun and sand, and after months hunched over a studio coffee table writing and working endlessly on the album design, he deserved time to himself, to recover, to recoup.

You told him before bed on Thanksgiving day. The Kiszka family had come down from Michigan to celebrate the holiday, and they did with dinner and a fire in the pit in the backyard with music and plaid blankets and smores under the stars. After staying up talking to his mom, Josh had come to bed last with the lingering scent of fire smoke in his hair and Corona on his breath, and he met you under the covers, nestling his face in the crook of your neck before pressing a soft kiss against your skin while wishing you goodnight.

Humming, you rolled over and rolled into him. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, and that’s when you, in a sleep-deprived state, began to rattle off all of your plans,

“Tell your parents to stay for another week.” You said, eyes still closed, half-asleep.

Josh paused. “Why?” It wasn’t something he was opposed to, but it caught him by surprise.

“I booked a trip for the rest of us. While Danny and Sam are gone.” You laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest. “We leave for Key West in four days.”

And the shot of adrenaline that ran through Josh was something he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. The last time he got excited about going anywhere was to a new record shop that opened up a few streets over from the house. He quickly sat up in the bed, looking down at you (now laying sideways) in the dark with a smile.

“You’re fucking joking,”

You laughed and reached out for his hand. “Not at all,” you said bringing his hand up to kiss the palm, “I’m going to pick up an RV in a couple of days, and we can surprise your parents and take them shopping for clothes and everything else we need.”

Out of what seemed like a rush of euphoria, Josh threw himself on top of you, peppering your face with kisses and you laughed at the show of affection and at the tickle of the growing mustache he managed to grow (and pull off). You turned your head, holding his cheeks, and kissed him.

“Now, come on, let’s get some sleep.”

“Well that’s unlikely - now I’m going to lay here and think about all the dumb shit we can do.” He said, sliding under the covers and sliding an arm around you.

You just laughed and nestled your cheek against his chest, listening in to the quiet shuffling in the hallway outside the door of everyone going to bed, to the ticking sound of the clock on the wall, and then to Josh’s voice,

“Do you think they have pirate themed dinner cruises?”

“If they do, I’m sure you’ll find out about it.”

And he did.

(There wasn’t one.)

But you found so much more than you two ever dreamed of. Trading dreary Nashville for a bright and warm island, you welcomed the hot breeze and sun-kissed skin.

And even though there wasn’t a pirate themed dinner cruise, you watched Josh come alive in a new environment. You strolled hand-in-hand with him through the butterfly and nature conservatory, letting him rave about the multicolored birds and point at flowers he thought you would like while capturing them on film. On Duval Street he pulled you to get caricature portraits done, he ordered shots for everyone in the bar after a night spent swimming. He roamed Dry Tortugas National Park with Jake, admiring the view and history within the brick fort walls, and first thing one morning he pulled you out of bed to get breakfast and visit the Ernest Hemingway Home, so you sat with him on a bench in the morning light and drank coffee and pet the roaming cats that passed by.

The last night on the island you woke up naked without Josh beside you, and you turned to see him sitting on the balcony with the white sheer curtains billowing around him, writing in the journal he always kept on his person. A smile tugged on the corners of your lips.

Josh was falling in love with life again.

And you were falling in love with life again, too, because Josh was so passionate about living it.

#josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka one shot #josh kiszka drabble #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet one shot #gvf imagine #gvf drabble #josh kiszka

[missaudreystiara]

For the mini fic ask - brakenight and #11!

Thank you for the prompt and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to writing a fic for it (it took me a while to get any inspiration and then it’s ended up being a lot longer than I originally intended it to be)! This is sort of canon adjacent and set at no particular time - Bess, Audrey and the gals |(Ruth, Mel, and Zarah) had a movie night which got a little bit out of hand, and now Bess is worried about what she might have revealed while drunk… I hope you like it! 🖤

11 - Things you said when you were drunk

It was Sunday morning and Bess Till was lying in bed - awake, but not quite ready to get up and face the inevitable hangover that was threatening to kick in as soon as she opened her eyes. How much had she drank last night? She couldn’t remember making it back to her cabin which was always a bad sign. She couldn’t remember much of the night at all if she was honest - what had started off as a casual movie night with the girls had turned messy quickly once Ruth remembered where Wilford had stashed a secret bottle of tequila. She groaned to herself, cringing at the thought of all the things she might have said under the influence. Though the brakeman was generally quite reserved, she was a bit of loose canon once alcohol was involved.

Her concerns were interrupted when she sensed movement in her cabin - was someone here? Footsteps headed past the bed towards the window and she heard the curtains being pulled open, the rings scraping against the metal rail. Even with her eyes closed, Bess could tell that sunlight was now pouring in through the window. Great. Noise and bright lights were exactly what she wanted this morning. In protest, she rolled over to her front and buried her face in the pillows.

“Good morning, sleepy head”

Audrey. Audrey was here? Had she stayed the night? Surely not.

“I took the liberty of making you a coffee” the brunette continued, “I thought you might need it.”

Coffee. Coffee sounded perfect. Reluctantly, she removed the pillows from her face, using them to prop herself up in bed. She cautiously opened her eyes, wincing at the bright sun.

“I feel terrible” Bess said, raising an arm up to shield her face from the light.

Audrey chuckled. “I’m not surprised, it was a bit of a heavy one last night, wasn’t it?” She handed Bess the coffee, sitting back down at the desk to take a large sip of her own.

Bess received the mug gratefully, eager to let the caffeine work its magic. “I suppose it was”

The brakeman took a cautious sip of coffee and attempted to collect her thoughts. Right. Last night - a movie night at Zarah’s. Or at least, that was what the night was supposed to have been. Layton had arranged to meet up with Josie, so Zarah had invited the girls over to their cabin for a night in. They’d wanted to watch a thriller - something with a bit of suspense - but the only DVD they could get to play was, unfortunately, Grease 2. Audrey had been somewhat less than thrilled about that; “an absolute disgrace to musical theatre” she’d called it. Nobody else had seen it before, and had initially assumed that she was being overly dramatic, but within minutes it became clear just how terrible the movie was.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that this is utter codswallop” Ruth had proclaimed. “How about I go and rustle up one of the good bottles of tequila that Mr Wilford has stashed away in the library, and we turn watching this rubbish in to a drinking game?”

They’d all agreed that that was an excellent idea - an idea that Bess was now regretting.

“I am never drinking again” She sighed, taking another sip of coffee.

“Well that would be a shame. You’re an adorable drunk, Bess” Audrey smiled up towards her, a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh god, what does that mean?” Bess asked, grimacing.

Audrey chuckled, “exactly what I said - you were very funny last night.”

“Excellent - adorable has already been down graded to funny” Bess retorted, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Audrey continued to laugh “you were adorably funny.”

“Sure” Bess rolled her eyes.

She felt too rough to be dealing with Audrey’s banter this morning. Why was she so perky anyway? From what Bess could remember they’d all drank far too much last night, by right Audrey should be feeling just as bad as her. For the first time that morning, Bess looked at the brunette properly, accusatory - she certainly didn’t look as though she felt like Bess did. She did look different than how Bess was used to seeing her though; she’d taken off her vintage styled wig, her face had been wiped clean of her usual make up, and she was wearing an oversized black t shirt with a faded logo (a t shirt that Bess recognised come to think of it - was it hers?), but she didn’t look hungover… just casual, comfortable. How irritating.

“Anyway, why don’t you feel like shit today too?” the brakeman accused, narrowing her eyes.

Audrey shrugged “I guess I can just handle my alcohol better than you” she teased “… that and I covertly switched to water after Ruth pulled out that bottle of absinthe” she smiled.

Absinthe!? Jesus, no wonder she felt so horrendous. “Uuughhh absinthe - why? Well, that explains why I barely remember last night then” Bess complained.

Intrigued, Audrey propped her arm up on her knees and let he chin rest on her palm, leaning in closer to the blonde. “Huh. That’s interesting. Very interesting.”

Interesting. Bess didn’t like the sound of that.

“Er — what, what exactly did we all do after the movie?” Bess asked, unsure what to expect in reply.

“Well” Audrey grinned, leaning back in the desk chair once more, “after the movie, we were all bitching about how terrible it was - I seem to recall that someone very wise did warn you about that” she joked “but anyway Melanie said something about how watching Michael working on his motorbike had been hot and the movie’s one redeeming quality…”

Bess laughed at that - classic Mel, of course she would have liked that.

“… I know, she’s an engineer through and through isn’t she!” Audrey continued, laughing, “anyway, that lead on to a conversation about the sorts of things we find attractive in a partner, major turn offs or red flags… that sort of thing. Just girl talk really, nothing too exciting”

Hmm that didn’t sound too bad, Bess thought. Surely she couldn’t have said anything more embarrassing than anyone else there? Though… if she’d been talking about what she found attractive, could she have accidentally confessed to who she found attractive? Specifically, could she have confessed to finding the very person who was currently sat opposite her attractive? Bess had only ever spoken to Layton about her long standing crush on Miss Audrey, doyenne of the Night Car, but she knew how chatty she could get after a few too many drinks and it sounded like she had far more than a few too many last night!

“…and what sort of things did everyone say?” She asked nervously, indicating for Audrey to continue.

“Nothing you’d be particularly surprised about I’m sure, it was all very vanilla” Audrey teased “Ruth likes to be properly courted the old fashioned way, taken out dancing, doors held open for her… that sort of thing… Zarah said it’s an immediate turn off for her if she finds out someone leaves crumbs in the butter, no matter how nice or good looking they are… oh and in addition to what she’d already said, Mel said she likes it when a guy is good with his hands, but hates it when they mansplain anything mechanical to her” she laughed.

Bess couldn’t help but notice that the brunette hadn’t mentioned what either of them had contributed to the conversation. Was that because she’d said something awkward? In an effort to deflect from herself (and also because, let’s face it, she was curious to find out what Audrey might have revealed) she asked: “and, what did you say?”

Audrey hesitated for just a moment (interesting…) but quickly waved her hand in a dismissive manner and laughed again, “If you don’t remember what I said, that’s not my problem” she teased.

Fair play - frustrating though.

“And — er — do you remember what I said?” Bess asked cautiously, taking another sip of coffee in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

“Oh you were in no position to contribute to the conversation by this point, darling” Audrey smiled “you were starting to fall asleep actually, I don’t think absinthe agrees with you.”

Pheww. Bess let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, relieved to hear that her only potential source of embarrassment last night was that she’d been a bit of a light weight.

“Zarah noticed that you were starting to nod off, so I offered to walk you back here - make sure you got home safely” Audrey continued “I was only intending to drop you off and make sure you had a glass of water before bed, but you perked up A LOT after the walk here… you were very chatty again by that point actually” she raised an eyebrow and took a large sip of coffee for dramatic effect.

For god’s sake, thought Bess, panic setting in once again. “I’m terrified to ask what you mean by that?”

Audrey laughed “well, you seemed keen to re-visit our conversation from earlier. You went on a long rant about how you can’t stand it when people have bad manners… told me about how you were once dating a girl you really liked up until you went out for dinner one night and she was rude to your server and refused to tip”

Well, that was reasonable? “I don’t remember saying that but I do remember that date - it was terrible!” She responded. “Err — did, did I say anything — else?” She asked cautiously.

“You also told me that you’ve always found it… shall we say… appealing when past girlfriends have worn your old t-shirts as pyjamas. You said you knew it was a bit silly as far as turn ons go, but it made you happy to see them looking cosy in your clothes… quite adorable if you ask me” Audrey smiled “you then insisted that I stayed for a sleepover” she laughed.

Bess was suddenly all too aware of the blood pumping around her body; she felt her cheeks growing warm. Why had she told Audrey that! It was completely true of course, but after so many years playing the tough guy as a brakeman, it wasn’t a fact that she was in the habit of sharing. And christ - asking her to stay for a sleepover? She might as well have just told the brunette about the (now probably not so) secret crush she had on her. The embarrassment she had feared was now quickly kicking in.

“Audrey, god, I’m so sorry it sounds like I was such a nightmare last night, I hope you don’t think —” hang on a minute her thoughts interrupted, the brakeman took a moment to pause. Audrey had stayed… Audrey was… wearing her t-shirt? A cautious smile began to spread across her face “Actually Audrey, I can’t help but notice that you’re wearing my t-shirt”, she stated, a hint of amusement in her voice.

It was Audrey’s turn to blush. “Yes, I suppose I am” she conceded.

Bess raised an eyebrow, inviting the brunette to explain.

“You told me to make myself at home… borrow some pyjamas… and I suppose… I suppose I found the idea of appealing to you rather, well, rather appealing” her blush deepened.

“Is that so?” Bess teased, pleasantly surprised with the turn her morning was taking.

“It is indeed” Audrey agreed, regaining composure quickly. “And while I’m out on a limb here, I suppose I should admit what it was that I confessed to last night”

“Go on” Bess encouraged.

Audrey smiled, “I’ve always had a thing for a person in uniform.”

#snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfiction #brakenight fanfiction #brakenight fic #brakenight #miss audrey #lena hall #bess till #mickey sumner #bess and audrey #bess x audrey #audrey x bess #snowpiercer netflix #snowpiercer tv #ask box #fanfic

[mcwriting]

Just Friends

sooooo... I know I've said I don't write smut, but I will write *barely* sfw stuff if I'm in the mood :)

College AU because that's my current aesthetic lol. Not explicit but defo spicier than what I normally write

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2078

Warnings: light language, alcohol consumption, implied (consensual) sex

✧

The music was loud with a deep bass, reverberating through your spine as you carried a half-drank solo cup of indiscriminate alcohol and red fruit punch.

"Tom. I'm not feeling it tonight," you basically yelled to your best friend, a proud member of the fraternity whose basement you were in. "This just doesn't hit like it used to."

You were both going into your senior year of college, having been friends ever since your freshman dorm rooms ended up right next to each others.

Now that you and your friends were all legal, going to the frathouse instead of a bar just seemed unnecessary. The only reason you were really there was because Tom and his best friend Harrison were officers and had to live in-house.

Tom had only had a couple beers within the past hour, trying to stay steady with you, though you weren't even experiencing a light buzz.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to lean down to your ear.

"Whadd'ya want to do then?" he asked.

"Can we just go back to my place? We've got some alcohol in the apartment," you answered. He nodded. "Let's go find Emily first, make sure she doesn't want a ride, too."

You both made your way around, finally seeing your roommate and Harrison making out in one corner of the room, one hand holding a red solo cup and the other cupping his face.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed her shoulder, pulling them apart.

"Heeeeyyy. What are you two up to?" she asked, turning around and pressing her back up against the blonde who then wrapped both arms around her stomach, resting a chin on her shoulder.

"We're gonna go drink at the apartment, " you called, trying to get her to hear over the music. "Do you want to go in the uber with us?"

She shook her head.

"Nah, I think I'll stay here if Haz is cool with it."

"You know I'm always cool with you staying over," he added, spinning her around.

"Okay, well then you two know the drill," you started, "if you even think about taking advantage of her I'll-"

"You'll cut my dick off," he finished, "yeah, yeah, I know. I would never, I swear."

Harrison put a hand over his heart for good measure.

Your stern look turned to a grin.

"Alright you two, stay safe and all that jazz. See you tomorrow."

You were waving bye when Emily called out behind you,

"Don't forget to use condoms!"

You blushed like mad, and Tom did, too.

You were just friends, after all. Only friends.

Both of you went through the rest of the house in silence, going outside to wait for your driver. You crossed your arms in frustration over your chest.

"I can't believe Emily would try to embarrass us like that! She knows we're just friends! Now that whole party thinks we left to hook up."

"Come on, y/n. The music was too loud. If anyone heard it was like two other people and they're freshman. Who cares what they think?"

You laughed at his response as he squeezed your side again, trying to get you to loosen up and smile again. You couldn't help but comply as the driver pulled up.

✧

Tom was hunched over looking through your fridge when you exited your bedroom, having already removed any makeup and changed into sweats.

He stood up when he heard you.

"What all do you want to- is that my shirt?"

You looked down, then shrugged.

"Huh. Guess so. You can have it back if you want it," you said, starting to pull up up over your sports bra when he stopped you.

"No, no. It's fine. Looks better on you anyways," he quipped, shutting the fridge door. You couldn't help but smile at that last comment as you pulled it back down. "Speaking of clothes of mine, do you still have my grey sweats?"

It wasn't long before he had changed as well, wearing the pants he'd left from the last time and one of your XL sweatshirts.

"Are you sure this sweatshirt isn't mine, too?" he asked, tugging on it.

"Since when do you wear oversized sweatshirts, Tom?"

He paused and looked up.

"Oh, right. Never. Thanks for washing these pants for me."

It wasn't a strange occurrence for Tom to spend the night at your apartment, usually to get out of the frat house every so often. He typically took the couch or your air mattress and kept some clothes in your closet.

He hit his hands together, then rubbed them.

"Now that we've got that out of the way. What shall we drink?"

You were originally just going to finish a bottle of wine as you watched "The Wedding Planner" together on the couch, but then Tom discovered the bottles of tequila and vodka in the freezer during the scene where Mary gets drunk.

"Come on, babe. We've gotta do at least one shot. It would be way more entertaining."

"I can't imagine that either of us needs to be drunk to find JLo and Matthew McConaughey entertaining, but fine," you replied, getting up to pull out the shot glasses from the cabinet.

"I shouldn't have told you to look for the ice cream," you lamented, causing him to laugh.

About 20 minutes after a shot each, you were both curled up on the couch together, the alcohol hitting as the story was beginning to wrap up.

You felt a little awkward watching the characters confess their love for each other as you were leaning on Tom's side, his arms caressing you.

But you were just friends, right?

Yeah, but your drunk brain couldn't ignore the flashing sign inside that seemed to scream "but you're also kinda into him!"

And it was right.

You'd had subtle feelings for him since probably sophomore year, after having playfully hated each other throughout freshman year.

You liked to blame that sentiment on the fact that your beds had been against the same wall and you could often hear each other doing just about everything.

"I just don't get how people weren't more mad at her going after an engaged man!" Tom said, snapping you from your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. But I mean she did try to avoid him for a while, I guess," you replied, not quite slurring but your words coming out just a little but slow.

Tom switched on a random TV channel after credits started rolling and shifted a bit, still holding you tight.

"You doing okay?" he asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I think I'm already coming down. You were kind of right, though. Drunk watching gave me a whole new perspective."

"Oh yeah? and what's that?"

You could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke, making you close your eyes sleepily.

"Hmm. I'm not actually sure."

He laughed at your response and then you both fell into a comfortable silence, both of you relishing in each other's warmth.

After a little bit, you sat up, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

"You good?" he asked again.

"Yep, just gonna run to the bathroom real quick."

You stood up, taking slow steps. Your thoughts were no longer clouded but your coordination wasn't quite there yet.

By the time you returned, Tom had gotten you some water glasses and returned to the couch. This time, you laid down so you could rest your head in his lap and look at your phone as he stroked your hair.

After a while of scrolling through social media and showing Tom the occasional picture, you closed the phone and set it on your chest.

You looked up and Tom and wondered aloud,

"What do you think Em and Haz are up to now?"

"Is that really a question? Smashing."

You snorted.

"Gosh those two don't know how to keep their hands off of each other. I can't believe it took them so long to figure out they were into each other. 'Just friends' my ass."

Tom gave an awkward chuckle of his own.

"Hey, that's our line."

You could feel the tension in that response, not sure how to respond as you continued to study Tom's face.

"We should probably start getting ready for bed," he suggested. "I can start blowing up the air mattress if you wanna go brush your teeth and stuff."

You had sat up but stopped him.

"Wait... will you... do you want to just sleep in my bed tonight?"

"What? Then where will you sleep? On the couch?"

You were a little stunned at his oblivious answer.

"I- what? No. I meant... do you want to share the bed with me? It's plenty big for two people."

He eyes widened.

"Oh... oh! Okay I get it now. Uh, sure. As long as you're sure. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"Tom, I mean it. I want you to," you plead.

You were eventually getting ready to crawl into bed when you faced Tom, sitting back against the mattress.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked once again, making you grin. You reached up and pulled him into a hug.

"I promise, Tom. I really do."

You both pulled away just enough for your faces to be in front of each other, not even an inch apart. Your heart was racing, tension higher than ever between you.

It felt like forever staring at each other. You weren't really sure who moved first but suddenly your lips were crashing into each other's with a fiery passion, hands roaming each other's bodies for the first time like you were starved for touch.

Somehow you had flipped and made it onto the bed, you on top of Tom as you rode his leg.

It wasn't long before shirts were removed, too, and bare skin was against bare skin.

"Mmm... Where... um... condom?" Tom asked between kisses, both of you breathing heavily.

You paused and sat up, straddled over his hips, thinking. It had been a while since you'd needed one of those.

You slid off of him and went to the bathroom, reaching deep into the back of the sink cabinet, thankful to find that the box wasn't expired. When you stood up, you almost laughed at the way your face was flushed and hair unruly.

When you returned, Tom was sitting up looking at you, brows raised.

"So we really doing this?" he asked. You couldn't help but smile, thankful for his respectful nature.

"I am if you are."

It didn't take long to fall back onto the bed again, eventually tiring yourselves out and falling asleep pressed against one another.

✧

You walked out of your bedroom, hair still wet from a shower, looking to make some coffee.

As the first mug brewed, Emily came through the door.

"Oh, hey!" she looked around. "Did Tom head back already? I must've missed him. I guess he slept on the couch since I don't see the air mattress anywhere."

You were unsure of how to answer, pausing as you leaned back against the counter.

Once you finally figured out something to say, you were interrupted by Tom opening the bedroom door. His own hair was also still wet, and he held your bedsheets in a clump in his arms.

"Hey y/n do you want me to stick these in with any clothes or- oh hey Emily," he said, not registering the situation as he passed by her to put the bundle in the washing machine.

Emily, on the other hand, was standing frozen in shock. She looked at you, pointing towards Tom, then back at you, a hand then reaching up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my... I- did you two..?" her fingers wiggled back and forth between you two. You couldn't help but blush. "Holy shit, you did!"

Tom turned and walked to you with a maniacal grin, standing in front you as he reached past your body to grab the filled coffee cup.

"It's definitely possible," he answered her, leaning down to press a kiss on top of one of the hickeys he'd left on your neck.

"Finally! 'Just friends' my ass," she said, unknowingly paralleling your own comment about her. She was about to open her mouth again when you cut her off this time.

"Yes, Em. We used condoms. Now tell me if I've got any dicks to cut off."

✧

A/N: byeeee I don't know how to feel about this. On the one hand I'm pretty proud of it but also this is nothing like how I am as a person or how I usually write so I'm definitely out of my comfort zone here haha

Hope you all enjoyed though! If you did please leave a like or reply or something! I have more one shots similar to this in mind if anyone wants more like it!

Thanks for reading!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh

#just friends #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic

[omgrachwrites]

Park Avenue Princess - Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Characters: Matt Murdock, Reader, Frank Castle

Summary: After an unsuccessful night of trying to get over your ex boyfriend, you all but run out of the bar and into a man that you would never associate with in a million years. Though, you knew it was okay because you’d never see him again.

Warnings: lil steamy, angst, fluff, ooc Frank.

Disclaimer: Frank will be ooc!

Words: 1460

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this part, please let me know what you think! Frank has literally only just come into Daredevil but I love him and wanted to write something with him in! There will be a sequel to his once I get to know Frank’s character more! For the record, I love Josie’s bar! I love you all! xxx

Sweat glistened on your body as your back arched right off the silk sheets and your mouth opened in a silent gasp, you pouted as a strong hand was placed on your hips to hold you down. You threaded your fingers through the thick hair and pulled, making your lover groan from between your thighs. You cried out loud, your voice high pitched as Matt drove you to your climax.

Matt lifted his head with a cheeky grin as he wiped his rosebud lips with the back of his hand as he kissed his way back up your body until his lips hovered over yours, “delicious as always,” he muttered before kissing you. You sighed against Matt’s mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue as you kissed him back.

You giggled and rolled over so you were straddling Matt, gazing down at the beautiful man below you as his chest heaved. Smirking down at him, you stroked a finger against his rough jaw, “now it’s my turn to rock your world, Matty,” you cooed.

Matt laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “is that a promise, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you breathed as you leaned down and kissed him deeply.

The bar was a complete dive, you wrinkled your nose at the scent of stale beer and you cringed as the patrons noisily played pool. You normally wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this, but you were out with your best friends from high school and they wanted to cheer you up. For them, you would do almost anything. Sitting in this bar on a Friday night was just proof of how much you loved them.

“Come on, Park Avenue Princess! Don’t look so glum, we’re only helping you to get back on the horse,” your friend Jack snickered, his thick accent was distorted from the swill that passed for beer that he’d been drinking.

You glared at him as you took a tentative sip of what passed for a vodka martini. Though, you knew he was right, Matt had dumped you about three months ago and you knew that you needed to stop wallowing. But, it was hard, you missed Matt more than anything, everywhere you went, you looked for him. You looked for someone that you didn’t even know anymore. According to Matt, he had fallen out of love with you – maybe you had been too highly strung for him – but you could tell that something else was going on.

“So, you decided to bring me to a bar where he’s a regular?” you laughed.

“Look on the bright side; if he comes here tonight then it’ll be like ripping a band aid off, better to get it over with. It’s just a shame that he won’t be able to see how beautiful you look,” Molly, Jack’s girlfriend said kindly as she placed her hand over yours.

You smiled at the pretty girl as you squeezed her hand before turning back to Jack and you narrowed your eyes at his smirking face, “I’m not a Park Avenue Princess.”

At your words, Jack threw his head back as he laughed, “shit, Y/N! You live in a fancy apartment complex, with a doorman and you’ve still got enough dough to buy those designer shoes,” he nodded at your shoes as you scoffed and rolled your eyes, “must be that fancy college degree.”

You were the only one in this friendship group that had gone to college and they had always held it against you, “it’s not that fancy,” you laughed as your other friend Tony brought over a fresh round of drinks and he scoffed at your words, “I’m still the same Y/N from high school, the same Y/N that grew up in Hell’s Kitchen,” you promised them with a smile.

These people were your best friends and you certainly didn’t think that you were any better than them, “want a game of pool Y/N?” Tony asked with a sly smirk and you couldn’t stop the shudder and wince that ran through you at the mere thought, “I rest my case, Your Honour,” he said with a gleeful laugh.

“Fine!” you stood up, feeling determination boil in your chest, “would a Park Avenue Princess suggest doing shots of tequila until we black out?” you smirked as you were answered with a resounding whooping cheer.

You shoved and pushed your way through the sea of sweaty bodies until you finally got to the bar and put your order in, shouting over the booming music. You heard him before you saw him; his soft and tender voice in your ear caused your heart to plummet in your chest. That was the voice you had missed, the voice that had whispered dirty things to you in the middle of the night and gave you words of encouragement in the daylight.

“Y/N? I heard your voice, I thought I’d meet you here, you certainly never came here with me,” you winced at the note of hurt in his voice and you turned to him with a sigh.

His hair was dark and wavy, you itched to run your fingers through it as he stood there looking like a million dollars in that suit of his. His beautiful chocolate brown eyes were hidden behind his glasses and his mouth was set in a firm line, “I’m here with my friends Matt,” you picked the shots up and Matt gently rested his hand on your elbow.

“Y/N,” his voice was gentle as he cooed to you and you couldn’t let him lure you back in with his sweet and honeyed tongue, “we should talk, please just allow me to talk to you.”

You sighed sadly as you shook your head, knowing full well that he couldn’t see you, “I think that you’ve said everything that you’ve needed to, Matt,” you longed to ask him why you weren’t good enough for him, “excuse me,” you ignored his calls of your name as you made your way back over to your friends.

It was an amazing thing; you found that you could actually have fun, even in a place as wretched as this. You hardly spared a thought for Matt as you downed numerous shots of tequila, smiling as it warmed your insides wonderfully. You felt absolutely fine as you drank with your friends, until there was a lull in the loud rock music. You heard the most beautiful tinkling laugh and you glanced in the direction that it was coming from and you wished that you hadn’t.

A beautiful blonde woman with a kind smile was sitting with Matt and his friend Foggy. Matt smiled at her and he leaned closer to her so she could whisper in his ear. You wondered if she was the reason why he’d dumped you. He used to look at you like that and it felt like a knife to your heart as hot tears pricked behind your eyes. You shouldn’t have been so upset, he wasn’t yours anymore but you couldn’t help it.

“I can’t do this,” you muttered as you got up from your seat; it had all started off so well.

“Y/N,” Molly sighed and you forced out a smile as you looked at your friends.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna get a cab, I’ll call you when I get home,” your friends nodded at you sympathetically.

You weaved your way through the bar and by the time you got to the door, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks, why weren’t you good enough for him? You bumped into someone as you got out into the warm night air of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking up at the tall man. He was dressed in a jacket, even in this heat with black jeans and boots, he looked very menacing. The stranger had rough but handsome features; never in your life would you associate with a man like him.

He frowned down at you as he saw your tears, “you alright doll?” he asked in a gruff voice and you nodded, swiping at your eyes, “need a cab beautiful?” you flushed and nodded, trying to look anywhere but him.

The stranger huffed out a laugh as he flashed a smirk at you, his gaze lingering on your bare legs as he hailed a cab. With a hand on your lower back he helped you into the cab, “have a good night, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” you forced out a smile as he closed the door. As the cab began to move, you found yourself craning your head for one last look at the handsome stranger. You could stare at him without shame; after all, you would never see him again.

------------------------------------

@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #daredevil #frank castle #the punisher #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock x reader #Matt Murdock x reader insert #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #you x matt murdock #frank castle x reader #frank castle x reader insert #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #you x frank castle #marvel #angst #fluff #charlie cox #jon bernthal #daredevil x reader #the punisher x reader

[marvelescape]

christmas company

summary: Bucky always spent Christmas alone. Until he had you. His Christmas company. For a while.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

word count: 2,122

warning: ANGST. sad Christmas. sad Bucky. more on narrations. reader d!ed (I'm so sorry).

author's note: Hi there! It's been a while. I was supposed to keep this just as an idea and well, I ended up writing and finishing it. So here's my first attempt for an angsty fic. While this radiates sadness, I hope your December will be filled with nothing but joy and light! ✨

GIF is not mine. Credits to its owner! 🖤

Ever since Bucky woke up as the Winter Soldier, he never got to celebrate Christmas. Not even after he was freed from the Hydra assassin with the help of the Wakandans.

He would be invited by Shuri for Christmas dinners in the royal palace but he always preferred to be alone.

Bucky had been taught that Christmas is a day that is to be celebrated exclusively with family. His family.

Christmas has always been a special day in the Barnes family. They would all gather, no matter how busy everyone would be in their own business. They would eat dinner appreciatively, knowing that the ingredients used for their food cost so much and had been stored up months prior.

When he finally moved to New York in the present, Steve would invite him to Avengers Christmas dinners. However, he would be reluctant to go because Bucky well, he wouldn't want to impose.

He knows his place. Especially knowing that while everything that went between the Avengers was slowly healing, he still isn't on Tony Stark's good side.

But one Christmas, about two years after the Civil War, as media liked to call it, it was Tony who personally invited Bucky to join them.

"It's Christmas, Barnes. Do us a favor and come to dinner so that we wouldn't witness Rogers' sulky face and ruin everyone's mood for another year," he remembers Tony saying exaggeratedly.

And that Christmas dinner was when he first met you.

You were one of Natasha's two “sisters” from the Red Room and had been an official avenger since you reunited and finished off the existence of the Red Room and Dreykov.

That night, you still consider yourself pretty new in the team yet Bucky could tell that you fitted right in.

You would annoy Tony and exchange jokes and modern slang words with Peter.

You matched ugly Christmas sweaters with Steve.

You ate the desserts with Thor before dinner started, which earned you both a piece from Natasha and Clint.

Seeing you, also new to the team, being comfortable around the world's mightiest heroes brought a sense of comfort to Bucky.

You were also the one to first one to greet Bucky when he first stepped his foot in the compound that night. You greeted him a cheery "Merry Christmas" with the brightest sparkle in your eye.

When it was time to exchange gifts, Bucky was surprised when he realized you had one for him. It was a small box wrapped in a Christmas red wrapping paper printed with reindeers. Inside was a white wolf keychain.

You asked Steve about Bucky when you heard he was coming. You wanted to make sure that he would still feel included because you're "just passing it along," remembering how the Avengers surprised you too with gifts the first holiday you joined them.

That keychain dangled with Bucky's apartment keys ever since that night.

Everyone in that Christmas dinner decided to forget, even just for a moment, that they might have to suit up and attend to their responsibilities the next day and drank their hearts out. Tequila and Thor's Asgardian Mead were able to finish the job and there was nothing but unbalanced heroes, murmuring slurred words.

Except for four: you, Bucky, Steve and Peter. Peter, being a minor, was not allowed to drink and Steve decided to keep it civil with the mead and have everyone in check.

You, on the other hand, tapped out after three shots of that strong tequila Natasha bought.

And Bucky, well... He looked like he didn't even try to drink. You noticed how he just took a few sips and called it a night.

It was deep into the night when everyone started to go to their rooms and settle.

While Bucky cannot believe how for the first time in years he was able to feel the Christmas spirit again, he still decided to do what he always did in the past years. He went outside - to the compound's large lawn area. He plans to remember his family, his old life like he always did. Pretend, even just for an hour, that he can be himself, be the 40s Bucky again.

Bucky, as much as he would not like to admit it to the group he's trying to convince himself is his new family, would still prefer to be alone during this time. Like he always did. Like he was already used to.

Until he saw you there too.

Staring at the sky.

Deep in thoughts.

"Why are you still up?" you asked, not needing to look back to sense that he was there.

Bucky almost stepped back and go against his plans until you talked again. "I hope you liked the keychain. I remember Steve being proud of how the Wakandans are calling you the White Wolf and when I saw that in the store, I knew I had to."

He felt his heart stop at your soft voice and he replied a small, "Thank you."

Bucky stayed quiet trying to think whether he should join you as you never removed your gaze on the starry dark sky. Until he decided that there's no harm in doing what he intended to when he came there.

You both stayed in comfortable silence, deep in your own thoughts.

That night, the stars seemed to shine brighter and the wind didn't feel as cold.

You sighed and whispered to the wind, to yourself, or to Bucky. You were never really sure who you wanted to talk to but you just knew you had to get it out. "I never knew my true family. All my life, all I knew was the Red Room. Being a widow. The parents that I knew were Alexei and Melina. My sisters were Natasha and Yelena. Most days I'm grateful that even though it's not true, I get to have a family still. Most days I don't mind." You then looked at your company. "But during Christmas, I wonder if they think about me. My true family. If they remember me."

Bucky saw through your forced smile. He saw the longing in your eyes.

At that moment, he didn't know what to reply so he decided to just share his baggage too. "I knew my family," he started. "Christmas was a big thing in the Barnes household. The last time I was able to join them for a Christmas dinner was the year before I was drafted for the war. I looked forward to fighting and staying alive - for everything to be over, so that I can celebrate with them again to only wake up years later as an assassin, and when I finally got my mind back, I learned that they're- all of them- are gone." He chuckled bitterly and returned his gaze to the dark sky.

You let out a disgruntled snicker yourself. "Christmas shouldn't be this sad, don't you think?" you said.

Bucky looked at you with a small smile. "You seemed happy back there." He nodded back to the back entrance to the compound. "You pretty much provide the energy."

"You know what they say, people with the biggest smiles suffer from the biggest pain." You pressed your lips tightly.

Bucky didn't know what to say but you knew that he knew the truth to that. He may not be the type of person to cover his agony with a smile but he greatly suffered as well.

Bucky then instead got the keychain from his pocket and waved it in front of you. "I like it, by the way. Thank you again," referring to your earlier statement.

You smiled, wider and more genuine this time. "I knew you would! Now you owe me a gift."

Bucky nodded and went silent for a few seconds. Then he softly asked, "How about I be your company every Christmas as an exchange. Well, after Christmas. You know, like right now?"

"What?" you laughed.

"Well, it seems like you're a bit miserable and have to pretend you're happy every time this holiday exists. I'm miserable and well... I guess everybody knows that," he said lightly, "Why not be miserable together? In peace? After dinner?"

You saw how his brows raised and his head tilted to the left a little bit as he waited for your reply.

You then bit your lip. "Just sit or stand in silence and be drowned with our own thoughts?"

Bucky nodded. "If you want to voice out your thoughts as you did a while ago. I wouldn't mind." He gave you a small but encouraging smile.

"What makes you think you're invited for the next Avengers Christmas dinner?" you taunted.

Bucky put his hands inside the pockets of his pants and smirked. "Tony and Steve asked me to officially be an Avenger as a 'Christmas gift' so I'm pretty sure I'm covered."

Right then, a promise was made of a setup. A Christmas setup.

You.

Him.

The holiday.

In the middle of the night.

Silence.

Since then, you two would bond over your after Christmas dinner routines. Reminiscing. Thinking of the could have been's in your lives.

There was a Christmas where you would talk all night.

There was one where you would just hear each other's breathing and feel contented.

Between Christmases, you went to missions together.

You taught him how to do a TikTok video.

He taught you how to dance, 40s style.

You created a special bond.

One that no one in the team could get into.

Then feelings got involved and suddenly you and Bucky are not only each other's Christmas company.

You are each other's person.

After those miserable Christmases together, the holiday started to become brighter and more genuinely happy.

Christmas turned into something you two looked forward to.

Christmas was love.

It was joy.

It was a reminder of how long you and Bucky have made it.

But this Christmas was a little bit different. Scratch that, not little bit. This Christmas was entirely different.

Bucky was excited to see you yet he was also dreading this moment. He felt the misery creeping in as the time kept ticking. This time, he will be meeting you not after dinner.

He plans to spend this Christmas all day with you.

He prepared a picnic basket full of sandwiches. It reminded him of how you two would spend time at the compound, trying out different spreads and types of meat to put into your original "Buck & Y/N special" sandwiches.

There was also a drink. Your favorite.

His hand held tightly at the bouquet of your favorite flowers he ordered.

A black velvet box was sitting heavily in his pocket.

A tear escaped his eye as he stepped outside his apartment and locked the door, a now worn out keychain still dangling with his keys.

He looked up at the bright cloudy sky and sighed heavily.

A car ride later. Heavy steps. A dreadful walk. He finally reached you.

Y/N L/N. Avenger. Friend. Sister. Partner.

"Hi, doll." He whispered to the wind. "Merry Christmas."

Bucky sat on the grass, set down the flowers and the basket and caressed the cold granite with the engraving.

Then it was all out. Again.

This was the Christmas he was supposed to ask you to be his Christmas company forever.

He was so sure. So sure that it would happen.

That Christmas would be written differently for the two of you.

That you would be able to erase whatever pain this holiday caused you two before.

This Christmas was supposed to be the one where you wouldn't have to think of your lost families because you're finally going to be creating your own.

Until you had to be you - an Avenger with a heart too good for this world - and sacrificed yourself for everyone.

"Christmas shouldn't be this sad, don't you think?" he repeated the words you muttered to him that night, tears rolling down from his face.

Bucky looked up at the sky again, like you used to do.

"I know you're up there, doll," he sobbed. "I know you're happy and spreading your Christmas energy up there." He clutched on the grass he was sitting on. "But God, I'm miserable. And everybody knows."

He clutched the stone that had your name tighter. "I want my Christmas company back. Please come back."

There he was again.

Bucky and his Christmas.

Thinking of his family - what could have been his family.

And yes, he may still have company. Your friends. The Avengers.

But they're not his Christmas company.

They're not you.

And they know that James Buchanan Barnes will be spending the rest of Christmases like he did before he met you.

Alone.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #bucky fanfic #marvelescape #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #marvel fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst